My friend Silva’s new enterprise, Nine Yards Studio, had its launch party tonight, in the space otherwise known as “that place where the bike shop used to be beside where Sam the Record Man used to be.” It was the perfect place to launch a creativity factory.
In an unusual move for me, after decamping for home to carry out parenting duties, I returned for a second go. I’ve never returned for a second go.
Between the time I left, and the time I returned, the mean age dropped 25 years. And as the hour wore on, and even those who Susan Brown called my “age appropriate” familiars left, I was left to silently observe the pulsing of the city’s young creative class. Who knew.
It was an oddly comforting millieu to be immersed in, as I realized that there was no point feeling ill at ease, as the youngsters could not actually see me.
After a feed of oysters and a few more songs from the band, I bundled back into my rain slicker and headed back into the hurricane-like weather for the walk home.
I look forward to seeing what Nine Yards cooks up next.