Here's some solid irony. Yesterday I had had enough of getting no return calls from Righteous Babe Records for my possible Ani DiFranco story for a local shiny magazine. Rather than calling her lead handler myself at his home or on his cel I decided to go the Professional Route and called their office - for four weeks. No yes, no no, no thing. So I called yesterday morning and, in a spicy nutshell, said I've been trying to contact the handler (who I've known for perhaps 15 years) via your office and is this the way your company handles media requests? I went on (and on) and said that if the answer was a big fat NO I would like to know as the magazine would be going to press shortly. The woman said she would have someone get back to me. I explained that I was on my way into a meeting and couldn't talk to anyone for about an hour. Within one minute I got a call from RBR's v.p. (oh hell, his name is Scot), the lead handler, who rambled a bit until I said look, it's been on & off four weeks of calls, yes or no? He explained that Ani had just finished all interviews and now there was a "media blackout" and that RBR is opening an office in London and she's about to embark on another tour. So if they had called me back aeons ago I may have had an interview. Irony: (which I detailed to the magazine's editor) RBR staffers make much of the fact that they've remained in Buffalo to do business yet give local media a difficult time. If CNN or SPIN were sniffing around for a story you can bet your sweet media credetials that they would have called back. So Scot was all mopey-voiced and I said look, I really don't care, but now I've got to call the editor. He said you can blame it all on me. Onwards and upwards, I'm onto another story which will actually be more fun to write. Ani says to hell with local media. I say how about a local media blackout of RBR/Ani? Off for a weekend of work and work-related fun.
Later in the day yesterday took a close friend out for sushi for his b-day and the sake flowed like the tears of Jesus in an onion patch. We moved over to a lounge and had yet more sake until the voluminous band chased us away, to another joint across the street where we proceeded to drink a hoary Australian from Adelaide under the proverbial table. He was amusing until he went very stooped and sleepy. His tag line, pre-snooze, was I love your work. Upon hearing that me and my friend are artists. Today I called him and shouted I LOVE YOUR WORK. He said that now we could add to our c.v.'s that we drank an Aussie under the table, 2001.