Well, here we are - three weeks into this thing called pancreatitis recovery, and all seems okay. I still get a slight throb every now and again, but I honestly think that comes when I don't drink enough fluids ( a glass of water or water-Gatorade and I'm a-ok). The alcohol thing really doesn't bother me as much as I initially thought it would, though I must admit I still miss a few cold brews now and again. In September, Stifler's Mom (the band I play bass for) will be playing an outdoor event at a campground; this event will be sponsored by New Belgium Brewing Company. I hope to partake by then...
Speaking of Stifler's Mom, we played another duff gig this past Saturday. No big drama like the gig at the beginning of May - just a dead-space gig. To be fair, it was Memorial Day Weekend; people just weren't out at the bars this weekend, I suppose. I sure hope June turns out to be a better gigging month than May was; we'll be playing a couple of familiar haunts, so we'll see...
Back to my gut...the hard part of this lifestyle change isn't the alcohol so much as it is the fatty foods part. When Gina and myself went out to eat for the first time after my attack (almost two weeks later), we went to this Greek/Mediterranean place in the Cherry Creek Mall, where I proceeded to order the Falafel plate. Falafel is deep-fried. My pancreas decided to remind me in no uncertain terms that falafel is, indeed, deep-fried. Since then, I've been more careful. I've introduced proteins, tomato, and onion back into my diet with no ill effects other than the aforementioned slight throb (actually just a sensation - not quite pain - to remind me that I do have a pancreas and I might want to be aware of that), but I'm still leery of going to Benny's and ordering the Sloppy Burrito w/beans and chicharrones...that's not gonna happen for a good while...
I think that's it for now...time to go shave my head...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
...it burns, it burns...
Early on May 5th, I was struck with a sharp pain in my side. I woke Gina up and told her,"...now, don't panic, but...". Of course, if she were to wake me up and look at me and say those words, I'd panic...we had to rush me to the emergency room at 1 in the morning and they x-rayed me, stuck me w/an IV...I was in massive pain (like my gall bladder pain a few years back), bazooka barfing, the whole works! Anyway, I thought it might be kidney stones...turned out to be pancreatitis...they gave me the option to stay in the emergency room or get home care. We chose home care. So they discharged me an gave me instructions; part of which stated that I was to eat small more frequent meals rather than large meals...finally got an appointment w/the gastroenterologist on Thursday(the 8th), and he put me on an all-liquid diet; indeed, he was rather surprised that I was not already on a liquid diet. Anyway, it was water, juice, popsicles, Jell-o, and broth until Tuesday (the 13th), when I finally got the blessing to eat bland, mostly solid foods (white toast, applesauce, rice, etc.)...I've been steadily but slowly building up my belly for regular food, I've been drinking plenty of juices and water, and things are feeling better inside my gut...apparently, one of the main causes of pancreatitis is excessive alcohol use. Ergo, as of early May 5th (Cinco de Mayo, go figure!), I have effectively stopped drinking alcohol. I suppose sometime further on down the line, I could have a beer or two, but that really is further down the line (6 months to a year minimum), and I'm not even 100% sure about that...I pretty much have to cut down on high fat foods...I suppose in a way, it's a blessing in disguise. My senses of taste and smell, however, don't agree...
So I'm grinning and bearing it...all things considered, it could be worse. I suppose that's it for now...I will let you know how things pan out...
So I'm grinning and bearing it...all things considered, it could be worse. I suppose that's it for now...I will let you know how things pan out...
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Ouch...
On early Monday morning I was diagnosed with pancreatitis. Further developments as they occur.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Well, the weekend...
This past Friday, our band played at a place called The Rock & Roll Grill, an all-ages non-alcoholic club in the heart of Downtown. Gina (my lovely wife) had dropped me off at the place (actually, in the $10.00 parking lot at the end of the block) and I took out my equipment and shambled over. I'd met Mitch (our singer) at the door and proceeded to go in, and the doorman (whom I later found out was part-owner) stopped me and asked, as I attempted to simultaneously drag my bass amp, bass guitar, and gig bag into the 'venue' (more on that later) "Are you with a band?" I thought it was funny, actually. I chuckled a d told him, "Stifler's Mom", and Mitch corroborated my statement. So I went in (got my hand stamped, though maybe that occurred before I left to forage for food), took my equipment downstairs (with Mitch and his son Ian helping out), and surveyed the area. Yes, we were playing downstairs (The R&R G has 2 stages - upstairs and downstairs - and Stifler's Mom had the downstairs area). Let me give you a little more background on the type of gig this was. This was a benefit for a couple of organizations called Sick Gurlz and Sox Place, charities that help street kids. The name of the event itself was 'Punk's Alive', and was supposed to be an 8-band event, with an $8 cover charge, which I thought was going to charity...When I got there, I'd noticed that the cover charge was $10...not $8 as originally agreed upon, but $10. So we went downstairs with my stuff. Evidently, the place was an old speakeasy back in the good ol' days, w/the metal doors and everything. Evidently, the place hadn't been swept since the end of Prohibition. Evidently, the stage for the bands was 'constructed' that afternoon. More on that later. No, really.
Anyway, I got my equipment situated, and went to go eat. I came back, and the place was starting to fill up. As I'd stated before, this is an all-ages non-alcoholic venue. This means that the majority of the patrons were ages 10-16. I felt like a chaperone. Now, the event was supposed to start at 7:30, but didn't get going until about 8:15 or so. Fair enough - a lot of shows start late, no big deal. Gina had shown up at about 9 ish or so with our friend Holly, who uses forearm crutches to get around. Going downstairs was a real treat for her, I'm sure (there was no elevator, and the stairs themselves were a bit rickety, and the handrail wasn't connected at the top - only at the bottom and the middle), but she managed. They caught the band 'Ill Will', who came on right before us (both 'Ill Will' and 'Fulcrum', the first band to play downstairs, were awesome). So then we went up. I started putting my stuff on the stage, and I notice it's made of particle board. I really didn't think about it - I just was taping my cords down and trying to get set up. So we started ("Ace of Spades") and things seemed to go fairly smoothly, but after that first song, my amp cut out. No sound from it whatsoever. So...we ran my bass through the PA system the place had down there, and we soldiered on...well, by the fourth or fifth song, my foot went right through the stage. I should point out at this point that we are a fairly energetic band and that we jump around a lot on stage. Well, I guess I hit the weak spot on the stage. My foot went right through. For a split second I thought I had to go to the emergency room, but I took a brief assessment of the situation, and, since I felt no wrenching pain (only the slightest twinge), I figured I was okay. So I kept playing (our guitarist Mike, in fact, joined me in the hole for a brief time). We went on with our set, and I noticed that the space in front of the hole was rather weak as well. It was particle board, and ready to fall apart. Needless to say, the hole just bigger (I'm a big guy, and we're a high energy act - what can I say?), and then we ended. Right away, I knew there would be trouble because the doorman (1/2 owner) started asking about 'What happened? Who did this?" Well, we tried to explain what went on as far as my falling through the stage, etc., but he didn't care. Evidently, there was another plank on the stage that was supposed to cover up that whole weak spot. Well, there was a plank, but it wasn't covering much up - it evidently had gotten moved off to the side as each band got on, played, and got off the stage. By the time we got on, it was just there, a bit in the way (no one told us what its purpose was until afterwards, and no one from the venue felt it necessary to check to make sure it hadn't gotten loose - again, until afterwards). So the guy starts taking pictures of the hole w/his cell phone, as do the other employees. And he starts rumbling about, 'Well, we need to take care of this', etc. At one point, Gina had offered to go to Home Depot to buy them some particle board, and he said, "That's not the point!" He was all concerned about who had moved that second plank. As if a plank of wood/particle board, improperly affixed and secured, could withstand four hours of punk rock bands...No, punchy, I think the point is that you had a stage made out of PARTICLE BOARD, covered by planks of wood/particle board that looked that they'd been haphazardly screwed into the stage to begin with...I very well could have broken my leg on that ramshackle construction; THAT'S the point! Anyway, we just left. I mean, the whole band just left. Fuck all that, anyway...I'd later found out that the ladies from the charities had shown up and the bouncer/owner had wanted them to pay full cover. Needless to say, they left. Hell, they even wanted to make Mitch pay for his son! I think it's safe to say that we'll never play there again. Of course, I was worried that some trouble would come out of it (Gina took a chunk of the 'stage' with her; partly as a souvenir, partly as 'Exhibit A', just in case), so I didn't get much sleep over it. Saturday was a better day over all - I hung out at home, and in the evening Gina and I went to go see Margaret Cho at the Paramount Theatre. We took the light rail, and got there in plenty of time. Her opening act, Ian Harvie, was born a woman but feels like he was born in the wrong body. Needless to say, he struck a comedic goldmine with his routine. Funny as hell. As, of course, was Margaret Cho. Afterwards, we went to The Rock Bottom Bar & Grill and had food & libations (beer & nachos), then went home. On the light rail. I love the light rail...today we went for Indian food and shopped for groceries...that's it for this weekend, I suppose - if I think of anything else, I'll let ya know...
Anyway, I got my equipment situated, and went to go eat. I came back, and the place was starting to fill up. As I'd stated before, this is an all-ages non-alcoholic venue. This means that the majority of the patrons were ages 10-16. I felt like a chaperone. Now, the event was supposed to start at 7:30, but didn't get going until about 8:15 or so. Fair enough - a lot of shows start late, no big deal. Gina had shown up at about 9 ish or so with our friend Holly, who uses forearm crutches to get around. Going downstairs was a real treat for her, I'm sure (there was no elevator, and the stairs themselves were a bit rickety, and the handrail wasn't connected at the top - only at the bottom and the middle), but she managed. They caught the band 'Ill Will', who came on right before us (both 'Ill Will' and 'Fulcrum', the first band to play downstairs, were awesome). So then we went up. I started putting my stuff on the stage, and I notice it's made of particle board. I really didn't think about it - I just was taping my cords down and trying to get set up. So we started ("Ace of Spades") and things seemed to go fairly smoothly, but after that first song, my amp cut out. No sound from it whatsoever. So...we ran my bass through the PA system the place had down there, and we soldiered on...well, by the fourth or fifth song, my foot went right through the stage. I should point out at this point that we are a fairly energetic band and that we jump around a lot on stage. Well, I guess I hit the weak spot on the stage. My foot went right through. For a split second I thought I had to go to the emergency room, but I took a brief assessment of the situation, and, since I felt no wrenching pain (only the slightest twinge), I figured I was okay. So I kept playing (our guitarist Mike, in fact, joined me in the hole for a brief time). We went on with our set, and I noticed that the space in front of the hole was rather weak as well. It was particle board, and ready to fall apart. Needless to say, the hole just bigger (I'm a big guy, and we're a high energy act - what can I say?), and then we ended. Right away, I knew there would be trouble because the doorman (1/2 owner) started asking about 'What happened? Who did this?" Well, we tried to explain what went on as far as my falling through the stage, etc., but he didn't care. Evidently, there was another plank on the stage that was supposed to cover up that whole weak spot. Well, there was a plank, but it wasn't covering much up - it evidently had gotten moved off to the side as each band got on, played, and got off the stage. By the time we got on, it was just there, a bit in the way (no one told us what its purpose was until afterwards, and no one from the venue felt it necessary to check to make sure it hadn't gotten loose - again, until afterwards). So the guy starts taking pictures of the hole w/his cell phone, as do the other employees. And he starts rumbling about, 'Well, we need to take care of this', etc. At one point, Gina had offered to go to Home Depot to buy them some particle board, and he said, "That's not the point!" He was all concerned about who had moved that second plank. As if a plank of wood/particle board, improperly affixed and secured, could withstand four hours of punk rock bands...No, punchy, I think the point is that you had a stage made out of PARTICLE BOARD, covered by planks of wood/particle board that looked that they'd been haphazardly screwed into the stage to begin with...I very well could have broken my leg on that ramshackle construction; THAT'S the point! Anyway, we just left. I mean, the whole band just left. Fuck all that, anyway...I'd later found out that the ladies from the charities had shown up and the bouncer/owner had wanted them to pay full cover. Needless to say, they left. Hell, they even wanted to make Mitch pay for his son! I think it's safe to say that we'll never play there again. Of course, I was worried that some trouble would come out of it (Gina took a chunk of the 'stage' with her; partly as a souvenir, partly as 'Exhibit A', just in case), so I didn't get much sleep over it. Saturday was a better day over all - I hung out at home, and in the evening Gina and I went to go see Margaret Cho at the Paramount Theatre. We took the light rail, and got there in plenty of time. Her opening act, Ian Harvie, was born a woman but feels like he was born in the wrong body. Needless to say, he struck a comedic goldmine with his routine. Funny as hell. As, of course, was Margaret Cho. Afterwards, we went to The Rock Bottom Bar & Grill and had food & libations (beer & nachos), then went home. On the light rail. I love the light rail...today we went for Indian food and shopped for groceries...that's it for this weekend, I suppose - if I think of anything else, I'll let ya know...
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Randomness, I think...
I just ate a whole lemon. By myself. Of course, 2/3 of it was consumed as part of two (2) massive hot toddies (I didn't say 'by itself')...
I really abhor being ill. Right after my birthday, I'd caught this nasty headcold-type bug, which mutated into a horrible sore throat bug (the painful swallowing, my head felt the size of Australia, etc.). It finally went away around the middle of April; just in time for our vacation, wherein we ventured out to Las Vegas, NV! Of course, once I got back, it was only a few days before I started having that rundown feeling again. Nothing hurts as much as it did a month ago (my throat feels a little sore; but only a little, like when you don't drink anything all day, +1), but I still hate it (hot toddies help - no, really - and they help you forget that you're, uh...forget that you're, um...yeah...).
I really should be practicing right now. We have a gig tomorrow (at some place called the Rock & Roll Grill); it's called "Punk's Alive", a 'punk festival' of sorts, with 8 bands and 2 stages, Our band, Stifler's Mom, is the ostensible headliner. And why do I use the word 'ostensible'? Well, The R&R Grill is an all-ages club that does not sell liquor. I'm all for that - younger folk need a few places to rock out to as well. Thing is, there's a 10 PM curfew for underagers in this city (I just found this out)...I don't think Stifler's Mom goes on until about 11PM...hmmmmm...this should pan out well...in addition to that, it'll be our first gig w/our new guitarist, Dylan. Dylan is a cool dude, from what I can tell (he is, after all the new guitarist, and there will be that 'getting-to-know-you' phase), and he sure plays a mean guitar (I'm not sure about his pinball skills). Here's the deal, though. we were supposed to have a full band rehearsal with him on Sunday night. Our drummer, Brian, never made it (he works in a hospital, on-call on weekends, and, uh, he got called in). Sooooo...we've all played with him as a band twice before (both times w/Bob, our soon-to-be ex-guitarist, playing as well). This ought to be interesting. At least we're not playing on Saturday. We would have, but none of us had actually seen the place (Mitch, our booking agent/singer, had made arrangement w/the guy over the web/phone or whatever). So after practice on Sunday night, I went there to check it out. I got there to find the parking lot completely empty (save my own increasingly vulnerable vehicle - not the best part of town), and a hand-lettered sing on the door which read, in part, "Due 2 liquor violation, we will be closed Friday, Saturday, and Sunday...Grand Re-Opening Monday, Apr. 28 2 PM". I looked at the hand-lettered-with-colored-pencils sign and thought to myself,' Is the owner a Prince fan?'; then I tried to peek through the windows. The windows were tinted all to hell, and I couldn't see a damn thing. I called Mike (our other guitarist - one of the coolest guys you'll ever meet, if you do indeed meet him) and told him what I saw, and we'd made tentative plans to go there the following day. Well, he called the following day not too long after I'd gotten off of work, and he told me that, since he was in the neighborhood anyway, he'd just go down there and call me to give a lowdown. Well...evidently, there were six (6) men in the joint, all in jeans and wife-beaters, all suckin' down suds...the owner comes out and is very officious - 'yes sir - how can I help you?' and all that (Mike was in his work clothes, which consisted of shirtsleeves and slacks - I suppose the owner thought he was from the city {all city employees are required to wear shirtsleeve and slacks, but no shirt}). Mike says,'I'm in the band'. The owner queries, 'What band?' And I'm sure you can imagine all the hilarity that ensues. Mike told him we were a Southern Rock band, just to make things interesting (we are NOT a Southern Rock band)...needless to say, we're not playing this place on Saturday...anyway, that's all for now...
I really abhor being ill. Right after my birthday, I'd caught this nasty headcold-type bug, which mutated into a horrible sore throat bug (the painful swallowing, my head felt the size of Australia, etc.). It finally went away around the middle of April; just in time for our vacation, wherein we ventured out to Las Vegas, NV! Of course, once I got back, it was only a few days before I started having that rundown feeling again. Nothing hurts as much as it did a month ago (my throat feels a little sore; but only a little, like when you don't drink anything all day, +1), but I still hate it (hot toddies help - no, really - and they help you forget that you're, uh...forget that you're, um...yeah...).
I really should be practicing right now. We have a gig tomorrow (at some place called the Rock & Roll Grill); it's called "Punk's Alive", a 'punk festival' of sorts, with 8 bands and 2 stages, Our band, Stifler's Mom, is the ostensible headliner. And why do I use the word 'ostensible'? Well, The R&R Grill is an all-ages club that does not sell liquor. I'm all for that - younger folk need a few places to rock out to as well. Thing is, there's a 10 PM curfew for underagers in this city (I just found this out)...I don't think Stifler's Mom goes on until about 11PM...hmmmmm...this should pan out well...in addition to that, it'll be our first gig w/our new guitarist, Dylan. Dylan is a cool dude, from what I can tell (he is, after all the new guitarist, and there will be that 'getting-to-know-you' phase), and he sure plays a mean guitar (I'm not sure about his pinball skills). Here's the deal, though. we were supposed to have a full band rehearsal with him on Sunday night. Our drummer, Brian, never made it (he works in a hospital, on-call on weekends, and, uh, he got called in). Sooooo...we've all played with him as a band twice before (both times w/Bob, our soon-to-be ex-guitarist, playing as well). This ought to be interesting. At least we're not playing on Saturday. We would have, but none of us had actually seen the place (Mitch, our booking agent/singer, had made arrangement w/the guy over the web/phone or whatever). So after practice on Sunday night, I went there to check it out. I got there to find the parking lot completely empty (save my own increasingly vulnerable vehicle - not the best part of town), and a hand-lettered sing on the door which read, in part, "Due 2 liquor violation, we will be closed Friday, Saturday, and Sunday...Grand Re-Opening Monday, Apr. 28 2 PM". I looked at the hand-lettered-with-colored-pencils sign and thought to myself,' Is the owner a Prince fan?'; then I tried to peek through the windows. The windows were tinted all to hell, and I couldn't see a damn thing. I called Mike (our other guitarist - one of the coolest guys you'll ever meet, if you do indeed meet him) and told him what I saw, and we'd made tentative plans to go there the following day. Well, he called the following day not too long after I'd gotten off of work, and he told me that, since he was in the neighborhood anyway, he'd just go down there and call me to give a lowdown. Well...evidently, there were six (6) men in the joint, all in jeans and wife-beaters, all suckin' down suds...the owner comes out and is very officious - 'yes sir - how can I help you?' and all that (Mike was in his work clothes, which consisted of shirtsleeves and slacks - I suppose the owner thought he was from the city {all city employees are required to wear shirtsleeve and slacks, but no shirt}). Mike says,'I'm in the band'. The owner queries, 'What band?' And I'm sure you can imagine all the hilarity that ensues. Mike told him we were a Southern Rock band, just to make things interesting (we are NOT a Southern Rock band)...needless to say, we're not playing this place on Saturday...anyway, that's all for now...
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