Talking with myself

Even though I get the numbers, and know people are reading my rants, it's weird because I still feel as if I am talking to myself. But I suppose if I was talking to myself live, and not on the page, people might worry. But I talk to my dog all the time, and even do his voice to answer myself back, so be afraid, be very afraid. 

Saturday was a joy filled day. I did an event at the Upland Library with the band Refrigerator. I can't describe their music well. It's too eclectic and defies genre. But they're frigging rad. I love the lead singer Allen's voice and their lyrics about the Inland Empire intersect nicely with my stories. Plus the rest of the band, Dennis (guitar), Mark (guitar), Daniel (stand up bass) and Chris (drums) just inspire me so. 

I met the band through Mark (of Pelekenesis) and Dennis (of Shrimper Records) who together own Bamboo Dart Press, who published my first book. They're both fabulous writers, and musicians, and they made my book dream true. I can't tell you how indebted to them I am. 

So Saturday defied my expectations. I always kick myself the day of an event. It's a lot at times. A lot of pressure. Why do I make my life hard and stress myself out? Why don't I just take it easy and play Yahtzee all day? I know the answer already, it's not in my nature. So I was there. The band was there. The plan was to have the band play a song, and then another song, then I would read a story, and then a couple more songs, then I would read another story, and so on. 

It was so amazing. The guys' songs were beautiful. They lingered in the air. Then I would read. It was pretty seamless. Then at the end, the band surprised me with a version of one of my social protest/justice poems in song form! I really can't capture it. I was just so overwhelmed with happiness. 

Joy is a hard thing to capture in words. Yet, I can say that when the band sang, I knew every word and sang along in my head. I was singing inside. My whole body was humming along. 

And when they played their song Colton, their words almost made me cry. Because who writes about Colton but us? Who else really and truly writes about and sees us Inland Empire grown up now but once latch key carrying kids from the 1970s and 1980s? 

We do. We write about it. Yes we do. 

"We can paint this town damn gray
We can count the ghosts on parade
We can hold our hands in the dark
Outside of Colton
Outside of Colton
Drunk and forgotten"

From Refrigerator's song Colton