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Sunday, March 20, 2011

Doin' My Time With The Border Patrol!

Dear readers, I apologize for my lack of activity this month, there are many reasons I could give, but instead, I will take action. Here is an update on my life and the state of the world in general. Consider this assorted BS. First of all, I would like to dedicate this to the staff at both the Canadian and American side of the Washington State/British Columbia Peace Arch Border. You are all truly wonderful people. If I never see any of you again, my life will be complete. Both of the crossings were fraught with peril, mysterious, and overall dreadful affairs, and both with their unique set of darkly comical elements.

Canadian: It seems that all 11 Canadians who do not smoke marijuana have been given guns, tazers, and full control of inspecting cars and drivers at this checkpoint. My first mistake was telling them I am a professional musician. If I told them I was a professional rapist I might have had an easier time. In fact I imagine that the border guard might have even had some suggestions for popular rape locations within the province. Instead I was assured that they did not care whether or not I used drugs. At the same time they repeatedly asked me this question. Afraid to say that I ate a Tylenol that morning to ward off a hangover, I just said no. Are you sure? Yes. Do you play music on the street? It seems that American street musicians have been making off with untold millions in Canadian loonies, equivalent to the GNP of Cambodia. I was unaware. After searching my car, and failing to notice the camera which was sitting on the front seat, the thick necked border guard (this was the thick necked man, the woman was in the booth) asked again if I was going to be playing music. When I informed him that I indeed had no musical instruments in the vehicle he somehow managed to remember. I was shaking when I left, a combination of coffee, lack of substantial breakfast, and having an officer with a gun repeatedly ask me why I was nervous. Thank you Canadian border guards, you are "special."

Americans: I left Vancouver from the set of Twilight Breaking Dawn around 3:30 in order to get to Seattle by a reasonable time. Comical as it may seem, I though I might be able to slip past the watchful eye of the Homeland Security Puppetry and Dildo Division by lying. I told the woman at the booth that I was a welder for Olsson MFG (my former job) and she asked no further questions. She then said I needed to pull to the side for a "random" inspection. It seems that if you look like you are cool you are screwed at the border.

(I forgot to mention that a gasoline canister had spilled in Vancouver and I had been driving with the windows open to prevent death by fume inhalation. I was concerned that they might think I was high. So somewhat nervous, I entered the building)

Inside the building there were two lines. I looked at the slip of paper I had been given and tried to determine which one I needed to be in. I finally got in the longer of the two, because I am that stupid. In the end it took far longer and we were actually made to stand in the other one anyway. Behind me a man came in and asked a bald, experienced looking guard which line he was supposed to stand in. The guard said he didn't know what the difference was. He said either one would work, though at the beginning of the line there was a placard which clearly indicated that they were indeed different. The man behind me chose the other and was probably gone an hour before me. For future reference, choose the shorter line.

Like the Canadian side, the guards took their sweet time looking at the paperwork and processing people. In this instance there were 20 computer monitors that could have been used, and about two officers processing at a rate of perhaps one person every 30 minutes. From all indications the empty computers are dedicated to Farmville and pornography, and are not to be used for any other purpose. It was about 15 minutes that I stood in the line before another cool looking guy walked up behind me. In the 90 minutes that we were standing there we talked about bands we were in, movies and artists we liked, and it was revealed that we were both bloggers (here's to you Seth!). After 90 minutes, we were sent to the other line, by a smug looking guard who was just about to go on break (he had been reading a Dick, Jane and Spot book behind a porno computer). Another 20 minutes and I was ordered to stand in front of a tired looking guard named "Abalone" or something. He was trying to get the attention of another guard who was coughing, by saying repeatedly "it's cause they smoke in the booth. Jones smokes in the booth." When I asked if that was illegal, his glassy eyes looked up and he informed me that it was, and that they don't have very good hiring standards at the border. He was so tired I probably could have loosed my rage right there and it would have been fine. Instead I just answered the few questions he asked me. he wasn't even listening.

Poor Seth had drawn the slow horse. His guard was an Chinese man in his 50's named Li. He was on a mission to extract every possible bit of information that he could from Seth. Asking how he was traveling if he had quit his job (I assume because he had saved money and because he didn't have to go to work). He wanted to know why he wanted to go to Oregon, and Seth said he was moving from Arizona because of the weather. Of course the man was damn near impossible to understand, and probably thought he was some sort of general in an army of the Han dynasty instead of stationed outside of Blaine Washington at the Peace Arch. Abalone did a search of my vehicle (after taking 12-15 minutes to put on hat, gloves and jacket to go out into the bracing 60 degree weather) and I was released. As Seth has not found me on Facebook, it can safely be assumed that he is still at the border.

Well, I hate to inform you that the general report I was going to give has been overtaken by the dedication. I love you border patrol, may your children all become musicians. And live at home their entire lives. And may your necks grow ever thinner and shoulders less stout. Sincerely, Buzzsaw

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Someone fell for it. Glad it wasn't you!

The beauty about Craigslist is that it allows one to research a place without actually going there. As they say, take a trip and never leave the farm (which was a line from song called Wildwood Weed, an ode to psychadelics). Today I have transported myself to Adelaide Australia. The city of churches. I don't know if the two people I feature go to those churches, if they do they should pray for more brains. Here is the story.

I went to the personal postings, and it seems that in Adelaide folks have other ways to meet people there were only a handful of posts. Luckily one of them was this:

Wealthy International Businessman etc etc etc - 45 (Adelaide)


Date: 2011-03-09, 12:43AM CST
I'd just like to warn people of a man posting on CL such things as "Wealthy International Businessman" arrived from places like the French Riviera. Please do not reply, he is a convicted conman and I'd hate people to be caught out like I was.

What amazed me was the fact that someone would fall for something like this in the first place. I was also amazed that the person admitted it. I can only guess that it is actually some kind of accomplice because how would they know that the conman had been convicted...Maybe it is being used to trick people who have a fetish for being conned...strange and funny. It was interesting as well that three entries down I found this:

Arrived from France wealthy Int Bussinessman (Adelaide)


Date: 2011-02-21, 1:00AM CST
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Have been in this wonderful city 8mths,have yet to meet a woman
that can capture my attention or desire to feel fulfilled in mind and body.If you have a presence that stops the world then send me words and a recent photo that might stop mine.Not interested in dreamers or bull shit,keep it real,honest and raw,must be addicted to living and love travel,the ocean,the french riviera and Definatly not stuck in Vanilla.If you want to live life no regrets laugh,dance,eat,sing,drink good wine,explore the places no one wants you to see,love passion,hunger for wild lust without fear,then be brave nothing ever happens without effort and a change.YES? Give me something worth reading,No photo No response,not that hard to understand is it.
After reading it I am shocked that anyone who even has the mental capacity to turn on a computer and operate the internet would fall for it. It starts big and gets bigger. First off, I would guess that most wealthy businessman can spell businessman correctly. I also find it fishy that a man of his wealth and obvious class could remain anywhere for 8 months and not meet a lady that can captivate him. Also "Just Arrived From France" 8 months ago? How is that "just arriving" it doesn't even make sense! His charm is evident throughout with lines like "Not interested in dreamers or bull shit,keep it real,honest and raw,must be addicted to living and love travel,the ocean,the french riviera and Definatly not stuck in Vanilla." how can you not be blown away! He is quite clearly a wealthy businessman, so I guess his insistence on "no dreamers" makes loads of sense. One can just imagine him dictating this to his secretary who probably is in love with him, but doesn't stand a chance because she doesn't have "hunger for wild lust without fear" and she isn't sure if she has "a presence that stops the world." A man like that is one in a million, and common folk should stay away. I think the man is slumming by using craigslist. And yes, I am now quite convinced that the first post was placed there by someone who did not send a picture. I changed my mind, the man is a god to me. Merely mortal Buzzsaw.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Twihard With A Vengeance! Real-time in BC!

I am sitting in a Starbucks across from the Orpheum Theater in downtown Vancouver. They are filming Twilight Breaking Dawn (or wind depending on perspective) in the lobby I believe. Actually I have no idea where in the theater they are filming, all I know is that they are. If I were able to buy a book called "Celebrity Look-a-likes For Dummies" I would. Unfortunately it doesn't exist. Yet. Until I write it I will have to walk around awkwardly. trying to figure out what to do.

I woke up around 8, I should have been outside since 6 am or something. fortunately for me, I can make even the mundane sound interesting, so getting a scoop with set photos is unimportant to me. I just want crazy. I am wearing a shirt that says "Twihards Rule" and I have done two laps around the building. The first time I only blew a couple minds.

I can see the crew and gear on the sidewalk, a lot of them are standing around smoking. The first really great interaction was when I came down an alley from the north side and popped out on a security guard and a big fella. Their eyes nearly popped out of their heads. I needed to check out of my hostel room, so I walked back, talked with some new international friends and got out.

I went to my car to see if it had been towed and put my backpack in. I was greeted by the smell of gas. I somehow knocked over my gas can and the lid popped off. It will be a long drive to Seattle with the windows open, but you want your boy home in one piece right? So suffer I will. Anyway, the second time around the block was even funnier. There are a group of obsessed fans standing around with umbrellas right across the street from me. When I appeared in front of them they all freaked out. But they only stared and talked about me, as if I didn't know. So I hit one with some intense eye contact as I walked past. Then I stopped right up the block and got out the video camera and got some crappy footage. That is what I am currently doing. Camping out on the fringes of Breaking Wind.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Uncanny Resemblance

"You know, you look like Bam Margera!" If you imagine this phrase in an Irish accent and the scene to be a restroom at The Blarneystone in Vancouvers Gaslight District, you will have an idea what last night was like. In fact that was not the first time I was Bam Margera-dentified. I am happy about it. But really I am more twidentified really. In fact I was inspired to write a short list of uncanny similarities between Rob Pattinson and one Buzzsaw Barnes.

I guess a good enough starting point is that Rob is from the Barnes district of London. Its strange enough that he looks so much like me, but did his mum and dad really have to live in a place that is the same as my last name? It's weird. Two sisters. Both of us. Although he is youngest and I am in the middle it is still uncanny. I think even stranger than that is our hobbies and passions.

The fact that we both play guitar is not so odd. Literally billions of people belong to the "guitar army." What is truly weird is that we are both good at music. In fact last night while Rob was or was not bedded down with Kristen Stewart, I was jamming with street musicians and making money for them. In fact a group of dudes ran across Granville street by the Sears building to give them money. I ended up playing without a pick and bleeding all over the guitar. That is how I roll. One thing I know is true, it's a good thing I am straight crazy.

We both like to read, which in this day in age is kind of weird. In college I was in a weight training class and the guys I was lifting with were talking about video games (I was Rob's age at this point). They asked me what I thought, and I told them I didn't play video games. Dumbfounded one of the bro's asked what on earth I did if I didn't play video games. I told him I liked to read. He looked at me as if I had a unicorn's horn. It makes me happy that Rob reads too.

Obviously Rob is an actor. Though I have never done any film or play acting, I have done a lot of acting. The venue that I have used is voice acting. I am a radio man. In my opinion there is nothing more fun than creating funny characters and putting them in weird situations. That is what I did on air. We also had a lot of fun recording them for PSA's (public service announcements). What I like about this similarity is that we each have our own style. I am mostly a comic actor/story teller, though I would love to be in crime, western, or war movies. I could not pull off the roles Rob takes, and I am glad. The last thing the world needs is two Edward Cullen's!

Another similarity is that we are both weird. In an interview Rob said he was excited to live in a place with a microwave for the first time and that he was having fun microwaving crazy stuff like carrots. This sounds like a blast! I have lot of weird hobbies and games such as Tubin' which I know might look dumb to women, but guys love it, especially when combined with beer. 10 to 1 odds, I could make a hell of a tuber out of Mr RPattz.

I will finish with this. We were born 7 years apart, but within 23 days of each other. If you know me, I have always though the zodiac signs were a load of crap. I still do. Both Rob and I are Taurus' the bull. I have no idea of our supposed personality traits, but I am sure they are vague, which is why the horoscope seems like it is right.

My hope is that somehow I can trace my lineage to some kind of common relative. If I were even a cousin 100 times removed I would immediately claim it and I would make a ton of money. It would make my life really easy. Perhaps some of my Barnes relatives had some kind of ancient minstrel relative that is also related to Rob. I am not banking on this, but it would be really nice.

In closing, I am really glad that Rob is a seemingly really nice and humble guy. He is obviously talented. I am cheering for him and really hoping that his next couple movies will establish him as something beyond Twilight. I think he is going to do it. Really we are both in the same situation. Except for the fact that I am poor and relatively unknown, and did not actually appear in Twilight. We both think Stephanie Meyer is crazy too! Rob's opinion. Buzzsaw's opinion. Anyway, much love and respect to my fake younger brother. If you want to mess with him you will have to watch out for me. I do not fight fair either. Have a wonderful day, Buzzsaw.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Prayer For Japan

"You have a Japanese soul." A simple statement. I can't even remember who said it. I think it could have been at the country bar in Fukouka. I was drinking whiskey with a Japanese bluegrass band called "Back In Business." They liked my songs, and I liked them. "Your Japanese is very good. And very strange." These guys really knew me. I wasn't even speaking Japanese, just broken English with a Japanese accent. They just thought it was Japanese, I guess it was in a way. That night I played a song I wrote for a young Japanese country singer who reminded me of an Asian Patsy Cline. Dear Rosey, won't you play another song for me. I wrote it in a hotel room in Kumamoto. Finally resting after my late nights playing at Goodtime Charlie Nagatani's club.

It was the day after I was invited to play at a small festival on Aso mountain. Me and Buddy (Charlie's debauched fiddle player) had driven 3 hours after being up most of the night. I broke three strings during my short set. I also said "Itadakimasu" after a song, which means thank you. Thank you for food. Woodie Guthrie they called me. my Japanese mother adopted me the first time I met her. Gotou-chan, I will return to Kyowa's Coffe shop in Kumamoto. We will drink a glass of whiskey together and I will play a song for you. And since you are my Japanese mother you can then cook me dinner.

I had a Japanese soul as a kid. I was captivated by the stories of feudal Japan. Castles and samurai. The architecture speaks to me. The simplicity. In a Japanese painting every line counts. They were all put there on purpose. Flower arrangements. I didn't even have any Japanese friends and I still loved it. But that would change.

I started volunteering with ESL speakers at 19 and I have kept at it pretty much ever since. I started to learn Japanese from the students. Funny things. I wanted to learn about obscure celebrities. Kitajima Saburo. The Japanese Frank Sinatra. My Japanese father. With good timing, you trick a Japanese college like this. They ask you what you like. Music you say. Oh I like music too! What kind of music do you like? Oh many kinds. I play guitar. Oh sugoi (amazing!). I like American music, but I like Japanese music too! Eh? This always comes as a surprise. What kind of Japanese music do you like? Enka. EHHH!?? ENKA!!!!???? This a pretty big surprise. Then I say that I love Sabu-chan. I tell them he is my favorite musician. It gets them every time because the likelihood of anyone under 50 attending one of his concerts is very low. I should know because I went to one and there were three of us. The girl that got me the ticket, myself, and some poor kid who got dragged there by his mom.

Japan did I mention that I love you? Your people have housed me, fed me, given me wonderful presents, celebrated my birthdays, and given me more love than I deserved. Your pain is hard to bear. I will not cry because I am writing this in a coffee shop in Vancouver BC. It is tough trying to pretend that hunting down celeb's is important at all when I read of the devastation you are suffering. If I could, I would be living in Japan. I almost applied to teach your children this year. I promise I will return, and I will give back as much as I can. To all my Japanese friends, I love you, Ian-san, Iya-Ian, Sabu-Chan jr, and I forget what else you called me.

PS-I miss you Naomi and Sachiko, Rei, Yosuke, Ryosuke, Buddy, Charlie, Jordan & Marina, and the list goes on. Rieko I pray that you do not still work at Disney Sea, I hope you are all safe. Your friendship means so much to me.