WHERE ARE MY PANTS?

We all know it's a great night that ends with that question.

I realize it sounds (perhaps) more glamorous than it was. I had changed out of my beloved slightly threadbare jeans (and into nominally fancier attire) in the backstage area before Amy Meyers' fun & swanky CD release show. On the way home I realized I had left those very favorite jeans of mine at the venue...TARNATION! DISASTER!

As it turned out, my orphaned trousers were passed by some benevolent soul into Judea Eden's hands for safe keeping. And she returned them ( sadly, minus my keys-- oh well you can't retrieve everything after a gig) the very next day at our superfun rehearsal for Christina Kowalchuk's upcoming CD release extravaganza.

But about Amy's CD release --we loaded in gear, I took off my shoes to do some sliding on the nice slippery polished hardwood floor in the Rhythmix Cultural Center, we soundchecked, we ate some delicious dinner (including but not limited to shrimp cocktail, sushi, pasta salad, mini-croissant sandwiches), we dressed for the show, people flooded in and the 7pm show started. Uh oh--my Doc Martens were somewhere in the darkened venue, perhaps being enjoyed by a mysteriously shoeless Amy Meyers fan. DAMN!! But play I must, and on the show must go, so I popped up onstage in my socks and played keys with Amy's ubergroup, and it was fine--- I secretly like operating the damper pedal with one toe. Since some of the tunes required various configurations of the band, we all ( well, all of us except AMY!) had the odd moments offstage during the set. In one of these breaks I suggested to my cohorts Pam & Jeri & Judea that we should all return to the stage in only our shirts, or that Judea & I should go out when Pam & Jeri were expected, but none of these diabolical schemes were enacted. Come to think of it, the loss of my pants was probably instant karma for my evil ways. Ah.

And what else?

In April, I felt bilious after a particularly carnivorous March, so I have been revisiting some meatless menu delights dredged up from my murky memories of my 12 years of vegetarianism. One of the best things about eating vegetarian food is cheese ( I'm no vegan, dude). Oh I love cheese. I made a strangely scrumptious concoction that I'm finding particularly satisfying after a vigorous swim. It's a sort of casserole situation with a layer of some hearty strain or other of dusky nutty brown rice that I found at Rainbow Grocery, then a layer of toothsome filling --black beans, pinto beans, onions, garlic, apples, a wee bit of shredded brussel sprouts, balsamic vinegar, etc-- and then luscious topping: cheddar cheese, parmesan, pine nuts, walnuts and a bit of breadcrumbs. All toasty in the oven and you too are happy eating it believe me.

Today I had an exalted dinner with the casserole leftovers AND a liberal serving of mozzarella caprese--fresh mozzarella on tomato slices with basil, olive oil, balsamic vinegar.... oh yeah. Moments ago I finished watching the relentlessly post-modern 2006 film, "Tristram Shandy". I'd say it's the 2nd most wacky adaptation of any novel--the winner of wackiest adaptation award goes to "Adaptation" ( which I love). "Tristram Shandy" is pretty hectic & demented & jumps back and forth between 18th century to present day, with a great cast, including Steve Coogan, Jeremy Northam, Gillian Armstrong, etc. Splendidly absurd.


The rest of the week promises more mixing of the True Margrit CD, and for the Crooked Roads--aka Chris Dingman project, more rehearsals for Christina's ( AND TRUE MARGRIT's) big night on SATURDAY SATURDAY SATURDAY!!!!

Hang on to your dungarees.