The Jane & Scott Show

So it snowed some more today. Y’all probably noticed. Very inconveniently, my windshield wiper blades decided that today would be the way they would begin to detach. The drive to school was a little scary – not only were snowflakes blowing all over the place (they are very hard to ignore when they’re going in all different directions. . .), but my wiper blades were wiggling all over the place, both distracting and supremely ineffective. It sort of sums up the way I’m feeling about must of my activities these days. Lots of movement – not a lot of clarity.

I decided to get back to the ‘hood after class and fix the windshield wipers before I killed someone instead of going to the internship. I had no idea there were so many different sizes for windshield wiper blades. This, my friends, is why it’s important to have a tape measure stashed in your automobile, your purse, and possibly all your coats. I got my blades and went home. There I spent twenty wet, chilly minutes figuring out how to take the old blades off and put the new ones on, with an audience of three noisily anxious canines.

Now I have an hour-ish before I have to pick up our weekly CSA box, so I’m chilling at San Francisco Coffee. I’m having this weird, comfy de ja vu – like I’m back at the Dugout in Portland. (The Dugout was like the living room for every broke ass bohemian in the neighborhood whose apartment didn’t have one – which was most of us.)The guy sitting next to me is chatty but not scary, the music is late eighties, and the barista comes over to sit on chair arms and hang out. It’s warm. Dimly lit with golds and browns, it smells like coffee and cinnamon. Neighborhood coffee shops are so fantastic. This one is making everything else feel not quite as overwhelming – or at least, the smells seem to keep the stress outside with the snow flakes.

The game for people of all levels of age, skill and intoxication. . .

Christmas madness is winding down.
Notable moments:
1. Having the bag of grits I brought home for my parents swabbed for drug residue.
2. Small children in cow and donkey costumes vastly improving the meaning of Christmas eve mass.
3. 13 crazy christmas sweaters, 3 ties, 2 hats and one pair of christmas earrings spotted at the airport on the way in. Also a partridge in a pear tree.
4. Backyard Bocci ball. Nuff said.
5. I learned about Growlers. I have my first, and am excited to discover whether southern microbreweries will refill it.

I’ve extricated myself from the loving embrace of family on the coast and finished the first leg of the return journey. I’m holing up at my sister’s place in Hood River for a couple of days before I get on the plane. Family time is always fun, though I inevitably leave with sensory overload on every level; from the emotional hangover to the feeling that I’ve had enough really good food and drink to put an army into a food coma. In spite of all of my best attempts at moderation, it’s probably a good thing for all of us that Christmas only happens once a year. Notable failures to the moderation attempt included my sister’s crab quiche, my mother’s potato pancakes, and several unbelievably tasty Oregon microbrew options that I can’t get in Atlanta. Yum. I did contribute something veggie to every meal, which was received with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Tofu ricotta = skepticism. Roasted sweet potatoes = vacuumed.

In addition to the fabulous food, the trip included multiple trips to the beach and the dunes, (Jogging in the dunes = buns of steel and pain!) fires in the back fire pit and the livingroom, and the requisite exchanges of books and music that happen whenever we all get together. I’ve got several new Neko Case albums and a book I need to get through before I leave so I can return in to my Dad.

Hood River is covered with snow. There are three different coffee shops within a few slippery blocks from my sister’s place, and not a single one is a Starbucks. (ah, bliss! I am in Oregon!) Two quail just trotted across the driveway, and I can look out the window over old town, the river and the snow covered cliffs on the other side of the gorge. It’s amazing. I’ve also had warm, snuggly company every night in the form of my sister’s dog, who has me wrapped around his little toe. So life is good, but it will be good to get back to the routine and my own pack tomorrow night.

Update: 6 a.m. left Hood River to crunch through the snow on the recently plowed and re-opened freeway toward the airport. My sister gets major points, since once we arrived, she had to turn around and go back. My thoughts on mornings and airports are as follows:
1. salespeople should not be allowed to accost you for skymiles cards until at least 9 a.m.
2. Damn, I look sexy with red eyes and six layers of clothes on that won’t fit in my carry on.
3. Fuck that guy that tried to blow up the plane on Christmas eve for making getting through security even more of a pain than it was before.
4. Hooray for Portland airport and wireless! (I have been without for a couple of days at my sister’s place)
5. I’m really glad the obsessively barking terrier is not leaving from my gate. . . just have to watch out for two-year-olds now. (disclaimer: I like two year olds, but not when they’re screaming on planes)

It’s raining.

mmmm. . .vacation. . .

Such a lame way to start a post, but there it is.  And it’s effing pervasive – outside ever window, tracking across the kitchen from the doggie door, pounding on the roof. . . dripping off he dog curled up in the middle of my bed. Sigh.

(ordinarily I like the sound of rain on the roof, but not today, I’ve decided)  No bike ride for me.  Booh.  Yes, dear Oregonian readers, I am aware that it’s possible to bike in the rain, but really. . . do you?  When you don’t have to?

Well, I guess that makes me a pussy.  I’m over it.

The other two don't sit still much.

On the upside though, it makes the Christmas decorations in here look that much cozier  I went a little crazy on my first real day of Christmas break and put greens and Christmas lights on every available surface. (Reason number 307 to go back to school: you get Christmas vacation again!!) . . .and then made gingerbread cookies.  Which are awesome.  Blackstrap molasses is one of Gods greatest gifts to peoplekind.  I might have to brave the weather and go get some frosting and decorating paraphernalia. (new thing learned for the day: how to spell paraphernalia.  Two ‘r’s.  Who knew?)

Oh, and since this is ostensibly a musically related blog, here’s your friendly reminder that we’re playing tomorrow night at Smith’s Old Bar for the Wonderroot Winter Soulstice Benefit.  The whole thing should be well worth dodging raindrops; art, lotsa bands, good people, etc.  Hope to see you there!

First of all, thanks to everyone who came out on Hurricane Tuesday.  I’m not really sure what it is about our rock shows that calls down the rain, but I want you all to know that the Jane and Scott Show does it’s part to mitigate the drought.  Which, BTW, contrary to this retarded headline, is NOT over.  I know we’re all grateful for the rain, but the fact is that our whole region is using a lot more water than nature provides, and it isn’t going to end any time soon.

Public service announcement.  You’re Welcome.

Anyway – what I really wanted to talk about in this blog is the place that I grew up.  It’s a small town – ten thousandish? (back me up, here Benders)  Four hours away from the nearest city, but only ten minutes from the Pacific Ocean.  Our neighborhood was right up the hill from the Coos Bay, and while I was growing up, it was teaming with young families.  I had two best friends, a boy across the street named Ryan, and a girl across the back yard named Kathleen.  Ryan is the first person I remember learning King Arthur stories from.  We’d have extended quarter staff battles with broom handles, and raid his sisters awesome dress-up box for appropriately warrior like attire.  I don’t remember my characters, but I do remember that he always got to be Lancelot.

Kathleen had a kick ass Barbie Collection. (my mom was reticent with the girlie toys – looking back I imagine it had something to do with promoting gender equality/not forcing gender roles, but at the time I found it very frustrating.)  She also had one of those horses on the springs you could ride, a swingset, and a little sister who spent a lot of time ordering my baby brothers around.  Even before they could talk, really.   Kathleen and I played princess games, in which she got to be princess most of the time, because she had better hair for it.  We used to bully my little brothers into being princes for us. (My King Arthur games with Ryan did not broaden my mind sufficiently to make me kiss the sleeping princess, and Ryan always managed to be absent for the princess stuff.)  Hank got wise to the whole thing pretty quickly, but Duke used to be fairly amiable about the whole thing.  Amiable enough that he was allowed into the tree house and given an honorary title, at any rate.

Divorces and Jobs did what they do, and our little cabal was definitively disbanded by the time we were eight, I think.  Now we come to the reason I told you all of this.  Of the characters mentioned above, Ryan, Michelle, Duke and myself are all fronting relatively successful local rock bands.  Really.   I don’t know if it’s from growing up with the smell of mud-flats, or what, but check out these links:

Shadow Strategy Task Force

Makeout Point

The Jane and Scott Show (oh, wait. .  .you’re already here.  Good for you!)

The Toy Soldiers

And then go find a producer for a When Simpson Heights Rocked the Water Tour.

I’ve already posted it on the shows page.  I’ve sent my facebook invites.  I’ve given everybody who didn’t avoid eye contact flyers. . .I’ve done it all, but now I’m writing a blog.   Because the alternative is writing a paper that  I don’t want to write. Damn the man!  Save the Empire!

This show is exciting for several reasons:

1. It’s on a Tuesday Nigh! Yesss! I know, you’re thinking Tuesday nights are for people who can’t get shows on Saturday nights. . .but really, this is awesome because everybody needs a break in the middle of the week, and we start playing right after Tuesday night classes end.  It’s a perfect way to shake off Evidence.

2. This is our second fully loaded rock show – we’ll be followed by Seraphix and Cool Kid Collective.

3. They video.  If you charge the stage you could be famous on YouTube!!

4. $5.00 cover.  Again, this may initially seem like a detriment, but actually, it is a signal that you have excellent taste, and your favorite band (us, obviously) is moving up in the world and getting gigs at venues that can charge covers. . .

5.  FREE CD to everyone who brings a friend who’s never been!

See you next week!

I’m awake. I will probably be happier tomorrow if I sleep soon. But I probably won’t. Sleep soon, that is. My happiness is, always, unpredictable and dependent on a all kinds of weird things.

1. New Moon. Yes, I’m going. Yes, probably incognito. And yes, I prefer Jacob. Mock all you want. I will now try to salvage some remnants of my pride as an emancipated woman and point out that Edward is an overbearing, bossy prig who wins every argument because he’s older and stronger and I wholeheartedly disagree with many of the Disney Princess values that un-subtly shine through the books. I also disagree with the craptacular production values of the last film. (and I use that term loosely)
That being said, I’m still going.

2. Nuts. I must crack walnuts tomorrow so I can make pancakes on Saturday. . .I hope they crack nicely instead of exploding everywhere. I hope I don’t hammer my thumb again.

3. Church. Should I become an Episcopalian? Does it really matter what I claim as a denomination when I haven’t been to a service since last Christmas? It seems to matter, because Catholicism has suddenly become painful to be a part of. Better to think of nuts.

4. Nuts. I think God invented walnuts just for people like me. People who can’t make their brains be quiet, and who need something picky and demanding of all their attention to focus all their energy. So God gave me black walnuts and scrabble. And Scott.

5. Halloween. I put up a hankie-ghost. It pretty much just looks like a hankie. But maybe that’s what ghosts look like, when you can see them at all. Like an old handkerchief that went through the wash with something red at some point, draped over a walnut (they’re everywhere) and hanging by a twisty tie to the porch light.
Next time you see one, ask it what it wants. That’s how you help them cross over.
But don’t ask the one on our porch – it’s a fake. In fact, after Halloween I’m going to crack the walnut and eat its little spectral brains. Or put them in pancakes.

6. Hankies. Maybe I’ll wash it with bleach. The whole hankie concept is kinda gross. It’s like saving snot and sweat in your pocket all day.

7. Louie Armstrong. Ew. I hope he never blew his nose in the one he was always wiping his face with. I guess he’s allowed to do whatever he wants. Privileges of being awesome. I bet if he came back as a ghost he’d get a whole sheet, not just a hankie. . . although a hankie would be sort of appropriate. Maybe a really, really big one. But Satch probably went straight to heaven.

8. I’m pretty sure dogs go there, too. Someone once explained to me that you only go to heaven if you have a soul, and you only have a soul if you have self-awareness and thought, and since dogs aren’t self-aware beings, they don’t get to go to heaven. Psh. To that I say this: I know a lot of self aware people that are awful. Plus, heaven is supposed to be great. How can it be that good without dogs? I wonder what the Episcopalians think about that?

9. I’m finally getting sleepy. Boring myself. Rox looks very comfy on my bed.

10. I need to crack some nuts tomorrow. . .

That’s sort of misleading, isn’t it?  Georgia doesn’t seem to get dry summers.  They’re sort of long, moist and sticky.  Not in that good way.  Aaaanyway, it was dry for the purposes of you poor, parched Jane and Scott Show lovers, because we weren’t playing much.  We were hiding away, making an acoustic show into a rock show, recording an EP, and sitting on the air conditioning vent.  (Ok, that was Maggie, but mentally, we were with her.)

We are now well into the Fall, having returned with a rocktacular show at Red Light, and all of a sudden things are happening.

So just in case you’ve missed it, here’s a recap and a couple of  teasers:

1.)  August 15th:  The first full Jane and Scott rock show at Red Light.  There was noise, there was a drummer, and the sound guy thought Jane’s mom was hot.

2.) August 17th: School started, and with it writing for the paper, getting into the environment and another rash of escapist song writing.

3.) Sept. 10th: Jane and Molly find each other, and the Great White Bass is sent to stand in the corner facing the wall. (Don’t worry, his story has a happy ending later)

4.) Sept. . . somewhere in the middle. . .walnuts. everywhere.

5.) Sept. 27th:  The Great White Bass moves on to his new home in the Christian Rock Band “A Love Not Lost“, where he will more appreciated than he ever was in my arms.

6.) Oct. 2nd: CD release!!  Jane and Scott let their very first EP out into the wild at Java Monkey.  So far it’s still alive.  We’re monitoring it closely via a chip attached to its ear.  So far it’s about five weeks away from primary feeding grounds on Amazon and i-tunes.  If you want to check on it, call WRAS 88.5 at 404-413-WRAS.

7.) Here come the teasers: Halloween! Yay! (we’re not playing or anything, I’m just very excited.)

8.) Nov. 10th: we bust out some more noise at 10 High (Darkhorse Tavern downstairs)

9.) Dec. 2nd: Bread, the free coffee house on the Emory Campus.

10.) Dec. 19th: Wonderroot Benefit – Winter Soulstice Art Jam at Smith’s Olde Bar.

. . .and in four to six weeks, it should be up on itunes!

Show last night was fun – thanks to everyone who braved the fire-inspired traffic on ponce!