Tuesday, October 26, 2004

In a fog

Lately, every time I drive somewhere after dark, I'm enveloped in fog. We're talking zero visibility. I guess it's the time of year. You'd think Halloween was invented by someone from Georgia, the way the weather spookily complies.

They say it behooves you to drive with your low beams on in the fog. I will agree that high beams are useless, but I think whoever decided you can see better with the low beams was being extraordinarily optimistic. The best tactic is to slow to a crawl (a speed at which you can stop for deer, dogs, possums, etc., if they run three feet in front of your vehicle, which they will) and wait until you emerge from the cloud.

Meanwhile, the moon is full, or close to it. People still react to a full moon, no matter how much they'd like to think otherwise, so I usually try to avoid driving into town during one. But a performance by the Silos in a 50-person room was enough to draw me out last night.

First, let me explain how I feel about Walter Salas-Humara.

Owoooooooooooo! Oops. Didn't mean to let that out. It must have been the moon.

Seriously, here's the deal. I've met a lot of musicians, famous and otherwise. He is the only one whose presence turns me into a babbling fool. I don't know what it is. His lanky, sexy Cuban-ness probably doesn't hurt. But I think it's the fact that I admire his talent so very much and am completely mystified by him. I can't pin him down.

I first met him in person at a picnic during SXSW '98. He was incredibly sweet and gracious. I was a retard. And that has set a pattern for every encounter since then.

Anyhow, I drove 35 miles into town, slowing for impenetrable clouds of fog, to see the Silos play, and it was transcendent. It wasn't nearly as crowded as it should have been, but it was still great to share the experience with lots of people I know who appreciated the music as much as I did. The new album material sounds great live. The encore was a brutally beautiful version of "Susan Across the Ocean" that ripped everyone's hearts out of their chests.

And then there I was, buying a Silos tank top from Walter Salas-Humara. "Duh-huh...I really like your music..duhhhh."