City of Legends

Thanks to everyone who shared birthday wishes over the weekend.  Nice to feel so much love in the world.

I’ll be featuring some of the tracks from "blister" here throughout the week, as imbeds from blip.fm, where I have uploaded them.  Wait until you hear what I’ve got up my sleeve tomorrow.

First up is "Vodka and Condoms".  Remarkable mostly for the backing vocals by the lady herself, Huerta, who was the genesis of the poem that became the recording.  yes, that’s her voice.  And, if you listen, you will understand why the line stuck with me.

I took a bit of a tongue-lashing (which sometimes isn’t all bad, depending on the tongue and how thoroughly it is used) from my friend often referred to as "Huerta" on here.  Alternately she gets mentioned as "Jazz" or "Night Blooming" or even "The chick on the cover of that CD (nightblooming)".

Anyway, she wanted to protest that I did a whole blog entry about my male friends and made no mention of her wonderfulness.  She demanded I do a piece about her.  After much dodging and weaving, here ’tis.

I have never touched the woman, first off.  I say this because people are forever making assumptions about whom I have been with, in, near or around.  Never touched her.  Heard her voice in real life (as opposed to over a telephone) precisely once.  That was…I think, around 2002.

She’s very lovely and talented and intense.  That kind of unhinged talented that most people jettison with mediocrity or massive amounts of prescribed pharmaceuticals.  She hasn’t taken either path, and as a result suffers for her intensity.  She says I am her best friend, and calls me "Papa Bear".  I call her "Baby Bear" and try to get her to write more.  She’s pretty good as a writer and could get better with practice.

She’s tall. Five foot eleven, I believe, which is about usual for the women I hang around with…either I attract Amazons or they attract me, not sure which is which.  Black hair, dark eyes and a face like a Mexican porcelain doll.  Quite stunning, although she doesn’t believe it.

We worked alongside each other years ago, back when I was married to wife #2.  Never really talked or anything.  I heard her say something on the order of "Good morning" to me once. I recall because it was unusual for me to hear her speak, and she was very pretty. 

A few years and thousands of miles later we ran into each other online when she had been taste-testing some of our finer fermented beverages.  With a few drinks in her she gets rowdy.  No further details, please.  I am a gentleman.  One of her close friends has dedicated the song "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off" to her.

We continued talking and became good friends.  We’ve joked about it being more than that, but I say I am too old and fat for her.  She says she just doesn’t want to lose her best friend, as she is bad at relationships.  And that’s fine, we still get vulgar and rowdy and locker-room from time to time in text or tweets or voicemails or emails or what have you. She has been known to drunk dial me.  At 2 in the morning.  To ask me about my (non-existent) sex life.

Aubergine thought there were some unresolved feelings there. I told her that "nightblooming" was merely used as a generic, sort of like "Abstra" in my works, as I needed a focus for that CD.  She didn’t believe me.  Not 100% sure I do, but it is my nature to question, to ponder, to challenge and to search and to obfuscate when in doubt.

We were supposed to have lunch about two years ago, when I was last touring.  I showed up.  She sent her cousin.  She found it, I believe, uproarious.  I took it in grace and had a nice lunch with her cousin. 

She plays a mean rock bass.  She writes tortured poetry.  She drinks too much and falls in love with guys who are either disinterested or of low degrees.  She’s not listed as one of my muses on any of the breakdowns, and that’s fine.  With me.  She sometimes asks what it will take to get on the list.  I say "unnatural sex acts".  She scowls.

All in all, though she’s a good friend…probably of all the people I know she is the most likely to have my back during a crisis, which is nice, as the notion of a raven-eyed, drunk Amazon Mexican coming at you with murder in her heart is probably enough to scare a lot of people away.  I sometimes think of her when I see the scene in "Desperado" where Steve Buscemi is laying down the tale and describing Antonio Banderas as "the biggest Mexican I have ever seen.  Big as shit.". 

Yes, but I doubt Banderas looks quite as nice in a dress.

Okay, after what seems like almost a constant 24 hours in the studio (I promised mania, didn’t I?) I am relaxing by listening to music, right now Rod Stewart’s "Every Picture Tells a Story" (Damn you, Huerta/Jazz/Nightblooming, whatever your name is…).

I can confirm two completed tracks for the CD "blister"…"The Goad" and "into the grey".  We are working on others, including a rather rambunctious gospel-flavoured throwdown, but that’s all I will say right now.  I will say no more.

Ah, you know me better than that?  True.

Unlike the rather overwrought "Evangelist" and earnest "Truth", we’re going for something with a little more sense of fun with "blister".  And I think we are achieving it.

Hey, fellow poets, don’t forget Guerrilla Poetry Day on July 5th.

sorry for posting so late, but got busy (unbelievably busy) and yet, have some news to report.  I have been hammering down on the next book, loveaddict, and the next CD, blister.

As a kindness, here’s a link to a lyric from blister, entitled "into the grey".  Enjoi.

I’m getting feedback from all my old friends who have the couer rage to tell me who I should be involved with.  Let me just say that self-nominations are not out of the question, but use common sense.  I have enough husbands and ex-husbands mad at me over the years.

Huerta has suggested I need to get involved with a "young and dumb hottie", preferably of Asian origin (I couldn’t help but think of "Shanghai Lil" from Rod Stewart’s "Every Picture Tells a Story") with the priviso she needs to be someone who can get me into media-worthy mischief.  I think some people are missing that aspect of my life…but before I tip my hat and hand…

Back to the recording sessions. 

Just long enough to say

Happy Birthday, Jazz.

Now finish the damn manuscript.

The very small handful of people who have been allowed to hear the final track from the Evangelist CD, Evangelist, seem to be of a mind to like it.  One just said "Wow", another praised its’ "anthemic" quality.  Is that a word?

This is good.  I was nervous about that track, it is a little intimate for me (stop rolling your eyes).  I have not yet developed the psychic armor over my performances that I have over my writing.

I am right now embroiled in a test message discussion with someone I have been drafting a post about.  We are debating whether or not using her name would create a problem for her in a current relationship.  I told her that, if she feels it might brew trouble, I will leave her name off and generify the topic.  Wouldn’t be the first time, right? Is generify a word?  Should be.  If not before, is now.  I love being a poet, we get to screw with the English language.

I received the first installment of poems for Huerta’s book last night.  Needs some editing.  I won’t alter things, just point out what looks wrong and send them back.  Poetry, to me, is not a collaborative art.  Her work is, as expected, confessional, emotionally raw and explicit on many levels. 

The recent project to fix all the tags on Amomancer is largely done, still a few tweaks here and there.  I even added a textbox to explain what the tags mean to the uninitiated.

And yes, I think Evangelist is anthemic.

Which means, while an alcoholic can drink you under a table, and a sexaholic will fondle you under the table…I built the damn table and it’s mine, mine, mine.

But I digress.

I just got done with the business plan for peacat press and, subject to change, wanted to get our next several months’ worth of releases charted and noted.  Dates, titles and madness subject to change.

October 1, 2008:  Best Man in Albuquerque, a collection of fiction and poetry by Daniel S. McTaggart

November 15, 2008:  The Tales of the Amomancer, a collection of fantasy fiction and poetry by William F. DeVault

January 15, 2009:  yet unnamed manuscript of poetry by Huerta

February 20, 2009:  Aubergine, a collection of romantic and erotic poetry by William F. DeVault

Get it?  Got it?  Good.

Very tired, going to take a break from recording, engineering, planning, writing, editing and rearranging furniture (I’m not kidding) to drink a six pack of Diet Coke with Splenda and see what’s on the tube.  Whatcha want to bet I’ll be back within an hour?