The Year of Twenty Eleven
If you change one of the three, the other two will change.
COME AROUND (See You Soon) by Wendy Clark (2012)
I'll be over there in case you want to know
If you don't want to see me you can call me on the phone
I know that you don't love me but honey I don't really mind
I know I will be waiting for you until the end of time.
I know that you don't see me - your eyes are growing tired
I know that you won't notice me if I'm hiding in your yard
I know that you will never love me but baby I don't even care
I haven't any options, so you can probably find me there
The photos in the news and on the and on the front of the New York Times
Don't really do me justice but the media's never kind
But BABY - ARE YOU COMING AROUND?
I said - BABY - ARE YOU COMING AROUND?
BABY - ARE YOU COMING AROUND?
Because you are not the only one to come around
I'll be over here because I think I'm coming on to strong
If you don't really believe me you can buy this CD with this here song
I know you probably love me baby but you had better beware
I haven't any directions, so you can probably find me here
Of course you can take authoritive action and you can draw yet another line
But come on now sweet darlin', everything's just fine
But BABY - ARE YOU COMING AROUND?
I said - BABY - ARE YOU COMING AROUND?
BABY - ARE YOU COMING AROUND?
Because you are not the only one to come around
COME AROUND 7x AND ROUND AND ROUND AND AROUND
Chris Daniels and the Kings have taken the #1 as my favorite live band on the planet since I saw them again Friday night at the Little Bear in Evergreen. Chris Daniels is the whole enchilada, and he may not actually know it, but is absolutely stunning and hauntingly captivating. WHY? Because he is not real. I made him up while dealing with the psychological nightmares that occur when one has no real absolute hero. So many rock star sagas later, I meet my hero. Although Sharon Rawles had introduced us and did her best to clarify that she didn't introduce most musicians to the big guy, so I had to behave. I did. But I was 25 and he was on his was to Europe and I didn't know why this was relevant. Bbbbbut it was.
Anyway, Chris asked me to join him on stage for a song and I hollered along with what I could hear from the horn players' blisteringly impossible floor mix and smiled despite myself. And also on purpose, I guess. I think I danced and waved too, but that's what happens sometimes. Happy.
But I have been what you might call star-struck or rockstar-enamored before so it was a blur benig on star singing some call and response business like I was Hazel or somethin'. This was the third time I saw him (where I could actually see him and not and ant on stage with a stick) and hundreds of live shows - seen prolly 200+ Roger shows - and then whooooosh! The frontman geetar playing CD stepped up and I really knew he was the real thing but in a raw form of kindness that is missing from those folks who fall of their pedistool rather quickly -it for sure - this whole bunch of us here and way beyond Colorado - have nothing on you. And you just keep getting better. You're contagious. Thank you for playing us your songs, Chris Daniels. And showing us the way.
Big, Brand New Nothing
The best way to run away from your problems is a genuine research item for many former musicians. I am pretty sure this is a good probability but do not have the time to check it out in another window right now. I will not be side-tracked by the infinite bookmarks that all go back to my website and this is almost a form of rehabilitation that struck me moments ago, which is not a pretty picture as I shake here and think that I may just find a way to do this without hiding all my scattered links and weekly reports, google alerts, and this really is just not a big deal. But withdrawl certainly is the one monster that I deal with almost daily because I love to get those songs to some people who may play us on their videos (see the drawing hands video below), use us in their podcasts (several countries and shows have used our songs - thanks Jamendo!) - and hundreds have linked to our videos, songs, lyrics, downloaded our mp3s and thanked us from all over the world for so many years and the locals have never demanded us to pack it up. So thanks for that, you guys.
This is not a big shiny new start. This appears to be escapism.
-Evening One I Learned: Be prepared that the individuals may take any situation as an invitation to be gang up on anyone present or not. Silence is expected of the brave. In that sense, this aspect of what I had hoped would be time to think backfired.
Good enough though. Have extraordinary amount of things to do now. Grown-up stuff, I think. Wish me luck.
*Another Time, Another Place*
"If there was an answer, he'd find it there." My father was a man of few words - obscure and enigmatic - and we knew those metaphysical, poetic statements were never open for
discussion.
But I suspected my father thought I had the right answers; mostly, I only offered broken questions.
I suspected my father knew, as did I; nothing would ever be the same.
I was often suspicious during those wild childhood days; without a doubt, that suspiciousness had a direct psychological connection: frequently, when trouble surfaced, I
consistently proved myself to be a suspect.
No one had to tell us where we were headed, because there was no one else
anymore, anyway. My brother sat next to me and never spoke as we all watched
the present transform into this future we were living in – fading sunlight,
golden against the spinning clouds, our little boxcar clicking consistently
over the tracks; moments suspended into a timeless sensation that roused a
sense of apathetic optimism – while we chased the sun as it plummeted into
the vague horizon; the dark would be upon us soon; we just had to stay on
the right track.
I had fallen outside myself that evening; my wandering mind guided my
eyes to trace the image of my epitaph on the beautiful canvas of the cloudy
sky.
Whispering my last rites, I abruptly stumbled over my words when I was
nearly finished, because I could not, for the love of Pete, recall my own
name! I theorized that I existed somehow; slightly, I knew I was thinking
and slightly I was amused; I wanted to speak to my companions, just to
verify that I was concrete in this abstract story. I weighed my
conversational options, and but rather wanting to explain to them my
philosophical meanderings - that not everything in life had meaning or
sense to it; life was a mere dream: got to "row, row, row your boat gently,"
and my mind went to another place, another time. I was lost in the chaos of
nothing to lose but my mind yet genuinely as well surprised that I could
sit and handle the sail of our boxcar so coolly.
Out of left field, my grandmother turned to me and inquired, "What is
going to be there?"
I repeated her question back to her, but slowly and in the form of a
sentence, not a question. I didn't look at her for a while. I wasn't sure
if she was messing with me. As smart as I was, I knew that she knew she was
smarter. I was quiet.
She waited, though, and I finally angled an eyebrow in her direction –
suspiciously – and we locked vacant stares.
I sighed, and finally responded, "Nothing is going to be there until you
have found some good in something, I guess, amidst all the nothing
good.….. the light, maybe," I paused because I wasn't finding the words that
connected to build that symbolism, then I wandered back to her eyes,
"sometimes, if you let yourself go, completely and profoundly, you can
find some sort of meaning, grandma; the light may only be there – in how you
look at it just right."
"Then what happens?"
I shrugged and replied, "Well, maybe we will know when we get there."
"No plot?" She blinked hard. "That's not a plot."
"You see," I said, "if you don't have a plot, you can make your own way."
She softened her gaze and turned to face the distance and beautiful
elasticity before us, surreal as the steamy splashes of the bluest water
on either side of our car.
"Good story," she whispered. She smiled at the last of the day. I
proceeded silently into the night toward a destination unknown.
I was a writer.
I made the story as I went along. I was recharged – my mind was mad with
the infinite spectacular phenomenon which engaged my beingness, a gleam
in my young eyes, I was on my way there.
by wendy clark hudson
Copyright 2011
Wasting time was a phrase you heard many times when you were qrowing up. Time time time. Time is of the essence.
Speaking of songs I don't get to play, I really think that I am not going to be able to endure this waste of time much longer. I just love the fact that they are unaware of the fact that I can't wait to telll them that they are pretty much not even worth fighting about anymore.
Don't tell me what to do.
Don't let the sky fall down on me.
The best time you had with me was when I took you to the Rolling Stones Concert in 1990. You gave me a half hit of acid which was enough to enjoy every moment. Life has a way of being all about money sometimes, and I never paid you back that thirty bucks.
This is.
Today is the day that I did not have a bad reaction to anything and no one really responded badly to me. Theoretically, I was able to ascertain my reality and I was more than capable of strolling through the minutes of the day without even being concerned about the time of day, the way it would work out even though the torture of wanting to maim someone for making you feel inferior is often self-mutilating both on the soul and the heart - the heart of someone who has panic attacks but is not taking enough because I am ashamed to ask the doctor for more since my first psychiatrist prescribed me various medications until we got it write, but so many doctors (Kaiser, Oasis) make people feel inferior, or they clearly think they can morph your medication so that they get a kickback or they perhaps they can diagnose you in a visit even though you clearly stated - after waiting to make eye contact for absolute human contact - you have worked some ten years to get these meds straight and you know the laws (you worked at the Department of Regulatory Agencies for the state pharmacy board and your job was to read it for clarity) so what in the hell was I thinking when I ate the last piece of no fucking way in hell? I guess I should have known it all along.
But I wrote a song that made things better for me.
I like to write songs.
I like to recycle bottles in Spain by throwing them down those 50 foot recycling stations. I like that shit.
Going to see James Hunnicutt at the Rockaway Tavern tonight with Bread and his gang of thieves. We are intrigued by the positive press that he is so swept away by. James, is, essentially my soul brother of a musical idealistic culture; therefore I have to go whether I have doubts about this level of spirituality or not. But I think it's important to get up and check yourself out in that mirror.
Cleansing
After that time I started to figure out the difference between right and wrong, sometimes days were not much different.
*Worst Day Ever 2011*
Always I imagined that 2011 was going to be a problem as long as this moral compass continued to direct my choices. But despite my puritan beliefs and cock-eyed optimistic approach, I would be looking for something better.
The worst part about being dumped for a douche-bag, is that I have to finish that statement.
Jeez, quit sneaking up on me like that, you silly willpower!
It's smarter to be lucky than it's lucky to be smart.
-King Charles in Pippin
111
"I was hoping someone would explain it to me." I expected much less. And as the old adage goes, what you expect of someone or something, is what you'll get.
Every day is my lucky day.
Well we played a gig outside the big Crush game to a huge crowd of people who really seemed interested, but it turns out that they didn't speak English.
The revolt
The revolt lasted no time at all, but I was doubtful that it would have no lasting impact. The strays would keep growing older and the mistakes would never see the learned; we were colorless and plentiful, and we slept because our eyes were weary of the sun; you remembered me until the day you died, then I didn't feel your love. That was what the projection of the impact provided, and I know the combined words sought a way to paper and some were never useful to others.
Authors are writers who finish their works - so I was forcefully semi-educated by one influential non-informant this past week, so I packed up my creativity and self-inflicted phrases into a story - one authored and had the parts which would take that plot and stamp it a "piece."
Certain that I would quickly vocabularize my opinion clearly for lack of silence due to a formula of ideas succeeded by psychological capture.
Wendy Clark Band (formally Tequila Mockingbird) at the Little Bear Saloon
Wendy Clark Band (formally Tequila Mockingbird)
Thursday, July 25, Wendy and the gang will be performing at one of the best live entertainment venues in the Colorado Rockies, at the legendary LITTLE BEAR SALOON at 7pm.
Little Bear Saloon
28075 Highway 74
Evergreen, CO 80439
The cast will include: Wendy, Rob, Oscar Pop PLUS...
-> Local axe slinger extraordinare
-> Rocking the 5-string low end
Little Bear online:
http://www.littlebearsaloon.com
https://www.facebook.com/littlebearsaloon
21+ ID Req - $4
And thanks for your support as always!
Cheers!
Keep up with us at our new blog: http://wendyclarkblog.wordpress.com
Cool With Colfax with Tequila Mockingbird, Denver
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Happy New Year! New show for 2013 with our comrades! Scene Wars Collective and Tequila Mockingbird LLC present: COOL WITH COLFAX Lineup: I'm A Boy https://www.facebook.com/imaboyrock Tequila Mockingbird https://www.facebook.com/tequilamockingbirdmusic The Gones http://www.reverbnation.com/thegones Champagne Charlie https://www.facebook.com/champagnecharliemusic Hosted by the lovely and talented Betsy Lay. The Pit Stop is a fun and lively pub with two free parking lots adjacent to the building. They have a friendly staff and an outside smoking partio. It's a fun place! Hosted by Betsy Lay 7 PM 21+ 5$ admission |
Happy 2013 and My Resolutions and such
2012 was no friend of mine with exceptions, of course, many but I didn't see any hope for anyone. I saved a life and played with my band at The Taste of Colorado and The Hard Rock, I sold out a ton of Chris Daniel's shows, but these things carried a price tag of my own self-destructive mind and I had multiple, non-stop panick attacks and lost faith in the music business a time or two, and considered ways to make up for my past and my choices of trust and people who are not who you thought they were, and they were a part of you.
Got an iPhone 4s and a computer from the boss.
Got myself in trouble with some people who don't like me - was informed I was now in a higher social status of a person who has their own gaggle of "Haters". Still not fond of the gun laws due to scary dudes and a chick or two I let myself get sabotaged by. Actions and non actions. I had my share of them.
Looking ahead.
Focus even when you want to do anything but that. Motivation is easy if you do it by habit. Elevate this Panic Problem by keeping busy and out of trouble with generally what your mind lets itself keep telling itself to do something. Open mouth, solve problem. Wake up and listen. I resolve to totally change my life. I will blog about it daily. That has to be the ritual to rid myself of the anxiety.
Kids, it is still there amidst any medication. It is genetic. It is terrible if you were me for the past year or so.
But I have it all now - except my own wealth or steady job. But find me a boss who pays me what I'm worth - and the usual demise was the result of my termination. Then I ran out of my unemployment insurance. I mean, come on! I was depressed.
Today I got my meds and they are a bit difficult to get used to. I will be taking them like I have a 8-5 job starting Friday. Tonight may last forever. Bloody hell. But I am missing my family again, thinking about how much we may have if everyone stays healthy and sees each other more often. Seems easy except for the distance to Spain and money and babies.
After Dad's cancer amd I instinct to people's very ritualistic structure in their daily swagger through the day, casually, As long as he stays well, I will resollve to live up to the expectations / perceptions that I see in other people's eyes and expect nothing but what I ask for, and take nothing but what I need.
I will be in my LiveJournal leaning about my prior adventures.
If this feeds to my Wordpress, someone please advise.
Here's to life in the future. Welcome to 2013.
Tequila Mockingbird and Friends @ The Toad Tavern FRI 1/20
- Tequila Mockingbird flies South to Littleton to The Toad Tavern for a 9pm set of their trademark 120-proof Whiskey Roots Rock - high-energy, catchy, sarcastic, upbeat, and genre-bending original music.
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- The lineup includes awesome local bands featuring some soul, some country, some powerpop, and some blues, mixed with a few covers.
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- Music starts at 7pm!
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- Here's the lineup:
- JJ & the Kharma
- Gary Bragg
- Tequila Mockingbird
- I'm a Boy
- The Sonic Archers
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- 21+ ID Req
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- Tickets are $6/$4 with discount ticket(s).
- Discount tickets can be printed out here: http://bit.ly/toadtaverntix
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For some dizzle-dazzle, please visit our E-Flyer: http://bit.ly/tequilatoad01-20-2010
Tequila Mockingbird "Mostly Unplugged" Acoustic Show at the Paris Wine Bar 11/23
Tequila Mockingbird "Mostly Unplugged" Acoustic Show at the Paris 11/23
We will be performing a sophisticated concoction of acoustic originals at our "Mostly Unplugged" Acoustic Show at The Paris Wine Bar in downtown Denver. No Cover charge!
8:30pm - JJ & the Kharma
9:30pm - 12am - Tequila Mockingbird
1549 Platte St, Denver, CO 80202
8:30pm 21+ NO COVER
Ambiguity and Madness
...above and beyond the world and it's webs and nets global cyber spaces and intricate algorithmic....
Warning:
If you don't have to read every sentence once or twice, this story is not meeting the style I am rendering.
No, I never, never put much thought nor gained any peace of mind in the lline whriten Goethe, "Alles nhae werde ferry," or everything near becomes distant. He was speaking of twilight and
blindness.
No, I never put much thought into ambiguity because I feared madness.
I removed myself from the situation at hand. I took inventory of the moment. I wondered if the moment took inventory of me.
Tilly Bryce was riding her moped down Williams Street on the sidewalk when I began to get anxious. She was surely supposed to ride on the street, but I heard from her ex-beau, Stev, while we were
sipping Starbucks we had found in a tray on the top of an Oldsmobile in the Chevron dealership lot, that Tilly had recently been convicted of her third DUI and was not to operate a moter vehicle
until some certain amount of time, but she did not consider many laws to apply to her, especially since her family was wealthier than someone like me had any idea to try to describe - even to
myself - so I just nodded my head and told Stev that she was going to go to jail.
Today went well. The events of the day went well in terms of the turnpike to hell was as smooth as could be expect imagined like a perfect trainwreck.
The morning sushine was our timebomb and we revolted as the rays were in demand, regardless of what has happened so much sooner or later.
The revolt, on the other side (so to speak), lasted no time at all, but I was doubtful of the fact that it had no lasting impact. The strays would keep growing older and the mistakes never would
see the leaned; we were all colorless and plentiful, and we slept because our eyes were of the sun, you remembered me until the day you died, then I didn't feel your love. That was projection of
the impact that was and I knew the combined words were sought by some and were never useful to others.
Authors are writers who finish their works - so I was semi-educated by a few by some influential non-informant this past week and so I packed up my creativity the nself-inflicted a story line - I
was an author and had the parts which would take the plot and stamp it as a "piece."
Okay, I said, "I can take a joke." I began to shuffle down the opposite direction of the atrium corridor and I began to focus on a new plot, but I needed a new persona first, then the intangible
and it's obscurities would be a natural consequence.
In an effort to prove the power of the meaning of words, I will launch my latest metaphysical awareness campaign: Speaking in one-word sentences. And as I waited for my mom to pick me up from
school I was reading an essay written by a Hawaiian clown who used to teach French Revolutionary Architecture but decided to write in order to teach and he wrote well for a clown I suppose - as I
waited the notion struck me between the lines that this constant quest to transcend the shallow traditional surface of society and judgment, I was not operating inside the function of my mission
to master world domination.
The second time I was administered mouth-to-mouth recsessitation was the second time it wasn't necessary, and was the event that spurred me to embark immediately to see a specialist.
I always thought of myself as the dangerous type - mentally, obviously.
But it's like all the times I thought too much about the aforementioned equations. A house and a home are not going to solve my problems. I don't have any problems, and surely I don't need a
house and a home to prove that I need something else to think about.
Mad Liberations
Mad?
I stepped out of the Mad Libs factory and into oncoming ___________ (plural nouns).
My ________ (insulting insult with italics) cell phone ______________ (past tense verb) and my new _____________________ (adjective) began to _______________________ (verb) and _________________ (boy's name) didn't care which _____________________ (Proper Noun) the road took because we had a lot of _____________________ (type of beer) and even more ______________________ (another type of substance). We pulled the car over because _____________ (first name of a Tequila Mockingbird member) was vomiting like a __________________ (type of personality disorder.
For those about to rock...
This isn't a test. This is it. Good luck, losers; good luck, winners. The gun will fire - then you haul ass to the finish line. If you finish first, you are the fastest. If you finish second - well, take a wild guess.
Mad?
I stepped out of the Mad Libs factory and into oncoming ___________ (plural nouns).
My ________ (insulting insult with italics) cell phone ______________ (past tense verb) and my new _____________________ (adjective) began to _______________________ (verb) and _________________ (boy's name) didn't care which _____________________ (Proper Noun) the road took because we had a lot of _____________________ (type of beer) and even more ______________________ (another type of substance). We pulled the car over because _____________ (first name of a Tequila Mockingbird member) was vomiting like a __________________ (type of personality disorder.
These are pictures from the fourth tailgate of the year at the Destroyers vs. Crush game at Pepsi Center in Denver, CO on March 25th, 2006.
http://web.mac.com/zepfan00/iWeb/2006/Destroyers%20@%20Crush_files/slideshow.html?slideIndex=28
http://web.mac.com/zepfan00/iWeb/2006/Destroyers%20@%20Crush.html
Ironically, my dream job was not.
I am back on the market again; I'm a writer-at-large, a web consultant and Wix designer, Wordpress smith, editor, proofreader, English and Computer Science classroom teacher and tutor, social media marketing guru, brand journalist, singer/songwriter, professional musician, video editor, webmaster, blogger, Dreamweaver, photographer, graphic designer - fighting disease and crime in the Denver metropolitan area, on-call, online, onsite and portable since 1995.
Fantastically, I have already received some calls from posting my resume on Monster, CB, etc., and my portfolio is finished. I will post it for your and my amusement by midnight.
It's been a good year for bad days.