Andrew Vladeck

Blog ~ All Over The Map

Where am I?  This summer has me playing all over the USA like some warped Where’s Waldo wandering minstrel.  Absurdly busy.  Suffice it to say, thanks to you and various forms of wildlife (more on that in a minute) it has thus far been a memorable and frequently great summer.  What’s more, it’s awesome to see all my various projects totally rocking and getting great notice for our efforts.

First off, as you know, I just came out with a hot new record, produced by Kyle Fischer.  This review from The Netherlands came in last week, not everyday I’m called a “poëtische woordengoochelaar” (Rootstime).  My Summer Record Release Tour for The Wheel took me up the East Coast, my first shows in DC and Philly and headlining the Mercury Lounge here in NYC.  I caught many of you good people (thank you very much!) ~ and then west to Hotel Café in LA, where local press had some nice things to say (Grimygoods), and I had a delightful time catching up with friends and eating Mexican food.

Then, a week for a family vacation in Virginia.  Family, Beach, BBQ, venomous snakes… I was hiking with my mom in the middle of a Virginia cypress swamp when all of a sudden she was bit on the heel by a cottonmouth snake (aka water moccasin, aka pit viper, aka bad news).  But she was a trooper, and after 3 days in the hospital with plenty of anti-venom to go around, she was well on her way to a good recovery with a story to tell.  It took my legs (and my psyche) about a week to recover from sprinting like a banshee several miles through the woods for help.  Next year let’s stick to the beach and sharks, riptides and the like.

After that, everything was comparatively uneventful.  The only wild animals to contend with were Fleet Foxes and Arctic Monkeys, who we found amidst at the Canadian Border crossing station at 9 in the morning.  I haven’t seen so many quiet, bearded, rockers in a linoleum tiled waiting room in my entire life.   Yes, within the week I was off to a spate of rad festival gigs with The Honey Brothers.   We loaded in by tram to the top of Squaw Valley for the Wanderlust Festival, where we shared the stage with favorites such as Andrew Bird, Broken Social Scene, Kaki King, Sonya Kitchell, and Amanda Palmer (who joined us on stage for a rousing yet curious “We Are The Champions”).  (New Music Exchange).  You can rock harder at 9,000 feet because the air is thinner. 

We rode the plane back east with half the performers, singing “American Pie.”  Then off to All Points West, seemingly in Jersey (but officially NY State – don’t tell The Boss) where I was delighted by Vampire Weekend and The National (oddly, both bands have people who went to the same college as us Honey Brothers), and most of us slogged through the sumptuous mud in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.  As soon as our set was over we had leave for Osheaga in Montreal, where be played in the most wonderful deluge, to lovely, spirited people.  Beforehand our manager reassured us we wouldn’t get electrocuted playing in the rain, which helped us enjoy singing in one gigantic communal shower.  As it was my bandmate DS’s hometown, he made sure we warmed up with some good food - Schwartz’s - and we made sure we got lost in the old city in search of French brunch.  These were our first shows in a while, and were thrilled be what people had to say. (Montreal Gazette).

Also, I was able to make a cameo with my beloved Balthrop, Alabama out in California as well.  It was like scoring a trifecta. (Portland Mercury, Albuquerque Alibi). I was glad to catch them on their first Cross-Country Tour, playing both Country and Subway songs for the teeming masses.  They even got to play with their Brooklyn neighbor Josh Ritter in Fargo, North Dakota.  Cool! 

In between all this I managed to record a quick live record of my current show with the uber-talented Dawn Landes at Saltlands in Brooklyn.   I’ll look to release several videos and audio of some of these tracks in tandem with my Fall US Tour and The Honey Brothers shows at Seattle’s Bumbershoot in September and West Coast Tour (Interview in NO DEPRESSION). 

Photos posted on Facebook and Flickr.  Button-links above.

See you out there!   And for pete’s sake, let’s please support the Health Care Initiative - let’s try and decrease the amount of human pain and suffering in our fair land… ya know, smile on your brother and all that stuff!

Posted on 08/14/09 at 12:46PM | Filed under: blog

Blog ~ The Wheel hits The Road

We swore it was snowing in Burlington, as white, fat, fuzzy things (seedlings?  not old hippies) filled the air around my car.   It was beautiful and surreal, like that scene from The Right Stuff, where mysterious golden droplets surround John Glenn’s spacecraft.

Ah, Vermont, where a Sunday drive up Route 7 finds locals engaged in a “Piscachio Hunt” on the front lawn of Church, the “Ho Hum Motel” in the shadow of Mt. Philo, the rural birthplace of the fabled founder of AA, the biggest moth I’ve ever seen, that had gigantic owl eye patterns on it’s wings.

The Radio Bean in Burlington was lit up like a fishtank in the afternoon sun, dazzlingly bright and hot, and not finding a rock I could crawl under I sweated it out with people out front before the show, which included a young woman carving a stick with a gigantic hunting knife.   It was a great way to start the tour - with people who love music, ice cream, and organic yerba matte tea.  

The next day brought a gorgeous drive to Cambridge, MA and Club Passim, celebrating it’s 50th Anniversary.  I opened for Shannon Whitworth and her band from Asheville, NC - gorgeous voice, banjo playing, and is there anything better than a pedal steel guitar?   Thanks to everyone who came out on a rainy Monday, setting a precedent for the “this is your life tour” as fans, friends and family from grace each show.  I never knew I had so many cousins.   Problems arose as I was getting ready to drive out of Boston - I couldn’t turn the key in the El Camino Roadster.   Shannon took the keys, climbed in, put her cowboy boots to the pedal - and in one try fired it up, with the radio blasting AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long.“  Hot.

Immediately after the show I started for DC ~ stopping halfway and sleeping in my own Brooklyn bed.  At night you can make Boston to NYC in 3.5 hours, which can come in handy.  At this point, however, touring solo became tedious – and I wished for a friend, bandmate or dog to help with driving and conversation.

The DC gig at IOTA with DC’s Lucky Day and Richmond’s At the Stars was one of my favorite nights - the DC train catastrophe was on people’s minds and shutting down the rails.  Still, many made it out - old friends, new friends, and cousins.  And all my hard work rehearsing and developing the set was making these shows extra fun for me.   I’ve figured out a way how to boost my banjo/guitar/etc sounds to fill up the whole frequency range and room using various pedals and tricks.  It’s freaking awesome to push out that much sound out of my two Fender Twins.    It was another night in which other musicians and the soundman asked me how I get the sound I do, which is oddly satisfying.  An old friend, “The Guru,” counseled me firmly: “The colonel doesn’t give out his recipe, and neither should you!“

I spent an extra magical day-off traipsing around DC with some great new friends.  There was the American Folklife Festival on the Washington Mall - that had an odd combination of the music Latin America and Wales (unfortunately the country and not the leviathan).  We followed it up by driving around with who I understood to be the “Yalla Sashi Betch” crew, crashing a party at the Danish Embassy where, over cocktails, the four of us we rescued a fly drowning in the pool dried up with a coffee Tryst in the Madam’s Organ neighborhood.  It was the first time I realized I actually feel bad for Chinese Food Restaurants and the new wave of Thai Food gentrification.

On the drive to Philly the next day I stopped in historic Wilmington, DE to see more relatives - connected with my father’s cousin David Bromberg (one of the most inspiring musicians in my life) and got a tour of his encyclopedic shop of violins from around the world.  I held at 100K violin from the 16th century – Bile ‘em Cabbage Down!   Caught up with another cousin near Rittenhouse square and went to soundcheck at the super cool North Star Bar.   The folks in the other bands were all incredibly nice (Wooden Birds and Other Lives on a big tour from Oklahoma, and the delightful Two White Horses from Sweden).  Together we learned of the tragic news of Michael Jackson, and perhaps that’s why we all had a particularly fine show and quality hang.  There was the usual exchange of CDs with other bands, and happy trails until we meet again.

Back in wonderous NYC.  Returning never fails to blow my mind…I mean, it’s amazing, within 36 hours of being back I feasted in Chinatown, took in performance art in Tribeca, witnessed a magical rainbow in brooklyn with beers at Barbes and a concert in the park with Dr. Dog, sweated through a MJ-infused house party in the Slope, performed with Balthrop, Alabama on Smith Street, cheered Dawn Landes’s rock stylings, fired it up with Seb Leon… and no, I did not tweet once about it.  This is my life at the moment.  Just got a new banjo - super excited for my NYC record release on tuesday!

That’s the latest.   Love it or hate it, the popularity of twitter and it’s combo of bite-size blog morsals of immediate gratification and the corresponding withering away of attention spans and interest in information that is not in real-time makes me think there are fewer (but better, perhaps) readers of the old-fashioned blog post.   Maybe the reality is the above would be more engaging if it was twittered in it’s crack-rock sized installments in real-time, but there’s something that is so undignified, mosquito-like, if you will, to be constantly stopping everything to swat a thought into the twittersphere.   For those fellow Luddites, I salute you in staying the course on journeys that exceed 140 digits.

Posted on 07/04/09 at 12:37PM | Filed under: blog

Tornado Tracks

Cherry blossoms swept up in a dust devil - I walk through a pink tornado and voila: it’s springtime for Brooklyn.  A Mockingbird on an antennae above Fulton Street  confuses and delights with the Mr. Softee song.  Huh, nature’s got talent.   My neighbor’s dog Vu (for Velvet Underground) walks me down the street as cups of coffee walk art students up.

I just got hold of my new record: “The Wheel.“  Blessed springtime: newness, fresh air - progress in various forms, intoxicating and inescapable.  With thanks to my artist friends, musical and visual, and my mates at End Up Records. 

Dates are filling in for the Record Release tour, where I hope to see you.   My record is available 6/6.  The hometown release headlines the Mercury Lounge 7/7.  Read all about it at this website.

And summer shapes up with fun festival gigs - big ones, all over the country (countries?  Canada too)!  With my band of brothers: The Honey Brothers.   And i hope to cross path with my dear collective folk explosion, Balthrop, Alabama. 

I was so caught up I didn’t write you for ages with tales of wondrous musical moments: the Vaudville-esque night which i got to host, playing old-time banjo, where backstage had the privilege of helping a burlesque dancer into her monkey suit - this happened regularly along the Bowery 100 years ago.  Good people, The Wheel is coming full circle in all it’s wondrous ways.  Many of them GOOD.  Check it out.

Posted on 05/14/09 at 11:29PM | Filed under: blognews

BLOG: I’ll Sleep When I’m back Home in The-City-that-Never-Sleeps

We spent a week this past weekend in Copenhagen.  At least that’s what it felt like: one big, glorious week.  Perhaps it is due to us sleeping in installments, when we could, thanks to jet lag, sound check, obligations, bar-hopping.    It helped that we refused to get off of “New York Time” for the brief weekend we were there - so when once again we found ourselves ordering another round of drinks at 6 in the morning (for the second time in as many days) it was easy to convince ourselves that it really was only 11 at night in NYC.   Besides, as city was even more electric in these pre-dawn hours, so we were extremely grateful to have jet lag on our side, and took full advantage.   I didn’t expect that level of raging from a relatively small (compared to nyc) - Scandinavian city.  Hoyt’s friend Asger traveled with a jovial entourage and led us into our first night with cans of Carlsberg beer on hand (legal to drink on the street) as we hopped to small, smoky bars (legal to smoke indoors) - reminiscent of the East Village in the pre-Guiliani years.  

Further fueling our disorientation was the eternal timelessness of the old city - “The City of Spires.“  Our hotel overlooked this skyline and ancient university library, whose 17th century design, in the absence of electricity, allowed for enormous, stately windows and for us to watch students studying and (as our manager deduced) for them to observe us walking around naked after getting out of the shower…  yikes!   

And then there was the dreamlike quality of the light - a glowing white neon comforter of clouds that saturated all hours of the day evenly, so that in between naps and coffee we couldn’t tell what time it was. And then there was the legions of commuters riding mid-century English road bicycles.  Old Raleighs, in puzzlingly mint condition, with painted chrome, high handlebars, fenders, wicker baskets and little blinking lights.    Copenhagen, it turns out, is the most bike-friendly city I’ve ever seen.  People ride these exquisite, vintage bicycles and leave them willy nilly along the streets squares, if locked at all, locked to themselves by an inconspicuous clasp on the rear tire.  The appearance begs a spirit of trust and comfort.  At least I thought so.   This detail of the city - the charming multitudes of bikers - was something I was so endeared by (more than the koalas of Australia) that I couldn’t cease my over-effusive spouting until compelled by my brothers’ spiteful mockery.  But here, in Blogland, no one is safe.

We were given a tour of the city-unto-itself, the Christiana artists commune neighborhood, where people lived in what Carl Honey observed to be giant dog houses.  Whimsical, clapboard cottages, the kind Snoopy might live in if he was a sculptor with dreadlocks and bought his hash from the open stalls in the local market.   Our lovely tourguides were two Danish friends of Asgers, who rapidly became friends of ours.  One with the undeniably awesome name of Elvira, and delightful, sharp-edged spirit to match, and another who graciously led us around, though limping, as she was still recovering after being bitten by a fucking SHARK, acquired while exploring the Galapagos.  (Can you dig that, 2,000 miles from the nearest hospital?).   We occasionally took turns giving her piggy-back rides as we hopped around the neat Christianshavn neighborhood.  These is good people!  

We felt that way about so many of the Danes we met.   That’s why it was hard to call it a night, especially since we could count the hours we had left in Europe…   But I digress - we were there for music, after all!   Forgive me for not getting to this point sooner, but you already knew that, didn’t you.  The beauty in these shows is about the people and the places.   We played a gigantic party, sponsored by our friends who are designers for “Chicks with Guns” (yes, that’s the real name of their line).   We played right before the famous Danish rapper Jokerum - old school hip hop in Danish.   You can’t get THAT in NYC.  I’ll definitely say it was neat to have played 3 continents in one month, and especially to feel us grow as friends and as a band - and this was a fantastic final concert.   It was our manager’s generous assessment was that we were sounding better than ever, in part thanks to his prophetic theory that we would play better if we held off on partying until AFTER the gig. 

Posted on 02/12/09 at 12:49AM | Filed under: blog

Philly, New York, and Boston - Oh My!

In the van we’re debating the best way to describe the gleeful, beer-curdling, eardrum-bursting response of our Brooklyn audience when, in a lull between songs, we simply exclaimed the fun, rolling syllables “O-BA-MA!“    DuContra isn’t sure how to accurately describe the highness of the pitch.  And Carl isn’t sure how to describe the sheer overwhelming power that i witnessed rock him backwards clasping his ears, with a look of fear in his eyes.  It was probably most like standing in front of a double jet engine.  At 30,000 feet.  Yes, we were exceedingly grateful the NYC audience was very much on our side…. but nothing in our set could compete with the ovation for President Obama.    Still, we couldn’t complain, as we concurred wholeheartedly, and besides, all the positive energy was harnessed to contribute to a great night playing a sold out show in our hometown.

Despite the home-team crowd, perhaps because of it, we found ourselves more nervous than any other of the tour.  We all had butterflies in our stomachs.  Not just because it was a big, beautiful venue, but mostly because friends and family came out and we wanted to justify our existence.   I guess.  Either that or it was Philadelphia’s cheesesteak from the night before.   But in any event, The Prigs were stunningly joyous and rocking, and kicked the night off in the best possible manner (converting the audience) and made our job easy, thank you very much.

Posted on 01/26/09 at 11:41PM | Filed under: blog

DC Inauguration!  “YeaaaaaaaaBooooooooooooYEAAAAAAAA!“

I don’t know where to start except to state the obvious rhetorical question: HOW FREAKING AMAZING IS THIS?   We took a long walk from the hotel to the Washington Mall, each block more and more people, until every street was jammed.  Yet amazingly enough, we ALL made it in timely fashion to stand near the Washington Monument about 100 yards from a “jumbotron” TV.  I don’t think we’ll ever be surrounded by such a mass of humanity ever again.   Especially such a beautifully cool mass of humanity, all watching TV together.  It was like a Super Bowl party, without the lime-flavored nachos and the salty halftime show.    As the dignitaries began to approach the crowed cheered each one.   It got comical when Joe Biden came on the TV and the everyone cheered - then when they cut to Bush everyone booed - then they cut back to Biden and everyone cheered.  It sounded like one big word: “YeaaaaaaaaBooooooooooooYEAAAAAAAA!“

When it came to the speaches everyone got so quiet you could hear a pin drop.   The million people hung on every word. When Aretha sang the national anthem the delay from all the speakers echoed off the monuments and around the mall.   When the preacher came up to off the invocation many hissed and muttered due to his politics, but several people said “it’s alright, let us pray.“  And it was incredibly moving to pray with all of those people for the best for our country, our president, and our world.

But i sure could have used a hot toddy.   i think i’m still thawing from standing on the Washington Mall for several hours.   memories grow even fonder as i get feeling back in my toes.

Later that night we played the historic 9:30 Club for the Rock the Vote Party.   You couldn’t ask for a better night and a better crowd.  And we all were in awe as the Dresden Dolls took the stage after us.    Afterwards we headed for Red and Black, a totally great bar/venue with super cool staff.  

I felt like it was New Years Eve all over again.  a momentous New Year - a New Era, in fact.  And in fact, it is.   

It’s funny, I’ve been in NYC my whole life and I’ve NEVER been to Times Square to watch a light-ball get lowered down a pole… and I can safely say I never will.   Same with everyone in the band.   (Hmmm… I probably shouldn’t knock it til i tried it).   The inauguration seemed the complete antithesis - an immensely important and meaningful event with an appropriately immense crowd. 

Did I mention how freaking awesome this touring van is?   I’ve toured a LOT in my day, and it makes a big difference to have some nice wheels.   I’m loving it, as does Sonny Honey (Dan Green), who similarly has traveled far and wide.   I mean, you can actually stand up in this van.  And there’s wifi… and we’re touring the east coast… so each city is practically on top of one another.

On the way out of DC we brunched at The World-Famous Florida Avenue Grille.   It was jam packed with inauguration revelers for good reason: some of the best hotcakes north of the Potomac.   It was personally thrilling to meet a bunch of people who worked on the Obama Campaign, who were fueling up for their big “Staff Ball” that evening.  Good people, all around.   Honey DuContra INSISTED we sing a couple of old-skool Honey Brother folk songs for the diners…  i tell you, that brother has chutzpah.   Everyone seemed to appreciate “Drunkard’s Lament” - but honestly, I don’t think anything could have ruined the sunny mood inside The Grille.

Now we’re in the van driving from our one-night stand Baltimore.    A humble and down-home rock rock experience after the DC thang.   Philly, here we come.

Anyway, parting thoughts, as per DuContra, “FUCK GUANTANAMO, IT’S GONE!!!“

Posted on 01/22/09 at 02:03PM | Filed under: blog

Miami:  More of the same… palm trees and perfect weather.

First off, I need to sign my own mailing list so I know where I’m going next.   It’s been a bit of a mystery lately.  Especially confusing since the past three places we’ve traveled to have had beaches and palm trees and perfect weather.  And quite frankly i’m sick of it.   I miss trying to shovel my car after it’s been plowed in a Brooklyn street with ice so hard it breaks the shovel.   I miss stepping into a quicksand-like puddle of slush on the corner and watching as the edge of my shoe disappears under the brown ice-sludge.   All this sunshine is making me soft and if i don’t get to NYC soon i’m afraid i will turn into a soft, spineless puddle myself.   Somebody, help me.   If i have to have one more pina colada while sitting on the beach I think I’ll scream.  I’m a  FOLK-singer, for fuck sake.  The photo is from LA, but it’s all the same to me.  Where can I catch a cab around here?

Posted on 01/13/09 at 05:25PM | Filed under: blog

Los Angeles: Mexican Food

Landing in LA to more palm trees and good mexican food.  Australia - which was not unlike california, but with more kangaroos, koalas, health insurance, vegemite, and skin damage; and less mexican food, guns, and plastic surgery.   Australia is probably what would happen to California if you lopped it off and let it drift across the Pacific Ocean for 100 years.   Very happy to be hosted by Clark from The Good Listeners.  One of our favorite bands.   He took me to his new favorite old Mexican restaurant.  Let’s see, how many times can I mention Mexican food?   After which I sat by the pool under a lemon tree and watched hummingbirds buzz around as I re-strung my banjo.    I tell ya, one thing Australia and California have on NYC is this:  LIFESTYLE.   They got a nice freaking lifestyle.  Good weather.  Great produce.  And did i mention, mexican food? 

Posted on 01/10/09 at 02:28PM | Filed under: blog

Sydney: Yacht Rock… Not.

Ordinarily we like to have more truffle oil on our procutto before the lobster is served.  But trying times call for desperate measures, and somehow we all made do.   Somehow the band was blessed with a harbour tour of Sydney on a yacht complete with lovely people and good food.   It wasn’t so indie-rock…  more 1970s Van Halen… but i was impressed with how adaptable everyone was in the band to this new environment.     We had a couple of days to kill, and we got some good help.   Our show at The Supper Club was so much fun.  A cool neighborhood.  A ton of great people came out. 

I’ve had the great opportunity to play gigs BOTH with The Honey Brothers, AND solo “Andrew Vladeck” shows on the same tour.  Pretty neat how that worked out, i must say.   The only hitch has been having to haul a 1,000 pounds of combined musical gear.  Walking through all the airports with two suitcases of gear makes me feel like a prima donna.  But it’s all gear… not wardrobe changes, I swear.    Hopefully the next tour, we’ll have a full wardrobe planned out.  and pyrotechnics.  and fake blood.

My first solo show was at The Basement, in Sydney, with fabulous Ann Vriend.    Yet there was something brilliantly pathetic about the way the night began.

The soundman insisted on plugging my board in without a transformer.  When I questioned “going for it,“ he said “it should be fine, but if it starts smoking, we’ll know.“   Well… the power supply melted licketly split.   melted plastic oozing down the stage.   I took that as a sign to 1) trust my instincts; and 2) carry on.

It all worked out just fine… in the end, it’s all about the SONGS and not about neato effects, as attached as one does get to them.     That being said, the gig was great, and the soundman was great, and the audience was great.   And Ann Vriend blew us all away - virtuosically amazing.     It was also nice to play Sydney as we got to spend the better part of a week there and I met a ton of awesome people I hope to be in touch with for a long, long time.   They taught me about vegemite and “took the piss out” of just about anything.  And they taught me this curious sport of “jowling.“

Posted on 01/06/09 at 02:30PM | Filed under: blog | 5 Comments

Time Passes Slowly Down Under in Oz

Everything happens in slow motion for the Koala.  I got to see one up close outside of Sydney… too close.  Somehow, it all happened so fast.  It thought my ear was a eucalyptus leaf and took a nibble.  Now here I am I’m moving as slow as a koala.   It’s all i can do to eat, play, and go back to sleep.    The antidote is to kiss a dolphin… lucky for me since on our tour up the Gold Coast we stopped by Sea World and oddly we each got to do just that (to the same dolphin, poor girl).   You’d think the humane society of Australia should be notified.  All in a days work, I suppose.

But seriously, time passesss sllooooowly when you are on the road.   I don’t understand it exactly.   I don’t think it has anything to do with Einstein’s theory of relativity (which I don’t understand), though all this time flying 600 miles/hour around the world has probably slowed my internal clock by at least 4 seconds.    But all the indulgences of the tour have probably aged me by 5 years.  Keith Richards said recently that he’s spent “5 years playing music and 40 years waiting around.“   Word.  That is probably a generous estimate.  

Posted on 01/02/09 at 02:34PM | Filed under: blog

The Gold Coast:  High Chedder Content

Posted on 12/31/08 at 02:38PM | Filed under: blog

Bondi Beach: Please Mr. Tambourine Man!

Our flight to Oz was mercifully easy.  That might be thanks to Carl Honey’s sleeping pills freely distributed to the band.  So the time we landed we were good to go to the beach.   Our manager, Sean, and I ran the spectacular beach trail from Bondi to Bronte.   He kicked my ass.   On the way back I enjoyed the tidal pools at low tide (that’s more my speed).  We had our first gig in Bondi Beach.  

I was shocked by how many people came out to see us, and very grateful for how supportive they were.  That show will live in infamy for several reasons.  There was Hoyt Honey’s remarkable performance.   On the second song, Hoyt, in good spirit, and wearing a dashiki, dashed across the stage, tripped on my guitar cable and crashed into the drums, breaking a rib.   And then there was I’ll call the Tambourine Incident. About 20 minutes after a great gig I returned to the stage to collect my belongings.  By that time the supportive audience had kindly lifted a bunch of our things.   What was actually adorable how the sweet kleptomaniacs approached me for a photo or the like.  One girl was wearing my scarf… another had my harmonica…. another our recorder and drumsticks.  And still another with my tamborine.   They all kindly returned our belongings except the tambourine, which wound up in the hands of a surly, strapping gent.  Who refused to return it.    I must confess,  it’s taken me a minute to understand the Aussie sense of humor.   I think I was that failed to appreciate how the inclination to “take the piss” (to jokingly razz someone) can be dangerously heightened when fueled by a lot of drink:  It get’s elevated to a whole ‘nother level.  Add an inferiority complex into the mix and things can get touchy pretty quick.    Hence my imploring him not to steal our tamborine, and him briefly wrapping his fingers around my neck.   It was quite a surprise, and very humbling.  But all’s well that end’s well and we got our tambourine back only to be repeatedly lifted after every single show by more adorable, effusive kleptos, who reminded me they couldn’t help it, as it was in their blood, decended as they were from 18th-Century penal colony thieves.  My kind of people.

Posted on 12/28/08 at 03:01PM | Filed under: blog