Bambi (sexy flight attendant)
Excuse me, sir, but are you Layne Wadstone? I love your hilarious video series and your dreamy bedroom eyes.
Why hello. Yes. Yes I am.
Do you think you could help me with something in the airplane bathroom? (giggles and points to her lady parts)
Iâm sorry, Miss, but no. You see, Iâve recently contracted chlamydia.
In any event, you donât want to be like me. I donât care what it is. Getting a new job; curing your acne in time for prom; studying for your finals now so that C- you just got on your mid-terms doesnât sink your whole GPA; youâve got stuff that needs doing. Do it.
And so will I. Promise. And take comfort knowing that while youâre studying in your dorm room at 3 am, I am fast asleep having rewarded myself with a nap after coming up with a knee-slapping sight gag for my screenplay. (Spoiler alert: The vicious dog bit WHAT part of the bad guyâs anatomy? Oh, thatâs rich.)
2. Do Something You Have No Business Doing
So itâs all well and good to do what youâre supposed to do. I mean, I think I read that somewhere. But maybe you should use this time to do something you have no business doing. Something different to give you a
charge. For example, everyone knows that I was the lead singer, songwriter, and rhythm guitarist of SlowBurn, the greatest 90âs band to ever hit Ithaca, New York. Itâs also well-established that despite writing fairly aggressive and/or moody rock, an A&R guy from Atlantic records came to my gig at CBGBâs and called me a âballadeer.â (Itâs also well-know that he showed up during the last 30 seconds of the gig high off his ass, and that I said some not very nice things to him). But what is NOT known, is that I donât know how to play piano. And Iâve never written a song on piano.
So this last month, I taught myself some piano chords and wrote a song. I then recorded it and used my Vegas Video as a multitrack recording device. Mind you that means I had no reverb or eqâing ability. So basically, it was a really, really dumb idea. And a poorly executed one too. The song is all over the place. It is nothing like anything Iâve ever written, and, frankly, you will be able to tell that I donât know how to play piano. You will be able to tell that I overdrove the lo-fi microphone. You will wonder if I own a metronome.
So given all these deficits you may be wondering why I then made a little video to the song and put it online. Especially since Iâm really proud of some of my other music âwritten and played on an instrument I understand and recorded somewhat competentlyâand none of that is available online. Why would I want this to be the only representation of my music to a fairly large audience? And why would I set myself up for âkeep your day job, my ears are bleedingâ abuse from my 75-100 haters on Digg.com?
That is a really good question. And I was going to ask my therapist, but I donât have a therapist so I asked my former co-blogger Mike Swaim. Mike was confused. âWait,â he said. âWhatâs the point of even being alive if youâre not constantly on video?â Maybe heâs right. Or maybe Iâm trying to prove I donât care what anyone thinks. You buy that, right?
Know what else makes no sense about this song? Itâs about leaving the distractions of the internet behind to take care of the more important things in my life. So I recorded it. And put it online. And then blogged about it. Because I am a gigantic bag of contradictory crazy.Â Looking back, I donât think you should take any lessons from this behavior. Letâs move on.
But if you do watch it, do me a favor and double click on embedded vid so you can choose YouTube's "watch in high quality" option.Â This video doesn't need any extra help looking crappy.