Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

betterment

Spinning Off (or, Welcome to NaBloPoMo)

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As I first draft this post I am on my lunch break, alternating my typing with wolfing down a salad and chugging a glass of Airborne, because I didn’t have any time to write a post last night after my band’s rehearsal, and after this it’s back to copy editing and drafting project schedules, and then directly off to have dinner with one of my co-best-ladies and her wife, and from there another brief rehearsal before meeting up with my fiancée at our favorite open mic, and then some brief iteration of sleep before more work, followed by an upscale bar crawl I’ve organized for my friends, and then bon voyage to fiancée as she heads to a conference in Florida.

That sentence says almost everything you need to know about my life, in a nutshell. If it sounds too yuppy or droll for you then you have arrived at the wrong droll, yuppy blog, because those are the sorts of crises that are crushing me lately.

Thus the title of this, the longest-running blog in Philadelphia.

 
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Last year my adventures in National Blog Posting Month were bookended by a comic book analogy, which provided a frame for a complete reboot of Crushing Krisis.

First, I rebooted on a technical level, as I moved over six years of posts from Blogger to WordPress. More significantly, I rebooted from a content perspective, by reintroducing each character and plot strand from my life with no assumptions and no back-story required.

Also, since I am cultivating a second career as a singer-songwriter, I performed and uploaded nine Trio podcasts of original music ranging in topic from my identity to things left unsaid to my modern pop influences.

 
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My wonderfully telling introductory run-on sentence shows off an interesting facet of the intervening year – many aspects of my tongue-in-cheek reboot analogy were more apt than I intended, because the majority of my 30-day accelerated reinvention actually stuck.

And, not just the minutia, like my attention to detail being recast as a inner OCD Godzilla spewing indigestion-causing hellfire whenever I don’t perform a task in the most anal way possible. We’re talking about major life changes… I even blogged every day for another entire month this past September – that certainly never happened before!

As a result, rather than subject you to yet another reinvention for 2007 (I’m not Madonna, I just cover her songs), for the rest of this month I’ll be blogging about the changes in my life, especially the songs and stories connected to the two best, biggest, and most exciting parts of my new identity – that I am now an actively rehearsing and gigging musician, and that I’ve recently become engaged to my amazing partner of the majority of the seven-year run of this page, Elise.

I don’t expect you to be familiar with the highly obscure, highly complex history-of-me to follow along with my NaBloPoMo content; after all I’m just one of over 3,000 blogs for you to traipse through over the next 30 days, which is no easy feat. I know … last year I read every single blog, linking to a full 10th of them.

So, to spare you any extra research on my behalf, and in keeping with the original intent of last year’s reboot, all of my NaBloPoMo content will be presented free of backlinks to anything other than previous NaBloPoMo content from this year and last.

Tune in tomorrow for the first chapter of my engagement story. And, welcome to National Blog Posting Month at Crushing Krisis.

The road flows like a river, and pulls me around every bend.

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I think that was a sufficient amount of time to bask, uninterrupted, in being a fiancé.

Much stuff is afoot in chez krisis, and not just our impending wedding. I have more to say on that topic than you could ever hope to consume in a single sitting, so I’ll be dragging the whole mess of it through National Blog Posting month, and beyond.

Okay, I’ll say one thing now: I love all the dire wedding warnings that come from every quarter when you first get engaged. I suppose it’s a cultural hazing thing? I just don’t get it. Each of our favorite weddings were relatively lacking in insanity and drama according to the various brides. Also, we’re both OCD project managers with the same taste in everything.

Right. Remind me to come back and read this post in about twelve months and see what I have to say about it.

If that was all that was happening it would be, oh, say, the most exciting time of my entire life. However, chattery on the topic of engagedness tends to eclipse the fact that there are also some other life events in motion, such as the massive behemoth of posts that is NaBloPoMo looming a mere two days away.

You should be comforted to know that I’ve drawn up a comprehensive content grid so I’m never lacking for post topic (see, OCD project managers). The challenge will be finding myself awake and at a computer long enough to do any posting.

Part of that challenge is that Gina and I (AKA Arcati Crisis) are playing a second trio of songs with a rhythm section on November 9th at the Rotunda, followed by multiple holiday performances, and moving through a half-hour set at Doc Watson’s in January (and, possibly another appearance at the Tin Angel), all of which results in plenty of rehearsals, both together and separately.

Oh, and the normal busyness, such as having four of my projects reviewed (and approved!) by our CEO over the last month, learning various exercises and arias for my weekly voice lessons, working up a communications plan for our homegrown music festival, and trying to drag my sorry ass out to East Falls every Thursday to play our favorite open mic.

And, last but certainly not least (though, what could really be least in this list?), I suddenly – and completely out of the blue, I assure you – can play piano. I’m still slow to learn actual pop songs, but I seem to have collected a modest enough palette of rhythms and riffs that I can bang through my own stuff with increasing ease and surprising variation, and I actually prefer some of it on keys to guitar strings. Imagine that!

Anyhow, that’s life, at the moment – full of activity, but paradoxically forcing me to take frequent naps in order to keep up with it.

How have you been?

The Arrival of Arcati Crisis

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My birthday celebration began officially on Thursday night when I stepped on stage beside Gina as Arcati Crisis, before several dozen of my friends, and in front of a three-piece backing band, and commenced the first moment in my life where I truly felt like a rock star.

Flash back to a year ago – the beginning of my quarter-life danger/opportunity.

I knew – had known for months – that I wanted to get out to play more often. It was one of the reasons I had quit my promising run with our semi-pro acappella group after six months of arduous rehearsals. Yet, after two months of constantly playing around the house and a tepid run at World Cafe Live’s Monday open mic, I was stuck playing a single bar once a month.

I needed something a little more artist-oriented – where I wouldn’t be fiercely battling for attention over and over again with the same damn Madonna cover.

Out of the blue, I recalled Penni Gould – a woman I knew in passing from years of playing the Shubin Theatre holiday revue. At the 2004 show she mentioned that she was starting up a monthly performance salon for local theatre artists? Was it still around?

Not only was it still around, but after a brief email exchange I found myself invited to their next soundcheck for an audition. I played one rocker and one ballad, and just like that I was booked for a debut in December.

Meanwhile, Gina and I just had commenced rehearsing for our annual appearance at the Holiday Revue. This year we were effectively co-headlining with a three-song set, for which we were hardly prepared.

As a result, we resolved to do something highly unusual for us: rehearse. More than a week before our performance. And, more than once.

For the first couple of meetings we just played around, trying to figure out what we sounded like after a year-and-a-half apart. By our third rehearsal we realized that two of our biggest past challenges had transformed into major opportunities.

First, Gina was more consistent and aggressive than ever on her guitar parts, making it easy to scale up to more complex arrangements.

Even more significant, my acappella experience had taught me how to hold my own against other vocals, and as a result I no longer had to struggle to sing harmony with Gina. Not only could Gina sing more harmony with me, but for the first time I could sing harmony on her songs as well!

We wound up with more than a trio of songs – we discovered a formula, both for our sound and for motivating ourselves to rehearse. After a nearly flawless performance at the revue I floated my typical annual question to Gina – any chance you want to keep rehearsing in the new year?

Shockingly – though somehow not surprisingly – she said yes.

Now travel forward to May. Gina and I had just made our official redebut as Arcati Crisis at the 5th Annual Lyndzapalooza, and a few weeks later I found myself scheduled for another Melange performance.

Amusingly, over the past six months my tables had been turned: coming off of rehearsing with Gina as Arcati Crisis my own material was flabby and out of shape, especially in light of what looked to be a strong lineup at Melange.

Past that self-consciousness, Lindsay emailed me about a curious new development – Melange listed a future date at the Tin Angel, one of my favorite venues. Would I be playing there?

My only answer was a sinking feeling in my stomach that I wasn’t prepared to make a strong showing that night at Melange … certainly not strong enough to merit a coveted spot at the Tin.

A bit worried (okay: panicked), I sent Gina a pleading email: was there any chance she’d come up to sing harmony with me on one song, so I didn’t feel so nude?

As the day progressed we continued to exchange emails and the plans became more elaborate, until finally we agreed to just appear as Arcati Crisis. And we did, rocking an unusual combination of her bouncy “Fisher Price” and my elaborately maudlin “Counts the Most.”

Afterwards, Penni told us she would see if she could squeeze us in to the yet-to-be-announced second Tin Angel gig.

Now just a month ago, Gina and I are in a third floor apartment across from the Kimmel Center playing with a drummer and a bassist for the first time. Beforehand we absconded into the stairwell, working hushedly on our harmonies and debating on what we should tell the drummer to do.

The point wound up being moot. Tom, our drummer, was fantastic – picking up on exactly what we wanted without us even having to say so. All of our songs transformed into the better selves we had imagined all along, none more than Gina’s “What’ll I Say” – now less languid folk and more acoustic jam.

Suddenly our little duo had been expanded to an honest rock band that would be making its debut on September 20th.

Now we just needed an audience.

Thursday night, and Gina and I are backstage in one of two dressing rooms at the Tin Angel, having spent the past hour hand-labeling the Live @ Rehearsal, Vol. 1 discs I took the day off from work to mix and produce.

The walls of our room are covered with sharpie marker signatures from the many bands that had appeared there. Chris Smither loomed just above my head, and Erin McKeown high behind my chair. After much searching I failed to spot Peter Mulvey, but we discovered our acquaintance Mutlu near the ceiling and upside down.

Enough people had been seated that there was a bit of a hum drifting back to the room, and I delighted that this wasn’t theatre and that it was okay for me to sneek out for a peek.

The peek snuck the breath right out of me; the vast majority of the audience were our family and friends. Both of our parents, and our partners. Former roommates and theatre compatriots. Co-workers and random friends.

Most performances are a blur, but I can still hear this one in super slow motion. It makes the mistakes all the more painful than usual, but it also magnifies the successes.

A flipped pronoun on “Standing” pales against the best bridge vocal I’ve ever done. Skipping a progression on “What’ll I Say” to untangle my quarter inch tiny in the face of belting out my harmony at the close. And, starting “Wait” with a too hard pick hardly mattering when compared to our hilarious ad-libbed inflections and gestures on the final verse, tossing our lines back and forth to each other while the rhythm section carried the song.

Afterwards Elise and I went out for drinks, and more drinks, and karaoke, all of which I experienced through a film of joy. It might have taken ten years of preparation and a year of work, but I’ve finally transformed from wayward solo songwriter with no confidence to part of an assured and rehearsed duo that’s had a taste of a backing band and is hungry for more.

An errant Banker’s Club cosmo aside, Thursday night was the best birthday gift ever.

Crisis = Danger & Opportunity

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Last year I approached my 25th birthday with trepidation – I’m on the younger side of my group of friends, and I’d watched each of them struggle with some variety of a quarter-life crisis. Who am I? What am I doing with myself? What am I spending all of my time and money on? The questions seemed as endless as they were answerless.

To boot, the end of my first quarter was off to an inauspicious start: I had recently quit the acappella group that was my only after-work activity. I wanted to perform my original music, but I had nowhere to play and no one to play with.

And, right on my birthday, Elise and I had a hideous fight, a rare thing for us.

I love a crisis, because it represents both danger and opportunity, so I made my quarter-life as a challenge. In a year where most twenty-somethings freaked out about lacking direction I would turn my meandering life into a pure vector, improving every aspect.

The whole endeavor sounded ridiculous last September when I conceived of it – how could I better every aspect of my life without some cataclysmic change, like winning the lottery or developing telekinesis?

As it turns out, if you want to truly alter your life you have to treat it like a weather pattern – starting with the proverbial flutter of butterfly wings and winding up on the other side of a hurricane of change.

It yielded some results I couldn’t have possibly anticipated, many of which I already touched on for CK’s birthday a month ago. I performed live in almost every month of the year. I rebooted my blog, creating something I adore more than ever. I’ve saved more money than I have in my entire life previous, but I still found a way to afford voice lessons. I’m eating healthier than I ever have before, but it’s not just a tacit attempt to jump start my anorexia. And, as evidenced by my yet-to-be-recounted Thursday night as a rock star, Gina and I are finally a band.

The list goes on and on, but it ends with the most important item: I’m happy right where I am.

Last night at dinner my mother asked me if I felt any older, and I think I surprised her by saying yes.

I feel older in the best possible way.

Happy Birthday To This

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I spent the majority of my day yesterday moving my best friend & bandmate Gina and her boyfriend Wes into their first house.

We were a small team of movers – just five, plus one in the truck – yet the move went as smoothly as it could possibly go… with the exception of one instance of Gina and I collapsing into giggles while trying to carry her futon around a bend in the stairs, and the fact that the laws of physics bar them from sleeping on a queen-sized box spring anywhere other than their living room.

Gina and I have now known each other for over half of our lives – through middle school, high school, college, post-college, and now whatever this is. It was amazing thing to be a part of her big move yesterday, just it continues to be amazing to be able to see so far into the past of someone, someone with whom silliness comes so easily, and with whom I am the epitome of comfortable, willing to speak my mind even when I know we disagree.

Crushing Krisis has now been alive seven years – since August 26th, 2000. That’s more than half as long as I’ve known Gina, and nearly as long as I’ve known the rest of my best friends.

To the best that I can discern, Crushing Krisis is the longest continuously running blog in Philadelphia, and has been since 2003. It’s an amazing thing to contemplate, especially considering that Philly was recently measured to be the second most bloggingest city in the United States. It also means that CK is increasingly one of the most established blogs on the face of the internet.

Just as significantly, since it’s inception Crushing Krisis has been a home to my original music, featuring the original (and, correspondingly, longest-running) singer-songwriter podcast, Trio.

Maybe more significantly than either of those distinguished roles, Crushing Krisis is a part of me – a persistent virtual reflection that helps me to see myself as I am, as I once was, and how I wish I would be.

This page is a lot of things, and a lot of me, and for each year that passes it gets a little more important, because I am getting older and starting to forget feelings from certain moments or stories from specific parties.

I long ago accepted that birthdays and new years days are not inherently transformative experiences – you don’t come out on the other side a new person more than you would emerge reborn from any other day of the year. Yet, they can mark your graduation into being a changed person.

As I wrote last year’s birthday post I felt as if I had finally reached a stable place in life, and if Year 6 of Crushing Krisis was about finding stability, then this past year has been converting stability into happiness.

Some of that conversion was literal. I went from writing and editing letters to managing publications and ad campaigns. I went from being a house-bound recluse of a songwriter to a semi-regular at area bars. and open mics. I transferred Crushing Krisis from Blogger to WordPress on November 12, in the midst of participating in the amazing National Blog Posting Month. I vowed to have a consumerless Christmas (and succeeded). And, Gina and I finally became the band we’ve always teased at being.

And now I am actually, unequivocally, at an equilibrium of happiness – which, if you read through as many hundreds of old posts as I have in the past few weeks, you will realize is a state I wasn’t sure I would reach. Not so soon, at least, and maybe never.

Year 7 of Crushing Krisis includes a slew of favorite posts. I cursed at the television. I had a headache so profound that I gave it a name. I reinvented myself for NaBloPoMo. I recounted my first heartbreak. During a single Trio I redefined one of my favorite songs, and debuted one that had been incubating for half a decade.

I almost burned down the house baking cookies in the microwave. I finally told the story of my life-altering nap at Bonnaroo. I recorded a perfect version of one of my favorite songs. I took my first trip to a casino. Septa carried out an act of terrorism against my favorite garment. And, I finally celebrated the 4th of July the way I’ve always meant to.

But, for every favorite post there’s another that’s just as essential. I offered the most succinct description of myself ever made. I retold the story of the Queen of Darkness, complete with soundtrack. I mercilessly deceived a toddler to get him to eat his vegetables. I contemplated six years of knowing (and reading) Rabi. I listened to the Beatles entire catalog while racing through my last letter of NaBloPoMo reading.

I examined my role as a narrator in my own songs, comparing it to that of an inanimate object. Elise and I found a new favorite restaurant, where we’ve since become regulars. I documented my seemingly endless struggle with organizing my home office. I started documenting my visual life. I reflected on how far my 2004 resolutions have got me.

I recorded my favorite Garbage song, as well as one of Madonna’s most obscure. I reflected on how feminism sometimes makes me cry. I drank a lot of limoncello. I helped present the fifth annual Lyndzapalooza with hardly a hitch. I recorded my catchiest song, ever. I nearly lost my mind in the middle of Broad Street.

After recapping my year in words or links I usually spend the penultimate paragraphs of these August 26th posts talking about what Crushing Krisis is to me and what I hope to make it in the future, but I don’t know if this iteration warrants the introspection.

After seven years of blogging Crushing Krisis is me or, more accurately, an integral, inextricable part of me that I hope will exist as long as I do and beyond. Ultimately it doesn’t matter how many posts I make in a year (105), or how many unique songs I feature (37), or how many times I tell you how I really feel (?). This is just what it is, and I wouldn’t want it to be anything else.

While the penultimate paragraph changes, the final sentiment never really does: thank you. Thank you, no matter how many posts you have read, or how many songs you have listened to.

Thank you, because each of our identities are half about our self-perception and half about others’ perception of us, and if this is a form of me it would only be half-alive without a you to complete it.

Thank you. And, happy birthday to this.