May 09, 2004

11:16 p.m.

Gettin' outa Dodge

For once I haven't felt much like updating, but thought I would since I'll be gone for four days starting tomorrow. We have a big fat cool gig in NYC tomorrow night, with some excellent players backing us (like we need a backup band, but it'll be really dense and exciting) with whom we haven't played yet. We'll rehearse a little in the afternoon -- they've already been working with a CD and some charts, so I expect they'll be prepared.

The logistics of playing a NYC gig are myriad and tiresome. It's such a pain to drive in, I'm making us meet in NJ and leave my car at Carol's parents' (soon to be sold) house, so we only have to deal with one vehicle in the city. Parking is a nightmare and with so much equipment, nothing can be left in the car unattended. I don't know why I insist on making such a fuss about driving in New York. But I seem to love my aversion to it. Anyway, then lodging is always a problem unless we skip out to the NJ house -- don't know what we'll do later on when it isn't available any more. This time we'll stay overnight there, and then I'll skip out to the yoga center on Tuesday morning. We get to stay three days when we have a gig there, resting or taking yoga classes, or hiking in the beautiful woods. C&C have a couple of music therapy type gigs on Tuesday so they'll join me later.

Hm, as I was writing that, I saw New Upstairs Across the Hall Guy for the first time ever. He moved in maybe a couple of months ago (or more?) and I'd never run into him yet. But I think he smokes because sometimes it's in the hall now. So it's almost 11:30pm and I hear these thumping footsteps coming downstairs, and then a knock on my Indian neighbor's door. Hmm? Hey, buddy, he goes to bed at night! I wondered what he wanted... so of course I crept to my door and looked out the peephole.

He knocked and waited, knocked and waited, and waited... raised his hand again, and hesitated. I knew exactly how he felt. Finally he knocked again, and a sleepy Indian Neighbor answered the door. It turns out he's been leaving his bathroom fan on all night (for what reason I can't imagine, unless it's to drown out someone ELSE's noise) and Upstairs Guy was really quite peeved at not being able to sleep, again, because of the droning noise. Could he please turn it off at night? Yes, he said, he would. Thanks, Upstairs Guy said, in a voice that really meant, "You asshole."

Kind of tense these days in my building, eh?

I'm so sick of apartment buildings with thin walls and noisy fans and scary neighbors and music I hate. Gettin' outa Dodge, pardners. Gettin' outa here, I think, whether the Springfield apartment is right or not. I could stay at Rose's and look around at my leisure, and save my money. Sounding better all the time.

Now it's bedtime anyway. Don't forget me while I'm gone.