All right, I take back part of what I said about the ads. I called those two guys I mentioned yesterday. The first one, the guy from Oregon, Brian, was nice enough, but I just didn't feel any real connection on the phone. I don't know what I was expecting, but whatever it was, I didn't connect with it. So we had a nice talk, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, and while he was nice enough, it just wasn't there.
That was about 7:30. After I hung up, I went and had some yogurt, checked the mail, looked around online for some things, and then called the other one, Evan.
If you've seen The Truth About Cats And Dogs, you have some idea about how that second call went (except for that weird stuff at the very end of their call, which didn't happen here). But I called him, and he was sort of surprised to hear from me. He said that he never seems to get calls back from any of the ads he's responded to, and he was really pleased I called.
You know how when you really talk to someone, the time goes away, and you never seem to run out of things to talk about? That happened. I mean, I was on my bed, with the phone (not the cordless... I have no idea what kind of battery she had in her phone in the movie, mine runs out in about an hour), and Fargo hopped up on the bed, and then got down, and then wandered around, and we talked, and talked, and talked, and at one point I rolled over, looked at the clock radio, and it said "12:51." We had been talking for three and a half hours, and it was just amazing.
So, all right. Evan is actually his real name (I don't know why I didn't give him a pseudonym like the others), and he's a bassoonist. He's the only "real" musician I've gotten a reply from. He's 31, he lives in Berwyn in a townhouse, and is a mechanical engineer for some company that designs office buildings. However, he went to Wisconsin and was a double major, in music performance and engineering. I have never heard of anyone who did that. On the surface, you might think the two pursuits are totally separate, but if you've ever seen a bassoonist play, the "engineering" aspect of it makes more sense. For example, I am constantly amazed at Jenny, even though she makes it look easy.
He was born in New York, lived in Albany, moved to a place called Juneau, Wisconsin (I've driven through there) in high school, and he has a cat he didn't mention on the voice message. He says it's a huge fat gray cat named L. Ron Hoover. He explained that that was a name that came up in some Frank Zappa album he likes, and the cat seems to like the name. He cross-country skis, he doesn't smoke, he was impressed by my car (he hasn't even seen it yet) and says that if I want, he'll show me how to tune up a diesel.
We sort of described ourselves to each other. You all know what I look like, but I have a hard time describing myself. Yes, I could have simply said, "here, go visit my web page," but I don't think that's a good idea just yet. He said that he's a little over six feet tall, about 190 pounds, brown hair and gray eyes, and he says his hair hasn't turned gray yet. I didn't mention that mine has.
So, yes, Jeanne was very impressed. We decided to meet for lunch on Saturday. We're not doing a rehearsal Saturday because Jenny is going to be home in Pennsylvania and Mary-Therese has a dental appointment. I just have to pick somewhere to go, and then we'll see what happens.
I did check the voicemail, and there was one more message in there. A young man (23) we'll call "Steve" who just sounded way too young. Sorry, "Steve."
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