henrietta's . random musings on death and music

i'm trying to imagine what it's like to be dead. 
everybody dies, but nobody can tell you what it's like. not with any credibility anyway. 
sometimes i am struck by how it lurks at every corner, all of the dangerous things we do everyday--cars, planes, psychotic co-workers, stoves… we are so fragile, what 
can't kill you?

um… anyway… we are two days into what is turning into a rather amusing trip. 
karmen and i left charlottesville on tuesday and drove for to new york city, listening to tori, ani, peter griesar's highly inspired 
'disposable love songs' and ivy's 'apartment life'. we discussed tori amos' increasingly vague and ambiguous lyrics (is it a defense mechanism?), ani difranco's lack of sublety, and 'why does peter want to be a guitar rock god?' 
this computer is infecting your brain.

karmen had never been to new york before and she was thrilled when we spotted the statue of liberty from our spot in line for the jersey turnpike tollbooth.

on wednesday we walked. we went to macy's and bought make-up. we went to the museum of modern art to look for blasco but he wasn't working, and they were closed for a private party. we went to angelica's kitchen and ate vegan food next to adam yauch, the buddhist beastie boy. 
and finally, around 5pm, made our way to the gig for the night--at 
henrietta hudson, a lesbian bar that david lowery told me i should play at.

so we walk in and there is LP, singer for the band lionfish, opening the bar. from hearing her sing, i had pictured her differently, but she was more like iggy pop than joan osborne. quite an animated charachter; i immediately liked her. 
however, within minutes of our conversation it became apparent that there was no PA in the bar, and no one had made any arrangements for one. karmen and i had a tiny amp, one mic, one cable and two guitars. and the show was supposed to start at 8pm. thus began four hours of utter discomfort. LP made a frantic last minute attempt to find a PA, but became increasingly defensive about the whole issue--is was not her responsiblity, she just bartends there, she never said that she would get us a PA. 
the woman who booked us was nowhere to be found. 
so, as a solution, LP offered us her fender reverb guitar amp to sing through--provided we go to her 5 story walk up apartment and get it, and buy an adaptor for the mic cable. cool. but we still didn't have a mic 
why am i going on like this? what is the lesson boys and girls? 
i don't know. 
but do you want to know how it ended up? 
well, after our friend steve koester was nice enough to lend us a mic stand (and listen to me bitch in the car all the way to his practice space to pick it up), the gig was a lot of fun. 
karmen didn't have such good time, unfortunately, but she still sounded good. 
my friend gary used his show biz sense to fix our lighting situation, and steve helped us keep the vocal amp from feeding back. the people who came to see me play were familiar faces from my 
living room gigs, except for derek, where were you derek? 
and to the guy who sat right in front and taped the show, if you're reading this--can i have a copy? i'm not mad, i just want to hear it!

Lauren Hoffmanfromthebluehouse