A general scenario:
1. Tell a multi-million dollar business prospect who wants to spend quality time getting to know your product that you available a specific two days in the near future.
2. Contact that business prospect when you don’t hear from them, asking why you have not heard from them, ask what’s going on for those two days.
3. Prospect returns contact and affirms desire to commit to meeting; asks for phone call the next day.
4. You do not call prospect.
5. Prospect sends multiple detailed messages in various formats to once again affirm strong desire for meeting.
6. You do not return any of those messages.
7. Date for meeting comes and goes, you do not return contact.
Would any of you treat a stranger, a business contact, this way? I highly doubt it. If you did, it either means that you are (A) rude and disrespectful in general, (B) did not really want their business anyway, or (C) take their interest utterly for granted.
Whichever it is, you have just lost a business contact that may have either fizzled out or may have had untold potential for gain. But you’ll never know.
Sure, things come up, shit happens, but if it was a relationship you value, you would contact your prospect unless completely physically incapacitated.
Now... imagine you have done this not ONCE, but a dozen times over the last many weeks. Not showing up for meetings, showing up late for meetings, and not observing the quid pro quo of equity during meetings which is essential to forming new partnerships.
Would you still have a business prospect?
No. When you make it impossible for someone to learn the ins and outs of your product, they lose interest in the product. They begin to suspect it is perhaps defective in some way, if you don’t have the confidence to sell it and be open about it.
Stay with me here…
So WHY would you do this to a person you are in a personal relationship with and expect that they will be okay with it? Apply the above scenario to a dating relationship and think about it.
(A) Rude and disrespectful in general?
(B) Does not really want my regard and affection (and potentially my love and commitment) anyway?
(C) Takes my interest utterly for granted?
I have truthfully lost interest in the answer. I wonder if I’ll even go shopping for a new product. I question whether I really need one. No one product can satisfy every need, but at minimum it should reliably satisfy the basic need for which it was acquired. Has one even been manufactured that does that? They don’t exactly come with labels.
The moral of this story is: Show someone that you are a rug and they WILL walk on you. Do you really want to still be lying there when the day comes that they need to wipe the dirt and shit off their shoes?
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Clutter is ending in fluttering frenzy.
I am on a deep cleaning frenzy. I woke up at 4AM and could not go back to sleep. Rather than lay in bed wasting time, I chose to get up and be productive.
I am, I will admit, a generally lazy and messy person, if left to my own tendencies. My mother can vouch for this; as a child and a teenager, my room always looked like a tornado had hit it. I just always had better and more important things to do than the simple task of picking up after myself.
Alas, this has persisted into adulthood, and I wage constant war against disorder. This is quite strange, considering that if my surroundings are messy, my life is messy, and I cannot effectively function. If they are clean and orderly, so is my life. Clutter in my environment equates to a cluttered mind that is utterly squelched. Setting things right clears room for creativity and motivated action.
When I was in Sweden, one thing I noticed was how people over there don’t have a mountain of STUFF. They keep only what they need, waste nothing, and do not hesitate to discard what they do not use. This results in an almost blank palette upon which they paint the more important aspects of their lives, loves, and leisures. This is an aesthetic I would very much like to emulate.
I am not a pathological hoarder, but I do tend to keep stuff that I don’t use. Every few years, I will grudgingly throw out, donate, or sell items I don’t want. I have despite this still managed to accumulate a house and garage full of stuff that I now see as JUNK. Well, this ends now. I am going to go through every single item in my possession and if I have not used it in a year, I am getting rid if it. Except my books and music… but even the bulk of that collection is getting moved to my garage, or boxed up.
Bathroom first. Tiny little room, really. And yet, I managed to somehow fill a huge trash bag full of old make-up, expired over-the-counter meds, grooming items that I no longer use, and general crap. Frickin’ wow. I still seem to be keeping an awful lot of things… maybe this is only step one, and in a few weeks I will do this again, and get rid of even more stuff. Once the clearing was done, I cleaned it from top to bottom, a good deep clean that I should do every couple of months (I live alone), but have only done maybe once a year since moving in. It is positively gleaming now!! Wow this feels really good. It took – are you ready for this – three hours. For one teeny little room. This project could take days, and that’s only the house. The garage is much worse.
I have to leave for work in a bit… I am seeing my boyfriend tonight, but will try to get one more room done before he arrives: the bedroom. ;-)
I am, I will admit, a generally lazy and messy person, if left to my own tendencies. My mother can vouch for this; as a child and a teenager, my room always looked like a tornado had hit it. I just always had better and more important things to do than the simple task of picking up after myself.
Alas, this has persisted into adulthood, and I wage constant war against disorder. This is quite strange, considering that if my surroundings are messy, my life is messy, and I cannot effectively function. If they are clean and orderly, so is my life. Clutter in my environment equates to a cluttered mind that is utterly squelched. Setting things right clears room for creativity and motivated action.
When I was in Sweden, one thing I noticed was how people over there don’t have a mountain of STUFF. They keep only what they need, waste nothing, and do not hesitate to discard what they do not use. This results in an almost blank palette upon which they paint the more important aspects of their lives, loves, and leisures. This is an aesthetic I would very much like to emulate.
I am not a pathological hoarder, but I do tend to keep stuff that I don’t use. Every few years, I will grudgingly throw out, donate, or sell items I don’t want. I have despite this still managed to accumulate a house and garage full of stuff that I now see as JUNK. Well, this ends now. I am going to go through every single item in my possession and if I have not used it in a year, I am getting rid if it. Except my books and music… but even the bulk of that collection is getting moved to my garage, or boxed up.
Bathroom first. Tiny little room, really. And yet, I managed to somehow fill a huge trash bag full of old make-up, expired over-the-counter meds, grooming items that I no longer use, and general crap. Frickin’ wow. I still seem to be keeping an awful lot of things… maybe this is only step one, and in a few weeks I will do this again, and get rid of even more stuff. Once the clearing was done, I cleaned it from top to bottom, a good deep clean that I should do every couple of months (I live alone), but have only done maybe once a year since moving in. It is positively gleaming now!! Wow this feels really good. It took – are you ready for this – three hours. For one teeny little room. This project could take days, and that’s only the house. The garage is much worse.
I have to leave for work in a bit… I am seeing my boyfriend tonight, but will try to get one more room done before he arrives: the bedroom. ;-)
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sweden 2010, Day 21 - Homeward bound
I actually woke up about 10 minutes ahead of the alarm at my hotel in Stockholm. I got up, checked emails, took a shower, and got packed. Hammerdal already feels half a world away, which makes me very sad. I wish I could go there more often to be with my band and their families.
My friend Klas picked me up along with one of his coworkers, and they delivered me to the airport. He helped me get checked in, and we shared a cup of coffee and some breakfast at the terminal. Then it was time for me to head in to the gate.
There had been a problem when I originally booked this flight. I used Orbitz, and for some reason, I was not permitted to choose my seat during that process; in fact, I was assigned a seat when I checked in online that made my blood run cold. 22E.
Folks, I get severe motion sickness on planes. I have tried every med known to man, and nothing abates it. Dramamine works on boats, but not on planes. I have taken to just knocking myself out with Valium when I fly. However this is not always an option, due to my determination not to suffer jetlag. The only and I mean ONLY thing that stops the motion sickness is being able to lean my head against the side of the plane, in a window seat. The vibration and hum seem to calm my inner ears to the point where flying is tolerable, even pleasant. I don’t have to keep my head there constantly, but as soon as the nausea starts, I need to be able to use this trick to force it into retreat.
The flight was oversold. I told my story to the gate agent and she was very sympathetic, telling me she could not make any promises but she would do her very best to help me, as well as alert the cabin crew that there would be a passenger prone to illness on the flight. She came through, and I was given 25A at the window.
Have any of you ever been stuck on a long flight with the seatmate from hell? Well today was my turn. This guy was either Russian or Swedish, in his mid-seventies, smelled bad, and drank non-stop. He “slept” a few times, leaning over in my direction and landing on my boob, and his elbow would “slip” off the armrest directly into my crotch. His English was heavily accented and limited to “now we are friends” and “is very good, very good.” CREEPY.
I typically dehydrate myself somewhat in the 12 hours before air travel so I do not have to hop up and down to the lav. Well 8 hours is a pretty long flight and finally I just had to get up to pee. I left the safety of my window seat, and got in the queue for the lav. It was quite long. The air was also very hot. After a few minutes of waiting, I started to feel it… the light-headedness, the queasiness, sweating, and general discomfort. By now there were 6 people in line behind me and at least 12 ahead of me. Then the plane hit some bumpy air and that was it for me.
I felt my stomach begin to rise in my throat. I got dizzy and could barely keep my balance. I dug my thumbnail of the right hand deep into the flesh of my left hand, trying to control the nausea with intense pain. I began to hyperventilate. Another passenger saw my distress, grabbed me, and ran me to the head of the line, knocking other passengers out of the way, and shoved me into the lav just as someone exited. Just in time. The heaving was horrible and intense. A few minutes later, the worst of it has passed, and I just lay there groaning.
A sharp knock on the lav door was a flight attendant checking on me. I cleaned up and came out so see her very worried face in front of me. She put her arm around me and led me quivering back to my seat. Next thing I knew, she had an oxygen tank and mask, and insisted that I use it. I was so embarrassed, but she told me there is at least one passenger on every flight that suffers like this, and oxygen was required by their policy; plus it works! I acquiesced to her request, leaned my head against the window, and started breathing deeply. Within 5 minutes the sick feeling had passed. No idea whether it was the O2 or the vibration.
I felt much better when we landed, and had some time to kill in Chicago, so I went to fill the stomach I had to violently voided a few hours before. Chili’s was good… had a pork sandwich and a beer and all was right with the world once again. I made a bunch of phone calls and then headed to my next flight, which thankfully, was a window seat. I vowed to not get out of it no matter how bad I had to pee.
Our pilot touched down in the San Diego soup right on time. My feet hit home turf at 5:50pm. I gathered my bag and got picked up by my sweetie… damn it was good to see him. Things are still very new with him, but looking promising. He took me out to Seau’s for dinner – blackened salmon salad! – then over to Yuki’s to pick up my car.
It was awesome to see her again, and my kitties!!!! Pixel was holding court on top of a stereo speaker, but as usual, Nemo was hiding under the bed. We shared a glass of champagne, then I headed home. My sweetie hung out with me for a bit, but we were both incredibly exhausted, so he left for home and I headed for bed. I did not even unpack. By the time I turned off the light and began to drift, I had been awake for 25 hours.
My dreams were of Sweden, and cats in funny dresses.
My friend Klas picked me up along with one of his coworkers, and they delivered me to the airport. He helped me get checked in, and we shared a cup of coffee and some breakfast at the terminal. Then it was time for me to head in to the gate.
There had been a problem when I originally booked this flight. I used Orbitz, and for some reason, I was not permitted to choose my seat during that process; in fact, I was assigned a seat when I checked in online that made my blood run cold. 22E.
Folks, I get severe motion sickness on planes. I have tried every med known to man, and nothing abates it. Dramamine works on boats, but not on planes. I have taken to just knocking myself out with Valium when I fly. However this is not always an option, due to my determination not to suffer jetlag. The only and I mean ONLY thing that stops the motion sickness is being able to lean my head against the side of the plane, in a window seat. The vibration and hum seem to calm my inner ears to the point where flying is tolerable, even pleasant. I don’t have to keep my head there constantly, but as soon as the nausea starts, I need to be able to use this trick to force it into retreat.
The flight was oversold. I told my story to the gate agent and she was very sympathetic, telling me she could not make any promises but she would do her very best to help me, as well as alert the cabin crew that there would be a passenger prone to illness on the flight. She came through, and I was given 25A at the window.
Have any of you ever been stuck on a long flight with the seatmate from hell? Well today was my turn. This guy was either Russian or Swedish, in his mid-seventies, smelled bad, and drank non-stop. He “slept” a few times, leaning over in my direction and landing on my boob, and his elbow would “slip” off the armrest directly into my crotch. His English was heavily accented and limited to “now we are friends” and “is very good, very good.” CREEPY.
I typically dehydrate myself somewhat in the 12 hours before air travel so I do not have to hop up and down to the lav. Well 8 hours is a pretty long flight and finally I just had to get up to pee. I left the safety of my window seat, and got in the queue for the lav. It was quite long. The air was also very hot. After a few minutes of waiting, I started to feel it… the light-headedness, the queasiness, sweating, and general discomfort. By now there were 6 people in line behind me and at least 12 ahead of me. Then the plane hit some bumpy air and that was it for me.
I felt my stomach begin to rise in my throat. I got dizzy and could barely keep my balance. I dug my thumbnail of the right hand deep into the flesh of my left hand, trying to control the nausea with intense pain. I began to hyperventilate. Another passenger saw my distress, grabbed me, and ran me to the head of the line, knocking other passengers out of the way, and shoved me into the lav just as someone exited. Just in time. The heaving was horrible and intense. A few minutes later, the worst of it has passed, and I just lay there groaning.
A sharp knock on the lav door was a flight attendant checking on me. I cleaned up and came out so see her very worried face in front of me. She put her arm around me and led me quivering back to my seat. Next thing I knew, she had an oxygen tank and mask, and insisted that I use it. I was so embarrassed, but she told me there is at least one passenger on every flight that suffers like this, and oxygen was required by their policy; plus it works! I acquiesced to her request, leaned my head against the window, and started breathing deeply. Within 5 minutes the sick feeling had passed. No idea whether it was the O2 or the vibration.
I felt much better when we landed, and had some time to kill in Chicago, so I went to fill the stomach I had to violently voided a few hours before. Chili’s was good… had a pork sandwich and a beer and all was right with the world once again. I made a bunch of phone calls and then headed to my next flight, which thankfully, was a window seat. I vowed to not get out of it no matter how bad I had to pee.
Our pilot touched down in the San Diego soup right on time. My feet hit home turf at 5:50pm. I gathered my bag and got picked up by my sweetie… damn it was good to see him. Things are still very new with him, but looking promising. He took me out to Seau’s for dinner – blackened salmon salad! – then over to Yuki’s to pick up my car.
It was awesome to see her again, and my kitties!!!! Pixel was holding court on top of a stereo speaker, but as usual, Nemo was hiding under the bed. We shared a glass of champagne, then I headed home. My sweetie hung out with me for a bit, but we were both incredibly exhausted, so he left for home and I headed for bed. I did not even unpack. By the time I turned off the light and began to drift, I had been awake for 25 hours.
My dreams were of Sweden, and cats in funny dresses.
Sweden 2010, Day 20
Ah….. it felt good to wake up in a warm room alone. But I’ll admit, I sort of missed the chorus of snores which have started my last many mornings on tour.
I padded downstairs. Deanne and Bertil have already left for work, but they started the coffee for me, and I helped myself to some of Bertil’s home-made bread and cheese for breakfast. My clothes were still not dry from yesterday, so as the dryer twirled and hummed, I sat down to blog and pet their cats, and started thinking about home.
I decided to make a random list of the things I miss about home, so I will feel better about leaving Hammerdal.
Rubios. A Cabo Plate drenched in about a gallon of their salsa picante. The food over here is generally bland compared to what I am used to.
Starbucks Coffee. Hell I don’t even like Starbuck’s, but going for weeks without the comforting and familiar presence of a Starbuck’s on every corner has upset my equilibrium a bit.
7-11. My usual stop before work every morning for coffee, lotto, and conversation with the owners.
Work. Crazy, huh? I miss June and Bill and Dan and Janie, and Pepper has left for college now. I really enjoy the work I do for them and am eager to dive back in.
West of 5. My cover band. It’s fun playing music with them, and we have a gig coming up the Sunday after I return. I have to hurry up and get my head adjusted back into that game. They are also wonderful friends and I can’t wait to get caught up with them!
My FRIENDS!! Oh my god I really miss my best friends Jackson and Yuki, Jeff and Cindy, Jesus, Roby and the folks at church, my darling Greg, and all the other awesome people in my life back home.
My cats. My little furry bundles of love. I hope you had a good time hanging with the Jacksons and their menagerie, but not so much that you don’t want to come back home with me!
Warmth. It is so cold here already, at least to me. But I know after 3 days at home, I’ll be bitching about the heat and wishing I was freezing my ass off back here.
My car. I have not driven a car for weeks. I miss being behind the wheel, driving to a gig or to work on Del Dios highway, windows rolled down, stereo cranked.
Hm. I just realized that in my rush to leave for Sweden, I neglected to stock my freezer with food for my return. Damn. Gonna have to grocery shop as soon as I pick up my car from the Jackson’s. Crap.
My flight lands Tuesday night around 6pm, and I have to be at work first thing Wednesday morning. Then I have to pick up my cats. Then I have to rush to a gig Wednesday evening at North Bar.
Can’t real life just wait one more day to start asserting its dominance? Please?
Timo came by to pick me up and take me to Strömsund to visit one last time with his grandparents. I also got to meet his aunt’s awesome husband, whose house I stayed in for a couple of days when I first arrived in central Sweden. I am really going to miss them.
We came back to Timo’s mom’s house, and Johan and Mikaela came by to hang out. I had some trouble checking in to my SAS flight home for tomorrow and had to run back and forth to the computer from the dinner table. They made moose stew. Bertil killed it himself. Pretty cool.
We left for the airport around 5:15. On the drive there, it seemed to me that the sky here in the North is a lot closer to the ground than at home. Does that make sense to you? It just seems to hug the earth more tightly, like the ground has reached up and drawn it in, clinging to the warmth. The clouds were many-layered… thin icy veils at high altitude that sparkled with opalescence when the sun shone though… large long clouds like vanilla custard resided mid-sky, and puffy grayish marshmallow clouds hung like bulky chandeliers, tinkling big drops of rain every few minutes as though to remind both earth and sky who has the REAL power here. A bit of rainbow dropped to the earth and stood there for awhile before fading from the brightness of the sun. I do not want to leave here. The sky alone is reason to stay, not to mention the family I have acquired here. I am cursed with wanderlust, but this is one of only a few places that have captured my heart and wanted to keep it.
Timo, Johan, and Mikaela came into the airport with me, and we said our goodbyes… until next time. I cried like a baby. I am going to miss them so much…. So much….
I landed in Stockholm and my friend Klas picked me up. He had booked a hotel for me in Barkarby, near his home, about 20 minutes from the airport. He showed me his apartment which he is remodeling… the tiles look amazing! I am sad that I did not get to meet his wife though… she was very tired and still traveling home from work. We went to Max because I was suddenly hungry, and I ate and we talked for about an hour. He took me back to my hotel, and played me a couple of tunes from his band. They’re pretty good, and should have a singer soon. Another good friend I have made!
So here I sit, my last night in Sweden, until the next tour. It looks as though this might happen as soon as April or May next year. We are working with a very competent booking agent now, so gigs should be much better, like most of our gigs this year were. Plus, Mr. Black might be ready around that time to release our CD and video. Maybe 2011 will finally be the year I make something of myself in music… after so many years, it’s about time.
I am going to bed with a heavy heart, but will wake up eager to resume my life in San Diego. I will see all of you at home very soon; and I’ll be back here before you know.
Love to all!
I padded downstairs. Deanne and Bertil have already left for work, but they started the coffee for me, and I helped myself to some of Bertil’s home-made bread and cheese for breakfast. My clothes were still not dry from yesterday, so as the dryer twirled and hummed, I sat down to blog and pet their cats, and started thinking about home.
I decided to make a random list of the things I miss about home, so I will feel better about leaving Hammerdal.
Rubios. A Cabo Plate drenched in about a gallon of their salsa picante. The food over here is generally bland compared to what I am used to.
Starbucks Coffee. Hell I don’t even like Starbuck’s, but going for weeks without the comforting and familiar presence of a Starbuck’s on every corner has upset my equilibrium a bit.
7-11. My usual stop before work every morning for coffee, lotto, and conversation with the owners.
Work. Crazy, huh? I miss June and Bill and Dan and Janie, and Pepper has left for college now. I really enjoy the work I do for them and am eager to dive back in.
West of 5. My cover band. It’s fun playing music with them, and we have a gig coming up the Sunday after I return. I have to hurry up and get my head adjusted back into that game. They are also wonderful friends and I can’t wait to get caught up with them!
My FRIENDS!! Oh my god I really miss my best friends Jackson and Yuki, Jeff and Cindy, Jesus, Roby and the folks at church, my darling Greg, and all the other awesome people in my life back home.
My cats. My little furry bundles of love. I hope you had a good time hanging with the Jacksons and their menagerie, but not so much that you don’t want to come back home with me!
Warmth. It is so cold here already, at least to me. But I know after 3 days at home, I’ll be bitching about the heat and wishing I was freezing my ass off back here.
My car. I have not driven a car for weeks. I miss being behind the wheel, driving to a gig or to work on Del Dios highway, windows rolled down, stereo cranked.
Hm. I just realized that in my rush to leave for Sweden, I neglected to stock my freezer with food for my return. Damn. Gonna have to grocery shop as soon as I pick up my car from the Jackson’s. Crap.
My flight lands Tuesday night around 6pm, and I have to be at work first thing Wednesday morning. Then I have to pick up my cats. Then I have to rush to a gig Wednesday evening at North Bar.
Can’t real life just wait one more day to start asserting its dominance? Please?
Timo came by to pick me up and take me to Strömsund to visit one last time with his grandparents. I also got to meet his aunt’s awesome husband, whose house I stayed in for a couple of days when I first arrived in central Sweden. I am really going to miss them.
We came back to Timo’s mom’s house, and Johan and Mikaela came by to hang out. I had some trouble checking in to my SAS flight home for tomorrow and had to run back and forth to the computer from the dinner table. They made moose stew. Bertil killed it himself. Pretty cool.
We left for the airport around 5:15. On the drive there, it seemed to me that the sky here in the North is a lot closer to the ground than at home. Does that make sense to you? It just seems to hug the earth more tightly, like the ground has reached up and drawn it in, clinging to the warmth. The clouds were many-layered… thin icy veils at high altitude that sparkled with opalescence when the sun shone though… large long clouds like vanilla custard resided mid-sky, and puffy grayish marshmallow clouds hung like bulky chandeliers, tinkling big drops of rain every few minutes as though to remind both earth and sky who has the REAL power here. A bit of rainbow dropped to the earth and stood there for awhile before fading from the brightness of the sun. I do not want to leave here. The sky alone is reason to stay, not to mention the family I have acquired here. I am cursed with wanderlust, but this is one of only a few places that have captured my heart and wanted to keep it.
Timo, Johan, and Mikaela came into the airport with me, and we said our goodbyes… until next time. I cried like a baby. I am going to miss them so much…. So much….
I landed in Stockholm and my friend Klas picked me up. He had booked a hotel for me in Barkarby, near his home, about 20 minutes from the airport. He showed me his apartment which he is remodeling… the tiles look amazing! I am sad that I did not get to meet his wife though… she was very tired and still traveling home from work. We went to Max because I was suddenly hungry, and I ate and we talked for about an hour. He took me back to my hotel, and played me a couple of tunes from his band. They’re pretty good, and should have a singer soon. Another good friend I have made!
So here I sit, my last night in Sweden, until the next tour. It looks as though this might happen as soon as April or May next year. We are working with a very competent booking agent now, so gigs should be much better, like most of our gigs this year were. Plus, Mr. Black might be ready around that time to release our CD and video. Maybe 2011 will finally be the year I make something of myself in music… after so many years, it’s about time.
I am going to bed with a heavy heart, but will wake up eager to resume my life in San Diego. I will see all of you at home very soon; and I’ll be back here before you know.
Love to all!
Sweden 2010, Day 19
Sunday. Another long long drive, from Torsby to Hammerdal. Three band members have to be back at work or school tomorrow, so we have no more leisure time. This will be our last day together as a band until I return for the next tour.
After 7 hours on the road, we dropped Tobias off in Östersund and arrived back in Hammerdal late in the afternoon. We were all pretty beat up and tired from the crazy pace of the last few days. We unloaded all the gear at the rehearsal space, then drove to Timo’s mom’s house. I said a little teary goodbye to my darling Henrik, but Jocke left before I could get hold of him for a hug. He’s a little “bah-humbug” about that sort of thing anyway. I hope I get to see him again before I leave Monday evening.
Timo’s mom Deanne and her husband Bertil are putting me up for the night. Deanne is such a sweetheart and very protective of her family. Bertil is a man’s man… hunts moose, has big guns, and drinks really good scotch. We shared a few and talked for a bit; his English is very good. Deanne struggles a bit, but speaks far better than she thinks she does. Being around her, I can see why Timo is the person he is; his mother is a woman of sublime beauty, great depth, and strong character.
They are warm and wonderful hosts. I do not have a single stitch of clean clothing left, so I am doing some laundry and surfing the net in the warmth and comfort of their lovely home. Deanne has loaded up my flash drive with a ton of pics, so when I get home I will wade through them and dole them out.
As I write this now, it is the morning of day 20. This evening I will fly to Stockholm, stay at a hotel arranged by my friend Klas, and leave for home Tuesday morning. I hate this part of the trip, when the work is done, the tour is over, and I have to go. But I miss my friends back home, and my work, and my cats, and the sensible part of me will be happy to come home… however, the “heartest” part will stay here in Hammerdal.
I have some things I want to say to my band.
Jocke: You are the “newest” member of the band for me. Last year, you really didn’t say much; I thought maybe you didn’t like me. Now I know better. You just took some time to get to know me. I really appreciate your steady presence, kindness, and sharp sense of humor. I am also blown away by your rock solid drumming (and rock solid abs… remind me to never again take you up on your offer for me to punch you in the stomach as hard as I can. My wrist still hurts.). Your intelligence elevates this band from its tendency to want to indulge in potty humor 24/7. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Speaking of potty humor, please dig the dead animal out of your butt.
Henrik: If there is a God, he made you, and broke the mold in terror that there would ever be another like you. Sometimes the crazy things you do make me think you are not the sharpest tool in the shed, but you are without a doubt the sweetest cookie in the jar… just a truly beautiful human being in every possible way. I know your struggles, and I can tell you, all will be overcome in time. As a bassist you get better and better every time I see you, and your English has come along to the point where it takes you no effort to almost make me pee with laughter. A big change from the first tour, when your vocabulary was limited to “Don’t understand.” Any time I need you, you are always there to remind me not to take life too seriously, just by being YOU. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Zip your jeans, dude.
Tobias: My hug machine!! I am a person who wilts without affection, and you are always there to give me a hug when I need one. We bonded from the very first tour when I got really sick, and you were the one wringing your hands with worry and taking such good care of me. My friend, you have a pure and open heart. I will always treasure our deep conversations, and the extra something special your presence always brings when we go on tour. Watching you play on stage, I could see your passion for the music re-ignite and take flame, and hope that you will always feel that way about what we do as a band. As a friend you have never once let me down or disappointed me. Your mother has raised an incredible son. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Get your hand out of your pants.
Johan: You are what we call an “old soul.” I think you were maybe born an adult. You are the youngest in the band but by far the most grown-up. It is you I always rely on when sense needs to be made of something difficult and complicated. You seem to always have the solution to whatever challenge presents itself. When things in this band feel like being caught in a hurricane, I look at you and see the calm in the eye of the storm. Your insight and wisdom go far beyond your age; I still think you are a natural-born teacher. Your guitar skills are approaching legendary status; keep doing whatever it is you are doing and you will be right up there with your idols in no time. As a lyricist, you have excellent ideas and it is my pleasure to collaborate with you and fine-tune your work; it melds so well with mine. Between the two of us, we create the theme for Lapis Lazuli, and I believe each collection of songs will surpass the last. You are a wonderful friend and collaborator. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Take a shower. Acid may be required to remove the smell from your pits.
Timo: Where to begin…. These years since you first contacted me have been the most musically fulfilling of my life. People thought I was crazy to get involved with a band thousands of miles away, populated by unproven kids, but I heard, and still hear, something so incredibly special in your compositions. You inhabit a realm above the rest of us, set aside for true creative geniuses. We butt heads sometimes, but this is a GOOD thing… it is how we continually challenge ourselves to get better and take our music to the next level, both creatively and commercially. Your music deserves to be heard and loved by a global audience. Keep writing it, and we will keep “selling” it. I know you don’t care about all of that, but we do, because your music really is that good. It feels incredible to get on stage with you, to sing these songs, to feel the power of the music you created and the lyrics Johan and I put to it. Audiences love it too. You know this. And sweetheart… no one else in the world except maybe your mom could love you as much as I do. All the things I ever wanted to express in my voice are embodied by you and the music you compose. And I know a secret… you love me just as much, Mr. Tough Guy. I hope we keep making music together until I am too old to limp onto a stage, and that you will always be the friend and brother you are to me now. Thank you, thank you, thank you, and I love you.
PS. Burn the shoes. The stench is just too mighty. Do it now before they run away and hatch an evil plot to take over the world.
Me: Guys, I love the person I am around you. At home, I can get into a pretty rigid and stressed out routine of trying to eke out a meager living as a music teacher, bookkeeper, and performer. When I am with you, the part of me that is random and wild and young can emerge, and I can simply take in the experience, like a child on their first trip to Disneyland. On tour with you, it seems the normal rules of life do not apply, time sort of starts and stops on our demand, and each moment is a mountain of almost overwhelming sensation and emotion. Together we are truly a BAND. I love being part of this tribe. Like Vikings of old, let’s go “rape and pillage” with our music until we are revered by all! Ahem. OK, so maybe I am getting a bit carried away here… but you all know what I mean. Thank you for choosing me to be your voice. Thank you and I love you!!!
After 7 hours on the road, we dropped Tobias off in Östersund and arrived back in Hammerdal late in the afternoon. We were all pretty beat up and tired from the crazy pace of the last few days. We unloaded all the gear at the rehearsal space, then drove to Timo’s mom’s house. I said a little teary goodbye to my darling Henrik, but Jocke left before I could get hold of him for a hug. He’s a little “bah-humbug” about that sort of thing anyway. I hope I get to see him again before I leave Monday evening.
Timo’s mom Deanne and her husband Bertil are putting me up for the night. Deanne is such a sweetheart and very protective of her family. Bertil is a man’s man… hunts moose, has big guns, and drinks really good scotch. We shared a few and talked for a bit; his English is very good. Deanne struggles a bit, but speaks far better than she thinks she does. Being around her, I can see why Timo is the person he is; his mother is a woman of sublime beauty, great depth, and strong character.
They are warm and wonderful hosts. I do not have a single stitch of clean clothing left, so I am doing some laundry and surfing the net in the warmth and comfort of their lovely home. Deanne has loaded up my flash drive with a ton of pics, so when I get home I will wade through them and dole them out.
As I write this now, it is the morning of day 20. This evening I will fly to Stockholm, stay at a hotel arranged by my friend Klas, and leave for home Tuesday morning. I hate this part of the trip, when the work is done, the tour is over, and I have to go. But I miss my friends back home, and my work, and my cats, and the sensible part of me will be happy to come home… however, the “heartest” part will stay here in Hammerdal.
I have some things I want to say to my band.
Jocke: You are the “newest” member of the band for me. Last year, you really didn’t say much; I thought maybe you didn’t like me. Now I know better. You just took some time to get to know me. I really appreciate your steady presence, kindness, and sharp sense of humor. I am also blown away by your rock solid drumming (and rock solid abs… remind me to never again take you up on your offer for me to punch you in the stomach as hard as I can. My wrist still hurts.). Your intelligence elevates this band from its tendency to want to indulge in potty humor 24/7. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Speaking of potty humor, please dig the dead animal out of your butt.
Henrik: If there is a God, he made you, and broke the mold in terror that there would ever be another like you. Sometimes the crazy things you do make me think you are not the sharpest tool in the shed, but you are without a doubt the sweetest cookie in the jar… just a truly beautiful human being in every possible way. I know your struggles, and I can tell you, all will be overcome in time. As a bassist you get better and better every time I see you, and your English has come along to the point where it takes you no effort to almost make me pee with laughter. A big change from the first tour, when your vocabulary was limited to “Don’t understand.” Any time I need you, you are always there to remind me not to take life too seriously, just by being YOU. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Zip your jeans, dude.
Tobias: My hug machine!! I am a person who wilts without affection, and you are always there to give me a hug when I need one. We bonded from the very first tour when I got really sick, and you were the one wringing your hands with worry and taking such good care of me. My friend, you have a pure and open heart. I will always treasure our deep conversations, and the extra something special your presence always brings when we go on tour. Watching you play on stage, I could see your passion for the music re-ignite and take flame, and hope that you will always feel that way about what we do as a band. As a friend you have never once let me down or disappointed me. Your mother has raised an incredible son. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Get your hand out of your pants.
Johan: You are what we call an “old soul.” I think you were maybe born an adult. You are the youngest in the band but by far the most grown-up. It is you I always rely on when sense needs to be made of something difficult and complicated. You seem to always have the solution to whatever challenge presents itself. When things in this band feel like being caught in a hurricane, I look at you and see the calm in the eye of the storm. Your insight and wisdom go far beyond your age; I still think you are a natural-born teacher. Your guitar skills are approaching legendary status; keep doing whatever it is you are doing and you will be right up there with your idols in no time. As a lyricist, you have excellent ideas and it is my pleasure to collaborate with you and fine-tune your work; it melds so well with mine. Between the two of us, we create the theme for Lapis Lazuli, and I believe each collection of songs will surpass the last. You are a wonderful friend and collaborator. Thank you and I love you.
PS. Take a shower. Acid may be required to remove the smell from your pits.
Timo: Where to begin…. These years since you first contacted me have been the most musically fulfilling of my life. People thought I was crazy to get involved with a band thousands of miles away, populated by unproven kids, but I heard, and still hear, something so incredibly special in your compositions. You inhabit a realm above the rest of us, set aside for true creative geniuses. We butt heads sometimes, but this is a GOOD thing… it is how we continually challenge ourselves to get better and take our music to the next level, both creatively and commercially. Your music deserves to be heard and loved by a global audience. Keep writing it, and we will keep “selling” it. I know you don’t care about all of that, but we do, because your music really is that good. It feels incredible to get on stage with you, to sing these songs, to feel the power of the music you created and the lyrics Johan and I put to it. Audiences love it too. You know this. And sweetheart… no one else in the world except maybe your mom could love you as much as I do. All the things I ever wanted to express in my voice are embodied by you and the music you compose. And I know a secret… you love me just as much, Mr. Tough Guy. I hope we keep making music together until I am too old to limp onto a stage, and that you will always be the friend and brother you are to me now. Thank you, thank you, thank you, and I love you.
PS. Burn the shoes. The stench is just too mighty. Do it now before they run away and hatch an evil plot to take over the world.
Me: Guys, I love the person I am around you. At home, I can get into a pretty rigid and stressed out routine of trying to eke out a meager living as a music teacher, bookkeeper, and performer. When I am with you, the part of me that is random and wild and young can emerge, and I can simply take in the experience, like a child on their first trip to Disneyland. On tour with you, it seems the normal rules of life do not apply, time sort of starts and stops on our demand, and each moment is a mountain of almost overwhelming sensation and emotion. Together we are truly a BAND. I love being part of this tribe. Like Vikings of old, let’s go “rape and pillage” with our music until we are revered by all! Ahem. OK, so maybe I am getting a bit carried away here… but you all know what I mean. Thank you for choosing me to be your voice. Thank you and I love you!!!
Sweden 2010, Day 18
Stockholm. 6.30. Camping cabin. Cold. Sort of heard something. Got shaken a bit. It stopped. Something groaned; it might have been me. I faded back into oblivion. Then, through a fog, I heard my name being called over and over again. Felt someone shake me gently. I started to emerge from the illness-induced semi-coma I had apparently been in to find Henrik’s sweet face hovering over me. “Meliesa, it is time to get up, we are leaving soon. Meliesa wake up.” He looked so concerned. I growled and pulled myself up by will alone. I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day. Is this what it felt like to emerge from the warmth and safety of the womb? I shivered and inside I was squalling like a newborn. Put me back in, dammit. Too bright out here.
After splashing some very cold water on my face and brushing my teeth, I felt at least mammal, though nowhere near human. Massive amounts of caffeine would required for that. I slammed my meds, packed my bag, and still half-asleep, crawled into the car. We have a very long drive ahead of us; at least 8 hours to Jevnaker, Norway, about an hour north of Oslo. The band once again earned my undying gratitude by stopping for coffee at the first place we found that was open.
The meds kicked in and I was able to enjoy most of the ride to Norway, though I admit I slept through at least half of it. I started paying attention once we crossed into this new country for me. The landscape is much the same as Sweden, though the further west we traveled, the more plains gave way to hills, and trees to grassy fields. The houses are constructed in a similar fashion. The main difference is that is seemed… well… wealthier than Sweden. Duh. Norway has all the gas and oil.
It took us quite awhile once we got to Jevnaker to find the venue. As we were searching for it, we tore up the tour van quite a bit on tiny little roads that felt like a wild goose chase for the amusement of our Garmin GPS unit. When we did find it, it looked quite unremarkable from the outside. Boring even. We stretched and headed in.
Two words: HOLY SHIT.
The stage was huge! The room was huge! The sound system was HUGE! This venue Glassheim (also known as The Untouchables Hard Rock Club) has international touring acts on a regular basis. Ozzy loves playing here. Everyone who is anyone in the metal scene has played here. Oh. My. GOD. In a few hours, it’s gonna be US up there!!
We are opening for a band called Backstreet Girls, who are long-time veterans of the Norway rock scene, sort Scandinavia’s version of AC/DC. According to our liaison at the club, a lot of people were coming out to see US, not just the other band. Freaky cool! We have never played here but we already have a following. Timo says that for supporting live music Sweden really sucks, but Norway is positively fanatical. They feed on it like sex and beer. Very exciting, and I wish I was feeling healthier.
After sound check, they gave us an area to hang out, and bought us pizza and beer. The Backstreet Girls showed up, already drunk, rude, arrogant, acting like typical rock stars. We in Lapis Lazuli solemnly promised each other that when we gain that kind of status, we will never behave that badly. I’m sorry, but I would rather stay a small act and retain some humanity and dignity than ever act like a tool just because I am famous.
My lungs were still burning from the asthma attack the day before, so when the other band started chain-smoking in the confined area, we retreated first to the van, then to an alcove right off the stage, where the guys used their bodies to shield me from looky-loos while I changed into my stage clothes. The room was starting to fill up. The air was charged with expectation. I felt magic about to happen. Then it was time.
We took to the stage on this, our final show of this tour, with a frenzy and passion unmatched (in my opinion) by any band, any place, any time. We defined ourselves with this moment, in this venue, as an act worthy of notice and attention. Vocally I was a bit rough, and had not as much air, but I powered though it and did my best as did the boys to put on the show of my life. People swarmed the barrier in front of the stage, screaming and cheering and throwing the horns; some stood back and really WATCHED, and listened, and nodded their approval with thumbs-up and a smile.
In short, we killed it.
I was near tears with happiness as we exited the stage, and I think the rest of the band felt that same powerful emotion as I did: We are in. And we are One. This show, this night, was really just the very beginning of our larger journey. One small step, but in the right direction.
Immediately after the show, we had to pack up and leave. Everything in Norway is outrageously expensive, and we simply could not afford accommodations there. We had secured a camping cabin for the night back in Sweden, and it would take at least three hours to drive there. We left at 23.30 and arrived at around 03.00, after driving around the campground in the dark trying to find our cabin.
Most of the camping cabins in Sweden, at least the ones we can afford like the six-sleeper with an outhouse in Stockholm, cost maybe SEK300-400 per night, roughly $45-$60. All we could get on this night which was on our route home was a six-sleeper near Torsby with it own kitchen with running water, a bathroom/shower, three rooms and real beds. Luxury!! It cost us SEK800, or $120 for the night, and a SEK50 surcharge for electricity used. It was warm, the beds were comfy, and I didn’t have to hike in the freezing cold to the outhouse if I had to pee in the middle of the night. WOOT! Hopefully next tour, we will be able to afford more like this. I don’t mind bunking up with five smelly snoring guys if I can do so in relative comfort. Hell... who am I kidding? I don’t even need comfort; I just really enjoy hanging with my band.
I took a long hot shower and washed my hair. I was unsuccessful in my quest for clean socks, so I just turned the old ones inside out; no way no matter how bad it gets, my feet will never smell like Timo’s. I closed the door to the room I was sharing with Tobias to at least muffle the snoring coming from the other two rooms, and drifted off with a huge smile. I love this life.
After splashing some very cold water on my face and brushing my teeth, I felt at least mammal, though nowhere near human. Massive amounts of caffeine would required for that. I slammed my meds, packed my bag, and still half-asleep, crawled into the car. We have a very long drive ahead of us; at least 8 hours to Jevnaker, Norway, about an hour north of Oslo. The band once again earned my undying gratitude by stopping for coffee at the first place we found that was open.
The meds kicked in and I was able to enjoy most of the ride to Norway, though I admit I slept through at least half of it. I started paying attention once we crossed into this new country for me. The landscape is much the same as Sweden, though the further west we traveled, the more plains gave way to hills, and trees to grassy fields. The houses are constructed in a similar fashion. The main difference is that is seemed… well… wealthier than Sweden. Duh. Norway has all the gas and oil.
It took us quite awhile once we got to Jevnaker to find the venue. As we were searching for it, we tore up the tour van quite a bit on tiny little roads that felt like a wild goose chase for the amusement of our Garmin GPS unit. When we did find it, it looked quite unremarkable from the outside. Boring even. We stretched and headed in.
Two words: HOLY SHIT.
The stage was huge! The room was huge! The sound system was HUGE! This venue Glassheim (also known as The Untouchables Hard Rock Club) has international touring acts on a regular basis. Ozzy loves playing here. Everyone who is anyone in the metal scene has played here. Oh. My. GOD. In a few hours, it’s gonna be US up there!!
We are opening for a band called Backstreet Girls, who are long-time veterans of the Norway rock scene, sort Scandinavia’s version of AC/DC. According to our liaison at the club, a lot of people were coming out to see US, not just the other band. Freaky cool! We have never played here but we already have a following. Timo says that for supporting live music Sweden really sucks, but Norway is positively fanatical. They feed on it like sex and beer. Very exciting, and I wish I was feeling healthier.
After sound check, they gave us an area to hang out, and bought us pizza and beer. The Backstreet Girls showed up, already drunk, rude, arrogant, acting like typical rock stars. We in Lapis Lazuli solemnly promised each other that when we gain that kind of status, we will never behave that badly. I’m sorry, but I would rather stay a small act and retain some humanity and dignity than ever act like a tool just because I am famous.
My lungs were still burning from the asthma attack the day before, so when the other band started chain-smoking in the confined area, we retreated first to the van, then to an alcove right off the stage, where the guys used their bodies to shield me from looky-loos while I changed into my stage clothes. The room was starting to fill up. The air was charged with expectation. I felt magic about to happen. Then it was time.
We took to the stage on this, our final show of this tour, with a frenzy and passion unmatched (in my opinion) by any band, any place, any time. We defined ourselves with this moment, in this venue, as an act worthy of notice and attention. Vocally I was a bit rough, and had not as much air, but I powered though it and did my best as did the boys to put on the show of my life. People swarmed the barrier in front of the stage, screaming and cheering and throwing the horns; some stood back and really WATCHED, and listened, and nodded their approval with thumbs-up and a smile.
In short, we killed it.
I was near tears with happiness as we exited the stage, and I think the rest of the band felt that same powerful emotion as I did: We are in. And we are One. This show, this night, was really just the very beginning of our larger journey. One small step, but in the right direction.
Immediately after the show, we had to pack up and leave. Everything in Norway is outrageously expensive, and we simply could not afford accommodations there. We had secured a camping cabin for the night back in Sweden, and it would take at least three hours to drive there. We left at 23.30 and arrived at around 03.00, after driving around the campground in the dark trying to find our cabin.
Most of the camping cabins in Sweden, at least the ones we can afford like the six-sleeper with an outhouse in Stockholm, cost maybe SEK300-400 per night, roughly $45-$60. All we could get on this night which was on our route home was a six-sleeper near Torsby with it own kitchen with running water, a bathroom/shower, three rooms and real beds. Luxury!! It cost us SEK800, or $120 for the night, and a SEK50 surcharge for electricity used. It was warm, the beds were comfy, and I didn’t have to hike in the freezing cold to the outhouse if I had to pee in the middle of the night. WOOT! Hopefully next tour, we will be able to afford more like this. I don’t mind bunking up with five smelly snoring guys if I can do so in relative comfort. Hell... who am I kidding? I don’t even need comfort; I just really enjoy hanging with my band.
I took a long hot shower and washed my hair. I was unsuccessful in my quest for clean socks, so I just turned the old ones inside out; no way no matter how bad it gets, my feet will never smell like Timo’s. I closed the door to the room I was sharing with Tobias to at least muffle the snoring coming from the other two rooms, and drifted off with a huge smile. I love this life.
Sweden 2010, Day 17
Crawled out of bed. It was at least warm in the room, a great change from the freezing cold damp camping cabin. The hotel in Hudiksvall had free breakfast, so I went down and helped myself to some coffee, bacon, cereal, and my first scrambled eggs in weeks.
Here’s a big thank you to my P.A. in Vista… he prescribes me meds every year before I come here in case I get sick. Last year I did not need them…. This year I did. Thanks Erik! Antibiotics which I almost never take, some Mucinex D, and some Advil, and I felt nearly human again.
I zoned out for much of the drive back to Stockholm. It took us about three hours to get there, then another hour to find a place to park. We all grabbed as much crap as we could carry and slogged it to the venue; quite a walk, including several flights of huge stairs. My lungs were freezing and spasmodic. We got to the KGB club and I could not even take a moment to appreciate my surroundings, for as soon as I got to the room where we were playing, I started wheezing and lost all my air. I dropped my load, fell to my knees, and started reaching frantically for my inhaler. I felt like I was going to pass out. This was easily the worst asthma attack I have ever had… it took three puffs and nearly 30 minutes for it to abate, but at last it did.
After another half hour I felt well enough to get through sound check. We were playing in a tiny room, open to two storeys, and Timo could not fit his 6’8” frame into the “stage” area, so he and I came out in front by the bar, and the rest of the band squeezed in behind us. No room for anyone to move this gig! Still, we knew we would have a great time.
After sound check, the club provided dinner for us… a delicious piping hot plate of meatballs, mushrooms, and potatoes in a mild sauce. The club itself is pretty cool. The décor is Cold War – era Russia, and many of the artifacts were genuine. A lot of thought went into this place, as every detail was in my opinion perfect. Heck, in the bathrooms, one is treated to a lesson in how to speak Russian as you go about your business!
We had quite a few hours to kill before the show, and they gave us the exceedingly warm boiler room to use as our hangout. My friend Klas came out to see us, and a couple of Tobias’ friends who live in Stockholm also came out. My voice held up pretty well, and we put on one hell of a show, even though Timo almost cracked his head open headbanging in front of the speakers which hung a scant inch from the top of his head.
Once we were done and in the car, I crashed HARD. I started feeling so sick, and nauseous, and feverish, so I slept while we made our way back to the cold little camping cabin. I paused only long enough to scrub off my makeup and brush my teeth, and I was out.
More tomorrow.
Here’s a big thank you to my P.A. in Vista… he prescribes me meds every year before I come here in case I get sick. Last year I did not need them…. This year I did. Thanks Erik! Antibiotics which I almost never take, some Mucinex D, and some Advil, and I felt nearly human again.
I zoned out for much of the drive back to Stockholm. It took us about three hours to get there, then another hour to find a place to park. We all grabbed as much crap as we could carry and slogged it to the venue; quite a walk, including several flights of huge stairs. My lungs were freezing and spasmodic. We got to the KGB club and I could not even take a moment to appreciate my surroundings, for as soon as I got to the room where we were playing, I started wheezing and lost all my air. I dropped my load, fell to my knees, and started reaching frantically for my inhaler. I felt like I was going to pass out. This was easily the worst asthma attack I have ever had… it took three puffs and nearly 30 minutes for it to abate, but at last it did.
After another half hour I felt well enough to get through sound check. We were playing in a tiny room, open to two storeys, and Timo could not fit his 6’8” frame into the “stage” area, so he and I came out in front by the bar, and the rest of the band squeezed in behind us. No room for anyone to move this gig! Still, we knew we would have a great time.
After sound check, the club provided dinner for us… a delicious piping hot plate of meatballs, mushrooms, and potatoes in a mild sauce. The club itself is pretty cool. The décor is Cold War – era Russia, and many of the artifacts were genuine. A lot of thought went into this place, as every detail was in my opinion perfect. Heck, in the bathrooms, one is treated to a lesson in how to speak Russian as you go about your business!
We had quite a few hours to kill before the show, and they gave us the exceedingly warm boiler room to use as our hangout. My friend Klas came out to see us, and a couple of Tobias’ friends who live in Stockholm also came out. My voice held up pretty well, and we put on one hell of a show, even though Timo almost cracked his head open headbanging in front of the speakers which hung a scant inch from the top of his head.
Once we were done and in the car, I crashed HARD. I started feeling so sick, and nauseous, and feverish, so I slept while we made our way back to the cold little camping cabin. I paused only long enough to scrub off my makeup and brush my teeth, and I was out.
More tomorrow.
Sweden 2010, Day 16
I have to start by saying, I really love my band. These guys have so much spirit, character, and talent that I just have to stand back in amazement. They really are like family to me. They know when to joke around, when to be serious, and went to be there for each other when one of us needs a little extra encouragement, which for me, was today.
I woke up sick. Several days in a damp cramped camping cabin with stale air and one band member already sick was enough to wear down my immune system. It didn’t help that I had been soaked to the skin the day before either. Still, even though my lungs had that scary and familiar burning sensation of impending bronchitis, I had hopes that it was only a cold, so I took a decongestant and went about my day.
We were packed up and on the road by 10.30, half an hour ahead of schedule. We needed to make 2 stops in Uppsala on our way to Hudiksvall, so Jocke could buy drum sticks and Tobias could go to a store which sells high-end items for Disc Golf enthusiasts. After that, it was a rainy, subdued, and quiet ride to our next venue three hours north. The guys knew I was not feeling well, and toned down their usual shenanigans so I could sleep.
The venue itself was really nice!!! Huge stage, great sound system, and the sound engineer was very nice, thorough, and accommodating, making sure my monitor mix was exactly what I needed. Once I sang my first note at sound check, I knew it was vocally going to be a really rough night for me. I could hit the notes, but it required far more effort, and had only half my usual power and clarity, and some throat pain made my pitch waver a bit. Yup. Sick. Shit.
Hudiksvall is a pretty dead town. Not a whole lot going on here. In fact, as we were walking to a restaurant for dinner after sound check, I felt like I had wandered into a Soviet-era town in Siberia. Hardly a soul to be seen. The venue had arranged and paid for our accommodations, so we were taken to a really nice hotel and given two rooms which sleep three each. Tobias and Timo bunked up with me while Henrik, Jocke, and Johan took the other room. As I got dressed for the show, I started feeling light-headed, like I could not get enough air. Crap. I know this feeling.
I guess every band has to have one crappy gig on every tour, and this one was ours. Sure, we sounded okay, and despite the pain and strain, I got through it vocally; but we played to an audience of seven, one of whom was the sound engineer. Our policy is to put on a kick-ass show whether we are playing to six or six thousand, in a broom closet or a stadium, so we did our best to entertain them, and they loved us. After we were done with our set, the soundman apologized, and said it was actually very hard to get people to come out and do anything in this town. Bummer.
I still felt very ill, so when I got back to the room, I took a long hot shower and went to bed early. As I snuggled into the very comfortable twin bed with the cozy covers and fluffy pillow in the warm room with clean air, I thought, maybe I’ll wake up feeling better.
Nope. As I write this now, at the beginning of Day 17, things are feeling pretty grim. Lungs are freezing and heavy, throat is swollen and sore, sinuses completely impacted. I am on meds and hoping for the best. Send me your thoughts and prayers please… our two biggest shows are tonight in Stockholm and tomorrow near Oslo, Norway. I’ll do my best to keep you posted.
I woke up sick. Several days in a damp cramped camping cabin with stale air and one band member already sick was enough to wear down my immune system. It didn’t help that I had been soaked to the skin the day before either. Still, even though my lungs had that scary and familiar burning sensation of impending bronchitis, I had hopes that it was only a cold, so I took a decongestant and went about my day.
We were packed up and on the road by 10.30, half an hour ahead of schedule. We needed to make 2 stops in Uppsala on our way to Hudiksvall, so Jocke could buy drum sticks and Tobias could go to a store which sells high-end items for Disc Golf enthusiasts. After that, it was a rainy, subdued, and quiet ride to our next venue three hours north. The guys knew I was not feeling well, and toned down their usual shenanigans so I could sleep.
The venue itself was really nice!!! Huge stage, great sound system, and the sound engineer was very nice, thorough, and accommodating, making sure my monitor mix was exactly what I needed. Once I sang my first note at sound check, I knew it was vocally going to be a really rough night for me. I could hit the notes, but it required far more effort, and had only half my usual power and clarity, and some throat pain made my pitch waver a bit. Yup. Sick. Shit.
Hudiksvall is a pretty dead town. Not a whole lot going on here. In fact, as we were walking to a restaurant for dinner after sound check, I felt like I had wandered into a Soviet-era town in Siberia. Hardly a soul to be seen. The venue had arranged and paid for our accommodations, so we were taken to a really nice hotel and given two rooms which sleep three each. Tobias and Timo bunked up with me while Henrik, Jocke, and Johan took the other room. As I got dressed for the show, I started feeling light-headed, like I could not get enough air. Crap. I know this feeling.
I guess every band has to have one crappy gig on every tour, and this one was ours. Sure, we sounded okay, and despite the pain and strain, I got through it vocally; but we played to an audience of seven, one of whom was the sound engineer. Our policy is to put on a kick-ass show whether we are playing to six or six thousand, in a broom closet or a stadium, so we did our best to entertain them, and they loved us. After we were done with our set, the soundman apologized, and said it was actually very hard to get people to come out and do anything in this town. Bummer.
I still felt very ill, so when I got back to the room, I took a long hot shower and went to bed early. As I snuggled into the very comfortable twin bed with the cozy covers and fluffy pillow in the warm room with clean air, I thought, maybe I’ll wake up feeling better.
Nope. As I write this now, at the beginning of Day 17, things are feeling pretty grim. Lungs are freezing and heavy, throat is swollen and sore, sinuses completely impacted. I am on meds and hoping for the best. Send me your thoughts and prayers please… our two biggest shows are tonight in Stockholm and tomorrow near Oslo, Norway. I’ll do my best to keep you posted.
Sweden 2010, Day 15
I am becoming an expert in sleeping in. I was restless for a bit early this morning, but got back in my bunk and went back to sleep like a good girl. Sort of decadent and a habit I will not be keeping upon my return. Still… aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh.
We got our asses together and decided to head into Stockholm for some sightseeing on this last day off. The city itself is a cosmopolitan blend of old and new; more vodka than cranberry if you catch my drift, and only a hint of lime. It takes itself just seriously enough to not become a touristy caricature of itself, though it certainly has areas that cater to the wandering curious.
There is very little one could want than cannot be found in Stockholm. It advertises itself garishly on billboards and creative signage on building sides, but the lack of English speaks of both a sense of entitlement and mild scorn for the non-Swede, and also a pride in the city which screams “yeah, come have a look and see for yourself why we are better than you… right?” I could visit here for a few days at most before being burned out by the carefully coifed citizenry and custom. The city is just a bit too clean, too tame, and too repressed by its need to impress. I can’t trust a place where the dark underbelly is so meticulously hidden, if it even exists.
We went to a media tower which is the highest point in Stockholm at 30 floors. It boasts an incredible 360 degree view of the city and surrounding areas. Once we had our fill of looking down at the little ant-humans scurrying about below, we drove to the royal palace. Should that be capitalized? I really don’t get the big deal about monarchies in general. They are in my opinion pretty useless these days, and they cost a shitload of money and resources to maintain.
Granted, the palace was gorgeous. There are no tours of the interior, but one can wander around the exterior and outbuildings. There are uniformed guards with bayonets guarding every entrance. I was told that I could go speak to one if I wanted to get arrested. I declined that honor.
This part of the city is for bikes and pedestrians only, which is very refreshing. We took a long walk, taking in the sights. Henrik stopped at a cosmetics store to buy his girlfriend an item that is not available in their small northern town. Very sweet. Then it started to rain, and none of us were dressed for it. I got soaked to the skin on the way back to the car, and I can promise you, my jacket will not dry out before I have to leave tomorrow… maybe not even before I have to leave the country in 6 days. At least I got to see a double rainbow over Stockholm as we began to make our way back to the campground.
We stopped at McD’s (ugh) and I ordered a Happy Meal. Now I have a toy I can bring back for someone. Maybe they can explain to me what it is supposed to be, because to me, it looks like a Wile E. Coyote banana hammock.
I have a tradition that one evening on tour, I cook a nice meal for the band, so we stopped and shopped for some stuff, and I made them grilled steaks, potatoes with peppers and onions, and grilled eggplant and zucchini. Yum!
After dinner as I walked to the “service house,” I happened to look up into the sky. I stopped dead in my tracks. STARS. Big, beautiful, pulsating, and so fucking many of them. Back home, there is so much light pollution that to see stars, you have to drive way up 395 to get a really good view, shielded from the lights of the coast and valleys. Here, only 30 km from Stockholm, it was nearly that dark. The longer I looked up, the more I could see, and the North Star was so so high in the sky. I think I even saw the Milky Way, a light veil strewn over the inky blackness. It was quiet, and the sky seemed to fall towards me, or maybe a part of me was ascending toward it. I felt enveloped by the stars’ brightness and warmth and knew that we are not alone in this Universe. Music of the spheres. Yeah. I closed my eyes and heard them sing to me. I knew the song well. I was one of them.
We watched the new Robin Hood, the one with Russell Crowe. I had already seen it, and was pretty damned tired, so I headed to bed early. We are leaving at 11.00 for Uppsala, then on to Hudiksvall for a gig there. It has been a nice 2 days off, but I am eager to hit the stage again!
We got our asses together and decided to head into Stockholm for some sightseeing on this last day off. The city itself is a cosmopolitan blend of old and new; more vodka than cranberry if you catch my drift, and only a hint of lime. It takes itself just seriously enough to not become a touristy caricature of itself, though it certainly has areas that cater to the wandering curious.
There is very little one could want than cannot be found in Stockholm. It advertises itself garishly on billboards and creative signage on building sides, but the lack of English speaks of both a sense of entitlement and mild scorn for the non-Swede, and also a pride in the city which screams “yeah, come have a look and see for yourself why we are better than you… right?” I could visit here for a few days at most before being burned out by the carefully coifed citizenry and custom. The city is just a bit too clean, too tame, and too repressed by its need to impress. I can’t trust a place where the dark underbelly is so meticulously hidden, if it even exists.
We went to a media tower which is the highest point in Stockholm at 30 floors. It boasts an incredible 360 degree view of the city and surrounding areas. Once we had our fill of looking down at the little ant-humans scurrying about below, we drove to the royal palace. Should that be capitalized? I really don’t get the big deal about monarchies in general. They are in my opinion pretty useless these days, and they cost a shitload of money and resources to maintain.
Granted, the palace was gorgeous. There are no tours of the interior, but one can wander around the exterior and outbuildings. There are uniformed guards with bayonets guarding every entrance. I was told that I could go speak to one if I wanted to get arrested. I declined that honor.
This part of the city is for bikes and pedestrians only, which is very refreshing. We took a long walk, taking in the sights. Henrik stopped at a cosmetics store to buy his girlfriend an item that is not available in their small northern town. Very sweet. Then it started to rain, and none of us were dressed for it. I got soaked to the skin on the way back to the car, and I can promise you, my jacket will not dry out before I have to leave tomorrow… maybe not even before I have to leave the country in 6 days. At least I got to see a double rainbow over Stockholm as we began to make our way back to the campground.
We stopped at McD’s (ugh) and I ordered a Happy Meal. Now I have a toy I can bring back for someone. Maybe they can explain to me what it is supposed to be, because to me, it looks like a Wile E. Coyote banana hammock.
I have a tradition that one evening on tour, I cook a nice meal for the band, so we stopped and shopped for some stuff, and I made them grilled steaks, potatoes with peppers and onions, and grilled eggplant and zucchini. Yum!
After dinner as I walked to the “service house,” I happened to look up into the sky. I stopped dead in my tracks. STARS. Big, beautiful, pulsating, and so fucking many of them. Back home, there is so much light pollution that to see stars, you have to drive way up 395 to get a really good view, shielded from the lights of the coast and valleys. Here, only 30 km from Stockholm, it was nearly that dark. The longer I looked up, the more I could see, and the North Star was so so high in the sky. I think I even saw the Milky Way, a light veil strewn over the inky blackness. It was quiet, and the sky seemed to fall towards me, or maybe a part of me was ascending toward it. I felt enveloped by the stars’ brightness and warmth and knew that we are not alone in this Universe. Music of the spheres. Yeah. I closed my eyes and heard them sing to me. I knew the song well. I was one of them.
We watched the new Robin Hood, the one with Russell Crowe. I had already seen it, and was pretty damned tired, so I headed to bed early. We are leaving at 11.00 for Uppsala, then on to Hudiksvall for a gig there. It has been a nice 2 days off, but I am eager to hit the stage again!
Sweden 2010, Day 14
13.30. This was the time we all actually began to slowly emerge from the fog of alcohol-induced sleep. I know how to drink, so I knew that I would not have a hangover, but I was quite surprised that of all the drinking the boys did, only Henrik seemed to wake up feeling a teeny bit ragged. We all indulged in a little hair of the dog and went about our day.
Johan had forgotten his jacket at the venue yesterday, so we went into Uppsala to retrieve it and do a bit of sightseeing. As always, the drive was very entertaining, except when Jocke farted so bad that we had to roll all the windows down in the rain to keep from vomiting at the stench. Retching, I quietly began to plot my revenge.
Our first stop was Uppsala Domkyrka, the head cathedral for the Church in Sweden. As you know, I have a passion for architecture, and often sacred buildings are history’s greatest examples of this art and science. Construction began in the mid-13th century, and the structure was completed and consecrated in 1435. There was a terrible fire which damaged the roof, the towers, and interior of the church in 1702. Two major restorations were carried out in the late 1800s and again in the mid 1900s.
The windows, frescoes, sculptures, tapestries, and the building itself damn near had me in tears, it was so beautiful. I have been fortunate to see a great many of these sacred buildings in my travels, and this one is now in my top 3, the others being St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, and the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul, Turkey.
Since the boys had ignored the parking signs, we got back to the car to find we had a ticket. Great. At least it was not terribly expensive. We had really good internet reception so since we already had a ticket, we just hung out in the car while I used Jocke’s laptop and iPhone to upload the last 2 blogs. Sweet. Darth Farter was forgiven.
After getting Johan’s jacket, we headed out of town to a place where Viking kings of old are buried. Buried? Strange. I always thought that Vikings launched their dead into the water on boats which were set afire by flaming arrows shot from shore. The weather was pretty bad, so I had dressed for it… several layers, including gloves, hat, and scarf. The guys thought it was pretty funny, until we started walking around the gravesites, which are really just huge barrows of earth. They didn’t get half a kilometer before pussing out from the cold and rain. I was quite bummed; I had really wanted to explore and further feed my Viking fetish.
We stopped at a restaurant near Uppsala for an early dinner. It seems almost every food establishment here is owned by immigrants who were political refugees from the middle east countries, so everywhere it is “pizza – kebab – pasta.” The pizzas here are just strange to me. It was hard to find one that had the kind of toppings that I enjoy, but they sure as hell get the crust right here. Nice and thin, not floppy, but not stiff as cardboard either. We had a nice meal and of course the company was excellent. Even Timo behaved… sort of.
We stopped at a large store to buy some scissors because Timo needed his hair cut. For reasons unknown to me, he entrusted this task to Henrik, who was laughing so hard he could not cut a straight line. I took over and finished the job properly, with a total of about 5 inches removed from his four-foot-long tresses.
The rest of the evening was relatively unremarkable; a bit of drinking, joking around, movies, deep conversations, and Timo composing music for the next CD already. I did get a bit of revenge on Darth Farter… Jocke cries now to know that girls can fart too.
Johan had forgotten his jacket at the venue yesterday, so we went into Uppsala to retrieve it and do a bit of sightseeing. As always, the drive was very entertaining, except when Jocke farted so bad that we had to roll all the windows down in the rain to keep from vomiting at the stench. Retching, I quietly began to plot my revenge.
Our first stop was Uppsala Domkyrka, the head cathedral for the Church in Sweden. As you know, I have a passion for architecture, and often sacred buildings are history’s greatest examples of this art and science. Construction began in the mid-13th century, and the structure was completed and consecrated in 1435. There was a terrible fire which damaged the roof, the towers, and interior of the church in 1702. Two major restorations were carried out in the late 1800s and again in the mid 1900s.
The windows, frescoes, sculptures, tapestries, and the building itself damn near had me in tears, it was so beautiful. I have been fortunate to see a great many of these sacred buildings in my travels, and this one is now in my top 3, the others being St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, and the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul, Turkey.
Since the boys had ignored the parking signs, we got back to the car to find we had a ticket. Great. At least it was not terribly expensive. We had really good internet reception so since we already had a ticket, we just hung out in the car while I used Jocke’s laptop and iPhone to upload the last 2 blogs. Sweet. Darth Farter was forgiven.
After getting Johan’s jacket, we headed out of town to a place where Viking kings of old are buried. Buried? Strange. I always thought that Vikings launched their dead into the water on boats which were set afire by flaming arrows shot from shore. The weather was pretty bad, so I had dressed for it… several layers, including gloves, hat, and scarf. The guys thought it was pretty funny, until we started walking around the gravesites, which are really just huge barrows of earth. They didn’t get half a kilometer before pussing out from the cold and rain. I was quite bummed; I had really wanted to explore and further feed my Viking fetish.
We stopped at a restaurant near Uppsala for an early dinner. It seems almost every food establishment here is owned by immigrants who were political refugees from the middle east countries, so everywhere it is “pizza – kebab – pasta.” The pizzas here are just strange to me. It was hard to find one that had the kind of toppings that I enjoy, but they sure as hell get the crust right here. Nice and thin, not floppy, but not stiff as cardboard either. We had a nice meal and of course the company was excellent. Even Timo behaved… sort of.
We stopped at a large store to buy some scissors because Timo needed his hair cut. For reasons unknown to me, he entrusted this task to Henrik, who was laughing so hard he could not cut a straight line. I took over and finished the job properly, with a total of about 5 inches removed from his four-foot-long tresses.
The rest of the evening was relatively unremarkable; a bit of drinking, joking around, movies, deep conversations, and Timo composing music for the next CD already. I did get a bit of revenge on Darth Farter… Jocke cries now to know that girls can fart too.
Sweden 2010, Day 13
I woke up to the sounds of deep breathing and light snoring. I lay in my bunk wide awake, loath to get up, knowing my stirring might wake them. I decided to risk it, grabbed my computer, and blogged Day 12.
Once that was done, and I had made myself coffee and breakfast, they still had not got up, so I went back to sleep myself. We all got up again around 11 and started our day.
Our gig tonight is in Uppsala, a small city 50 km north of our current location. We had to report for sound check at 15.30, so we left at 14.00 just to be safe. The town itself is incredibly charming. A lovely blend of old and new, populated by students and academics. There is a huge old cathedral there which dominates the skyline, though we do not have time today to visit it.
We walked into the Grand theatre for sound check, and I stopped COLD… the room was huge, the stage was huge, and I got so excited that this was where we were gonna play!!! Until I heard the words… “You guys are playing upstairs.” ARGH. So I have a huge-stage ego with a small-stage reality. Double ARGH.
We trudged upstairs to find a very cute lounge, with foosball, a pool table, and retro music-themed décor, complete with an old-style soda fountain bar. In short, a hangout for TEENS. Great. The stage was tiny, but the gear looked completely adequate, and the staff was friendly. And very young.
We completed our sound check and decided that now was the time to make a liquor run. In the bigger towns, the selection at the System Bolaget is much better. I figured we would buy a few beers, maybe a bottle of whiskey. HA! I keep forgetting, these are twenty-something guys. Our total haul was about 50 cans of beer, and bottles of bourbon, rum, scotch, and Drambuie (mine, so I could make a Rusty Nail). We threw it all in the car and went back to the venue to eat.
When we walked back in, the crowd had already started to gather. Young, tall, androgynous, almost elfin in their features, were many of these boys and girls. They looked at us like we were aliens. Even my 22 year old guitarist felt old. We were clearly in the wrong venue for our style of music, but hell, we are in this for fun too, so we made the best of it. I did not even bother putting on my full stage regalia; at this place it would have gone completely unappreciated.
Because the room was so small, the guys had to use their amps, which were solid state not tubes. Makes it easier to control the volume. Know what this means? TONIGHT I ACTUALLY GOT TO HEAR MYSELF! Sure enough when we broke into the first set, the stage volumes were absolutely perfect, except the sound man had about twice as much delay coming through the monitors as I would have liked. A little is fine; a lot is distracting. Nonetheless, I gave one hell of a vocal performance because I could actually hear what the hell I was doing. Even the boys were blown away.
As for the crowd… well, they seemed to like it, kind of like you enjoy watching the antics of old people… they tolerated it, respected it, and even clapped and cheered between songs. But it felt like we were teachers and they were students. They did not know quite what to make of us. Weird.
The next band held all the answers. They were a bunch of teenage boys, not very good, but had great passion and stage presence. Moshing commenced with their dual-frontmen growls and screams. They had asked to borrow our cymbals, so we stuck around for their short 20-minute set. When they were done playing, the place emptied out like the school dismissal bell had just rung. I think we will not seek a show there again. It was a fun experience, but not a step in the right direction of where we want to go. It was an entertaining detour, nothing more. Next time, we will be playing the main stage, opening for a large name act.
After the gig, the party commenced. There is no open container law here, so anyone in the car can drink except the driver. The pop and hiss of opening beer cans punctuated the music and laughter. Tobias was driving so he abstained, and had to concentrate on driving the tiny roads in fog.
I have debated about what to include in this next portion of the blog. Let’s just say… mass quantities of alcohol were consumed, silly things were done, stupid things were said, and all of it was in good clean fun. What happens on the road, stays on the road. I have no wish to embarrass my bandmates by publishing the specifics of their antics, but I can assure those of you reading in Sweden and the US, we are all alive with livers and morals intact. Mostly. A word of warning: no matter where you are in the world, drinking alcohol and discussing politics on the eve of a national election is a bad idea.
I had had enough by around 2.00 and went to bed. The others apparently partied and argued and laughed until the sun came up. I did not even hear it when they came to bed.
Once that was done, and I had made myself coffee and breakfast, they still had not got up, so I went back to sleep myself. We all got up again around 11 and started our day.
Our gig tonight is in Uppsala, a small city 50 km north of our current location. We had to report for sound check at 15.30, so we left at 14.00 just to be safe. The town itself is incredibly charming. A lovely blend of old and new, populated by students and academics. There is a huge old cathedral there which dominates the skyline, though we do not have time today to visit it.
We walked into the Grand theatre for sound check, and I stopped COLD… the room was huge, the stage was huge, and I got so excited that this was where we were gonna play!!! Until I heard the words… “You guys are playing upstairs.” ARGH. So I have a huge-stage ego with a small-stage reality. Double ARGH.
We trudged upstairs to find a very cute lounge, with foosball, a pool table, and retro music-themed décor, complete with an old-style soda fountain bar. In short, a hangout for TEENS. Great. The stage was tiny, but the gear looked completely adequate, and the staff was friendly. And very young.
We completed our sound check and decided that now was the time to make a liquor run. In the bigger towns, the selection at the System Bolaget is much better. I figured we would buy a few beers, maybe a bottle of whiskey. HA! I keep forgetting, these are twenty-something guys. Our total haul was about 50 cans of beer, and bottles of bourbon, rum, scotch, and Drambuie (mine, so I could make a Rusty Nail). We threw it all in the car and went back to the venue to eat.
When we walked back in, the crowd had already started to gather. Young, tall, androgynous, almost elfin in their features, were many of these boys and girls. They looked at us like we were aliens. Even my 22 year old guitarist felt old. We were clearly in the wrong venue for our style of music, but hell, we are in this for fun too, so we made the best of it. I did not even bother putting on my full stage regalia; at this place it would have gone completely unappreciated.
Because the room was so small, the guys had to use their amps, which were solid state not tubes. Makes it easier to control the volume. Know what this means? TONIGHT I ACTUALLY GOT TO HEAR MYSELF! Sure enough when we broke into the first set, the stage volumes were absolutely perfect, except the sound man had about twice as much delay coming through the monitors as I would have liked. A little is fine; a lot is distracting. Nonetheless, I gave one hell of a vocal performance because I could actually hear what the hell I was doing. Even the boys were blown away.
As for the crowd… well, they seemed to like it, kind of like you enjoy watching the antics of old people… they tolerated it, respected it, and even clapped and cheered between songs. But it felt like we were teachers and they were students. They did not know quite what to make of us. Weird.
The next band held all the answers. They were a bunch of teenage boys, not very good, but had great passion and stage presence. Moshing commenced with their dual-frontmen growls and screams. They had asked to borrow our cymbals, so we stuck around for their short 20-minute set. When they were done playing, the place emptied out like the school dismissal bell had just rung. I think we will not seek a show there again. It was a fun experience, but not a step in the right direction of where we want to go. It was an entertaining detour, nothing more. Next time, we will be playing the main stage, opening for a large name act.
After the gig, the party commenced. There is no open container law here, so anyone in the car can drink except the driver. The pop and hiss of opening beer cans punctuated the music and laughter. Tobias was driving so he abstained, and had to concentrate on driving the tiny roads in fog.
I have debated about what to include in this next portion of the blog. Let’s just say… mass quantities of alcohol were consumed, silly things were done, stupid things were said, and all of it was in good clean fun. What happens on the road, stays on the road. I have no wish to embarrass my bandmates by publishing the specifics of their antics, but I can assure those of you reading in Sweden and the US, we are all alive with livers and morals intact. Mostly. A word of warning: no matter where you are in the world, drinking alcohol and discussing politics on the eve of a national election is a bad idea.
I had had enough by around 2.00 and went to bed. The others apparently partied and argued and laughed until the sun came up. I did not even hear it when they came to bed.
Sweden 2010, Day 12
I slept in. Awesome! I was awake around 8.30, but the boys were still sleeping so I got up, had a shower, and went to the common room at the hostel to write my blog. Would have killed for a cup of coffee.
It was a bit chilly, but I am getting used to that. I wrote for a bit, then checked back in with the boys… Timo was awake, but the other four were still sawing wood like lumberjacks in their bunks. That was fine… check-out time was not until noon, and we have the day off today! All we have to do is drive to Stockholm, our home base for the next few nights.
At 10.30 I figured I had better drag their skinny little asses out of bed, so I started banging on their door. After a few muffled curses, more snoring, and very loud fart, they finally emerged from their room, half naked and yawning like Viking zombies. Jocke is the only one who wakes up actually awake. The rest of them take awhile for their neurons to start firing, and they can be quite funny to behold until then. Tobias is a bit cross-eyed and can’t speak English until he splashes water on his face, and Henrik just sort of stares vacantly into space, slack-jawed, wondering what that big light in the sky is.
In record time, we had the van packed, with the help of my unparalleled spatial skills. Once again we hit the road, van groaning and squealing. After stopping for gas, food and my blessed coffee, we were on our way to Stockholm.
These guys are a riot to travel with. We listen to music, play Trivial Pursuit on the iPhone, and the boys will hook up the computer and play very old Nintendo games, the kind with the 3rd grade graphics and horrible arcade music. I amused myself by picking strategic times to block the monitor so they could not see. Ha!!
Since we had the day off and could afford a more leisurely pace, we decided to do a bit of sightseeing. In Vadstena, on the shore of Lake Vättern, is the oldest monastery in Sweden. It was founded by a truly remarkable woman who is now called Saint Birgitta. As I write this, I do not have internet access, but those of you who read this once it is uploaded should google her, and maybe post a Wiki link for me? She was fascinating and did great works, especially for a woman born into the very male-dominated 14th century. Roby, I purchased a little book for you about her… she reminds me a bit of you somehow.
The old monastery itself has crumbled, but much of the foundation and some of the walls remain. I was especially impressed by the ruins of the brewhouse, where nuns brewed beer, and everyone had a daily ration of 2.6 litres of it. Peter, I think Alesmith should brew a beer in her honor!!
The church which stands there today is incredibly beautiful. I am always awed when in the presence of Man’s houses for the Divine, regardless of religion. As a Religious Scientist I do not believe that any one faith is the ONE faith, but I revere and respect the influence that one man and ascended Master, Jesus the Christ, has had on our culture, architecture, art, literature, and our very way of life and thinking. This demands respect which I freely give. I paid five crowns and lit a candle in thanks for the works of Jesus and his faithful and tenacious servant, Saint Birgitta.
It was raining as we continued our journey to Stockholm. Tobias called the camping place where we stay each year for our Stockholm-area shows, and was delighted to discover that the proprietor remembered us, and in fact had missed us! She had given up hope that we would be back this year and was thrilled to set aside a cabin for us.
One treat on the car ride was listening to Göran Nyström’s new band, Twinspirits. Their CD is entitled “The Forbidden City” and is comprised of 10 outstanding songs. If I had to label them, I would call them modern progressive metal. The writing, arranging, playing, and production are all top-notch, and Göran, who has been one of my all-time favorite singers since I first heard him three years ago, gives the most brilliant vocal performance imaginable. Incredible tone, range, versatility, passion, and connection to the lyrics are the gifts he brings to this CD, and rumor has it, the next one will be even more mind-blowing. Göran came to see us off in Hammerdal before we left, and put the CD in my hands personally. I now feel like the man and friend I hugged and thanked is soon to be metal’s next vocal icon.
We stopped at McD’s for a late lunch/early dinner. Folks, I don’t eat there even at home, but thought what the hell, how bad can it be? Well for one, they smother everything here in this horrible nasty sauce that tastes, to me, like a combination of baby vomit and ball sweat. They looked at me really strangely when I asked for my Big and Tasty with lite sauce, and please add some mustard. The food was enough to remind me of why I don’t eat at this establishment when given a choice. When I had choked down as much as I could without grossing myself out, I gave the rest of my sandwich and fries to Tobias, who can and does eat anything and everything.
Near our campsite we stopped for gas and groceries, and arrived just after dark to our cabin. It has a tiny kitchen with a fridge, stove, and microwave, but no running water. There is a toilet and shower house maybe 30 paces from the cabin. Two small alcoves with bunk beds, and a bunk bed in the small living room, ensure that 6 can sleep comfortably. Henrik snores the least so he is usually my bunk mate. We settled in and watched a few episodes of South Park, then I hit the sack. Hard bed. Cramped. Noisy. Earbuds in, Thundering Rainstorm on the Sansa, and I drifted off with a smile.
It was a bit chilly, but I am getting used to that. I wrote for a bit, then checked back in with the boys… Timo was awake, but the other four were still sawing wood like lumberjacks in their bunks. That was fine… check-out time was not until noon, and we have the day off today! All we have to do is drive to Stockholm, our home base for the next few nights.
At 10.30 I figured I had better drag their skinny little asses out of bed, so I started banging on their door. After a few muffled curses, more snoring, and very loud fart, they finally emerged from their room, half naked and yawning like Viking zombies. Jocke is the only one who wakes up actually awake. The rest of them take awhile for their neurons to start firing, and they can be quite funny to behold until then. Tobias is a bit cross-eyed and can’t speak English until he splashes water on his face, and Henrik just sort of stares vacantly into space, slack-jawed, wondering what that big light in the sky is.
In record time, we had the van packed, with the help of my unparalleled spatial skills. Once again we hit the road, van groaning and squealing. After stopping for gas, food and my blessed coffee, we were on our way to Stockholm.
These guys are a riot to travel with. We listen to music, play Trivial Pursuit on the iPhone, and the boys will hook up the computer and play very old Nintendo games, the kind with the 3rd grade graphics and horrible arcade music. I amused myself by picking strategic times to block the monitor so they could not see. Ha!!
Since we had the day off and could afford a more leisurely pace, we decided to do a bit of sightseeing. In Vadstena, on the shore of Lake Vättern, is the oldest monastery in Sweden. It was founded by a truly remarkable woman who is now called Saint Birgitta. As I write this, I do not have internet access, but those of you who read this once it is uploaded should google her, and maybe post a Wiki link for me? She was fascinating and did great works, especially for a woman born into the very male-dominated 14th century. Roby, I purchased a little book for you about her… she reminds me a bit of you somehow.
The old monastery itself has crumbled, but much of the foundation and some of the walls remain. I was especially impressed by the ruins of the brewhouse, where nuns brewed beer, and everyone had a daily ration of 2.6 litres of it. Peter, I think Alesmith should brew a beer in her honor!!
The church which stands there today is incredibly beautiful. I am always awed when in the presence of Man’s houses for the Divine, regardless of religion. As a Religious Scientist I do not believe that any one faith is the ONE faith, but I revere and respect the influence that one man and ascended Master, Jesus the Christ, has had on our culture, architecture, art, literature, and our very way of life and thinking. This demands respect which I freely give. I paid five crowns and lit a candle in thanks for the works of Jesus and his faithful and tenacious servant, Saint Birgitta.
It was raining as we continued our journey to Stockholm. Tobias called the camping place where we stay each year for our Stockholm-area shows, and was delighted to discover that the proprietor remembered us, and in fact had missed us! She had given up hope that we would be back this year and was thrilled to set aside a cabin for us.
One treat on the car ride was listening to Göran Nyström’s new band, Twinspirits. Their CD is entitled “The Forbidden City” and is comprised of 10 outstanding songs. If I had to label them, I would call them modern progressive metal. The writing, arranging, playing, and production are all top-notch, and Göran, who has been one of my all-time favorite singers since I first heard him three years ago, gives the most brilliant vocal performance imaginable. Incredible tone, range, versatility, passion, and connection to the lyrics are the gifts he brings to this CD, and rumor has it, the next one will be even more mind-blowing. Göran came to see us off in Hammerdal before we left, and put the CD in my hands personally. I now feel like the man and friend I hugged and thanked is soon to be metal’s next vocal icon.
We stopped at McD’s for a late lunch/early dinner. Folks, I don’t eat there even at home, but thought what the hell, how bad can it be? Well for one, they smother everything here in this horrible nasty sauce that tastes, to me, like a combination of baby vomit and ball sweat. They looked at me really strangely when I asked for my Big and Tasty with lite sauce, and please add some mustard. The food was enough to remind me of why I don’t eat at this establishment when given a choice. When I had choked down as much as I could without grossing myself out, I gave the rest of my sandwich and fries to Tobias, who can and does eat anything and everything.
Near our campsite we stopped for gas and groceries, and arrived just after dark to our cabin. It has a tiny kitchen with a fridge, stove, and microwave, but no running water. There is a toilet and shower house maybe 30 paces from the cabin. Two small alcoves with bunk beds, and a bunk bed in the small living room, ensure that 6 can sleep comfortably. Henrik snores the least so he is usually my bunk mate. We settled in and watched a few episodes of South Park, then I hit the sack. Hard bed. Cramped. Noisy. Earbuds in, Thundering Rainstorm on the Sansa, and I drifted off with a smile.
Sweden 2010, Day 11
Wow… 6.30 came quickly. I was the first one up, being careful not to wake the boys as I tiptoed out to the shower house at the campground. It was cold, quiet, and a light veil of fog tickled the landscape. It made me wish that mornings at home were like this… it might actually inspire me to wake daily with the dawn if I had this kind of peace and natural beauty to greet me.
The boys woke up when I got back, and we were packed up and on the road by 8.00. It should take us 9 hours including stops to reach Ljungy. However, the van is leaking oil, power steering fluid, transmission fluid, and apparently blood as well, if the way it screams is any indication. We drove for miles one road that was being torn up and rebuilt, and I fear we broke a shock. Oh well. It’s running… for now.
Everywhere you look in Sweden, especially as you get farther south, there are lakes. Big ones. Early in the morning we passed a few that had beautiful little houses on the shore, with little docks with little boats. It almost made me want to lead a little life here. The whole lifestyle here is appealing. Sure, they have their problems and complaints like anywhere else in the world, but it is regardless a beautiful culture and country.
I apologize if I do not get too far into the details of the drive… it was kind of numbing, truthfully. We passed a lot of little towns, a few larger ones, a couple of big cities, and so much beauty that my heart began to ache. The boys were very entertaining. My butt fell asleep from sitting for so long. I drank a lot of coffee and suffered a full bladder in silence so we would not have to make excessive stops. We were due in Ljungby for our sound check at 17.00, but could not get there until 17.45. No worries… they were not even ready for us, and they knew we would be late.
One complaint only about this tour, and in fact, about some shows I play at home… guys, TURN THE FUCK DOWN. The monitors can only get so loud before they feed back, or turn to mush, and either way, I can’t fucking hear myself. In fact, once the overpressure on the eardrums reaches a certain point, the brain can no longer distinguish pitch from noise. As a singer, I need to hear pitches, both yours and mine. Rocking more decibels than a jet engine does not make you cool… it makes you deaf. Part of the work of being a long-term professional musician is keeping your stage volume reasonable so we can all perform to the best of our ability, and letting the FOH boost the volume to earsplitting levels for the crazy fans that don’t do this day in day out like we do.
After sound check, we returned to the hostel where we are staying and got ready for the show. The stage tonight is HUGE! The venue itself is massively cool, and populated by teens and twenty-somethings. God did I feel old. I think this might be the ONLY thing to do in this town. We were the third of 5 bands. The crowd was not large, but they were eager and loud and supportive. We only had a 25-minute set for technical reasons, but the 5 songs we played definitely got us a few more avid fans. They loved us!! Everyone complimented us on our songs, our sound, our stage show, and how professional we were compared to most of the acts that blow through town. To the last person, they were also stunned by my voice, which of course makes me feel good.
After the show we got a couple of beers and headed back to the hostel. We were pretty wiped out with adrenaline hangovers and the long drive, so once again we hit the sack early. At least Sunday we do not have to leave at oh-dark-thirty, and we have the night off. We are headed to Stockholm and I think our next show is close to there.
Miss you all!
The boys woke up when I got back, and we were packed up and on the road by 8.00. It should take us 9 hours including stops to reach Ljungy. However, the van is leaking oil, power steering fluid, transmission fluid, and apparently blood as well, if the way it screams is any indication. We drove for miles one road that was being torn up and rebuilt, and I fear we broke a shock. Oh well. It’s running… for now.
Everywhere you look in Sweden, especially as you get farther south, there are lakes. Big ones. Early in the morning we passed a few that had beautiful little houses on the shore, with little docks with little boats. It almost made me want to lead a little life here. The whole lifestyle here is appealing. Sure, they have their problems and complaints like anywhere else in the world, but it is regardless a beautiful culture and country.
I apologize if I do not get too far into the details of the drive… it was kind of numbing, truthfully. We passed a lot of little towns, a few larger ones, a couple of big cities, and so much beauty that my heart began to ache. The boys were very entertaining. My butt fell asleep from sitting for so long. I drank a lot of coffee and suffered a full bladder in silence so we would not have to make excessive stops. We were due in Ljungby for our sound check at 17.00, but could not get there until 17.45. No worries… they were not even ready for us, and they knew we would be late.
One complaint only about this tour, and in fact, about some shows I play at home… guys, TURN THE FUCK DOWN. The monitors can only get so loud before they feed back, or turn to mush, and either way, I can’t fucking hear myself. In fact, once the overpressure on the eardrums reaches a certain point, the brain can no longer distinguish pitch from noise. As a singer, I need to hear pitches, both yours and mine. Rocking more decibels than a jet engine does not make you cool… it makes you deaf. Part of the work of being a long-term professional musician is keeping your stage volume reasonable so we can all perform to the best of our ability, and letting the FOH boost the volume to earsplitting levels for the crazy fans that don’t do this day in day out like we do.
After sound check, we returned to the hostel where we are staying and got ready for the show. The stage tonight is HUGE! The venue itself is massively cool, and populated by teens and twenty-somethings. God did I feel old. I think this might be the ONLY thing to do in this town. We were the third of 5 bands. The crowd was not large, but they were eager and loud and supportive. We only had a 25-minute set for technical reasons, but the 5 songs we played definitely got us a few more avid fans. They loved us!! Everyone complimented us on our songs, our sound, our stage show, and how professional we were compared to most of the acts that blow through town. To the last person, they were also stunned by my voice, which of course makes me feel good.
After the show we got a couple of beers and headed back to the hostel. We were pretty wiped out with adrenaline hangovers and the long drive, so once again we hit the sack early. At least Sunday we do not have to leave at oh-dark-thirty, and we have the night off. We are headed to Stockholm and I think our next show is close to there.
Miss you all!
Sweden 2010, Day 10
Diiiing-doooong the doorbell rings at the house in Strömsund. It is Timo’s grandfather, telling me that breakfast is almost ready if I want some. I have just crawled out of bed after a great night of sleep, but weird dreams. I dreamed that for some reason, I was kidnapped, drugged and put on a plane from Stockholm to Atlanta, and I was desperate to get back! No one would believe my story about someone sabotaging my tour with the band. I was crying and pleading with the SAS counter, and the woman was a real bitch. She would not sell me a coach ticket for that afternoon for less than $8000, and she was being very mean about it. I was so worried my band would think I ditched them, left them in the middle of the night because I hated them, and I could not stand that thought. They’re my boys!!! Finally a policeman stepped up and I told him the story. He made a call on his walkie and the next thing you know, I was on a plane to Stockholm, first class, courtesy of SAS, and the woman at the ticket counter was arrested. Weird.
I dragged myself out for breakfast and after a couple of cups of coffee felt a bit human again. It took awhile to shake off the dream. I blogged, checked emails, and went for my walk. I got all my stuff together and packed, for today we hit the road!! This evening (Friday) we are leaving for a little campground near Hudiksvall, a five hour drive. Our next gig is far in the south of Sweden on Saturday night at a town called Ljungby.
I said a tearful goodbye to my hosts when Mikaela, Joey’s fiancée, picked me up around 16.00. She is a darling little woman, gorgeous, smart, and is training to be a technician for working on wind turbines. She was also featured on the Lapis Lazuli album art as the “ghost girl.”
We drove over to the venue from the night before and got everything packed up to take back to the rehearsal space in Hammerdal. Since the venues on our tour already have a full backline of gear, the boys are only taking guitars, amp heads, stands, cymbals, and keyboards. This means we do not have to haul a trailer, though the tour van is overstuffed to the point of concern. We have a container bolted to the roof which holds a surprising amount of gear, and the rest we shoved behind the third row of seats.
Timo’s mom had us over for dinner before we left… Taco Night! The Swedes do not really do Mexican food as we know it; their way is different, but quite tasty. It consisted of shells, tortillas, ground beef, corn, cucumber, tomato, cheese, crème fraiche, and a tomato salsa. I dragged out my bottle of Tabasco Chipotle that I brought from home, and had a delicious meal in excellent company! Timo’s step-father is an avid scotch collector, and he insisted that I try one of his favorites, though I did not catch the name. It was awesome. He also gave me a cigar for later, since at least one night on the road, the band will BBQ, get plastered, do stupid shit, smoke cigars, and knowing them, perhaps run around naked, howling at passing cars. Maybe Nyman will give himself another home-made tattoo.
We had planned on leaving by 17.00, but ended up hitting the road around 21.00. We listened to music, and the guys sang me a song about a taxi driver in Calcutta that had me laughing so hard I almost spotted. 5 long hours later, we arrived at the tiny camping cabin and went right to sleep. Yeah…. They snore. All of them. Contented and tired, I set Thundering Rainstorm on repeat mode on my Sansa, put in my earbuds, and drifted off.
I dragged myself out for breakfast and after a couple of cups of coffee felt a bit human again. It took awhile to shake off the dream. I blogged, checked emails, and went for my walk. I got all my stuff together and packed, for today we hit the road!! This evening (Friday) we are leaving for a little campground near Hudiksvall, a five hour drive. Our next gig is far in the south of Sweden on Saturday night at a town called Ljungby.
I said a tearful goodbye to my hosts when Mikaela, Joey’s fiancée, picked me up around 16.00. She is a darling little woman, gorgeous, smart, and is training to be a technician for working on wind turbines. She was also featured on the Lapis Lazuli album art as the “ghost girl.”
We drove over to the venue from the night before and got everything packed up to take back to the rehearsal space in Hammerdal. Since the venues on our tour already have a full backline of gear, the boys are only taking guitars, amp heads, stands, cymbals, and keyboards. This means we do not have to haul a trailer, though the tour van is overstuffed to the point of concern. We have a container bolted to the roof which holds a surprising amount of gear, and the rest we shoved behind the third row of seats.
Timo’s mom had us over for dinner before we left… Taco Night! The Swedes do not really do Mexican food as we know it; their way is different, but quite tasty. It consisted of shells, tortillas, ground beef, corn, cucumber, tomato, cheese, crème fraiche, and a tomato salsa. I dragged out my bottle of Tabasco Chipotle that I brought from home, and had a delicious meal in excellent company! Timo’s step-father is an avid scotch collector, and he insisted that I try one of his favorites, though I did not catch the name. It was awesome. He also gave me a cigar for later, since at least one night on the road, the band will BBQ, get plastered, do stupid shit, smoke cigars, and knowing them, perhaps run around naked, howling at passing cars. Maybe Nyman will give himself another home-made tattoo.
We had planned on leaving by 17.00, but ended up hitting the road around 21.00. We listened to music, and the guys sang me a song about a taxi driver in Calcutta that had me laughing so hard I almost spotted. 5 long hours later, we arrived at the tiny camping cabin and went right to sleep. Yeah…. They snore. All of them. Contented and tired, I set Thundering Rainstorm on repeat mode on my Sansa, put in my earbuds, and drifted off.
Sweden 2010, Day 9
I woke up at 4.30 to a cat yowling, scratching at my door. At first I thought it was a dream, but no… the little black cat where I am staying wanted to come in and hang out with me. The gray tabby was chilling in the living room. Weird, these cats are almost twins of my cats at home. Having a hard time understanding them though; after all, they meow in Swedish.
I read, blogged, and went back to bed, getting up for real at 9 and joining my hosts for breakfast and coffee. I felt the need to exercise and get some fresh air, so I pulled on my Sketchers and about 4 layers of clothing and headed off down the road.
Central Sweden is all about forest. Evergreens dominate but other trees lean away from the wind and sway to its tune, dropping leaves on the ground now. Very quickly into my walk, the road became a gravel track and then a dirt path, where obviously only the occasional car would brave the mud. Even the though weather is starting to turn, bright flowers dotted the edges of the path where the sun would peek through the trees. The quiet was almost eerie... only the sound of wind, the occasional small animal scurrying into the wood, and my own heartbeat. Heaven, at the same latitude as Fairbanks Alaska. I only turned back when the path began to disappear into tall grass and the trees to crowd in closer. I could have gone on if I had had the right shoes. Sweden is blessed to have no dangerous predators or poisonous animals. Even the bears and wolves are, like the Swedes themselves, reserved and shy, avoiding contact when possible.
I had a very easy day, resting, preparing for the kickoff show of the tour. My hosts, Timo’s grandparents, are two of the most adorable people I have ever met. In November they will celebrate 50 years of marriage, and they are still a very feisty and loving pair. I envy that kind of love, and hope I will someday grow into something like that myself. Just a matter of letting go, and letting love happen. Maybe I am wound up too tightly for it, but damn it, I want it too!
Ugh. See what happens when I have too much time to reflect? Lol.
In any case, their English is rudimentary, and my Swedish is appalling, but we nonetheless manage to communicate quite effectively. Two years of high school German helps a bit, as much of the vocabulary is Germanic, but the vowels are elongated and exaggerated. I am understanding more with each passing day, and believe that if I were to sit in front of a television here for a month, listening to Swedish news with English subtitles, I would be fluent in no time.
In the afternoon, they drove me to the venue where we are holding our first show and CD release party. I helped set up, had a sound check, and then Henrik the bass player took me out to dinner. We ran into one of his older work colleagues who of course invited us to join him, then promised to come to the show later. I think he kind of liked me.
Surveying my reflection after getting dressed for the show, I have to say, I can’t decide if I looked ridiculous or hot, lol! But the boys in the band seemed to like it. I had to borrow a belt from Cici to attach the wireless pack for my in-ear monitors, and she said I could keep it for the whole tour in case I needed it again. Awesome! Cici’s band, Ace of Dice, opened the show for us. They are a classic rock coverband and this was their first show. She was very nervous, but I thought they did a great job.
Then it was our turn to play. I wish I could say I was nervous, but I was simply excited and happy to play to a big crowd. It started out a bit rough; the mix on stage was pretty horrendous and my in-ear monitors kept cutting in and out, but after a few songs we fell into a great groove and rocked the house!! We had demands for an encore at the end of our set, so we obliged. When we were finished, we sold a lot of CDs and enjoyed many compliments. The CD is actually a limited edition of rough demo mixes, since our engineer did not have time to complete the final mixes. The people who paid full price for the demo mixes, 150 kronor, will get the real CD for free when it is ready sometime in October or November. My American fans will not be able to buy this demo version; it was only a short-run burn for the tour, but may purchase the full version at several different online retailers, or from me directly at one of my shows, once it is released.
Being that it was a weeknight, we were done and out of the venue by 22.00. A couple of people in the band had to work Friday, so we did not hang out and celebrate afterwards. We all opted for a good night of sleep to prepare for a long day tomorrow.
So Friday we will actually hit the road, once Henrik gets off work around 5. We have to drive to a gig in Ljungby for Saturday night, about 14 hours. We plan to drive for a few hours Friday, overnight somewhere, and pick it up Saturday early in the day, so we only have to drive maybe 8 hours on the day of the show. Wish us luck… the tour van is in pretty sad shape and may break down. Again. Catch you as I can!
I read, blogged, and went back to bed, getting up for real at 9 and joining my hosts for breakfast and coffee. I felt the need to exercise and get some fresh air, so I pulled on my Sketchers and about 4 layers of clothing and headed off down the road.
Central Sweden is all about forest. Evergreens dominate but other trees lean away from the wind and sway to its tune, dropping leaves on the ground now. Very quickly into my walk, the road became a gravel track and then a dirt path, where obviously only the occasional car would brave the mud. Even the though weather is starting to turn, bright flowers dotted the edges of the path where the sun would peek through the trees. The quiet was almost eerie... only the sound of wind, the occasional small animal scurrying into the wood, and my own heartbeat. Heaven, at the same latitude as Fairbanks Alaska. I only turned back when the path began to disappear into tall grass and the trees to crowd in closer. I could have gone on if I had had the right shoes. Sweden is blessed to have no dangerous predators or poisonous animals. Even the bears and wolves are, like the Swedes themselves, reserved and shy, avoiding contact when possible.
I had a very easy day, resting, preparing for the kickoff show of the tour. My hosts, Timo’s grandparents, are two of the most adorable people I have ever met. In November they will celebrate 50 years of marriage, and they are still a very feisty and loving pair. I envy that kind of love, and hope I will someday grow into something like that myself. Just a matter of letting go, and letting love happen. Maybe I am wound up too tightly for it, but damn it, I want it too!
Ugh. See what happens when I have too much time to reflect? Lol.
In any case, their English is rudimentary, and my Swedish is appalling, but we nonetheless manage to communicate quite effectively. Two years of high school German helps a bit, as much of the vocabulary is Germanic, but the vowels are elongated and exaggerated. I am understanding more with each passing day, and believe that if I were to sit in front of a television here for a month, listening to Swedish news with English subtitles, I would be fluent in no time.
In the afternoon, they drove me to the venue where we are holding our first show and CD release party. I helped set up, had a sound check, and then Henrik the bass player took me out to dinner. We ran into one of his older work colleagues who of course invited us to join him, then promised to come to the show later. I think he kind of liked me.
Surveying my reflection after getting dressed for the show, I have to say, I can’t decide if I looked ridiculous or hot, lol! But the boys in the band seemed to like it. I had to borrow a belt from Cici to attach the wireless pack for my in-ear monitors, and she said I could keep it for the whole tour in case I needed it again. Awesome! Cici’s band, Ace of Dice, opened the show for us. They are a classic rock coverband and this was their first show. She was very nervous, but I thought they did a great job.
Then it was our turn to play. I wish I could say I was nervous, but I was simply excited and happy to play to a big crowd. It started out a bit rough; the mix on stage was pretty horrendous and my in-ear monitors kept cutting in and out, but after a few songs we fell into a great groove and rocked the house!! We had demands for an encore at the end of our set, so we obliged. When we were finished, we sold a lot of CDs and enjoyed many compliments. The CD is actually a limited edition of rough demo mixes, since our engineer did not have time to complete the final mixes. The people who paid full price for the demo mixes, 150 kronor, will get the real CD for free when it is ready sometime in October or November. My American fans will not be able to buy this demo version; it was only a short-run burn for the tour, but may purchase the full version at several different online retailers, or from me directly at one of my shows, once it is released.
Being that it was a weeknight, we were done and out of the venue by 22.00. A couple of people in the band had to work Friday, so we did not hang out and celebrate afterwards. We all opted for a good night of sleep to prepare for a long day tomorrow.
So Friday we will actually hit the road, once Henrik gets off work around 5. We have to drive to a gig in Ljungby for Saturday night, about 14 hours. We plan to drive for a few hours Friday, overnight somewhere, and pick it up Saturday early in the day, so we only have to drive maybe 8 hours on the day of the show. Wish us luck… the tour van is in pretty sad shape and may break down. Again. Catch you as I can!
Sweden 2010, Day 8
I do not enjoy flying. Have I mentioned that? I get nauseous and sweaty and have to rely on mass quantities of Dramamine or Valium. Today, as it was a bit early for a date with Prince Valium, I opted for the Dramamine. Weird… that particular drug comes not as a pill here, but in a chewing gum. It worked hard and fast and I slept or sat in a stupor for my two flights which delivered me to Östersund. My band was waiting at the little one-horse landing strip at Åre and it was like no time had passed, though it had been over a year since we last met up. Timo is a giant of a man… 6 feet 8 inches tall and pushing 300 pounds. Definitely a guy that can shield you from overzealous fans and strong gales with equal aplomb. Johan (Joey the half-kangaroo-man) had not changed a bit either except for the strange furr on his face that called a beard, but to me looked more like… well.. let’s just say I hope he shaves it soon. Not likely, as he is apparently wearing it because he lost a bet.
We grabbed my suitcase and were off. We had several hours to kill in town while waiting for a call from the company that was duping the CD. We had lunch and went to a museum which chronicled the history of the region. OMG talk about feeding my Viking fetish! I was in heaven!! In truth, it was all very fascinating. One can see how the Swedes evolved to be the culture and people they are today. The artifacts were amazing! Swords, clothing, tapestries, jewelry, bones, and items of everyday life such as furniture and cookware. I LOVED this place!!
We discovered afterwards that there was a problem with the CD duplication, so we drove on to Hammerdal where Timo lives and where the band rehearses. After a brief rest, we went to see Timo’s mom and step-dad, whom I just adore, and then to see his awesome grandparents in Strömsund. They invited me to stay where they are house-sitting for their other daughter, who is in California with her husband on vacation.
This house is AMAZING!! Typical Swedish architecture and appointments… form is minimalist, function is efficient, lines are clean and unadorned. I could live in a place like this forever… but I am only staying 2 days. The man of this house restores classic cars, and we were treated to a tour of his garage. I do not even want to go into details of what was in there, but any gearhead regardless of mfg affiliation would DROOL.
Once accommodations were settled, we headed back to Hammerdal for a rehearsal. One by one my band members trickled in… Tobias with the pretty blue eyes, Henrik and his shy but somewhat insane humor, and Jocke who is… well, just Jocke. We dove right in and ran 10 songs quickly and efficiently. But like all metal bands populated by 20-somethings… they need to TURN THE HELL DOWN so the singer can hear herself! Lol!!
Henrik drove Johan and me back to Strömsund, where I tried unsuccessfully to decipher the sheet upon which, somewhere, the network key for their internet connection lurks. Bedtime now… see you tomorrow…
We grabbed my suitcase and were off. We had several hours to kill in town while waiting for a call from the company that was duping the CD. We had lunch and went to a museum which chronicled the history of the region. OMG talk about feeding my Viking fetish! I was in heaven!! In truth, it was all very fascinating. One can see how the Swedes evolved to be the culture and people they are today. The artifacts were amazing! Swords, clothing, tapestries, jewelry, bones, and items of everyday life such as furniture and cookware. I LOVED this place!!
We discovered afterwards that there was a problem with the CD duplication, so we drove on to Hammerdal where Timo lives and where the band rehearses. After a brief rest, we went to see Timo’s mom and step-dad, whom I just adore, and then to see his awesome grandparents in Strömsund. They invited me to stay where they are house-sitting for their other daughter, who is in California with her husband on vacation.
This house is AMAZING!! Typical Swedish architecture and appointments… form is minimalist, function is efficient, lines are clean and unadorned. I could live in a place like this forever… but I am only staying 2 days. The man of this house restores classic cars, and we were treated to a tour of his garage. I do not even want to go into details of what was in there, but any gearhead regardless of mfg affiliation would DROOL.
Once accommodations were settled, we headed back to Hammerdal for a rehearsal. One by one my band members trickled in… Tobias with the pretty blue eyes, Henrik and his shy but somewhat insane humor, and Jocke who is… well, just Jocke. We dove right in and ran 10 songs quickly and efficiently. But like all metal bands populated by 20-somethings… they need to TURN THE HELL DOWN so the singer can hear herself! Lol!!
Henrik drove Johan and me back to Strömsund, where I tried unsuccessfully to decipher the sheet upon which, somewhere, the network key for their internet connection lurks. Bedtime now… see you tomorrow…
Sweden 2010, Day 7
All work is done. Mr. Black and I decided to have an outing to the suspension bridge connecting the mainland to the island of Tjörn. Back in the early 80’s, a barge hit the support of the old bridge and collapsed it, killing many people. For a while, people were cut off from the mainland and the government rushed first to provide ferry service in the interim, then to build the bridge that stands today. It is quite lovely, and there is a park with an excellent view. We spent some time there, admiring the structure, and the way it blends seamlessly with the natural environment. (I have such a weak spot for architecture and good engineering. How many of you had no clue?) We couldn’t have asked for better weather… clear, windy, the sun playing short games of hide-and-seek with the few puffy clouds.
After the park, we went to a nearby cove, sheltered from the wind and weather. The beach showed us many treasures at low tide, especially bright purple, pink, and orange starfish lying about. From the end of the pier, we saw jellyfish floating by. While their sting is painful, it is not at all deadly, just a nuisance. Either way, I was not going to brave the cold water like several children and a few adults were.
I was craving a dark beer so we went to the Bolaget to buy some, but alas, no Stone beers. WTF guys? Get your butts to Sweden already!! I didn’t see any Stone or Alesmith beers. How I am going to survive the remaining two weeks here without a Stone Smoked Porter? I settled for Sam Adams Black Lager, which did not taste fresh at all.
When we got home, we had lunch, and went for one final walk to the sea and my favorite dilapidated dock. We sat there in silence mostly, each of us reflecting on the immense amount of work we accomplished in the preceding days, and on my part, feeling a bit maudlin. Sentimental. Even a little empty. It was not unlike the feeling when a lover leaves you. Achy, somewhat stunned, and helplessly lacking direction. On the walk back, I started laughing inside… that slightly insane out-of-control laughter which is a defense mechanism for coping with the rootless unknown.
That evening, I packed, and we tried to keep the mood light by watching X-Men. It was clear by the end of the evening that while we are bound as friends and collaborators, we were both relieved to see this chapter end, and was each looking forward to the next step in our musical odyssey. I went to bed knowing that goodbyes are not painful when you know a reunion will come.
Into day 8….
Sleep? Nope, not much. Smoke alarm was malfunctioning and would beep every half hour and wake me up. Finally gave up around 4.30 and got up, had a shower, and got ready to go. Mr. Black came in at 5.30 and made us coffee. We left for the airport by 6.30 and got me checked in, had one final cup of coffee at the terminal. A hug, a goodbye, some nausea, maybe a tear, and a real swirlie of a soul-ache as I turned to walk away and he did the same.
Strangely, as I rounded the corner, POOF; gone. I almost lost my legs and started laughing that crazy laugh again. I was FREE! I was excited! Happy! Incredibly pleased with the outcome of the week with Mr. Black and salivating at the prospect of hearing the final product! All of the angst associated with this journey dissipated like a fart in the wind and all that remained was the sense of joy I knew would come. Almost scary how easily I managed to distance myself, after days of being so wrapped up I thought my Self would never be successfully extricated and resuscitated.
Focus is shifting. That ship has sailed. My next ride is a plane to Östersund by way of Stockholm, where I will meet up with my band, Lapis Lazuli. This one should prove to be wild in an entirely different way.
See you on the road!
After the park, we went to a nearby cove, sheltered from the wind and weather. The beach showed us many treasures at low tide, especially bright purple, pink, and orange starfish lying about. From the end of the pier, we saw jellyfish floating by. While their sting is painful, it is not at all deadly, just a nuisance. Either way, I was not going to brave the cold water like several children and a few adults were.
I was craving a dark beer so we went to the Bolaget to buy some, but alas, no Stone beers. WTF guys? Get your butts to Sweden already!! I didn’t see any Stone or Alesmith beers. How I am going to survive the remaining two weeks here without a Stone Smoked Porter? I settled for Sam Adams Black Lager, which did not taste fresh at all.
When we got home, we had lunch, and went for one final walk to the sea and my favorite dilapidated dock. We sat there in silence mostly, each of us reflecting on the immense amount of work we accomplished in the preceding days, and on my part, feeling a bit maudlin. Sentimental. Even a little empty. It was not unlike the feeling when a lover leaves you. Achy, somewhat stunned, and helplessly lacking direction. On the walk back, I started laughing inside… that slightly insane out-of-control laughter which is a defense mechanism for coping with the rootless unknown.
That evening, I packed, and we tried to keep the mood light by watching X-Men. It was clear by the end of the evening that while we are bound as friends and collaborators, we were both relieved to see this chapter end, and was each looking forward to the next step in our musical odyssey. I went to bed knowing that goodbyes are not painful when you know a reunion will come.
Into day 8….
Sleep? Nope, not much. Smoke alarm was malfunctioning and would beep every half hour and wake me up. Finally gave up around 4.30 and got up, had a shower, and got ready to go. Mr. Black came in at 5.30 and made us coffee. We left for the airport by 6.30 and got me checked in, had one final cup of coffee at the terminal. A hug, a goodbye, some nausea, maybe a tear, and a real swirlie of a soul-ache as I turned to walk away and he did the same.
Strangely, as I rounded the corner, POOF; gone. I almost lost my legs and started laughing that crazy laugh again. I was FREE! I was excited! Happy! Incredibly pleased with the outcome of the week with Mr. Black and salivating at the prospect of hearing the final product! All of the angst associated with this journey dissipated like a fart in the wind and all that remained was the sense of joy I knew would come. Almost scary how easily I managed to distance myself, after days of being so wrapped up I thought my Self would never be successfully extricated and resuscitated.
Focus is shifting. That ship has sailed. My next ride is a plane to Östersund by way of Stockholm, where I will meet up with my band, Lapis Lazuli. This one should prove to be wild in an entirely different way.
See you on the road!
Sweden 2010, Day 6
Video shoot! Had to pretty myself up and everything. After days of naked face it felt weird to put on make-up.
Mr. Black had to borrow a hair-dryer so I could style my hair... he had to try several neighbors before finding one who owned such an archaic device. Here everyone is beautiful with no effort. Sort of sickening, lol. When I was using it, the smoke alarm was set off by the scent of smouldering hair. Scared the crap out of me. Make up on, hair extensions clipped in and styled, wardrobe perfect, and the shoot began.
I have never worked against a green screen before. But since I did not have to react to invisible action or talk to invisible people, it was no different than any other video I have done, which is not saying much, since I have done very little. I had to lip-sync, act, and do some simple tasks revolving around the most amazing prop thing I have ever seen. I can't tell you what it is, as it is integral to the story line of the video, but I can tell you it appealed to one of my secret pleasures as a Capricorn... it was very very old. Roby, you especially would love to get your hands on this thing!
We had a schedule which detailed everything shot by shot, so it went very fast. We were lucky that we had excellent light for the exterior shots as well. It was pretty fun, and I hope I gave him everything he needs to comp together a great video. Now I have to wait along with the rest of you to see it when it is done.
After the shoot we took a very brisk walk to out favorite dock. We barely spoke, were both so exhausted, and truthfully burned out on each other after being in such intense close quarters for 6 days. Once we got back, we both worked on our seperate projects, had dinner, and he retired early to the little hut where he sleeps, asking me not to go out and wake him until at least 9AM. I am sure we will do another record together, but next time, we will take the pace much slower. Lessons learned. He and I are both die-hard loners, set in our ways and routines, and treasuring time alone. I am far more social than he is, which has made my invasion harder on him than my imposition on him has been on me.
I spent the evening preparing for my tour with Lapis Lazuli, and also watched Avatar on my PC... AGAIN.... I think I have seen it maybe 15 times now. The boys from South Park had it right... it should have been called "Dances With Smurfs." But there are element of Braveheart in there too. How such a cliche can still be such a great movie is a mystery to me... oh wait.. no it isn't. Two words: James Cameron. Haha.
So day 6 was yesterday, and today, I was up at 7.30, and got him up at 9. We will go out today, just hang out and be friends, and end this journey on a happy stress-free note. I am flying to Östersund early tomorrow to join the band. It will be hard to say goodbye to my friend and colleague here. But as Mr. Black says, it is easier to leave than be left behind. He will feel the void keenly and will rest his overtaxed mind for a bit before diving into the work again.
Once I leave for the north, I have no idea what the internet situation will be on the road. I will do my best to keep sending out daily updates, but please forgive me if circumstances prevent me from doing so on occasion. For information and tour dates/venues, go to www.lapislazuli.se.
Mr. Black had to borrow a hair-dryer so I could style my hair... he had to try several neighbors before finding one who owned such an archaic device. Here everyone is beautiful with no effort. Sort of sickening, lol. When I was using it, the smoke alarm was set off by the scent of smouldering hair. Scared the crap out of me. Make up on, hair extensions clipped in and styled, wardrobe perfect, and the shoot began.
I have never worked against a green screen before. But since I did not have to react to invisible action or talk to invisible people, it was no different than any other video I have done, which is not saying much, since I have done very little. I had to lip-sync, act, and do some simple tasks revolving around the most amazing prop thing I have ever seen. I can't tell you what it is, as it is integral to the story line of the video, but I can tell you it appealed to one of my secret pleasures as a Capricorn... it was very very old. Roby, you especially would love to get your hands on this thing!
We had a schedule which detailed everything shot by shot, so it went very fast. We were lucky that we had excellent light for the exterior shots as well. It was pretty fun, and I hope I gave him everything he needs to comp together a great video. Now I have to wait along with the rest of you to see it when it is done.
After the shoot we took a very brisk walk to out favorite dock. We barely spoke, were both so exhausted, and truthfully burned out on each other after being in such intense close quarters for 6 days. Once we got back, we both worked on our seperate projects, had dinner, and he retired early to the little hut where he sleeps, asking me not to go out and wake him until at least 9AM. I am sure we will do another record together, but next time, we will take the pace much slower. Lessons learned. He and I are both die-hard loners, set in our ways and routines, and treasuring time alone. I am far more social than he is, which has made my invasion harder on him than my imposition on him has been on me.
I spent the evening preparing for my tour with Lapis Lazuli, and also watched Avatar on my PC... AGAIN.... I think I have seen it maybe 15 times now. The boys from South Park had it right... it should have been called "Dances With Smurfs." But there are element of Braveheart in there too. How such a cliche can still be such a great movie is a mystery to me... oh wait.. no it isn't. Two words: James Cameron. Haha.
So day 6 was yesterday, and today, I was up at 7.30, and got him up at 9. We will go out today, just hang out and be friends, and end this journey on a happy stress-free note. I am flying to Östersund early tomorrow to join the band. It will be hard to say goodbye to my friend and colleague here. But as Mr. Black says, it is easier to leave than be left behind. He will feel the void keenly and will rest his overtaxed mind for a bit before diving into the work again.
Once I leave for the north, I have no idea what the internet situation will be on the road. I will do my best to keep sending out daily updates, but please forgive me if circumstances prevent me from doing so on occasion. For information and tour dates/venues, go to www.lapislazuli.se.
Sweden 2010, Day 5
D.O.N.E.! This day was by far the hardest studio day. The song was one I had been dreading because the subject matter breaks my heart. Thankfully it is a situation I have never had to deal with, but I know some who HAVE been there, and however they choose to react kills them a little either way. I was shaking and crying even just trying to prepare for it. I had to go through eleven years of torment, grief, acceptance, and forgiveness, in the space of about an hour, to get my head and heart in the place to deliver this song. "Mr. Black" had an incredibly hard time with this one too.
After we finished this song, we had to get out and shake it off. When we started our walk I could feel dark clouds squatting over my head, ready to piss depression on me. Eventually, right around the time we hit the cow pasture on the way to the beach, they began to lift. The weather was quite warm there, and the sea was calm and grey. Once again we took a nap on the old ramshackle dock, and when we woke up, both of us actually felt drunk. Relief? Exhaustion? We stumbled back to the studio and dove right into the final song of the record. We were both a bit irritable and antsy; we caught the scent of completion like sharks to blood and went for it with equal frenzy. Yet, somehow, when it was finished, it was a bit anti-climactic. Like, yeah; we're done. Want lunch? As the rest of the day progressed, it began to truly sink in, the scope of what we have accomplished in such a short time.
"Mr. Black" is adamant that no whisper of these songs hits public ears until they are mixed, mastered, and ready to go. So in somber ceremonial fashion, I deleted all reference to the songs, demos, and lyrics, off my hard drive and my Sansa mp3 player. It's as though they never existed. Now I must put them from my mind and wait, like everyone else. The wait should not be long... "Mr. Black" is taking much of he next few months off, with the goal of completing arrangements and mixing by the end of the year. If all goes well, we should see it released sometime in early 2011. If the rest of it turns out as well as the first single, which I recorded 3 years ago, it will be a stunning work of musical art. And while of course we would like to see it hit, if at the very least it can touch the lives of those who listen to it, we will have success.
Hot DAMN did we need to blow off some steam last night!!! We popped popcorn, drank a couple of beers, and watched a movie that started well and ended horribly. How Kieffer Sutherland can be such a great actor trapped into such a shitty movie as "Mirrors" was, I will never understand. A dereliction of directing maybe? Still, it was just spooky enough to get us out of the recording headspace.
So today, we are shooting footage for music videos. The videos will be very stylized and thematic, so I am shooting against a green screen and Mr. Black won't tell even ME what will be added into the shot later! This should be a huge surprise for me when I see it next year, right along with the rest of you. I guess lighting takes the longest, but once that is done it should go pretty fast. We'll shoot for 3 or 4 songs.
All in all, I am tired but very happy. I am also really missing my friends and family back in San Diego... special shoults out to Jackson, Yuki, June, Jeff, and my kitties, and of course my Greg. Mom and Pop in Florida too... you guys would be so proud of me!
Love to you all from Jörlanda Sweden!
After we finished this song, we had to get out and shake it off. When we started our walk I could feel dark clouds squatting over my head, ready to piss depression on me. Eventually, right around the time we hit the cow pasture on the way to the beach, they began to lift. The weather was quite warm there, and the sea was calm and grey. Once again we took a nap on the old ramshackle dock, and when we woke up, both of us actually felt drunk. Relief? Exhaustion? We stumbled back to the studio and dove right into the final song of the record. We were both a bit irritable and antsy; we caught the scent of completion like sharks to blood and went for it with equal frenzy. Yet, somehow, when it was finished, it was a bit anti-climactic. Like, yeah; we're done. Want lunch? As the rest of the day progressed, it began to truly sink in, the scope of what we have accomplished in such a short time.
"Mr. Black" is adamant that no whisper of these songs hits public ears until they are mixed, mastered, and ready to go. So in somber ceremonial fashion, I deleted all reference to the songs, demos, and lyrics, off my hard drive and my Sansa mp3 player. It's as though they never existed. Now I must put them from my mind and wait, like everyone else. The wait should not be long... "Mr. Black" is taking much of he next few months off, with the goal of completing arrangements and mixing by the end of the year. If all goes well, we should see it released sometime in early 2011. If the rest of it turns out as well as the first single, which I recorded 3 years ago, it will be a stunning work of musical art. And while of course we would like to see it hit, if at the very least it can touch the lives of those who listen to it, we will have success.
Hot DAMN did we need to blow off some steam last night!!! We popped popcorn, drank a couple of beers, and watched a movie that started well and ended horribly. How Kieffer Sutherland can be such a great actor trapped into such a shitty movie as "Mirrors" was, I will never understand. A dereliction of directing maybe? Still, it was just spooky enough to get us out of the recording headspace.
So today, we are shooting footage for music videos. The videos will be very stylized and thematic, so I am shooting against a green screen and Mr. Black won't tell even ME what will be added into the shot later! This should be a huge surprise for me when I see it next year, right along with the rest of you. I guess lighting takes the longest, but once that is done it should go pretty fast. We'll shoot for 3 or 4 songs.
All in all, I am tired but very happy. I am also really missing my friends and family back in San Diego... special shoults out to Jackson, Yuki, June, Jeff, and my kitties, and of course my Greg. Mom and Pop in Florida too... you guys would be so proud of me!
Love to you all from Jörlanda Sweden!
Sweden 2010, Day 4
Wine and sleep, contrary to popular belief, do not mix. Finally fell asleep at 23.30 and woke up at 4.00. Gonna be a long day.
The pace finally caught up with us yesterday afternoon. We did 2 extremely difficult songs, then, heads spinning with exhausted mental vertigo, went for a walk. We hung out at an old deserted dock and literally fell fast asleep. When I woke up, 30 minutes had passed and I realized I had neglected lunch. Growly tummy prodded me up, and we hit the grocery store because I was jonesing for a salad so bad I could barely stand it! What is it with bachelors and vegetables? Haha. When we got back, I totally passed out. I needed a nap.
We did manage to lighten the mood with an awesome salad and some steak and wine, and watched Clash of the Titans. Nothing like mindless brainless entertainment to numb everything. Sam Worthington eye candy is nice too. Later, when Mr. Black went to his little house to sleep, I stayed awake pondering. Bad idea.
It's amazing how exhausting this work can be. How in the hell do actors do this shit, day in, day out? Take upon themselves the emotional life of their character, breathing life into being with their skills and gifts? And how in the name of Zeus' BUTTHOLE do they let it go at the end of the day??!?!?!! (sorry, thx to Nick Cage from the Rock. Always loved that scene.) Days of being another person's voice for their pain, suffering, and redemption has drained me nearly dry. Maybe my friend Sven can shed some light on this conundrum. Is there some sort of special coping mechanism? I drank half a bottle of wine and cried for an hour last night after I went to bed. "Mr. Black's" soul has taken up residence in my body for the duration of these sessions, and where is mine now? The two have blended into one and I just hope I can extricate my own self at the end of this as painlesly as possible. Still, Like poor Dr. McCoy and Spock, I know the echo of it will always be there, and haunt me a bit. Poor Mr. Black... he is feeling is even worse than I am. This is his story, after all. The strain is evident, and thankfully he does not belittle himself or insult me by trying to hide it.
So back into the fray go I. Today will be our final recording session, two songs, one of which simply kills me emotionally to even read the lyrics. When this is over I want to run as fast as I can to the water's edge, and scream a primal wail in the direction of Denmark. Please don't misundertand me... I LOVE that I am doing this. It is the single most artistically fulfiling thing I have ever done, and the most difficult. I am grateful for every ounce of this experience. But it is changing me, and I have no idea if those changes will stay with me when I am back in my own environment again. I have no idea if I want them to stay or leave. But the unknown is such a beautiful thing.... and the most fertile ground for the human divine.
Love you guys, miss you, see you soon!
The pace finally caught up with us yesterday afternoon. We did 2 extremely difficult songs, then, heads spinning with exhausted mental vertigo, went for a walk. We hung out at an old deserted dock and literally fell fast asleep. When I woke up, 30 minutes had passed and I realized I had neglected lunch. Growly tummy prodded me up, and we hit the grocery store because I was jonesing for a salad so bad I could barely stand it! What is it with bachelors and vegetables? Haha. When we got back, I totally passed out. I needed a nap.
We did manage to lighten the mood with an awesome salad and some steak and wine, and watched Clash of the Titans. Nothing like mindless brainless entertainment to numb everything. Sam Worthington eye candy is nice too. Later, when Mr. Black went to his little house to sleep, I stayed awake pondering. Bad idea.
It's amazing how exhausting this work can be. How in the hell do actors do this shit, day in, day out? Take upon themselves the emotional life of their character, breathing life into being with their skills and gifts? And how in the name of Zeus' BUTTHOLE do they let it go at the end of the day??!?!?!! (sorry, thx to Nick Cage from the Rock. Always loved that scene.) Days of being another person's voice for their pain, suffering, and redemption has drained me nearly dry. Maybe my friend Sven can shed some light on this conundrum. Is there some sort of special coping mechanism? I drank half a bottle of wine and cried for an hour last night after I went to bed. "Mr. Black's" soul has taken up residence in my body for the duration of these sessions, and where is mine now? The two have blended into one and I just hope I can extricate my own self at the end of this as painlesly as possible. Still, Like poor Dr. McCoy and Spock, I know the echo of it will always be there, and haunt me a bit. Poor Mr. Black... he is feeling is even worse than I am. This is his story, after all. The strain is evident, and thankfully he does not belittle himself or insult me by trying to hide it.
So back into the fray go I. Today will be our final recording session, two songs, one of which simply kills me emotionally to even read the lyrics. When this is over I want to run as fast as I can to the water's edge, and scream a primal wail in the direction of Denmark. Please don't misundertand me... I LOVE that I am doing this. It is the single most artistically fulfiling thing I have ever done, and the most difficult. I am grateful for every ounce of this experience. But it is changing me, and I have no idea if those changes will stay with me when I am back in my own environment again. I have no idea if I want them to stay or leave. But the unknown is such a beautiful thing.... and the most fertile ground for the human divine.
Love you guys, miss you, see you soon!
Sweden 2010, Day 3
It is nearly 8AM here in Jörlanda. I got up about 6:15.
I have made a really silly observation: Cows in Sweden don't smell as bad as cows in America. How do I know this? Because I had a close encounter with a few on my walk yesterday. Maybe cows here are happier than cows in California because the grass here is so thick and lush and smells like health in a spiky spongy verdant package. Green stuff in September... what an odd concept to those of us who live in SoCal, where we are currently in "brown season." One thing for sure... whatever their livestock is eating is good, because the meat, milk, and eggs here are delicious!
My pop might remember that day in Snellville GA long ago, when as a young teenager I put in my first day of true hard physical labor, moving huge logs from a cut-down tree to the curb from the backyard. I remember how I felt at the end of that day; incredibly tired, drained, but energized and clear and sporting an incredible sense of accomplishment. Well, that was my day in the studio yesterday. We pounded through three songs... THREE, including a ton of backing vocals. Emotionally challenging, made my heart ache and throb. Tears were shed by myself and "Mr. Black" (as he prefers to be referred to publicly). I felt like I was the one who had been through his life, felt every piece of pain and seen every view of love. People, these songs are going to transform you. Singing them has transformed me. It's refreshing to think only of the emotional content of my performance, trusting that ingrained technique will always enable me to deliver it without thought. It's a time like this where I am thankful for the years i spent studying muic and developing and training my voice.
We had an excursion to Stenungsund to buy vitamins at the pharmacy and a bottle of wine. You know me and my wine... I miss my nectar of the gods if I go more than a few days without it. Here in Sweden, you can only buy very weak beer at the supermarkets. To get strong beer, wine, and liquor, you must go to the state-run alcohol stores called "System Bolaget." The selection is pretty much the same throughout the whole country. They had a few nice wines, including the hard-to-find Omaka Springs Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. I chose a bottle of Saintsbury Pinot Noir. It was priced comparably to the US, which surprised me. Let me tell you, we are spoiled... at home we can shop anywhere anytime for anything, but here, the liquor store is open from 10 to 6 and is closed on Sunday. Plus, there is not a single bottle of decent tequila in this country, though they do know their scotches.
We had chicken with bulgur and panang curry last night for dinner. Yum. My host in an excellent cook. After dinner, we were both way too tired for a movie, so I had a glass of wine, and "MB" and I listened through Jennifer Lindsay's 2009 release entitled "Songs in the Dark." After that, I zonked out. I sleep hard here.
So that's all for today. We are getting an early start because soon it will rain, and we can't have that on our tracks!
I have made a really silly observation: Cows in Sweden don't smell as bad as cows in America. How do I know this? Because I had a close encounter with a few on my walk yesterday. Maybe cows here are happier than cows in California because the grass here is so thick and lush and smells like health in a spiky spongy verdant package. Green stuff in September... what an odd concept to those of us who live in SoCal, where we are currently in "brown season." One thing for sure... whatever their livestock is eating is good, because the meat, milk, and eggs here are delicious!
My pop might remember that day in Snellville GA long ago, when as a young teenager I put in my first day of true hard physical labor, moving huge logs from a cut-down tree to the curb from the backyard. I remember how I felt at the end of that day; incredibly tired, drained, but energized and clear and sporting an incredible sense of accomplishment. Well, that was my day in the studio yesterday. We pounded through three songs... THREE, including a ton of backing vocals. Emotionally challenging, made my heart ache and throb. Tears were shed by myself and "Mr. Black" (as he prefers to be referred to publicly). I felt like I was the one who had been through his life, felt every piece of pain and seen every view of love. People, these songs are going to transform you. Singing them has transformed me. It's refreshing to think only of the emotional content of my performance, trusting that ingrained technique will always enable me to deliver it without thought. It's a time like this where I am thankful for the years i spent studying muic and developing and training my voice.
We had an excursion to Stenungsund to buy vitamins at the pharmacy and a bottle of wine. You know me and my wine... I miss my nectar of the gods if I go more than a few days without it. Here in Sweden, you can only buy very weak beer at the supermarkets. To get strong beer, wine, and liquor, you must go to the state-run alcohol stores called "System Bolaget." The selection is pretty much the same throughout the whole country. They had a few nice wines, including the hard-to-find Omaka Springs Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. I chose a bottle of Saintsbury Pinot Noir. It was priced comparably to the US, which surprised me. Let me tell you, we are spoiled... at home we can shop anywhere anytime for anything, but here, the liquor store is open from 10 to 6 and is closed on Sunday. Plus, there is not a single bottle of decent tequila in this country, though they do know their scotches.
We had chicken with bulgur and panang curry last night for dinner. Yum. My host in an excellent cook. After dinner, we were both way too tired for a movie, so I had a glass of wine, and "MB" and I listened through Jennifer Lindsay's 2009 release entitled "Songs in the Dark." After that, I zonked out. I sleep hard here.
So that's all for today. We are getting an early start because soon it will rain, and we can't have that on our tracks!
Sweden 2010, Days 1 & 2
It's Friday morning here in Jörlanda, 30 minutes west of Göteborg. I am totally over my jet lag, thanks to staying up a late as I could my first night, and a date with Prince Valium the first and second nights.
We had a very good first session. Most of the time we spent dialing in the settings, getting it right. Got 2 songs done. Today we will do 3, maybe 4. The material is gutwrenchingly emotional and is a true story, so "Mr. Black" spends time giving me background on the songs, where they came from. It's an incredible responsibility, being asked to BE someone's voice, to make every emotion they feel about the song come out when I sing. I have to dig pretty deep. In the end, I think a lot of people are going to be moved by this record. I have a totally different voice on this material than anything else I sing. I'm very invested in it.
My down time is spent taking long walks in the gorgeous Swedish countryside. It is so beautiful, serene, and relaxing here. It's as though the very earth itself is saying, "hey chill out, it's all good." I have to just sigh, smile, and agree. I have taken to collecting little rocks on each of my trips here, and have quite the collection of rough quartz pieces in white, peach, and rosy hues. I keep them in my backpack for luck.
"Mr. Black" (as he prefers to be referred to publicy) is good company. At night when the session is finished he cooks us dinner and we watch a movie or listen to music or just talk about how different life is in our two countries. There's a large porch with a great view and I have a beer out there in the afternoon as the shadows grow long, then come in when the air starts to cool. It gets pretty cold at night and is a bit chily even during the day. I did not pack heavy enough clothes for the north portion of my trip, I'm afraid. Maybe I'll come home a human popsicle.
So far, the experience is exactly as I have expected... profound, exciting, and wonderful. However I miss all of you a lot and wish you could be here to share it with me (esp. one of you, you know you you are).
So anyway, I have to sign off and prepare for the session and take take my walk before I sing. I'll write again tomorrow.
We had a very good first session. Most of the time we spent dialing in the settings, getting it right. Got 2 songs done. Today we will do 3, maybe 4. The material is gutwrenchingly emotional and is a true story, so "Mr. Black" spends time giving me background on the songs, where they came from. It's an incredible responsibility, being asked to BE someone's voice, to make every emotion they feel about the song come out when I sing. I have to dig pretty deep. In the end, I think a lot of people are going to be moved by this record. I have a totally different voice on this material than anything else I sing. I'm very invested in it.
My down time is spent taking long walks in the gorgeous Swedish countryside. It is so beautiful, serene, and relaxing here. It's as though the very earth itself is saying, "hey chill out, it's all good." I have to just sigh, smile, and agree. I have taken to collecting little rocks on each of my trips here, and have quite the collection of rough quartz pieces in white, peach, and rosy hues. I keep them in my backpack for luck.
"Mr. Black" (as he prefers to be referred to publicy) is good company. At night when the session is finished he cooks us dinner and we watch a movie or listen to music or just talk about how different life is in our two countries. There's a large porch with a great view and I have a beer out there in the afternoon as the shadows grow long, then come in when the air starts to cool. It gets pretty cold at night and is a bit chily even during the day. I did not pack heavy enough clothes for the north portion of my trip, I'm afraid. Maybe I'll come home a human popsicle.
So far, the experience is exactly as I have expected... profound, exciting, and wonderful. However I miss all of you a lot and wish you could be here to share it with me (esp. one of you, you know you you are).
So anyway, I have to sign off and prepare for the session and take take my walk before I sing. I'll write again tomorrow.
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