Meg & Dia

I Lied

Sun, 09 Sep 2012 12:59:39 -0400

(Blog post by Meg. To read the whole post please visit HER BLOG)

I’m going to come clean at the risk of sounding like a politician with all of my “flip-flopping”. I decided to take one class at the University. I know I said in a previous blog that I wasn’t going back, but I lied. I am. A tug-of-war took place inside my head before I finally took the plunge. With all of the time that I don’t want to take away from practicing the guitar and songwriting and all of the projects and ideas I would like to begin with Chandler, I didn’t think I had time to add yet another activity.

With a skeptical mindset and a notebook and folder tucked underneath my armpit, I made my way across a very foreign college campus. After being a touring musician for so many years, attempting to return back to school has been a very interesting learning experience to say the least. I told myself on that first day, if the professor gave me any crap for missing the first week (I exhibited at the New York Gift Fair with Chandler that week) ,or for not having read all of the required reading material, or for not having all of my homework I would skip out of the University lifestyle without a second thought.

I took a seat near the front, struggled to maneuver the stow-away-desk from the side of my seat to a horizontal position, while I waited for the professor to either chastise me or ignore me all together. Neither event took place. He simply looked up with a pleasant smile as he poured a cup of steaming hot tea for himself behind the podium. “I haven’t seen you in class before. Are you a new student?” His voice purred with soft undertones like a cat finding a surprisingly warm spot on the couch. “Yes.” I answered, my eyes nervously traveling back and forth across the classroom. “Please don’t pause too much on my behalf professor,” I thought to myself. I’d much prefer to melt into the sea of random students, do the homework, and skedaddle. But he proceeded to ask THE question: “So, are you related to Peter Frampton?” The side of his lips curled into a tiny sideways moon. “I wish!” Hey, this guy wasn’t half bad!

For some reason (I hate to admit this now.) I thought that all of my traveling experience I’ve had all these years as a musician would make me more intelligent and “worldly” than any of my fellow students and even my professor! I believed that I didn’t need them. I didn’t need anybody! Well, that first class really knocked me back into reality and humbled me right down to the bone. Every student, instead of slinking back into their seat after the professor asked a question, didn’t bother to raise a hand, and instead, simply spoke out their very well-thought-out opinions and concerns in confident voices. We were having GREAT thought-stimulating discussions. I was… dare-I-say-it learning.

I Like Girls Who Wear Abercrombie and Fitch

Sat, 30 Jun 2012 00:38:32 -0400

Another blog post of the next chapter of my “Meg and Dia” Story Series. For the first few chapters read these posts: “Here”, “Here”, and “Here”. These posts about how my first band started out, the process of “getting signed” by a major label, all the ups and downs. By Meg

Dia and I performed a few more times after that gig at The Electric Theater. With our practices becoming more and more rare and our enthusiasm tanking, I decided to pack a bag and try the “college” route.

I placed a stack of neatly folded jeans into my suitcase with my father’s voice echoing from down the hallway, “You’re only young once. You ought to keep at it.” I shrugged off his advice and reached up for a few photos on my wall that I wanted to bring with me to my dorm. “You’re going to regret this. You really don’t need to go to college.” I glanced up from my packing. Really? What kind of father gives his child the advice NOT to go to college. I had to convince him over and over again that I needed an education to find a real job, a steady income. I needed stability, and my sister and my little dream and our gigs around town weren’t going to give that to me.

Of course, I didn’t want to leave Dia to fend for herself at home while I went off to college. I realize now, looking back how hurt she felt and abandoned at my leaving. I tried to play down the enormity of my decision, because although I would never admit it out loud, leaving Dia was one of the hardest parts about my “grown up” decision. I held back tears and succeeded in my goal of showing no emotion. Why I couldn’t have simply given her a huge hug, balled my eyes out, and asked her to beg me to stay, I’ll never know.

I basically lived in a closet for a year, sharing half of the tiny space the University liked to call a “dorm room” with another really religious girl who frowned upon my cut-off jeans and late curfew. (I actually ended up becoming really great friends with her.) I did all the college “activities”. I attended some really lame parties, drank a beer on a rooftop in the middle of the night with strangers, fell in love with a tortured artist, and flunked Political Science…

www.chandlertherobot.com

Thu, 28 Jun 2012 15:29:23 -0400

www.chandlertherobot.com

How to learn to play the guitar in 4 easy steps:

Wed, 27 Jun 2012 14:55:46 -0400

How to learn to play the guitar in 4 easy steps:

I Know Jon Cheese

Mon, 25 Jun 2012 14:56:56 -0400

Playing music for the sake of playing music is a beautiful thing, even after an artist is still recovering from a small defeat. So, Dia and I booked ourselves a gig on a Saturday night at The Electric Theater without the Jade Harbor band backing us up.

We packed our arsenal of songs and sang our hearts out for an audience of about 20-30 preoccupied students. Although we enjoyed performing, the excitement for us took place about 10 minutes after we finished when the headlining band began their foot-stomping set. A display of musical theatrics that our small town had never experienced before. Do you guys remember Limbeck? They used to be a Doghouse Records band. In my young eyes Limbeck was the real deal.

They tumbled out on stage, belligerent, sweaty, road—worn in all the right ways. They just sounded so together and smooth, like a real rock n’ roll band. The lead singer even had that “thing” that all lead singers seem to possess. At that moment I stole a sidelong glance at Dia and then up at the singer on stage, secretly scheming how I could rip a few holes in her jeans without her knowing and perhaps get her to stop brushing her hair for a week or two.

Back then I would have given an arm and a leg to be able to travel in their beaten-up, 15-passenger van, heck I’d give up half my limbs to even sit shot gun around the block with all of the band members hanging their arms out the window, cigarette smoke hot-boxing our conversation. (A decade later, I feel slightly different about traveling via van and even more intense about cigarette smoke, but back when I was 17, those smelly bench seats called out to me with a vengeance!)

After Limbeck finished their set, Dia and I took our places behind the merch table, arranging a few demo cds and two horrible t-shirt designs on the folding table near the entrance of the venue. The task proved difficult because a pair of ankles clad in worn sandals kept stomping around in our very compact space. I looked up at the man hopping around on the table. His giant pirate mustache muffled his hollering, “Limbeck CDs! Two for 10!” With every hoot and yell his head dramatically swooped back and his auburn, curly-hair waved around excitedly. I didn’t know if I should be concerned for his safety. He looked as though at any moment he might slip on a cd or t-shirt and fall to his doom…

To read the rest visit my blog: http://chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

~Meg

A Bed and a Guitar

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 16:58:26 -0400

I’m writing this post lying on the floor on my stomach in an empty room aside from a few bloated cardboard boxes and an ikea floor lamp. Nick is prancing through our empty apartment spraying spritzes of one of his homemade “natural”, “essential” oil mixes. The window is open. I’m staring at startling greenery (for Austin at this time of year. Thank you spring rain!) and smelling hints of lavender and evergreen. Nick opens the door, peeks his head through, and asks me, “What are you doing in this empty room on the floor?” I give him the same glance I give to everyone when they interrupt me when I’m either writing a song or a blog post. My eyebrows come together and do a little dance and my lower lip puckers outward. “I’m writing a blog!” I wine in an effort exaggerate the fact to that I’d like some time alone. “Well, why you gotta do it in here?” “Because there is music out there, and it’s calm in here.” ”Well, it was”, I think to myself. He gives me one of his “looks” and then turns and walks away. I couldn’t help thinking about what I knew he was thinking as he continued with the finishing touches on our apartment: “God, why am I dating a “creative”, artist, hippie chick with extremely irritating dietary requirements? I should have listened to my mother and stuck with Anne back in high school. Yeah, she had a boring hair cut, but all of her meals were loaded with butter and sugar, and she would never EVER pay more attention to a blog than ME…”

Yes, we are in the midst of packing and moving. I can’t wait for the day when I can stop this “packing and moving” bit. It’s tiring and dull.

To continue reading please visit…http://chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

10 Lessons I Learned From an Arena Tour

Thu, 22 Mar 2012 15:35:00 -0400

1. I learned that being a “performer” and being a “musician” on stage are equally as important. For the entirety of “Meg and Dia” I believed that having my bangs cover half my face in a dramatic swoop and an incoherent mumble in between songs fulfilled my requirement as an entertainer. Only during the second half of the Blake tour, by watching and learning from both Dia and Blake, did I realize that the crowd deserves to have the entertainers on stage be appreciative and show their respect by smiling and moving with the music.

2. I learned to not sweat the small stuff that happens on stage. People aren’t analyzing the show in detail as much as the band and I are. When two cowgirls are sitting in the third row, sipping on beers and laughing hysterically to each other, they are not making fun of me for missing the A minor in the 2nd verse, they are remembering the “stuck up” mechanical engineer who spilled Miller Light all over himself while hitting on them at the bar last night.

To read the rest of Meg’s blog click here…

Silver Chandlers are now available in my shop!...

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 15:10:12 -0400

Silver Chandlers are now available in my shop! http://www.chandlertherobot.com/

"Herman the Nerdbot" To Be Released at Midnight! (Eastern Time)

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 14:11:53 -0500

Define Nerd:

One Whose IQ exceeds his weight. (from the “Urban Dictionary”)
A foolish or contemptible person who lacks social skills or is boringly studious.
An intelligent, single-minded expert in a particular technical discipline or profession.

March’s SPECIAL “Limited Edition” piece: “Herman the Nerdbot”

Made from an alloy metal with silver coating. (Many of you have been asking for “silver”:)
1.75” tall
Includes a vintage silver chain that is 19” with a 3” adjustable tail
Complete with snazzy bow tie and intelligent glasses.
price: $50.00
Only 100 made

More details about “Herman the Nerdbot” will be posted tomorrow! To order tonight at midnight visit my ONLINE SHOP.

Honestly,

Meg

A Sneak Peak at March’s “First Thursday”...

Thu, 23 Feb 2012 15:27:30 -0500

A Sneak Peak at March’s “First Thursday” Design: “Herman the Nerdbot”!

~Meg

http://www.chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

Don't eat the Thai Food in Rochester

Tue, 21 Feb 2012 15:15:49 -0500

I found everyone’s smiling faces quite enjoyable last night, during our headlining performance in Rochester, NY. Hardly any technical obstacles, aside from one little stint I attempted to pull during the outro of walk away. I went for one of those “Jack White” moments where said guitarist places one foot on the floor monitor for balance and poses in a moment of triumph and glory for all the world to see…

That move doesn’t work in high heels (Just in case you ever find yourself in a similar situation.)…

http://chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

Memories in Pittsburgh, PA

Mon, 20 Feb 2012 14:27:17 -0500

I wrote a NEW blog about our headlining show in Pittsburgh last night!:”We are almost half way through the tour, and I still can’t wrap my head around what we do each night. Playing in an arena for the first time gave me the exact same rush of adrenaline I felt when I saw the ocean off the California coast for the first time right after I turned 15. Kind of makes you think to yourself: Is this real?”…

http://www.chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

P.S. my new Facebook Page is: www.facebook.com/megframpton1 Come and hang out!

A Discussion Between a Large Man and a Small Woman

Fri, 17 Feb 2012 10:46:22 -0500

(I post blogs just like the blog below daily here: http://chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

honestly,

Meg)

My boyfriend lives right above me. I know that seems a bit odd. What I mean is, my boyfriend’s bunk is right above mine on the tour bus. Each day I swing open Nick’s bunk to see if he’s awake. Usually a limp arm will tumble out the side of his bunk, smacking either my forehead or an unsuspecting nostril.

Tour is beginning to feel like “Groundhog Day”. Whenever anyone asks, “How was your show in Cleveland?” or, “Did you enjoy your stay in Jacksonville?” I have to think really hard to remember some differentiating factor about a certain city. Is that the show when I didn’t take a shower and I scared off all of our fans at the signing? Or is that the show date where I received that horrible pedicure by that awful woman who smelled like stale laundry detergent and cats?

Putting on my face before my performance with “Dia Frampton” opening up for “Blake Shelton” in Highland Heights, KY

I had to have a “talk” with our guitar tech today about how my guitars always seem to be a bit out of tune. My paranoia of “confrontation” paralyzed every attempt I made to speak with him on the subject. So I decided to do what I normally do whenever I run into a problem on tour: ignore my problems and hope and pray they will go away on their own.

But of course they never do, do they…

“So I just spoke to your tech today about the “tuning” issue. I went over the technical aspects of tuning, and explained to him the effect weather has on guitar strings.” my tour manager said. “He wanted to know why you didn’t talk to him about these issues yourself.”

Wonderful.

Our tech walked into the room at that moment. I had to say something or else that awkward feeling in the air that weighed heavily on EVERYONE would stick around all day.

La la la. How interesting the seams on my pants became at that moment!

Nick, Carlo, and Jonathan told me they were going to go explore the city of Highland Heights, KY. I waited for them to leave so our guitar tech and I could have a moment of privacy to discuss the issue. The moment never came however, and resulted in me politely inquiring whether the three of them were planning on leaving anytime soon? “What is your deal?” Nick asked. “Yeah, how come you are being so awkward?” Jonathan agreed.

“Well, I…I wanted to practi-, actually I want to speak with Rob alone about something. THERE! You made me say it and now it’s really awkward!” Jonathan’s lips transformed into a tight thin line. He immediately pulled on his black coat and ran out the door. Nick threw a dicey glance at me and then at our guitar tech and inched toward the door as well.

I can’t remember exactly what I told our tech. I put a lot of the blame on the weather and the humidity and the rare tuning I used. I explained that I would like to tune my guitars myself for the next few shows and perhaps he could watch and learn. Our guitar tech, a large man, loomed over me. He could squash me to pieces if he wanted to. I hurriedly peeked at the distance between myself and the door in case I needed to make a run for it.

No need to be afraid though. After I had finished my painful monologue, I looked up to see I had turned this large burly man into a puddle on the floor with hurt puppy dog eyes blinking up at me.

Needless to say he tuned my guitars to perfection that night. Before our show, he smiled at me and nodded toward the guitars as if to say, “May I?” I nodded back, a faint smile on my face.

Another day in the books.

Honestly,

Meg

Meg's New Blog: "The Mighty Guitar Solo"

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 13:11:28 -0500

Check out my NEW blog about “The Mighty Guitar Solo”: My general rule of thumb is: If you can’t sing the guitar solo or hum it, then it’s not going to connect with listeners very well. I enjoy really simple and melodic musical phrases…

To read more: http://www.chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

~Meg

(Please be forewarned, I am not a “tech geek”. I...

Mon, 06 Feb 2012 10:59:52 -0500

(Please be forewarned, I am not a “tech geek”. I hope I don’t disappoint a lot of people with my pedal board’s simplicity. However, I’m sure U2’s “The Edge” has some sort of write-up somewhere for those of you wanting more out of a pedal Board…)

Now, I’m going to start on the top row going from left to right, and then the bottom row left to right…

To read the rest please visit: http://chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

My “First Thursday Limited Edition” Tiny Dancer Bot...

Fri, 03 Feb 2012 14:57:04 -0500

My “First Thursday Limited Edition” Tiny Dancer Bot is now sold out! Thank you to everyone who ordered. Expect these little lady bots to be landing in your mailboxes in the next 2-3 weeks!

~Meg

INTRODUCING My Latest Design: "Tiny Dancer Bot"!

Thu, 02 Feb 2012 14:06:32 -0500

Happy Birthday “Tiny Dancer Bot”!

Hold me closer tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

~Elton John

Visit my online jewelry shop to order “Tiny Dancer Bot”: www.chandlertherobot.com

Thank you to everyone who has already placed a “Pre-Order” last week. Yours will be the first orders that are sent out:) Subscribers to my CTR Newsletter will always be the first to know about “Pre-Orders” for upcoming “First Thursday” pieces as well as any other exciting CTR news, so if you haven’t signed up for my CTR email list, please do! To anyone who hasn’t yet ordered “Tiny Dancer Bot”, now is your chance… Read on!

You know that comfy white tee that you throw on for Saturday mornings while you are preparing blueberry pancakes for your hunny?

Or how about the pair of jeans that you’ve worn in for years now and can’t seem to give up? True

Jewelry can and SHOULD feel like that!

True, we don’t want to be judged by our outside appearances, but don’t look at your “outside” as a platform for people to judge you by, but rather a “stage” for you to be creative and expressive. Allow what dangles from your neck and your ears to make you feel more like YOU!

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

~Dr. Seuss

When I started making jewelry, I realized there were a few designs that I couldn’t help but connect to in an intimate way, and a few designs that were a bit more meaningful to me than the others. So I decided to offer them to the public in “Special Limited Edition” batches. On the first Thursday of each month, I release a “First Thursday” Design. There are usually only 50-100 pieces made.

Last year I designed, for example, a Cowbot for Blake Shelton and his lovely wife, Miranda Lambert, in celebration of Dia’s success on NBC’s “The Voice”. I also designed a “Punk Rock Robot” for old times sake because “Meg and Dia” have participated in Warped Tour a few times, and CTR had a booth at Warped last year. I designed “Explorer Bot”, my favorite “First Thursday” piece from last year, during my first summer in my new city: Austin, TX, to represent all my new adventures in nature.

I’d have to say my favorite “First Thursday” design of all time is my latest creation…

Imagine, a tiny robot dressed in a delicate dancer tutu, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, yet crafted from solid steel so she is anything but fragile! A bow tie on the side of her copper head completes her chic robotic style.

“Tiny Dancer Bot” is 1.75” tall
Antique copier chain is approximately 19” long
Designed by artisan and craftswoman Meg Frampton (Me, Duh:)
Made from a stunning alloy metal with pure copper coating
This is an exclusive “Limited Edition” piece. Only 100 pieces made!

Visit my online jewelry shop to order “Tiny Dancer Bot”: www.chandlertherobot.com

If for any reason at all you are not totally happy with your robot, I will issue you a full refund or exchange.

Like always, you guys know if you have any questions, please feel free to email me at: meg@chandlertherobot.com

Honestly,

Meg

P.S. Only 100 Tiny Dancers are available as part of this “Limited Edition”, and more than half have already been spoken for in the “Pre-Order”, so order soon:) Ships within 2-3 weeks, but will most likely take about a week to arrive

Calling all Gryffindor’s to read my NEW...

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 14:30:29 -0500

Calling all Gryffindor’s to read my NEW Blog:
“Unfortunately, our quest to find the infamous Harry Potter “Butter Beer” did not end successfully. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that Robert, our tour manager, much to Dia’s horror, pulled the “Do you KNOW who this is?!” card. He leaned in to hiss into the poor ticket lady’s ear, “This woman standing beside me is “Dia Frampton” from NBC’s ‘The Voice’!” Dia shuffled nervously from …”
To read the rest please visit: www.chandlertherobot.blogspot.com

Sisters On the Road

Fri, 27 Jan 2012 12:36:00 -0500

I rack my brain for the lyrics of the one song that seems to sift right through my mind every time Carlo plays the first chord. Dia turns to face the audience with a mischievous grin after sipping from a water bottle in between songs.

“I also play in a band with my sister Meg called ‘Meg and Dia’.” The spotlight blinds me after that sentence. (After the 3rd time it happened, I figured out when to shield my eyes.) “We wrote a record awhile back called “Cocoon”. We never had the chance to play songs from the record on tour. So today we are going to sing for you guys a song from “Cocoon” called “Bandits”. It’s about these two criminals on the run…who will never run away from each other, even if they are doomed to keep running.” Pause for effect. She continues, “I’m bandit number one!” A slight theatrical bow from the waist. “And I’m bandit number two!” I shout out into the audience, a giant smile spreads across my face to mask my impending terror. The time is coming for me to sing my lines in between hers…alone.

She begins to sing. I sing my line. She sings hers. The song is coming along quite swimmingly. Usually I have my smart phone hidden on my keyboard to read lyrics if I need them. (I’m cheating. I know.) But this time I was on my own.

The chorus rolls around. Easy enough. Harmonies never freak me out. All I do is listen to Dia’s breath and inflections before she sings a word, and I can usually figure out the lyrics. This on-stage method I use is the closest we will ever come to sisterly intuition.

Second Verse. She sings her line.

And I’ve… got …NOTHING!

No words. Just silence. My heart is beating like race horse. I can’t find any clues. So what do I do? I grin like a mad woman, and shake my tambourine like my behind is on fire. I believe I pulled out a “Ashley Simpson” dance like she did on that t.v. show when she had her little “moment”. Dia just stared at me with those big brown eyes that grew more enormous with each missing word…

To continue reading please visit: http://www.chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/

Past, Present, and Future

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 19:07:59 -0500

I felt so old walking into the beat-up venue in the middle of nowhere. I stretched my wrist out to be wrapped with that awful tacky neon wristband which would prove to the suspicious security guards I had in fact paid for a ticket. The music started playing. I heard crashing and hi-frequency splashes of noise. In fact, there wasn’t much of a difference between the sound of the band on stage through that horrendous sound system and the 80 mph winds mixed with “tornado warning” sirens that took place the night before.

The loud crowd, full of energy, scurried about the room like a new litter of pups rolling over and under each other, fighting ruthlessly for their mother’s limited supply of milk. I saw young girls walking around hiding behind their bangs with the same harsh haircut I used to wear only a few years ago: shoulder length, side bangs, choppy-dramatic layers. The hairstyle of the rebellious young female.

The lead singer danced about on stage, theatrically using tense hand gestures to accentuate her punchy vocal phrases. The band released a steady explosion of discordant movements and sound, crashing into each other both sonically and physically.

Out of place. Slightly irritated. I desperately wanted to be back in our corny hotel room (which I recently just found out is basically vacant. Hmmm… I wonder why?), watching comedy central, and eating one of Nick’s vegan cookies that I’m pretty sure I could snag without him noticing.

To continue reading Meg’s blog post visit: http://chandlertherobot.blogspot.com/