Hear about the animated kid’s bear that won the Grammy?

That’s right, the internet’s abuzz with Bonnie Bear, the cuddly little gramophone-toting (oddly enough) bear that won Best New Artist.

And I’m so pumped about this because I’ve produced children’s music for such gems as The Hungry Caterpillar and an assortment of Dr. Seuss books. (One of my biggest clients is South Korean…if you can read this I’ll give you a gold star.) So I feel kid’s music deserves a Grammy. And I’m not saying that just because I produce it.

Ok…I am.

But, it turns out that all the praise rightly belongs to the band Bon Iver.

Yep, seems a lot of people heard the pronunciation of Bon Iver (French for something or other) and thought it was “Bonnie Bear.” Almost immediately the Internet was a seething cauldron of confusion, panic, and sheer rage. No one could understand how an awkwardly kid-friendly animal could steal the Grammy away from Nicki and Skrillex like an unfortunate camper from his sleeping bag.

Fortunately, it all worked out in the end because as it turns out, Bon Iver isn’t too big on recognition. Justin Vernon, the lead singer, said, “It’s hard to accept (this Grammy) because when I started to make songs, I did it for the inherent reward of making songs, so I’m a little bit uncomfortable up here.”

So I guess it’s all for the best. Maybe Bon Iver can stay incognito and book daycares.

Bonnie would be proud.

Adele won the trifecta last night at the Grammy’s: Record, Song, and Album of the Year.

Now I’m moving on to my own musical trifecta: Mountains, Cabin, and Song-Writing. One week from today, I’ll be incognito in the pristine desert air of Ruidoso, New Mexico laboring on my Album of the Year…and though I don’t seek to win a Grammy, I want it to be something special.

I have two albums under my belt, Dog and Bird, and Hill Studio Sessions. But this one is taking a big leap forward, something I’m very excited about.

Writing lyrics and music is a creative Goliath that’s hard to wrestle into a winning album. It’s a pretty unique two-fold project. But mastering the art of coupling the right words to the right melody is something that I don’t mind working my whole life at.

I feel like a carpenter…but one who grows his own tree. Then he takes it and carves it into perfection (which I’m much better at in analogy then real life.)

So if you’re in Ruidoso…stop by the third mountain on the left. If not…I’ll keep you up to date on all my desert adventures here.

Randy Travis’ wood to be exact.

That’s right. I’m now the proud owner of several planks of wood from his old barn. And they say that there are 6 degrees of separation between any two people on earth. But all that separates Randy and me are several planks of wood and a small splinter I blame on him.

(And I guess there are also the 22 number one hits and 6 Grammys…)

They call this wood “repurposed.” That’s the politically correct term for “recycled.” People say “repurposed” so it doesn’t sound like they’re making stuff out of other people’s trash…which they are.

This wood has also been “reconditioned”, another step in the recycling process. I like that term, “reconditioned.” I feel like Randy might benefit from that word. Every time I see him I think, “reconditioned.” Has his hair been “reconditioned?” Can I help you “recondition” your Grammys?

It makes me wonder what kind of barn Randy Travis built. He’s a country guy with money so I can only assume he went all out.

Randy Travis barn of my imagination:

I’m also pretty sure he would have genetically engineered cows.

Randy Travis cow of my imagination:

So now I will take his wood and build something. And one evening, when the orange glow of the sun saturates the western sky, Randy will come. He will slip through the cornfield’s edge with a guitar slung over his shoulder. And with a child’s pride I will show him what I have built. And he will look upon it.

And he will probably leave disappointed.

Paul Simon is a genius. One of the best songwriters…I would say…ever.

Take Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard.  This song sits proudly on my inspirational mantelpiece. I like to look at it while stoking the fires of my lyrical writing.

It’s such a fun song. Everyone knows the chorus and everyone sings along. We especially love belting out, “It was against the law. It was against the law. What the Mama saw. It was against the law!”

What did the Mama saw…er, see? What did she get an eyeful of that caused her such distress that her salivary glands poured forth and “spit on the ground every time my name gets mentioned”?

Nobody knows. Even Paul Simon doesn’t know. Read what he told Jon Landau of Rolling Stone magazine in 1972:

Landau: What is it that the mama saw? The whole world wants to know.

Simon: I have no idea what it is… Something sexual is what I imagine, but when I say ‘something’, I never bothered to figure out what it was. Didn’t make any difference to me.

(Paul Simon = Like a boss.)

In movies, that’s called a MacGuffin. And a MacGuffin…is really nothing at all. It’s simply a prop that drives the story. Alfred Hitchcock is famous for using it. George Lucas called it, “The object of everyone’s search.” It’s the unknown content’s of the briefcase in Pulp Fiction and the vaguely defined mineral “unobtainium” in Avatar.

Safely nestled somewhere in my soon to be album is a little MacGuffin of my own …like a ninja bomb of lyrical mystery waiting to explode in your ear canals.

Writing this new album is a challenge and a journey. In the creative process a lot of “whys” and “whats” come up that never really get completely answered. I think back to “what Mama saw” and realize that maybe answering those questions are not as important as to where they drive me to…the object of my search. I guess that’s my MacGuffin.

I think each of us has our own MacGuffin…something we can’t define but yet drives us onward and upward, searching for what we hope to find. It is what we hang the plot of our life upon.

And in the meantime, we turn up the music and sing along while one of the great mysteries of life stays forever unanswered.

I read that the total amount of salsa consumed on Super Bowl Sunday could flood the entire earth and would be deep enough to cover the highest mountain…Mount Everest.

No, that’s true. I’m almost positive.

Anyway, back to my original point. The Super Bowl is just about the biggest thing that’s ever happened on planet earth. But I ask myself, why?!

It’s simple. It’s because everything about the Super Bowl is just so damn entertaining.

The players, the announcers, the commercials all entertain us. And those are just the people on the front lines. Think of all the thousands of little souls working feverishly behind the scenes to bring joy into our hapless little mundane lives. It’s as if all those people and all the seemingly randomness of their entire existences were orchestrated just for this single night. The interweaving machinations of a million hands uniting across a vast web of sports, business, industry, and human growth hormones resulting in a fiery cataclysm of…Salsa. The universe stops and world peace ensues for about 4 hours.

Of course…there’s the flip side. Because for every person being entertained, there’s also someone performing.

The players are performing. The announcers are performing. The hot dog guy, with some lucky fan’s future dinner strapped precariously close to his…well, hot dog…he’s performing. Even me at home, I will be performing. I’ve got to make sure the salsa is perfect for friends. But also for the random people I only see once a year but welcome into my home because after all…it’s Super World Peace Bowl.

And then there’s Madonna performing. (I’m not saying Madonna’s old, it’s just that I think I was in diapers when she sang “Like A Virgin”…and I’m pretty sure she’s the one in diapers now.)

So that’s what it all comes down to…performing and being entertained. And sometimes, it’s hard to tell whose doing the performing and whose being entertained.  Maybe I think this way because all my artistic endeavors revolve around performing and entertaining. But then again, maybe all our lives revolve around those two concepts.

If I had to sum it up, I guess I would say that, “all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances.”

And it’s all just so damn entertaining.

Tonight, I finally brought myself to sit down and deal with my 2010 taxes.  I pulled out a small green Ikea box full of wads of crumpled receipts, and began  straightening each one, neatly stacking them into tax-worthy categories.   A funny thing happened.  As I looked at each tired piece of paper,  memories began flooding back.  Trips to the West Coast, drinks with old college friends in Manhattan,  long dinners with last year’s love attempts.  I began to walk through each conversation and the thoughts going through my head at the time.

It’s not until I was slowed into this reminder that I realized how full our lives are. I spend so much of my time thinking about the goals that haven’t yet been achieved, that I completely forget about the journey so far.  Without being told to, I was ushered into a sincere thankfulness; a genuine appreciation of life.

Thanks . . . I guess, is all I’m saying.  Who knew taxes could be so fun?  And screw it.  I don’t want the money back.

Woodworking came straight from my grandfather and is thick in my blood.  He had me working the drill press when I was still in single digits.  Long hours in his New Mexico workshop by some might be considered child labor, but I loved it.  We’d make wooden guns, trains, dog-mansions, and even a sweeeeet multi-story fort.   Most recently, we built a customized recording studio desk out of leftover black lab counters he pulled from Sandia Nuclear Laboratory.  The desk drawers have stains from where scientists would put their coffee mugs.

Realizing a hobby is kind of like pursuing a girlfriend.  It’s usually not economical…but when you do spend money on it, it feels good…like Christmas good.  For my birthday this year, I gifted myself a really nice chisel (lie-Neilson).  This is no normal chisel.  This chisel feels like Harry Potter’s wand…

 
What’s my first project you ask?  I think I’ll start with this…

Perhaps this is more realistic…

“When I drive it’s easier to think objectively.  It must be the truckers and signs going by (my mind leaps to Butterfly Boucher’s “Another White Dash”…why isn’t she massively successful? Weird-ass music industry). All the motion is good for my ADD brain. It calming. That probably also explains why it’s impossible for me to fall asleep while there’s repetitive music playing…but I can sleep like a baby to the sound of someone cleaning dishes. Is it because I adore other people cleaning my crap? Perhaps.

I remember freshman year in college at UofA, my dorm neighbor playing “Ass ‘n’ Titties” every night for about 2 months. All you could hear through the cinder block walls was kick drum and the chorus (stupid, but catchy as hell). “Ass ‘n’ Titties” going straight into my head. Sleeping was not an option.

Anyway…what was I talking about?”

A song of particular significance to me…and perhaps some of you. I wrote this song in Nashville with good friend, Michael Shoup.  More of Michael Shoup’s music and crazy videos at www.michaelshoup.com
Lyrics and Tech details below!

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THE BALLAD OF A NICE GUY

It started out just being friendly
Her heart was broke and I was being gentlemenly
You’re telling me he’s so refined but
You’re aperitif and he’s been tasting other wines

So what then should I be
For you to notice me

Nice guys lose again
Always hoping that she’ll make the switch
Polite guys never win
Perhaps its time we learn to smack a bitch

Take you to show, I’d buy you flowers
I could sit and stare and listen to you talk for hours
Write poetry for a song like this
I like your company but still there’s something that I miss

So what then can I do
To get it on with you

CHORUS

I’ve resolved to be more criminal less subliminal
Beef my upper body cause that’s what gets the hotties
Never date less than two ladies
Always leaving when there’s babies
Cause it seems like that’s what I’m supposed to do

CHORUS
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TECH SPECS
Shot with an iPhone 4 using an Owle Bubo. Editing done in Final Cut Pro and extra audio editing in Logic.

My first music video. I’m so proud. Not like a father, I’m sure…but perhaps like a cereal maker, or something. This video was so fun to make! Please enjoy and comment to let me know what you think!

Director: Jeff Wyatt Wilson
Actors: Jade Beazley, RIch Brinsfield, Lee Holland, Reed Pitman, Vince Romanelli, Hopathon the Stuffed Bunny, and Dry Bones the Pigeon.
Locations: My front porch, The Wine Loft Nashville, White Studio near downtown Nashville, Hillsboro Village, 12 South.