don't you just love it when interview subjects oblige you to get up early to accommodate their schedules, then bail at the last possible second, after you are full of coffee and unable to go back to sleep? yeah, me too.
anyway, since i'm awake i might as well mention that my "subbacultcha" column this week is about football, specifically the highs and lows of being a gridiron geezer.
and my main man 00soul has the cover of citybeat, with a stellar piece on sleight-of-hand master ricky jay. don't miss it; it's fabulous.
also, this morning on the front page of the l.a. times calendar section is my long and fascinating article about the brilliant musician polly jean harvey, one of my favorites (that's her above, in a times photo by stefano paltera). i interviewed her way back in 1995 for the dearly departed los angeles reader, but that was a phoner. this time i got to meet her in person, and it was great, although i was uncharacteristically nervous. she couldn't have been nicer, complimenting my jacket when we met and noting that we were dressed nearly alike (well, both in black, basically). her own jacket was a gorgeous black crepe with elegant single-button cuffs.
we chatted for a few minutes before starting the interview. i told her i'd gotten the jacket in edinburgh, and about seeing the sheela-na-gig on the church on the isle of harris/lewis. she seemed genuinely delighted by that.
just as i turned on the tape she asked me a question.
"have i met you before?" she peered at me closely, curious.
"we’ve never met, but i did interview you once, on the phone, 12 years ago. if you can believe it."
"i dunno, i just, it was something in the way you were speaking, i just thought i’d spoken to you some time. 12 years ago?"
i nodded. "yeah. you’re still here, i’m still here."
she laughed. "it’s good, isn’t it? that’s good."
it was a trip to think she could possibly have remembered only my voice from one half-hour conversation more than a decade ago. later we learned that we had both been at the black francis show at safari sam's the night before. i hadn't seen her there, but the place is small, and i wondered if maybe she had seen me in the crowd or something. there were a lot more dudes than chicks in the room, so perhaps i stood out. but of course it's more fun to think she did remember my voice. and who am i to argue?