Over the weekend I went to the 6th Annual Oakland Art and Soul Festival.  It’s always nice to go to an event in my town where I don’t have to wear kevlar.  Calexico was one of the many bands that played:

They weren’t a revelation, but listening to their music made me think of cacti, desert sand, and tequila. Which is a compliment in my book.

Have you ever noticed that when you go to these things, they have run-down booths with all kinds of hideously expensive food?

It’s like, half the booths were claiming to make money to fight some socio-political injustice, which apparently gives them the right to charge $10.00 for free range tofu or whatever. I don’t think so.  Seven bucks for strawberry shortcake? That had better be tall cake for that much money.

Here’s one incense booth with the most useful sign at the festival: “YES, We Have OXYGEN & EGYPTIAN MUSK.”

Wow, I’m really glad they told me, because I was just about to ask!  Yes, excuse me sir, do you have egyptian musk and, y’know, air?

Rickie Lee Jones was the festival headliner.  The place was packed, so this is the only picture I got of her:

We left pretty quickly anyway because the show was tedious.  Rickie Lee Jones has sung protest songs before.  You know what protest song I’d like to hear?  One that protests boring folk singers.  “Stop Putting My Ears to Sleep” would be a big chartburner if I ruled the world.

On the way out we saw Klymaxx, who hit the charts several decades ago with songs such as “I Miss You” and “Meeting in the Ladies Room.” Well, actually, those were the only two.

At first I was amused because the band was billed as “Klymaxx, featuring original guitarist Cheryl Cooley.” Which is pretty funny, because is that even the same band if it has one original member?  But then I found out that Cooley went and trademarked the band’s name behind the backs of the original members, including founder Bernadette Cooper!  And then she went out and gathered her own musicians and is now touring behind the name.  I’ll bet there’s a meeting in the ladies room, and they’re all deciding to kick Cheryl’s ass.  Seriously, if these guys come to your area, boycott them.  Just walk away from whatever third-tier stage they’re playing at the State Fair, and go see someone with quality and integrity.  Like...like Ted Nugent.

By the way, just to anticipate the usual questions I get whenever I post pictures: No, I don’t know how I became such a natural with the camera, and no, I haven’t considered becoming a professional photographer, and no, I don’t have any advice for aspiring photogs.  Except maybe to say that you can’t find the moment; you have to let the moment find you.  I am considering teaching some college extension courses on the subject, though.  Everyone is welcome to sign up except Cheryl Cooley.