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Not having seen Alan for ages, possibly a year, he beat me home after tonight's chamber rehearsal. He was starving, so we collected the other inhabitants of the house and went to Katz's, which he seemed to find favorable, and then hung out a bit at home. I showed him some of the music we're doing in chamber choir, and we read a few lines of madrigal together, and we chatted. It has indeed been ages. Good to see him again. Hopefully I'll be able to get to the Chanticleer concert tomorrow night; we've been drastically irresponsible about the tickets and now we're begrudging the price, so we'll see.
Concert! After a full day of hanging out with Alan. He woke me up quite early in order to get coffee. He's a coffee snob, so we looked for the most pretentious place possible, and we ended up going to Inversion, which last I saw was an art installation of an imploded house on Montrose, and is now a corrugated-steel-exterior coffee shop with very high ceilings and an amorphous brown couch. Apparently the coffee wasn't good, but my mate latte was delicious. He was in need of some breakfast, skinny and easily-starved as he is, and asked me what was famous and good. The first thing that came to mind was the Breakfast Klub, since the line is always out the door, and he was into that. So, though I'd never been, we stood in the luckily quite swift-moving line and had our chicken and waffles, and were satisfied.
In order to keep sane and healthy on tour he's been looking at the various cities' YMCAs' pickup basketball games. And it turned out the the downtown Y here has lunchtime pickup games on Tuesdays. And he said he'd love it if I came (plus he'd be late if he took me home). So I went with him back to the hotel to get another Chanticleer guy who wanted to go, and out to the Y. First time I've been to a basketball court since I watched Ben play for Brown, back in the day. Apparently Alan's better than people expect him to be; one of the guys he played with came over to me and said "They didn't think he could play! They didn't think he could play! It was the beard, it threw them off." And he certainly does look somewhat Biblical these days. In any case, by stealth skill or not, his team won all three games, I think, and his hour of exercise was up.
We collected Matt, the other guy who went to work out, and went back to their hotel. Alan was somewhat scattered, and it took three tries up the elevator to get his room key to work. The first time he didn't realize he was using one from a previous hotel, so we went back to the car to get his hoodie where the right one was; the second time the door wouldn't take it for some reason, so we went back down to the front desk, where there were now other people waiting for service. He said he would have had a meltdown if I hadn't been there, so I suppose it was just as well we weren't in a hurry. He had time to be astonished I don't like most Bach, listen to some Brahms, tell some stories, and shower. Then he was extra-scattered because, again, he was hungry. And indecisive about what to eat because he was scattered.
I mentioned we'd recently acquired an all-local and organic burger joint, and those buzzwords apparently overpowered what other vague preferences he might have had for any of the other choices on the list I'd recited. So I directed him to Jerry Built and we had a deep philosophical and personal lunch. He hesitated on the way out of the car into the building and looked like he might fall over, saying he needed to lean on somebody, so he was legitimately stressed and it was exacerbated by hunger, and the meal was a partial relief. He was still tired and out of sorts when he'd eaten, though, so he went back to rest after dropping me home.
He seemed to be better by the show! It was a grand show. And Tom and Andrea sat right next to us! Let us see, ( the program. )
We went to the lobby to see Alan after the show and it turns out they have a dinner after their post-show meet-greet, so, though he wanted to go to Anvil, it won't be tonight. And it's pretty late now (we walked home), so I suppose we'll hang more tomorrow before or during or after their St Thomas master class. What an odd piece of friendship, in small isolated chunks over the course of eight years. It works, though.
In order to keep sane and healthy on tour he's been looking at the various cities' YMCAs' pickup basketball games. And it turned out the the downtown Y here has lunchtime pickup games on Tuesdays. And he said he'd love it if I came (plus he'd be late if he took me home). So I went with him back to the hotel to get another Chanticleer guy who wanted to go, and out to the Y. First time I've been to a basketball court since I watched Ben play for Brown, back in the day. Apparently Alan's better than people expect him to be; one of the guys he played with came over to me and said "They didn't think he could play! They didn't think he could play! It was the beard, it threw them off." And he certainly does look somewhat Biblical these days. In any case, by stealth skill or not, his team won all three games, I think, and his hour of exercise was up.
We collected Matt, the other guy who went to work out, and went back to their hotel. Alan was somewhat scattered, and it took three tries up the elevator to get his room key to work. The first time he didn't realize he was using one from a previous hotel, so we went back to the car to get his hoodie where the right one was; the second time the door wouldn't take it for some reason, so we went back down to the front desk, where there were now other people waiting for service. He said he would have had a meltdown if I hadn't been there, so I suppose it was just as well we weren't in a hurry. He had time to be astonished I don't like most Bach, listen to some Brahms, tell some stories, and shower. Then he was extra-scattered because, again, he was hungry. And indecisive about what to eat because he was scattered.
I mentioned we'd recently acquired an all-local and organic burger joint, and those buzzwords apparently overpowered what other vague preferences he might have had for any of the other choices on the list I'd recited. So I directed him to Jerry Built and we had a deep philosophical and personal lunch. He hesitated on the way out of the car into the building and looked like he might fall over, saying he needed to lean on somebody, so he was legitimately stressed and it was exacerbated by hunger, and the meal was a partial relief. He was still tired and out of sorts when he'd eaten, though, so he went back to rest after dropping me home.
He seemed to be better by the show! It was a grand show. And Tom and Andrea sat right next to us! Let us see, ( the program. )
We went to the lobby to see Alan after the show and it turns out they have a dinner after their post-show meet-greet, so, though he wanted to go to Anvil, it won't be tonight. And it's pretty late now (we walked home), so I suppose we'll hang more tomorrow before or during or after their St Thomas master class. What an odd piece of friendship, in small isolated chunks over the course of eight years. It works, though.
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