codes & secret longings

leaning up against the wall, and watching as eric peeled his socks off, his toes all polished and he hopped up and turned his back to the audience and the show started. it got loud suddenly and i always love that feeling of my heart beating to the same rhythm as the bass. the e-bow we'd been looking for a solution to how to access it, velcro across a trouser leg?, no, let it dangle from the mic stand from a BUNGEE-CORD, a brilliant solution. he tossed it over to chris who had trouble with his boots managing his switch on his pedal to lead and never got a really good go on the e-bow. next show. and of course i clicked on the alien the swirly eyed googly eyed creature who sometimes has his heart and ears hooked up to a box that looks ready to detonate. some codes never can be broken. green envy as green as the glow from the cold moon, as bright as the e-bow glow and yes, envy is just as eerie. perfect sound. balanced as twins on a teeter-totter. tense with knowing what mischief is in the offing. but no, it's all serious, never drama. & drama's what i love. even if you want to pretend it's real. all real.

met a guy at the alex p. (i call him the attic boy cause he works at attic books). he loved the band but not fond of name. raised by swans? is he an ugly duckling? but that was a swan raised by ducks & that's not much of a name. raised by ducks? he does bare his feet. no room in shoes for webbed toes. that's all i could offer as explanation. does any band have to explain their name away? and so i tossed the gauntlet. before you tell eric you don't "get" his band name, and hurt his feelings, perhaps you should come up with a list of band names you'd favor. yes, it's that difficult. the the is taken. the anything. see?

oven cleaner & impatience

cleaning the oven isn't a task for an impatient person. Wait 20 min. means wait 20 min., not 15 or 16. Probably waiting more than 20 would be good. Wait at least 20. When it says spread newspapers, don't skimp. Don't wear your black maryjanes to do the job. The ovencleaner that missed the newspaper, is in a fine mist on the lineoleum. yes, it will eat away the lineoleum. yes, the black soles of your maryjanes will also be eaten away. But you won't notice, cause you'll be so busy hacking at the bottom of the oven where the carmelized scalloped potatoes au gratin left that black pool. But you will notice when you look down at the floor: all your little black foot prints, like a game of twister, but the best is the first one, bleached into the lineoleum which is now freckled where the cleaner burnt away sections, the sharp angle where the spray left the confines of the newspaper. Well, some people might PAY to have such a cool floor design. Get out!

A permanent sign that you have cleaned this oven. One day you will need to prove yourself. Domestic bliss.

What for? Just so the place wouldn't smoke up when you were trying to make a nice dinner for three bachelors and your husband. What a weirdo you are. Don't cha know it ain't that hard to impress bachelors. You're going way overboard on this. Roast lamb with oregano potatoes. Stuffed tomatoes, red, yellow & green peppers and zucchini. Homemade sour dough loaves, including one special loaf studded with Kalamata olives. Tapenade. A mint cheese tart with a yeast crust.

Oh it'll soon cover up that oven cleaner smell. And the band will finally love and appreciate me. At least for my cooking, if not for my complicated lyrics and wandering tunes. Ciao amigo. Dinner will be ready at 6 p.m.

suddenly

suddenly it starts to snow and your ears are soooo cold even though you're wearing two hats and it's too bad the swirling flakes coming down hazy through the afternoon sunshine don't look pretty anymore, but just piss you off as you slip along the dangerous sidewalks cursing winter, cursing what brought you here in the first place. you didn't ask to be born, i know, i know...

suddenly winter ain't so purdy no more.

take it away.

where to go? what to do?

AN INVITATION: sick of winter? come out and see buttonfly at the alex p. keaton this saturday. we'll turn up the heat. i'll be wearing pink. we will make it spring. show starts at 10:30 p.m.

what will we sing?

pat's got a new song EVERYONE'S GONE MAD "it's a dangerous game we play, throwing rocks on the highway..." and I'll be crooning my HIBERNATION HEIST "we're bears, sleeping through the worst of it..." and a new one called TEN SECOND SWEEP about throwing everything in the medicine cabinet into the toilet -- cause didja know (i read this, somewhere reliable) you can't store medicine in the bathroom cabinet, it needs a place that's cool & dry...)

AND LISTEN FOR BRIAN's haunting keyboards -- we'll be bringing along the YAMAHA S80, and he'll still have his saxophone in tow of course!