2026/09/03

I Paid My Neighbor in a Zucchini

This post is about a zucchini, a broken microphone, and why I think the outrage cycle is the most effective inertia machine ever built.

Today in Chicago it was Kanye and the ADL. Next week it’ll be someone else. I’m not interested in relitigating who’s right, I’m interested in what all this click-bait, rage-bait do to us. They’re built to make you pick a side, get outraged, share it, and feel like you did something. You didn’t. You just spent twenty minutes of your one life on a distraction engineered to be forgotten by Friday.

These cultural distractions are all just “Us and Them“ as Pink Floyd put it. That’s the whole business model. Not truth. Not resolution. Just enough friction to keep you scrolling, because scrolling is where the money is. None of that moved a single real thing in my life. What did move something was a zucchini.

This year I have had the uncanny ability for growing zucchini. A foot-long zucchini is a small zucchini for me this year. Also this summer, while I was building out my studio, one of the shock mounts for my favorite microphone broke. The piece that broke was maybe fifty cents of hardware, but you would not find it on a shelf, because it is custom to the mount. Without it, my favorite microphone was just a cool looking paperweight. Queue taps on the bugle, please. My wife, who has never met a stranger, found out our neighbor Joe was a welder. I walked over on a Tuesday. He wiped down his bench, made the part by hand, and handed my shock mount back to me like it was nothing.

I paid him in a zucchini.

Not because I couldn’t afford real payment, instead because it was what the moment called for, and he took it like it was exactly the right currency. No Questions. No invoice. No system. No middleman taking a cut. Just two guys who wave at each other now. That’s the whole counter-argument to the outrage machine, right there. It didn’t ask me to pick a side. It just needed a neighbor and a Tuesday afternoon.

These distractions allow us to create the inertia that keeps us on the couch.

If someone in your life has ever fixed something of yours and refused to take real payment for it, send them this and tell them you still owe them a zucchini.

2026/08/19

Why I’m Scoring a Lego Movie at 50

 I continue to experience all sorts of technological hurdles with Ableton and Time code/synch. At the same time, my understanding of Native Instruments Kontakt has been growing at exponential rates. This has been good so far, but it very much feels like I am doing IT work again. This sort is the help desk kind where you struggle to find the root of the problem, while somehow it works one day, but not the other. This is my setup right now. Held together with a lot of duct tape and coat hangers.

While many technological errors are totally unforeseen, and you certainly can’t plan for things, this very much made me insular for a time again, and it was hard to open Ableton each day, just to keep my own personal commitment. I kept at it though, much like I used to with the 9 to 5. but I certainly did not feel progress. This continued me to me being more insular, and the downward spiral begins.

This got me thinking, what was stopping me. Or better said, what was preventing me from attacking each morning with enthusiasm that I was doing something I loved. After a period of time, one word sprang to mind.

Inertia

To quote Google :

“Inertia is the natural tendency of objects in motion to stay in motion and objects at rest to stay at rest, unless a force causes its velocity to change. It is one of the fundamental principles in classical physics, and is described by Isaac Newton in his first law of motion.”

For me, I am talking about the 2nd one.

Bodies at rest tend to stay at rest, unless a force is acted upon them.

When I was a kid, like many of us, I was told I could be anything I wanted to be. For me since about the middle of high school had always been music. Music was it. It made sense. The fact that it makes sense to me is still mind boggling, but that is another post for another day.

I practiced dutifully everyday. Survived high school while learning theory & history, along with a few other instruments including bass guitar. I did not actually buy a bass until my second year at Indiana. I did not meet Penelope — the bass I still play today, over 20 years later — until my mid-twenties. It was also during high school that my first introduction to multi-track recording, MIDI, and synthesis as well. The original ‘duct tape’ studio was:

  1. An Apple IIe with their Basic 8 channel MIDI program

  2. A Yamaha DX 7

  3. An older Roland DDD-1 Drum Machine

  4. A Fostex 4 track tape machine

This culminated in a medley of “Phantom of the Opera” with a few Music Honors Students, the full student choir, multiple music directors, and 1 or 2 live instrumentalists, but memory is foggy on that part honestly. Dean Nagy was kind to say, it reminded him of seeing it originally on Broadway. In truth it was probably not close at all, but as usual with my work it was earnest.

Even when I managed to get into Indiana, which is a pretty decent music school, my family was always very much “safe degree”, so you can get a “safe job”. It was mentioned often, certainly not directly, but in passing ways, such as;; “How will you pay your bills playing music?”, “You know you will never be a rock star”,, “Music is hard, are you sure you want to do that?” [edit: Sorry, this is not meant to be a ‘my family sucks post’]. This lead to me changing majors to English, so much for safe, but they thought I would be a teacher, so they shut up.

It is not just our families though. We here it day in and day out in comments when we share with others. The snide jokes. the off hand comments. This works its way into you after some time. It creates a virtual weight as well. This weight keeps us in this state of rest. It prevents us from taking up martial arts, from learning to paint, trying new foods, to sometimes even just putting down the game controller.

We give it a voice in our head; “I can’t do ……” or “I can’t be ……”. We make excuses as well; “It’s hard”, “People will laugh”,, “There are already so many others doing this.”, worse, we say out loud “I can’t” This gets worse when you are a parent, because while you are telling your kids to be what they want, you are announcing to the world, that this s something you won’t/ can’t/ etc do. Kids listen to the things you expect the least sometimes.

This is the all a part of the Inertia I am trying to share. The self imposed quicksand of doubt that we throw ourselves into. This has been the inertia that I struggle to overcome with everyday. This was the Inertia, that I may have finally recognized, and finally gotten angry enough at it, that I have applied force.

I have been working on my film score demo reel, and learning as much as I can as fast as I can about the Industry. There is still a mountain of books, and 3 courses waiting for me to complete as well, but for me life experience has always been the toughest teacher, so….

the movie industry, films, theater, and all of it take a long time to produce and make and everything, so to channel my creative energy in a forward direction, I am creating my own film to score with my youngest daughter. It will involve a lot of legos, and the quality of the movie I am sure will be a solid C at best, but it should be an honest 20 or so minutes (I hope) of film, that needs a real score, and allows me to develop themes and honest melodies.

While it has only been 4 to 5 honest days of work on the film at this point, I am wildly at work, and Inertia seems to be held at bay.

For some reason I know that I will find my path as long as I keep going with “Penelope”. Things have always made more sense with her, than without. When I make sure to work with her first thing in the morning, the remainder of the day could be shit, but I still feel a sense of accomplishment. Even on those days I described at the beginning of the post with non stop technological hurdles.

I want all of us to find their “Penelope”.

P.S. The name wasn't a deliberate reference to The Odyssey, but there still seems to be a psychic connection between me, the bass, and the tale of Odysseus.

2026/07/31

The Week I Switched DAWs

 I had a few short pieces finished. I was into a  fourth: "Haunted House", and the music was already set in my head.  The hard part was never going to be the writing or figuring out the melodies, chords, whatever.  The hard part was getting a video file into Ableton without it choking.

I spent days on that problem.  Down-coding video in Shortcut just to get more than five audio tracks running.  Nothing against a minimalist score, but that's not always what is needed for the project.  I need to be more flexible, I think.

Somewhere in that search I found the idea of syncing two machines the way you'd sync two MIDI instruments.  Made sense.  I set it up, felt good about it, then tried to merge the two pieces together.

Nothing lined up.

I checked frame rates. Reloaded Ableton four or five times.  Watched it play correctly on the two-PC setup, exported, and watched it fall apart again.  So I loaded the video straight into Ableton instead; didn't even risk playing it first, just exported cold.  Waited.  Played it back.  Still off, but off in a new way this time.  Warp was disabled on the file.  Fixed that, and the timing got closer, but closer isn't done, nor is it correct.

Turned out the real problem was that Ableton can't send MTC.  My options were a Max for Live device that doesn't run on my version of Ableton, or a hardware box.  Neither one felt like a solution. Both felt like a tax.  Also, neither sounded like something I could get the project done by Friday.  That's the moment I started looking at Reaper.

Four days later I'm mid-switch, and of course Ableton picks that week to work again. Fixed my MIDI-OX settings, hit play, and it synced clean.  I went to lunch feeling like a genius.  Came back and none of it worked.  Turns out Windows MIDI drivers only let one program own a port at a time, and Ableton had quietly grabbed it while I wasn't looking.  The fix is to close everything, reopen it in the right order, every time. That's not a workflow. That's a ritual. Also Friday is getting closer.

So, back to Reaper.  Reaper opens faster, which by itself has already saved me hours.  But I'm fighting my own hands.  Fifteen years of Ableton shortcuts are wired into my fingers, and every session I break something because I'm using the wrong software's muscle memory.

Then Thursday I tried to load Kontakt 7 into a new Reaper track and Reaper crashed.  Tried again.  Same crash.  Reinstalled Kontakt.  Reinstalled Reaper.  Rebooted between each attempt.  Nothing changed.  Kontakt runs fine standalone.  Reaper runs fine without it.  Every other NI plugin loads. Just not this one, just not together.  I don't have an answer for that yet.  Again Friday.

With a 2pm deadline and a piece that needed Kontakt to exist, I time-stretched the video in Shotcut instead. Didn't work.  Turns out the file was variable frame rate, and Shotcut doesn't handle that well either.  What did work was printing the mix in real time: new audio track in Ableton, resampling input, arm and record while Reaper drove the transport over rtpMIDI.  Old-school, one pass, no offline bounce to miscalculate. That's how "Haunted House" got made.


I spent twenty years in information security. My job was finding the failure point before it found you. I did not expect that skill to be the main thing I use every day now, just aimed at a DAW instead of a network. But that's what this career change actually is, most weeks. Not inspiration. Troubleshooting.

Nobody tells you that part when you decide to leave a stable job at fifty to go make music for independent film. They tell you about the joy of the work, which is real, and they leave out the part where you lose an entire afternoon to a MIDI port lock. Both are true. I still had a deliverable Friday. I still made it.

If you're switching careers, switching tools, switching anything after twenty years of doing it one way — expect the tools to fight you longer than you think they should. Budget the time for that fight into your week, not just the time for the work you actually want to be doing. It'll take it either way. Better to plan for it than be surprised by it.

"Haunted House" is up. Watch it here: https://youtu.be/9Ho2EUMAjyo. Audio's also on SoundCloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/cV8hkC2GL2pNHqQNJu

Next week I get to find out what breaks next.

2026/07/20

Starting Over at 50

 I was laid off recently by my Fortune 500 employer, and it knocked the grounding out from underneath me. I’d actually seen it coming. I had told a few friends around last Christmas that it might happen soon. But when it did, I was still dumbstruck. I was fortunate to get a severance package, and I have some savings in cash and stocks, but I still have a mortgage on a house in Chicago.

So here’s what I’m doing about it: after 20 years in IT, a mortgage, a wife, and two kids, I’m becoming a composer.

I know how that sounds. I’ve heard it my whole life:
- safe degrees
- safe jobs
- doing the smart thing.

So let me be clear about what this isn’t.

This is not another “I was a corporate C-suite exec, or I founded such-and-such, and had a sudden epiphany I need to share with the world” story. I was never a partner, director, or VP. At best, I managed 12 people spread across the globe for a couple of years, leading an Incident Response team for a Fortune 500 company. I’m not an internet founder who cashed out and gets to wander the world.

I’m a 50-plus former IT worker about to go in a completely different direction and I have no illusions of grandeur. I’m not hoping to be the next pop sensation. Honestly, I never aspired to that kind of life anyway.

How I got here

I’m not sure exactly when it started, but at some point I began to feel like the cubicle, even a nice one, was just a slow death. We had an open floor plan, and I’d worked from home since COVID, so it wasn’t the physical space. It was that being “the cog” in a large Fortune 500 machine had stopped giving me work I actually wanted to do. Most days, I spent more time tracking down the owner of some system, application, or process than I did doing any real work at all. Wash, rinse, repeat.

To be fair, this company rivaled a lot of startups in the quality of life it offered. And the steadiness was genuinely great when I first started; paying bills on time, finally getting a car, all of it. But the emptiness in the actual work kept growing, day by day, paycheck by paycheck, bonus cycle by bonus cycle. As time went on, I fit less and less into that life.

Going back to my roots

Growing up, I wanted to be John Williams. Then it was Danny Elfman and Thomas Newman. For most of my IT career, I quietly longed to write music like Heitor Pereira or Hans Zimmer. Lately it’s been Ludwig Göransson and the bass recorder. Along the way I’ve come to love plenty of others too: Howard Shore, Alan Silvestri, Vangelis, James Newton Howard, Tom Holkenborg, Steve Jablonsky, Trevor Rabin.

I’ve also grown to love and understand the classics; Max Steiner, Elmer Bernstein, Bernard Herrmann, Ennio Morricone. Honestly, I didn’t have a pretty girl on my wall growing up. I had a poster of the orchestra. Truthfully, yes, there was plenty of Star Wars stuff up there too.

That’s the direction I’m heading now: composing, and working as hard as I can in film, theater, dance, and any other form of mixed media that will have me.

If you’d like to know more about my background, you can find my resume and bio here: https://1bluebass.com/studio

I have no idea what the future holds. Maybe success. Maybe homelessness. Stay tuned to find out.

In the meantime, here’s a look at my composing desk, where all of this actually starts, and a video in what will become my portfolio. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you’ll come back for the next installment.

Until then — safe travels






2026/04/27

The Gilded Pew: A View from the Street

Channeling the Spirit of Studs Terkel

The tape is rolling. It's 2026, and the air in Chicago is thick with the same old promises, just wrapped in newer, shinier digital foil.  We're talking about faith today folks.  Not the kind that moves mountains, but the kind that moves poll numbers. 

I'm sitting here thinking about the people I met over the years.  Some were bricklayers with hands like weathered leather.  I'd hear it often: "Studs, a building is only as good as its foundation.  If the bottom is rotten, the gold leaf at the top of the dome doesn't mean a lick." I watched the critters in Washington on Sunday.

Take Senator Tim Sheehy.  He's up there in our hallowed halls, clutching his chest because the nation's capital can't host a gala without a "threat of violence."  He calls it an "embarrassment" that we don't have a proper ballroom for the Dear Leader.  Now, you can walk down just about any street in this city and you'll see an embarrassment, if you listen and look.  You'll see a man who served in the Marines, sitting on a milk crate with his life in a plastic bag.  You might see someone's mother choosing between the light bill and the prayer she's whispering over her sick child.  But for our great Senator, the tragedy isn't the broken body of a veteran or the hunger of a neighbor, it's the lack of a chandelier-lit room where the powerful can clink glasses in peace.  

Then there's John Fetterman, the man who traded the picket line for the party line, or maybe just a different set of hoodies. Nobody's quite sure which party he's attending, but he is talking about "TDS", Trump Derangement Syndrome, for the few who haven't yet heard that particular piece of name-calling, as if questioning the morality of a movement is itself a kind of vanity. This great senator wants us to "drop the TDS" and just build that White House ballroom.

It's a new brand of name-calling, folks.  A digital stamp for "shut up and follow."  It's the same "snowflake" talk from the "but her emails" days, just polished up for the next election cycle.

The irony is as thick as the smog over the Dan Ryan.  These folks proclaim a "Christian" identity as if it's a membership at Mar-a-Lago.  They use the mythology of the Carpenter from Nazareth, to justify a culture of greed and exclusion.  They've turned "Love thy neighbor" into "Check thy neighbor's voter registration."  They've swapped the Beatitudes for a spreadsheet of corporate tax cuts.

It's a cultural identity, a jacket they put on to signal they're part of the "right" tribe, while the actual teachings, the ones about mercy and the "least of these," get left out in the cold like an unwanted guest.

The worker in the cubicle and the guy on the assembly line, they know when they're being sold a bill of goods.  Christianity, in its essence, is supposed to be a radical empathy.  What we're seeing now is a radical selfishness, dressed in Sunday best and demanding a ballroom while the world outside is shivering.