jeff conlin - fall '03 archive

here's Mike & Ryan hanging out in my personal hit factory. (opens the full photo gallery)

This might reverberate back to me like the guy who took pics of Macintosh boxes on the Microsoft campus... but whatever.

On the day that NASA overwhelmingly tops the list of best government agencies to work for, I just came back from a meeting at Goddard (where most people walk around mumbling to themselves about how the hell they're expected to work with such tiny budgets).

My main customer there (Space Station Research Program Office) has just been told that they have no Earth Science budget for the next five years. This is just a few months after my old main customer (Small Shuttle Payloads) more or less got the boot, being told the Shuttle is to become more of an ISS maintenance vehicle than anything else.

This has been agreed on by administration and budget folks, but no one actually working on the program, and none of the agency figureheads have heard yet. I imagine when they do, it will turn into a fiery debate.

I won't go into why this is the biggest most f'd up (intentional) blunder I've seen in my 7 years working with them... those reasons should be pretty obvious. But now that I'm easing out of that work, looking at it as a taxpayer, I'm even more upset.

First off, there are tens of millions of dollars worth of Earth Science payload scheduled to go up. They're frozen now. Secondly, Microgravity research (the ISS's primary mission) is well and good, but doesn't have nearly the short-term, instantly-recognizable benefit to society that Earth Science research has.

I truly believe the ISS has been one of mankind's most brilliant projects... a shining example of international unity and innovation. But due to shuttle complications, corporate greed (BOEING!), politics, and maverick budgeting... its most practical uses are disallowed, and it turns into little more than a multi-billion-dollar trophy / floating treehouse.

ISS could have provided a platform to put up very low-budget Earth Science projects from small universities and colleges that can't compete with the Caltechs and Stanfords who put up their own spacecraft... and those experiments are more often environment-oriented than otherwise. Plus, they'd be able to accomplish longer-term research than a two-week shuttle mission, as they'd have many months of time between rotations. It just seemed to be the perfect solution.

Following STS-107 (one of the most scientifically successful shuttle missions despite its tragic ending), I felt more proud than ever to work for NASA, even in my lowly PR/support role. The projects that I'd been involved in over and over again were low-cost Shuttle-based Earth Science payloads that had a clear, easy-to-understand reason for being flown, as the data provided incredible insight into Earth's complex environmental systems. Those programs also maintained a great effort to make connections with primary and secondary schools... both in teaching, and in bringing them into the research (and PR blitz that surrounded it).

These programs were, to me, some of the best examples of why NASA is so important to America. Enabling academic research, engaging young minds, answering tough questions, and for reasonable amount of public money. Instead, they were seen by administrators as useless budget items... that money could be better used on high-dollar microgravity research for our 15-75 year out mission to Mars or beyond, rather than benefitting Earth and its inhabitants now.

The excuse given has always been that with increasing privatization, those smaller, more easily accessible opportunities can be taken care of privately. Sure... when have you heard a Boeing or Lockheed go to a small elementary school in the ghetto and offer a free teaching and research partnership?

Bush is going to announce a "new vision for NASA" sometime soon. What that means has been kept a tight secret... and no one's sure if it will be announced during the Wright's 100th anniversary, or perhaps the next State of the Union... even Columbia's 1-year anniversary (kinda grim)... but chances are it will be human exploration... a clearer plan for Mars... maybe first go back to the moon (gotta stay on top of China). Any direction NASA decides to pursue is going to be noble and just on some level... I mean... it's NASA for God's sake... but there's no doubt in my mind that whatever the new focus is, it will be a giant leap away from the simple, practical, educational pursuits of the small Shuttle payloads program, and Station research program office... and their death will pull NASA that much further out of both the intellectual and imaginative minds of future generations of Americans.

11/07/03 - 11:32pm (lay it down easy like)
Saw Dawn Kinnard and her band play at Iota last night. What an amazing show, and I'm not just saying that because my dear old friend James plays keys for her... three people on stage playing eight instruments, simultaneously. Right on.

Finally have the basement back together. Totally rearranged, rewired, and decluttered in the process. It almost feels like a new home.

Now that the studio is back up, I spent part of this evening messing around on the Fantom just letting ideas out. Worked up an interesting latin/jazz/disco/pop thing that might go nice with some vocals... almost has a Gil Scott Heron kind of feel (thanks to the ARP).

11/05/03 - 9:41pm (big trouble. for you.)
The fall diet. Nat Sherman mints. Godiva Irish Cream coffee. Glenlivet. Yikes. Heather's right. I am a lush. Somehow I've lost 7lbs in the last few weeks, though I'm not really eating well. Maybe it's the lack of regular Peanut M&M injections from the office vending machine.

Pedal steel tracks on the Roy album. Accordion and violin are next, then we're done and the show of shows commences. (see right)

Sellin' Dad's old Mercury Grand Marquis. Not quite the old-man car I originally assumed. Almost has a mob vibe to it. Or maybe that's just all the Sopranos I've been watching lately (up to season 4 now).

Sat in for the great Chuck Pearson on keyboard for the Blue Crab's premiere show down in St. Mary's on Saturday. Sadly, Chuck's got some unknown brain/nervous system condition that's really messing with him, but the show must go on apparently, and who am I to refuse a good chunk of cash? Swing, jump blues, soul standards... nice mix of stuff, made nicer by a full horn section... but there should be a law against white men singing Otis. Punishable by death.

10/30/03 - 3:54am (i got a mule to ride)
Damn fine gig with Detroit Slim in at Cat's Eye in Baltimore tonight. Detroit shuffles around some of the best players in the mid atlantic to keep it fresh (tonight included Ezell Jones on drums), so you never know what to expect. The feel with this group was way more straight jazz than anything else, but had periods of wide open exploration in the Corea/Davis vibe. I spent most of the evening with the Leslie braked and in the mid-1950s kind of tone (listened to some Wild Bill Davis and Charles Earland on the way up to get in the right mindset)

Got a call halfway through from Mike Roy (I always love getting phone calls in the middle of a show and letting whoever it is hear whatever I'm doing in the moment)... we've been given the Baltimore Creative Alliance space for the CD release party. (We both feel this album deserves a special kind of release, not just a Talking Head show, which isn't to say we don't love that place, just want a really class production for this masterpiece).

Details on the right. Exact date/time to come in a day or two. (Actually, Mikey told me, but I was too drunk to remember what he said).

I've found some gleaming reviews for the Beyonce remix. It didn't get picked up by the distribution company like we'd hoped (bastards), but it's slowly making its way into the hands of independent DJs, and they're diggin' the most.

The portable studio is now up and running, too (tube-preamped 24/96 digital multitrack recording onto a laptop, how great is that?). Going to get some session Dobro work for the Roy album with Dru Lore sometime in the next few days, then maybe some pedal steel from a young cat in Baltimore. Goooood stuff. A good time for music. A good time for sleep. G'nite.

10/29/03 - 1:52am (and goodwill to all)
The DC drag race. Watching a few hundred grown men dressed up all slutty and running 3 blocks in the rain in high heels... not to mention the fact that easily a more than a thousand people came out to cheer them on, as well as full police cooperation and closed streets... that gives me more faith in humanity than just about anything else I've seen lately. Especially humanity in DC (which is usually hard to come by). Thanks to Karen, Cherisse, and their friends for a great time... and the 250lb latino queen at Chaos who said (in an amazing Spartacus Agador kind of voice), "Don't worry, baby, we'll find you a nice straight girl in here somewhere. I'm sure of it."

Henry has done a lot of thought (more feeling, really) and deconstructed the Chet Baker Mood with amazing clarity. I had a hard time describing my overwhleming mindset this year. Robert Smith? Too overwrought (and once he got married it was all over - "Friday I'm in Love"????). Chris Isaak? Nah, I'm not that hot. Elliott Smith? Sheeeit. The more I thought about it, I couldn't agree more with Henry's "the Chet Baker mood", though I sort of see it as a two-parter. I think Henry focuses on the subdued passion, the hazy emotional drunkenness... which I see as stage two... but before you can get there, there's a sharp melancholy taken with a self-deprecating grain of salt. Then it sort of flows through hurt, sensitivity, then the interplay between sentimentality, passion, and hope. So (like most experiences that put you in that mindset to begin with) it's one of those things you are uncomfortable with while you're in it, then long for when you're out of it. I would define that entire process as the Chet Baker Experience... only that sounds like either a bad punk band name and/or a ride at the Heroin Amusement Park.

Either way, I'm overanalyzing it to the point of not being remotely interesting anymore. DRAG RACE! GET IT? Ahh, life.

Musically kinda schizophrenic tonight. Just went from Grant Green to Stereolab to Chet Baker... (Henry's got Fair Weather up on his site as he's got a mellow mood going.)

It's been a Chet Baker kind of year. But strangely, a solid month of unemployment has done wonders for my general well being. Even with the most recent round of annoying crap (basement flood recovery is still far from complete), I feel like I've finally moved on to a new place (or maybe just pulled my head out of my ass.)

Just a lot more motivation in the bones lately. Not really the kind of motivation to bring about a massive worldwide coup (yet)... more the kind to really pursue happiness, or at least peace. Things just make a lot more sense these last few days, it's a great thing, even despite the militant asian racist who called me a "Crakkker Elf". Ya'd think he could have been more ethnically sensitive and at least said "Crakkker Leprechaun".

After a 19 hour day of tying up loose ends at work (I was totally in the zone... actually quite enjoyed it), I went club hopping with Q and his rich boss. Lemur was dead, so over to 18th St. Lounge. I love that place when the mood's right (Jimmy Smith record playing, glass full of gin, beautiful woman, that sort of thing - not that I've ever gotten above 2 out of 3 on that - again, yet), but they wanted something more high energy, so over to 5. Used some of that newfound motivation and was dancing/talking with two very cute girls for a while. They were nice enough, but didn't appear all that interested... asked if they were together, and they kind of blushed, held hands, and said "yyyeah." Even if it was a getaway, it was a good one.

Donned the tux and played the Calvert Museum Ball tonight. Ditched the uncomfortable shoes halfway and wore my Tevas. Damn dirty hippie. At one point in the night the only folks on the dance floor were an 85 year old couple. And they were gettin' DOWN! It was beautiful.

Rolled to Ledbetters in NE afterwards and joined up with the tail end of Clarence's set (including Henry and the amazing Bill Heid on piano)... man I love playing with that group. Not only is everyone a heck of a musician, but they're all just great people all around (packin' up, sandals still on, Sean Graves said "you look like Jesus coming home from the Prom". Rock.)

The long and short of it : it's time. As the M3's navigation system told us when we pulled up on 18th St... "You have arrived." Nothing wrong with a little fortune cookie style self-help from a $45k talking car. Hell, was there ever a more self-confident, motivated individual than Michael Knight??

10/23/03 - 1:14am (calculate early reflections)
Heather mentioned Elliott Smith's suicide and included some thoughts. At some point today, I saw mention of it on the E! news ticker of all places. I wasn't a dedicated fan, but I do have one particularly strong memory tied to his music.

Up at Peabody Conservatory's studio one cold, damp weekend early last year with Mike while wrapping up production on his album. Our ears were shot, the sun had been up for hours, though no one had slept in days. In general, it was a pretty good time in life. Good enough to be taking much of it for granted. Inside the studio, antique equipment was acting up, thought processes were slowing down, and the strong emotions of collaborative creativity clashed with increasing physical and mental limitations

. At some point, during a long, much-needed break, Mike sits down at the Steinway and stumbles through the first few notes of Smith's "Waltz No.1". Once he gets the hang of it, Drew joins him with some light brushes... it was absolutely beautiful.

Eventually, we call it a day, pack up, and head home. I stopped by a used CD shop on the way and grabbed XO. Leaving good ol' Baltimore, dreaming of what was next for Roy, contemplating my rocky but then-happy relationship with Kim, the recent round of holidays and a birthday without my grandfather or uncle around anymore, my friends, my search for a direction in life... blending together into this moment of growth and clarity, a recognition of what really mattered and why that's what hurts the most sometimes... all gently accompanied by this dissonant, haunting tune of a man who clearly knew more about it all than I ever would. Maybe too much.

The album version of Waltz No.1 has a clean piano, orchestral flourishes, and tightly compressed vocals... in line with how the song found its way into my life, I feel really fortunate to have found this rough demo mix on Epitonic.

Damn shame.

Crap. Rerun's dead, too. Now for some reason I want to laugh. Fred Berry is always a punch line. (Not such a bad thing to strive for, I guess). Founding member of one of the most influential dance troupes in the world (more or less responsible for the rise of breakdancing), successful actor, ordained Baptist minister... but he'll always be the fat guy in the red beret.

Strange, sad day.

10/20/03 - 2:51am (say what you mean)
Still in flood mode. Pulled up more carpet. Surprisingly, I think my upgraded bleach solution is actually doing the trick. The landlord ain't crazy about the idea of putting down new carpet, and my last round of mildew-hunting was bountiful. I'll give it another day or two and see if I am satisfied.

Maryland Microbreweries Oktoberfest with Moto Crew folks on Saturday. Got my ass kicked by some potent potables. DuClaw's diabolical 16% nameless peachy barleywine concoction literally had me ready to fight anyone who looked at me weird. Well, maybe the Twisted Kilt wee heavy, Devil's Milk Barleywine, and a couple helpings of the Ellicott City Bitchin' Red Head (plus an actual bitchin' red head) contributed.

Angstiness is still high. I'm just realizing that I'm not good at juggling. Admitted, there have been a lot of things to keep up in the air this year, but try hard to throw a new ball in the works and everything else drops. I've dropped my share of balls recently. Umm... not the good way. Huh??

Played with the Westcotts over at Kclinger's Publik House in Harrisburg on Friday. Another great place with lots of good beer (70 taps, 600 bottles), good friends ('Maggot Dave Ryder and his... Susan came down and wound up being our only audience at the end of the night save for a girl in a shirt that was just a few sizes too small), and good music, of course). We haven't played together in a long time, so they sprung some new stuff on me and the energy we had finding our way through 'em was great. Southbound was written by Papa Westcott and sort of feels flike a pack of Marlboro lights. Phil led a bass-heavy free-for-all sort of open jam sort of thing, and we nailed our gospel-tinged reprise at the end of Stone Drunk & Naked. Recording quality on these isn't so great because I forgot to change the battery on the mic. Ah well, you get the idea.

Here's hoping for a more orderly, less stinky, less melodramatic week... but with equal or greater amounts of bootyshakin'.

10/17/03 - 6:15pm

(karma overloaded)
OK, this year just went from depressing to entertainingly absurd. Jamie put a load of laundry in on Tuesday night. I woke up Wednesday morning, heard the sound of rushing water. Got out of bed and heard a splash. Apparently the washing machine had been filling for about 7hours straight. 2" of standing water all over the unfinished area of the basement, and a completely soaked carpet in my room (the finished area).

First I moved everything I owned up to the living room. Then, rented some industrial wetvacs and fans and worked for the last 48 hours cleaining this crap up as best as I could. 60 gallons of water just in my carpet and padding alone. Wound up sleeping in one of the empty rooms upstairs. It's been a barrel o' fun.

But making it a little brighter, I got a laptop. No real reason why. Just couldn't walk away from the deal. Slick little 12" Sharp, AMD 1800XP, 256MB, 40GB, Firewire, DVD/CDRW, wireless, etc. Managed to work the price from $1399 down to $800 after some haggling, some compromises, and a cleverly avoided Sharp $150 rebate I knew about. Now I'm typing this update from the potty. Hooray! The future is NOW!

Had my favorite meal home-cooked for me unknowingly by Dukr's best friend and all-around superwoman Sara. Then we sat around, drank, and watched Joe Rogan's standup DVD and the Red Sox/Yankees game. Nice way to forget about the basement.

God, I hate mildew.

10/11/03 - 12:25pm

Ehh, decided just not to sleep at all last night. Need to get back on a human schedule. Have been silly productive since 7am. Changed the oil in the Nissan, bought a garbage disposal and vacuum cleaner, pressure washed my deck furniture, vacuumed the house, did laundry, got a haircut, and enjoyed a tasty omlette. That's more than I've done this whole week!

Pitchfork took me on a trip down glorious high school music memory lane. Ahh, the last great days of HFS.

10/11/03 - 2:23am

First off : those "Bacardi and Cola" early-80s NBC-style-cop-show ads... pretty funny ("Who's dirty?"), but have you noticed that the intro/outro skyline shot is of Baltimore? Am I the only one laughing? Ok.

Dad rocks and rolls. Had enough of the old-man car... . '03 black-on-black blinged-out Miata took its place. If anyone deserves it, it's him.

We hung out for a long time tonight... not sure if it was the car, imminent retirement, or just that I haven't really spent a lot of time with him alone, but I saw a new side of him... and it was a far cry from the bureaucrat suburban father archetype that I tend to generalize him into. I really like it.

Outback take-home with mom & dad, then off to Tryst to meet up with Kas, Erika, and a girl from Erika's new show. There were some order complications, so after my massive porterhouse dinner, I wind up also having to put away a free brownie, silly chai tea smoothie thing, in addition to the Glenlivet and huge cup of coffee that I ordered. Hey, it was that or watch 'em get thrown away. A po' man's gotta EAT when he CAN!

Walking back to the Embassy of F*ckatania or wherever it was I parked, I met up with the dreadlocked and open-container-holding Charles. Didn't want money. Didn't want cigarettes. Just wanted to tell me that "All the shit you see every day. It don't matter. All your worries about career and clothes and cars and all that... that shit's useless in the end. JUST ENJOY YOUR LIFE, BOY! LIVE IT WELL... don't waste it worrying and working for stuff you can't take with you anyway."

I guess he had me confused with one of the throngs of empty soulless young NW types also wearing wool pants... Wound up talking about life, faith, politics, and just gettin' by and being happy without money. "OK. Yeah, I can see it now. You know what's up. Sorry to bother you! Gimme a hug, man! Hey... you got a dollar?". Aww, Charles... what did I just tell you?

10/09/03 - 1:58am

ever have one of those nights where you wonder how in the heck you got home, much less with a quarter pound cheeseburger in one hand, a mustard stain on your t-shirt, and a ringing in your ears?

Well you should, darn it.

Went just down the road (Kenilworth) to Chick Hall's Surf Club tonight with the primary intention of hooking up with the legendary Dru Lore to do some slide work on the Mike Roy album (check this craziness out!). Wound up playing a set there, getting my drinks bought by an Indian businessman opening an Exxon station in Landover, and critically theorizing on the future of the blues with none other than Blue Lou. And now I'm home. And dizzy. And surprisingly adept with HTML.

G'night.

10/09/03 3:51am (only there tryin' t' fool the public)
I picked the wrong tape to listen to.

While the cassette deck cranks out old English Beat - Smokey Robinson, World Party - David Bowie, Ocean Blue - Morrissey, or Skatalites - Beatles covers, I'm still dizzy, still suffering from insomnia, and wondering why, at the very root of it all, people supplant stability for happiness. Be true to yourself. If you can't even do that, what's the point?

What I woudn't give to live 1995 over again...

I wish I had a story to tell... I wish I knew the one of the tomato that swam like a statue of Carmen Miranda. I wish I could lie on a stack of soft pillows, and eat molten lava. I wish I could eat the corn of joy and sorrow. But all is not lost, no all is not lost. Not yet. I have a garbage disposal, dinner plans, and dog biscuits.

Good times.

10/05/03 - 8:26am

A weekend of sleeping at 6am, waking up at 3pm, and not remembering what happened in between. But goodness was it fun. Camelot ain't Camelot without the Women of Inc.

Angstiness is rising... I made the mistake of checking my bank account balance the other day. Wow, unemployment costs a lot more than I had initially estimated.

Top ramen & tuna fish sammiches, here I come!

10/03/03 - 4:01am

(I can burn down this building)
I got a lap steel this week. Oh, it's hot. Soooo hot. Now I just have to learn to play it.

Today I went back to Swales for the first time in two weeks... finally got a FedEx package containing the last voiceover work from some astronauts in Houston to complete what is probably my last NASA video project (more about it here).

The more I think about it, the more this all bums me out. It's been a great place to be for seven years... oddly enough, I realized how much I really loved being there in the midst of the agency's darkest hour. My whole month of February was one of those horrible life experiences that are simultaneously filled with so much sheer beauty... I still get a little shaky just at the thought... but I won't ramble. You can read about that in the Winter '03 archives if you want. Anyway, the dark irony of going from being instrumental in the Columbia science data preservation (often described as the crew's true tangible legacy) to being "softly laid-off" as a result of NASA's own bureaucratic fumbling following the same event, not to mention my own company's mounting greed and failure to recognize its employees' worth beyond anything more than profit-making potential (my group doesn't LOSE money, we just don't make much) ... is not lost on me.

Nor is the fact that I write run-on sentences.

After that, I did what I always wished I could do when I was full-time and split around 2:30 to go hiking. It was one of those perfect fall days. Only took three days for it to get cold and breezy, but with the weather change came that surrealistically clear visibility that sort makes you second-guess what you're seeing. HDTV to summer's static-y black'n'white air.

The Potomac's calmed back down, and Isabel has rearranged Great Falls' Billy Goat Trail a bit. Lots of new tree bridges, plus New jettys and beaches where there used to be ponds... and vice versa. Tons of kayakers out in the rapids. I made a few 6-month resolutions as I was out hiking... one of which is that I WILL take up Kayaking before next summer. The others... they're secrets. Shhh!

On the way home, I grabbed some Sam Adams Cream Stout, steamed chicken and ginger, and yellowfin sashimi. Mmmm.

Wrapped up the tracking for Mike Roy's album last night, then headed over to the ol' Black Cat to join Heather's post-GRE-failure sha-bang. Met some cool folks, and heard a little Clem Snide... awesome stuff. H-dogg and I rolled over to the Diner afterwards for late nite burgers and fries. Mmmmm-mmmm! Sure beats drunk drivin'! The Diner really is less like a restaurant and more like a dependable, solid friend. I miss my weekly Toulouse gig dearly.

Speaking of missing things... two nights ago, I hung out with the JLM guys for the first time in a long while. JLM was a Christian funk/rap/rock band that I played/toured with for a few years. It was an interesting era ... I could go into detail, but this is already long enough for one day... regardless, despite any differences in opinion, clashes of philosophy, etc.... they were amazing guys, and it was a great couple of years together. Scouring through my old backups, I actually found the JLM webpage as it stood in late '98 as we were about to wrap it all up. The pictures are great.

Sheesh. Enough Cream Stout for this little storyteller.