After the Ball Is Over

Yesterday, it rained. The day before yesterday it rained. The day before, the day before…

Today, it has rained a total amount of 0.54 inches since Midnight.
Our creek is beginning to race and to rise

Looking upstream west to east                                                    Looking north, behind the house toward bend to west.               

Looking north, downstream toward our property line. Image on right is blow up of image on left.
All images from 1045 today.

We left for Asheville about 1615 yesterday. The large concentration of rain had shifted eastward during the early afternoon. We drove over the passes with the wipers on intermittent and the defroster blowing cold air into the passenger cabin. As I mentioned, one of the few faults I’ve noted with the Pathfinder. The trip went smoothly. The mountain sides are spectacular in any light but sunlight would have made them much more so. At several points we were above the cloud deck and glad for tail lights on other vehicles. But still, not a bad drive. We managed to find a parking garage near our target restaurant. We were a few minutes early but decided to go ahead and begin a leisurely dinner. Our hope for guest, David Gans, was unfortunately delayed and didn’t get to Asheville in time to do anything but sound check before performing.


The restaurant “Wasabi” http://www.ichibanwasabi.com/pdf/wasabi_go_menu.pdf was nearly empty when we walked in just before 1800. We joked about not needing a reservation after all; but were assured we had done the right thing making one. We were quickly seated and began the always fun process of choosing sushi and sashimi. We settled on a house special roll, “main street roll,” that was beautifully presented. We ate it slowly, commenting on how great it tasted and how well presented it was. Neither of us recalled that we were carrying cell phones with cameras. By the time we added some sashimi – tuna & yellow tail, a spicy tuna hand roll, and a piece of sushi with uni for each of us, dinner was well underway. We kept a lookout for David but by this time didn’t really expect to see him walk in.


We knew we had a long night ahead of us and were still hungry. The restaurant was filling up rapidly by 1830. We ordered dinner, shrimp and vegetable tempura for me and nabe yake soba for Gloria. In a classic loss of situational awareness, when the waitress asked if I wanted soup or salad, I asked, “What’s the soup?” Quickly realized that there was no option but it was too late to say anything but “Oh, yeah!”

Dinner was delicious. We did realize we could photograph it and even on a cell phone camera image it is obviously well presented.

 

We brought home about half of each dinner. We’ll dine on leftovers quite happily tonight.


From the restaurant to the dance location, our trusty Garmin GPS took us through Asheville. Both of us read maps quite easily and quite well; but I must admit that a GPS can really cut confusion in unfamiliar cities and towns. We arrived in time to find parking within a short walk, paid our admission and Gloria left to change into her new skirt and the shirt she had chosen for the evening. We managed to find a place to sit along the wall beside the band. Changed shoes, stored our gear, and waited for the beginner session to end and the dance, proper, to begin. Gloria took the opportunity to see if her friends in the band, “Wild Asparagus,” would recognize her. It pleased her no end when they did. She started the dance with a huge smile on her face.

She also ran into an old friend from her DC dancing days, Bruce Henderson, which made it even more fun for her. She has always had fun introducing me to old friends. With rare exception, I’ve always enjoyed meeting her old friends.


To save her knee from too much damage she’s only dancing every other dance. It’s hard for her to sit out a dance but she did well last night. My knees are not much better than hers so I took advantage of the off dances to pay close attention to the band

“Wild Asparagus” http://www.wildasparagus.com/about.html is a great band for Contra dancing. They bring tremendous energy to the dance, are master musicians, and routinely improvise while playing traditional Celtic and other Contra dance music. A band that plays only a predetermined set list in exactly the same manner each night – akin to playing an album of tunes for dancers to dance to – will suffice to fuel a dance. The ability to improvise and to bring other musical elements to the performance can supercharge a dance, move it from a common to a seemingly living event. Some of it depends on the dancers. They provide feedback to the band. But the band can ignore that feedback or use it as a catalyst. That’s what I saw happen last night. I’d never heard “Wild Asparagus” play before, had only Gloria’s opinion of their caliber and merit. After the first dance, I wanted more. I’ve written of my inability as a dancer. So, for me, any good band would suffice to try to dance to. As a musician, I was treated to a superior performance by a band of immense talent and capability. Even I felt as if I might be a bit closer to being able to dance.


Of course, that was the music talking to me. I’m still the same middle-aged male who can only call himself a dancer if the phrase is never uttered out loud or written, as herein, for any and all to point and laugh. But sometimes the music is worth the ridicule. Sometimes it can make you loosen up enough to not really care how little grace of movement one possesses. We’ve all seen the tripped out guy in tie-dye and dreadlocks on the rail at a Grateful Dead concert. He’s hearing something no one else can hear, dancing to something Garcia’s playing “just for him,” in a spasmodic epitome of “white boy dancing.” Well, that’s never been me and it still isn’t. But I’m learning, just a bit, perhaps, that I can risk looking a little bit like that. And it helps that in 16, or 32 measures, I’ll be shoved or handed off to another neighbor, who along with my partner for the dance, will try to coach me into some semblance of a dancer for the minute of two in which they are stuck with me.

We left for home when the dance ended at 2300. When we left the venue there was a fine mist in the air, intermittent wipers were too frequent and noisy to leave on. It was hand control time until we hit the highway. Then the level of misty increased to really annoying. There was the perpetual streak directly in the field of vision that no wiper blade ever removes, that no window cleaner can eliminate. I spent the entire trip home to the intersection of TN 81 and I-26 changing the frequency on the intermittent wiper controller. Traffic was nearly non-existent once we left Asheville until we turned on to TN 81 at Erwin. The Nolichucky gorge is narrow, winding, rock on one side, river on the other, no guard rails, no shoulder, and had more traffic, all oncoming, than I expected. 12 miles from home it began to actually rain. We pulled into the drive at 0100.

The dog was happy to be let out. We were happy to be out of the car. We drained and emptied the dog, had a bite to eat, and watched enough television to de-wire. Off to bed at 0200 and the sleep of the just, righteous, and exhausted.
Woke up to rain, decided I’d gotten sufficient exercise last night, and have enjoyed a very quiet day to this point.

Tomorrow: reality television – no survivors.