PLOJ XL – March 7th?
Not entirely sure when this occurred – alas, though photographs were in the original Journal, somehow the exact date is never given… and the photos are spread out on a couple of dates… but my GUESS is that PJOJ XL (40?) was happening at Brennan and Tori’s house (where I was Living at the time) on March 7th, 2009. – rob 7/15/19
I’m not about to claim I can cook. I’ve spent so many years without a kitchen now that I’m sorely out of practice… but when a PLOJ comes around I can still whip up some mean taboule! I hear it’s sexy when I do stuff in the kitchen… I gots to get my fingers in there every once in a while.
Sweet, sweet Sharif getting his wildman maraca on.
Artem Bank of We’re Going to Hell For This at PLIJ I and / or PLOJ XL. Hee!
Eileen Korn and Peter performing at our Pot Luck in Catonsville, MD. It was good to hear our rowdy bunch silenced by here. I’m frankly proud to be able to say she’s performed in my home.
Rowan and Artem and the Lovely Kristen on cello at PLOJ XL / PLIJ I. We’re going to HAVE to come up with a naming convention. I think that even if we plan to continue the Pot Lucks with a vastly pared down attendance of invitation-only peeps that we could still call it a Pot Luck Open Jam because the jam itself is still an open and loose format… it’s just that you have to be invited to the event for it to be open to you….? I just like the word PLOJ better than PLIJ and like the fact that there’s now 40 of them.
The first PLOJ in many, many years. Rick Engdahl and his wife (Sense of Wonder) and son, Ashraf Dawod, Rick Millman, We’re Going to Hell For This… many a peep.
Hrm. Sort of a non-night. Not a bad performance, but nothing that felt worthy of our first night out on the road. Not a bad audience, but not a particularly interested one (there were a couple of notable exceptions) that made me feel kind of like I was playing in a bar. A good cause, a good environment – just apparently a poor match for us. I actually probably shouldn’t be writing as I don’t have much to say. California was a beautiful place to wake up – but the drive to Indianapolis kind of sapped my will to Live. Getting in late, setting up fast – I’m so high strung compared to the very free-wheeling head of Earth House and all my stress and rush and worry seemed incapable of finding some place to ground.
By the next morning I’m feeling light and pleased with the world. Getting in to Robin’s house last night: she’s been feeding the rabbits in the neighbourhood some nice juicy lettuces and so when I rolled in it was to the watching, waiting, hungry eyes of my army… they were frolicsome, chasing one another and chipper. They advised me on my Life and told me that everything was okay, that I was Loved and they didn’t trip me as I made my way to the front door, laden with gear and Cheerios. It was like a SIGN from GOD (Boom! No more Chinese laundry!).
By now Heather and I are already sitting at the Columbus Bar, getting some work done (well, I’m goofing off, writing this instead, aren’t I?) and being ever so grateful for the shift in the weather that’s turned the expected BLIZZARD into cloud-swirling thunderstorms.
In any case – time for Scotch eggs. Oh my.
