the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
mikro, mack, and the spanish moon... ~ 2000-12-22 - 03:26:12 having an eaassssssyy time in baton rouge... the night started out slow, but mack dennis was there and he lent me his sunshine for a time and I just wrapped myself in that long louisianana drawl... the show was great, and the crowd was really nice. a bunch of us came back to jeremy's afterwards, and I horrified them all by ordering pizza with no cheese. new orleans was strange. let me tell you that for several years after my first new orleans adventure, I would have recurring dreams that I suddenly found myself back there, and they were always happy dreams. magical things would happen. so I was back in new orleans for the first time in 9 years. I haven't had a drink in 8 years. I didn't know what to do with new orleans without alcohol. there is beauty, there, and hints of magic, but also tremendous sadness and despair. hunger. I felt the weight of it pressing on me the entire time I was there, and it exhausted me. I spent a lot of my time hiding out at mikronaut's house. it's the first I've seen of him in a couple of years. there's something about a friend who's known you since you were 4. we grew up together, and we were both too smart for our own good, and with fantastic imaginations. we used to play elaborate imaginary games together every day after school. and every day all summer long. we caught shit for sitting together on the bus in grade school. we only see each other once every year or two now, but it's always easy and good when we do. we know how to share space without talking comfortably. we'll sit in the same room and not speak for hours, each reading our books. we're neither of us very far from the kids we used to be. I don't remember when he got tall, though, and he always forgets how long I haven't been drinking. but we both have excellent memories and vivid recall of our childhoods. so many of my friends have lousy memories, it makes it hard sometimes, to be the one stuck remembering everything. mikronaut and I went to montessori school together, which was very cool, and from which I don't think either of us has fully recovered. mikro has also spent a lot of time on the road. he tends to move in anarchist/squatter circles, but he has all kinds of friends. I don't live in that scene anymore, but I'm still really comfortable there. mikro lives in your basic falling down, dirt cheap, anarchistocommunal type house. most of the food in the house comes out of the dumpster out back of the health food store. I decided to inventory a recent haul for those of you not familiar with the art of dumpster diving: a head of lettuce, a couple of large rutabagas, a sweet potato, a container of flavorless raspberries, a couple of bell peppers and tomatoes, some grapes, a package of cinnamon rolls, several ham sandwhiches, a couple of loaves of white bread and a couple of jars of jif peanut butter. those last two items courtesy of the film crew who woke me up one morning, all morning long, and "rolling! cut!" kept echoing in my dreams, and I thought that the neighbors were shooting a porn movie. my last night in new orleans, I went and hung out with patty and her friends, then went walking restlessly through the quarter. don't ask me what I was looking for. maybe I was looking for the new orleans of my dreams. or my memories. there are things I love about it. there are things about it that are very hard on me. I want to love new orleans, I do. but mostly it just makes me tired. I dislike the walls I have to put up in a place like new orleans. I cherish my openness, and openness is not a possibility in new orleans. there was a great open mike there, called pozazz. good people, good energy, drums, and they GAVE up the love, in a big way. and mack dennis was there! I love mack. he's got a new CD out himself, _The Mack Man_, check it out when he's near you. and the reading tonight at spanish moon was just lovely. I made enough money for gas to milwaukee AND cheeseless pizza. I'm heading out on the long drive home in the morning. wish me luck in the snows of wisconsin.
(((rings))) |