It’s my birthday!
I was woken up by a yummy Mrs. Winners Chicken Biscuit and some sweet, cold lemonade. Just proof that even fast food tastes better on vacation. I took this relaxing moment to remind myself—as well as Jacque and Nina—that at 2:15 or so in the morning, I had announced that I would quit smoking. Or at the very least, not smoke anymore on this trip. I figured the symbolism of trying to get healthy on my birthday would be enough to see me thru the challenge. And it worked. At least until I got home to New Jersey, but for now … it worked. I was going to be smoke and drink free for my birthday and damned proud of it.
The Earl has a brunch-type celebration every Sunday, same as most restaurants. The difference here is they call it ‘Dunch’ and there is live music to entertain the hungry, hung over masses. The band playing was Jupiter Watts and their sound, though stripped down just a little, was perfect for this setting. Walking up to the bar, I noticed Jen with a oddly cake-shaped package. I was not supposed to know what it was so I’ll assume it was a new hat of some sort. This pretending went on thru the course of our Dunch. I ordered the Mother and Child Reunion. An egg and chicken dish that didn’t really knock my socks off.
Then … noise makers blaring, a cake with nine candles and a room full of people singing. Even though I was not really surprised to see that the hat in that bag turned out to be a cake, I was beyond delighted. My new group of friends made my birthday truly special. In retrospect, Jacque’s questions about what kind of cake I liked the night before were quite telling. I teased her about that and we were laughing when I noticed total strangers smiling and pointing at me. It turned out that Jupiter Watts were, in their own ethereal style, singing happy birthday to me. My face froze into a perpetual smile for the rest of the day. I gave them the rest of the cake as I left.
Jacque and I got lunch later in the day at Village Pizza (186 Carroll St) in an area called Cabbage Town. There are several explanations about the origins of the name of the area which was an artist’s community in the late 1980s. Like most other cities, it has become a hip place to live and eat today. Village Pizza is a place that defines the area in a way with its cheap food in an old industrial setting with accents of clean, blonde wood fixtures and antique furniture and whatnot accented by the art on the walls. Oh and the pizza was pretty decent thick-crust, gourmet fare. Thankfully not an attempt at NY style thin crust. I’ve had that in the south; it’s usually a bad thing.
Tonight’s musical entertainment was at 11:11 Teahouse (753 Edgewood Ave, NE). Now I’m used to shows at small, intimate cafes such as this. You grab a refreshing ho or cold beverage, find a comfy couch or chair to lounge back in and listen to some soft, acoustic music. Not here. Here you get the added feature of full-volume bands not holding anything back. The juxtaposition of that and this quaint tea house with more teas than all the tea in China looking like it should be someone’s vacation home on a lake somewhere was fascinating to me. It has a patio out in front of the one and a half glass walls. In back was a rustic sitting area with an old gazebo look backed by a colorful wall mural of woodland creatures. There I was greeted by a friendly orange cat.
Out in front again, I was met by a cute, scruffy mutt of a dog. I think he belonged to one of the bands, but I never found out. He was very upbeat and friendly and kinda liked like a stuffed animal. I had a great conversation with Tim (bassist for Tenth to the Moon) about our mutual fascination with processes and an addiction to documentaries. We also talked to Michelle of Yum Yum Tree about vintage keyboards. Michelle and I reminisced about the origins of MIDI. I was transported way back to the publishing of the first MIFDI specs in 1984 where only a handful of the 126 controllers were actually being utilized. You see, it’s this kind of stuff that thrills we the geeky musician types.
The first performers up were Chickens and Pigs. As we were waiting for the night to get going, singer and guitarist—and all around great guy—Jeff Evans handed me a piece of paper. He said, “Since it’s your birthday, you get to sing this verse.” to which I said, “I’m invoking my birthday privilege and not singing at all. Believe me it’s best for everyone.” We had a good laugh. Part of the way thru the loose bluesy, rock set of Chickens and Pigs, Jeff announces that it’s my birthday, points me out in the crowd and says, “This one’s for you Stephen. It’s called Old People.” The song’s chorus made me feel good … “Old people ain’t as old as they used to be!”
On one of my trips back outside, I was very happy to see my new friend Monica (aka Nerdkween). We were discussing the sound of Batata Doce which I kept incorrectly describing as Latin rock. That wasn’t at all what I meant. What we decided was their sound was more of a Southwestern rock. It had some Latin, country and rock all mixed together. After this conclusion, Monica surprised me with a very special birthday gift. She handed me two CDs, one of which was of rough tracks from an upcoming recording. I was so happy and I know I’ll like it. For now it was time to catch Tenth to the Moon.
I didn’t know what to expect other than seeing the vintage keyboard setup. Well, once the show started, my jaw dropped. The avant garde insanity of volume and vision gave birth to theatrics that were as insane as the sound and I was riveted. In the end the singer was painted red and grabbed me to move me out of the way so he could flail around and outside of this tiny teahouse. My final reaction was simply, “wow!” I was happy to hear the paint on my shirt was water based. Talking with the band afterwards was refreshingly easy and friendly. I suppose any angst they may have had were properly exorcised.
Last up tonight was Untied States (whose name I had been reading wrong all night). They are another band here in Atlanta who is playing with sound and structure. Uniquely syncopated bass, guitar and emotionally charged vocals meshed with odd electronic noises play over tribal-esque beats. I got to meet drummer Erin and singer Colin a couple of nights before and tonight I met Erin’s parents who drove up from Mobile. This was their first time seeing Erin perform with the band. When I told her mom that I was from Hoboken, she smiled. Apparently she had worked for many years as a teacher in Jersey City. Erin’s Dad is originally from Queens. I love how small our world can be.
A few last words with Erin and her rightfully proud parents—I have a very cute photo of her dad beaming as he watched her play—it was time to go home. I said goodbye to Penny, the owner of 11:11 Teahouse. I told her how much I loved the juxtaposition of such loud music in such a serene setting. Most of all I respected her desire to have a cool place where people can come, have some tea, bring your own booze if you prefer and get exposed to new music. It’s people like Penny and just about everyone I’ve met here on my trip that continue to give me faith, not only in music, but in humanity.
We had gotten word that Nina—who had already left earlier in the evening for NYC—was home safe. It was time for bed now.
