Decline and Fall

Dear Wall Street,

Please, babe, get better. Do you remember that stock market project we did, back in the good old days? You know, the 90s? I miss that.

Yours,
Aries

--


Rebel Diaz, playing at the Sco, was so good. They were three singers, two of them siblings, who sang political populist hip-hop. The lone woman of the group was one of the tightest, most amazing rappers I've ever heard. Their beats were dance-able- if they hadn't been such a powerhouse performance, I'dve been rocking out in the back, trying out what I learned at SPARK.

SPARK was demented in a good, life-affirming way. Hip-hop is not my traditional domain, but I do like it. I didn't get a shuffle-step, but I got most of the rest. I'm a fan of top-rock; I'm not looking forward to pikes, except in the awful-bits that like when I fail at things. I take a long time to learn movement styles; I need a lot of repetition and things don't come naturally to me. Expecially... uh.. hard things. Like anything that involves balance.

Post-Diaz, we went to Agave for the coffee and burritos. It's nice that something other than Downtown Pizza and the Feve stays open past midnight on a weekend. Especially when that thing is Agave. Blessed Agave.