Ben's Neighborhood

Blow the drummer up?

2008-05-14T14:32:00.004-06:00

- I wrote this before rushing out the door last Thursday, May 8, 2008:

My mother thinks I may be blown up today while playing a drum roll at an Israel 60 Years of Statehood flag raising ceremony this afternoon. "Jews are hated around the world! I'd rather die in my own home of (bronchial conditions) than get blown up!" Well, if I am blown-up, I have enjoyed my short time here on the planet, and my even shorter time here in Blog Land, interacting, free of religious zealot-ism, with all of you virtual friends!

Keep making music, and if you are in the music business, don't give it away for free!

Hug and kiss your loved ones every day - Dakota, I love you!

See you on the other side!

Ben

Post Script,May 9th, 2008
No one was hurt, or blown-up, at the ceremony. Only the wind blew.

Go Speed Racer, Go!

2008-05-14T14:28:00.000-06:00

The chipmunk was speeding across three lanes of impatient traffic.
It stopped, twisted, and darted forward again as my car closed the distance in the third lane. Come on, come on - go little guy! I really hoped it would make it to the safety of the sidewalk on the other side of the road.

I imagined myself sprinting across a massive highway, the width of Hoover Dam, while gargantuan machines the size of cruise ships came bearing down upon me. I imagined myself being very freaked out.

I wish that darting animals would just commit to the run, and go for it, because most of us behind the wheel are really pulling for them, and we're willing to make minor adjustments in speed to avoid hitting them, and it's easier to make minor adjustments in speed based upon straight trajectories then it is upon the erratic zigzagging-start-and-stops of those cute, but panicked, little creatures.

Responsible drivers basically have their hands tied: swerving is out of the question when surrounded by other cars on all sides; slamming on the brakes is a guaranteed three-car pile-up; and slowing to a complete stop for a tiny animal to make up its even tinier mind is not only likely to confuse the little bugger even more than it already is, it's likely to draw exasperated looks of "Are you freakin' kidding me?" from motorists impatient to get home after a day of sucking up to clients and a boss they despise.

Perhaps all of us face gargantuan monsters of some kind or another everyday. I hope that we all make it to the other side safely, as, on this fine day, my little friend was able to do.

Old Salsa masters remind all performers to RELAX and LISTEN

2008-03-16T15:37:00.000-06:00

A friend sent me a link to video footage from Candido’s 82nd birthday party at Birdland (2003).

Watching and listening to these old masters of Son - Cuban music, or Salsa - got me to thinking (which is rare on a Sunday!):

... the sense of family on stage and with the audience, creates such a relaxed performance - i really miss that element in much of today’s music. There is so much preoccupation with self gratification, and everyone is in a hurry to prove themselves, there is a tension and uptightness with many performers, generally those that are less succesful - it comes from an insecurity... I miss playing with guys that "get it". Taking the time to tell a (musical) story takes skill and maturity on the player’s part and it flourishes with a patient, and receptive audience..

Here is the link to the performance:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-_r1EvJ6q4&feature=email

Hillary Clinton: I know an old lady...

2008-03-08T02:11:00.000-07:00

Hillary Clinton:

I know an old lady who swallowed a lie, I don't know why she swallowed a lie, I guess young American soldiers and Iraqi children will die!!

Obama Brings Music Back To School?

2008-03-08T01:58:00.003-07:00

If a black president from Chicago can't get music back in the schools this country is really screwed!! Let's give him a shot at fixing Reagan's big mistake. No Child Without An Instrument!

Old Rivets Popping Out

2008-03-08T01:57:00.001-07:00

I am now down to one rivet in my old Zildjian sizzle cymbal. There used to be 8 of them and over the last 20 years they have popped out one at a time. They were old rivets with a styalized flower pattern on the head. Does anyone know where I can get more of these?

Too Much Noise-Not Enough Room For Music

2008-03-08T01:56:00.000-07:00

Musicians who perform most every night often find themselves seeking escape from noise throughout their day. I am one of those. I have become so sensitive to sound that I rarely listen to the radio, don't own an iPod, have a turntable stored in the garage, and, upon waking in the morning (yes, I wake in the morning! to make breakfast for my daughter and then walk her to kindergarten) I shy away from conversation - talking is too strenuous, and listening to spoken-word jumbles up the scarce peace of mind I am alloted to begin each day with. About the only music I listen to is on myspace profiles and when I must learn someone else's material for a gig. There is more than enough ambient sound in the world to fill my head and tax my nervous system. Police sirens serenade me to sleep at night and, cleverly enough, serve as my alarm clock in the morning. Trash trucks, and other deep-throated diesel-engined delivery vehicles, provide an out-of-tune low-brass section playing counterpoint to the constant whooshing-buzz of helicopters that sound like aboriginal bull-roars on meth-amphetamines. The idea of a pleasant sounding - maybe even soothing - cell phone ring being invented is doomed from the start: anything manufactured to interrupt your life at unpredictable intervals will inevitably become torturous.

Igor Stravinsky wrote, "Music is given to us with the sole purpose of establishing an order in things..."

I must disagree with Igor on that point (although he was right about Spring). Music can often scramble one's brain - particularly if you spend four hours performing in front of a well aimed guitar amplifier set to stun.

I tuned in the classical radio station the other morning, thinking that the music would take the edge off of the frantic dynamic of getting a child dressed, fed, ready, and on-time for school. It worked for three minutes, until the music stopped and the on-air fund-raising pitch began. I slammed the off-button before the guilt of not paying for music began to drag me down. ("Oh my God! I'm not supporting classical music!" Dial down to the jazz station, more on-air fund drives - switch off - "Oh my God, I'm not supporting jazz!" - Well, I used to, but when times get tough, the first thing to go is the jazz station membership, then the pedicures... )

I think I'd enjoy listening to music more if I just quit the busines

Has Anyone Found It Yet?

2007-11-21T22:26:00.001-07:00

Well, have ya?

Thanks Captain!

2007-11-14T19:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks to David Booker for inviting me into the KUVO studio last Sunday night as his special on-air guest during the avant-garde jazz show. I was caught off-guard by his enthusiastic praise of my percussion playing. He is quite fond of a duo CD we made together years ago (8 years?), sort of a jungle blues recording: traditional blues guitar and vocals with afro-latin percussion! Booker said he was quite sorry to have not paid me any royalties on it - he hasn't made any yet himself!! So we laughed and we cried, but most importantly we were there together again chatting most pleasantly in the studio after a rift had kept us apart for the last 3 years. I began playing with Booker in 1992 and spent a lot of time on the road, in nightclubs, and in the studios with him over the years. I learned many things about the blues and about the music biz from David. We had many ridiculously funny times together that are worthy of a short film, and I was fired from his band at least 3 times. The standing joke among all of his sidemen is that you are never really a member of his band until you've been fired 3 times! I remember one time when he gave me "your third pink slip!!" in between songs on stage in the middle of Wyoming. He hired me back the next afternoon in the van ride to Idaho... All who know him call him Captain. (To his face anyway!) Thanks Captain!!

Happy Birthday Dad!

2007-11-13T19:43:00.000-07:00

It's my dad's 68th birthday today. Happy birthday dad and thanks for having cool jazz records in your collection while I grew up with you!! And thanks for taking us to the Rolling Stones concert in Dallas in 1980 - That really kicked ass!!!! The Charlie Daniels concert in Tulsa was a gas too... And thanks for forcing me up on stage when I was 12 years old in some obscure bar in New Mexico to play drums for a professional band for the first time in my life. Did I ever tell you I was scared shitless? I was. Thanks for not getting me drunk after that experience - life would've been very different ... Love ya dad!

My Friend Frank On Tour w/ John Scofield

2007-10-09T14:52:00.000-06:00

Frank Vacin and I went to high school together and spent many hours listening to jazz records either in his dad's basement (his dad only liked old big band jazz) or in my dad's living room (my dad dug it all but was never home!). Later, when Frank moved in with me and my dad so he could practice all day, he and I joined our first big band (Sam Bivens) where we got our reading together. While practicing during the day, neighbors would leave notes on our door telling "the guy trying to play sax" to "give it up!" Frank was just working on harmonic growling, or shouting through the sax. Five or so years later when coming back to visit Denver from NY, where he had moved, (he had sold me his 1979 Chevy Impala station wagon for the price of a greyhound ticket to NY -about $91 back then- so he could get out of Denver), he sat in with a blues band I was gigin with. The leader laughed at his playing and said, "He might be able to play in another 10 years!!" Frank put up with a lot of negative crap from others over many years...

Well Frank, YOU DID IT!!! Congrats, and thanks for all those home made chorizo burritos at my dad's house!

Frank is currently on tour of the US with John Scofield through October. They will go to Europe in Nov for 28 shows adding bassist Steve Swallow to their already impressve line-up: the Grenadier brothers (Larry & Phil) and drummer Bill Stewart.

Check out Frank's website: http://www.frankvacin.com

Tan Biker Moms And Drunk Hippie Chicks: Tip The Band!

2007-09-23T01:36:00.000-06:00

She's got the perfect suburban-biker-mom-tan and she's on the dance floor shakin' it like she did 30 years ago and actually showing the younger drunk hippie chicks a thing or two, if only 'cause they're so drunk that they are not actually dancing but flopping about as if their inner gyroscope's gone haywire. As we prepare to begin our 2nd set biker mom weaves her way to the front of the band. "Okay now, I don't want anything slow, and we can't have anything sad okay now! My week's been too hard and some these girls are havin' a tough time too and we gotta keep it up and you gotta make us happy okay! Keep it real up and peppy. Now you guys gotta play some songs by..." I got my start in this business playing with some ruthless motherfuckers who enjoyed telling people like this woman to "Shut the fuck up". I've worked for leaders who enjoyed shoving people off the stage and onto their asses on the peanut shell-covered floors of bars in Montana and South Dakota. I like to think that I have remained a bit of an old fashioned gentleman despite such an upbringing. I smiled as she went on, "I just spent $600 on a radiator for my 2-week old car and I'm sick of people telling me I spent too much money on it so don't tell me I've spent too much..." Now I'm getting pissed! My 17-year old car had just died. Dead and gone to the junk yard. I had no car, I was broke, late on rent, nothing in savings, needed groceries for my little girl back at home... Just another typical working musician. But I was sober and I was listening to this crap and in the sweetest golly-gosh kinda voice I could muster I just smiled into her eyes and interrupted, "Say! Do you think you could find us something to put our tip jar on? You see it's down there in front of my bass drum, yeah, that jar with a dollar in it, and i just don't think anybody here can see it - maybe that table over there or something would work great-thankyousomuch!" Putting both of her hands feebly to her jean pockets she began to mumble, "Well I just don't have any..." and she did a 180 to the bar for another drink.

US Military Re-Builds Berlin Wall In Iraq!

2007-09-14T09:13:00.000-06:00

US Military Re-Builds Berlin Wall In Iraq!

Read the story here:
http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/091307R.shtml

I remember building a wall out of cardboard blocks painted like red bricks in kindergarten. I had to build it up on my desk to block the line of sight from my 5 year old neighbors in order to take a test and they all did the same to block my sight of their tests. It felt like I was at the bottom of a well-lit chimney. We dismantled them 20 minutes later when the testing was done and no one was hurt and we all remained friends.

I wonder how many neighbors will die trying to take the wall down in Iraq?

Happy Birthday Star Trek!

2007-09-08T23:18:00.000-06:00

41 years ago TV audiences watched as the first episode of Star Trek beamed accross the airwaves. Half a year later I was born and 10 years after that I watched Star Trek for the first time and was hooked. So were many others; people who later invented the cell phone, head up the jet propulsion division of NASA, run SETI, fly on the space shuttle, and invented non-invasive laser surgery. I simply became a star gazing drummer. Well, I did make a UFO video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KGGfsKfLdU

The Next Generation was crap.

Long live Star Trek!

Also great was Galaxy Quest, and thanks to Shatner et al for the informatinve documentary How William Shatner Changed The World.

Quote Of The Day

2007-06-09T14:22:00.000-06:00

"Life is a descending minor arpeggio that never resolves."

- B.Makinen

Cosmic Void (Man On Woman)

2007-06-01T14:50:00.000-06:00

The tricks of the trade haunt the human condition in a way that leaves scars deeper than problematic chainsaws gone wild and by that it is clear that women shall forever be blaming the flow of blood for the transgressions of imaginary gremlins inhabiting the souls of men whom they presume to have written the manual on, and by which the warm and comfortable conclusions, so desperately craved, can be held aloft as a triumphant banner proclaiming innocence, superiority, and transcendental self righteousness despite their wondrous bosoms bouncing with ultimate freedom and beyond the control of prudishness in a manner begging the immediate placement of infinitely varied nipples into the mouths of ever silent, ever hungry, and ever willing collectors of the ultimate and delicious universal truth - yum yum to the god of oral fixation for the gift of silence shall be enjoyed only when the mouth ceases to blabber on incessantly and finds itself content with primordal moans lost in the cosmic void.

Penelope The Worm

2007-06-01T04:14:00.000-06:00

After buying a bug catching kit from the gift shop of the Butterfly Pavilion, Dakota and I drove home in the rain and talked of the worms that would be coming out in our back yard.

At home we jumped from our car and immediately set off on the hunt for a worm. After 12 failed attempts - those worms can book through dirt! - we caught a huge 8 inch worm and put it (Dakota named her Penelope) in a container far too small for the worm and the added dirt.

Five minutes later Dakota suggested we release Penelope back into the wild. Unable to get our fingers through the opening of the "cage", we tried to gently shake her out but she would not budge.

We tried placing the container on the ground in a patch of wet dirt near the spot where we had caught her and began calling to her to come on out. I finally managed to pry Penelope's head out with a twig she had curled around. While I held the cage upside down so that the worm dangled out, Dakota grabbed on and tugged her out the rest of the way then laid her down on the mud. It was rainy and cold.

Penelope never made it back underground. We tried covering her up with a clod of dirt, but found her dead the next morning. We learned that worms don't like being pulled out of their holes.

My daughter's next project was to build a slug house. Watch the video - click on the link at the top of this post.

I Want My Jazz Membership Dues Refunded

2007-04-28T17:00:00.000-06:00

[Arturo Gomez's reply to my letter below is reprinted in the comments section, as is my response to Art's reply.]

Attention: Carlos Landau CEO and Program Director, and Teke O'Rilley Development/Membership of FM 89.3 KUVO.

I demand my membership be refunded. Pro rate it if you must.

I am angered and left aghast by the decision to fade out Miles Davis' Love For Sale in the middle of John Coltrane's solo at 1:07 pm this afternoon during Jazz Appreciation Month.

There is NO excuse for the fade out: it was not the top of the hour (news), there was no national emergency, and there was no weather emergency. [Don't even try to tell me that the in-studio "guest" was on a "tight schedule".]

The dj decided it was time to put an end to Coltrane's solo so the we, the members that help keep jazz on the air, could listen to some local promoter talk about having had dinner 4 times with McCoy Tyner! SO WHAT! Is this what Jazz Appreciation Month means: Turn the jazz music off so we can talk - no - brag about our brushes with fame? Disgusting.

And the message sent to the listeners? Go on with your interruptions because when you've got something to say, the masters, the one's who have dedicated their entire life to creating music worthy of our attention, to bringing beauty into the world, should just put their instruments down so everyone can hear you talk about yourself using lame anecdotes to mask your failed attempts to actually create anything of importance!

KUVO sends the signal to jazz listeners that the music shall always be second to our need to blabber about ourselves. I do not sanction one cent of my money to fund that kind of behavior. Refund the pro rated portion of my membership dues back to me and take my name off of anything associated with KUVO other than the "Dissatisfied and Disgusted with KUVO" list.

Sincerely,
Ben Makinen

A Gig, Cancer, and The Promoter - A True Story

2007-04-25T04:23:00.001-06:00

A friend at a recording studio told me this story today about his brother and a promoter quick on his feet with a sense of humor.

The brother had been touring with a country western band for a long time, got off the road, and eventually ran into his band's promoter.

"So, how was it in Colby, Kansas?"

"I got cancer there."

Long pause.

"Well, I'll never book you in that town again!"

Witch Is The Wife And Which Is The Husband?

2007-04-25T04:03:00.000-06:00

"Why don't you want to fuck me?!"

"I like nice. Can you be nice? I'll fuck you if you'll be nice to me."

"I'll be nice if you fuck me asshole!"

"You're not doing it right!" - Being Told What To Play

2007-04-03T22:08:00.000-06:00

One of my drum students emailed me a question after he had a rehearsal in his basement with some friends. It sparked a resopnse from me that I must develolp further and perhaps more clearly some time in the future. Both my student's email and my response are unedited below, with the exception being that I have changed the names ("... to protect the innocent").

The idea that something is supposed to be only a certain way - that there is one right way - is one that has plagued me through my entire career. Fom ignorant laypeople to seasoned and respected professionals I have heard all kinds of ridiculous statements regarding the truth of music.[For example: "You can't ride on a cymbal that has 'Crash' written upon it!" ; "Eighth notes don't swing."; "You can't learn to play the blues by listening to John Coltrane!"] People who utter such nonsense have been brainwashed into disbelieving they have an ability to discern things for themselves. I have patience with it when I see it in the young. They have been victimized.

Here are the emails:

[From my student "Spiff"]

hey ben,

I just got done with a rehersal with Biff and Boff. I had an idea to trade the head with Biff (well parts of it at least) we get done doing it and Biff gives me a funny look. He says he dosn't like it because i don't have enough drums. (i was using a snare, hi-hat, bass drum, and ride) Then him and Biff's dad started to tell me that it would be like Boff not bringing an amp to rehersal or Biff bringing his mouth piece. Not even close.

Anyway I got piseed about it wasted rehersal time and set up a tom. I then continued to play the rest of the rehersal on the tom. wrong?

[From me]

well, the anger and sarcasm are well appreciated!

It takes much patience to educate those who are ignorant of the large picture. Seeing that they are your friends it is worth taking the time to try and teach them.

For the time being you can set up 2 additional toms around your kit and simply never play them. Then you have "brought your entire instrument" to the gig as far as they are concerned.

However, it does allow you to raise a challenge to them: Simply ask them to show you proof, beyond doubt, of what a "drum set" is. Can they find a definition of "drum set" that is universally agreed upon? We know the answer to be "no". Yet they should be allowed some time to reach the same conclusion. They may learn something in the process.

If that is too hard of an assignment for them at first, simply ask them to define "drum", and then have them tell you why bringing 2 empty coffee cans with their lids on would not satisfy the statement that " I am playing drums", or even that, "I am playing a set of drums".

What about cymbals? Where does it say a drummer must use cymbals? Answer: Nowhere. At least not by any respected authority on music.

Your person is your entire instrument. Anything else you choose to use becomes another instrument for your expression. When making music there is no right or wrong, except that one is doing the best to bring out an honest expression of their personal feelings and experience. Telling someone else that their chosen instrument is wrong or insufficient is bullying and is an attempt at enslavement to their own ideas. If you give in to them now you send them the signal that they may continue to harass and control you in the future.

The only time it is acceptable to unquestioningly accept someone else's demands is when you have agreed to work for them with the understanding that they may ask you to do things "their way". If you agree to accept their money with that understanding, then sure, no problem, right or wrong, you can do what they ask. 7 cymbals and 2 snare drums and a shaker? Sure! Brushes only? You got it! No yawning on stage? Absolutely!

Now. You are working towards getting all the sounds possible out of the few things you are setting up, YOUR drum set.

The question is, are they working towards getting all the sounds out of their instruments?!

Are they utilizing every single note on their instruments? Does Biff utilize false fingerings, does he circular breath, does he play in all 12 keys, does he know every possible scale and chord substitution? I don't think so.

And same for Boff - does he use every single note his bass is capable of playing, etc...? I don't think so. And remember, a bass used to be (and still is!) 1 string attached to a wash tub!

Maybe the analogy is more like this: You say you play sax? Well why didn't you bring the soprano and tenor and bari sax too. If Boff plays the bass why doesn't he bring an upright bass, a 4 string bass and a 5 string bass and a 6 string bass?

Ultimately the point is not how much stuff you have, or even what you know. It is simply, Are you making an honest attempt to make the best music that you can, with WHATEVER you are using.

There are enough rules out there already in school, on the gig (where you have been hired), in society. ALL of those rules were made without your input. NONE of you were asked to contribute your input towards the making of those rules. The people who made those rules do not know you and probably never will. They were made with absolutely ZERO understanding of who Spiff, Biff and Boff are.

While you explore music in the freedom of your own home, why not make up your own rules? If they don't work change them, if they do work, keep them as long as they continue to work for you, knowing that you can always change them.

But ask yourselves if you are happy accepting the rules made by people who do not know you. Ask yourselves if you have to accept those rules in order to have fun making music together.

see you soon

Flower Lined Nest

2007-03-20T14:00:00.000-06:00

If you flaped a chap
and biffed a whiff
would you fliff a chiff?

Can you wrag a bag
and climb a chime
while you ram a bam?

Perhaps it's simply best
to warble the test
and forget the rest.

(but I have heard it said that one can flibber the flobber and still catch the robber...)

My 40th Birthday

2007-03-15T03:37:00.000-06:00

Today, March 14th, I turned 40. The only 2 people I saw today, that I knew, were my daughter and my mother. Probably 'cause it was a Wednesday. Did I tell you about the first time I found a grey hair on my body? About 10 years ago I was accused - by a man! - of dying my hair. Nope. Never have, never will. Of course I would for a movie role, but... About 2 years ago I stepped out of the shower. Standing in front of the mirror I could see it glistening. It was bold and shocking. It was dead center between my breasts - manly breasts of course. One fucking grey hair just hangin' out between my tits. Boy did I feel like a man! Today I turned forty and that grey hair is still there. It's now long and curly. (No, I haven't given it a name ya fag!) It's the only one I have. My wife says she saw one on my head, but my wife says she sees a lot of things. Now that I can (barely) grow a mustache, what do I get? I get half and half! Half dark brown and half orangy-red-blonde. The hair is all there, it just doesn't look like it 'cause half my mustache is not reflecting back much light!

My weight? Yeah, well, as I lay awake wrestling in bed with Father Time on my last hour of being thirty-anything, I imagined myself doing stand-up comedy [this was after my life started flashing before my eyes - it really did! Images from my earliest memories (which are just sound and shadow and a weird feeling of being very miniscule surrounded by other giant sounds and shadows) to those formative moments that shape who you are to become and yet in retrospect can, from an outsider's perspective (often times adult), appear to be extraordinarily mundane, and of course there will inevitably come a point when you are looking at the little you you once were so long ago and, dumfoundedly, with tears in your eyes, you're sayin to yourself, "How did I get so far away! What happened to all of that?!" then I think of my daughter and realize that I have been unknowingly connecting unseen dots all these years in a circle of life that has begun all over again - and I kept thinking, "They say this only happens when you are about to die!" Well, I told myself that I was not going to fucking die and that actually, my life was just about to begin and that I was just about to start kicking serious ass and stop fucking around with the dumb shit] and I came up with a one-liner on marriage (one of many actually...)

"Thank you... Ya know, I didn't enter into marriage lightly. I didn't leave it lightly either!" [turn sideways, stick out belly and pat. Allow laughter to die down.]

Back to my 40th Birthday: Riding motorcycles, doin shots at the bar, lines in the bathroom, ATM, then off to the strip club with the fellas, right?

Try this one on for size, cause this is what really happened:

My 5 year old daughter took me out to see the Monsters Inc., Disney On Ice show at the Denver Colosseum. We bought a program that came with a blue monsters inc logo'd hard hat, had popcorn, Dippin' Dots (a bowl of pebble sized ice cream balls), and cheeseburgers, then sat down and screamed our brains out in the front row. After the show we played with other kids in the confetti left all over the floor of the colosseum. Driving to the grocery store afterwards (hey, we had just eaten all that crap - we were going to stock up on fresh fruit and vegetables for breakfast. Once at the store my girl reminds me we hadn't had any cake for my birthday yet! Nice try Dakota... no cake at 11 at night! Oddly enough it took 7 attempts - 7 separate card swipes and 7 rejection-try-agains for me to get my pin number right at the checkout stand, i always get it on the first try - 3 people were waiting in line behind me with an item or 2 each in their hands - can anyone say Alzheimers? (or spell it?)] the car would erupt in sudden bursts of light from the overpriced, but really pretty awesome, battery powered monster toy that spins and flashes every time you push the button.

How did my 40th Birthday start? Glad ya asked. My wife was out of town. (Don't even go there. It's a good thing.) I'm havin' a weird dream about guns and various bullet trajectories - some off duty cop ya-hoo was tryin out this new fangled semi-automatic bazooka thing while i was down the firing line tryin to pull my target off the backstop... then there were appetizers and important people and cavernous dwellings,and, well, blah blah, it was just a dream - suddenly Dakota is jumping on my back - did i mention my whip lash? Yeah, last week I go ice-skating with the family. It's my first time and they put me in hockey skates and I'm goin about 1/4 mile per hour and suddenly (everything on ice is suddenly) I'm falling backwards and my arms are twisting and I'm telling myself "Oh it's cool. My arms will break the fall, just like a nice martial arts fall to the mat." Apparently idiocy chooses its own time and place to attack because my arms did not break my fall. My ass wasn't fat enough to keep the back of my skull from greeting the ice. Damn, ice is hard. I thought that all the coins that had fallen out of my pocket were puddles of blood. For a week I felt mildly drunk and my neck was whacked. So here is my beautiful daughter jumping on my back (and all parents out there know that jumping means jumping) screaming, "It's your birthday, it's your birthday! Yeh-hey!" I say, "Ouch sweetie. Just another minute for daddy to sleep ok?" She disappeared but was back in 5 seconds with a card that began to chirp out an electronic version of the Happy Birthday song over and over. She sang along (she has a great voice) and, bless her heart, asked me first if I wanted the "You look like a monkey" version or if I wanted the original style. I love my little girl and I'll never forget this day.

Shoveling In Shorts

2006-12-29T16:39:00.000-07:00

12/29/06

In a blatant sign of defiance to the gods of cold and snow, I decided to shovel my driveway and walk wearing boxer shorts and boots.

The snow kept falling, I cleared the driveway, and a neighbor, who was shoveling her walk dressed in full ski gear, shouted over to me that she was now disgusted by the snow, she had had enough. She couldn't see my bottom half due to the height of the snow barriers that separated us. Nonetheless, my wife came outside and told me to stop showing off, that I might die, and to get in, and put some clothes on. (I was also wearing 2 shirts, a baseball cap and gloves.)

I told her to chill out, I was not showing off, was not going to die, and that no one was checking me out.

I may have been wrong about the last claim.

A man and woman walked passed me in the street where they were able to see me in my entirety. The woman held a small dog beneath one arm, and they both carried to-go cups of coffee from You-Know-Whos. The woman was talking into a cell phone that she held in the hand of the same arm that cradled the dog.

"Nice weather!" the guy said smiling at me.

"Beautiful!" I replied.

"I'll have to come back with my camera to take your picture!" he waved.

Of course I never told my wife that I was about to become a calendar boy for the man down the alley. I love the gods' sense of humor.

Winter At The Denver Zoo With Dakota

2006-12-29T15:44:00.000-07:00

12/28/06

My daughter Dakota and I went to the zoo today in the middle of a snow storm. It was her idea. We had a blast! We hid in a "termite hill", saw the arctic foxes run, and watched the polar bears frolic. We had cheeseburgers for lunch inside the warm Samburu Grille while a peacock watched us from the other side of the glass.

I counted only eight other people in the zoo during the hour and a half we were there. It felt as though we got a lot more personal attention from the animals, many of whom seemed surprised to see us there. The seals took absolutely no notice of us (even when we tried barking hello to them), but Rhama, the female Kimodo dragon, took interest in Dakota after she began talking in snake tongue to it a la Harry Potter. I bonded with a Queen Triggerfish that kept swimming straight at me - she had such beautiful eyes - I had an instant crush on her

In the giraffe house I made melodic, percussive sounds by taping my cheeks and popping my lips. The younger giraffes stopped eating and stared at me. Soon the elders did too. The giraffes appear to be very in touch with music: earlier in the summer I blew over the opening of an empty water bottle, creating a tubular whistle, and all the giraffes stopped what they were doing (eating) to check it out. The buffalos were the only other animals that seemed interested in the water bottle that day. I am guessing that the zoo animals get pretty accustomed to all the typical sounds humans make (talking, laughing and screaming), but that they do not get much chance to hear our more musical sounds. Next time I am going to bring a wooden flute along.

We headed over to the bird house but were intercepted by a zoo official in a golf cart who told us the zoo was closing early because of the storm. I gave him the, oh-really?-I-had-no-idea look. "You're the last ones in here. Come on. Time to go."

We really just wanted to know what the elephants do when it snows.

A Father's Pride

2006-12-29T15:23:00.000-07:00

12/10/06

Something great happened to me today. The depth of emotion, bewilderment and pride, didn't register with me until the event was over.

Today my wife and I watched our 5 year old daughter Dakota perform in her first ballet recital on stage. Dakota had only one concern leading up to the show. Stage freight. I asked her what she was afraid of. She said she was afraid that the audience would boo if she made a mistake. I tried assuring her that everyone in the audience would be supportive.

Last night the issue came up again and as I looked into Dakota's eyes I knew that whatever I said next would shape the way she dealt with these challenges. I said, " Dakota, do you know what the most important thing to do is at your recital?" "What Daddy?" "It is to have F-U-N. Do you know what that spells - it spells fun!" And her eyes lit up and she smiled and we laughed.

She performed brilliantly, completely at ease. Afterwards she admitted that her only concern, while on stage, was that the large, blue bow in her hair didn't fall off.

Leaving the Newman Center parking lot it hit me. Dakota had just performed in the same venue that I had performed in! I immediately felt so proud. I had performed in the orchestra a few years back for Colorado Opera's production of Salome and Carmen. Dakota was only 2 at the time.

I explained to her that the stage she just danced on is as professional as it gets, the only thing that changes is the size of the audience. It was absolutely mind boggling to me, and yet it made complete sense. I only now recall how, as a small boy - 5 years old - I appeared on stage with my mother in a college play she was in. I played the role of a poor and hungary Russian boy. I don't remember having any lines, only that I sat on stage next to a drum set. I was transfixed by the deep and repetitive thumping of the bass drum.... A life of music is what followed for me. I wonder what will follow for my daughter.

Quotes Of The Week

2006-12-15T11:53:00.000-07:00

"I remember my first psyllium husks!"
- customer at health food store to her friend.

"Money makes people stupid."
- oil man to a new aquaintence at coffee shop.

"Dad, who made God?"
- Dakota, my 5 year old daughter.

Super Slippery!

2006-10-18T01:30:00.000-06:00

[This is an example of the kind of joke I often come up with when paling around with my daughter. She turns 5 today.]

The first snow of the season fluttered down to Denver yesterday. Walking hand in hand to my car she noticed that the ground had become, "super slippery."

"Hey Dakota, what would you name a restaurant that serves soup and octopus?"

"What daddy?"

"Soup Or Slippery!"

Doris

2006-10-18T01:10:00.000-06:00

[Many of my students ask me if it is possible to make a living playing jazz. Many grown adults from the civilian sector (non-musicians) ask me the same question. Because a simple "yes" from me doesn't often do the trick - all they see is my old car and a rakish grin - I offer the following.]

Friday the 13th, October, 2006

Today I produced and engineered a record for a wonderful jazz piano player. She is making a solo piano CD for her adult students to play along to. It is a collection of traditional children's songs that begins simply and builds in harmonic complexity towards the last song - a beautiful original that she wrote that morning before she left her house. The recording session went smoothly: she knew her material, was comfortable in the studio, and nailed it like a pro.

During the playback, sitting next to each other at the console, I began to learn about this extraordinary woman. She has been playing jazz piano professionally since the age of 14. She is now 74. She put her husband through college and raised her three sons by teaching from her home during the day and leaving to play piano in the clubs at night. When her husband completed his degree he left and was never heard from again until she got word five years ago that he had died.

As her boys grew up they taught their mother to defend herself with Karate. I asked if any of them were now musicians. "None of them. I never understood why they didn't take to music. It wasn't until a few years ago that they told me they were afraid that they would never be as good as I was."

She ended up marrying two more times before choosing to remain single 25 years ago. "I got tired of raising boys - you know - the kind that see a woman bringing home the money and want a free ride.

"This life of music makes me very happy. I can't imagine it any other way. It wasn't easy... its hard for a woman in this business: men with their groping hands... But I made it, and now I have three wonderful grown boys who always look after me. And I play gigs when I want to and I have some really talented students. I am very happy."

If it weren't my job that day to roll tape, listen, edit, and make a CD, I would've been asking a lot more questions and taking notes.
Simply sitting next to a person like this is an extraordinarily calming and enlightening experience. We shared so much in common - a life of jazz music - that we would often finish each others sentence, sometimes by just exchanging glances and a smile. She entered the studio that day a stranger to me and when she left I was saying goodbye to an old friend. Take care Doris!

Your Outgoing Message Is Too Long!

2006-10-15T18:16:00.000-06:00

[So is this. But it's a blog...]

We all know what do after the beep. We all know who you're living with and we all know who we can leave messages for. We don't need to hear it EVERY-SINGLE-TIME-WE-CALL-YOUR-PHONE! Please, make your outgoing message clear and succinct and lose the redundancy.

(How many of you have a sign above your toilet that reads Please Flush? Is there a sign on your car that reads Open Door, Climb In, Close Door? Didn't think so. We all know what to do.)

Don't worry about being unique - your uniqueness comes across in the tone and character of your vocal delivery. In this case it is not about length. Short is better. Just make it count! If you absolutely can not shorten it (hint: try simply stating your name.) then please leave the numeric code needed to bypass your phone message at the very beginning of your message.

Have any of you become aggravated at the sound of your friend, lover, client, or business partner's voice after hearing it say the same thing god-only-knows-how-many-times? And you really want to leave a message and you really want to be nice and you really just get frustrated and hold the phone away from your ear and wait till you hear the faint, yet piercing, little beep.

Now your stuck trying to regain your composure and your trying to regroup and focus on what it was you needed to tell them and you're telling yourself you are not going to lay into them for their frustratingly redundant message that actually ends up wasting a large chunk of your life's time!

[Waste time? Sure does. Do the math: Take 1 person you call 3 times a week. Outgoing messages are typically any where from 4 to 8 seconds. Let's just call it 5 seconds and see what happens: (I stopped calling people with songs on their outgoing messages - 10+ seconds long - years ago.)

3(calls/wk) x 5(seconds) = 15 seconds/week.

15(sec) x 4(weeks)= 1 minute/month.

1(min/month) x 12(months) = 12 minutes/ year.

12 minutes a year spent spent waiting for the beep!

Big deal? Go sit in a corner and listen to your favorite outgoing message looped over and over for 12 minutes straight and then tell me it's no big deal. (For those of you still paying for a per minute cell phone plan you may want to consider billing people with long outgoing messages.)

And that's just one person. I am sure you all call at least 2 other people a week with 5 second outgoing messages. Now you're up to 36 minutes a year. Know that you have the formula down just keep on multiplying. Have fun! Share the formula with your loved ones...

And for those of you "creative types" who just can't resist having a song play in the background as an intro to your personal commercial: Change the music every week, at least, and state the numeric code necessary to bypass it. I don't know about you, but I turn my music down to make a call, not up.

Feel you need to leave an alternate # that you "can be reached at"? Don't - unless you ALWAYS answer it. If you answer calls and check messages on the number you gave me I should have no need to leave the same message else where, which is what will happen when you don't answer the other number that you "can be reached at." Make it easy for me to leave a message otherwise I'll stop leaving them.

Please don't even get me started on people who call and leave a message saying, "Hi it's me! Give me a call! Bye."

Wanna Get Married?

2006-10-14T11:28:00.000-06:00

[click on link in title to hear soothing music to read by, ahhhhhhh...]

Wanna Get Married?

Being married is like suiting up in armor every morning to joust all day with a fierce and clever opponent who does not play fair.

My wife was tickled by what a cute couple our 80 year old neighbors made. When she had the opportunity to speak to the wife alone she asked, "What's the secret to your marriage?" The kindly old woman replied, "Honey, it's 90% bad and 10% good. Ya learn to enjoy the 10% when ya get it."

The only person who offered me advice on being married was my great Uncle Al. After the wedding ceremony, and as people were eating cake, Uncle Al pulled me aside and dropped one of his huge paws on my shoulder. He looked me square in the eyes and said, " Now Ben, I'm only gonna tell you one bit of advice about be being married, okay? Now I only been married for 54 years but it's worked for me. Ben, there'll be times when ya gotta admit to your wife that you're wrong. Even when you know you are right, ya admit you're wrong. Do you understand that? Okay then. Good luck Ben."

My advice: Say "yes" a lot and watch your back.

Back By "Pop" ular Demand (Strange But Yummy(SM))

2006-10-14T00:53:00.000-06:00

Please goto the link embedded in the title of this post and play the song it takes you to loudly as you read and contemplate the following... ready? okherewego -

Due to the flood of emails I have received prodding me for more of my creative-concoction recipies I have decided to provide my loyal readers with a steady diet of Strange But Yummy(SM)!!!!

Tonights treat goes well with a bottle of beer and a movie:

Curry Popcorn!

Heat oil and add mustard seeds Add curry powder [If you do not have an Indian auntie who makes her own curry powder you'll have either to buy a premix or, google curry and figure out how to make it!!] {PS GUYS: women are, like, way impressed when they check you out in the check-out with 10 tiny bags of colorful spices and seeds- you be da man!!} toss those popcorn seeds into the mix and........................................... 40934rjjejildfkjxns rti≈®∂†çƒ√ow;iehnsdfiuvhweoa903euri:POP-A-WAY! 98sduvj4phsp9dihcn¥©˙¨ˆ©†ƒ®∑å§®†¥˙¬øˆ
(Add salt and pepper to taste)

-later in the hood!

Third Time's A Charm

2006-10-14T00:43:00.000-06:00

They say things happen in threes. [Whoever came up with "they say" probably invented politics...] [and i guess that means someone really messed up when they designed our nose, eyes, ears, hands, feet ,heart, lungs, brain, and ass cheeks: those are ones, twos and fives - no threes. The only threes I can come up with are the three joints on each of our eight fingers! ] And besides, why would one stop counting at three? Why isn't the first of the next set of three really the fourth of the first set of three really the fifth of the next set... ? What do they say about that?

Try finding threes in everything around you - they're there all right, you may just have to be imaginative to see them. I stayed up for three days and now I am really tired. My car broke down, and I had to take a bus back home, and I lost money on the deal - hey it really is true!!! Three things happened, and I know three more things will happen... I got home, ate dinner and then got tired!! OK, that proves it... Our bodies are just messed up and we really should have three brains.

1) A studio owner I know gets barraged on a weekly basis with requests from young engineers seeking employment. He says, "The Y-Generation walk around with signs on their heads that read,'I don't know much, I cost a lot, hire me!' I won't."

2) "Desperation has a way of befriending humility." Ben Makinen

3) What member of royalty said, "Music is my mistress"?

we love you madly!!

-the neighborhood

I look like this. Click here for what I sound like.

2006-10-10T21:05:00.000-06:00

A Radio Interview - Tips

2006-10-10T01:22:00.000-06:00

On-Air Radio Interview - KGNU 88.5 FM with host Bill Nyreges

[Thanks to modern technology you don't have to blast off into space and try to catch this broadcast as it speeds past Pluto, just link to it!]

http://www.benmakinen.com/music-42.html

Yesterday morning (Oct 9 2006) on-air host Bill Nyerges of FM community radio station KGNU 88.5 interviewed me on his Morning Sound Alternative show. The interview came together quickly through the use of the internet, and with a bit of luck and preparation. Bill had heard a few cds of mine earlier and said he liked them all, but each one fit different programs. We exchanged a flurry of emails that concluded with, "Come by the studio, bring the CDs for the MD to check out, and I may be able to get you on the air."

What follows contains some lessons on preparing for a radio interview.

As I drove to the studio in Boulder (and while getting lost despite having MapQuested it) I had his program tuned in. I was listening to the overall vibe of his broadcast so that if asked I could select a track from my material to best fit into his playlist.

I began running through my mind the replies to possible questions: My influences, current projects, how I got started. (I failed to anticipate, "What are some great stories from the road?")

When I pulled into the parking lot I got all my materials together (CDs, press releases, pens, promo photos, and business cards) and quickly re-read my press release on one of my older CDs to refresh my self on the back-story. I had my laptop with me and pulled up my CD's track listings and song lengths.

Evan, the engineer, took me into the studio, and I shook hands with the host. Bill suddenly turned to Evan, "We just lost the playlist." The station's playlist computer just went off line. Bill turns to me, "You got something short to play?"

I hand him my Lost Lullaby CD. As he loads it into the CD player I crack open my laptop and scan the time lengths.

"Track five, two minutes, thirteen." He punches in track 5, and the tune, Right On Track, starts just as the last song ends.

Bill lets out a breath, "Whew... Oh, that's one of my favorites. What else ya got on there?"

"Short, medium, or long?"

"Medium."

"Track number one, three fourteen."

I had bought them 5 and a half minutes of time for the engineer to get the computer back on line. I also had 2 of my songs played and got the on-air interview!

I was prepared when luck struck. The rest of the interview went smoothly - I scrambled to think of a good story from the road, and thought of some better ones when the mics were off, but when I was asked what my upcoming dates were I simply glanced down at my laptop and rattled off 4 or 5 upcoming shows with ease.

Be prepared, keep your cool, speak slowly, listen carefully, entertain your audience, and thank your host, on air, when the interview concludes.

Quote Of The Day

2006-10-07T18:55:00.000-06:00

A music store owner speaking to his salesmen behind the counter.

"Calculator. Where's a calculator? Hey guys, where's the calculator? How can you make a deal if you don't have a calculator?!"

Old Beef Jerky

2006-10-07T01:50:00.000-06:00

Got some old jerky that's too tough to chew? Before you toss it to your dog try this:

Place bite size pieces (use scissors if you must) into a bowl of steaming ramen,
cover for 2 minutes,
then take a bite,
close your eyes,
and find yourself in ramen heaven!

Bumper Sticker Of The Week

2006-10-06T23:19:00.000-06:00

"Those who vote decide NOTHING, those who count the votes decide EVERYTHING."

-Joseph Stalin

Dream Of The Ingloonka

2006-10-04T00:59:00.000-06:00

[I dreamt this not long ago.]

My wife, daughter and I are driving around town doing errends. I've got a coupon for a burrito restaurant, but I've got to locate the outlet that will accept the coupon. My wife and daughter go down the streeet to shop while I enter a cafe/bookstore to figure out the directions.

I'm sitting on a long bench facing a wall of books when a man to my right turns to me and says,"Have you heard of the Ingloonka?"

I knew I had heard of the instrument, but didn't know anything about it, so I said, "Yes."

"Well then you know how a reed interupts the flow of air to create a quarter tone waiver...", and he began to sing an example.

He sang a traditional song from some impoverished asian countryside and I was transported to that place and I watched and listened to a 10 year old girl sing a simple song to her god asking forgiveness.

As she sang I began to feel heartbroken by her earnest plea. The song described her day filled with chores done for the family. Only at the end of this sad song do we find out what she wanted forgiveness for: She had been carrying a bucket of water, tripped, spilled some, and fell on an ant killing it.

She felt so bad about the ant that she was begging God for forgiveness.
When the song ended everyone in the cafe, including myself, felt sadness and foolishness for the insensitivity with which we conduct our lives...

At that moment I met the guy sitting next to the singer and he was Giovanni Hidalgo [one of the world's greatest living conga players] and he was expressing a desire to improve his musical skills and his friend told him, "Man, you know how slow you learn!"

How To Blow Your Tip

2006-10-04T00:57:00.000-06:00

Scrunch up your face in disgust when you hear the customer's order and make a grossed-out sound.

Tonight I went in to a college bar and ordered an onion pizza to go.

Waitress: "Eeeeeuuuwww! Really? Okay."

Did I tip? Of course I tipped - she had a great set of personalities.

On Women

2006-10-04T00:54:00.000-06:00

A friend of mine is a forty-one year old divorced physicist and he says,

"Women are more complicated than photons...

With a photon you know it is either going to be a particle or a wave. You've got a 50/50 chance of knowing what it is going to be.

With a woman, your odds of knowing what she is going to be are more like one in a haystack."

Quote Of The Day

2006-10-04T00:51:00.000-06:00

Young woman overheard in coffee shop:

"Bush was elected on my 17th birthday and then he did it again and he ruined my 21st birthday."