How apt. This title: Three.
I "had" recently signed a long lease on a building in the Mission. The top floor was to be my residence and the street level a recording studio. A friend of a friend was a sculptor and I agreed to throw an art opening before the space was filled with a big, clumsy, expensive, badly timed, ungainly, traumatic, wasteful and tragic (more adjectives exist, but are not available) elephant called ... ha! Name withheld. Aw shit, why not? Truth and Beauty Labs, aka T & B.

LSW (Long sentence warning):

Kathy was working at a sculpture gallery down at the Embarcadero Center. (Avoid, avoid, avoid: not seismic, you know what I mean.) Paul, the sculptor, had sculpted and smelted a charming and salesworthy series of bronze frogs, very long-limbed, in various physical poses much like dancers, about the size of an Oscar statue, which the gallery was selling.

For this opening, some of the frogs were rigged hanging in mid-air, some randomly arranged on the grey concrete floor, confetti scattered about.

Kathy came to the show, my ex and she schmoozed, the fact that I was looking for a bass player, the fact that she was playing the bass and writing some songs, that was the beginning, the connection.

Whether Debbie and I considered any one else, I don't recall, but the three of us met to jam at ...

Next entry...