For months I have been trying to get to
Today's New Activity: Open Mic at Cafe Trieste, er, Cafe Something Else Now
A few months back, my newly discovered friends at Outpost SJ broke it down for me on the local open mics. We collectively decided the vibe at Barefoot Coffee was less-than-friendly, and they told me that Philz had a cool but also perhaps cliquish feel to it. The perfect open mic, it seemed, took place at Cafe Trieste, which changed names just this week and I can't remember the new name of it. And you know, they were right about that.
Fittingly, I met my friend Kelsi there. I say fittingly because she used to be my bosom buddy at Cafecito, the golden standard of open mics, where there was enough love to spoil all the orphans of the world and then some. I hyperbolize, of course. But yes. There was much love.
Cafe Trieste (formerly) had a similar feel to it. There were a number of great musicians, and a SUPER talented beat boxer, and a couple of women with very nice voices. And there was love there as well. The listeners and performers were friendly and open, and I didn't get the sense that anybody there felt too cool for school. Good thing, too, because I'm old now. I can't stomach that sort of thing.
I didn't hear much in the way of spoken word (just the brief sharing of one journal entry from one woman), so I don't know if this would be a good place for me to share any writing, but maybe the variety would be welcomed. We'll see.
The best thing was having the chance to connect with Kelsi after a month without seeing her. We did a much-needed clearing of the air and came out better friends--yet-again--as a result.
I have to say that is one wonderful thing about old, enduring friendship. I know I will always be friends with Kelsi. So accordingly, I know we can weather any storm (or, in this case, minor drizzle) and come out stronger on the other end. And I know she will always be exactly who she is--the person I long ago met, understood, and accepted. It's good to really know somebody and know they really and truly know you back. Front and back. All around.
And I'm fully aware that it is my job alone to cajole her into singing again in front of the good folks at Cafe Trieste. As her consummate fan and forever groupie, I miss her voice and the power she had as a performer--the power to truly grab an audience and hold them tightly in her grasp. Just tell me when, Kels. I'll be there in the front row...