Real Music Alternatives

Every Saturday, we’ll be posting a new illustration by David Lester. The Mecca Normal guitarist is visually documenting people, places and events from his band’s 26-year run, with text by vocalist Jean Smith.

The host of the film festival is standing in front of the screen on opening night. There are only about 20 people in attendance, mostly art-student types and one older guy, a big fat guy with a beard and long slicked-back hair wearing a sweatshirt with a logo across the front. He looks like he got lost on his way to a tugboat captains’ potluck.

“We are very pleased to have one of our directors here tonight,” the host says nervously into the microphone. “Jean Smith’s film Attraction Is Ephemeral will be second in the program. Jean? Can you can give us a wave?”

People turn to see where I am—at the very back. I wave and smile. Lights out. People laugh at my film and clap loudly at the end. Half way through the third film, I elbow David, and we start to move slowly from our back row seats as planned. We’re sneaking out for a few hours before our performance. My glasses case drops and clunks on the wood floor, alerting anyone who cares to turn around that we are leaving. I’m giggling and David is shushing me.

Returning well in advance of our one-hour set, the first band is holding off on playing until more people to arrive. David and I take turns sitting at our merch table: CDs, singles, LPs, books, t-shirts, postcards.

I am taking a close look at the gallery’s very old electrical outlets when the tugboat captain arrives. I guess he wasn’t in the wrong place. I watch him looking very carefully at a short stack of our promotional postcards, which feature a rather scantily clad me. Intending to set the postcards back on the merch table, he accidentally drops them and they swish across the floor. He crouches to pick them up and, in this position, he opens his jacket and slides about a dozen postcards into his pocket. He stands up and puts the remaining postcards back on the table. I get a sort of creepy feeling, and I’m curious. I wander over to the table and listen to him joking around with one of the event organizers—he’s flirting with her, teasing her. Maybe she’s his girlfriend. His name is Glen. He’s a painter.

“When is the music going to start?” Glen asks me. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“Mine too.” I laugh. “I hope they start soon.”

“I want to buy this CD,” he says. “How much is it?”

“It’s $10, but have you heard our music before?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you wait until after we play before you buy it?”

“I may not be here then.”

“Maybe you won’t like it,” I say.

“Well, then I’ll return it. I live nearby. I’ll go and listen. If I don’t like it, I’ll bring it back.”

“I’ve never had a return before,” I say. “You should stay, listen to our set and then decide if you want to buy the CD.”

Glen buys the CD and sticks around. During our set, Glen is sitting with the organizers, positioned behind a post. As I’m singing, I’m wondering why he is hiding and what he thinks of these songs about guys I’ve gone out with. The audience laughs in all the right places—and in a few new places. After our performance, I make my way to our merch table where Glen is standing looking at the CDs.

“So,” I say. “Do you need to return the CD?”

“No,” he says. “Actually, I need to listen to your lyrics again. I missed some of the words when you were singing.”

“Some of the words to my dating adventures?”

“Yes, I need to study more about the details of what was so wrong with each guy,” Glen teases.

“Ah ha. A little bit of research, eh?” I say.

“Which dating website do you use?” he asks.

“Lavalife.”

“A friend of mine suggested I try Lavalife. I looked at it, but I just felt very sad.”

“Sad?”

“The photos of women revealing themselves to get a date. It just felt sad to me. Here’s a question for you: When you meet these guys, are they worried that you might write a song about them?”

I start to answer, but we are interrupted by a few people wanting to buy CDs. Glen waits a while, then waves good-bye and heads down the stairs.

I wake up in my crisp, clean motel sheets thinking about Glen’s question: Do guys I meet think I’m going to write about them? David and I go for coffee and pastries in a nearby café. We make a plan to pack up our stuff and go to a couple of festival events before heading home.

I am happy to see Glen at the noon event in a small gallery.

“Hey,” I say. “Last night you asked me if guys are concerned that I might write a song about them.”

“Oh—I forgot about that. Has it ever come up?”

“It has, in fact. I mean, after last night, after listening to my songs, would you go on a date with me?”

“A date?”

“Yes, a date,” I say. “If I asked you out on a date.”

“If you asked me out on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Sure. We could go for steak and lobster at the Keg And Cleaver,” I say.

“Lobster?”

“Yes. Steak and lobster.”

“Steak and lobster?”

“Yes, steak and lobster,” I say. He’s a big guy. He probably doesn’t want to go out for a salad.

“At the Keg And Cleaver?”

The woman Glen was joking around with last night is standing with us. “Just say yes Glen. Just say yes.” I guess she’s not his girlfriend. Glen looks confused—or maybe he’s teasing me again.

“It could just be steak,” I say, starting to wish I hadn’t said anything. “It doesn’t have to be steak and lobster.”

“Now you’re taking the lobster out of the deal?” he says.

“No it can be steak and lobster, but it doesn’t have to be a date.”

“Now it’s not a date?”

“It’s two artists going out for dinner. We’ll have a fun time,” I say and move away to look at the photos in the gallery, wondering why Glen is making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be, wondering if he thinks this is funny. I’m wishing I hadn’t said anything.

Glen comes up beside me and says, “I’m not sure I know what a date is. What if the date part doesn’t work out? Can we still be friends?”

“I’m unclear on what a date means, too. I think we can be friends either way.”

“To Avoid Pain” from Mecca Normal’s The Observer (download):

The Observer (Kill Rock Stars, 2006)