Monkey's band played at Joe's Pub last night, followed by The Clogs. The show was great, and I felt embraced by the cushiness of Joe's Pub. It is an old-fashioned banquette-and-table-service music club. I expected to see Hedda Hopper at the next table.
Monkey's band played great, and then The Clogs put on an excellent show. I enjoyed watching the bassoon player switch back and forth between mouthpieces. They play a dreamy sort of neo-classical chamber music, the kind of thing I take pleasure in while it's happening, but would never actively seek out again. I hold classic rock forms too dearly to ever really give myself over to other kinds of music, no matter how gracefully rendered.
It was a happy social occasion though. Fred was there, as was Nan and FilmThreat and Hepburn and some other people who I haven't invented names for yet.
Afterwards, the Monkster spirited me away in our new used car, which he had picked up before the show. It's a 1997 Suburu Outback, a rather suburban-looking station wagon. But it is without a doubt the nicest car that I have ever owned. We listened to the new Breeders CD on the way home, windows open, wind a-blowin'...I felt like a teenager...the tangy thrill of freedom...
It is a weird bit of surrealism that we are so profoundly broke, and driving around in a nice car that still has a wee bit of its new-car-smell intact.
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