Paul 的个人资料Paul Goade照片日志列表更多  |  工具 帮助 |
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2007/3/8 And The Award Goes To...Thank YOU! YOU are my inspiration.
Here is the current stats of what has been happening with my GarageBand.com experiment. Fun.
4.3 out of 5 Stars
#117 of 677 in Acoustic
Track of the Day on 15Mar2007 in Acoustic
Best Keyboards in Acoustic, week of 12Feb2007 Best Keyboards in Acoustic, week of 19Feb2007 Best Keyboards in Acoustic, week of 26Feb2007 2.7 Stars
#94 of 203 in Jazz
Track of the Day on 1Mar2007 in Jazz
Best Bass in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Best Keyboards in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Best Keyboards in Jazz, week of 26Feb2007 Best Production in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Best Production in Jazz, week of 19Feb2007 Best Melody in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Best Melody in Jazz, week of 19Feb2007 Best Mood in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Most Original in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Potential Soundtrack in Jazz, week of 12Feb2007 Best Elevator Song overall, week of 19Feb2007 Best Elevator Song in Jazz, week of 19Feb2007 Best Elevator Song in Jazz, week of 26Feb2007 2.7 Stars
#92 of 203 in Jazz
Track of the Day on 21Feb2007 in Jazz
Thank YOU for everything,
Paul
2007/2/14 "Softer" wins 7 Awards at GarageBand.com!First, I want to thank you. You. You. You!
I love YOU!
Once again, I have to thank my fans, my manager, my inspiration, and of course, the supreme creator of the universe.
"Softer" has won 7 Reviewers' Picks Awards at GarageBand.com!
Check it out at http://www.garageband.com/song?|pe1|S8LTM0LdsaSlYlO1YGk
Wow!
I'm stunned. Overwhelmed. Humbled.
Music is a gift. All music. For all of us.
Thank you!
Paul
"Sweat" is Track Of The Day on February 21, 2007 at GarageBand.com!I first want to thank you. You. You. You. I love YOU!
I want to thank my fans, my manager, my inspiration, the voting body of people, and of course, the supreme creator of the universe.
Why? I got e-mail from GarageBand.com tonight.
This was very unexpected...especially for this song! "Sweat" is #96 on the Jazz charts as of this writing. The reviews have been surprisingly great. Here is a recent review that made me laugh out loud:
Thank you for listening.
Paul
2007/1/21 Music, Music, MusicSomething is happening here.
Inspiration has arrived.
The music collection is growing.
Finally the years of composing, writing, and playing is now beginning to appear. Thank you.
Love,
 Go to GarageBand.com to hear "I Just Want To Kiss You", "A Sadness", "Sweat" and more music by Paul Goade 2006/10/26 First Night for Charity for Junior Achievement at Seattle Auto ShowAppearing LIVE at the First Night for Charity event for Junior Achievement at the Seattle Auto Show at the Qwest Event Center, Wednesday, October 25, 2006: Clarence Cal & Paul Goade! ...oh, and American Idol's Season 5 Ace Young. Summary
Qwest Event Center It's huge. Clarence & I played at the entrance as everyone arrived at the event. I saw a lot of faces of appreciation, and we appreciated all of the extremely warm, friendly, complimentary comments. It's wonderful to share music. We also played later in the evening at the Jazz "Stage" sponsored by Lynnwood Honda, and next to the Lexus booth. The acoustics were awesome in the Qwest Event Center and we loved filling the room with beautiful music.  It's seriously such an honor to play music with such a talented musician. Clarence is simply the best saxophone player I know.Ace Clarence and I were setting up and getting ready to play and we met Ace Young at the VIP room. Ace was very nice and seemed exactly the same as he was on American Idol. I'll let you make your own decision on whether that is good or not, but he did appear to be a genuinely nice person. We mainly talked about music and family. I joked about not knowing who he was (ok, I admit I watched American Idol, but I claim it was only to keep in touch with my daughters!). A couple of cool points: He told us that his grandfather is 86 and still occasionally plays the saxophone while his grandmother plays the piano. He said he'd meet up with us later and sign autographs for my daughters if I wanted, but I didn't take him up on his offer. Sorry Crystal & Jacqueline! He was excited to meet us, of course  , and couldn't wait to hear us play.He stopped by later to check us out and seemed genuinely impressed and gave us a big smile and thumbs up. Clarence and his wife Trudy and I watched part of Ace's show, and let's just say I appreciate real musicians (he sang karaoke-style along with a pre-recorded CD). But hey - I can't sing well enough to win a high school talent show, let alone win the votes of 40 million TV viewers. He put on a great show and had a great time dancing with a fan. And Clarence & I didn't have a stage surround by booth babes either, which is the goal of a real musician, by the way.  Check out the pictures from the event in my Photos. 2006/10/23 Talking about Expert advice on college applications
Quote Expert advice on college applications 2006/10/19 Talking about John Legend: 'Ordinary People'
Quote John Legend: 'Ordinary People' 2006/8/28 Hood to CoastKatie, Teddy, Jaimie, Brian, Ivan, Liz, Kris, Ray, Mindy, Kristen (and James), and me. 12 Insane People. Largest relay race in the world. 197 Miles. Mt. Hood to Seaside. 30+ Hours. 22.65 Miles + 2 Blocks were mine. 2006/6/14 Music by Paul Goade?I had to try a couple of songs at GarageBand.com.
2006/4/23 Whistler April 2006Crystal, Jacqueline and I went to Whistler.
Crystal & I snowboarded and drank beer. Jacqueline did homework, ate and shopped. We had a blast! :)
Rich, Amy, Madison & Mckenna joined us. We ate, swam, and threw food. Fun times!
Check out the pictures. 2006/1/30 Whistler Break Update - Cast Off!Cast off! Yes, it is.
I've got two arms and hands again and I appreciate it so much more now.
Dad, I love you.
I went to the doctor this morning to see if I could get the cast off since it has been 6 weeks. He agreed it was OK and set off to find the cast cutter.
A half hour later, after stopping by a few times, he finally told me that it seriously might be on eBay. They stopped a lot of their sports related practice.
The doctor made a call to a nearby hospital and he sent me to Providence Hospital. I was born at Providence Hospital...I think.
 I arrived at the other office and they had no idea who I was except for apparently one lady who could not be found. They called her name several times and she finally arrived to cut me.
She pulled out her trusty cast cutter and went to work. One cut up the outside of my forearm and another on the inside. It's more of a vibrator than a circular saw, but it still cut me slightly in a couple of places. Ever been cut by a vibrator? Another subject, another audience.
 My arm wasn't as crusty or pale as expected. It's still awkward and I'm afraid to use it, but I feel whole again.
I went back to my doctor on First Hill and the x-rays showed all positive results.
The thing I look forward to most? Washing my right underarm. I can't wait!
 2 ARMS! 2 HANDS! Thank you God!
2005/12/22 Whistler BreakThis is an excerpt from the long version of this story. The short version is I broke my wrist. The End.
And now for the words...
Bam!
I look up at the sky and I’m checking my vitals. I’m on my back with my head pointing down the slope of the mountain.
I can breathe. I can move all of my limbs. I didn’t collide with the young snowboarder girl in pink who was now a few feet in front of my upside down head.
I quickly replay what happened in my mind. This was my last run down the hill for the day. I felt invincible from the moment of my very first run down Whistler Mountain. My equipment felt custom fit to my body. The sun was warm and bright, my feet were comfortable, the snow was a bit icy, but I learned to snowboard in Seattle, where powder is rare.
After many runs, I stop for a late lunch before my final run of the day. They are setting chairs on tables as I take my last few bites at the Roundhouse Lodge as if to say, “it’s time for you to leave”. I eat my Mars bar, gear up, and take one last look at the beautiful sunset atop of Whistler Mountain.
I’m flying down the mountain. “Nobody is going to pass me on the way down today”, I think to myself. I’ve got Lamb pumping music into my ears as I carve down the snowy terrain, leaving snow dust for the slow pokes. I spend little time on the edges of the wide trails as I speed down the hills. I pass many beginners and recall how I carved with trepidation when I was first learning to snowboard.
I peer down and I see the last gondola before I have to unclip my boots from the rest of my fantastic gear. Feeling cocky and having proven to myself that I know what I’m doing from the flawless runs of the day, I turn up the speed and head straight down the hill.
I’m goofy (not surprisingly), which if you don’t snowboard, basically means I lead with my “wrong” foot first. So I am facing up the mountain slightly and notice a few novices sitting ahead of me taking in the mountainous sunset view on the now icy snow slopes.
“I’m going to fly passed them and show them how it’s done”, I think to myself, exactly as I once watched young kids fly by me without fear.
A split second later, the world turns in slow motion.
Bam!
I “catch an edge”, which basically means you are going to smash into the ground in a second. The edge of your snowboard turns too much into the hard snow and the board flips and takes your body with it.
I am facing up the mountain when the back edge of my board decides to dig in and smack my deity back to mortality.
With the slope of the mountain, it is obviously a much further distance to the ground if you fall backwards. I am in the air briefly, but in slow motion I am flying horizontally for several seconds. I am an Olympiad in a high jump. I see myself in my high jump stance as I see the camera zoom around me 360 degrees.
Smack!
The back of my head hits first, then my left hand, then my cold butt, and finally my feet and board. A perfect 10…for an agony of defeat movie clip.
After my self-check for my vitals, I quickly jump up and continue my run. I’m tough. That didn’t hurt a bit. As I make my way down slowly and carefully now, I continue to check my sore spots. The first thing I notice is pain in my left forearm. It’s a familiar feeling for me. I’ve had broken wrists before and I have my suspicions but I can move my wrist in most directions without pain.
My head aches, but I think back to the day I decided to always wear a helmet and I thank God again. I make a mental note to remind Crystal why I still insist that she wear one.
My butt is sore, but probably just bruised.
I make it to the gondola and stand – not sit – in it for the ride to the base of the mountain.
The throbbing pain in my forearm intensifies and I know what I must do when I get down to the ground. I ask the first lady I see at the gondola where to go if I think I have a broken arm and she looks at me in amazement in my calmness and she quickly points me to a Guest Relations building to ask someone to call for help.
The Guest Relations room is packed full of people. I have to use the bathroom and the pain in my forearm is starting to increase. It’s hot and loud. The lines are long. I finally make my way to the desk and ask a lady politely what to do if I think I have a broken arm. With the same amazement and panic in her expression, she calls for the ski patrol.
I don’t know if it was the heat, the crowd, the throbbing pain in my forearm, or being dehydrated from my day of snowboarding, but the room begins to get dark around the edges of my view and the lady behind the desk notices and runs alongside the desk.
I feel as if I am going to throw up and soil my pants. She looks at me and runs from behind the long counter as if to catch me from falling.
I wake up just seconds later in a comfortable black leather couch. My sore butt is surprised to land on the plush cushion and I immediately feel better. I take off my helmet and wipe the cold sweat from my head.
She stays with me with a concerned look on her face for 5-10 minutes keeping close eye on me to check my progress as she waits for the ski patrol. She grows impatient and makes another call to ensure someone is on his or her way.
I look at her nametag. Crystal.
In walks the red-coated ski patrol lady. She is sweating and out of breath. She was the nearest medic and had to run down the mountain herself to get to me as soon as possible. She heard about the fainting and the possible broken arm and hurried as fast as she could. She had supplies out quickly before she was out of her heavy red coat in the overheated room.
She checked out my wrist and noticed the swelling around it and formed the splint and wrapped my forearm tightly as she called for a shuttle to escort us to the hospital.
Her nametag: Amanda.
Amanda zipped up my coat around me and we waited outside for the shuttle to arrive. The cold, hard, wooden bench outside was in front of a daycare facility. Several children stare as they leave and wonder what happened to this man with the cast. “Always listen to your Mom and Dad,” I say as they walk passed me.
The shuttle was a large Suburban, which parked itself far up on the sidewalk. I waited inside of the running, warm vehicle, as they loaded what appeared to be 20-foot ski poles. The poles were in bags that resembled corpses in body bags. I laughed to myself – mostly – at the thought.
The ride was quick and I arrived at the hospital. The lady driver thoughtfully brought my snowboard in and pointed me towards the front desk where I could check in. After checking in, they told me to wait in the waiting area until they call my name. I used the opportunity to finally use the bathroom – the washroom – because I’m in Canada.
I have a greater appreciation for my fathers’ life. I had a lot of trouble figuring out how to get my snow gear off of me with one useful arm in order to use the bathroom. Once I did, I heard my name being called in the waiting area several times. I’ll just say the word diarrhea now and get it over with. I’m not proud of it, but it is what happened.
I finally report to the front desk and speak to the smiley, tan Australian lady who asks where I’m staying. “Number 100, eh?” she says. “You must be lucky…or not…depending on how you look at it since you are here at the hospital.” Canadians are apparently funny. She points me to the nursing station down the hall.
I turn the corner to the nursing station, and I see a long hallway with about 20 chairs. In each of the chairs is a person. Each person is holding one of his or her wrists. Some have ice bags; others are holding them next to their chests. Some are crying; some are sharing stories and some are laughing. Sophia Lopez says something in Spanish to her attractive mother and I hear her say in a winey sad voice “muy mal”, which means very bad and I say “yo tambien” which means me also. They both smile along with Sophia’s very polite and considerate sister. Her sister sits only when a seat is available, but offers her chair to anyone who is injured. A nurse tells me I’m the odd one. I agree completely, but she then explains that I’m the only one of the 20 with a left wrist break. Unique I am.
The loud noise from a helicopter landing just outside the window causes wide eyes from everyone in the hallway. Seconds later, a young man with a neck brace, completely strapped down on a stretcher, flies down the hallway. We are the lucky ones. I sit across the open doorway to the room where they work on Miguel. I see needles being prepped, tapped, squirted, inserted, and I see blood being brought in and removed, and I even see urine brought out in a tray down the hallway. Yes, I thank God again.
I see sons, fathers, daughters, and mothers. They are each visited by a nurse and/or doctor. Worst injuries are examined first, of course. Each have their own story, but in the end I begin to hear the same story coming from the nurses and doctors. By the time the doctor visits me, I know the drill.
“My name is Dr. Kindall and I am here to help you,” says the man with a kind voice and gentle eyes.
So in brief, the routine is (sit down if you are susceptible to fainting at the sight of needles or blood) to (1) stick an intravenous needle in the back of your hand for the anesthetic, (2) place your arm under the cool video x-ray machine, and (3) reset your bones to their proper position, and then (4) slap a cast on your arm. It’s a lot cooler to see in person than it sounds. You arm is like jello and you can’t feel a thing…for a while.
So with my arm set back to the way it was originally made, I head to a room where I am second in line. The girl in line before me is crying. She has red hair and appears to be Irish. She has an English accent. Her friend is with her taking her picture. I offer to take a picture of them together. She cheers up and smiles. I bring out my camera and ask to have my picture taken with my fellow wrist breaker. After the picture, she asks me my name and I simply say “Paul”. She says, “It’s very nice to meet you Paul. My name is Denise.” I offer my right hand and we shake hands at a distance and laugh. She has a broken right wrist. We exchange stories. They tell me I should pick the pink-colored cast material. It is sadly not available, so I instead choose black. It matches my outfit, they explain.
After the brilliant casting job (he explains the fine art of “not too tight, not too loose”) by the great Dr. Kindall, and a quick check for a broken tailbone (butt story intentionally left blank here), I get sent to a nurse for observation. They want to make sure my fainting and diarrhea doesn’t equal a soon-to-be-had concussion, but I get to take a brief break to step out to eat dinner. Yes, I had wine. I was only walking and the red, red wine made me feel so fine.
There are no beds available when I return, so I spend the night at the hospital sort of sleeping in a soft back, wooden armed chair. The two young men who arrived via helicopter, and the guy with the blood-oozing chin cut wide open, and the guy who fainted twice in the hallway really deserved the beds more than I.
I wake up briefly at 4AM and can feel the effects of Canadian drugs and the Californian fermented grapes. Great stuff! I sneak my phone out and turn it on in the “No Cellular Phones” zone to check my messages. I doze off again briefly and suddenly I can return home after I pay my medical bill. I must have passed some test.
I wake up at about 2PM in my own bed and figure out how to shower, change clothes, and rush out to eat so that I can take more painkillers. Try this at home for fun: with a pair of button fly jeans, button them up with just one hand. I eat, take my meds, and float around the village shopping.
Life is beautiful when you feel no pain.
I eat again soon after my very late lunch at the Bearfoot Bistro. The piano man is moving his fingers fastidiously across the ivory keys as I quench my thirst again with more red wine (a Napa Valley cabernet). The sea bass is delicious and every course and pallet cleanser progressively gets better. I take my meds, take my last bite of the chocolate decadence and drift home.
I am startled.
It’s 2PM again and there is a housekeeper yelling at me. I’ve apparently missed 3 phone calls and I was supposed to check out 4 hours ago. I flap my privates in her general direction (in my mind), she leaves, and I single-handedly get ready as quickly as I possibly can.
I’m going home. I needed a break and I got one.
2005/9/18 Holy Crap!I don't know when this happened, but Crystal and Jacqueline are ladies and they are beautiful. Many people knew this, but I just noticed.
 I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside...blah, blah, blah...
Look out world. Crystal and Jacqueline have arrived. 2005/2/21 Winter Break! SundayJacqueline is spending the week with me. She is SO lucky. :) Well...she spent some of her day at a movie with friends and then visiting at her friend's house. I had dinner with Jerry, Wendy, Tiffany (Happy Birthday Tiffany!), David, and Kelsey. Jacqueline eventually made some time for me and we watched The Notebook together...well at least for 15 minutes or so before she fell asleep. :) Hey - it's easy to tell between the two of us who gets beauty rest. 2005/2/15 First Place School Event at Bloch HomeClarence Cal and I performed for an event at the Bloch's home in Bellevue, WA for First Place School. Special host was Dan Wilson (Seattle Mariners) and his wife and long time supporter of First Place School, Annie Wilson. Doreen Cato runs First Place School and she always invites Clarence and I to many of First Place School's fundraisers. She is a terrific woman and she has a very positive affect on people she meets and people in our community. The music was incredible, of course, and the people were fabulously nice and full of compliments. It felt great to hear that people enjoyed the music. It's all about the music. 2005/2/12 Northwest Minority Business Council Awards DinnerClarence Cal and I performed again this year at the Northwest Minority Business Council Awards Dinner. The music was outstanding, of course! People seemed to enjoy it very much and many people told us they loved the music.
I was flying high from the performance tonight. It feels so great to play.
Stedman Graham ("Mr. Oprah") was the keynote speaker and was a very inspirational speaker. |
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