Zach Deputy Tour BlogConnecting the ZD family to the ups and downs of the road

Did I tell you my tooth hurts last week? It still hurts. But what can you do right?

Ok, Alison, are you ready?

So there’s this fly flying around the green room. And it’s a really big fly. You know, you can tell when it’s like a grandpa fly cause it’s just a little bit fatter and slower than the baby fly. Much easier to smack out of the air. Or catch with your hand like a ninja. Or chop sticks. Held by your nostrils. Like i did. How come flies can’t fly in a straight line? Why did they name a fly fly? Shouldn’t they name a bird fly and a fly bug. Bug is the most intelligent name of all, i think. All the instects that come from larvae and metamorphosize into another creature just amaze me. I was playing disc golf the other day and I went to go scratch my neck, and there was something on it, so I grabbed it with my ninja griplock and threw it to the ground. Then I realized it was a defenceless little caterpillar and felt very guilty because I might prevent it from becoming a beautiful butterfly. Being a butterfly is like being a caterpillar that hits puberty. Except for when humans hit puberty they just look weird and awkward. With lots of pimples on their face. Looking like a pepperoni pizza. Anyways, Brian just came in the room talking about numbers again. Does that mean you want me to get out so you can work? I just repeated what he said. And then he said wait, what? You’re cool, Brian, by the way. I don’t know where your binder is. Brian’s gonna end up being like Jim Carey in the movie 23. Whatever happened to Jim Carey? Is he still around? He was my favorite. Canada makes some funny guys. Canada’s funny. Oh Canada. Brian just left. Ok, so what’s new in my world? Let’s see…. I’ve still been trying to run every week. That’s been great.

You’re really going to like this. Well, I don’t know if you’re really going to like this but I assume you’re really going to like this. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them before but: Five Fingered shoes. It’s a shoe that fits on your foot like a glove. These things are awesome. I went walking in a river today. Brian thinks I moved his binder. But yeah, I went walking in a river today. It was nice. I feel like a ninja. I went hiking in them – they were great. They are so awesome up and down mountains. Brian you must have took it upstairs. He’s still looking for his binder.

Where were we at? Oh yeah, super excited about them. They look like an alien to people. Side note: i have a bunch of loonies and toonies left over from Canada. And I seriously accidentally offended the bank clerk the other day. I walked up into the Bank of America to exchange some Canadian cash and I asked the lady how she was doing today while she was counting. She said “excuse me, sir, i’m trying to count the money.” The end.

This grandpa fly is just going crazy.

Anyways, back to the story: the lady took her oddly small hands and started counting the money again. Then trying to cheer the mood, I said “So, I shouldn’t talk now, right?” She looked at me like a very angry alien. I say this because her head was shaped very odd. Small chin, bigger cheeks, then gradually getting larger and larger towards the brain part. I was wondering why such a big head with such a little brain? She clearly didn’t understand that I was just joking. Again she said, “I’m trying to count the money, sir, if you could please stop talking.” So I tried to make her smile one more time and I did the mime zipper thing, locked the lock and put it in my pocket. I got a beautiful little roll of the eye, which took about twenty seconds longer than a normal eye roll, because she had alien eyes so there was more distance. Sensing her frustration with me I said nothing. She counted the money, walked into the back to ask a question of some lady and walked back out. She had extremely yellow hair. Not really blonde, and not really golden, but resembling the colour of a banana. She had no real eyebrows. They were penciled in the colour of really dark brown or black – I couldn’t figure it out. Loads of mascara to the point of clumpiness. Despite the fake eyebrows and clumpy eyelashes and her hair looking like a banana, I thought the hair color was real and I was amazed by the fact that it was so yellow. When she came back, I don’t know why, with the intention of cheering up the mood and making small talk again, this grandfather fly is huuuge. I’m sorry. I asked her, “Is that your real hair color?” I should have learned from the previous social cues that normal small talk and cheering up do not work with this lady. It would only result in anger directed towards me. She began to get loud. “Are you messing with me?” she said, very loudly. “No,” I replied. “But seriously, are you messing with me?” I didn’t understand at all why her hands were shaking. They were shaking out of anger. This is when I realized that this woman hated me within minutes of meeting me. I could tell she wanted to take one of those pink lollipops and stab me in the armpit with it. And then she proceeded to tell me, “I draw my eyebrows on and put mascara on every morning.” That was her answer. She completely dodged the question. She could be a politician. She has a really big head, very little brain, and she can answer you while dodging the question under pressure. I couldn’t help it. I tried to hold it in. I tried to not make it worse, but if you know me I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I was holding my mouth trying not to laugh. It was one of those times that you realize that you really shouldn’t laugh and you try really hard not to laugh but it just makes the situation worse. You just keep laughing. This was one of the most awkward human interactions I’ve ever had. Now since I’ve made fun of the way she looks, I have to make fun of the way I look. I was wearing swimming trunks, those five fingered shoes I was talking about that look like an alien foot, a red t-shirt with grease stains all over it that’s been left in the dryer a little too long and does not fit me at all – if I lift up my arms, my belly and my belly button come popping out, and when it’s cold, my nipples poke through. What’s up with nipples anyways? I mean I understand why girls have nipples. But guys don’t need nipples. Do you ever get really bored and look in the mirror, and flap your nipple and watch it shrink? Me neither. The end.

Yo. Wait a second. You there? Cool.

Yo it’s zach attack time. Time to bring ya back to the zach attack. That’s a fact. I’m scratching my sac. I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t write that. Anyways, I’m really tired. Canada was a ball. Even though you weren’t there, Alison. Gosh. The end.

This week was fun. We got denied at the border for not having proper permits to get in. That was interesting, and kind of fun. But we made up the day – instead of Monday we played Tuesday and Wednesday in Canada. New Brunswick to be specific. St. John and Moncton to be super specific. We had a great time. I’m glad to be back in the states, though, so we can hopefully play some disc golf tomorrow. I know today is Wednesday, but it feels like today is Sunday. I don’t know… I guess Canada just felt like a weekend. How are you liking the festival, Alison? “Am I writing this?” Sure. Did you write all that down? “No.” That’s our Zach Attack every week. It’s just our conversation: But I don’t really like Ramen noodles.

Anyways, what can I tell you guys that fascinating? I’m back stage right now, ready to get on stage and rock this mother a new orifice. We’re excited to be in Portland tonight, because Brian’s family lives in Portland (Brian’s my tour manager). Brian’s mom always makes the awesomest food. So we know we’re going to get a bunch of food that we don’t need, like cookies, banana bread, raspberry cheesecake, ice cream, ice cream cake thingy. “Remember that time we had that awesome purple pie that looked like it was out of Peter Pan”. Yeah, exactly that’s what I’m talking about: purple peter pan thingy. You’re doing it, Peter, you’re doing it! “I love that movie so much.” It’s a funny movie.

The other perks of borrowing Giggey’s mom as our mom, is that she has a hot tub. It’s always hot and ready to go so after the show we get to detox and chillax. And in the morning we get to play Brian’s miniature disc golf course. “Brian’s such a nerd”. Yup yup. He has self named it the Giggey Par Eight.

The end. We just ramble for a minute and then just say the end, when it’s like I don’t know what to do. I have a tooth ache again, it sucks. I have to brush my teeth.

I do want to tell everybody that when we got turned away from Canada on Sunday and forced to stay in Calais, ME, that I got so bored I bought a bottle of cologne. I think it’s the most bored I’ve been in a long time. That town is boring. That town is bringing back small talk. But it’s kind of good to be bored, because when you get really bored, you start to do things that are creative and different than you’re used to. Like doing front flips on air mattresses. “You did that?” Yeah. Ok, maybe not complete front flips… maybe more like front rolls.  And sliding down stairs on your stomach. At our hotel. We were really bored. “Did everybody do it?” Nope, I was the only one. I tried to get everybody to do all kinds of weird activities but nobody did any. “You’re the weirdest”. Yup, this is true. I’m also trying to bring back freestyle walking, cause it’s the coolest. It’s like doing tricks off your feet, like you’re on a skateboard or something, but you don’t have a skateboard. Right now, I’m watching our friend brother Kyle crushing some nachos. “Is it epic?” He’s got one chip in his hand a time, and in the other hand he has a bottle of Frank’s Hot extra extra spicey, dowsing it on every chip individually. Quite enetertaining if you ask me. Which makes me wonder: how come when you eat really spicey food it makes you sweat when it’s going down, and it makes you sweat when it’s coming out, but what the hell is going on in between? It’s a mystery.

My finger nails are dirty.

I like tourtles.

Yes!! That’s the name of my band. “Should I write that?” No, I’ve got lots of band names… but you can write whatever you want. Speaking of bands, I’m gonna start a band and it’s gonna be awesome, i just don’t know who’s going to play in it yet.

This past weekend was a blast. It’s so refreshing coming back east after being gone for such a long time. Especially after traveling through that whole part of the country that has more wild raccoons than human population. Are there raccoons in the Midwest? Anyway, I guess the closer I get to the east coast, the more I feel at home, the more comfortable I am and the more ready I am to let loose. This weekend was fun. Cleveland and Pittsburgh – we had a good throw down. We played a new venue in Pittsburgh called the Rex. I really enjoyed that place. It was a lot of fun. We played at Nietzsche’s in Buffalo and ordered way too much pizza. I don’t really like pizza unless it has pineapples on it, and I think it’s funny because either people hate pizza with pineapple on it, or they love it. There’s really not too much in between. So let me know if you love the pineapple pizza or you hate the pineapple pizza.

I’m tired, i need to get off this daggum couch.

It’s getting close to festie season. Only problem is, it’s still freezing. Let’s hope that spring actually happens this year. I mean I know it’s happening down south, but it was snowing yesterday. What’s up with that? Looking at my schedule for this summer, it’s exciting but exhausting. I’m really not home enough at all. There’s like three months straight where I don’t go home. I mean I love playing music, but I don’t like it that much. Sometimes I toil with the thought: am I running my business, or is my business running me? It’s exciting – we’re finally at the point where the business is making enough money to pay some of the loans that we took out to keep the business running. At the first of the month, it’s always a tug-o-war. If I pay this person I can’t pay the other person. Then the other person gets mad that I paid the other person. So I gotta keep playing music to keep paying people. In a weird way, sometimes it can feel like a prison. You’re taking one of the things that you love most, and instead of doing it just because you love it, you do it because you really have no other choice. And though it hasn’t already, I hope and pray that the business side of music doesn’t make me resent it in the end. In my opinion, if I had the money, I would make the greatest albums of all times. Every single album that I’ve made has been over rushed and underfinanced. Squeezing in four days to rush an album and then jumping back on the road so I can keep making money. Money is the strangest thing, isn’t it? I don’t really believe in money – a society based on paper notes, backed by no true substance. And even more scary than paper notes: computer digits that pay someone’s wages. Scarier still: private people are the ones who regulate what it’s worth and what it’s not worth. Wouldn’t that be a heck of a job? Hey man, what do you do for a living? Better rather: hey man, what do you do to make money? I print it. What should be reality is we all supply our services for services. Or substance for substance. Or substance for services. I play a show, you give me some rubies, I take the rubies I get some food, blabla blabla blabla. Anyways, I can’t wait for the day that at the end of the month there aren’t twenty people waiting on me to throw them a bone. And I can’t wait for the day that I can build a studio to record albums the way I want to record albums.

Let’s do this! Are you guys ready? Zach attack all up in yo face!

Sorry there was no Zach Attack last week, I was sick as a mule with a carrot up its butt. Sicker than a Tito Puente drum solo… that’s pretty sick. I always forget what it’s like to be really sick, until I’m really sick again. Man, it sucks. Especially when you can’t stop and rest. All I wanted to do was eat chicken noodle soup and watch the Price is Right. I also completely lost my voice. Which is awful for being a singer. For those who caught the San Francisco show, I became a professional grunter that night – I grunted and gurgled my ass off. I remember at the beginning of the show I reached for my first note and it didn’t come out right. I remember saying to myself: Oh shit. It reminds me of that song… I can’t remember who’s song it is. The hook goes: it’s too late to turn back now. Except for the following line goes: I believe I’m falling in love. You’d have to change that to: I believe I’m losing my voice. Anyways, for the last week or so I’ve been grunting at my shows. My voice is starting to come back. I’m just glad to not feel sick. The flu is the worst.  But it’s funny how going through so much hell can make you appreciate the small things in life, like just the ability to get out of bed, to walk and talk – the simple things that you take for granted. Maybe I’ll buy a coat next time I come up to the mountains. Me and my crew are gangster – nobody had proper clothing. None of us are apt for winter.

Moving on to another subject: we’ve been really good about eating healthy on the road lately, for the last month or two. But today, with the lack of time and absolute lack of any good options, we ate Taco Hell. What’s up with Taco Hell anyways? What is in that Taco Hell that makes you taste it in your mouth every time you burp for over twenty-four hours? If you taste something in your mouth for more than sixteen hours after you ate it, and it’s not garlic, it should be illegal. But anyways, here I am in L.A. – about to rage the show. Tired. Nursing the end of this cold. But finally singing again. Overall, I’m gonna miss California when I fly out on Saturday. Talk to y’all next week.

I’m standing on a balcony in Park City, UT, admiring the sights. It’s gorgeous. Right now I’m looking at soft rolling mountainous hills, mixed with short brushy trees and snow. Looking at this old rustic, ritzy looking town. The snow filled rooftops. Most of the people are families, which is kind of a relief. There’s not enough get togethers anymore where it’s all ages. Grandmas telling old stories. Grandpas playing tricks on little kids. Teenagers sneaking outside, getting into trouble. I don’t know maybe it’s just me – but whatever happened to big family? Times when the noises ceased to stop. You’d hear laughing, pans being dropped in the kitchen, arguments, kids’ footsteps running through the halls, moms yelling slow down, as they talk about uninteresting things with their sisters. The good ol’ days, where everything was happening and all at once, which on the surface may seem stressful, but deep inside I think they’re in times where you don’t think you need anything or desire to seek anything. More and more nowadays, you see ages segregated from each other. Don’t believe me? Why don’t you go to Shoney’s on Sunday morning. Count the gray hairs. The statistics are unbelievable! Why don’t you go to different bars, different music venues. You’ll see they’ll follow a guideline that’s most likely towards a certain age group. Just like certain genres attract certain ages. Like the age group for electronica – a lot of fifteen to nineteen year olds, and less twenty to twenty-five year olds. And then there’s only a couple of the creepers that are too old. It’s like going to Chuck E. Cheese for the last time, and realizing that you are too big for the slide anymore. Hey Buddy, you’re thirty-nine years old, wearing a tie-dye t-shirt, poppin’ rolls at a show. Cause we all know, without lights and rolls, electronic wouldn’t exist anyways. But my point is, what are you doing at the show, you creeper? Anyways, my point is, what happened to the music that ol’ grandpa Woody and your thirteen year old cousin, Jimmi, and your sister, Sheila, and Uncle Timmy, and that one Asian guy that you forgot his name – oh yeah, his name was Carlos – where they can all get together at the same show, and not feel like creepers? Here’s the kicker: it’s the middle of the day – picture this – you’re stone cold sober, drinking a Capri Sun, and the music is still awesome. I can’t advertise for myself but: Zach Deputy.

Anyways, I’m joking and joshing around. I just really think that all forms of segregation in the human condition, whether it’s race, age, social standing, social classes, or whether you have an extreme amount of facial hair… we should all be able to get together and have fun. I miss the big family. So join the ZD family. Even old guys are welcome, and girls with perfect tan lines (I guess). How did I get on this topic? I guess it’s because I’m looking at all these families running around, and that’s not normal. Quit college. Have some babies. Start living your life.

Are you ready? Write that down. Write that down that I said write that down. I’m not prepared for this at all. So I’m gonna wing it. Like an eagle. Like a bald eagle. Bald eagles aren’t really bald, it’s got white feathers. Whoever named them is a dumbass. Alrighty then. I’m sitting in my truck right now. It is raining in sunny Florida. It’s thirty minutes before showtime. Did I say that i am in Boca? Raton? No, says Alison. Well, I’m in Boca. Raton. We went to the beach and played horse shoes all day yesterday. Oh nice, says Alison. It was a lot of fun. I was a pasty white man before I went on the beach yesterday. But today… I am a pasty white man. Nothing really changed. I know nobody’s gonna think that’s funny. But I did. Know what I like about sun tanning. That it itches. That’s what I like. I like itching. You’re the weirdest, says Alison. You know when I put sun screen on, I have to hit all the very important places: my nose, my cheekbones (cause I’ve got really high cheekbones), my shoulders, and love handles. They always get the most sun. You might say I’m white, but my love handles have a mad tan. I’ve always wanted to tan in the nude. This is a very weird concept, and if somebody could explain this to me, it would be awesome: Why is my ball sac always tanned? It’s true! It’s always tanned. When it’s really hot outside… let’s not go there, never mind. Anyways, uuuuhm… I’m drawing a blank.

On an abrupt change of the subject, the disc golf tournament got switched around. I guess there weren’t enough people registered for the tournament, and the promoter had to back out of the event. But we didn’t want to get your hopes up and leave you dry, so we decided to host it ourselves. We’re all excited about it. It’s going to be fun.

We’re thinking about getting a new car. And just the thought of it stresses me out so much. I claimed that the worst financial decision of my life was buying this RV that was straight from the pits of Hell. There’s a song about it called Nightmare Motor Home. Right now, the truck that I’m currently in has more ailments than Heller Keller. I don’t want to offend her, but I know she can’t read. The steering wheel’s about to pop off. The brakes aren’t working anymore, you have to pump the shit out of them like those old Nike pumps that blew up when you pumped them too much. Does everybody remember those from the nineties? They were like the first hundred and twenty dollar shoe. I had a pair of tennis ones. They were nice. I had a yellow tennis ball pump. How cool are my parents that even though we were dirt shit poor, they bought me those shoes because we wanted them so much, me and my brothers. Just picture me at twelve years old, with my Nike Tennis Pumps on, a paper cap gun, and my Walmart sweat pants and matching sweat shirt. A beardless Zach Deputy, shooting blanks. Anyways, where was I going with all this. Oh yeah… my truck. It’s a nightmare. I’m gonna write a song about it. Oh wait, I already did. I’m gonna write the sequel. We’re looking at buying a Sprinter. It costs a lot of money. But you wanna know what else costs a lot of money? Fixing this truck from Hell. That costs just as much money. Actually more. And I think my life is more important. And if you are reading this, and you do enjoy what we do, please, with all honesty and sincerity, help us keep coming to you by buying some live shows. Help make this next food purchase not so scary for us. Because being a musician is terrifying in general. It all starts with believing in yourself. But you can’t get anywhere if no one else believes in you. But I believe that you believe. And I believe that you believing is gonna make a huge difference. I love you guys. I have to run inside and play this show, and I gotta jump out in the rain to do it. I want to thank everybody because literally, all joking aside, without people believing in what we’re doing over here in ZD camp, I wouldn’t have made it over the last few years. But most importantly, thank God for putting us all together. That’s that.