Patty K comes to town, Lestat Santa, Give Love on Christmas Day

I IMAGINE—it’s Christmas, and it’s many years ago… When I was two years old, I discovered that Santa wasn’t “real” because he was actually my Dad around 11pm and then she was my Mom the rest of the night, or a few minutes before and after the gift/giving-receiving around “Noche Buena!” So, right there and then, I knew Santa’s white beard and beer-belly weren’t real – and that she/he was a spiritual symbol, not a physical reality. But then, I mean, nevertheless, right at that very instance, the Santa Clause/Phenomenon was, and still is, very TRUE in my heart. He/she exists within me, anytime anywhere, in any given circumstance—as long as I “allow” it to exist in my own reality. Hence, the following Christmas and the ones that followed, I kept on “reinventing” Santa Claus! Siouxie Santa with a new wavish green-and-blue beard, Kwai Chiang Santa with a Mandarin accent, Macabre Santa with an Alice Cooper costume, Crazy Horse Santa with a Lakota native Indian headgear, Cool Santa with Blues Brothers shades…
You see, I really want to be Lestat Santa—with vampire cape and all—this Christmas but I’m just so poor that I couldn’t do it anymore. Well, I will be going to my friend Jenny Greer’s Poor Man’s Christmas Party this Saturday, Dec 17, to hang out with what she calls as Dirty Santa, so I don’t know… I’m bringing a $5 gift, by the way, that’s actually 40 packets of ramen noodles.
But, oh yes, I miss those Santa days—when I’d gather the family together, kids all over, and I call out names and give out gifts…Jeez, I wish Warren Buffett, Bill Gates, Michael Dell, LeBron James or Julia Roberts share me some of their millions, or maybe just a few thousands, and then we’d organize a “Bonfires for Peace” right in the middle of the snow and cold, and just give out the millions/thousands in the form of gifts to children and families… Dreams, y’know.
Right now though, I just need another Santa incarnate to hand me a gift or two. My choice gifts for Christmas—the new Mark Twain biography, any one of the two coffeetable cookbooks at Malaprop’s, the DVD copy of Steven Spielberg’s “Into The West” TV movie, or if Santa is a bit loaded, how about a new laptop or a handheld camera? (So you get the hint…) [Oh, by the way, The Blue Sky God/dess by way of gallery owner Carlos Steward loaned us a van, indefinitely… so that’s one Christmas gift taken cared of.] Don’t forget though – more than anything else, Christmas and New Year’s Eve is family. They’re the greatest gift. Be with them, stay with them, be warm with them. So don’t mind whether Dad assumed a silly Santa gear with whatever he could salvage from Goodwill or the Christian rummage store at Westgate Mall, or whether or not you see Mommy kissing Santa Claus under mistletoe on the aftermidnight… don’t be lonely this Christmas, y’all! My favorite Christmas songs—believe it or not—are Michael Jackson’s “Give Love on Christmas Day” and “Happy Christmas, The War is Over” by the Plastic Ono Band.[Aside—a young girl, 12 year old Margarita Minerva Alcazin, from… check this out, San Juan, Puerto Rico, read my most current lifeasagreyhound blog entry (“JC was a cool dude”), and promised to send me $5 this January as a “good luck charm for 2006.” Sweet!]

MEANWHILE, here’s my “journal” of the previous Bonfires week/s…

Dec 1. Malaprop’s, 6:30pm-8:30pm. Courtyard Gallery, 8pm-11pm.
Oh yeah, Bostonian Patty Keough—such an expostulating conglomeration of hyper-energetic molecules—blew in to town last week as one of the special performing guests to The Bonfires/Third World Asheville weekend! She flew from Boston, Massachusetts to Orlando, Florida then drove ten hours to Asheville, North Carolina! Definitely, she was one sweet avalanche of overflowing, exploding chakras!
Nathan Oliver’s downtown streets-bred, gruffly-truthful, radically humane acoustic folk-rock filled the first hour at Malaprop’s. He had a decently-attentive little crowd… it seemed like they knew his songs, a kind of intimate familiarity that makes you wanna drop a dollar or two at his “love bucket” and lotus-squat right on the pavement. His is the grimy, soulful wisdom of the glorious streets.
Patty K was visibly tired, her guitar missed a chord, she freefallingly let a lyric or two slipped by, but she still did her 1hr bit by way of very-personal, cerebral, journal-like original compositions. She hosts open mics back in her neck of the “concrete” woods in Massachusetts, and that showed as she lovingly worked the few apparently-chillin’ (or warmin’) souls in the café like she already met them two nights ago. [Patty sweetly drowned herself in her performance that she for forgot all other intangibles beyond the barenaked mic. Yup, she forgot her DIY CD demos at Malaprop’s, discovering it only after almost 24 hours later.]
[ASIDE: Our first-ever show at Malaprop’s happened on Oct 17 2002. It was emceed by Denise Ostler, and included, among others, poets Nan Kavanaugh, Victor D’Baptista, and special guest was a poet-activist from the Western African nation of Togo… Since then, we’ve been holding shows at this venue, which I fondly call as my “neighborhood couch,” almost on a monthly basis.
I stepped out of the door—three songs down Patty’s show—to go to Courtyard Gallery. We were kicking off (with Mr Steward’s Courtyard Gallery&Agency and Jarrett Leone’s Pure Energy—Experimental Harmonic Overtone & Percussion Music) the Thursday open mics there.
For a first event, the open mic went good—there were about 11 or 12 nice souls in there, forget about the below 20s temp or the slight confusion which was the right entrance (Walnut or Carolina Lane?) Beautiful holdouts (refugees?) of the Beanstreets/Indigenous open mics—eg Sean, Brian, etc performed, so with Jarrett, of course. Their little, mystifying brass gongs/xyplophone/brass trinkets and improv didgeredoos (right spelling?), throat-singing never fail to perplex and fascinate me. Patty sang few songs, I read poems from the “Aloud” book of New York’s Nuyorican Poetry Café and two of my “old” poems. Carlos showed two short films from Twin River Filmfest’s winners archive before we started the open mic proper…

Dec 2. Cancelled, French Broad Coop’s The Movement & Learning Center.
I moved this event to a still-unknown/undecided date. Based on the last (Nov 17) engagement there (which was meant to welcome Bonfires visitors), visiting performers seemed wearied by travel and the December frost makes comfortable Asheville bodies opt to dwell in their warm cocoons… So I thought that maybe I was pushing it too hard. So, uhh-let’s take it easy. So I just requested/asked Patty K (who crashed in The Indie Crib the previous night) to rest up, check out Asheville this day, instead of having to pressure herself with another “intimate” show—just prepare for the Big Event at the Grey Eagle the following day.
Patty bought me and Marta The Nicer Osbourne’s breakfast at Waffle House (Tunnel Rd)—my choice!—in the morning. And, oh yeah, the Waffle House “gig” was carried out/punctuated by Patty’s long, over-extended conversation/”how-are-you”/chat with the restaurant manager (who, herself, has many sweet, exciting stories from the road)…
We were supposed to meet up at Mellow Mushroom that evening for a Bonfires-hosted dinner but oh-dear-Patty got stuck with another rollickingly-high-and-joyous conversation with some beautiful souls in some Asheville patch somewhere that the evening so time simply slipped away. We shared the dinner with just Kapila Ushana… and talked about more Indie stuff over wine, coca cola (the largest in the universe, found in Mellow Mushroom!), and pizza.

Dec 3. The Grey Eagle. 6pm to past midnight.
Ash Devine gave us a lift, ran some errands (picked up some food at Wild Wings, photocopied timeslots at the Pack Library). Things were smoother, less stressful compared with the first event (Nov 18). More food for the performers, more people in the audience (and more attentive and appreciative, too). Performers sold some of their CDs as well, there was a group photograph (by Carlos and Agent Mulder), more money at the door (oh yeah, the $5 for such an awesome lineup was a REAL treat). Some patrons were even saying, “Only $5?”
As I previously posted… Thanks to Carrie Gerstmann for a emceeing the night, tying the program together like lovely beads of diverse passion, emotion, and grace. Thanks to Glenis Redmond for the heavenly words that embraced the cold and grime of the earth--the words that silenced the evening but made us go home with an awakened spirit. Thanks to Laura Blackley for the graceful grit, the beautiful energy, and the sylvan music that spoke of a fireplace intimacy with a heart that rocked our blues away... Thanks to Patty Keough for the lively muse with chakras that celebrate life. Thanks to Martha's Trouble--Ron and Jen Slocumb--for the seductive synergy that makes us all want to cuddle our pillows that aftermidnight. Thanks to Vanessa Boyd for still peacefully, triumphantly dancing with the lovely devil on a lovely Saturday night (thanks also to her hand-drummer Dale Thompson). Thanks to Kimberly Summer for the blue skies that helped warm the chill of the December frost. Thanks to Ash Devine for the infectious beauty of her yet-to-blossom moondance sonata...
Thanks to Marta Osborne, my ever-loyal, ever-patient working-soul buddy... Thanks to the Grey Eagle's Brian and Jeff for sheltering our rock journey and sublime madness for two nights... Thanks to Carlos Steward and his wife for helping us stoke the fire of zeal and anticipation for future Bonfires... Thanks to the sound lady, even her quiet meant a cool poem... Thanks to Burgermeister, West End Bakery, Wild Wings, Greenlife Grocery, and Lenny Dimaio of Noi's Thai Kitchen for the overflowing blessings of food and drinks. Thanks to Amore, Malaprop's, New French Bar and Screen Door for the gifts...
More than anything else, THANKS to The Blue Sky God/dess for always watching... over us. For always providing, for always inspiring... By the way, we plan to hold another all-women’s show at a still undisclosed venue (maybe Grey Eagle again) for February or March. We hope to have the Divine MAGgees, maybe Molly Kummerle, Brianna Lane, and (hey!) Katie Kasben in the next…

Dec 8 & 9. Second Thursday Open Mic. First Friday Filmshows. Courtyard Gallery.
Jarret L was under the weather, cold was still humming out the door, but we still unexpectedly maintained/sustained the 11-12 people attendance. Honestly, it’s unexpected… there was a time during a Malaprop’s-hosted open mic (Thurs, 6pm) when there’s only 3 or 4 people in there. When we were doing Bearly Edible open mics, there was a time when I had to cancel a show because there’s almost no people there. At Courtyard, it’s an entirely different thing. We still managed to pull in a dozen people in there despite the venue being kinda “hidden,” and the snotty winter-chill, and not much publicity (I reckon)… Oh yes, a positive/hopeful/faithful vibe always help – a Buddhist dictum of “when you imagine a good thing happening, it’s happening.” We got people focused on the words spoken, music played – that’s what we need and prefer, right? We have free or for-donations drinks, we got awesome sound/PA (with a film projector, if you want it), cool and colorful multicultural paintings on the walls for the apt ambiance, quiet and warm and cozy… (we also had free pizza from Mr Carlos). When you build, they will come.
We exhibited Akira Kurosawa’s 1948(?) classic, “Rashomon,” the following evening. Obviously, people are still getting used to the venue/schedule—but what’s very inspiring and motivating is the fact that Mtn Xpress’ resident film critic Ken Hanke vowed to review or “preview” movies that are schedule to be shown that week, every issue of the magazine. An older man, very excited and exhilarated, strode in before we started the film rolling and voiced joy and interest over the initiative… a nice woman (who’s a visible presence in many a-Bonfires show) watched “Rashomon” with us.
A lingering objective of these Friday filmshows is to show young and old viewers alike the cinematic values of old classics and films from other cultures/countries… Why show films just for the shallow heck of earning dough or killing time? AshevillePizza&Brewing and Asheville’s Carmikes and multiplexes do that better. For example, “Rashomon” is no-frills, almost “off-off Broadway-ish” like production subtlety. But the moral/spiritual/human kick was all over. A short, non-uptight discussion-on-the-round follows after the showing.

So see you on Dec 16 – it’s going to be Leon Ichaso’s “Pinero” – Benjamin Bratt’s powerful essay of the life and times of Nuyorican poet Miguel Pinero. Mr Pinero’s work is considered as a pre-cursor to hip hop and rap… the sociocultural bite and rough-textured but deeply, gnawingly truthful metaphorical edge of his work is definitely beyond the flimsy rage and smartass trash talk of Eminem and P. Diddy. Tupac Shakur is a lot closer to the Pinero line.
Check it out.