 19 january 2000 that "n"word dis jew boy is tied massa work me hard today say wazzup nigga? (the picture is from our corporate xmas party. that piano was so ugly and garish -- liberace wouldn't even want it) Returning home from an evening of vodka martinis and Wolfgang Puck pizza at Granita, I sauntered into the apartment to discover Gabby, looking happily morose sprawled out on AC's bed. "So, how was work today? Did you get me that stuff I asked for?" She works at Rand, a "thinktank" in Santa Monica, and I had requested a personal favor of her. "AC and I broke up about an hour ago." "So what about that stuff?" Unbelieving. Ignoring. I sat down on the bed. "No, I'm serious." But she seemed way too happy. Maybe females are just like that. I thought for a minute. "Well, um ... ok. In that case ... he won't mind this..." And I jumped on her and made to kiss her. And we lay there, me on top of her, her giggling, me feeling my body start to respond to the very close physical contact, and then, something in her eyes, so close to mine .... I retreated. "You're _serious_?" I asked, even though I knew the truth already. "Yep," she replied, "but I don't know if he knows it yet." ... which made perfect sense to me, considering I was the last one to know about the mindblowing break-up that I went through about two years ago. It seemed to me like she broke up in her head, then she told all her friends she broke up, and then she kinda broke up with me, and then a few weeks later, I realized what had really happened... I hope that's not gonna happen to AC. I _really_ hope he knows what's going on.
Either that, or I hope they get back together before this turns really ugly.
~~~
Surfing at work today, I noticed this page, which has our band officially listed as performing on Saturday, February 5 at Luna Park in West Hollywood at 7:45pm ... yep, it got pushed up from 8pm to give us more time for the extra songs we're adding to the set. The thing that shocked me, though, is that we're the first opening act for Poncho Sanchez, king of Latin Jazz. Wow, we've made it to the big time. Almost, but not quite. Either way, it'll be cool to play on a stage that's been occupied by such "greats" as Alanis Morissette, Beck, Bobby Brown, Branford Marsalis, Debbie Harry. Me'Shell Ndegeocello, Radiohead, Rick James, and Sheryl Crow. It's like being a part of history. Recent history, but history nonetheless.
Of course, it'll be a different story when we hit the Roxy in March. Now that's _real_ history.
~~~
The band learned my new tune last night. Didn't sound nearly as good as it did in my head, but everyone was singing it to themselves on the way out the door, so I guess it's catchy. It still sounds too white to me, and I'm not trying to sound racist (or inverse racist) or whatever I'm sounding like (if that's even possible for a Caucasian (PC alert) like me who is consitently greeted "Hey nigga, whassup?" by his African-American (PC alert) roomies as he walks in the door each night, only to respond in kind: "whassup nigga?" without any fear of reprisal or racial repercussions because that's not what it's about) -- shit, where was I? Long parenthetical remark, that was. Yes, the song still sounds too fucking white. But then again, we've only played it once, and in retrospect, it sounds a lot better than our best song sounded the day we first tried to play it, so I guess that's a good thing. Should I feel good that I my roommates often address me by the "n" word? Should I feel good that I respond in kind? Last night, I get home ... my roommate's friend greets me ... "God-Daaaamn, Chuck, you fuckin' skinny!" "Fuck you, nigga." was my response. (you can't put an "r" at the end lest you sound like a racist white fuck, which of course I'm not, or am I?) "You a skinny mo-fo." "You a fat fuck." And then we energetically shook hands, laughed, and watched some tv. Does that make me accepted or something? I didn't think about it at the time, only now in retrospect. I grew up with that "n" word being taboo ... and I would never think of using it, never _wanted_ to use it, and yet now, it's almost become a term of endearment, or bonding, with a certain group of my friends. Maybe it's not about racism -- whatever it's about, I can't figure it. How can one word carry so much power that I would feel inherently uncomfortable everytime I say it? Admittedly though, lately, I feel less and less uncomfortable saying it to and around these friends of mine. Maybe it's not about what I'm saying, but about how I'm saying it, the context within which I'm saying it. Is it not so much about the word, but more about that person behind the word? The soul behind the word? It's something I've never thought about until now, and I'm hardly prepared to think about it, let alone write about it. Maybe someday ... Language is such a powerful engine. And my tune still sounds way too white. This honky kike is going to sleep. |