SXSW Music bonanza

Last week was South by Southwest, an insane ten days that starts with a film fest, a game convention, and a music festival. 1800 bands storming a city is best described as an industry conference. The musicians are here to learn from each other, meet agents, get signed, and get publicity.

Every day I got a good taste of music at lunch, which I spent popping in and out of bars to see what free line-up they had. At night, it was much of the same. More places charged admittance so I spent much of my time at the Blind Pig Pub. On top of the music, it was St. Patrick's Day. Though there are no parades like Chicago, I went to Fado for a U2 tribute band followed by a legitimate Irish band.

The week of music was capped by two shows. I stumbled upon a secret warm-up concert of Metallica. Me and a half-dozen bystanders watched them unload from their SUVs into a tour bus, then start rehearsals. One guy on the street ran over and brought us all signed guitar picks. Then I was front row for Erykah Badu at Auditorium Shores. Though she was an hour late and only played a few songs, it was great.

Monday I had gone to an improv show at Spider House, of people from local Cold Town Improv. It was followed by a very impressive, very funny show from two Chicago dudes, TJ and Dave. The documentary about them premeired at SXSW. Because my improv teacher Tom is their pal, I got to rub elbows with them and many other comedians after the show. Though I often feel like an outsider, Tom was the key to introducing me to a ton of people. I think he has unknowingly become one of my Texas ambassadors.

I tried to see one of Tom's improv shows, and that of another guy I met on Monday. Alas, it was cancelled. But Ellen, the Houstonite from work, and I stayed at the Hideout. The improvers were conversing in peak form. I'd give details, but most of the jokes were dirty and involved props.

Which leads to this week. Tom's roommate, who I met at the TJ and Dave show, invited me over for a dinner party. I thought about not going, but after several requests, I gave in. By the end of the night me, Tom, and another funny guy were sitting around playing accordions.

When everyone is a stranger, it leaves lots of room for recreating yourself. I find myself jumping into the unusual with little hesitation. Needless to say, playing in the accordion trio is the strangest moment I've had this year, so far.

Career Path

I'm back to a universe of collared shirts, toe-pinch shoes, and sub-humanist overhead lighting. That's right. The cubicle called to me; the paycheck gestured "Come hither."

Progress to date: The finance book is half-finished and due to the economy, temporarily shelved (bad pun, yay). I get a very small monthly income from E-how and have no time to write new articles. I'm trying to keep up with the Examiner.com, but writing the minimum three articles a week is an incredible time demand. It's too soon to say if the Examiner is financially worth it, and unless they get a print version in Chicago I'm not sure it's a resume boost either. Last week I 'auditioned' for Mortified. My usual stage fright has tempered with continued improv classes, but I was still very flustered. I won't know how it went for another month, I'm guessing not well, but at least I had the balls to try.

It was a sleepless week in Chicago for the AWP writer's conference. I was giddy to visit lectures, pick a school for my MFA, and bump shoulders with fellow wannabes. Then Monday came...

...And these past months where my schedule revolves around writing, dissolved from memory. I'm back to scheduling every hour of free time to ensure I write/journal/read every day. All this while maintaining my year's goal to do something or meet someone new every day.

The pressure to find each new adventure has left me feeling ballsy. I go to bars alone, I try things I've always been afraid of, I talk to strangers. Why don't more people do this? Why do we hesitate? Screw that whole fear of failure thing; it's time to start getting what we want by trying, failing, getting embarrassed, and never regretting that we didn't try.

Birthday Suit - this is a long one

"Your birthday suit needs a better tailor."

I rushed from the Amtrak station, showered, and took the bus to 6th street. The college kids were out in full swing. I jumped to an uncountable number of bars, sharing shots mostly with bartenders who comped me for my big day. At Dizzy Roosters they announced my birthday and strangers whooped as I jumped on the bar, grabbed a shot nestled on a high shelf, then ceremoniously signed the rafters. The bouncer asked for my number and in my buzzed state I obliged.

At the Velveeta Room, the second stage for Esther's Follies - what proud Austinites consider the best locale for improv comedy - I got a birthday comp entrance. Later I headed to Mohawks on Red River. The Mohawk was a complete change in vibe from the 6th street scene: UT shirts were traded for band tees, baseball caps became knitted beanies, jeans replaced with skinny pants, and sweatshirts were leather jackets. The band was rocking and I met up with one of my Craigslist contacts, Hans.

From there we headed east to a yuppy club. The seating was queen size beds, an uptight crowd, but it was the bartenders birthday too so he made me a few special cocktails. We headed next door to a hopping Jewish deli where I topped my night with chocolate milk, fudge blintzes, and fried pickles. It was my birthday after all.

Hans and I headed back to 6th to find a cab when the bouncer from the Rooster pulled up and offered us a ride. Hans and I weren't exactly on a date, but I was dropped off first and I can only imagine the awkward conversation between the two of them after I left.

Sunday I headed back to Esther's Follies because they were offering a free improv class. I am neither funny nor comfortable on stage, but I thought this would be a great experiment in overcoming my anxieties. I got on stage a few times in front of the 30 attendees, and I neither puked nor shook uncontrollably, both my normal responses. The teacher was IO and 2nd City alum, founder of Chicago's Annoyance Theater, Tom Booker. He called me out for my shyness and offered a few tips to remember: 1. If what you're doing has never been done before then it can't be a mistake 2. Don't be afraid to make a mistake. 3. Don't suck.

Later I went with another Craigslist contact to Ruby's BBQ, then to play pool. It was a good time, though all the question and answer stuff became a chore.

Tom Booker made another point about performance. Responding 'no' stops the flow but asking questions gets people stuck in their head. One solution is to make a statement to elicit a statement, responding each time with "Yes, and..." Next time I'm out with a new person I am going to ditch the Q&A and try the improv approach. I imagine it will go something like this:

ME: I write stories.
GUY: Yes, and I like to read stories.
ME: I like lamp.
GUY: Yes, and I too like lamp!