Yokie from Muskogee: September 2006

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Lead singer taking applications for country band

I came home to find J-Pop watching a dvd from a friend. It was footage of a concert put on by The Warter Front Band. These guys are American and were playing at a honky tonk in Tokyo, called Little Texas. I have a one word review of their performance: TERRIBLE!

I told J-Pop they were really bad and they made my ears hurt. This was before they covered Okie From Muskogee. They were truly a train wreck. During Lukenbach Texas, the band-leader/drummer/lead vocalist did a terrible Willie Nelson impersonation, singing nasally with the end of a drumstick pushing one of his nostrils closed. It was so off that it didn't even sound like a bad Willie impersonation. Trust me, I know what a bad one sounds like (my own!).

I feel really bad for the Japanese audience that had to sit through this show. They may not even have known it was so terrible. While having been exposed to two guitar greats (my brother and stepfather) has made me a little of a snob, I put it aside and gave the bassist and the two leads (who seemed to be sharing one guitar) a blank page. I'm not sure the members knew they were playing in a band, together.

I guess it doesn't take much to get a few gigs in Japan, playing country music (or maybe any kind). From today, I am looking to make a band. If any of you would like to get a taste of "life in a hillbilly band" (thanks Waylon!) or would like to "rock the suburbs" (thanks Ben Folds) with me, please let me know. I know at least one venue (Little Texas) that would give us a stage.

The leader and drummer

The missing blues brother on bass and a lead guitarist

Lead guitarist #2 sharing the lead guitar while the other lead guitarist plays the air guitar (which is all his own).

He has his guitar back.

So what!? I'm jealous! These guys looked like they were having a good time.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Signs, Motorcycles, Motorcycle Gangs, Motorcycle Gang Signs

Any ideas? Whose fear is exploited in this show (the audience's or the dolphins')? Is it loosely based on The Rocky Horror Picture Show?

I made an appointment to get my hair cut at the American. After second thought, I decided to cancel it. There was just something about the name that turned me off. While American "Pig" is appealing as a bar's name, it just doesn't make sense for a har salon.

There's a foot tunnel nearby that has been the victim of some budding vandals/grafitti artists. This one is "F the Police!" YIKES! I don't know why anyone would want to say that. The police don't bother anyone (including the criminals).

Here's some more, in the same tunnel. "Ooyabe _______ is the best!"

(You can fill in the blank.)

This depiction of a motorcycle leads me to believe it's the work of local motorcycle gangs (seriously).

Speaking of motorcycles, I found this one in February or March. I should have turned it in to the police. If nobody would've claimed it in six months, I would have been contacted to come on down and pick up my new ride! As it is, about a month ago, it vanished. I could've joined a motorcycle gang.

Friday, September 15, 2006

The Last Day of Summer: July 18th, 2006

I've finally set my mind to doing this entry. I can't do more until this one is finished. For the time being, expect no eloquence. And in trying to express my wish to cut to the point (is that even the correct idiom: get to the point/cut to the chase?) I've avoided cutting to the point. On July 18th, 2006, my best friend passed away. He was actually more than a best friend. I don't know what that word might be, but he was it. We met in second grade (this year we'd be in about 28th grade) and from then on were inexplicably linked. There wasn't one weekend that passed from elementary to college that we weren't at the other's house. In the case of college, it was easier- we were roommates. Anyway, nothing I can say in this blog will express the loss in my mind and heart. I'd just like to put up a few pictures with a few comments, maybe.

Jeremy really liked this picture. I don't know who took it or where they were.

This picture was taken at a birthday party for his daughter during one of her early visits to Houston (She's much older now).

The next few pictures were taken during what was one of the best summers of my life.

Friday night, I would drive to Tulsa and we'd hit the single scene. We'd get up Saturday and go bouldering. Saturday night, "...on the rocks." Sunday morning, we'd be on the rocks. We were in our late twenties and holding on to them as tight as we could.

Before I go, let me tell you about a couple of dreams I had. They both left me feeling better. In Japan, in the late summer (the season that just passed), every neighborhood has a festival. It was/is believed that the spirits of the ancestors come back to visit. At night, a stage is decorated and festive music is played. Attendees dress in summer kimonos and there are special dances performed on the stage and in a circle around it. I dreamed Jeremy was at one of these parties and just dancing away. I woke with a nice feeling.

Just last night (and perhaps the impetus for this entry), I dreamed I was at a reception for Jeremy's funeral. We were all standing around (friends and family) when Jeremy showed up. Nobody was surprised and it was almost like it was a scheduled visit. He made his rounds hugging people and saying goodbye. Lastly he hugged his family and myself. He told us all not to worry and that he was happy and doing ok. I held back my tears while he was there and wished him well. We had a final embrace and a "Take care, see ya later, man." With a final look around the room he just vanished.

Well, that's all. That's all I have to say in this medium. I'll have an actual essay in the days to come. Anybody that would like to read it (when it's available), please leave me a comment and I'll make sure you get a chance.

And please, leave a comment. Especially, if you knew him.