View From The Throne

The Adequates @ Mock Crest Tavern Friday December 30th 2011

2011-12-29T13:14:00.000-08:00

DJ Ched & Donsolo @ Eugenio's Tuesday December 13th 8:30pm

2011-12-13T17:48:00.000-08:00

The Wall @ Dante's Saturday December 3rd

2011-10-05T15:58:00.000-07:00

Will West and the Friendly Strangers • Saturday July 30 @ Mock Crest Tavern 9pm-Midnight

2011-07-26T15:17:00.004-07:00

The Adequates Friday July 29th, @ Mock Crest Tavern 9pm-Midnight

2011-07-26T15:14:00.000-07:00

Th Adequates @ Mock Crest Tavern, Friday June 24th

2011-06-22T13:16:00.000-07:00

The Adequates May 12th, @ Biddy's

2011-05-09T19:56:00.000-07:00

Sneakin' Out @ Mississippi Pizza Friday May 13th

2011-05-09T19:51:00.000-07:00

The Adequate @ Eugenios Saturday April 2nd

2011-03-26T12:37:00.000-07:00

White Eagle • Tuesday March 29th 8:30pm

2011-03-22T12:26:00.001-07:00

St. Patty's Day @ The Mississippi Pizza Pub

2011-02-28T12:41:00.000-08:00

The Road To Carnegie Hall

2010-05-13T02:46:00.000-07:00

Trust Your Mechanic

2010-05-12T23:40:00.000-07:00

"Trust your mechanic to plug your hole.

Trust your mechanic to make more somewhere else...

...He tightens and loosens a few spare parts,

One things fixed another falls apart.

And the rich eat you!"

-Jello Biafra

Four years ago as we swaggered out of a mini-mart in Newberg on our precarious journey through the two-lanes known as Dundee on our way to McMinnville our "van" did nothing but make a light clicking noise when the ignition was turned. I had only gotten a drivers license in December of 2001. Up until that time I had always used mass transit, or a bicycle and always worked at jobs that allowed commuting either way. Near the end of my tenure at Hopewell House, a hospice where i was one of three dietary coordinators, it was made mandatory that we all have valid licenses. I knew the end was near. At any rate, my knowledge of cars is zilch but thankfully we had a secret weapon. His name is Jeff Payne. We called our friend Myron LeRoy, who came and fetched us and our gear so we could get to McMinnville on time for our gig at GVB. Once we arrived we loaded in and saw our friend Jeff setting with his wife Debbie, one of my oldest friends, and their daughter Megan. I told Jeff the situation and his response was, "Sounds like the starter to me." So he got in his car, drove to Newberg, found a part installed it, and had the van to us before our show ended. Here was a man with a passion for what he does that I could totally relate to even though I had no concept of the mechanics it entailed. (Pun intended) That "van" ran for six more months until another "van" replaced it.

Two vans later, three years on, and Jeff is no longer living in Oregon. We had once entrusted our old roadie Timmel's truck to Jay at Jay's Garage and figured we'd give him a go. Three dates into our east coast tour with Pink Martini our transmission started hemorrhaging, forcing us to lose a day off and crucial travel time to the next gig after Knoxville, Tenn.

Once we returned from the tour we took the "van" to Jay's to ask him to check it out and consider splitting the cost with us of the repair in Knoxville since it seemed a bit fishy that we had a leak at all. He did this without too much bellyache. But four months later it's clear the transmission needs replacing again after just barely six months.

First he said it couldn't be done. Then he said that he could fix it and it would be cheaper then getting a new "van". We had left our PA speakers in the "van" being assured by Jay everything would be safe on his lot. Weeks passed. Suddenly the van couldn't be fixed and was being parked behind his garage on the street and we needed to come get it. When we arrived t0 do so nothing of our gear was still inside of it. He had removed the transmission completely and not replaced it as well as the front axle. The vehicle was now rendered useless and had to be towed to my driveway.

The police were sympathetic to our dilemma, but sadly/stupidly there was nothing they could do without a contract between us and Jay's Garage. Jay certainly didn't go out of his way to help rectify anything in the situation. When we mentioned the speakers he had the arrogance to ask if we had left it unlocked. He had the only key, so you tell me if we did Jay. I realize we should never have left our gear in the vehicle now, but we were used to trusting our mechanic.

I wish there was some kind of conclusion, but there really isn't. We had to buy another "van" after all was said and not done. Alas, another cliche comes to life.

Life In A Fabergé Egg (In Tennessee)

2010-05-12T23:16:00.000-07:00

The Historic Tennessee Theatre is a grand space in Knoxville. During Pink Martini’s set China Forbes commented, “It’s like we’re inside a Fabergé egg!” PM had never played there before and were required to sell so many tickets to insure the space, which they were capable of doing. Knoxville seemed quiet and a little rough on the edges.

The crowd was enthusiastic about Sneakin’ Out and gave us a rousing standing ovation at the end of our set. Three hours later we were checking into a dank fleabag known perversley as The Executive. The transmission we had replaced two weeks ago was leaking and had to be re-repaied before we could leave town for the next gig. So much for our day-off. At this point my sleep apnea was so bad that short rides were cause for napping, such was my deprivation. This hovel was so unsavory that Cheddar actually slept on the couch rather than risk sheets from another dimension. The rooms all had patio-type sliding glass doors that went out onto useless tiny concrete patios that looked unto the main highway. The sliding doors themselves had plastic white gobular appliques on them resembling something very similar to ejaculate. Charmed, I’m sure!

It took a better part of a day to get the tranny re-repaired. We had taken it to Jay’s Garage, a reputable repair station in Portland, (reputation isn’t everything, see the “Trust Your Mechanic” entry for details), but it was leaking like a sieve and required another $300.00 dollars of repair.

Cheddar and I decided to explore downtown Knoxville. An open section in the middle of town reminded us of the park blocks without any park. As we were approaching a street corner a woman in a four-door sedan rolled down her window and shouted to us,

“Hey!! Can you hear that?” She turned up the music on her car stereo. It was then I made out the strains of Sneakin’ Out playing “Paint It, Black”. She was listening to us! “I just called my niece in Portland! She had never heard of you! But she has now!” “You were awesome last night!” Her light changed and she sped through it. Mike and I just looked at each other dumbfounded.

Health Care In America

2010-01-18T01:46:00.000-08:00

We had the distinct pleasure of playing at a fundraiser for our friend, cellist Skip VonKuske. It was a sensational event. The Portland Cello Project and Stolen Sweets played as well. The concert took place at The Kennedy School in the gymnasium but we could have easily had it at The Crystal Ballroom. The turn out was exceptional, as were the donations to help Skip pay for the medical bills he has incurred as a result of back injuries that have left him nearly paralyzed. Oddly enough sitting to play cello is not painful for him. The event was the brainchild of our booking agent Jen Bernard. Portland really showed itself for the compassionate and caring city it professes to be. Taking care of it's own and giving back to those who have given so much.

Ash Street Saloon

2010-01-07T13:04:00.000-08:00

Please come join us Saturday January 9th starting at 9:30pm for music and good beer with the folks at Ash Street Saloon. A fun filled evening with Fenbi International Superstars and Ügen Flägen. $6.00 @ the door.

The 4-Years-Old Mosh Pit

2010-01-06T19:22:00.000-08:00

A few years ago we played every few month's at McMenamins Kennedy School. The venue itself is what was once the gymnasium. It's a great space with a decent PA. Our gigs coincided with the dinner hour and there were always a number of families with children there to see us. By children I mean toddlers. After a few of these shows there began to be a gathering of fifteen-to-twenty 4-year-olds dancing and spazzing and shouting and laughing with total abandon, as only children can. We began to look forward to these gigs with "the 4-years-old mosh pit". The kids had a blast and the parents got a respite (sort of) and we love positive reinforcement, so everybody won.

One gig a sweet little girl walked up to the edge of the stage and asked "Could you play some David Bowie?" I about fell off my throne. A 4-year-old asking for Bowie, how amazing. So we played "Changes". When we had finished, she walked back up to the stage and said "I was hoping to hear "Hang Onto Yourself". I was gobsmacked. If I had only knew then what they know now.

Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)

2010-01-06T15:24:00.000-08:00

"Ladies and gentlemen, it was twenty years ago today" So started our show at Mississippi Studios 12/27/09. We had the privilege of an audience who knew their Pepper. After "With A Little Help From My Friends" someone actually screamed "Suck it Joe Cocker!" Thanks so much to those of you who were there to support live music. Huge thanks to all the musicians who participated Skip VonKuske and Kina Lyn Muir on cello, Matt Franzen on guitar, Gordon Miller on nylon-string guitar, Mitch Iimori on sitar and oboe and Vicki Reitenauer on clarinet. And last but not least Jeff Hays who sang Paul parts on "A Day In The Life" and Jim Brunberg who sang John parts on "A Day In The Life" and played acoustic guitar emulating the segue between "Sgt. Peppers (Reprise)" and "A Day In The Life" perfectly, You Rock!!!!!!!!!! A splendid time...indeed.

P. S. Click on photo for a larger more surreal view

Sgt. Peppers Post Boxing Day Mayhem

2009-12-22T13:48:00.000-08:00

On Sunday the 27th of December 2009, Sneakin' Out is performing "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band With A Little Help From Their Friends"

at Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi.

When Sneakin' Out first formed the three of us lived together, rehearsing through the day and into the night. We lived at 3939 SE Madison. The Beatles music was becoming a large part of our cover repertoire and that was all right by me. Ever since I had acquired a bootleg CD recording of "Sgt. Peppers" in mono I had heard, for the first time, what all the fuss was about. Don't get me wrong, I was a devout "Revolver" lover. Every sound was a tympanic tickle that had never been attempted, especially in pop music. "Rubber Soul" too, with it's songs of love, longing and automobiles. But I digress. So when it was time to choose a "performance piece" "Sgt. Peppers"

seemed like the perfect choice. It was fun, mysterious, experimental and classical (hmm sound familiar?). We three starting learning the songs in a random type of way. We started with "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds". Being a child of the 70's I had been in love with the version performed by

The Elton John Band w/Dr. Winston O'Boogie (Lennon) on guitar and vocals, so it seemed an obvious choice to me. Beyond the six notes at the beginning of "Dancing Queen" it was the first song I played on the glockenspiel. Next up was "Penny Lane". Although "Penny Lane" did not appear on "Sgt. Peppers" proper, it and "Strawberry Fields Forever" were the

start of the studio journey The Beatles were to embark on for the next two years until the rooftop performance during the "Get Back/Let It Be" debacle.

I remember learning the solo with Dave Deluka in the "studio" basement at 3939 starting so slowly it didn't even resemble the finished performance. Six hours later it bordered on a kind of recognition to it's actual sound. This was only made clear to us from Cheddars' yelps of approval as he listened to us repeat the solo cornet line for the umpteenth time. And then on the 7th day etc... I don't truthfully remember the order in which we learned the rest of the songs from the album, I wish I could say I do. "Within You Without You" was early on as well as I was using a shrudi box to help establish the drone along with Cheddar's rolling bass note. A shrudi box is a harmonium without keys, basically, with valve-holes that air moves through creating different pitches. Sadly, it has since been sold.

We started assembling an orchestra in the living room of the bungalow house at 3939 starting with clarinet and french horn. Performed by our publicist and booking agent at the time Vicki Reitenauer and Carol Gabrielli.

There does exist a few video snippets of the five of us learning "Sgt. Peppers" the song and "With A Little Help From My Friends". Then it just started to happen. So-n-so knew a violin player who has a wife who plays viola. I know a trumpet player. One day a young woman showed up with a violin, I opened the door and she said, "I'm...here for "Sgt. Peppers". This continued until we reached critical mass and rehearsed with a set number of players. This group was dubbed "The Billy Shears Orchestra".

The choice to do the first performances at Mississippi Studios was two-fold.

1) Jim Brunberg had expressed interest, and Mississippi Studios was the place to play. 2) The number 39. I believe things happen in life you can choose to see or dismiss. Just because you see them doesn't mean you have any true understanding of their meaning, stuff just happens. While living at 3939 SE Madison, we looked into perhaps a larger residents. While driving to my folks house in Tigard, I passed a for rent sign in Multnomah. I had gone to grade school in Multnomah when the arts center was still a grade school. The house from the sign was on Spring Garden a side street off of 39th where we had lived in Multnomah when I was a child. I pulled up to the house and surprisingly the address was 3939 SW Spring Garden. When I told the others about it they were a little woo-woo but not much else. The next day, after living at the Madison address for 10 years, we received mail for 3939 SW Spring Garden. That was a little more than woo-woo. Later that day in going over venues we found out from Jim Brunberg that the address for Mississippi Studios was in fact 3939. WTF?

We performed two sold out shows at Mississippi Studios, our first such shows. It was a very emotional experience for us the musicians and the audience alike. I remember numerous people singing along and crying. I remember the line of people in the rain waiting for tickets to the second show that was added only minutes after the first one sold out. We also did a show in McMinnville, Oregon a thriving community about an hour-an-half-by-car from Portland in the heart of the wine country. It was performed at 3rd Street Pizza a movie theatre/pizza parlour. At this show we projected films of the BSO and other friends behind us, standing roughly like the crowd of inspirations on the cover of the original album, as we played the music. Everyone stood completely still to give the impression of a static image. As this video was sans sound I would give random direction to random members such as scratch your nose, or yawn. This inevitably would garner some response from the keen punter in the stalls. During "She's Leaving Home" all the women present in the crowd walked out of shot, leaving the men looking at each other confusedly.

We performed two more shows a few months later at Mississippi Studios, as well. At these I unfortunately had strep throat and don't remember much about them at all.

"Sgt. Peppers" has been performed many times since then in different configurations. It's first performance proper was just the three of us, at one

of two gigs we ever played at "Rock Creek Tavern", before the BSO was a

reality.

I hope you will join us in the upcoming concert. If it goes in true typical Sneakin' Out fashion it will completely resemble and be utterly unrecognizable from previous performances. It's getting better all the time.

Postscript:

A few months after the original performances of "Sgt. Peppers" we were able to play the High Sierra Music Festival with thanks due in part to Jim Brunberg. When we arrived at the campsite we received our itinerary. Our campsite was number 39, of course!

Why Illinois, Why?

2009-08-15T06:18:00.000-07:00

Although most of my family originally hails from there, being on the road only brought me to this questioning question. Land locked and flat surfaced. Lost in the middle of America like a child abandoned and left to create it's simple state of being (no pun intended) Illinois plodded on and on like any recent Hollywood film, aimlessly to no specific resolution. I hear you saying what about Chicago. Hey, Chicago is great! I've been there many times, but it's still in Illinois. The stretches of barren land broken only by tarmac veins, repeat themselves in a cult-like chant of nothingness interrupted by murders of crows here and there and Stepford towns with glassy eyed children suffocating in the humidity. Ice cream smearing their lips. Best to cross yourself and keep an evil-eye handy just in case of recognition.

When I was a child we visited here and I was so taken by the electrical storms and the fireflies. Lights in the teaming darkness of middle America's

shadows and secrets. Hidden agendas, clandestine bigotry, unspoken desire.

These are the things I learned from my relatives here in this place at 12 years of age. It seems as though these things have not changed although time has ravaged and stolen as much as it has passed by. Forgive my need to express such things. Were they to remain unsaid they would just gnaw at my core like bad infection. Besides, I'm only looking out the window as they pass by, to be forever engraved in my mind like a living tombstone of a time

where innocence was lost for good, for better or worse. I'm not sure which

that might be.

Happy Birthday Log

2009-08-13T04:46:00.000-07:00

You're better than bad, you're good. I love you. GAA!!

Meeting In Nashville

2009-08-13T03:38:00.000-07:00

The last time I was in Nashville I had just witnessed the complete working of a room. My manager/uncle had just raised a chant of "Steelers! Steelers!" and revved up all these guys wearing Pittsburgh regalia and they were all chanting for our singer to sing. Our guitarist led her onto the stage. "Just one number" said the baffled MC as they began "This Man" a wonderful country mini-drama where one woman warns another woman of a particular mans foibles and misadventures with yet another woman (and booze). At the conclusion of this number the bar roared it's approval as the two launched into another number, this one entitled, "I'm Gonna Dance With My Baby". I stepped out the front door onto Broadway to get a breath of fresh air. We had been doing this about four hours now, up and down Broadway. I turned and manager/uncle was there behind me with a beer in his hand. "Isn't this great, Donnie" he said to me. I hate being called Donnie. "I don't think you can have that beer outside, I think it's against the law." I said as a very well dressed cow-couple walked toward us. "Is it against the law for me to be drinking this out here?" manager/uncle enquired of the two-steppers. "I believe that it is, sir." drawled the cowboy back at manager/uncle. With this he chucked the almost full Budweiser into the unsuspecting oncoming traffic of Broadway and staggered back inside the bar. I followed quickly behind. She wound up singing three songs before they asked her to kindly leave the stage so the featured performer could earn his pound of flesh.

This time we are in Nashville to meet JD who has successfully driven our van of equipment all the way from Portland with our filmographer 20yrs his junior. I suppose they didn't have much to talk about but JD did get to envision him in all kinds of different life-drag. Dresses, robes, turbans, sequins and the like. We were still reeling with the news from the the rental car that no matter what Expedia said the extra mileage would cost us so much more and since we already signed a contract our lumps would just have to be taken. What a racket. Sort of like insurance, but we'll get to that shortly.

We checked into our No Name Inn and situated ourselves between the smokers and the non-smokers. Beer was bought and unwinding started almost immediately. JD was as southern as they come. Spinning yarns around us west coasters until we were just a big ball for him to bat around.

"So what do you do?" "I drive a truck." "What do you haul?" "Pianos, mostly used Bosendorfers." "Really" "Yeah, they're knock-offs." " 'S that so." "In Alabama." "Nice." "Oh you poor things I'm gonna have to send a lifeboat to reel you back in" We fell for pretty much everything he said. My favourite story was about his dog Elvis who had died and how he had a lot of female dog friends in the neighbourhood. JD would see all of Elvis' children but when he called to them none of them would come to him. Pretty funny stuff. I could just see him on Comedy Central sitting on a half-made bed smoking a cigarette and telling you how mama would mutter "Lor' Lor' Lor'" as you watched her wig walking away from you.

In the morning me and the guys met up with Mr. Love. Mr. Love was the bass player in the project where the three of us had initially met. We had lunch at a decent bar and grill and reminisced about old times and even some of the new ones. Mr. Love and our singer had gotten married not too long after the whole project had turned into one big long knife in the back. She was out of town as luck would have it. We finished lunch and headed back to the rental car so we could follow Mr. Love to their abode. As I approached the passenger door I noticed the indentations first then the scratches. They were on both the passenger front and back doors. Unbelievable. We had only gotten liability. Now at two days into the tour we were already at least a thousand dollars in debt and had yet to play a single note.