Blogging binge continues
Whelming. adv. Exactly as expected. Not good or bad. Sentence: Open-mic night was whelming.
So I went to open-mic night (which I spelled wrong in the last post. So embarassing since I pride myself on being/looking like a good speller) at Melt. And, the host aka "the black guy" gave me a special shoutout when I walked in. Melt has decided to enter the digital age, and were podcasting the open-mic night. I'm sure that will really get a lot of traffic, especially since I can't find it online, and we all know how good I am at googling. The audience was pretty similar to the crowd I saw yesterday. The performers were a few old men playing self-written songs on a guitar and "The Holy Man" as he is known reading Ginsburg poetry. My hopeful bff (the neurotic environmentalist from Cornell) didn't show, and other than the delightful, motherly bartender I was the only female. So after an hour I was like, let's go. (Plus the Bachelor was on).
I'm sure I'll go back. Board games and wine are some of my favorite things, and it's a wonderful place to go on a lazy Sunday. But I kind of am not sure if I belong there. Scratch that, I belong there, since anyone who wants to belong there can belong there. But sitting there, in this welcoming, warm environment watching these people pour their hearts and souls out, I felt like a detached, elitist anthropologist (which is not helped by the fact that I'm writing this down). Still being there made me happy because it's nice to know that i every city there must be places like this where anyone, no matter who they are, can have a place to gather and be with other people and perform and never have to be alone except for after 10pm on weeknights and midnight on weekends.
So I went to open-mic night (which I spelled wrong in the last post. So embarassing since I pride myself on being/looking like a good speller) at Melt. And, the host aka "the black guy" gave me a special shoutout when I walked in. Melt has decided to enter the digital age, and were podcasting the open-mic night. I'm sure that will really get a lot of traffic, especially since I can't find it online, and we all know how good I am at googling. The audience was pretty similar to the crowd I saw yesterday. The performers were a few old men playing self-written songs on a guitar and "The Holy Man" as he is known reading Ginsburg poetry. My hopeful bff (the neurotic environmentalist from Cornell) didn't show, and other than the delightful, motherly bartender I was the only female. So after an hour I was like, let's go. (Plus the Bachelor was on).
I'm sure I'll go back. Board games and wine are some of my favorite things, and it's a wonderful place to go on a lazy Sunday. But I kind of am not sure if I belong there. Scratch that, I belong there, since anyone who wants to belong there can belong there. But sitting there, in this welcoming, warm environment watching these people pour their hearts and souls out, I felt like a detached, elitist anthropologist (which is not helped by the fact that I'm writing this down). Still being there made me happy because it's nice to know that i every city there must be places like this where anyone, no matter who they are, can have a place to gather and be with other people and perform and never have to be alone except for after 10pm on weeknights and midnight on weekends.
posted by diana at 11:32 PM
2 Comments:
My friend tried to get me to go to open mic night here, which just happens to be at Sidewalk Cafe on Mondays. I was like, I'd rather likc razor blades.
And I love your vague Kelly ref. After five minutes, I was like...
no, I actually happened to catch part of open mic night at Sidewalk. Those people were ROCKSTARS compared to what I witnessed last night.
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