I know it sounds a bit self-centered, but I can’t stop listening to it (like I had a choice, I’ve been recording it all day long—but I mean now that it’s done as a rough sketch too). Who’s not getting a titty hard on for the new album?
In more recent news (as of August 14th 2010), we have drums and percussion action on “Recess” courtesy of the ultra-talented Frank Reina! Can’t wait for you to hear it.
Recess
Words and Music by Mike Vitale
You remind me of recess
Recess when I was eight
Playing in the school yard
With a little girl named Kate
I raced her on the monkey bars
Then she chased me to the gate
I tagged her at the log cabin
A point which we’d debate
And then she told me I had cooties
As she kissed me on the cheek
And then ran amongst the other girls
Before I had a chance to speak
Familiarity’s a revolving door
And round and round I spin
But I’d gladly trade the exit for you girl
If you’d only let me in
You remind of eighth grade
Riding on a Grey Hound bus
Taking some trip to an amusement park
All one thousand of us
She boarded the coach with quite a fuss
And then plopped down next to me
Initiated the strangest conversation
That had ever yet happened between two teens
And then she told me I was stupid
And punched me in the junk
And then sat amongst the other girls
That populate the bus
Familiarity’s a revolving door
And round and round I spin
But I’d gladly trade the exit for you, girl
If you’d only let me in
A cup of whatever together, girl
Or maybe just the time of day
Whatever I can get is good
And good is hearing what you have to say
Crushes are a revolving door
And round and round I spin
I guess I could see my way out girl
But I’m wishing you’d invite me in
Dear Mike,
I want to be upfront with you about the way I’ve felt lately, and I know that you feel the same way I do considering how close we are (both figuratively and physically). I need you to know that the decisions you make have a profound effect on my happiness and general comfort level—and I must say, your decisions lately have inevitably led to a great deal of discomfort and unhappiness on my part, hence this letter.
You see, it all started with your latest purchase: a pair of briefs… underwear, at the local designer clothing store. For years now, you have done right by me, taking great care in purchasing what I like: boxer briefs. Generally, and in my humble opinion, I think you look far more attractive in them; they are loose and casual, comfortable and dynamic in their flow and adhesiveness—I feel quite at home in them.
Now, I am all about self-exploration (I mean, come on, we’ve had our fair share of creative shenanigans together—you remember that time with the rubber bands?), and I certainly want you to try new things, or in this particular case, retry new old things that you used to do 20 to 25 years ago when you didn’t have a choice (Christmas was always socks and Fruit of the Loom briefs from mom and dad—hi mom and dad), but I digress.
Look, I was fine when you came home with the first pair of brand new designer briefs from the store a week or two ago, but then (as if to add insult to injury) just a few days ago, YOU-BOUGHT-TWO-MORE-PAIR! What on Earth were you thinking? I’m getting the sweats and chills just thinking about it—it’s like I’m stuck with this decision in much the same manner as I am your leg, and I don’t like it! It’s like my creativity and general comfort level suffocates, as the borders of your briefs draw closer and closer to me with every wash and dry cycle—those 100% cotton abominations of nature! YOU… should be ashamed! That wedgie you are feeling right now up your fault line is no fault of mine and you know it—think of the cocoa brown stains that could happen if you weren’t thorough! What would a lady friend think of that? Neither of us wants or needs another dry spell. Answer me!
[deep breath] I’m sorry…
I need to know: is it something I did or said? Look, I love you… and I want you to be happy. Talk to me; we can work this out. I just want everything (specifically, our underwear) to be more like how it used to be—when the things between us were fresh, more boxer-brief-like, and consensual.
Sincerely,
Your Testicles
So, I’ve been particularly fascinated as of late with a Greek storyteller named Aesop. He has quite the curious history.
Although described as a Greek slave, Aesop is attributed as the creator of many popular fables including, “The Tortoise and the Hare,” “The Goose That Laid The Golden Eggs,” “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” and more to the point of this blog, “The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothes.”
Most biographical material found on the man is panned by experts as being mythical (with good reason)—furthermore, an overwhelming majority of historians also question whether he actually was the author of the fables that are attributed to his name. Considering that most fables were passed down by word of mouth and that a few of Aesop’s fables have been found in earlier works in writing dating back to Ancient Egypt, Ancient India, Assyria, Babylonia, and Sumer—I share their scrutiny. It’s fair to question whether Aesop even existed.
Whatever the case may be, I find fables fascinating because of their elegant moral and practical message summed in a concise story often using animal protagonists. The relevance of their message has managed to traverse thousands of years and many languages, and has even found its place in popular religious texts such as the Bible. For example, the Gospel of Matthew (7:15-16), Jesus said, “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them.”
Wise words… and if I may add, I worry about far more than just false prophets.
THAT SHEEP AND THOSE SHEEP
Words and Music by Mike Vitale
a wolf in a meadow
came across a body
a lamb who had perished
wandering from its herd
the wolf had a notion
disguised is woolen shoddy
to infiltrate their ranks
with an appetite so naughty, singing
that sheep and those sheep will be all mine
sure enough a few followed behind
then the few became the whole herd
a flock of sheep that hung on every word
supper time
the shepherd went home
he left his herd alone
the wolf would conceal
his snarl and bloody grin
and preach of forgiveness
amongst his new brethren
the fruit of his words
a labor towards fruition
to feed his hungry urge
and shady disposition, singing
that sheep and those sheep will be all mine
sure enough a few followed behind
then the few became the whole herd
a flock of sheep that hung on every word
supper time
the shepherd went home
he left his herd alone
supper time
the shepherd went home
he left his herd alone
Touring by your self is fun, but touring with Cory Joseph is funner. 1
Having done a few college and university tours all by my lonesome, I can attest that having company makes all the difference.
In fact, just a few days into my first tour up the West Coast, I found myself deeply starved for human interaction: I remember having a quite an interesting and long winded conversation with some random dude on the street in Seattle who was trying desperately to sell me crack or a hand job only moments before… and if hindsight truly is 20/20, I think I should have been doing this a long time ago, and I don’t mean smoking crack, accepting hand jobs from strangers, or having longwinded conversations—I mean touring with dudes like Cory.
We had a lot of fun on our brief stint up the West Coast—
April 18th 2010 – Visalia House Concert
April 19th 2010 – 210 Café in Visalia, CA
April 23rd 2010 – Red Rocks Café in Mountain View, CA
April 25th 2010 – The Kilns in Bend, OR
but in all honesty, Cory beat me to the punch in terms of blogging about it in a very engaging fashion. So, if you find yourself yearning for a more comprehensive and chronological account of our exploits, I invite you to check out Cory’s blog (not to mention his music):
More blogs coming soon (I have a lot to write about), so stay tuned.
- Mike
- Oh, I can hear it now. You’re probably thinking, funner isn’t a real word. Well you know what, yes it is, and I’ll explain why. Ignoring any instructor induced grammatical hoopla exemplifying that it isn’t a real word, or for that matter all educational and/or spell check standards aside, the primary function of any language is communication and understanding. So, considering that you understand what I am saying when I spout out “funner,” it really is a word—suck on that for a few minutes and then get back to me with your complaints, that is, if you have any. You may not because you are an easy going blog reader, in which case, act like this random footnote rant never happened. ↩
My friend Tina forwarded this to me this morning, and I thought that this was absolutely necessary to share:
These are from a book called “Disorder in the American Courts,” and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters that had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.
ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.
________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes .
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?
__________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
____________________________________
ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: He’s twenty, much like your IQ.
____________________________ _______________
ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you shitting me?
________________________________________
ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Getting laid
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honour, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?
__________________________________ _________
ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Unless the circus was in town, I’m going with male.
_____ _______________________________
ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
_____________________________________
ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.
________________________________________
ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.
_________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WIT NESS : The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: I believe so. If not, he was by the time I finished.
___________________________________________
ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?
_____________________________________
And the best for last:
ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.
Hey Everybody,
So, like a complete idiot, I didn’t snap any shots from the stage when I played the first round of the Best Acoustic Showcase for the Orange County Music Awards, however, luckily, some people with professional camera equipment did. So through the magic of my blog, I thought I would share a couple of shots from January 26th at The Gypsy Den in Santa Ana. I can honestly say that every musician killed that night and it was an absolute pleasure sharing the stage with my friends Kurt Hunter, Brittany Bontempo, and Marc B. It was also awesome to make new friends The Vacuum Bell, I hate you just kidding, and some of the members of Canvas.
For more coverage of this year’s Orange County Music Awards, you can visit the following links:
http://www.ocmusicawards.com/
http://www.ocmusicawards.com/blog/
Thank you to everyone that came out—I think the OCMA’s estimated that there was around 225 people that came out to support that night! I hope you all had fun.
Can you find yourself in some of the crowd shots? It’s like “Where’s Waldo,” but without the stripped shirt.
- Mike
Hey Everybody,
So, I’m in the process of a booking a spring tour with Cory Joseph in late April/early May along the West Coast! We are going to be playing college/university campuses, house shows, venues, etc..
We are always looking for help in terms of places to visit and play, so if you are interested in helping us out by setting up any of the above mentioned, nothing is out of the question. Leave a comment below and we’ll get back to you right quick.
However, more importantly, we need a name to christen our tour. Here are some suggestions that Cory and I both came up with this morning:
a.) Two Guys, one cup [this seemed a bit gross to me].
b.) The Italian Stallion Tour
c.) Two guys, one Mike.
What do you think? Leave a comment below with some suggestions and we’ll pick the best one and carry it with us as our shining moniker as we travel the West Coast like a bunch of gypsies. Bring it on. Ready… go!
Welcome to my first installment of bedroomCLASSICS: This is a brand new song called “Latchkey Kid” and it is going to be on my next album which I am currently in the process of writing. I debuted it at The 2010 Orange County Music Awards Showcase a week or so ago—I wish I could adequately describe the pleasure, gratification, and magic of having 200 people sing along to a song. Perhaps we all have a bit of Latchkey Kid inside of us—or perhaps not. Either way, I hope you like it: I’ve included the words below the video.
Latchkey Kid
Words and Music: Mike Vitale
Coloring books when I was nine
Anything that I could do to pass the time
Finished up my homework after I go home from school
Built a blanket fort in my living room
Set the oven to 400 degrees myself
Perched up on the countertop to reach a kitchen shelf
It’s dinner time, and my parents are nowhere to be seen
So corn dogs and fish sticks are my routine
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
Waiting by the phone for my parents to call
Staring at our family portrait hanging on the wall
My daddy says no TV if stay up too late
Too bad he aint here to regulate
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
Sometimes my father would come home late
And my mother would be drunk by then, smell perfume, and throw a dinner plate
No one to read me story when I tuck myself into bed
So I dream of love
I dream of love
and then start my day again
I’m a latchkey kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a latchkey kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a latchkey kid
I’m a latchkey kid
I’m a latchkey kid
I recently had the luxury of sitting down with myself to conduct an exclusive interview. Having interviewed and/or spoken to several artists just like myself, I was definitely looking forward to the conversation regarding various topics. However, while on a surface level, Mike seems like a wonderful person, in my own humble opinion, it became increasingly apparent as our interview unfolded that he doesn’t handle questions very well—you decide.
Mike: So, what was the inspiration behind this interview with your self?
Mike: Well Mike, I think a one-half serving of Playboy’s Playmate of the Month interviews, and God knows what else—I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. It’s like the story behind the breasts, except—I don’t have breasts.
Mike: Well, we should probably be moving forward to the first question.
What are your biggest turn-ons?
Mike: Wait, isn’t this the second question?—never mind. I guess you’re the expert. Hmm, turn-ons… definitely when someone asks good questions—and a sense of humor: I like that. You seem to lack one of these traits.
Mike: What are your biggest turn-offs?
Mike: Talking to myself: this conversation is over. Just kidding.
Mike: What’s the worst place for a guy to hit on you?
Mike: Pretty much anywhere. I had a guy hit on me at a bar a few months ago—I was shocked by his horrible singing voice, and he was taken aback by my preference for vagina.
Mike: What’s the worst pick-up line you’ve ever heard?
Mike: It’s less of a pickup line, and more of an effort to get my attention. The same guy I mentioned previously was snapping pictures of me from the table next to ours trying desperately to make eye contact with me—I think he had his fair share of wine that night and was craving some Italian.
Mike: What’s the best or most creative pick-up line you’ve ever heard?
Mike: What is it with you and pickup lines? I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone use a pickup line on me before—I’ve had someone buy me a drink. Does that count? My roommate asked me once if my parents were retarded—I said, no. He then qualified this with “you’re pretty special.”
Mike: What approach is most likely to work with you?
Mike: Are we talking about boys or girls? Honestly, where the hell are you getting these questions from?
Mike: What signals do you give to a man when you want him to make the first move?
Mike: You seriously took these questions straight out of a Playboy Playmate of the Month interview, didn’t you? Did you consider reversing the gender to make this appropriate and applicable in terms of a standard interview? What can someone possibly walk away with here? They’ve learned nothing about me! Can you ask me something meaningful? I don’t know—perhaps something about my new website that just launched, or maybe my new E.P. that just went on sale today? How about something about iTunes, and how they take 33% of an artist’s profits right off the top, and how it’s better to buy the music directly off an independent artist’s website. Maybe something about buying my new CD online at http://www.mikevitalemusic.com.
[At this point, I seem noticeably flustered].
Mike: I’ll ask the questions, thank you very much. Have you ever been in a situation when two men competed for your attention at the same time? Who won, and why?
Mike: This is ridiculous—I’m done [removing microphone from collar and throwing it on my chair as I walk away].
So, the Best Acoustic Band/Act Showcase for The 2010 Orange County Music Awards the other night served as the debut for a brand new song that I recently wrote called “Latchkey Kid.” The performance of this song for the first time was a rousing success and definitely the highlight of my night—thank you all for that! Since performing the song at the showcase, I’ve been getting tons of people asking me about its lyrics (thank you again for that as well), so I thought that I would post them here on my blog for you to read. ”Latchkey Kid” is definitely going to be on my next album: I am working on the production in my head as I speak.
Latchkey Kid
Words and Music: Mike Vitale
Coloring books when I was nine
Anything that I could do to pass the time
Finished up my homework after I go home from school
Built a blanket fort in my living room
Set the oven to 400 degrees myself
Perched up on the countertop to reach a kitchen shelf
It’s dinner time, and my parents are nowhere to be seen
So corn dogs and fish sticks are my routine
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
Waiting by the phone for my parents to call
Staring at our family portrait hanging on the wall
My daddy says, “no TV” if stay up too late
Too bad he aint here to regulate
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a Latchkey Kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
Sometimes my father would come home late
And my mother would be drunk by then, smell perfume, and throw a dinner plate
No one to read me story when I tuck myself into bed
So I dream of love
I dream of love
and then start my day again
I’m a latchkey kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a latchkey kid, and nobody cares about the trouble that I’m gettin’ in
I’m a latchkey kid
I’m a latchkey kid
I’m a latchkey kid
