NOTES ON OPEN MIKE NIGHTS 2000

i'm writing songs. i cannot attest to their consistency, but a couple of them have drawn high praise from audiences. small, wiry audiences, bored stiff by those people abusing the open mic - the hootie and the blowsfish imitators, complete with backwards baseball hats and lyrics "i wanna be with you, baybay (baby)." then we've got the open mic night veterans, those who, by virtue of having played these things for 10 years, have lost any sense of restraint or sympathy for their audience. perhaps they see us as captives, and they'll inflict their self-indulgent humming solos for as long as their whiskey buzz can hold. last night i played the cactus to a decidedly cool reception. i finished my red wine and left while the next act set up. it's liberating in a way to know that you're not as good as you'd assumed. that means you've failed once and can repeat the process without another death-shock.

the time i played before, i had brought in a few friends, the place was packed, we were doing songwriting rounds, two songwriters on stage at a time, swapping stories and 'licks.' i got paired with kent mayhew, local songwriter who sports a large hooped earring, a bright red silk shirt, cowboy boots with precious metals imbedded in the leather. just imagine all possible absurd costume accesories, he had them on. well, he sings his song about sunbathing by lake travis, and throws in a few "oh babys" just for punctuation, i suppose. he finishes, i step up and sing a song about riding in an airplane to find god in the clouds, despairing on my failure to find him, dying, meeting an angel, who asks me to describe my life to him. i make up some bullshit, he laughs, and denies my cleverness. then he wakes me up, we find the whole thing was merely a dream. the audience flipped out and i felt like some real rock star. especially sitting next to this pirate from Lake Travis. the contrast between us led to this incredible outpouring of support for my music. then our dear kent mayhew called me jim morrison and i told him to shut up. the whole absurd perfection of his 'compliment' and my response made me feel even better. but, alas the night came to pass, i moved on, came back last night, expecting similar results, and fell on my ass. so now i know i ain't shit and i can be happy just being Bill.