Saturday was a chilly, chilly day. Eddy dropped me off downtown and I strolled until I came across Canadian Blast, where Amanda was playing. Open bar and free mexican food makes Maxim a happy boy. Amos the transparent were playing and were quite enjoyable. The radio personality on hand was giving a way shoes to the person who had the worst shoes, my were pretty bad. Tara has pulled over last week in order to buy me new ones, we compromised on spray. The personality said they were also having a dance contest, I walked away with a pair of shiny new red converse. Downtown was fun, but less eventful, until I came across “psyche fest”. A number of jammy bands were performing in a foozeball club. There were pics of foozeball players from the seventies all over the walls, as well as bleachers in the small room above coyote uglies. Wild movies were projected on the walls, and the bands kicked ass. Some hash found itself my way and I immediately started jumping, did more breaking, then skipped downstairs to 6th street. I continued to skip down the street, slowing down when a beat hit me, I would break it down and continue, up and down the street a few times. All others were bundled up, but my blood was pumping, I kept moving for about three hours straight that night. Off to 4th, into a club, dancing away, back outside, jamming in the lot, back to the foozeball to check on my things, ect.
The solillaquists of sound played last. I have a feeling that Alexandrah is an oracle, real cool vibe. Wild ride, grand times all night. Cool chats, met a reader of Terrence McKenna, a substitute teacher and the creator of a soon to be arts collective.
Real Texas BBQ at Rudys, I got a third pound extra tender briquet and some pork ribs. It felt a bit primeval, but I enjoyed it. Dave, Eddy and I went to the green belt, hiked the woods for hours, shooting the shit. We talked about some gross things, funny things, curious things. The weather was great, we were pleasantly full. We found an old stone wall, that just kept going. Then we went to Armanda’s, the artist. Rollingwood is an upscale neighborhood, we were taken aback by the beautiful houses on the way to the get together. We drove past a gargantuan white house, three stories tall and 40 feet wide, greying, the outside looked like it needed help. I said “good lord, look at that place” “that’s the house were going to”, dave replied. Inside, it was bright and beautiful, with lovely smells, people and dogs abounding. A number of artistic people lived there, many small dogs were running wild. We went onto the roof, it was the tallest building in the area, quite a view of the city.
The evening was spent dinning, drinking, singing, playing, hanging out at fire pit in the back yard. I gave a break dance lesson. Dave had to go feed Leroy the Catahoula Leopard Dog, but being the incredible cool friend that he is, agreed to come back at 7 30 in the morning to pick me up, and drop me off down town to meet the ladies. We drank moonshine, sang at the piano, danced the charleston, jumped on the trampoline and ate eggplant parmesan.