BGO Studios has come to a complete halt, hopefully for a short time, to move shop from Nashville, Tennessee to Boone, North Carolina. I will set back up for SERIOUS business as soon as possible in a place where a BIGGER and Better studio could really be created.
Lately, the feeling of forgetting something important has been my life these past weeks. Once we packed up the rest of the apartment my roommate left and was headed to Boone. I had suddenly gotten a call from an audio engineer I used to intern for at Tequila Cowboy (used to be Cadillac Ranch) with a job to help out that night so I stayed in Nashville at my sister's until the next morning. I went to the apartment for a final-sweep and a double-check when I woke but there was nothing left but the various drywall holes, trash I might have disrespectfully littered around the place, and some refrigerator family pictures I almost didn't see. I forgot something. What was it? I'll never know, I wanted to get out of that cockroach infested place. It treated me well during school. It was depressing now. I forgot something though. I thought in my vulgar head "Fuck it, whatever it must be is material and if I couldn't think of it then (and I can't think of it now) then it must not have mattered that much to begin with. I then left the naked apartment H-16 and when I instinctively went to lock the door behind me I stopped. Opened the door to a crack without locking it, inviting whoever into it maybe a family that's homeless might find it, maybe even finding whatever I left and forgot. Probably food, or a lamp, or a thousand dollars but unlikely, or was it a part of my soul? Having a home is like your fortress, somewhere you know and can go back to whenever you need rest, to feel safe, to eat, to sleep; and when you leave it looking the way you first saw it, it feels like parting with a part of yourself and something I could never fit into a U-Haul.
The night before I left, I was called in to help switch band sets and back-line the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd bands for quick changes between bands at Tequila Cowboy, a honky-tonk venue that's pretty big for Broadway and "not as gay as it sounds," people tell me. The place used to be called Cadillac Ranch because of the Bruce Springsteen song, I guess, or because of the old-school Cadillac perched atop the center of the bar area as you enter. It was a great learning experience and apparently learned it well there because I knew everything they asked me to do, even though I hadn't interned there in a few months, but even if what they told me to do in a language I wasn't familiar with (tech-talk) I still pieced my knowledge from school and other experiences with how they described what they needed done and it made sense. Tequila Cowboy is one of three venues that the building owns, so the engineers there take care of a karaoke bar "Wanna B's" and an adjacent "Rock Bar" which is the smallest and all can be accesses through a center doorway near the sound booth. I was clearing the main stage in of the Tequila Cowboy side from a stereotypical country-singer band to a DJ where the area that the band played on became a cleared dance floor and the expected change over time was one minute. The DJ helped pull everything offstage and I was told to simply pull all of the 50 mic cables from the boxes and put them in a pile to wrap later because I can wrap cables well but not as fast as these guys, and the sound guy that was working told me to do so. As I was pulling out the last couple of cable together, the female side of one got stuck on something and when I yanked, It flew up and clanked me below the right eye, right where a normal fist would go in a fight. First I heard an "Oohoa! did ya'll see dat?" from someone in the distance and I knew he was talking about me. I shook it off and carried the black bundle of tangled snakes to a back room un-knot and wrap then back up neatly. While focusing in on wrapping the many cables as fast a possible I looked around the room and caught glimpse of my reflection in a mirror shard propped up against huge speaker. I saw the reflection of Me in black tech clothes with blood smeared across my face.
Now, I have temporarily moved back to Home Base in Boone, NC at my mom's house, looking for jobs, trying to get up and out quick as possible in a place with BGO back in business as planned. Peace.