Carpooling with Meena Kumari

Last night, en route to a concert, Phil and I stopped in Hamtramck to get some Indian takeout for us and some of his friends in the band. We're heading to the Lager House in Detroit, I'm driving and he's sitting in the passenger's seat with a huge paper sack full of Indian food. "I can't tell if this bag is starting to leak, or if it's just really warm," he says. He lifts the bag slightly at which point the bottom falls out and scalding hot curry falls in his lap. Loud cursing ensues. "Pull over, pull over!" he yells, while trying to ignore the pool of lava vindaloo on his jeans.

300 mini napkins later, we get to the Lager House and even managed to salvage three-quarters of the food. Side note: curried okra on the floor of your car at night looks almost identical to a pile of puke. It ain't pretty.

Anyways, the band (Beautiful Loser from Cleveland) was grateful for the food and then they played a kickass set. They covered the Beatles "Tomorrow Never Knows" and it was spectacular. It seems whenever I see an amazing concert in Detroit there are only about six other people there to see it. Strange and sad.

This morning while driving to work I heard a story on NPR about Bollywood movies. The music from the Bollywood movies, mixed with the faint smell of curry still in my car, made for a strangely comforting drive to work today.