I would like to hire Robert Hass to read to me every night, and it wouldn't matter whether good dreams resulted or nightmares. He could even talk about environmental stewardship. That would be ok. Today he read my old-time favorite poem of his, "Meditation at Lagunitas." It was fun having him in Bloomington the day he won the Pulitzer, and it was fun hearing him talk like my LA roommate about being a Californian living in the Midwest, delighting in seasons in silly ways like having fun scraping ice off windshields.
I also saw Okkervil River tonight (whose singer was way more Wiley Wiggins and way less Northern Exposure John Corbett [Chris Stevens] than I'd expected), and while they did not play my favorite song ("Red"), they did kick some ass. Howlin Rain was good too - they brought out my inner hitchhiker. And I got to have one of those fun cross-generational moments where you exchange eye rolls with a sixteen-year-old girl because the asshole drunk skeezy superfan dude who's shaking his fist wildly and bopping like crazy is about to take one of you out. I'd been rolling my eyes at -her- all night for her cell phone recording/photography, so it was nice to have a moment of feminist companionship.
Also, since I haven't yet posted about the Funk Reading, I now owe you three posts. Tattoo, sex worker's art show, funk reading. And a promotional post soon to come.
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