WEEKEND UPDATE...

I have a script (finally) for the Burlesque Show—and it’s pretty good. I’ve scripted out one of the Fool’s scenes, and have one more to do. The show will include three of my songs: “Electronic Love,” “The Termite Song” (both in response to Ann Landers-type advice questions), and “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes” (after a presentation by the Snake-oil Salesman). Rehearsals Saturday and Sunday next weekend; I’ll miss the music session at the Tillamook Library Saturday, but would like to make sure the Sunday rehearsal doesn’t interfere with the band’s recording.

Had a couple twin sisters (retirement age) show up at the Friday Night Group; they knew some old bluegrass songs, and were obviously used to performing (they said their dad had had a band). It was nice. They said they’d heard about it in the paper—and as far as I know, the only mention of the Friday Night Group in the paper was in my column. Could people actually be reading it?

Tentatively, John, Chris and I will record again Sunday, 9/20. We’ll try to do “base” tracks for 3 or 4 songs—the ones I’d like Jeannette to play fiddle on before she stops visiting the Coast for the winter. I think those should be “Dead Things in the Shower,” “Armadillo on the Interstate,” Un-Easy Street,” and maybe “Rotten Candy.” That last could get by with just a guitar lead if we have to. I can do a decent guitar lead myself on “Un-Easy Street,” and could fake the others—but it’d be nice to have a lead by somebody who was good at it.

The jobs I’ve applied for this week are all local, again—but the two interviews I had this week were for jobs in Salem. And I got a letter from State Fish & Wildlife asking if I was still interested in their office-manager job in Trail, in southern Oregon—and I am. Early October, I think, is when they want to do interviews. I may have an excuse to visit folks down there again.

Fish & Wildlife’s letter did prompt the question of which I’d rather have, a job in town or one far away, and I really don’t think I have any “druthers.” I would druther simply have a job, period, and whoever gets me first, gets me. (I’ve been saying that since I first became unemployed.) And I won’t regret the decision, whatever it is. I have fantasized about going to live and work in all sorts of weird places over the last year, and—being obsessive about having scripts and following them—know pretty much how I’d approach it, no matter where I went. I also know what I’d do here on the Coast. There are advantages to both (disadvantages, too), but I can’t do both.

I have thongs (found two more while I was cleaning out the garage studio.) These things are SMALL—I might be able to get six labels out of a single sheet of T-shirt transfer material. It’d be nice if I could make just the letters print—no background color, in other words; I seem to remember producing a sweatshirt that way (and being surprised at how it came out), but I don’t remember what I did. One of the problems with being a “Renaissance man,” and being able to do a little of everything, is I don’t remember how to do anything very well. I won’t have a chance to work on the thongs until Monday. Monday, too, will be my opportunity to work on April’s songs.

Sunday, after Burlesque Show cast meeting, I went to one of the open mikes advertised on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s Website—at a big bar hight The Spare Room, in northeast Portland—and it wasn’t happening. The bartender told me the open mike had stopped a couple of months ago, because they weren’t getting many musicians. (Too bad—the place has a large, beautiful dance floor.) And they reportedly tried having a DJ, but that apparently just produced police problems. So I left them a CD, and told them I was interested in being their Sunday night music. (Never stop selling.) Next week, I’ll try a different open mike—there’s still two more on the PSA list. I should call first, though.

Joe