MUSIC DAY

What goes up must come down, right?

Friday night saw me stressed and maxed to my limit. Paulie has been riding me like a Palomino trying to get the last-minute details done regarding the press packet we are designing for the animation; I received calls from two bands that I am in, their respective hiatuses ending around the same time; everyone has been adjusting to new schedules and routines, myself included; and I started to feel like I should pull one of my patented Disappearing Acts, where I go off by myself and don't make any contact for a week or so.

Just when I was sure I was going crazy, I stopped and realized something: I'm already crazy.

Not to trivialize the plight of those with genuine mental illnesses, but I've always known that I'm a bit off my rocker. Five planets in Aquarius attest to this. I can function fine in society, but my neuroses and deep-seated narcissism make it really difficult to do so with ease. I was raised by a manic-depressive father and my mother aka "the emotional whirlwind". I was addicted to phenobarbitol by age five.

I'm not using these as excuses. I'm just stating facts.

But that's why I am only suited to be an artist-- creating something is a pacifier for me, the only way to subdue me without having to drug me, feed me, or fuck me.

I needed to do something crazy, but not too crazy. I don't want to be locked up in an asylum. I just needed to break out of my rut.

And I did.

Saturday was my Music Day, a day where I got up knowing where I had to go and what I had to do, and it was all creative for the most part. I walked out of the house with my bass in my hand (I still haven't purchased a proper carrying case) listening to "Rebel Rebel" in the MP3 player. I made it to Elle's place around 1pm, ready to drop basslines.

Elle and I worked for a solid hour, interrupted only by her neighbor asking her if she wanted to go to a movie later on. Then, Katie showed up, ready to get down. She and Elle had been up all night, recording song ideas in Pro Tools and drinking a lot of coffee.

I threw down some vintage fuzz-guitar on one punkish tune that Katie had written, and I also slung my bass on a few tracks. I am the type of player who does what you tell me, but sneaks in the real good shit when you're not looking. The girls were wowed by my contributions, and I was bashfully appreciative.

Katie was still amped from the night before, and her energy was infectious. Up until that point, however, I still didn't know her very well, and this was the first time I'd seen any of them in some weeks. But Saturday was different, because it was also the day that I agreed to help Katie move stuff out of her storage space and into her new apartment.

Peter, Paulie's brother, aided me with his truck as we made the trip over to the storage. It took us about an hour to load and unload the goods. Then, Peter busted out with some sushi as we sat around and talked about music.

Katie is like a hyperactive child, giddy from inspiration and never without a thing to say or an idea to flesh out. She is a million laughs, and also demonstrates a streak of untouchable genius. All I could do or say was not enough against her onslaught of words and opinions, in-jokes and flights of fancy, out-loud ruminations and too-much-info ravings...

She was very grateful for our help, but then I had to go to a rehearsal with ICON, one of the bands I was playing in last year. This was our first rehearsal for 2005, and I was curious to see what was going to happen.

"See if you can stop by Elle's again after practice," Katie said, jazzed at the results of our collaborations earlier.

"Well, I have to see Eve tonight," I said, "but if it ends early then, sure, I'll call you two."

Eve and I had plans Friday night, but she was "too tired" to deal with me. We re-scheduled for Saturday, but things are still weird between us. She has been stressed out more than usual, and I was going temporarily nuts for a spell. But I also sense her pushing me away, and it makes me mad. I am mad because that's all she does with everyone in her life-- she pushes them away when she's sure she doesn't need anything from them. I offer her my help and my time, but now she doesn't want it, when she needs it most.

Stupid pride. I should know, I'm a pretty proud person myself.

I had an explosive session with ICON. We tried working on the old set, but it wasn't happening. We tried new songs, though, and they were fucking incredible. The guitars were as hard as sliced steel, the drums were the cascade of garbage cans raining down from a rooftop in perfect rhythm, and my bass was the grunts and groans of a balrog emerging from the depth of sub-Hell...

I called Eve, and she said she would meet me at my place. Buddha, the drummer for ICON, had to leave in a hurry and dropped me off at my apartment, just in time to receive Eve.

Eve first and foremost handed me the last bits of retouching that she had to do. There was a bit of finality to it, as if this was the last thing she was ever going to do for the project.

We drank some brews, smoked some pot and watched The Simpsons. Then, she told me that Dick, her ex, had come to her door the night before. She had to fend him off by threatening him with a crowbar. He went away, but not before saying that he had his friends following her, in addition to himself.

I didn't know what to say. At this point, it's obvious to me that if she continues to pussy-foot around, she will never get rid of him. I wonder if she even wants to get rid of him. There's nothing I can do, and she hasn't asked me to help, and if I offer my help she pushes me away...

I reassured her that she had a place to stay if things went down badly, but how will that solve anything? All I know is, something would've definitely happened if she and I had kept our plans for Friday, because I would've been there to deal with Dick. But there's a part of me that wonders if she called off our plans after she dealt with him...

It doesn't matter-- I can see that she is pushing me away, because I've known her for over 13 years. But, unlike those days of old (when we were both kids) I have grown up some, and I managed to live without her, even as she haunted me out of every corner of my eye...

Maybe this is the end of our chapter. It would be nice to leave it on a high note. And even though things are weird between us, at least we are on fairly good terms.

So, if she wants it the way it was before, then who am I to protest?

If this is how she wants it, then it was nice while it lasted. Oh well. It's not like we were dating or anything like that.

And, you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

We were silent, as we watched TV, only laughing occasionally. Then, inexplicably, she got up and said she had to go. Is she still punishing me for not giving her credit on a cartoon that she has only contributed to in small ways?

If I were attached to her, then her departure would've devastated me. But life is hard, and it's tough, and it has no pity. If you're not prepared to deal with the unfair aspects, then you shouldn't even leave the house.

So, while her leaving was a definite rejection, I still had options open to me. I called Katie and Elle, and they picked me up, and we worked on music until 2am.

And I made friends with Katie that Saturday evening. She may be a bit of a dynamo but she is also a new face, a fresh perspective, a different person than the people I usually meet. I'm still out of her league, I think, but she made me smile and laugh more times than I care to admit.

I think she has a better idea of who I am and what I am all about. She noted my annoying habit of referencing everything with useless trivia: "Oh, that sounds like Blondie circa Parallel Lines" or "That song has got The Velvet Underground written all over it" or "Ever heard of Papas Fritas? This reminds me of that..."

She also noted that I am 31, not in my mid-twenties. I look young, what can I say? I still get carded for alcohol in liquor stores.

She forced me to define what it is that I bring to the band. I was at a loss for words, for the first time. I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn't get it out. She playfully mocked me for not being forthcoming. I laughed-- if she only knew how much of a chatterbox I could be...

I finally said, "OK, you can put on the website that I have an elastic, intuitive style..."

"Cool," Katie said. "I put down that your 'bass interpretations' were part of our sound... is that corny or what?" She laughed at herself and her refusal to be embarassed by anyhing.

Then, she drove me home. We listened to the songs in her car. We bonded. She even asked me about my own demos, which we hadn't had any time to check out. But I was somewhat touched-- she actually asked me about my own music. Elle has never done that; Holly certainly never did, and only after I made her listen to a CD of mine did she ever offer any feedback; and even though I've shown Eve how to play the bass, she has never asked me about my music either.

That means something to me. For even though I am a man, I do possess feelings... very sensitive feelings. And one of the reasons why I refrain from showing emotions is that I am surrounded by selfish people who all want a piece of me because of my quiet reticence, my refusal to hog the spotlight, my insistence on being fair.

And when I don't measure up to what they want from me, they are quick to write me off.

I went home and slept, waking the next day to take it easy. I called Eve, and she said she was going to spend Sunday with her family. Fine. I called Bro Man, and showed him how to use his sampler more effectively. He and I worked on music and watched Chapelle's Show all day.

I'm still trying to make him a dope MC. Progress has been slow but steady. I'm loving every minute of it.

Katie reminded me that sometimes it feels good to work on music for free. It also helps that Katie (and Paulie, who talked to Elle about her musical goals) pushed Elle into another direction, one that is a little harder, edgier, with more attitude and with a darkness that I can really dig.

And, of course, I am crazy, for doing what I do, for doing it all for free, for letting people bug me about credit this and deadline that...

That never goes away. But what does eventually disappear is the insecurity of living this life, with all of its uncertainty, all of its unpredictability, all of its insanity...

When I'm playing bass and two beautiful girls are smiling and joyful because I'm hitting all of the right notes, then who needs to be validated with birthday gifts and kisses?

Hell, if I'd been jamming all weekend around the time of my birthday, I wouldn't have been depressed at all.

And now, to add to my rejuvenation, I find that I have $100 extra in my paycheck, thanks to the extra long pay schedule for this month.

I'm ready to take on the world, and anyone who wants to bring me down is just going to have to try harder... and even then, they'll have to give up after a while, because I'm not stopping.

Not for a minute.