Thursday, January 03, 2019

the things that we two could plan / would make the earth stand still

at the rick estrin show... thank you, pat
evans, for tickets! WBJBE will play no
stinkin' service charge show in april.
i was nervous, but now am quite happy bc james and i are going to be part of art fein's birthday bash again. :) -- nervous bc i've not been involved in that show for many years & tho @ asked for  performers, i didn't know if he'd still want me in there bc i sort of dropped off the earth musically when james & i married. to be honest, i also was nervous bc my hair's no longer black & my waist no longer smaller than my head (vanity had to be part of the reluctance, of course) (then corey yelled at me, "they've all gotten old, TOO!" in other words, get over yourself! thank you, corey)... then we took ronnie mack & tammy out to dinner at the old icehouse in bakersfield, where they now live, & ronnie flat-out invited us. thanks!! ronnie told some great stories & did the funniest imitation of walter brennan;and tammy is amazing!! she is a kung foo chinese style black belt, a high-energy friendly person who will talk your head off. she and james got in their stances in the parking lot; very funny! did i say i'd been sick? sick sick sick, couldn't get out of bed at mom & dad's, but then we moved from ronnie & tammy to rick estrin show which was HUGE fun: rick estrin is just the greatest frontman out there, i think, so weird, smooth, & talented. i'd rather watch him than just about any other male performer out there these days, especially since my other fave, besides my husband, has been greatly diminished in power by illness & tho he still performs bravely, lacks the arrogant confidence that once made him so magnetic... :(
but back to elvis show! it's on sunday and at joe's, which is only one hr from here, & tho it starts at 6 pm,  i don't know what time we're on. i was flattered bc ronnie wants me to two do of my own songs, then james will do two: ronnie remembers me as a performer, not just wife of whiteboy james! i'm doing a mashup of "one night of sin/one night with you" because the lyrics when combined sort of tell the story of james & i, & he's doing "trying to get to you," which is the first song i ever heard him sing, the first time i met him in da flesh... at the elvis bash in 2010! that's the eve he claims he saw me get out of the car "with my male entourage" with "birds and little animals flying around my head singing" and that night told his ex-guitarist "i'm gonna marry that girl" and my ex-guitarist teased me, "someone liiiiiikes you!" & i thought "whiteboy james LIKES ME!!" because he kissed me about 100x, tho we had just met... (i've told that story 100 times, but i still can't quite believe it: even w/all our times of the blues & strife, james is the love of my life & i am the love of his.)
the house is cold & the cat is so much more sociable after we returned from 4 days gone (bakersfield & ventura, the latter at which we went to the drive-in on ny eve, with two great runs in there even tho i was sick half the time)... they both slept on me the other day, the cat & dog, that is: so nice. and james is singing & playing away in the basement (we're planning a "live" solo CD for him, something to get out soon, very exciting, i can't wait to mix the music & create the packaging for it) & today he received his first "screener" from SAG, the movies that screen actors' guild members vote on. i wonder if he'll get to go to the awards ceremony? when he's done practicing, we're supposed to make a fire & watch the first film, which is something with glenn close...
i'm reading right now eat and run by scott jurek, the standout hero from my favorite running book of all time, born to run, & it's one of the best books on any topic i've read in a long time... well, it's 2019, the year of blade runner, & i've sort of resolved to do three day patterns of yoga/meditate-run-strength & to become bilingual (spanish) by year's end... and how bout you?
penny is howling plaintively, so high-pitched & sorrowful.
gonna go now.

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