Sunday, March 22, 2009

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy goated.

Black eyeliner. A mustache of champions. Brown slacks. An undeniable chemistry with his onstage female counterpart. Bald cap. Wait. Reverse, reverse, reverse.

Yesterday, Rebecca came over dripping in black and blonde. She was a bombshell and has been ever since she stepped foot on Canadian soil, and beside her I looked like a run down something. Haggard and flustered, dark and little bit scary, I moved around talking at the pace of a million demons while she uncorked her portion of our shared meal and I attempted to cook up mine. Carrots, sesame everything, green peppers and bite-sized tofu went flying and my cooking was ten times more wild than it usually is. Maybe it was because it was our first dinner after a very long hiatus, maybe it was something else. Either way, I was not there like Bob Dylan and slowly but surely I came back to her as she pulled and pulled at me with her intelligent conversation and her laughter. Back in my chair, eating the tofu that didn't land on the floor, we sipped wine and came back together again. Still a bit flustered, I remembered we were on a tight schedule and had to make it to Point B before the clock struck a certain hour. We left the dishes and the kitchen in a state of mass destruction and I dressed quickly. Old favorites: tuxedo shirt, no boyfriend jeans, brown yearround jacket, hair, lips, ready.

While I flew around the room looking for this and that and finally settling on no adornments, Rabbi was busy in the scary kitchen dumping our leftover wine into a MEC coffee traveller in preparation for our walk to the Pyramid. We walked, it is walking weather! Hallelujah, I never thought I would see the day. We walked, arm in arm, passing the wine mug back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It was just enough to keep our gloveless hands warm. We walked and finally whatever funk I was in dropped it like it's hot and I let out a teeny yip of excitement for Point B, portion two of our Rab/Madge date of the century. In that tiny window of release, I got so excited to see the man we had both been waiting so long to see.

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy came to town. He (Will Oldham) didn't even grace some of our fair country's major cities with his presence, and we learned as much while we waited in the familiar space of the Pyramid upon meeting a fellow who flew in from Ottawa just for the occasion. Thanks Bonnie, I owe you one. To enjoy his music is a bit of an acquired taste, but to hear someone and to watch someone who has played a pivotal role in my musical education (a la Yosh) over the years, to see and to watch him sing from a mere ten feet away was astounding. I was intoxicated by the music, by his eyes with the scary eyeliner that we wore well, by the seventeen glasses of wine, by my encounter in the bathroom with Christie and our clasping hands and hard embrace and strings of affirmation thrown back and forth until neither of us could breathe anymore, by the room itself. I have seen many, many shows inside those walls since I was a wee girl sporting the Dakine backpack holding steady the video camera glued to my tripping preteen palm. But, yesterday's show of Bonnie 'Prince' Billy took all of my past concert going history and threw it out the window. Will Oldham upped the ante.

Luke drove us home; two tired girls slumped together in the back seat of his millionaire car, both of us rendered breathless from the experience, from the encore and I was psyched because I had spent all my last dollars on vinyl at the show. One hundred percent worth every last taxi cab penny.

This morning I woke with the birds, the six in the morning birds chippity chirping and I went to my window to check, in shock. Walking weather AND birds chirping? Golly, I think winter broke! I woke, showered, called my brother and was picked up minutes later and dropped off at my second home. Kaleb opened the door in full fireman gear, screaming at the top of his lungs that Maiya got fatter and smoothies were on for breakfast. Dear Lord, what a long haired child, that one. I scooped up the fattest girl in the world from her swingy bed on the hardwood and hauled her in the direction of coffee. Baby on the hip, eating cold risotto out of the casserole dish listening to the laughter coming from different rooms. Kaleb and I chilled for a while until we both got bored of each other and I bathed Lady Maiya because she smelled like barf. Another day in the life of. Happy children and big cups of coffee and happy parents and a beautiful home and melting snow. We have a good life.

A truck driver. I looked like a run down truck driver beside Rebecca. And how.

ps: An update, apparently the mixture of my alcohol consumption mixed with my utter exhaustion was unwise. A girl at work said she tried to talk to me in the crowd in the middle of the show and I was sound asleep standing up. That was embarrassing. I also failed to notice that only ONE of Oldham's eyes was shrouded with eyeliner. Okay, I did drink three bottles of wine, but really; Rabbi is a bad influence. Still though, asleep standing up? C'mon. Sorry Bonnie, I owe you one.

1 comment:

  1. shutup. i love you, but shutup with this preposterous "truck driver" heresay. you were a vision that night. live it, know it.
    ps. what was that last song they played called?! i need to be married to it.