boycats

I’m going to break with the chronological telling of events here to ask for opinions on the following: Steve called me up today to say “great show last night” and then he launched into fifteen minutes worth of “you’re a great bassist and I’m glad you’re in the band, etc. etc., but we need to improve your image. As shallow as it is, A&R reps go through a hundred press kits a day, and if they don’t like the look of the band in the picture, they don’t even bother to listen to the demo CD. With that in mind, I’d like to take you shopping to buy hipper clothes. I’d like you to consider shaving your beard, or at least wear a goatee, and I’d like you to color at least the grey out. I’d like you to work out a bit and lose a few pounds, do some pushups or something. I don’t myself care what you look like or what you wear, but we’re trying to land a record deal…” (obviously I’m paraphrasing)

He’s brought this up before, and I blew him off then. It seems to have resurfaced, though, so I guess I have to consider it. What do you think? On the one hand, fuck that, right? But on the other hand, what do I care what I wear on stage? I mean, he’s not saying I have to wear hipper clothes on my own time, just during shows. And hair is temporary—if I hate it, it’ll grow back. I don’t know…

Kelly came to visit to cheer me up, just for the night; she left Chicago around 7:00 and arrived shortly after I got home from the show and then left this afternoon around 3:00. We had a great time hanging out, and we went to the King & I for lunch, to which I haven’t been in almost a year. She’s such a devoted friend, and I’m really lucky to have her in my life.

I decided to go to the Cardinal’s game tonight, and I tried to round up some people to come with me, but I couldn’t generate any interest. As it turned out, I’m glad I didn’t, because going on my own was amazing. There weren’t any non-single tickets left (standing room only), but there was a single ticket available in the lowest section, 10 rows RIGHT BEHIND HOME PLATE. Totally sweet, totally worth the $66. I mean, I was about twenty yards from the batter’s box. I could see the break of the pitches better than I’ve ever seen it before, and it’s fascinating.

But it gets better than that: when I got there, an older man was sitting in my seat, so I asked him if maybe I’d gotten my seat wrong—turns out he did, his ticket said seat #9, and but he sat in #8; totally no big deal—so after moving, we introduced ourselves. Turns out he’s a scout for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, attending the game to scout out the Cardinal’s pitchers in case they want to make a trade.

Let me be clear: this is a guy (Don something…) in his late sixties who’s spent his entire life in professional baseball. He signed with the Brooklyn (!) Dodgers at age 17 in 1953. Actually, this was a dumb move on his part: he was a shortstop/second baseman, and as anyone who knows anything about baseball knows, the 50’s Dodgers featured Pee Wee Reese and Jackie Robinson—both Hall of Famers—in the middle infield, so Don was stuck in the minor leagues with no chance of breaking into the majors. He could have signed with the St. Louis, Philedelphia, or Baltimore, but his dad was a big Dodgers fan, so…

Anyway, after his playing days were over, he went to San Diego as a coach, and then went into scouting. I could go on and on, but my point is this is the closest I’ve ever been to professional baseball, and it was awesome. This guy has seen it all, he knows ten times more about the game than I’ll ever hope to know, and I just wanted to keep talking to him all night. Every time I asked a question or made an observation, I felt like such a naive, clueless fool, but so what? What a thrilling experience.

Too bad the Cards lost (3-1 to Colorado). Albert broke my heart twice, once in the seventh with the bases loaded and one out, and he popped out, and then again in the ninth with one out and two men on—a double would tie the game, a homer would win it—and he grounded into a game-ending double play. Arrghh.

My god, it’s late. I was going to write about having had a good time hanging out with Ben and Carol Ann after the game, but yo, it’s bedtime.