This is not the cover image I selected, but this is the one being chosen for me... imagine that the picture of my stuff in the train is the cover image...
As much as I loved my first trip to India, the second one was a whole nother thali plate. I should have taken a hint when the process of getting my upright bass there was such an evil nightmare months before I even left the US. Sometimes it’s good to persevere through adversity, sometimes life is just trying to tell you something.
So on my first trip I met some musicians who convinced me I should move to Delhi and play gigs because rich Indians like to have western jazz combos at their events as a status symbol. Great. So I had the choice of shipping my bass by boat or bringing my bass in the cargo hold of the plane (bassists once traveled with their basses in the seat next to them but as I found out later, this is no longer done because the seats have gotten smaller and smaller until most humans barely fit in them, let alone an upright bass).
By the way the only reason this works is because I can remove the neck of my upright...
Flight cases are very expensive for an upright bass. So I decided to try to make one with my father, who is quite handy. However. Making a sturdy case that big (think coffin sized) that weighs less than 30 kilos is a bit of a challenge and we underestimated the weight of our materials. So at the last minute I had to scramble to ship it in order to get it to Delhi in 3 months (shipping takes a long ass time). I had just a day or 2 to make the decision but the company said the bass would be there when I needed it. So I agreed.
Once they had my property safely tucked away in a shipping container, on a ship (so they said) they kept moving the date that it would arrive back further and further. Literally 2 months later than agreed on. They would not give me a refund, they would do nothing and there was nothing I could do since they had my property and I can’t afford a lawyer. These people are the scum of the earth.
So now I was in Delhi, and I was able to rent an apartment which I came to find out was so full of black mold that I, with a severe allergy to mold, felt like I was dying for about a week or 2. Here are some pictures I took from our balcony at night:
By the way have you ever been lucky enough to experience the call to prayer? It is hauntingly beautiful. Sometimes. Sometimes it sounds more like a futbol announcer. And there are usually at least 6 happening at the same time within earshot. All different. And loud. Just about every 4 hours.
Since my bass wouldn’t be arriving for 2 months, my partner and I hopped a train to Gokarna. The Monsoon had just ended so it wasn’t too hot. For me anyway, my partner was miserable and sick most of the time.
I made these while we were there though. The cement floor in the beginning of Sensory Deception is from the apartment that we had stayed at briefly in Delhi and then run away from. We did leave a bunch of stuff there while we went to Gokarna. And most of it was covered in mold when we got back....
I made most of this track and animation in India but the video came from a previous trip to Alaska and I recorded the trombone later.
I made this video in India but the music is from a musical project I had in California.
As time wore on, my partner grew weary of our situation and money got tighter. So she decided that when I went to Delhi to get my bass from customs, she would fly back to London and get a job. I decided that I was not going to stay in Delhi. Ironically Delhi is no place for anyone unless you’ve got some cash to spend. So I would get my stuff and go back to Gokarna until spring and then follow my partner to London. Did I mention I was traveling with an upright bass? And also an electric bass and small (but heavy) amp in addition to some other stupid things? I had planned to be living and working for some time in Delhi. I thought that since I had enjoyed the other places I had traveled to that I would have no problem living there for a while. I thought I would have an instrument to play when I got there and could start sliding into the jazz scene asap. I thought I wouldn’t have to pay any exorbitant fees to receive my own property when it arrived in the country since I had asked the people at the shipping company several times and they had skillfully evaded the question (turns out they’ll take everything you’ve got in that city and never think twice. Bureaucrats are also the scum of the earth.) I thought a lot of things and all of them turned out to be wrong.
So loaded up like a pack mule, I jumped back onto the train for another 40 hour trip but this time with all of my worldly possessions in tow. Luckily I’m used to looking foolish. It’s one of my many skills. I can almost make looking foolish look good. Almost.
Back in Gokarna, I thought I could make a little money playing at some of the beach cafes for other tourists and selling some homemade goodies on the beach. I have some friends there from having spent so much time there and had some interesting ideas. So I got the same little room on the beach I had rented a year ago and started playing and recording, waiting for the tourist season to pick up. I really thought the tourist season started earlier, there’s that mistake again, thinking. The tourist season never came for me that year. I did make some really cool music though, here are some highlights, but you can see the whole playlist here. There are about 16 in all.
Between my partner and I missing each other and my money just slipping through my fingers like the sand between my toes, I needed to get to London, find her, and find some work. This is where I found out why they don’t let upright basses on planes any more. I’m really good at being uncomfortable, so it was no problem. But if I wasn’t a skinny ass dude used to living in extremely cramped conditions and generally doing stupid things, it would have been a pretty rough couple of flights. I got my bass a seat by letting them assume it was a cello (I may have told them it was a cello) but it was technically (almost) within the size limits on both flights. I actually wore a tie and dress clothes for the whole ridiculous journey from Mumbai to London via Dubai just to grease the wheels so to speak. I guess it worked. Mostly everyone was actually pretty nice (except that one stewardess)(oh and also the border guy in the UK. Fuck those people twice). I would definitely fly Emirates again. They even asked me to take it out and play for them when I went through security in Dubai. Fun stuff.
So. If I had any pride it would have hurt to tell you all this ridiculous story of my folly. But really this is just a particularly silly few months out of an entire lifetime of stupidity. So my ego has been thoroughly squashed many times over. It doesn’t really get in the way much anymore. Which is great for you, the lucky reader, who gets to have a good laugh wondering what the hell this guy was thinking... thinking... yeah. I won’t be doing anymore of that if I’m smart. Which obviously I’m not.
Stay tuned for London! What crazy hijinks did I get up to there? We shall see...
More Musical Musings
“Takes a Village”
“Narcissus and the Goldmen” or “My Life as a Bloodbag”
“Groove Service” or “My Rebirth into Jazz”
“My Senior Recital” or “The End of an Era”
“And Then There Was Steemit” or “My Blocky Beginning”
“Back in the USSA” or “If the Van’s a Rockin’...”