Yesterday, also, I woke up later than planned. I guess the alarm didn't go off? Anyway, it was like 9:19 or something and I took off down the road, through the woods, met the gang coming the other way down, due apparently to the arrival of yellow-rumped warblers. We saw some, er, mallards, and heard ruby-crowned kinglets or maybe blue-grey gnat-catchers, and some people saw the latter, but I couldn't. In French we had that amusing tall dark curly guy as a substitute, and he had us talking about marriage and then debating its merits one-on-one; I used Elizabeth's parents to argue with her about it. Came back to eat something and scrounge around trinity, but there wasn't much there, then bird class, where Edith was smiling again. I signed up to go on a field trip Sunday, which will be a nice way to make up the last two walks. Finally got a minute with Jenny Yim; she reluctantly agreed to give me $250, which is better than nothing I suppose. And I did some more nothing.

Practiced and then went to the dance concert: first some impressive (and well-lit) Taiko that still wasn't quite dance, then Liza bopping about and twirling and jerking to Beethoven in a white dress and red "second-prize" ribbon (it's funny to see her now, or actually not funny come to think of it; those heady days seem so far in the past), and then the African troupe dressed as trees (very good.) Unfortunately I had to take off before the second half, to keep my appointments. The weather was extremely dramatic at this point - the heat had started to break, and rain was imminent, but there was just a darkening and wind, everyone out on the beach and blowing. Mark drove me here with Erick Morrilo blasting "lift your hands and scream and shout" or something, picked up lights and music. And eventually Rae and co. returned from Jess's birthday party, which had been interrupted by the rain just as it was finishing up. I put on pants.

Despite a bit of traffic, we made it into the city and found a parking garage before 6:30, listening to Ben's "Pynched/Promised" tape on the way (highlights: the Cornelius "Bizness" mix; Bowie's "Andy Warhol" - what album is that from?). Dinner at samosas - yummy and cheap and very filling; we were too full to eat the little sugar candy so we just threw it up in the air on the sidewalk. Talking about the best concerts we've ever seen (mine: David Byrne @ Water Street 1997, hers: Thurston Moore, Yoko Ono, and DJ Spooky [simultaneously] in NY somewhere obviously) and groups that we would want to see live. Rather than brave parking again, we walked the several blocks over to Tower, where a substantial number of people were hanging out outside. There were probably more inside though; theoretically 400, mostly (much) older and probably ex-hip. Rae and I squeezed into the side right in front of the clear space through which El was to walk to the stage. A woman with a lanyard and a card asked us to step back a little, and there he was.

Walked over to the little platform stage ("we had to leave the band up in new york, there wasn't enough space on stage") in his bulky black jacket and those silly yellow sunglasses he's wearing everywhere these days, with short short hair. He only played six tunes, switching guitars between each of them (only one on an electracoustic) and all of them (i think) accompanied by interestingly varied beats from his dual drum-machine setup. They were all from the forthcoming album, and thanks to the liner booklet that we were handed before the signing, I can tell you the titles: "Spooky Girlfriend" (with "Let Him Dangle"-like dumb doot-doot-doot line that he tried to get us all to sing along), "Tart" (the catchiest, I think, with high cracked vocals on the title), "Alibi," "When I Was Cruel (#2)" (which has an interesting cut-off sample of a woman's voice "um--" - the spin review described this as "Portishead" without the self-pity) and of course "Tear Off Your Own Head" (the only one the whole crowd new, but they weren't even singing along that much.) We tried to move around the crowd to get closer in line for the signing, but ended up being herded all the way to the back of the store, to stand motionless for fifteen minutes, looking at all the videocassettes, and then slowly moving forward, past the DVDs and CD box-sets and so on; when we were about halfway to the stairs Sydney Bev came up and said hi - she had managed to get into the show despite only having a "blue voucher," and had already gotten her signature. Eventually, they let us up into the jazz/blues area upstairs, the antechamber to the king's throne room. We were handed copies of the CD booklet. I opened mine to the page I had seen some others' signed on, thinking to save time. And then it was my turn - I complimented him on his hat, thanked him "for everything," shook his hand and called him friend. He asked Rae about her book (the form of the city) and she asked him if he knew DeLillo (she said the whole instore experience was DeLillan), he was confused for a while, then said oh, yeah. I realized right after that I should have asked him about that lyric in "Home Truth" that sounds like a cop from "Television Man" even though it hadn't come out yet. Oh well. So how did it feel meeting "would you call him your idol?" "maybe in some kind of workshop"? Pretty much how I expected. He seemed very much like I expected - funny fashion sense and all (he had on a sort of goofy black knit hat at the signing table; also a woman in front of us gave him an ugly hat she had been knitting in line.) Cool enough but not frustrating the way it might have been as a let down. Syd joined us for the walk back the car and drive back through the busy streets and open freeway - blasting "Just a Friend" and bazouki and "Traffic Lights" at the sidewalk cafés and passing trucks.

Arrived back to Danawell trailer just in time for the start of the famed Assassins video, done by Anna Stratton, which was I thought excellently in the b&w/silent physical comedy mode, with star turns by Gerrit and Sam (of course) especially, and some good Alison and John Fort as well. Then the massive assembly (nearly 70, is the rumor) went through names, almost all of which I fortunately knew - just a ridiculous number of players, and as many asses. Among what I had missed was the introduction of the new rule (the death squad which comes after you after three days of inactivity) and a reading of an e-mail poem by Christine Couture about my kill (which she then read for me again.) And the folks dispersed, to plot and so on. I was satisfied with my assignment, and already began to consider possible avenues of approach. The bummer was that Brigid, who had agreed at least a day before that we could hang out that night, announced that she "had to do math that night because her math buddy's parents would be there the next day," which I realized a few minutes later was a completely absurd excuse, and actually somewhat infuriating, given that I've been trying to see her for several weeks now (as she knows full well), and that math busyness has always been her difficulty.

So that was annoying. Also, I had missed the beginning of Red, which movie committee was showing. I stopped by Mark's room for a while, to check some of his/my house. Then, headed for Willets for various reasons, ran into Elena and a somewhat gone Matt on the way, walked with them up to McCabe and back, and to E's room, where "Photo Jenny" was blasting before we even got there. I knocked thrice on Nick's room across the hall, not sure if he was in, and eventually he answered, clearly having emerged from sleep. But despite wild hair and (of course) barefeet, he pulled out a file of checks and forms and tried to figure out SRN budgeting stuff. What he had to say was promising, also suggestions for other sources which I hadn't heard before. But who knows if it will come to anything. Then I came home, chatted with roomies for a while, and watched Roger and Me with Rebecca. It was late (after 1:00 when we started it), and I was drifting off something awful, but I enjoyed the film nevertheless, especially the 50's-isms (Pat Boone, Miss America) and the funny but tragic rabbit-vendress. As Edith stresses, it is I suppose "dated," but I didn't feel like the satire was overly forced. I would like to see the sequel. And that sleeping thing. Nggghhhhh.

House Music
(sure it's real music)