I had the distinct pleasure to see Sun Ra in Austin at Liberty Lunch around 1990. It was a highlight of my life. Sun Ra himself didn’t appear until sometime towards the end of the first song, an almost endless free jazz piece that was immediately followed by one of the horn players crooning a Duke Ellington ballad. Sun Ra was an imposing figure, a big man in a long, light robe. At the end of the set the the audience applauded crazily, calling for more. One of the band members emerged to let the crowd know they were done for the night and that their next gig would be in Japan, should anyone present want to come along.
Just two nights earlier I’d had a bunch of mushrooms and weed, convinced after a couple of hours that my best friend had brought the video we were watching because it was his way of telling me that we were both alien beings. And that he’d been advised by our superiors to prepare me for returning to our home planet.
I started crying once I’d figured this out. My friend turned to me and asked if I understood why he’d brought the video. I told him yes. He asked me to tell him what I thought. I told him my insight about us being aliens; at the end of my story he looked at me and said, “Uh, yeah. That’s why.” Then he turned back towards the tv.
A few minutes later he turned back to me and asked, “Wait, are you serious? Do you think you and I are aliens about to return to our home planet?” I said I did. He rewound the videotape and said, “Okay, we need to watch this again. We’re not aliens.”
The video was the episode of “Miami Vice” with James Brown as a contact for aliens. Anyway, I bring this up because after the Sun Ra concert, I was relieved that I hadn’t done the mushrooms that evening instead. I’d have followed the band to Japan.
I had the distinct pleasure to see Sun Ra in Austin at Liberty Lunch around 1990. It was a highlight of my life. Sun Ra himself didn’t appear until sometime towards the end of the first song, an almost endless free jazz piece that was immediately followed by one of the horn players crooning a Duke Ellington ballad. Sun Ra was an imposing figure, a big man in a long, light robe. At the end of the set the the audience applauded crazily, calling for more. One of the band members emerged to let the crowd know they were done for the night and that their next gig would be in Japan, should anyone present want to come along.
Just two nights earlier I’d had a bunch of mushrooms and weed, convinced after a couple of hours that my best friend had brought the video we were watching because it was his way of telling me that we were both alien beings. And that he’d been advised by our superiors to prepare me for returning to our home planet.
I started crying once I’d figured this out. My friend turned to me and asked if I understood why he’d brought the video. I told him yes. He asked me to tell him what I thought. I told him my insight about us being aliens; at the end of my story he looked at me and said, “Uh, yeah. That’s why.” Then he turned back towards the tv.
A few minutes later he turned back to me and asked, “Wait, are you serious? Do you think you and I are aliens about to return to our home planet?” I said I did. He rewound the videotape and said, “Okay, we need to watch this again. We’re not aliens.”
The video was the episode of “Miami Vice” with James Brown as a contact for aliens. Anyway, I bring this up because after the Sun Ra concert, I was relieved that I hadn’t done the mushrooms that evening instead. I’d have followed the band to Japan.