I want to disappear.

...for a while.

Hairacle

I just woke up... haven't even had coffee yet. I feel awfully... oblique. Linear thought isn't much of an option at this moment.

It's Portland outside. It's Praque outside. It's Rangoon outside. But I like rain. It makes me think of my ancestral home: Pensacola, Florida. Colorado is a dry and barren place, ecologically and otherwise, normally. I want to pretend I'm somewhere else. I want to pretend I'm someone else today.

This morning's hair oracle (hairacle?) just appeared... Always shocking to realize that one's noggin' has been turned into a "crown of voodoo". 'Dem superstitious locks, mahn.

So yes, today's hair forecast is calling for gray skies, introspection, uber-pondering, thoughts of Europe, mental tip-toe'ing through the tulips, and massive amounts of coffee. Today could be summed up thusly: a rich and lustrous inner life, wrapped in a disconnected exterior.

LGM Video

I realized that I wrote about the making of the LGM video (below... just scroll down) from the new record, Why Birds Fly, but never put the finished video here on the blog!

So here it is:

Moths

We're playing the foundry tonight in boulder... an experience that usually lands somewhere between genuinely fun and soul-crushing. But what makes it truly entertaining is... that bar -- no shit -- has delivered more "faux lesbian college girl" watching than one man could ever possibly digest.

Seriously, during every set, I swear to God, I see 2 or 3 pairs of girls "partying" and then making out with each other. And these are NOT dedicated, full-time, dyed-in-the-wool lesbians either. They are... sexual tourists, at best. I always see a big cartoon bubble above their heads that reads something like "My mom would freak out if she saw me right now!... Wait... Is that my burrito or her enchiladas I'm tasting?... Her tits are bigger than mine... I hate her for that... Is that boy on stage looking at us?... Oh my god, I'm *so drunk*!!!..."

Am I getting dour and cynical or just... um... jaundiced and sardonic?

Shouldn't lesbian experimentation titillate me?

Bars feel more and more like trips to the zoo to me. Like some biology-meets-anthropology field trip...

"Notice now the nervous humans use alcohol as a tool for social coping... They move in self-aware, ironic herds. Each one is simultaneously aware of the herd it is in (its 'starter herd'), AND the herd it wants to be in (its 'goal herd'). The drive to procreate simply heightens and focuses their neurotic behavior. Look! Over there, by the scowling bartender... A classic mating maneuver!!"

...

Maybe I should quit everything and go teach English in a community college in Tampa... Really. I should stop fighting the tide of my own mediocrity and just slip under the waves. I'll be the guy with suede elbow patches, graying hair and eternal coffee breath. The exhausted sigh will be my specialty. My grading will be completely random... I'll give out F's to anyone who uses the word 'inscrutable' in their essay. Immediate C minus's for anyone who fails to fill their double spaced papers with enough metaphorical content. I'll park my car in the wrong lot. I'll tell everyone, "I'm only working here while I finish my movie script. It's been optioned by Miramax."

There will be no movie script. There never was one.

Eventually, I'll acquire tenure -- academia's way of rewarding sustained non-action. On the afternoon of my retirement, surrounded by my "colleagues" in the English Department, drunk, I will announce that I have prepared a speech...

I'll gently set down my paper plate of white sheet cake and generic ice cream, saunter over to the Dean of Admissions, unzip, and piss on his shoes, slurring, "I've got something I want to admit to you..."

Afterward, I'll enter an ugly retirement, just off campus. I'll shack up with one of my 'students' in her 1 bedroom condo. Dusty afternoons filled with uninspired lovemaking and very bad television. We'll cook crepes on a hot plate beside the bed. Evenings will bring boxed wine on the cramped balcony porch overlooking the community laundry room. It's summer... The humidity is stifling... even darkness doesn't cool things off.

"Darling, leave the light on... I want to watch the moths slam themselves into the light."

My Hair Tells Me Things

I just woke up... it's a little after 8 in the morning. I got to sleep a little late last night... I should still be asleep, I think.

I caught a glance myself in the bathroom mirror a second ago and nearly yelped... My bed head is getting ridiculouser and ridiculouser by the day. I look more and more like a homeless man. It's a good look for me, I think.

I've realized that I keep postponing my next haircut just to see what each new morning will bring. Every day, when I get up and look in my bathroom mirror, my hair has mysteriously coiffed itself into some new, bizarre hair sculpture. A fresh new surprise. I think my hair is trying to tell me something...

Now that I think about it, it's a little like a daily oracle...
* tea leaves
* horoscopes
* chicken guts
* Tarot cards
* NPR
* and now, my hair.

Every morning brings a new "message".

I think this morning's message is "Get a job."

swim to the buoy.

My alarm went off at 3:55AM and the first thing I did was smile. I took that as a good sign...

I had climbed into bed the night before at 9PM (not normal...) and layed there on my back, pretending to be tired, pretending to sleep, for 7 hours. I didn't sleep at all... I was too excited about the race – my first triathlon!

I'd been training since April, doing 10-15 workouts a week: swimming, running, biking, lifting weights, core. It had been such a great process, all that training. It sounds weird and more-than-a-little obsessive probably, but there is something really centering about preparing with that much focus and time for something.

Purposeful.

As for the race itself, I’m not really in to competition… Wait. That’s a lie. I’m competitive with myself – very. But I don’t normally have much desire or need to “win” against another person. It doesn’t motivate me to “beat someone”. And yet there’s something official and real and legitimizing about a race, and besides, I’d promised myself that I was going to do a triathlon in 2007.

So here goes.

I sat on the edge of my bed there in the dark, still smiling. I felt really good, prepared and a little nervous…. giddy actually. What a nerd!

I had a lot to do though… I needed to get all of my stuff together, make some coffee, eat a little something, load up my truck with my gear, pick up my friend Eliza (who got me into triathlons), and get on the road to Boulder.

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It was pitch black when we got to Boulder Reservoir. It was a little after 6AM. A line of cars were pulling into the parking area… a sleepy, nervous, odd energy was everywhere. We walked through the darkness, carrying duffle bags of gear, pushing or carrying our bikes into the transition area. We looked at each other there in the dark, ridiculous obsessives, mumbling to each other, “What were we thinking? This is insane… We should be in bed.”

At the entrance to the transition area, under the blinding glare of the high-powered klieg lights, the race people stop us and ask, “have you been body marked and numbered yet”?

When they ask me this, my over-active imagination simultaneously launches two separate alternate realities: 1) we’re being processed into some Auschwitz-esque concentration camp where they write numbers on our bodies and then make us do triathlons until we find a way to escape; and 2) I woke up in some strange culture of Spartans and now I’m about to get war painted and sent out to die in battle…

Hey, it was early.

So I stripped off my shirt and a sleepy girl wrote “258” (my race number) on my arms and my hand. And then they wrote “36” on my right calf (my age). She started to move on to the next person, but I stopped her and said, “Hey, could you write something on my left forearm for me?” I asked her to write “R/YR” on me… to remind me during the race of two things: 1) Relax and 2) Your Race… meaning, to make sure I was doing MY race, and not anyone else’s.

That was my main concern – especially on the swim: being at the start line with a bunch of amped up, nervous triathletes, and getting inadvertently swept up into some herd-like vibe that made me try to swim too fast or get off my rhythm. My main goal for the race was to feel good and strong the entire time – and the best way to screw that up would be to not relax on the swim and/or to let other folks take me out of my mental space. Does that make sense? Anyway, she didn’t quite know what I meant, so I had to repeat myself… “The letter R. Then a slash. Then the letter Y. Then the letter R. Thanks…”

So Eliza and I found a good spot in the transition area – close to the Bike In and Bike Out and started laying out all my stuff: biking shoes, socks, shirt, race bib thingy, gel/fuel, water, helmut, towels, bike…

Then it was all about waiting for the gun.

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We all started walking down to the beach… looking out at the half-mile swim course. Nervously talking to each other. Making friends… “What wave are you in?” “Is this your first triathlon?” “Are you a strong swimmer?” “Why are we doing this again?” “Holy shit it’s cold!!!”

I was the ONLY person in the entire race (I think) who didn’t wear a wetsuit. "Hi. I’m John. I’ll just be shivering over here. Don’t mind me."

Actually, the water was warmer than the air temperature.

Anyway, my wave, (2nd wave) got into the water, wading out up to our chests and waiting for the gun to go off. Way out in the distance was an orange buoy. It seemed A LONG WAY OFF to me. At that buoy, we had to turn right and swim A LONG WAY OFF to another buoy. And at that buoy (which was out in the middle of nowhere, seemingly), we had to turn right again and swim A LONG WAY BACK to shore.

Jesus…

I mean, I’d only started swimming 4 months ago. And open water REALLY freaked me out the first 4 or 5 times I tried swimming in it… And here I was, seconds away from gang-swimming my way out into the middle of a fucking reservoir. What was I thinking?

But here’s the cool thing: all of my training kicked in. I felt COMPLETELY RELAXED. I didn’t even have to employ any of my mind-calming, self-help, talk-myself-down-out-of-the-tree techniques. I just put on my goggles, the gun went off and I started swimming. I felt surprisingly good and strong and decidedly NOT freaked out. As I was swimming, I kind of laughed to myself, thinking: “It’s pretty simple. You just swim to the buoy. That’s how you do it… you just swim to the buoy.”

I think I’m going to make a t-shirt that reads:

swim to the buoy.

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A half-mile later, I walked out of the reservoir feeling kind of drunk – try swimming a while and then going straight into a run some time – it feels WEIRD at first getting your “earth balance” back. I trotted up the beach to the transition area with a big smile on my face. I knew that the scariest part of the race was over. It would be easy from here on out.

Well, not really easy. I still had to bike 26 miles and run 3.1 miles. But that was just about effort and focus. I had plenty of that.

I ran into the transition area feeling the cool morning air, thinking about making sure I spent as little time as possible getting clothed and on to my bike, but not forgetting anything important… 3 minutes later, I was out of the swim-to-bike transition and starting the course! It took a little while to get the sand off my feet and my socks and shoes and shirt and race number thingy on. My feet were completely numb from the cold water, the cold sand, the cold concrete… Pedaling away from the reservoir, I sucked down a gel/fuel and focused on the ride.

The bike ride took us all around the Reservoir, away from Boulder up toward Lyons, out toward Longmont, then out to Niwot and then back to the reservoir. I felt really strong on the bike… I was actually passing people? That’s never happened before. Around mile 22, I started feeling the effort. My legs started to ache. I started to lose focus… I had to really concentrate. It’s interesting to watch your mind in a situation like this… First in the water, and then out on the bike. It’s funny how the mind reacts to different stresses… and it’s REALLY REALLY interesting to see how much power we have over our thoughts, and how much those thoughts affect everything else. During the bike, I kept repeating the word “strong” in my head, over and over, especially when it got difficult.

Eventually, the turn back to the reservoir appeared… again, one of those swim to the buoy moments. How do you get there? Keep pedaling. Ultimately, all of that training results in a very simple thing:

keep pedaling.

That will be my second t-shirt.

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I pulled into the transition, got off my bike and started running my bike to my little area… immediately, my legs LOUDLY protested… “Dude, are you fucking kidding me? You make us bike 26 miles and then you expect us to RUN? Not gonna happen pal. You’re ridiculous. We’re going to hurt – a lot – until you go over there and sit in the grass. Punk.”

But again, the training kicked in. I’d been here before… at the bike-into-run transition. I knew that my legs would eventually loosen up and stop hurting so much, about 4 or 5 minutes into the run. I just had to focus on getting my bike shoes off, my running shoes on, and getting out of the transition area.

Wait. I really have to pee first. So I did that. That took an extra 30 seconds… ducking into the portable toilet outhouse thingy in the transition area. I laughed at myself at that moment… standing there, sweating, in a plastic box at 8:30AM in the morning, thinking “Hurry hurry!”

Seriously.

So I got out on to the run course… it took us out along the two dams on the east and north side of the reservoir. A simple out-and-back with a turnaround at the half-way point.

I felt like I was going so slowly! I looked at my heart rate monitor and saw that I was right where I needed to be… I looked down at my left forearm and thought, “Relax. Easy… good form… Run your own race.” A few people passed me… some of them REALLY FAST. These were folks from later waves – seriously fit people. And a few not so fit looking people. Humbling! I knew that this was just a 5K run and that I needed to stay focused and just gut it out. The race was nearly finished… I remembered my main goal: to finish strong. I started repeating that word again… strong. I just had to gut it out. And honestly, I didn’t feel that bad. I felt pretty good, actually. That’s the 3rd T-shirt:

gut it out.

I watched my times (splits) and realized that I was running faster than I felt. Again, funny and interesting to see the difference between what we think and feel on one hand, and reality on the other hand. It’s a really useful lesson to be reminded of: what we think isn’t so important all the time. How we feel isn’t always the best measure of the truth. Again, humbling. So I just kept running.

I saw my friend Tanya on the run course after the turnaround she was running toward me – we high-fived and called each other rock stars. It was great. Made me run a little faster – and her too (she told me after the race).

In no time at all, I was at the top of the final little hill that led down to the finish line. It felt surprisingly unimportant, when I saw the finish line. What I mean is, it just felt normal. Like, “Oh look… there’s the finish line.” No big rush of emotion or anything… just another end to another run.

Oddly, that felt good. I was about to finish my first triathlon and it felt pretty much like another workout to me. Not that it wasn’t GREAT… just a statement about how well prepared I was, thanks to my triathlon coach, Eddie Herd, and all of the smart workouts he gave me. Honestly, I just did what he told me to do and it completely worked. Literally, ANYONE can do this. Thanks Eddie… ☺

(Side note: Eddie’s about to do his 4th Hawaii Ironman in 1 month. He’s incredible – a total athlete hero.)

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So I crossed the finish line. Eliza was there, cheering me on. I walked up to her, gave her a big sweaty hug, got some water and hung out for a while, talking with Eliza and Tanya… talking about the race. And then we drove back to Denver.

By 10:30AM, I was back at my house… I walked in, saw Emma waiting for me in the kitchen, gave her a scratch on her ears and said, “Emma! I just did a triathlon!”

She yawned and stretched and looked up at me, saying, “Wanna go for a run?”

Thanks to everyone who read all of my blog entries about this triathlon stuff... and who sent me well wishes over the last 4 or 5 months. It really made a difference to know that you were cheering me on!

~John


P.S. I'm planning on doing an Olympic distance triathlon next season. I just need to get healed up from my hand surgery (Oct 2nd) before I can get back to training hard a gain...

P.P.S.

My numbers... race tattoos...





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race stats:

total race time - 2:15:10
750 meter swim - 18:07
swim to bike transition - 2:56
26 mile bike - 1:23:56
bike to run transition - 1:44
5K run - 28:28

(The race-winning time was 1:27:55 Holy shit!)

Busy weekend...

It's going to be a busy weekend...

I'm doing a triathlon (TRI For Your Cause) Saturday morning at 7AM at the Boulder Reservoir. This is my first "official triathlon"... thankfully, I've been training really hard all summer, including doing a bunch of training triathlons of equal or longer distances, so I don't feel too concerned. My only goals for this race are:

1) Don't drown.
2) Finish feeling strong.
3) Have fun.
4) Don't freeze...

Fall decided to come a bit early to Colorado this year, so it appears that I'll be swimming, biking and running in less-than-summer weather. Oh, and I'm NOT wearing a wetsuit... so it will be quite a wake-up when I get in the water! Holy shit! That's gonna suck. It's going to be 42 degrees when I start the swim. But what's gonna suck MORE is if the 25 mile run is really windy -- which is a strong possibility, given that the race is in Boulder, right next to the foothills. As for the run, I can gut out a 5K no matter what -- wind, snow, whatever. Bring it. :-)

Hey, it's a triathlon -- it's not supposed to be easy. Right?

That night, we're playing a show at Trilogy in Boulder. That'll be fun. I hope a bunch of folks show up!

Sunday night I'm playing a show with my old band, Rainville, opening up for Mark Olson -- the former lead singer and songwriter for The Jayhawks. That will definitely be a fun show!

I'm guessing I'll sleep well Sunday night...

New (old) song

I've been going through my song vault lately... found this one from a looong time ago. I might pull it back out and start playing it again.

broke enough

those homeless boys along the wharf
are pitching quarters 'cause they're bored
so don't believe them when they beg you
for a bed that's nice and warm
a little shelter from the storm
when you close your eyes they're gonna pull out
their sharpened spoons and forks

I want to say I'm sorry for not being broke enough
I know there's something charming
about a clock that doesn't tick
or a stray that's lost and sick
but if it makes you feel much better
you gave me my first chip

am I broke enough yet?

I'm learning how to starve
I've started sleeping… in my car
I carry a pistol in my heart
and I've got you to thank for it
it makes a perfect fit
when I breath it hurts a bit
but I'll know just where it is

when I see you
and I ask you
am I broke enough yet?
am I broke enough yet?
am I broke enough yet?

Triathlons and stuff

So I've been doing these little one-man training triathlons every week for about a month now... usually at the Boulder Res or Chatfield. They've been really great. But one of the unexpected side effects is that doing them has made me feel like I've already hit my goal of doing a triathlon this year. I suppose that's because I HAVE hit my goal. So the idea of doing an official race seems a) less scary but also b) less interesting. Also, my music schedule is making it difficult.

Case in point: this weekend. I'm playing Friday at the Lyons Folks Festival for the songwriter competion this Friday. And Saturday night, we're playing a show in Lyons at Oskar Blues. I was signed up and ready to do the Rattlesnake Triathlon on Sunday morning, but I think there's literally NO CHANCE that I'm going to get home at 2:30+AM on Saturday night (Sunday morning) and then wake up at 5AM for a a triathlon. I'm crazy, but I'm not that crazy... So I'm skipping it.

I've signed up for another TRI on Sept 15 at Bouler Res. It's a cool one: 750 meter swim + 25 mile bike + 5K run. It's called "TRI for your cause". They let you choose the nonprofit of your choice to donate a portion of your registration money to... I chose KGNU -- Boulder's community/public radio station. They're such great people there and have always been so great and supportive to me. Anyway, I'm gonna do that TRI so that I can say I've done an official triathlon". But honestly, I didn't get into this TRI stuff for the races. It's truly my least favorite part. The best part has been and still is the training... and setting goals and then hitting them.

It dawned on me a couple of weeks ago as I was finishing a 5K run (the run portion) of one of my training triathlons that I had hit my goal: to complete a triathlon in 2007. It felt SO INCREDIBLY GOOD when I realized that I had done it: an 850 meter swim, a 20 mile bike and a 5K run... all in 96 degree weather (stupid!). Anyway... I'm babbling I suppose. I've just been writing about it so much, I felt like I should write an update on this TRI stuff...

I'm going in for hand surgery in October to fix (hopefully once and for all) my broken left hand... when I do that, I'll be in for 4 to 5 months of zero-to-superlow activity: i.e. no triathlon training. I think I'm going to go completely fucking nuts. I've gotten really used to doing 2-3 workouts a day! Seriously!

Maybe I'll take up meditation... something to try and calm me down.

Maybe.

Maybe I should have been a historian. Or a futurist. The present tense is so much more difficult to understand.

A roots record... Maybe.

It hit me again today... that I should record a roots-influenced record. When Rainville ended, I was sitting on what would have been Rainville's 3rd record. Since then, I've continued to write root-ish songs... about one out of every 6 or 7 songs still falls in that genre for me. But that's not really why I want to do it.

I want to do it because I think it would be really fun to record a KICK ASS roots record... with gorgeous tones, simple, straight forward arrangements and do it with a bunch of really good friends and great players. Think Steve Earle or Drive By Truckers or Lucinda Williams or even some of that Okkervill River stuff or Magnolia Electric Co. or Milton Mapes or... you get the point.

Anyway, I started looking around my songs for candidates for such a record... and I found this one. I wrote it during "the last phase" of Rainville. Jesus, the writing was literally on the wall!

disillusionment part 2
may 2003

I'm fucking sick of this guitar
I'm fucking tired of the road
I couldn't give less of a shit if you like me
but I wish you'd take me home
I'm getting wiser so much wiser
and so totally out of touch
there's nothing in the world that I love more
but it might be time to hang it up

morning rolls around and we climb into the machine
bad attitudes and listerine / gasoline
what's the quickest way to get out of here
I'll punch the gas if you just steer

I'm totally sick of new york city
yeh I know it got attacked
but it's full of arty pricks and posers
who love to stab you in the back
it's the capitol of the new world
but the subways smell like piss
she's a dirty concrete beauty
who likes to screw but never kiss

morning rolls around and we climb in the machine
bad attitudes and listerine / gasoline
what's the quickest way to get out of here
I'll punch the gas if you just steer

one two three four
I'm so totally bored
five six seven eight
I guess we showed up late
nine ten eleven twelve
I got nothing to sell
but these thirteen rock songs
thirteen rock songs
thirteen rock songs

I used to live in boulder county
with the dreadlock trust fund trash
they're selling peace, love and understanding
but what they really want is cash
I had to quit my stupid day job
'cause it was leaching out my soul
I traded money for a calling
and now I'm broke on rock-n-roll

morning rolls around and we climb in the machine
bad attitudes and listerine / gasoline
what's the quickest way to get out of here
I'll punch the gas if you just steer

drive me way out into the country
and drop me off in a tiny town
I wanna fall in love with the girl at the co-op
I need someone to help me down
I'm gonna buy me an old piano
and take a gig at a local bar
I'll write songs about redemption
and how it only goes so far

morning rolls around and we climb in the machine
bad attitudes and listerine / gasoline
what's the quickest way to get out of here
I'll punch the gas if you just steer

A little test triathlon

I've been doing little "test triathlons" every week for several weeks now... I get up on Saturday, drink too much coffee, procrastinate until it's hotter than unholy hell and then drag ass out to a reservoir for a little one-man triathlon.

Last Saturday, I did one at the Boulder Reservoir (the week before was Chatfield. My swimming is still fairly lame... but I'm feeling WAY more confident than I did when I first started swimming 11 weeks ago. I'm trying to remind myself that I essentially JUST started and to go easy on my expectations. Anyway, I swam in the Boulder Res (1000 meters), then biked up to Longmont and back (20 miles) and then ran a 5K around part of the reservoir. By the end, it was my favorite temperature (evidently): 95 degrees. I think my brain got a little cooked. I was kind of a zombie the rest of the day.

But it felt good, oddly.

To finish it, I mean. :-)

Do you hallucinate when you run?

It's hot outside. I know this personally.

Yesterday, during the last half mile of my little 4 mile run, my mind drifted off... I began fantasizing that it was winter in Japan. I imagined that I was walking through a mild, late afternoon snow storm in some rural town in a wooded part of Japan. Walking through the little town, I happened upon a small restaurant waiting for me in the late afternoon light. An old man sat me at a table by the window. I sat there and slowly ate Sushi while sipping hot tea... Snowflakes lightly falling, quieting the already quiet town, and me inside... I sat there looking out, thinking. My heavy, charcoal-colored, wool coat was slung over the back of my chair.


I actually SAW this scene in my head, like a mirage. Strange.

I didn't hallucinate today. At least I don't think I did. Here are some BEFORE pictures...




And this is my watch. It's set to zero. It's waiting for me to stop fucking around and take it running.



And this is me, irrationally excited to go running. So excited, in fact, that I decided to act like I was already running... (I know.... I am a dork.)


.
.
.
.
.
.
.

And these are the AFTER pictures. A lot more sweat, a lot less clowning...




And this is me, sitting at that table in that restaurant in Japan on that snowy afternoon in my mind...

I must enjoy suffering...

I must enjoy suffering... It's 97 degrees right now at 2:15PM, on it's way to 100 degrees and I'm about to go for a run. Look, this is the first chance I've gotten to run today. And I've learned that the MOST important determining factor in me working out isn't the weather, it's my motivation. And right now, inexplicably, I want to go for a run.

So I suppose I will go for a run.

If you see a John-shaped puddle somewhere in North Denver, you'll know what happened.

Lyons Folks Festival... Cool News!!

I got a phone call today telling me that I got chosen out of a bunch of songwriters as a finalist in the Lyons Folks Festival. HOW COOL!!! A long list of seriously amazing national artists play this thing (see below) and it's turned into one of CO's premier festivals...

I've never submitted to one of these songwriter things before, but my friens Brian McRae and Zach Ginsberg basically leaned on me until I dit it. Thanks Brian and Zach... The song I submitted was LGM, from WHY BIRDS FLY.

Check it out: Lyons Folks Festival

In the last several years, Jeff Tweedy, Steve Earle, Martin Sexton, Mason Jennings, Ani DiFranco, Richard Thomson, Ben Kweller, Indigo Girls, and Patty Griffin have all played this festival.

THIS YEAR, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Ray LaMontagne, Chris Isaak and a bunch of other national acts are playing it! And me too!

I'll be playing along with the other 10 finalists on Friday, August 17th on the main stage around 12PM. And the next night, Saturday, August 18th, my band and I will be playing in Lyons at Oskar Blues for a really cool show with other Colorado artists, Jack Redell, Bella Karoli, Greg Alan Isakov, A Ballad Nightly and Martin Barclay.

This Old House: Denver

My Dad flew in to Denver a couple of days ago... We're hanging out and working on a bunch of home improvement projects inside and outside my house... a little brick bungalow that was built in 1927. She's a sweetie - but she needs a little love.

Anyway, we're having a great time. This is us having coffee on the front porch, plotting and scheming about what projects to do today on THIS OLD HOUSE: DENVER. Notice how gangsta we get in some of these photos. Impressive...

Video for LGM

A film crew descended on to my house on July 9th and 10th to shoot a video for a song named LGM from WHY BIRDS FLY... what an incredible process! The original concept for the video came from Zach Ginsberg and was further developed by me and Breck Larson, the director.


THE CONCEPT

The idea for the video is to combine a simple song (LGM) that is basically saying: "This world can be a rough place... Let's face it together", with footage and a loose story that shows the unadorned, everyday beauty of two people living together. We decided to shoot it at my house with lots of back-lit, close-up shots... Alternating scenes of a girl and guy going about their daily life -- living together, boyfriend and girlfriend... at the dinner table. eating breakfast, writing a letter, reading a book, talking on the phone... any number of things.

There will also be some "performance shots" of me playing my acoustic guitar and singing (close-ups of hands, guitar strings, etc) as well as shots of Jeremy Lawton playing lap steel -- interspersed into the "couple living together" footage. When it's edited, it will have a washed out, over saturated film look... with sharp focus on certain areas to draw attention.... a guitar, a coffee cup, her hand, a chair... etc.


THE CAST AND CREW

I was blown away when I saw the amazing group of people that Breck pulled together from Denver's independent film scene to shoot this video... I was also amazed at alll of Breck's GEAR: lights, lights, lights, stands, cameras, lenses, cables, gels, cases, etc. It was kind of amazing to see my house turned into a movie set. We had such a good time... Here are all of the people who worked on the video:

Breck Larson: Producer, Director, Director of Photography
Mark Weiler: Camera Operator
Scott Jones: Lighting/Grip
Joshua Trager: Grip
Courney Hart: Make-up/Wardrobe
Angela Blake: Props/ Set Decorating
Laszlo Varga: Lighting/Grip
Gary Hansbrough: Audio Playback
Jen Fiskum: Actor
Matt Buckstein: Actor
Jim Biddix: Grip 2
John Common: Producer, Bartender, "Get Out Of The Way John, You're In The Shot"

Day One consisted of shooting all of the scenes with Matt and Jen (the couple). We shot my and Jeremy's performance shots on Day Two, along with a bunch of interior shots of the house. I'd never been a part of anything like this before... it's a really tiring but great process. So incredibly collaborative! I can see how you could get as addicted to making films as you can making music. I can't wait to see how this all turns out...


PICTURES FROM DAY ONE

Here are some photos I took from Day One's shoot... Sorry for the out of focus stuff. I was literally shooting from my hip, walking around, trying (and failing) to get out of everyone's way...

















And perhaps the most IMPORTANT part of the entire video... Ladies and Gentleman, I now present to you... [drum roll] THE LGM COMMEMORATIVE FRUIT PLATE !!!!!



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PICTURES FROM DAY TWO


Today was the video shoot of me singing and playing LGM out in my backyard and Jeremy playing lapsteel. Wow, what a production. Breck and Laslo and Josh and Angela and Jim built a little semi-circular rail road line on my back porch for the camera truck thingy to move around... Ah, just look at the pictures, you'll see what I mean.

Oh, and they made me wear makeup... including mascara?? "You have really light eyelashes, John, and we can't see them". Umm, okay. That was a first for me. Not having any sisters growing up, I can honestly say, today was my first time "in makeup". How do you girls do it? It feels like I have... stuff... all over my face. Wait. I do.

Anyway... Everyone who has been a part of this things has been so great! Hopefully these snapshots will convey some of the work (and passion) that went into shooting this little film...

Sleepy Head Duathlon

I was supposed to walk up at 5:15AM today and drive to Wiggins, CO (an hour or so down I-76) to do the Cabbage Head Duathlon -- a 5K run + 30K bike + 5K run. But when my alarm went off, a mere 2 hours after I had fallen asleep, I just couldn't do it. So yes, this is a bit of a confession.

You see, we played a gig in Boulder last night that got me to bed around 2:30... and to sleep a little after 3:00. I just didn't relish the idea of doing a race on 2 hours of sleep. That seemed like punishment, not fun. So I called my triathlon friend Eliza and bailed on her at 5:30, after 15 minutes of guilt-ridden consternation. She said, "Yeh, I wasn't going to say anything when you told me about your gig..."

So I went back to bed.

Then I woke up around 10AM, drank a pot of coffee, and turned on some music. By 11AM I was feeling roughly human enough to go do my own one-man race... I've decided to name it THE SLEEPY HEAD DUATHLON -- a 3.6 mile run + 20 mile bike + 3.6 mile run.

It was really hot.

No. I mean REALLY hot. I found out, after I'd finished, that it was 97 degrees during my second run. No wonder I was literally fantasizing about cold glasses of water! About 1/2 mile from the finish, I found an errant sprinkler that was gently spraying water in the middle of yard. I jumped on it like a homeless man jumps on a pork chop... like a convict jumps on a conjugal visit... like a... you get the point. Never has hose water tasted so damn good.

Anyway, I missed the Cabbage Head Duathlon, but founded the Sleepy Head Duathlon. That's the news. Let me know if you'd like to do it some time. I'll show you the course.

Put 'em up! Put 'em up!

This is how I will respond to open water swimming from now on:


Dorothy: Your majesty, if you were king, you wouldn't be afraid of anything?


Cowardly Lion: Not nobody. Not nohow.


Tin Woodsman: Not even a rhinoceros?


Cowardly Lion: Imposerous!


Dorothy: How about a hippopotamus?


Cowardly Lion: Why, I'd thrash him from top to bottomus.


Dorothy: Supposing you met an elephant?


Cowardly Lion: I'd knot him up in cellophant.


Scarecrow: What if it were a brontosaurus?


Cowardly Lion: I'd show him who was king of the forest [ed. water].