It's hard, living in the shadow of a newly proclaimed GOD OF ROCK.
My friend, the one, the only, the Banjo Of Flame (see, he's even got a link - right over there with the others), was verily so proclaimed this past Saturday even, after annointing the faithful with the lick-spittle of his sermon, yeah verily in the tabernacle of the Neumo, wherein he and his disciples, numbering - um, several, did regale, mystify, and rock the faithful, not unlike the promised Hurricane, all in the cause of the spectaclular, the sheer mind-numbing, head-banging, over-the-top glory that is Buttrock Suites.
Now, mind you, I've never been a fan of this particular genre of music, and most of its noted practitioners were popular a few years after the major musical influences I imprinted on as a teenager, but regardless, the performance itself; a satisfyingly bizarre melange of high-brow modern dance and low-brow middle-class hair-band arena rock, put both the music - and apparently some of its more feverent supporters - squarely in that soft, squishy place where the tongue meets cheek.
In short, it was a lot of fun, even if AC/DC, Aldo Nova, Van Halen, The Scorpions, et al aren't exactly my cup o'.
And FB is soooooo going to be very popular with the laydeees from here on out, even though his attire was positively understated compared to the spandex/denim/hair-headedness of his bandmates.
Which I suppose makes perfect sense, as Our Own Mr. Fetzer pointed out in his rather droll reading from NPR maven Terry Gross' 2002 interview with Kiss frontman, Gene Simmons - ah, I was going to quote from it, but seriously you just have to read it for yourself.
Don't Let The Sound Of Your Own Wheels Drive You Crazy
Not much on the blogging front. The late-night show closed this past weekend on a very good note; most of the houses were sold out, and even though we didn't get any press, word-of-mouth was extremely positive. It was a lot of fun, and I'd do it again in a New York minute, if asked.
The other show comes down tonight, and we'll spend a couple of hours afterwards tearing apart the cleverly-designed set, removing all the furniture, storing the props & costumes, removing the lighting equipment, and prepping the space for the next show, which opens in less than a month. Sounds like lots of time, but really it's not that far away, and there's lots of work to do in the meantime.
Evidentally my brilliant piece of artwork still hasn't sold; I authorized a drastic price reduction last week, but still no takers. Too bad. If a scarf made in the image of a giant slice of bacon can go for $100 (and I would have paid that much for it, if someone else hadn't beaten me to the punch, as it were), then I figure mine should be worth at least that much; heck, just the matting alone cost over $50, so really, it would be a steal at that price. Oh well, if it doesn't sell now, I'll just save it for another fund-raising event down the road. There'll be another; there's always another.
And for what it's worth, it really did inspire me to start doing more of the same. I've got another project literally "on the (art) board", and a couple more in various stages of planning, so that'll give me something to do in my copious amounts of spare time this spring, when I'm not helping to put together more shows, or doing taxes. Heck, maybe I'll even take a class or two - assuming I can find something that fits both my schedule - and my pocketbook.
After my last check-up, wherein my new Doc recently told me I needed to lose some weight & get my cholesterol levels down, I figured it was about time to get up off my not-quite saggy butt and do something about it. Fortunately, I was able to locate a nice place through my union benefits program, within walking distance of my apartment, and at a ridiculously affordable price. Also, it's neither one of those corporate, everybody-spends-more-on-their-gym-outfits-than-I-make-in-a-week type places, nor a haven for hard-core gym-rats, muscle-bound steroid abusers, or bleach-haired aerobunnies; just a quiet neighborhood workout place, where nobody's judging you on your lack of physical condition, because presumably they're more focused on improving their own. Just what I need.
I figure I'm going to need at least a month of regular attendance just to get into shape to start getting into shape; initially, I'm concentrating solely on weight-loss and cardio, taking things slowly, and easing myself into a long-term program. One of my tendencies is to go at something like this full-bore, then either get injured, discouraged, or both, which generally leads to disinterest, and eventual abandonment. I'll try to do better on both counts this time around.
Another somewhat significant change is also occuring simultaneously: I've decided to relinquish the Chairmanship of the Seattle Equity Liaison Committee as of our monthly meeting last night. I've been the Liaison for more than six years now, having taken the position at my very first committee meeting back in late 2000, as someone pointed out, and I just felt it was time to give someone else a shot; bring some new ideas, new energy, and new direction to the Committee. It wasn't a surprise to anyone, as I announced my intentions back in October, but now it's official. I'm planning to continue serving as a regular member of the Committee, and will actually be retaining many of my former duties: delegate to the county Labor Council, running the tax prep program and whatnot, but now another Committee member gets to answer all the questions, interface with the staff in our Los Angeles office, attend all the conference calls, receive all the documents & publications, and schedule meetings, among other things. So, in effect all I lose is whatever perceived prestige or cache came with the title, while at the same time passing some tasks onto someone else's plate. I think it will be a good thing, all the way around.
All The baggage I Brought Wouldn't Fit In A Mid-Size Car
So, my friend T Lazz invited myself and another friend, the lovely Lisa V. out to dinner at her last night, indicating in her invitation, she had a "project" she wanted to propose to us.
Now, those of you who know Teri, also know she's not the sort of person to whom one easily says no, because the word doesn't really exist in her vocabulary. I figured the mysterious project had something to do with the theatre she's been managing for the past couple of months, and that it was going to involve helping her out with some sort of grand scheme, although exactly what the nature of that might be was anybody's guess.
Well, turns out I was pretty much spot-on with my induction, as LV and I are now officially the coordinators for the Schmea's annual wine auction fundraiser, which HOPEFULLY (based on whatever their board decided last night) will happen sometime in the fall. Lots of time to get prepared, but really not, considering how much prep work is involved in setting up this kind of an event. Supposedly their board is going to be doing most of the leg-work, and we're there to ride herd on them, make suggestions, offer advice, etc. But, also knowing that the theatre needs a big financial shot-in-the-arm, and that this could be rather a make-or-break event for their short-term stability, there's a certain amount of - well, not pressure, perhaps (at least not yet!), but rather expectation that this will be a spectacularly successful fundraiser.
And believe, me - and again those of you who know Teri know this - she is not someone you want to dissappoint.
We've got our work cut out for us, and just so's ya' knows, those of you in Seatown are going to be getting the phone calls and emails from one of us in the not-so-distant-future, because WE'RE going to need a bit of help ourselves.