Author: Joey deVilla

I just noticed this: this Sunday — November 10th — will mark the one-year anniversary of The Adventures of AccordionGuy in the 21st Century.

Yes, folks, it’s the Best Day of the Year once again!

Birthday

The Beatles

You say it’s your birthday

It’s my birthday too–yeah

They say it’s your birthday

We’re gonna have a good time

I’m glad it’s your birthday

Happy birthday to you.

Yes we’re going to a party party

Yes we’re going to a party party

Yes we’re going to a party party.

I would like you to dance–Birthday

Take a cha-cha-cha-chance-Birthday

I would like you to dance–Birthday

Dance

You say it’s your birthday

Well it’s my birthday too–yeah

You say it’s your birthday

We’re gonna have a good time

I’m glad it’s your birthday

Happy birthday to you.

Life’s been nothing short of eventful since I turned 30. The day I turned 30, I wrote an amazing letter of resignation in which I called my boss a “self-serving, self-aggrandizing grifter” and went off to start my own little consulting firm. I went on an amazing trip to Japan just before my 31st birthday. Almost exactly midway between my 31st and 32nd birthdays, I played the accordion in public for the first time, a life-changing event in so many ways. I accidentally made out with a nineteen-year old before my 32nd and had an even more amazing trip to Prague shortly after. I packed a record-breaking number of people at my 33rd birthday party (which came complete with a fireworks display, courtesy of my friend Chris) and moved to San Francisco shortly afterwards. A small but significant number of the wrong girls (wrong in the sense that they were seeing friends of mine, completely nuts, or both) admitted their crushes on me during some awkward (but fun in that perverse sort of way that a guy like me would appreciate) moments during my 34th birthday party.

I’m sure I’ll do some more self-indulgent nattering as the week goes on. Hey, it’s my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want. In the meantime, here are some pieces I found using Google on turning 35:

• Howard Greenstein: Reflections on Turning 35
• Lynette Chiang: Turning 35 in Edinburgh
• M. Figueroa: turning 35
• No Jerry-atric: The Raiders’ Jerry Rice has caught 35 touchdowns since turning 35

  Washed up at 35

• Monica Bradlee: Happy Birthday to Me!

Before I go, a quick excerpt from a Smash Mouth song, Let’s Rock:

Lately I’ve been thinking about the past

About the good times

And have they all come and gone

And are there more years behind than ahead

Then I say to myself

“Fuck it, let’s rock!”

My sentiments exactly.

I tried to get into the BamBoo to have one last Red Stripe before its closed its doors forever, but wasn’t able to get in. The combination of a Thursday Hallowe’en night — always a busy night in this rather clubby neighbourhood — and everyone’s desire to see the place just one more time made for a long line in which people at the back had been waiting for over an hour. I opted to catch up with my other friends from the Thirsty People of Toronto, who were planning to meet at the Velvet Underground.

Normally, there’s never a lineup outside the Velvet, but that night was an exception. Local goth heroes “Vegasphere” were holding a Hallowe’en concert there that night, and their setup took up a fair bit of space, which in turn lowered the maximum number of people legally allowed in the club at any time. Unlike the BamBoo, the line was moving slowly and it looked like I had a better than even chance of eventually getting inside. I took my place in the cue and busked a little. I made enough to buy a drink and pay for the cover.

Punkass

While in line, a guy who telegraphed “punkass” started talking to me.

Punkass: Dude, can you hold my book bag and take it in with you?

Me: Why don’t you want to carry it in yourself? It doesn’t look heavy. What’s in it?

Punkass: No, it’s not like that. No drugs. [Opens bag and shows me the single box inside it, with “Terayon” printed on its side in large letters.] See? Just a cable modem.

Me: If that’s all that’s in there, why do you want me to carry it?

Punkass: [His voice rising into a whine] You fucking Koreans are so fucking harsh!

Me: Look here, you little fuck. One: I’m not Korean. Two: That was a racist slur. Three: My brother-in-law, who I love as if he were my own brother, is Korean. Four: You want me to do you a favour? You be nice to me.

Blonde woman behind punkass: Say ‘sorry’ to the Accordion Guy.

Punkass: [A little overwhelmed] Okay, okay! I’m sorry! Look, I need you to carry the bag in ’cause I’ll look like a student with it and they won’t let me in!

Me: What are you talking about? Lots of people go in with knapsacks that look just like that.

Punkass: [Still whining] I didn’t bring my ID, that’s why. You look old, you could get in with it.

Me: I already told you once before: don’t insult the man who you want to do you a favour. You must ride the short bus to school, Mr. Ambassador.

Punkass: [Getting huffy, but still trying to be late-teen macho about it.] Look man, you gonna be a dude and help?

Me: I’ll take the bag in, but I don’t think it’ll help.

About 15 minutes passed, after which the line moved more quickly and we reached the door.

Bouncer: Accordion Guy. Gotta look in the bag.

Me: No prob. [I hand him the bag.]

Bouncer: [Looking at the box in the bag.] What’s this?

Me: Cable modem. For my mom.

Bouncer: Cool. I got my mom on high speed internet too. C’mon in.

As I walk in, the bouncer turns to the punkass.

Bouncer: [to punkass] ID, please.

Punkass: [Nervously] Uh….sure.

The punkass started riffling through his wallet, pretending to search for his ID.

(A little memo to all you underage readers out there: “Searching” for your ID in the hopes that the door person will get impatient and let you in rarely works. Anyone who’s worked the door at a bar for longer than a week will easily see through this tactic.)

I walked in, knowing the punkass would never be allowed inside. I walked over to Rob, Velvet Underground’s scary-looking-but-teddy-bear-at-heart head bouncer and told him the story about the punkass and how I still had his bag.

Rob: How much does a cable modem go for?

Me: I got a DSL modem for about $130 on eBay. I figure it should be the same. You don’t actually buy the cable modem — they just rent it to you for something like 10 bucks a month, but I’m sure if you lose it, they’ll charge you the cost of one. I’d love to keep it and sell it on eBay, but being an asshole isn’t enough reason for me to steal from him.

Rob: I say we make him sweat.

At that point, the bouncer who was working the door walked in.

Bouncer: Some kid just tried to fake his way inside without ID. [Turns to me.] Says you have his ID.

Me: What a crock of shit. I have his bag. There’s no ID in it, but his cable modem’s here.

Bouncer: I got an idea. I’m going to say that I didn’t see you in here, and ask him to describe you so that I can find you.

The bouncer runs out, and less than a minute later, runs back in.

Bouncer: [Laughing his ass off] So I said “could you describe the guy you gave your bag to?” and he’s freaking out. “He has a fucking accordion! How many people in there got one?!” [More laughter]. I was going to say “could you describe his accordion?” , but I thought that would be too much.

Me: Here [handing the bag to the bouncer] — give it to the little peckerhead. He’s suffered enough.

Technical difficulties

Vegasphere put on a pretty good show, but when a healthy chunk of the music is on a DAT tape — the drums, samplers and synths were pre-recorded; only the vocals, guitar and bass were live — there’s almost no excuse for putting on a bad one. Their sound is that early 90’s industrial dance style, along the lines of Pretty Hate Machine-era Nine Inch Nails. Chemlab, Machines of Loving Grace or Dink. The sound system was experiencing a little trouble, occassionally cutting out. They closed with a pretty nice cover of Cyndi Lauper’s She-Bop.

When the band finished their set, the DJ started with the regular Thursday night set of goth/industrial music, choosing to open with Ministry’s old classic, Every Day is Hallowe’en. A few bars into Al Jourgenson’s fake British accent, the amps blew their fuses. I let about half a minute pass, saw one or two people actually pantomiming accordion playing while looking right at me, took the accordion of my back and played Head Like a Hole, with a lot of people in the crowd joining in the singing. By the time I was done, the DJs had managed to replace the fuses, and we were back to dancing.

“Much love to Mr. Accordion Man!” announced the DJ over the P.A., after which several club-goers bought me drinks.

“This,” I said to my friend Paul Marhue, who was dancing beside me as I drank a Rev, “is why I take the accordion everywhere.”

Shaft

After last call, I went over to Amato’s Pizza to busk for some more money to cover the expenses of my upcoming birthday bash. While I was playing, a black guy who looked just like the Samuel L. Jackson version of Shaft said “Hey, Joey!”. The voice was familiar, but the face wasn’t.

“It’s me, Will!”

“Holy shit!” I said. I looked more closely, and it was Will, under a rubber bald-headed cap and a lot of makeup.

Here’s what Will normally looks like:

And here he is in his Shaft costume:

That costume must’ve taken a lot of work.

So far, 66 people have said they’ll come to the party. Bring a little extra beer, folks!

Tomorrow is my 35th birthday, so today’s my last day in the “must-be-in” 18 to 34 demographic. Tomorrow, I will be invisible to the market research guys who’ve been following me around trying to sell me beer, cars or magazines, or asking questions like “smooth or chunky?”, “Britney or Christina?”, “Hives or Vines?”, “Aaron or Wes?” and “dom or sub?”. It’ll be nice not having those guys underfoot.

My friend, Nancy Miki doesn’t agree: she says I’ll always be in the 18 to 34 demographic. I’ll take that as a compliment.

The best kind of song that a street musician can perform is one that the audience can sing along to, even if they’ve never heard it before. I tried this one last night, and it went over really well.

In fact, it went over so well that a guy gave me a crisp twenty-dollar bill for it.

He just paid for the ice for my birthday party. Thanks, dude! And thanks, Jay, Silent Bob and Afroman!

Because I Got High

by Afroman

from the albums “The Good Times” and “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back soundtrack”

I was gonna clean my room until I got high

I gonna get up and find the broom but then I got high

My room is still messed up and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I was gonna go to class before I got high

I coulda cheated and I coulda passed but I got high

I am taking it next semester and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I was gonna go to work but then I got high

I just got a new promotion but I got high

Now I’m selling dope and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I was gonna go to court before I got high

I was gonna pay my child support but then I got high

They took my whole paycheque and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I wasnt gonna run from the cops but I was high

I was gonna pull right over and stop but I was high

Now I am a paraplegic and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I was gonna pay my car note until I got high

I wasn’t gonna gamble on the boat but then I got high

Now the tow truck is pulling away and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I was gonna make love to you but then I got high

I was gonna eat yo pussy too but then I got high

Now I’m jacking off and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I messed up my entire life because I got high

I lost my kids and wife because I got high

Now I’m sleeping on the sidewalk and I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

I’m gonna stop singing this song because I’m high

I’m singing this whole thing wrong because I’m high

And if I dont sell one copy I know why

Because I got high, because I got high, because I got high

Here are the chords — for each verse:

line 1: G C

line 2: D G

line 3: G C

line 4: G D G

The song’s extremely simple, having only a bass and a drum machine playing a TR-808-like kick and snare. There’s loads of room for embellishment; I play a lot of the chords as sevenths and throw in a solo just before the “I was gonna make love to you” verse.

If you have RealPlayer, you can see the video for Because I Got High online.

The Ontario Skeptics Society for Critical Inquiry may have an unwieldy name, but they’ve got a great little fair happening tomorrow. It’s the Psychic Unfair, their “response to the psychic fairs and expos that continually promote paranormal phenomena and charlatans in this part of the world”. Accordion City has a popular annual “Psychics, Mystics and Seers Fair” that’s taken place every year for the past while, but this is only the Psychic Unfair’s second such event.

There will be psychic demonstrations, experiments, games, books and lots of information about the skeptical consideration of faith healing, crop circles, cryptozoology, UFOs, alien abductions, ESP, therapeutic touch and other such phenomena. There’s also a $1000 challenge where “psychics” and the public are invited to identify three objects in sealed boxes to win cash.

The Unfair takes place at the Earth Sciences Centre at the University of Toronto tomorrow, Saturday November 2nd, between 1:00 and 6:00 p.m. Here are directions and a map if you’re interested.

Seeing as I live a five-minute bike ride away from U of T, I might drop by. I could use the cash, too.