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July 23, 1998
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Welcome to the on-line journal that asks the age-old question: "Was it supposed to rain today?" The humidity was beastly by mid-morning and I was groggy from staying out just a shade past my pseudo-bedtime (I go to bed and then thrash and toss and turn for several hours before actually going to sleep) at the movies with Ned and Sarah and their friends Patty and John. I dragged my groggy greenhead bitten carcass to Starbucks and sat down with a grande latte and a newspaper. After a short while Tom arrived - just as I finished my latte - so I ordered another one. Tom and I sat there talking about The Connection show about the web cam phenomenon. Somehow from that we got to talking about Ned, always a popular topic with us. I said "Ned..." beginning a response to something Tom asked. Speak of the devil... Ned came in. He ordered his coffee and sat down at our table to chastise Tom for not coming to yesterday's poetry reading. By the time Ned got his coffee the heavens had opened up. It was pouring, raining buckets, raining cats and dogs, the deluge. Thunder crashed. Lightning flashed. The lights flickered several times ominously. We got talking about There's Something About Mary with Ned giving a detailed account of the Farelly Brothers' appearance on Letterman (or was it Leno?) which I'd decided not to watch last night even though Ned had alerted me to the Farelly Brothers' appearance. Tom began asking Ned questions about working with the Farelly's, working with Jonathan Richman, etc. and segued into other questions about working in Hollywood and Ned's life story etc. Tom is good at this, drawing people out, gently gettting them to reveal themselves. I am not. At some point in the conversation, however, Ned mentioned The Baltimores and I blurted out - quite awkwardly - a question that has been itching at me for some time. How come if the Baltimores were so well-liked and so musically influential they're not still in existence and performing? The simple answer: "We didn't make any money." I recounted having heard one of The Bobs on The Connection sometime last year talking about how The Baltimores and Ned had been a big influence on them. Ned seemed surprised and asked "Which Bob?" I said "I think it was Gunnar Bob." (Actually, now I think it might have been Joe Bob. I looked to see if there was a real audio archived copy of the show on the WBUR web site but it looks like I'll have to order a tape. Do I order a tape just to confirm which Bob it was so this journal will be 100% flawlessly accurate?) This led to a long Ned story about the one time he knew of when The Baltimores and The Bobs heard each other. Ned says bands in those days had to start with B. Somehow we got from The Bobs to horrible stories about living in California in the late '70's. Ned told a story about an axe murder that made my hair stand on end. (I've got to work it into my novel somehow. )
Before the conversation got too much weirder the rain stopped and we went our separate ways. Later this afternoon, I stopped by Star Market in North Reading for a few things. My first clue that some thing was wrong came as I struggled to push open what should have been an automatic door. Inside was dark and humid. A harpist in a long lime green gown sat by the front of the produce section playing to a nearly empty store. I walked around the aisles having a hard time finding anything in the dark. The refrigerated cases were all covered with thick plastic insulation. There was one light in the produce section and one cash register working - they must have an emergency generator. What few people were shopping tried to act like this was normal. The power had evidently been off for some time since the storm. Was it supposed to rain today? |
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