I must blog.
Mission accomplished. I have achieved my goal of dealing with my
storage unit. Finally. Now that money will go into my
greedy little pockets every month instead of into U-Haul’s greedy
little pocketses. You know how FedEx and Kinko’s are now one
business? How come U-Haul isn’t partnered with a moving company
yet? Doesn’t that seem overdue? Imagine how convenient it
would be to say, “Hey. Could you ship my stuff from storage unit
#123 to 123 Main St. in Alexandria, VA.”
Oh well. So it’s done. Yes, it was painful on many
levels. It only took two days of work, though. Brandon —
thank you so much — helped load everything from storage into the
rental truck and gave a good days worth of work and hangin’ out.
That made it easy — well, it wasn’t easy but it made it possible — for me to take care of donating, selling, browsing
through the 26 or so boxes, shipping and dumping. It’s a
relief. And it was a good change of pace. It wasn’t
necessarily a fun trip. But it was productive. It was much
more pleasant than it could have been thanks to the hospitality and
shelter provided by the Windsor Wells household. It was even
better there than the nice hotel I stayed in for the first night.
Big ups to Larkspur Landing in Campbell.
In order to fortify my California closure I did perform some west coast rituals — some old, some new.
I went to Yoshi’s. Saw Joe Zawinul.
Drove up to Humboldt/Arcata and saw the Pat Metheny Trio + David Sanchez.
Ate at Jersey’s Cheesesteaks, Pizz’a Chicago, Armadillo Willy’s,
Crepevine, Cheesecake Factory, et al. The only spot that I crave
that I didn’t hit was Ti Couz. Don’t think I didn’t try,
though. They were closed at that time of day.
Went to the beach at Half Moon Bay.
Went to the Pulgas Water Temple. Don’t bother. Closed down
for two years to do what exactly? Looks like they just fortified
the area with fences and put up signs with draconian rules.
Tried to distinguish bravery from stoicism, and acceptance from acquiescence.
Saw Kung Fu Vampire.
If nothing else, the changes in these places were a poignant reminder
that time moves on. That and the guys in Burlingame are all
getting older. Wow. So that chapter of life has come to an
end of sorts. Aimee Mann put it this way:
I keep going round and round on the same old circuit
A wire travels underground to a vacant lot
Where something I can’t see interrupts the current
And shrinks the picture down to a tiny dot
And from behind the screen it can look so perfect
But it’s not
So here I’m sitting in my car at the same old stoplight
I keep waiting for a change but I don’t know what
So red turns into green turning into yellow
But I’m just frozen here on the same old spot
And all I have to do is to press the pedal
But I’m not
No, I’m not
People are tricky, you can’t afford to show
Anything risky anything they don’t know
The moment you try, you kiss it goodbye
So baby kiss me like a drug like a respirator
And let me fall into the dream of the astronaut
Where I get lost in space that goes on forever
And you make all the rest just an afterthought
And I believe it’s you who could make it better
But it’s not
No, it’s not
No, it’s not
I had spent the weekend before the California trip in (this salsa was
made in) New York City. (“New York City?! Get the
rope.”) I saw the Brian Blade Fellowship at the Village
Vanguard. Ohmigod. That … was amazing. Those dudes
need to release a new CD and/or tour. I played a gig with
James W.W., Sean S. and NickC. at Pumpkins in East Brooklyn. I
was reluctant to do it and lug gear on the subway in New York but I
wanted to play with the guys again. It was fun and exhausting.
And now I’m back in Alexandria. Went to work today.
Oy. I’m going to have to get back in the swing. It would
help if I’d get back on an east coast schedule.