I can’t believe I’ve jumped on another social networking bandwagon.  That’s right.  I am now a twitter-er (is that what we call someone who twitters?  Or is it “tweets”?).  I find this whole thing ridiculous.  But when I look back on my experience with these kinds of things, I remember that I took forever to get a myspace page (of which I’m on my third one now) and even longer to get a facebook page… I would resist for as long as I could until I just felt left out.  Well… this time I resisted for just a short while and decided to give in to the cultural psychosis of hyperactive social media.

If you’re interested in “following” my tweets… pop on over to www.twitter.com/JeffHawker

Does anybody else laugh at all the new internet lingo that has arisen in the past ten or so years?  When I was a kid, writing on someones wall was considered vandalism, but now it’s just how we say hello.  Terms like “add me” and “comment me” actually make sense to most people, when really they sound like bad grammar.  Whenever I had a dumb questions when I was young, my dad would tell me to look it up (or he’d make up a false answer and I was gullibul enough to believe it, which is why I bowed like a royal prince at the end of my children’s play)… now when I have a dumb question he tells me to “google it” or “wikipedia it”.  Somehow this language has become a social norm.  We accept these terms without thinking twice about them.  And now I will accept the new term “tweet”.  But I still can’t say it with a straight face.

The music industry is tough.  There’s so much competition.  It seems like everyone who can strum a few chords is trying to make it as a singer-songwriter these days.  A select few get their 15 minutes of fame and then appear to fall off the face of the Earth.  I think music fans get a sensory overload with so many bands and artists trying to grab their attention.  That’s why only the most dedicated artists get a good piece of the pie.  It’s survival of the fittest yet again.  Music only ever gets noticed when it is repeated.  Sure… my friends and family will remember the name Jeff Hawker (obviously), but what about that random guy that heard me at a coffee shop and thought I was pretty good, but didn’t have any money to buy my CD.  He’ll forget about me by the next day.  That is unless he hears or sees me again.

That’s why I’ve decided to pretty much take everything I can get.  Anything goes.  I prefer playing at coffee shops, pubs, and other music venues.  But I’ll do weddings, parties, barmitzvas… anything!  I’m also going to contact more radio stations, and local tv stations to see if I can perform or do an interview live.  I also want to make more videos and I’m considering contacting film schools to see if they’ll do some probono work for me.  In fact, maybe I’ll go do that right now.  There’s no sense writing about doing something when I could just be doing it.  I’ll write more later…  Adios.

I was only home for an hour or two after a long day of serving coffee, cleaning washrooms, and organizing random canned foods at the Mission Possible soup kitchen (see my blog post called “Selfish”… not completely related, since this was an event for my youth group, but I did feel good about serving) before an elderly couple that I am becoming friends with invited me to an open house at an art gallery.  It sounded interesting, so I quickly chowed down my dinner and headed out with them.

The gallery had three rooms with distinctly different artwork in them.  The main room featured giant canvases with paintings of the night’s sky.  Each one was painted at a certain intersection in Vancouver.  They were each selling for $22,000.  It was an interesting concept for a series, but I didn’t quite get it.  Was there a deeper meaning?  Was I just not deep enough to understand?  I wasn’t too concerned though… there was free wine.  Any painting looks good when drinking free wine.

There were a few really good works of art though: a ceramic sculpture of a tooth with a broken crown (entitled “sweet tooth”), a ceramic sculpture of a kid peeing his pants (entitled “accident”), and an impressionist painting of  looking out a  hostel window in Paris (that one brought me back to the three days I spent in Paris  a while ago… so good).

However, the thing that really intrigued me about the art gallery was not the art or the wine or even the people there… it was this plain white door that simply said “Private.”  It took everything within me to not open that door.  I’m not sure if it was my rebellious side wanting to disobey the restriction, or if there was something more to it.  Maybe it was the idea that something special could be behind that door just waiting for me to come join in the adventure.  Whatever the reason for my wanting to open that door, I’m glad I didn’t.

I’m a person with little privacy in my life… I share a one-bedroom apartment with a roommate, I sing songs about some of my most painful moments, I blog almost daily about anything and everything going on in my life, I’m currently on Facebook and Myspace, and I’m considering more (perhaps Twitter).  The thing is - I may be willing to sacrifice my own privacy, but if there is ever a “door” saying Private, I expect myself to not walk through it.  Why?  Because disrespecting privacy is like stealing intimacy.  It’s like the inappropriate-hug-guy.  I don’t want to be that guy.

I don’t remember how it happened, but one year while in college my friends appointed me with a special status (or a title, or a catch phrase… I don’t really know what to call it).  Whenever they saw me, they would shout: “Jeff Hawker is on the prowl!”  I think the reasoning for it is that I was single at that time (in between multiple break ups with the same girl… buy my album to hear more about it!).  My friends assumed that if I was single, I must be out roaming the streets trying to find a new girlfriend.  I thought their routine declaration of “Jeff Hawker is on the prowl” was pretty funny, but it wasn’t very accurate.  I wasn’t really hunting around for a new relationship.  In fact, I never really hunt for anything.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about how there were two major types of tribal people in early humanity: hunter-gatherers and farmers (I think there’s a fancier name for it).  Metaphorically speaking, I must be part of the farming tribe because it is really hard for me to hunt down whatever I want or need.  For example, I hate looking for jobs.  There’s something that just rubs me the wrong way about going around to prospective employers and telling them how great I am.  I also dislike trying to find a new apartment.  Shopping around to find the place with the best combination of location, price, size, and aesthetic is just not my cup of tea.  I guess it might even be a similar situation when it comes to girls.  Yesterday, my friend Tony said that he would love to have a girlfriend, but he doesn’t want to put in the work to get one.  I can relate to that.  Relationships are tough.  And if you’ve heard my album, you know I’ve had some bad experiences.  But I do want to change.  I hope I come to realize the value of the “hunt.”  And I guess that’s what it comes down to.  I need to get used to hunting because most of the major things that I want aren’t just going to come to me.

Well… currently I’m on the hunt for gigs.  I need to play more concerts.  And what I’ve realized is that booking shows is challenging.  Venues often don’t reply to emails or respond to calls.  And when I go in person they just tell me to send an email or call.  It’s a vicious cycle.  Perhaps I should dedicate this whole week to contacting venues as well as other artists in order to find places to play.  So there you have it… Jeff Hawker is on the prowl.  I’ll keep you updated on this venture.

Actually, I have a gig tomorrow night at Simon Fraser University’s Highland pub at 8pm.  Check out the event on Facebook or Myspace.  I hope to see you there.

I went to another open mic last night.  It was a good experience, but nothing glamorous.  Open mics involve staying up all night in a crowded room listening to a lot of bad performances (and being blown away when someone half-decent takes the stage) only to play just a couple songs when your name is called.  It is unlikely anyone will buy your CD or even remember you the next day because most of the people just came to play their own stuff - they aren’t really interested in listening to the other acts.

Open mics are to a new singer-songwriter as moring sunrise shoots are to a new photographer, or as blogging is to a new writer.  They are good practice and they do help to get your name out there, but, in a way, you have to force yourself to go to them.

For as realistically dull as I made open mics sound, I actually did have a great time last night.   There was one girl who had a fantastic voice, and there was another group that was fun to listen to.  And there were a handful of other decent acts as well.  And of course, I got to play, which is always enjoyable.  There is something indescribable about shaking off my nervous twitches, stepping on stage and just givin-er.  Some people actually started dancing to “Shame on Me“, which was so awesome to see.

Tony actually came with me to the open mic and we shot some video footage for a Jeffisode (…that’s right… I’ve combined the word episode with my name, Jeff,  for my new web reality series).  I believe this one will be for Jeffisode #2.  Stay tuned.  I believe we’ll post Jeffisode #1 (behind the scenes of the music video) pretty soon.

If you aren’t already following The Great Blog Off, I encourage you to join the group and tell your friends.  Remember to vote for the best on April 1st.

I woke up this morning feeling a little bit uncomfortable.  And I don’t mean a sore back or sore neck.  There was a sense of something wrong - not danger, but a troubled soul.  This was odd because things are going quite well for me right now - I have a good job, I’m pursuing my dream of playing music for a living and getting good feedback about it, I have good friends and family, everything seems to be going well.  But still there is an unsettledness inside of me.

I think I have drifted into living life for my own personal gain.  I’ve focused most of my energy on trying to get people to hear my music, come to my shows, visit my website, buy my CD.  And what am I doing for anyone?  Not very much.

I am thinking about volunteering somewhere to do some good in the world.  But now I’m scared that this would only be for selfish reasons as well… volunteering only so that I don’t feel so bad about not doing anything.  It’s a complicated situation (it reminds me of that episode in FRIENDS where Phoebe bets everyone that every good deed is selfish in some way).  I don’t want to just put a band-aid on the issue selfish living and pretend like nothing is wrong.  I want a change of heart - a heart transplant, if you will (I love saying “if you will”).  I don’t know where to start, but I’m going to try.

By the way, I probably won’t write a follow-up to this post because there would be the danger of boasting, which is selfish.

I am a person with many weird quirks:

- I only boil water once (I grew up dumping out kettle water that had already been boiled before, which is weird because boiled water is pretty much the safest water)

- I always try to hawk up phlegm after brushing my teeth (I can’t explain why… I just feel like I need to)

- I cut my own hair (I’ve saved so much money this way!)

- I cook one huge meal once a week and eat leftovers every day in order to save time

- I’ll go out of my way to get airmiles and I somewhat doubt I’ll every use them

- I only ever desperately need to use the washroom when someone else is using it (my body is playing a crew trick on me)

- I have no shame about farting in public (what? …you don’t do it too?)

- I am excellent and terrible at many of the same things (I’m good and bad at driving, organization, listening, directions, and much more)… or perhaps I just have an odd self perception

- I have strong convictions about downloading music without paying for it, but I barely think twice when it comes to TV and movie downloads (this one actually haunts me a bit… I’m hypocritical)

- I cook with too much onion and wear ski goggles so that my eyes don’t water (I wouldn’t want to look weird with tears steaming down my face now would I?)

I wonder what weird quirks other people have…