beautiful, funny, sad & true

Pretty dang good weekend.

Spent Friday evening with Joan.  We intended to watch a movie, but it took so long to make dinner, and we had such a late start, that she ended up leaving after that.  Saturday I cleaned my apartment and did about a million loads of laundry, then I had a gig with Susie, and we stayed out too late drinking and talking.  Sunday I talked on the phone a lot, and then finally got the new tubes put on my bike.  Went to meet Joan again after all that, and we went to a good, cheap sushi place on Northwest 21st, then decided to go see The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.  It was a very touching and emotional movie; many people in the audience were sniffling or choked up.  I certainly was.  I can’t wait to read the book, and I highly recommend the movie.

Yesterday I took the day off from work, in order to play accordion on a radio show with Breanna and BassistChris for the Local Music Spotlight show.  As soon as Breanna posts the song on her MySpace page, I’ll post a link to it here for you to check out.

When you first walk into the building, there are five large-screen televisions in the lobby.  I turned to Chris and gestured to them.  “Wow, there sure a a lot of TV’s for a radio station,” and then we both turned around to see the huge sign proclaiming NewsChannel 8, the NBC TV affiliate.

We played two songs, and were done and out of there in about forty-five minutes, with CD in hand.  Apparently the songs will start being played on the air in June, at approximately the same time that the radio station’s compilation CD – on which one of Breanna’s songs will be featured – will be released.  After we were done, we went and had sushi at the same place Joan and I had been to the day before.   That’s how good it was.

I rode my bike to work today, which was the first time I’ve been on a bike in about two years.  It felt great.  That is, it WOULD have felt great if I’d eaten dinner last night, and drunk any water at all, and gotten more than four hours of sleep.  I totally bonked as soon as I got to work, and instantly gulped down three bottles of water before even having to use the bathroom once.  (Don’t you just love my blog?)  Ate a huge chicken burrito for lunch, and kept drinking water for the rest of the day, which made the ride home MUCH easier.  I’m not gonna lie, though.  I’m pathetically and comically lazy and out of shape, ever since I got my car.  But not anymore.  It’s a whole new spring, and time to shake off this lethargic winter.  This experience was a reminder that there’s a right way to exercise, and that I have to plan in advance in order to have enough energy reserves to do what I want my body to do.  Looking forward to a lot more riding!

And much more spring.  After many freezing weeks, it looks like spring is finally going to come, and the weekend is supposed to be hot and beautiful.  I, however, will be in Port Townsend, Washington, to play accordion with Fenbi, the Irish band.  I’m sure it’ll be just as beautiful up there.  Love that town.  The best pastry shop I’ve ever been to in my entire life is there.  Why, that would be the Tyler Street Coffee House; I’m glad you asked.   If I lived in Port Townsend, I’m sure I’d weigh four hundred pounds from eating there all the time.  So f’ing good.

Today at work, a friend surprised me by giving me six CD’s.  They’re almost all by groups I’ve never heard of, too, which makes it even more exciting.

I find myself, again, at a loss of how to tie up all these little loose ends, and come up with a really good name for this entry.

Well, since this was just a plain old good weekend, all around, I suppose that means that the name should be. . .

I got an e-mail the other day from someone I haven’t heard from in about four months. It was nice to hear from her. She wrote me because she saw a web site that reminded her of me, and she wanted to share it. The guy who made the web site is an artist and a photographer, and he had a funny and slightly odd (but honest enough) idea, which was to just ask people for money, directly, so that he can go do things. In return, the person will get a letter, or a photograph, or a smallish gift, or even one of his art works, in exchange for their patronage.

And his scope is broad, too. If you send him a dollar, he’ll ‘sit in silence and think about you’ for one minute, and if you send him $4,444.00, he’ll go to the island of St. Helena and ‘take a picture of the sky and mail it to you from there. Nothing else.’ Some of his ventures are more altruistic than others, and those are the ones that seem to be the most successful. I mean, if most people have an extra four grand lying around, they’ll take themselves to St. Helena, and take a million pictures of everything, but lots of people like the idea of giving away chocolate chip cookies to strangers. I think it was his idea of buying and handing out copies of the Little Prince outside of the Stock Exchange that reminded my friend of me.

What I love about this idea is its simple ingenuity. He’s very honest about what he’s doing. It seems like he’s a slightly lonely but decent guy, who’s stumbled upon an unusual and cool way to reach out to people, and to do his art at the same time.

So I say gawd bless him. I plan to follow up on him, and I’ll even go so far as to post a link to his page in my blogroll, to make it easier for all of us to chart his progress.

Here’s the link to his page.

Tossed In, an avid and extremely prolific blogger in his own right, and I were talking the other day about the bad reputation that blogs have. Most people don’t consider them legitimate forms of writing, even though more and more blogs every day are cited as sources for (start reading in stentorian tones. . .now) ‘serious’ news and reporting.

We wondered what it will take to get blogging taken more seriously. We didn’t really come up with an answer – other than to keep writing as well and as interestingly as we can, of course – but we both agreed that there’s more than enough material out there cluttering up the internet that gives bloggers in general a bad name. I’m sure this blog would NEVER fall into the ‘clutter’ category. Noooo way. Not even remotely possible.

I don’t have any delusions. I write to help myself remember things, and to have fun, and to share things that, with any luck, other people will enjoy as well. So far, most have. Some have not; c’est la vie. The precious few dissenters over the years have been blow-darted, or crushed by boulders, or bisected by light-rail commuter trains. In a few cases, pianos have mysteriously fallen on them from a great height. If you ask me to my face, I will vehemently deny all knowledge of these things.

But that, as they say, is neither here nor there; back to Tossed In. He called at eight o’ clock on Thursday morning to invite me to see a play that night. I had a gig with Susie, but luckily it was a super-early one, so I was able to go, and I’m very glad that I was. The play was A Long Christmas Ride Home, and it was strange, and surprising, and excellent. We may go see it a second time, which would actually be his third time. Afterwards, we went to the Blue Monk, the jazz club up the street from the theater, to say hello to some of the actors (he pretty much knows all of them, I know only a few) and to get some of the Blue Monk’s excellent food.

In other news, I’m borrowing a theremin for the next few days. This makes me very, very happy. One of my friends in the play-reading group wrote a semi-biographical play about the instrument’s inventor, and the group will be reading it this week. Since I’m the music guy in the group, I kept wondering what instrument I could bring that would sound even close to that. I was going to bring the cello, because it could be used in a similar way, but when Matt suggested I use his theremin, I jumped at the chance. Yay! I just know that I’m going to end up wanting (and buying) one of my own after this.

And while we’re on the subject, can I just take a minute to say how much I appreciate the play-reading group? Cause I do. They’re such tremendous people, who are interesting and professional and. . .alive, in a way that is very refreshing. It’s always nice to be around people who really ‘get it.’ They’re such a source of entertainment, friendship, and camaraderie that I make it a priority to be there, no matter how busy the rest of my life gets.

I’m thinking of rearranging the furniture in my apartment, but I don’t quite feel up to that task just yet. I don’t have a Plan for it, but I have a feeling I’m just going to end up doing it one weekend in the near future. It’s been about nine months or so since the last rearrangement, which was really more of a replacement than a rearrangement, because I got rid of some bookshelves and a computer desk that I’ve had for ages, and replaced them, but the new stuff is pretty much in the same spot that the old stuff was in, and it’s getting to be about time to shake things up again.

Wow, that was a really long sentence.

Oh yeah. . .and you can stop reading in stentorian tones now. Thank you.

OneYearAgo

Tonight was supposed to be a rehearsal for my gig tomorrow, but the rehearsal got cancelled.  So naturally, instead of sitting at home doing the things I should be doing – such as laundry – I looked for something fun to do, and tonight it was the Blue Cranes.

I called and texted and e-mailed, trying to get some friends to come to the show, but the overall concensus was that it was too short notice, so I ended up going by myself.  I did see some musician friends there, however, which I had a feeling might be the case.

My friend Keith is the bass player in this very swanky and melodic jazz group.  I’ve seen them before, but tonight was the release party for their new album (at one of my favorite venues), so I had no choice but to go.  And yes, I bought a CD.

Super good times.

You’ll also be interested to know that I checked in on yesterday’s fire twice today – once on my lunch break and once on the way home from work – and both times, there was still smoke coming up from the basement of the building.  I didn’t get a chance to watch the news, but I do know that at 5:30 this evening, the site was still smoking noticeably, and there were plenty of fire trucks and camera crews on the scene.

But right now, it’s time to chill out and listen to my new Blue Cranes CD.

I woke up this morning with this ancient They Might Be Giants song burning a hole in my skull.

I thought it would make for better (and funnier!) reading, if I would edit it a bit, and then just turn it into a miniature short story.

A woman came up to me and said, “I’d like to poison your mind with wrong ideas that appeal to you, though I am not unkind.” She looked at me; I looked at something written across her scalp, and these are the words that it faintly said, as I tried to call for help:

“There’s only one thing that I know how to do well, and I’ve often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well, and thats be you. Be what you’re like. Be like yourself. And so I’m having a wonderful time, but I’d rather be whistling in the dark.”

A man came up to me and said, “I’d like to change your mind by hitting it with a rock, though I am not unkind.” We laughed at his little joke, and then I happily walked away and hit my head on the wall of the jail, where the two of us live today.

There’s only one thing that I like, and that is whistling in the dark.

Hilarious. If I was any kind of graphic designer, I’d have found a picture of a woman with a shaved head, and Photoshopped that quote around her scalp in Gothic calligraphy. (I know, I know, ‘photoshopped’ isn’t a real verb! It’s called artistic license.) Perhaps that kind of picture manipulation is a skill that you have, and you’d like to take on this little project. Perhaps you’re a tattoo artist, and you will one day be lucky enough to find some woman with a shaved head who would like to have “There’s only one thing I know how to do well. . .”, et cetera, emblazoned on her head forever. You just never know.

After all this, of course, I wanted to know what the phrase ‘whistling in the dark’ really means. A quick search showed that it means “confident that something good will happen when it is not at all likely.”

Hunh.

What a strange morning this is already turning out to be. And now it’s time to eat breakfast and pack for my trip to Seattle.

Speaking of which, through a beautiful example of irony, my brother and his family, who live in Seattle–and whose house I’m staying at–will be in Portland this weekend for a little getaway, so that means I’m going to be up in their town while they’re down here in my town at the same time.

Praise the Lord for the gift of laughter.