my name is eddie ... *
yesterday, a friend confided in me the murphy's law of his life: the minute he gets something fixed, something else breaks. the something and something else in this case were the problems with the hot water in his apartment and his computer, respectively. his plaintive song struck home, because for the past week and a half one of the two radiators in my apartment hasn't been working. it's the rad in the living room, so for over a week and a half i've been huddled in blankets at my desk trying to write, all the while blowing on my finger tips to keep them warm (i never thought writing my dissertation in a garret would be so true to life!). this morning (finally!) the plumbers came to fix it. i couldn't help but think about jon's observation when the two plumbers, eddie and his friend, both of whom had hair that would make an 80s bon jovi envious, clomped up my stairs in their work boots.
while he poked and prodded the tangle of metal pipes and valves that is usually disguised under a chic wooden cover, eddie's friend and i chatted and he told me that he lives in the house almost directly behind mine. when i found this out, my back bristled slightly, for behind our house, with a shocking regularity on wednesdsay nights after 9:00 pm, there's an 80s hard rock band that practices, playing VERY LOUD covers of everyone's favourite 80s hits. it drives my neighbour and i up the wall. in the summer when my bedroom window is opened, i usually lay in bed with a pillow over both ears cursing led zepplin. my neighbour has, on occasion, called the police.
well, you guessed it. eddie and his friend are members of that band. when he realized he was my neighbour, eddie's partner gleefully turned to me with a giant smile on his face and with genuine excitement asked if i heard the band that practices behind my house on wednesday nights. i smiled mutely for a minute and then recovered enough social grace to admit that i did. he went on to tell me all about it -- their upcoming gig downtown, their myspace profile, the release of their first cd, and what a great drummer eddie is. (when he first started to tell me about the band, i had a sneaking suspicion that eddie was the drummer). i stood there feeling like a horrible snob.
i've often gone off on patiently-listened-to rants about the necessity of supporting local musicians (a friend has a fun folk/eurotrance band that i like to brag about and another friend has a standing gig every other wednesday night playing celtic tunes at a local pub), and i try to do my bit by volunteering at local music festivals and such. why should my support be dictated solely by my taste (i'm sure bourdieu would be fascinated ...)? as per the tao of jon, i think something else broke now that my rad is fixed.
so, here's the info that eddie's friend passed on to me -- the band's name: sumthin' rotten; their next gig: "in a couple of weeks at the time to laugh club on princess street'. i've done some preliminary googling and haven't been able to locate the finer details, but if i do get my hands on them, i'll post them here.
*if you haven't heard the song by the south austin jug band that the title of this post borrows from, you should ...
while he poked and prodded the tangle of metal pipes and valves that is usually disguised under a chic wooden cover, eddie's friend and i chatted and he told me that he lives in the house almost directly behind mine. when i found this out, my back bristled slightly, for behind our house, with a shocking regularity on wednesdsay nights after 9:00 pm, there's an 80s hard rock band that practices, playing VERY LOUD covers of everyone's favourite 80s hits. it drives my neighbour and i up the wall. in the summer when my bedroom window is opened, i usually lay in bed with a pillow over both ears cursing led zepplin. my neighbour has, on occasion, called the police.
well, you guessed it. eddie and his friend are members of that band. when he realized he was my neighbour, eddie's partner gleefully turned to me with a giant smile on his face and with genuine excitement asked if i heard the band that practices behind my house on wednesday nights. i smiled mutely for a minute and then recovered enough social grace to admit that i did. he went on to tell me all about it -- their upcoming gig downtown, their myspace profile, the release of their first cd, and what a great drummer eddie is. (when he first started to tell me about the band, i had a sneaking suspicion that eddie was the drummer). i stood there feeling like a horrible snob.
i've often gone off on patiently-listened-to rants about the necessity of supporting local musicians (a friend has a fun folk/eurotrance band that i like to brag about and another friend has a standing gig every other wednesday night playing celtic tunes at a local pub), and i try to do my bit by volunteering at local music festivals and such. why should my support be dictated solely by my taste (i'm sure bourdieu would be fascinated ...)? as per the tao of jon, i think something else broke now that my rad is fixed.
so, here's the info that eddie's friend passed on to me -- the band's name: sumthin' rotten; their next gig: "in a couple of weeks at the time to laugh club on princess street'. i've done some preliminary googling and haven't been able to locate the finer details, but if i do get my hands on them, i'll post them here.
*if you haven't heard the song by the south austin jug band that the title of this post borrows from, you should ...
posted by Amanda Bonner at 9:23 a.m.
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