Last Wednesday, I played a gig at the Central tavern in Pioneer square. Strangely enough, this venue is located directly beneath my old place of employ in Seattle. The company is still there. Perhaps they heard my set. The gig itself went as smoothly as any of our gigs have ever gone. There was none of the tension-fueled snapping at each other that has typically accompanied show prep. We calmly set up our gear and played a set nearly free of technical glitches (the DI box the house provided me turned out to actually function as an empty box with holes in it and needed to be replaced). Afterwards, Kris and I moved among the patrons, in the freeform contact-making activity known as "shmoozing".

Turnout at the show was around 45 people, judging by our cut of the take for the evening. While hanging out at the bar, I spotted the woman responsible for booking us at the Central, and since I learned earlier that she also handled gigs at the Catwalk, I asked her if she'd ever book us there. "Well, the Catwalk holds a thousand people," she replied, almost apologetically, "even with 200 people it looks... barren." In a nice way, she was telling me that if she booked us there, everyone involved would look kind of dumb. "Ah. Ok. Give me a few months, then." I said. A thousand! We have to increase our draw to a thousand people. The only way I can think of to do that is to make incredibly infectious tunes and simultaneously immerse my/ourself/ves in the local music scene. Towards this end, I'm being kind of a social bugger. I'm offering help to anyone who will sit still long enough to hear me. Today, I already went into a local recording studio to help the guy set up Cubase, and he said it would be cool if I came back from time to time to shoulder surf his mixing techniques and/or to help out if possible. The more I think about it, the more it seems this is the right tack. My dad and Mary were integral to their music scene, and they did it by jumping in headfirst and getting involved. I will learn from them.

Sooo if I'm out there getting my fingers into the production scene, it seems as if Kris should do the same for the booking folks. Perhaps he could try and assemble groups of bands for weekday shows for some other, more busy bookers. I bet they'd appreciate the help. Brian, too, could do this with the promoters. Ha, we will draw a thousand.

During the last band's set, a guest singer they had on stage got a little excited and kicked a monitor into the table our equipment was under. There was a full pitcher of water on top of the table. Fortunately, only a ratty leather bag we found somewhere and were using to carry cables got very wet.

I didn't sleep the night following the gig, because I had to wake up early and go to Lynnwood/Edmonds to get my wheels fixed! And new tires! So there I was at 830 am driving up to Lynnwood, anticipating having to stay there until 5 pm.

What is there to do in Lynnwood for 8 hours? To find out, I walked around in the bright sunshine for an hour or two, scoping out the local attractions. In the particular area I was in, these are: K-Mart BIG, Used car lots, Factory Direct Tire Sales (seen it already), more car stuff, and a single Starbucks evil coffee.

<Zakk> dumb and ass, together in one convenient package

Do you know how long you can stay at Starbucks? I know how long I can stay at Starbucks. I had my palmV and its wireless modem with me, so I got some work done. I actually diagnosed and dispatched techs for a critical problem which I noticed via pager. I was making a lot of sudden beep noises. At around 11:30 am I realized that I would eventually have to drive back down to Seattle, and I was getting pretty wacky from fatigue. I rented a crappy hotel room nearby and slept until 5. There you have it: the complete guide to fun in Lynnwood.

Later, as I was headed towards my credit union to check on the status of my car title work, I was pulled over my a motorcycle cop, who issued me an expensive ticket for driving with expired tags. Unfortunately, I can't get new tags until the title work is done. It is all in the hands of the various banks now. As I was pulling out of the parking lot to resume my trip to the CU, another police vehicle swung around the corner and took up position behind me. Could I really get cited for the same thing an unlimited number of times? But no, perhaps they heard something over the radio that dissuaded them. It is now a week later, and my title work is still not done. Pretty much the only legal thing to do is leave the car in the garage. That's no fun, and unproductive as well.

Ew, these peanuts suck! Honey roasted bullshit is more like it! -- Brian

Now... I forget what I was doing. Oh yeah. Made an appointment to get custom musician earplugs (the type which don't produce significant frequency imbalance, or that "muffled" sound.) and. Uh. pay bills. wild ride tonight.