Anyway, at GBV I had a nice kinda laid-back fashionably-late-to-the-party time (the tour has been going for a month mostly in the West and Midwest and many of my friends have already been to at least one show). Saw lots of my nice peeps and sang and fist-pumped and waved the silly banner I made to make up for being up in the far balcony since the mister can't do stage-front. I may post more abt the show later on, but I have a few more of them to get to and other forums to discuss the shows with Them Wot Care and I'm more interested in Being There in the Wunnerful Moment than writing abt it at this point.
I have been wondering for a while how I was ever Friends with some of my former/ now ex- or distant- friends. I used to think they were fabulous, fascinating creatures. Now I look at them and their antics and think, "How could I ever have been great friends with that person? They sound stupid, they are soooo boring, we have nothing in common!" Yet, they and their personalities haven't changed that much. Have I? After mulling it over for weeks I finally concluded that it likely has more to do with people's interests changing than their basic personalities changing. A lot of my most super-excellent friendships have quite simply been fueled by the fact that we liked the same stuff, usually music or a particular band; that we liked it beyond just "liking" it and into the realm of LIKING it, where it became a focus or a touchstone or source of inspiration or simply the thing we talked a bit about every.single.day at lunch, or online. If somebody suddenly decides they ain't into that band or that scene so much anymore and takes an interest in something that bores me or that I think is dumb, like politics or Quentin Tarantino films or "Lost" or the House of Blues or WWE or flamenco or gypsy violins or People Back Home I Hate, it eventually has the potential to cause a Disturbance in the Force Luke, when I don't want to talk abt that shit at lunch and the other person doesn't want to talk abt whatever I do. They still have the same personalities they did before when I thought they were a bit of alright, and maybe they even liked "Lost" then too, but they liked enough other stuff along with me that I was able to ignore the pits in the cherries. Different story when you're getting nothing but pits.
Terribly elementary, my dear Watson, when you write it down, but it took me a long time to figure it out because I tend to be really loyal and invested in digging the things I dig, including people, and it weirded me out to suddenly find myself thinking folks I'd previously been crackers about were drags. I mean, I'm the kind of person who loves the same band and the same man for 10, 20, 25 years normally, not to the exclusion of all others but still dern steady. I'm not one to change my mind once it's made up, so when I find my mind a'changing about People, it weirds me out.
derekfz was just posting abt a 33 1/3 book, and the guy who wrote the Bee Thousand 33 1/3 book (which I just found my long-lost copy of along with Watt's book, which I've managed to lose and re-find twice now) has been hovering around what with the tour and all. I was thinking today if I ever did a 33 1/3-style book, I'd do it on "Isolation Drills." Bob's divorce album. I was in love then and everybody including Bob and most of his band and a few other people were breaking up and making up and having all sorts of drama, and I was not quite in it, but close enough that I felt the reverb, and given that I was just trying to figure out how to Feel things again without becoming a totalled wreck over them, it was heavy. Like a breathtaking roller-coaster ride you can't get off and sometimes it's sunny and fun and other times it's dark and windy-cold or you've had too much ice cream and cotton candy and you just want the damn ride to end so you can get off. When "Iso Drills" came out it was like acknowledgment of some emotional maelstrom I'd been trying to ignore even while the storm surge (like the opening credits to the old "Secret Storm" soap opera, hah!) swept past my foundation and flooded the basement. I didn't WANT to be in the middle of a fcuking flood, but it seemed like I didn't have a choice except to move back to the dry dead empty desert from whence I came, and I didn't want that either. So I paddled my raft as best I could. I made do like a Doctor Doolittle, shaving with a piece of broken bottle after his shipwreck, floating in the ocean, talking to whatever 'fish were around. And eventually came to a green and (mostly) pleasant land, but some of my shipmates floated away in the process.
It's odd to think abt sometimes, now that We're Finally Here and Shit Yeah It's Cool, and Shouldn't It Be? But in retrospect it makes sense, you can see how things happened and how things had to happen to get to this point. Iso Drills reminds me of these things.