August 23, 2004

11:31 p.m.

Revenant

This entry is so titled because it's the first word in a long time that a singer songwriter has used in a lyric, that I had to look up later. It means "one who returns." So when I go to another part of the country to sing, and then come back here to talk about it, I am the revenant... as are you, for that matter. Welcome back.

It second meaning is "ghost," and I'm sure you all have yours as well.

********

I'm surprised at how many congratulations I've received, from people known and unknown, on performing the William Heave-Ho. While I'm perfectly aware that no amount of cajoling from outside would have hurried the process or the event, I'm still touched by all the support after the fact. Rose wrote me that "I hope it hurts his widdle feelings, not because I want him to hurt, but because he ought to know what it feels like to be slighted." I replied, "I hope it hurts his widdle feelings too, and makes him mad, and then I hope he remembers all the songs and poems I've written about him (though he never heard/read them all) and feels weawwy, weawwy bad."

Such is the fate of the inconsistent and clueless.

********

Meanwhile we played a kick-ass set last Saturday night, inspired by the many excellent performers we got to see and meet. Judging the new song contestants was actually fun and very informative, and I feel like I have a leg up in case I ever enter something again. We were treated like gold all weekend (it makes up for the lack of pay) and it does look like Mountain Stage is a real possibility for us at some point.

C&C are going to our Maine retreat house tomorrow, and I'll follow either Wednesday or Thursday. We have through the weekend, so I'm just getting things done here at a moderate pace and I'll go when I'm ready.

********

And meanwhile again, I just remembered I'd started an entry in West Virginia on my palm, so I'll put it right here with all its additional details of our weekend, and a swath of my personal angst in the bargain. Enjoy.

********

Friday, 11:34pm
Charles Town, WV

I haven't had a moment to write yet, though this is our second night. Carol and I drove here all day yesterday, through cloudy weather and one whopper of a storm that made us pull over for about 15 minutes. Vestiges of Charlie. We arrived almost before the festival was ready for us; all the lodging is in what used to be a huge, long barn, and was at some point remodeled into a gradeschool on the first floor, and dorm rooms on the second. It's a very interesting building but after one night of almost no sleep (owing to the usual people coming in late and making noise, as well as the incredibly hot temperature in the room which only cooled off after about 2am), I booked myself a hotel room for tonight. We're on the mainstage tomorrow and I really wanted to get some good sleep.

Meanwhile, though, Carol and I each helped judge new song competition hopefuls in the morning. We'd never judged before although both of us have been in multiple songwriting competitions ourselves, so at least we know what it's like on that side of the mic. This taught me a lot about what the judges are looking for. It was fun and later we were in a song swap on the alternate stage with three other really excellent performers. During this hour and a half event, Chris arrived from North Carolina and was able to join us for our last tune. We felt like we were bringing in a ringer.

So we come in anonymous, and after our first appearance everybody knows our names; we're locally famous. It tickles me. In fact even before we played anything, the presenters and organizers here treated us like gold. It's a wonderful event, though it's only the third year and it hasn't hit its stride yet (or its audience capacity). It can't be considered a money gig. We'll do it for all the other reasons, and next month we'll play some venues that will line our pockets.

I heard some songs that will stay with me and did a CD swap with one of my favorite newly discovered writers. He's actually had several songs covered by Alison Kraus, among others.

I also caught a few really choice photos; I'll try to remember to post one here in particular. A little girl was playing catch with her older brother, using a huge, almost weightless inflated beach ball. Every time she'd try to catch it, she'd fling her arms out wide and throw her head back, and her ringlets would dance. I got her just as she caught the ball.

They're serving breakfast tomorrow but only until 9:00, so I need to get to bed if I'm getting up early enough for a free meal.

********

Saturday, 3:08pm

While I got a very reasonable night's sleep at the Budget Inn, my mates slept until 3am when someone started playing songs in the room next door. That kept them up for some time -- why they didn't go over and ask the guy to stop I can't imagine. It was someone who judged with me yesterday, and he apologized profusely today when I casually mentioned it to him this morning: he was on Percocet for his injured hand, he'd had too much wine, he thought he was playing softly. Why anyone would take the chance at that hour when the whole dorm is clearly asleep is beyond me. Anyway I was glad for my haven here.

So I went over early for breakfast and we heard some songs in the round. After lunch we stood under trees by the mainstage, as it was raining rather consistently by then, and heard a band we like called We're About 9. Then I came back here for a little rest and a shower. I've had neither so far, as I've been farting around here doing other things, so I probably won't get back for the afternoon workshop I was going to attend. Oh well; who wants to sell songs to other people anyway? ("I do, I do!") But it's just not going to happen.

Carol was fishing to find out whether I was attracted to a certain songwriter we played with in the round and saw again playing this morning, and spoke with. She kept naming all these things about him that she called "attractive," like what a good songwriter he is, and how much he loved my writing, and this whole sort of Buddha-friendly attitude, and how interested he was in hearing about the crickets. (I've written about the crickets, right? The link I found on somebody's diary here, and I'm sorry that I can't remember right now whose it was.) And so she says, "Do you find him at all attractive?" and I said no, because even though I agreed with all these things she was saying, I didn't find him physically attractive. "But you guys have so much in common!" she insisted. "He has a beer belly," I said. "He has a Buddha belly!" she insisted. So for a minute I chastised myself for being superficial, but then I remembered that Will, for example, ain't no prize specimen of manhood, yet I was just crazy about him in every way. So I guess it's a pheremone thing. Maybe I should go live with ants.

By the time I was driving back to the hotel, by myself, I realized I had a massive sugar craving and I stopped at a Food Lion to see what would assuage it. After spending far too long in the bakery section, wishing Carol had never brought up this guy because now I was feeling all awkward and insecure which I haven't felt in a long time, and the seed she planted was just bringing up some icky stuff that I wasn't dealing with before and now it's kind of tainting my good time here; and knowing beyond a doubt that a Baby Watson cheesecake would cancel out these feelings for a good ten minutes or so, I bought a small one. It was a little overkill -- I know most of it will go to waste -- but the ridiculousness of the purchase won't go far enough to embarrass me, as I won't be telling anyone. (Well, aside from telling an unknown number of strangers who may read this.) So I got it back to the hotel room and I was all looking forward to it, just taking a spoon and eating random bites because I don't have to share it with anyone, so I can just eat the parts adjacent to the graham cracker crust if I want. I took off the top and realized it was frozen solid.

Hm. That's no road to instant gratification.

I took out the hair dryer.

You can thaw a frozen cheesecake with the low setting on a hair dryer, fast enough to scrape little layers off the top. It's more fun that way anyway.

My little mental mess was tidied up before I'd eaten much, so I put it away and now it's time for a wee nap.

Ugh, ach, I've just been bad with men. I've made poor choices and had bad luck.

(It reminds me of the scene from Moonstruck, where Nicholas Cage says to Cher, "Why are you marrying my brother?" and she says, "Because I have no luck!")

(I may have written that here before.)

Rather than go into the "Woe is me in relationships" loop tape, I think I'll rest and get ready for our stunning and brilliant performance this evening.

********

Okie Dokie, that ended the remote entry and now I've told you the rest, except that abovementioned musician turned out to be married anyway, which of course made me think, "See, if I had taken Carol's advice I'd have been disappointed anyway!" and other self-righteous blurtings. All of that did not alter the excellence of the weekend and we were happy with our performances. The other news item is that I got a quote from Mayflower and engaged them for the move next month - a glorious thing.

I have a lot to do tomorrow but any day I get to sleep in is like a day off, so I'll look forward to that. Good night and return, sleepers, revenants.