(no subject)
I was playing with the Talking Heads in Stop Making Sense. I was the bassist. We were playing at the Museum of Natural History. Something blew out and we had to pause the show everyone dispersed to find bathrooms because we all had to pee. I ended up having a large black girl show me around the museum to a bathroom. She was a fan and she worked at the museum during the day. In the bathroom we talked about periods. We parted and I went into one of the exhibits that was about wearing special glasses that reversed your eyes. My mother and father were there "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing and so was this old man who looked friendly. He was some family friend and left the exhibit with me to go look for something. He complimented me on my robot tattoo and showed me the tattoo on his wrist. He said it was a robot of the third reich and andro-humanoid (or something like that). The robot of the third reich had similar features as mine did but a different body shape and was red and blue. The andro-humanoid was perpendicular to the other one and practically joined at the head. He was black and didn't look like a robot. We went somewhere but eventually I was left in a hallway and felt bad about dicking around when the show might have eventually went back on. I call 2209 and the woman says she probably can't help me but go ahead. I ask her is the band is still playing. She says something about the show going on or went on and now being over. I go to David Byrne's room and rejoin my band. No one seems to be bothered. The whole band is there. We're listening to music as David is getting ready. His computer is an Apple and when it's time to go back on stage to play our last song (or was this all after our last song?) I have difficultly using the shortcuts I know to shut everything down. The place to shut down is called "Way Out" and I'm amazed by how personalized his computer is. A Talking Heads song plays on his computer and I think he is vain. Then when I'm the last to leave his room he runs towards me and the band completely naked hollering about how he has to go put on his clothes. I don't look at his penis when he is facing me but I look when he's dashing into his room. I see it. (here we may go on stage while I fumble over a bass. this might have already happened)