i was in the 3rd row. even spilling ~$5 worth of my $6 gin and tonic did not sully the evening. they played for 2.5 hours, one song off each album- "comedown" was the one they did of my favorite of theirs, 'magician among the spirits'.
marty the guitarist.
peter the keyboardist, guitarist, mandolinist, harmonicanist.
steve the bassist and one of my most beloved male singers. i love his dry delivery- like a male suzanne vega.
i had another one of those "i love seattle" moments. seeing the artists that provide the soundtrack to my life is a delightful feeling.
*
more hair-shrapnel from the missus. she almost let me shave her entire abdomen before getting thoroughly pissed off, so now she has uneven knickers and an undercarriage mohawk.
in an alley in pioneer square...
cliched angle, but it thankfully doesn't include the fucking red "westin" sign.
the blue study... a vacant used car lot on lake city way.
i had my headphones on at the time and sang "bend me, shake me" as loudly as possible whilst cars sped by, oblivious.
*
i awoke this morning in time to see the dawnzer lee light.
a few hours later i took a nap. and i dreamed.
i'm on a ferry across a pre-dawn bay. it's cold. the boat passes a pile of wreckage and smoke- a commercial jet has crashed in the water right beside the boat. the un-submerged part is on fire, the red-and-white tail of the plane obscured by thick smoke. the smoke is the same color as the water. there is a 'rescue plane' hovering beside it and firefighters spraying the flames with hoses. none of this is as loud as i'd expect- it's almost tranquil. little kids are running around on the deck of the ship, oblivious. their parents glance over casually.
it's daylight when we reach the dock- a quaint wooden boardwalk across sand and grass. the sun is warm. i am almost to the end of the dock when i realize i've left my bag on the boat. my bag contains everything i need- money, keys, identification, several hundred dollars of electronics. i start running back. the boat is already gone. i am utterly fucked and anonymous on an unfamiliar island. wreckage from the plane has already washed up on shore and more kids are playing with it- crawling into the remainders of the cabin, sliding down the smooth outside surface. the red and white paint shines in the morning.
then i am home. my home is exactly as it normally is. and he's back. his hair is completely white and straight; he looks frail and distant. i am sitting on the floor with my knees to my chest. he comes up behind me and rests his chin on the top of my head while running his hands down my bare arms. i tell him i wish he'd called more. "where are you staying now?" i ask. "with tim" he says. i turn around to look at him. "in india" he says. his face shows that he knows this devestates me. "when were you planning on telling me?" i ask quietly. "i'm telling you now" he says.
he goes on the deck, my deck, to smoke a cigarette. a friend of his is there, a tall stocky woman with a ponytail. i offer to make her some tea. "darjeeling" she requests. i am impressed at my poise and graciousness in a situation in which i want to burst into fucking tears. i am not giving in to the rushing patheticness. we talk about her nursing school. she is a stranger in both the dream and in reality.
and i wake up.
*
i was on my sofa, staring at the ceiling. and i felt this sudden giddy peace. it was a hideous dream that identified several deep, nagging fears in a very tidy, economical way. and in the dream i handled myself pretty fucking well. it's not that difficult. nothing really is.
del shannon's "runaway" is perfect trampoline music.
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