Butch's Blog

2007-09-13T11:50:00.001-07:00

JEFF WOOD
1965 - 2007
"Forever beating the drum of our hearts."

To my bandmate, friend, partner in crime (as the Captain and Manager used to call us), and brother:

It was an honor and pleasure every moment we created music together, shared stories and laughs, watched "the footie", and "fucked up eggs". The heartbreak and void right now is huge and painful. God bless you Woody. I love you,
Butch
P.S. GO ARSENAL!!!

2007-09-11T17:32:00.000-07:00

As most of you who check out this blog regularly realize, I have been laying low for the past few months. Recently, I saw in the guest book a question: what was up, where and how have I been? While I am a very private person, I feel a certain responsibility to explain to those who support my musical endeavors, where I've "been". I can't imagine readers want to hear repeated entries about tough times, depression, etc. That's for the therapist, so I thought it best not to write until there was something different to say. The mood has been bleak. I blog to share insights, not to dump troubles to the world wide web.However, I feel I must explain my blog "disappearance". The past 18 months have been difficult, the last six and a half horrific. Illness, divorce, and death seem to be a constant. I have lost family members, people I was very close to, and have seen a close friend slowly begin to lose his fight for life. Unfortunately, I will probably be writing more in these pages about him, and our terrible loss, in the days that lie ahead. News of writing songs, recording them, etc. seem quite unimportant to me these days. The fact that a new CD is nearly finished really has had little time in my thoughts. The fact that I have and will continue to cut back on live shows should not come as a surprise or concern. I will always keep the faith, it's just that I need space to do that right now. I know I recently blasted someone who said I was done, and I again say I am not done, but I am on a bit of a break. My reality is down to basics; life, love and death. Guitars and songs and tours and stories have to take a back seat for a while. I thank those who have always supported me. You are friends (even those I only know through e-mails and guestbook entries), and your understanding and "good vibes" are definately appreciated. There are great people out there who care so I felt I needed to explain myself, not leave them in the dark. I'll stay in touch. I just need time. As always, thanks for listening. Please keep Woody and his family in your thoughts and prayers. Take care. Later, Butch

2007-06-19T16:14:00.000-07:00

Regardless of what someone wrote in response to "Cindy" asking where I've gone (on the guestbook page of butchryan.net), I am not "gone". I'm still here. I'm ok. As many of you know (who know me) or have read in these pages, the past 6 months or so have been very difficult. Woody's illness, the passing of my father, along with personal issues I won't share on these pages, have left me worn out a bit. I decided to take June off. I haven't blogged since April. To be honest, it's hard to blog when things in your life seem to be falling down around you. But rest assured, I AM NOT GONE! Now while I know some who read this blog would be saddened to hear that (if they don't like me why do they even come to my site?), many and most of you who are great supporters and/or good friends will be happy to hear I'm comin' 'round. If it may seem that if when it rains it pours Butch has had a hurricane blowing for the last half year, I'm here to tell you the sky is starting to clear. Before all this I've had plenty of blue sky, and I know there are blue skies ahead. As much as I try to stay out of the guestbook wars, sit back, read, and laugh at how some hate the way I dress while others come to my rescue and say it's all only about the music, it pisses me off, quite frankly, that someone out there:
#1 - answers "Cindy" for me
#2 - answers that I'm gone
I am certainly not "gone", and I challenge the person who feels I am to come out to Tank's on July 7th and see how "gone" I am.
To those who are still with me, let me assure you I've been gathering my thoughts, spirit, and drive. The CD that was haulted during recording due to Woody's illness will resume production shortly (I've been in contact with Steve Connelly and we actually had done quite a bit before the stop). Rock and roll will never die, and Butch Ryan is not gone. If you (and you know who you are) are sitting there thinking "bullshit", I can only offer you a sincere "FUCK YOU!"... and I hope to see you at the next show.
Take care. Later, Butch

2007-04-23T06:38:00.000-07:00

I was listening to the Ramones this morning. It's so cool how they blended punk with 50's rock and roll. Simplicity and honesty. I guess that's why it worked. Sometimes if you've got something to say all you need is a guitar and 3 chords (see Bob Dylan). Keep it simple. Bigger is not always better... ladies! Seriously though, more more more doesn't always work (see New York Yankees) unless you're Billy Idol and it's the midnight hour (see "Rebel Yell"... ladies). There must be something real there. Which brings me back to the Ramones: they weren't trying to save the world, they just wanted to have a good time while they were part of it. I think that's an important lesson we can all learn from. Keep it simple and honest in everything you do, in the way you live your life. True, easier said than done, but that doesn't mean you can't strive for that to become your M.O. If you come up short, hell, you've still gotten further and gained some sort of understanding along the way than if you just sat there feeling crappy. Who would of thunk it: the Ramones can get me to focus on the bigger picture! As The Who once said, "Long live rock", at least for me. Maybe the kid next door gets it from Jay Z? Whatever... ladies. Take care. Later, Butch

2007-04-03T05:09:00.000-07:00

Low, low, low. Feelin' low, layin' low. Low is the law of the land.

2007-04-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

It's Opening Day for the baseball season. The Cubbies are in Cincy to take on the Reds. My dad isn't here. This sucks. I can't seem to get excited about it. My dad would be all over this game today. Zambrano is on the mound for Chicago. He loved watching that guy pitch. The amout of heartbreak I am currently feeling is beyond words. I miss my dad so much, even more on days like today, days we both looked forward to and shared so many times. As I write this I feel my eyes filling up so I will stop now.

OK, I'm ready to move on. I'm sucking it up for my Papa. I'll will try to watch our beloved Cubs. Can't promise I'll get through it all, can't promise I won't get upset while watching. But I WILL watch, and then tonight I will discuss it out loud for a few minutes before I go to bed, discuss it with him. Talk aloud to him like I do every night. Tell him I love him, miss him. Talk about our Cubs. Yep, that's what I'm gonna do. GO CUBS! Take care. Later, Butch

2007-03-16T07:17:00.000-07:00

In Tom Petty's song "Walls", he sings, "Some days are diamonds, some days are rocks." I must admit my days (and mostly nights, when your brain isn't occupied with the daily bullshit and you're forced to think about things) have been pretty rocky. Sleep doesn't come with ease. It only arrives with utter exhaustion. Diamonds are rare. Little lights of sunshine, with an occasional laugh, feel great. They give me hope that in time, although things will NEVER be the same, I'll feel a bit brighter on the inside. My dad is on my mind constantly. It's in a good way: I think back to a fond memory, or hear what he'd be saying about a topic that's just crossed my ears. But always soon after, the saddness creeps in. We were close. I spoke to him everyday. During the week, 3 o'clock was our time. Three o'clock now arrives daily with pain. I miss him so much. It doesn't help baseball is back. Baseball was our biggest common denominator (besides my son Ryno). Yep, it hurts. Take care. Later, Butch
P.S. If you don't have a team, or really don't follow baseball, make the Cubs yours. My Papa is working a deal upstairs. This is the year!

2007-03-12T05:32:00.000-07:00

Last Friday night was a wonderful experience. I needed something, even if it dealt with emotions again. My son (who turns 13 next week) had his first gig. He plays bass guitar. It was his school's talent show. Sound familar? I think for many of us our first gig was a school talent show. For me it was The Cars "Let's Go", followed by Cheap Trick's "My Baby Loves To Rock" at drummer and friend Ivan's Junior High School. We were bad, and it was glorious. I'll never ever forget that first gig. I felt empowered. Anyway, 4 days till the gig he comes home bummed that the singer and drummer bailed. I called the guy running the show. I told him my son would still do the gig only my old friend (and original Groovy Cool band mate) Nino Perkola would be on drums, and I would be singing. The guy said no problem. So there I found myself Friday night jamming to "Wild Thing" with my kid to my left rockin' the bass. It was neat. I didn't feel old, I felt close and proud. I hope he can get out of that Fender bass what I've gotten out of my Telecaster: pure enjoyment. Passing the torch can be sweet especially when the torch bearer ain't done burnin' his torch just yet. Rock on Ryno! Take care. Later,
Butch

2007-03-07T06:42:00.000-08:00

Sunday, February 25th was the worst day of my life (up until now of course, as I know life has unbelievable ups and horrible horrible downs). My father, my hero, my friend passed away. I didn't see it coming although signs were there he was sick, very sick. He kept stuff from me as not to worry me. The pain I am feeling is one that is much too extreme to explain. It's a lonely desperate heartbreaking panic that leaves you feeling broken and empty, sad and confused. It's been a fucking nightmare that I've so so wanted to wake from. Reality is harsh. The tears seem never to end, never to lessen. Knowing I'll never share a laugh, a Cubs game, a moment of enlightenment with the man I've loved more than any other (except for my son) is at times too much to take. My memories are vast and brillant. Nothing left unsaid or unexpressed here. We understood, accepted, and loved each other very very much. He was beyond a father and mentor to me. He was my friend. He took Cubs losses just as hard, he enjoyed family road trips just as much, he lived life just as focused on that which will sustain you. I thank all those who have been so tender and wonderful to both me and my family these past few days. It really is comforting. I have faith God will help us all, that this too shall pass. I know it'll never be the same but that life will continue. We will all have great times in the future, they just might be lacking something (my dad). Don't worry about me. I have many close and supportive people around me. I just need time to mend these wounds. May God bless my father as He blessed me by giving me such a loving and wonderful father. I love you Papa. Thanks for still talking to me in my daily thoughts. You will always be with me. Take care. Later,
Butch

2007-02-12T09:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was GREAT! Woody and I jammed at the practice warehouse. Although he doesn't have total use of his left arm and foot, THE Jeff Wood went at it with one stick, AND... kicked some ass! I went in thinking we'd do this for a few minutes just for our emotions and attitudes but noooooooo, not Woody. We jammed, baby. We worked on material we had started working on before the surgery. It was awesome. I couldn't contain my emotions. It was pure joy. He's a ways off, but what a fuckin' trooper. He's a musician, and you can't keep a musician down even if he's cut in half (figuratively speaking). Woody hears drums in his head and he's got to get them out. I thank God I had the pleasure of seeing my buddy be able to do this again. Now, the skies are the limit. Patience and time. That's all now. Told ya we'd be back! God bless Jeff Wood. The wonderful fill in drummers will continue for a bit but little by little... I don't care how long it takes. Soon there will be projects Woody and I can work on while we're waiting for his full recovery. Take care. Later, Butch

2007-01-24T06:16:00.000-08:00

Quick update on things: Woody is moving forward, staying positive. His brother Jim has a cool site where you can keep up with Woody, post messages, medical updates, pictures, etc. Check out www.carepages.com. Type in JeffWoody. As for the band, we're playing a few shows here and there with fill in drummers. Keeping it light for now. As for the CD, I'm taking that slow as well. I'm hopeful that Woody will be up to going to the studio in the near future and lending his ears to mixes and B3 and pedal steel parts. I'm kinda waiting on that before moving further. I started this CD with Jeff there and I want to finish it the same way... so I'll wait till Woody is up to it. Being I don't have anybody breathing down my neck to get a new CD out, I want to enjoy the experience of making a CD (though during the making of this one there's been some tough shit to deal with). Part of the experience is the people you create the music with. So I'm waiting on my friend, and I'll continue to wait till he can be a part of it. And in the end every time I'll listen back to that CD it will take me back to the wonderous moments we had making it. It's all about memories. They can never take those away. Never. Take care. Later, Butch

2007-01-17T07:11:00.000-08:00

I know it's been almost a month since I last blogged. It's been a hell of a month. Two days after I last blogged, I went down hard. The highest my temp reached was 104.5 on Christmas Eve. I ended up going to the emergency room for dehydration twice. I've lost almost 10 pounds. If somebody thought my arms looked like toothpicks before, look out now. But I'm starting to feel better. I haven't sang in over a month. This Saturday will be the first gig back, and first of the year. In other much more important news (enough about me!) Woody is doing better. Still a long way to go but there's blue skies ahead. Little by little, day by day, we'll get our old Jeff Wood back. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers. While hopeful, he's nowhere near being out of the woods, but next to the news a few weeks back, things are looking better. We hope to spring him this weekend and go watch the footie at a pub and fuck up some eggs. It will be a slice of heaven to be able to do that with Woody again. We must all stay optimistic. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-12-21T08:44:00.000-08:00

I know it's been almost a month since I last blogged. Much has happened. Unfortunately, it's been bad bad shit. My drummer, my friend, my brother, my partner in crime (as Karen likes to call us) is very ill. Woody (Jeff Wood) is in the hospital. The news after his surgery has been bad. With respect to him and his family, I shall not disclose details only to say that those who know him will realize it's a repeat of a few years back but this time much harsher. I ask that those of you who believe (as I do) keep Woody and his family (me, Karen, the guys in the band included) in your deepest of thoughts and prayers. It's been very hard. Keep the healing vibe alive! This whole thing is in His hands, as it always is I guess. I'm just so much more reminded of that these days. As for the man, THE Jeff Wood, his mood is great. He's anxious to get back to the rehearsal spot and beat the living fuck out of his drums again, and that for me would be the greatest Christmas gift ever. But actually, for Woody to get better would be tops. Once he's better he'll take care of the drum thing all on his own. None of us would ever question that. Please keep praying and believing. That's what I'm doing, we all are. It's Christmas time, miracles can and do come true. I keep hope alive that Woody and I will soon go "fuck up" eggs together while watching "the footie". Deep in my heart there's a place that says I'll look back behind me during a gig and there will be a blue eyed drummer going a million miles a second with a tat of London Calling on his left breast, and that will be a day of true happiness, contentment, and love. Let your friends know how you feel about them. It'll help when the going gets tough. We all love Woody, he loves us, and we've all always let that be known amongst each other. (Eddy reminds me of he and Woody sharing a chick flick together during the long flight home from England earlier this year.) It's really helped lately. I thank God for that. I thank God for Jeff Wood, and I thank God for placing hope deep within. For the music lovers, those that we don't personally know but come out and support us and the music... we'll be back. Promise. Take care. Later, Butch
P.S. Happy happy holidays to you and yours.

2006-11-27T05:30:00.000-08:00

I started my birthday very early this morning. Woke up at 3 am. I did a radio show spot. I spent about an hour playing my music (both live and on CD), and discussing my songs and influences. As I sat there at 5 am with the headphones on, I thought to myself how lucky I am. I mean, believe me, not everything in my life is perfect or even close to where I'd want it to be, but to start my 42nd birthday surrounded by friends, those I'm close to and understand and accept me for who I am, to be there with my Gibson acoustic guitar and harmonica around my neck, sharing my music over the airwaves... yep, I'm a lucky man. This music, these sounds I hear in my head, it's all so much a part of who I am. To have the opportunity to share that, discuss it, enjoy it, and all on my birthday, well, it's a moment I'll never forget. What a great way to start my day. Thanks to my radio host, Ryan, for his time and discussion, thanks to my buddy Joe (J-Ride!!!) for hooking it up and being there with me, and a special thanks to Karen, for her understanding, time, and energy. She kept me focused and aware, as always, giving me purpose and clarity. Thanks for getting my 42nd off to such a wonderful start. By the way, you can hear a copy of the show. Just google WMNF Radio in Tampa, Florida (88.5 FM). Take care. Later, Butch

2006-11-16T05:44:00.000-08:00

When I was in first grade I would always wish that the water fountains at my school dished out Hawaiian Punch Red rather than water. I would day dream the day away imagining how wonderful that would be. Cool tasty Hawaiian Punch Red (also known to me as "nector of the gods") waiting in the pipes as I came in hot and thirsty from a wicked game of kickball. Once, as a teenager, I woke up with bad cottonmouth after a night of beers. I remembered through a headache that there was some cold Hawaiian Punch Red in the frig. Paydirt! I'll never forget how good that felt. I sometimes still catch myself thinking that as I approach a water fountain as an adult. And I still think it would be the cat's meow if "the Red" flowed from it's spicket. God bless the Hawaiians who make that great red fruity punch. Lord knows they've made a difference in my life. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-11-06T05:32:00.000-08:00

Numbers. They surround our lives. At every turn there's numbers. Yet, I'm not a numbers guy. After all, I've got a degree in English and was awful in math. Still, numbers loom everywhere. I've got 3 weeks, or 21 days, till 42. Actually, not much difference between 41 and 42. Fifty is still a ways off. But with 42 I realize: I beat Jesus by 9 years, Jim Morrison by 15. I've been out of high school for almost 25, college 20. Numbers. I hope the older one gets the less they really mean. And I really hope that once you get older older, they mean very little. I hope that the years passed, once you've reached silverdom, have actually been a wonderous thing as they have led you to some understanding, and eventually, happiness and contentment. I think they do, if only because of all the experiences lived throughout all those years. Yeah, that's how I'll deal with another birthday, with "numbers". We're like wine: we get better with age. (There's probably some 20-something reading this thinking, "damn, this guy's old". Just remember kid, you'll be here one day, though I know that's hard to believe right now.) Anyway, remember there's 24 hours each day, 60 minutes in each of those hours. Enjoy, they're only numbers. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-10-30T07:27:00.000-08:00

As I sip a cup of morning tea (one should never have an afternoon tea before noon at the risk of being labeled a "shhtupid" American, in terms of having your tea, of course), I can't but ponder the question the pagan holiday only one day away begs me to ask: Is the carved out pumpkin face known to us all as Jack O'Lantern any relation to the Irish outdoor chair and table (with matching sun umbrella) set? You know who I mean ... Patty O'Furniture! May your "tricks" be her "treats", and vice versa (add perverted giggle in at this time, thank you). Good luck. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-10-24T05:42:00.000-07:00

Just a quick update to the status of the new cd: drum tracks completed for 10 tracks, as are bass and rhythm guitar. Lead guitar finished for 6 tunes, as well as a few harmonica parts done. Still a ways to go. Acoustic guitar under everything (I learned that from the Stones), all vocals (both lead and harmony) still needed, as well as tamborines, shakers, B3, pedal steel, etc. All the "little" stuff. I'm also going to add 2 or 3 more tunes so Woody will have to come in to lay more drums down; Chris the bass parts. I'll also record an all acoustic tune or two, and remix an acoustic tune already finished. I'm thinking 14 or so tunes on this one, and why not? Who knows when I'll be back in here. I might as well get a lot done. I don't even have an idea yet for the title or "look" of the cd. I always let that just come to me during the recording. I trust something will surface, it always does. So, as you can see, I'm in the middle of it, with still a bit of road ahead to travel. I figure the "Video Diary" will be in three parts (the first one is up on the website). Once all the guitars are done, part 2 will be edited and posted. Part 3 will include everything else. Hope you're enjoying. Thanks for the read and the listen. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-10-16T08:10:00.000-07:00

It's not the money ('cause at this level it ain't much), it's not the fame ('cause at this level nobody knows who the hell you are), and sometimes it's not even the sheer pleasure of playing your music (though that is really really where it's at), it's the people you meet ('cause at this level playing the types of places that go hand in hand with the pay and the lack of fame, you meet all sorts). This past weekend I met the antichrist. Yep, that's what I thought too. He came in the form of a small, round, drunken (no way), blonde American Irish Texan named Mick. Who knew? He told me he was the antichrist but not to worry. Later that night when I saw him again at a Denny's I worried a little bit. He told me he was really a nice guy, never hurt no one (although he did once hold a gun to the head of the mom of a guy he knew had raped his sister... or something like that. Let's just say the story was a bit murky). He was born in New Orleans and has two birthmarks under his blonde hair (crew cut) that resemble horns. I refused to touch them (or even check to see if they were really there). I guess that's what makes him the devil... but he's a nice guy. He ended up partying with Tommy Lee at the Playboy Mansion one night and woke up with 15 playmates... not one or even two, 15!!! David Allen Coe wrote a country song about him. I got all that and a slurred more in 5 minutes. I guess when you're Beelzebub things like that go your way, yet why was he hitting on me? That was the consensus after I laughed and acted busy. He wanted to party party, hmmmm. Yep, the people you meet. Think Bowie or Jagger ever got hit on by a swinging bi-demon? Who needs the fame and money, I'm a friggin' rock star! Even the devil wants to party with me. Guess I'm up to par with Tommy Lee, David Allen Coe, and 15 Playboy Playmates. Who knew? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-10-09T09:07:00.000-07:00

Salvador Dali said "to look is to invent" (he said it in Spanish though). Anyway, I agree, but not only in an artistic way. You have to believe. You have to "look" at your hopes, your dreams, and then find realistic ways to "invent" or make them come true. But you have to "look", or believe, first. If you don't do that you're done from the start. Nothing worth while comes cheap or easy. It takes dedication and hard work, faith and gumption to stay the course. One must keep looking and therefore inventing. Nobody is going to give you anything, your cards will never fall right into place. You've got to make it happen, you and nobody else. The road is often long and rocky but if you keep on looking and inventing you'll see light at the end of the tunnel. You will invent your own future, your own happiness. At least that's what I think. Sure, it may not work out exactly as you hoped but in the end you'll at least be satisfied with the fact that you tried. And who knows, hope springs eternal. In the end you may die happy for looking and inventing, and living life as you dreamed. Thanks Sal. You were a genius. There's nothing surreal about wanting to be happy. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-10-03T08:14:00.000-07:00

When asking why, maybe the question should be why not. Maybe things need to be looked at from a different angle when answers don't come from asking the first question. Maybe most things DO have an answer it's just that we don't ask the right questions. Perspective, point of view, all of it is important. The need to have answers compels me to such thoughts. Maybe by asking something different or differently, new light will be shed. It's the only thing to do. Accepting there is no answer is unacceptable. One must always continue to seek answers, especially if the questions being asked (and not being answered) are huge. One must never give in for in giving in , a certain sure death will occur. Much will be lost, much more than what will be lost if you give in to never finding an answer. Hope must spring eternal, and in that hope is the possibility of finding a new question to an old problem, and better still, an answer! Keep on keepin' on. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-09-18T05:33:00.000-07:00

OK, now it's my turn to rant. When the Dixie Chicks said they weren't proud that W. was from their home state, conservatives went crazy. Now the Pope quotes a 14th century document (yes, 14th!!!) as a footnote to a very long speech concerning violence and religion (yes, I read the whole thing) and Muslim leaders the world over are upset. Churches in Asia and Africa are being set a blaze (though the ignorance doesn't stop there as they weren't even Catholic churches). Shut the *uck up! I've had it with PC, reverse PC, etc., etc. bullspit, things being twisted around (unpatriotic-you're with us or with the terriorist-you must be sensitive) and things being taken out of context to fit agendas. I can't take it any more. The cries that the Pope really didn't appologize but rather explained his statement sent me over the edge. No, he didn't appologize and he shouldn't. Grow a brain and really hear what he said and then ... shut the *uck up! The Dixie Chicks new album (not that I have it or have even heard it) is doing very very well. You don't like what they said? Fine. Don't support them and then ... shut the *uck up! Finally, who the hell am I to spew my thoughts on MY blog like this, you ask? It's been nice knowin' ya. Don't read my blog anymore and then ... shut the *uck up! I feel better. Thanks. Live and let live. Let people speak their minds. Stop belly achin' and ... shut the *uck up! Take care. Later, Butch

2006-09-13T08:57:00.000-07:00

Ode to my cousin Pat ("Little Pat") who passed away last week much much much too young: we'll all miss you. Pat was tending bar at his brother's (my cousin Rick's) bar, The Green Iguana, back in the day when I played there alot. My mind shifts back to a fond memory (one of many) of me climbing onto the bar crooning (I believe the band was playing AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long") like a redneck Danzig (thanks Scott Harrell). Two young ladies were really drunk and really getting into it. Soon they began to kiss. I talked them onto the top of the bar with me for all to see. Pat, behind the bar ,talked them into taking off their shirts. Beautiful. Rock and roll, baby! Steve (my other cousin and Pat's sensible older brother) laughingly made them get down and dress. It's a reputable place, things just kinda went kookie for a moment. Lots of beer and AC/DC covers will do that to ya. Plus, I know I wasn't any help. And Pat was just being Pat. Adios "cuz", mio cugino. I know I'll laugh with you again in a much better place. It's time now to begin to heal, to end the tears and let the fondness of sweet memory take hold and comfort. It's hard. Very hard, but what else is there to do? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-09-11T05:31:00.000-07:00

Staying positive and having faith that things can and will get better is what my focus is today as I find myself quite blue. September 11th is in of itself tough enough. So many unanswered questions, so much fear and confusion revisited. Then besides personal issues of adult life one must face and deal with, my family has been hit twice very recently with tragedy and death, the most recent coming this past weekend. Gloom seems to be everywhere, walking right by my side, following me. And yet I know I must stay focused on the positive, although lately that does seem hard to find. I must realize there is positive around me, have faith in the fact that things can and will get better. Rain storms pass and the sun comes out again. Even though I've been surrounded by a hurricane lately, it will move on, as life does, and I must think about the sunny days that WILL lie ahead. Hang in there, keep on keepin' on. After all, what else is there to do? Being a Cubs fan, hope springs eternal. For those so inclined, please keep my family in your prayers, for those who don't, your thoughts and positive energies are appreciated. I focus on my son's smile and laugh. Ah, life is a positive thing! He is so precious. The good outweigh the bad. We should all remember that. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-09-05T08:15:00.000-07:00

In baseball, a pitcher keeps a hitter off balance by throwing him a curveball every now and then. Unfortunately, so does life. Why? Is it to keep us focused? I was saddened to hear the news of the death of the "Croc Hunter", Steve Irwin. What a curveball, huh? The guy is 24/7 with crocs and cobras, etc., and then in an instant a very rare fatal blow from a stingray kills him. It makes no sense. He leaves behind two kids, a wife he seemed close to (afterall, they wrestled crocs together), and a passion that freakishly took his life. Does it make his death any easier to accept because he died doing what he loved (sort of, I mean, a stingray killing you is very very rare)? What if life's passions take our life in the process? Is that okay because we were living our life to its fullest? Derek Jeter takes a fastball to the head and dies, Bruce Springsteen is zapped to death while playing his guitar. Is that acceptable? Curveball, curveball, curveball. John Lennon said it best, "life is what happens while we're busy making plans." R.I.P. Steve Irwin. It seems you lived life your way, and in the end, can we really ask for more? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-08-28T05:31:00.000-07:00

Hurricane's a blowin'. Oh well, that's life in Florida. Hopefully it will miss everything and everyone and peter out in the Atlantic. Peter out Ernesto... no way a hispanic hurricane will peter out. No way... hopefully. Katrina showed us the other side of that coin. In other news... I finished the first installment of "Butch Ryan's Video Diary: The Making of a CD". I edited the footage last week. It shows how drum tracks are "put down". Hopefully someone will enjoy it. I'm waiting for it to go from vhs to dvd and then get "put up" on the website. Hopefully, very soon. (I'm so hopeful these days.) And finally, I was thinkin'. You ever notice how Irish songs sound just like pirate songs? Guess lots of the pirates were Irish. They all talk of women and drinking. Makes sense the Irish outlook would seem similar to "the pirates life for me" thing. I mean every song is about " a beautiful lass and a bottle of wiskey". "Oh, I feel for Fanny McFee/ The wiskey I'm drinkin' makes me pee." Can't you just 'ear it in yer 'ead? C'mon now, Jimmy, can't you 'ear it?
The "green glen" is replaced by "the blue ocean" and vice versa. Aye. Just random, hopeful thoughts. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-08-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

The first studio session felt great. I've worked there so many times before. It was like putting on an old favorite pair of jeans. It felt so right, so comfortable. I'm really pleased with the batch of songs, and that's the bottom line. The proof is always in the pudding. If I didn't believe in the material it wouldn't matter how good the studio felt, the overall experience would suffer greatly. Not the case here, thank God. And Woody was unbelievable. (Woody is my drummer and very good long time friend Jeff Wood.) He played like a banchee, 10 tunes down in 5 hours. His hands were actually bleeding. Seems a blister from the last gig popped. He never once bitched, just kept going, really trying to give me and the tunes his best. And he did. He's such a good guy and musician. A true pleasure to have around, another reason for the great experience that was last Friday night. I decided to have footage shot of the whole thing and maybe put out a video diary from time to time on the website showing what goes into the making of a CD (yeah, I shot the bloody hands). I'll keep you posted. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-08-15T04:41:00.000-07:00

Seems like old times yet different. I'm back to the studio this week to start a new CD for the first time in almost 3 years. I'll be back at the same studio with the same engineer I've worked with the past 3 CD's. This time though, I won't be totally solo as twice before or with a full band as twice before, but rather a combo of the two. It won't be just me or me and 3 others (is the number 3 my deal today or what? Can I play the lotto Pick One?). Anyway, I'll use all the guys I do live for various songs, plus a few others I think would do the parts well on particular songs. Will it work? Who knows. If not, I'll scratch the idea and either do it solo or pick 3 (there it is again) guys to play all the tunes. No biggie. Time to try something new. I should end up with six or seven total musicians playing on this CD. It's going to be interesting to me to see if Butch Ryan songs sound like Butch Ryan songs regardless of who is playing the music behind the lyrics. If not, not. No biggie, no pressure. Just let the music play. Let see what happens. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-08-07T06:43:00.000-07:00

I've taken on many "different" projects over the years: playing an obscure U2 song at the alter during a Methodist/Japanese wedding (bridal party in white face and kimonos), jingle for a sports store, Santa Claus, intro music for a radio show, a Christmas CD, etc., etc. I've written music for someone else's lyrics ("Mona Lisa Marie"), lyrics for someone else's music. My thinking has always been that the challenge of giving the person hiring me what they want would make me a stronger performer and writer. The most recent was very interesting: a dark comedic acoustic tune for an independent film. The character in the song is a "nice" guy who kills people. He's a serial killer who wants his victims to hang on until he's ready to kill them. He wants them to be good sports. Sick stuff but a challenge. Also, funny in a dark way. I was given the title and told to roll. "Don't Die On Me" wrote itself. It came to me so quickly. Five to ten minutes tops. I find myself drawing on my days as an English major in college more and more. I realize now I was given the use of many tools to work with. All those sleepy days of lectures, sleepless nights of writing, and years of making sense of it all have come in handy. Who would've thunk it. Stay in school kids. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-08-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone! I know it's been quite a long time. I'm slowly getting back to being a busy musician again... slowly. Gigs are pilling up, and I'm actually starting to work in the recording studio on a new CD later this month. I've also written (and will record this week) an acoustic song for a short independent film out of NYU. It's being filmed here in Tampa. I've got a bit part as well. And even cooler than actually being in the film (bit part plus music video for the acoustic tune under the closing credits), "Worn" from WISHING ON THE STARS might be the song for the opening of the film. I'll keep you posted. As for this blog, an old friend stopped by a recent show and said he missed the blog. I was like, "it got to be too much, the daily thing." He gave me a great suggestion: it doesn't have to be every week day. Maybe once a week. That sounded good and approachable. I know I've probably lost many many readers since I've been off for sooooooo long but today's a start. I'll go at least once a week, if I've got somethin' to say then twice or more. Till then, thanks for reading, and I hope those of you who still check the blog after all this time will find the upcoming blogs interesting and worth the ride. Thanks for stickin' with me. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-06-26T04:36:00.000-07:00

Still here, just hangin' out. Playing out every so often but keeping low. Not much else to report. Dealing with burn out is a tricky thing. One must not push it so I'm not pushing it. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-25T05:39:00.000-07:00

I know it's been 2 weeks since I last blogged. Not much to say. Recharging the batteries. Just wanted to let you know I'm still alive. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-12T04:10:00.000-07:00

Sorry there was no blog yesterday. When I started writing this 10 months ago my goal was to blog everyday. That was tough, not only in finding what to write about, but in finding time to put my thoughts together and then actually writing them down. I decided I would go to a Monday through Friday schedule. At first it went fine. Then as the year ended and my band life became frazzled then focused and hectic, it became tougher time-wise, thought-wise, and even emotionally to put out the kind of consistant blog I feel is worthy of asking people to take time out of their busy day to read. When I use the word emotion I mean my goal is to really communicate a feeling within the blog. It's like writing a song. If you're going to ask folks to read or listen, it better be the best that you can do. It's got to feel, and feel right and real. Now I know that I don't always hit a home run, but my goal is to really share something worthwhile, whether it's serious, thought provoking, funny, informative, etc., etc. If I can shed some light into what it's like to be doing what I do, then my goal has been reached. Anyhow, what all this means is that I will blog when I feel I have something to offer. I will no longer keep an exact schedule. I won't blog just to blog. Besides the band life, my personal life is complex, busy, and as tricky as anyone else's. To those who read frequently, thank you, and don't worry. Anyone who knows me knows I've always got something to say. I appreciate the support. Keep checking the site daily. You never know what's going to happen in Butch World. God knows I don't. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-10T05:45:00.000-07:00

Silence is golden. Isn't that what they say before a movie at the theatre? I guess it is there. And when you're having a hectic day, or you have a headache. But sometimes, when you need escape from the everyday, when you need relief from the thoughts that trouble you, the thoughts you just can't seem to get out of your head, then silence is not golden. It is an abyss, a vacuum, a void that offers no refuge. I think that's why you feel good after you talk to someone, or you do something outside. Is it so much the sunshine or rather the fact that you're stimulating your brain, taking it away from "thinking" for awhile. Excersize, endorphines, etc., etc. I also think that music can play a big part in all this. It, too, can take you away, help you cope with not only your problems, but the day to day monotony our lives at times become. Springsteen's "Born to Run" cranked up to high volume can really help the morning drive to work, you know what I mean? So where does this blog end up? Hey, silence isn't always golden. Sometimes you need an electric guitar. Did I mention I play an electric guitar? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-09T05:04:00.000-07:00

The presentation. The build up. The hype. That's show biz. I thought about all of this last night as I watched magician/illusionist/dare devil David Blaine try to hold his breath for nine minutes under water after being in water for a week. Huh? Where does a magic "trick" mix with trying to mess with death? It doesn't BUT it works for DB due to the presentaton, the build up, the hype. It's show biz, entertainment. There was a quote from Houdini on there that said it best: "I don't care what they write about me as long as they spell my name right." Show biz, baby, entertainment. By the way, DB didn't make it. I mean, the record. Don't worry, he's alive and breathing, finally. He held his breath for ONLY 7:05. Wimp! Seriously, nobody cared that he didn't make it. Why? C'mon, you know by now, the presentation, the build up, the hype. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-08T05:02:00.000-07:00

Question. In the song, "I've Been Everywhere", which has gained fame from those Motel 6 commercials, is your town named? It was a cover Johnny Cash recorded once Rick Rubin signed him to his label and told him he could record whatever he wanted. Kudos to Rubin, by the way, for giving a legend his due. Anyway, eventhough he didn't write it, does the man in black mention your town? He does mine. Yep, says Tampa. How 'bout that. That and fifty cents will get you a can of Pepsi from a machine. Speaking of Pepsi, happy birthday Coca-Cola. Coke was invented on this day in 1886 by a pharm in the A-T-L. How 'bout that. Wow, what a killer blog, huh? Hey, even a juiced up Barry Bonds can't hit a home run every at bat. Have a heart, gimme some slack. Summer is almost here. My mind is a wonderin'. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-05T05:06:00.000-07:00

Keith Richards, 63, was released from a hospital in Fiji this week after suffering a concusion. Seems he fell out of a tree and hit his head. What? Did I mention he's 63? I discussed this with my literary friend C. Baxter Carter (those who live in North Tampa will know him as editor of The Link magazine). Maybe it's all the drug use from the past, maybe he's nuts, or maybe it's just a killer attitude, a rock and roll youthful 'tude that had The Rolling Stones guitarists in a tree (maybe he was in the mood for a coconut), either way, wow! To be climbing trees at 63 (although, I know, he fell out) says something about your outlook on things... forever young. Or he's as nutty as a squirel turd. I don't know, I just think if you think young, you stay young. And at 63, he's still rockin' and rollin'. Good for Keith. Sorry about the headache. Spit happens. Have a nice weekend. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-04T04:42:00.000-07:00

Tom Petty, the guy whose songs and lyrics have always made so much sense to me, once penned, "I don't think pain is so romantic." Man, is that true. Personal issues of adult life (which I won't go into detail with here) can leave you emotionally worn beyond all recognition. I can't blog today. Sorry. My brain and gut need a rest, they're both wrenched. I need to chill and then focus, but not today. I can't. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

The medley can be both a friend or foe. Let me explain. If you've waited to see a band since 1978 and then they just do medleys of all your favorite tunes, that would be a bummer. The veggie medley at participating restaurants is cool, as is doing a medley to kill time when you play Gate B at Tampa Bay Buccaneers games so you can make money to play your own tunes in the UK. (Sorry for the run on, it's autobiographical.) THE Jeff Wood, drummer man, came up with a cool medley idea to kill time: The Kinks. Tonight we'll run thru "All Day and All of the Night", which falls into "You Really Got Me", which leads to "Destroyer" (which is very similar to "All Day"). As medleys go, this one sounds cool. I've always dug The Kinks. Very R-N-R. I hope it works out. As I've gone over it by myself, it seems to work, but you never know. Even if it works at rehearsal, sometimes it still goes over like a turd in a punchbowl in front of a live audience, so you cast it aside. We'll see. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-02T05:01:00.000-07:00

What a bummer this morning. As I awoke, I clearly thought it was Saturday. I mean, I was sure of it. Then reality struck. Qua-quaa-quaaa-quaaaa...! Damn. I realized it was only flippin' Tuesday. What a cruel joke to play on myself. I don't remember dreaming but I guess my dream told me it was the weekend. Sweet dreams are made of that: weekends not workdays. But, for some unknown reason, I was quite mature. I got up and accepted it. Why fight it? I can't change the day of the week. Acceptance was the best solution, infact, as the morning went on I forgot my cruel joke. Change what you can, accept what you can't. I guess that could hold true for many things. Make the best out of each situation. If you're given lemons, be realistic. You ain't making OJ. Make lemonade, and accept it. At least some classic rock station is playing Tuesday twofers. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-05-01T05:01:00.000-07:00

Mundane. Yep, raised the lawn mower wheels up a few notches. Mowed this weekend. Makes the lawn look like a carpet. Neighbor gave me the tip. It does make a difference. Looks good. Mundane. Sometimes, when life is hectic and wacky, it's a good thing. Helps to ease the mind. Other times, when you're bored, it adds to the restlessness. A thin line for sure, a delicate balance. I get anxious when not much is happening, I get anxious when I'm overloaded. Finding the in-between is magic. It happens but while it's happening you tend to take it for granted. I need to get comfortable dealing with the mundane, allow myself to relax, just as I've learned that when things are hectic, it's best to focus on the task at hand. The realization that the task can and will be completed gets me through. It's just a constant learning process. Learning how to deal, figuring yourself out so you can reach contentment. As Aerosmith sang, "Life's a journey, not a destination." It just helps when you know how to enjoy the ride. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-28T04:41:00.000-07:00

Oh feline, how we adore thee! In ancient Egypt, the cat was worshipped. I've been thinking this still holds true today (except in Chinesse restaurants). Mascots abound. We've got tigers, lions, panthers, cougars, jaguars, thundercats (whatever the hell that is), wildcats, ice cats (?), etc., etc. Even in Oz, it was 2 out of 3 (LIONS and TIGERS and bears, oh my). It's crazy. Even KISS had a cat! Peter Criss was el gato hombre. Cats everywhere. Every boy, every man is in search of the woman's nether region, also named after feline. It goes on and on and on and on. Cats, baby, cats. What does this all mean? Who knows, who cares! It's Friday, the weekend is here, I don't have to shave for 2 days. That's what it means. Have a good one... you crazy cats. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-27T04:54:00.000-07:00

"I'm Mike Jones, I'm Mike Jones" (I'm Butch Ryan, I'm Butch Ryan). First of all, how in the hell can that be song lyrics? Number two, and it becomes a hit? Falls into the "what the..." catagory for me. I guess some artists' lyrics will be forgiven just because of the artist (or genre). I've always thought to myself that if I walked into a rehearsal and told the band, "here are the chords", and then they asked for the lyrics and I said, "oh, I'm just gonna sing dee-do-do-do, dee-da-da-da" or "uh-uh-uh, uh-uh-uh-uh-uh", that I would be: A.) mocked and ridiculed, B.) beat about the head and neck with a glass bottle, C.) made to walk the plank (your basic "mutiny"), D.) told I suck. Lyrics. Lyyyyyrics. Lyricsssss. Damn. Not always an easy thing. I need to work on me lyrics. Don't want to get A,B,C, or D, do I? I'm sure I'll get by. I know when they need work, I know when they're right on. Degree in English from the University of South Florida, ya know (GO BULLS). Still, how would I ever know "dee-do-do-do, dee-da-da-da" could be a huge hit? Guess you gotta go with your gut, and to hell with everything else. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-26T04:41:00.000-07:00

Will it ever rain again in Tampa, Florida? Why is it we either get a hurricane or dry ass weather? Is it due to the ozone layer (whatever that is, I never really paid attention in Science class. Not my bag)? And don't get me started on gas prices! Don't worry. I am NOT a grumpy old man (though I know it sounds like that). Today is just one of those days where I'd rather be somewhere else. I didn't shave, am wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and no socks. I really really really really want to slum it today, be a bum. But that's not my reality this morning. Oh well, this too shall pass. I'm not tired, just bored. Rain could break up the monotony. Why? Who knows. Maybe 'cause I'm a few cards short of a deck, not wearing socks, needing a shave. Summer, please come rescue me... TODAY!!! Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-25T04:25:00.000-07:00

I was ten years old and playing pee wee football. The coach, in my memory, was about thirty-something. We had a huge game coming up. In order to get the defense ready for this super fast kid we were playing on Saturday, the coach assumed the fast kid's position at quarterback. We ran down the adult coach all week preparing for the big game. And then on Friday it happened. It started out innocently enough. The coach ran a few plays at quarterback. He felt we weren't getting to the fast kid fast enough. He urged us to do so. As the next play unfolded, we crushed the coach as he ran a sweep. As we, a host of ten year old boys, unpiled, we noticed the coach's shirt had been pulled up, his shorts a little down. And there it was... the coach was wearing a pair of silky lacy pink underware. I remember thinking they reminded me of my mom's. WHAT THE ...? Look, I got no problem with some dude wanting to wear panties. I free ball. To each his own. But getting kids to tackle you while you're wearing women's underware? I don't know about that one, dude. Whatever. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-24T05:44:00.001-07:00

Today I've got the Mob, the Syndicate, you know, Murder Inc., on the brain. Besides watching a little baseball in the afternoon yesterday (Cubs won:), D Rays lost:(, oh, well), I couched it with AMC's Godfather Marathon. Hours upon hours of the Corleone family. My brother and I played a little soccer in the am, and even though I felt good with the workout (and that I knocked 2 in), my body felt like Carlo's did after Sonny beat him on the streets of some Brooklyn neighborhood like a red headed step child (with reason, of course, eventhough Sonny was a hot head). Yep, I feel like I'm ready to "sleep with the fishes". I will say though, I'd rather have physical pain than mental anguish. Especially on a Monday (less than 5 weeks till Summer vacation. Yes!). When Michael gave Fredo the kiss of death for breaking his heart, who was really in more pain? I thought it was a mistake all along to send Fredo to Vegas to work for Moe Green at the Tropicana. But hey, that's only my opinion. Wouldn't want to upset anybody, you know what I mean? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-21T05:54:00.000-07:00

So Ace got kicked off American Idol. First of all, who cares? The only Ace ever worth mentioning is Mr. Frehley, lead guitarist (back in the good ol'days) for KISS. American Idol is CRAP. It's a popularity contest. This Ace (and Bo, and Clay, etc., etc.) are NOT rock and roll, not even close. American Idol is a TV show, nothing more. I'm tired of the ignorance that surrounds the "music" industry. The Beatles would not have been on American Idol. Vanilla Ice would have. Get the picture? My final rant on this shite: (and I quote The Jam, who, by the way, would NOT have been on American Idol), "The public wants what the public gets, but I don't get what society wants. I'm goin' underground." Amen. I, too, am going underground. To hell with Kelly Clarkson. Have a great weekend. Sorry Ace. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-20T04:47:00.000-07:00

On this date 36 years ago, The Beatles released "Let It Be", and then proceeded to let it happen: McCartney announced the band was finished, breaking up. Fans around the globe found it hard to accept. Reality finally kicked in in early December of 1980 when a madman shot and killed John Lennon. Until then, hope sprang eternal. SNL even had an ongoing joke of offering the band the small union wage given to all bands who play the show, in the hopes that they would actually reunite. After Lennon's death a few new unreleased songs came out. Again fans dreamed. Sure, it wouldn't be the same but hey, three is better than none. Then a few years ago, George Harrison passed away after a battle with cancer. With him went the last glimpse of hope. And now, 36 years later, the news still reminds us. I guess the point is you can never go back. Be happy with the memories but move on. Don't ruin the memory and the present by constantly yearning for what's gone. Build something new and seek joy and comfort in that. Make new memories. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-19T04:43:00.000-07:00

Some time around the turn of the century (sounds so dramatic, doesn't it?), I was playing a gig in a little town called Clermont, in Central Florida. There was a gypsy/hippie looking chick sending Crown Royal shots up to the stage. Very nice, the shots, that is. As I got off the stage, she walked towards me. I smiled and introduced myself while extending a hand. She grabbed my hand tightly and said, "I'm Honeylove", and refused to let go. "I'm a witch", she said, "and I'm getting a vibe from your hand." Well how about that! "You guys are good. Things look good in your future." Well thanks, Honeylove, I thought to myself! Who knew? You meet all kinds when most of your days are spent in bars and clubs. This was the same joint where I once met a guy named Lobo, who, among other things, told me he was friends with LL Cool J and his nickname was "Cali", hence the song, "I'm Goin' Back to Cali". Did that mean they had a Brokeback thing going? Then he tried to sell me napalm. Like I said, you meet all kinds. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-18T04:57:00.000-07:00

Two reasons why even though it's not June 21st I know Summer is here in Florida: #1- I'm driving around at 6:45 am with the convertible top down and in no way is it cold. Now I will say that once June hits it won't be as comfortable as it is now. It will be muggy and sticky at 7 am, but for now it's really nice in the am, driving around, wind in my hair. #2- I've got baseball on the brain. I'm going to bed checking West Coast scores, waking up and checking West Coast finals. (Maddox and the Cubbies beat L.A. 4-1 last night!) Yep, that's my Summer time ritual. Been doing that since high school. And it's gotten so bad that last night and early early this morning I kept going over my all time Hall of Fame starting 8 versus Jim Rome. In the dream, I kept telling Romie I was shocked he didn't have Joe D. in his outfield. We never got around to pitching 'cause the alarm went off. Yes, Summer is here for the Butcher... and it feels great. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-13T04:54:00.000-07:00

Songwriting, for me, is a very personal thing. I never try to write a song. The songs just show up unannounced. When I least expect it, an idea will start formulating in my brain. It might be a theme, a drum part, a guitar riff, a melody, etc. If it starts to really continue to bug me, I know I'm on the verge of receiving a song. Last month I was in London. It was my last day of the trip. No gigs, a Sunday. My manager suggested we take a subway trip down to Camdentown, a bohemic area of the city. Something started to click. As we walked to the Underground station, it kept bugging me. We waited in line to buy tickets. I started humming a melody in my mind. Lyrics came from everywhere. As we got on the train, I had the first verse and the chorus. Needless to say, I was not a good conversational partner on the ride down. I was deep in thought. By the time we reached Camdentown, all I was missing was the middle 8. We went to a pub to get lunch. I asked her for paper and a pen. She went to the bathroom. I was done by the time she got back. Later that day, once I got back to my room at the hotel and pulled out my acoustic guitar, I found the chords behind the melody I'd been humming non stop thru Camdentown, lunch, the grocery store (had to bring back crisps and confectionaries to Tampa), the train ride back, and the walk to the hotel. It was all there. Hadn't existed that morning at 11, but was worn and memorized by 3. It's weird. Sometimes it's a pain if it "shows up" at 11:30 pm on a Wednesday, just as you're going to bed after a long day, but in the end, it's very rewarding. Sometimes you think it coming but you're left with shite after an hour. That sucks 'cause you thought you had something. The fish that got away. But I can't complain. When it does work itself out (like in London), it's way cool. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-12T04:59:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday David Letterman! The gapped toothed Indiana weatherman turned L.A. stand up turned late night TV host became an American icon to my generation, and influenced the "shtick" that is the live Butch Ryan show more than anyone else. That's right B.B., Dave is the one to blame. The idea that if the punchline doesn't get a laugh you just keep repeating it till they're laughing at you, is all pure Letterman, and in my opinion, pure genius ("I had to bend it like Beckham! Jokes, I tell them!"). Thank you David Letterman for giving me the "oump" of the "not fearing what you say on stage as long as you're personable, they'll come around and like you" attitude I arm myself with every time I go on, and happiest of happy birthday's. Screw Leno, he never even came close to you. You, Dave, are late night king. I salute you. There will never be another David Letterman. In a word, you are THE MAN (El Hombre for those currently marching... El Hombre... El Hombre! Jokes, I tell them.) Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-11T04:55:00.000-07:00

Today I'm doing nothing but thinking about baseball. I'm going to the D Rays game tonight. They're giving out these replica cheap retro square shaped Buddy Holly glasses that the Rays manager Joe Maddon wears. I'm gonna sit there looking goofy and talk baseball with my boy while eating a hot dog (that's what I'm talkin' 'bout). I will lose myself in everything that is "taking in a game", and leave the world behind for a few hours. I've decided to start early and not dwell on too much "adult" stuff today. I recommend this to all. It's good for the soul. Even though I'm not really playing hooky, it makes me feel like I sorta am, and that's a good thing. Try it, you'll like it, I promise. It's not being irresponsible, it's just being good to yourself. All work and no play makes Johnny a bastard to deal with. Let Johnny play every so often. It does wonders. Go Rays! Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-10T05:29:00.000-07:00

BIG ED & THE TWINS. THE Jeff Wood, drummer man, introduced Big Ed and the twins to me when we first started rehersals for the UK back in January. We were going over the song "None of the Above". Woody smiled and said, "I know what this song needs!", and before I knew what happened, Big Ed and the twins had stolen my heart. It put the song right where it should be; cracked the whip and put'em in line. Big Ed is a big silver metal shaker. It's about 6 inches long with quite a bit of girth. The twins are 2 black egg shaped shakers that have been glued side by side underneath and to the back side of Big Ed (gettin' a picture yet?). Woody grabs Big Ed by the shaft and really works his wrist to the rhythm of the music... it's a beautiful thing! Use your imagination. Bid Ed and the twins are everything you could ever hope for in percusion. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-07T05:04:00.000-07:00

Early this morning I heard an old Foreigner song. It brought back memories of my high school years. By that time the baseball possibility had become realistic. Although I was an excellent fielder, my arm was suspect, I wasn't that fast a runner, and I was an average hitter with little power. I was a 1.5 tool player. I took up the guitar and the soccer ball instead. My brother and I, along with another Cuban American friend of ours had a little 3 man soc/hoc team that ruled the neighborhood. We played soccer on the tennis courts of the area. We used to play some other guys who were white. Great 3 on 3 matches! It was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (us) versus Foreigner (them). It was "Refugee" vs. "Dirty White Boy". We had a blast. Oh, that tune this morning took me back. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-06T04:50:00.000-07:00

Bad bad bad bad bad bad dream last night. The kind of dream that makes you feel really really happy once you wake up, realize it's a dream, and turn the pillow over to the cool side to continue your slumber. We were on some sort of tour somewhere, far from home. A good crowd had gathered as we were getting the gear out of the van. I was feeling good. I told Chris I could get the last monitor on my own. It slipped from my hand and fell on top of my Gibson acoustic guitar (which was in a soft case, which is bullshit 'cause I always keep it in a hard case 'cause it's my baaaby). Snap. I heard it go snap. Through the bs soft case I could see a clean break at the neck. I tried not to freak. I pulled it out in two pieces. The guys couldn't believe it. I yelled for Karen, our manager. What the hell am I gonna do now? Karen!!! Then I woke up. Upon realizing it was all just a horrible dream, I felt that sick feeling leave my stomach, and I then turned the pillow over to the cool side and continued my sleep. Best of all, I didn't go back to that dream. I found myself somewhere else. Somethin' 'bout cafeterria food...? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-05T05:24:00.000-07:00

Baseball is back! There's a lot of good rock and roll baseball songs out there. John Fogerty's "Center Field", Springsteen's "Glory Days", and Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" all pay homage. Fogerty's is all baseball as metaphor ("Put me in Coach, I'm ready to play today"), Springsteen's just has the opener baseball reference ("I had a friend who was a big baseball player back in high school"), and Billy Joel makes 5 baseball references (sorry NFL fans): Joe Dimaggio, Roy Campanella, Brooklyn Dodgers, Mickey Mantle, and California baseball. I guess his upbringing was surrounded by baseball. A lot of New Yorkers his age were. The city had 3 teams at one time (Yankees, Dodgers, Giants) before the move to California in the late 50's. As big a fan as I am, I don't have any baseball references. Hmmm, something to work on. It just has to fit though. Best not to force anything or else it'll sound forced. I did mention the Cubs on the Christmas CD ("The List"), but I can't say that really counts, at least not for me. I'll wait and see if the muses have something "baseball" to offer, otherwise I'll keep waiting till they do. Maybe if the Cubbies finally win it all ... ? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-04T04:53:00.000-07:00

Well, the time change and the jet lag has finally caught up with me in a big way. Either that or I'm about to get really sick 'cause I feel run down, runded down, flat out wiped out, etc., etc., etc. Granted, after the 12 day UK stay, I just did the weekend on the space coast, so it's been crazy hours and being transported, it seems, 24-7. Diner food will eventually catch up with you. Hats off to my manager, Karen, who's been on the same time warp and not complained a bit (she's been energized by her blog fans!), and to the band for hangin' in there. The rest of this month, and probably the next, will bring a little respite... BUT then we gotta get back to it, work the monkey, let the music be heard. Today, though, leisurely sleep rather than required rest would be fantastic. Of course, I say this as we stare down a double header on Saturday. Doing some charity work very early in the AM, then go home and rest a bit, followed by an evening gig, so go figure? Sunday will find me seeking required rest rather than leisurely sleep again. Same old same old. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-04-03T05:01:00.000-07:00

Beach towns, are they all sleazy? Must all boardwalks have members of "The Pirates of the Caribean" club hanging out? Why do such apparent forms of low life gather near the coastline? Questions, questions, questions. Yesterday I found myself in Daytona Beach killing time for a radio show. As I walked around the boardwalk I thought about the beautiful Asbury Park, New Jersey, home of THE BOSS, Mr. Bruce Springsteen. The place is hurtin', and I mean real bad (that's bad meaning bad not bad meaning good, brother). Daytona's right there with it. Sure, Daytona's got a nice Hilton, but both boardwalks are awful, and Jersey's got Bruce, so I figure Bruce and The Hilton cancel each other out. Final tally... two holes. But it's so romantic! Yeah, right. Tatooed women with barefoot children eating cotton candy (the tatted up women, I mean) ain't romantic. It's depressing. And the word dirty doesn't hold enough fever to do these places justice. Sorry to those folks who call these pits home, I mean no ill will. I'm just reporting what I see, throwing in tons of opinions, filling up blog space. I hope you understand. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-31T05:30:00.000-08:00

So as I dive in with stories from the UK trip, today I'd like to discuss my favorite "musician" experience. Now, granted, the whole trip was musical in nature, but some of the memories are more about the audiences, crowd responses, equipment issues, adventures with the guys off stage, tea and biscuts, etc. Today is about the sheer "cool musician vibe" experience. We did a show in a Nothern town called Bolton. We played it last trip as well. This time we played at a place called The Gypsy's Tent. A local soul group, Checkmate, played the bill too. Great guys, cool band. At the end of our set, I invited them up for a big jam. We covered The Stones "Sympathy For The Devil". The coolest part was that we had a trumpet player throughout. Cole is a very nice guy and a hell of a musician. Great soul singer too. Anyway, the solo sounded like John Mellencamp's "Love and Happiness". It was bad (that's bad meaning good not bad meaning bad, brother). It was just such a cool vibe. It's those moments when I'm really glad I'm not just a singer but that I play an instrument. That give and take among the musicians just winging it is awsome. You're just playing off each other, hangin' on for dear life. Yeah, it was cool. The trumpet really makes it stand out in my mind. When you're in a rock and roll band, you don't taste too much trumpet. I love playing Paul Shafer during those big jams, calling out to whoever is going to step out next. It's very "musician", very basic to what I've been doing since I was 15, sitting there at the foot of my bed learning chords. With all the planes and photos and this and that and an interview here and there, it's good to come back home sometimes. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-30T05:31:00.000-08:00

I woke up today kinda blue. You know those days when you wish you were 10 again? That was my morning. I wanted to tell my son to forget school, and then we could go to the park and kick around the new rugby ball I brought home. Afterwards, I'd have lunch with my parents. Yep, I planned it all out in the shower as I let the hot water hit and massage my brain. To be 10 again, with not a care in the world, ah, but that was the key to my morning. As it progressed I realized compared to many others, I don't have a care in the world. Maybe not today, but this weekend I CAN kick the rugby ball with my son, and I CAN call my folks and get together soon. And so I realized I shouldn't be so blue. I'm just overwhelmed sometimes at the hectic pace I choose to live. But I also realized that in that hectic pace there are many things I really love to do. It's my choosing, everything comes with a price. I just need to make time to get all those little things in (rugby, golf, watching baseball with my dad, conversations with mom, etc.). And so, rather than feeling blue, my morning became being thankful for what I do have, and realizing it's all attitude and keeping things in perspective. It's all good, no time to feel down. Summer is right around the corner. Ten will be possible for a few moments come June. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-29T05:29:00.000-08:00

So she was really really drunk. She found her way backstage at Fords Club in Widnes, UK. She had a copy of my "Unknown" CD in her hand. She wanted autographs... from anybody. Me, the band, the soundcrew, guys moving PA equipment, the club's DJ, anybody. Then she asks where will we be playing the following evening. I hear someone say, "The Gypsy's Tent, in Bolton." She then turns to me, looks me in the eye, and begins to babble about how careful I should be with "me" guitars and such, 'cause those gypsies will "rob you blind!" Wow, that's a lot of alcohol consumption. I know we're not big time, but did she really actually think I was playing in a tent for nomads? I just smiled and said I'd be careful. Why bother? Let her ride her buzz. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-28T07:02:00.000-08:00

I'm back. Got in late last night. So much to tell but not today. When you've been out of the country for nearly two weeks, things back home tend to pile up. I'm a busy bee this morning trying to sort and settle. Be assured I have much to tell in the next few days. All went very well. I'll fill you in soon. Promise. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-16T04:13:00.000-08:00

And so this is the last blog until March 28th. I won't sleep in my own bed for the next 11 nights. While you're driving to happy hour tomorrow afternoon, I'll be playing my set in Liverpool at The Cavern Club. The UK is five hours forward from Tampa time. I can't say I really get jetlag because of the crazy hours I usually keep anyway. I just hope I can sleep on the flight today. Well, not much else to say. The blogs the past 3 months have all led up to today. I'm ready. Talk to you soon. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-15T05:12:00.000-08:00

Today's flavor is that of clerk. It's one that I hate. Filling out forms isn't my cup of tea (with milk!), however it has to be done. Copyrights protect you and your music. It's like insurance. You're always thinking you won't need to cash it in, but if something happens and you haven't done it, you'll feel like a fhuge dumbass. ASCAP (American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers) monitors commercial broadcasts. If your stuff is played, they'll collect payment for you. My membership is under the name Ryno's Paw Music. You might've seen that on my CD's. It's like having your own little publishing company. There are forms, forms, and a few more forms for ASCAP, more than for the copyrighting. It's all great fun. And so that's where the rock and roll has me today. Tomorrow it's off to the UK and a gig at The Cavern, today it's clerk boy. Tomorrow it's pills to pass out and not experience the pleasure of an eight hour flight, today it's visiting the post office and wishing I had pills to help me deal with the long lines I always encounter. It's all so very rock and roll. "Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose"(Neil Young, "String Man"). Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-14T04:37:00.000-08:00

I had about two and a half hours sleep but that's ok. I got stuff done, which is a good thing. Took care of the personal (paid bills, filed taxes, etc.) and the band (changed strings, packed my gear, got the master for the comp CD). By the time I get back, March will be just about over. Now that's not a bad thing, it means baseball season is ready to get going. I'm just mentioning it because I have this panic about me. I don't want to forget something and then come back to a headache. I've got lists all over the place. Other than that, all is great. Got a new pair of Chucks for the road trip. Guess it's not really a road trip, is it? Nothing like a new pair of Chucks. That's a feeling I'll never out grow. Well, not much else. Nothing too interesting here. Tomorrow will probably be even weaker, but that would be a good thing. A few days of simple nothing would be nice. The next two weeks will be filled with planes and trains, and me saying, "excuse me?" like a dumbass because I can't pick up on accents (are they really speaking English?). Yeah, a few days of nada would be nice. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-13T05:06:00.000-08:00

And so begins the final few hectic days before leaving the country for almost 2 weeks. There's so much to get in place, both personal and with the band. You want to make sure you haven't forgotten to do something so that when you get back you don't have a big headache on your hands. Then, as far as the band is concerned, you've got to make sure everything is still moving forward once you get back. Reality tells you once the plane, train, and wrong side of the road adventures in the UK are done, you still have gigs to come back to. Hell, Chicago for the Summer is starting to be looked at. The machine must continue to keep rollin' on. A compilation CD to be released, along with planned road trips, keep the "offices" busy busy busy. The thing is, you're never ever "done". Never. You always must be planning the next move. This was a big one though. On January 1st, I had no band and a little UK tour set up. The work was double time. If everything is moving along smoothly, you don't usually have such a time of it. I'm glad this part is finally over. The last rehersal was last night. We're ready. Anticipation is starting to give way to being focused. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-10T05:02:00.000-08:00

The candy colored clown they call the sandman. Yes, that's who I'd like to meet. I'm tired today. Gig last night. Sleep would be nice. That's where the clown comes in. I think that's the sandman, sleep. Why? I do not know. I mean, sandman for sleep? Have you ever slept on sheets that were covered with sand? Very uncomfortable. When I was a kid growing up in the sunshine state of Florida, vacations to the beach were as common as the rain in the UK. After two days or so, if you didn't clean your sheets, you could feel the sand from your feet all over the sheets as you tried to sleep. It was awful, much like this blog entry, much like my brain today due to lack of sleep. And so it comes full circle, the circle of life. Adios for now. We'll talk on Monday. By then I'll be rested and frantic. So many little things to sort out before leaving for the UK on Thursday. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-09T04:53:00.000-08:00

While I hope all who read my blog enjoy it, today I'm writing directly to one person. A few blogs back I described England as a wet and cold land. I was generalizing, true, but I meant no harm. The two times I've been there it's been wet and cold so therefore, in my mind, it's a wet and cold place. I wasn't bashing it for being wet and cold, simply describing it as I've seen it. I know it can be sunny, and even in the cold wet, it's a beautiful country that I really do like. I enjoy it's traditions and people, honestly. I'm even starting to get their whole "tea" madness thing. Anyway, I just checked the weather forecast for when we get there: high's in the mid 40's, lows in the upper 30's. That means "cold" to a Florida boy. Rain showers EVERY day. That means "wet" to everyone, even the fish. What can I say? BB, I love your homeland, I really do, but it's cold and wet there. No biggie. I will drink hot tea (with milk!!!!!), have a pint or two, wear my Cubs cap in the rain so that everyone knows I'm an idiot Yank (at least I won't wear the wrong soccer team, uh, I mean football, stuff in the wrong town and get my American baseball ass kicked), and enjoy the wonder that is the UK. It's awesome. I just wanted to explain why to me it's a wet and cold land. Wet and cold weatherwise, but very warm emotionally. Thank you. I can't wait to get there. Hello England. This is Butch, you know, Butch Ryan, your adopted son (as I stated at the St. Helens gig a year ago). I just called to say I love you. And P.S., Liverpool is the best of the best. I'm Butch Ryan from the U-S-A, and you must be the U-K!!!! (A stolen greeting from Spinal Tap, custom fitted for Butchie.) Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-08T05:19:00.000-08:00

One week to go. Next Thursday we fly out of Orlando to Manchester, touchdown at 7:30 am local time, drive to nearby Liverpool, check in to the hotel, and before you know it, find ourselves doing a sound check at The Cavern Club, legendary home of The Beatles. As excited as I am, I must say I'm ready for it to finally be here. It's been a long time coming, with many hoops to jump thru, hurdles to leap. To say that there have been sleepless nights along the way would be putting it mildly. In late December, things looked as bleak as the Kansas sky I drove past. I felt alone (thanks for hangin' in there with me BB). I tried real hard to stay as positive as possible. Attitude was everything, still is. Stay focused and stay the course. And that still has to be the M.O. The realization that there will ALWAYS be problems to solve, and the spirit to say that they will be solved (where there's a will, there's a way. It all depends on how bad you want it.) is all you've got to hang your hat on. Yep, as that big plane takes off I will feel some sort of personal victory. The work paid off. What some people think isn't possible, is. You make your own reality, remember that. Never let others dictate your dreams. Keep on keepin' on. In the end, win or lose, you'll be happier with yourself for fighting the good fight. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-07T05:29:00.000-08:00

God bless Kirby Puckett. He played the game like a man and enjoyed it like a boy. May we all find such passion in our life's work. As a baseball fan, Puckett was everything you wanted in a ball player. He never let up, never gave in, and every so often made the impossible happen, the true sign of a Hall of Famer. He always seemed so happy, like the only place he should be was on the diamond. He made you want to watch the game. I was never a Twins fan, infact in one of his two World Series championships, I was actually rooting for Atlanta, and still I couldn't help but smile at Kirby Puckett and the way he played. He did it the right way. Sad as this ending is, he will always be remembered for everything that is good in baseball, everything that is good when a person is doing what they should be doing, and enjoying every second of it. In the end, can any of us ask for anything better? Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-06T05:32:00.000-08:00

I went to a zoo yesterday. Hadn't been to one in many years, and the last time I had been to one I think I was more interested in watching my son, making sure he was okay within the crowds, and making sure he saw "everything", that I wasn't really viewing things for myself. Well, yesterday I did. It was amazing. I really looked at the animals with a sense of wonder I hadn't felt in a long long time. It was like being a kid again. I hope that keeps happening to me as I get older. I hope things that should have meant something but didn't because I was too busy, come back around with a sense of wonder. The size of the elephants and gators were like too much to comprehend. I don't know how I missed having that feeling the last time around. I guess I was too worried with everything else to enjoy it on that level for me. Makes me wonder what else we miss in our lives. I guess retirement is a wonderful thing. Not that I'm even close to that (I got carded TWICE for beer!!!!). Just makes me think. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-03T04:52:00.000-08:00

Thank goodness some fashion trends don't come back around. Why was it EVER acceptable for a dude to have feathered hair, cut his Heart, Blue Oyster Cult, or Thin Lizzy concert shirts to expose his lower back and stomach, wear tight jeans and white Nike tennis shoes, and have an oversized hairbrush in his right back pocket? Geez! I had a soundman in the very early 90's who still had that look. It was horrible. Clubs would ask management to please have him put on a "full" shirt during load in. What an embarrassment, what a jackass. Then there was Ron John, the biggest stonner in my neighborhood when I was growing up. He was like six years older than us which made him old, real old. The dude was lit up 24-7. He once made himself a skateboard that was exactly the size of his left foot. He thought he was the shit, the cat's meow. It was a skate without the boot. He fell off and scraped himself up daily. No wonder they call it "dope". The pot head was full of scabs. Anyway, good thing not all trends make a come back. Awful. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-02T05:35:00.000-08:00

This morning I was listening to a song off of my Honeylove CD, "A Question of Doubt". The song is about compromise. It got me thinking. Isn't everything in life about compromising? Not giving in, but more of accepting. When you prioritize, aren't you actually compromising? Compromising usually is taken as a let down, a giving up and giving in. That, to me, is a cheap dismissal. Compromising is a very basic aspect of life. You compromise watching the last quarter of Monday Night Football so that you'll be rested in the morning, or you compromise feeling tired in the morning to watch your team play late into the night. And it builds to more complex issues. You compromise the close relationship you have with your parents when you decide to find a mate. I guess what I'm thinking is that "the compromise" is a very normal thing, a very healthy thing. By definition, it's the partial surrender of claims or demands by each side. It's making decisions. And I think, not asking whether good or bad, simply doing what you want and feel in your heart. Gut instinct. Putting up with the crappy side of something in exchange for the good side.
I'll compromise the tired feeling of an 11 hour drive in the van because I want to play Nashville. Some may not, but I will. I guess that always begs the question, "how much are you willing to compromise?" Take care. Later, Butch

2006-03-01T04:55:00.000-08:00

Perspective. That's the key to everything. At least that's what I'm thinking. Perspective influences attitude, and attitude is without doubt everything. Through attitude and perspective we can gain contentment. That's the hardest to obtain, yet the puriest. If you've got contentment, the world and life are A-OK. But it's hard to obtain. It starts with the way we look at things. Realizing as bad as you may think things are, somebody somewhere is dealing with worse, is a good start. It's not that you should seek out other people's troubles to make yourself feel better, but in realizing that is the case, you can gain perspective, start to become a "glass half full" rather than a "glass half empty" type of person. And that, my friends, is all attitude. To those out there I know and keep in touch with, those who are in somewhat dire straits these days, remember, somebody's got it worse. Not to diminish your situation, but put it in perspective. Seek out the things that are whole and good in your life and be thankful for them. It's the way I try to cope. Believe me, we all have troubles. They may seem big to us, big to others, and yet small to others, thus, maybe, becoming smaller to us. Hang in there. Cope. You'll make it, I know you will, we will. Good luck and know you're not alone. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-28T04:35:00.000-08:00

In "The Road Not Taken", the great American poet Robert Frost wrote "way leads on to way". In "Hey, Hey, My, My", Canadian songsmith and rocker Neil Young wrote "once you're gone, you can never come back." I've been reading a baseball book, "The Head Game", about the role of pitching in the game. The pitcher's mound began as a pitching "box". As early early games were played, holes developed, and pitchers packed in dirt to even them out. If too much dirt was packed in, a "mound" would develop. Once a pitcher realized the advantage to pitching "downhill", and it's effects on velocity toward the pitched baseball, the box became a thing of the past. Way led on to way, there was no way to come back. As I prepare for the UK, the mystical land of mod rock once seemed so far away. To think that I could forget my musical experiences there and be content with a corner in a Largo bar would be pathetic and silly. Way has led on to way. I've gone, and I can't come back. Of course, I'll still play that bar in Largo (I am still very realistic), but to not continue to grow and expand would seem very odd, and sad. To not travel my music would be the eventual death of it. People say "wow", and commend my gumption of continuing to play and travel, but to me it's the natural progression. If you realize there is something you do that is "what you do", then how can you not do it?
Way leads on to way. I want Europe, I want Japan, and why not? I can't go back. I couldn't go back after that first ever gig at 16 at the local junior high talent show. Nothing's changed. From the junior high to the UK, way has led on to way. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-27T04:29:00.000-08:00

So it's a cold Monday morning (by Florida standards) and I've got a kink in my left shoulder and neck that feels like the size of Texas. It's leading me down that ugly path called "my head feels like it's gonna explode due to a fhuge headache". Other than that I'm trying to surround myself with hakuna matata. Closing my eyes and slowing down my breathing every so often doesn't really do much but it makes me feel like I'm trying to cope. I'm not sure if it's that I slept in a funky position, or that I didn't sleep much this weekend (and when I did doze off it was in a funky position on a sofa or something), or just simply stress, or all of the above mixed in together to make me feel like crap. I mean, besides the headache and neck/shoulder pain, I feel twisted, uneven. A few weeks back I had a laugh over a waiter I saw who looked "twisted" but really wasn't. He was just serving the food in an odd fashion. I wonder if this is bad karma coming back to get me? Whatever the reason, one thing's for sure: this too shall pass and I'll feel better when it's gone. I look forward to a better tomorrow, one that is pain free, footloose, and full of fancy, whatever that means. It sounds good, better than this Texan kink, so I'll take it. "Fancy" seems so self indulgent. But really, sometimes you've got to save yourself. You, and only you, can make you feel even again, healthy. Keep on keepin' on. Kinks come and go. Yeah, this too shall pass. I think I'll weather this storm. Here's to a better tomorrow. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-24T05:21:00.000-08:00

It was just like old times. Steve Connelly and myself killed 5 hours of studio time in a heartbeat. Midnight arrived quickly. He's such a talented guy. Anyone who has come across him will easily attest to that. It was a pleasure. I felt so at home. It was like that old pair of jeans. You know, the ones in the back of the closet you haven't worn for a bit. You forgot just how good they felt. Yeah, it was great being back there. The creative juices really flow for me in that environment. Steve just jumps in head first into the songs. He causes you to do the same, to go for it. I can't wait to be back, to work on a full album again. Maybe the summer. For now, I've got other fish to fry. The live gigs pick up starting tonight. The UK and Cavern Club are right around the corner. Time to focus back on that. The blinders are going up, got a job to do. It's been a long time coming. I'm ready, more than ready. Adios. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-23T05:44:00.000-08:00

Tonight I'm back in the studio with one of the finest musicians I've ever met. Steve Connelly is the guy who plays "everything" on my two solo CD's, and did a bunch of little stuff on "Wishing On the Stars", as well as engineer and co-produce those 3 CD's. It's hard to believe it's been 2 years since I last worked with him. We've been in touch, but to actually be in the studio with him, working on music, has been 2 years now. Wow, time flies. Tonight I'll be working on an acoustic tune I want to include on a compilation CD I'm putting out including bits and pieces of the last 4 CD's I've recorded the last 10 years. I always feel so comfortable working with Steve. I know I'm in good hands. We always seem to be on the same musical page. I'm really looking forward to it. And I'm not a guy who really likes the studio all that much. I mean, it's hard hard work. Things don't go to tape sounding good easily. Having Steve man the controls has always made it more pleasurable for me. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I hate the studio, but I'm more of a live show kind of guy. That's where I feel best. More tomorrow on how it went. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-22T05:36:00.000-08:00

Other than music, the only other thing I could surround myself with all day, every day, would be baseball. I love baseball. I mean it's a passion. I could go to a game every day. I don't want to sound like a poetic fairy but I really do dig the sound of the crack of the bat, or the popping of the ball against the mitt. Growing up in Florida, baseball means the warm feeling of the sun on your skin. I'm a pretty laid back person (some will argue that) so I think the flow of the game, the leisurely pace really feels comfortable to me. When you "take in" a game (and that's what you do with baseball, you don't "go" to a game, you "take" it in), there's so much room for conversation and reflection. Anyway, it's baseball time again. I love this time of year. I get the same feeling every season. I feel giddy just like I did when I was 10. My dad is the same way. I can hear it in his voice over the phone. He's jonesin' for a game to start. So am I. Take me away baseball. Take me away from the everyday, the stress and the strife. Let me escape back to my boyhood. Let me remember how carefree and safe things once were. No responsibility except to stay true to your team. Wow, if life could be so simple. But, as Peter Pan found out, that's not the natural way of things. Being Peter Pan will leave you empty and longing. So, let's play ball for just a bit, escape each Spring and Summer, own up to things, and live out the lives we long to live. Have a smile and a Coke and be happy with the realization that the everyday isn't all that bad. Hope springs eternal, both in life and baseball. GO CUBS!!! Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-21T04:41:00.000-08:00

Last night I saw and felt myself at age 12 all over again. My son will turn 12 next month. He was told by the school principal he needed a haircut. It really wasn't that long (I've got no room to talk) but it's a private school with rules, take it or leave it. It's the same Catholic school I attended. Great place, I love it. Anyway, I took him to the barber. As I sat reading People magazine, my eye caught him sitting there looking into the mirror as the barber cut away all those locks that took so much time to acquire. He looked like he was going to cry. My heart went out to him. I was there once. You need that hair length to look good in front of the mirror while blasting the radio and playing air guitar. It's from those moments that rock and roll dreams are born. Damn, I hated getting my hair cut. And I was lucky that my grandfather was a barber. He was always on my side. He cut the least possible. I never forgot that. Every so often he'd show up at a gig and I'd play "La Bamba" for him. I owed him. I miss him. Let me get back to my story before I depress myself. Once my son's torture was over, I tried to console him: it's only hair, it'll grow back, you won't have to cut it over the summer, once you're in college you'll never have to cut it again (I left out the part about job interviews after graduation). He just shook his head and stared at my mane. Poor kid. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-20T04:42:00.000-08:00

Gimme back my bullets. That's the title to an old album and song by Lynyrd Skynyrd. The album cover was shot on the porch of a little old two story wooden country house. Wow, that's a lot of adjectives. Well, the house is even older these days. I had the pleasure of doing a photo shoot there Saturday morning. What a location, what a setting. It was cool on it's own, but knowing it's "rock" history made it really cool. See, I'm still and will always be 16 at heart when it comes to rock and roll. I was walking on air when I played The Stone Pony. I felt like Bruce was everywhere on that stage. I actual shed a tear when I first walked into The Cavern Club and realized I'd be on the stage where The Beatles (and for me, John Lennon) had started. And so I found myself with Telecaster in hand, walking around amazed I was there. Yeah, I still dig this whole rock and roll thing. Always will. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-17T04:48:00.000-08:00

The TV sitcom sensation of the 80's, "Cheers", had a theme song that many remember. The opening line, though, begs and leads me to a question this morning. The line, if you remember, is, "sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name." And while this is true, isn't it also true that sometimes you want to go where nobody knows your name. In fact, I'm going to throw the proposition out there that as we get older, isn't the thought of being able to "escape" from the everyday and all it's ruts and b.s. more welcomed than going to a place where everybody knows your name? (Of couse, this is all shot to hell like a Dick Chaney hunting trip by the word "sometimes", as opposed to "all the time".) Maybe I'm becoming more and more antisocial? I don't know. Maybe it IS just me, but the idea of going where nobody knows your name, and therefore not expecting anything from you, demands and responsibilities out the window, is very appealing. The thought of peace and freedom, together at the same time with no cell phone calls, no place to have to be, no time schedules, would be really cool for a while. Of course, then I'd get bored, or feel like I'm not accomplishing much. But just for a little while it would be cool. I mean, going to a place where everybody knows your name all the time would get equally as old as quickly, I think. Just a thought. I guess the impotant word here is "sometimes". Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-16T04:47:00.000-08:00

Well, things are finally gonna start to heat up again as far as full band gigs. Starting next weekend, we go two weeks with a few band gigs to play, one week off, and then it's the UK. We'll do 3 straight nights over there. The guys'll fly back, and I'll stay on to do a few acoustic solo shows. Once I get back, we play every week leading up to a road trip with 2 dates in Nashville Easter weekend. Finally, things will seem a little back to normal. Besides those full band dates, I'll have a few acoustic solo gigs sprinkled in. I'll also do a studio date this month before heading to the UK. I imagine I'll be back in the studio after the Nashville trip. It'll feel good to get this all behind me and keep moving forward. It's not that I haven't been busy since the shake up at the beginning of the year. The past 6 weeks have been full of rehearsals, solo gigs, the occasional band gig, editing video, and many business decisions. So, it's not like I've been sitting around. But it will feel good to be back up in the saddle again. I won't exactly be right back to where I left off in 2005, but a lot of headway has been made. Gigs and time will get me there shortly. I can't wait. That's where I want to be. I must remain patient. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-15T04:41:00.000-08:00

The "50 Miles" video has been completed. I finished it a few days ago. After watching it a few hundred times during the editing process (it has 238 edits), I let a few others view it. I received good feedback. Then I let it sit for a few days, and finally rewatched it. It's done. The process of letting it leave your mind for a few days and then coming back to it is one I use with everything. It's good to get a fresh perspective on it after a few days rest. You tend to either miss things or keep adding too much when it's jumbled up in your head while working on it. The time away from it helps you to avoid these type of pitfalls. The video took over 10 hours of editing time. I'm pleased with it for a few reasons. At first I thought I didn't have enough raw footage and therefore wasn't going to have a video. The driving around footage really helped to hold it together. I'm also happy with the fact that I think the shots and quick edits really help get the feeling across that I was trying to capture when I wrote the song to begin with. I let my mom watch it. She really liked it. She thought I looked angry in it. It's not anger, it's desperation and serious commitment. That's what the character in the song is all about. The song itself has never been released. In fact, the version for the video is a demo I did of it. Live, it's usually the opener. Once things settle down and get into place with the band, I'll start recording a new CD. It will be on there for sure. As for the video, it should be posted for general viewing on the site very soon. I just had 20 high schoolers give it the seal of approval. Yeah, it ended up being a great thing to work on. I'm very satisfied and happy with the experience. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-14T05:25:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day! And what a morning it's been for the "new look" Butch. I felt a cold coming on so I went to bed early. The rest, along with the OJ and vitamin C had me feeling good this morning at 5:30. I even had a laugh thinking of something that happened the night before, as I was headed upstairs to bed. I saw my son secretly writing a Valentine's card. I thought he was hiding it from me because it was a surprise for me. WRONG! I got nothin'. It was for a girl in school. Guess the kid is growing up but I still see him as my baby boy. Anyway, then as I leave the house... flat tire! Great! And it's freezing outside, really. It's cold. Not just by Florida standards either. It was like in the 30's! I know, Chicago is laughing right now. But, c'mon, the "new look" Butch is still the "same old" Florida boy. It was cold. Oh well, at least I'm not sick... yet. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-13T05:01:00.000-08:00

Guestbook wars! I find it very amusing that there seems to be some fighting between those who like the "new look" Butch and those who don't. The "new look" Butch, in case those with a life haven't noticed, is me wearing a print shirt that buttons down as opposed to a t-shirt. Also, a jacket! Not a sport coat but something Tom Petty or The Kinks might have worn. (Note to the person who suggested the Springsteen/Petty song skills with the UB40/Thompson Twins look, check out "Tunnel of Love", or "Damn the Torpedeos" or "Hard Promises", etc., etc.) I guess it's good that at least people are going to the site. I thank those that like the "new look" Butch for their support. To those who don't, sorry, but try to get over it by listening to the music. I haven't added synths! Thanks for checking the site. I wish I could make everyone happy with my fashion choices but as Abe Lincoln said a long long time ago, "you can't please all of the people all of the time". And besides, I like the "new look" Butch (though it's not that new of a look), and in the end, isn't that what's most important. You can't please others if you're not pleasing yourself. Thanks for giving me that, and thanks for your support. I need it. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-09T05:28:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I got two pieces of information, both of which were troubling. Two people I know well, both about my age, had rough weekends, to say the least. One with ailing health, the other mental anguish. Unfortunately, one lost their life. I'm left numb. This life is so precious, so fleeting. I'm at a loss for words. Deadlines, schedules, etc. can wait. I pray for them, for all of us, and for myself. May I realize what I have, how lucky I am, and may I live everyday to its upmost potential. I hope you do the same. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-08T07:47:00.000-08:00

100!!!! Yeaaaaah! OK, that's it for the celebration. Got no time, baby. Made big leaps with my raw footage yesterday. The video is going great, movin' along. The edit ideas are poppin' in my head like zits on the face of a pizza eatin' teenager. Will explain tomorrow, gotta get back to the edit room. I'm really happy with the video thus far. 100 came and went...we'll celebrate 200 much bigger. Promise. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-07T04:22:00.000-08:00

Today is my 99th entry. One more and I've hit the century mark. Who would've thunk it? An English major with a gift for gab reaching 100 blog entries, nah. Speaking of 99, remember 99 in "Get Smart"? (Yep, not much today.) She was a hottie. Barbara Felton. Que bella. She wore those black spy turtle neck sweaters... ummmm. Two things here: one, you'll never see me in a turtle neck (a few folks close to the band are laughing right now), and two, listen to a song I wrote called "Driving to Canada" and you'll know how I feel about women in sweaters. Man, I just melt. And then 99 had that Monica Lewinsky hair style, which looked great back in the 60's to begin with, but looks even better now because it brings with it images of Monica and "happy endings". Yeah, Barbie Felton, baby. Mysterious... naughty... randy. That's what I see in my mind's eye when I hear "99". Not some fat spoiled football player who tried to get crazy with Mikie D. of your Robinson Knights (a lot of inside references today. Sorry.) There was even a song written in the 80's about her. I think it was from the band Toto. Some internet junkie should send me an email to confirm this. What? Please. Face it, if you've got time to read my blogs, you've got time to look it up. If not I'll ask The Jeff Wood, my drummer friend. He's a walking music trivia encyclopaedia (alternate spelling). Anywho, today was just the pre-show to tomorrow's extravaganza that is my 100th blog entry. Maybe something cool will happen today so I can blog about that and not bullshit my way through another entry? One can only hope. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-06T07:02:00.000-08:00

You gotta love The Stones. Mick was honest when he said they coulda played "Satisfaction" at Super Bowl I. And they sounded soooo live, soooo raw. Not that usual Ashlee Simpson lip syncing crap. It was rock and roll, edgy and dirty, they way it's suppose to be. And I'm not a huge Stones fan but c'mon. Keep Timberlake, Janet, and her boob. Gimme The Stones. AND, I hate dancing that has been practiced! Keep that for Radio City. Timberlake is NOT a rock and roller. He's a good looking kid who can dance and sing like he has soul. If this were the 1940's, he'd be playing Vegas. Save it. I'm troubled that a lot of the youngsters these days think this is rock and roll. It isn't. It's crap. AND don't get me started on American Idol! Crap, crap, crap. Whew... I feel better. These little idiots are spewing their negetivity today on the radio over The Stones Super Bowl jam. They have problems cause it sounded too live, and Mick doesn't dance in unison with Keith and Ronnie. Pathetic. I can't wait to run home and plug in my Tele (might even turn my amp to "11") and make some noise! I weep for the future. The Stones rocked, and these kids today suck...wow, I gots to relax. Take a chill pill. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-02-02T07:23:00.000-08:00

I want my MTV. That was the catch phrase of my teen years. Light years later I'm buried over my head with raw footage I'm trying to edit for a new video for the web site. A new song with the new line up. It's a lot of work but hell, I've been teaching this stuff for 9 years now so I know what's what. That's the problem today. I need more footage, better footage, and a storyline. I was thinking the old usual band playing live video, but that's not cutting it. Not enough quality video. So I find myself driving the Interstate with a camcorder on my dash, singing along to the CD player. Go figure. A driving song. It's called "50 Miles" so I guess it'll work. Who knows? I guess I still want my MTV (although MTV isn't what it used to be. Do they ever play actual videos any more?). Having a video on the site is very helpful. People can see you besides hearing you. Good for the promo pack too. Anyway, as if I didn't have enough on my plate with getting the new guys ready for the UK, I'm now a video producer as well. And, no blog till Monday as I'm doing a little charity work at my son's school. Gotta earn those parent hours. Take care. Later, Butch
P.S. Incase you're wondering if I ever rest, I'll get 7 and a half hours sleep come March 16th as we fly to Manchester. The manager will drug me! Ah, such sweet relief.

2006-02-01T05:28:00.000-08:00

Today I opted for the chili. I could've gone for the old regular: ham and cheese sandwich with a banana on the side, which is quite good and satisfying, but the chili seemed the better choice due to the weather. I know my people up in Chicago would laugh at 40 degrees but remember, I'm a Florida boy. Forty is cold, though forty one isn't old (different subject, nevermind). The leftover chili will really hit the spot, adding a little warmth to a very cold day (not emotionally though, that's a different subject, nevermind). I wonder if the powers that be caused this 40 degree weather to prepare me for the UK? I wonder if they have chili in the UK? I bet they do. Chili would be a natural in England when it's cold and wet (not that it is all the time. I wouldn't want to offend the good people of the UK. It's a wonderful place over there). Maybe if they don't have chili in the UK I could start a chili cafe. I'd call it... The Chili Cafe! I'd make a million pounds (which would be like 1.79 million dollars over here in the USA). YEAH, forget rock and roll, chili is where it's at. Besides, my Fender Telecaster doesn't come with a hot water bottle. I'll need something to keep me warm over there. Chili. Take care. Later, Butch
P.S. The word chili appears 10 times (11 now) in this blog entry. Wow, I must really be looking forward to it. PLUS, the word Chicago (GO CUBS) which appears in this blog entry once, also begins with C-H-I, like chili (12 times). Go figure.

2006-01-31T05:29:00.000-08:00

A little inside info about me: I like wearing sunglasses. I like driving around with the top down on my convertible. I like to feel the sunshine on my skin. Due to my Hispanic background, I tan easily and never feel the need to put on tanning butter. (I know it's not good for me. Relax!) I was born, raised, and still live in Florida. It's known as The Sunshine State. I think you can see a pattern here. OK, now for today. Cold and wet. The cold doesn't bother me for one day: Christmas. After that, let's heat it up again. The rain doesn't bother me as long as I can stay in bed that day. If it's raining and I've got to do something outside the house, I'd rather it would stop. So why all this info? 'Cause I'm heading to England in 6 weeks. England, land of cold and wet. Go figure. At least I'll have my Fender Telecaster to keep me warm and dry. Oh, the things you do to feel that same rush you first experienced when you were sixteen. Rock and roll, baby. I'd stand drenched and frozen for the chance to play and sing. What can I say? I love it. Always have, always will. It's what I do. Nothing's changed since I was sixteen. Believe me, I appreciate that about my life. I really do. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-01-30T07:15:00.000-08:00

Saturday's show with Eddy and Jeff went very well. We did about a 30 minute set (8 tunes). It was good to finally get a gig with the new line up under our belt. There were a few moments I really really felt good about. Moments I know will only get better as we continue to play together. All we need is time. Jeff really followed me in "Cautious Man" and " Six Feet". I realized quickly he's really good at that. He watches what's going on with the live show rather than putting his head down and losing himself in his drum work. It's important that he follows what I'm doing with the audience. It makes the live show so much better. I'm excited to see how this developes further as we do more gigs together. The break downs in those two songs were really effective. And in "Cautious Man", Chris comes over and sings a sweet harmony part over my vocal just before we kick it back in. It's awesome. He comes over and we share my mic. It's intimate and powerful. It's rock and roll, and I heard and felt a hugh rush from the crowd as we did that and then Woody and Eddy kicked it in hard. It was really well done. Again, it will only get better. Yeah, I was happy with our first gig. We need practice, but it was a very good and positive start. I can't wait for the UK. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-01-27T05:40:00.000-08:00

A hectic Friday for sure. Tomorrow night I'll play my first gig with the new guys backing me. Chris is the only hold over. I'm excited to get this puppy officially off the ground. Tomorrow night will accomplish that, finally. It's been a long road. At times it was like, "how will I ever get there and get this done?" I guess I just kept keepin' on. Throwing in the towel was never ever an option. It helps to have good support, belief in you when the going gets rough. I'm lucky. Thanks BB. Your words of encouragement kept me focused. Tomorrow I take another step towards never saying die. It feels good. If you want something bad enough you can make it happen. Maybe not exactly as you had imagined, but be patient and get off your ass. Attitude is everything. You create your own reality. Mine will be on stage tomorrow night. Yeah, it feels good. Gonna keep it short today. Only 3 hours sleep last night as I had an acoustic gig. I'll report on the new line up Monday. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-01-26T05:23:00.000-08:00

I wonder if the Taliban appreciate "the courtesy flush"? I mean, with that one answer, yea or nay, we would learn so much. Being it is a general belief by most that they are a bunch of crazed murderous lowlife scumbags, I bet they've never even heard of "the courtesy flush". There is nothing more universally human than that of "the courtesy flush". Not only does a sensible man appreciate a fellow human being
giving one, but he realizes it is also his duty to reciprocate, his responsibility as a member of the human race (the ONLY civilized life on this planet. I mean, damn, dogs don't give "the courtesy flush". Hell, they don't even flush. Cats cover up so maybe that's a feline version). A responsible member of our world will think of his fellow man and give one in return when the moment calls for such. We've all been there. We KNOW when we are called to give "the courtesy flush". Taliban? Nah, no way. Those bastards don't believe in "the courtesy flush'. I'm convinced of that. The whole idea to even ask was absurd (or should I say abturd). I bet they don't even cover up! I think Toby Keith should cover this subject up in a song. I would but I'm not country enough. I'm as country as a Dixie Chick. Maybe Lee Greenwood. Still, whether you're country or not, "the courtesy flush" is a given. We are one when it comes to "the courtesy flush", and for that I am thankful. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-01-25T05:20:00.001-08:00

Ear fatigue. God, I hate it. Last night I did a bit of recording with Jay in his home studio. On the way home I realized that ugly friend of mine from every recording session I've ever done was back. (No, not Corky! He hasn't been in every recording session, and besides, he's beautiful.) Ear fatigue is more than just your ears being worn out by listening to something over and over and over. A big part of it, for me, is the mental fatigue of figuring out what I'm hearing after hearing it so many times. And it doesn't have to do with excessive volume either. It's draining. I'm lucky enough to know it requires patience. On the way home you listen to it a few more times with the realization that no concrete decisions will be made, rather you will have a return listen in a few days, once your ears and brain have had a chance to forget it. And you only do that once a project is near conclusion. If you're just beginning, or smack in the middle, why even take anything home to listen to? All that will happen is you will listen to something that once completed, will sound totally different, you will freak out and think you're getting nowhere, and you will drive your engineer (the guy who actually turns the knobs) crazy. Patience and maturity, that's what's required, but it's so hard NOT to want to listen right away. Just another frustration in the life of a working musician, but in the end, so worth it. Once your song is completed, it's here forever. It will out live you. Even if it's crap, your kids' kids will listen to grandpa's crap. That's what art does. And that is what makes living through ear fatigue worth it. Take care. Later, Butch

2006-01-25T05:20:00.000-08:00

2006-01-24T05:08:00.000-08:00

Who let the dogs out? Why does that matter? Unless, of course, the dogs that got out mauled someone. Wild beasts should not be left "out". Then, if there was a mauling, and only then, I'd want to know as well. That person (the one who let the dogs out) would have hell to pay. Seriously. Otherwise, who cares? Dogs don't want to be locked up. They want to run free. Infact, they were born free, free as the wind blows. I guess that one guy really really wants to know who let the dogs out, though. I mean, he keeps on asking over and over. He keeps "barking" who ,who, who, who ,who. Barking, ha. Yep, I got nothing today, not a damn thing. Sorry. The pool of ideas is done dried up. Thank goodness I got that English degree at The University of South Florida (GO BULLS!). I mean, I can BULLshit pretty well. But really, all seriousness aside, who did indeed let the dogs out? Take care. Later, Butch