the end of the rainbow.

a rant, as it were.

i was hanging out with some people a few days ago at this bar in hollywood. this place is known for being the rock and roll bar in town. or was, anyway. its reputation is well-known. the joint's infamous for some serious rock and roll debauchery. i remember reading of bands like motley and van halen holding court there for days in the 80's. the days where i'd hear of the most insane things happening behind those walls.

of course, i was too young to go there back then. but (quite) a few years have passed since i became of legal age, so i'm now able to see some of this first-hand. to be honest, it's not as though i go looking for this kind of stuff. (i don't. really, i don't.) but it is nice to watch it as some sort of cautionary example.

over the years, i've seen the place just turn into nothing more than a travesty with a smoking patio. some of the most depressing people i've ever seen seem to call this place home, and any new blood is only drawn there because of what it used to be. i can't tell you how many times i craned my neck to see someone i thought was someone "famous," only to remember that the person i thought it was now has short hair, doesn't wear their own damn band t-shirt, doesn't weigh that much, and probably wouldn't be caught dead in this place to begin with. i have a feeling that most of our l.a. rock and roll forefathers abandoned this venue a long time ago.

is it a shell of itself? or have i just moved beyond the desires of the everyday l.a. rocker wannabe? surely there's more to life than being a 50 year-old, mullet-wearing, leather pants-stretching, second-hand smoke-belching, ratt t-shirt-wearing has-been who talks incessantly of the "good old days?" is this the shit i get to look forward to in my later years?

nearly all of the people i was with spoke of how out of place they felt there. at the risk of being perceived as some sort of elitist, i must agree. i look at some of the people who frequent this place, and tell myself "don't ever be THAT. don't ever let anyone turn you into THAT."

and as some 4'9" 50 year-old blond with horrible teeth - dressed up like the hooker you always think of when you think of a really hideous hooker - walks up to me and tries to strike up a conversation, all i can do is wonder if she's at this place so often that she gets her mail here.

yeah, that sucked to write as much as it sucks to read. but this is a rant, so i'm keeping it.

sometimes i wonder if being a professional musician is all it's cracked up to be. i mean, it's not exactly a glamorous lifestyle, no matter what one might think (or tell you). the audience sees 1 hour of stage time. what they don't see are the hours spent in rehearsal (rehearsing sucks), hours in vans, hours spent on the side of the road due to broken-down vans, bad motels, bad road food, dickhead club owners/managers/sound monkeys, arguments, bills, etc. and as for money - i'm scraping by every month. the shit you see on eMpTV is so out of reach, and to be honest, i don't know that i'd ever want it anyway. i think i'd rather be poor and true to what i believe, than a wealthy sell-out who doesn't even like what he does anymore.

and that's the thing that i keep coming back to. the inescapable, almost-indescribable thing that i carry with me - the thing i unintentionally and sometimes unknowingly display every time i'm on a stage -the thing that people see the most in my playing:

i love what i do. absolutely love it. every time i'm on stage with my friends, playing music i've helped create - every time i walk into a control room after laying down a successful drum track - every time a student looks at me during a lesson and says, "i get it!" - i am reminded of why i took this sometimes-crazy course in life.

so in the end, i consider myself blessed beyond measure, and i thank my Creator for my blessings.

but let's be honest, people. a little cash wouldn't suck.