August 5th, 2004.

We just got back from the Soap Box Laundro Bar. A very cool place, I am smitten, though not with the venue. Great art on the walls, God awful sound system (I had to wire in my amplifier to get enough inputs for Heather and I), and fascinating stories. I must admit, after all of the hype, I was dissappointed that the open mic itself wasn’t more fleshed out with other performers, and that the audience wasn’t more attentive, but the people who WERE there for the music seemed to really like us.

I was really surprised by the calibre of the art, however. Some really amazing works, especially upstairs. I walked out to get the car, and while I was being waylaid in conversation with a Lovely artist in the Wilmington streets, Heather had befriended Mack, the night manager and maintenance guy. He unlocked the elevator and led us through the upper story. An amazing space, and what looks to be an amazing sound system. God, if and when we ever become big rockstars, I hope we can come back and play there. He showed us how they have a big arch window behind the bar, they can draw back the curtains and show the storms coming in off the water – amazing view.

We swapped stories for a while before making it out – it was funny… I ended up feeling dizzyish because we kept wandering in and out of the bar.

Very cool space – talking to the owner, Brent, he seemed to think it was perfectly normal to own an art gallery/music venue/laundromat/pool hall. And after having encountered this rare combination, I DO wish MORE people thought like him.

Ferocious rain. We didn't QUITE have to bail water out of the boat. BTW - her name is "Just One More". Like everything with Deanne, of COURSE there's a story behind that.
Ferocious rain. We didn’t QUITE have to bail water out of the boat. BTW – her name is “Just One More”. Like everything with Deanne, of COURSE there’s a story behind that.
On the way back, we encountered a pretty rough storm. It sucks when you realize your pilot and captain is steering you into the darkness ahead.
On the way back, we encountered a pretty rough storm. It sucks when you realize your pilot and captain is steering you into the darkness ahead.

Ah, after the open mic, I get to return to leftovers. I’ll have to devote ANOTHER entry to Deanne’s cooking. I want to stay and grow rotund.


Mornings here, though, are very Southern. Though I guess I have no right to complain, as when I say “morning”, I AM referring to a noon-ish time. But it reminds me of when Audrey and I were together, and for some reason her parents’ house would erupt into a festival of Alabaman accents at around 9am, and SO much laughter. There are definitely worse ways to wake up though – I need to patent the laughing alarm clock. It would wake you with sounds of lots of people having a REALLY good time in the next room. It would make you WANT to get up, just to see what’s going on.

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