Poagao's Journal

Absolutely Not Your Monkey

Aug 10 2004

It’s raining outside as I write this. I had writte…

It’s raining outside as I write this. I had written a huge post, but the New Improved Blogger apparently has a delightful new feature where, when you highlight text to save, it deletes the post. Thanks, guys. Appreciate it.

Anyway, aw;ep9out 0-[snrgo[xpvsp;9as;dlfj’askjf[klsdl;gsadjg;.adsligj[‘sad ;alsdjf;.adlsfj;sdlkfj.s;lkfmj;asldkhfs;dlhtaw;oeijtporegkjlxfc as I was saying before I went into a fit of rage and taking out my frustration on the keyboard, my chair and an electric fan that was probably innocent, here’s an abbreviated update on the last couple of weeks:

I have a new job. The hours are longer and the work is harder, but it pays better. There was a significant amount of intrigue concerning the transition, so I think it best to leave the details out of this account for now. I can say that I kind of have my own office, which is cool, and an almost frightening amount of responsibility, which could be cool but isn’t quite, not yet anyway.

I’ve been dabbling more in musical stuff lately, especially after having such a good time at Jez’s housecooling party. One night a couple of weeks ago I joined Dave, Sandy and many other musicians at Bobwundaye for a jam session that ended in a lock-in situation. Problem was, the police kept showing up, but just before the officer in question entered, we’d all hide our instruments and look innoence while he looked us over. After he left, the Amazing Disappearing Blues Band would reappear and start up again, the people upstairs would call the cops, and we’d be off again. To avoid this problem I had brought one of my mutes, which was quite a hit. “TC, where’ve you been all my life?” Dave moaned after one piece where the muted trumpet fit especially well.

“Right here, baby,” I replied. I’m not sure whether it was me or the cider talking at that point. Dean had started the evening with us, but he left to go drinking with Rowan, I found out from the text message he sent me. Apparently I was too wrapped up in the music to notice that he’d left.

Anyway, Dave asked me to join the Muddy Basin Ramblers, which I think it quite an honor. Incidentally, The Ramblers were honored themselves by being invited to play with Michelle Shocked last week at The Wall, but I was so sick with a sudden cold I couldn’t go. Sandy’s been telling me how wonderful it was ever since, dammit. Hopefully I’ll at least get to see a video of the thing. The Ramblers’ next performance is at The Living Room on September 11th. I plan to be at that one.

Speaking of The Living Room, Corbett asked me to join his jazz group there as well. Unlike Dave’s group, Corbett’s group plays late 60’s jazz, the kind that might go well as a soundtrack, I’m thinking. That gig’s more work, involving actual memorization and preparation, but it looks like fun. I went over a few pieces with Corbett the other day, and the harmonies we worked out sound pretty good. We’ll see how that works out. I’m still getting my chops back from going so long without practicing.

In other news, Shirzi was back in town last weekend, and he got about six of us together to go karting on Sunday at the place up on the river north of here. The first round went well, though my car’s engine kept cutting out. It had good acceleration and handling, however. We were discussing technique afterwards when I said, “I bet you could flip one of those things.” It’s a well-known fact that go-karts are almost impossible to flip.

Well, you can guess what happened next. This time around I got a car with an anemic engine and slippery wheels. I tried to make up for it by increasing my speed in general, but on one straightaway as I was passing someone with no room to spare, my front right wheel brushed against the wall. Usually the track wall is solid, so no big deal, but at that point in the track it gave away, folding up underneath the car until I found myself launched into the air. As the ground approached from above me, all I could do was hope I didn’t get crushed. Fortunately the roll bar did it’s job, and I was left hanging underneath the car as it ground to a stop, upside-down.

I struggled to release myself from the seatbelt, just as much from a sense of embarrassment as out of concern over the smell of leaking gasoline, and when I stood up to check if the only injuries I had received were a few small cuts and bruises, I was surprised at the havoc I’d managed to wreak. Pieces of track were scattered everywhere, and all the cars were bunched up like an audience behind the wreckage.

The crew hastily put everything back as it had been, more or less, and flipped my car back over. “Is it ok to drive?” I asked, and they said it was. A few minutes later, with only a warning to “be more careful”, I was tapping Shirzi’s bumper on the next straightaway.

The previous day was Maoman’s and Vanessa’s wedding. This has nothing to do with the go-karting incident; I just thought I’d mention it. The ceremony, which I filmed, was held at a nice little church up on Yangmingshan, with Maoman’s dad doing the honors. Later we adjourned to The Village pool for banquet and cake. I saw a lot of Forumosa posters there; it was interesting to put faces to all the bizarre names and goings-on on that site.

The rain that started earlier this evening has gotten quite heavy. It’s been a while since it’s rained. Shirzi and Peter are supposed to be on a ship headed to Okinawa, straight through the path of a typhoon that’s currently approaching the island.

posted by Poagao at 5:08 pm  

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