I drove down to Salem to see Spira's band play. I had been hoping to make the trip with a friend or two but it wasn't to be. Luke Warm didn't return the call I made earlier in the day and Foley had other plans. And Mara, the only other person I thought would go, had already planned on seeing her friend Alister play.
When I saw her last, she had asked me if I wanted to go, but I declined, almost solely because I've already seen him play a bunch of times and, with all due respect to Alister and his fine songs, I needed a break. Mara goes to just about every one of his gigs, which are numerous, and I'm sure I'll be afforded the opportunity to see him play again. I think Mara wishes Alister wasn't married, but really though, where their relationship is concerned I know the words but not the music. One thing is evident: they have a bond that's quiet and strong, and it's nice to see.
It took me a while to find parking in Salem. The Halloween crowd was out and about and parking spaces were at a premium. Salem in October is an interesting experience. For some reason, I was drawing parallels between it and Burlington, Vermont. Must be the cobblestone streets they share.
Spira's band, Machine 475, is what Kraftwerk would have sounded like if they wrote songs for Madonna. They have an airy, nonthreatening, techno vibe and they often employ unlikely acoustic instruments like the didgeridoo, sitar, and harp, into their act, which ratchets up the enjoyment factor as far as I'm concerned. The guy playing the didge' looked like Devendra Banhart. He wore antlers and was draped in what looked to be an elk's hide. I imagine the get up had to do with Halloween, but he was so freaky that I can't be sure.
The band played well and Spira got to sing more this time around. I sat with Seany Boy and Emily, the guitarist's wife. Our waitress was cute and sincere -- she'd waited on my table before -- but I abolished any thought of the two of us together when I recalled the scene in Adaptation where Nicholas Cage gets rejected by the lively waitress he had fallen for after a discussion they had about orchids.
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I felt under the weather all week and didn't really put much energy into thinking about Ann. At work, I put all my attention on the tasks before me and barely gave her, or anything else for that matter, a second's thought. Near the end of the week, I had drawn the conclusion that she wouldn't find the idea of us expanding our relationship very appealing. And I didn't care very much because I thought whatever flame I'd lit for her had been stamped out.
And then, at the end of the day today, when she sat at my desk and helped me search for something online, I knelt beside her and felt a renewed longing. And once again, it seemed as if she was into me, in fact I was certain she was. How could I have thought otherwise. I was inches from her long, black hair and I felt the same exact shyness I felt when I had my first crush back in the sandbox days. I can't tell if that's pathetic or endearing. Maybe it's both -- who knows? -- but there's no getting around the fact that she confounds me. I cannot pin her, or the way she feels about me, down. No one ever said these things are easy. Wait a minute, I think Glen Frey may have said something to that effect.
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My friend Doug has started blogging again and I am thrilled. And so are you if you've read his work before. I have included a link to his page and I recommend you take a look. He is a gifted writer and if he killed a thousand golden retrievers after drawing and quatering my family, I'd still consider myself a huge fan. Now, even though I risk losing you, dear readers, I command you to visit his page. If you don't, I'll kill a thousand golden retrievers and draw and quarter my family.
I have finished watching The Office (UK) dvds and wish Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant would hurry up and put out another series. Like within the next week or two. Probably a tall order. Guess there's nothing for it but to rewatch Extras.
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