once an hour i light the flower and burn baby burn. it's difficult to be a wannabe performance artist. very difficult. even with all the talent in the world you need some luck. somebody who notices you at just the right moment in time. someone who believes in you and can see that you are right for super stardom. someone who can see through the mediocre sound system, the apathetic crowd and the terrible wardrobe. you need someone who will give you your shot in the dark. talent and luck, you need both if you're gonna make it big. so why are some people forgetting that you need the talent before the luck comes? shit.



last night was the debut of gene kim on the big stage. he was large and in charge. the lighting was very impressive, the crowd was receptive. he had his hair style going on. gene was kinda nice. and people were feeling him i think. at least they gobbled up the free CDs we were handing out afterwards. (side note: girls actually take stuff from you when it's offered, like a reflex. might this strategy work with non-promotional items? to be researched later.) i like pimping out my friends. it's so much easier to be gregarious and stupid when you are trying to get attention for your friend. the index finger pointing action followed by the "it's him! it's him! it's dave's son!" yelling tends to draw attention well and elicit moans of embarassment from said friend. even if the method is tired and cliche. and annoying for others.



but seriously. some of the people up on stage. i could of cried. do you ever get that painful feeling watching someone just be totally suck? man. i can't even look up. it's painful to watch. it's almost as bad as being embarassing yourself. i mean, let it all hang out there but dude, stop it! the worst was when a "spoken word poet" (and i use the description only because that's what he called himself) came out and read two pieces from his book. it was the most terrible thing i've ever heard recited. the definition of poetry is broad but it's not that broad. and spoken word is partly about the performance of the artist, but that does not mean just shake your head and make dramatic pauses. and when he busted out his flute (an instrument i have an affinity towards) i just about died. and then when the celine dion background music cued in? i thought i would melt into a puddle of shame. and i didn't even know the guy! strangely, i think my talents and skills are tailor made to be a terrible spoken word poet and flautist. this is the cross that i must carry. i am a flautist. and sometimes i write poetry. but i don't do it on stage for god sakes!



future generations will thank me for my restraint. if not the current ones.