this, as the Meave family will tell you, is a picture of me, chris.  it came from the Austin Chronicle a while back.  i think the article was about a guy smuggling drugs from mexico…or maybe to…or in…or around…i don’t know.  something about pot and mexico.  he was smoking a joint while walking on the street and two guys, cops maybe, stopped and searched him.  i think they stole his weed and smoked it. and his pocket knife (stole it, not smoked it).

which brings us to the very fun Her Space Holiday and American Analog Set show.  HSH opened, but they should have been the headlining act.  it was Marc Bianchi with his then-girlfriend (wife? i don’t know. who cares) Keely.  they both kept chain smoking and drinking beer–there were about 10 half empty bottles of beer they both kept sucking on, and then toward the end Marc emptied them all out.  this explains his somewhat scratchy throat.  i bet he drinks diet coke too.  most of the music they played was prerecorded, like the drum beats.  but the light show was amazing.  it was in a small venue and i’ve never seen so many lights in such a small place. 

so anyway, HSH and pot.  i went there with my best friend, Juan, and his then-girlfriend, Bethany.  Bethany went to a private christian school, and i think that was her first time to hang out in a big city (Austin) with people like us (miscreants and a mexican).  as HSH started to play, a guy who was standing up in front next to us lit up a nice sized joint and was offering it around.  i didn’t notice until i smelled it.  i don’t think Bethany knew what it was, but i think Juan was trying to get her to breathe in deep, which probably just meant she was getting lungfuls of cigarette smoke.  if it affected her at all we’ll never know.  she didn’t talk to me for most of the night (hard when you’ve got a Meave’s tongue in your teeth, i would think).

after most small shows i go to, i ask someone from the band for a guitar pick before they’ve gotten off stage.  i went up and asked Marc for a pick as he was cleaning up (picking up the beer bottles).  he search his pockets and said, “man, guitar pick? i play the fucking computer.”  but he found one and gave it to me.  why do they always look at me funny when i ask them for a pick?