November 12th, 2005.

Connecticut is endeavouring to make up for the drive with being obstinately beautiful at us. The skies of cleared to a shock blue that vibrates the oranges and yellows and flames of the trees. I think that that’s maybe why so many animals are colour-blind… lest they be overwhelmed by the glory around them and stand stock still till a predator can tear its eyes off the skies.

Mike makes very cool collages of comic books and sundry randomness - I spent a lot of time admiring his busy compositions and the sheer... awesomenewss of them. Good to see art not being artsy, if that makes sense to anyone else.
Mike makes very cool collages of comic books and sundry randomness – I spent a lot of time admiring his busy compositions and the sheer… awesomenewss of them. Good to see art not being artsy, if that makes sense to anyone else.
The sunshafted scene over the Mansfield Hollow Resevoir in Mansfield, CT.
The sunshafted scene over the Mansfield Hollow Resevoir in Mansfield, CT.

I’m remembering the last time we were up there – Sharif and Jason were travelling with us then. It’s a shame they can’t see New England the way it stands now. Connecticut really is meant to be seen this way, from the highway, through the hills. Friday morning, after waking up at Mike and Ari’s (we met them the previous night, doing one of our “we’ve been doing this for two years and usually we’ve got this sort of thing all worked out, but… can anyone put us up for the night?” speaches from the stage – driving all the way back to Mike’s in Hartland was a painful prospect) we got out on the road and took a long, long leisurely, leisurely drive out to Bristol to play another open mic.

The drive itself was fantastic. We stopped on the way at a park at the Mansfield Hollow Resevoir and took a nap in the car as the sun rose around us and the car warmed and the wind howled. We did some mall hopping and Best Buy wandering and tree admiring and sight-seeing and still ended up in Bristol hours before the open mic started. We eventually found ourselves a Panera and sat with their wireless for a while and killed time. Not enough time. We showed up at the New Downtown Cafe a half-hour early (hey, you never know when one of these might have a list that just fills up crazy fast) and then found out that it doesn’t get started for another hour and a half PAST the time the woman on the phone told us.

Made me want to cry. “Do you serve food?” “Nope.” Long wait. I helped the host move speakers around to pass the time. Heather went back out and got her laptop. I lamented my fate.\

So, Bristol – I think Bristol might be crossed off my list. It was sort of a sad night. Heather and I were still recovering our voices, and I fear I was a little squeaky and disoriented. The only plus of the night was a group of middle-school teachers who’d gone out on a dare and were going to perform… well… nothing. They didn’t have a plan at all. One had a keyboard and the other had that percussion thingie that sounds like a sausage… a kielbasa? Heather sang “Open Arms” with them and they actually sounded pretty good together, but I was distracted by the horrible realization that I had absolutely no capacity for talking to hot, hot middle school teachers.

Ah, dangerous middle school teachers on the loose. On a dare they're playing a local open mic in Bristol, CT - unfortunately, they encountered one of the parents of one of their students at the bar.
Ah, dangerous middle school teachers on the loose. On a dare they’re playing a local open mic in Bristol, CT – unfortunately, they encountered one of the parents of one of their students at the bar.
Heather gets some good shots of trees as we pass them at around 60mph in Connecticut.
Heather gets some good shots of trees as we pass them at around 60mph in Connecticut.

It’s very sad. She was Lovely. Couldn’t play… er… kielbasa… but… maybe Bristol’s not QUITE off the list.

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