A Conversation in California

Thursday, February 14th: Mountain View

The scene:About 1:30 a.m. on Castro Street, Mountain View’s main strip. Jill and I are outside Molly McGee’s.

We’d been drinking and dancing for a while. We left as soon as the DJ started playing the Grease Megamix, a crime that should be punishable by public execution followed by public peeing-on. It’s that bad.

(If you want to experience a fraction of its horror, here’s a RealAudio sample. There’s also a MIDI version.)

I wonder how Jamie Zawinski managed to live here without losing his mind.

A group of drunk partygoers — an even mix of men and women — see the accordion and ask the question that most ninety-nine out of one hundred people ask: “Do you know how to play that thing?” I prove that I can by breaking into a couple of popular tunes.

After a couple of tunes, I stop to talk to the group. One of the women is pressing on the keys repeatedly and getting frustrated.

Her: It’s not making any sound!

Me: Of course not.

Her (annoyed, as if I’m playing some kind of joke on her): Why not?

Me: Because I’m not squeezing the bellows right now.

Her: What?

Me: The accordion is just a big harmonica with buttons and an air bag. Sound doesn’t come our of a harmonica by itself; you have to blow air into it to make noise. Same here, except you squeeze the bellows to move air over the reeds.

Her (impressed by my extremely basic science): Wow.

One of the guys: Dude, you’re not from around here, are you? What brings you down here?

Me: I’m visiting my friend Jill [I point to Jill] and am attending a conference in San Francisco tomorrow.

Guy: We’re all from around here. Most of us work at Lockheed.

Her: I’m a mechanical engineer there.

Me (thinking): I am never ever boarding a Lockheed plane again.