southlands

Writing from a breezy porch in Charleston, SC.

The tour so far has been successful. We played for small, but attentive audiences in Wilmington, NC, Charleston, SC and last night in Savannah, GA, which is basically the garden of eden. Seriously, the city is some kind of strange lush paradise full of funky art students and intensely bright flowers and moss hanging from trees. The gig was a good one. Great sound, nice, quiet audience. There were probably 15 people there but it was totally fine by me. I'd rather play for five quiet people than a bar full of loud drunks.

Speaking of... Our first gig in Wilmington, NC looked the most promising, but proved the least. There were two articles about me in town, one in the weekly arts paper and the other daily newspaper's music section, but amazingly no one came to see us because of it. When we started playing, there were 5 people there. Eventually the bar filled up but mostly with inattentive drinkers. The town was a serious college town, and I bet those kids just read the paper at the dining hall and then go out to pub crawls or something. These three really stoned dudes came in and stood in front of Rich howling and wooing at his guitar skills. I mean, Rich is awesome, no doubt. But the reaction was hilariously inappropriate for the music. He'd solo and they'd go "woooooo!!" and "hell yeah!!" and I was like, guys, we're playing folk music! One of them busted out his flute (not sure you can actually "bust out" a flute) and started soloing. Eventually I just chalked the whole night up to southern friendliness and tried to enjoy the scene. Afterward we went out for a late night snack at this mexican place that was recommended by a friend in NY. They don't serve burritos. Instead, they have a menu of faddis. This is pronounced "fatty." Makes you feel awkward when ordering. They were awful, but that's mexican in NC for you! On our way out of the faddi joint, we noticed the town had turned to a late-night club hang. There were girls in almost nothing almost everywhere. It was warm, but not that warm. I updated my facebook status to say "So many sluts!"

We played in Charleston on Thursday at the hostel we're currently staying at. We set up on the porch and a bunch of foreign guests and the hostel staff's friends gathered round. There was a big campfire burning and a lot of PBR drinking. A big group of kids from UNC were there -- they were actually from all over the world and doing a study abroad semester. Later on in the night, I saw the girl from Japan making out with the guy from Chile. We got photographed at that gig probably more than at any other ever. We're gonna go down in these kids' history as some kind of vague memory of strange American occurrence -- "On the big U.S. trip, we stayed at this hostel and this girl was playing. We all drank beers." After the show, I sold some CDs and met a nice gal named Rachel -- I got along with her instantly. Turned out she's a southern jew -- gotta love 'em -- and is moving to NYC.

So we were in Charleston for that gig, then slept, then got up and saw Savannah, played there, then drove back to our hostel in Charleston very late last night and are getting a late start again. All I've really seen so far of Charleston is this porch and the backyard. But today we are getting some grits and going out see Charleston. It's Easter Sunday, which tells me everything will be closed but hey, there's gotta be a Chinese restaurant for Rachel and the other southern Jews.

Free condoms!

Today I volunteered for NARAL, handing out free condoms and information about emergency contraception to passersby in Union Square. Marge and I set up near the 16th St subway exit. She caught most of the farmers market and park pedestrians and I harassed the people exiting the subway.

Other than 3 crazy people, everyone was pretty much thrilled to get free condoms. I became a state fair/auctioneer type alternating between one of the following invitations:

"Free condoms and information about Plan B!"
"Free condoms! That's right, ladies and gentlemen, they're free!"
"Free condoms today! Don't be shy; you know you want 'em!"
"Free condoms! And, if they don't work, there's still help!"

A couple observations from today:

1.) White people are way way weird about sex. I'd say one in 25 white people I offered a condom to actually took it. And at least half of them pretended they didn't even see or hear me. Many looked uncomfortable, even embarrassed to be offered contraception.

2.) Black people are far more open about sexuality and contraception. I'd say 1 in 5 black people I offered a condom to took it, and on top of that, most of the people that actually came up to me and asked for condoms (instead of having them directly placed in their hurried way) were black or hispanic.

3.) There is no way black people are having more sex than white people. And even though socioeconomics would dictate that whites have more money in general, and thus we could infer, more funds to purchase contraception with, there is just no way that this accounts for the huge difference in attitude. My conclusion is that culturally there is a lot of shame and repression about sex in the white community.

Onto the crazy people...
There were three. One told Marge condoms are "for cheaters and promiscuous people." Another was a homeless man who told us people with HIV should be put in jail. Oy! The third was a scrawny older man who came up to me and told me if I didn't stop what I was doing I would going to hell. I told him "thanks for the advice" and then he kept it up so I told him to "GO AWAY." So he did, but he just glommed onto Marge instead and told her she was a sinner. I went over to keep her company and ward off the psycho and suddenly we saw he had our condoms in his hand, was taking out his keys and was jabbing the keys through the condom packs violently while yelling at us.

I flipped him off.

Some of my favorite responses from the "free condoms" haranguing are:

"Oooh sex, yesss."
"I'll have to get a date first" (Heard this one several times)
"You don't got no magnums in there?"
"I'm celibate right now."
"I hope this is an omen."
"Now I know what I'm doing later!"

Overall a fun and worthwhile experience. In two hours volunteers in Union Square handed out 6,000 condoms and 3,000 info cards about Plan B. And there were volunteers in several other major subway areas as well.

I have a problem

I once again signed my own name when emailing from my fake booking agent's account. Where, oh where, is the new Gmail unsend feature!?!?

17lbs 48oz

Fat Deli Cat weighs 17 pounds, 48 ounces, according to the produce scale.

Ew

I am SO not into St. Patty's day themed baked good. Totally not cool.

Snow Day

[Passengers wait at bus stop during the biggest snow storm of the year.]
Stranger: This sucks! Just last week I heard a robin outside my window.
Me: That robin is probably dead.
Stranger: Serves him right for leading me on.

a job interview to remember.

I answered an ad on craigslist entitled "Personal Assistant needed with music industry experience. (Park Slope)"

I received an email back with some times to come in and interview. The email let me know that these times were meant to be an "open invitation," as in show up anytime in the timeframe, get interviewed.

I arrived at 11am today for my open invitation. Immediately I recognized the girl sitting next to me waiting as someone I went to high school with and also shared the stage with once in the musical Godspell. She was an odd girl then, but I figured since we were both interviewing for the same job, that was weird enough and I might as well be friendly.

"Hey, [Name Left Out To Ensure Safety]!" I said.
She did not recognize me.
"[N.L.O.T.E.S.], I'm [me]. We went to high school together."
Still no response. She looked at me like I was an alien.
"We were in Godspell together!"
Finally, as if she had woken up from a dream she blurted out loudly: "[My name]! You've changed! You've changed so much!" The tone of her voice reminded me of the Log Lady.

Let me pause to say that this statement is ridiculous because I look EXACTLY the same as I did in high school. I gained some weight and have new glasses, but no one has ever not recognized me, even people I haven't seen in 15 years.

Suddenly Log Lady and I were called in to the "interview." I give it quotes because it was unlike any other interview I've ever had.

We were in a big yoga studio. The job was to be the personal assistant to a man who owned the studio, several others, and some liquor companies, his current personal assistant explained to me. "This man is an investor, you see." The investor was currently making a film, which he (the PA) had been hired for because of his film experience. The man liked to do projects and was now producing a record and needed someone with music experience to help. The record was for a young girl, a relation of none other than the wonderful homemaker pictured above. The PA pointed to a room next door. "She's in there and you will hear her play in a bit." Oh joy I thought. A musical performance at 11am.

Let me pause again to explain that this situation was extremely bizarre, far more than I am able to explain in writing. The walls were covered in tie dye. The yoga/investor man was leaping around from interviewee to interviewee and me and Log Lady were both a little confused. Investor man shuffled us to be seated and wait for our turn to hear the starlet play.

Finally were were seated in a large loft space. We were greeted by the queen songtress herself sitting on stool with her guitar ready. Around 10 more people had shown up to be interviewed in the 5 minutes we had been there. Yoga man put out two chairs and had Log Lady and I sit facing songtress, then shut the door.

"This is so weird," I whispered to Log Lady.
"Uh huh," she said, but it was clear that she really didn't think it was all that weird and that, in itself, was the weirdest thing.

Over the next 8 minutes we were subjected to a horrible torture. The song was strange, long, formless, and overly put-on. She was an amateur, being primped for stardom by Ms. Homemaker and a yogi. I felt sorry for her. I stared straight ahead, trying not to bust out laughing, or better yet, bust out of the room. It wasn't that the song was so terrible, but that the situation was unbearably ridiculous and self-indulgent. I couldn't really figure out what this performance had to do in any way with working for the yoga man.

When she finally finished playing she said "Yeah, so that was one of the softer songs we're working on. It's based in the blues, but also has some elements of pop, jazz and rock." If anyone knows anything about music, you know this statement makes no sense, and you would know this most of all if you had heard the song. The whole situation was really wearing on me and I just wanted to leave.

Suddenly Log Lady blurted out "Do you want criticism?"
"Sure," said Queen Songtress.
"OH LORD HELP US," I thought to myself.
Log Lady continued "Your posture is very poor; you need to sit up. Your voice is nice but you use too much chest voice and need to go into your head voice more. I had a lot of trouble making the words out you were saying. Is that blunt?"
GEEEEZUS. I may have hated it, but I'm not about to say it out loud to her face!!
Queen Songtress looked a little shocked but said "Yeah, that's good to hear. I need some advice."
"Well it was good to meet you!" I interrupted.

We walked out of the studio as the next shift of interviewees was being shuffled in to hear her songs.
I asked the woman at the front desk "What do we do now?" She didn't look up from her computer, but she looked at me blankly, in a way that was similar to the look I got from the Log Lady when I first said hello to her.
"Oh, I don't knowww," she said.
"Can we leave?" I asked.
She looked up from her computer. "Ohhh, I don't know." I took it upon myself to run out the door.
Log Lady said "I think I'll stay and chat a bit more."
"Good luck," I said and bolted out the door back into the REAL world.

sorry, thieves

me: um someone just stole my recycling
from outside my house
Lucy: weird!
me: every time we put it out
it gets taken
someone is trying to steal my identity
but all they're getting is fliers for singing lessons, boxes for frozen lasagna and bottles of kombucha

My only thought...

is that this woman is actually a cat.

Everything's closing

7th Ave in Park Slope has never been cool. It's always been kid friendly, with bland restaurants, and the occasional funky toy store. I miss the days, though, when there was a Chinese restaurant on every block and there was only one bank on the whole strip, instead of three Bank of Americas in 10 blocks.

In the last few weeks -- likely due to the economic downturn -- it seems like everything is closing. I read the Gowanus Lounge and Brownstoner daily, cause I aim to be an informed Brooklynite and I cannot believe how much news there is about 7th Ave establishments closing.

Super Savers, the discount pharmacy, which has been here since I was a kid is currently liquidating the entire store, and closing in a few days. Hunan Wok, where I once found a cockroach in my beef and broccoli take out (don't tell me how that one's outlasted all the other 80s Chinese restaurants) is gone and is being replaced by a grocery store. Both sides of the La Taqueria restaurant store are for rent. And, now I just read that the Olive Vine is being sold. All these places are within 4 blocks of each other.

I'm not gonna miss these establishments all that much. Like I said, nothing here is "cool" but what's next? A Chase bank? I just hope the economy brings back the mom and pop businesses or at least a 99 cents store. We could REALLY use one of those.