Bill is a bunny

Tuesday, September 20, 2005


To continue where we left off earlier, I am trying to put myself in my bandmates shoes here. Initially this was pretty difficult as the barely contained anger of the previous post should indicate. I don't like being talked to the way I was being talked to last night. It did not seem to come from a constructive place. Just a "I-am-pissed-and-won't-listen-to-anything-else" place. Luckily, I tried my best to listen to what he was more or less yelling at me, rather than waiting to talk or tuning him out. I stand by what I did at the show Friday, I'm even rather proud of it from a performance aspect. Despite technical difficluties we persevered as an entertaining and challengeing rock act. I understand that my desire to push buttons and be confrontational can be hard to understand all the time (especially when you cannot hear what I'm saying. The addition of some choice Lenny Bruce quotes to "Hey Ma (I Ain't No Faggot)" were no doubt lost on my bandmate).

What he was trying to enphasize to me was a feeling of betrayal; one that I had not anticipated. His strong, and in my opinion misguidedly sensitive, opinions regarding the subject matter of the song in question blew this sense of betrayal out of proportion. I (basically) did something I (more or less) said I would not do. Something tells me there's more to this than meets the eye. Maybe there's some sublimation of another preceived betrayal going on here though what and who are involved are up to specualtion. And judging from my reaction last night to his speculations regarding me and my life it would be hypocritical of me to do to him what he did to me last night. I will go on the record here and now by saying my drinking and drug use have radically downsized in the last two months, particularly at shows. They certainly have not stopped but I do not believe that they are impairing my ability to perform my duties in this band. Whether or not that is appreciated is not the point. I know what I know and that is enough (Well, almost. Why would I be sharing this stuff here if my personal knowledge was all that mattered?)

In closing, I feel a tad ambushed by what occurred last night, a bit hurt and more than a little angry. But that won't affect the band . If he meant what he said about staying in the band, etc but no longer being my friend then so be it. The loss of this particular friendship won't change too terribly much in my life (the only "quality" time I've ever speant with this individual outside of band related endeavors would amount to playing Halo almost a year ago, which further exaserbates my irritation at some of his comments regarding my personal life). Life is good and life goes on. And I ain't changing.

Patience and its svelte figure

Last night after band practice I was blocked in by one of my band members who proceeded to tear me a new one regarding a song we played at a gay bar Friday night. The gist of it was how pissed he was that I told him I would change the lyrics but did not (the name of the song in question is "Hey Ma (I Ain't No Faggot)", a clever use of double negative). He also proceeded to tell me how upset he was that I would use that lyric in front of a predominantly homosexual audience and that he was not upset because he had come to expect this sort of behavior from me. I say I'll do something and not do the exact opposite, etc. He did not want to hear a rebuttal from me and said we were no longer friends. We could be in the band together but that would be as far as it goes from here on out because he could no longer trust me.

Of course I was upset by all this and fumed for many hours afterward trying to come up with a rebuttal even if he would never hear it. Then I stopped. Honestly, I know I'm in the right here with the exception of the not changing the lyrics part (which I did in the verses, but of course I knew he meant the chorus of "Hey, Ma I ain't no faggot; The queers suck me" The lines come from John Water's film "Pecker" if you're curious). I figure to not do the song in front of a gay audience is hypocritical; like I wouldn't use the "What the river has done to these poor niggers, man" line in "Louisiana 1927" in front of an African American. I know where I stand. More later.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

I had too much to dream last night

Sorry about the lack of updates lately. I've been very busy at wok, etc. and the stress has been building. Which I suppose leads us to this post.

I woke up this morning at 5:00 absolutely terrfied by a dream I had just had. I was in Hot Springs Arkansas with Ronnie Vidrine for the documentary film festival. There was some kind of awards ceremony going on at one of the hotels downtown and I skipped out because I already knew that Mike Leigh's "Naked" would win ("Naked" is not a documentary by the way) I walked around town a bit and started to hear screaming in this residential neighborhood. Curious, I went to investigate and see if I could help. I saw fires burning in a row of town houses and heard poeple yelling about a virus outbreak and how they had to kill the infected before it spread. A ctrowd was beginning to form on the satreet so I ran back to the hotel to get Ronnie and get the fuck outta there. We started down a side street and all the lights went out. Like, street lights and everything. I grabbed Ronnie's hand so we wouldn't get seperated and we found ourselves in somebody's driveway. I saw a little girl and began to worry because I knew we couldn't leave her where she was (her parents were lying in pools of blood by the backyard swimming pool. You could see them through the carport) Then the little girl fell over in front of us without saying a word because someone had cut her throat too. We ran into the house looking for something, anything that coiuld help us get the hell out of whatever the fuck we had stumbled into. Then I heard a toilet flush in one of the bathrooms cloe by. Ronnie and I ran into a laundrey room and turned on a waher and dryer to cover our sounds then busted out a screen in a windo and leapt back out into the carport of this house.

Then I woke up. I was scared, man. Really scared. It felt really real, y'know? I almost couldn't get out of bed for fear that the apartment complex would be in ruins and I would have to defend myself against machete weilding mobs of-what? People? The worst thing about the dream was the "virus" or whatever was impossible to identify. I had never heard of it before the yelling and screaming. How were the killers identifying the infected? Did it matter to them? Just an excuse to kill other people.

I told my mom about my dream this motrning and she said it probably came out of this whole Katrina business and the images that are flowing through the media. She may be right. Watching the remake of Dawn of the Dead again I was struck by how horrifying such a situation resally would be if it was really REAL. When I was younger I could imagine nothing better than living through a zombie plague. Now I just don't think so.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

And we continue...

I've retreated to another classroom with a computer to finish my thoughts on this weekend in Shreveport. Mars Vegas (or Ghost Town Flood) were mucho fun. They allowed me to get up and introduce them which felt quite gratifying. Louisiana 1927 mixed with Orange Claw Hammer by Captain Beefheart. I clambered back onstage to howl during their last song too. Those guys are swell and I count myself lucky to have them as friends. Redshift were neato, Dirtfoot continues to be a reliable good time and there was a strange and beautiful bluesman in the front room at some point during the show. Carter was a superb host as always, buying me my first drink of the evening and making me feel like a guest of honor. The artwork upstair at the Soundstage was pretty cool too but my funds got depleted pretty fast and I couldn't properly bid on anything. Sara drove us back to Chris' house where I found that Chris Brown had discovered my Stooges CDs and was in the process of copying one of them. He didn't return it to its case so I left it there for his further enjoyment. But I want it back CB! I've got your copy of Let It Blurt the biography of Lester Bangs and am holding it for ransom until you make with the music!

We've got some new students from New Orleans here today and they seem kinda scared. Can't blame them really, junior high is a pretty frightening place when you already have friends. Imagine not knowing anyone and being in a strange city. I'll do my best to look out for them. But ultimately it's sink or swim. Oh God, I am so going to hell for that...

Great fun in SHreveport for a good cause

Ronnie Vidrine and I went to Shreveport for a Hurricane Katrina Relief benefit concert Sunday night and had a smashing time. Shreveport is one of those enlightened cities in Louisiana that permits the sale of alchol on Sundays so we gt rip roaring drunk and danced our asses off and listened to the cream of the SHreveport music crop. I danced like a fool and got to chat up plenty of cool folks (including Noma!)

I want to go on the record here and say that The Vidrines would have been overjoyed t6o play but could not due to the prior obligations of our guitarist. We would have played for free. We didnot not play because we were not being paid. That's bullroar and anyone who says that is full of it. There! Now that's out of the way.

I got to hang with Jeremy Jay (Chris' brother) I had not seen him in years and it did my heart good to speak with him at length. I wish Chris' camera hadn't run out of juice before we completed the interview. More to come later. 8th grade just came into the library.

Friday, September 02, 2005

They're trying to wash us away

I'll just echo Chris Jay's comments earlier today. I feel overwhelmed by the situation we find ourselves in after Hurricane Katrina. Many of my friends from the New Orleans area are back in Monroe now, sleeping on couches, in guest bedrooms or camped out in backyards. Many of them are feeling more than a little lost and my attempts at levity are misguided at best, insulting at worst. There really isn't anything funny about this situation and for a person who thrives on humor like yours truly it can be a bit disorienting to say the least. The Monroe City School system is about to be swamped with refugee children from New Orleans and the prospect of 200 new students on Tuesday is kinda frightening.

A song by Randy Newman from the Good Old Boys album keeps popping into my head and making me tear up. It's called "Louisiana 1927"

Something happened down here
Guess the wind has changed
Clouds rolled in from the gulf and it starts to rain
It rained real hard and it rained for a real long time
There are six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline

They're trying to wash us away
They're trying to wash us away

The river rose all day
The river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood
Other folks got away alright
The river has busted through clear down to Placamine
There are six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline

They're trying to wash us away
They're trying to wash us away

President Coolidge came down on a railroad train
With a little fat man with a notepad in his hand
President Collidge said "Little fat man ain't it a shame,
What the river has done to this poor cracker's land?"

They're trying to wash us away
They're trying to wash us away
They're trying to wash us away
They're trying to wash us away

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Work Hazards

Well, it has happened: the little boogers gave me a cold. Yep I'm siffling, sneezing, coughing up multi-colored goo and my head feels like a junkie's used cotton swab. I figured this would happen at some point working with kids but I had no idea it would be this soon. Really couldn't have happened at a worse time either. It's almost Labor Day weekend and I missed band practice last night. I'll have to reap the whirlwind from Reve no doubt. Ug! That guy is a barrel of laughs most days but if you displease him it's like having my grandfather rise from the grave to twist my ear. We may or may not have shows this weekend and I don't know. We have new songs that I should have been there to rehearse. We had decisions to make dammit! And I dropped the ball. I woke up in my old bed and my folks place and could tell by the sun's place in the sky I had overslept. And said cold kept me snuggled under the blankets for as long as possible.

Well, nothing for it but to pull up my britches and keep and plugging away. I'll call Reve to take my medicine from him later today and get the scoop regarding our weekend plans. Hopefully he's not too pissed and will still feel magnanimous enough to help me dump the video of the Christmas interviews onto a DVD so I can start editing it at home. Then onward and upward to SHreveport for some Red Cross benefit shows and hopefully some fun. Wish me luck with this cold. And with the kids today. I'm feeling mean.