Masturdating (n.) going out to a movie or restaurant alone
I knew I was doing it, I just didn't know it had a name. And then for the second time in two days, I was misidentified. Thursday I was invited to an art opening as part of the tattoo community. Fact: there's not a speck of ink on my body.
Tonight I was invited to the premiere of "Artists Die Best in Black" at the Firehouse Theater. Martha Mabey, who wrote the book the film is based on, began the evening by saying, "Everyone I invited are people I like."
We've never met. So now I've been mistaken for part of Boho Richmond.
Walking up to the Firehouse, I was spotted by one of the best music bookers in town who was looking quite dapper in a suit instead of his usual t-shirt and shorts. He was outside so as to avoid the overcrowded reception and the attendant schmoozing going on inside.
Once in, we hovered together before lights were dimmed and everyone took a seat, me in the sole seat in the second row not marked "reserved." As a frequent masturdater, I find I often score a superb seat by being alone.
Martha introduced some of the people in tonight's audience who were represented in the book/film, including the artist Mayo Everett, who set one of his driftwood sculptures on the stage.
That's when it hit me. I'd seen a show of his work at Pine Camp back in January. This was the guy who'd find a piece of driftwood and let it tell him what it wanted to be. Seems he'd also shown up at Martha's gallery with a driftwood giraffe and she'd given him a solo show back in the day.
I found it very cool to be watching the film with some of the people who'd inspired characters. Afterwards, Martha was asked if she minded all the changes that had been made - the film was apparently much darker than the book - from her original story line.
"No, because I wrote it for fun," she said with a big smile. "I had Lewis next door and Cindy I would go to exercise class together and Mayo just showed up at my gallery one day. It was just a fun time."
A fun time I'd known nothing about until seeing this film.
And because we masturdaters tend to overdo what we do, when I left there, it was to abandon my car and walk over to Gallery 5. Alone.
A four-band bill had begun at 8, so I was hoping to catch the last two bands. It was Spandrel's last show (a member is moving) and it's always bittersweet to see a band's final performance together. They played a solid set of their distinctive '70s sound before waving, saying goodbye and meaning it.
Waiting for the next band to set up, I noticed for the first time some of the more repellent sounding offerings on the chalkboard over the bar. Great Buds of Fire combined Budweiser with Fireball. Horrible as that sounds, it wasn't even the most off-putting. That honor went to Vomit Comet, a melange of Genesee and tequila.
I only knew a couple of people at the show - the sound guy I'd recently met, the filmmaker, the restaurant manager - but I had a good spot for viewing the debut of Spooky Cool.
Fronted by Zac Hyrciak formerly of the Junglebeat, the new group delivered killer harmonies with three singers including a female singer and drummer, Lee. That's not so different than Junglebeat.
What was different was how much harder hitting their sound was with big guitars and loud drums. No violin. "We're pretty hard, you guys," Zac said stating the obvious after their first song. It was still interesting music with clever stops and starts and tempo changes, just way more rockin' than anything I saw Junglebeat do.
Midway through their 3-song set, a girl near me asked what band this was. When I told her, she thumbed it into her device, showed it to me and asked again if that was it. She was wasting the short time they were playing on her phone rather than watching them. Don't get me started.
When the crowd called for another song, Zac explained that that was all they knew right now. They're doing a show at Hardywood at the end of June and he promised a couple more songs by then. But I have to say their first show sounded impressive, making me wish I had someone to discuss it with.
Two firsts and a last tonight, all taken in through the eyes of a masturdater. I'm lucky I haven't gown hair on my palms given how often I do it.
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