I am retiring zachobbs.blogspot.com. With the exception of Adrianna Vara, I get tired of things pretty easily and this blog has just been more of the same. http://staynegative.tumblr.com will be the new home anything stupid I write, but I cant promise anyone how often that will be.

tour is over again

November 3rd – Tallahassee, FL
If we were going to make a DVD about this tour, the first thing the very first thing you would hear over a black screen before anything else happens would be a sound clip of tonight’s soundguy saying “I’m just going to forget about micing the amplifiers because they are loud as fuck.”

November 4th – Outside Prattsville, AL
10:00am: Wake up in the bus in Tallahassee, FL. Feel sick.
10:45: Stop at Burger King. House 1st BK Veggie Burger of the day.
11:00: Start drive to Birmingham.
1:30pm: Stop to investigate smoke coming out of rear passenger side wheel well. Chalk smoke up to overworking breaks with such a heavy load.
4:01: Bus loses all engine power. Pull over. Regardless of gear, bus wont move. Call Triple A.
4:15: Kyle and Chris decide to hitchhike to finish tour. Start walking with a sign reading only “BHM” attached to their bag.
4:18: Within eyesite, Chris and Kyle get picked up and are on their way.
5:00: Matt gets things worked out with Triple A, it will take two tow trucks to get IZ to Smyrna. 1 to get from mile marker 191 on I-65N to Bremen, GA, and another to get from Bremen, GA to Smyrna. We are told the first truck is on its way, I decline my parents offer to come pick up myself and Jeff Claxton.
6:15: Matt gets a call saying the first two truck drove past us and said he couldn’t tow IZ because of its size. We never saw this towtruck.
6:30: I call Albert and ask him if he would be willing to pick Jeff Claxton and I up from Bremen, GA, in order to make things a littler easier for everyone. He agrees to.
7:15: Towtruck arrives, IZ gets lifted and we all pile in and leave mile marker 191.
7:50: Stop at a truckstop so TowTruck driver and fill up of fuel. While getting out Matt notices more smoke from rear tire well. They investigate while I eat my 2nd BK veggie burger of the day.
8:30: We stop again to investigate smoke. Matt states that he would like for IZ to be on a flatbed as opposed to rear wheel towing. While they talk, I deicde to walk off the side of the road to take a piss. Admits the pitch black side of the highway I fall into a 3 foot deep creek on my back, soaking my jeans, wallet, cellphone, hoodie t-shirt. I change into workout shorts and a new t-shirt in the bus. Forcibly restrain meltdown.
9:15: We pull over, yet again and stop at a gas station to get lubricant for back axel. First store didn’t have any, second store did.
10:00: After aquiring and applying grease to back axel, we get back on I-65 N.
10:25: There is a very loud pop coming from the bus. We pull over, tons of smoke keeps piling out of the rear wheel well.
10:30: After a fire extinguisher makes an appearance, we determine that a tire blew, which was caused because of the problems we have been having with the back axle. Towtruck driver wants to take us to the next exit, Matt refuses. I change into my backup jeans in the bus, pack everything into my bags.
10:40: Borrow Matt’s cellphone (mine is dead) and ask albert if he will pick us up somewhere south of Birmingham. He agrees and gets on the road, I tell him I’ll call him within an hour and a half with a specific location to get us.
11:20: IZ is off the towtruck. A flatbed is called in. Towtruck driver offeres to take Claxton and myself up one exit (exit 238, meaning out whole travel was just shy of 50 miles).
11:40: Claxton and I are dropped off at a Waffle House. Order Coffe, Diet Soda and hashbrowns. Charge cellphone. Wait.
12:45: Albert picks us up from Waffle House.
3:00am: Arrive at Albert and Claxtons house in Decatur.
3:15am: Adri picks me up from Albert and Claxtons
3:30: Arrive at Adrianna’s house.

Matt didn’t make it to Smyrna until 3 in the afternoon.


Tour is emphatically over.

fair is fair

October 29th – Gainesville, FL
Pre Fest at 1982. Nothing interesting to say at all. I am glad the Fest only happens once a year

October 30th – Gainesville, FL
Adrianna made it safely into town and I am incredibly excited about Girlfriend Fest. I think I am going to like the idea of being showered and asleep every night by two AM. Getting too old for the Fest.

October 31st – Gainesville, FL
When I get home I will start a band called Burners. We will play one show and record one seven inch. I will do vocals and facewalk the whole crowd.

November 1st – Gainesville, FL
Our show was better attended this year than last, but the rowdy factor was turned down quite a bit. I offered to work as a “bouncer” during O’Pioneers!!!, Bomb the Music Industry and Defiance, Ohio because the kids were getting so rowdy. I am much more interested in authentic and positive DIY and spaces for bands to perform, and preserving these spaces from a bunch of drunk, stupid punk kids than I am about seeing bands I don’t particularly care for. I’m still glad the Fest only happens once a year.

November 2nd – Lake City, FL
The Motel 6 in Lake City , FL seems infinitely smaller that our bus. I walked a mile to Moes and sat there for half an hour talking to my mom on the phone just to get some space from my tour mates. Its not that I don’t like them, its just hard to have to spend every second with someone, it gets to the point where someone’s voice is enough to put you in a cranky mood. Tour is over in 5 days. Kinda happy about that. I’m almost 25. Not sure how I feel about that.

Pt. 2

October 25th – Fern Park, FL
Matt Mose hates vegetables and doesn’t like most meats (…). Kyle Knight will eat anything but bananas and watermelon. I don’t eat meat, but will eat a lot of different vegetables. Oliver usually prefers foods that aren’t meat and Chris doesn’t seem to mind any food that much. Claxton works at a Pizza place and likes things customized and complicated. Ordering pizza for the 6 of us is literally impossible.

October 26th – Sarasota, FL
For the record, and I am not going to say this again, but writing a record about Moby Dick is infinitely less silly that writing about Vikings. There is absolutely not way to argue about this, there is no debate, it is just a simple solid fact of life.

October 27th – Sarasota, FL
If I was interested in DJs and Dance bands and going to a venue to watch dancy pop bands and DJs perform, I suppose I would be a little bummed out by Mose Giganticus too.

October 28th – Sarsota, FL
The reason Paranormal Activity is such a horrifying film is because it takes all of the elements of the Blair Witch Project and Cloverfield that totally sucked (Never seeing the ghost or carnage or seeing the monster too much respectively) and fixed them. There is absolutely nothing you can do to protect yourself when you are asleep, especially from a goddamn ghost. Emphatically the most terrifying movie I have seen in the past decade, and I wish Adrianna was here to watch it with me, even though I know there is no way I could ever force her to watch this movie. Still the idea of her vehemently resisting seeing this movie with me is something I miss the hell out of.

I miss my dogs, too.

FestQuest Pt 1 of.....

October 19th – Atlanta, GA
At what point does a band stop being from Philadelphia and start hailing from Atlanta?

October 20th – Greenville, SC
Club Escape either once was, or might currently still be a strip club. There are cages for GoGo dancers on either side of the stage and no less than three stripper poles. This is what my life has come to.

October 21st – Athens, GA
We nickel and dimmed our way into about 30 gallons of decent grease. Being able to travel for free certainly has its disadvantages that no one really considers…when you fill up your car from QuickTrip, their isn’t just a huge bucket of gasoline that you have to suck out, filter, and put in your tank all the while getting it all over yourself, your clothes and every last possession you own. On top of that, the band Music Hates You just made me feel like the biggest poser ever. Some gnarly dudes getting some brutal sounds out of some bullshit amps. Its like in all those kids sports movies where the shitty underdog team takes on the real polished team, and even though they might not always win, at least the underdog put on a hell of a fight. That’s kind of how I feel about their amps versus my amps, and I am incredibly sad that I have put this much thought into a metaphor involving goddamn amplifiers.

October 22: - Charleston, SC
4:00am: Arrive in Atlanta. Pack, process oil.
4:45am: Arrive at Ethel St. Kiss girlfriend, cuddle, set alarm to wake up at 8:50, plan to hit the road at 10:30
5:15am: Sleep
9:35am: Awake. Drink soda, drive to Smyrna, load bags in IZ, awaken travelers.
11:30am: Leave to pick up Claxon and Kyle
12:00ish: Pick up Kyle and Claxton, head towards Charleston
6:50pm: Arrive in Charleston. Find Upperdeck Tavern, which is down a narrow hallway and up a large, narrow flight of stairs.
7:15pm: Sigh profoundly. Start loading in gear, fully knowing that within an hour it all has to come back out
7:45pm: Mose Giganticus
8:15pm: the Emotron
9:15pm: Load gear back into bus.
9:20pm: Start looking for oil
11:45pm: Actually score some oil, after making several stops and destroying a roof rack in the process
1:15am: Shower
2:30am: Sleep on a couch about 6 inches too short

October 23rd – Jacksonville, FL
The King of the South, Big Dunn, is a majestic creature. His band sounds like what Latterman would have sounded like if they decided to not use those pesky guitars and basses and simply settled for keyboards. I actually don’t know why I would use the word pesky in that situation…two dudes playing posi-punk on keyboards is a much more daunting task than on guitars.

October 24th – Fern Park, FL
I speant this entire off day at my computer, telling myself I need to write more and wishing I could read Chuck Klostermans new book. All day I named the first book I want to write several times, never really settling on anything (Stay Negative: Essays, Stories and Memories from a Bitter Asshole is the best I can come up with). I have been awake for 15 hours and these are the only words I muster before going to sleep and inevitably have Matt Mose snuggle a little to closely to me before I wake back up

Happiness isn't writing on your phone, that's for sure.

Sometimes I wonder if their is no such thing as happiness. Maybe happiness is something that exists for most people in the world, but as I get closer and closer to being "old," I'm starting to think that the only feelings I am able to feel are simply raw passions. I understand hurt, because I know how it feels to be hurt...all I have to do is think about one simple thing and I instantly understand hurt. I know sadness too, because when I think about sad things, I instantly feel sad. When I think about things that would normally constitute as something that should make me feel happy...I feel nothing.

Happiness is a short term emotion, it's something you strive for and work to maintain. If someone were to give me $100 I would not feel happy about it; The instant emotion that comes from positive aspects of life isn't happiness - they are simply joy or excitement. Happiness is a condition more than emotion, it's more like a state of being. When I was a kid and my parents got me every last gift I wanted, I wasn't happy, I was joyfull and full of Christmas cheer, but these things didn't make me happy. The older I get the more I start to think that happiness isn't something you can feel at all, it's more just inflated contentness.

My problem is that if I can't define something, I can't believe in it. The reason I wonder if happiness is real is the same reason I don't believe in God, Satan, or the 2009 Atlanta Falcons, and that is all because I have no proof that any of these things are real (and in the case of the Atlanta Falcons, I have no proof their Defensive Line exists, and, after all, offense wins games, but defence wins titles). I understand love, and I know the feeling I get when I think about the girl laying next to me is love, and I enjoy LITERALLY every secon we spend together, I'm not sure if having this in my life is happiness. Listen, I am not saying that I'm not happy, I am saying that I don't think happiness, the emotional idea of being happy for a long amount of time even exists at all.

I think I provoke myself into feeling upset about things simply because it's a raw, visceral emotional experience. I like to stay upset about things because then I am actually feeling something, and can usually quantify that experience (usually by how hard I punch my steering wheel or how many Park songs I may be listening to). But happiness just feels like nothing. Happiness doesn't make me feel good, but it doesn't bring me down; it doesn't give me hope but it doesn't make me want to strangle myself with my belt either. Happiness is just there and it's existence in my life is often pretty questionable.

Just like the 2009 Atlanta Falcons

Things I Could Write About
- How Atlas, the new puppy, is much like having a young child
- The possibility of renting a loft with Adrianna
- Touring around the corner
- How American it feels to hate my job less than a month after getting it
- Some metaphorical bullshit about the Atlanta Braves
- Not booking for WonderRoot anymore and how the experience changed my view on punkrock/music.
- The Fest is around the corner, so there's that.

Things I Will Write Write About Tonight
- ............

2:41

I have been having some serious trouble sleeping recently. Whether it is due to the stress of a new puppy or the complete lack of any kind of real stress, my idea of how sleep should be involved in my life and sleeps idea of how it should be involved in my life are never matching up. For most of college I took over the counter sleep medication to fall asleep, and tonight i am probably going to have to do that again. I hate sleep. I hate the idea that my body feels like it needs to sleep. I hate that when I fall asleep, all I want to do is sleep. I hate that 1/3 of my time of this planet will be devoted to nothing but blackness, nothingness, and the occasional visual manifestation of my sub-conscious. But more than that, I hate that, since I do have to sleep, I can never fucking get there when my girlfriend is ready to go to bed. We have been together for the gestation period of a human fetus, and of all the nights we have spent together I would be shocked if she has stayed up later than me more than 3 times. 

My body shuts down, but all i can do is lay awake, tossing turning thinking tossing turning turning tossing turning thinking and tossing. Nothing good comes of a sleep depraved mind at 3 in the morning, where there is nothing to stimulate it but everything that you dont like in the world. I've spent so much time focusing on positivity, and wanting to surround myself with a positive atmosphere and people who are doing and creating positive things that i forgot that I am, apparently, so morose that people find it hard to believe that I am "very funny." If positivity is something I am so concerned with then why do I dwell on, well, everything negative and not focus on all this supposed positivity? You know why?

Because we all want to be something we're not, and at 2:35 in the morning, these are the only things my tired mind will concern itself with: all the things I am not and all the things I can't change. 

What I do when I can't sleep.

I dont think I have ever written anything in here that doesn't have to do with either sports or music/playing in bands/touring. I think that is why I havent posted anything in here recently, or at least not as often...I litterally have nothing left say about any of these subjects; I dont give a shit about Blink-182's reunion tour, I still think Mastodon is a good band, and I high fived myself when I heard that David Ortiz used steroids. There is nothing going on in my life that is of any substance or is anything that I think qualifies as "interesting," and certainly not worth reading. I'd rather spend my time watching the Office and not looking for a new job than post anything on here about sports, music, or anything in my life that will ultimatley bore me to tears. I tried writing a short story I had outlined a while ago and it turned out to be so depressing that I didnt feel like working on it...creating something depressing when you don't think you are all that depressed is a strange feeling. It'd sort of be like (in a totally exact opposite kind of way) if Conor Orbest tried to write a posi-punk record...it's just confusing and scary.

The interesting thing is that there is nothing interesting happening in my life right now, yet I am still typing. Which is sort of the whole ethos of "blogging."

The internet has really sort of thrown culture into a weird sort of tailspin. Their is literally no aspect of life and culture that cannot be immediately consumed, which is a lesson Erin Andrews learned the hardest of hard ways. In the next 65 seconds I could Tweet a 140 character idea, thought, pun or antidote, and it is available for immediate consumption. Facebook and Twitter and Myspace and Blogger and Tumblr all give the average person (present party included) the chance to say whatever is on their mind at any given point in time during the day. If I wake up at 6:48 in the morning and want to tell everyone that my girlfriend steals the sheets from me (1) or that my cat is the worst possible animal to try and share a room with (2), then those thoughts can be immediately put into the public sphere and immediately consumed at any given second by anyone who thinks that my life is at all interesting. Any aspect of my life can be put on the web for anyone to read, whenever they want, and interpreted however they want.

So does that mean that my life is important?

The answer is, of course, no. Sure life is what you make it and our lives are all important to the people around us and the world we create for ourselves, but in the grand scheme of things, just because I have something to say and it can be immediately consumed, that does not mean there is any merit to anything I have to say.

The problem with the Internet, blogs (both micro and regular) is that it allows the average person who has nothing interesting to say to feel special. Soccer and Blogs work and exist on the same level...they allow the vocal majority (kids who arent good at any other sport and people who really cant write all that well) to compete on an even playing field. Comparing any blogger to Keruac would be like comparing the 2008 Columbus Crew (3) to the 2008 Pittsburgh Steelers. It's just fucking unfair. But the beauty of blogs and soccer is that everyone is virtually equal, and everyone gets a chance to play goalie. Their is no hierarchy or meritocracy to blogs and Tweeters, they all simply exist, and grasp for some kind of celebrity or notoriety (not unlike David Beckham). Their is a reason that bullies exist in the world, and it's not just to make fun of the fat kids. Culture needs the hierarchy, and literacy cannot exist without a meritocracy.

The single worst thing the internet has done for culture is that it has allowed the average joe to feel special. People who have nothing interesting to say, no good stories to tell, and live a fairly mundane, average life can now cleverly disguise their Tweets and blogs in a manner that completely fabricate their existence. Reading blogs has become the new sitcom...reading any blog post from anyone i went to highschool with is not unlike watching an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bell Air. The posts have no linear narrative, they are simply a series of episodic posts that just existence within themselves, have very little in the way of thematic elements, and are ultimately just there. No one is breaking new ground, we're not contributing new idea's we are just doing.

People who are paid to write are paid to write for a reason, and it has nothing to do with their ability to post sotires in 140 character tweets. Literacy is changing every year in our world, and I'm honestly starting to think that when my kids take a "history of the english Language" course when they are in school, a major topic will be how literacy eventually made the jump from quality to quantity.

I know that anything I have just said will never make a dent in the world. But i least I understand that. Putting my puppy in his crate and finally falling asleep without waking Adrianna up is a much bigger concern of mine than anything that happens in the Blogosphere (4).

========================================
1) She does not, by the way. Habitually, I am the blanket-stealer
2) I have, unfortunately, done this
3) unquestionably the worst sports franchise team name in the history of professional sports.
4) I am so bummed that "blogosphere" does not register as a mis-spelled word. So. Fucking. Bummed.

In 7 months I will turn 25 years old, meaning I have been alive for a quarter of a century, meaning that I have roughly been alive for one third of my life. In 7 months I will have used up a third of my time on this earth. I'm consistantly worrying about what I have to show for 25 years of being on this planet.

Last year I embarked on an epic journey that spanned 8 countries and too may American cities to count. I felt such a sense of accomplishment knowing that I could sustain myself while being so far from home and be perfectly happy and content in this totally different type of environment and style of living. August 27 - December 8th last year made ever miserable second of 2008 leading up to it worth dealing with.

Right now, as I plead with myself to just be sleepy, all I can think about is what I have to show for this year, what will I have to say about 2009 when in wraps up here in a couple months, and, more importantly what will I have to say about myself on April 1st 2010.

Idea for a short story:

The main character is a guy who came in 2nd place in a comeptive reality TV show, not unlike Real World Road Rules Challenge. He was clearly motivated and capable to win the final event, but just somehow let it slip through his fingers as the equally capable but slightly less motivated cther contestant ended up pulling out the win. The story will start after he has filmed the series, and we'd pick up with him as he is preparing to watch the season finale with some friends. After the show airs he does the occasional interview with the Local ABC or NBC affiliates, people recognize him regularly. Everywhere he goes someone approaches him, and he modestly basks in the limelight. As the story progresses, things naturally begin to fade...less people notice or care about him, less opportunities are presented. He will get offered a job hosting a small market extreme-sports show that will fail and get canceled after only 2 or 3 episodes. About half a year after the story starts he will compete in the Reality Show he was a part of's "All Star" series, where is is eliminated very quickly. He will constantly grasp at straws trying to fill the void that he has lost, and in the process will lose every last little bit of interest and passion he has in the world. Everything becomes dull, nothing matters, and because of his isolation in his miniature celebrity world, when it all fades he admittedly feels no emotion for anything other than longing to feel something.

I also think id like for him to accidentally kill somebody, but i cant figure out that metaphor yet.

tour is over

July 5th – Williamstown, NJ
Yet another run the shit down house show to chronicle in the places I have played. I spent some time today lurking kids I went to highschool with and I wonder what they think about me if they check my facebook page. They probably don’t, seeing as how I haven’t checked in on any of these people in years. But I wonder if they look at my list of shows played and think “Man, 6 years later and Zac Hobbs is still playing in bands and still playing house parties.” This doesn’t bother me at all though, I think if I never make it any further than this, I would rather know what a real, visceral musical experience was with a community of obnoxious posi-punks that are committed to something other than school and money. Tonight was the last show of tour and looking back its been one of the better experiences I’ve had on the road.

July 6th – Philadelphia, PA
Packing things, getting ready for an early as shit plane ride home. When tour is over, it’s time for tour to be over, and I can’t wait to not have to sleep on a couch or a shitty futon or floor.

blogblogblogblog

June 30th – Columbus, OH
One of my favorite memories of Columbus, OH is that they have a Moes that stays open until 4 in the morning. Little did I realize that in the two years since the last time I was in this town, Moes has closed and I had to settle for some bullshit Chipotle. We are playing tomorrow night at a punk house that has been a punk house since the 80’s. I have no problem with punk houses, I just wonder what life will be like if/when punk houses and punx are no longer a part of it.

July 1st – Columbus, OH
Tonight we played like it was our first time playing together. I forget, why do I like Columbus so much?

July 2nd – Morgantown, WV
We’re driving to Morgantown, WV. I am sure there is an aesthetic and welcoming aspect to living anywhere in West Virginia, and I am at least relatively certain that those aspects have to do with mountains, but I cant pin-point them. It’s not pretty, the people are sweet but awkward. I feel like music is half a decade behind here. Everything is cheaper though, though. I bought 2 soda’s, a pack of cookies, some gummi bears and a bag of BBQ chips (which turned out to be the only thing I ate that day) for less than 6 dollars at Rite Aid. We’re driving to Morgantown, WV…I feel like I don’t fully understand West Virginia

July 3rd – Harrisburg, PA
We collected 100 gallons of pretty clean permission grease today…before that I woke up on a shag carpeted floor and can feel the effects of not taking care of my knees. All my bones ache as if they are 15 years older. Maybe I should stop drinking so much diet soda and teach someone else how to load the bus for once.

July 4th – Philadelphia, PA
I walked just short of 8 miles today, getting from place to place and seeing friends and getting food. Jon Loudon invited me to his friend Sean’s, which turned out to overlook one of the biggest 4th of July gatherings in the nation. I never really enjoyed the Roots, but after seeing them perform I have a newfound respect for what they do. If all hip hop was as dense as the Roots, I would never listen to anything else. One thing I realized today is that Philadelphia has a very distinct smell that I have come to enjoy very much. I really love my time in this city, but, to a certain extent, I am glad that I don’t live here. I would hate for the excitement of returning to this city to fade for me. The backyard that backs up to 409 is having a DJ’d party and I have heard no less than 3 Michael Jackson songs since I have been back here. I am sick of hearing about the king of pop. My opinions on the man have not changed now that hes a corpse.

Adrianna and I didn’t get along very well today. I don’t worry about it too much though…not because I don’t take our arguments seriously – I get incredibly upset when things aren’t sweet – but because it just makes me realize how much I love her. We have been an official couple now for almost 8 months, but we have been important parts of each others lives for almost 14 months. Arguing, in a sort of strange way, just makes me more excited to see her and to pick her up and spin her around with me. I’ve never been this excited for a 6am plane flight in my whole life than I am for the one that awaits me Tuesday morning.

June 26, 2009 – Philadelphia, PA
It’s like riding a bike for the first time in years…you kind of suck at it at first, but eventually everything starts falling back into place and your hands and head start to synch up and the frets your fingers land on start to hit with 90% or better accuracy. The fact that I never touch my guitar outside of being on tour is starting to show, and I am starting to get worried that this is some kind of foreshadowing of my life. We played what I would consider to be my best “First show of tour” with Mose tonight, with Dan being my 2nd favorite Mose drummer. We have to leave for Skatopia early, so we are all taking naps before we leave at 6 or 7am. I spend most of the evening finishing my book as opposed to sleeping, wishing I would have remembered to order my mom some flowers for her birthday tomorrow.

June 27, 2009 – Rutland, OH
I slept most of the way to Rutland, only coming down from the loft occasionally to eat some bread we brought with us. After an exhaustive travel day we made it Skatopia, which is best described as a world where people whose whole perception of punk rock is the Casualties and NoFX, combined with a certain infield of a NASCAR race feel. People are shooting fireworks everywhere, bonfires are everywhere, cars were set on fire, it is essentially what a 14 year old kid would imagine anarchy to be. The collective mindset of everyone who buys into Skatopia is that of a bratty 13 year old that would rather shoot roman candles at their friends that do anything constructive, never the less positive, with their life. I am almost glad that this place exists in the middle of nowhere, so long as they all stay the fuck away from me.

June 28th – Driving.
Kyle Knight pointed out that I am not a “happy camper” this morning, and he is right - I hate being dirty. I will wear the same shirt for a while and I may go a couple days without showering, but I hate literally being covered in dirt. Some crust punk made fun of me for vocalizing my discontent with being filthy…which I can only assume he thought would somehow diminish my mood or cause me to feel bad about myself. This kid making fun of me for being clean is one of the biggest compliments I can be given. The more and more that I differ from these scumbags, the happier person I am.

We end up staying with some of Matt’s family just outside of Athens, OH.I never want to return to Skatopia again for the rest of my life.

June 29th – Athens, OH
Its almost 3am and I’m not tired. Sometimes I wonder if the only emotion I ever feel is varying degrees of anger. TS said he saw me crack a smile the other day and I really hate that people can count the number of times I have looked happy on one hand, and I equally hate it that the people close to me consider it some kind of novelty to see me present myself as happy or having fun. We spent all day cleaning the bus and all I want to do is eat a fucking burrito.

Show Etiquette for Touring and Local Bands A Like

1. Touring Bands: Unless you are Against Me, Slipknot, Jon Cougar Mellancamp or the Prince of Sudan, you are not doing us any favors (financially or otherwise) by showing up at our space. Please don’t be assholes, a lot of people jumped through lots of varying hoops to put this on for you, the least you could do is not be a dickhole and complain about the sound, stage, accommodations, or payment over 40 dollars.

2. Local Bands: You are not Bad Religion. As much as you may want to be, you are not on Fat Wreck Chords and kids in Japan aren’t rioting at the Virgin MegaStore to get your records. I know the last time you saw Bad Religion play they played for over an hour, but just because Greg Graffin did it, that does not mean that you can. While we are all real excited to hear your NoFX cover(s), lets try and keep this thing under 25 minutes, OK?

3. Touring Bands: Yeah, you are on tour, and that’s awesome. Chances are you might have come through our city once or twice before, and that’s awesome as well, thanks for coming back. But please don’t kid yourself into thinking that anyone here came to see your band, regardless of the label, PR Company, energy drink or religious deity you have backing your tour. Don’t be dicks to the local bands who drew out kids to pay 5 dollars to get into the show, especially since all of that will ultimately go in your gas tank or up your nose.

4. Local and Touring Bands: My band tours with a full PA that includes two Four-Space racks, an 8 space Rack, two 1x15 Main PA speaks on stands, two 1x18 Subwoofers, a guitar full stack, an 8x10 bass rig and a full drumset. Between the three of us, we can set this up and break it all down in under 15 minutes. You should have no problem setting up your backline in that much time. If you have some goofy costume you want to wear while you are playing, that’s cool! How about changing while the band before you is finishing up their set? If you’re jeans are so skin tight that you cant set up your guitar cabs then they are probably too tight to play guitar in anyway.

5. Local and Touring Bands: Hey, playing shows is about hanging out and meeting new people. So how about we watch each other while we play? No? Well, OK, can we at least not leave the venue and show before everyone else has played?

6. Local and Touring Bands: We all have that Ampeg 8x10 bass cabinet, and unless you are Lightening Bolt (google/youtube them, if you don’t know) and need something more, someone man up and let everyone else use his cab. There is no need to have 3 8x10’s sitting around the space.

7. Touring Bands: If you are a ska band, first, please rethink the decisions you have made in defining the sound of your band. Second, if you need three vocal mics (all on stands) and two microphones for your Saxophone and Trumpet players, how about bringing a couple of those things on tour with you? Please don’t assume that every space you play on tour will have a PA system and sound guy that can be compared to whatever venue you played in when you opened for Reel Big Fish last year.

8. Local Bands: Thanks for agreeing to play with this awesome touring band! It really helps them out because no one here really knows who they are. Would it be too much to ask though for you to ask your friends to stick around for the whole show and not leave after you play or not show up after all the other bands have come on? You’re friends can see you any other time you guys want to play in the city, wouldn’t it be beneficial for everyone to watch some new bands?

9. Local and Touring Bands: DIY Light shows are not cool. A couple strands of lights over the drumset? Yeah that’s totally alright and maybe a light or two on top of a guitar cab, that’s totally fine. But please don’t bring smoke machines, Christmas lights, strobe lights and a little weiner kid with a joystick to control it all. As I said before, DIY light shows aren’t cool. They just aren’t and are usually a pain in the ass for everyone involved. If you can't just play in a well lit room and still have your band be fun to watch, well, then, I think we all know where the problem is and it has nothing to do with the lighting.

SPORTS!!

It's hard for anyone to believe this, but I am probably one of the busiest guys to ever have a completely wide-open schedule. It seems as though I never have any real commitment, but still can never find the time in the day to do the things that I really want to do (sleeping two more hours than necessary, listen to Torche’s Meanderthal at an obnoxious volume, sleep some more, sit on my couch watching TiVoed episodes of King of the Hill and America Dad while playing various forms of solitaire, etcetera…). But as I was laying on my couch drinking my (roughly) 5th Diet Coke of the day, there was a slight twinkle in the air that could only be described as one thing: silence. In some kind of freakish, all-the-lazy- Tuesday-afternoon-moons-aligning occurrence, for the first time in over a month I had my basement apartment completely and totally to myself. My girlfriend was at work, and my (sorta) roommate had (sorta) moved out, my dog hadn’t drug a possum in through the doggy door and no cat was running around in, and inevitably falling through, my ceiling tiles. I jolted up, reached for the television remote and turned to chanel 206, where I found the only thing that could satisfy a lazy, the-only-thing-I-have-to-acomplish-for-the-day-is-to-keep-myself-alive kind of day.

Sportscenter.

I love sports. My girlfriend does not. My former housemate did not. But from the second I realized that neither would be around until my ass began to ache from being sat on for too long, I dove head first into the world of sports that hasnt been much more than a fading image in the rearview mirror on the metaphorical road that is the small joys of Zachery Ryan Hobbs’ life.

---------

The 2009 NFL draft is this weekend and I have decided that there is no sporting “event” that I hate more than the NFL draft. There are many “events” that I find to be the sporting equivalent of watching grass grow, Soccer and all of its forms, Men’s indoor Volleyball, Curling, Croquet, Senior PGA, Tennis (Regular and Table), Polo (Water, Equestrian, Elephant, Segway, Golf Cart and yak polo all included), bobsledding and the event they show in the Olympics where the girls and gay guys jump around on a mat with a ribbon tied to a stick, just to name a few, all of which I would endure for hours on end if it meant I would never again have to listen to Mel Kiper and other so-called “Draft Experts” ramble on SportsCenter and PTI about their predictions of who is going to be drafted at what spot, and why they thing one team is fucking up with their picks and another team is getting gold for the price of a bail of hay and a gallon of lemonade.

My biggest complaint is that guys like Mel Kiper are only relevant for three months out of the year, which still seems like entirely too much of a limelight for people whose skill set is so incredibly narrow and specific that all they can do is predict when during the draft that Jason Campell is going to be called to the pro’s. After all the teams have made their moves and picks and all the dust has settled and we go back to waiting something like, 5 fucking months for the first kickoff of the season, Kiper will have a couple days to relish in the spotlight and grade teams on their draft before fading off to do whatever it is that Draft Experts do during the regular season. The problem is though, that for those three months, Kiper is God. He is the end-all be-all of the sports world, which seems to suggest that America just might actually put a little bit too much stock in this whole football thing. With the exception of the NBA draft, there is no other sport in America where we dedicate a whole weekend to highlighting talent that hasn’t actually done anything. We are so enamored with football that we would rather learn about the prospects than watch the NBA playoffs or nine innings of Oakland A’s baseball, and in most cases, would rather watch college players sit in a green room and eat various cheeses than go outside and actually toss the football around. I suppose it isn’t fair to blame all of America’s problems on Mel Kiper, but I sure would like to try. But regardless, these three months of Kiper reigning supreme over the sports analyst world adds very little to his modesty, and since he feels he can accurately predict the future of this upcoming NFL season, he can hold and present himself as one of the most important figures in Sports Commentary, even though he is completely useless for 9 months out of the year and barley worth anything for the 3 months he is relevant.

My real problem with the draft is how much stock everyone seems to put into when a person is drafted. I guess the theory looks good on paper, that the earlier you are drafted the more desirable of a player you are, ultimately reflecting on your talent as a player, but this never actually works in practice. Take for example the 2007 draft, when the Cleveland Browns traded with the Cowboys to nab Brady Quinn as the 22nd pick in the draft. Quinn was predicated to go way higher (almost certainly by Mel Kiper), and the whole sports world was shocked when he was looked over by the 21 other teams and their draft picks. Does this mean that Brady Quinn was the 22nd best football player in all of the 2007 draft? Well, I have certainly heard a lot more about Brady Quinn than JaMarcus Russel over the past 2 years, and certainly have seen more pieces and antidotes about Quinn than any of the 21 players drafted before them. Do you know who Ted Ginn Jr is? Me neither, but apparently he is exactly 13 draft spots better than Brady Quinn. The point of the matter is that everyone is going to be drafted, and the early draft picks that Mel Kiper and everyone else on ESPN.com drool over will probably not make so much as a rustle in the NFL during the 2009 season, but in 7 years or so we will be talking about how some 6th round draft pick ended up becoming a 4 time pro bowler, and would win 3 Super Bowls before he is 30. None of this matter, yet everyone gives a huge elephant sized turd about it all.

OK, so yeah, fuck you Mel Kiper, you are the source of everything that is wrong with America after all.

I shrank, Apparently

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Thinking about becoming a chump.

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dont like sleeping alone. not at all.

Huge sad face.

Well, nothing to do today

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This is going up in the back door of the bus...does this make me a dick?

March 6, 2009 – Mill Hill Saloon (Trenton, NJ)
Jena Berlin is taking my van our for this weekend and while it has been having some problems since it got to Philadelphia, it seems to be running just fine. We drive from Philadelphia to Trenton, NJ and everything runs great, and althought I didn’t know it at the time, this was going to be the last time I would be able to relax and enjoy myself this weekend. The show was sort of enjoyable…in as much as watching a bunch of bands you aren’t interested in play for hours on end. The first band was surprisingly decent, but all and all brought nothing new to the table. The one thing that was cool about them was the fact that of all the bands tonight (with the exception of the Ruining) they are the only band that I am not bummed about their obvious influence. It’s like, they are all way young, but are trying to channel the ghosts of Hot Water Music’s No Division, as opposed to the other bands who were obviously way more stoked on Against Me and The Gaslight Anthem, respectively. In fact, I think young dudes listening to old dude music makes me way more stoked than young dudes listening to young dude music, I guess just because I feel like there is nothing that interesting happening right now in punk rock. I was actually thinking that this band we played with, Let Me Run, is going to get pretty big, and its not because they are a great band (they are a good band, and I think Loudon put it best when he said they are in no way offensive at all – watching them and listening to them play is in no way a chore or unpleasurable, its just not interesting to me), but because the Gaslight Anthem have officially blown up and kids in the scene are looking for the DIY replacement to Gaslight. It’s like when Against Me got huge and everyone starting buzzing about Fake Problems and other little folk bands, proclaiming them as what “against me should have been.” It’s like, you can’t go see Against Me in houses and coffee shops anymore, but you can go the more “authentic” and “DIY” folk punk bands like Fake Problems and O’Pioneers play in houses. When the punx turn their back they will always look for a replacement. Since no one can go see The Gaslight Anthem at a less than 100 capacity venue, they will all clinge to Let Me Run, because they sound enough like Gaslight, and we can still see them in a shitty basement under a New Jersey bar.

March 7, 2009 – Nara Sushi (Richmond, VA)
When Jon and I switch off driving, I realize the van isn’t fixed. We start draining battery life and die the second I get it to Chris from Punknew’s house. We charge it enough to get to a Autozone where I had to buy a battery charger and then get to Nara, where I took the battery out and charged it under a chair at Nara. The show went off flawlessly and its really awesome to come back to a city and to recognize people and have them recognize you. I’ve see that dude Tyler from No Brass every time I have been to Richmond or VA Beach and he is one of the most enthusiastically stoked people ever, and one of the best voices I have heard for such a young kid. Anyway, after the show we drive on straight battery power to the place we were staying and I once again start to charge it. Totally unrelated, I am starting to realize how BORING talking about tour is when nothing interesting is happenng. For instance, aside from the battery issues, after the show we just sat around talking about bullshit till 4am when we went to sleep. Why does anyone think this is interesting?

March 8, 2009 – Peoples Media Center (Washington, DC)
After the time change I go to sleep at 4:30 in Richmond and wake up at 9:45 and drive the van, on nothing but straight batter power, to a Pep Boys 15 miles away from where the van and we were staying. Roy takes care of me and is way bummed that I’m from ATL. I tossed Roy the keys and walked a little over half a mile to a Sheetz where I not only ate the shittiest biscuit in the history of shitty godfuckingdamn biscuits, but I accumulate quite the pile of luggies next to my outdoor table/shire to my misery. After an hour and a half Roy calls me to tell me that my vehicle is ready to be picked up and that its was just a loose battery terminal. Now I can admit that I probably didn’t hook the battery up as tight as I possibly could have using nothing but these shitty wrenches I found in the van, but the van was having these problems long before I had to take our battery out for charging. I try and tell that to Roy, and he tells me he’ll talk to the mechanic, but when I get to Pep Boys he said its ready to roll and that everything checked out. Despite doing a couple tests we still leave Richmond, and, not knowing it at the time, we’re still running on nothing but straight battery power. Want to guess how this one pans out? Well, we get to DC just fine, play a great show and watch kids go bonkers for a yound punk band called Title Fight, and we get ready to roll. Well, as soon as the headlights get turned on, shit gets way hairy. we get just outside of Baltimore and the voltmeter on the dash is starting to crap out on me…the headlights are on just as a formality because they are barley emitting any light at all. We stop at some sheetz esqu place and, of course, the fucking thing dies. Using what little power is left in my jump box, we get enough power to move the van across the street to where I can charge our battery. We get kicked out promptly after and meander up to the Maryland rest stop or something or other. The plan was, since it is 11:15 at night, for the dudes in the Menzingers (the band JB has been playing these shows with) to stop and pick Jon, Dave, Jeff and Justin up, and I was going to charge my battery, and deal with it from there. It just so happens this rest stop/service area also sells batteries, so we get a new battery, follow the Mengzingers and eventually drop the JB dudes off in South Philly. When I get to West Philly, my van dies, again. Im charging my jump box to jump it off and move it the 25 feet it needs to move so that I can finally go to sleep. The van eventually made it to a parking spot in front of 409 in West Philly, where I plan to set it on fire when I return to Philadelphia.

I think one of the reasons I am slowly getting over this/it right now
is because there is never a night where I want to watch four bands
I've never heard of play for half an hour each.

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Tour
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loading the bus
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Fuck my life

The Three Most Idiotically Absurd things I have Done for the Sake of
"Punk Rock"

1. Driven a 1990 Dodge Ram Van from Charlottesville, VA to Atlanta, GA
with virtually no breaks.
2. Driven from Tampa, FL to Atlanta with no power steering.
3. Driven from Richmond, VA to Philadelphia, PA with no working
alternator.

So over it.

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Niiiice.
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Nice to see when the Brotel is being a dick and acting like it's ready
to check out for good.
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There's nothing worse than watching 5 bands play when you are getting
sick and would rather not be watching 5 bands

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Nice
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Titan House
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The brotel is freaking out

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Squid skull
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Its Saturday night and I am watching two guys that are both older than me be high and do nothing but sew. This is how exciting my life has become, and this is what being a touring musician does for you. Also I think I am getting carpal tunnel syndrome because the pain in my right hand and wrist is comparable to that of having an obese woman step on your foot in a sharp high heel. I also feel like my ears stick out like elf ears.

JKK was cleaning out his room today and, for some reason, found a bunch of BOP, TygerBeat and etc kinds of magazines. In this one copy of BOP there is a full page photo of Green Day, back when they were a shitty looking Gilman St punk band. The funny thing is that with the picture there is an article/interview with the band with the sub headline “Looks at the Positive Side.” I wonder if when Green Day’s signed their deal with Reprise Records that their PR guy would throw them some questions from BOP magazine and that they would be in an issue that says they look at the positive side in a magazine that has Jonathan Taylor Thomas on the cover (ad you could enter to win a pair of his shoes, apparently).

And furthermore, I wonder if when they saw their article in BOP magazine did they begin to realize they weren’t some shitty Gilman St punk band anymore?

So I have decided that I love Facebook. Not only does it blow the dicks and tits off of Myspace as a social networking tool, but, and actually way more importantly, its an excellent way to measure your life against people you only slightly know. I don't ever frequent the pages of the people I know very well, but all the kids I haven't spoken to since highschool and I'm all over that shit. My favorite is when kids that were skinny got real fat. I'm just saying.

But anyway, what I mean that is that Facebook exists for people who think they are doing really well in their life to exploit that in front of all the people they know that aren't exceeding in the manner that they are. The kids I went to highschool with are great example of this because their entire pages just exist to flex some kid of muscle...take for instance this on kid who is currently enrolled in Harvard Graduate school. His about me or some shit says "facebook is static, follow my thoughts on twitter" with a link to his Twitter account...but I cant for the life of me figure out what credential, if any, makes me feel like I should give two Chihuahua sized shits about his thoughts and opinions. But thats not the case, because I have an English degree and I know I am not qualified or interesting enough for anyone to get their dicks hard about and sentences I produce. What I am trying to get at is that the kids from my highschool, and anyone on Facebook that thinks they are better than most people, use Facebook to boast their achievements, however minimal. Guess, what, anyone can go to Europe, so, your study abroad pictures arent that impressive. In fact, Europe is so easy to get to that playing in shitty pun rock bands got me there. And I probably had a way better time...have you watched a grown man piss his pants in Le Havre, France? I doubt it.

I dont remember where I was going with all of this. But anyway, as a social experiment i think it would be great if Facebook added a "Income" information option like Myspace...i'd love to see what the Galloway School Alumni do with that.

But, yeah, I leave for Philadelphia the day after tomorrow so I guess I should probably finish all of this shit.

Jena Berlin (September 2008 - Present)
So I met the dudes from JB at the Fest 5...they came through Atlanta a couple times over the next year and I thought they were all sweet dudes. Another thing I was doing in the year that we played with JB a couple times in ATL, i was also finishing up college at KSU. What makes this important is that my whole plan for college was to get done with it and then to spend the rest of my year on tour. About the second time JB came through town i realized that i was about to college and had no fucking plan as to how I was going to spend much time on the road. I emailed Jeff and said if they ever needed a guitar player or a bass player to let me know, and sure as bulldog farts smell bad, Jeff hit me up about playing bass for them in Europe. Its amazing the way peoples idea of you changes when you tell them you went on tour in Europe. I mean, I guess it was cool and all, and a totally different perspective, but also, as I said before, everyone goes to Europe. Going to Europe is the new gay...everyone is doing it.

Mose Giganticus (October 2008 - Present)
the story with Mose is very similar to JB...i was on tour with Die Benny, met Matt Mose, said if he ever needed a guitar player to let me know, and now I am going back to philly next week to play guitar with him and Justin for like, a month and inevitably having everything I own smelling like vegetable oil and making 7 dollars a night.

Take that Galloway School Alumni!

Why I am 24 and live with my parents part 3

So while I was making a cheese quesadilla (and then subsequently dropping it on the ground) I realized that Mexican Food is probably the biggest consistency of my whole life…I’ve been playing in punk rock bands for 10 years, Jim has been cutting my hair for just a hair (ha!) shorter than that, but for as long as I can remember I have really loved Mexican food. I think if it wasn’t for Mexican restaurants I don’t think I could have made the jump from dickhead to vegetarian. Matt Mose and Kylemotron taught me how to make ‘Tour Burritas’ and they are still the only food that I can make that has a less than 10% chance of me fucking it up.

Anyway, back to the reasons as to why I still live in my parents basement. Oh, and by the way I still ate the aforementioned quesadilla. It looked like this:



And that’s not ketchup, its Taco Sauce. But when I was like, 5, my mom use to make Beef Taco’s and I would put ketchup all over them. Fucking gross right?

Anyway, back to those bands...

Die Benny (May 2007 – Present)
So yeah, I nothing crazy happened at our last Die Benny show and I didn’t have to quit, which is awesome because I think Die Benny is probably the most interesting band I have ever been a part of. That’s to say that in Die Benny I can really do whatever the fuck I want on guitar and its all fair game. Shitty two hand finger tapping? Awesome. 90 second pop punk songs that end in a tornado of noise and dissonance? Fuck yea. All encompassing wall of noise made by 11 effects pedals that I don’t really need? You go it. Never before have I been in a band with a group of guys that not only give such a little shit about what people think of them, but also almost go out of their way to do the opposite of what people want and expect out of our band. At our show last night Jeff Honea left his bass at the venue. Just to give you and idea here of how things work.

Mapmaker (March 2008-August 2008)
So Stephen Floyd and I had this idea that we were going to start a band that sounds like Lemuria and ride on Lemuri’s coattails, and success was going to follow. There some old saying about “plans” and “mice” and “men” that I cant remember but was the title of a book (speaking of which, Of Mice and Men is without question the most depressing, unnecessary book in all of English Literature. Not only does it serve no purpose, but there is no theme, no point. Its just sad because sad seems to make it have meaning but in reality writing a book that sad isn’t deep and just makes you look like a real sonofabith), but anyway, this plan was, surprisingly, not as bulletproof as we had expected. Although Stephen and I wrote some very enjoyable songs, we never played one show and never did anything other than record a bunch of songs that have no vocals. In all honesty, Mapmaker hardly qualifies as a band, and I think one of the main reasons why I include it is because it is responsible for producing the only song I’ve ever written where I don’t play one powerchord. Yeah.

It’s late and even though I cant sleep I suppose I should try to since I have to wake up at 6:55. Dogs need food and water and have to piss and shit regardless of when I go to bed.

We’ll continue this boring odyssey soon.

shitting in hands part 2

So it’s like, twenty till four and I am sitting here watching an episode of King of the Hill. This is how I spend my off days…sitting on this couch watching episodes of King of the Hill and sometimes watching Dexter on my computer. In about 3 episodes I will be out of Dexter episodes to watch and I have no idea what the fuck I will do with myself.

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if my boss told me that I didn’t have a ob when I got back from tour. I think if I had to look for a new job, setting aside ideal jobs (anything involving writing, really), I think I would probably still end up with a job that involves a certain level of dog shit. I just read Brendan Kellys blog where he mentions the old saying “You can wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.” Ideally I would love to pay bills and buy a house by writing for some awesome magazine, but I’m sure I’ll just stick to dog shit for a little while.

Anyway, back to the bands I have played in…this is where things start to get interesting. There became a point where playing in one band was not nearly enough so things start to get a little wabbly. Hopefully I can keep this all straight. I was drinking a diet coke when I sat down here, now I can’t find it. Anyway.

Left to Rust (August 2003 – October 2004)
So, Rhys, the drummer for Dead By Summer also played drums for Left To Rust. Rhys was (and still is) a very sweet kid, but was not the best and most reliable drummer so he was kicked out of the band long before anyone informed him of this. So when they finally did tell him that he was kicked out of the band (after he fucked up several times at a show and then made a huge scene outside of Swayzes…apparently one of our friends spilled the beans to him that he wasn’t going to be the drummer of Left to Rust anymore…I think they had been trying out new drummers behind his back...anyway) they moved Andrew Wiggins to drums, Marc from bass to guitar, and I jumped in on bass. Andrew had a problem singing while playing drums with a stationary microphone, so we bought him a $100 headset mic that I still have to this day. This was without question the most dysfunctional, miserable band I have ever been a part of, simply because we wanted to sound one way, Wiggins wanted to sound like something else. We all really liked Small Brown Bike and the Honor System and The Ghost and Wiggins had just begun hanging out with Matt Benard and dabbling with his “creative side.” When Andrew first made a myspace for us, under influences he said “Andrew listens to music that sounds like what Jackson Polluck paintins look like. Zac listens to music that Andrew thinks is fucking terrible.” It should be noted that Andrew Wiggins almost kicked me out of playing in Left To Rust because he was so excited to play with Small Brown Bike but was nervous we wouldn’t be ready…so yeah. Andrew would also re-write my bass lines for me because I guess he hated what I was doing. We played a lot of really good shows but as a whole, being in that band was not any fun for anyone. James and Wiggins both quit the band at least once over Livejournal, just to give you some kind of frame of reference at how shitty all of this was. Wiggins finally quit when he wanted to play in Blame Game, and was famously quoted by Marc and James as have saying the reason he was quitting was because he just wanted to “make art.” I don’t know either.

Benard (October 2004 – Present)
So, when Wiggins quit, Josh from Stranger By Day and No Cigar convinced us to keep playing, and that he should sing. We got Alan from Kama to drum for us and we started playing together in October of 2004, and didn’t play our first real show (without Josh…he moved to Birmingham for Law School and never actually did a show with us) until almost a year later. We played at the Die Benny loft in March 2006 and Nathan became our singer soon there after. I don’t have a lot to say about this band other than we are what we are and it is what it is. I’ve accepted that Benard is never going to be the touring band I want it to be, and I’m OK with that. We’ve played a lot of great shows with some great bands (and one terrible one with Don Caballero) and were (I think) the first band responsible for footprints on the 141 Moreland ceiling. Having said all of that, we have had to cancel a show because one of our members wanted to go to Disney World. Sooooo.

Nature Boy (December 2004 – May 2005)
I think the only reason Benard was able to keep Alan Hamilton signed on to playing our version of punk rock was because I would get him to my house early to play double time punk. You see, Alan Hamilton probably wouldn’t listen to Benard if he wasn’t in Benard, and in order to get him over that hurdle, I had to fill his double time urge. So we started a pop punk band called Nature Boy that was in fact named after “the Nature Boy” Ric Flair. If you don’t know who that is then you obviously didn’t grow up in the south. Google it. We broke up when Paul, our singer, moved to Chicago. We made two recordings and A lot like Punx Named Bob, I hated both of them as soon as we finished them.

Carmine (Novemberish 2006 to May 2007)
So Nathan played in Die Benny and Benard when he started playing guitar for Carmine. Carmine was like Nature Boy, only a lot better. I would write the most absurdly technical pop-punk songs I could, clad with the fastest, most sporadic parts and changes that were feasible, and Nathan and Alan would learn them and play them with me. As far as what I was writing, that was probably the most creative I have ever been. We played some shows as an instrumental band and tried out some singers, but we eventually threw in the towel…and the story oh why we broke up is actually way more entertaining than the story of how we were a band. As I mentioned, Nathan played in Die Benny as well. So did Cameron, Carmines bass player. Now anyone who knows Cameron knows the story behind him, but I would just like to put it out there that I had to tune his bass for him once in the middle of our set. He was so fucked up that he couldn’t remember the Blink-182 cover (yeah that’s right fuck off) and couldn’t tune his guitar from Drop D to standard E. Anyway, Die Benny kicked him out of their band, and I joined Die Benny behind his back, going as far as to play the record release show for the record he had recorded with the band. We finally moved Die Benny practice to my house, and when Cameron showed up to Carmine practice and saw Die Benny’s gear, the bells finally fucking rang and he realized that I took his place in Die Benny. He continued to come to practice and would just pout and play bass as loud as he could while Alan and I would work on new parts. So I broke up the band via myspace and Cameron took me off his top friends.

That’s all for now. As I said this is where I joined Die Benny, but we have a show tonight and who knows, maybe something will happen and I’ll quit the band in the middle of our set leaving a much more interesting story to read.

Also, our dogs need food and I need to find my soda...both way more important than talking about shitty punk rock bands that I played in.

Cataloging Where I've Been Going Wrong Part 1

As I stated yesterday (this begs the question...if you are still awake, was something that happened less than 12 hours ago still yesterday? even though yesterday hasn't ended....whatthefuckever), I began playing shows 10 years ago. I’m not 100% sure what this says about me, so in an effort to figure that out, I am going to chronicle all of the shitty (and sometimes not so shitty) bands I have played in since I was 13 years old. This is going to be about as enthralling as it sounds…apologies for anyone who somehow found their way here to see pictures of witty remarks written on bathroom walls. I leave for four again in like, a week and a half…there will be plenty of that to come.

Before I begin I think I should first put in writing what constitutes as a “band.” By a band I mean, we practiced more than once and had songs and a bandname and maybe played shows, even if all of the before mentioned qualifiers were fucking terrible. But, my first ever attempt at playing music with friends never produced a song, only practiced twice, but had a real, REAL shitty name and never played. So, we wont go over that abomination. Instead, we’ll start with a slightly smaller abomination…

Punx Named Bob (August 1998 – March 2001)
Like most people (with the exception of Lars Ulrich and that bass player from Thrice), my first band was absolutely god awful and no one gave a shit about us. I played guitar and wrote all of the music and lyrics, and since I was 13-16 during this time and had absolutely no perspective on the world around me…I produced songs that were rip offs of my friends bands and Blink-182. I played guitar very poorly, sang terribly, and all and all was the conductor on a trainwreck that I still can’t escape. Every once and a while someone will bring up the fact that I was in a band called Punx Named Bob and my heart shrivels up and dies a little every time. We played a bunch of shows at Slapp Records in Forrest Park, which was a dump next to a teen center. One time I left my bag in the back area of the venue and my cellphone (please don’t ask me why I had a cellphone when I was 14 or 15 years old) was stolen by one of the kids who frequented the Teen Center. We recorded an EP at Southside Studios which I hated from the second we got the “master” back. We paid for it by using all the change from a change jar from my recently deceased grandmothers house (that actually had close to $500 in it), and my dad let me go to his office to print off the inserts for our “CD.” I was embarrassed every time someone bought a copy from me, but still have a copy for some reason. We made a lot of friends in the scene and were constantly told by the “older bands” that when we got a little bit older we were really going to be a great band. I didn’t realize it then, but now looking back this was just there sweet way of saying that we were a really bad band. I can’t blame them.

More Than Maybe (April 2001 – May 2002)
Punx Named Bob had enough sense to change our name (but only after going by Punx Named Bob for two and a half years…), but changing your name to something you lifted from a GoldFinger lyric isn’t much of a jump. Somewhere along the lines of More Than Maybe, we all started listening to a lot of Thrice, Poison the Well and In Flames (for the record, I hated In Flames then, and still hate them now) and it started to show in our music. I started screaming some, which I guess was kind of cute. As More Than Maybe we played a couple shows and started to get a name for ourselves in the suburban Atlanta scene. Andrew Wiggins smashed his guitar after a show we played with a bunch of bigger Atlanta bands, so after that we thought people saw us as a band with a “crazy” live show, so we tried to expand upon that. One day we went and saw Fall On Deaf Years from Philadelphia at Under The Couch and became enamored with how the band played in the middle of the floor and not on the stage. Obviously, we stole this idea from them. We actually got to play with Fall on Deaf Years in May 2002, which was one of our last shows ever and was actually the first time I ever played with a touring band. Back then I couldn’t really grasp what a touring band is. Funny aside, the three guys in Fall of Deaf Years and the four guys in Green is Mean (and possible a merch guy) toured in a Ford Taurus towing a small trailer. Two of the guys actually rode in the trunk. Shit was insane. Anyway, we broke up after Andrew Wiggins quit our band because he wanted to play hardcore. If you know Andrew Wiggins now, you know how awesomely absurd this is. Oh, and when we were changing our name from Punx Named Bob to More Than Maybe, the guys wanted the new name to be Covered Bridge Arson Conspiracy Project…or the shorter version Covered Bridge Conspiracy. I was adamantly against it, and was ridiculed and called an asshole countless times for not liking the name, but I still stand by the fact that “Covered Bridge Conspiracy” is the most ridiculously stupid fucking idea for a band name ever.

Dead By Summer (September 2002 – Summer 2003)
After Andrew quit “> M.” (did I mention this was our abbreviation for More Than Maybe? We were a bunch of fucking assholes, weren’t we?), I wanted to keep playing in bands. Andrew had also quit Dead By Summer for some similar reason (he ended up starting a metal band that had a really, REALLY terrible name that I can’t remember right now. I think it was Lot 13, but I could totally be mistaken, anyway, they sounded like a bad Between the Buried and Me. Their singer wore face paint an JNCO’s when they played. I actually sang for them once cause he was so bad), so I jumped in to play bass. I had never played bass in a band before, but figured if I had played guitar in bands, I could just as easily play bass…and I was pretty right. I am by no means a great bass player, and I probably just as good of a bass player now as I was back then. Anyway, Rhys, our drummer use to like to throw his drumset after we played, so Daniel took to the habit of throwing his guitar across the stage when we were done, so, like an idiot, I did the same with my bass. I have no idea why I thought this would be a good idea, but I did, and actually destroyed a bass I bought simply to destroy. What a dick, right? Anyway, we stopped being a band after we stopped being friends with our guitar player Kerry. It’s a really long story but in short Kerry hated us for something that didn’t really involve any of us, blah blah blah. Rhys also moved to La Grange to go to school, only to drop out very soon after. We made one recording that, given the circumstance of recording it and how young we were, I think is a pretty decent little EP...regardless of the worst fucking bass tone ever.

I guess that’s where I’ll leave it for now. Things start to pick up HERE…as I continued to play bass very shittly in bands for 6 more years, with some guitar thrown in there as well.

So as of this past Friday…February 13th, I have officially been playing in punk rock bands for 10 years. At the age of 13, I played my first ever show on February 13th, 1999 in Joe Caubo’s basement with like, 10 of my friends there. 10 years later and I am still playing in basement with 10 fucking people watching. Godfuckingdammit.

There’s no dog shit to pick up today, so I’m going to go eat a whole $5 Little Ceasers pizza and try and figure out where the fuck I went wrong in my life.

I’ll expand on this tomorrow.

Probably way better things I could have spent my money on. Oh well.

If you don't get it, watch Batman Begins. Also, it's not finished.
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round 3

November 29th – Harrisburg, PA
Matt picked me up from the airport at 1:30 and by 2:30 we were already on the road. We ran out of gas twice within half an hour, the second time not within walking distance to a gas station. We played a shakey first show and even though I hadn’t been gone 12 hours things had already began to shake up back home. I use to wonder what it felt like to always walk on solid ground, but now I know I have no interest in solid ground and that I am only interested in keeping myself standing on whatever is below my feet.

November 30th – Olean, NY
Olean is cold and there is snow all around me. We talked in the van about hording vegetable oil and burying it underground to collect the next time we come through an area. I could not enjoy myself playing tonight…I have no idea why. Every note I played sounded wrong, my fingers were never where I wanted them to be. Every movement I made seemed phony and I felt like everyone can see right through me even though I have nothing to hide.

December 1 – Cleveland. OH.
Today was the most absurd off day I have ever had. Within an hour of waking up I began arguing over text messages. I turned off my phone and took a shower, turned it back on and continued to argue until we got to the Rock n Roll hall of fame. I really wonder how this place stays open, because I cant imagine that there is a lot of interest in seeing Kurt Cobains guitar. I mean, yeah it was played by Kurt Cobain, but its still just a fucking guitar. The whole rock n roll hall of fame is a place that sort of pinpoints everything I find wrong with a lot of pop culture – the rock n roll hall of fame tells us that we should care about these guitars because these important people played them, when really, its just a guitar. Lots of people have them, and lots of people play them and write songs. The Rock n Roll Hall of Fame tells us that we should care about ordinary things that ordinary people do ordinary things with because they do it in front of a lot of people, that because of this all of these ordinary things are special. Its because of places like the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame and the culture that surrounds those kind of people and those ideas that cause ordinary people like Kurt Cobain to blow their fucking brains out.

After the HOF we went to a shitty armature stand up comedy thing, took part in the shooting of a Christmas Ale video and I think I almost got mugged.

After that Kyle, Sam and I ate a whole lot of chocolate.

December 2nd – Dayton. OH
We played at the Dayton Dirt Collective in Dayton, OH and it is exactly the kind of space I want to open in Atlanta. I get very sad that we don’t have a space like that and I feel like I could do it if I just bit the bullet and did it. When we were driving a deer ran across the road and it was the closest I have ever been to killing an animal. I fought with my parents and I am not really sure why.

December 3rd – OFF in Dayton, OH
I think I am all about learning things the hard way. The past three months I have been learning lessons about tour life all the hard way…more specifically about relationships at home. You cant control what people do when you are gone, and you can’t control how they will handle you being gone.

I have this issue where I have epiphanies or realizations at the last possible minute and only get to enjoy the fruits of my proverbial lightbulb for a short amount of time. I have 4 days left of tour this year and obviously this is no exception.

December 4th – Louisville, KY
Skull Alley is just as awesome as the Dayton Dirt Collective. Its really cold in Lousiville. We are staying with Micha and I realized that back in January I slept in his bed when I was on tour with Worn in Red. He had left for the night his roommates said I could sleep in his bed if I so desired. So I did. The look on Micha’s face when I told him that I think I have slept in his bed before was without question the most befuddled and awkward expression I have ever seen and I will cherish it for as long as I live.

December 5th – Murfreesboro, TN
Watching a band called Zombie Bazooka Patrol play a set and sing songs about zombies eating humans and embracing the transformation to zombies doesn’t really hit home when the band decides not to dress up in their makeup for the show. Something about all of it just doesn’t click.

December 6th – Knoxville, TN
We are playing at a convention to a bunch of nerds tonight. Nerds, when rallied together, are an interesting group. We are the outsiders, and this is their event. One little fat kid with braces smarted off to me. Another asked me to leave “their spot” where they had been sitting. I don’t take much offense to any of this because when they aren’t spending their weekends in conventions they are sitting at their computers or playing rock band or playing D&D. Let them eat cake every once in a while.

December 7th – Chattanooga, TN
We played with the Sadistic Scenic City Sideshow tonight and for being people that stable paper money to their chests and who nail crosses to their hand and swallow goldfish and walk on glass all of them were some of the sweetest people I have ever encountered. By now I feel like I should be hardened and that there should be no surprises…that spending time with a man that makes vomit videos would prove to me that no one is really how they seem, but I was really caught off guard at how un-abrasive, genuine and gentle the Sadistic Sideshowers were. I told them to hit me up if they were ever in Atlanta and I would take care of them…I would love to have them as houseguests someday.

December 8th – Marietta, GA
The last show of tour. It doesn’t feel like tour is over, but it is over. A rather anti-climatic way to end a good 3 months of my life, but its over. It doesn’t feel like tour is over. Tomorrow I will wake up in my bed. I will wake up in my bed every day for a long time. Tour is over and I start working again soon. I start trying to make money again. I start saving money again. Tomorrow I have nothing to do and that makes me really anxious and nervous. I have nothing to do tomorrow and I am scared that I will fall back in to being complacent in being bored and ignoring opportunity. Tonight was the last show of tour and it certainly starting to feel like tour is over.

The more I think about it, "the big chicken" is the most absurd
fucking thing ever. Also across the street is a billboard that looks
like blue testicles with a sad face. So yeah.

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As of the past week or so I have been helping Witt with booking all the shows at WonderRoot...it works out pretty well because its like running a venue without all the bullshit involved, and its nice to know that my friends that are in bands that aren’t idiots I can now help out with shows. But anyway.

One thing that I have noticed a lot since I started getting the booking e-mails is the abundance of local bands looking to put together local shows. This has blown my mind because being that kind of band has no interest to me anymore. To me, whats the point of playing a show at a small artspace if there isn’t a touring band to help out? I have long since decided that outside of special occasions that playing in Atlanta isn’t anything I am interested in unless there is a band on tour that needs a show. But there is a whole sect of bands that just want to get together with their other friends and just play to some more friends. So I guess all of this is to say that there are two kinds of bands out there: local bands and touring bands.

I know it is quite pompous to say this, and I guess I need to find a better word for it, but I would place my bands in Atlanta into the “touring band” category, even though I think collectively Die Benny and Benard have spent a month out of the past 2 years on tour. But having said that, we have spent time outside of the city, and I feel like our stance as a band is somewhat of a greater picture than just playing with our friends at WonderRoot or Lenny’s. I would say the goals of a “touring band” and a “local band” are much different, and the goals of a touring band are probably much more self serving and idiotic, but there is a certain sense of expanding your audience outside of your friends in your hometown. I don’t think Benard is, or will ever be, the type of band that fan boys nerd out over on message boards and I know that we’ll probably never open for Abel Baker Fox at Common Grounds on Day 2 of the Fest, but, there are people who dig our band that aren’t from Atlanta (even though those people are probably restricted to Gainesville, FL Saint Louis and Charlottesville, VA). What I am trying to say is that the stance I have taken with my bands is that everyone in Atlanta that could be remotely interested in hearing our band already has, and has made a decision on us, and after that what’s the point of playing shows with more bands that are in the same place? Furthermore, what is that doing for our scene and our community if the same 4 bands are just going to get together and play shows to the same 20 people? I feel like it’s the obligation of “local” bands to draw crowds to see touring bands and not to sit around and sing songs to eachother. For example, Benard is playing this Thursday with Sorry No Ferrari and imadethismistake, who is Kylewilliam from Tallahassee’s band, and if for some reason he had to cancel the show/tour, Sorry no Ferrari and Benard would probably both just drop off the show as well. That because, at least I feel, our duty as bands from Atlanta to draw kids out to see bands that don’t have any kind of draw in Atlanta. And if the band that needs help in Atlanta doesn’t need any help anymore, then what’s the use of hauling all our gear and bothering the people that run the venue, just so we can play the same old songs to the same people.

It doesn’t mean much coming from a guy like me, but if you are going to a show that your friends band is playing, and if they are playing with a couple touring bands, then honestly you are there to check out the touring bands. You may not like them, but I feel like it is your obligation as a van of music and DIY shows to at least check out the touring bands. I mean, lets face it, you have seen Die Benny play 100 times, and checking out and supporting a band from 1,000 miles away is way more important that screaming at us to play “Clapping” because we are dicks and didn’t put it on the set list.

Sometimes I wish I could just be in a local band though. I think it would be much easier and enjoyable, because the little minute things that I turn into horrible atomic bomb sized issues (like printing shirts, booking tours, recording, press, etc) don’t exist. Local bands are just there to play music with their friends and to hang out and write songs and just do whatever. And that’s fine and like I said I envy that to a degree, but there is no goal there; I can’t just be that laid back about it. Playing in stupid punk rock bands is about the only thing in my life I have felt I have a knack for, and I’m way too hardheaded and dumb to just leave it at that. I always have to keep pushing it to be the biggest thing it can possibly be, no matter how worthless and stressful that is.

Grilled Cheese with tomato, Bread and Butter pickles, and veggie
bacon. Not perfect yet, but getting there.
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Ok, so I probably don't shower as often as I should.

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When I first read about this guy, I fucking hated him. After I watched this video I realized how amazing all of this really is. I don't think you have to be a record collector to understand this guys passion for music.


The Archive from Sean Dunne on Vimeo.

I Promised myself I wouldn't cry, and I didn't

The new Fake Problems record makes me very depressed. Not because it is bad, or sad, or even because it is so great. It makes me depressed because I know these kids are my age and younger, and this is what they are creating. The musicianship and the instrumentation in the song-writing on their new LP "It's Great To Be Alive" is so intricate, complex and dense that it makes me so sad, simply because their are so many layers on this record that I never could have thought of. The songs these guys wrote are so complex and beautifully crafted, and they are my age. I am my age, and what am I creating? What am I doing other than playing other peoples songs? I think I wrote 3 new songs last year with my bands and maybe 2 more that will never see the light of day. I thoroughly enjoyed how I spent my year, but what am I creating, other than a ringing in peoples ears in a couple cities on the east coast?

When you compare records like "It's Great To Be Alive" to what i accomplished in 2008 and I think thats where you can draw the line between artist and musician...They are artist, I am just a musician.

Why did no one ever make me listen to Torche earlier? So much wasted
time listening to bands that don't matter

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I forgot to mention that sometimes my parents are too absurd
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i use to be real big into End of the Year lists. I guess I'm not anymore...it was hard to think of 10 albums that I really liked. Anyway, if i had to make a "2008 Mixtape" this would be it. I dont think all of these songs came out this year, but these were what i listened to a lot....

1. "Get Some Sleep" - Lemuria
2. "Chips Ahoy" - the Hold Steady
3. "Wendy Clear" - Fake Problems
4. "You're Not Afraid of the Dark, Are You?" - Look Mexico
5. "Call to the Comptrollers Office" - Bridge and Tunnel
6. "Vinegar and Baking Soda" - Scream Hello
7. "Mechanical" - Lemuria
8. "Massive Nights" - The Hold Steady
9. "Foolish Optimism" - Jena Berlin
10. "Sponsorship For Life" - Antillectual
11. "Seconds Before the Bottom Drops Out" - Glass and Ashes
12. "When People Have Something to Say" - Worn in Red
13. "Track 2" - Make Do and Mend
14. "Posterchild" - Crossbearer
15. "They Know Not" - The Hope Conspiracy
16. "Stars" - Hum
17. "Bleach Funeral" - City of Ships
18. "Chimps Night Out" - OleHole
19. "Young Bloods" - the Bronx.

So there's that. I havent had a day off since December 7th.

Last night I showed up to a petsit and one of the dogs wasn't in the back yard. I spent two hours with another sitter and my boss looking for the dog. The dogs at this clients house stay in the basement and have a dogie door that lets them go in and out of the house as they please. Apparently the missing dog got out of the fence sometime between my morning visit and when i returned for the evening. There was no opening in the fence anywhere, no holes to get out. There was still no sign of him this morning.

My boss just called me to tell me that he was hit by a car and died. This is not my fault, nor is our companies fault...the dog simply jumped the fence or got out somehow. We never touched the gate, he must have just been spooked by the fireworks and jumped the fence and got turned around. Its no ones fault but i still feel a ton of guilt and have no idea how to handle this situation, and cannot believe this happened on one of my sits and with my dogs that I was paid to take care of.