Thursday, September 11, 2014
Beating The Not So Dead Horse...
Well, the saga continues. I’ve said a few times that I believe somebody is deathly afraid of me – afraid enough that they have sent highly trained people to make sure I never break out of the poverty level, and, that I never find my way to a bigger platform to speak from. I’ve also said that I never saw me as any threat to anybody, but it’s beyond obvious that somebody sure does.
Ok, here’s the latest. This, is on top of the countless other times that proved the quote, “Things do not just happen, they are made to happen”. About three weeks ago, I auditioned at the Casino, “Boomtown”. There is the “Guitar Bar” located inside. I called there, and the current entertainment director told me to audition a couple days later, which I did. Backpedalling just a little, I called the previous entertainment director (Katie) a few months earlier, only to get the classic runaround. Ok, so, I do the audition, along with two other acts. She approaches me (and not the other two – in fact, one guitar player looked like he said something nasty to the entertainment person) after my three songs and says, “We’re gonna get you in here, I’ll send you the email with the W-9, and the dates I have open, I’ll call you next week”. She never did call, but that’s pretty much par for the course. So, I waited two weeks and went down to the casino, at which time she did come down and briefly talk to me, she says, “Send me an email to this address and I’ll send you the W-9 and the open dates”. So, I went home and immediately sent her the email. She replies back with at attached W-9, but no list of open dates. I wait two more days, and I email her, asking if she’d forgotten about me. She replies now, with the classic runaround, “I haven’t done anything with the Guitar Bar”, and, “I’m booked through the end of October, and mostly through the end of the year”. This is after she originally said she was booked partway through October, then the next time all the way through October, now mostly through the end of the year (“I haven’t done anything with the Guitar Bar” – which is it?). I would almost bet my life that I will never set foot on the stage in the Guitar Bar, I recognize the classic runaround when I see it. My question is, why would she approach me, and not the other two acts at the audition, tell me about the W-9 and the open dates list, send me the W-9, then suddenly do an about face and start with the runaround? Easy answer – somebody got to her. For the first year and a half in this town, after countless efforts to contact the entertainment staff at the various casinos to no avail, I figured that maybe I was on some master shit list – it wasn’t hard to fathom that all the entertainment people and the local booking agents would talk to each other. After this, I’m not sure if it’s just the local Good Ol’ Boy network doing what it does, or if this crap is coming from higher up. I ran into a similar set of circumstances when I was in Oregon for the couple years I spent there – just before moving here to Reno. I figured it was the insanely jealous musician – Al Morales – who I believed was defaming me to the various entertainment people, and I’m sure it was, but it was strange that every one of them just automatically believed what he said, without asking me, just blatantly cutting off any and all communication – which seemed to be doing just fine before Al did whatever he did – and I’m not convinced that he didn’t do and say something. It makes sense that this stuff has been coming all along – from much higher up – on top of what the Al Morales’ of the world do. Keep in mind, this is not new, this is something that has been going on for most of my life – and looking back, it looks even more fishy than any of the situations did at the time. And I’m talking about going all the way back to when I was 8 years old (that I’m aware of).
As I said before, it makes the most sense that this has something to do with my dad, who is gone now, but was an activist of sorts. He started out in the 50s as a disc jockey – spinning records, then in the 80s, started doing talk radio – first sports, then politics, social issues, current events, etc. He was very controversial, in fact, all the radio station owners in the state of Hawaii were deathly afraid that they were going to be sued because my dad was surely going to say something to offend the wrong people. Well, my dad knew the laws, the main part being that you cannot be sued as long as there is proof of your allegations. He was on the receiving end of many death threats, he had callers who berated him, and he was fired from every station he worked for, in spite of the fact that he always had among the highest ratings – and there were quite a few stations that he'd worked for. He not only interviewed celebrities, but he also had, right there on the air – mercenaries, military commanders, hit men, and other such people that we normal folks never hear about. This was before the internet, he would receive letters from people who supported his allegations with undeniable proof, and information that would cause most people’s heads to explode. My dad spent the last fifteen years of his life mostly in seclusion, not by choice, more by the control and demand of the girlfriend he had the misfortune of being with. He had worn out all chances of working at any radio station long before, so I guess he just finally gave up. He died being just eight years older than I am now.
I’m not ready to throw up my hands just yet. Yes, I’m tired, and I’m disgusted, but that motivates me even more to want to get somewhere in this horrid music business. I’m not sure what I would do as far as being any kind of activist – I pretty much burned out on that about five years ago, I figured I’ll leave it up to the youngsters to do the fighting. As for whoever it is that has been seeing to it that I never climb out of this gaping hole that I’ve been in for most of my life, I’ve called them out many times, but they continue to hide in the bushes while they play their little chicken shit game. I don’t know what they think I’m going to do, and there is even the possibility that some kind of agreement might likely be reached, but that will never happen as long as they continue to hide. I cannot think of anything more cowardly.
I don’t have answers, just observations – lots and lots of creepy, bizarre observations. I believe there is no chance of my working here in Reno, maybe anywhere. I continue to try to find other avenues for income, other avenues to get my music out to the masses, but I don’t see any light at the end of any tunnel just yet, in fact, I can’t even see the tunnel, just mostly darkness, shadows, and bullshit.