Saturday, January 26, 2008

An Interesting Day

The other day, I was accused by emaw of being a "gaddamn hippy". Nightmare was a bit more forceful, lumping me in with the "fucking Commies".

At the risk of proving them both right and earning their eternal ridicule (pretty sure the ship has already sailed on that one), I did something yesterday I've never done before.

I attended my first drumming circle.

Now, before you start flaming me with comments, I want to make a few points.

First, although I plead guilty to being an old recovering hippy, I am NOT into a bunch of New Age, Wiccan, Vegan, PETA, tofu-eating crap. I'm a secular rationalist and I like my meat and potatos. The only reason I joined a drumming circle was because I miss playing my drums.

My short stint in a garage band ended over 5 years ago (because I started banging our lead singer...yes, she was female...and when we broke up things went all Yoko Ono), and since moving into a townhouse where I have a neighbor on the other side of the wall, my drums have been packed away. I was losing my chops and needed an outlet. Since Carlos Santana refuses to return my calls (and has a restraining order against me), I had to do something.

Second, this isn't some white, suburban drumming circle with a lot of male hugging and metaphysical mumbo jumbo. For your information, this session was held at the home of the founder of the circle south of 75th St. between Prospect and The Paseo.

That is what Gloria Squitiro would call "the black part of town".

Okay, out of the maybe 16 people there, one of them was black. But still.

Third, it was fun. It was about two thirds over by the time I got there. I didn't bring all of my drummage because I was apprehensive and self conscious. The last time I played in public was at an open jam at Knucklehead's a couple of years ago. Glad I didn't bring it all! It would have taken 3 trips uphill to get it all from my vehicle to the house.

The other folks in the drumming circle?

Well, let me put it this way. No one looked out of place. Except me, the black guy, and Ricky Ricardo. Other than that, close your eyes, imagine what you would expect to see at a drumming circle, and most of those people were there.

The most common drum present was the djembe.

There were a few doumbeks.

Ricky Ricardo had a small conga slung over his shoulder.

The Black Guy had a couple of congas, and I just brought my TOCA bongos.

The place looked like a fucking Miami pawn shop.

But it was fun to get a chance to play and I will probably continue participating until someone gives me a better offer.

After the hippy drumming love-fest, I went to the Nelson-Atkins to wander around and take a few pics.

Someone had taken it upon themselves to do a little impromptu guerilla sculpting using the material at hand.

You would think they could have slipped a starving art student a couple of bucks to shovel the fucking snow.

I took this pic of the exterior of "The Lenses".

This unique, opaque, glassy substance really is incredible. From inside and outside. Go. See!

After the Nelson, I hit Independence Avenue to head back home on "the scenic route".

I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything all day long!

I had decided that I would stop at the taco truck on Independence Avenue and get something.

Much to my dismay, the truck was surrounded by Mexicans! Who could have seen that coming?!

They looked at me like I was an INS agent and started to wander off.

I didn't take any pictures of this because I didn't want to get my ass kicked.

I thought that the taco-truck guy would be serving up some authentic Mexican street cuisine that I couldn't get anywhere else. But I saw him spooning some stuff from his propane heated cart into some styrofoam cups.

What Mexican food gets dished out into styrofoam cups?!?

I decided that my delicate digestive system wasn't quite ready for mystery Mexican food, so I skipped the taco truck.

On the way home I swung by William Chrisman H.S. where Bill Clinton was scheduled to speak at 7:00.

I thought I might get some pics of Secret Service guys, black limosines and maybe even Bill himself.

I got there about 5:30.

The media were already there in force!

KMBCs Mike Mahoney was there getting his smoke on.

The media seemed to be very excited. They all had their masts fully extended for Bill.

I decided I really didn't have the stamina to wade through the crowds, the security, the cost and the wait. Plus, I'm voting for Obama so what the fuck do I care.

I needed something to eat!

I decided to stop by Lucia's Taquera on the way home.

It's a tiny little dive, but the parking lot is always full and that's generally a good sign.

As hungry as I was, I really didn't want anything heavy, so I just went for the 3 tacos.

They were good and unique. They seemed to be in a double shell with something like parmesan cheese sprinkled between them. Interesting. It's a really, really small place where the customers are mostly regulars and the staff seems to know everyone.

I think I'll stop by again and see what else they've got.

So that was my Saturday.

Today I'm going to rescue the girlfriend from her working overtime hell and take her out to lunch and a movie (There Will Be Blood).

Later, my peeps!


Heather said...

I played drums in high school. I was pretty good at it. I haven't played since then, although I wouldn't be opposed to picking up the sticks again.

Stinkbait Boucher said...

I'd say you had an awesome day. I have drum envy.

F*cking longhair... wait, what?

Midtown Miscreant said...

My youngest brother is a dead head, goes to some of the schwag stock hippy fests. Drum circles and unwashed patchoulli drenched furry pitted hippy chicks abound.
I prefer to beat my Tom Tom in private rather than a circle, heh heh. I'll be curious to hear your review of the flick, Ive heard good and bad, so it will be intersting to hear from someone other than a hollywood type critic.

Poodles said...

I just made low fat chicken tortilla soup... Those tacos look better.

Spyder said...

Sounds like a great day!

tec said...

You should have stuck with the taco truck. The first rule of Mexican food is that if there aren't a bunch of Mexicans eating it, it isn't Mexican food.