Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

We stayed until nearly nine that night, which for the dancers was a very long day and for my hand was the longest day yet. At the end of it, though, after the dancers had been sent home, Mickey and I and Ziggy sat down and agreed we didn’t have to cut anything.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 28th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

It took almost two hours of rehearsal to get the three dance numbers in the first half of the set to the point that Josie, Linn, Mickey, and Ziggy were all satisfied with what they had. I discovered that when I needed to enforce a rest on my hand, the rest of the band and the dancers could carry on just fine while I stood there like dead weight–or acted like a bandleader. Me not playing on half the run-throughs actually gave me the chance to hear how the parts were meshing on the big stage.

They had rearranged the stage so the band was no longer on two separate islands separated by a sea of dancers. Thankfully. Now we were on a multi-riser section at stage right with each part of the band on their own tier, and a matching set of step risers at stage left was inhabited by the dancers at various points in their choreography.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 23rd, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

The only light in the apartment came from the streelights and the bluish glow of the numbers on the VCR. I could see no colors at all.

A few feet away, Ziggy slept in the grand centerpiece bed, under a snow white duvet, his closed, lined eyes and tousled dark hair like slashes of urgent calligraphy.

I didn’t want to wake him. But I knew I shouldn’t just stand there at the window having a downward spiral, either.

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Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

By the time Linn was done, every member of the band and all the dancers had some electric blue in their hair. So did Mickey, the stage manager.

Mickey was one of those guys who was going both bald and gray but that didn’t stop him from putting his hair in a pony tail. One time back at the office I’d heard his response to the suggestion that he cut it: “What, I should look like some old guy?”

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 16th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

Out in the main rehearsal area I found Jordan with another friend in tow.

“Trav.”

“D.”

We exchanged our complicated handshake and my hand didn’t even cramp up while doing it.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 14th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

My hair consultation apparently wasn’t only with Bernard and Linn. Ziggy was standing there between them when I pushed open the restroom door and he looked me up and down critically. Well, all three of them sort of stared at me but it was Ziggy in particular I noticed. Not the most comfortable feeling.

“Hey guys,” I piped. “My turn, right?”

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 9th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

Two days later, Bernard came by the rehearsal space with Linn and set up a traveling hair salon in one of the restrooms. I decided I couldn’t worry about what was going on with costumes or hairstyles even though underneath I was anxious about it. At some point months ago Linn had taken my measurements so I knew something was in the works but we hadn’t talked about it in forever. So I pretended it wasn’t happening and concentrated on the music.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 7th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I debated whether to wear the brace for my hand to rehearsal. You know, have it on up until the last minute and then whip it off to actually play? I was debating whether it would be better to do that–and potentially have everyone treat me like glass, which might undermine my authority but might be better for my health–or to just leave it at home and try to pretend everything was normal.

Who was I kidding? The “pretend to be normal” thing never works out in the end, does it? Ever?

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Look what is now up for pre-order on Amazon! German editions of the Secrets of a Rock Star series! Well, the first two books at least. The third one is still in production. They are being published by the publishing house Bastei Lubbei and are available all the usual ebook selling places.

I don’t read German so can’t vouch for the accuracy of the descriptions…Google translate makes them a bit hilarious. But if you enjoy reading in German, these are my latest BDSM-themed romance novels, with rock stars, heiresses, and a secret Hollywood club.

Book One: Dunkle Symphonie: Amazon | Google Books | B&N Nookstore | Bastei publisher website

Book Two: Fesselnde Harmonie Amazon | Google Books | B&N Nookstore | Bastei publisher website

Mirrored from blog.ceciliatan.com.

ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Mar. 2nd, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

The stupidest things can cause trouble for me. Back at the apartment, Ziggy was out. I got out my notebook and looked for where I had written down my plan for our rehearsal schedule, couldn’t find it, then decided I only thought about writing it down but didn’t actually.

That wasn’t what caused the trouble. I’m getting to that.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 28th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I wanted to sleep for a week. Carynne and Ziggy let me have nine hours. That was pretty good.

I actually only got seven, though, because there were two hours in the middle of the night when I woke up thinking about all the work that had to be done before we’d be tour-ready and the only way I could convince my brain to go back to sleep was by slipping out of bed, cutting a Flexeril in half with a steak knife in the kitchen, and washing it down with water from the tap. The knife wasn’t really sharp enough to split a pill, actually, so I ended up with a half to swallow and the other half pulverized into nothing. Whatever. The sound didn’t wake Ziggy and I got back in bed and slept the rest of the night.

The medical followup wasn’t with my surgeon. It was with a physical therapy office off of Bowery. The place was like a small gym with exercise machines and yoga mats in the middle and the sides lined with cubicles with curtains for walls. Each cubicle had a flat exam table, a chair, and a stand with some diagnostic machinery on it. The therapists were dressed in polo shirts not doctor coats and they were mostly middle-aged women.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 25th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

(Saturday post!!)
I woke up the next morning with Carynne knocking on the door. My head was still under a pile of pillows and so Ziggy got up first. He answered the door buck naked, which seemed overly Ziggy-like even for him, except maybe he knew who it was.

“Not to rush you but a shuttle’s taking us to the airport in a little over an hour,” she said.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 23rd, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I didn’t remember drinking the bourbon but I remembered having drunk it, if that makes sense. Like I had no sensory memory of the flavor or what kind of container I drank it out of, but I remembered checking off my mental to do list as show prep. When I took my second Vitamin F, I know I had already had that shot of whiskey.

I felt great. Which was good news, since in the back of my mind I was a teensy bit worried about the warning the doctors had given me about how Flexeril and alcohol could be bad. I felt fine. I felt better than fine.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 21st, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I waltzed into soundcheck feeling pretty good from Vitamin F kicking in. “Who’s doing the very last lounge act of the tour?” I asked.

No one moved a muscle. I gave it another couple beats before I said, “Am I going to have to do it myself?”

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 16th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

On Labor Day 1991 we played the Biloxi Coast Coliseum. If you’ve been to the Biloxi coastline, chances are you went for the casinos. Back then, the casinos hadn’t been built yet. Or if they had, I don’t remember them. We had taken over a somewhat fleabag hotel where Nomad had stayed before. I was reminded of Australia for a couple of reasons. The proximity to the beach was one.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 14th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I don’t understand why people love me.

And that’s probably what a lot of my troubles that tour boiled down to. I was coming to terms faster with the fact that I could love other people without understanding it than I was the opposite.

By showtime the heat had let up a little, so it was hot but in a bearable way. There were large fans set up on either side of the stage, strategically placed to make up for the lack of breeze.

“Is this my first time in Alabama?” I asked Flip.

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Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

dgc_book_11_cover_poll
I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s already time to pick a cover for volume 11 of the ebook compilations. Please leave your feedback in comments below, or just vote in the poll (if you’re on LJ or RSS you may have to click through to the original post to make sure your vote is registered):

Which cover design do you like best for DGC Vol 11?

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Meanwhile, hello, folks! It’s been a (moon)dog’s age since we had a liner note, so it’s high time we had one! Keep reading for tidbits and cool stuff we’ve accumulated about rock and roll, gay rights and visibility, and other topics that intersect with Daron’s Guitar Chronicles.

Before we get started officially under the cut, I also wanted to point out that you all are on the verge of triggering another Saturday post–two weeks in a row. Here’s how close you are:
Olimometer 2.52

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 9th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I don’t understand my own ego.

How can I be so invested in self-expression that I’ll tell people it’s my reason for living, and at the same time be so self-effacing I almost erase myself sometimes?

Flip tapped the watch on his wrist to tell me it was time for Vitamin F. I took the bottle out of my jacket pocket–remember, I was carrying it around like a talisman–and tapped one out into my hand. I counted the ones left.

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 7th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I don’t understand arguments. I don’t understand what happens or why. I feel like other people must understand them better. Am I wrong?

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ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
( Feb. 4th, 2017 09:00 am)

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

(Thanks to generous donations last week from readers to our Paypal account, here is a Saturday post! Enjoy! -ctan)
On the bus to the venue, Flip sat down with me to strategize pharmaceuticals management. We decided on a Flexeril 30 minutes before soundcheck, another one 30 minutes before showtime (five hours later), and debated whether there was something else I could do in between the two that wouldn’t interact badly (i.e. no booze) or wreck my singing voice (i.e. nothing smoked). He had been doing some research, he said–though he didn’t say how–and didn’t think it was wise for us to mix in most other downers or relaxants (i.e. valium) but he’d see what he could come up with.

The venue was an indoor sports arena at the local university and it was big. Twice as big as I expected from that description, anyway. This place was bigger than Madison Square Garden.

By the way, no one’s explained to me why arenas like Madison Square Garden are called “gardens.” In Boston there’s the Boston Garden (now the TD Garden, thanks to naming rights). There’s no field or grass or flowers at these indoor stadiums so why the name? Just to make us think of a time when all sports were outdoor sports? I don’t know.

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