Home.

It's great to be off the road and able to contemplate the remainder of the summer. Climbing back into some sort of reasonable fitness begins tomorrow just over the border in New Mexico, followed by movie night in my backyard, followed by a 9 year anniversary (whoa) back over the border at Ojo Caliente. Tracy mentioned our anniversaries feel more like the square root of the actual year. Once I was reminded of how one calculates such things, I agreed.

So I am in the composing phase of the previously mentioned CD project. I'm starting with cells and progressions and once I like a few, I'll record them. Speaking of, I think I deserve an endorsement contract from these guys. I've sold enough to believe I've missed my calling and, well, here I go again... this thing is practically idiot-proof and has great quality.

Place your orders now for our CD... in a year or two, or three, I'll mail it to you.

Durango- contacts in the oddest places... and bike races

We've been in and around Durango, CO for a few days and playing gigs on only the rarest of occasions. So last night, I was hanging out in the beer garden at the local VFW, conveniently situated next to the city park where our concert was (and where I wrecked my car a couple of years back....err) where I met a great couple. The first was the stage manager for the Music in the Mountains Festival. His wife works at Ft. Lewis College as a web designer/publicist/etc in the music department and is involved in the festival as well. They're putting me in touch with the artistic director- a connection I wouldn't have made, were the daughter of the VFW post commander not hanging out in the beer garden with her husband... thanks!

Today was another day off from our tour so I meandered downtown to find lunch and a place to read. Things worked out perfectly, for I walked into Carver's Brewing Co. and was able to sit at the bar, eat, watch stage six of a different type of tour- the Tour de France, and read my book during the lengthy commercial breaks. First of all, the book I'm reading is great- Faces of Salsa: A Spoken History of the Music, by Leonardo Padura Fuentes, kindly translated by Stephen J. Clark. The book has short interviews with the most important names in the salsa movement of the middle 20th century through the book's publication date. The history of "salsa" music is just as misconstrued as jazz or any other musical phenomenon. Texts attempting to provide a generic history of music offer an incomplete picture. First person accounts relating to the time and place seem to provide more insight, and it's up to the reader to piece the information together and develop his or her own view of the history (in my humble opinion).

So I'm sitting in a bar in a town known for cycling, listening to commentary by Bob Roll, a guy the bartender knows personally, and watching the race with other people who actually understand the who,what, where, and why of bike racing. The experience brought back a flood of memories from my racing days- mostly the emotions I no longer access now that I've stopped competitive racing. As I sat there watching the race in my new character of anti-social tour person, always walking around alone and enjoying the time off, I was able to reflect on racing and what experiences were important to me. The following thoughts came to mind:

-Experiencing the feeling of being on the front of the race, feeling the energy of 99 other racers on your wheel, while leading through the wind provides an odd sort of adrenaline rush.
-The feeling of being near the back, coming out of turns, focusing on staying on the wheel in front of you without an ounce of energy spent on what's happening at the front... just trying to prevent a gap between you and the next wheel without blowing up.
-Balancing boredom with steady nerves and intensity.
-Attempting to read the feedback your body is giving (feed me, give me water, spin higher rpms, shift gears, loosen the shoes, take off the arm warmers, stop trying to kill me)
-Trying to stay patient when someone jumps off the front and you are forced to decide whether to follow the move, let someone else chase, or both.
-Always wondering if the move heading up the road is decisive or a waste of energy.
-Setting out for glory on your own before the final climb.
-Making ad hoc teammates in breaks, chase groups, or the lantern rouge (the dropped members of the field).
-Wondering if your teammates will ever repay you for the work you've done for them in a race.
-Hoping you grab your bottle in the feed zone, and if not, can you steal one at the end of the feed.
-Realizing the odds are 1 in 100 to win the race- there's always one winner and a lot of losers but always trying to keep that feeling alive that today can be your day.
-Trying to let go of the impending feeling of demise while on a 45+ mph descent in a pack of nervous riders.
-Avoiding fist fights while riding all out in the peloton when the bumping begins, especially along the barriers during crits.
-Always wondering if your legs/heart/lungs/brain can hold out for the finish line.
-Trying to select the best wheel to sit on for as long as possible.
-At the start of a race, wondering why everyone doesn't want to race bikes, only to question your own sanity for deciding to get into racing in the first place once the suffering begins.

I suppose these emotions may serve as metaphors for life, but during races, they become immediate- very present and very real. As a guy that pretty much just rides a fixed-gear around town instead of expensive road bikes with super light wheels and components (although, they are still in the garage), these emotions are rare, and do not translate well to a music career... or my music career. I've competed in music- concerto competitions, auditions, etc, but to me, the feelings are different, and I'm glad they are.

Back to the book...

J-

Santa Fe- good food, relaxation, music, and a documentary you cannot miss

Yes, this is a great town. Take some time in your life and visit Santa Fe. Enjoy the cuisine, the music, the art, the architecture, and the people. I was sitting at a restaurant with a friend from Plano, TX who was absolutely enjoying the people watching- much more interesting than the Dallas suburbs!

I spent the day off from playing with the band by reading geeky drum magazines and practicing my Mediterrasian Tambourine. Last time I was here in the land of green chile, adobes, and hemp clothing, I met up with Glen Velez to play frame drums and the Mediterrasian Tambourine.

As I footed it to the plaza from my hotel to choose a dining experience for lunch, I found myself walking at a mellower pace than usual, singing melodies in my head inspired by the fresh air, blue sky, and cool architectural designs in everything- doorways, cement work, fencing, etc, etc. Slowing down once in a while can only be healthy. Playing hybrid tambourines is also good for the soul... in case you were wondering. Only Santa Fe can remind me of these things.

This evening, Randy, our guitarist, flew in from Dallas. We grabbed dinner and went down to WilLe's Blues Club to catch the great local band, Nosotros. They rocked and had the dance floor packed. Maybe Tracy can eventually get me salsa dancing...

It's odd hanging out with great musicians like Randy Ro, Lane McCray (mentioned in a previous post), and others while watching a great band. It makes you think about who may be in your audience on any given night. I remember playing a gig in Palm Springs years ago and a gentleman came up afterwards and told me stories about playing in Sinatra's band... whoa.

As I attempt to mellow out for the night, I am listening to a set list for an upcoming gig I have with Eric Shiveley. He's a wonderful songwriter, musician, producer, videographer, writer, documentarian, and chihuahua enthusiast that I have the pleasure of knowing. We met a couple of years ago when he hired me to play drums for a video shoot he was doing for his award-winning documentary, Everyone But You. This movie rocks- find it, watch it, love it. He's an amazing talent and quite hysterical. Self depricating? Yes. A true artist? Yes. Check out some of his music, while you're at it.

Dallas to Clovis to Santa Fe and a New Marimba

Greetings,

As I sit in my hotel room in Santa Fe, enjoying the weather and feeling mellow from the margarita imbibed upon arrival, I am happy to report we landed the new marimba mentioned in previous posts. This instrument will be a wonderful addition to our instrument inventory and great for the studio. I am pleased... and relieved.

As for the tour, the trip has been relatively uneventful. We traveled west from the Metroplex of Dallas/Fort Worth and into the great cattle feed lot/oil country of West Texas. To my surprise, countless zero-emission, non-fossil fuel burning windmills pepper the landscape between Lubbock, Texas, and Clovis, New Mexico. On our route, we stopped in the appropriately named town of Mule Shoe, the birth town of one of our singers. Taking photos with the town mule statue was mandatory.

After a particularly rough sound check, we played a show in Clovis, turned in, and departed for Albuquerque this morning. According to the Tom Tom, we were 1/3 of a mile from our next gig when a very sweet older woman tried drinking her tea while driving. The end result was a collision- her car drilling our rental van. After a long wait for Albuquerque's finest to arrive and make a report, we coordinated a ride for those on the gig, and then August, Shonda and I continued on to Santa Fe, checked into our respective rooms, and immediately went to The Cowgirl for some Southwestern cuisine and margaritas... ah... Santa Fe.... I think I have to work tomorrow, but at this moment, nothing really matters.