Cotati – Clara Hsu

Reading with THE GAME

On Super Bowl Sunday, the game, the game, the game was everywhere. During our drive up to Cotati, I held Dore’s small plastic radio in my hands so he could listen to the game. The big TV screen in Cotati’s Redwood Cafe was playing the game (without the sound) when we walked in. There was no escape, even when we were there for a poetry reading.

The Giants scored first. Then the Patriots made a comeback. But the poets were busy untangling cables and setting up mikes. The audience trickled in half-filling the cafe. There were more than a few people who didn’t care about the game.

And when the poets came on stage someone turned off the screen. No wonder the owner of the cafe stayed home today. Super Bowl was forgotten and nobody bothered to check the score after the reading.

It was a super evening to have my son Lawrence and his friend Cameron accompany my reading with their music. It was super to hear Jack and Adelle Foley, and to read with Jack. One of the teams in the game would walk away depressed. There was no such feelings among us.

Photo by Wen Hsu.

We Played Music

I felt the cold tonight. In a heatless storage unit turned music studio in Fremont my son Lawrence, his friend Cameron Brochier and I rehearsed for our February gig in Cotati.

Organizer Geri DiGiorno sounded a bit nervous on the phone when she found out my poetry reading would be accompanied by members of a rock band. I assured her that the music would be more jazzy and bluesy.

But it was the distortion that added a special flavor to the poems. Cameron was pleased that I asked for it and smiled broadly whenever I gave him a thumb-up on his riff.

When I pulled out my Native American drum Lawrence was unsure. “Eh, we’ve never played with native instruments before.”

“No worries,” I told him. “When one ends the other begins.”

We scored the poems, each contributing ideas and moods. The cold was forgotten until we finished. Then, it was bitter.

“Dinner?” I suggested.

“No, we have to do our own rehearsal now.”

I left the guys in their freezer and drove home.

No Contest?

I can’t recall how many times I’ve heard Dore say, “It was the best game ever!” Clearly, the 49’ers had won the game this afternoon. Cars were honking and people were celebrating in the street as I rode home in the bus.

“They going to the Super Bowl now?” I asked Dore.

“Not yet. One more before the final game.”

Super Bowl Sunday is Feb 5. I have a poetry reading in Cotati that day. Someone predicted that my audience will be all women, if I’ll have an audience at all.

You know what I’m thinking but it’s bad form for me to say it. I just wish there are more (a lot more) people who prefer poetry reading than football.