It's already Tuesday. Where does the time go? It doesn't go anywhere because it's doesn't exist. We don't need to go into that now, the whole nature of time. Let's begin with this past Saturday, the day of the show, the show in which Spira displayed her wonderful paintings - the opening reception of her Spiritus exhibit, to be even more precise. Her friend Paul had some of his own paintings on display and I closed out the evening with an absolutely spellbinding set of heartfelt and achingly beautiful (this, according to the New York Times review I read in my sleep).
It was a special night but the week leading up to it was nothing short of challenging. For one, the cold I thought I had was more likely a sinus infection and it stuck around like an asshole. And my car needed some work. There were other things too, but I met each challenge head on, something I'm not sure I would have done not so long ago. I imagine there would have been more pouting and sardonic thoughts ("Of course I get a sinus infection; it's not like I have to sing or anything this weekend."). Alright, there was a bit of that, but only a bit and it was overshadowed by my being a proactive and willful motherfucker. I took care of my car and in doing so I cleared up a couple of ongoing, mysterious issues with it in one fell swoop; I hit the yoga mat with vigor despite feeling sluggish and ill; I practiced my music when I could and told myself I'd be better the night of the show. I brought the ruckus, son!
I woke up Saturday morning with an aching jaw courtesy of my ailing sinuses. That was a new development I wasn't exactly giddy about. I tried running through a couple of songs and not only did my voice sound nasally and crusty, singing hurt like a motherfucker. Really, I thought. What.The.Fuck? Still, I didn't wallow in it, this misfortune. I practiced some yoga, meditated for an hour, took a long, steamy shower.
I felt better later and picked up Pat and Allie and headed over to Charlestown to grab a PA head and a couple of mics from Pat's rehearsal space. To and fro we listened to Led Zeppelin's Presence which got me pumped to play some music.
I was in good spirits when we got to the art studio, despite not knowing whether any of my friends would be coming. Only a few bothered to respond to any of my invites. I wasn't expecting a great turnout, but at the very least I hoped people would be courteous enough to at least acknowledge they were invited to the show. At least they were being consistent in their disregard.
Anyway, fuck 'em because it was a great night with some great friends. I got to see Kate (who took a bus to get there! - impressive), Craig, Foley, Pam, Pat,Allie, and a bunch of other solid people, some newly met. Hell, Missy D was in the house! Great atmosphere. The art was a pleasure to view and some fine conversations were had. Before I went on, almost all of us went outside and had a few (perhaps even more) puffs of a decreasingly illicit substance. Nina was in attendance. Have I mentioned her here before? I think I have, maybe indirectly. Perhaps I'll elaborate in a future post.
My set went well, despite numerous little screw ups. The audience was attentive, except for Missy D, who at various intervals, whined a bit ("Why is everyone so quiet and sitting still? And more importantly, why is no one rubbing my belly?"). She can be a bit of a diva, but it doesn't make me love her any less. I am smitten.
Afterward, I got some great feedback from people, particularly from a few I didn't know. I had noticed a couple of them sitting near the back of the room during my set. They seemed to be getting into it. Anyway, I won't bother relating what was said to me - I'd like to keep my ego in check at least slightly - but it was touching and got me to thinking about some things.
Well, it's time to go. Been watching Norm MacDonald's sublime Podcast. During each episode, he and his guests read jokes off of cards that Norm prepares. Some very, very funny stuff. I'll leave you with one I liked.
"I believe in only two things: No Means No and Never Take No For An Answer".
G'night, you damn dirty apes.
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