March 2--This morning I picked up Adam from his mother's apartment about 11 a.m. AS I climbed the stairs I could hear the two of them arguing like an old married couple. "How come I'm always picking up after you?" "You're not, but you keep talking about it." "I do a lot of things around here and I don't seem to get any help." "I'm trying to help but you keep talking." "You're not helping, and these aren't my toys..." I almost walked back down the stairs to let them finish their argument. Strange to think that this child is only nine years old but that his mother has already trained him to argue with a grown-up woman. Not intentionally, of course.
So I got to the top of the stair, and the child ran to me and jumped up, saying nonsense things. He was a kid again. "How come you always start acting silly when your father shows up?" she said, trying to jump start the argument, but it was no good. I was there and he was tired of fighting.
We left after he'd finished picking up the toys on the floor. We went to a little cafe where they have ceramic figurines to paint. Adam choose a plate and painted the name of the cafe, Mudd's, on it, with a little coffee cup. I painted a bowl with some stick figures playing musical instruments. Our friend Marlena, who was with us, did a little tile with "Hollywood" on it, as she lives in that seedy, famous little town. It was nice for the boy to get back to being a child, I think.
Right now he's in the other room, playing his computer game. He's working on Age of Empires II, a game whose strategy is beyond me. But at least the game's having a good effect on him: He's more interested in history now, and is checking books on Ancient Rome and Ancient Egypt and Joan of Arc out from the library. The down side: We were going to go skating today, but he decided he wasn't up to it after the painting and the library and his little friend Breeanna coming over to run him ragged. Sigh. We both bought new roller blades for his birthday, but we haven't used them at all yet.
The gig at Mother Mudd's was much fun last night. I played some very nice lead lines--yeah, I know, I'm just as surprised as you. The guy who books the place, Todd, came by and played a little mandolin for us. This First Fridays thing is going to be a goodie, I can see this. If you can ever make it out, that would be great. My friends and sometimes backing band, Rob and Teresa Wyman, showed up with their kids and it was kind of weird playing to them and not in front of them. Rob is very busy with the rockabilly and jazz bands he's playing with, but we agreed to try to mount something special in the next few months.
Tomorrow, Sunday, it's McClain's for the first time on a Sunday. We're hoping a crowd that likes story songs shows up. See you then, maybe. By the way, if you're not coming to any of the gigs, don't sweat it. I play Southern California a lot, and right now I'm more interested in getting up my chops and building my mailing list. If you do make it out, that's great, but don't feel guilty or feel you have to explain to me when we meet again why you didn't make the last one. I'm glad whenever I see you, and know you're not going to be there every time, or even often. It's great to see you whenever. AS I said. I'm getting old and tired, as I seem to be repeating myself.

March 1--I know it will likely bust your image of me, but last night I went to the opera. Yes, the friggin opera. It was a cheery little Russian bon bon called "Eugene Onegin." In it the hero, who's a bit of a fop, rejects this fine looking young thing in her declaration of love for him. Then he gets mad when his buddy drags him to the young thing's birthday dance, so he flirts with his buddy's fiancee. The fiancee is an airhead so she lets Onegin flirt with her, making the buddy (who's a poet and should know better) very, very jealous. So the buddy challenges Onegin to a duel. Since they're both part of the nobility, and since the Russian Nobility was famous for its lack of good sense, they end up dueling and the poet gets killed. (Why do they always bump off the poets?) Onegin is so broken up over this that he wanders Europe for a few years and the young thing--her name, by the by, is Tatyana--gets married to a Prince. An older guy, but pretty affectionate for a general. (Hey, some of us old guys can rock with the best of them). Onegin, who happens to be related to the Prince (not hard, since all the Russian nobility was related to each other--another reason why they didn't have much brains), comes to a party thrown by the Prince and sees Tatyana. He's immediately smitten with love for her and comes back the next day to beg her to run away with him. Tatyana, being a woman, is much smarter than the idiot fop, and tells him that she loves him a lot but it would be a lot better if he disappeared.
I wonder if we're supposed to feel sorry for Onegin. All I kept telling myself was that he was a toad. Tchaikovsky didn't help much by giving Tatyana the best scene in the opera, and giving the Prince one of the best songs. Even the soon-to-be-dead poet gets a better scene while he's waiting for Onegin to show up to the duel. Onegin has almost nothing to do but wander the stage looking bored and lost. A truly thankless role.
Gotta tell you, though, the music was very lovely. Very Tchaikovsky--lush, melodic, memorable. Last year I bought season tickets to the opera because I felt that, as a musician, I might as well see how the big guys did it. I haven't regretted it. It also occurred to me, watching the audience, that women seem to feel opera deeper and better than men do. I know that if I'd have had a date with me, she would have been in tears. Bonus: I would've gotten lucky at home.
Tonight I'm at Mother Mudd's with Leslie Claussen. Sunday, May 3, I'm at McClain's in Fullerton for a two hour gig at 6 p.m. Hope to see some of you there.
By the way, some of you have complained about the size of the font here. I'm looking into it, seeing if I can get a better size. With men, size does matter--when we're talking print fonts, that is.

Feb 27--okay, somebody tell me how this works. I signed up with these nice people yesterday and wrote a very fine, lovely, tender, heart rending and warming piece about my son and I playing soccer in the front yard. I hit the "publish" button and I've never seen the entry again! What did I do wrong? Oh, technology...I feel like such a brontosaurus sometimes.
So I'm going to try this again, though the little entry about my son and I playing soccer has been sacrificed to the computer gods, those who laugh and care not for human emotions. Our lives have been reduced to 1's and 0's.
Today was somewhat less idyllic. My son had to go to his dentist's appointment at 2:30 p.m. today, so I had to take half the day off of work in Harbor Court. This did not make my supervisor happy, as I already took Monday and Tuesday off for a scheduled vacation. Debbie, my supervisor, is a wonderful lady (if you're reading this, Debbie, I really mean it) but she is a workaholic, and gets aggravated with the rest of us if we don't share in the gung ho attitude 24/7. I knew she would growl at me if I told her I had to leave early, and she did, quite literally. But I'm going to take care of the afternoon calendar tomorrow so she and the other lawyer on the calendar, Steve, can have an afternoon off to enjoy the warm weather.
Those of you who are not native Southern Californians are likely puzzled that we are hitting the 80's in the middle of February. I am not. This happens every year in late Feb. or early March: Our pre-spring summer. The cold will return in late March and will continue through to early June. By July, it'll be hot as Hades, which will last until early November. WE just don't have weather like the rest of the world. Adjust.
For those of you who are wondering when I play next, my friend Leslie Claussen and I play at Mother Mudd's this Friday, March 1, at 8 p.m. We are going to be there the first friday of every month until further notice. that's at 4112 Viking Way in Long Beach, off CArson near Bellflower Blvd. I'm also going to be at McClain's in Fullerton (on Harbor near Berkeley Way) on Sunday at 6 p.m. Come by and say hello.
That is, if this post actually works.

mcbruce