The Oracle of Apollo
Snippets from the life of Apollo Lee

Looks like Emmett can go to Idaho after all. Cedric said okay, so we’re on, heading out Saturday morning (July 1) in Emmett’s 84 Volvo (with tons of room for all my music gear and the movie collection, which I plan to bring down here). The only forseeable minus is that his car’s tape deck doesn’t work. His radio does, though. Hopefully, there are some good talk stations in Reno, rebroadcasting from Lovelock or Winnemucca. I plan to take alot of pictures. I don’t know whether I’ll post them or not.

But, I will probably keep track of everything and give you all a report when I return.

Mike Grant was on deck tonight for the last installment of Staple’s “Detroit in SF” month. He spun a very infectious set of Detroit house, alot of funky, soulful, electronic strains that kept us dancing until the lights.

Ended up in a dance circle with a bunch of breakdancers. I held my own when I summoned the courage to step into the circle, but by then, I was pretty much wasted, physically, after dancing and singing with Dana, Patrick (who has an uncanny ability to come up and need to say something to me right as I’m starting to get into some serious stepping), and his delightful girl, Geneva.

A sweaty night that ended well—a conversation with a pair of regulars, including Dana. Damn. What a night.

Sally called me up to ask if I could pick her up on the way to the club. I agreed, though I’d started out late, missed my fucking exit, circled back twice, and ended up at Sally’s at 11. We went down to the Rawhide, where the owner, Ray, hooked me up with a bottle of water on the house. That rocked.

The music was sweet enough that I was having a spectacular time, dancing with some very alluring beauties, including Sally, a tall brunette with pouty lips and a consort that couldn’t dance, and several others who liked to cheer when I started to step.

Afterward, we (Sally and I) hit this incredibly greasy shithole of an all-night diner on the way back to her place. I dropped her off at her house, ready to sleep.

Didn’t do much at work today, primarily because I got all my work done. It’s such a nice feeling. Stopped off at Tower and bought some CDs. Essential Garage, Essential Speed Garage, and Essential Speed Garage 2 for when I’m feeling housy. World Dance: The Drum & Bass Experience for when I’m feeling jungly. And Global Underground arrivals for when I’m feeling trancy. Whee.

Staple featured Shake of Detroit, laying down an incredibly danceable set of experimental stuff that left little room to wonder why Detroit is such a big town in the musical universe. I hadn’t expected to see John Tejada opening, though. His set was just banging. Another sweaty night, bouncing hard on the dancefloor, dancing amid some frowners and some smilers.

Every time the lights come up, I wish it was Saturday evening again. Ah, well. Another five days.

Yesterday was payday. Woo-hoo. I have damn sure got to get me a pay raise soon, because damn. Damn.

Into the Sound was very cool tonight. Sparse hip crowd, grooving along to progressive and deep house music. Herbie was there, Garth was spinning (it was supposed to be Jenö), and there were numerous pretty women to dance with. All in all, a decent night.

Detroit in SF month at Staple. Tonight was Theo Parrish from Detroit, who spun a very delicious deep house set. I was loving the funk, jazz, and soul influence. About half an hour into the set, I thought I recognized an intro. It was Do I Do by Stevie Wonder, from Original Musiquarium 1. I couldn’t believe it. So, there I was, singing my ass off. He faded that into a George Michael cut and some very vocal deep house. Damn, the music was incredible. Not only did I go home sore, I went home hoarse. I can’t wait for next Saturday.

Worked extraordinarily late tonight, like I have all week (sometimes going home at 2 or 3 in the morning). We’re rebuilding everything and I’m one of two production people. Oh, the rapture. After work, I went home, tinkered with my own stuff a little bit, read a bunch of stuff, messed with a little more code, then watched some TV (still nothing on). I’m going to Staple tomorrow night, though, because I have enough to go and have a bottle of water. After an 80 hour week, I definitely need some dancing.

Staple hosted the 7th Anniversary Party of XLR8R magazine. Aside from a minor disagreement with a nobody, it wasn’t too bad, except for the speaker ills in the back area (sounded like it was getting ready to blow). The house music was very nice. I wasn’t crazy about the “turntablists” who were trying to scratch vinyl that featured scratch DJs. But, that’s just me.

Alot of dumbasses were in the place, shoving their way around, as if “There are sixty people waiting to get a drink and two bartenders. Why don’t they just cater to me?” I wanted to pulverize a couple of them. Good thing the XLR8R party is a once-in-a-while thing.

Annie, Mina, Leika, and some other regulars were there again, as well as a plethora of very delicious strangers. Gotta love Saturday nights. XLR8R had a bunch of back issues lying around. I didn’t capture the girl DJs issue before the night was over (and there were, like, two copies of thousands still floating around), but I managed to snag another issue. It seems like a nifty enough magazine. Perhaps I should see about picking up another copy and maybe a subscription.

Went to Into the Sound again. Good music. Danced happily along, then spotted someone familiar out of the corner of my eye. Annie is back from Kiribati! She brought her friend (name escapes me for the moment) along and ran into Leika (sorry, girl, if I misspelled it), Mina’s delicious Indian-American friend. Yummy.