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Volunteer Park
Sunday, July 12, 1998 Friday I go on a date with a married ( I swear I didn't know ) man, and Saturday I soar with the eagles and inaugurate a new journal feature. So get caught up, you folks that only read the latest entry.
This morning I needed to buy the book for my book club meeting tomorrow evening. It's a good thing that there are several used and new bookstores in my neighborhood! My first stop was at Horizon Books, which is in a little house cram-full of books. I asked the woman working there to look up "The Woman Warrior" for me, since I had forgotten the author's name (Maxine Hong Kingston) in the time between leaving the house and arriving there. She found it (she actually used a hardbound reference book! not a CD-ROM!) but they didn't have a copy, so after buying two P.G. Wodehouse novels, I walked up one block and across the street to a shop that I forget the name of. They didn't have it either, so I headed down the hill to Broadway. I was going to buy the book new at Bailey-Coy, then I remembered that Twice-Sold Tales would certainly have it. I was surprised that my previous two efforts hadn't found the book, since it was a big best seller when it first came out in the seventies, and has been reprinted numerous times. It was a good day for walking: cloudy, but mild and breezy. I was bare-legged in one of my short, rayon-print dresses, and the wind blew around my legs -- a novel sensation; usually I'm wearing hose when I go out dancing in one of these outfits. Twice-Sold Tales did have the book, and I helped myself to some romance novels as well. I retraced my steps to the Magic Dragon fast-food chinese place, since I wanted more vegetables for my lunch than a burger and fries would provide. I got my "magic platter" of rice, honey-sesame chicken, and broccoli beef to go, and set off walking towards Volunteer Park.
I was going to a concert put on by Seattle Peace Concerts. This isn't the kind of thing I would normally go to, but Joe Ross had told me the other night that his band, the Green Pajamas, would be playing. I've never heard the band live, but I've enjoyed the CDs I have from them, so going to the concert seemed like the right thing to do. I walked up the hill into the park, approaching from behind the stage. I saw Joe's van, but didn't go over to find him. I didn't want to disturb him before the performance. So I found a place on the lawn in front of the stage, which was moderately populated with audience members. (Note: despite the quote above, from Mansfield Park, my least favorite Austen novel, I wasn't sitting in the shade.) While various bands played, unknown to me, I ate my lunch and started in on the book. It was a mellow scene, with dogs (mostly leashed, thanks!) chewing on sticks and sniffing each other, toddlers dancing, and young hippy revival girls in velvet bras and long skirts embracing each other. I was amused when I turned around a short while later, and saw that Joe was sitting in a relaxed fashion a few feet away on the lawn, with "Hep" Jen and a few other folks. So much for the performer having to concentrate before the show! So I walked over and joined them. After a time Joe went to put together a set list, and Holly, Zola, and Dan Ross and Dave Gray arrived. We discussed the dance happenings of the previous two nights, and the amazing growth of the local swing dance scene. (I dislike it that I always have to specify "swing dance" but the word "swing" on its own has been coopted by alternative sexual lifestyles.) Finally the Green Pajamas performed. Some of the songs were new, and some were old. They are a band born in the psychedelic revival of the early eighties, but I'd call their sound eclectic these days. I enjoyed it! I went down backstage after their show, and bought the CD that I didn't have yet: Strung Behind the Sun, from Camera Obscura, an Australian label. So now I have all of the band's CDs. There are tapes I could get, but I don't have as much chance to play tapes.
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