CULTURE, COFFEE AND CROWSFEET

We have a new REAL coffee place in town! It is just a block away from the office and Oh So Perfect! I went in one morning last week and saw that they had a weekly schedule posted on a big chalkboard. That night was an open mic night poetry reading. I was telling Rachel about it when I got to work. We kicked it around and decided that we would go. We are all about *the culture* ya know. The poetry reading was scheduled to begin at 6:30.

I got to Broadway Brewery before Rach so I went ahead and got a Raspberry Italian Cream Soda. YYYUUUUMMMMMYYYYY!! They were getting chairs and things arraigned for the festivities. I got ready to pay and the Batista leaned in and told me, *UUUmmmm Ma'am (Yes, he called me ma'am) we are about to have an open mike night for poetry.....* Me *Yes! That is why I am here!* Him ~heavy silence and blinking of his eyes~ That should have been my first clue.



I found a booth and got settled in and waited for Rach. There was already a group of young men fiddling with the sound system. And fiddling and fiddling and fiddling.



JOKE: How many college students does it take to adjust a mike?



At least 8 and they all must say.......One.....Two......Three......at different times and different levels. This continued for quiet some time. However, I am sure the same thing would have happened with a group of 40 year old men.




Rach comes in and we get ready to be entertained. It is 6:30.



People trickle in and find their seats. A lot of hugging goes on between the male and female of the species. Several have lap tops. At about that time, the dark haired young man that seems to be in charge of the whole thing, begins to pass around a note book. He tells people to write down their name if they are there to perform. He goes to every single person there with that instruction until be gets about 2 feet away from our table....stops...and then turns away.



I guess we just did not look too Sylvia Plathish to him.



He also begins to announce that there will be three rounds at the reading. He urges us to keep the first round FAMILY FRIENDLY. They he goes on to say *You know what I mean....like TV censorship 30 years ago.*



WHAT THE ????? I am thinking that he has no point of reference seeing as though he was not even a twinkle in his daddy's eye 30 years ago!



And just how down and dirty was this thing going to get? We just could not wait to see what happened in round 2 or round 3!



The poetry reading did not begin until 7:30. Rach and I NOW KNOW the cool girls do not get there until AT LEAST 7:30. We shant make that mistake again!!

The reading began with a two man duet. Poetry had really changed over the years. Now it involves a hand gesture for each word and a mighty flinging of your paper once you have finished your page!



We learned how the poet is an addict for his craft. The words are his drug shot up into his cold icy veins. ~this is all accompanied by a dramatic slapping on his hand on his other arm trying to raise a vein~ How lovers and solders are all the same in this battle field we call love. ~now you need raise your right hand up in the air like you are holding a sword and bow your head to your chest and give a LLLLOOOONNNNNGGGGG dramatic pause~



Then a young man stood up to read a poem from his lap top. An ode to his Japanese ancestry.


~blink blink~



He was a little white boy. If there was any Japanese in him, it was only because he ate Japanese food for lunch. A small blip on the Japanese radar.

The words that ran throughout round one were: Shivers, addicted and war. Addicted and war are easy words to weave through poetry. I think you got bonus points for the use of shiver. I kid you not...it was in almost every poem! *I shiver as I stand alone on this battlefield of your rejection*, *the words shiver as they race through my pen*, *shiver me timbers* .

~snickers~ that last one I just threw in to see if you are still reading.

One girl got up to read and she looked the part. Hard...edgy....mean streets. I knew her words were going to come deep from the soul. Instead.....it was all about basketballs and rebounds in relationships. *Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Rebound off the back board of the soul*.

That concluded round 1.

These kids tried so hard. Yet, it is hard to write about things that have not been experienced yet. We were impressed with their jaded sensibilities even though they are all middle class white kids with Old Navy credit cards. I guess that we felt the same things when we were their age. Lord knows that I thought that I KNEW everything when I was 18. For $3.50, the whole experience was better than a movie.

I looked at Rachel and we both knew what the other was thinking. It was time to be at home in our p.j.'s. We got up to leave. I just know they thought we had packed our hoverarounds in the handicapped parking.

We tried so hard to stay for round 2 and 3 but....well you know....

we had to go home and take our Geritol.