Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Nashville Recording Artist
So these are some photos of the September/October tour. They are older but better late than never. The little girls are the dance group who performed just before us at the city festival we played in Ivan's home town. That was a lot of fun. I was surprised to see how many little kids and old folks walked up and sat down in the grass and around to watch us. I think they liked it. I know the little kids liked it because we had some dancing babies but the old folks liked it too. They didn't watch the guy after us who was playing acoustic covers (Brown Eyed Girl, etc.) and they weren't really into the earlier musical act, the "Nashville recording artist" who was playing mostly covers of country songs. But the dancers and the Rosebuds they liked. So I felt happy about that. Some people will respond to original art if they are exposed to it so more city party planners should consider getting us to play, or Portastatic, or Crooked Fingers, or, I don't know, the Strokes.
One more thing about that Nashville recording artist: if anybody, say Ivan, went to Nashville and recorded a song at a studio in the city limits, wouldn't he be considered a "Nashville recording artist"? You should have seen this band. It was embarrassing. Not the costumes: red, white, blue shirts with large stars on them, and not the hats either, oversized suede cowboy hats, but the white, stretched Lincoln Navigator limosine with a trailer attached that they were traveling in (see attached photo). I can only hope that the singer's husband was a Nashville limo driver for recording artists or something because otherwise, that was just repulsive. Probably not to other people though. I guess other people see an SUV limo and think, "Nashville recording artist!!!"
We put our Christmas tree up. It's a large, white, plastic, fiber optic, flashing monster that couldn't look any more fake and that's why we love it. When I saw it flashing and buzzing with all it's internal electrical gadgetry and plastic wonderfulness, I knew Ivan would freak out over it. This past spring I tore out all the old shrubs so that I could plant ones that bloom and are fragrant but now we only have little tiny shrubs so there isn't really a place to put outside lights. Everybody on the street has them on the fence or on small trees or shrubs but we don't have all that yet. But we bought a lot of those strings of ceramic lights--the big bulbed ones--and now we are stuck. I suggested we put some on the mailbox and Ivan suggested we put them on the big, green, city-issued trash can and wheel it out to the front. He said something like, "you know, dress it up." It has to be illegal and I guess we'll find out.