Phrembah (a potato-like mystery) (phrembah) wrote,
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)

Frogs through a fog drearily . . .

Actually, Casey played most of the piano on our valiant Mad Dogs reenactment.  Like so many of those people, by the time he was nineteen he had fifteen years of music theory and piano technique under his belt--and thought nothing of it and didn't particularly enjoy it or use it for anything.  If you needed a piano played--and you asked him nicely--he'd play it for you, but he wasn't very likely to show up the next night and play it again.  We got his attention for two and a half weeks because his friends, the people he would have been hanging out with anyway, were involved.  Otherwise, he would have wandered off after the first rehearsal and we might not have seen him for a month.

And he was another one I never figured out.  I knew him because he was Gary's best friend and Gary was Greg's brother and Greg was Dean's half brother and Dean was my roommate for three semesters one time.  That is to say I barely knew him at all.  He was sitting at the piano one evening while a bunch of people were discussing the horn arrangement, something that didn't concern either of us.  He went through this elaborate ritual of examining the music that was there on the piano, moving  it further from then closer to his face, turning it over and over, holding a page in each hand and acting like he couldn't decide between the two.  Then he took a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses that I'd never seen out of the breast pocket of this antique corduroy sport jacket he had on and perched them on his nose.  No one but me was paying the slightest attention to him, but this whole ritual was like a performance piece or something.  I eventually laughed out loud and he looked up and said, "Shut up, Kirk," which knocked me on my ass because he said "shut up" like I'd revealed a secret or something and because it surprised the hell out of me that he knew my name.

I laughed again and said nothing else.  I'm pretty sure that was the only time we "spoke" during the entire project.
Tags: dream transcription

  • Shit is such . . .

    . . . that when it doesn't happen, it just happened. Shit that didn't happen is just a mirror image of the shit that did, or the shit that…

  • From intro to Scathing Atheist 409:

    "Hi, this is John Carter. I don't host a podcast. I don't have a book to sell. I didn't finish a degree in anything, and if I'm…

  • Actually . . .

    I think I have even less respect for turd worshipers than I have for the turds they worship. It's bad enough to be a narcicistic, infantile…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.