a million bucks

This last weekend I went to Lightning in a Bottle in Santa Barbara. My friend Adam-from-the-band-i-brought-home was playing and was able to score me a guest pass. Although I did not go the entire weekend and camp I went all day saturday and had a BLAST. The fog, the mud, the slight rain, then the sun and the parade and the live music. It was quite an experience. I went alone, well I got there by about 10:30am and adam got there to play around 4:30pm and then we hung out til 10pm then drove to san francisco. Wwweeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

But I went alone and it was so ….freeing to be alone, be a stranger – and be accepted at the same time. I somehow had escaped life as we know, well – life as *I* know it; A stream of boredom and wallowing in my own misery because of the town I live in, I no longer get along well with my classmates (some of them I do, but the ones that are in my class have all turned on me), Jeffrey is in Santa Rosa, and time apart is very good for us right now. I escaped time, or perhaps it stood still or I had been time warped to a place that was full of positive energy and love and charisma A place full of life, of expression, of desire, of pull.

Adam played his trombone with 2 other members of the Jazz Mafia (based in San Francisco) with J.Boogie (DJ) featuring Aima, a fantastic female vocalist. He had arrived in time to play first, then hang out so when I made my way to the front row (as you know i LOVE to be in the front row) and blew him a kiss he smiled. It was the first time I’d seen him in 3 years. We email from time to time, and text, and I totally drunk dial him (always have) but it was so great to see him. And equally great to see him play. Musicians are amazing, and I have found that I appreciate live music, but I hang on to everything more when you know someone who is playing. Somehow knowing I have a backstage pass makes me feel superior, and knowing that when they’re done playing, I get a hug and their attention, and that feels like a million bucks, if not more.

I remembered the first time I met adam. It was August, 2001. I was with Ro, downtown SLOville wandering about and we heard music coming from Mothers Tavern. I was wearing brown shoes, a pair of jeans and a tan colored turtleneck. All the other girls were dressed with tight, revealing clothes. Their hair was perfectly pressed, curled or pinned and their makeup was designed for a shoot with playboy, the kind of makeup that looks like 12 layers of gloss were carefully applied while staring into a mini compact just before entering, the kind wear the moment the drinks really start to kick in the eyeliner and mascara start to smear with sweat or tear of laughter, or even tears of sorrow. You know they have on 7 different eyeshadows, and several swipes of mascara – totally committed to their “going out” look. At any rate the band playing was rocking the entire bar and Ro and I could barely get pass the front door,so we set up shop near the end of the bar, by the door. I had been staring at the trombone player, he seemed to be the ring leader making hand motions to the other band members with instruction, it was interesting. He saw often enough that I was watching him and had smiled in my direction. Enough for me to think “was that at me?” Soon enough the band was taking a break and the trombone player found his way over to me and Ro and asked how we were doing, quickly followed by could he buy us a drink and some small talk. Name of the band was Cannonball, they were from San Francisco, and his name was Adam, my name was Aiyani and this was Robin. He had dark hair that hung just above his shoulder and had dark colored eyes, and a wide smile. He was mysterious, I liked it. He went to play another set, and Ro and I enjoyed our drinks and reveled in the fact that a band member totally just bought us drinks and talked to us. We stayed and watched and listened, and drank. They ended the night with a rendition of “When the Saints, Go Marching in. . ” and I remember Adam standing on a table, or chair or something and he kept instructing everyone to go up in key, so they kept changing keys getting higher and higher on the scale – it was quite a site, and impressive to the ears, needless to say. (So of course, every time I hear that song – I totally think of Adam) All of a sudden it was the end of the night and the band was breaking their equipment down. Adam found me and robin safely at the end of the bar and pulled up a stool to talk to us. He found out we liked to do theatre and he asked questions about dancing and acting and singing and where we like to perform, if we’d ever done theatre in San Francisco. All the while the Poly dollies, plastic playboy bunnies, breast popping, drunken, ladies had removed their heels but stumbled up to adam to get his autograph on the CD they just purchased and wanted to tell him how amazing he was, how adorable he was and if he had a girlfriend. One in particular had draped her arm around him and tried whispering something in his ear and he sort of took her arm off and squirmed his head back and gave them some space. All the while asking me about what I do, where i work, what music do i like, where I lived, in a barn! And from that moment they had to come see it!!! The whole band, who was going to drive home at 2:00am, had caravanned out to the barn where Kaza was fast asleep recovering from her wisdom teeth being pulled out. Somehow in my glasses and turtleneck I had won the attention, without really REALLY trying, of the band member whom I had found so intriguing the entire evening and now he was going to follow me home. How dreamy. We got home, had chips and salsa, talked about the Harrison Ford cardboard cutout and soon were ready for sleep. That night, the band member I had found so intriguing on stage with a horn pressed firmly to his mouth in the middle of downtown SLO, slept next to me with his arms curled up around me, and he has made me feel that special every time I’ve seen him since. Like I’m the only person that exists, and all his attention was on me.

Adam finished playing on the Bamboo Stage at Lightning in a Bottle and I found myself backing up to wait my turn to see him. I had walked to the back of the audience and waited and watched the people flock to him, as per usual. Then I made up to him and waited my turn, and when I didn’t want to wait anymore, when the last couple people were telling him how great he was I went and stood next to him, ish. Not too intrusive, but so that he knew I was there, waiting for him. Within moments he had reached out and wrapped his arm around me to pull me next to him. He wasn’t done talking with everyone, so I felt bad for interrupting and buried my face in his shoulder, then accepted my place and listened to the conversation. When it had finished he turned to me, kissed me on my cheek and gave me a hug, told me it was good to see me and that I looked amazing.

We hung out and watched other bands play, had tofu for dinner with rice and whatever and were on the road to san francisco by 10:30pm. I had volunteered to take him home when his ride decided to stay the night. Adam had to play the next day, so it was better to get him home, then try to leave early the next day and risk being late. Road Trip!!! His band mate Rich also came in the princessmobile, and believe it or not I drove half way, and when I took the passenger seat I stayed awake.

Sunday I woke up and though I was invited to stay and go to his gigs (that such a funny word to me, like its ok if he says it, but dumb when I do) with him, and I would have LOVED to go, I needed to get home, so monday I could get back to vista. back to my “existence” as it were.

—————————

Monday came and I had bagels with Jenn (my sister-in-law), Rik, and my mommie, and then – met kaza for coffee at the Steaming Bean in shell Beach.

more to come.

About Aiy_M

5'9" barefoot

Posted on May 28, 2008, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. That *was* you!! I saw someone walk by and even said to Damien– hey, that looks just like Aiyani!

  2. You already have my response to this post living in your telephone.

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