A couple dozen people passed through last night.
I discovered that Brian took 11 years of piano lessons, and has a black belt in tae kwon do. I confirmed that Haymarket is the heart of attendance on many of the co-op-wide activities I plan, perhaps in part because I can berate them over kitchen chats. I concocted a white chili, set up a help-yourself scrabble game where players could come and go, and found out that a kazoo made out of a paper towel tube can sound pretty excellent in a jazzy jam session.
Personally I trotted out the old clarinet, got tipsy enough to do some improv vocals, and was particularly delighted to hear how well Cat's Cradle, Chapter 33, fit into the melody of Scarborough Fair. Thank you to Colin for co-vocals, and Brian and Rachael for musical arrangement. (They also were my orchestra for reading the flavors of jelly bellys and a suprisingly successful beatnik interpretation of an extract of an article on Obama's drug experience.)
And, erm, the guy who was tearing it up on the bongos gave me his CARD.
I love our basement on a Saturday night.
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tales from life in a co-op
under our roof
a glassblowing alternajournalist, a musical storytelling anarcho-baptist, a capoeira-playing engineer, a renaissance physicist, a scrabble champion math teacher, a neurobiologist philosopher, a filmmaker documenting the deadliest man alive, an international flutist biologist, a journalist animator baker, a hiking biking banjo-strumming math teacher, a singing bilingual editing, a backgammon playing sex therapist, a novel-writing psych nurse guitarthlete, a pensive epistilary collage artist & two cats.