the Lurgy returns, Levon Helm, and off to the Mendocino Coast

• Have been bathing in a pool of my own sweat. Got struck down with the Lurgy that everyone in town has/has had. It is running its course. The sweating is only intermittent now.
  
• Off to Mendocino tomorrow afternoon to go camping with friends from Matty's UC Davis days. Erin will be there! She is game to be my bad girl in crime and to sneak off to the North Coast microbrewery for a pint. Erin has always been so good to Matty and me.
  
• We are picking up a 10x10 Kodiak Canvas tent. I'd bought a cheaper one made of nylon, but decided that with my advancing bad hips, more forays in car camping, and the possibility of more New Zealand bands visiting, I'd better not cheap out. So, I bought a good tent that will last a very long time. Luckily, returning the nylon tent, still unopened in its box, will be a piece of piss.
  
• Saw Scorcese's "The Last Waltz," and Levon Helm ("He can drum, he can sing!") moved me. Somebody once called him the only drummer who could make you cry.
  
• My dear Mutton Birds' English penpal of many years, Spence, finally got to meet Don McGlashan the other day. He and fellow longtime birder Dave were lucky enough to catch Don McG do an impromptu set in Sherwood Forest before the Crowded House show. McG is touring as a member of the CH band. Spence and Dave also got the chance to do an interview w/ McG after the show. I was thrilled for them. They have worked so hard over the years to foster folks' interest in the band and to archive all that is available. Roger King was a star to arrange the tickets, passes, and meeting. Don McG seemed to indicate that there will be a U.S. West Coast tour in the not too distant future. I have cast my lines out for the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra, Don McG, and the Phoenix Foundation (folks here still ask after them often). Fingers crossed that I'll know how to set my lines if and when the time comes.
  

Night two. NZ Music holds court in a basement somewhere in Downtown LA

I got to meet Don McGlashan minutes after weeping like a maudlin baby for Paul Hester. Crowded House closed the tour with "Better Be Home Soon" for PH, and after the high emotions of the week (all the Schoberlews are being treated for strep, family reunion dramas, personal dramas, blah blah), the thought of poor, fucking Paul Hester hanging in a public park just made me very, very sad.

Don McGlashan is cheekier than I imagined. He got and ran with it when I thanked him for "embracing his 'inner Black girl' on this tour." He said, "Ah, but you should have heard me sing "Bathe in the River" (a song of his in the gospel style with lovely falsettos) in New York." Matty thanked him for writing love songs to civil engineers the world over (McGlashan's father was a civvie). Roger King was lovely for offering us a chance to go after the show to say "hullo." I initially said, "Thanks, nah [strange melancholy twitter goes here]," but Bibi kicked my ass. I guess part of me wanted to always be able to refer to the "time I turned down the chance to...."

Don McGlashan loves the Phoenix Foundation, too. Joy. Pure Joy.

So, in the dank green basement of the Orpheum Theatre in rundown Downtown LA, I got to say a heartfelt "thank you" to the man who sings the Very Important Songs inside my head. Matty and I spent the rest of the time people watching or chatting with each other or with Bibi or with a lovely college concert promoter from Vancouver who flew in for the night to pitch to Don, too. All I have to say is Bishop puts together better appointed afterparties in our backyard.

Roger and Don seemed to appreciate the Woodford Reserve Bourbon we brought. I am getting superstitious. Woodfood, I think, helps me with "closing" (if I may continue to use the Glengarry Glen Ross references). I think it's what did it for with the Phoenix Foundation fellas. Thank you, Woodford, for making a good, lasting impression.

Extra highlight of the night: I got to thank Bret McKenzie for telling me how to get the Phoenix Foundation (and the Black Seeds) to Bishop (Stop wasting your time with the band. Convince Matt, the manager. His bands will go where he books them). I was touched that McKenzie asked, "Didn't I meet you outside Spaceland? It (the Phoenix Foundation show) happened? How did it go?" I just thought, "What a classy guy." I mean, here he is King of the World and he a remembers talking to some crazy woman (of which there are more passing through his and Jemaine Clement's lives than probably anybody else in the world) a few years ago and then asks how his friends were received in a small town in America....

I also got to tell Greg Johnson that "Liberty" was a fine song. Bibi told him that his cornet solo on the Able Tasman's "Michael Fay" (one of her fav. songs of alltime) is stellar. I did the Bishop pitch lite. He seemed interested. I couldn't tell if it was because he's been living in LA too long and has become a good actor or because he *would* come play in my living room for little more than a band of interpretive dancers, gas money, food, lodging, some CD sales. We exchanged email addresses.

International observer

Don McGlashan's set at Crowded House's technically wonderful* show was the best 20-25 minutes I've spent in a while**. The songs were: Winning Numbers, A Thing Well Made, While You Sleep, something referred to by folks in the audience as the Boyfriend Song, Andy, and Anchor Me. His voice was strong, clear, not showing signs of an intense tour. He was cheeky. He was no longer a luddite and his loops worked beautifully. I was moved more than once, I was lucky to see the man perform again, I was lucky to hear the soundtrack to my life live.

I am not a very good stalker.
I am a librarian at heart, a collector and indexer of facts and information.
I am also a keen observer - although you'd never know it by how my mouth sometimes "blah blah blahs" and my arms flap when I should just stand still and smile.

I walk into a lot of situations and suss out certain facts and factors and extrapolate. I can spot certain folks from a mile away. Matt calls this my "Terminator Eye". Bibi has seen me use it more than once.

Tonight, Bibi and I met the lovely Marc who is a VERY BIG NZ music aficionado and a fellow Mutton Birds, Humphreys and Keen, and Flying Nun fan. Marc and I have been sharing "mixtapes" on and off for about 4 years now. We found him with my Terminator Eye. Within minutes of meeting Marc, I zeroed in on a man with a tag flapping on a lanyard. I didn't mean to scare Don McGlashan's manager when he walked by, but I just blurted out "Roger King?" and lo and behold, it was him. He just had cool angular metal framed glasses and a shirt that was a shade of sky blue that nobody from LA wears because they are all wearing black or now, brown.

If I see him tomorrow night, I must apologize for my Glengarry Glen Ross hard sell of Bishop. I just kind of get excited, and it just comes out like a steamroller. Bless, bless, bless Sam Scott of the Phoenix Foundation for doing the advance work for me and for just telling Roger about the show and experience TPF had. Sam did more to sell Bishop than my said blah blah blahing and flapping of arms. I said I could suss out situations. I didn't say I knew how to behave in them.

Roger King said he also manages the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra. I oohed and ahhed and flapped my arms at that, too. I had visions of the best time in Bishop, with Lynne bringing along any number of her six ukes and folks really getting into the singalong to "Ziggy Stardust." Interesting times ahead, Inshallah. Hope I didn't kill them with my aggressive geek routine.

I did feel happy wearing my butchy cowboy costume I wear to NZ artists' shows (the "I Love Te Aro" teeshirt, jeans, packer boots). I don't know, I just feel like a tomboy on a mission in my guise- like I am channeling the person I was when I was an optimistic energetic kid. After the surgery, I was not sure if the boots, which weigh nearly 10 pounds for the pair, would need to be retired. Three cheers, they don't.

*As nice and pitch perfect and even spontaneous as the CH show was, I wasn't moved - other than by watching Don McG let his hair down and enjoy being in somebody else's band for once.

**I had a great time at the Over the Atlantic show - really and truly. But, Don McG's all too brief set allowed me to have a few of those experiences when you kind of leave everything you know and exist purely in the moment.

Ticket success and a full night's sleep

Got tickets to the Crowded House/Don McGlashan shows - sixth row off center the first night and third row center the second night. Part of me really hopes but knows that McGlashan won't sing "She's Been Talking." If he does ever make it here, he can sing it to us (and the line "the whole town's still at the show" will mean so very much).



Wyatt didn't bonk last night. So, we got a full night's sleep. Hurrah! Now, for some fine, fine tuning.

The soundtrack of my life - live in LA

Don McGlashan, the man whose songs played on endless loop in my head for over a decade, is opening for Crowded House on their American tour. McGlashan was behind the bands Blam Blam Blam, the Front Lawn, the Mutton Birds, and his own solo efforts. My Mutton Bird and NZ music partner in crime Bibi is flying out to Los Angeles from Atlanta, and I am trying to convince fellow Mutton Bird forum listees Steve C. in St. Louis and Marc H. in San P that now would be a lovely, lovely time to meet. Matty will be there for one of the two nights and watching Wyatt the other.

There will be the stress of trying to have nimble and accurate fingers on the computer the morning of the presale. There will be the excitement of seeing McGlashan perform the songs that have been the soundtrack to my adult life live. There will be the sober grown up things that Matt and I have to address in the days after the shows, when we take Wyatt to his diabetes and now, Gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) consultations (the Prevacid only works so well).

Ever the Pollyannaistic opportunist, I have fired off an earnest letter to McGlashan's Manager Roger King pitching Bishop as a wonderful decompression spot for singer songwriters who like playing in front of enthusiastic crowds. Luckily, Sam Scott put in a good word for our efforts when he was on tour with King last year.

Nothing ventured....

*and I might ask for my first autograph ever if Harry Sinclair, one half of the brilliant brilliant Front Lawn, should be there.

SJD

Songs from a Dictaphone just arrived and it's such a thing of beauty WITH a beat that I'm just sitting here simply gobsmacked.

I learned about SJD (Sean James Donnelly) when I saw Don McGlashan play the 2002 New Zealand Festival. SJD was his bassist. It was a very lucky thing for me, Matty, and some friends here, too. We've been grooving to and thinking about his music since we got our hands on the amazing Lost Soul Music.

You can hear samples of three out of four of SJD's releases (Lost Soul Music, Southern Lights, and Songs from a Dictaphone) at Smokecds. The song "Two Bodies" from Dictaphone slays me.

Having fun with the Silvia

The new Rancilio Silvia has a steep learning curve, but it's fun. It makes lovely microfoamed milk, too. The tamper got left out from the shipment, so it's only going to get better. I am not comfortable enough to use the naked/crotchless/bottomless portafilter with the 3 shot basket. I'm busy working on my temperature surfing techniques.

Matt's ankle hurts and my hip hurts. This means a big storm is coming in. Big enough to keep my dad home and not hang out with Wyatt tomorrow.

Daycare will be a bit of an adjustment for Wyatt. He's just not used to being around so many children. His peer group so far has been a bunch of 40 year old alcoholics who swear too much. He will have to learn about children sometime. It won't be the end of the world for him. We're only looking at daycare 2 mornings a week. He's been lucky to have had it so good for so long.

NPR's Day to Day did a lovely wee segment about the Front Lawn. Naomi mentioned something over Chinese New Year festivities about "some obscure New Zealand band on NPR." Little did I realize it would be something so near and dear to my heart. It was lovely, they talked to both Harry Sinclair and Don McGlashan who said the Front Lawn releases still sell. Bless.