Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

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don’t fail me now

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The last forty-eight hours of my life.

At six o’clock on Monday I am playing guitar. I have been playing for hours, drilling songs against a metronome. The bridge of “Unengaged” for twenty minutes straight. I’ve worn through a callous for the first time in ages.

Later I rehearse piano and vocals equally as hard. I fall asleep reading Outliers in bed, which just two chapters in already has caused one blowup with E because I said if I had me as a child I’d call me a failure.

I don’t want to be a failure.

Tuesday I have a fun, frantic day at work – the kind where you realize at the end of the day that you never stopped to hang your coat. I start writing the second my ass is on the bus, and emerge almost three hours later with that last post.

I rehearse. Hard. Again. Trying not to fail. Despite my voice sounding brittle and inflexible due to the lack of a warm-up, I venture out to an open mic while E stays at home and works on freelance.

At the restaurant my first song is awesome; the room is quietly transfixed. (I’m not a failure?) Afterward I promptly break a string and become shy and faltering when I’m handed another guitar. I fuck up “Like a Virgin,” of all things, and promptly lose everyone’s attention.

Today I feel slightly beaten up (thank god I don’t drink at those things), on top of beating myself up. Still manage another frantic work day that barely includes a coat-hanging. On the way home I listen to my own voice on my iPod, which a lot of days is the only thing I can manage to do.

I’m listening to “Like a Virgin” from 2006 and thinking, This is awful. Why am i singing like that? (Of course, I wouldn’t make it ten seconds into “Like a Virgin” from 2001.)

Then I listen to a Trio from 2008 and realize, God, I really did get better.

I am not a failure.

I get home and am kissed goodbye as E heads out to front her band at the Khyber. Another hour of writing.

The Gospel of Network Agnosticism

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Being “Network Agnostic” is a practice I’ve been preaching over the past few months as my business and personal lives converge on social networking.

It’s a simple concept: don’t let the technology dictate your content, and make sure your content adapts across multiple technologies.

While the concept is simple, the ensuing conversation is huge. How worried should an individual be about the permanence of their social network content? How responsible is a marketer to keep their business connected with users across a host of different networks?

Here are a few thoughts on the matter. [Read more…] about The Gospel of Network Agnosticism

Hindsight

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Can I just put something in perspective for a moment?

My free time has been devoted to event planning on at least a weekly basis since November of 2007. That’s one and a half years of constant event planning.

We spent two months planning our engagement party. Then wedding planning started in the background of planning LP’s There’s a Stage on My Lawn for last May (coming on the heels of my major advertising event at work, which I adore).

Then wedding planning was in the forefront while I background assisted on LP’s Summer Mixer. Towards the end of wedding planning was honeymoon planning, as well as the beginnings of planning LP’s BYM Fest. And, since the wedding it’s been lots of BYM Fest (plus my major advertising event at work, which I still adore).

So, as of Sunday I will be NOT planning an event for the first time in eighteen months.

Wow.

A Back Yard Music Festival

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Six years ago my friend Lindsay had a birthday party with music. With tongue in cheek she called it “Lyndzapalooza.” I carried all of my meager musical equipment down the street to her apartment on my back and we partied to a full day of our friends’ musical talents.

In each of the intervening years Lindsay threw another party, and I helped with each. Starting in 2007 the party become more of a festival – both in execution and atmosphere.

At the moment I am getting dressed to head out to Snipes Farm, where tomorrow Lyndzapalooza (LP) will host their first full-scale musical festival as a recognized non-profit.

In that shift from party to festival, we kept something very important in place: LP is a place to share and listen. The first year people played that had never had a set of their own before – including Gina and I, separately.

Even though our scale is bigger now, the concept remains the same. We’re combining a bill of bands about to get signed with some who’ve never played a show of this scale, and everyone gets hefty, full-length sets. Lindsay, Gina, and I spent the past two weeks interviewing those artists, and each article is an awesome snapshot in the development of a major talent on the Philly scene.

I have different levels of touchy-feely feelings before and after our festivals each year, largely dependent on how many times I skipped lunch, dinner, or sleep leading up to the festival and how many times I feel frustrated, angry, or incapable during the festival.

This year my pre-festival feeling is achievement. As college students we didn’t plan for our musical kegger to transform into a non-profit organization. The us of then could conceive of such a thing, but I don’t think any of us expected it to transpire.

Yet, six years later, here I am inviting you to come out tomorrow to BYM Fest to enjoy ten artists (including our duo Arcati Crisis) playing from 2pm until close to midnight, rain or shine, for just $20.

I think you’ll love it. I think college-us would have loved it, too.

You are sitting next to my wife.

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I’ve now been married for a little over a quarter of a year.

It’s been really swell, aside from the part where I was really pissed off in France for a day or two. And the quality of gouda there more than made up for it.

We’re still the newest newlyweds in most of our social circles, so we’re still getting those ever-so-nebulous questions: “How’s married life treating you? / Is married life any different?”

At first I thought there was inherent comedy in the idea that something so simple as a wedding would have fundamentally altered the nature of our unbroken seven-year relationship.

On second thought, I realized that some things are different. People treat us as more of a team than they used to. I feel more responsible to be a (dys?)functional part of her family. We own a car!

Really, the biggest difference is the way we look at each other when we’re at home watching a movie. I can’t describe it. There’s just something knowing in the glance, like, “I married you just so we could sit around and do this for the rest of our lives.”

That’s a little too intangible of a nuance for elevator chat, so I usually tell people the biggest difference is that now when people sit down next to Elise on the train I say, “Excuse me, but you are sitting next to my wife.”

They usually move.