Marmalade Superlove is going to perform!
We’ve set a date, this Tuesday, June 16th, at The Great Northern.
Note: Previously I used initials to designate our members, but now that we’ve picked stage names, I’ll be using these:
D is now Dr. Stacks
M is now Scarletta
K is now Kleveland
I am now Sable
I’d been wanting to set our first open mic date for weeks. Now that it’s real, I feel like old white jeans in a washing machine stuffed with new red blankets — sure to come out alive but forever an exposed-organ pink.
We’re in a bit of a rush as Dr Stacks, our keyboardist, will be out of town for three weeks. If we don’t do it now, we’ll continue uninterrupted “our dreary little lives,” as drummer-girl, Scarletta, would say.
We had several options. (It still amazes me that our little valley is so ripe with venues for would-be bands. We had narrowed our choices down to The Packer’s Roost, The Craggy Range, and The Great Northern. A couple of us wanted The Packer’s Roost because it’s out in no-man’s land of Coram and has a rep with the kind of people we don’t hang with. We figured it would have little crossover into our real lives as music teacher, college professor, regular school teacher, and novelist. The risk would be minimized.)
This sounded good to me. We were in my garage, newly refurbed as a girl garage band haven. We’d just been through our three songs with mixed results from our three audience members. There was T, a non-band member friend who’d I’d invited over before I remembered we had GB practice. There was Dr. Stacks’ son, who was a great sport about the whole thing, especially considering some of our lyrics are not, well, appropriate for his age. Then there was MAG, miscellaneous alley guy, who walked by the open garage and gave us one of those rock-on hand symbols.
But then I said, “Let’s forget practicality for a minute. In your GB fantasies, where do you picture playing for the first time?”
Kleveland immediately. “The Northern. I’ve always wanted to play The Northern.”
Scarletta ducked her head and admitted that was her fantasy, too. Dr. Stacks agreed.
So The Northern it is. This Tuesday. That leaves me two days to practice — Day 1 of which I broke a string and will have to use up a good part of Day 2 driving to Kalispell to purchase a new one.
We still don’t have a drum set for poor Scarletta. And since she gets queasy when I mention beating on bowls and buckets, Kleveland has promised to work her musical network to get a drum set on stage.
We are also supposed to perform in our costumes, which we aren’t sure of yet. This will be the subject of the next entry, about which I’m brimming with things to say.
Listen in to the songs we’ll be doing.
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