Any Given Bloody Sunday Morning Has Broken

The Rainy Day Manual fantasy football team is 0-5. Just like the Tennessee Titans. I'd have to say there are similiar reasons for both teams going winless so far. Great expectations, bad luck, and lots of injuries. It's a testament to the power of the human body considering how mental momentum can manifest itself so plainly into life. Maybe after that first loss everyone on the team for a split second thought, "We're not as good as we were last year." From there it's just a matter of players feeding off of bad body language and avoiding eye contact with each other. Honesty and genuine communication is essential for group cooperation to be productive. If individuals are doubting one another without voicing that frustration, then it can get really ugly. It's no different than a group of musicians. You've got to be able to turn to someone and say, "I don't think what you are doing is good." Why is that so hard? Any given writer/artist/musician will be the first to admit that most of what they create is indeed "crap." A cognizant person knows that fresh, cerebral brainstorming needs molding and chiseling to get to the prized piece. Sometimes during that process situations can demand more than guidance. Sometimes they need drastic movement to shake things into place.
There's nothing wrong with trying to do something the opposite way you think it should be done. The results can be surprising.

Any way the wind blows...

It can get mightily frustrating not having the guitar you need. Of course I have guitars ... but I'm much a vagabond when it comes to the regularity of the guitar I use. Mostly I'm dependent on borrowing el axe from someone else who doesn't even use their guitar, but happens to possess one from the upper echelon. I have to consider myself fortunate for knowing people that are kind enough to lend me a $1000 musical instrument, but after using them it becomes an amputation when they ask me to return it. It's like running on high octane racing fuel and then all of a sudden filling up on some bunk diesel. There's no one to blame but myself. I have had the opportunities, albeit few, and I haven't ever been able to pull the trigger.
Some part of me still wants to hang on to the idea of karmatically molding the right guitar into my possession; truly bohemian. Still though, I remain an elephant without a trunk ... or tusks at least. I know I can't test drive for eternity.



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Rainy Day Blog

Hey guys/gals. My name is Chris and I am the singer/guitarist from Rainy Day Manual out of Memphis, TN. This is a blog about my trials and errors of doing what I love to do ... make music. There will be an emphasis on the perspective of developing a band in Memphis, and tangents will abound. There will be love and hate :: curses and cheers :: fodder for any and foie gras for few. We'll keep it light for the first entry. Here's some thoughts I wrote down on my lunch break today ....

Mister won't you wipe my slate clean.
Make it shine.
Make it Mine
Make it green.

My ailment is that I am born with nothing to presume.
Then tossed into a brewing storm and locked inside my room.

Something hot, something cold
Pick a poison, tip a tonic.
The soft is often hard
and the loud is supersonic.

Mister can't you let me go?
I'll dig into your ground
And grow into a mountain
while I never make a sound.

Out right, down-right
Outlaws in sight.

Our tunnels keep them looking, looking, looking for us
But they got no way to see us and their nets are fully porous.
Chewing through our dirt with only grit to eat,
Spit us out without a care. We're sticking to their feet.



Keep in touch. Hope you're having fun.
http://www.rainydaymanual.com