I’m starting to wonder if people actually listen to themselves as they speak. Watching Michelle Bachmann or Sarah Palin is enough proof to the contrary, but in this case I’m referring to ordinary people, far far from the political spotlight. They’re aunts, parents, friends, even teachers who should know better. They all say the same thing, totally oblivious to how defeating a simple question can be.

All you English, Philosophy, Music, Art, or Theater majors can say it with me. On three, ready? One… Two…

So you’re getting a Music degree, eh? You going to be a music teacher?

I thank God that I never grew so frustrated with that question as to shout back, “no, I’m actually learning this shit because I intend to use it.” It seems unfathomable to most people that a degree in anything but Engineering, Business, Law, or Medicine could ever be used for a wage-earning skill other than teaching that skill to others. I didn’t take more than two decades of piano lessons just so I could be another part-time piano teacher.

The irony is that, when I was in college in the late 90′s, nobody asked all my Computer Science friends if they planned to teach Computer Science. It was assumed that they’d step off the commencement stage directly into the limo that would whisk them to their cushy Silicon Valley job. Maybe if someone asked them The Stupid Question a few of them might’ve pondered alternate career tracks. You know, just in case their entire industry was propped up on an ever-weakening economic bubble.

Do people ask Education majors if they plan to teach other aspiring teachers about how to teach? That concept just seems too recursive for me to focus on right now, so forget I even mentioned it.

My problem isn’t with the act of teaching; I have great respect for those with the patience and knowledge to make someone else smarter. Teaching anything requires a skill set I simply don’t possess and the great teachers wield it with all the skill of Stevie Ray Vaughan on a guitar. No, my frustration lies with the question itself. Roughly translated, it reads something like this:

So you’re getting an English degree, eh? You know you’ll never actually earn a living as a writer, so what’re you going to do to pay the bills? You going to be an English teacher?

There are a very small number of people who will become “famous” thanks to their artistic endeavors, but everyone has to earn a living. Those aspiring programmers I knew ended up in jobs ranging from network admins to gas station attendants. All of us have one simple task before us: Create something of value and earn compensation for it. Artists, for the most part, are entrepreneurs by definition. Everyone else can work for an established company and climb a ladder or start their own law firm or software company if they’re brave enough. The fact that no readily available corporate structure exists for artists (there is no mail room or reception desk for Philosophy majors) doesn’t mean they won’t earn a living from their art.

Don’t torpedo someone’s aspirations simply because you’re too narrow-minded to see their path to success.

If you find yourself confronted with a young artist and feel the urge to ask The Stupid Question, ask yourself a couple of questions first:

1. Are they getting an Education minor? If so, go ahead and ask, it’s no longer a stupid question.
2. What do I do for a living? How would I feel if people assumed the only way I’d be able to use my education was to teach it to others?
3. If everyone who got one of these degrees just taught English or Philosophy or whatever, who the hell is writing the books that I read? Who’s making the music I listen to?
4. Do I want a piano shoved up my ass? (This one’s really just something I wished people would’ve asked themselves before asking me this question in college.)

Tickets for the 2011 VIP Beer Bash on September 17, 2011 are now available! Every year, the Matthew Ebel dot net VIP’s gather at my studio for a day of fun, relaxation, a brewery tour, and a sampling of the ale that I make myself. This year, though, there are some extra incentives to join the party.

• Special guests will include Genesis Whitmore, Runtt, and my parents. Yes, seriously, my parents will be there.
• This year’s VIP Beer Bash will also double as the official release party for The Lives of Dexter Peterson.
• The annual Town Hall Meeting will decide what happens in the next 12 months for Matthew Ebel dot net subscribers.

The VIP Beer Bash is open to all Matthew Ebel dot net VIP or higher subscribers. If you’re on the list (or if you’d like to GET on the list before September), you can join the fun. Yes, there will be soft drinks for VIP’s under 21.

Get your tickets (or become a member) today at http://bit.ly/2011BeerBash

WARNING: Robotic surgery footage in this video. Not horrifying, but the squeamish shouldn’t watch.

The folks over at NPR affiliate WBUR ran a piece about a doctor removing an alarmingly large tumor with the help of robot friends. The hospital even made their own documentary video using, you guessed it, Everybody Needs A Robot.

You’re not an official internet nerd now unless this has happened to you. Even if I’m not exactly a Brony (yet… maybe this phenom is more infectious than it should be), I still think this is adorable. Artwork made by Daniel Stamp, the guy that runs the 100% unofficial Matthew Ebel Bootlegs site.

I don’t remember this ever happening when I was in school.

I have the best fans EVER.

Seriously, this has got to be the most fun song I perform. The audiences always add their own flavor to the loop every single time and it’s difficult to keep a straight face while doing this one! Matthew Ebel dot net All-Access and higher members can actually download the full-quality versions of these videos as they come out.

The audio was graciously engineered by Keith Lesinski (same guy that made us sound awesome at the live event), the video was shot and edited by Aaron Zschau.

My apologies for UStream’s crappy, loud pre-roll ads, but here’s the June 3 streaming concert recording in case you missed it!

Sometimes the muse just ain’t kicking in the way you want her to.

Planning a long-term creative project is like planning any other business venture: If you’re only planning for success, you’re planning to fail. If your budget doesn’t account for the inevitable months or even years of sluggish numbers, you’re looking at your business through rose-colored glasses. Smart businessfolk plan their futures assuming some shit will eventually hit some fan somewhere up ahead.

The same is true for creating a new world. One of the reasons I was so excited about doing The Lives of Dexter Peterson was the fact that it involved more than one creative outlet. I, like you, am rarely ever out of ideas. Even if I’m staring at the keys unable to conjure up a melody, there’s a good chance I’m thinking about some lyrics or another chapter of the story itself. When I started this journey I knew there would be times when I just didn’t feel like making music.

Right now I’m in a lyrical trough. I’ve got a ton of interesting musical ideas in my head, but nothing to say. Even guided by the now-complete story itself, I’m stuck without words. And that’s perfectly fine.

Eventually, words will come. Right around the time my Tonal muse disappears, the impish little Lyric muse will show up again. I can’t plan on when these muses shift, but I keep all the different aspects of this project at the ready. When I feel a creative shortfall settling in, I’ve already got a Plan B.

One of my Matthew Ebel dot net members canceled their subscription yesterday, forever. My system knew her as Member #269, but I knew her by name. Normally this isn’t worth a blog entry; it happens every month. Some of my loyal superfans hit rough economic bumps and just can’t stay on board.

After her subscription was canceled I sent an email saying I was sad to see her go. The reply email came from her daughter:

Hello,

This is the subscriber’s daughter. [Member #269] passed away on Wednesday, May 18, hence the reason for the cancellation.

Thank you for your understanding in this matter.

Believe me, I understand. I would hate to meet an artist who wouldn’t understand.

This was a woman who had been one of my subscribers for a full year now. She, like many of my fans, decided to take a chance on a new way of supporting an indie musician that she liked and actually stuck with it throughout a year of unexpected changes and developments. Though times have been tough, she helped keep me fed and creative for twelve solid months.

In this age with a drowning music industry struggling for air, she had enough faith in my creativity to become part of something truly revolutionary. She also produced her own weekly podcast, furthering the cause with her own talents. In a world where so few people are willing to risk anything for new music or entertainment, she put her money and time on the line as both a supporter and a creator.

Exactly the kind of fan that makes me proud to be an artist.

I don’t know the circumstances of her passing, all I know is that she, like my remaining superfans, made my art possible. I salute you, Member #269, and you will always have an All-Access pass to my heart.