Sarcasm: Just Another Service I Offer

I just love hearing about people doing stupid things. It appeals to my twisted, satirical humor. When I heard about people drinking lysol I laughed hysterically. Yep, more candidates for the Darwin Awards. And high school kids eating soap pods, are you kidding? When I was in high school, I had more sense, I just got stoned and took drugs and drove drunk and … but eat laundry detergent? Yeah, I was a lot smarter.

Mockery, yeah, like a contact sport, I love to scoff.

Taunting, sneering, vocalizing derision for my fellow humans.

I love the word Trenchancy. It implies my behavior is incisive, keen, suggesting I am unusually caustic. Purveying effective, energetic sarcasm. I like it. I am clear cut and distinct in my level of sardonicism.

All for self amusement.

Is there anything we can do to help?

Get A Clue

As a drummer, my most important function is to keep time. In the 80’s I learned how to play live with sequences, time delay, arpeggiators and click tracks.

In another band, we were recording an album, with out click, and I could not get past the fourth song. I was second guessing every beat and drum stroke and psyched myself into failure. Red Light Fever, I call it; a fear of failure so intense that I was paralyzed. A Ringer had to be hired to play my parts. To overcome Red Light Fever, I began investing in recording equipment.

I needed to learn to hear incorrect intonation. At the outset, I assumed people who performed often knew what they were doing. Years of performing does not preclude correct technique. Bad habits can be reinforced by constant repetition. Thank God for auto tune, Melodyne, or what ever piece of software we might use to overcome incorrect performances.

Questioning the inaccuracies of my playing through years of lessons and association with better players.

Reading wave files of recording sessions and discovering my kick drum leads the rest of my limbs by 6 to 10 milliseconds. Still working on this one.

Learning to hear audio artifacts whether from editing or from recording performances. People stomp feet, click their tongues and teeth, leave strings open when they shouldn’t, grunt and create all sorts noise while they record. Some of it so subtle that it won’t be heard until Mastering.

Be it as it may, just a short, non complete list of things I needed to address to achieve competency.

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The Labor Is The Reward

Yeah, you got that right. It is the love of music which sustains me. The love of the people, the process and the execution. What God given talents I have been blessed with have only been the starting point; a flame that kindled. Continually feeding that fire is the process. More accomplishment, greater love, more desire for accomplishment; and the wheel turns.

What is wealth when all is said and done? What is accomplishment? That is for each one of us to decide.

I believe the money thing relates to our physical well being, with out it we don’t eat, Baby.

The accomplishment thing relates to my mental well being; when things aren’t in motion I start to vibrate.

Amen and Amen.

When I was seven I failed as a pianist. I now blame that on my instructor because kids need to be able to be kids, and he was a kid too. He was forced by his mother to teach me, and being seventeen, he had better things to do on Saturday mornings than teach the brat next door how to play piano. He hated teaching and I absorbed the hate.

I still fiddle with the piano.

Then at twelve my mates wanted to be drummers. Television taught me that girls really dig musicians. There you have it. Guilty of creating the affectations of my environment. The lessons began.

Let the humiliations continue.

By the way, the women did not care about me being a musician till I was in my twenties. Then they cared, greatly.

But that’s another story.

Till this day, all I want to be is better at my craft. The more accomplished I become, the more passion reigns in my heart. The more passion, the more desire for attainment. More turns of the wheel.

Keep on keepin’ on.

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I Have A Dream

I once dreamt I was a chicken. I am not sure what the underlying psychology of chicken dreams means in relationship to reality; but there it is.

Cocking my head and eyeing the gravel, looking for that kernel of corn. Thrusting my beak towards that tidbit of seed, grabbing it and swallowing it down my gullet. Feeling it reside in my crop, my stomach turns to acid. Seems the previous evenings pizza turned my belly, ensuing to chicken perceptions of existence.

What Are Your Dreams?

My dreams are not as all encompassing as those who dream of the betterment of Human kind. My dreams are self centered aspirations for the betterment of Bryan Kind. Call me selfish and self centered. Ain’t no one taking care of me when I’m 95 except the hired help.

I Want To Reach For the stars

All kidding aside, hope and aspiration drive me. After all these years I can honestly say, “When I’m not at the job I am living the dream.”

Interspersed with the dream is a constant reminder of how much further I need to go.

Fat Fingers

Last weekend I had plans to do a three camera live video and audio shoot of a gig I was playing. My audio interface has the possiblility of recording 24 tracks simutaneously. Thursday evening was spent linking ADAT light pipe to the Focusrite and laptop. I get to the gig and spend two hours preparing for the shoot. Ten tracks to audio, two cameras runninng independently and one video cam off the Mac. Plug everything in, and, viola, no audio to Logic Pro. Spending another hour trying to figure out what command I Fat Fingered, I gave up. Better to keep my cool and play well than to end an evening of joy in pure frustration.

The path to success is littered with failure. There’s a lot of litter on my path.

Thanks for reading. Onward and upward.

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Don’t Quit Your Day Job

Another Night Buried in the Trenches at The Metropolitan Grill

I love to play music, I love to record, and, to the best of my abilities, I love to produce music. But what I also love is a super cool job, health insurance and stability. Call me double minded.

I have been a Sommelier with a restaurant group for the last 29 years, the last 16 spent at The Metropolitan Grill in Seattle. We are one of 91 restaurants in the world which have been recognized by the Wine Spectator as a Grand Award Winning Wine List.

Yes, my friend, I am blessed with a super cool and exciting life and feel so incredibly grateful for the opportunities given me.

One of four wine rooms at my Sommelier gig.

I have always juggled my love of music with my love of food and wine. They seem to be inextricably linked. Both are expressions of my inner most passions. Maybe I have hedonistic tendencies………ok, I have hedonistic tendencies; passion reigns in my interests.

The biggest challenge is juggling a job, requiring working evenings, week ends and holidays, with music, which usually requires gigging evenings, week ends and holidays. The days are pretty free, however, and I am not strapped with a teaching gig. Working around all this is super challenging and frustrating. My heart is in the music; my belly pays the bills.

Thanks for taking the time.

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