I didn’t plan this out well
:: by Reviewer Rob ::
When author Lisa Crystal Carver announced she’d be doing one of her mini book tours again I’d originally thought the San Diego show Lisa wanted to put on would run itself. She has a way of winging it as a quasi-improv artist. But it really didn’t occur to me she wouldn’t be on stage until the “show” as one might call it was in play and I was climbing the steps to Peter D’s raised karaoke with the other half-dozen or so new amatuer actors and looked down to see Lisa smiling up at us from the bar.
In fact I hadn’t planned to even participate. But there I was, about to read lines from a script Lisa had typed up ostensibly out of an excerpt from her new book I LOVE ART. Earlier I had decided to show up to Peter D’s bar 15 minutes ahead of when the event was to begin, then I’d courteously greet Lisa and her guests and decline any request to have me participate in the “acting” portion of the night. That was the plan. I’d simply have a Bud Light, watch, applaud, and leave. Simple. After all, I’d gotten Lisa the slot that night at the bar to do her thing in San Diego when all the other bars I’d called around to had declined due to previously scheduled bands playing. And it was all done gratis, pro bono, with no pay to me as a promoter or event organizer other than the delicate joy of doing a favor for my old friend Lisa Carver who is a worldwide alt-music and literature/zine-and-book publishing icon. She’s always funny and weird and raw — with far more boldness of internal access than most contemporary writers. I always admire that almost self-destructive willingness to reveal one’s self in writing; it’s something all the best of ’em do. But it’s not easy. So that was the plan, just watch and not be in the show. I mean, I’m the one who got her the gig and now I was also to be expected to do the work too? As if.
That plan faded quickly as I walked up to Lisa and her small ensemble rehearsing their lines in a corner of the bar and she greeted me. “Oh good, here…” she said, handed me a script. “You can be the detective,” she said. I briefly but loudly protested, albeit half-heartedly, saying something about how I didn’t expect to “get roped into this,” and then quickly acquiesced. “Just be cool,” she said. How could I say no to Lisa Carver?
So thats how I got on stage with the cool kids.