I Must Be Dreaming...

Last night's show was on the stage at the old Diamond Bar during EVENTgelical's latest art show, Dreaming.  It was a fabulous crowd and I even managed to have a few pieces of art in the show that sold to local people.  :)  Our stage was set up for the fashion show so we rigged the Samurai mic for streaming and performed in front of the back lit, gauze-white curtains.  Too cool.  It was like poetry in the afterlife.  :D

Anyway, I managed to write three new pieces for the show and did a short cover of a piece written about us by a fan on the Samurai of the Spoken Word Fan Page.  (Thanks, Rick!)Two of my three original pieces were about specific people in my life and they both happened to be there in the audience Saturday night and I got a really positive reaction from both of them.

If you missed it and you want to see my set, it is posted here from UStream.  This is Part 2 of the video we took last night, and I start at about 10:25.  Eventually I will get clips for the blog, but I also like that the links I post here enable you to check out other poets, authors and performance artists, too!For my 2nd piece, "Golden Years", I slowly grew an East Coast accent and had a "ringer" in the crowd who was yelling out phrases as part of the overall piece.  Way too much fun.

If I had thought it through, I would have gotten her a mic, too.  Ah well.  Next time.  Since you can't really hear her lines on the video, I thought I would post it here.  And big thanks to Michelle, who inadvertently helped me write that one on her balcony one sunny afternoon when I almost peed myself from laughing with her.  :)



Golden Years  
Why do so many people retire to Florida?
I have no interest in knobbly knees, women’s golf and lawn maintenance. 


When I retire, I am taking my friend Mary and moving to New Jersey.
In my older years I want to be where I can cultivate an accent,
grow my hair big,
talk loud and
NEVER
BE
WRONG. 


At age 65, I plan to take up smoking again.
(inhales)I will use it 
(exhales)As punctuation. 


I will refuse to smoke Marlboros or any other halfway decent brand.
I plan to base my smoking choice on how irritating it is to have the smoke, 
blown in your FACE. 


I will smoke Doral 120s.



Not only do they taste terrible, but they smell even worse.
I will blow it at you constantly, (inhales)
Because second hand smoke kills (exhales)
But not reliably. 


I will drive a 1986 Monte Carlo SS with baby blue leather interior, 
a chrome chain for a steering wheel, 
and a snow white paint job with a detail of little bluebirds flying across the trunk. 


We will ALWAYS talk about taking down the T-tops on sunny days, 
but never will, knowing the wind will just fuck up our hair. 


We will spend Saturday afternoons in the corner beauty parlor getting our nails sculpted and our eyebrows DRAWN back in. 
On alternate weekends I will get the all the hair pulled from my chin.
I will insist the beautician call it “tweezing”, not plucking. 
What do I look like here?  A chicken? 


Mary and I will gossip about all our friends the very SECOND anyone leaves the parlor.
We will say things like,
“Did you see the attitude I got from her?” 
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love her like a sister – but that skirt?”
“Pfft.”
“Dollars to doughnuts says she’s really a man.” 


We will then return to our four-hour primping session. 


We will refuse all modern technology and convenience.
I will find it much simpler in our older years to simply park on the street below 
your open apartment window and yell up,
Heyah!  You comin out or what? 


She will yell back down to me in return, saving us the expense of cell phone charges. 


(From girl in crowd:) “I dunno.  I got nothing to wear.” 


“You look fine – What, we’re goin to the White House?” 


(From girl in crowd:)”No, but you shoulda come by earlier – Now you’ll look better than me.” 


“That’s stupid.  Just come out to the car.  We’re gonna miss the party.” 


(From girl in crowd:)“Who you calling stupid - - Why don’t you just go by yourself if you really think you are.” 


“Oh come on, you’re skeeving me off -- you got more clothes than I got hair on my head.” 


(From girl in crowd:)”Why we gotta do this every time?  If you weren’t late, I could go.  Now?  Forget it.” 


“Oh forget it, yourself!  Why don’t you just go see where you gotta go?  I’m leaving.”  




Our husbands have REFUSED to go to the Garden State with us.
We don’t know why.