Show Me The Way To The Next Sushi Bar (Oh, Don't Ask Why)

Last night members of Paradigm (everyone but our keyboard player) played at a sushi bar called Maido. Maido is an odd place because the design is meant to make you think you are in sort of a hipster art gallery, rather than an authentic Japanese restaurant. Sushi bars in this town are sort of like that--very few of them do the traditional layout. They mostly look like art galleries and nightclubs, which seems pretentious, but I guess it's better than having fifteen places in town called 'Dragon Wok' or whatever.

Anyway, it was the first of what would have hopefully been a weekly gig where we would work for free sushi and beer and then eventually make our way up to recieving actual money. We set up outside on the patio where there is a tiny little stage. Everyone was pretty enthusiastic about how we played, except for someone who called the cops on us four times. It was always the same guy, and evidently nobody knew where he was calling from, because the owner of the sushi bar told us he knows almost everybody that lives in the surrounding houses and most of those people are okay. Here's a timeline of the events:

1) 8:30--start by playing stevie ray vaughan covers. Cops show up, ask us to turn down.

2) 9:30--start playing Stella By Starlight with brushes. Cops show up, ask us to turn down.

3) 10:00--stop playing. Order sushi and start eating. Cops show up, shrug their shoulders and ask us to turn down.

4) 10:30--have a beer with owner and waitresses on an otherwise empty restaurant patio. Cops show up, get out of the car briefly, shake their heads in confusion, and leave.

There's nothing more frustrating than knowing you are playing quietly and being told you are too loud regardless. So the gig was kind of a wash in that regard, but on the positive side, a guy showed up with a sketchbook and decided to sketch a picture of me playing. I did not know this was happening until afterwards, when I sat down to my sushi. The guy came up with the picture, and said 'From one drummer to another, dude. Thanks for the solos.'

So, for your enjoyment, here it is:



I was, of course, completely flattered. You might think to yourself ''I think he drew the head too big,' but you would be wrong. The head is about the right size.

**

Many of you know of my recent and borderline-unhealthy obsession with early Stevie Wonder. Tonight, in order to get anything at all done, I had to literally pry myself away from the his collection of videos on YouTube, and in particular, this video:



It's interesting enough to see Bootsy Collins in an interview, even if his comments are a lesson in complete banality. 'He was definitely funky! I mean, you can't cut that with a knife!' Thanks, guy. Pretty stock answer coming from such a pioneering bassist, but you have to wonder what kind of vanilla question he was asked in order to come up with that response. I imagine the situation: some keener white guy in a House Of Blues t-shirt(Clint Eastwood, maybe?) sitting on the other end of the camera, his first opportunity to meet and talk to the great Bootsy Collins. Star-struck, his mind racing, he asks the only thing that comes easily: "So, Mr. Collins, do you believe that Stevie Wonder was.....funky?" He probably used those air quotation things with his fingers:


.....was he funky?