SO we nestled into the Inn on Lake Superior and relaxed the rest of the afternoon away. John picked up dinner and we ate in the room, enjoying the views of the lake. The exausted from the road trip and taking care of baby part of me was tempted to just spend the night in the comfort of the hotel but Julie made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

A ride!

No choice but to gussy up in my “I <3 Dirty Rocker Boys T-shirt" and hit the kind of cold, kind of wet town.

I surrendered myself to the night and that made all the difference.

We started with cocktails at Teatro Zuccone and I had my first glimpse of what life would be like if I moved back to Duluth. Lots of cool people but no Belvedere vodka. We checked out The Bitter Spills and then walked through the frosty mist to Pizza Luce for Manheat. There I saw Julie's man Bob, also an old friend, and learned that there would be a special show at the end of the night-like 2am. This was my end game. Make it until 2am.

Hopped the trolley for the ride down Superior Street and then back up to Fitgers to a bar called the Rex. In my day it was The Tap Room and you only went there for happy hour and darts. But on that Friday night the place was PACKED.

Packed with the new Duluthians and those of us who struggled to create a scene way back in 1991, when you had to struggle to find an audience for live music and theater and art. Packed with old friends, ex-lovers and people that I knew only from the internet. It was overwhelming. I drank ice water and smiled a lot. Did I mention it was overwhelming?

Then it was awesome because I reunited with so many people that I have missed. People I had thought I had lost. People I thought I had burned bridges with. I got to wish Starfire happy birthday in person, on his actual birthday. I smoked a clove cigarette in what was like a fairy smokers garden with a view of Lake Superior.

I watched Hotel Coral Essex and Cars and Trucks. My only regret of the night was missing the final show of Bone Appetit. But my end game was The Black Eyed Snakes and I knew I would never find the party on my own. So when Bob said it was time to go I happily tagged along to pick up his gear.

It was time for the secret show!

Black-Eyed Snakes were playing a house party on 21st Ave. Some ultimate frisbee players had hired the band for a private show at their keg party. We pulled up on to some little side alley and parked the car. We all grabbed a piece of gear and followed the smell of pot to the house. Julie had to give me a hand up the steep mini-hill that was slippery with wet snow. As I trudged through the slick grass, carrying the guitar in the eerie streetlight, I felt incredible. It was 2 o’clock in the morning and I was loading in gear for some crazy party. It is a mental image that makes me smile, even now, over a week later.

We head into the house. House? Mansion? It is part incredible, part run down. There are two young cats to play with and a keg of beer. A young man offers to pour us some into pink and yellow plastic cups. They remind me of Easter. The beer is Kayak Krolsh. Who are these guys that they can afford this house, this band and a keg of this beer?

We periodically look at each other and say, “This is weird, right?” “Yeah, this is weird.” As the guests start to pour in I feel old and cool all at the same time. I get Al Sparhawk a glass of water and remember the crazy boys I met at a Retribution Gospel Choir show back in Chicago. They would think getting Al Sparhawk a glass of water was the coolest thing ever. Even though I have known him for something like 18 years I kind of think it is too.

We drink more and move into the living room just as the band begins. The lights are turned off and the crowd goes wild. We dance, in the dark. The young boys like my shirt. I get hit on. I want to say, “turn on the light, I’m an old lady!” I realize that if I had had a baby at 17 or 18 I could be their mom. I feel like a Minnesota Cougar. I laugh and shake their hands, smile and nod at their stories. All of their conversations end with, “Do you want to go out and get high?” or “I’m going to go smoke some weed. Want to come?”

We dance some more. The show is over. Blahblahblahler and I drunkenly talk about babies and home ownership. Her boyfriend frantically tries to pull her away, “We have a ride! A RIDE!” I have a ride too. Bob is a rockstar saint and drives me back to the hotel.

It’s 4am. I head through the hotel lobby and go straight to the water dispenser in the breakfast room. I slam glass after glass of cold water. The front desk guy smiles and nods knowingly. I go to the room, tip toeing as I approach. Carefully I slide the key card into the lock and wince at the click. Push the door open, hoping to not wake my family. But lights are on, TV is on, John’s on the computer and Canyon is on the floor, playing with his toys. Lilo jumps on me. Everyone is awake!

This is like icing on a Homegrown cake. I am drunk and happy and don’t have to be quiet. I go out on to the balcony and do a happy Homegrown Lake Superior dance in nothing but my “I <3 Dirty Rocker Boys” T-shirt and my underwear. I eat cold Famous Dave’s BBQ and tell John all my stories. I hug my dog and my baby and think about how lucky I am to have them here with me.

In the morning I realize that the hotel security camera is facing my balcony and front desk guy probably saw my happy Homegrown Lake Superior Underwear dance. I like to think he smiled and nodded knowingly.

On Sunday a friend from the Twin Cities and I were talking on the phone and he asked wistfully, “Did you hear about the Black Eyed Snakes show?” And I got to say, “Hear about it? I carried in the guitar!”

Tags: Uncategorized // 2 Comments »