Author Archives: Tony Brown
About Tony Brown
so much depends — 4/11/07
so much depends on them
the crumpled toyotas and buicks
bearing the kohl’s and tj maxx masses
of women who work for median pay
just to hold families together
and/or pay for saturday nights
so much depends on
the workaday pickups and vans
that shuffle the turnpikes a car length at a time
manned by the men who wear carhartts for function
just to hold families together
and/or pay for saturday nights
to earn their stripes in
the army
of the ignored
you depend on them
you who sneer at large eyeglasses and broad bellies
who swear to never walk the walmart aisles
who do not understand the necessity of shopping
at the only place you can afford any sort of glasses
the only place left in the half-rural towns
you’re buying into
the towns you’re buying out from under them
who put up the mansions on their grandfathers’ lands
who cheerfully toss your cash at the work of their hands
who do not understand how little of your money
goes into those hands
who would sneer at the smell of the dirt on those hands
who would never tolerate it on your own
so much depends
on the world where they live
which you see and sneer at
from the seats of your bluetoothed cars
from the seats of your business class flights
from the seats at the indie rock show
from the floor where you mock the old time rock and roll
that keeps the flame burning for some folks’ saturday nights
from the seats where you look up from professional screens
and imagine the pleasure of loving rap for its image
from the seats where it’s easy to pretend
you could rough it like them
slumming for a week or so
from the seats at the poetry slam
where you manage to muster a pitiable shake of the head
at a poem about class and indifference
so much depends
on not admitting a divide exists
or denying that the divide’s near impossible to bridge
without leaving some piece of you behind
so much depends
on the crumpled toyotas
the not quite late model enough hondas and saturns
the cars that struggle to pass you to get there on time
because there’s no flextime in a retail backroom
because there’s no daycare in a call center’s perks
because a car isn’t a way of life but a workhorse
because a paint job’s a luxury and a dent is a shrug
so much depends on
you not seeing yourself as remotely
a part of that mass on the highway
there’s a hell in every payment
you make on your life
and you’re not the one
who burns in it
Grrrr…
If you are trying to get in touch with me this week, you should know I have a very fucked up phone and an international inability to retrieve my voicemails. The latter should be fixed shortly but it sucks at the moment.
I won’t even get into the grilling I got at Canadian Immigration this afternoon. (Yes, I said Immigration. Not Customs. Long story related to the Canadian strictness regarding people who come to work in Canada from the US and whether or not we might be taking jobs away from Canadians.)
Grrr…
Tour recap
OK:
Baltimore: after a 1.5 hour shutdown of the NJ Turnpike, we flew into XandO and set up in lightning time for a good set — lots of nervous energy translated into good stage presence and big book sales. Paper Moon Diner afterwards for good food, good talk; we stayed with Chris August who helped us solve a potentially rough car problem and fed us well.
Newark: only venue where we did the entire “Jim’s Fall” suite. Small crowd but again, lots of merch sales and good conversation, both at the venue and the Eagle Diner afterward. (I love the Eagle, by the way.) Then, staying for the next two days with Nigel, Matt, and Hannah.
Also: I strayed and smoked a bit, but I’m back to being a non-smoker — no worries.
Wilmington: a stage, a disco ball, a bar — what more do you need? We did a good set if a tad mellow — our linkage between pieces and our comfort level onstage really gelled here. After that exhaustion and panic set in when we read that there was a potential of an ice storm in NE — briefly considered driving home at 1 AM, but thought better of it and left at 5:45 instead, in cats and dogs buckets of rain all the way up the coast.
To respond to our own critique of the show and the reasonable thoughts of Matt and Liam, we decided to get a tad dangerous for the last gig in Cambridge — on the way home, we developed (a cappella) a bass and poem version of “Punk” to give us another high energy dynamic piece. If you saw it in Cambridge last night, you were seeing it for the first time — seriously. We’d never even tried it before with the bass.
The Cambridge show — well, Adam Stone opened as only he can with the Trio behind him; Faro and I did the rock and roll poetry show and felt good about it (great acoustics and sound system, by the way); Iyeoka Okoawo was her sterling self and the band smoked; Marc Smith did some amazing renditions of Sandburg poems and his own work (LOVED the bebop stuff).
And if anyone wants to know what it’s like to perform onstage in a freeform poetry jam with Marc Smith, Regie Gibson, Richard Cambridge, Adam Stone, Iyeoka Okoawo, and Michael Brown, all backed by the Jeff Robinson Trio (Jeff Robinson/sax, Jerome Deupree/drums, and Blake Newman/upright bass) plus Faro tearing it up on the 5-string electric bass with all of us tossing in added percussion and stuff…
it’s not bad. Hell of a way to end a tour, I’ll say that.
Afterwards, off to Cambridge Commons with the gang to drink and shoot shit…and then home.
Now it’s worky-work stuff for a day or two then off to Toronto for a job.
Later, all…and thanks to all who supported us and took us in.
Home now for a couple of hours
before the show tonight.
Great gig last night — more later. Thanks Wilmington.
Kurt Vonnegut’s dead. I suspect he doesn’t care. Neither do I. His work’s still here — who cares about the man’s shell if the spirit lives on?
notes from my insomniac recliner…the tour so far
has been GREAT. Show in Baltimore was rushed (due to our late arrival, due to a 1 and 1/2 hour shutdown of the NJ Turnpike) but damn fine, with a great and enthusiastic crowd and a good set.
The Newark DE set was excellent; we were surprised by the arrival of a_solitaryman who drove down from Massachusetts to see us! Cool crowd and great poetry in one of my perennial favorite venues.
We’ve still got tonight’s set in Wilmington, and then the show on Thursday in Cambridge — word is a Baltimorean is driving up to see us on Thursday! WTF??? But how grateful we are…
I’ll do more detailed posting later in the week, but suffice it to say this is SO gratifying. Thanks to everyone…
Ok, gang…the tour begins. Duende on the road!
Monday the 9th:
Slamicide, XandO, Baltimore, MD.
Tuesday the 10th:
Worddancing, Newark Arts Alliance, Newark, DE
Wednesday the 11th:
The DelaWhere Slam, Wilmington DE (I gotta get more/better info on this, huh?)
Thursday the 12th:
Final show in Cambridge with Adam Stone, Duende, Iyeoka, and Marc Smith with the Jeff Robinson Trio at the Central Square YMCA.
Chapbooks/CDs are ready. We leave tomorrow as soon as the CPAP device comes home.
Also, just for fun…
See you somewhere out there, I hope…
New Chapbook’s done, at least the layout and master.
An expanded “Jim’s Fall” that includes all the pieces on the CD so folks get both text and performance. Kinko’s in the AM. How wonderful for Easter.
It’ll be available for the tour, too.
Going to try and sleep a bit now. I’m starting to get a little hallucinatory.
I had forgotten, after several years of faithful CPAP use, how awful untreated sleep apnea can be.
I avoided taking any meds because I was, frankly, afraid I might not wake up if I choked in the night.
And I choked in the night. Often. All night long. I’m exhausted and feel pretty sick from lack of sleep.
The good news is that the hotel found my equipment and is shipping it.
One more night of this shit for sure, possibly one more after that if they can’t get it to me tomorrow. I will make the tour and we will be in Baltimore on Monday for the show.
From last night’s conversation
Title for an episode of a Discovery Channel nature series:
“Thompson’s Gazelle: The Popcorn Shrimp Of The African Savannah”
I’m fucked.
Just opened my luggage to discover that I somehow completely spaced on packing my CPAP device when I left the hotel in Charlotte.
You know…the thing that keeps me breathing at night.
I’ve called the hotel and they can’t give me any info until the AM for a variety of absurd reasons.
If it’s found (and it had better be) then it’s going to take at least till Sunday to get it back.
I’m investigating loaners and such but it being a holiday weekend it’s going to be tough to pull off. Certainly, nothing tonight. I’ve called my doctor and the sleep center and no dice till Monday.
It’s going to be a hellacious couple of nights.
If I don’t get it back by Sunday this may affect the tour as I won’t be able to leave until I get my hands on one on Monday. FUCK.
I am eejit.
On my way home from Charlotte, 4 hours early. Yay.
Monster poem in progress. Seriously. Yay.
And for the second time in two weeks, I have accidentally brought a pocket knife (albeit a vey small one) with me in my carry on luggage. I’m amazed…thought I’d pulled it out at home but I guess I only thought I did. Last week I actually had two, one of which was significantly larger. Boo.
Think I’ll call TSA when I get home, or at least send them a nice e-mail. Since I’m already on their shit list for who knows what reason or set of reasons (ok, I suspect I know why, but that’s neither here nor there for these purposes), it probably can’t get me in any more trouble. (Famous last words, those.)
CYA..time to board. Yay!
small talk
happy
to be here.
thrilled
to make your acquaintance.
honored, really.
thanks.
no, thank you.
all you gotta
do
is ask. asking’s enough
to get you anywhere. another time,
another city. i’d be
lying if i said i wasn’t flattered.
you’re really saying
something there. i wasn’t
born yesterday. been there
done that.
i hear you.
it’s not like i needed
to overhear they were so
loud. whattaya gonna
do. you do what you gotta.
what you gotta do, you do.
it’s all there is. really
that’s all we’ve got, i hear you.
i hear you.
listen, you hear me, you
gotta understand, i don’t say this
very often.
i hear you.
thousand opinions in the wind.
everyone’s an asshole with one. every
asshole’s got one. you look smart
not like the others you look like
you know what’s what, you know what
i mean.
at the risk of repeating myself
at the risk of sounding stupid
at the risk of being misunderstood
i mean it
you
look good.
look it’s not like this
is a good place to talk
maybe there’s a place near here
we could get a drink
maybe your number
maybe another time
maybe someone will overhear
maybe the park
maybe the dark
maybe the thing i want to say
maybe another time
see you again
glad to be here
thrilled to make your
acquaintance
