An April Fools Day by Mike Bozart - HTML preview

We, Monique (Agent 32) and I (Agent 33) slinked into the One Stop (55 College Street) in downtown Asheville at 10:27 PM. It was a cool and refreshing April 1st of 2016. Tonight’s musical act of our supreme interest was Blackbird Blackbird, aka Mikey Maramag, the Filipino-American musical wunderkind known for lush psychedelic folktronica. [sic]

We handed over our tickets and then stood at the far end of the bar. I ordered two local microbrew IPAs (India pale ales). There were about two dozen people milling about, murmuring about different April Fools’ jokes that they had heard over the course of the day. I wonder if any of them heard the one about the red rabbit that could no longer hop, and just stood with a shocked looked on its face, as it had eaten an Amanita muscaria (fly agaric) mushroom by mistake, became transfixed on a fractal display, and, well, it was just an actor on the lawn, and, yeah … my oh my, those granules are already grabbing hold.

Seven minutes later we noticed a shadowy personage on the dark stage. He started to tune his guitar. That’s probably Chad Valley, the opening act. I wonder what tune he will open with.

While studying the wall ornaments in the bar, I heard: “Hello Asheville. It’s good to be back.” Woah! That’s Mikey! He’s going on first. Maybe Chad’s bus was running late. Glad we didn’t wait until 11:11 PM to show up.

“Monique, that’s him: Mr. Blackbird Blackbird.”

“Yey! Let’s move up front!”

We slithered through the beer-drinking, mostly Caucasian, 20- and 30-something crowd to a vacant space, stage right, about twelve feet from Mikey.

Suddenly the first notes of Keep it Up rang out as the spotlight came down upon him. Ah, he got a haircut. / Glad we made it.

There was a spattering of applause after the initial song. Mr. Maramag then paused to make some adjustments to his laptop and effects boxes. Soon the opening loops of one of my hallucinatory faves, Tangerine Sky, reverberated out of the large speaker to our immediate left. The three-hour wreck-detoured drive from Charlotte was worth it.

I shouted, “Oh, yeah!” and Mikey nodded.

Monique started to do her ‘pinay [a lady from the Philippines] spider’ dance. It was a kewl [sic] scene all the way around, and in the neural interior.

When Love Unlimited started, Monique walked up to the stage and encouraged Mikey. “Go pinoy!” [a Filipino man] she shouted repeatedly.

Mikey turned and smiled. Then he refocused on the front audience.

After the song was over, we decided to sit down in some vacant chairs by a small table. I settled my torso in a position where my Sciatica wasn’t too severe. (I blew my lower back out a week prior.) Ah, this aint too bad. I think I can deal with this. I know Monique is going to want to dance, though.

The next tune, Happy with You, advanced the mood. People were now getting into the groove. Flip flop, drip drop. Why do I always have to change the lyrics in my head? Endless amusement, I suppose.

And very soon our unobstructed view was no more. Slow gyrations commenced here, there, and in between. Well, I knew it was only a matter of time. I think I’m better off in this chair, though / I want to dance, but my bana [Cebuano for husband] is not up to it, I can tell. He needs to stop playing football with Agent 666.

When Mikey launched into Pure, the joint was freed of extraneous thoughts. Well, except for mine. So sublime. Great stuff. He’s sure-really [sic] in the zone. No doubt about that. He’s been to knowhere [sic] early and often.

Then with Blind, our inner eyes were opened. It was music for the perfect cosmic trip. He’s certainly tuned in to the astral airwaves. What a succulent sound. What a fabulous frequency he’s riding.

After that tune, I then implored Mikey to play an older, little, two-minute vignette called Ups and Downs before he could start his next song.

He just smiled and said, “I only play that one on Friday the 13th.” He let out a slight chuckle.

I quickly thought about the Friday dates in April and May. Let’s see … 1-8-15-22-29-6-13. Wow! May 13th is a Friday! Where will he be playing then? [not playing on that date]

Then he tore into Tear. Nice pulsating progressions. He just may be the neopsychedelic prodigal son.

Next up in this hypnotic flow was Darlin’ Dear. I got lost in a sentimental sequence of thought. Monique is my darlin’ dear, that’s for sure. What a find. What a wife. Such a darlin’ dear.

I then became hyper-granulated [sic] and couldn’t make out the exact songs for the rest of the 62-minute set. I was immobilized in the chair. Monique was dancing in place, thoroughly enjoying the sounds and sights.

Then as the house-trance atmospherics faded out, Mikey said: “Thank you, Asheville. Until next time …”

I joined several others in yelling, “One more!”

Mikey obliged with an encore: the seven-minute masterwork, It’s a War. (Interesting note: This song was used in car commercial – Buick, me thinks.)

Near the end of the tune he invited the audience to sing the refrain. “It’s a war,” was enthusiastically chanted by about a dozen folks.

After the show was over, Monique approached Mikey as he completed his repacking of musical equipment and effectual apparatus.

“Hey, could we take a picture with you?” she boldly asked.

“Sure,” Mikey replied. He sure is approachable and friendly.

“Hey, Parkaar, [my ailing alias] come over here. It’s picture time.”

I joined them at a side wall and a patron snapped our pic. (Click here to see it.)

Next, a casual conversation began.

“Mikey, you have a great sound,” I said. “A surreally kewl [sic] auditory groove.”

“Thanks a lot,” Mr. Maramag replied.

“We have been listening to your songs for over two years on our laptop and now on my smartphone,” Monique said. “I have these speakers that flash colors to the beat. When It’s a War plays, it’s a battle of hues.” A battle of hues? Might have to use that phrase someday.

“Why, thanks!” Mikey exclaimed.

“Where can we buy your CDs?” I asked. “We’re old school, or middle school.” I chuckled.

“Check with the girl at the table over there,” he said while pointing to his left.

“What do you guys do?” Mikey then asked.

“I mainly write now. I wrote an erotic, noir-esque odyssey of a novel in 2013: Gold, a summer story. I’ve written a couple of novellas since then and over 50 short stories. But, I’ve still got a day job in Charlotte. Not exactly buried in royalties.”

Mikey and I had a short laugh.

“He likes writing up our excursions,” Monique added. “I help him with the females’ thoughts.”

“Oh, really?” Mikey asked, sensing that he might be part of a future short story.  

“Mikey, I used to do visual art, the standard paint-on-canvas deal,” I said. “But, I found out that my niche market was way too narrow for comfort.”

Mikey had a chortle. “Too narrow for comfort. That’s funny!”

“I used to do needlepoint,” Monique then said. “But, I ran out of this really fantastic, multicolored, sparkly, metallic thread.”

“Couldn’t you just buy some more?” Mikey asked Monique.

“I’ve never seen it in any store or online. I found in a basement closet on April Fools’ Day 2012.”

“Very interesting,” Mikey said.

“Well, where do you play next, maestro?” I asked. Wish he would schedule Charlotte. Snug Harbor in Wigwood [slang for Plaza-Midwood] would be perfect.

“Atlanta, at a place called The Masquerade.”

“Well, hope it goes well, and the rest of the tour,” I said.

“Thanks,” Mikey replied as he glanced at the stage. We need to wrap this up. We are taking too much of his time. We might delay Chad.

“Hey, did you hear any good April Fools’ jokes today?” Monique asked Mikey.

“Just the one about a red rabbit. I saw him in the 2nd-floor window above the front door as I entered. What about you guys?”

We just looked at each other. Ernie, the enigmatic electronic earwig is at it again.

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--------- Parkaar ------------------------ Mikey --------------- Monique -------------

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