music
April 9

San Francisco

It's been coming at me for years, the need to do something musical, and while I've done plenty of writing and started recording before leaving Los Angeles, I hadn't performed in public for years. I've been making noises about starting a band, and I'm closer to that than ever before, but this Sunday I had a solo performance, and not the kind you'd see on a video.

I answered a posting on a local on-line bulletin board, a curator was looking for a musical component for his experimental art series. I sent off a post on the off chance that he still needed somebody and a couple days later, there I was walking through the Castro wearing a red jumpsuit, silver boots, sunglasses and carrying my keyboard.

"Get her in the red suit!" I heard from somewhere, I just kept walking. A star does not stop to micromanage every reaction by the public. Plus, I was late.

Hold up, I made the mistake of leaving the radio on and sat through the news. I can't believe the baldface deception bullhorned by this administration. No plans to invade anyone else? No list of countries to attack? Democratic values have to come from within? Within what? Rumsfeld's earwax? Who switched the thinking, analytical Collin Powell with the animatron who spits out doublespeak and keeps pronouncing Hussein's first name as 'Sodom'? Hey 'Colon', what have they done with the real Powell?

Now Rumsfeld wants more time to look for weapons of mass destruction. Amazing. I got to turn the radio off or I'll never finish this.

Ok, then I heard my name called, so I turned around and it was two friends of mine- in a car. They offered to give me a ride to the gallery. I knew both these guys biblically before they met, and in my mind credited myself in some small way for assisting in their jointification.

I got to the tiny gallery in time, and realized I forgot to bring a stand for my keyboard, so the curator and I fashioned one out of chairs. I kept my dark glasses on in keeping with the 'Surveillance' theme of the show, pulled out my list of sounds that I picked out the night before, and improvised for nearly four hours.

I loved it. I got to be part of the exhibit as I was placed in a window that was mostly covered with a blanket. I just kept playing, adding sound effects like helicopters and seashore to the background. Since background was all I was supposed to be, I kept the music quiet, very 'Hearts of Space'.

Some people acknowledged me on their way out (a tip jar! that would have been... tacky) though because I was wearing dark glasses and had my back to the exhibit, I felt more like an installation than a performer.

Taking off my dark glasses during a break didn't help me in my search for meaning in the art around me, but it did help me find food at the snack table. Even though I qualified my subsequent actions with a strong 'I'm hungry!' I don't think it quite prepared the tiny art crowd for my big appetite. Luckily for them I was limiting my sugar intake.

The time flew and soon I was thanking the curator for the opportunity and walking through the Mission in my rock star get-up. I waited for a MUNI bus, thinking of what I could cook when I got home, nourished by the knowledge that I could still get out there and perform in front of groups of people- with my clothes on.

My friend DJ Bus Station John took me out for lunch yesterday, part of his thanks for helping him obtain a huge record collection last week in the East Bay. Twenty moving boxes full of albums. Down two flights of stairs into my truck. Up four flights to his apartment. But it was my first paying gig (a tip jar...) of the week, so I accepted his offer.

Luckily I cracked the whip because when you get two record collectors together, nothing else matters but sifting though and picking out albums- the former owner rummaging for stuff he now wished to hold on to, and the inheritor, wanting to listen to stuff and getting particular about what he was going to take. They would still be there Memorial Day if it wasn't for me hurrying the process and juggling details like the parking meter. To my benefit, a client called and so I got to set a time limit on my involvement. And the operated knee came in handy.

Saturday night I tracked down the rugby team and hung out with them during their post-banquet romp through the Castro. It was strange to see them wearing ties, shirts with buttons that go all the way down the front, and long pants, but I had a great time. I went to recruit a couple guys and it turned out they were from Los Angeles, so I gave them Fog business cards so they could find the LA team.

Filed an extension today, and that's all I have to say about taxes for now.

what I'm listening to: the Tavis Smiley Show.
what I'm reading: National Geographic

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