A night with Rickie Lee Jones

This is my first post. It couldn't start in a better way. Just come back from a hot evening!
Yesterday I've taken a look at my favourite party sites in search of a cool happening for this night. Scrolling the various events, one of them jumped into my curiosity: a Rickie Lee Jones concert in a place called "Viper", at the north periphery of Florence.
I didn't know Rickie until yesterday night, when I've got some infos about her surfin' on the net. So I realized that she's a songwriter from Chicago, she's called also the "Duchess of Coolsville" and she has been engaged with Tom Waits for a while at the end of the seventhies. But this is constraining. I think so.
I've wake up at full day. It was one o'clock approximately. It has been a hot day. Consider that I live in an apartment on the top floor. Almost a loft. The sun here beats directly on the entire structure. So it's very difficult to be concentrated for study or work when you live in a place like this.
I was undecided if to go or not. After all, I didn't know Rickie's opera until the previous night.
I decided to go after my poor dinner, the third consecutive pasta in two days (yes, I forgot to do the groocery shopping yesterday, today every supermarket has closed) accompained by a local red wine.
So, the time to get some money by the cash dispenser, mounted on the scooter and gone.
I've used 40 minutes to arrive at Viper. Two wrong indications got by improvvised drivers and an unwilling pilgrimage around "Le Piagge" quarter have made my delay at the show.
When I arrived at a standstill, I've encountered a girl with a scooter and my same problem. We have been informed by two young gypsies that the green light near there was the Viper Theatre. I asked the girl about RLJ, she has answered me that she was interested in arriving at the Viper because she had to meet some friends there. Nothing more.
I imagined this place a bit more confortable to reach and to see. I have been disappointed about it. There were some boys in front of the entrance, but all the situation smelled like a desert. I have entered without paying any ticket. There was nobody at the ticket room. I have walked in the theatre room. It 's pretty nice. A big high-ceilinged room, at the bottom the stage, on the left a ramp to reach the lounge bar and the stage gallery, like a terrace.
The atmosphere was very intimate. A few audience, about a hundred people. I have put myself on the "terrace" gallery, so I could follow the concert at the left side of the band.
The stage was decorated by a few oriental stuff, like a chinese lamp attached at one bar of the drums, plus some other indian-like decorated clothes placed on the floor. The best thing was the guitarist, a strange boy with hat, gilet, a flourished dress shirt and a pair of old hip-huggers, with a tall-skinny body: he reminded me a middle way between a busker and a punk...Or like a youngster named Tom Waits! Fantastic presence. At the center, the queen of the event. 52 years old, a great feeling, a great sensitiveness. Rickie Lee James. Definitively, a BP. She has played with a great and unique carisma, driving the band for the entire show. She have played the guitar, bass and piano.
At a certain point of the show, introducing a song, she has said it was written for her mama, passed away last year. While she was saying this, she was looking to me. In effect, I was just in front of her. She was saying that to me for that while. It has been an unspeakable moment. I have felt like I was a friend of her all along.... Every word flowing out from his mouth had a confidential colour. Really, really pleased to have met you, Rickie.
Talking about the band, the guitarist have used an interesting gamma of sounds, from the scratching to the sweety, from the raging to the melancholic. The bassist has been accurate and he has played his fretless with a bow in the final bis track. The drummer have weaved percussive atmospheres for all time and an added musician have played different instruments for each song. Definitively, a positive night. I've got drunk with two Nastro Azzurro, what a shame!...Going back outside to the scooter, I've saluted the bassist and the guitarist. During the return, on the road to home, I felt like I've met again people I didn't see from longer time. I was so a high that I have shout the phrase "SAVE YOURSEEELF" at every whore I met, like a pagan (and drunk) priest devoted to making aware other people from the devil.
These are the typical situations you can't never guess if you don't try to go trough them. I ended up my night with a Kilkenny at "Guerrina" pub. Here I've known a pleasant person, an ice cream maker just come back from Tokio, where he have won a prize for the best hand-made ice cream (he has got a radicchio-flavoured ice cream too). We talked about every general and personal issue for two hours, until our bladders were almost exploding, so we had to salute us and go home. Has another fucking day gone? Yes, but with poetry, as usual. I like so.
Good night, people.