Got a call on the weekend, only just checked the message today. It was someone at the gym, calling to tell me that someone named Bajan had called them because they found my wallet and he was holding on to it at his french fry truck. I went down to retrieve it today and it was all intact, minus the cash and metropass (but that's to be expected, really). Thanks Bajan, thanks gym, and thanks God/Jesus/the universe!
At long last, the in-depth report of our trip to Chicago!
The personnel: me, Mars, Divvy, and Zen.
We started on the road at 4 AM on Thursday morning. We got to Chicago in the afternoon, checked into the hotel, and got the table set up in the Artist Alley of the convention in time for it to open for Preview Night.
Here is the view of our aisle from our table:
And here is our table once it was all set up:
We didn't do many sales on Preview Night, nor on the Friday for that matter. Our aisle was a dud. Low energy, our neighbors sneering at us for being silly, there's a million and one reasons why we weren't doing so hot at first.
Later in the day on Friday I was wandering the convention hall and bumped into my buddy Mike Holman from Jackass. He asked how we were doing, and I explained that we are not doing the numbers I would have liked, and that I was thinking about taking over one of the small press or Autograph Area tables that look unclaimed or abandoned. He pointed at one such booth and said "Well I don't have anything to sell! Take mine!"
I quickly ran back to the Artist Alley and explained our good fortune to the rest of our party. We packed up the table and made like a Beatles cartoon running from one end of the hall to the other to get set back up as quickly as possible.
Here is our 2nd table, before the back wall got covered in balloons:
We were using Mike Holman's table, and our neighbors included The Honky Tonk Man, The Iron Sheik, Johnny Fairplay, and Gail Kim.
We were had our booth decorated like a children's birthday party, and we were giving away loot bag toys as sales premiums. As the Honky Tonk Man explained above, these were a big hit and turned our aisle into a big party.
On the Friday night, we were invited to go with Mike Holman and Johnny Fairplay to see a Vanilla Ice concert at a bar called Cans. They had the street beside the bar shut down with a stage set up out there. The crowd overflowed the whole area.
Free Jagermeister shots for everyone in the front row:
Then we hung out backstage....
And after backstage we went up to the afterparty where, upon finding out we were from Canada, everyone wanted to ask us questions and test our trivia knowledge.
We even got serenaded with a rousing rendition of O Canada from the Americans!
Zen is not used to playing with the big kids, but he was keeping up with us. shotgunning beers, doing shots, the whole thing. But when we got back to the hotel and Mars, Divvy and I kept the party rockin' in the lobby of the hotel (the lobby of the hotel is overrun with a huge party every night of the convention), Zen went straight to the room to collapse into bed without even saying good night.
Saturday was the first good day for business. We were selling the "Party Pack", in which you would receive pretty much one of everything Zen and I were selling.
We even came up with a theme song for the Party Pack:
The Honky Tonk Man came to the convention with a suitcase full of beer on the Sunday, which he shared with us. Then we left to go home on Monday, with a stop for Breakfast at IHOP.
And then we got back to Toronto in time to party for Canada Day!
For more photos from the trip: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=30621&l=31bc8&id=514079365
And for more crazy videos: http://www.youtube.com/user/seanward
And now we begin a new one-part series called Too Much Information, in which I lay out insight into the various ways in which I am loopy.
After awaking from a long and refreshing slumber, and a morning spent lazily watching youtube videos and surfing the web in bed, I got myself together and started my trip downtown. I would make two stops: I would go to the Silver Snail to pick up my stuff from last night's party there, and I would stop by the bank to deposit the cash we made at that party. As I gathered my things together to leave (ipod, keys, wallet, sunglasses, etc.), I put the sales money in my front pocket instead of in my wallet. I thought of putting it in my wallet, but didn't.
Right now I am experimenting with a diet by which you limit your intake of certain kinds of foods but eat whatever you want one day per week. My day is Saturday so I treated myself to an order of fries from one of the trucks in front of City Hall. I am quite a connoisseur of those fries and these were some of the best I've ever had. I continued my walk west and as I was passing Osgoode Hall, I passed an old man playing acoustic guitar for change. Earlier this week, I passed him going the other way on the other side of the street and he was playing the Law & Order theme song. I really wished that I had been on his side of the street so I could give him money. Now that he was right here, I thought "I should give him five bucks!" as I passed. Then I shifted my focus to the pocket in which I carry my wallet. It felt I little light. I reached into it. Empty. I dug through the rest of my pockets. Nothing. I raced back to the chip truck to see if I had left it there. No dice. The truck operator suggests it may have fallen under the truck. Of course it didn't fall under the truck but I crouch down and look any way, even though I know I won't find it there. I pace around some, looking all over the ground, zig-zagging as I try to retrace my steps.
By the time the realization set in that it was gone, I was reaching the same old man playing guitar. I asked myself what I'm supposed to be learning from a bum deal like this and the answer that came from the ether was that I needed to backtrack so that I would pass the man with the guitar again because I really need to give him five bucks. So I reached into the pocket containing the money from yesterday's comic book sales, pulled a fiver out of it, and laid it into the old man's guitar case.
Check it out! It's like returning home! Tomorrow night (Thursday, May 1) I'll be appearing on Carlito's Mad House to talk about the new record and perform some prank calls.
The show is on at 10 PM Eastern at www.madhouselive.com (LISTEN NOW is the second link in the main menu) and simulcast on 98.6 The Mouth FM.
This Paid to Party record is the culmination of a big research project I undertook for a comic book. You know that I have a cartoon band that I create stories around, and I've got this huge story for them that I have been working on for... oh, it's got to be four years or more. This is going to be a huge thing about love, art, friendship, loyalty, creative vision, and the nature of reality. Sound like a big undertaking, hey? But when I would sit down to write it, I would realize that I still had more living to do.
I like my comics to be silly, but I think that what people respond to about them is the fact that there's a stream of truth that runs through them. Even though the story is going to be over-the-top, the portrayal of the music business has to be believable, being that the mechanics of The Changing Color's business are so central to the story. I have been front-row-centre to the entertainment industry for a long time, thanks to my connections in the Beatle world. I'd read lots and talked to a lot of movers and shakers. I'd even been in the inner circle of a few people who were negotiating record contracts with major labels. But I had to have the direct experience from the band's point of view. I had to know how it all comes together. I had to know about recording, playing shows, going on tour. I had to bridge that knowledge gap between the artist and the label.
At this point, I feel pretty confident that I could manage a band quite successfully if I wasn't so busy being an Artist. And at the end of the day, that's why I don't go be a manager, even though I know I could do it well. I have a calling, I am compelled to do the work that I do, and that right there is the crux of this big story that I'm going to tell with The Changing Color. And Mr. Lollipop. And the Queen, and Arthur Puctenbowler, and maybe even Benny Bunny.
And speaking of Benny Bunny, I am up to page 22 on Benny Bunny On Wheels. I think that the main story is going to be about 36 pages, and the book will be about 48. Man, if this was one of my series books, I would be finished already because those were only twenty pages!
PAID TO PARTY might sound like something boastful, but really it's a statement about how we're naturally supposed to live. We're supposed to experience joy every day and we're supposed to get money from doing what we would have been happy to do for free. I'm just doing my part for this movement that's afoot right now. I have hidden a success manual in the songs on PAID TO PARTY. Some of it was me recollecting struggles that I've been through, and some of it was me setting an intention, much of which has come to pass since I laid it down. The lay-person will enjoy rocking their party with this record. And those who watch The Secret or What the Bleep Do We Know over and over again, who know who Esther Hicks is, or who still believe in Santa Claus will find something special for them woven into it.
I once listened to a Tony Robbins seminar where he was talking about how you have to understand that you're always going to have problems. So the trick is not to try to eliminate problems, it's to improve the quality of your problems.
On that note, I'm trying to work on this new comic book while maintaining my responsibilities to the TV work that's keeping the bills paid. I get to thinking about how much I would love to not have to worry about anything else aside from getting this book done, and I get nostalgic for the days when I was hustling comic books on the street. But even then, my attention was distracted elsewhere by the fact that I didn't know where the rent was coming from and the fact that I had to interupt the creative flow to go out and sell. It's all challenges, just now it's a higher quality of challenge.
Funny how something as simple as drawing a hand a certain way can make my whole day.
It's crazy how the streets are fiending for this new comic book. I think I've already blogged about how as soon as I started feeling like I had a story I needed to tell in the comic book form, people started to stop me in the streets to ask when I was going to put a new comic book out. I even go into the Silver Snail and the clerk is telling me that people come in and ask them when a new Sean Ward book is coming out. Today I went to the gym and as I'm opening a locker, a voice behind me asks if I'm still making comics. I turn around and it's some guy who used to buy comics on the street from me. He recognized me, even though he hasn't seen me in years and hasn't followed my exploits in other media. We chatted a bit and I gave him the run-down of what I've been up to. And with any luck, I got him hype for Benny Bunny On Wheels. Then when I got home, I found a Facebook add from a girl who used to be one of my biggest supporters all through when I was putting out new comics, but who also hasn't been around since then. And now she's asking me about it. This goes on constantly, almost daily. It would almost be eerie if it wasn't so cool!
It's funny, the weird cycles that things go in. I haven't made a new comic book in over two years because of how burned out I was on the whole thing. I grew to dislike the qualities that trying to compete in the comic book scene was bringing out of me. But now, the more I get back into putting out a new comic book, the more I feel like the real me is flourishing for the first time in ages. I think that's because I am reconnecting with the spirit in which I was creating comics when I first started doing it seriously. In the beginning, I wasn't concerned about getting mentioned on the comics websites. I didn't care about attending the conventions. I was just making something I thought was cool and trying to show it to people. And that's how I feel now about this new one. For a long time, my output was too much about trying to prove something. That's when the motivation is coming from an egocentric place. And nothing that comes from an egocentric place ever works out well in the long run.
It's ten to six in the morning, and I am still up. I am waiting to see if this is going to be an all-nighter, or if I am going to crash around dawn. I am not asleep because I got the fever several hours ago and I have been having a creative explosion that I just sat down to take a break from by playing my piano, and now typing in this. The new comic book is shaping up to be this huge epic, I just hope that it doesn't get too huge. I was aiming for it to be about 48 pages, but it looks like it could go as high as 64, or somewhere in between. The way I'm creating this one, it will just reveal itself on it's own damn time.
Are there any really old-school hardcore fans out there who remember Atomic Man? I have not done anything with him in ages and ages. He's going to be in the new book.
This creative burst is coming as part of some manic episode. Something happened to me last Thursday that sent me crashing into a really deep... I don't want to say depression, but I was definitely in a bad place emotionally. That lasted for four days until yesterday, when I started getting back to work after taking it easy since the last TV tapings.
It's a good time for ideas right this second, and I guess I just don't want to go to bed for fear of missing one.
Hip Hop Karaoke. What a great night out. I went on three times tonight and rocked it each one. There's a bunch of people that go up in there every month and give everything they've got and make it hot: Gersh, Rhino, Kagen, Sherry, V, RaSoul, SplatterMonkey & Sandra, the Wu-Tang boys. And all of the lovely ladies that come out dressed to the nines.
I spent all week rehearsing two songs: COME CLEAN by Jeru the Damaja, and GOLD DIGGER by Kanye West. Both of my appearances were in rapid succession so at the end of the night, several drinks in and shouting along to everything, I was dismayed at my having no further songs in the queue. As the night began to circle in for a landing, I asked Dalia if I might rock one more song. She said she could put me on at the end if I could pick one right away. So it was to be THE HUMPTY DANCE, and it was hot.
Last night I had the divine pleasure of being accompanied by two lovely ladies for a screening of Ratatouille. The movie was fucking fantastic, both technically and artistically. There are spots where you look at the hair on the rats or the people, or the water in certain scenes, and it looks dead-on. They nailed it. But that wasn't even the most impressive thing about it.
The most impressive thing about the movie was the way it just dripped with passion for the message, the story, and the desire to please the audience. About half-way through the movie I got to thinking that this is a staple of all of Pixar's output. They blow the competition away every time out. When you look at what the competition is doing, there's a different feeling. Those movies are entertaining enough, and they end on an up note more often than not, but there's just an inescapable feeling that it's product. But Pixar is able to maximize their output as capital-A Art every time out. They take chances, they go the extra mile, and the work stands out as something really special while the rest are content to produce something that's 'good enough'. John Lasseter (the boss at Pixar) is never content with 'good enough', he's not even content with great. He doesn't rest until it's The Best.
This got me really passionate last night, as it's a subject I can relate to. I've alluded before to a big project I'm undertaking that's under wraps. The thing's been in-process for over a year now, and we reached a major turning point just over a month ago. The last year has been one long conversation between me and the (now former) producer about how one needs to go the extra mile I've just described if one wants to create something truly special. The milestones when the project leaped ahead and saw real, sudden progress were all when the work was coming from the heart, when we were willing to stay up late, to work through the weekend, to just do whatever it takes to do the job right. Unfortunately, most of the last year was spent working from the head, trying to outthink what some potential prospect was going to want to see down the road, and thinking that 'good enough' is good enough. Thankfully my business partner and I have control back, and may we never forget that creating something timeless is just as important as creating it in time.
So last night, after spending the evening laughing and bullshitting with Human Kebab and Ebony and Chris B. Chicken, I caught a cab home. The guy's driving was crazy, I felt like I was in the backseat of a racing car. I loved it, it was great fun. By the time he dropped me off, the meter was at $17 and change. I complimented him on his driving skills and handed him two twenties, and said I needed $15 back (I'm a big tipper, it's just something I enjoy). He handed me back $25, my $15 with an extra ten. I noticed it, said to myself "score!", and shoved the bills in my pocket. But after he handed me the receipt, I pulled the bills back out and brought attention to his error. He was very thankful as I gave him back that extra ten bucks. The old me would have kept that ten, but that's not what I'm on about these days. The feeling of good karma going out was worth way more than ten dollars.
So it turns out that I wasn't just talking smack when I wrote the lyrics for The Pop That I Rock, specifically the last line of the first verse: "...and it be Sean Ward on your MTV."
I was flipping the channels the other night and as I passed MTV, it was E2 that was on and what do I see? The picture of me that Caitlin Cronenberg took, the one with the beach balls, blazing across my screen.
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