Dynamite Comes in Small Packages
Being Chapter the 13th
of THE 2010 SXSW MARCH into SPRING HAIKU & BBQ TOUR--a novella
Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010
I wake up and smell the coffee. Fancy coffee. Teresa's roommate, Heinz has a super-cool uber high-tech coffee-maker that can be set to have a steamy frothy beverage ready at any specified appointed hour. Apparently, it roasts the beans, then grinds them, then brews a single immaculate cup, one at a time. Then it darns your socks, feeds the cat, answers your emails, saves the planet from trash-piles, and writes an award-winning one-act play for your consideration.
Maybe I drifted back off and dreamed that last part. I emerge from my sleeping-bag nest, yawning & stretching.
Teresa goes off to work while Andrew & Gary drink perfect coffees. We all get out our laptops and engage in a variety of computing activities. Eventually, our fancy turns lightly to thoughts of breakfast. On our friend Iris's recommendation we hit the Frontier Restaurant--to which we can walk from our Albuquerque home base. Very convenient. We all order and devour items with green chilies--and we are satisfied....for now. There are more more chilies out there in this town, just waiting to be devoured. And we are the hungry-for-spice band for the job. Yep.
The remaining time left before the gig is taken up with:
1) Gary & Andrew's fabulous new hat purchases at Lobos Men's Store.
And:
2) A bit more laptopping for the guys. I workout whilst singing & warming up my voice--one of my favorite multi-tasking approaches to life on the road.
AND:
3) Planning and then eating dinner with our dear friend Kimberlee who has taken our quest for a proper New Mexican meal seriously. She guides us to an establishment that provides chilies--both green AND red in abundance--smothering various delectables (for example: tamales, enchiladae, and such). She also instructs us on the finer points of sopaipillas: how to put honey in the sopaipilla, then pick up a bite of, say, green-chili enchilada with the honeyed sopaipilla, and then munch morsels of conflicting-yet-harmonious flavors all together now. YES! We like. And thus fortified with spicy foods, we head to our show at
The Orchid Chamber--a groovy Hookah Lounge with cushy seats, moody lighting, and much sweetly-scented tobacco in the air.
We set up on the stage (actually, it's an area that's appears to be designed to be a private booth, which gives more of a vantage point to an array of hookahs than the crowd--but I decide to assume that these inanimate objects really dig me) and we rock some tunes from The Juggler's Progress + more. I see flashes from cameras and various video cameras rolling, so I know we are being well-documented. Good. As it should be.
After our set we receive some glowing commentary from the listeners. Especially effusive is the doorman. He tells me, "I really love your band, and you are just great! Dynamite comes in small packages!". First, this phrase makes me think of green chilies--but then, while I reflect on how flattering this statement really is, he adds "I should know". And thus, we get to bond over being short--he is none too tall, although not as short as me.
Presently, I sit down with Teresa, Rebekkah, and Kimberlee. Rebekkah points out that next time we come through, we should stay with her at her capacious abode--there would be separate rooms for all band mates. Ooh, no earplugs, no drummer banished to the front porch for extra-loud snoring. Heaven! We hastily improvise a haiku about it.
When this year's next year
In Albuquerque again
At Rebekkah's, yo.
But one hopes, this soaring poetry will not even appear to belittle our fine hosts--we are more than ecstatic to be staying with Teresa and Heinz and the fancy coffee-maker. And when we return to Teresa's we run an extension cord out to the porch so Andrew can have a little heater going out there. It's really quite cozy.
Meanwhile, Gary & I are crashing again in the living room. Unfortunately, he is awakened repeatedly by explosive sinus noises I'm producing as a result of breathing/singing in the hookah-smokey environment (and possibly the higher altitude in Albuquerque). He tosses pillows down onto my pallet from his perch on the couch, but to no avail. I snore on. Dynamite comes in small packages.
of THE 2010 SXSW MARCH into SPRING HAIKU & BBQ TOUR--a novella
Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010
I wake up and smell the coffee. Fancy coffee. Teresa's roommate, Heinz has a super-cool uber high-tech coffee-maker that can be set to have a steamy frothy beverage ready at any specified appointed hour. Apparently, it roasts the beans, then grinds them, then brews a single immaculate cup, one at a time. Then it darns your socks, feeds the cat, answers your emails, saves the planet from trash-piles, and writes an award-winning one-act play for your consideration.
Maybe I drifted back off and dreamed that last part. I emerge from my sleeping-bag nest, yawning & stretching.
Teresa goes off to work while Andrew & Gary drink perfect coffees. We all get out our laptops and engage in a variety of computing activities. Eventually, our fancy turns lightly to thoughts of breakfast. On our friend Iris's recommendation we hit the Frontier Restaurant--to which we can walk from our Albuquerque home base. Very convenient. We all order and devour items with green chilies--and we are satisfied....for now. There are more more chilies out there in this town, just waiting to be devoured. And we are the hungry-for-spice band for the job. Yep.
The remaining time left before the gig is taken up with:
1) Gary & Andrew's fabulous new hat purchases at Lobos Men's Store.
And:
2) A bit more laptopping for the guys. I workout whilst singing & warming up my voice--one of my favorite multi-tasking approaches to life on the road.
AND:
3) Planning and then eating dinner with our dear friend Kimberlee who has taken our quest for a proper New Mexican meal seriously. She guides us to an establishment that provides chilies--both green AND red in abundance--smothering various delectables (for example: tamales, enchiladae, and such). She also instructs us on the finer points of sopaipillas: how to put honey in the sopaipilla, then pick up a bite of, say, green-chili enchilada with the honeyed sopaipilla, and then munch morsels of conflicting-yet-harmonious flavors all together now. YES! We like. And thus fortified with spicy foods, we head to our show at
The Orchid Chamber--a groovy Hookah Lounge with cushy seats, moody lighting, and much sweetly-scented tobacco in the air.
We set up on the stage (actually, it's an area that's appears to be designed to be a private booth, which gives more of a vantage point to an array of hookahs than the crowd--but I decide to assume that these inanimate objects really dig me) and we rock some tunes from The Juggler's Progress + more. I see flashes from cameras and various video cameras rolling, so I know we are being well-documented. Good. As it should be.
After our set we receive some glowing commentary from the listeners. Especially effusive is the doorman. He tells me, "I really love your band, and you are just great! Dynamite comes in small packages!". First, this phrase makes me think of green chilies--but then, while I reflect on how flattering this statement really is, he adds "I should know". And thus, we get to bond over being short--he is none too tall, although not as short as me.
Presently, I sit down with Teresa, Rebekkah, and Kimberlee. Rebekkah points out that next time we come through, we should stay with her at her capacious abode--there would be separate rooms for all band mates. Ooh, no earplugs, no drummer banished to the front porch for extra-loud snoring. Heaven! We hastily improvise a haiku about it.
When this year's next year
In Albuquerque again
At Rebekkah's, yo.
But one hopes, this soaring poetry will not even appear to belittle our fine hosts--we are more than ecstatic to be staying with Teresa and Heinz and the fancy coffee-maker. And when we return to Teresa's we run an extension cord out to the porch so Andrew can have a little heater going out there. It's really quite cozy.
Meanwhile, Gary & I are crashing again in the living room. Unfortunately, he is awakened repeatedly by explosive sinus noises I'm producing as a result of breathing/singing in the hookah-smokey environment (and possibly the higher altitude in Albuquerque). He tosses pillows down onto my pallet from his perch on the couch, but to no avail. I snore on. Dynamite comes in small packages.
posted by Margrit | 10:32 AM
2 Comments:
Frontier Restaurant is good for not only decent chile, but VELVET PAINTINGS!
Yes--I neglected that important detail. Their velvet paintings: they are quite fetching!
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