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Tuesday, November 29, 2005 For Those People Who are Scared of Clowns I was taking a survey online for BizRate.com, and I kid you not, the following combination of question and answer was a legitimate choice: "Which of the following has influenced/would influence your decision to shop online this year?" "Fear of department store Santas." ^ Top | 10:58 PM | | | 
Thursday, November 24, 2005 Two Posts in One Day? Ah, but I had to say it:                 
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Blues-ing Tonight I won the blues Jack and Jill at dance Revolution. But what's a Jack and Jill, you ask? Leads and follows are randomly paired, dance together for a couple of minutes, randomly paired, and dance again. It's a test of social dancing skills that goes best if you're both a good dancer and matched with a good partner, and when everyone in the contest is of a similar level; it's difficult to showcase skills with an inexperienced partner, even if you are an experienced dancer (this is particularly a problem, I think, for follows). Add blues in to the mix. Blues is a close dance that can be uncomfortable on many levels when not done correctly (balance/support issues, personal space issues, personal space of specific body parts issues) but is absolutely amazing when done well (think: melted chocolate and long hugs). So suffice it to say that there were a couple of (ahem) interesting dances tonight, and a moment in which I thought, oh no, why did I enter a blues Jack and Jill with a bunch of inexperienced leads? (Let me clarify: most, though by no means all, of the leads in the "Traditional" category were newer dancers, but I am really excited that they've learned blues and had the guts to enter the competition in the first place. That's awesome, and I hope they continue in that. But I've already explained the uncomfortable part, so you can understand where that thought came from.) But the "Anything Goes" category (guys could enter as follows, girls as leads, or both as whichever) was smaller and had leads I was comfortable with (actually, we switched partners three times, and twice I danced with women so we actually stole the lead back and forth within our minute of dancing). So I won that division, and got a few bucks as a prize. Not bad for a night of already fantastic dancing, and I was also happy that people complimented my DJing. Side note: Ryan's in town for Thanksgiving--she lives in New York these days--which also makes me really happy. ^ Top | 1:24 AM | | |
Monday, November 21, 2005 Film and Rediscovering Lost Songs Today was a productive (and fairly artistic) day. I had rehearsal for a student film that I'm acting in, which was a riot--the cast is hilarious. We spent all of our time doing improvisations, and most of that time was also spent laughing even though we weren't intentionally trying to be funny. The characters we're playing--roles we were allowed to create in their entirety--interact in rather amusing ways; for example, the quirkiest character is the first recipient of a successful brain transplant. You can imagine the places that goes. (And a particularly funny point that one of the guys brought up: if he were to get a woman pregnant, he wouldn't actually be fathering his own child.) After rehearsal I spent three hours with a piano working on some Christmas music. This morning, I was excited to find an old recording of "Noel" on MD; I thought I might have lost the song forever. I wrote it two years ago when Tom, then pastor of my church, asked me to play for a Christmas service and had a specific theme in mind--rather than look for appropriate music, I surprised him and wrote a song (what better way to ensure that it fits?). But since it's a Christmas song, it doesn't get played often, and last year when I wanted to pull it out I realized that I only had a somewhat vague recollection of the melody, and definitely not the chords or the piano part, for that matter. This year I decided to start working on Christmas material earlier, and I was hoping that I'd made a rough recording of "Noel" when I wrote it--otherwise the likelihood of it ever being played again was slim to none. But happily I found the MD and learned the song from the recording (which, interestingly enough, I have some difficulty doing with other people's music). If you come to a concert in December, you'll be sure to hear it. (Enticed yet?) ^ Top | 10:49 PM | | |
Saturday, November 19, 2005 Meeting Musicians The Not-so-Good: Played for a grand total of eight people tonight at Club 2nd Floor. The Good: The guys from Short Notice are awesome. I thought the show would be a little weird since the bill consisted of little ol' acoustic me and a hard rock band--and it was, but for different reasons. Yes, Short Notice was about 100 times as loud as I was, but we all appreciated each others' music (random background, their bassist is a jazz musician and their guitarist listens to John Denver and smooth jazz, among other things). Tonight's improvised song was quite amusing; after using all the solicted words, I started singing about Ryan, their guitarist: investment advisor by day, rockstar by night. Which brought about the comment, "Never tell a singer-songwriter your day job." Followed by, "And if you date a singer-songwriter, you either need to marry them or realize that many songs will be written about you. Remember that episode of Boy Meets World?" Their singer's description of my music was hilarious as well: "She's like Jewel, but good." ^ Top | 1:14 AM | | |
Friday, November 18, 2005 The Appearance of Winter, in Cockney The last entry, Cockney translation courtesy of The Dialectizer: A voicemail left from a mucker 'oo'd spent the bloomin' last week in Singgapore, right, a wee city-state on the equator, right, to an exported musician 'oo left at the bleedin' age of five: "Eh up, I'm hammer and tack in Chicago, right, just got off the chuffin' flight and am waitin' for me cab--and it's 25 degrees outside. Why on earff did yer leave?" In the musician's 'ouse, all eight roommates frozen, one on 'is laptop in the dinin' room 'uddled into 'is sweatshirt, two wotchin' TV and sittin' on couches near drafty windows, four asleep and buried in blankets. The bloody musician sat at 'er French Tutor in a long-sleeved shirt, two layers of fleece, and a blanket--and were still cold, right, her fingers icy as they typed the bloody blog. And winter descended on Ann Arbor wiv an exuberance unmotched by inhabitants already cursin' the climate, bemoanin' the chuffin' fact that they were livin' in a state where in two days the temperature could change from mild, autumnal breezes ter frigidity, to winds wiv almost the bleedin' force necessary ter push cars from the highway. Their displeasure grew from the certain knowledge that wiv the bleedin' exception of a few brief respites, it would only cop colder. A lone import from Santa Barbara claimed excitement at 'er first sight of snow; the husband and catalyst for 'er transplantation ter Brighton were out 'untin' so she went dancin' instead, welcomed by natives 'oo were baffled at 'er choice of bipolar wevver over sunny beaches. "Yer left California for Michigan, isit?It must 'ave been true luv indeed." Or you could read the entirety of Randomness in Redneck. Or Hacker. (Not quite 1337.) Or Elmer Fudd. Or Pig Latin. (Which, at a glance, looks suspiciously like Elvish--Tengwar.) ^ Top | 7:30 AM | | |
Thursday, November 17, 2005 The Appearance of Winter A voicemail left from a friend who'd spent the last week in Singapore, a tiny city-state on the equator, to an exported musician who left at the age of five: "Hey, I'm back in Chicago, just got off the flight and am waiting for my cab--and it's 25 degrees outside. Why on earth did you leave?" In the musician's house, all eight roommates frozen, one on his laptop in the dining room huddled into his sweatshirt, two watching TV and sitting on couches near drafty windows, four asleep and buried in blankets. The musician sat at her computer in a long-sleeved shirt, two layers of fleece, and a blanket--and was still cold, her fingers icy as they typed the blog. And winter descended on Ann Arbor with an exuberance unmatched by inhabitants already cursing the climate, bemoaning the fact that they were living in a state where in two days the temperature could change from mild, autumnal breezes to frigidity, to winds with almost the force necessary to push cars from the highway. Their displeasure grew from the certain knowledge that with the exception of a few brief respites, it would only get colder. A lone import from Santa Barbara claimed excitement at her first sight of snow; the husband and catalyst for her transplantation to Brighton was out hunting so she went dancing instead, welcomed by natives who were baffled at her choice of bipolar weather over sunny beaches. "You left California for Michigan? It must have been true love indeed." ^ Top | 1:39 AM | | |
Wednesday, November 16, 2005 Reviews and Columns In an unexpected twist, I'm two-thirds of what RelevantMagazine.com published yesterday; my editorial column ran, which I had planned, and the review I wrote of The Juliana Theory's new album ran, which I did not plan (the music section is run by another editor, and he determines when those articles will go to press). For your reading pleasure: The Juliana Theory: Deadbeat Sweetheartbeat: I was a fan of The Juliana Theory back in the days of Understand This is a Dream, when the band would play small clubs and have to pay to park their van in the venue's lot, back when you could email singer Brett Detar with crazy requests to make your then-boyfriend's birthday special by sending a signed card and, between him and guitarist Joshua Kosker, they would (I definitely won the "cool girlfriend" award that year). And I'll admit it: with the release of the Music from Another Room EP (Tooth and Nail) and the subsequent Love from Epic Records, I lost interest in the band. Maybe it was due to a brand of musical snobbery toward major labels, maybe it was reports that TJT was getting progressively more arrogant, maybe it was disinterest in all the overdubs or a combination of all three; I can't say for sure. But my faith in one of the original emo bands has been restored: Deadbeat Sweetheartbeat, for all the "self-consciously artistic" impressions that its title suggests, is a strong piece of work that will probably be spinning in my CD player for years. On the Road: Let's be honest, being an independent musician is hard. You're happy if you break even on tour, if that tiny crowd of people actually pays attention to your music, if the venue makes an exception since you're coming from out of state and starts the tip jar with a few bucks instead of nothing. But it's also afforded me the opportunity to meet amazing people, visit friends who have moved far away, and see God work in unexpected ways. ^ Top | 7:29 AM | | |
Tuesday, November 15, 2005 Play for You I finally found the lyrics to Dan Vaillancourt's "Play for You" (which I dubbed one of two theme songs for indie musicians): i know my music has not made me rich but still i’ll sing all my songs for you sometimes a poor man can give more than a man born with a silver spoon my mother always says i need to go get a job you only take advantage of me all you do is play your music all day sometimes you play gigs and you don’t get paid what you gonna do, play in bars your whole life you could never support a family in this way you can’t do this, dan you should just concentrate on school someday you’ll need to face the world sometimes i don’t know why i make records ‘cause that’s where i spend every penny i earn but so bad i just want you to hear all my songs i write so many these days so if i sing, please turn and ear my way you could see straight into my soul so if i play, i don’t get paid but you leave with a tune in your ear today was a good day The rest of the lyrics are similarly amusing and true. And of course, the end goal is getting to play and get paid, but who's counting? ^ Top | 8:09 AM | | |
Monday, November 14, 2005 Workshops, World Records, Dancers, and Coupledom Continuing the recent trend of never being home during the weekend, I spent the last few days in Mt. Pleasant at a lindy/blues workshop with Jeff and Kristen from Waterloo, Ontario; Jeff is one of my favorite leads, so months ago when Matt (my teaching partner this summer) told me that he was hosting them I bookmarked the date on my calendar. As expected, it was an excellent weekend of dance--like last year, I took the workshop as a lead, and watching Jeff and Kristen I realized just how much Matt and I had stolen from them in terms of teaching. (Why re-invent the wheel?) Approximate stats: Hours of workshops: 11 Hours of dances: 13 End time of latest dance: 5:30am Number of mock fights over who gets to dance with Jeff: 3 Hours Dawn got to sleep: 7 Times Dawn almost fell asleep while driving home: too many to count This is all quite normal--a bit tame, really. So it's no wonder that 41 lindy hoppers in Cleveland (they started out with 42) set the world record for Longest Dance Party in 2003. They danced for 52 hours, 3 minutes--and the day after the insanity, a handful of them were out dancing again. On a slightly different note, apparently this is the month for dancers to hook up: three new couples have formed within the last three weeks (and mind you, the scene is small). And yesterday I found out about three other couples that have become official among InterVarsity friends. Must be something in the air.... ^ Top | 3:56 PM | | |
Friday, November 11, 2005 First Train Ride From my journal, on the Amtrak from Chicago to Ann Arbor (11.2.05). It seems to me that train would be a fabulous way to travel the country. We move through Midwestern towns, those both charming in their antiquity and overrun by endless parking lots, white outlines on tar and concrete. But in contrast to banality of ever-encroaching suburbia, this produces in me a great affection: the sun in perfect amber light, train stations wistful in their glory, withered fields in stop motion. The ground moves beneath us with a steady rhythm; the trees stretch into streaks of warm color punctuated by vinyl-sided houses and telephone poles, generic retail. In three states, much stays the same. This is our landscape. ^ Top | 5:30 AM | | |
Thursday, November 10, 2005 Top Ten Movies The Top Ten Movies list has been updated. (Yes, it was formerly a top five listing--but expansion was needed.) Take a look and voice your opinions here. I'll tackle the Top Ten Music at some point in the near future; there are some glaring omissions there. Though I suspect the "honorable mentions" section will grow out of necessity unless the list expands its scope. ^ Top | 6:16 AM | | |
Wednesday, November 09, 2005 Quotes It's funny, the things people say about you. "Dawn, Are you SURE you're from Singapore. You're about 6 inches taller than all the women around here." --Bryan Pardo, upon arrival in the country of my birth. What can I say, Asians are tiny--I'm like a giant over there. Correction: tiny except for my cousin Esther, who's probably around 5'9" (don't worry, the rest of the women--and men, for that matter--in my family are shorter). "Ah, you're denying your inner geek in being a folksinger." --My Australian uncle, who knows full well my proclivity for science fiction, during an AIM conversation about the new Battlestar Galactica. "You are even more beautiful in reality than on your pictures! I enjoyed your dancing too! Too bad Brian [in reference to Bryan, above, who played with a jazz quartet at the venue that night] didn't invite you to sing a song or two on stage. Well, we just have to wait." --The owner of Cafe Mud in Evanston, IL where I'll be playing the first weekend in December. He wrote up a nice preview on their blog about the concert too. ^ Top | 6:44 AM | | |
Tuesday, November 08, 2005 Indiegrrl Tour Wrap-up After playing six shows from Chicago to New York, I'm done with my portion of the Indiegrrl National Tour. Playing with the other grrls was wonderful; most of them are formidable musicians and they're just cool people in general. Fun facts and fun moments:
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Sunday, November 06, 2005 B-Rate Musician There are two theme songs for independent musicians. One is Dan Vaillancourt's "Play for You," which talks about being a musician and the resulting piles of money: "but sometimes a poor man can give more than a man born with a silver spoon." The other is Kara Kulpa's "B-Rate Musician." She sang it at both of the Indiegrrl shows she played with me last weekend, and after the Chicago performance I couldn't get it out of my head. I'm a B-rate musician Living in a C-rate apartment Living on bagels and coffee And a little bit of hope I leave out my hand for anyone who can Spare some gas and get me past this life I emailed her and mentioned how the song was stuck in my head--one of the first things I did when I got home late Wednesday night after traveling back to Ann Arbor via the hour-late train and spending a few hours recording the rest of the guitar parts for the upcoming full-length was pop her CD into my player and play the song repeatedly--and she thought it was hilarious. Especially because she woke up the day before singing, "Take me awaaay...." (Along those lines: at this point, Shelley, Kristy, and I have heard each others' songs so often that we've been singing pieces of them as we wander around town as well.) Kara's going to be making her Michigan debut on December 16th as part of the Shattered Light Concert Series at the Chapel Coffeehouse in Ann Arbor. The coolest part about booking a venue is getting to introduce others to good music. If you're in the area, stop by and check her out. ^ Top | 12:05 AM | | |
Saturday, November 05, 2005 Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats Sunday morning, Kara, Shelley, and I were out on the road by 5:15am. Shelley drove from Cincy to Chicago, stopping in Indy to drop Kara off (her car was there)--and Kara and I slept more or less the entire trip. Once in the Windy City, I stayed at Shelley's apartment for a couple of hours while she ran off to teach guitar lessons, and that short stay has since become the subject of many jokes and two improvised songs (one that night and one at Magdalena's Tea House--hey, the audience gave me "cat" as a word and I couldn't resist). Shelley has two cats, both of which are adorable, at least one of which sheds everywhere. Everywhere. I used to think that I was semi-allergic to cats, but since that morning I've had to revise that idea: I'm definitely allergic. I took an hour and a half nap and had trouble breathing. From Shelley's point of view, the really funny part about the whole episode is that it seems every Indiegrrl that stays at her apartment is allergic, including Kara, who just infuses herself with plenty of drugs beforehand. Next time I think I'll get doped up too. ^ Top | 1:19 AM | | |
Thursday, November 03, 2005 Aw, look how the musicians bonded. Saturday night was crazy: I played my third show of the Indiegrrl Tour with Kara Kulpa, Shelley Miller, and the last-minute addition of Kristy Hanson at Cincinnati's Rohs Street Cafe (side note: when I walked in the coffeeshop I saw that Brad Yoder had played the night before and I was sad that I'd missed his performance--I caught his set a couple of years ago at a music festival we both played at and he's wonderful. If you can write a song about the "Hair Loss Blues," you have to be worth a listen). Although our audience wasn't large, we had a fantastic time. Shelley and Kara tour together often, so they were already good friends. Apparently the weekend before--which would make it the same weekend Kristy and I played together, Kristy played with them and they all clicked instantly. And as soon as Kara and Shelley walked in the door, the three of us bonded. One part of that was due to Kara and I discovering a shared love of Caedmon's Call (their older stuff in particular, at least in my case): Kara introduced one of her songs saying that she wrote it around a chord that she thought she invented at the time, and when I played afterward I mentioned that Caedmon's Call uses it in one of their songs ("Somewhere North," in case you're wondering). When I got offstage she was practically bouncing up and down with excitement and we tossed around the idea of covering one of their songs together at the end of the night if time permitted (we didn't). That concert also involved all of us closing with a song that I'd never heard before--but since Kara and Shelley knew it and Kristy had sung it the week before with them (also not knowing it well), I ended up jumping in on keys to reasonable success. Ah yes, I'll be able to improvise with the facility of a jazz musician one of these days. After the show Mike and I discovered that his car had disappeared. While he and Gabe called towing companies to try to find it, noting the obscured tow-away warning sign, Shelley went to Kara's sister's house (where all the musicians were spending the night) to crash because she needed to be back in Chicago the next morning at 10:00am, and it's a six-hour drive. After some seaching, Mike and Gabe located the car and went to rescue it while Kristy and Kara got progressively more slap-happy waiting for me to collect my stuff. Mike left for Michigan that night and the girls headed to our quarters for the night, where Kara's sister endeared herself by finding us some cheese ravoli in the fridge. Then three slap-happy, hungry singer-songwriters made short work of a sizable container of pasta, forks in hand, standing around the single plastic bowl on the kitchen counter. Satiated, we went to bed, or in Kara's and my case, to nap for a couple of hours. Thank God that was the night of the time change--"fall back," as it were--and gaining an hour by crossing into Central Time in Illinois. ^ Top | 4:31 PM | | |
Wednesday, November 02, 2005 Friday in Cincy Cincinnati is a much more interesting city, architecturally speaking, than I'd anticipated. On Friday night, Gabe took Mike and I on an impromptu driving tour of the city, including Over-the-Rhine, the section that my favorite band named themselves after. It's a rundown neighborhood with beautiful old buildings that are boarded up and need restoration. Much like downtown Detroit. On one of the streets there was a large yellow banner stretched across two buildings that read, "Do not buy or sell drugs here." And here I thought that was obvious, given that it's illegal and all. We also walked on the Purple People Bridge--I have no idea if residents actually call it that, but Gabe did--and we got a breathtaking view of the city and the river, one half covered in fog so magical it looked like you could jump off and fall through the mist and emerge in another dimension. ^ Top | 2:03 AM | | |
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