I woke up today very late - about 3:00pm. Not that I'm lazy - not at all, but because I am alive! I went to the bathroom downstairs and looked at my arms - I almost never look at my face anymore, I don't know why. I don't care much about what it looks like or perhaps it is because I hate my face at the moment, or I just need a decent haircut and some soap or maybe it's because I love my forearms, I really really love my forearms. My forearms tell me how I'm feeling and how my day is going to be. So, when I look at a mirror, I look at my forearms in that mirror.
My forearms today looked like tough strands of forgotten hemp rope from a whaling ship of Connecticut's past; starved of moisture, knotted, gnarled and absolutely unchallenged. My forearms seemed slightly smaller than they usually looked, but then again, not made of flesh. My forearms told me that today, I needed to rest. My neck tapped the shoulder it is resting on and let everything know it was strained. My bad right knee then started slowly throbbing. My head unwelcomed a headache.
The night before I was on I-70 on my way to getting lost for the sixth time trying to find the Roller Skating rink to see the first Roller Derby bout in Colorado in something like 30 years. I was with guest and I felt like a complete space cadet. I never know why I forget to drink coffee that I know I am very much required to drink to function normally at this point, but I did. And I become absolutely useless. No matter, Jack called to let me know he was at the venue and they were sold out. So we went home.
Home is an art gallery of course, and this night, Beau was holding an art auction to benifit the children's hospital. I was able to gather together no less than eighteen pieces of art to be auctioned off for his Cause. Sadly, not the most exciting night and my lovely guest for the evening was feeling her spiritual eyes drooping and had to leave me early without kiss to make her 5:00am work shift the next day. Both her and I did manage to have mindless fun throwing water balloons at unsuspecting cars for no reason at all and just a little later throw some more balloons at the crowd outside Monkey Mania. We received a yell by someone named, 'Andy' whom I didn't know stating that there was a baby in the crowd and that we were assholes. Monkey Mania is my neighbor, I don't know what a baby was doing in a crowd of gutter punks, pouser gutter punks and bike gangs, some smoking pot, some drinking, some being stupider than we were, but I couldn't place fault on myself for throwing water at a crowd of people - most who knew me, in sultry conditions - the hottest on record and have one person I did not know take offense. In short, Fuck You, Andy.
The auction wound down and the tenants of the gallery were left to themselves. I hung about with Beau for awhile and then went backto Monkey Mania to see the last Scott Baio Army show ever. I got most of the people that were still in the gallery to come with me; I stuck three roses I found in the gallery and that were at the gallery as decoration at the auction in my shirt because as Gak puts it, "Every Woman Deserves a Rose" and it's thouroughly obvious that I am addicted to that as well: Women. And you never know and you gotta do things such as this when seeing a band such as the Army.
Lenore was one of the people in the crowd outside between band sets. She was riding a fixie bike, newly put together. It looked beautiful and I asked if I could take a ride. She gave me her bike, which was too small for me, but gave me a good sense of what the whole idea is about. It's simply lovely. The bike couldn't have weighed more than 15 lbs, with no brakes and... no brakes - you stop by slowing the pedaling. A very strange feeling to put lightly. Although I only used the bike for precious minutes, my bad right knee did not give the usual protest when riding a bike: a feeling that something had been caught underneath my kneecap and was quickly trying to rip it off - all from simply pedaling a bicycle. I was hoping that if I had a fixie bike, I could once again enjoy riding a bike again. I still hold this hope.
A few bands in waiting and the Scott Baio Army went on. Even before they played, flour was being thrown in the air and fireworks of all kinds were being lit off inside the venue itself. By the third song, the entire place was turned into a pit of heat and sweat - everything moist had the beginnings of wheat paste on them, anything not was dusted with fine granuals of flour, including the air which was becoming impassible by sight and unbreathable with the content of fireworks and their waste. Larger fireworks were shot off. The kind that you launch from pieces of pipe in the middle of a road, that shoot off and explode and then explode again with glamourous brillance high in the air were being shot off in close proximity of a hundred plus people running around violently, all not really looking where they're going, all audible senses being diminissed to nothing at all by the band's noise and the fireworks popping. A few waterballoons were thrown and I thought of Andy again, but not really for long. He wasn't inside this, it was certain.
Everytime I stepped back, I saw the chaos in front of me; nothing but limbs in many directions, fast minutes songs and sweat. It was over without much bullshit and only one girl got seriously hurt - her forehead had exploded when someone threw the snare drum at her face. She went on stage and the band asked who threw the snare drum at her. No one answered, but everyone gave her a round of applause for still being alive. I threw her the only rose that was still in my shirt as a gesture of good will, then I hugged everyone around me, which was disgusting.
As soon as the show was over, we all went outside and immediately were in the vicinity of four police cars; we walked home without fear, but noticed many more everywhere else. The cops were ten minutes too late in doing anything about the show and that's all I have to say about that.
Everyone got back to the gallery and we raided the refrigerator that was filled with the Cater's leftovers. We indulged. I ate mouthfuls of strawberries, blackberries and rasberries. We made salmon sandwhiches, rich with pungent fatty oil, we ate whatever was in the fridge and counted our wounds - mostly burns from firecrackers. Beau's entire head was scorched. I had a few burns on my back, but that was it.
Very soon after we left the gallery once again. I managed to fit three people plus myself in my Geo Metro. I noticed someone else had hit my driver's side door very recently and now the door doesn't close properly now. Perfect. We drove to Rhinoceropolis for an after party. There weren't many people there, but there was instruments of many kinds in the gallery area. Until 5:00am, The tenants of Rhinoceroplis, a few others and the Andenken crew jammed on the broken cheap and faulty equipment. We banged drums and crashed symbols. The drumkit had been gutted and was scattered around the room. A small drum here, symbals completely stripped of any stands being slammed across the floor over there, pieces of wood, pieces of drumsticks. I rode a cheap plastic skateboard around and on top of various instruments. Beau played the sax. I found the counch shell in the living room, blew into it, played the tamborine and used the skateboard as a drum pedal, smashing the symbols into the ground that I had trapped them to. I finished on a cheap Fender Strat played the same riff over and over again and sometimes vibrating all the strings violently, as Gak found the bass guitar, Ryan just yelled in my ear violently but lovingly and flopped a piece of sheet metal around - later the next day, I saw his hands - blistered and bleeding badly. We stopped because no one living at Rhinoceropolis was still playing with us and thought it may be time to go. We came home just as the sun was coming up and planned on getting up at 10:00 for brunch at the Mercury - but first indulged ourselves again with the contents of what the caterer left in the fridge.
I woke up today very late - about 3:00pm. Not that I'm lazy - not at all, but because I am alive!
