OK, so I was at the same bar again last night, here in Fresno, after seeing some Rogue Fest shows, once again hanging out with other Rogue staff and performers…
…when who walks in but the girl I described, and not necessarily favorably, at length in my previous post?
She saw me and smiled and walked right over. I said hello to her, by name, and she was flattered and impressed. She went on to tell me how excited she was for my show, and how she’s been telling all her friends about it, and was 8:00 early enough to show up, and was I serious about putting her on the guest list, and so forth.
She was really sweet and sincere, and, honestly, I exaggerated ever-so-slightly in my last post. Exaggerated by omission, but still. As she gushed about how much she was looking forward to my show I was thinking, “Must get to a wi-fi connection at once and delete that last blog post…”
But instead I’m leaving it up as a reminder that maybe I should be a bit careful in the future about posting things about people that I might run into again. Not that I want to bust on people or anything, but, well, I would just feel bad if her feelings were hurt. I know, I know…I’m sensitive. But why be a dick?
In other news, I got a call today telling me that my Aunt Ann died this morning. I visited her for the first time in years last fall, as I just had a feeling that I should reconnect with her. We weren’t really in touch regularly over the years, but I wouldn’t say that we were out of touch, either. I always knew that I could call up (or show up) at any time and it would be like I never left. In many ways she was like my mother, who died when I was young. In fact, I even lived with Aunt Ann for a year when I was 8 years old. This is my favorite picture of me and her family, probably circa 1968 or 69. That’s me in the upper right with my Dad’s arm around me, age 2 or 3. The cute one. Aunt Ann is on the far left.
And I use this picture in my “Jesus In Montana” show. The time I lived with Aunt Ann is an important part of the show, and I talk about it and refer back to it often.
And I have a show tonight – which just happens to be my 40th public performance of my show. And I’m 40. It rained for 40 days and nights, 40 years wandering in the wilderness, the 40-year-old virgin, “daddy wanna ‘foty” – the connections are eerie and endless, if you’re as easily impressed as I am.
As I sit here in the Fresno coffee shop, 4 hours to curtain, I’m realizing that tonight’s show is for Aunt Ann. It will be the absolute best show I’ve ever done.