December 4, 1985. A Wednesday.
I was closing in on two months in the Twin Cities. No job yet - no real nibbles, really.
A job as a technical writer at a local defense-related contractor flared briefly in November - and flamed out as the company imposed a hiring freeze that lasted the better part of a decade. I ended up working in tech writing - starting in 1993. But that would wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I'd been to a bunch of band auditions. I figured the best way to get into the music scene was to get into a band that was sort of, kind of, like what I wanted to do.
My first audition was sometime in mid-November, after I'd moved into my apartment in South Minneapolis. It was in a warehouse on and Washington Avenue North. I parked my car in a trash-strewn dirt lot abutting a railroad track, and hauled my gear - my guitar and amp - up a cement stairway onto a ratty loading dock that smelled of grease and urine. A bum was passed out in a neighboring doorway. I took a ricket freight elevator up to a drafty room that smelled like rodent droppings with a couple of hanging 110 volt outlets and fist holes in the wallboard, in a warren of similar little spaces housing small bands and wheezing artists. The audition? A couple of synth-pop dweebs from Woodbury-via-The Wedge. Dreadful music, worse "audition". Hated it. I only bring it up, really, as a way of noting that I walked by that same building about a year ago. It's been renovated into lofts that start around $375,000; the building next door where the drunk was passed out is a chi-chi office block. I barely recognized the place.
The other event was "Today", Wednesday. After a bunch of tries, I got a hold of Rob Pendelton at KSTP-AM. "Sorry, I've been so busy - but we have a job working as a screener for the..." I didn't catch the host's name. "We'd like you to come in for an interview next Wednesday".
I accepted, naturally. The bank account was in free fall. My goal; if I didn't have a job I actually wanted by New Years, I was going to take the first security job that I could get.
Posted by Mitch at December 4, 2005 08:09 PM | TrackBack
So you brought JUST the guitar to the audition, eh? You left the bazouki, triangle, recorder, pan flute, bajo sexto and (most importantly) THE BAGPIPES at home?
Or had you not developed skill on these yet at that time?
I mean, a guy wants to put his best foot forward at an audition right?
Posted by: JB Doubtless at December 5, 2005 11:21 AMYour *what* hurts?
Posted by: mitch at December 5, 2005 11:29 AMWha?
Posted by: JB Doubtless at December 5, 2005 01:02 PMI lived in that neighborhood prior to it going upscale. Had a great time, but I wouldn't want to do it again, and I think it would be better to live there now.
Posted by: Will Allen at December 6, 2005 09:19 AMThanks!!! furniture Very nice site.I enjoy being here.
Posted by: furniture at July 7, 2006 09:26 AMThanks!!! furniture Very nice site.I enjoy being here.
Posted by: furniture at July 7, 2006 09:33 AMI guess I was hoping for a mention of the greatest Thanksgiving ever. November of 1985. Seems the whole month was missed. Wild Turkey we ate. Don Vogel doesn't remember it well, nor does Annette Meeks, but Larks were had that November! :-) Yuri...
Posted by: Yuri Gagarin at August 22, 2006 01:20 AM