Sunday, March 21, 2004

Nice Nice and I are practicing at a giant high school. A famous producer and engineer is the gym teacher, who lives in the school with his wife. We have our gear set up in a classroom. The gym teacher is not really paying attention to us, he's reading a newspaper, sitting with his feet up at a desk in the classroom. He off-handedly tells us that we're a really racist band. I try to object, but he casually insists that I'm just unwilling to admit my racism. We argue for a while, until I finally ask, "What can I do to make our band less racist?" He tells me that we need to try and play some funkier stuff. Jason and Mark and I make google eyes at each other and smile, and start playing some really funky shit. We play funky shit all the time, I guess we just hadn't done any at this practice, but once we get into the funky stuff, the gym teacher sucks his teeth and tells us we're on our way to being a non-racist band.

Then the gym teacher's wife informs me that the principal is looking for me. I try to tell her that I am cool because I don't even know who the principal is or what he looks like. Then a parade of people busts into the gym, and the principal is driving a little slow-moving go-kart at the front, waving to the crowd that is walking in around him. During the commotion I take off to the far side of the gym where there is a bar and bathrooms. The bathrooms are at the top of some bleachers and there is now some long lines forming to get to them. I hang out there and watch some sports news which is on the TVs above the bar. They are playing some big news story about how some grizzled, almost sea-captain-looking football player with white hair and busy white eyebrows punched another player in the face after scoring a touchdown. They keep showing this footage of the puncher standing at the edge of the end zone, and the other guy on his knees in front of him, pawing at the puncher's stomach, when the puncher leans back in slow motion and belts him. Then they use some new camera technology to show what the scene would look like without football helmets or uniforms.

Waiting near the front of the bathroom is a boy and a girl who are brother and sister. The girl is pretty hot. The boy is a little younger than me and the girl is probably just out of grad-school. They are arguing, but not very passionately. Apparently, the girl accidentally killed somebody during her medical school studies but won't admit it, and I don't think anybody knows about it besides her brother, and now, me. I tell her that I think it's pretty fucked up to kill somebody and not admit it, and she starts crying and tells me I don't know what it's like. I apologize and tell her she's right, but that she might get in trouble later if she doesn't admit it now.