Of course it's easy enough to read the date and time on the poster below (previous post) given the back-lit nature of illuminated text. But black on purple is well neigh unreadable once the posters are printed, so how might our team succeed in generating turn out? That's the perennial question when it comes to the live performance circuit. Then there's the politics of type font and size, the order in which bands get listed and so forth, in addition to strategically placing them around town.
Lindsey is deep in a meeting with James on the whole publicity process, while I, the chauffeur, hang out with the nursing women and young children at Urban Grind. I also stuffed the car with free boards, thinking of raised beds for the planned vegetable garden. There's already that pile of dirt in front of the house, which needed a ditch between itself and the sidewalk to keep rain water from backing up in front of the neighbors' house. I added that yesterday.
Here's a smart cookie American from Savannah, helping with business intelligence around the Gulfstream fleet, those famous torture taxis frequented by the spoiled rich, like Rush Limbaugh, Leon Panetta and Catherine Reynolds, that high flying student loan lady. She then discovers "peak oil" and the generic bankruptcy of the lawyer-capitalist system, which thinks only "legally-piggily" in the short term, and her deeper integrity (American heritage) kicks in. She trades away a promising career, packs her car with her musical instruments and cat, and aims it at Portland, Oregon, having scoped out our City of Roses on an earlier reconnaissance mission. Now that's a good story -- plus the songs are really quite interesting, as is their vocal delivery.
