I Feel as Though There's Something I Needed to Tell You...Of course, I can't remember what that is just now. I haven't had time to write on this thing lately, so I'll just give you the brief on what's going on. Played again in Nashville with a friend of mine who does a solo bass thing with a looping station. We hadn't played in about a year, and a lot has gone on since then. Somehow, my life was quite a bit more dramatic a year ago, which is due to the shady motherfucker I'd been dating and who still had some purchase on my psyche and life a long while after the break-up. It was around last October that I got into a car accident, got a concussion, and his dumb ass couldn't even come to check on me because he was too fucked up. Anyway...after a dramatic month of October a year ago, and an emotional decision on election day (2 Nov 04), I haven't spoken to him. So a year. This is a side note and not really the point here. This all sounds a bit too confessional and honest. I feel like it's a scene from the
Real World. I almost erased all that, but decided against it. It is because of all those events, that is to say, that I remember the last time I'd played with C J in public. It was around this time when he had a cd release party / show, and since I was on the album, I also played in October with him. So anyway...we played a week or so ago, and lots of people from the department showed up, and we had a good time. He had a saw player accompany him for one song, then did a solo song, and he and myself closed out the show and evening. Most of the comments that evening (so I'm told) were about that song / the cello / etc. which is good to hear, since I don't toot my horn about that stuff usually.
Then a couple of days later, a bird pooped on my face while I was in the park. I bet you didn't see that segue coming! (but it's all true). I was in a bad mood, and was reading this thing by Greenberg about taking the time to stop and look and notice and what have you, and so I was at the Parthenon trying my best to do just that. I was looking at the structure and all the different images on the cornice, and trying to decide which one I liked best (some were more combative than others, perhaps Neptune was involved, some just two figures...) and then this huge flock of birds starts to go by. And I'm swinging, and I look up. I even think to myself that one of these birds could potentially shit on me. If I hadn't looked up, it would have been in my hair. But, due to my "foresight" if you want to call it that, or attention to beauty, it crapped on my face, just below the hair line. Although in a bad mood, I had to laugh. I was pissed off, but had to laugh anyway. And everyone I've told this story to, laughs as well. I think that's the point of being shat on. It's just damn funny, and you need to tell people about it because bird poop is funny, and sometimes makes someone's day.
So to sum up:
playing now reminds of past drama and concussions
bird poop is natural, preferable on face than on hair
and that, with a laugh, is beauty.
