Friday, April 17, 2009

My Old Lady's Into Malsteem

Whether I’m playing to sugar- drenched 5 year olds or drunken 22 year olds, I’ve had my fill of talking about rock and bullshit after playing shows. Not drinking may have something to do with this. I now prefer to stay on stage and perform roadie duties. It gives me something to do and keeps me away from crazy-ass toddlers or drunken EL Rio live Karaoke singers who want to talk song selection or want to sing just…one…more…song.

Many, many years ago at the I-Beam in Haight a normal looking guy, slightly overweight with a flannel, came up to me after we played and said, “You know, my old lady plays a little guitar. She’s into Malsteem.” How do you respond to something like that without sounding like a dick? It’s almost impossible. The obvious response is, “Who the fucks cares?” But years and years of a polite Pleasanton upbringing renders me incapable of such a response (In print, yes; in real life, no). I don’t remember how I responded but I’m sure I said one of 3 things: “Oh, really, that’s cool,” “My old lady is into Satriani” or “Yes, I hear he’s very proficient on his axe.” And then I walk to bathroom. Having to go to the bathroom is great way to get out of any conversation. Take note, people.

That same night, an energetic, skinny guy, who looked a little out of place, approached me and earnestly said, “You know, New Kids on the Block are good dancers.” I had no idea what he was talking about, and then it clicked - I was wearing a NKOTB shirt. In one sense, it was extremely sweet that he thought there was no irony to my shirt and that I actually liked NKOTB. Explaining irony is pointless and only makes you look stupid – you either get it or don’t. And it was even sweeter that he found something good about NKTOB to approach me with. I had to be nice - he had me. “Yeah, they are good dancers, “ I responded, with a half smile across my face. I almost wanted to hug the skinny guy and take him home.

And then I went to the bathroom again.

1 comment:

  1. this one is going into my back pocket.

    “Oh, really, that’s cool,” “My old lady is into Satriani”