This has been a busy weekend, what with balloon festivals, tango lessons, a milonga, a choreographer's showcase, a sushi raid, all sorts of stuff.
And then, Friday night, I snuck out of the Portland Ballet's "Portland Dances" choreographer's showcase, which was sad because there was some really good dancing going on - but good, because two of my friends I came there to see weren't in it - snuck out to attend the Portland appearance of the "Good Cheer Brigade", a honk band from Providence, RI, who were on their way to Machias for some kind of subversive event or other.
Ariel had heard about this and managed to get them to stop off on their way.
She is part of a twenty-something community here in town - not really college students per se, just folks that are around doing cool things and making stuff happen.
It's really funny to see the differences in approach to life in some people.
I saw a flyer on the board in Congo Square and so made a note on my iPod ("iPod, therefore i Am) to sneak out of the showcase and go hear these guys.
The house was one of those three-story multi-unit houses, right next to the railroad running through Woodford's Corner. There were a couple of guys from Esperanza there (with whom I'd done the Moxie parade last year) and we caught up while waiting for the band to beam in on their way to Machias.
Finally, comma, they rollled up about 30 minutes late. I parked myself on the living room floor on the second story. The windows were all closed, covered with either futons or thick wool tapestries of tigers. The furniture was all used (actually the owner came by, having moved out a year before and had quite an emotional reunion with the couch - it was quite touching and you wanted to kind of turn away).
There was a big-ass pirate flag on the wall over the couch. They need a velvet Elvis but it was all good.
It was neat to hang out with a group of people totally in the present. I don't hang out with twenty-somethings much, I don't know why, it just has worked out that way.
That may have to change.
So the band trooped upstairs - two tubas, two trumpets, three bones, an alto, two basses, a a triple-tenor player (with a spock added to the set so it was really quads) and a cymbal player.
The band basically sounds like the Dirty Dozen, a kind of balls-to-the-wall, take no prisoners attitude that I found very refreshing - especially in contrast to the ballet showcase I'd just come from.
This is not to denigrate "Portland Dances", of course - it just measures the distance of the differences between the two.
Let's face it - these are the mothers your band director warned you about. Come to the dark side, my children.
I did try to take some pix with my new phone but they just didn't come out.
I will finish with this - it was fun, and it was something terribly authentic and honest. I have a lot to think about because of this - and working in the Orchard will be part of it.
I'm posting a YouTube of the band - you have to imagine this level of mayhem - serious mayhem, bedlam, outright 'round the freakin' twist craziness - happening in the space about half the size of a Starbucks. Also, did I mention the twenty-five other sweaty people hopping up and down in the room?
(NOTE - must sent thank you note to building inspectors at City Hall.)
