Negative capability

This shirt seems to be the height of "à la mode" in Iron Harbor this summer. Saturday night I was out with friends, and received FOUR independent and UNSOLICITED compliments about it: "Oh, that's a nice shirt you're wearing." By the fourth comment, it became slightly unsettling. I began to wonder if people were being ironic, or perhaps that by offering praise for this particular shirt they were actually condemning all the unfashionable, boring, poorly fitted and heavily stained shirts that I habitually wear on most other occasions. People don't usually comment on what I'm wearing. I'm not a particular fan of the fashion mags, so it's odd for me to be singled out as a fashion plate.

Admittedly, I had wanted to be in the "casual dressy" style, because earlier on Saturday evening I'd been to a chamber music concert which was part of the PMMF series. The Bergonzi String Quartet (from south Florida) played Mozart, Ravel, and several pieces by the engaging second violinist Scott Flavin. Very engaging - and the strong playing of the ensemble was enhanced by the excellent acoustic of the Reynolds recital hall on campus. The PMMF is in financial difficulties - in part due to the economic downturn and the ensuing decline in corporate sponsorships. There have been rumblings that this may be the last year of the festival. Maybe it would be more successful if there was more "fest" in the "festival." By that I mean that often there doesn't feel as if there is any connecting thread between the concerts - or any real sense of celebration. Why can't we have wine and hors d'oeuvres at intermission - or maybe after the concert? (At least they should get some flowers for the lobby, IMHO.)

Anyhow, after the concert I headed out (without changing) for the night scene. First at Terry's, then at the Down Front Club. We were a big group: Rob and his friend Joan, Rikki, Nashini, DD, Archie, Lara from Boston, Brett and Michael, Pink and Michelle. It's good that we stayed away from the Wine Bar - Rob was a lot more comfortable without running into Erik. Also, I had told him to drink a glass of milk before coming out - it seemed to help keep him in line later in the evening, and he had none of his usual "seediness" on the day-after. It was fun to be in the midst of so many Bright Young Things. They really do come out of the woods on the weekends - who knows where they hide themselves during the week! But I think that the Down Front Club must be owned by a hearing aid manufacturer: they seem determined to induce hearing loss in all their patrons.

Ten years of the GGG! Last night we had a little celebration to mark a decade of our "social gathering," held as always high above Iron Harbor on the top floor of the hotel. Appropriately, Eddie Thunder (who started the ball rolling in early 1998) came back from Chicago for the event, and Jimmy the Greek and myself served as local co-ordinators. We had a good turnout, even though many of the participants in the first years didn't come out from their various nests. Some people have just become such homebodies! Johnnie, Penny, Eddie Thunder, Lee T., Jimmy the Greek, Yooperprof, Tan Guy, Archie, & Brute. Blade & Mac Melanie and Jack Marnie and Sara Lee Tan Guy & Erik with a K

Indeed. Yesterday was kind of long – the last flight of my return journey, Detroit to Iron Harbor, was delayed three hours due to freezing rain and a flat tire (!). I had a full twenty-four hours of traveling. But my luggage and I made it back without any additional wear and tear – not evident wear and tear, anyway. What’s in my suitcase this morning? Some dirty clothes, several new Scanihoovian CDs, and a jumble of new Norwegian memories. Memories especially of diverse and interesting conversations with friends, aquaintances and strangers. But I purchased no gifts on this trip: no trolls, no glasswear, no semi-kitschy sweaters. Sorry family and friends: the dollar’s in the toilet and so you’ll all be getting schlock made in China this year. (Don’t eat the lead paint.)

These discs supplement my growing collection of Musica Nordica:
a) the latest release of the Sami songstress Mari Boine
b) “The Last Resort,” a 2006 collection from Danish electronica groover Trentemøller
c) a newish CD, unavailable in the US, called “ER” by the Norwegian trumpeter Nils Petter Molvær



Those conversations: I have the most interesting discussions when I’m in Norway. Among the topics of discourse over the last few days: Universal Sign Language for the Deaf; the United Nations mission in Bosnia; Oslo real estate prices; the relative merits of Belgian vs. English beer; and the novels of Haruki Murakami.

I enjoyed my forays into Oslo’s night scene. Of course, I’ll have to sell one of my kidneys to pay for my bar tab – if they are still worth anything after this last weekend. Osloians release their Protestant inhibitions in those hours after midnight. (Me too?) Some of the scenes I witnessed in the wee hours might have been stolen from a Charles Bukowski novel; others were positively Fitzgeraldian (F. Scott, that is.) Oslo seems to have plenty of Gatsby’s these days, and they aren’t shy about flashing their “loadsamoney” around.

I particularly remember one enthusiastic Norske gentleman I met after midnight. He was celebrating something; I couldn’t discover what. But he was very generous – when he discovered that I was a “visiting American all alone in the big city,” he bought me two Mojitos and a “Brazilian bomb”. And I was certainly not the only recipient of his largesse. He purchased ten (10) whiskey and soda drinks, paid for them in cash (!), and had them all laid out in front of him. His plan was to give them out, one at a time, to attractive females as they passed by. In all my days of playing Barfly, I’d never witnessed such a ploy, so it was sociologically quite interesting. Oddly enough, some of the women to whom he offered the drinks refused them; as if there was some kind of catch involved. But my friend was undaunted; he didn’t take rejection easily. Unfortunately, I left after he gave away his third drink, so I didn’t get to see how the experiment worked out.

Last night I had an unusually full social card:

A) the art community benefit auction at the Masonic hall (no purchases for me this year, I'm saving my pennies so I can buy beer in Norway.)

B) a drinks party at M & B's with Eddie Thunder, Jimmy the Greek, Archie and Penny

C) the Ten O'Clock Charlie's reunion party - in the Rosewood ballroom

D) and finally "Steppin' in It" also at the Rosewood, in the bar

What a time warp to hear Fast Eddie playing at the Charlie's bash. I swear that guy is the Dorian Gray of harmonica players! He hasn't aged in the 16 years since I listened to him the first time -- a cold winter's night in late 1990. Eddie is still playing a lot of the same music, too. Well, if it's works, don't fix it, eh?

Ten O'Clock Charlies was very important in my social evolution. It was the first real American bar that was a hang-out for me, a home in the night-world. Really there's not been anything quite like it for me since it closed in 1991. A lot of the folks I hung out with there are still good friends: everyone from Justin and Epiphany to the French girls and Leo. I remember too that emotional night of its closing; I was there for the last call. Didn't recognize too many people there last night: Mrs. L, Ham, Theresa, a few others. C'est la vie.

"Steppin' in it" a Lansing-based "nouveau bluegrass" band, is a real local favorite. They've done quite well on the "O Brother Where Are Thou" circuit. The lead singer/songwriter is a Iron Harborian, and I met his dad last night. He was beaming with pride, as well he might. The group brings out a happily dancing crowd to the Rosewood, somewhat older than the usual varsity set who usually pack the place on weekends. I danced a few gigs with Zena, who is another fan. The Rosewood doesn't have the charm of Charlie's, but on a good night it's hard to beat.

http://www.steppininit.com/

It was National Coming Out Day, and to mark it I purchased some cookies at the bake sale held by the campus GLBT student group. I thought that was going to be the extent of my participation in the day, but I was wrong. When I was out tonight at Harley’s to listen to Tomas Tomas and his Latin band, I ran into Cliff – my former student and a local family man – who came out to me as someone who is “transexual.” In fact, he said soon he will be making some pretty dramatic changes in his life. Well. You could have knocked me over with the proverbial feather. I guess it’s really true: You Never Can Tell. Mazletov, indeed.

Earlier I went to see “The Children of Men” tonight at the Gonzo. It’s the P.D. James dystopian novel, adapted with deep delightful gloom by director Alfonso Cuaron, and starring (also glumly) Clive Owen, Julianne Moore and Michael Caine. It’s the kind of picture that makes me want to surround myself with the baby pictures of all my friends and relations.

Tomorrow morning I’m heading down to Chicago with Jimmy the Greek. We’ll be staying with Eddie Thunder at his condo in the burbs, and going with Eddie to “Traviata” at the Lyric Opera. It’ll be a virgin experience for him. I think he’ll like it, Verdi’s version of “The Prostitute with a Heart of Gold” makes for a good starter opera. I’ve seen this production before, but I’m looking forward to hearing Elizabeth Futral portray the consumptive courtesan. She seems to have the pipes for the cabaletta in the First Act – and she certainly looks the part!