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I’m sitting at the same Starbucks as when I wrote that other post when I was killing time before Voglie’s and that Polar Ice Promo. This is basically for my information, but if y’all want to come check me out, Statlers has Open Mics on Wednesdays and a special Open Mic on August 1st I think. Shit, that’s not good! I should know the date of this thing! I got distracted by the cute barissta. Damn him and his good looks. Another thing to damn would be my brother’s restaurant. The guy that hires the pianists is on vacation for 3 weeks. I’m not out of the running or anything, I’m just going to have to be patient. Deep breaths!
This Passion Sweetened Iced Tea is great! Maybe I’ll go check out what goes down at Statlers to get a feel for what it would be like. Although it is full of old gays… Whatever. I’ll have to perform in front of them, what’s the harm in sitting with them? Guess I should pose that question Carrie Bradshaw style: What IS the harm in sitting with a bunch of old guys? Where does this stigma come from? Is it the same when it is an old guy with a group of young men? How did we get so old? How did we get so cold? (Thought I’d toss in a little Chantal Kreviazuk there).
I must admit that I feel a little pathetic but also liberated in doing these things alone. All of my friends are working, studying and then writing a mid-term, going on vacation somewhere, or not in Toronto today. It takes guts to go out somewhere alone. Guts that I own. I also did this in Winnipeg and it was perfectly fine. Suppose it could be worse. I could have no friends at all. How much would that suck? I’d be like Carrie in Paris, only without a fancy artist boyfriend to wake up to and eventually leave. I cringed each time she spoke French. “Bonjour” sounded like “Bonjewer”. Ewww. Now all that’s left is to see the movie and I can say that I’ve watched all of Sex And The City. I have no life apparently.
Hey, the weird green sexualized Bob Marley painting from last time is gone! Now there are 3 closeups of bees and flowers. That’s also sexual… Why is everything in this gay Starbucks so sexualized? The obvious answer would be that the LGBT community is a tad more obesssed with sex than their hetero counterparts. Or maybe it is what it is: three close-up shots of bees doing what they do best. When I have time to sit and think, sometimes I over-analyze. Can you blame me?
Now what to do… write lyrics, or go watch a performance? I think I’ll choose the latter for now and come back to Starbucks later to write some lyrics before going to The Swearing Jar. I suppose dinner should be in there somewhere too. I’ll play it by ear.
I discovered something about the first batch of lyrics I wrote: they’re too wordy. I’m keeping that in mind as I write. Time to check out Statlers.
The Open Mics are on Wednesday like I mentioned earlier in the post, and if I’m good enough, I might be given a paying gig. Wouldn’t that be sweet?! I made friends with the owner, a guy named Ricky Martin who is a painter, and the pianist that was performing there at the time. He even let me perform a song. I chose a jazz rendition of Boz Scaggs’ “We’re All Alone”. It went alright. I shouldn’t of had that rum and coke before going on stage because I lost a bit of co-ordination and the first verse when I sang it. Oh well, I got some clapping anyway and the owner seemed impressed. I’m going to knock their socks off next Wednesday! Now I’m eating a satisfactory lemon poppyseed loaf and laughing at the gay barristas singing along to “Time After Time” and talking about the True Colours tour and Margaret Cho’s Asian Chicken Salad. I’m glad I went out today. I am fabulous. I’m a little full of myself.
Washroom break and then lyric writing. Before I start writing, I just want to say that the Starbucks Chai Tea Latte is amazing as is. No need for sweetening. Just lovely latte-ness. Okay, lyric writing time.
Argh, I can’t do it! I’m going to read fab magazine instead. The cover asks, “Still Proud?” My answer is “Yes”. Although I must admit that what Pride used to be has evolved into something involving a lot of body glitter and water guns used in suggestive ways. The Editor’s Letter in this issue talks about how Pride is now all encompassing and the gays feel that their work is done because being gay is generally accepted, but that isn’t so. I can think of one personal example that a gay man is not accepted. The guy I went out on one date with isn’t out to his parents, and maybe he never will be. The reason for this is a mixture of fear and his family business, I think. Yes, we have come a long way, but we still have a ways to go. That was not a compelling argument at all. I felt like writing about something. Grabbing another chai latte.
Sometimes I want to forgo the whole gerontology thing and just start my recording career in Canada, Japan, or anywhere. Would I really be ready for that? I could just start my career sans safety net and go from there. I think I’m ready for that. I feel ready. I can write melodies, but I’m not much of a lyricist to be honest. Everything else I can do, just not lyrics. That would work really well in a foreign country. I’m starting to make connections with people, so who knows where things will go from here.
I don’t want to be a gerontologist. I want to be a star. I’ve got talent, I’m working on my looks (hooray for antibiotics and working out) and I am more than willing to work hard. I’m going to get there somehow and I will be very happy because I will finally be doing what I love: performing for others. I have loved doing that since I was a child. Why not do it professionally? Why not get a degree or diploma in music like I’ve always wanted? I know that I’ll have to go back and get lessons to improve my technique, but I am so willing to do that. Screw safety nets! I want to do what I love, regardless of whether it is logical or not. The thought of taking lessons while pursuing my Gerontology degree did occur to me, but I really want to focus all of my time and energy on this. I want to treat it like it’s a job and learn, practice, play with other musicians. I want to fully immerse myself into the world of music instead of dipping my toes in it for 3 years. That will not be as effective as a full submersion into the business.
This is the same problem I had with social work: I like Gerontology, but it is seriously a means to an end for me. I just want a degree so I can finally do what I love with no consequences. Maybe I can get back into Windsor and just get a general BA? Something to think about. I really need to discuss this with Mom and Dad (see that? I didn’t call them my parental units for once). They are going to be pretty angry I’ll bet. But I know we can talk about it. They read this blog anyway (Hi you guys! Love you!). Enough about this topic.
Tee hee, I’ve been checked out by 2 attractive guys sitting at tables across from me since I started the music career rant. I love the Village. I feel so comfortable here. … I want to talk to my parents about this right now. About my music career, not about the guys checking me out. My parents and I aren’t like the Gilmore Girls. Although we do have witty, fast-paced dialogue, I don’t talk to them about my sex life. I save that for myself and my friends.
Life is good. This moment is great. It’s going to get complicated from here, but things are going to turn out fine. I know. Time to call the parents and have a little discussion to kill time.
I talked about it a little with Mom and she agrees with me. Tomorrow I will call piano and vocal teachers for lessons. I also gave a guy my number at the Starbucks. I wrote, “My name is Edward and if you’re free and want to go out for coffee, my number is…”, smiled at him as I dropped it off at his table and then ran. In retrospect, I should of talked to him and made a few witty jokes, but I had to run and catch the play. Should of told him that, but too late for that now. Meh, if he calls, great. If not, I’m sure I’ll see him at some point. No skin off my back either way.
Speaking of theatre, Ricky Martin told me that Mondays at Statlers are when all the theatre buffs come out and have singalongs. I’ll have to go to one of those for sure at some point. Oh, I’m excited for this hour-long play. It should be good, it is a part of the Best of The Fringe Festival after all. I’ll write about it as soon as it is finished.
I learned something tonight: never rely on rush seating. On the plus side, I bought a ticket to a hilarious one woman show on August 15 called “Alana Johnston The Show (cute or what?)” Show starts at 8 PM. She showed me a little sample of the songs from her show and it is pretty funny. She told me that when my demo gets made, she would like a copy. There’s a bunch of people at that theatre that must have connections, so it’s nice to have a foot in the door. All the more reason to get in the studio.
Now for a long subway ride back home. Overall, it was a nice relaxing day. When I get home, I’m going to discuss my future with my parents. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!
My Mom agrees with me, but she still wants me to have a degree of sorts. She knows that one day I will become a performance artist and that will be the end of that. She just wants to make sure I have something to fall back on (hence the degree) in case something goes wrong. At least she’s in my corner. That wasn’t too exciting, was it.
Closing thought: Bailey’s and Golden Oreo Cookies are delectable.