Feeling the Game

Look for a longer essay on the 19th Cent. past time that is baseball soon. For now, a brief anecdote:

Before leaving for the Giants game last night, I told my room mate’s boyfriend that I was going to bring back a home-run ball for him. “Hope you don’t catch it with your head,” Erik replied. With the Giants in the running for post-game play, I was surprised to see that the last home stretch of games wasn’t sold out. So I bought a cheap bleacher seat in left field for the opener with Arizona. I must’ve been feeling the game, b/c I actually pointed to a few places in the field where Giants batters dropped balls (one just behind 2nd base, another was a great drive to center field). In the 4th inning, Juan Uribe knocked the first pitch out for a home run… three rows in front of me! What an amazing site to see a tiny, white ball way up in the air heading straight for me. After the game, I went to MLB.com and found the video of Uribe’s HR. Here’s a screen grab of the moment the ball landed. The red arrow marks the ball and the red circle is yours truly (glad I wore a green tee) screaming and waving and watching the guys fight for the ball. more later….

Sept. 28: Uribe's 4th inning HR lands right in front of me! Giants go 2 games up for Div. lead.
Sept. 28: Uribe's 4th inning HR lands right in front of me! Giants go 2 games up for Div. lead.

NoMeansNo Take it to the Next Level

I feel sorry for the Canadian trio NoMeansNo. Backstage at Bottom of the Hill, which is outside where everyone was smoking, I sipped a beer and met a group of folks who are big fans of the band. They were all lamenting about the horrible technical problems NoMeansNo was having on this tour. Last night in Oakland, Bassist Rob Wright’s amp went out right at the top of the show. They took a 15 minute break to try to fix the problem. The story of drummer John Wright’s problem followed, which was a busted drum that had to be replaced for the night by an opening band’s piece. That happened in Oakland too.

I tried to encourage these big fans that maybe the show tonight in San Francisco would be perfect. No problems at all. An unease settled across several faces, and the subject changed. Before going into the opening number, Rob told the audience that “the gods are testing us!” Sure enough, his bass amp started going out at the beginning of the set. Frustration set in as they finally got the first song going on the third try. The aptly placed song was “Old,” which is what all the band’s equipment was feeling like at the current moment.
Continue reading “NoMeansNo Take it to the Next Level”

Dream: Atlas Hugged

I am backstage at a Phish concert, which has the stage set up at the top of a ski resort mountain. A large, Atlas-like statue stands about 30 feet above the main stage, with the figure’s arms holding a smaller stage above its head. Trey, Mike, and Page, along with a frightened Stephen Colbert, ascend the platform above Atlas’ head. Four other people are on the stage, and the band and Colbert climb on top of one of them and, in a row, begin to do choreographed movements. As they move, Colbert does not lean over the edges like the others do. He’s too scared. Of the Phish members, Trey has the most courage, looking precarious at times as he reaches over the person he’s on top of and over the edge of the small stage.

They end their movements and then grab notched rope that let’s them descend beyond the stage-level and all the way down to the bottom of the mountain where the ski lodge sits. As they make their Batman-like exit, the audience roars in hilarious approval.

The scene shifts and I am back in time just before the show starts. Still backstage, but at the lodge-level of the mountain, I see an old hippie looking a bit lost. He holds a piece of paper and shuffles up to a door that opens to a stairwell leading up to the stage-level. He mumbles something about the audition being fake, and then opens the door and climbs the stairs.

My Summer Vacation(s) : Pics

Random NYC Pics

Dream: Shifting my Assemblage Point

I walk through a dark, dingy nightclub somewhere in New Orleans. Bad dixieland plays as I find myself quite sober at the exit, trying to avoid tipping the players. I have to step on a series of small sets of squares to get out of the club. and into the parking lot. I see someone from my Alma Mater tailgating in the lot, which makes me want to call J. B. I haven’t spoken to her in years, so we chat and decide to have lunch in NOLA. Making a lunch date leaves me hungry, so I walk over to a shopping center in hopes of finding food. I find a store full of Star Wars toys instead, and end up standing with two people and having a drink with them. The woman makes me feel uneasy, and when I nervously look at her from out of the corner of my eye, she blinks, revealing a third eye. She grins as the third eye, with cat-like slit and off-white color, stares through me.

I wake up groggy and disoriented, not knowing where I am. My vision blurred, and fear hitting me, I start making up jazz scatting to try to ground. I hum fun melodies, not sure if I am singing in my mind or out loud in the now-focusing surroundings. I stand up and try to look around, staggering like a drunk, and begin to see that I am in an empty floor of an office building. Cubicles stand silent in the semi-darkness, and I finally see things clearly. I begin to walk around, picking up a plastic cup and pretending that it is a Star Wars light saber. Pretending that I am Darth Vader, I pretend battle through the office and come to a glassed wall with a door. A security guard exits the door towards me.

“Luke, give in to the Dark Side and we will rule the Empire… together!” I say to the guard.

Laughing, he says “here’s the latest copy of Wizards. You might enjoy it,” and he throws the magazine on the desk in front of me.

Another guard walks towards us from the direction I had walked. The two of them discuss a woman who is not doing too well in another part of this reality.

“Where am I?” I ask. They don’t answer.

“Why am I here?” I ask. “You assaulted a woman with a cup,” the friendly guard tells me.

“I want to leave here,” I tell them.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replies.

“Can I at least get something to eat? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah. I’ll get you something,” the friendly guard says.

I am wide awake in this present reality, with the woman’s third eye haunting me as I try to go back to bed. (This dream woke me at 3:55am; an unusual time for me to dream.)