new look for new-ton

i updated the look and some info on my official site tonite. i know what you're saying, "that's an exciting saturday nite." you shoulda seen me vaccuming the house this afternoon!

head on over to newtondominey.net and let me know what you think.

by the way, did any of my fair readers run the marathon?

i joined the climbing gym last nite. it's going to be a little bit larger than the chunk of budget that i've set aside for exercise and recreation, but i've been enjoying going so much that i've decided to commit to it and pick up the members' perks.

there's something really visceral and primitive that appeals to me about climbing. you start at the bottom and, for all practical purposes, claw your way to the top. it's also a hell of a workout that doesn't feel like a workout. don't get me wrong, it's really tough and my muscles today feel pretty tight, but i wasn't sitting in a gym like i have been for the past 2 years lifting weights. i was playing around on a big synthetic rock for 2 hours last nite, trying to "top out" on 4 different routes (i managed to finish 2 of them, my first 2 ever. i was pretty pumped). maybe i'll go back on sunday. i think i can beat those other 2 if my arms, fingers and hands are fresh...

for now, i'll be sticking to the indoor climbing thing. but maybe in the fall i'll be able to get out and get on a real rock, like this one. this is called bouldering. it's not rope climbing like you see where some guys shimmying his ass up a wall using nothing but a crack in the rock to climb up. bouldering is pretty much what it sounds like: climbing big rocks to get on top of them. (i think there's a competition this saturday at climb nashville. if you're around, you should check it out.

sidenote:
you know, the funny thing about this picture is that, while the guys underneath the climber are spotting him, they really look like they're chasing after him and he's scurrying up the boulder like some sort of mutant freak. you can almost hear them now, "curses!! foiled again!!"

it's a matter of perspective

i'm sure you remember my post from a few days ago questioning everything from my ability to my desire to my sanity. here's an update:

i had a show last nite. for those of you that could make it, thanks. for those of you that couldn't, there will be more. yes, for sure, there will be more. why? last nite's show was great. i could've played better, sure. i could've sang better, absolutely. but what i did last nite that i haven't done in a while is lock in. i connected. with the audience, with the songs, with myself.

it's something that, for reasons i wish i could figure out, i haven't felt in a while. maybe it's from putting too much pressure on myself to be the next costello/springsteen/strummer. maybe it's from exhausting myself trying to do everything, all the time. maybe i've just had a couple of off nites. who knows?

i don't think that i'm out of the woods entirely. i'm still not writing or hearing new music in my head (don't ask.), so i still have the feeling of being stagnant, but i'm seeing new images and starting to picture different scenes that i think might spark my lyric writing. i just need to remember to not be afraid of writing a bad song.

the other thing is that, after the last couple of shows, i thought that i started doubting myself and my ability to perform and connect with people. seriously doubted. now, for reasons i'll explain in just a second, i'm not doubting myself. not as much anyway. there are still things i can improve on - i could project a little more confidence and excitement in my between song banter, i could probably make fun of myself a little less, but that's my personality and i'm pretty okay with that.

here's the big story from last nite. i'm feeling good, feeling loose, not smoking a cigarette every 8 minutes to keep my mind off of the past 6 weeks, ready to rock. then, HE walks in. i won't tell you who he is, but he's a music industry guy who has been responsible for the "discovery" of a couple of my friends as well as some other people that you definitely know of. we're only casual acquaintances (of the "hey! how are you? good. see you later." variety). but i've always felt like he didn't like my music and my performance. YIKES. i started thinking about it, but very quickly thought to myself, "fuck this. he's not here to see me. if he doesn't like it, shit on him."

turns out he liked it. alot. and he told me so in no uncertain terms. told me that i almost had a guest on stage because he felt like he should be singing along with me. i don't know who he was there to see, but he saw me. and he liked me and gave me a flippin' boat load of encouragement. in case you can't tell, i'm still kinda high off of it. does it mean he's gonna work with me? i don't know. but he knows about me. and he likes what i'm doing. for now, that's enough.

it's also enough of this post. i'd love to tell you that i'm back to regular posting, but who am i kidding? i'm going climbing tonite after work to blow off some steam. i think that i'm getting ready to start telling you guys about how much i'm enjoying that.

peace in the grease.

breaking up is hard to do

for the past few days i have to admit that i'm thinking about breaking up with her.

it's been about 8 years and, while things are steady and stable, they're not quite as exciting as they used to be. oh, we still talk, and she still does a good job, but i don't think the effort to make me happy is there like it once was. sometimes i can tell she's just going through the motions, not really "into" what she's doing. it makes me a little sad but, to be honest, i think i've been thinking about it for a while...

what? like you guys haven't ever thought about switching stylists? SHEESH!

seriously, i'm thinking about going to a different hair cutter (stylist sounds really pompous i think). but i really have been going to my current cutter for almost 8 years, since right after bwe and i got together. all the above is true. she still does a pretty good job, but i don't think she's trying to keep my business, ya know?

here's my question, and dilemma, for today:

if i'm gonna step out on her, how do i do it tactfully? cancel an appointment, get it cut somewhere else and, if i don't like the new cutter, go back in a month? should i tell her that i'm thinking about stepping out? i'm pretty sure i'm the only guy this side of heterosexuality who's ever been concerned about his relationship with his cutter but, after all, we're talking about my hair. it's not like it's a doctor or something trivial like that...

suggestions and comments needed...

everybody's working for the weekend

i've been living life like a loverboy song lately: workin' for the weekend. and my weekends have been good. it's the rest of the week that's been shit. you see, when i sweat things, i sweat them hard. and as you all know, i've been sweating the office gig/music thing like a sauna set to high, extra water please.

i'm really trying to relax a little bit about music. this high strung stuff just doesn't work for me, you know? so this weekend i didn't think about it at all. bwe and i went to the predators' stanley cup playoff game on friday and had a blast. we went sunday as well, but watching your team get pasted 3-0 isn't nearly as fun. i spent most of the day saturday watching hockey and sleeping. (it'd been a long week!). saturday nite we had dinner at the bwe's mom's house and (surprise) i watched hockey. i even got to go for a skate on saturday. i'm bound and determined to learn to play hockey (whether it be ball, roller, or ice), and that means learning to skate. forwards, backwards, sideways...all ways. i won't be lacing 'em up for team usa anytime soon, but i'm getting better. i went about 2.5 miles around our local greenway and (hopefully) will do another 2.5 tonite, assuming it doesn't rain.

now...wednesday's show is going to be fun. jason howes and brian ritchey are awesome and i've heard great things about quincy coleman. everyone's doing a little bit shorter set than normal to accomodate such a large bill, but that should mean that everything's wrapped up around 12 or 12.30. things get cranking around 9, so bring a friend and $5 and your partying shoes to the basement, dangit. (i'll even be sporting my playoff beard for all to see.)

seacrest out.

wednesday is the new thursday...

more on the last post later...mark your calendars...this is gonna be a bad-ass show:

been thinking...

(this is long. i think it's a good read, but it's long. don't say you weren't warned.)

so yeah, it's been 11 days since i had a post. i've stopped looking at sitemeter, because i know that all of my hits are coming from some picture i posted of an old lady kicking some dude in the junk. the thing is, i really haven't had much to say. and i've been busy with "real" work and trying to not be depressed about what i want to do, which is play music. it's not ALL that i want to do, but it's pretty much the whole enchilada, minus maybe the mole sauce and sour cream. get it?

we went to austin this weekend to see my family. we had a great time. an honest to goodness great time. i was able to spend a few minutes with my grandmother (i wish it could've been days, but i'll take what i can get), my great aunt (who's like a back-up grandmother), and my aunt (who's kind've taken over in some of the "mom" duties over the past few years). i also got to hang out for a while with my cousins and their kids - whom i treat like neices and nephews. this is where today's conundrum started.

my cousin's husband is in sales and does very well. big house north of town, disposable income, independently wealthy, kind've well. while he doesn't like what he does, he's happy. i mean truly happy. you can see it in his face and the way he acts around his wife and kids. he's got joy.

me? i don't make as much money ( i probably could) at my paying job, but i honestly can't make myself do the work any more than i do because i don't like what i do (stick with me, i'm going somewhere with this, i swear.). so i'm talking to the wife about this - how happy he is, compared to my relative misery - and i give her my theory:

i want to be great.

i don't mean that i want to be great at sales. i want to be GREAT. like ghandi. like springsteen, costello & the clash. like jim wallis (the founder of sojourners). like albert einstein. like andy warhol. the kind of greatness that people who don't know, know. i really mean that. i think that, whenever it's my time to die, if i don't feel like i've had an impact on people, not just a person here and there, but THE PUBLIC, that i will have not had a fulfilling life. like i won't have lived up to my potential. and i really do feel that i have that potential. maybe it's wrong-headed and maybe my self evaluation skills aren't what they ought to be, but i feel it.

the thing that i've been so conflicted and concerned about is: do i feel it in the same way that the fat girl who can't sing that you seen on american idol feels it? she thinks she's great. her family supports her.

but she sucks. not only that, she sucks and no one wants to look at her (you can fix one or the other, but not both).

what if "this" is all i'm supposed to do and be? what if this is it? if greatness isn't in my genes, in my divine plan, can i be satisfied with...normal? i've never thought of myself as normal. i tried to be normal in high school and felt like i was cheating. normal wasn't part of college. it's not part of me now. so what happens if it turns out that this is what i get? a non normal dude stuck with a normal life? a "corporate" life?

it scares the hell out of me and, being terribly frank, makes me sad to the point of fighting back tears some times.

what's worse is that this fear/realization/whatever is crippling my creativity, or at least i feel like it is. i'm trying so hard to be great and to be "not normal" that i'm blowing songs up before i let them begin.

i spend most of my time around people who have no aspirations to anything other than what they have in front of them - working their job until they die. in a corporate box. in the face of this i'm trying to keep my individuality and my sense of purpose (cue steve martin from the jerk. "i have a special purpose!!!). and my visions (or delusions) of greatness.

the wife posed a question to me that i've been struggling with, in light of my cousin-in-law's happiness:

would you trade greatness for happiness? if you could be great, but you wouldn't be able to have things you want and do the things that you do, would you want to do it? or would you rather be happy, but anonymous?

damn that woman and her questions...

happy pills

sorry i've been such a stick in the crap lately (and an infrequent poster at best). things really have been a grind lately and it gets to me every now and again. i'm normally an optimist, but when i get on the negative train, we go full bore. such is the life of an aspiring musician i guess.

i started a song the other nite, as i tend to do when i get into one of "those" moods. i don't know if it will be good, but it feels honest and that's a good start.

seems like all i'm thinking about lately is laying it down. and, if patterns hold true, that means that something nice will pop up - either a particularly good show or a nice review or something - and that i'll be back on the happy pills again. it's scary how long i can go on one good review or one good show. just imagine if i was doing this full time...i'd be like the leprechaun who finally got his damn lucky charms. speaking of lucky charms, i've been craving sweets (particularly ice cream) like a damn pregnant woman lately...
--
on a slightly different note, i was chosen as the season ticket holder of the game for the predators' home game this saturday. that's pretty f'in cool if you ask me. if you're going to the game, i'll be the guy on the budlight band stage during the 2nd period standing next to gnash - the predators mascot - wearing my "we want tacos" tshirt.

topic o' the day

i'm bored. with music. the day job. life in general.
i'm also tired of all of the above.
burned out, too.

i need a nap.

discuss.