I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.
The trouble with fighting for human freedom is that one spends most of one's time defending scoundrels. For it is against scoundrels that oppressive laws are first aimed, and oppression must be stopped at the beginning if it is to be stopped at all.
Many people would sooner die than think; In fact, they do so
What I have been telling you, from alpha to omega, what is the one great thing the sigil taught me — that everything in life is miraculous. For the sigil taught me that it rests within the power of each of us to awaken at will from a dragging nightmare of life made up of unimportant tasks and tedious useless little habits, to see life as it really is, and to rejoice in its exquisite wonderfulness. If the sigil were proved to be the top of a tomato-can, it would not alter that big fact, nor my fixed faith. No Harrowby, the common names we call things by do not matter — except to show how very dull we are ...
March 05, 2012 - 12:08 a.m.
It's before nine and I'm writing! I have consistently been getting not enough sleep but at least I got myself writing early again. Now if I can only get myself to take care of my email. It is weird being me, even for me.
First off I wrote an epic tale yesterday and not many people read it so go back now and read about Emily Elbert and Mark Allen Berube in A Pair of Aces. I just realized something, I should give more pronunciation guidance; Berube rhymes with "her new bee."
Yesterday afternoon I managed to read most of the New York Times and to talk to Leah for two and a half hours! I can't remember the last time I talked that long to anyone. We talked of shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings. I don't think we actually got to any of the topics but we did have an argument about the relative talents of the Beatles. I still love Leah even though she's wrong.
I had another musical doubleheader lined up yesterday but wimped out and made it a single show night. I wanted to be able to have a relaxed dinner at home and watch The Monkees marathon on TV. For dinner I forced myself away from my soup addiction and had jerk chicken with Cajun roasted potatoes with garlic cheese bread. Does that sound as good and self-indulgent to you as it does to me? Yet it was a real fight not making the bacon-potato-garlic soup. I'm making that tonight. I can resist anything but temptation.
The show I went out to see was Deni Bonet (rhymes with penny cone day) at The Living Room. I did the opposite of my usual leaving compulsively early. I planned on getting there only ten or fifteen minutes before she was getting on then got delayed a bit then the train was slow and I got there eight minutes late! Horror of horrors! When I walked in the room and saw the band on stage and heard music I thought I missed the beginning. I didn't, that was the end of sound check. They were running a bit behind. Whew. I then had the challenge of finding a seat. I spotted my usual seat at my usual table and to make it even better the people at the table were my friends Bob and his wife whose name I knew last night but is now lost in the cobwebs of my skull where my brain is supposed to be. I know I'll make up for it by calling her his lovely wife. I'm smooth. After I sat down I spotted Bruce then Coco. They have become the people that I run into the most. Coco always hides from me and I spot Bruce first. I'd get paranoid if I weren't already paranoid.
I don't think I've seen Deni since NERFA in November and that's too long. She puts on as good a live show as anyone and her talent mix is different than anyone else in my circles. Not many people mix virtuoso violin with party songs and brash humor. I'd love to see a scan of my brain during he shows it would be lighting up all over the place in psychedelic patterns. You need to see her with me. Give yourself a treat.
I need to come up with new things to say about Deni. I've known her for a decade and have written about her many times but she is still new to most of my Gentle Readers so I feel a need to write more.
After the show Bob and his lovely wife left. I talked to Coco and Bruce for a short time before they had to head back to the wilds of Brooklyn. Then I spotted someone else I knew in the audience Doug from the band Piñataland. We have a strange and fun relationship. We don't talk except when we run into each other and then we have amazing conversations about music. We love each other's taste, we live in the same city, but our musical crowds are almost totally disjoint. We can always learn from each other. Deni is common ground, she often plays with Piñataland.
They threw us out of the main room because the next show had an admission and we moved out to the bar where I hung out with Doug and Deni's entourage mainly her husband Andy and Paul her manager, sound guy, and friend. Paul and I have weird random conversations too. We actually talked about vegan cuisine, yes me the king of carnivores. I am thinking of making a vegan variation of the plantain and sausage soup. I need to find a good substitute for the sausage. I figured that would be useful if I wanted to cook for a group of people, I can give carnivore and herbivore options.
I of course also talked to Deni. I love going to a show myself and end up feeling like I'm spending the evening with friends.
On Thursday I got to enjoy hearing Honor Finnegan struggle trying to describe who I was to her friend Lisa. Figuring out my place in the folk world almost fascinates me. I mean I have no talent whatsoever yet I'm accepted as part of the community. Why? It isn't like I'm a real presenter or anything else in the business. What I am is Ragueneau. Does the name ring a bell with any of you? I'll give you a hint, it's from one of my favorite plays and I've mentioned it many times here. He's the comic relief tavern keeper in Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano's literary coterie meets at his place. Like me he is a no talent clump in the midst of an artistic community. He's accepted and indulged and in return he feeds them and gives them a place to meet. I of course don't feed anybody, I'm much more likely to mooch than to feed. What do I contribute? I'm a chronicler, photographer, spreader of buzz, and social lubricant. I bet Rick Santorum loves the sound of social lubricant. OK I love the sound of social lubricant. That's why I said it three times.
Of course I know that I'm fooling myself. I'm not accepted for my efforts or talents. In my heart of hearts I know I'm just eye candy. I'm a sexy sexy monotreme with a raw sex appeal akin to Maury Amsterdam and Perry the Platypus; though of course pitched at a lower level. Nobody is as sexy as Maury or Perry.
I signed the Pro-Truth Pledge:
please hold me accountable.
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On The Road Again - May 26, 2018
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 License.
Horvendile March 05, 2012
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