Sandman's Journal

Happy 6th day of Chanukah 2004. Dreidels, menorahs, and latkas, oh yeah! I missed Nina's party on Friday. Are there any Jews in North Dakota? I think Bob Dylan lived briefly in Fargo once. I love Jewish culture. I love culture in general. I love colors. I love lights. I love horses. Just 'cause I'm moving to North Dakota doesn't mean I'll be trading in latkas for lefse or my "oy veys" for "uffdas". I will have my yulekaka and eat it too. Think--Hy Burstein or even Broncho Billy. Palestinians, too, have been known to inhabit North Dakota. My parents have a 75-yr-old neighbor named Yassir Yabetch'ya.

So anyway, this weekend of performing was another financial bust. Being as strapped for cash as I've been creates a vicious cycle where instead of being able to appreciate the pure poetry of being able to play new places and meet new people, I guage my enjoyment of the show on how much money I make or how many cds I sell. In turn I get more desperate and choose to play worse shows. That said, I expected to make at least $400 and instead got $40. That means that, after booking expenses, gasoline, automobile wear-and-tear, eating out, and time lost doing jobs that could pay even minimum wage, I lost my damn shorts. I can't take this impoverished lifestyle anymore. I hate myself and everyone in the music business!!! We are idiots. And the worst part is that I'm actually doing better than most; at least I don't have to split my $40 between other bandmates.

As an exercise, though, I'll take off my poverty-goggles and recount the weekend from a gentler perspective. The first show, in Bellingham, got canceled due to a heroine-smoking soundman who unexplicably decided that he wanted to go home early. Somehow we got talked into playing a free show at someone's house. Fifty people crammed into this person's living room and watched the Lucky Devil Girly Show with me singing and rapping in between numbers. It was spectacular, truth be told. The audience was enthralled. Beautiful naked women and beer and nachos and a rapping cowboy from Xanadu. We made the universe a better place to live for a small moment in time. I crashed at my friend Nic's and drove to Seattle in the morning.

In Seattle I met up with my cousin, Kirby, and his wife Megan. They were shopping for Persian rugs downtown and I joined them for a couple hours. Next I met up with my friend, Heidi, for enchiladas. Then I played the show at the Tractor Tavern. Another lady-pal, Kerry, came and brought her friends. My performance that night was shaky, but fine. The crowd responded as generously as ever, and some danced throughout the set. The Jesus Chords were solid and magnificent. The burlesquers gave it their ALL (HOT!). Howlin' Hobbit and Local 360 warmed it up and nailed it down. Baby Gramps was there. At the end of the show the Girlies dragged me up on stage and made me be Santa Clause and hand out toys. They had very nice pasties and glitter. When I got home at 4 a.m. I looked in the mirror and saw that I had bright red lipstick on my forehead. "I have made it," I said to myself. "I am the Senator of Rock and Roll. Can I please get a job at Wal-Mart now."