Last night at Don’s was a throwdown primarily for the Giant, but at midnight it rolled into DJ Trick’s birthday, and it’s Jaxxie’s birthday in a while, and my birthday was a while back, and Stanzilla gave me some awesome old schoolbooks of his aunt’s, and . . .
Oh God. I think I’m still drunk. I know at the very least I was drunk when I woke up this morning, and I thought splashing on some Brut was a great way to mask that I had been in a bar last night. I did this in lieu of taking a shower. Basically . . . yeah, not working on even, like, three cylinders. I’m like a lawn mower engine right now. I have no idea what I’m even talking about.
The photograph above of DJ Trick isn’t by me, but by the extraordinarily talented Ginger Brilliant. Like cursive, her work weaves its way through genre and form, and its her art that so many think of when they think “Jackson.” The ubiquitous Eudora button worn far and wide is culled gently from a portrait she did of our patron saint, and is probably one of her best known pieces, although the gigantic canvases displayed so prominently in Fondren Corner rival anything created here in decades.
She is also the architect of the Terry-Go-Round, that hellish ideal which has confronted patrons of Don’s for many moons now. Once erased with a vengeful swipe of a paint brush, it was recreated last night, and it is even more horrifying than before.
Looking again at that great portrait of Trick, I realized that the girl’s bathroom at Don’s has a mirror. I am going to start a petition to have one in the boy’s. Also, I am going to start a petition to spray it with bleach and noon and midnight. Everyday.
Sally made me a mix for my birthday, and oh my did it have a wonderful cover:
That’s Eudora in her high school photo—doesn’t she look just great? All gothy and deep. I remember seeing this at Central High School—where she went, in downtown Jackson—and saying she looked pretty and somebody making a vomiting noise and then I totally pushed them down some stairs.
The mix was packed with favorites, including songs I didn’t have that I adore, namely “It Never Rains in Southern California,” by Albert Hammond, which seized me by the heart a couple years ago and will not let go. Then there’s the song I think of as Vendela’s—”Give it Up” by KC (a solo hit without the Sunshine Band). I will never forget sitting in Sally’s house (now mine) and somebody putting on that record and it was like V came alive, and she spun around, and basically I had no idea that she is apparently a dancer on the Soul Train, and I’d never heard it before and it was amazing and just a moment of pure joy.
Another song on the mix is one I think of as Sally’s song, one I’d never heard until she put in on a mix for me around 2000 (a cassette!)—”Very First Lie” by Material Issue. It’s a song so funny and bittersweet that I fell in love with it immediately, and people think of lies as being bad things and they really are, but sometimes you can’t help but say the wrong thing trying to be silly or realize that you got things all messed up without even trying:
I’d like to wake up with you early in the morning
or stay up late just playin’ records on your phonograph.
I’d like to get to know your mother and your father,
maybe just once pretend to be somebody’s better half.
And I would like to tell the very first lie.
I’d like to ignore all my friends and spend my time with you,
maybe shake your tambourine.
I’d like to do the sorts of things that you and I could do,
and we could do most anything.
Happy birthday, everybody.