Blog

song - kite strings

produced by andrew phillip tipton. recorded in december, i've been sitting on this for a while.

Last week Yoko held up a print magazine that said KILL YOUR BLOG on the back. "That's what you did," she said. I try not to kill anything, but I am guilty of neglect.

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Right now it seems telling that I try not to observe my emotions when I type in this little textbox. I stick to anecdotes. Here are some anecdotes.

When I was a kid, middle school aged, my brother got in a fight with a friend of ours. Our friend was a wrestler, and proved it using my brother. I can't remember why it was even happening. I hit our friend with my elbow and said "mother fucker." He wasn't hurt, physically or emotionally. I don't remember how the event was resolved.

Probably around the same age I had a fight with a different friend. All I remember from that was the next day at school. We agreed that we would "never fight again." We stayed friends through high school, and I don't remember having another fight. I don't think I've spoken to him since graduating.

This week a close friend of mine and I had a fight. I don't know if "fight" is the right word, but I'm going with it. It was torturous: I sat at my desk for four days with not too much to do. Whenever I lost focus I would start to feel sick, wondering if I had completely destroyed this relationship that we've been developing for years. I wanted to call him last night, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was terrified that I wouldn't have anything to say and things would just get worse. Today I couldn't eat until 5:15pm, and when I got home I called, and we spoke, and it felt so good to just speak. To have words coming and going. To realize our interactions wouldn't be restricted to awkward non confrontational emails. To realize we are not a conflict - we are friends working through a conflict. As our voices flowed more I began to feel so much more like a human.

I am uncomfortable with presenting what I typed here. I feel like I am overstepping a boundary. But I don't think it exists outside of me.

Everyone started their 2005 reviews early - most were published in 2005! There was more to go. I was going to wait till 2006, but now that it is, I feel like I missed the deadline. So I present to you, my best of for 2006.

Best Coffee Shop: Fix Cafe. Betsy and I rode bikes there way back on January 1st, 2006. It was 9 o'clock and they were closed. The employees were trying to lock up, but the gate chain was broken. They wished us a happy new year, ensuring they're place as Best Coffee Shop of 2006.

Best Fortune Teller: Phoebe Kreutz. I witnessed her reading tarot cards for myself and Casey Holford, and the predictions for our years are fascinating. I need to learn to love myself, and it won't be easy.

Best Bread Eating: Casey Holford. When hungry at our recording session yesterday, he requested some bread, and said he would "just eat it." No jam, butter, toasting, or time wasting. He "just ate it" with as of yet unmatched efficiency.

Best Figs: I ate some dried figs.

2006 was a great year. Let's hope that 2007 is just as good.

It's wintertime, which means it's computer time for Dibson.

Every winter for the past couple years I have tended to withdraw into myself a little bit, stay home, and work on a computer. I didn't realize it until this year. Tinkering with software and hardware and remote locations and configuration files.

Spending so much time with screens, it's kind of comforting to know that I do it more and less at different times based on the location of the earth. I may be far removed from nature, but at least I can't escape these natural cycles.

When I walked into my local poll, there was a table for me to go up to and figure out where to actually vote and a police officer on the other side of the room. I knew the police officer was going to come up to me for some reason. I didn't know why, but I could just tell. So I put my back to her and started to talk to the volunteer about which booth I should use.

Naturally, even though it was just a feeling, I get a tap on the shoulder. The police officer! She starts staring at my jacket, which is covered in buttons.

"You don't have any political buttons on there, do you?"

"Uhh... I think they're mostly bands."

"Alright, if there are any political ones, take them off."

Oh, irony! I guess MTV's "Rock the Vote" wasn't enough - now they're using you to get the kids out to the polls.

The day following my escapade I decided I should go to the hospital and make sure I was alright. I could hardly speak, and my body felt really tense. After work, I walked down to Beth-Israel Hospital and talked to the emergency room folks.

Always interesting in the hospitals is the other patients. While waiting for an x-ray to confirm I had no hidden spine/neck injuries, I met a guy who was in a bad place. He had come into Manhattan to go drinking with a friend (this was a Tuesday), but then he had a lot of pain in his leg. So he checked into the hospital, and his friend, who was drunk, abandoned him to return to Long Island.

The guy didn't drink today because he recently became a born again Christian: he had a book about the bible to prove it. About the bible. He also had black tears tattooed near his eyes, which I guess proves that he was born again. He started talking to me about how he needed money to get home on the train, and blah blah blah. I talked to him for a bit, but didn't give him any money. I soon after left the hospital, x-rays ensuring that I was fine.

This Saturday morning, I was walking to the Chinatown bus to go to Philadelphia, when who should I see but my born again Christian friend crying black tears. He walks up to me, "Hey man, I need ten dollars to take the China bus to Philly..." Familiarity drew me to talk to him, and when he noticed me looking towards him he kept talking, "Can you just help me out with a dollar or ..."

"Do you remember me?" I interruputed him.

"Huh?"

"We were in the hospital together. I got knocked off my bike."

"Oh yea, man. I just got out again," he showed me signout papers from a different hospital. "And my girlfriend just kicked me out of my apartment, so I'm trying to take the China bus to philly to make some money with my friends this weekend and..."

I gave him a dollar. Pretty foolish, considering I now had proof that he was always asking for money to go places, but never getting anywhere.

song for download: hunter's moon by old hat

on a full moon night in october, betsy, deenah, preston and i met up at betsy's house for a night of music. this was our output. the only instruments are strings: preston on bass, deenah on mandolin, betsy on zither, myself on autoharp.

Monday I was biking home after work, to record with Matt and Dave for Cheese On Bread. Excited to head over there, I left work and got on my bike to fetch my guitar. Around 6 o'clock I was making good speed up the Williamsburg Bridge (I try to push myself when crossing the bridge to get better at it) when all of a sudden, I saw a figure in front of me. A figure who is striking me in the neck.

I flipped backwards off my bike, landed on my head and back. Still unaware of what was going on, I saw the guy leaning over. "To help me up," I thought. "To take my bike," I corrected myself. Then I grabbed at either his leg or my bike (I can't remember which now) and then let go, because I began to realize what was happening. Since I was being robbed, I figured he wanted my wallet, so I reached for my wallet, then noticed he was riding off into Manhattan.

The deed being done, I figured it's safe to stand up. And then I further realized that I was very out of breath from being hit in the neck and landing on my back. I lay down and catch my breath. Considering I was just clotheslined off my bicycle, I felt pretty good.

Apparently some other people thought I looked pretty good. A guy on a bicycle slowed down, looked down at me, said "Are you alright?" and kept riding on. Some other people thought I probably did not look so good, and they stopped their commute to call the police and talk to me. The man who attacked me was apparently 6' 2", though the people who described it to me could have been exaggerating.

After a couple minutes, some police officers arrived. Once it was clear that there were no serious injuries, the police officer said, "That's it? That's a welcome to Brooklyn."

I try to never let people know that I'm scared. The event I set up to confirm the completion of my new cd brought about uneasy feelings. I don't think I've ever played my songs in a room quite like that one, with so many people I know and respect. And with a bunch of other people I didn't know. And with other musicians playing with me. And other talented musicians/songwriters before and after me.

Despite my fear of letting others know my fear, I had to tell someone, so I told Bernard. Bernard was helpful, he asked if maybe I should have a drink. I thought, "Maybe." Then he told me to envision myself after the drink, and how that would be. It didn't look to be any better, so I didn't have one.

On Wednesday the 21st, I biked to work, and back home. And worked between those of course. But at home I was met by Mister Matt Katz, keyboardist of The Bloodsugars. After tour, I left a bag at his house, and he biked over to return it to me.

After resting for a minute, we biked up to Astoria, which is about 9 miles (and then came back as well). I've never gone that far in one day. My legs still feel the stress from it.

When I got home, I emptied my bag:

• Needle + Thread in a plastic baggie
• US Passport
• Stew Leonard's Comment Forms (x5)
• Unopened set of DR "Sunbeam" Guitar strings, 0.12-0.54
• Hairbrush in a brown paper bag
• Gallatin School Business Card Holder
• 12 "AA" Batteries
• Empty Wallet
• "Scandaliz Vandalistz" T Shirt
• Ziploc bag filled with sugar
• Rockstar kit:
  • Tin Wintergreen Altoids
  • 2 Long stocking socks
  • Flavored Condoms
    • 4 Strawberry
    • 4 Banana
  • 0.60mm Guitar Picks (x4)
• Plastic Bag containing my hair
• Red Pants
• Rag (for cleaning guitar)
• Cassette Tapes
  • "Oncoming Storms of Judgement"
  • Jenny Craig's "Getting Started"
  • "How to Communicate Effectively"
  • "This is it! : Beach Bound"
• Bag Dirty Laundry (smelly)
  • Plaid Green Shirt
  • Blue Linen Shirt
  • 5 Socks
  • Boxer Briefs
• Green/Gray Corduroy Pants
• Blue Button Down Shirt
• Face Towel
• Bunch of Socks
• Bunch of Underwear
• Jack Skellington T Shirt
• Boxers