Midweek News & Notes

Last night was loads of fun. I drove so I didn’t drink -- which of course meant everyone else around me was in an unusually heavy, hearty and happy drinking mode – so I was a little more reserved than I usually am at a show but that certainly didn’t mean I enjoyed it any less. Most amusing moment? When Gina from Rockit Girl asked what you called an Italian prostitute and I shot back with "Kip!" before she had a chance to deliver the actual punchline.¹ Also, why is Rockit Girl not huge yet? They debuted with their new drummer last night, who I must’ve met at some time in the past since he was in Sarge, and I don’t think they’ve ever had a better line-up. Also, I must’ve been laying out some pretty heavy “almost-married” vibes since it seemed like every girl in the place wanted to talk to me. It was amusing. Sorry ladies, he’s taken.

• Monday I made a last-minute appointment for an eye exam since my last pair of contacts were basically killing my eyes. The guy I used was great but at the end of the appointment he dilated my eyes and told me that while I’d be able to drive and such, I shouldn’t plan on reading anything for the next few hours. I said whatever, that’s fine. And then I spent the next two hours flabbergasted that while I could see fine I actually couldn'’ read! It was pretty wild. Also, he gave me a pair of those obnoxious shades like the ones little old people drive with since my eyes were going to be overly sensitive to sunlight. I said whatever, that’s fine. Ands then resisted putting them on even though I was squinting so hard I was tearing up as I fumbled towards my car.
  
  
• For the record, nookie yesterday actually did consist of a friendly hug and a handshake. Photogal’s mom decided to come and visit and welcome her home as well.
  
  
• Why am I so tired this morning? I came home right after the show and wasn’t drinking so I shouldn’t be dragging my feet as much as I am. I’m literally fighting the impulse to climb back in bed and sleep for another hour instead of going to the gym. What’s up with that?
  
  
• So, Terry Schiavo was blind, eh? Couldn't even see her parents, huh? See the perils of diagnosis via viseo from the senate floor Dr. Frist? Idiot.
  
  
• The bassist in another of the bands last night, The Juliet Dagger, looked a bit like my ex-girlfriend Claudia. She was pretty hot but in a weird déjà vu sort of way. Also their drummer killed. Come to think of it, last night was a really good night to see hard-hitting, inventive drummers. It was awesome.
  
  
• Apparently I'm going to have to quit smoking. I told Photogal a while ago, never figuring she'd actually take me up on the offer, that if she joined a gym and went four times a week that I would quit smoking. Guess who's joining a gym this weekend? The end result? An even hotter girlfriend and a boy who doesn't feel like his lungs are going to explode at the conclusion of a little hugging and handshaking. I'm game.
  
  
• It was a little weird being in the venue I turned into a rock club last night. Before I took over booking the joint years ago it was a funk and jazz bar and people thought I was nuts for trying to book rock bands in there. Now it's primarily known as a rock club albeit one with a bit of a split personality since hip-hop and Samba still hold on to a few nights a week. It's just funny because a whole younger generation will never know how much that place blew until I went in and did so much hard work fighting uphill to change the joint. More than one person there tlast night old me how they wished I still booked the place since I was on the way to turning it into one of the coolest rooms in the city, and while such talk flattered me I think that my leaving probably worked out best in the long run.

Holy moley! Only two weeks until my birthday! It kind of snuck up on me this year. Guess I'd better get going so I can work on that three-page wish list with twelve pages of expanatory footnotes...

¹Inside joke, obviously.