Yeah, it's me. Seriously, though:

7 p.m. at Cafe Luna
No cover!!!
1742 W. 99th
Across from the 99th/Beverly Metra station in the historic Beverly neighborhood.

Getting out and playing again is rocking the house. I've missed it, and I'd forgotten that I'm actually pretty darn good. Plus, it's nice to just sort of get out and play around and have fun on my own, without worrying too much about a band or "where things are going" blah blah blah.

I've got a weekly gig at the coffeeshop around the corner, plus this one on Saturday, plus I'm playing at a nursing home just for kicks. It's all good, all around.

It's good to be back. [insert your own shit-eating grin]

Funny story, though...in addition to the music, I've been really getting into the size acceptance thing. I've been reading blogs like crazy and educating myself on the science and just sort of soaking up a lot of stuff about fat and all the different perspectives around it.

I've sort of been teasing around some stuff like this for awhile, mostly centered on personal boycotts of anything with advertising that I thought was irresponsible in its potential effects, especially on young people (i.e., motherfucking Subway and just about every commercial they have ever done since one fat guy apparently got skinny by eating their weird-smelling food).

I'm starting to get fired up and want to do something more direct, more political, but I'm still sorting out what that is. In the meantime, I'm becoming more and more aware of just how anti-fat the world is.

Take this evening...I'm playing a set at the nursing home, for an audience of, well, old folks (I'd forgotten how much I really like older people...I think it comes from getting along better with grown-ups than I ever did with kids when I was a kid). I've just dragged myself in from the crazy pouring rain outside and am trying to dry off and warm up my guitar and voice. A few folks are straggling in from dinner, a little early for the show. One lady comes in and sits down and I'm making conversation, asking if she had a nice dinner.

She starts right in with talking about how she ate too much - how she shoulda just had a nice salad. She then somehow segues into how she started eating salad and lost over a hundred pounds!! I say, "Wow," trying to think of a polite way to avoid some bullshit positive reinforcement and decide on, "That's an accomplishment." Of course, it can't end there...she's got to minister the gospel of Eating Nothing But Salad to me - "you get used to it, you don't even miss the bad stuff." I'm smiling and nodding and then she goes for the clincher: "You could be really popular, if you just lost some weight. You're young and pretty and talented, people would just love you!"

I couldn't stop the automatic eyeroll, or the next words I said, which were: "I'm not interested in popularity, I'm interested in integrity. Anyone can be popular." (You may note the omitted f-words.)

One of the other ladies must've got hip to my lack of enthusiasm and suddenly decided to effusively thank me for coming out in the pourng rain to play for them. Apparently, my humoring, out of courtesy, a rant I clearly didn't agree with was less well hidden than I suspected.

I think I may have lost a fan...

Recent entries...
27 December 2007: 2007: Finis.
17 December 2007: A ruse, a rant, and a poem. It's short.
11 December 2007: Music & falling....story of my life.
08 December 2007: Briefly...ish.
29 November 2007: A poem, a rant, a lesson.