Sunday, May 6, 2012

Chapter 78: In Which I Discuss What I Do When I Should be Working on My Manuscript

Six days until graduation. Still have to get my regalia. Cap, gown, hood, and a "walking card," whatever that is. Rehearsal is Friday. It's fun to see everybody's party pictures up on Facebook. We earned it.

And I've been partying some. Just wrapped up an odds&ends session with my audiobook producer on Wednesday. We went until ten, and he was pretty much falling asleep at his computer. I was bushed, too. But it's done! Now to edit.

I went to a BBQ at his place for Cinco de Mayo. Nice sausages. He told me before I left that it was magical working on this project with me over the last two years, hearing and getting to know the book through my voice. Genuinely one of the nicest things anyone's ever told me.

Cue Boys II Men:

San Franciscans take Cinco de Mayo seriously. You'll never see more ran-over road cones on a highway in your life. Kind of terrifying. I went to an industrial rave with a friend of mine. She was doing promo, her boyfriend was DJing. It was fun. And thirsty. And smoky. And crowded. And long. Her BF went on last and I'm pretty sure I danced a total of 4 hours, minus times spent sitting or lying on a mattress in the green room. Despite compliments that I was a "champion," I don't know if I would have stuck so long if the DJ wasn't my ride. My denim jacket also didn't go well with the color scheme (black on black).

Great music. I'm a fan of dubstep, which has its origins in industrial, among other things. Just really hard, energetic, floor-stomping music. The rave thing is cool to visit every few years but I don't think I'd like to live there. Even the people I met who were knee-deep in the scene admit its an insular culture, with a lot revolving around name recognition, cred, what kind of gear you use, and various forms of metaphorical dick-waving. I don't think I'd ever want to be that deep in any sub-culture. Some folks there remembered it was about the music and came to have fun, others were all about how important they thought they were in the scene. Love the music. That other stuff holds no interest to me, as a grown man.

There was one point in which a DJ sampled "Loved by the Sun" by Tangerine Dream, which my friend instantly recognized. We were singing the Legend theme song for the rest of the night. I think that was my highlight. I also think I'm wise in my choice of friends.

Oh, and some drunk people in a van stopped by us as we were packing up to leave, demanding alcohol from us. The assertion that there was nothing for them and they should just leave led quickly to death threats. The lady driving, who was entirely blitzed, was quick to start screaming "bitch," fuck you," "I'll fuck you up," etc. When it seemed that they were actually leaving, they put the pedal to the metal and DROVE BACKWARDS on the street, to brake in front of us so the lady could continue calling us "bitches" while her boyfriend in the passenger seat apologized intemperately, referring to my friends and I as "Billy, Timmy, and Stephanie." Way to celebrate Mexico's freedom. It was at that point I decided to crash in the city rather than risk a ride to the East Bay, even though one was offered.

My friend lives on Market Street. I'm glad I stuck in the Bay long enough to be able to view downtown SF from up high. I've always been at ground level, in the reek and realness of the cesspool they call SoMa. To look out a window directly at those beautiful rooftops is ranked among one of my best experiences. You just never know when you get these chances. Also spent some time in the city the next day. They were having some pretty cool Mexican heritage cultural events.

Long story short: graduation. Manuscript writing. Drinking. Dancing. Drunk people. Death threats. Allergies. Sunshine.


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