Goodbye Kitty

6.17.20

Somewhere in here I lost my faux enthusiasm for things I did twice weekly in the Before Times. Playing music for beer and french fries, struggling to herd cats and possums and hippies without a paddle, etc. I knew right away the RELIEF!!! of not having to Stop whatever I was doing, Stage myself in Berkeley, Pack and Haul equipment up and down stairs and around the corner to play for two hours to an empty venue for a half-cheeseburger, half-pitcher of beer, and $3 in tips. Well, it was a good run, mostly fun until the backstabbing started. What a relief, yes, three months in, to say I am done, and DONE.

Tara and I have been working on new material since shortly after the shut-down-in-place began, me taking the lead vocal on several of her tunes, almost out of my range. My voice is getting stronger and clearer, and I have managed to maintain calluses on my fingertips. Since his arm injury from the Serenellini at the last Polka Cowboys gig, Art has taken up electric guitar with a vengeance.

Gomer and Tara came to Canyon last Sunday to join in a live facebook event, and luckily I was unable to bypass my three Apple devices’ security filters to broadcast. We ended up with six delightful–to me, anyway–recordings that I was able to post later. Had it been live, considering the difficulties, it would have been worse than unwatchable. My hair was clean and fluffy, the weather sublime, Art’s wacky shack a perfect backdrop–plastic window and all. I was in fine voice, and did a song of Tara’s, sans bass, that I barely knew: Twilight Moonrise. She did Love of a Good Cat. Gomer was the grip and tech advisor, and positioned my iPhone behind the Woodstock wood stove, cutting off our legs. The quality of the iPhone 4 voice recording was astonishing.

check it out- Var Mints on facebook. I won’t go, but you can.

I don’t see any venues opening anytime soon. Even then, how will people react to a SINGER? Run in horror? Come at me with torches and pitchforks? Mask-shaming on facebook? Yes, I have seen it.

I can barely picture sitting in a window box, like at Giovanni’s, as customers drift by or stand on line to pick up to-go orders. Maybe a stage way at the back of an empty 30-foot patio? There are no festivals for the foreseeable, even outdoors. The sandwich board at Caffe Chiave still says “Live Music”, but it is only a shadow of the past. The Missouri Lounge is gone.

It is a New World.