my show in providence went pretty ok. i didn’t, as i had anticipated
earlier, end up giving a presentation at megumi’s electronic music class
earlier in the day, but that’s kind of good, as i was working on shit
until seriously the eleventh hour. the show itself was primarily kids from
new orleans who are on tour reading zines, but there was also poetry,
beatboxing (!), and three really good rock bands, on two stages. it was
nice– i could decide if i wanted to be grouped with the readers or the
rockers. i chose, for the night, the readers. i played some nice,
background-y stuff i had been working on, and read some pieces. anyway
that’s what i planned to do, until 10 of 2 the night before the show,
when, with a racing mind, i wrote all new material. i was thinking about
the nice boys who live at the sickle (the warehouse space under the
bakery) and how with the exception of dan l, hamish and jack, i didn’t
know thier names. so i concocted two good ruses to figure them out. one,
i’d be in conversation with them and i’d rope some dope in (say, nicky
revs) and say (to the sickler) “oh hey, this is my friend nicky revs” and
he’d say “oh hey, i’m [x].”. this remains a solid plan. slightly more
ornate is to address them by another name, something possible but
unlikely, like horace, or emmanual, or gilbert– they, of course, would
say, “my name’s not yancy (or whatever), it’s [x].”. i’d be like “yeah, i
know, i’m just fucking with you.” and case closed. however, this quickly
got more convoluted, to the point where they had occupations as well–
“hey, clement– you still sculpting doll arms?”. then the occupations got
convoluted and delicate, so convoluted and delicate that i was loathe to
assign them to anyone else, and soon the idea was just me introducing
myself– “hey, i’m jacob berendes– i volunteer at a company that restores
turn-of the century calliopes.”. of course this act was the gates
being flung
wide, and soon i was writing writing writing great occupational lies to
tell, then i said (at 4) aw fuck it, and that became my show. i played
the
backgroundy music i had worked out, and i told hilarious lies about
myself, including (but not limited to): “i am an apprentice cricket
breeder”, “i work at the second largest hello kitty distributor in the
country”, and “i animate flash for a japanese soda company”. all in all
i’d say it went pretty good. plus i set up the “distro all
monsters” table, and it was a five dollar success. i had additional plans
to auction off some of my signature banana bread (the
jpbsbb). unfortunately, while i was making it earlier that night i noticed
the tiny blade of the handmixer had disappeared and i could only fear the
worst (remembering roger kaputnik and the doctor’s lost watch). eh!
