I've been absent from the blog, but I'm back. I've been soaking up tons of information like a sponge, and I don't even know where to begin -- there is so much to write about. Here are some of the things I would like to cover in the next couple of weeks (and even if they don't at first appear to pertain to music, bear with me, they do):

* Health and health care: one of the "reasons" for my absense is my 6-month battle with growing fibroid tumors. They typically are not life threatening, but if they grow large enough, they can press on vital organs and cause hemmoraging or renal failure. My great grandmother died of the former. I'm not afraid of bleeding to death, but I'm a real wuss when it comes to pain. And believe me, the three tumors (I call them triplets, because I have similar "symptoms" to pregnancy, although when these "come out" I will not have to buy them computers) are lodged in my pelvic cavity and feel like I'm being kicked in the betty by a sharp cowboy boot.

Epiphanette has been on the slow track because we have been waiting to see when my surgery will be  scheduled (hopefully, the second week of June).

I've been dealing with my insurance company, and their unwillingness to pay for the least invasive procedures -- that's what the hold up has been. Good grief. I was diagnosed in February and it's June and I'm still dealing with this. It's almost like a real gestation period.

I have always been a little embarrassed that I've not made a livable wage from my true love -- music -- I mean, I have several relatives who have/are and I have "verguenza" when I'm around them (I really do not have an English translation for this). But, at least, I am happy to say, I have insurance (such as that is). I've already burned a significant hole in my pocketbook to pay for my portion of the deductible, and it's still enough to cramp my spending -- even on music. But it's better than a $30,000 hospital bill.

Which brings me to musicians and health care: there are many of us who have jobs (including MUSIC teaching jobs) where we are covered.  I'm going to go off on two seperate tangents, so bear with me:

* Tangent 1: when I was coaching at Skips Music, I had a significant number of talented students who were Type 1 Diabetics. If you've been following public health, you may note that many doctors think that the rise in diabetes in children is at an epidemic level (even more cause for concern than Swine Flu, which, IMHO, was one big jerk off).

So for these students, becoming musicians or being able to afford health care by having a job that has the bennies (which may be disappearing anyway), is going to be a nasty fork in the road for these kids. I would hate to think that these kids would deprive the community of their talents for practical reasons, but that may be the case. Tom Petty has diabetes and obviously he has stuck with what he loves and so it's not going to be a deterrent for kids who really want to create, but I think that health care is tougher on diabetics (there are some insurance companies who will deny coverage -- preexisting conditions -- for diabetics).

President Obama is trying to enact legislation that will enable coverage for all Americans. It's a dance with the devil because the Insurance companies will find loopholes to exploit (they always do), and I'm not sure where the administration will find the money to fund such a program.  Workers are already overtaxed, and it looks like current goverment programs, like MediCal, are almost bankrupt as they are.

The Recording Academy has a CARES program that will help musicians in dire need, but to me, I think they should pull their resources as a "group" and offer insurance coverage to musicians who otherwise would not have it. It would be more affordable than musicians trying to get coverage on their own, or worse yet, not having coverage. Yes, unions are for that, but I really don't know of any rock bands that belong to unions. (Bonnie Rait? Some studio musicians for sure). I wonder if Green Day belongs to one.

Tangent 2 -- I forgot where that was going, but maybe it was rolled into Tangent 1.

My point is this: musicians should be able to have coverage whether they have a day job or not.  I honestly do not know what I would do with my current situation without it. It's not even the best of worlds the way it is now, but better than nothing.

I think that, especially, coverage should include help with depression and other "psychological" challenges, assistance with substance abuse, etc. This is in a perfect world, but the imperfect world we already live in is changing already.

Which brings me to other things that have been fermenting in my grey cells (that I will cover in the future):

* The future: a bottom-up new economy is developing among the working classes -- how will this affect music? There already is an economy on the Web -- but there are conflicting issues over copyright/transparency/right to privacy/ and free intellectual properties. If you think that as a musician that economics is not in your sphere of matter, then let me educate you: if you use a credit card, you're already participating; if you pay taxes, you're already involved. Unfortunately, we don't live on the Enterprise where everything is free and food comes out of a generator.

* I don't know if the current credit crisis is affecting musicians (I would be surprised if it is not) and there are some disturbing memes developing in the main news that is going to pit the established economy against cyber punks.

Blogs/readings I highly recommend to address this:

www.boing-boing.net

Book: Life, Inc., How the world became a corporation and how to take it back

Epression 2.0: Creative Strategies for Tough Economic Times

* The fall of the Fourth Estate (newspapers) and what that means to you and me

* On a micro-level: I'm at war with the accoustic guitar but trying to make peace.

Over and out for now. More self-centered sponge-wringing to come.

I admit it -- I'm slow on pop culture. Susan Boyle, the dowdy contestant on "Britain's Got Talent" wowed cynical judges and audiences with her singing more than two weeks ago and I discovered her today -- so I sound like I'm following the bandwagon.

First of all, I hate reality television shows, so my antenae wasn't tweaked when Ruby Friedman wrote that Susan Boyle had more props than Madonna. I thought she was talking about a singer/songwriter from L.A. And then from a link posted on CNET, of all places, I finally experienced what the brou-ha-ha is all about.

I've been replaying it all night -- because even though I don't know Susan Boyle, she could have been the perfect muse for my song, "I like the Freaks." My favorite part is two seconds into her singing Simon Cowell's eyebrows shoot up and throughout her singing he had a childlike smile on his face as if he was receiving a gift.

Before that, he looked a little disgusted when she mentioned she was 47. After her performance, the other two judges kept saying how they and the audiences were "against" her and that people were laughing at her. Ms. Boyle remained poised and took it in stride. Perhaps she was used to changing minds already.

What I wonder is why were audiences and judges so cynical about her before she opened her mouth? Ms. Boyle was confident before she entered stage right -- she said she would "rock" the audience. Clearly she has confidence in her ability and Bridget and I discussed today how wonderfuly comfortable she is with herself.

I think it's because we have a notion that entetainers --especially singers -- must look a certain way ala Jessica Simpson and her sister Ashley, who certainly have carved themselves in this image. It's a bubblehead kind of "beauty" without soul, and sometimes not even talent.

I read in my jazz history books that Ella Fitzgerald would never have "made it" in our time because in HER time she was considered unattractive. Yet when she belted her songs out, band leaders could not ignore her talent and she became of of the great chanteusses of our time.

"Dream Girls," the musical, also lightly addressed beauty versus talent.

Maybe that's why Ms. Boyle's suprise has touched so many people -- she is the underdog beating the odds with true, raw talent. She wasn't "made." She didn't work her way up any greasy poles (to loosly borrow from PM Benjamin Disraeli).

My hope for her is that "management" not try to "remake" her (although Bridget mentioned that on an NPR poll, it was equally divided about whether she should have a makeover or not). I hope she sings and gets more fans, and can earn a livable wage.

I hope that she can still be "herself" after this media storm and that she does not fade away. Is this possible?

I posted the scratch tracks on www.epiphanette.com -- click on "listen" (soon I'll post to the Epiphanettemusic MS page). Keep in mind that these tracks have NOT been mixed and mastered, but it's interesting (I think) for you to hear what tracks sound like before they go through the second process.
 

(with apologies to Tower of Power)

Epiphanette is almost finished with our demo. So now that the tracks are lain down, I'm sure you're salivating for a listen. For those of you not familiar with recording, we're really only half way there. After spending eight hours in the studio yesterday, I was too exhausted to listen to the rough mix-down that Patrick gave us.

But Mike Chase listened to it. Thank G-dess I ran into him tonight so that I could get some pointers about listening to the CD. I'm joking and I'm not being sarcastic -- he probably knows me better than most musicians and he knows I have a roaring inner critic (and he does, too; I'm thinking that our drummer, Kelly, doesn't -- he's so easy going).

Before a mix-down, listening to the first cut of a recording is like looking at a raw draft of writing. It's difficult to be objective (especially if your inner critic is a large, asshole monster, like mine). Mike suggested that I listen to it at home and take quick notes, but not obsess over it, and then listen to it on a different CD player, and then make notes. We want to take our notes to the dude mixing it so that the parts that we want to stand out will wave at you, and the other parts slink in the background so that you barely notice that they are there.

I think Mike was a little suspicious about me not listening to it -- but I really was tired. But, I also was not wanting to hear it in case I couldn't be objective (just like I couldn't look at the promo shots Matt shot of us because I thought that I looked like a troll -- look, I' don't have self-confidence issues -- women just have these problems with ourselves. The most confident woman I know admitted to me that she has her moments, too, and I nearly fell off my chair when she told me this, since she is a beautiful, talented and smart lady).

So, I've decided to put my monster on a leash. I kind of had a bit of an epiphany when coming home tonight. I don't believe that I can turn how I feel on and off like a spiket, but I am trying to distract myself.

I ran into one of my favorite dogs when walking into my apartment building. She's a poodle/cocker mix and she is the greatest dog -- she's always happy, she's always wagging her stubby little tail and I swear that she smiles. She always comes up to me for a pat on the head or a belly rub. I LOVE this dog (I wish I could dognap her).

It's really difficult to be down when I'm around this dog. And my inner critic is nowhere to be found. So I made a list of the things that tame this monster (it never goes completely away): fresh bread baking (although not on passover); homemade tortillas; mariachi music; melting marshmellows over a fire; massages; the smell of fresh lavendar; bubble baths; bats; cats; dogs; horses; octopi; birds; new lipstick; kinky shoes....

See? In the few minutes I wrote that, I was momentarily happy. So, I'm going to put on the rough recording of our songs and keep on writing...

(I would post the rough tracks on the Epiphanette Web site or MS page, but I think either Mike or my inner critic will flog me -- oh yeah!)

I was just a little bothered thinking that I may have inspired a song by a friend and the song did not show either of us in the best of light. It's not the first time that it has happened -- I once had a bandmate who wrote a song about me and it included having me being shot with a gun. Great.

I had to run my hysteria by my friend Dana, who is one of those rare birds who has the perspective that you can turn you around on a dime. She said, "Well, shit, you asked the right person."

She has been the inspiration to many great songs -- some I bet that you know and it was great hearing what she said. Basically, I'll share with you what she wrote on my FB wall:

Quote from the imaginary "Handbook for The Muse" ....we don't inspire WHAT the artist creates....we inspire the artist TO create. It's not about us.......it's about the artist. all we can do is deliver a "kick in the ass" to get the artist moving. we don't even get to choose being a muse

I had to laugh at myself. I realized that what perhaps I am most upset about is that I don't like the song -- it's not something I think is even good. And I haven't really liked any of the songs that I "know" are about me. So I told her that I'm not doing a very good job as a muse and she told me to hang in there -- that in time the flattering songs will balance out the unflattering ones.

As a musician and writer myself I know that other people have been muses for me as well, and perhaps these muses, if they knew/know that they inspired me, would want to put a cowboy boot in my tuchas. I don't think that my (or any artists) songs are literal -- somebody says something, or something happens and it's like a thread that you start unraveling. Only instead of unraveling into *nothing* it unravels into *something* -- that is the magic of art.

Sometimes, I guess, you just have to get something out. Maybe a song is like a burp of indigestion -- who are we to judge? It's just that some artists' belches smell better than others, I suppose.

Take last night at the Utah -- I was INCREDIBLY impressed with Moller, especially their bass line and they've inspired me to rework the way I play.

Roger Rocha, who featured, is always an inspiration, especially when it comes to songwriting and performance. But I was stuck on Ari Gorman -- he's a such a complete musician and he was bowing the cello last night and I was digging the counter melodies -- and I am inspired to work on my chops for Oma.

I don't know where they get their inspiration -- it can be from any damn thing, I suppose. Most of the time, it's from things that make an impression on you for good or bad. In "Rear Window," Grace Kelly's character, Liza, is listening to a composer create a song and she asks Jimmy Stewart's character, "Where does inspiration like that come from?" Stewart responds, "He gets it from his landlady once a month."

So I guess if you happen to be a muse, you should be flattered that you've bothered someone enough. I hope one day I can inspire someone so that they can write or do something good, though. One day...

My brother has been described as a "pioneer in DNA metholation." I can't really translate what metholation is, but he works with data from the human genome project to find statistical modes to cure lung cancer.

He once told me, "Everyone's cells in their body are competing with each other to become a cancer cell."

That's grim -- it's crazy how our own bodies can turn against us.

I don't have to tell you it's a terrible disease -- everyone knows this. There is a tendency to feel sorry for its victims and images of perhaps Wuthering Heights drama and lush violins may come to mind.

I want to share with you about a journey that two friends of mine are undertaking with cancer and you will not feel sorry for them. My friend Dana's husband, Greg, is fighting cancer. He is in his last stages and Dana is grappling with Hospice. They are both realistic and practical about the future.

I admire both of them and they are real life heros-- Greg for fighting so hard and still living life to its fullest; Dana because she is a realistic support for him, and still remains positive and "there" for her friends. They are both incredible people!

As you can imagine, Greg and Dana's battle with cancer is as much a battle with the health care system -- even with insurance, medical bills are piling up. Greg and Dana are producing a benefit CD -- I don't think a name has been chosen, but it will come out in a fortnight (oh yes, and they are putting "Freaks" on the compilation CD). It will cost $20 -- which is probably the best $20 you will spend in the next several months because you not only will be helping Greg and Dana, but you will also have a collection of fantastic local talent. Really!

To read more about Greg and Dana's journey (and to purchase the CD when it's released), please visit www.gogregster.com.

Other unrelated news that I just want to mention here: Epiphanette recorded tracks with Patrick at Pirate Cat Studio. We're not finished, but very soon we will have some decent sounding tracks on the Epiphanette.com site and our MySpace page.

It takes a pessimist to organize a plan to handle a disaster. The problem is, corporations hate hiring pessimists. We're living in a world where throngs of people have their fingers pushed in their ears unless you have happy news to deliver.

I'm not sure if I'm one of those people who see the glass half full or half empty because I tend to be like water and take the form of the glass I'm in. Lately, I've have found myself surround edby people talking about 2012 being the end of the year because the Mayan calendar says so.  (I have written about this before -- and my response has been that the world ended for the Mayans in 1492).

I read an article about Carlos Barrios, a Guatemalan who is Mayan and he's a little pissed about people's misinterpretations about the calendar. He says that the Mayans did predict huge changes when Cortez colonized Central America, and life has not and was not so great for my ancestors in Mexico. Barrios doesn't predict the end of the world, but he does predict that institutions will change as we know them -- and if you haven't noticed that banks are failing and newspapers are folding, I can tell you that it looks like  he may be right.

But I want to take a look at the positive side: the history of food, my second favorite subject. Potatoes, tomatoes and corn are indigenous to the Americas -- but look what the Italians have created with them! And the Spanish tortilla is made of potatoes, and of course, it's the day after St. Patrick's Day, which because it was a cheap crop to grow, became important in Ireland, so much so that it's association with the Emerald Isle is ubiquitous. So because of the discovery of America, there were a lot of good things and a lot of bad things that happened, and for some strange reason, I feel hopeful about this.

And even though my ancestors in Mexico suffered greatly from colonization, I have to say that my grandmother was one of the happiest people I have ever met. I still think of her every day, even though she's passed on. I remember that she laughed a lot, told good jokes, was a hell of cook and she missed the flowers and fruits of her homeland. She had a hard life -- she grew up in a village where she would walk by dead bodies -- casualties of the Mexican revolution, and she was orphaned when she was young -- but she was a happy person. Go genetics.

I wonder how the institutionalization of music will change. Tonight I went to JJ Schultz' Beer Drinkin' Acoustic Night at the Utah and JJ gave away his CDs for free if you signed his e-list (because he says no one is buying CDs anymore). I wonder how we as musicians will be able to promote our art with newspapers folding -- blogs seem diverse and scattered.

What will happen to the independent musician and singer/songwriter?

It's not everyone's cup of tea, I realize. The masses may prefer Miley or Ashley or Brittany, but I still prefer listening to local music, a true slice of Amercana. Tonight, Corey Hennessey played and his music is kind of like he was journaling -- it was a little crazy, but funny, too.

JJ's music is more literary, but he's writing working class ballads about truck driving, drinking and sour relationships. It's good stuff for your soul -- really. My favorite song of JJ's is "Find Me" from "Traveling Songs" -- you should try to find it from Last Stop Records if you can.

My only complaint about the local music scene is that it's difficult to choose which venue to support when several artists are playing on the same night (I wish we could get together and coordinate this, but I suppose it's like herding cats). Lately, I have been supporting San Francisco shows just because I don't trust myself to not faint on BART. And then I try to support the shows that either I think will need the support, or because it's a particularly favorite artist.

The Utah building looks like a saloon out of Gold Rush San Francisco. I don't really know how old it is, but it makes its home on the bottom part of an old Victorian on Fourth and Bryant streets - which used to be skid row, back in the day I hear. Now it's in rather hip Soma.

The wooden floors are stained with beer and who know what else -- the walkways are narrow and it's a small venue. After getting carded at the door, turn right and you can either walk two steps down to the stage area where the open mic happens, or upstairs to an upper deck. The outside of the upstairs looks like the bow of a small ship. Go up there an you'll face eye to eye with a fiberglass mermaid pinned to the upper center wall above the stage.

She's sexy -- Polynesian, bare-breasted, and an icon of the bar as well as the open mic crowd. People prayer to her, and lately, I have, too. It looks like the crowd of 80+ was not a New Year's fluke -- it's still quite busy. When I helped JJ write down the order of the artists as he drew names out of a plastic pitcher, he told me to make three columns.

Lucky for me, I drew 8, which was a very good number indeed. I was able to debut "The Hillary Step" (and it will be posted on the Utah Web site on Wednesday at www.theutah.org). I can't say that my voice was cooperating, but that's how it goes. I was able to plug Epiphanette's show on Wednesday (although I understand that it will be late for many who have to work -- and for those of you out there who came up to me to explain -- it's okay! I don't and won't hold it against anybody -- I understand since I, too, have a day job). In fact, I'll be taking Thursday off so I'm not acting like a half-wit at work (which is what's been happening lately).

The Hillary Step is a song I've been working on for MONTHS and finally got it to a point where I'm happy with it. Sort of (I don't know if I'm really ever super happy about what comes out of me -- I'm already sick and tired of Wonder Woman and am ready to retire it).

The first melody that came out of me was maudlin -- extraordinarly dramatic and syrupy. So I had to put it away until I could forget it and then start over. It's about how relationships/friendships are like climbing a mountain. The mountain that I am writing about is Everest -- and the most technical part of the climb is the Hillary Step (named after Sir Edmond Hillary, a Kiwi!). If you make it past the Hillary Step, more than likely you'll summit the mountain -- unless you do something completely stupid (which I probably would -- I'm not genetically programmed for high altitudes I'm sure -- Tahoe makes me whoozy).

But I like reading about Everest, and even though I will never take up mountain climbing (except at a climbing gym), I can still appreciate its beauty and difficulty. It's certainly worth a song.

New songs must be in the air. GG Tanaka and Honeybody Moonbeam debuted new songs, too. And I stayed for Great Girls Blouse -- I really love Amy's voice!

I didn't stay too long, though. I haven't been feeling well (more about that later in another blog) and I need to conserve my energy for Wednesday's show at Thee Parkside.

Comedy and Tony Stark's gauntlet: you know, I think I'm doing what I always do when I'm stressed -- I start dividing myself and my energy. This is NOT the time for me to take on one more intense project. It's tempting, but I think I need to concentrate on my music, hold my attentions steady, stop running away and start taking my music seriously. (Thanks Dave G for giving me your two cents last week -- it made a huge inpact on my choice).

I'll just try to find humor in the small things in life -- like the Wall Street Journal "TV" they installed in the elevator where I work my day job. It's like the Angel of Death of bad news -- NYSE posts largest losses, Jobless rate reaches an all time high, XYZ lays off 50% of its work force -- never any good news. I think it would a lot more uplifting if they played adult swim on the elevators before we went to work. We'd all be less informed, but happier.

But I digress...

You know the definistion of insanity is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results. Water flows easiest where its worn a path through the rock.

My number at the Utah last night needed a rocket to reach it -- it was stratopheric. Of course, I could have *helped* matters by participating in the writing about your hometown theme night -- but I didn't (and I lied to you because I wrote that I would -- never trust a bass playing, word-slinging insomniac).

My hometown song -- I wrote it on the guitar and I am a bass player and did not feel comfortable playing the guitar. And, I wanted to break out my new song "The Hillary Step," which has taken me weeks to write (and now I can concentrate on writing lyrics to Laurel's song).

Andy Mason (www.andymasonmusic.org) was the feature and it was fantastic -- take a listen on the Utah Website (www.theutah.org) after Wednesday to JJ's podcast.  Also of note: Roger Rocha wrote a song that night about his hometown (San Francisco) and it was very good. So did Mike Chase -- more about Berkeley, where he grew up, and more comedic than anything.

Which was sort of inspirational -- I'm starting to gather ideas about what I can do at the comedy OM at the Brainwash. However, I may not be ready by Thursday -- we'll see how it goes. Life these days, at least as far as art goes, is rather spontaneous. Everyone -- I mean everyone in my little circle of the planetarium -- thinks it's a great idea to combine bass/comedy (not forsaking Epiphanette) -- and of course everyone has offered me advice on how to do it. (Thanks for the advice -- I probably won't be slinging one-liners about musicians -- which I won't repeat -- if you're a musician, you've heard about 99% of them before).

Interesting journey.

So speaking of stratopheric numbers -- I've been perseverating on Pluto lately  -- now that it has been *downgraded* do we even still capitalize it? Here's the thing -- what does it do to astrology now that Pluto has been "kicked off the island," so to speak?

According to astrologers, it's a miserable, slow-moving planet that bumps around your chart like a bull in a china shop. Does this "downgrade" lessen that affect? And then I was thinking about astrology and all the planets and I was wondering what ancient astrologers did before Gallileo discovered planets? I  mean, what did the Mayans base their astrological calendar on?

The latter is important because I have a lot of friends (and one particular relative), who insist that 2012, according to the Mayan calendar, is going to be apocalyptic. However, I want to point out that they for the Mayans that was more like 1492.  The world is changing like never before (as far as we know it) that's for sure -- water is becoming more precious, the economy is going through a plutonian cycle, and the world is less connected to people. (Did you think you would get through one of my blogs without any doom and gloom?).

I don't have any answers except that I think you should go out and meet as many real people as you can (and yes, it is ironic that this is written on MySpace -- please note that I do actually know 98% of the adds on my MS page -- which is probably why I don't seem too popular). Number two, go and support local live music and local art -- it's another way to connect with your community.

(And I can't believe I'm still not sleepy at 4:51 a.m. -- I think I'll go make some eggs).

Tonight Tony Sparks threw down a gauntlet at the Brainwash Cafe, and I've picked it up, am examining it and trying to figure out what the hell to do with it.

I haven't performed comedy in five years and it was so important for me to shake off some dust and get back out there. I am first and foremost a musician, but there are things that comedy can do that for me that music cannot. I'm afraid that it looks like I will not be able to finish this lifetime without either.

Some of you may know that I have been trying to shake the blues -- great for the songwriting, but not exactly a great thing to experience. (Thanks to those of you who have sent me kind notes and have really been there for me).

The only thing, really, that has ever helped me relieve stress is comedy. Not just watching, but performing. I don't even care if people like me, to be honest. It's the "doing" it that is probably the equivalent of some mountaineers climbing a mountain, or on a lesser level, someone working out at the gym.

I was a little suprised when Tony Sparks asked me if I was from the SF Comedy College. I didn't want to admit it -- I was kind of embarrassed that I did take classes in Sacramento, and then I took off on my own from there. I didn't realize that the "school" had branded me for a certain style, one which it seemed to me, he did not favor, but perhaps was being too polite?

I talked to him after my set -- I did fine -- like I said, I didn't kill, but I think I rolled with the punches well enough. I asked Tony about what he said and admitted that I had taken some classes with the SFCC (after all, comedy is about truth). He said that the SFCC has a certain style that he can easily recognize, which really bummed me out. But he also said that if I keeping coming to the Brainwash and working out there, I will improve.

I gave him a flyer to the next Epiphanette show, and told him I was a musician and he was surprised. He then asked me if I ever brought my bass into my act. I told him I always seperated the two.

And that's so me -- I have compartmentalized my life into little bits on a plate -- kind of like a Jewish sedar, where none of the food is supposed to touch. I have "Daytime Tanya" -- the career efficient flak battling journalists by day, playing bass secretly at night; there's "Tiki Musician" playing bass, trying to write sensitive songs and trying to form a meaningful band; now "Funny Broken Tiki" is reemerging onto the scene.

For people who REALLY know me, they know that I do not like divulging the ALL of me to any one person. I always hold a little part of myself back from everyone, except my family, who probably know me too well and throw back their heads, raise their arms and say, "Ay, mi gente." I am very good at distracting people with a lot of useless information (as you can see from my blog).

Maybe the reason why comedy can be like an aural enima is the fact that it only works when it's truthful.

I'm not sure how to shed this "SFCC" style that Tony mentioned, but I am very interested in trying. I love it when somebody throws me a bone to chew on, or tells me I can't do something (which I want to point out, wasn't anybody at the Brainwash tonight), or doesn't think much of me. I love a challenge.

The best artist I've seen ever to incorporate music and comedy is Nick Stargu "DJ Real" who I can never, ever try to compare or imitate. He is an absolute genious, and I have a different kind of pain so I will have to create something different. No pressure.

So Tony "suggested" that I bring my bass into my act. "You can talk while you play, can't you?" Well I can sing while I play. That has to be harder, isn't it? He asked me why I haven't combined the two arts. I don't have an answer for that -- I'm sure there's something pathological in me that wants to seperate. Perhaps it's time for a marriage of sorts. Tony said, "Don't you want to make it? Don't you want to stand out?"

Well, yes and no. My ambition is always to create and be in the moment. I love it when people like what I'm doing, but I do get a little nervous about being successful. Because being successful is like dropping a penny into a wishing well. So what if I want something so badly and for reasons out of my control, I don't get it -- what could this possibly do to my already fragile psyche? I think I am afraid.

 I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm intrigued with this. And I am throwing away all my material from the last five years. Seems tainted. And of course, I will keep plugging away at my music, which is the most wonderful thing that I can do.