The Hoffman Center crowd really liked “Pole Dancing for Jesus”; I think it got the best applause all evening. Don’t know how to translate that into an income, but I’m definitely getting known. Met another writer who was also performing, and encouraged him to come to the Sunday night jam at the Rapture Room.

Went to play with the Friday Night Group at City Hall but there weren’t many performers there, or much audience, either; Elsie (accordion) and I were about the only ones who could play lead. I had heard from a couple former regulars (who weren’t there, and may not be back) that they, too, had gotten frustrated by the couple of people who can’t keep time, can’t play in tune and don’t seem to be learning—but keep coming to play. I understand. I expect I have a higher frustration level than most folks, having been a city manager, but I haven’t gone much lately myself. I don’t run the show so I can’t change anything. All I can do is not be there. No offense to the non-frustrating folks there—but I want to be playing music on Friday nights and would rather be doing it somewhere more productive.

Without a high level of expertise in the group, I had to stick to the familiar, so the crowd (using the term loosely) got Leon Payne’s “Lost Highway,” “Pole Dancing for Jesus,” “Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues” (because somebody requested it) and Hank Williams’ “You Win Again” (the only Hank song I can actually sing). One out-of-town fellow in the audience asked me how long I’d been playing guitar; when I told him 30-odd years, he nodded, and said “I figured—you sound just like those old guys.” I think it was a compliment. (He was a Hank Williams fan.)

Since the Train Set gig was cancelled, I went to play music at the library (good crew of musicians there, all of whom used to play on Fridays at City Hall), and they got “One: I Love You,” “In the Shadows I’ll Be Watching You,” “Leavin’ It to Beaver” (which I almost never play because it’s so long) and “Naked Space Hamsters in Love,” along with “Pole Dancing” (I was trying to practice that one a lot). At the Arts Center’s reception for the Shoe Project, there seemed to be a bunch of people crowded around my piece, which plays Donna Devine’s “Sometimes She Could Scream.” Hopefully, they were listening—and hopefully they liked it.

What’s next? I really don’t have anything on the horizon, so I need to make something happen. There’s some stuff to finish, of course: two videos, one of which I have control over and one not, and one more song contest to enter. It would be good to schedule another Failed Economy Show benefit for the Food Pantry—maybe this one could be timed for around Thanksgiving. And I should hit up some of the venues around Manzanita, Nehalem and Wheeler that book solo-or-duo acoustic acts, and see if they’d be interested in me. Before the memory of the Hoffman Center Talent Show fades completely from folks’ consciousness.

And sad news: the Oyster Shooters, one of this area’s most famous rock bands (and arguably the best), have broken up after ten years in business. That leaves, I think, a huge void in the local music scene. Could Deathgrass fill it? Doubtful—it’s a different style of music—but there may be a few opportunities, for us and for others. There is a Depression-driven demand for local live music that seems to be getting bigger.

Joe