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July 17, 2005

and all the sucka MC's can call me sire

On Sunday evening, as the neighborhood gets quiet, the air seems completely still outside and the trees against the sky look like a photograph instead of the real thing, but then I see the bats swooping back and forth and the fireflies' lights. Jack and I sit on the front porch and Spike meows to come outside and paws the window. We sit there until it gets dark and all I hear are the night insects and somebody's air conditioner.

Last night Moo and I went to a club called Jaxx to see MC Chris. The sky was clear when we left our house and by the time we got to Jaxx it was pouring, enormous dark clouds hiding the sunset and great forks of lightning spearing down every once in a while. We waited in line with a whole bunch of white adolescent boys in baseball hats until the doors opened, then I showed my ID and we paid our $10 each and we were in.

Gradually, very gradually, the room filled with both people much younger than me and cigarette smoke. The boys were either very skinny or kind of chunky (I saw one in a t-shirt that said Fuck Me, I'm Fat), and the girls all looked sexy enough to take a bite of. Moo and I stood in front of the stage and waited through two and a half hours of mostly not very good rappers, the worst of whom was OUO, who rapped about being "between the devil and the deep blue sea" and (I think) ballpoint pens, and modern women ("you look good / but can you cook good?"), before we got what we came for in the form of a short, pudgy guy with a certain amount of cynical wit and a voice like he'd inhaled helium, and it was about time.

My ears were ringing by the end of his set and the lights came up and kids called for their rides and we left the building, the rain had stopped, the air felt clean and blessedly free of cigarette smoke, and it was very, very late at night or very early in the morning, depending on your outlook. "That was great," Moo said.

Posted by JudyLa at 10:00 PM | Comments (0)