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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

just saw Grizzly Bear but they already replaced the letters

just saw Grizzly Bear but they already replaced the letters

Fall is the best season to seed lawns because the climate is mild enough to give the grass a start, and not so wet as spring which washes the seed away.  I nurture the castle turf of the rich and famous, reminiscing about my own corner lot in Knoxville where my varied grass blend appears mangled and chewed  before it dies in the heat of July.  None compares to the miniature fescue forests I am in charge of now; not one weed or brown patch remains for yes, I am lawn master (or “Levon the technician” as I write on the bill).

Yacht clubs and suburbia make me miss Old North Knoxville with its dogwoods and Victorian charm.  Empty beaches mean summer is gone, and soon the people will be in Appalachia to see the colors of old mountains.

I’ve had the priviledge by my brother in law to join an elite list of banquet caterers at the Silver Palate.  Of the 25 or so scattered individuals that file in for these weekend events, almost every guy there is a friend of Dustin’s and go to a church here called Wave. We try and be a serious wait staff, but always keep each other in on where the accessible food is, who is hilarious to watch on the dance floor, and the best practices for getting the heck out of there as soon as possible.  Our events have ranged from a Korean wedding in a glass cathedral full of origami cranes, an ocean side gay wedding vow renewal (for the marriage sadly had to happen elsewhere), and a Jewish wedding in a synagogue.  As a self titled student of the human condition, I appreciate sharing good times of people at their best with the ones they love most.  There is always good food to take home.  I’m not afraid to bring Tupperware.

In August, we washed up at this beach (an allowable metaphor if you will let me).  Anyway, we had caught a little of our breath on the farm, but had put off our busted state from the short skirmish of a battle against the man and the hipster in New York City.  The fight is not over, for the man has power as the hipster has cool; but we have a little bit of money.  Enough money, in fact, to properly release my CD which formerly was a burned copy and a custom album drawing with a Sharpie by Ashley.  Friends think that’s neat.  But the industry, the man, and the hipster need gloss finish and a bar code (okay, the hipster likes the matte finish).

By the end of November I plan on releasing two CDs at once.  The first one I recorded last December and never could put it out.  The second is my New York EP.  December was piano and jazz, the new one is acoustic guitars with a sort of quirky keyboard laden and electronic, country feel.  It’s very genre unspecific, loosely Americana but vaguely urban and beachy.  Sort of like a Kentucky boy singing of home and Manhattan, his final thoughts given by toes in the sand.  Both of the projects are things I really needed to say, and getting it said has been one of the largest round-about processes of life I could have imagined.  They will be on iTunes and amazon and in my trunk, all in November.

More on that to come.  Tomorrow night Ashley is showing at an event in downtown Norfolk at the Warehouse in W. Ghent.  Her work will also be up at Bad Ass Coffee on the oceanfront all November.  I have a show at the Boot in Ghent on Nov 7th.

Seeding season is almost over so I won’t have to write blogs at 6 in the morning if I’m going to write them.  I missed you.

more on this soon

more on this soon

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