Monday, October 16, 2006
My Thoughts During Fun-Day '06...
"Man, we've won our first three games, this flip-cup tournament is as good as ours. Probably should have eaten today, or yesterday for that matter. The cheeseburger I ate two days ago probably wasn't enough for the past three days. No matter, keep your eyes on the prize, Bo, eyes on the prize. Phew, I do feel a little light headed suddenly, surely this Dorito will quench my hunger..."
(Fade to black)
(Fade in)
"What the hell is everyone doing standing over me? Fuck, my head hurts. Why is it so dark out? Wasn't it just daylight? Fuck, my head hurts. Hard to see through all the cobwebs in my head, oh, wait...there's the sunlight. Jesus, sensory overload, back up guys and slow down the barade of questions. Well this isn't embarrassing at all. FUCK MY HEAD HURTS. I think I might be a little concussed. Yeah guys, I'm fine...if they get me to a bed I'll owe them my life...."
"Finally, a bed. My head is swimm....oh god, going to be sick."
"Well that sucked, glad I made it to the bathroom. Now what was that we learned in nursing school about not sleeping for too long if there's suspicion of a concussion? I can't think right now, I'll figure it out when I wake up."
(Fade to black)
(Fade in)
"Is that fucking "Country Roads?" Jesus, it's the damn techno version, they must be having their dance party, which means it must be around 3AM. How nice that my head is musically talented enough to throb to the beat. Well at least it will be over soon...fuck, no, don't restart it...DAMMIT! Surely this can't last long."
(30 minutes later)
"...to the place, I belong. West Virginia, mountain mama, take me home country roads...then kill me."
(Fade to black)
(Fade in)
"Fuck my head hurts. Ugh, 9AM. Well I made it through the night. Why is it everytime I drink over here something awful happens? I owe those guys big. Damn I'm hungry. This makes it three days without food in my system...what was it we learned in nursing school about food sustaining life? McDonalds breakfast sounds wonderful. Well, I guess it finally happened, my body finally shut down on me. I should probably take this as a wake-up call. Maybe I should start taking better care of myself. Damn I must have smacked my head hard, still got some cobwebs. So let's piece it together...faint, smack head, get sick, sleep for like 15 or 16 hours...yeah sounds like I'm concussed. Fuck my head hurts."
Sorry to everyone I scared on Saturday, it was my own dumb fault, and thank you for taking care of me since apparently I'm not adult enough to take care of myself.
Much love,
Bo
(Fade to black)
(Fade in)
"What the hell is everyone doing standing over me? Fuck, my head hurts. Why is it so dark out? Wasn't it just daylight? Fuck, my head hurts. Hard to see through all the cobwebs in my head, oh, wait...there's the sunlight. Jesus, sensory overload, back up guys and slow down the barade of questions. Well this isn't embarrassing at all. FUCK MY HEAD HURTS. I think I might be a little concussed. Yeah guys, I'm fine...if they get me to a bed I'll owe them my life...."
"Finally, a bed. My head is swimm....oh god, going to be sick."
"Well that sucked, glad I made it to the bathroom. Now what was that we learned in nursing school about not sleeping for too long if there's suspicion of a concussion? I can't think right now, I'll figure it out when I wake up."
(Fade to black)
(Fade in)
"Is that fucking "Country Roads?" Jesus, it's the damn techno version, they must be having their dance party, which means it must be around 3AM. How nice that my head is musically talented enough to throb to the beat. Well at least it will be over soon...fuck, no, don't restart it...DAMMIT! Surely this can't last long."
(30 minutes later)
"...to the place, I belong. West Virginia, mountain mama, take me home country roads...then kill me."
(Fade to black)
(Fade in)
"Fuck my head hurts. Ugh, 9AM. Well I made it through the night. Why is it everytime I drink over here something awful happens? I owe those guys big. Damn I'm hungry. This makes it three days without food in my system...what was it we learned in nursing school about food sustaining life? McDonalds breakfast sounds wonderful. Well, I guess it finally happened, my body finally shut down on me. I should probably take this as a wake-up call. Maybe I should start taking better care of myself. Damn I must have smacked my head hard, still got some cobwebs. So let's piece it together...faint, smack head, get sick, sleep for like 15 or 16 hours...yeah sounds like I'm concussed. Fuck my head hurts."
Sorry to everyone I scared on Saturday, it was my own dumb fault, and thank you for taking care of me since apparently I'm not adult enough to take care of myself.
Much love,
Bo
Friday, October 13, 2006
Lay It Down...
"You have to meet my friend Eric, he's a tortured soul just like you..." Leash was working at Outback and we had recently come home from UD for the last time. I was looking for something to justify going out to bars during the week and Leash had this friend that played guitar and sang his own songs at bars. At the time I had written 3 or 4 songs, myself, and after meeting Eric only a couple of times he invited me out to play a few songs at one of his gigs (mind you he had never heard me play....ever).
With my stomach in knots I walked into a sparsely filled bar with a handful of friends and listened to Eric croon for about a half hour before he called me up for my first live "performance." I remember thinking, "This is not the guy I want to follow my first time playing in public." Damn he was good. I think I played 3 songs that night on his small personal P.A. in the corner of the bar...right by the bathrooms. I was scared to death, and immediately addicted.
Following that night my life revolved around playing guitar and writing. I was burdened with an overabundance of inspiration during the year that followed and writing music was the perfect outlet for the perpetual heartache that I experienced. I started going to play open mics regularly on Sundays. Mark and I played together for a while and wrote some tunes together. Eric was always there to discuss music, life, the creative process, and whatever girl had broken either of our hearts that week. E would host every now and then, and always amazed me with his poetry set to guitar licks, and would consistently tell me how much further along I was than he was at my age...though we both knew that wasn't' the case.
In November of that year, Eric got a regular gig hosting an open mic at a little bar called "The Pike" on Route 4. Every Thursday night we would sit in front of a bar packed with our friends and other local singer/songwriters and showcase our own personal tunes amidst the smoke and smell of stale beer. For the first four or five months we packed the place and we were kings. There is an indescribable joy that comes from stepping away from the mic, unplugging your guitar, and having complete strangers approach you and verbalize how much they enjoyed your set. It was the golden era of my short-lived, extremely amateur, songwriting career, and honestly one of the happiest eras of my life...though it was riddled with personal conflict and pain. Girls came and went during the year that Eric had that gig, and we would always comfort each other with the same phrase, "This is where the good songs come from," and damn if it wasn't true.
After a while, the gig lost it's flavor. The bar was pretty far away and our crowd diminished. The regular players began coming more infrequently, and there were times were E and I would have to fill the entire night all by our lonesome. After we lost that gig, we moved to a cigar bar in Montgomery called "Burning Desires." I was back in school by then, but still made it out every Wednesday. We were able to revitalize the crowd and got some new players to come out for a while, but it was never the same. Eric began playing with a band again, I began studying for my state boards, and after a while we ended the "Burning Desires" experiment.
In a vain attempt to hold on to the personal joy that I felt on stage, I played at an open mic at "Millions" regularly for a couple of months. I got some friends from school to come out most of the time, and my other friends made it down as often as they could. Eric would make it out every once in a while, but he was playing pretty often with his band and they were getting pretty damn good. The intimate setting that we had at "The Pike" and to an extent at "Burning Desires" was replaced by anonymous faces being shuffled on and off stage...and the quality was subpar. I soon came to the realization that people in "The Square" were not interested in original music, and would rather listen to second-rate covers of Van Morrison and Lifehouse...it was over....for me, anyway.
When I started at the hospital a year ago, I quit playing all together. Just have no time. Eric, on the other hand, continued with his band and has flourished. We grew apart (which was mostly my fault), but I still find myself putting his demo in my CD player every now and then with a rush of nostalgia. I know some of you can relate, and though I've stopped playing...Eric's just getting warmed up...
E's band, aptly named the "Eric Leyton Band," is having their CD release party at Allyn's Cafe on October 20th. I encourage any of you who enjoy original local music to come out and support them. I promise they will not disappoint. If you want to hear a few of the songs from the CD, click the title and it will take you to Eric's myspace page. The kid's come a long way from that small PA in the corner by the bathroom. Enjoy.
Much Love,
Bo
With my stomach in knots I walked into a sparsely filled bar with a handful of friends and listened to Eric croon for about a half hour before he called me up for my first live "performance." I remember thinking, "This is not the guy I want to follow my first time playing in public." Damn he was good. I think I played 3 songs that night on his small personal P.A. in the corner of the bar...right by the bathrooms. I was scared to death, and immediately addicted.
Following that night my life revolved around playing guitar and writing. I was burdened with an overabundance of inspiration during the year that followed and writing music was the perfect outlet for the perpetual heartache that I experienced. I started going to play open mics regularly on Sundays. Mark and I played together for a while and wrote some tunes together. Eric was always there to discuss music, life, the creative process, and whatever girl had broken either of our hearts that week. E would host every now and then, and always amazed me with his poetry set to guitar licks, and would consistently tell me how much further along I was than he was at my age...though we both knew that wasn't' the case.
In November of that year, Eric got a regular gig hosting an open mic at a little bar called "The Pike" on Route 4. Every Thursday night we would sit in front of a bar packed with our friends and other local singer/songwriters and showcase our own personal tunes amidst the smoke and smell of stale beer. For the first four or five months we packed the place and we were kings. There is an indescribable joy that comes from stepping away from the mic, unplugging your guitar, and having complete strangers approach you and verbalize how much they enjoyed your set. It was the golden era of my short-lived, extremely amateur, songwriting career, and honestly one of the happiest eras of my life...though it was riddled with personal conflict and pain. Girls came and went during the year that Eric had that gig, and we would always comfort each other with the same phrase, "This is where the good songs come from," and damn if it wasn't true.
After a while, the gig lost it's flavor. The bar was pretty far away and our crowd diminished. The regular players began coming more infrequently, and there were times were E and I would have to fill the entire night all by our lonesome. After we lost that gig, we moved to a cigar bar in Montgomery called "Burning Desires." I was back in school by then, but still made it out every Wednesday. We were able to revitalize the crowd and got some new players to come out for a while, but it was never the same. Eric began playing with a band again, I began studying for my state boards, and after a while we ended the "Burning Desires" experiment.
In a vain attempt to hold on to the personal joy that I felt on stage, I played at an open mic at "Millions" regularly for a couple of months. I got some friends from school to come out most of the time, and my other friends made it down as often as they could. Eric would make it out every once in a while, but he was playing pretty often with his band and they were getting pretty damn good. The intimate setting that we had at "The Pike" and to an extent at "Burning Desires" was replaced by anonymous faces being shuffled on and off stage...and the quality was subpar. I soon came to the realization that people in "The Square" were not interested in original music, and would rather listen to second-rate covers of Van Morrison and Lifehouse...it was over....for me, anyway.
When I started at the hospital a year ago, I quit playing all together. Just have no time. Eric, on the other hand, continued with his band and has flourished. We grew apart (which was mostly my fault), but I still find myself putting his demo in my CD player every now and then with a rush of nostalgia. I know some of you can relate, and though I've stopped playing...Eric's just getting warmed up...
E's band, aptly named the "Eric Leyton Band," is having their CD release party at Allyn's Cafe on October 20th. I encourage any of you who enjoy original local music to come out and support them. I promise they will not disappoint. If you want to hear a few of the songs from the CD, click the title and it will take you to Eric's myspace page. The kid's come a long way from that small PA in the corner by the bathroom. Enjoy.
Much Love,
Bo
Saturday, October 07, 2006
VW...
Soon and very soon I will be buying a Volkswagen, if only for the promotion...
http://v-dubsrock.com/
Much love,
Bo
http://v-dubsrock.com/
Much love,
Bo
