La Spiaza - Still Open

When was the last time you had a really good night?

Mine was a mere 14 hours ago.

Yesterday was an unusual day because I didn't work, have class, band practice or anything with church. Yes, a full day off. That is the life equivalent of an endangered species. I am proud to report, though they are far and few, and often seen by unforeseen circumstance, they are still about.

I ran errands throughout the day, had a great free lunch at Uncle Julio's Hacienda (Crab-stuffed shrimp. Amazing.), and worked on items for church on Sunday. I still needed to work on my sermon, so Grant and I went to the library for about an hour, hoping to get back in time for NBC's amazing night of comedies. But after putting in an hour of work, I thought to myself, "Self, you should keep working." This is an extra-ordinary amount of discipline for me, so I was hoping to take advantage.

Two obstacles stood in my way.

(1) I really wanted to take a nap. Even though it was 7pm I was really flippin tired, and I figured I wouldn't be productive without one.
(2) I wanted to go to a coffee shop, but in the suburbs they're all closed at 9, and I was hoping to work till at least 10, after my nap.

First things first, I went to bed for a while. 40 minutes later, I woke up, a little groggy, but oddly refreshed. So, now it's 8:15. 45 minutes left for most coffee shops.

Then I remembered La Spiaza, what used to be one of my fave places, was allegedly open till 10. Sure it's 20 minutes away, but totally worth it. I have good memories associated with that place, and I could use the drive. I hopped in my car and headed on over, books in tow.

Commence really good night sequence.

First, when I pulled up, I noticed silly singing and dancing going on through the front window of the shop. Turns out they were doing open mic. The first open mic of a long series of them. Distracting from work, yes. But always fun.

Second, I went to find a seat, since the barista was one of the singers/dancers, and as I found a spot way in the corner, I heard my name. Twice. From two different directions. First was my friend Sarah from college, whom I had introduced this place to a few months back, hanging with one of her friends. Second, my friend Daniel was relaxing with some sudoku. Rarely have I felt so popular as to be called out in public. Twice.

Third, when I went to get my drink, I was encouraged to play the open mic by the enthusiastic barista. I said I had to do some work, but they had a guitar there, so I was totally peer pressured into playing. (Of course, you all know that I don't take much convincing, but we won't tell them that.) I ended up picking out some Jack Johnson, Goo Goo Dolls, and an original. Daniel moved up to the front of the store when I played, which made me feel pretty awesome. He's a great guy.

Fourth, I asked if they still do shows on Fridays and Saturdays, just so I could come out and see one, and the girl whose guitar I used asked, "Oh, you want to book a show?" Not what I was going for at all, but surprisingly fantastic.

Fifth, I actually got some work done. I read in my Luke commentary and really made some progress on where this sermon is going.

Finally, I chatted it up with the barista and learned that they actually close at 9, but if people are there hanging out she stays open for a while longer. How amazing is that?? There are good people in the world. We ended up staying till a little after 10. Sarah and her friend came up and the four of us (including the barista) chatted it up. Also, in my conversation with her she asked about my sermon, which was different, since most of the people I meet don't have a church background. This time I was able to talk about it without any explanation or background. Thank God for Wheaton.

What a good night. I could have stayed home, but I ventured over to a place I thought would be worth the trip, and it totally was. Spagno Cafe may be gone, but I'm quickly rekindling this old flame.

Now, if only it were in the same direction as the rest of my life, we'd be in business.

Play It Forward

Home again, home again; no place like home again. 1,200 miles is long, but a year might be longer.

Last night some friends and I headed up to Austins Coffee, one of my absolute favorite destinations in the Orlando area. Every Tuesday is open mic, which I would frequent as often as possible during my year in town. There is a wide variety of tastes and styles, so you're bound to hear something you'd like. And whatever you don't like, you might hear that, too.

One of my favorite parts about Austins is that there are always friends there. Not close friends, but friends linked by common interest. I got to see Spencer Beasley, Tre Hester, and my married friends from Dirty Soap. I remembered Greg and his wife since they shopped at George's Music (my former job) and played at Austins where we always shared conversation. What I didn't remember is the story Greg shared with me:

"I remember the first time I met you. I was shopping at George's for some stuff and I remember talking to one of the guys about recording some music. They were like, 'Oh, that's cool.'

"Then you came by and asked if I was playing out anywhere and I said I didn't know of any place that we could play our music, so you said, 'Go to Austins,' and gave me your card and the info.

"Now we've been going there every week that we can for about two years, just because you wanted to help me out. Now we tell people all the time. It's really cool. So, thanks."

Really? Like, really, really? I didn't even remember they went to Austins because of me. And crazier, I actually changed someone's weekly schedule, and their lives because they never performed before, and now they do all the time.

It was refreshing to hear some of their renditions of Christmas songs last night. I turned to someone and said about the coffee shop, "You don't know what you've got here." After a sour note, he gave me a sarcastic glance, and I knew he understood.

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