February 22, 2009

1:05 p.m.

Tired Eyes and Happy

Got in at 2am from New Jersey. We'd driven up from Annapolis in the afternoon and played a gig. As we were less than three hours from home, we opted to wake up in our own beds.

We split the night with Wes, who played not with his partner but a semi-solo set. The semi part was that he brought along a bass player and a mandolin player whom he met 2 weeks ago at a jam. They hadn't rehearsed prior to the night and did most of their set during the long sound check. They were sounding pretty good. Unfortunately the mando player apparently did not know how to tune his instrument. By show time it was really out and no amount of his fussing with the tuner seemed to improve his intonation. Most unfortunate. Carol and I sang backup on one of his songs, and there was this mandolin, plucking away, in several slightly different keys. I had this crazy, Monty Python moment where I imagined someone in the audience shooting him (BANG! --thunk) and the song just going on as if nothing had happened. Uncharitable, I know, but tuning is sort of a cardinal rule of playing in front of people.

Wes was rusty on his solo material, as usual. He has this very endearing personality which makes up for a certain amount of looseness in the performance, and his voice is just heavenly. But it was pretty clear that his ensemble was hastily assembled. Still, a good time was had.

A couple of dear friends of mine were able to come to the show. That made me really happy. One was my friend Diane whom I met at MacDowell. She's recently been diagnosed with some kind of massive tumor in her stomach, and we didn't know if she'd be in the hospital or what this week. But she was able to make it. She's lost some weight but she was her usualy chipper, loving self. I love her so much! She's applied to MacDowell again for the same period as me, and also another composer friend of ours named Alvin who was there last year. What a gas it would be to have the old clan together again!

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I struggled a lot, yesterday, with painful crap. No sooner had I come up with this great idea to do a ritual where I exonerate and forgive everyone in my past/present that I can think of, from whom I have perceived slights, bruises, umbrages, insult and ruination -- including, when necessary, myself -- than the Universe saw fit to start having people irritate, annoy and slight me all in a row. It made sense, in a way; it's all the same practice whether you're isolating a past event and trying to work through that in a forgiving, "We all did the best we can" way, or having someone barge into your space without notice and screw up your mind and your morning in the very present. Thanks, Universe. You're right on top of my shit, aren't you?

I feel better today. And it's nice to know that such turbulence does not affect the enjoyment of a gig.

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In the Very Interesting News department, I received a message from Marc yesterday that the "crotchety old man" who lived in the big white house next to theirs died, and no one lives there now. I have no further information but have been very keen on the house ever since I first saw it through the trees of Rose's back woods. It's very recessed from the road so it's virtually invisible. Big, white, large back yard, some acres of woods. Marc wants an acre or two of its cleared land to use for his farming. If the estate takes a good while to get sorted out, it may be that Dar and I will be in a position to move forward with house plans by the time it goes on the market, if it does. I would live right next door to my sister! How many times have I driven past their house and thought how amazing it would be if that house came available?

I should be able to talk with them about it tonight. They're in New Hampshire right now, buying a Dynahoe.

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Today: day off. I am doing some data entry, which has piled up, but the big jobs for this week -- sorting out taxes and doing the eBay store -- will begin tomorrow. Today I'm doing whatever I damn please whenever I damn please to do it. This will include catching up on my neglected Netflix, playing around on Facebook, reading, eating soup and sorting laundry for tomorrow. And possibly finishing the little knitting project I'm doing for Pearl. And trying not to scratch my fingers to pieces. (The vinegar worked great for a couple of weeks and then all hell broke loose. Whom do I have to forgive and exonerate for this again?)

Anyway, nice rainy Sunday, loving being at home.