The City and Serendipity

This past Friday, I experienced yet again why I am called to be in Phoenix. Many people tend to feel directionless and uncertain of the particular location in which they dwell. As I've expressed in my past few blog entries, it's pretty clear that I do not feel that way.

Early in the evening, I headed to my friend's apartment, where we shared bowls of Indian food together, complete with naan, rice, beans, yellow curry, tofu, and a side of heirloom tomatoes topped with oil and some sprinkled cheese. It was delicious and filling, and we each had a glass of red wine to cap the variety of tastes in the meal. Everyone else was too tired to go out, but I had promised my friend JRC that I would head to his venue, The Trunk Space, to check out a benefit show featuring some local bands I enjoy.

As I biked over to the venue, I mused about how I was a little tired, and really only wanted to see one of the performers, the secretive Daryl Scherrer. Scherrer rarely plays out anymore in Phoenix, but I've managed to find copies of each of his cardboard-bound CDs hidden in the racks of the Trunk Space's music section. The singer-songwriter croaks out dark, dirty folk and country-tinged songs, speaking with experience of a hard life in the world.

Upon arriving at the venue, I came upon two unexpected sights for the venue I loved and attended so much: an early arriving crowd, and one mostly aged 65+. The show was a benefit for Gina's Team, "an all Volunteer organization dedicated to bringing community leaders, speakers and educators into prisons to teach Life Skills." I suppose the charity group itself helped explain the crowd?

As the first group took the stage, the vast majority of the audience remained in the back, their din lessening not in the slightest to accommodate the haphazard folk music of Wayward Horses, who meekly played roughly three songs (with several stops and starts along the way) before retiring to load in arguably the most-traveled group of the night, Trunk Space heroes Dogbreth. 

Dogbreth drove out the elderly folks with its rollicking pop-punk sound, reeling the few younger attendees to the front to bounce around jovially through their set. A fun-filled set to be sure, and a needed reminder that there are just certain groups I can never see too many times.

Finally, it came time for Mr. Scherrer to take the stage. His large, tuneful black electric guitar perfectly accented his rough, rattled vocals as he tread through the first few songs of his set. Then, something quite unexpected happened. 

The front door to the venue opened, and in stepped ten women, all carrying instruments, all in matching outfits: Mariachi Pasion, Arizona's premier female mariachi group, and the first such group to ever perform at the Trunk Space (a rare occurrence considering the myriad performances which take place at the venue). Following a rousing eight-song set, replete with gringo covers, the show came to a close, and my friend and I were gifted a pie from our friends Liam and Dana, who were selling on behalf of their shop, Bragg's Factory Diner, to help fundraise through the evening. We then proceeded to chat with Steph, the other owner of the venue and a handful of other "regulars," before walking home along Grand Avenue.

Along the way, we were called to from behind. It was our dear friend, Aaron from our favorite book shop, Lawn Gnome. As it turned out, he had been driving to the shop to write a poem for his mother-in-law's memorial service the next day. He had been out of town all week, tending to his wife and budding family. We offered him a piece of pie, which he gratefully ate.

And so we chatted. About the city. About the show. About the pie. Anything to get his mind off the past week. Along the way, another passing fellow took a slice from our tin. 

All this along Phoenix's famed diagonal at 11pm on a Saturday night. Just the kind of strange connection this city breeds.

And for that, I couldn't be more grateful.