Secession

"...I believe it was people like them our Saviour bore in mind when He said, Unless ye become as little children. He was thinking of people who are not clever in the things of this world, whose minds are not upon gain and worldly advancement. These poor Christians are not thrifty like our country people at home; they have no veneration for property, no sense of material values."

-- Father Vaillant, in Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop

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Went south: Broke onstage today, a few chuckles and a smile, during the part where I say, "You are the only woman I could ever wish to be my wife." Marriage, or at least the wedding, should be a generally happy affair, and perhaps a funny one, too. Thing is, it read like I was playing a practical joke on the poor girl. I hope no children left with the impression that marriage is a practical joke. I hope they were thinking, Boy, those Indians sure were happy people.

Two shows done today, in the morning and afternoon. We snagged lunch at an equestrian-themed bar called Harry's, a place which feels more like an Elk's Lodge than a restaurant. There were jockey tops (horse riders, not underpants) and horsewhips under glass, and dammit, I want to know why.

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Last night, at house supper, I came up with a nice pun. The other Filipina in the house had just asked me what rice I prefer, whether I'm a basmati or jasmine man, and I replied:

"I do not discriminate based on rice."

Laughter ensued, so I followed up: "I'm an equal-opportunity rice consumer."

Boom-diggity.

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Now I'm at UK in Lexington, in the famous campus library, the giant sprawling spire that rises above the trees and parking garages. The last time I was here, I was nudged out almost as soon as I came in the door, but this time I find to be more welcoming: The computers, for instance, are first-come-first-served to anyone, students and non-students, regardless of who you are. I am no one and everyone and myself...(together, now) all at the very same time.

I'm killing time until Tory sings tonight at the Common Grounds Coffee House. It been too long, yo.

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Bought Slings & Arrows on Friday, my work's real reward, an outrageous fortune in itself. Ask me if it was worth it.

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After our show at one, as we were backstage, piling props into crates and laughing about laughing, the principal and four kids came to us with water. "Thank you for coming to our school," they said, shyly offering the custom-made bottles like libations. We were grateful, and they were cute.

Tomorrow begins a three-day overnight tour, a stretch of the sort of travels Jackson Browne or Bob Seger sang about. Long, lonesome highways, folding chairs, and lifting amps.

And no kidding around.