So Friday night was the Young Artists Showcase, which I hosted, at the 7th Street and it was really good. Ray thinks it was the best ever. I started off totally nervous and freaking out and tweakery like always but soon warmed up a bit and even made some ad libs. Like when Shaylyn's shoe came off while she was dancing, she left the stage and I was like, "She danced her shoe off for you and that's the best you can do?"
The dance acts are always fun to watch, this year there was a 14-y-o named Spencer who did a hip-hop number to a medley called "Get Your Swag On," which I would like to link to some lyrics for but Ray told me he YouTube'd to see if it had any swears and heard the phrase "hos on my (you know what) like a health dept. condom," and since I already know all the words to "Get Low," I don't want a potentially dirtier song to replace its stature as "Song I know with the iffiest of morally redemptive quantities." It also brought up a fundamental question for me: Shouldn't those hos and the health department condom be simultaneously on the rapper's, uh, you know? Does he think rubbers are for fashion? Has the health dept. in his neck of the woods not been doing its job?
Fundamentally, however, I think it's just flabby lyrics that are the fault of the writer. And I'm worried I'm bringing down the town of my already not-high-toned blog with this information.
Anyway, Spencer was the big hit among the 13-15 y-o girls backstage. "I LOVE SPENCER," one breathlessly proclaimed to me while running down to see him. The feminazi in me wishes that boys would show the same amount of approval and validation to girls that is shown in the other direction, but instead they usually just lap up the attention.
The other backstage drama was the nonstop chatter. It was like Erika Wishnoff, who I went to elementary school with, was there with Sara Hutchinson or Greta Galuszka. Erika was seriously the Chatty Cathy of that triumvirate, the other two couldn't help but get sucked in even though Greta was a goody two shoes and Sara was introverted. Erika got told to be quiet more than anyone else I ever went to school with.
Let's see. There was also singing, which was all very good. If I were to pick out particularly poignant moments of singing, I would say there was Jordon, who Ray said was just good his first time at the showcase several years ago but has developed into a real artist since. I would also add Cora, who asked if I would tell the audience that she has a cold, but I said, I don't think they'll notice much. Well, she blew the roof off. There were also instrument-players, and I have to say, I was really impressed with Laurel's interpretation of a Chopin nocturne, even though Jonathan, who was also playing Chopin (and excellently), is the local pianist one thinks of when one thinks of Chopin. He did amazingly well, as he always does.
Anyway, Ray said he thought this year was as good as the showcase has ever been and he's worried it won't be as good next year. Well, maybe if you can actually line up Miss Grays Harbor it will suffer from not having my incisive intros, I told him.
So Saturday we headed to Tacoma to get my wedding dress! It fits great and looks really pretty and although for a minute I thought maybe I should have gone white or ivory so other women won't feel silly wearing blue, it suits me. The woman who helped me try it on wasn't the same cool chick who helped last time, but she managed to make it sound like she thought it was okay that I was getting married in a blue bridesmaid's dress anyway.
We went to Woody's on the Water for lunch, and because we're holding our rehearsal dinner there and thought we should at least eat at it once before committing to it body and soul (and because we hadn't had a contract faxed to us and thought we ought to just show up in person). It was yummy. You lucky bastards eating rehearsal dinner will love it.
We then headed to Nordstrom's to look for a tie to match the dress, but failed. The thing that was most surprising about the mall was that it was jam-packed with people. This is a scene from the recession? Where we're all supposed to be saving money? Ray theorized it was a pre-mother's day crowd.
Since we almost never go to a mall, and the one in Aberdeen is basically dead (I should do a podcast tour of it. Lots of "here is a closed storefront that now is a holding space for Sears riding lawnmowers" kinds of stuff in it), we decided to cruise the Tacoma mall. A quick jaunt up and back. Also that way I could get to drink my mocha from the Nordie's cafe (where they have Aphrodite-flavored Greek Gods yogurts! I ate one! It was vanilla with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla, it was delicious! Hermes is still my favorite, though at 250 calories or more per teensy cup I don't eat a whole lot of it.
So not a lot is different at the mall, but there is a new store we saw called "DA RELM." I feel like I should add a huge "SIC" next to it. That kind of combination of ghetto-styled spelling with its cheap, gothic-fonted sign, plus its customers, of whom there were more than 10 and all of whom seemed to know waaaay more than necessary about the kind of sword Aragon used in Lord of the Rings PLUS the two-bladed battle axes with spiked handguards PLUS the knives with built-in brass knuckles PLUS the plastic sculptures of dragons and wizards for sale at the other end of the store leads me to quote this Twitter Tweet from Drew Curry, who I did not know up until I Googled "Da Rel" Tacoma: "Next time your at the mall go to DA RELM hahahaha u will laugh your butt off."
Or maybe we should have registered there (sarcasm alert!).
Then we went to REI, which was packed. Apparently they are having a sale or something? Anyway, I was looking for travel shoes and a good travel purse for the honeymoon when I had a mini-decompensation attack and had to sit down. I overheard a sales person tell a customer that when REI built the Tacoma store they only anticipated 6,000 new members to join from it. Well, it was 30,000 in one year and now they realize they were thinking too small in the store. Well no kidding, I could have told you that with my first visit there six years ago, ding dongs. The Tacoma Ys are packed to the gills, we are not a lazy city! We are Seattle's suburbs! All our public trails and parks are VERY WELL USED and REI is like the unofficial religion of the unchurched nature lover that makes up 80 percent of the population of western Washington state. And of course they built in a lot they can't easily expand in or from.
Anyway, I did end up getting a purse identical to Beth's, with stainless steel mesh in the straps and bottom and a clipping zipper. She got it for her trip to Italy this December because of all the pickpocket warnings in the guidebooks. Do people still pickpocket? Seriously is it that much of a problem? The purse is so theft-proof I'm sure I'll end up forgetting it at some cafe or something. It's even the same color as Beth's. I was hoping for a less brown or black option, but in retrospect if I get tired of carrying it Ray won't feel too feminized if he has to tote the thing.
We then returned to the Harbor in a downpour that got so crazy near Ft. Lewis that we had to slow down to about 30 on I-5 and still couldn't see that well. Mom said Arkansas had some real bad rain and called it a "frog strangler," which I'm pretty sure is what my old boss John Hughes would have called the conditions on I-5.
When we got back we were starving, so we picked up a pizza from Casa Mia and cracked open a bottle of wine. Ray let his hair down and we polished the bottle off (anyone who knows Ray will know that his drinking three glasses of wine is !-worthy) then played banjo and clarinet duets while buzzed. No, that's not a euphamism for anything. We played "Spanish Eyes," "Banjo Polka" and a medley of "Red Wing" and "Put on Your Old Gray Bonnet." Then Ray, who has to transpose everything in his mind when he plays his B-flat instrument in C notation, busted out his clarinet book and, to prove that he doesn't stumble over accidentals, whipped like a pro through the most difficult song in the book, a Klezmer ditty (called "the Klezmer's Hora") that had all kinds of symbols in it I'd never even seen before. He did this while actually moving his head up and down and side to side, unleashing his inner gypsy. Three glasses of wine and in thirty minutes he's doing what his clarinet teacher had been after him to do for more than a year.
We think we should play a few banjo/clarinet duets at the rehearsal dinner, or outside before or after along the waterfront (I can prop my banjo case open like we're looking for donations), for our peeps, to show them how we're totally meant to be. Who's up for a little "Put On Your Old Gray Bonnet"?
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