Do You Want To Dance?

It gets hot in Southern Spain in the summer. Although was it any hotter than most of the other places I’d lived? Maybe a little. It was regularly above ninety degrees. The apartment had air conditioners set in the walls next to the windows, but only in the bedrooms.

Not sure that’s really why I moved into Orlando’s room with him, though. Continue Reading »

Midnight Oil

(Daron Kickstarter update! Wow, you guys we’re already at 42% funded only four days into the campaign! If you haven’t contributed yet, and you want the new omnibus paperback, new Moondog 3 tour T-shirt or other swag, check out the Kickstarter page. -ctan)

I went home that night and wrote my name on the chalkboard for rent. It seemed only fair since I got the feeling I was going to be there a while. Carmina pinched me on the cheek and then kissed where she had pinched, babbling approvingly in Italian or Italian-accented Spanish (I could never tell the difference). Then she took Orlando into their bedroom and fucked his brains out, which was a regular occurrence. Continue Reading »

Everywhere I Go

(Kickstarter update! On the first day we got over $1,000 in pledges!! That puts us almost 1/3rd of the way to the $3,500 goal! Almost all of that first $1K came from regular readers of DGC. MCA Hogarth nabbed the first pledge, quickly followed by Amy, Joe, Cayra, et al… Go check out where we are as of now on Kickstarter. -ctan)

Two days later Orlando took me to meet Gloria–the woman with the jowly face whom I had met briefly on my first night in Seville.

He brought me to a house across from a university building. Unlike most of the houses in this area which had the door at street level but the living quarters up above, this one had a large ground floor parlor which was her classroom. We went there directly from busking so we were carrying our guitars (as well as a lot of loose cash). Gloria was sitting on a stool in one corner of the room, a ragged oval of cajones around the perimeter. Continue Reading »

Liner Note April 2014

ctan here. Okay, first the main news for this liner note:

NEW KICKSTARTER!

Yes, it’s been two years since the last Kickstarter and it’s time for another. My plan this time is to put Ebook 4 and Ebook 5 (comprising the whole cross-country tour) into one omnibus paperback. I’m estimating that it will come out about 40 pages longer than the previous one!

Here’s the video I made about it:

The gist is that we need about $3,500 to produce the paperback and fulfill the rewards. If we raise more than that I’ll also do some stuff like paperback editions of the individual ebooks, and even invest in website upgrades (or maybe moving to paid hosting). The rewards include some cool things ranging from the usual digital bonus scene rewards to Moondog Three tour swag to a stuffed animal tattooed with Sharpie by Ziggy.

The campaign will run 30 days, until May 9. The earlier you can pledge the better, though, as my stress level will be much lower if we reach the goal sooner! (The charges won’t be rung up until May 9th so you can pledge any time.)

Click here to donate: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ceciliatan/darons-guitar-chronicles-second-omnibus-paperback

And here’s a short link to share! http://kck.st/R31kCx

Now for fun stuff. Daron, what have you got? Continue Reading »

No Myth

A week went by where Orlando and I got up around noon pretty much every day, fortified ourselves with bread and coffee, and then busked until sundown. The others were in and out for classes and their various jobs.

Everyone gave their rent money to Vicente. I was unclear on whether this was because Vicente was the one whose name was on the lease or if he was actually connected to the landlord somehow. He had a little chalkboard on the wall by the refrigerator where he would mark what people had given him that month. That made perfect sense given that everyone was working cash gigs that paid unevenly. In that way, busking was a lot like waiting tables, which Carmina did a few nights a week. Continue Reading »

Money’s Too Tight to Mention

So I ended up spending the entire next day in the airport because I didn’t make that standby flight after all. They did book me on another flight late that night, though, for certain. I didn’t complain. Orlando flew ahead and said he’d meet me on the other side. At least I hoped that was what he had said.

Orlando and his girlfriend Carmina were there to meet me at the airport. She was Italian, supposedly, so she spoke about the same amount of English as Orlando did–i.e. almost none–and from what I could tell her Spanish was a little questionable, too. From Orlando’s perspective, I think, she could have been speaking martian and it wouldn’t matter so long as she had that long dark hair, glowing with auburn highlights, and those long, long legs that made every dress she wore look too short. Maybe he had understood me when I’d asked if he was gay and he said no. Continue Reading »

Pump Up The Jam

Two more things happened before Orlando and I left which are relevant. Maybe they’re one thing, actually, though they happened a few hours apart.

The first is that to kill time while we were waiting around, we went to a gate that wasn’t in use, and we played together. My flight to Boston was still showing “delayed” by several hours so we had nothing better to do. A little while later, my flight was cancelled entirely. I’ll spare you the gory details, but add this up: massive blizzard in Boston plus a zillion frequent flyer miles plus Carynne being a kickass manager and making some phone calls equals a transatlantic coach ticket and a hotel voucher. Continue Reading »

Spanish Fly

(Hope you enjoyed Ziggy’s diary, but now we’re back to Daron! See the bottom of this post for some other exciting site news… -ctan)

I didn’t go to Spain looking for love. I didn’t go there looking for fame, either. I’d spent the better part of the previous three years of my life chasing after both of those things, with mixed results. Maybe it was time to look for something else.

So here’s what happened with me, and Orlando, and flamenco, and my quest for something I can’t really put into words… but I’m not going to let that stop me from telling this story. Continue Reading »

Ziggy’s Diary: 32

Not cholera. Typhoid. I’m here for another two weeks, they say. The fever is down but there are various reasons why they have to keep my here. I have only grasped the bare minimum. They don’t talk to me much. Maybe I’m contagious, still? Continue Reading »

Ziggy’s Diary: 31

A month since I last wrote. A month.

I can explain. The problem with lies is that they can become the truth. This happens to me often, and always has. I would lie to stay out of school, for example, tricking my mother into thinking I had a fever by sipping her coffee when she wasn’t looking and then putting a thermometer into my mouth. At least once, the next morning, I woke up with a real fever and then was out for a week with the flu. Did I bring it on myself? Or had I somehow known I was getting sick and that was why I wanted to stay home in the first place? Continue Reading »