Yesterday afternoon, my old friend, Martha Wax and I finally connected (after several trials and misses during the week). I went over to Boom Boom's house in Point Richmond to visit Martha, who is staying with Jim before she moves back to Bolinas in July. Anyway, I met Martha in front of Hotel Mac and we went to The Spot for a drink. Then, we went up to Boom Boom's house and drank a bottle of champagne followed by a bottle of chardonnay (which Martha had cleverly infused with bitters to take the sweetness away). To be fair, I only had one glass of the chardonnay, not really my thing. Anyway, by that time, we were both a little high. We called EVERYBODY. Oh yes we did. Martha called her friend, Thayer, who used to work for the Grateful Dead. I called David Nelson to get John Dawson's phone number in Mexico because it was not in my cell phone and I was too high to drive to Marin to get it - I am sure Nelson wondered what was flying when he heard that message on his cell phone). Called Barry Sless to see if we were missing anything fun. Also called Steve Block for the same reason. Then, as if by magic, McDuke's number popped into my head so we called him to say hello. Then, we called Sally Mann Dryden Romano. Good lord, we were busy.
All of those phone calls gave us an appetite so we went to dinner at the Souzhou restaurant down the street. We had some really good food and I switched to coca cola as my drink of choice. The owner of the restaurant, Eric, fell in love with me and kept hugging me goodbye when we left. It was a little strange. Martha told me today that she had been eating there quite a bit during the week and that Eric had never once touched her. Hmmmm.
Back to Boom Boom's. By this time, I was drinking lemonade. We decided to go to Cafe Van Kleef in Oakland. Got to Oakland, found the club (it is on Telegraph) and tried to park the car but there was not one available parking place. I went around the block several times but I did not want to park in any place that said "No Parking" or was red despite what anyone said. The owner of the club, Peter, came out and said, "Hey Marin County, give me your keys and I will park your car." I handed him the keys and was amazed to see him make an illegal U Turn across Telegraph and pull into a space right across from the club. I had been trying to get to that space but there was no way to do it... I made the usual series of right turns to get to the other side of the street but the 3rd place where I needed to turn from Broadway to get back on to Telegraph had a no right turn sign. Anyway, we finally made it into the club. It is GORGEOUS - Peter is an artist and his paintings decorate the walls. We heard Denise Perrier sing - she was great. A trippy little guy named Marty bought Martha and I drinks. He looked like a cartoon figure and said he was Scottish, from Dundee, although he had a German accent. Martha said "If you are a Scotsman, why do you sound German?" and this dude stuck out his right arm and said "Sig Heil..." Needless to say, Martha and I decided to leave right then and there.
Is it me, or is the moon really weird?