When I wrote last, I had a feeling that this week might get away from me, but I had no idea just how much that would happen. Most of alll, it was time spent reconnecting with friends who I’ve not seen in years. The total for this month is now up to twenty two. TWENTY TWO. . .and it’s due in a large part to Facebook.
This week, I had two rehearsals, four gigs, two trips to the beach, and as soon as I finished Gig #2 the other night, at ten-thirty at night, I got a text message saying, “Did you get my text yesterday?”
“I don’t think so. Which one?”
“About me being in the hospital?”
“OH MY GOSH. No, I didn’t! What happened? Are you okay?” [I tried to call her, but she couldn’t answer.]
The rest of the story is that she got really sick on Wednesday with what she thought was food poisoning from bad cream in her coffee, but she kept getting worse throughout the day, so she went to the hospital Wednesday night, to find out that she had frickin’ appendicitis, so she got her appendix sucked out through her navel on Thursday. RockShowGirl and I raced over to see her Thursday afternoon, just as her mom was arriving to take her home for a few days. She’s there now, sans appendix, recuperating with her new friend Percoset.
I drove RockShowGirl to her condo downtown and then came home back to clean up my place, in order that FriscoFriends could stay here tonight. They arrived five minutes after IrishBand had finished Gig #3 on Thursday night, and we talked at the venue for a while, before driving back to my place and retiring to the front steps with glasses of wine. We all slept in late yesterday, and I tiptoed out to the living room to retrieve my keys, so that I could walk to the grocery store and be back before they awoke. I whispered, “Is either of you awake?” The fakers both instantly opened their eyes and stretched their arms. I laughed and said I’d be right back with coffee and ingredients for breakfast. We had scrambled eggs with mozzarella cheese, with fresh tomatoes and basil from the garden (I got slimed by a slug who was attached to one of the tomatoes, and it took hours to get all of that sticky, yellowish, gooey crap off of my hand!), French press coffee, and toast with homemade raspberry jam courtesy of Mom ‘n’ Stepdad.
At about half past noon, we happily piled into our respective cars and caravanned to Seaside, where we met up with their family, who I’ve also known for years. It was a great time. They told me to bring my bike, since everybody else had theirs as well. That turned out to be the best idea of all. We rode up and down the Promenade, and all around the town, and I found the house we used to stay in when I was a kid that belonged to our family friends. It’s also located right along the Promenade, and it was nice to see that unlike the rest of Seaside, it was unchanged, save for the fact that it is now a vacation rental home. We rode to the ice cream shop for cones, and down along the riverfront marina and walkways as well. In a great show of our Second Childhood, three of us raced to the top floor of a parking garage, and back down to street level, skidding on the sidewalk and having the time of our lives.
Then it was time for dinner, and a walk down to the beach, which included a small fire, s’mores, and a radio-controlled car and plane. First time I’ve ever flown a model plane, by the way, and it’s much more difficult than it appears. Then we walked back to the fire and sat around talking until dusk, when I had to pack up my car and drive home, after hugs all around.
Today I’m devoting to cleaning up my kitchen from all the cooking, and getting the living room back to normal now that life is back to normal. By ‘normal’, I mean a gig tonight, meeting two more friends in the next couple of days, and then three gigs in a row next week, followed by at least one more beach trip (but it’s more likely to be two) before things start to settle down in the following week. At the end of that week, I’ve been invited to play in Whitefish, Montana with a nationally known songwriter who just so happens to live here in Portland. He also just so happens to be the significant other of someone with whom I played for almost three years, so I’ve had the opportunity to play with him many times before in that context, but it will be really great to play with him in this new context. He’s an amazing banjo player and guitarist.
By way of an ending to all of this miscellany, I’m going to tell you that I’m listening to “El Choclo” by Astor Piazzolla, and I like to share examples of these obscure songs when I can find them. I scrounged up a video to this one, which has a bunch of misogynistic hilarious pictures that accompany this beautiful and romantic tango music. If you can read the captions, please feel free to comment and translate them, because it’s all Greek to me.