The moment we leave Providence, the clouds start breaking up. Here in Somerville (effectively part of Boston) – well, we’re visiting with my old, old friend, Whitney – and her apartment is beautiful, and vast, with lots of skylights… and it’s like trying to sleep inside Towson Town Centre… or some other vast, white, sparkly well-lit mall.
Minus the billion people, plus a really fuzzy cat who wanted to Love us ALL night… so much sun. So much Love.
Last night, at JJ Barons’ suggestion, we checked out the Cantab Lounge in Central Square. We happened upon a packed night – their thirteenth anniversary of the open mic’s inception. An open mic starting its fourteenth year is almost unimaginable to me! I mean, we’ve played about two hundred of these things by now, and the closest I can think of is perhaps Cafe Florian in Camp Springs… but it’s seasonal and has changed hosts a number of times… this has been every week for thirteen years – most don’t make it past two years.
So, in celebration of not only that, but also the host’s birthday and one of the owners (?) bartenders (?) birthdays, there was cake, and singing, and such a full list that the first 12 people were down to one song apiece, and the remaining pile of names were merely “possibles”. It was actually pretty nerve-wracking. We played ok, but – like I said, I was nervous – there was much danger of rubbing unintentional elbows with myriads of people, and the night was extremely folky. The exceptions were the feature artist (PJ Shapiro) who played some neat drop D melancholiness, and Jaime, the insane air guitarist. That, I’d never quite seen before.
