Living in the moment

I'm going into the woods again. One of my best friends and I are leading a 10 day canoe trip into the Boundary Waters. We plan to travel over 120 miles, we've got 4 campers age 14-15 with us. I'm keeping a journal. There will be a post following our return, for real this time. We leave in 10 minutes. Once again, I'm posting from the bathroom. I'll talk to you all when I get back. Have a great two weeks. Much love.

P.S.

Thank you Sam and Carolyn for the mail. It brightened my day more than you can imagine. Also, I made a point to open it while I was in the bathroom just so I could write this post and tell you that I opened your mail while I was pooping. That is all, send me more mail and I will open it while pooping. Ask for my address, I don't want to post it here.

Another Session

Yes, thats right, another batch of chillin's are headed home tomorrow. We did the closing ceremony song and dance, said some teary goodbyes, and are all set to give them them ol' heave-ho onto the buses tomorrow. What will follow will hopefully be something akin to the "town run" scene from Wet Hot American Summer. "It's great to get away, even for an hour." We've got plans for some july 3rd shenanigans. Since camp starts again at 8:30 on the morning of the 5th, the night of the 4th wont be much of a party night, but I think either the night of the 3rd or 4th we will be be making some sort of exodus down to Duluth, either for fireworks or playing on the beach, drinking a beer, or a delightful combination of the three. If you're around, give me a call and I'll try to migrate to someplace at which we can connect, whoever you are.

This session was fantastic. I worked incredibly hard, and I can feel it. My upper body strength is way up, I'm tired, I've got a Chaco tan that is like night and day on my feet, and it's evident from the smiles on my camper's faces that I did something right. I got the chance to lead field training for other Ropes Course personnel, which involved practicing the emergency lowering of a panicked climber from our high circuit course, which is mounted in a cluster of old growth white pine trees 40 feet in the air...which, by the way, is where I ate my lunch today. I had to be out on the High Ropes course all day so my brother (who works in the kitchen) made me a bag lunch which consisted of 3 PB&Js and an apple. It felt like grade school, only way fucking cooler and 40 feet in the air.

I seriously love my job. I play with rope and knots all day, I get to help kids achieve what they don't think/know they can achieve, and I get to climb trees and stuff. At the end of the day I get to hang out with other woodsy/nerdy people my age who are more or less at the same place in their lives as I. I got to sail for a good 2 hours on two separate occasions this session. My friend Joe and I took out a pair of Catalina 12.5's on medium wind evenings. For reference, Catalinas are basically bathtubs with big sails on them, and even an idiot (read: me) can sail them. We spent a good long time zipping back and forth across the lake enjoying the wondrous feeling one gets when one's only means of propulsion is nature itself. The excitement wore off when Joe realized his boat smelled like pee...and he was sitting in it.

Okay time change. It's the next morning now and I'm back to writing this. Last night was a great night, I had some great talks with some great people. At the last night ceremony campers get the chance to write what are called Firewalk letters to two different counselors. We as counselors write back to the campers and the letters are mailed back to the campers around December (right around when registration opens for the next summer...) I received a decent stack of firewalks this session, and all of them were from the girls in my Ropes activities, thanking me for encouraging them to push their limits and achieve more than they thought they could. Ego boost? Yes.

So, my friends, the Independence day plans are as follows. We (a group of indeterminate size) are going to hang out on camp for some of today and trek down to Duluth either tonight or tomorrow for fireworks and fun. Hit me up if there's something going on either night. I'll be rolling with a decent sized group of incredibly cool camp people that I promise you would love to meet, and we'd love some local company. Keep me posted Duluthatantes. Much love.

He lives, he's hairy.

Hi, I'm at camp. Yeah, it's been over a month since I've posted last, but you all know, some better than others, that I am terrible at communicating from camp. I'm doing much better this year. I'm doing my best to return phone calls, but alas, I'm basically active from 8am until around 10pm, at which point I end up either crashing immediately or going on some sort of adventure with friends, whether it be canoeing in the middle of the night and watching stars or jamming with a variety of instruments.

It's been a fun few weeks thus far. The first week was fun with about 5 people on camp total. We went out for drinks and talked about the summer to come. The next week the rest of the staff showed up and it was basically a party. When you put 60 like minded camp-type people together with no campers, there's bound to be fun. It was great to watch the younger staff (17-18 year olds) of the different gender camps meet for the first time. Safe to say, there were many bets, on who would hook up, and many hook ups did indeed happen. We're not talking about "Wet Hot American Summer" type hookups, we're better people than that, most of the time.

The first bunch of girls got here last sunday and left friday. All of them were great kids, and I had a blaston the ropes courses. I've finally found an activity where I feel like I'm really making a difference in kids lives. There's only so much satisfaction that comes from teaching a kid how to tie a lanyard or showing someone how to indentify poison ivy. But there is something incredibly rewarding about watching a group of kids work together to overcome personal obstacles and helping kids conquer their fear of heights and push themselves further than they think they can go. Plus I got to rescue a terrified 6 year old girl from the top of the climbing wall. She made it all the way up but then froze on the way down when she was supposed to let go of the wall and ride the rope down. It took us 20 minutes to talk this girl down off the wall, she ended up climbing her way half way down and finally let go, tears streaming down her face. I caught her and set her on the ground and she thanked me for helping her. Sense of accomplishment? Yes.

So, I'm safe, I'm happy. I'm having the time of my life, I'm hairy too. I haven't shaved in several weeks, and if you squint really hard, you can almost pretend that I have a full beard. Someday I will be a real man. If my camera was charged, I would post pictures, but its not so I wont. Such is life.

There are many more things I could write about, but it's a lot to write so I'll give you a list of topics to chose from. We'll go by votes. Who knows, I might even post again before the summer is over.

Here are the stories I could write about:

-Alien/Poacher/Search for lost 6 year old boy lights on the horizon in the middle of the night.
-Drunken Night on the town V1.0
-Drunken Night V2.0 (improved flavor, cool new look, located in Plymouth)
-The night I shaved my head (that's actually the extent of the story really)
-Camp Drama etc.
-Getting oodles of drugs from the Virginia Clinic after possibly coming down with strep
-More "Ghetto Clinic" adventures
-Shirts off 'o'clock

Perhaps more, I'm distracted by a suggested jump in the lake. It's hot and humid at 12:20 in the morning, and that is my only qualm with camp. That and being sick and having no voice. And there are wolves chasing me. Send me an email, send me some mail. No really, send me mail, I swear to god I'll send you something back. Shoot me an email or a text or something and I'll give you the address. There is nothing cooler than getting mail at camp, and so far all I've recieved is a medical bill and a sound magazine.

I love you all and I can't wait to see you again.

Much love.

Going for a walk

Rob and I are going hiking today. We'll be back early next week. My camera is coming. I will blog about it. Clayton out.

You called my bluff.

You win Fuller. It was a ruse. I don't have the gumption to post that often. But hey, here's my playlist anyway. I had a guest DJ this week, the starred songs are from her collection.

Ratatat - Gettysburg
*Radiohead - High and dry
*Jump, Little Children - My guitar
Foo Fighters - Breakout
*Rufus Wainwright - Across the universe
RHCP - Tear
*Gazillion - Confidence
Muse - Exo-politics
Incubus - Anna Molly
*Beck - Paper tiger
Green Day - Last ride in
Mason Jennings - Darkness between the fireflies
DJ BC - Anna's MCs
Mars Volta - Drunkship of lanterns
Vaious Artists - Hit 'em High (Space Jam Soundtrack...bitches)
Grateful Dead - Hard to handle (Fillmore East Feb 13 1970) *vinyl*
*Iron and Wine - Teeth in the grass
Phish - Farmhouse
RHCP - Throw away your television
Crew jones - Bohemian grove
Coldplay - Brothers and sisters
Amateur love - I need you now
Low - Violent Past
*Sia - Breathe me
The Bad Plus - 1972 bronze medalist
Smashing Pumpkins - Today
Ben Folds - Time
G-love and Special Sauce - Gimme some lovin'

I'll probably be back to the regular time again next week, sadly. I think they found a replacement for Zozo (you know know, for sho' sho'.)

Until then, who knows, I might actually post a real blog entry. Wouldn't that just be a dilly of a pickle?

This one's for the haters

The title of this post is directed at one Fullalove who decided to take me off her regular blog-reading circuit and demote me to bi-weekly checking status. While you Photoshop fiends have been out lollygagging around on luckdragons, I've been patiently waiting for the delivery of a new keyboard, as my old one seems to have a serious issue when it comes to having liquid spilled on it. Who knew? So, Ms. Fuller, you can take me off your regular rounds, but think about what you might miss now that I've got a new keyboard. I dare you to not check this blog daily, I triple dog dare you.

It's nice to be back on the internet on my actual computer, rather than that toy of a laptop.

I've been taking pictures the last few weeks and I haven't shown them to anyone. I've got this affinity for photographing audio equipment. I just think it photographs well.


I was driving down Mesaba with my roommate a week ago and saw what was probably the coolest weather phenomenon I've come across in this town.


I really like the above photo. When I took it, it didn't look like it had turned out well when I previewed it on my camera, so I wrote it off. I'm happy with how it turned out, and it's more than likely destined for my desktop background.


Same subject, different composition. This one is less artsy, but it gives you a better idea of the scale of this fog-wall. Dan Sarles must have had his hands full.
Fuzzier picture taken while coming down mesaba. My roommate snapped this while extended halfway out the passenger side window while I was doing 20 with a line of traffic behind us.

And finally, this is the Glory Hole. It is real. There has been no photoshopping here. Look it up. It is awesome.

Expect more blogs this week. Who knows when I'll post again, you might have to check every day, Sarah Fuller.

Yeah I know

I'll get to it, I'll get to it. I blog when I want, bitch. Here's last week's playlist.

DJ BC - Let it beast
The Servant - Cells
Youngblood Brass Band - March
RJD2 - Murs beat
The Shins - Caring is creepy
Soul Coughing - Super bon bon
Of montreal - Faberge falls for shugie
Beck - Go it alone
Low - Death of a salesman
The Strokes - Under control
Amateur Love - Say your mine
John Frusciante - Leap your bar
Ratatat - El pico
Muse - Micro cuts
AC/DC - Rock and roll ain't noise pollution
Of Montreal - We were born again...
Pink Floyd - Shine on you crazy diamonds (I-V)
---early end---

Yeah, I decided to end it early, no one was listening and I was feeling like garbage. I've had this sinus infection for at least a week and a half now and and the worst symptom by far is that I can't pop my ears. This makes for a very grouchy audio engineer, let me tell you. But since I'm pretty sure you (whoever you are) didn't hear the show, you'll have to check out these tracks on your own, or hit me up for them. I don't care who you are or if we've met before, send me an IM (claytron1313) and I'll shoot you any of these tracks that you want...unless you're the RIAA, in which case, look over there.

Some must-hear tracks

Check out the new DJ BC and the Beastles. He released a new album Let it Beast that's simply fantastic. It's the same style with a totally new set of excellent Beatles songs and Beastie Boys beats/lyrics.

Youngblood Brass Band. Wow, just listen to that one track. March. It hits like a train. Just ask and ye shall recieve.

Soul Coughing. You remember them right? Come on, go listen to them some more. They're good.

John Frusciante is amazing, and nine out of ten dentists agree. Be careful if you listen to Leap Your Bar once, because you will immediately listen to it again. And again. It only gets worse from there. It's such a powerful song, and the strain in his voice carries the lyrics "Life is so saaaaad, life is so saaaaad" straight through your heart. You. Have. To. Listen. To. It.
Get if from me, get it from Anniemosity, just get it. And then check out his other stuff. He's released something like 7 albums outside of RHCP.

Pink Floyd. Warning: May induce hallucinations in the unprepared. Turn the stereo up, sit between the speakers, and let all of Wish You Were Here play out. Yes, it's cliche, but cliches are cliches for a reason.

Finally, if you're into hip hop at all, you should check out 300 Bars by The Game. It's him rapping for 300 measure without a break, and it's jaw dropping. 300 measures comes out to about 14 minutes of non stop rapping. That 10th dentist who didn't like Frusciante? He's just too thug to like anything other than The Game.

-Miller Out

A playlist? You shouldn't have...

So basically last night turned in to request night. A few friends of mine were at this big party and talked the host into turning on my radio show for the whole party. Needless to say I was bombarded by requests and shout outs for the entire night. I would have liked to have played more of my music, but hey, I had a room full of drunks listening to my show for the first time, can you say fanbase expansion? I caved and played a slew of requests, giving shout outs to my friends at the party, and basically filling the roll of a party DJ. As you can tell by the playlist, I played a lot more mainstream stuff than I did new stuff, but apparently my efforts paid off. This group of 15+ people is going to make a weekly ritual of getting drunk as skunks listening to my radio show. I'll start easing them into some newer less-than-mainstream stuff in the coming weeks. Here's the playlist. Requests are starred, and the ones with #s are songs I played because I knew the crowd at the party would like them.

1. Tomoyasu Hotei - Battle without honor or humanity

2. MC DJ - Chi-town
   

3. #Nas - Can't forget about you

4. Cake - Let me go
   

5. RHCP - Especially in Michigan
   

6. *Muse - Hysteria
   

7. #Green Day - F.O.D.
   

8. #Ben Harper - Excuse me Mr.
   

9. *Led Zeppelin - Black dog
   

10. Ronnie James Dio - Dream on
    

11. *Stevie Ray Vaugn - Little wing
    

12. #Buckwheat Zydeco - Ma 'tit fille
    

13. *...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead - All white
    

14. #Muse - Exo-politics
    

15. *Nas - Hip hip is dead
    

16. #DJ BC - Whatcha want lady?
    

17. *Matisyahu - King without a crown
    

18. *Weezer - Only in dreams
    

19. *Ben Harper - Burn one down
    

20. The Beatles - Norwegian wood
    

21. *Pink Floyd - Hey you
    

22. Jon Frusciante - The past receeds
    

23. #David Bowie - Life on mars
    

24. #Sigur Ros - Staralfur
    

25. *Pink Floyd - The great gig in the sky
    

26. Tupac Ft. Nas - Thugz mansion (Acoustic remix)
    

It's all good music, yes. Would I have played it all anyway...no, simply because I try not to play songs you can hear if you listen to 102.5 THE BEAR for more than an hour.

Tune in next week, I'm setting up a guest DJ hour with my brother and his girlfriend, and they have fantastic taste in music. I'll blog for real this week too, I swear.

A long time coming

I love this town…I think. But I don’t think this is the place for me anymore. I’m in a major I don’t want to be in taking classes that aren’t for me. I’m still where I am because I’m afraid of the drastic change that comes with transferring schools, or studying abroad, or what have you. Right this moment, I want to take the credits I’m accumulated thus far and somehow apply them at another school that actually offers an intensive sound engineering/production degree program. I don’t want the work and money I’ve put into my college education thus far to go completely to waste. I want to transfer to a school that’s going to allow me to throw my heart and soul into my studies, and that means an intensive audio school. I’m investigating several schools. Columbia College in Chicago, McNally Smith School of Music in St. Paul, and the Institute of Production and Recording somewhere in the cities. There are dozens if not hundreds of schools across the country that offer degrees in sound design, but with the way my GPA looks right now, many of them are out of my league, pending some sort of deep conversation and mind-trickery with an admissions officer. I just want to be passionate about school. I haven’t had that feeling in so long, school to me is a task, it’s something I don’t want to do. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. College is supposed to be a stepping stone into a desired life, not simply a hurdle to overcome before life can start.

I feel like I’m finally at a point where I can leave Duluth. Who knows if I’ll feel this way next week, or tomorrow for that matter. But right now, as I write this I feel like I can leave Duluth and everything I love about it, knowing that I might someday come back, or even meet up with the people that make me love Duluth somewhere down the road. Most of the people that make Duluth so great for me are about to leave anyway, if they haven’t already left. I think I’m done with this town, for now. I want to be somewhere else starting after summer. Hell, maybe I’ll go somewhere else for the summer too. Camp is still an option. I could move all my stuff back home to Minneapolis and work at camp for the entire summer, then set up shop in Chicago or Minneapolis come fall. I couldn’t possibly live with my parents, but there are at least a couple of options open to me already as far as living in the cities.

I’ve had this thing against moving to the cities, because so many people seem to be trying to get me to do it. I want to move to the cities because it’s what I want to do, not because people tell me to. I think I’m getting to that point though. There are a lot of appealing things about the cities, and even more appealing things about Chicago. First of all, the school offers Bachelors degree in Audio Arts and Acoustics. Second, I talked to an admissions counselor at great length yesterday, and even with my poor GPA, I stand a very good chance at getting into Columbia as a transfer student, and a lot of my general ed credits will transfer. Third, every single class in the curriculum made me say “ooh, I would love to learn more about that.” I wish I could say the same for my classes at UMD.

This blog was written in two sittings a week and a half apart. It’s a little disjointed, I’ll post a followup today or tomorrow.

A newer, calmer blog

Right. Glad I took care of that. My apologies for the previous post (if you haven't read it, read it first, it's pretty cranky.) It's amazing what a Cuban Cigar, a bit of cognac and a sunrise will do for one's nerves.

I wrote the last blog, tried to sleep, failed. I grabbed the cigar that one of our regulars gave me last night, poured a glass, and set out for the porch. I realized, seeing the first faint glimmer of sunlight peeking out over the trees, that I wasn't going to get to sleep before work at 10am. I decided to drive down to canal park and enjoy the sunrise, which has thus far been the best decision I've made all day.

It started simple.

Starting to see some development.


This is around the time people start making deep, meaningful realizations. I'm glad to say I made a few myself.


Incorporate some scenery for extra special meaningfulness.


And that should just about wrap it up for the visual stimuli.

Twelve tremendous purchases at Perkins and one disheartening and unnecessary discovery later, I'm here blogging after 20 hours of being awake, 12 spent working. Enjoy your Sunday.

I was robbed

I just finished working for 12 hours straight. I made $65 in tips. I am not very happy. In fact, I would make somewhere near that $65 on an above average Saturday night from 8pm till 3am. Today I worked from 3pm till 3am. Today was St. Patrick's day, and the entire fucking city was drunk in my bar and tipping well. We broke every record we've ever set as far as income and tips. But somehow I still made the same amount of money, despite working 5 hours longer, and much, much harder.
To give you an idea of the amount of people who were drinking at our bar tonight: on an average busy Saturday night, we'll go through maybe 4 or 5 kegs of beer, 7 at the most. Tonight we emptied Twenty Five kegs. That is 3,875 pints of beer, not to mention the gallons of hard liquor we went through. The point here is, the bar made a fucking-shit-ton of money tonight (not to be confused with fuck-ton, or shit-ton.)
I would have made somewhere in the neighborhood of $100 tonight had we not brought in a guy who was given the incredibly difficult task of pouring beer. His only job was to pour beers, because that way the bartenders could work faster. His job in no way affected mine, and he did nothing to make mine easier, but for some reason, the managers thought it would be a good idea to give him a cut of my tips, rather than a chunk of cash independent of my income. This asshole (he's a great guy, I'm just mad at the concept of 'him,') worked from 8-2, didn't wash dishes, didn't restock the entire fucking bar at least 4 times, didn't have to wade through the sweaty drunken masses with 48 bottles of beer in his arms, didn't climb over kegs in a cooler, didn't pick up broken glass, didn't get knocked to the ground by a tall ass drunk guy who couldn't see down past his shoulders, didn't have to fucking move from his little area in front of the taps for 6 hours, and he made $15 dollars less than I did, and in half the time.

FUCK

THAT

SHIT

I cannot type that loud enough, I am fucking livid. So instead of splitting tips with one other guy (who worked his ass off, in fact, for 4 hours longer than I did,) I split tips with two other guys, one of whom had next to zero responsibility, and zero fucking risk. His biggest concern was whether or not he was pouring the right beer. Goddamnit, I came into today expecting to earn some serious cash. When I was handed three twenties and a five after working for 12 hours and then waiting around for an hour and half to get my money, I almost broke down in tears. The management then had this idea that throwing the two real barbacks an extra $10 for the day would make everything peachy. Hell, a bar regular gave me that much to give a piece of St. Patties Day Flair to his friend.

I'm so incredibly upset right now. I'm calling the management in the morning and plan to plead my (and the other real barback's) case. This is ridiculous. I worked my ass off today. I gave up the last free night of my Spring Break, on St Patrick's Day no less, to get shouted at and bossed around by 6 different people, to get spilled on, to *insert all that shit I said before,* to pour my every effort into a job, and not even get paid what I deserve for it.

Update: I called the manager and had a long talk with him. I'm still not happy, but some things make some more sense now. There's a chance something will be changed, if not now, then in the future. I'd love to sit down and have a big ol' argument with the entire staff about this though.

Rain Check

I know you're dying to stay up late tonight to listen to 63hz tonight, but I need one more night of spring break debauchery before I go back to the grind of work and class, so no show tonight. If you're looking for a double dosage of hip-hop and R&B (and lets face it, who isn't) Zozo will be covering my show tonight. 4 hours of block-rocking beats? Who are you to resist?

Or just tune in next week.

Over on that hill

This morning I aced a midterm. A small celebration was in order. I’ve been trying to get out on the ice ever since it was safe enough to do so. I left campus and drove all the way to the very end of Park Point down by the airport (yes, there’s an airport out there.) I walked up the chicken wired-in path through the dunes, which had been completely buried in snow/sand drifts, and was greeted with a breathtaking sight…and I forgot my camera, sorry. The actual beach was no more than 40 feet between the dunes and the ice, but the ice pack extended another 60 or so feet until it stopped at a big pressure ridge of ice chunks. There were huge blocks of glassy-clear ice sparkling in the sun…and I forgot my camera, sorry. I started walking out past the pressure ridge when I heard something.

Nothing.

I heard almost nothing. I was standing in the middle of a huge expanse, yet the sound of the city seemed as if to be coming from a car stereo a block away. I was completely enveloped in peaceful quiet. There was a distinct separation between background rumble (city sounds) and foreground noises like the crunch of the freshly fallen snow under my feet, the sound of the blood in my veins (yes you can hear it, you just don’t know you can.) I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place in nature before when it was that silent. Even at camp during the winter there is always the sound of wind in the trees. But out on the lake with no wind, there is nothing nearby to create sound, and a massive carpet of snow to absorb any stray sounds. This is getting nerdier and less poetic, let me backtrack.

Being in nature has always rejuvenated me. Being away from the city life with its smells and sounds and constant action helps me get a feel for the bigger picture. When you’re in the city, you’re wrapped up in it. You live life in a corridor between home, work, school, some favorite restaurants/bars and some friends’ houses. It’s so refreshing to get away from that self contained existence and to be able to look at it as a whole. As I stood a few hundred feet from shore on the ice over Lake Superior, I could look towards the city of Duluth and see my home, my jobs, my friends, my classes, my roommates, my problems, my joys, my concerns, my fears, my life. It was all within my field of view, way over there on that hill. It wasn’t with me on the ice. I was completely removed from my life for those few moments. It gave me an opportunity to consider all of those parts of my life as a single entity.

I didn’t stay there and ponder it for very long; one can only be removed completely for so long. But what I did glean from those few fleeting moments suspended on a sheet of glass between the Northern Sea and the Northern Sun, was that on the whole, life over there on that hill is pretty damn good. When I measure the positives and negatives, I’m beating the house. I might have some useless classes in a major I’m not too excited about, but they’re almost done and I can do whatever the fuck I want to after I finish. I might have some times when I get lonely and down, but I have some amazing friends that I would hide bodies for, and I’m sure they would do the same for me, no questions asked.

Give it a try. Go out on the ice. Look at the city. Look at (almost) your entire existence as it is right now. You’ll get that feeling in your stomach like you’re falling for a split second once you fully realize the concept.

Or don’t go out on the ice. Go to that place that you’ve got that’s completely safe from the rest of your life. No one else in Duluth (or Minneapolis, or Onalaska, WI) knows about it.

Take a few short moments and remove yourself, you’ll be surprised at what it will do for you.

News Flash

Jennie, the girl with the 9-11pm slot on KUMD tonight called me and asked if I could cover her shift. Hell yes I will.

4 Hours of 63hz tonight people, tell your friends. It's a celebration bitches.


103.3 KUMD

9pm-11pm and 1am-3am TONIGHT.

There is messiah, and his name is snow day

The UMD campus will be closed starting at 2pm today, and continuing on through all of Friday and potentially the weekend. I double checked of course, and KUMD will be on air until the usual end of programming. I'll be hiking, and possibly snowshoeing my ass into the studio tonight, and it's going to be a trip on the hike home. Wish me luck, and you'd better be listening, what the hell else are you going to do? You don't have class tomorrow!

103.3KUMD www.kumd.org

Another blog later today, I promise.

I smell what you're saying

Synesthesia is the concept of getting your sensory systems crossed. Seeing music, tasting color, associating emotions and personalities to letters, number and words are all examples. It’s the kind of thing that sounds like you’d have to be under the influence of some hallucinogen to experience. There are a surprising number of people in this world who are gifted (or cursed) with one or more of these conditions. There is some kind of science behind it, and if you checked the wiki article on synethesia I’m sure you could find some interesting tidbits.

I came across a girl on a message board I frequent who could look at a word and see a colorful abstract representation of that word in her head. Users on the board requested that she draw their usernames, dirty words, etc. I thought it would be a sweet idea to get her to draw my name or initials, or something, and I could get a tattoo done of it, as some of her drawings were absolutely beautiful in an abstract way.

I’ve been looking for a long time for a tattoo that’s isn’t some cliché Japanese kanji that I’m told means “Doves and Peace” but actually translates “Pieces of Doves: Donkey, Donkey, Donkey.” What better back story for a tattoo than “oh, that’s what someone with Synesthesia sees when they look at my name.” Unfortunately, the thread I read turned out to be pretty old, and she’d become pretty bitter towards nerds from the internet asking her to draw shit, so she was pretty cold towards me when I contacted her. I don’t blame her, although, I was pretty freaking polite and understanding when I talked to her. Lousy synesthesiacs.

The idea of synesthesia got me thinking about how I react to music. I know this happens to others as well, as I’ve talked to a few people about it. For many people, smell is the strongest sense tied to memory. This is still true for me, but a very, very close second is music. Not so much hearing as a whole, just music. It seems as though I can remember the first time I heard every song I know. I also associate music with stages of my life. For example, Alanis Morrisette conjures up memories of playing with this one kid on my block. We’d take turns listening to the Jagged Little Pill album on my tape player. No Doubt brings me back to driving to an audio rental company to pick up a truck full of sound gear for a huge concert at my high school. Atmosphere (early Atmosphere) makes me think of sitting in the green room at my high school theatre, playing solitaire. Beck: Guero makes me think of hanging out at Anne and Megan’s apartment at the end of freshman year. Green Day sums up far too much of high school. Jimmy Eat World brings back thoughts of driving home from some concert in the rain in the back of “Betsy,” my friend’s ill fated conversion van with 8 other people. Pink Floyd makes me hallucinate. Phish reminds me of summer camp, as it should. Beastie Boys: Intergalactic reminds me of driving down the camp road on the way to a night off in Virginia or Duluth. Hours of music reminds me of Late Night Kirby, as I’ve been exposed to so much new music there, it’s impossible to quantify. The Combustible Neon Sox remind me of the most fantastic musicians I’ve ever seen. Seriously.
I should organize my music autobiographically, a la High Fidelity. I feel more and more like Rob Gordon (John Cusack) every day.

I’ve got hours of music that are forever associated with girlfriends, which is bittersweet at best. It’s great because it reminds me of them, but terrible because it reminds me of them. There’s a lot of music that I’ve only been able to listen to recently. Tell me I’m not the only one who experiences this.

Music that doesn’t remind me of specific events or eras reminds me of the people who introduced me to that music. To those people who force their music on me, thank you. To those people who are willing to sit still and tolerate some weird new band I’ve discovered, thank you. To those of you who stay up till the sun starts thinking about rising, listening to my ramblings on the airwaves, thank you so much. Chances are that if you’re reading this, you’re one of those people. The music you’ve given me has helped define me.

Keep on listening, I’ve got more for you, and I want more from you.


P.S. Name a band and I’ll tell you what images they conjure up.

At your funeral? Really?

Another great night on the airwaves. The most absolutely ridiculous thing happened. I was about to play "Hallelujah" sung by Rufus Wainwright, and right before I pressed play, the phone rang. I started the track and picked up the phone. The guy on the line was silent for a second or two and then said "Brother, your amazing. You just read my mind. I was calling to request Hallelujah, because I just put it in my will that I want that song played at my funeral." I was speechless. What? How does that happen? How, out of millions of possible songs, do I chose the one song this guy wants to hear, one that has special significance, and isn't even the original version of the song? Of course, it's a little odd to want to hear the song that's going to be playing at your funeral, but hey, I'm not one to judge. Whats more, I asked him if there was anything else he wanted to hear, and he asked for some low key melodic Tom Waits. Of course, as fate would have it, I already had some Tom Waits in the lineup for the night. What the heck, two songs in a night, spot on. I was completely flabbergasted, and Fuller can vouch for that.

1. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Lyon 6.6.06
2. Muse - Feelin' good
3. Cake - when you sleep
4. Radiohead - Idioteque
5. NIN - Only
6. Foo Fighters - Break Out
7. Jet - Cold Hard Bitch
8. Ratatat - Tacobel canon
9. Of Montreal - Faberge falls for shuggie
10. Cloud Cult - Living on the outside of your skin
    
11. Keller Williams - Kidney in a cooler
12. Pseudopod - Shrinks
13. John Frusciante - Carvel
14. Amateur Love - I Need you now
15. No Doubt - Hey you(acoustic)
16. Brazilian Girls - Don't stop
17. Hot Hot Heat - Goodnight goodnight
18. Gnarles Barkley - Smiley faces
19. Grateful Dead - St. Stephen
20. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Bicycle song
21. The Beatles - I've just seen a face
22. Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah
23. Tom Waits - Tom traubert's blues
24. Elliot Smith - Needle in the hay
25. Rufus Wainwright - Across the universe
26. DeVotchKa - How it ends

I'm aware I played Wainwright twice in rapid succession. Deal with it.

Thanks for listening. Questions? Hit me up if you want to hear any of them again. I'd love to hear what you thought. To the cities, bitches.

Tinnitus

Last night we had a concert in the Rafters, featuring “Four Letter Lie” headlining and two more local Minnesota bands opening. This might mean nothing to all of you but the volume on stage for the second band was 116dB (A weighted.) For the less nerdy, that equates to approximately fucking loud. I asked the band if they wanted me to turn it down, but they said to crank it as much as I could, and that they were deaf anyway, so not to worry about it. Some people are dumb. It blows my mind how people subject themselves to these extreme volumes willingly without any sort of protection. The volume at the sound board (Front of House, FOH for those in the know) was a less pummeling but still loud 106dB. That means that it was much louder up near the front where the crowd was. Just about the entire night was spent beyond the threshold of hearing damage, meaning some of those people were exposed to damaging audio for three hours with very little rest. I was wearing ear plugs of course, but a vast majority of the crowd was not. In thirty years when they can’t hear the drive through attendant at Wendy’s they’re finally going to get it.

But Clay, aren’t you the sound guy? Don’t you have control over the volume?
Thank you for asking. Yes and no. Everything on stage is mic’ed, but many things on stage just don’t need it. Snare drums, especially in rock groups, are ridiculously loud, and I usually have them muted in the system. The same goes for guitars, who are the main offenders. These rock bands show up with Marshall Double Stacks (a 6 foot tall amp,) and they’re used to playing grungy clubs with terrible sound systems, so they usually have to compensate with their own amps to make the show sound decent. Our system has more than enough power to shake the plaster down in the Rafters. Unfortunately, turning down a guitar amp means changing the sound of the guitar, and these musicians are used to the sound of their guitars at 120dB (Decibels by the way, sorry.) I always ask kindly for them to turn down as much as possible without changing their sound. Usually artists are willing to comply when I explain that I will be turning them back up again, and it will help me to make them sound better. But last night. Last night was a bunch of high school kids. Nuff said. They wanted it loud, they were going to make it loud. So in order to make it so things like the kick drum, bass, and *gasp* the vocals could be heard over the earsplitting roar emanating forth from these gaping maws of Marshall (or Mesa Boogie, take your pick,) I had to crank my system even further. This only compounds the damage being done to the tiny hairs deep within the ear canals of the unsuspecting hardcore dancers flailing wildly about in the “mosh pit.”

So what have we learned today class? If it hurts your ears, it’s probably hurting your hearing. And hearing is not something you can re grow. Ever. You lose it and it’s gone. Always bring ear protection to concerts, even if it’s a gospel choir, because you may end up with seats right next to the speakers, and as you get closer to the source of a sound, the volume increases exponentially. And turn down your headphones, wow. Headphones are the fastest way to hearing loss short of a tea party on the tarmac (god I hope someone gets that.) iPods have a customizable volume limiter on them now, which is smart. Of course, it was put in as a result of a lawsuit from some fuckwit who had their headphones turned up too loud and went partially deaf. Speaking of iPods, mine came in the mail on Monday. I opened the box to find this little gem of a warning on the protective sticker on the front of the gadget.

Cute.

Thursday night! 1am! 103.3 or kumd.org. I’ve got a bunch of new music you probably haven’t heard. If you’ve heard it, I’ll buy you a pony.

Listen loud, listen responsibly, and don’t forget to spay and neuter you pets.

-63hz

Radio show playlist

Some people requested, so here it is. I'll do this from now on. If you've got any questions, or want any of these tracks, drop me an IM, but don't tell the RIAA.

1. Muse: Take a bow
2. Gnarles Barkley: Transformer
3. Yonder Mountain String Band: Ramblers anthem
4. Hot Hot Heat: Elevator
5. The Strokes: Last night
6. The Flaming Lips: The W.A.N.D.
7. RJD2: Laws of the Gods
8. Her Space Holiday: My girlfriend’s boyfriend
9. Ok Go: here it goes again (UK surf version)
   
10. Mirwais: Never young again
11. Ratatat: Wildcat
12. Ok Go: Get over it
13. Yo La Tengo: Autumn sweater
14. Brother Ali: Forest Whitaker
    
15. Nas: Hip hip is dead
    
16. DJ BC and the Beastles: Whatcha want lady?
    
17. E.L.O.: Don't bring me down
    
18. The first 13 seconds of Freebird
19. G-love and Special Sauce: Honor and harmony
    
20. The White Stripes: Denial twist
    
21. Incubus: Under my umbrella
    
22. The String Cheese Incident: Resume man
    
23. The Chemical Brothers: The sunshine underground
    
24. Cake: Sad songs and waltzes
    
25. Romantica: Oscar Wilde
    
26. Ween: Bananas and blow
    
27. Semisonic: Singing in my sleep

I've got them all, I'd love to share them with you, and I'd love to hear what you've got too. Force your music on me, I beg of you.

peas.

The great camp robbery: a novel

I worked at a summer camp this summer, as I have for the last five summers. There’s an entire series of stories to be written about that world, but I’m going to keep it to one this time, hopefully.

Camp is -to just about everyone who is a part of it- a safe place. It’s a place without hatred, without animosity (you heard me Clifford, stay out,) and overall a place for getting away from the real world. Not so much for our (the staff’s) sake, but for the campers. A surprising number of campers come from low income families in poverty stricken areas of Minnesota. We even had a pair of brothers this summer who were fresh out of New Orleans. Their family had scraped together a hefty sum of money (camp ain’t cheap, as much as we’d like it be) to send these two boys away from the hell that their family was currently going through. We also see a surprisingly large number of children coming from abusive families. We actually have a legal procedure we have to go through if we as counselors are confided to about abuse. We’re bound by law to involve the proper authorities (as if we wouldn’t anyway) immediately. You wouldn’t expect it, but we get at least a couple of cases every summer.

What I’m trying to say here is summer camp is supposed to be a place for kids to get away from the stresses of regular life. Sadly, this isn’t always the case. This summer saw a rash of petty theft at Camp. In the span of three days, a 35mm camera was stolen out of a camper’s bunk (a camera that had been a gift from a now dead grandparent,) an iPod was stolen from that same camper the next day. An iPod was stolen out of a staff member’s CAR. Out of his car! Should he have locked it? Perhaps, but who raises their kids to think that going into someone else’s car is okay? Either way, this thief had some balls - the parking lot is in plain view of the camp office windows.

The same day, my iPod was taken off the desk in my cabin along with the charger. Again, yes, it should have been put away safely, but usually it was, and I was the counselor for the Counselors in Training – the golden children being groomed for staff next summer. I’d been on the Superior Hiking Trail with these guys for 6 days and I would have trusted them with my life, and with my life goes my tiny electronic toys.

The section our cabin was in (along with the other “victims”) was a flutter with conspiracy and investigation. We made an announcement that if the items weren’t returned to a designated public space (a countertop in one of the gathering spaces,) an investigation would begin. We gave them a chance to go back on their mistakes and return the stolen stuff. No such luck.

We got all the campers in the section together (13-17 year old guys) and left the room, asking them to agree upon a course of action. Yeah, we know a learning moment when we see one. The guys actually worked out a plan, they wanted all of their bags searched.

Wait, what? Wow.

We asked them if they were positive, and just about every camper was all for it. There was one group of kids, the too-cool kids, if you will, was literally squirming in their seats, asking odd questions, and generally being all sorts of suspicious. From that point, they were suspects number one, two and three.

The search began. We went cabin by cabin, with everyone sitting out in the space between the cabins. Every camper was present during the searching of his bags, as is policy. No stolen goods were found, and everything went well, except at the very end. I and the CIT’s were watching the rest of the campers while individuals went in to be searched. They let me search my CIT’s bags, as it was just about assured that none of them had taken it, these guys were flawless, as far as I knew. So, 5 of the 6 CITs have been searched, and now it’s time for the last one. I’m joking around with him as I go through his duffel bag. I reach into the bottom of a side pocket on his duffel bag and pull out a pipe. A pipe that reeks of ganje. Of course, the shit hits the fan at this point, as again, I’m bound by law to report this sort of stuff to the director. Long story short, my CIT gets sent home, solely based on policy. The pipe had apparently been in that bag for a couple of years, and the bag had been under the guy’s bed for the same amount of time, he was a long reformed pothead, and camp was his escape from his troubled family. Had I not dug the pipe up, it would have no doubt stayed there until the guy went back home, and probably long after that.

This is starting to get long, so I’m going to wrap it up with all due haste. We never found the stolen stuff, but another iPod went missing from the personal locker of another staff member. The only other person who knew that the iPod was in the locker, much less in existence (it had just been purchase) was the victim’s co-counselor. Shit-fan contact once again. The co-counselor’s stuff was searched, and another iPod charger was found in his possession, one that was clearly marked with a symbol that had been put there by it’s proper owner (one of the other victims.) All of a sudden things get hush hush, and the suspected staff member is sent home, and the administration wont talk about it. I asked if it had anything to do with the stolen stuff, and I was told that they had reason to believe that he had taken at least some of it, but was being fired (and banned from camp property) for another more serious reason that they weren’t allowed to discuss with me.

What? Shit…

So, to summarize for those who skipped ahead, because of this guy who stole this shit, not only are several people out several hundred dollars, but several days of camp were disrupted for a third of the camp, campers lost their faith in their peers, a CIT was sent home from camp, and the sanctity of the camp environment was shattered for many. I’m actually sick of writing about this now, I forgot that there was a lot to this story that needed explaining. If it seems like I left anything critical out, ask me about it.

What’s that? A light at the end of the tunnel? A happy ending? No, it couldn’t be. Yes! I finally got up the balls to buy a new iPod yesterday! This is a big deal for me. Once again, finally, I will never be without music. If something needs a soundtrack, BAM, I’m studying to Yo La Tengo: Autumn Sweater, or driving to Muse: Knights of Cydonia, or walking to school to Dexy’s Midnight Runner:….no…I take that back.

Radio show! Thursday Night! 1am! Listen to it! Exclamation Point!

Stop me if you've heard this

So, creativity. What a weird concept. The basic human urge to make things for no reason other than personal satisfaction and fulfillment. For some reason, I always told people that I was incredibly uncreative and lacked whatever that magic spark was that made a person creative. Of course, foolish was I, who spent too much time thinking about what I should be doing rather than what I want to be doing. I’d think “why aren’t I more artistic or creative like So and So?” But who the hell cares what So and So is doing? (I have reason to believe So and So is a real wanker anyway.) I’ve been repressing the things I want to do for fear that someone, somewhere out there might not think it’s all that great.

All that aside, I can proudly say to you, internet, that I’ve branched the hell out into all sorts of things that I’ve wanted to do in the last few months, and it’s awesome. No other word but that delightfully cliché surfer term can describe it properly. I’ve taken up playing the drums, I’ve got this radio show, I make beer, (if you haven’t already tried it, I have a bottle with your name on it,) and now I’ve got a blog to boot.

I’ve secretly wanted to do something like this (blog) for a long time, but I’ve never really gotten around to it, and it takes some serious self prodding (and some from Anniemosity) to sit down and write my thoughts, as they’re usually zooming about in a chaotic New-York-City-rush-hour fashion through my neural pathways.

On a side note, I’ve had “Loud Pipes” by Ratatat on continuous loop since I started writing this, and it has made the whole writing thing much easier, I’d recommend it. Shoot me an IM (claytron1313) if you’re curious and I’ll send you the track. It’s…well…it’s boss. There I said it.

One more thing before I end this, if you’re not doing anything on Thursday nights at 1am (I know, it’s usually a really busy time for me too) I recommend you tune your radio-box to 103.3FM or go to KUMD.org and check their streaming audio link. I’ve got this radio show wherein I play an eclectic mix of music across a satchel-full of genres. Seriously, I’d love if you’d listen. One of the greatest feelings I’ve discovered is sharing music with others, and having music shared with me. But I’ll get into that in another post I’m sure.

Oh, and 63hz is the frequency at which the human head resonates. When you’re at a hip-hop show, and it feels like the drummer’s got his kick drum pedal right up to your temple? That’s 63hz,

and so am I.

Peace.

A Disclaimer

There will be things here. Just not right this second. Keep hitting refresh (F5) and eventually there will be a blog. Some patience required.