Adventures In Secretions  Dan is a man who takes his business as seriously as his women. At the age of 78, he shows no sign of slowing down. Kevin was brought on board as a junior executive in 1998 when the Secretions were in the midst of restructuring. Not daunted by an organization in transition, Kevin quickly proved his value as a team player as well as an innovator. Co-founder and Financial Officer Mickie Rat has been with the Secretions since the beginning, back in 1991. He prides himself on having a handle on the market as much as his back swing on the green. Download images and audio and see why the Secretions is the best solution for your enterprise! The Secretions owes much of its innovation and financial success to many others across the internet. Without these corporate entities, the Secretions wouldn't be to offer the viable commodities it does today! To know where we're going, it's important to see where we've been. Have a look at our past accomplishments and envision what growth will come in the future! So easy to use, no wonder it's number 1! Blogger offers its users the latest in personal online publishing technology. We're happy to support and be affiliated with this fantastic online service. We Haven't Sold Out -- We've Bought In The Secretions weblog is the least updated part of our site. Check here for upcoming shows, bizarre band stories from recent shows, and the day-to-day ramblings of the three band members. Wednesday, March 12, 2003 ...and now, a million years later, I actually update this frelling thing. I have good cause, because I am finally booking us a tour! Well not really finally, because I have booked us a tour before, but that was in 2000. I booked the first show today, which is going to be on June 20th at Arkaik in Reno. That is technically the last show of our tour. Here is where we are trying to go on our tour: June 6 -- LOS ANGELESJune 7 -- TUCSONJune 8 -- NOGALES, MEXICOJune 9 -- EL PASOJune 10 -- DALLASJune 11 -- AUSTINJune 12 --HOUSTONJune 13 -- NEW ORLEANSJune 14 -- FAYETTEVILLE, ARJune 15 -- OKLAHOMA CITYJune 17 -- ALBEQUERQUEJune 18 -- DENVERJune 19 -- SLC/PROVOJune 20 -- RENOIf anyone reading this happens to have connections in any of those towns, please email me. I am kinda starting from scratch in booking this tour, and I kinda suck at booking tours, so I need lots of help. I do have some connections, like in Mexico and Arizona and Reno and possibly New Orleans, so it's not all bad. I have a good feeling about this particular tour, I don't know why. Part of it might be that Kepi routed this entire tour for us. I was hanging out with him a few days ago, saying how I wanted to go to New Orleans on our tour but I couldn't figure out how to get there and back in two weeks. He admitted that he was a tour routing genius and whipped out the atlas, and in less than five minutes, he mapped out the route that I listed above. It inspired me so much that I have already started booking. If all goes well, we will be playing in New Orleans, in the French Quarter, on Decatur Street, on Friday the 13th of June! Oooh, creepy! Maybe we'll even see some extra creepy voodoo curses while we are there! This time around, I am not leaving until I see at least one cemetery! I'm excited, and I hope this goes well. If things happen the way I hope they will, and this might be a pretty big if, a week after we get back from our tour, we might be playing on the eight U.S. west coast dates of the Vans Warped Tour! Even if that doesn't happen though, I won't be mad because at least I will have been to New Orleans this year. I don't know why I'm so obsessed with going back there. Ever since I went there with my old band the Phlegmings in 1995, I have been dying to go back. I had such an interesting time there, and we were only there for two days! I love that place. I even went as far as to get a city map of the Big Easy and put it up on my wall. I'm gonna know the streets like my own hometown by the time we get there! Anyway, it's gonna be cool this summer no matter what, because I'm finally gonna get to hit the road like I always wanted to with this band. I'm gonna go to bed now, because I'm really fucking drunk. Yay tour! posted by Mickie Rat at 3:03 AM Thursday, November 28, 2002 Okay, wow, I'm finally updating this thing! I'm bored and full of Thanksgiving pie right now, so all I can do is sit here and write. I brought the Alive and kicking home to show my mom, and she immediately said "Well, that's not a picture that your mother would really be proud of." And of course I whined "But mom, it was for Halloween! We're made up like Zombies cuz it's a Halloween themed cover!" She was just kidding though, she really loved it. I also gave her a copy of the new Groovie Ghoulies/Secretions split 7 inch, "Til Death Do Us Party." We just got our copies a few days ago. The cover is so cool, it's in full color. The marbly black "tombstone vinyl" is cool too. You can order your copy here. If that wasn't enough to be excited about, we have our Boardwalk show on January 7th coming up. We get to play with Marky Ramone's new band again, but this time it is going to be at a cool all ages place instead of that creepy dive bar that I won't mention here. Marky Was so cool to us last time, he hung out with us after the show and let us take pictures with him. He also signed my leather jacket "Marky Ramone 2001." I think I'll just get him to update it this time by adding a "2002" to it! Plus, that show is going to be even cooler because we get to play with the legendary LA punk band D.I. if you want to check them out, go rent Suburbia, they are the band that plays the song "Richard Hung Himself" at the punk warehouse club. That is gonna be a really fun show, and I will be twice as hyper and excited as I normally am (which could be dangerous) and I will probably end up breaking something. Hopefully it won't be one of my own bones. Be there dammit! oh, and one more thing that's cool, our website is linked on Marky Ramone's links page! Woohoo! posted by Mickie Rat at 6:48 PM Saturday, October 05, 2002 Something weird and wonderful happened today. Secretions finally made it on the cover of a magazine. It's a local music magazine called Alive & Kicking, and it's only available in the Sacramento area and surrounding counties, but it's still pretty cool. I'm not getting a big head about it, I know that in the worldly scheme of things, or even in the national scheme of things, it doesn't really mean a whole lot, but it's still nice to be noticed. Nothing like this has ever happened to any of the bands I have been in before, and I am enjoying it. I am fully aware that there are many people who don't really care, and I am not going to try and stop them from doing so. I will admit that doing the interview was a lot of fun for me, and reading it is even more fun, and I hope that those who do care enjoy reading it as much as I did. For the aforementioned folks, you can pick up this newspaper 'zine style thingie at local Sacramento coffeeshops or music venues. The basic premise of the interview was setting the three Secretions loose in a run down drive-in movie theater with a bad movie and twenty five pounds of candy, all in the spirit of Halloween. Antics ensue. It is the October issue, so we figured to get in the spirit of things, we would dress up like zombies and take some photos to be used somewhere in the interview. Our friend Justin Pine, who is going to Tom Savini's monster makeup school, helped turn us into the zombies that now grace the cover of issue number 90 (October!) of Alive & Kicking. In addition to being a fun and crazy thing to do at the drive in, this interview celebrates the fact that we have a new 7 inch vinyl record coming out on Springman, which is a split single with our friends and mentors, the Groovie Ghoulies. They are both songs that have been released before, but we just wanted to do it for fun. Both the interview and the record are wonderful things for me that I never thought would happen, so right now I am happy. Today we got on the cover of A&K. Today was a good day. posted by Mickie Rat at 2:00 AM Wednesday, October 02, 2002 It's been two days since I got back from Hawaii, and I miss it already. The kids in Hawaii are very sweet and keep emailing us, asking when we will come back again. The Friday show was a lot of fun. It was at a coffee shop called the Coffee Factory in Honolulu. That place was cool, it was only five bucks to get in, and they had "punk rock" prices for soda, coffee, and even fifty cent Mega Jolt! About forty kids showed up. Dave apologized and said it was not a good showing of the scene, due to another punk show going on the same night at the Pink Cadillac in Waikiki, where we were playing the next night. We didn't really care, cuz hey, we're playing a show in Hawaii dammit! The first band to play was the Tanner Boyle Quartet, with our gracious host Dave Noodle on guitar. They were very energetic and fun, and their singer Lyle was like an Asian Iggy Pop, writhing around, screaming, and attacking audience members mercilessly. I came in just as they were in the middle of their set, and Lyle singled me out for a serenade while the band was raging on behind him. he looked me straight in the eye, and grabbed my crotch, gave it a good squeeze, and sauntered off. I didn't even flinch, and I would have thanked him if the music wasn't so damn loud. I wandered in and out during the break, and during the next band, Black Square, and talked to some of the locals at the show. Most of them seemed to be young college kids who have moved to Honolulu from all over. A guy named Pete told me that his parents told him he could go anywhere he wanted for college, so he picked Hawaii. Pretty clever. Nevermind that pesky Yale or Harvard, let's go to the beach! Anyway, Black Square was good, they reminded me of an East Bay band with their clever songwriting and dynamic stage presence. It was around the middle of Black Square's set that we realized how drunk Kevin was. We had been drinking at Dave's house for a few hours before the show, and we just kind of kept drinking in the parking lot during the show. It was pretty easy because all the friendly kids at the show just kept handing us beers. Those friendly Hawaiians! I had about five beers and Kevin had put away seven before we played, which is kind of a record for him! Danny made him drink a bunch of water before we played, so he was okay. I think he actually played better! I know I do when I am a bit more "relaxed." Secretions were up after Black Square, and it took us a while to get set up, because we were borrowing amps. We just brought our guitars and a snare drum for our Hawaii shows, due to weight limits on the plane. The bands at both of the shows were really super cool to lend us their stuff. That night I used a single fifteen inch cabinet with a really decent head, I can't remember what kind it was though. I couldn't really get a good fuzz sound through it like I could on my Ampeg, but it was fine because my Rickenbacker sounds good on anything, fuzzy or not. Kevin used a Marshall half stack, so he sounded great. We blasted through our set as usual without any problems. Fortunately Kevin and I were not "relaxed" to the point that we were playing bad. I actually think we did a little bit better than usual. Some of the kids watched us, and some just wandered off, probably in search of more beer. Most of them were actually inside though, which means they still liked us, even if they weren't paying full attention. One kid with spiky red hair, who I dubbed Yu-Gi-Oh! due to the similarity in hairstyle, was extra obnoxious and decided he was going to run into everyone in the room. It was cute, but it looked painful for the bystanders. The crowd seemed to like us a lot, and a few kids told us that they would come to our show the next day in Waikiki. The band that played after us was called Mindless Rebellion. They played the good old school type hardcore that we used to have a lot of here in Sacramento. Unfortunately most of the kids left after we played, so there was only a handful of people left to see them. Their drummer kicked ass, he was really good, and really fast. Danny ended up talking to him after the show for a while, and he said the whole band was thinking of moving to Portland. I think Portland would be a great place for them, they would be more appreciated there. All of the bands were really cool, they told Dave that it was cool if he gave us all the money from the door to cover our cost of flying out. It was a great night. Saturday we got up and had breakfast at the coffee shop right next to Dave's apartment building. I had my usual of a garlic bagel with peanut butter and Danny had a huge waffle with tons of fresh strawberries piled on top. Danny claims it was "a waffle so good, it would put the True Love Caf?ut of business." Good thing it's in Hawaii eh? After that, Lory Danny and I headed out to the Aloha Bowl, where they have a huge swap meet in the endlessly looping parking lot every Saturday. It's actually less of a swap meet and more of a mini-mall, but they do have a section where there is cool garage sale type of stuff. It is hotter than hell out there though, so we only lasted about two and a half hours, or was it two and a half laps around the parking lot? I got a cool weird army surplus mosquito netting jacket, and Lory got a cheap back scratcher and a five dollar sarong. Danny got a hat that said "I Got Lei'd In Hawaii!" After hours of trudging around at the hottest Swap Meet ever, we decided to go visit our friend Otto, who works at the Honolulu Academy Of Arts. He is a server in the Pavilion Caf?a really nice restaurant that sits right in the middle of all the exhibit galleries. Lory and I got a couple of ten dollar salads, and Danny got a twelve dollar sirloin burger. Everything was delicious beyond belief. Normally we would not be eating so well on tour, but Otto got us a huge discount, meaning it was free, so we managed to afford it. After our insanely satisfying meal, it was time to go home and get ready for the show at the Pink Cadillac. The Pink Cadillac is right near Waikiki beach on Oahu. It is a fairly normal looking bar above a strip mall, right next to a 7-11. It is a weird sort of situation, being that it is a bar that also does all ages shows. They have a dance floor that they rope off for the kids to hang out in, and a separate section for the over 21 crowd. We got there, and were surprised to see that all the kids who said they would go to our show the night before were there! We lugged our stuff upstairs and hung out for a while. I ran into the drummer and the guitarist from Mindless Rebellion. They asked me if I could help them polish off a really big bottle of Jim Beam that they had lying around, so we found an appropriate spot behind a dumpster in the alley behind the 7-11 and had a whole lot of Jim and Coca-Cola. I told them all about our adventures in Portland, and how it would be a cool place for them to move to. Somehow I managed to cut myself off from the Jimmy Coke just in time to not be totally obliterated for our set. At last it was time for the first band, Buckshot Shorty, to start playing. We were pretty amazed by the fact that by the time they played, there were 200 kids at the show. We knew it was going to be a great night. I'm no rock critic, so I can't come up with any fabulous Lester Bangs-style adjectives to describe Buckshot Shorty, but they were good. They got the kids all good and excited for our set. Their bass player was kind enough to lend me his Gallien Krueger double fifteen stack for our set, so I was really happy. I think Kevin used a Peavey half stack that night, which he said sounded better than the Marshall the night before. I was having a bit of trouble getting my stuff ready because I had a minor case of the whiskey stumbles, but I managed to get ready in time to play. Up front, all the kids were getting ready to rock as well. One especially large Islander kid, who introduced himself to me as Charles, was really excited to see us play. I was thinking about how crazy the crowd was for Buckshot Shorty, and had visions of getting my teeth knocked out with the mic stand Billie Joe style. I've had several teeth chipped over the years from especially enthusiastic kids in the pit accidentally knocking the microphone into my mouth during our set. I'm not complaining, it's all part of the fun of punk rock, as everyone knows. Battle wounds can be cool, something to compare when you're trying to outpunk your friends, but after ten years of playing punk rock, I'm rapidly running out of good teeth, so I have to be careful in my old age. Suddenly, in my whisky-induced stupor, I had an idea. I tapped Charles on the shoulder and promised him a free extra large Secretions T-shirt if he kept me from getting my mouth busted open by the mic stand. As soon as we started our set, the kids went nuts. Luckily Charles was there to save my teeth. We played mostly songs from our new CD, SECRETIONS TIL DEATH, and threw in a few covers. We played a Misfits song (Bullet) and the kids loved it, but when we played Ace Of Spades by Motorhead the crowd got even crazier. It was the kind of show that we always want every show to be like, where everyone is having fun, jumping around, not fighting, and generally being really cool. Everyone seemed to really enjoy us and wanted us to come back soon. The Sticklers played after us, and they were a great and a lot of fun as usual. This was their last show before breaking up for good, and all the kids showed their support by singing along with every song as loud as they could. I jumped up to sing their cover of Joan Jett's I Love Rock & Roll with Dave, as did about five other kids! It was a sweaty mess of fun, and everyone was happy and tired afterwards, as they should be after a good punk rock show. We hung around for a while after the show, selling records and taking pictures with some of the local kids. We put our stuff away and went downstairs to say goodbye to Buckshot Shorty and figure out what to do for the rest of the night. It was decided that our activities would mostly involve beer, and some other kind of activity, possibly running around on the beaches of Waikiki. We hung out in the parking lot for a really long time, not really wanting to leave, because we knew it was our last day in Hawaii. I was hungry, so I tried some prepackaged sushi cones from the 7-11 next door. They were actually really good, which is surprising for convenience store food in general, nevermind sushi. We talked to a bunch of the local kids for a while, and then went to get more beer. We ended up not going to the beach because we were all really tired from the show, so we ended up passing out on Dave's floor while watching old 80s videos on cable. Yes, I know it's an anticlimactic end to an adventurous weekend, but that's how life goes sometimes. I think we got maybe four hours of sleep before having to get up to go to the airport to go home, but we slept plenty on the four and a half hour plane ride home. One of the coolest parts about leaving Hawaii is looking out at Waikiki as you soar away from the Honolulu Airport. I actually was able to find Dave's apartment building as we cruised away from the island! He only lives about six blocks from Waikiki, so it was pretty easy. The Hawaii trip was a total success. It was tons of fun, plus we covered our costs totally, and that almost never happens on tour for us! I can't wait until we go back. posted by Mickie Rat at 10:51 PM Wednesday, July 31, 2002 Mickie Rat here! Yeah, I'm still working on the Warped Tour adventure piece, sorry, but you all know what a procrastinator I am. I've also been busy working on the van, getting Andre 2, our beloved green 1977 Plymouth van ready for our trip up to Washington next week. Anybody know where to get new van tires for cheap? We are playing two new towns in Washington, Everett and Bellingham. Ah great, another adventure I have to write up! I'm hoping it will be awesome. I hope I will see all of you hardcore Secretions fans out at the Groovie Ghoulies show in Cesar Chavez Park this Friday, I will be there, flyering for our August 24th show with the MR. T. EXPERIENCE!!! Sorry, I know I'm yelling, but have I already said fifty times how excited I am to finally be playing a show with this band? Well, I am. It's one of those things to check off the "List Of Things To Do Before I Die." I am also excited about playing with the Manges on September 6. The Manges are coming here from Italy, they play cool Ramonesy punk rock and they even do a cover of the Goonies song! Jughead from Screeching Weasel is being a pal and playing second guitar for them while they are on tour in America. It's gonna be a fun show. So there's an update for yah! If yo

Found notebook entry, January 2001
Speak as if your life depended on it. Speak as if you were the tablet of stone, the fire-breathing dragon dispatched to explain the new ideas. Speak as if you weren't even the person at the table who, after splashing the water pitcher about, went on to make a ruckus in the next room. Speak as if you were going to kill yourself. Don't cry for me. Speak up! Speak as if you were you, you were you intentionally, and then you fired up another record that was so overbearing everybody leaves. Speak as if you were funny once. Speak as if you were to tell the story again. Speak as if your secrets were uninteresting. Speak after eating onions, your breath full of sour air. Speak on the steel of your desk, standing triumphantly in a Napoleon pose. Speak titles of books you haven't read. Speak mistakes. Speak wrong. Speak in a duet with late-career country divas. Speak in a solo, alone at a piano, and talk about your harried life. Speak at the 7-11, and heckle the arcade game players. Speak into a microphone at Little League games, making fun of each boy's swing. Speak into the milk bottle that's half empty, smelling the acrid liquids you've drunk since you were one. Speak killing words, words that incise the air. Speak words, mutherfucker. Speak fuck. Speak shit. Shit pussy fuck shit bitch. Speak a lot of shit. Speak nonsense. Speak phonemes that are lethal when only combined in a certain way, in a certain town, in a certain mannerism. Speak songs that are so overbearing poets will look at them and say, "Why does he speak that way?" Speak questions into the microphone, little bequeathed questions, like, "Hey Why do you speak like that?" Speak speak speak! Speak because you know the world. Speak because you know me, the guy who wipes down your car and shuffles a few questions to make you feel comfortable that a grown man wipes your own ass. Speak with distinction, then speak with vulgarity. Speak with a version of vulgarity no one's ever heard before. Speak the language of vulgarians, the only true poets. Speak down to the condescenders, the rich ones, shoot their kneecaps. Speak up to those who don't think they speak poetry, but do. Speak in clicks that challenge your own peace of mind, your own equilibrium. Speak by chance to an old friend, an old  Cocks lover. Speak while you choose to not answer the knocking at your door. Speak as if you were not going to heed the warning of you neighbors. Speak as if you don't have neighbors. Speak. Speak in a shuffle around a sweet spot on your instrument, trill around it awhile, then stretch out to the boundaries that bother you. Speak off-key. Speak as if you were singing off-key intentionally to a hymn at mass. Speak loudly. Speak softly. Speak as if the words were to fly off the page, then never be seen again, ever. Speak like you were glad about this. Speak so gladly about this that you repeat, again, those disposable words, until they get shellaced sheen, preserving them. Speak as if you know the words you speak are already debunked and thought of as declasse. Speak because you're not allowed, really, to speak. Speak into the microphone. Speak into the megaphone. Speak up girl's skirts. Speak up my ass. Speak up your ass. Speak uncomfortably, then recline in a deep couch. Speak until your jaw is sore. Speak until your dick or pussy is sore. Speak until your tongue takes on a red aspect, frightening you in the mirror the next morning. Speak as if you were typing. Speak with distinction. Speak with disuinion in mind. Speak only in flashbacks. Speak that way because it lends authority to your story. Speak with authority. Speak with authority because your delivery, now in flashback, has a tall tale quality, and thus silence those incapable of tall tale. Speak until you reach the end of the room. Speak until meek women come up and ask you to be quiet. Speak until touch women with cigarettes try to make you speak louder. Speak so boys will think you're weird. Speak so you'll wanna party all night and rock and roll every day. Speak speak speak. Speak about the girls you fucked, the ones you want to fuck, today. Speak about fucking. Speak about the idea of fucking someone in public. Speak in public about the idea of fucking someone in public. Speak as if the person next door will fuck you. Speak and then fuck someone. Speak and then act. Speak about all the books you're forgotten after reading them. Speak about book you haven't read, but with authority. Speak gossip to people who care not to hear it. Speak philosophy to those who would rather hear gossip. Speak overbearingly. Speak with a toothpick hanging out of your mouth. Speak with a big dick hanging out of your mouth. Speak with a pussy hair hanging out of your mouth. Speak with your own tongue hanging out of your mouth. Speak into the silence. Speak into the wind. Speak out the window of your house, but only softy, taking in the wind, the outdoors, then quickly go back inside. Speak as if your plug was in a socket. Speak as if you were a crooner in a cover band. Speak totally ignorant of what you are saying. Speak in imitation of your mom. Speak in imitation of your dad. Speak flashbacks of someone else. Speak in wrong syntax, for example verbs first, and let everyone figure it out. Speak. Speak. Speak.

first of all i would like to congratulate my big sis for passing her germs to moi, so thank you, now i'm sick too. i hate being sick. it's at the top of my 'most hated' list. i hate the headache, the sorethroat and runny nose. it gets even worse for people with sinus like me. i'm feeling reeeaally agitated right now beacuse of the loose pipe in my nose that's causing an ever-flowing river of mucus. if it had happened to my sister, i would have thought it'd be cool. but since i'm the one suffering right now, i am having one heck of a time trying to calm myself down and relentlessly stuffing tissues up my nose.

oh...hold on.....aaah-ah-ah-ah-CHOOOO!!!! *shorry*

okay, give me time to clean up my mess a bit...okay, i'm fine now. at least before the next sneeze comes and the river nile-mucus flos again.

a bit of an update on my current life:

1. i've not done any of my homework (is that SURPRISING?)
2. i've upgraded myself to a SUPREME-COUCH-POTATO and ELITE-NET-SURFER
3. i'm bored to death listening to the songs on the radio. i dunno why, but they keep playing jessica simpson's songs which 'takes my breath away' and leave me on the verge of death.
4. thank god, i'm going to KL next week and hopefully buy more shirts from Derbenham, which is my favourite store if you must know...
5. total internal reflection is the phenomena when a ray of light entering a less dense medium from an optically denser medium is internally reflected as the angle of incidence in the denser medium is larger than the critical angle. (hehe....i'm sooooo conceited!!!)

oh yeah, and i've also been surfing through some of the blogs and found some really weird ones...there's one by some Parti KeAdilan Malaysia guy writing about politics which i found really "enlightening" and i am now trying to search for BN's and PAS's blogs. i hope PAP don't get ideas from this one and start a blog too. but my current favourite is by this girl bunny tsunami or something who's featured in the favourites section. her's is really a good read, and well worth my time.

and i also noticed that most sporean blogs go like this:
...hai...so sianz lar....got skool sia then later go orchard, maybe heeren lar...hols so SiANz...*LOL*

heh, notice that they like to make their words more 'aesthetically appealing' by changing the caps? Er, tHat's sO oRigiNAL sia........*lol*

that's all for now. better rest and get well soon.

I didn't expect to find it. But there it was. She had written me a letter.

Hesitant to pick it up from the kitchen counter, I stared at it for a minute or two. I don't remember what I was thinking. But when I finally did pick it up, curiosity took hold and I ran upstairs, closed the bedroom door and realized my heart was now in my throat.

Opening the letter, I found the gold chain I had given to her in love.

I gave her the chain just before we were forced to part. We had attended university together for four months, but eventually she had to leave. I remember holding her at the airport, feeling her tears, gently kissing her, losing myself in her deep brown eyes and later that night taking comfort in hearing her voice, though she was now thousands of miles away.

When it began, I don't think either one of us were looking for anything. Though part of me dreamed of someone.

She lived upstairs from me in the house where I was boarding. And since I had a car, she came along to the grocery store with me. I helped fill her cart as she wasn't sure what to buy, living away from home for the first time. We laughed.

She and I began spending more time together. We went on runs together, shared hot chocolate, opened our hearts to one another, talked into the late evenings and early mornings.

One time, she fell asleep in my arms. I held on tight.

For the first time in my life, I could see into the heart of another. She was the only one I wanted to be with. We were inseparable.

That winter, apart from one another, was tough. We wrote countless love letters back and forth, sharing every little detail of our days. I could still see into her heart. I held on tight, and so did she.

But that summer, we began to drift apart. I started to think she wasn't holding on as tightly to us as I was. Truth is, when I think about it now, she probably did the best she could. But her heart was closing to me.

I continued holding on tight.

And one night later that year, on the phone, she told me it was over.

I walked aimlessly through the streets for days, eventually finding myself at the bus station, buying a ticket to go see her. She was now only a couple of hours away, having transferred to a university closer to my own, only a two hour bus ride away.

It would be another ten hours in the bus terminal and hardly a wink of sleep for me, after realizing she was out of town. No place to stay, a bus bench was my bed that night.

I did see her that morning. Her hug was cool, her heart was half-open, and we agreed to give our love, or what was left of it, a chance. Perhaps she just didn't know how to end it. I felt like I was begging, like I was holding on tighter than ever, forcing her to hold on against her will.

Her next visit was the end. She stayed at my place, told me the brutal truth. Silence. Denial. She cried. I held her the next morning, though I knew she didn't want me to.

Oh, the gold chain ... I returned it to her. She had written in the brief letter that she didn't deserve to keep it. This hurt because I had given it to her in love.

I'm glad to have been invited into her heart.

It took a while but I later realized she was not my soulmate ... who, by the way, was worth the wait.

 

The Summer King morning after
Yesterday was so intense. Four hours of rehearsal with a director explaining my own dialogue far more eloquently than I could, and actors (who were also opera singers) acting out dialogue and arias so well. What surprised me is that my own language in rehearsal: I thought I would have to use the language of plays or dramaturgy to relate to the director and actors, but I found I was most effective when speaking as a poet. That should not have been a surprise, I guess, but it did make me feel far more comfortable and real with the other people in the room.

Then came dinner with Ned Canty, the director, who is just this brilliant guy who has so many great ideas; I just kept taking notes on how to make this happen. What was better this time -- as opposed to the last time, in which we ran down the treatment/outline of the story, and I was twirling my parasol -- is that I felt like I was engaging more in how this story is to be told. I offered my own idea of so many Shakespeare's plots, in which the central character does not push the actual plot along, being perhaps the most workmanlike part of the plot, and how it related to TSK. With the case of Josh Gibson, who is by his very nature workmanlike, even pedestrian in his tragic elements (think Shaq's pride, sense of entitlement, except not allowed to play in the NBA) necessitates a through-line. I'm rambling, I know, but all of this is to say is I think -- I know -- that poets should write more librettos, plays, screenplays, and try to get the high/low speech of poetry in there, since real-time language don't work no more.

Shanna, Shawn, Shafer Charlie, Maze, Christopher, Susanna + the Love Ranger, Tomhop, Ada and Jennifer X2 all came out to see it and support and offer post-performance feedback. The actors offered so much of themselves -- I mean the elephant in the room we were all not talking about is this Caucasian dude writing a story -- a big story -- from the African American experience. This is something I totally had to come to terms with before even putting a pinky on a keyboard. But yesterday, it was about the story, the men and women in the story, and helping it along. At one point, the actor playing Josh Gibson parsed a few lines -- the "faulty heart" of his wife, who died in childbirth at 18 -- out loud, paused, and said, "Man, you're going for broke in this one, aren't ya?" I told him I was gonna hug him when asked to talk about the element of his character that would cause him to shout out for an imagined Joe DiMaggio in his last years -- a true story -- he said, "he's looking for a validation from this man, a validation he knows is not forthcoming." This sentence is pretty much the one I was looking for, something so simple and true. I don't know, it just hit me as a story bigger than my Word document, and all was well.

Oh yeah, forgot -- perhaps the most daunting part of this all was the opening of the floor, common practice in theater, but new to me. There were a lot of comments that were along the line of the libretto being a play, with arc of characters and action, and I gulped and sweated and mea culpaed as much as I could. The actor who plays Sam Bankhead reminded the audience, in essence, that many of the best librettos make no sense, let alone stand up to dramaturgical measuring sticks, continuity, etc. That made sense to me, too: I mean, 80% of words in opera -- and this is if you speak the language -- are heard and understood by an audience. So we're left up to direction and music to get the story across. A straight reading of a libretto is, literally on paper, a courageous and miraculous exercise, one that takes a lot of guts for all parties involved. Maybe that's why I can barely keep my eyes open.