Left with a lingering, muted ringing in my ears I floated back inspired to my car from The Troubadour. I floated in and out of my body surreally trying to use my other heightened senses, since my hearing seemed to be hindered at the moment, to navigate myself back to where I had parked.
After work today, I had impulsively decided to go catch a band, The Color Turning, whose members I had known in undergrad, play a set in West Hollywood. Unfortunately, two of their band members were left stranded on the 5 Freeway somewhere after their van had stalled. So at 8pm sharp 3/5 of the band went on with an acoustic set to a teensy crowd. The first slot is usually given to the band with the least clout to their name. There were four bands tonight and they were first. Unless you’re U2 playing a sold-out Staples Center, an 8pm slot usually means no one besides the people you bring will see or hear you.
Oh, how I desperately missed live music. I used to almost live at The Troubadour, The Roxy, The El Rey, Henry Fonda, The Wiltern, etc. I used to know the bouncers by name. I used to carry earplugs around in my purse like gum, especially after I began to notice that I would ask people to repeat things more frequently. There was a permanent ink stain from admission stamps on my right hand or inside my left wrist. I used to collect wristbands and backstage passes like badges of honor. I was a music junkie. I was what Cameron Crowe characterized and differentiated from a groupie as a Band-Aid. I lived for music. I supported the musicians’ rise to stardom. I never took no for an answer. Sold-out just meant overcoming a minor obstacle.
I’ve fallen in love again with an old flame from my past. Meet music. It’s changed my world before and it will do it again.
Even without two of its members, The Color Turning did a decent job. Much better than the EP they put out a couple years ago. I don’t remember the second band except the lead singer played a mean keyboard. It was unbelievably sexy how he played it with so much passion. I’m such a sucker for musicians, tortured artists and emotionally unavailable but hot men. But, the third band, Automatic Loveletter, was quite impressive, a really young band with great potential to make it huge. They’ll be all over it soon enough. I remember following fledgling bands to greatness only to bid farewell as they hit mainstream. I like to believe that I had a gift to find unsigned bands, nurture them with my following and dedication and help them make it big, if only in my imagination.
I watched The Bachelor tonight and this season’s bachelor is actually a decent catch. He’s a smart, humble, down-to-earth, athletic, ripped as hell naval doctor who has been awarded humanitarian awards for his work in Laos and he’s only 30. I’m so objectifying here but seriously it’s television. The theme is Officer and a Gentleman and the hardest mission he has had to face is finding true love. Gag.
One of the girls broke down because she didn’t like the whole competition part of the whole thing. Hello? You went on national television to compete for the attention of one man you don’t even know amongst a group of catty beauty queen types. What did you think would happen? Prince Charming would pluck you out of the group and make you Cinderella. Get out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat. I tell you. What a bunch of whining idiots. Now, the Bachelorette is a much better idea. Let the guys come to you instead of preening yourself to exertion for a stupid rose.
Hmmm. If I was the bachelorette, how would I choose the winner? Several ways to my heart: Cook me a gourmet, pescetarian-friendly meal from scratch including dessert, write me a song and play it for me on piano or guitar, encapsulate your feelings in a creative expression – writing, drawing, painting, be unabashedly courageous in all aspects of life, make me laugh until my cheeks hurt or I pee my pants, live like you were dying, have no regrets and always right all of your wrongs, challenge me emotionally, intellectually, spiritually and physically.
Enough babbling for one night, I am pooped. I think a part of my hearing has come back.
Good night. It’s 2am already? Where does the time go?