Alien Daze in Roswell,
New Mexico
by Richard
Gilewitz
Apparently I am an alien. Normally this would be a preposterous
statement - unfounded, ludicrous, and far beyond grandiose.
During my July 2005 tour of the American West however, evidence
began to build to support this statement. As more facts continued
to be revealed, I found myself capping off my tour by performing
in Roswell, New Mexico during the International Alien Convention.
Somehow it had been brought to the attention of the members
of the "mother ship" that I was suffering from another "episode".
They were concerned when they realized I had scheduled my tour
to start in Bozeman, Montana, yet purchased an airline ticket
to Boise, Idaho. The fact that I designed the tour to start
in Montana and finish up in New Mexico via Idaho and Texas further
alerted "them" to the fact that something had gone askew. I
was undaunted by the prospect of driving the 500-mile trek that
would take me to my first date, but my caretakers immediately
began to send me subliminal positive messages that help was
on the way.
At some point in the tour I became severely disoriented and
could not find my performance venue. Panicked (a hobby of mine),
I phoned the promoter who promptly asked, "Where are you?" This
seems to be a common question for humans to ask when they realize
you are lost, while not realizing that you are, uh, LOST! Fortunately
my celestial buddies promptly interceded again by quickly mounting
a giant blue gorilla on top of a Honda dealership to serve as
my point of reference.
Concern from above was elevated to red level when it was noted
in my "file" that on the front page of my web site I continue
to claim I am from "Planet Richard, Population 1." They exclaimed,
"How arrogant!" (although it was also noted in my file that
- "Yeah, but he's a musician!"). Looking at my history of releasing
a CD entitled Voluntary Solitary followed by Synapse Collapse,
plus a brief acting stint as Agent Cupcake in an independent
film titled Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction, the panel decided
to send top agent John Escobido to facilitate my rescue.
Disguised as both Operations Manager of Ginsberg Music in Roswell
and a universe-class percussionist, John came to my assistance
seconds after his arrival on Earth - as he quickly adjusted
to our atmosphere. During a scorching 108-degree day, his assignment
was to remind me of who I was, where I was from, and what was
expected of me.
My assignment, John gently reminded me, was to tour internationally
and to eventually complete a book called Acoustic Fingerstyle
Guitar Workshop, which would contain as many "considerations"
as possible to the frequent questions of guitar players - complete
with music, an instructional DVD and CD. I had been instructed
to somehow convince Mel Bay Publications to release and distribute
this book. If I could accomplish this project, I could continue
my services here on Earth or have the option of returning home
to begin a new career of tuning 12-string guitars throughout
the galaxy.
Thank goodness that Mel Bay Publications released the
book this spring, saving me from eternal tuning. I jumped
at the chance to celebrate by inviting John to join me for a
couple of tunes during my performance.
Satisfied that I had finally been reoriented, John sent me
on my way with a reminder to check in with Headquarters in Roswell,
housed in a building cleverly disguised as a museum.
