XUP!
As of Monday, I'm now an active volunteer with Time's Up! My first meeting had a lot to do with planning for the upcoming Halloween Party. I volunteered to redesign the flyers we're using, and I think they look pretty great--check out one of them below. And come to the party! Friday 10/28: a terrific, frenetic Critical Mass ride followed by a slam-down, good-time party at C-Squat, with two floors of music, dancing, and devastation - WITH (appropriately) Devastation Wagon, Ninja Turtles, R Tronika, Dog That Bites Everyone, DJ Suggested D, Heelz on Wheelz, and more...including rumors of JAPANTHER and DJ DIRTYFINGER appearances. Valet bike parking (natch). Tastee drink specials. Insane times to be had.
March on Wall Street
So right before we get off the phone, I say, "Oh! One more thing I wanted to tell you guys. I'm going to be down at the Occupy Wall Street rally a lot this week, so--and I'm not like, trying for this, but--I may end up calling you for
bail."
A beat of silence, and then my mom says, "Honey?"
"They arrested five hundred people today," I say.
"Honey..." her thought trails off into a tight sigh. Then, to my dad, "Mike? Micah? Is there anything you want to say?"
"Like what?"
"Is there anything you want to say to him?"
"No."
There's another beat, and then my mom says, "Honey, you may--and don't jump down my throat!--you may want to bring some wet paper towels with you in case they tear gas you. That's how it was in the March on Washington. Just put them in a ziplock baggie in your pocket."
My dad says, "Yeah," drawing out the word, "and don't forget that the cops here are jumpy and theyc an beat the shit out of you and have it not be a crime, so be careful, kiddo."
"I will, dad."
"And they have those looooong sticks, man." My mom says "man" a lot when she is talking like a revolutionary. "Keep safe."
My dad yawns and sighs, the big dad sound he makes, like we've been talking about old movies or rock and roll songs, not me potentially getting arrested and beaten up by the police. "OK, it's getting late. I think we need to go to bed."
I love you, mom and dad. Power to the people.
A beat of silence, and then my mom says, "Honey?"
"They arrested five hundred people today," I say.
"Honey..." her thought trails off into a tight sigh. Then, to my dad, "Mike? Micah? Is there anything you want to say?"
"Like what?"
"Is there anything you want to say to him?"
"No."
There's another beat, and then my mom says, "Honey, you may--and don't jump down my throat!--you may want to bring some wet paper towels with you in case they tear gas you. That's how it was in the March on Washington. Just put them in a ziplock baggie in your pocket."
My dad says, "Yeah," drawing out the word, "and don't forget that the cops here are jumpy and theyc an beat the shit out of you and have it not be a crime, so be careful, kiddo."
"I will, dad."
"And they have those looooong sticks, man." My mom says "man" a lot when she is talking like a revolutionary. "Keep safe."
My dad yawns and sighs, the big dad sound he makes, like we've been talking about old movies or rock and roll songs, not me potentially getting arrested and beaten up by the police. "OK, it's getting late. I think we need to go to bed."
I love you, mom and dad. Power to the people.
Puppies on Parade!
The next event I’ll get to "Peel Back the Curtain" on is one I’ll be performing in, not just running support for—Kurt and Kristen's Hot Tub Comedy and Variety Show at Littlefield in Brooklyn. We espied this gig on another band's listserv; those guys were unable to do it, EVEN THOUGH THE DESCRIPTION ASKED THEM TO LEAD A PUPPY-HUGGING PARADE THROUGH THE STREETS. Cobra Gold stepped in to fill this obviously critical gap. Also, yeah, it's a fundraiser for the local no-kill shelter, Brooklyn's Dog Habitat Rescue.
Monday, September 12th, 8:00: Hot Tub's 2nd Annual 9/11 Memorial Puppy Hugging Parade, featuring Todd Barry, Jiwon Lee, Musical Guest Franz Nicolay, Cobra Gold, and more.
Will we really get to hug puppies? We'd better. PUPPIES.
Monday, September 12th, 8:00: Hot Tub's 2nd Annual 9/11 Memorial Puppy Hugging Parade, featuring Todd Barry, Jiwon Lee, Musical Guest Franz Nicolay, Cobra Gold, and more.
Will we really get to hug puppies? We'd better. PUPPIES.
(Perhaps it will be like this)
Tinderbox Music Merchin'
Saturday styles: merch selling with Sweet Soubrette at the Tinderbox Music Festival. My sister and her band put on a good show; “All that Glitters” (about her shameful gold-digging ways) had toes tapping all around the room (see the video below), and their haunting number about Anais Nin had everyone pretty much breathless. “Tenderness” was dynamite, but graaaah I wish she would let that song be as long as it wants to be. It is so catchy and infectious, there's not reason to cut it off so quickly. Ellia, chanteuse and songwriter, says it’s good to “leave ‘em wanting more,” and she certainly does, but, I don’t know, “leave ‘em really satisfied” also seems like a good mantra. I guess it's compulsory for siblings to disagree about stuff like this. Take a listen and tell me what you think (agree with me).
Sibling differences aside, Sweet Soubrette gave a really solid showing, the rest of the night was fun, and I sold two CDs when no one was buying nada from anyone. Why was this, you ask? Was it just the overabundance of good choices? Well, yes, but the Knitting Factory also lost its liquor license three days ago (hilarious!), leaving merch table commerce, like concertgoers, dry as a bone. But but but! To compensate for any performers' blown expectations, Tinderbox sprung for—and I’m not kidding—an RV full of beer to hang out in throughout the day. Yes, it was a little fratty (why was there a Knitting Factory dude inviting girl musicians up to "the emperor's lounge," the horrible alcove above the driver's seat?), but nice all the same for its booze and relative quiet. (Also because I got to nap in the front passenger seat for a half hour before Sweet Soubrette went on. Bonus!)
Some of the other music was great, especially Holly Miranda. I left before she’d finished, unexpectedly but unequivocally exhausted, but made sure to buy a CD before going—a small victory in my ongoing mission to stop being a skinflint about supporting local musicians. Money, go where my mouth is! I do wish I had been awake enough to stick around for Eula (whose charming, hard rocking, and now-I-am-unable-to-make-coherent-sentences gorgeous bandleader Alyse Lamb I had been chatting with earlier…my bashful highlight of the night).
Sibling differences aside, Sweet Soubrette gave a really solid showing, the rest of the night was fun, and I sold two CDs when no one was buying nada from anyone. Why was this, you ask? Was it just the overabundance of good choices? Well, yes, but the Knitting Factory also lost its liquor license three days ago (hilarious!), leaving merch table commerce, like concertgoers, dry as a bone. But but but! To compensate for any performers' blown expectations, Tinderbox sprung for—and I’m not kidding—an RV full of beer to hang out in throughout the day. Yes, it was a little fratty (why was there a Knitting Factory dude inviting girl musicians up to "the emperor's lounge," the horrible alcove above the driver's seat?), but nice all the same for its booze and relative quiet. (Also because I got to nap in the front passenger seat for a half hour before Sweet Soubrette went on. Bonus!)
Some of the other music was great, especially Holly Miranda. I left before she’d finished, unexpectedly but unequivocally exhausted, but made sure to buy a CD before going—a small victory in my ongoing mission to stop being a skinflint about supporting local musicians. Money, go where my mouth is! I do wish I had been awake enough to stick around for Eula (whose charming, hard rocking, and now-I-am-unable-to-make-coherent-sentences gorgeous bandleader Alyse Lamb I had been chatting with earlier…my bashful highlight of the night).
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