Friday, August 12, 2005
Chitlin con carne
One memorable things about "The Office" is the now famous Brent dance, which he categories as "Flashdance fused with M.C. Hammer shit." There isn't a better description of what it is, which makes me think that my life is recently similar to that fusion.
Met this Brazilian hostess at Palena (which I've come to frequent a lot these days because my good friends Roger and Kate always return the favor of coming to see me play at Toulouse). To my surprise, she went to NMH and graduated in 2001. Can't believe it. The world is small. Of course we talked about our teachers, stuff that is nightmarish. She even shared a tale where she and her friend cruised on the Mount Hermon football field after dorm closing where they had to duck to avoid the flashlight from the security guards. In my time, no one had balls to cruise, let alone hide in the football field. She said she'd grown to love NMH, even though it's ex post facto.
Now I can sense that NMH bond so easily. When she told me she went to a boarding school in Massachusetts, I immediately knew she went to NMH. NMH people have the following in common: well-read, well-traveled, articulate, and speak English with a minimal accent. And when I told her I went to her alma mater, she said she could tell from the moment I spoke. I had a similar experience with a guy in Syracuse. He parked his car in front of this dinner on M Street and I saw his NMH sticker, and we chatted like we were old-timers, though he graduated some 15 years before me.
This week has been nothing but good to me. Tuesday I had the single most amazing conversation with a very special person at U-Topia (more about that later). Wednesday was my reunion with the incredible Band of Blue and Gene Meros and we played a kick-ass set together. And it wasn't loud. Thursday night I went to the pier in old town, Alexandria and started writing in my journal again, something I hadn't done since I came back from New Hampshire (which got me nostalgic too). And then the Palena incident...
All of the above leads me to wonder how my philosopher buddy JEFF CONLIN is doing. Jeff, if you're reading this, please leave a comment below to let me know you're alive. We at the Chitlin Circuit miss you.
Life is nothing but "flashdance fused with M.C. Hammer shit." Better yet, do what the Stephen Stills song suggests, "Love the one you're with."
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Met this Brazilian hostess at Palena (which I've come to frequent a lot these days because my good friends Roger and Kate always return the favor of coming to see me play at Toulouse). To my surprise, she went to NMH and graduated in 2001. Can't believe it. The world is small. Of course we talked about our teachers, stuff that is nightmarish. She even shared a tale where she and her friend cruised on the Mount Hermon football field after dorm closing where they had to duck to avoid the flashlight from the security guards. In my time, no one had balls to cruise, let alone hide in the football field. She said she'd grown to love NMH, even though it's ex post facto.
Now I can sense that NMH bond so easily. When she told me she went to a boarding school in Massachusetts, I immediately knew she went to NMH. NMH people have the following in common: well-read, well-traveled, articulate, and speak English with a minimal accent. And when I told her I went to her alma mater, she said she could tell from the moment I spoke. I had a similar experience with a guy in Syracuse. He parked his car in front of this dinner on M Street and I saw his NMH sticker, and we chatted like we were old-timers, though he graduated some 15 years before me.
This week has been nothing but good to me. Tuesday I had the single most amazing conversation with a very special person at U-Topia (more about that later). Wednesday was my reunion with the incredible Band of Blue and Gene Meros and we played a kick-ass set together. And it wasn't loud. Thursday night I went to the pier in old town, Alexandria and started writing in my journal again, something I hadn't done since I came back from New Hampshire (which got me nostalgic too). And then the Palena incident...
All of the above leads me to wonder how my philosopher buddy JEFF CONLIN is doing. Jeff, if you're reading this, please leave a comment below to let me know you're alive. We at the Chitlin Circuit miss you.
Life is nothing but "flashdance fused with M.C. Hammer shit." Better yet, do what the Stephen Stills song suggests, "Love the one you're with."
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