Blogging and online-ness has a certain ruthless temporality to it. If you write about current events, there’s a strong – norm? – to write about things as close to when they happened as possible. It’s the Twitterfication of the blogosphere, I suppose. If you aren’t curating your life’s experience AS IT HAPPENS, then your content is suspect.
However, sometimes it can’t be helped. Case in point: my (current) review of (last week’s) Cheap Wine and Poetry event at the Richard Hugo House here in Seattle. It was the 5th year anniversary of CW&P, and, judging by the applause when asked, I was one of a sizable contingent who were attending CW&P for the first time.
Where to start?
Although I didn’t do a precise count, there were probably 120 people, very definitely standing room only. I came in just as things were getting underway and found a spot along the back wall, near the restroom, the cross traffic, and, occasionally, near the drunk guy mumbling into his cell phone; he was of a peripatetic inclination, however, and made the rounds of the various rooms throughout the night.
The Hugo House Commons, for I assume that this area *must* be the Commons, is very much laid out in an old-house sort of way – a few rooms adjacent to each other, each opening towards a small stage. But the layout has a charm to it, and I’d like to take another look at the place in the daylight.
Next: wine. You can’t talk about Cheap Wine and Poetry without mentioning the wine, can you? I enjoyed a decent Syrah, and, at only $1 per glass, I find nothing to complain about. It’s a bargain at twice the price! The only downer: to get wine, you had to sort of stand in front of people who were trying to see the show. In a transparent attempt to live up to the Seattle ideal of passive, smug kindness, I limited myself to one glass, obtained at the start of the show.
However – however! This was not the sort of show were one has to be drunk to enjoy it. The readers, chosen in a “best of” selection process, were, on average, spectacular. There were a couple misses – it WAS a poetry reading – but the hits were great. Of note: Nicole Hardy, who read selections from her book about the Mudflap Girl. She’s charismatic and witty and charming and has an undeniable physical stage presence. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. Also: Keri Healey, who read a short story that just blew my Smart Wools right off – funny and somber and disarmingly real. Best pure prose of the evening, in my opinion. John Burgess, who I don’t know and have never met but am sure I would like, did a series of readings accompanied by a background bassist.
There was another reading I liked, by a young woman whose name I didn’t catch and am too lazy to Google, but it was fresh and direct and slightly ribald and refreshingly long. If you’re going to use the list as a structural device, make it a long list. At one point – maybe about item 15 or so – the aforementioned drunkie asked “How many more” and this young woman deftly replied, “A lot – I’ve been dating a long time!” *zing*.
There were more readings, but none which particularly stood out. Oh, and a very strange, Twilight-zone-ish set of intermission pieces where images of Hugo House writer and marketing guy Brian McGuigan were photoshopped into various scenes of gay domesticity. Inventive, kooky, and, by the end, as the images moved from the living room to the bedroom, slightly discomforting. ROFL.
The evening ended, as all good evenings should, with a public spanking.
Thanks to all the Hugo House staff and volunteers for a great event.