Endings of a Rock Skipping
It started and ended at T's house in Denver, skipping back or rewinding
three years to when I lived there. Oddly, O! "T." of the precarious life had
lived in the same place for years while I was moving six times. He was made
out of strange stuff to be considered stable, but we always communicated on
a level esthetically, poetically, intuitively, madly, philosophically that can
only be described metaphorically like Ren and Stimpy on DMT and absinthe
talking in an open field on a moonlit night about the makings of everything.
He had two Brians and an Amy in orbit...I should say all were inter-orbiting
in different intersecting sets of mandalas, but I don't want to confuse you.
We had our usual greeting night when I arrived...full of hysterical laughter...
He outlaid me with "supplies" for my trip to Boulder.
I stayed at Slim's house in Niwot. The whole basement was a studio for his
software business and DJ work. He alternated between puttering around the
house and bursting into a blaze of activity in full wack, working with clients
and his aide and creating playlists for the upcoming gigs at the same time...
interesting to watch but impossible to follow. I made dinners, watched cable,
(a treat for me). We would do a radio show in a few days which was my excuse
for being there. One afternoon Slim turned me on to the spirit molecule, so
now I have my McKenna street cred. That brief moment was quite a
punctuation mark for the visit.....!!! x 100. Nothing was ever the same before
or since.
We did the show. Live radio is always fun for me, after all the theatre I've done,
but the quality varies considerably. Mountain Trance played bluegrass electronic
live in the studio...nice people I would see again in a couple of nights.
I did a little plumbing at Slim's house...had a plumbing flashback
nightmare...interesting. Slim heard my screams, but allowed me to rest in the
plumbing space without comment. In spite of what happened in the house,
there was an internal spaciousness there... vast, and hard to explain.
A dance two nights after the show...2 bands, 2 DJ's...opened with Serena,,,
still cute after all the years. I was hanging out in front, unofficial greeter,
pointing to the door, stoned, sipping Comfort...people coming in smiling,
costumed, lubricated in many directions....good hearted friendly real folks...
that felt nice. This big guy fiddler came out for pre-gig lubrication and became
the Second Unofficial Greeter...told me his story openly and sweetly and we
connected naturally without any fuss.
Then it changed and I was inside digging the sounds and an occasional,
verbal or non, connection. I did tell a 51 year old I thought she was hot
and she smiled and said that she was offended, which shocked me.
Slim played his set and I danced as well as I could with abandon.
That night and the next I spent in a motel recovering my strength
and watching football....then to T's house where the environment
was like a ripe zit... spontaneous fun happy time in the middle of
their lives brimming with potential and chaos...an explosion of
good lucky fun. Twelve portraits of T's friends on his wall (he painted)
shining forth like living icons, living art beings. Two Brians and an Amy
hanging with mad T. and me...no mean task. We got into our cups and pipes
and made merry... it was so fun white people all clazy.
Now I'm back in laid back paradise....Whew!
posted by John Tischer @ 10:52 AM
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