The Mystical Dream City of... Buford Pusser???
Now Playing: Hooverphonic--"Out of Sight"
The "dream city" arose once more, in markedly different circumstances than before. I recently read Jan Morris' 1984 Last Letters From Hav, her own journalistic account of a city very much like mine, with an ambience at once both Eastern European and Mediterranean, and an out-of-time, out-of-place atmosphere. Of course, Morris' city, again like mine, never existed--she wrote the book as a personal exercise in imaginary travel writing, a series of articles for Esquire. During her time in "Hav," Morris talked to local citizens and drank in the local culture with her own indomitable elan. How did I spend my time in "whatever the fuck it's called?" Well, I started my visit locked in the fortified villa of a notoriously insane local countess and her prolific, "by the claw divided" would-be progeny of cats and dogs. I was nuzzled quite ferociously. I must have pissed someone off, because the next thing I knew, I was bound to a lock in the local dam system (don't ask, because I don't know why there was a dam system), and the thing was filling with water. I must have fainted from terror or having to pee, and woke up in a local sanitarium, waiting to see one of the doctors. I was shocked to find that one of my fellow patients was none other than Joe Don Baker. I wanted to tell him how much I enjoyed his performances in Charley Varrick (1973) and Edge of Darkness (1985), but then grew fearful that one of the others would tell him (accurately) of how hard I laughed during the Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode of "Mitchell" (during which poor Joe Don was mercilessly skewered--apparently much to his displeasure), and ran away. I think I woke up afterward, and it was probably for the best.

Sunday night I waddled over to the UMMA to hear Frank Pahl and "The Little Bang Theory," a show inspired by the principles of improvisational music and featuring a wondrous array of toy-band instruments. I won't even try to describe what was present, although I recognized the kazoo and keyboard. The art museum didn't seem to me the likeliest place for such a show, but it seemed alright as soon as I saw the atrium packed with people in chairs, with more above lining the second floor gallery in front of the ancient Hindu statuary. I sat near the back, eventually drifting up along the sidelines. The show was sponsored by WCBN along with the museum, and the whole crowd, in sum, definitely seemed a little more well-heeled than my usual fellow audience members. Nick Schillace came first with some elegant, quasi-classical guitar work; he'd played the New West Fest at the Madison, and I couldn't remember if I'd actually heard him or not, but he was pretty good. The Little Bang Theory gave us "Toy Suites" and something called "The Magnificent Seven Samurai". The latter was a medley of the theme music from The Magnificent Seven (1960) and The Seven Samurai (1954), with "Cheyenne's Theme" from Morricone's score for Once Upon A Time In The West (1969) tacked on at the end. I know it was supposed to be all quirky and whimsical, but I found my leg shaking and my foot tapping in a deadly serious manner. Wondering if a mood was coming on, and having to work early in the morning, I left after that, the tinkling of God-knew-what still ringing in my ears.