It’s Monday and I haven’t written since Thursday. I’ve been busy and that means I have a lot to catch up on. I’m not sure how I’ll do this, go light on details or write multiple entries or one very long entry. None of those appeal to me. I’ll improvise like Pat Mahomes on a broken play.
Friday started with therapy. I probably had exciting stories about what I ate and how I got there but they must make way for expediency. The first thing I told her was that my identity crisis was over. Did I tell you that? I got my fancy new driver’s license in the mail. I am once again a full-fledged person. When the cops ask to show my papers, I can. That means I can now get my social security card. I’ll soon be a real boy. I loved that my therapist knew what it meant when I told her. She knows my sense of humor. I don’t trust a therapist that doesn’t get my jokes. That’s might be a good rule for everyone, but it’s not based on any data, so I won’t push it. Just because something sounds like it should be true doesn’t make it true. Here I am trying to be brief, yet I go off on a philosophical tangent. That shows how important it is to be skeptical, even of yourself.
I got a phone call during the session. I’m didn’t recognize the number, so I let it go. I’m not sure who I would answer it for. Probably nobody. I’m not a doctor on call who has to rush to save a life. Nothing in my life is so urgent that I have to interrupt therapy for. When I got out I checked my messages. It was the Census Bureau. I applied for a job with them. I got it! I had given up on hearing back from them. I’m an enumerator. I’m going to go to homes that haven’t responded to the census to find out who lives there and ask simple questions. I’ve done enough market research work that this should be an easy. My only concern is that I don’t speak Spanish and my neighborhood is largely Hispanic. If they move me to someplace I can get to on public transit I wouldn’t mind. I can take a bus to Riverdale or a subway to Harlem and other parts of Manhattan.
I had to get to Irvington after therapy. They are both in Westchester, that shouldn’t be difficult, but it is. Public transit in Westchester mainly runs north-south, I had to head west. The best I could do to get there as early as I needed was a bus to Elmsford then take an Uber. At least the driver, Ana, was good.
I was in Irvington for the first ever Irvington Folk Festival, the brainchild of Carter Smith who runs the Common Ground Coffeehouse. I’m generally all in on anything that Carter does. There were four really good reasons for me to be there; Carter, Dar Williams, Antje Duvekot, and Revenge Barbecue.
My prime job was cute merch guy but as I was there early I also helped with set up, personal valet, crowd control, and comic relief. As Amy Speace said, “He’s a man about folk.” I should make business cards with that printed on them. I love when people try to explain who I am. I did find time to run over to Revenge and get dinner. They were out of most things when I arrived, they stay open till they sell out, but tried their jalapeno sausage for the first time; it was great, as was the mac and cheese. Go to Irvington for the same reason that Bilbo and the dwarves went to the Lonely Mountain, REVENGE!.
This was an old friends show. I met Antje in 2000 when she played the Budgiedome and Dar, god knows when. I first saw her in the mid-nineties. I don’t know when she became aware of my existence. The thing about Dar though is that she is exactly the same off the stage as she is on it; even when you are but one of thousands of people watching you feel like you met her. There were old friends in the audience, Mark & Beth, Kevin, Perry & different Beth, you can’t tell your Beths without a scorecard, Rick, and the many people that I’m forgetting as things were sort of crazy.
Antje and Dar made my life simple by charging the same for all their CDs, the only thing different was Dar’s book, What I Found in a Thousand Towns: A Traveling Musician’s Guide to Rebuilding America’s Communities—One Coffee Shop, Dog Run, and Open-Mike Night at a Time. Did you know that Dar is now a woman of letters? It shouldn’t be surprising given the quality and nature of her songwriting. Is that title pure Dar or what?
There was a special treat late in the evening. It wasn’t surprising when Antje joined Dar for a show, but they were also joined by Joe Crookston who wasn’t on the bill until Saturday. Joe lives to collaborate like that and wanted in on the fun. He is also a Budgiedome alumnus. Hey Dar, when are you going to play for us?
I was concerned with the timing as I had to be back at Irvington at 1:15 the next day. I didn’t want to get home, go to sleep, then head right out again. I got lucky; Kevin offered me a ride home. That saved me an hour. I was home before midnight. It looks like this is where I’ll finish for now. I will try and write again today before I go out as I’m doing things today worth writing about.
Wise Madness 