Sunday, March 18, 2012

Anecdote #69!! One December 5th, for my birthday, David Byrne took me to see Portishead at the Hammerstein Ballroom in NYC. I had only known him a few weeks and our report was definitely still something to be discovered. Like the special people he is, we sat in a box seat in a balcony above the stage. Before the lights dimmed and in my youthical post grunge splendor I removed a joint from my shoulder bag. Truth be told I had been working up to this moment for hours. 
"Smoke?", I sheepishly, (and sort of outside of myself), spoke to him.
"Is it good stuff?", DB replied.
"I think so.", said I.
"Well, light it up.", he said.
So I did.
It WAS good stuff. I started it and passed it to him then he passed it to the other couple on the other side of the balcony and they passed it to the other balcony over then it made its way back to us just as the lights dimmed and Portishead began to play.  I miss the 90's, sometimes.


One St Patrick's Day, many year ago, Cass McCombs played at my house with the Oxes. I was reminded earlier today that he made a long distance call to his family from our phone to tell his annual St. Patties Day Joke. What I remember about that night is the after party in my room, hurling hundreds of vinyl records into the wall, duck tapping the perimeter of my room and my boyfriend making out with some chick who had two LED shamrocks pinned at her tits. Her last name was Green. I hate St Patrick's Day.
Names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Once, one afternoon, I was doing double duty. Painting the guest bathroom and being adult in charge to an 8 year old, 'Sugar Bean' and her play date 'Terror Face' for a couple of hours. When these two girls got together it was never fun for me. I was expecting the usual artful dodging at pick-up time, which would leave me searching every closet in the house for the the little scampers while Terror Face's Mother, adding unnecessary anxiety, would inevitably agitate the situation, by her useless glares and her tapping foot in her own disapproving meter being completely unhelpful in luring the girls into some semblance of good behavior.
On this particular day, my faith in reformation was restored and I was surprised and pleased when Sugar Bean and Terror Face asked me if I was thirsty and would I like something to drink. "That is so sweet of you to ask! Thank You, I would love something to drink!" A few minutes later they returned with a high ball glass of OJ. As I reached down from my ladder and took grasp of the glass I noticed the girls looking suspiciously excited, unfortunately, I did not process this in time as my my thirst was too great to notice anything was amiss... until I took a sip of my juice. This juice, and some foul mixer. Calmly from atop my ladder I asked the girls, "Is... there... URINE... in this juice?" I was beyond livid and i could see my reaction reflected in the now terrified faces of the girls. Sugar Bean nervously nodded her head. My next question was strange, "Who's URINE did I just Drink?!" I confess, I relaxed a little when I learned that the piss I ingested belonged to Sugar Bean and not to Terror Face.
Anecdote #66: I was once initiated into a Secret Society. Good Luck guessing which one. All I can say is we celebrate longer. I've said too much.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Videodote #65: Filmed by Frank Eaton Song by Invisible States. (me)





Anecdote#64: In high school, one of my two best friends, Misser, had the biggest crush on The Monkee's, particularly singer Davey Jones and I was baffled by her obsession. "They are so stupid!", I would stupidly think to myself, as I watched with her, this old stupid TV show, them screaming !HEY-HEY! while riding a bed down the street, Blech...,but I kept my pretension to myself. I even picked a favorite Monkeey for her. I picked Mike Nesmith, and I did really crush on him, but still!
Misser got tickets to see the Monkees LIVE! and the next day I was excited to meet her, as we always did, first period, in the bathroom at school. I truly was excited to hear all about the concert. However, when I walked in Misser was unexpectedly in tears! I asked her why she was crying, and with her knees buckling, holding up the sink, she unfeignedly wept, "Davey Jones...! is...
...OOOLLLLD!!!"
 
#63: When I was in fifth grade a classmate of mine fell through the school lobby's skylight during lunch period and died.
Anecdote #62: Recently, when I was home for Christmas and awake in bed, my Mom was getting me up while, at the same time, brushing her teeth and speaking to me about the days plans. Suddenly, her toothpaste foam had turned pink! "Mom!" I'd exclaimed. "Your mouth is bleeding!". "Oh dammid, I cud ma tun on a brusheda las wek and is haddent heald yed!", she plerbeded. During my three day visit, Mom's tongue bled red randomly. I suppose it was always the settings (church) and situations (family dinner) that made it feel most gruesome and
disturbing.

Saturday, March 3, 2012





Anecdote #61: One morning my mom came bursting into my room and, with tears in her eyes, frantically told me John Lennon had been shot and he was dead! "It's all over the TV!" During this same period of time in my life she had been dating a super cool cat named Jeff Leonard. He was a disk Jockey and pretty well known over the air-waves in the DC Metro Area. In my morning stupor I misheard her and thought she had said Jeff had been shot and was dead! I was devastated and ran downstairs to see on the TV how this horror could've happened. As the Today show came back from commercials they continued their updates on the tragedy. The pictures they showed of the deceased rock star, to my joy, was obviously not of Jeff Leonard and I was ecstatic and relieved to tell my mother she had made a terrible mistake, "Mom, Jeff's not dead, that’s not Jeff!!!".
Anecdote #60: Happy Fat Tuesday! I have no idea how I managed an invite to one of the most debaucherous Birthday parties ever thrown. Perhaps it was on account of my brief friendship with Oz and Elvis Perkins, sons of Anthony, but there I sat, like a fly on a giant martini glass grinning wildly all night as I observed some pretty wacky shit. Unfortunately, what happened on our way out trumped any other memories from that evening. I grabbed my size 8 chocolate stiletto and slipped it into my purse for a tasty souvenir and stood up to leave. By this point the party had erupted into some sort of Bacchanalian flesh fest complete with transgender midgets and fetish freakdom. We tried to muscle our way through the ravenous crowd but found ourselves barricaded by a cluster-fuck of crazed. I was nervous, to be honest, and started to feel very claustrophobic, so as I stood there waiting for the "light to change" I looked to my left and watched Robin Leach get a hndjb . A sight, I will, dismally, never forget.
photo: Richard Thompson
Photodote #58: I used to see my Dad every other weekend.

photo: Richard Thompson




Photodote #57: This is a picture of me playing soccer. I have always been a pretty good athlete. 
Once I scored three goals in one game but then my face turned bright red and i had trouble breathing.




photo: Richard Thompson


Photodote #56: The first time I "cricked" my neck and believe me, there have been many times since, but, on this first occasion I was in 3rd grade and it happened during a swimming lesson. I remember turning my head in the water to catch my breath and my neck suddenly seized up in a jerked pain. I was in the deep end.
After being rescued and looked at by the pediatrician, the trouble was nothing a few days in an adult sized foam neck brace, wouldn't fix!