Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Tee shirt works, if Straitjacket Fits

After the long haul from Sydney to San Francisco a good meal was going to be welcome. I seemed to remember the best stuff was in the South Court food hall. At first I thought memory had failed as I could only see fresh sort of stuff that didn't appeal. My eyes eventually focussed a little better and dimly picked out Burger Joint.

It was good, and I was enjoying seeing lots of folk going for cola and fries, many of whom looked as though they surely knew better.

Just as I was about to leave a youngish guy walks up to order,  sporting a black teeshirt that simply read Flying Nuns Records. My heart soared. I thought I have to say hello and pass my compliment. I picked up my tray and walked the 10 paces to make my greeting.

Too slow, at least to be first. By the time I got there I only came in second. Another bloke was already there. Talking. Animated. I didn't want to butt in, so just slid by with my tray and said "Great music" in passing.

But in SFO when Flying Nun is the catalyst you don't untrash your tray that easily. In no time it was all on. Memories trading. The Verlaines, Tall Dwarfs, The Chills, Straitjacket Fits ... Didnt Chris Knox have a heart attack? No, it was a stroke. How'she doing? No so well last I heard. I always meant to get down there, but I only saw the ones who came here, says the guy who got to the teeshirt first. Pity, I replied, you'd have had some great all-nights. But TG for the digits to give us the 3rd best thing, after live and analogue.

The teeshirt recalled for me how sometimes the message is the medium.

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