Fancy Italian Words

Off to California

2012-01-19T22:31:00.008-06:00

Mom and friend, 1956

Mulling over my next trip to California, I realized something surprising. Though our Dairy State roots stretch back for generations, my family has been sending shoots into the Golden State for nearly as long.

My grandpa's older brother, Pete, was the first to heed the Western call. He and his wife headed to Crescent City in the 1940's, and lived the rest of their lives there near the redwoods.

Uncle Pete on the right. One of my grandma's sisters with the baseball bat.

Most of my dad's siblings would grow up and leave for California as well, at least for a time. My uncle Chuck moved to San Francisco. My aunt Kathy joined him for awhile, and my cousin Michelle was born there. My aunt Judy and her husband lived in Poway for decades. My cousin John is a firefighter in San Diego. My cousin Tracy and her family live there, too. When the Air Force returned my uncle John and his wife to the U.S. from Iceland, California was the first place they were stationed.

Aunt Judy and baby Tracy at home

Grandpa and Grandma visiting San Francisco (I think?)

Toward the end of her high school career, my mom's best friend Karen moved to Canoga Park. For the next six years, until she got married, Mom spent six or seven weeks each summer visiting Karen. They went to the beach, Catalina Island, Tijuana, Disneyland, and saw shows at Whisky a Go Go. Mom spend more time in the Los Angeles of the 1960's than I've spent in any one place away from home. When I watch "Mad Men" episodes set in California, I can't help imagining Mom and her friends passing through the scenes.

Top: Mom and Pooh, Disneyland. Bottom: Don Draper in California (photo from AMC)

When my dad joined the Marine Corps in 1960, he trained at Twenty-Nine Palms. He brought the family back in 1984, during our California vacation. Any real memories I had have long since been supplanted by a few minutes of "movie camera" footage Dad captured from our rental car: Marines marching in the distance, quietly (or so it is on the tape) chanting in their familiar cadence.

Dad, Marine Corps era

That 1984 trip was my first vacation outside Wisconsin. Dad attended a business conference in San Francisco - I recall silent film of Alcatraz from the same home movie reel - and the rest of us flew out to join him. First we stayed with Karen, who was married to an actor and living in Agoura Hills. They had a stable on their land, and their daughter - a year older than I - had an honest-to-god pony. On a swing set near the edge of the hilltop property, I felt as if I were flying out over the valley below with each upswing.

We proceeded to a hotel in Costa Mesa whose most salient feature to a four-year-old was the huge pool. Then we visited my aunt and uncle and cousins in Poway. They also had a pool, kidney-shaped, in which my sisters gave me "swimming lessons." In other words, they removed my water wings and repeatedly staged the pool equivalent of Charlie Brown and Lucy with the football.

One of my sisters, 15, by the pool. No idea how they convinced her to pose for this.

My aunt and uncle also had lemon trees, which, to a small child from Wisconsin, seemed like something that should not exist in real life. We went to the ocean, to Disneyland, to Universal Studios, to Knott's Berry Farm. Those were fun, but the kidney-shaped pool and the pampering from my supercool, sunshine-blonde, 14-year-old cousin were the best. I wanted to stay.

Me, standing in C3PO's footprints

I was not allowed to stay. But I have returned to California more times than I can count. Visiting family has turned into visiting friends, and even a few business trips of my own. I have favorite haunts in Los Angeles these days. More than any other state outside Wisconsin, California pops up in my family's history ... and in our current lives. No wonder I find myself drawn back again and again.

Across from Oakville Grocery, 2005

2011 in review: Live Music

2012-01-13T20:48:00.005-06:00

And now, the last recap for 2011.

Total shows (counting each day of multi-day events): 46
Up six from last year's total of 40.

Performers seen for the first time (headlining, in this particular incarnation): 5
(Gillian Welch, The Baseball Project, The Levon Helm Band, Mavis Staples, Feist)

Performers seen for the first time (support or other variety setting): 29
(including Mountain Man, Teddy Thompson, Justin Townes Earle, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Smith Westerns, Arctic Monkeys, Syl Johnson and the Sweet Divines, Paul Simon, The Walkmen, and Nick Lowe)

Seen most often: Wilco, Liam Finn, Nick Lowe, Bon Iver

Fond concert memories of 2011, in no particular order:

The opening notes of Bon Iver's first concert since 2009, at the Riverside
The Decemberists playing "Grace Cathedral Hill" in Milwaukee, perhaps because I asked
Chatting with and getting a hug from Mavis Staples after her Green Bay show
The Old 97's April Fool's Day fakeout ending, which led to playing "Timebomb" twice in the same show
The National leading an audience singalong to "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks," with no amplification
The Baseball Project playing in the stands at the Mallards Duck Pond and eating cheese curds
Jeff Tweedy covering three Black Eyed Peas songs at the @mayoremanuel book release party
U2 playing a glorious version of "One Tree Hill" for the twenty-fifth anniversary of Greg Carroll's passing
Neil Finn joining Wilco for a cover of Split Enz's "I Got You" on the heels of Wilco's own "I Got You" at Solid Sound

Let's go, 2012.

2011 in review: Books

2012-01-05T19:44:00.003-06:00

For the sixth year, here's a list of books I read between last January and December. A bit of number crunching to follow:

1. The Forest People - Colin M. Turnbull
2. Zombie Spaceship Wasteland - Patton Oswalt
3. U2 At the End of the World - Bill Flanagan
4. Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade - Diana Gabaldon
5. Juliet - Anne Fortier
6. Lord John and the Hand of Devils - Diana Gabaldon
7. A Natural History of the Senses - Diane Ackerman
8. Skippy Dies - Paul Murray
9. Sh*t My Dad Says - Justin Halpern
10. Fall For Anything - Courtney Summers
11. The Help - Kathryn Stockett
12. Room - Emma Donoghue
13. Animals and Objects In and Out of Water - Jay Ryan
14. The Dirty Life: On Farming, Food, and Love - Kristin Kimball
15. Chocolate & Vicodin - Jennette Fulda
16. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks - Rebecca Skloot
17. The Memory Palace - Mira Bartok
18. Started Early, Took My Dog - Kate Atkinson
19. Let it Be - Colin Meloy
20. Bossypants - Tina Fey
21. The Gunslinger - Stephen King
22. Freedom - Jonathan Franzen
23. The Drawing of the Three - Stephen King
24. The Waste Lands - Stephen King
25. Wizard and Glass - Stephen King
26. Wolves of the Calla - Stephen King
27. Song of Susannah - Stephen King
28. The Dark Tower - Stephen King
29. The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex - Kristen Schaal & Rich Blomquist
30. Veins - Drew
31. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
32. A Game of Thrones - George R. R. Martin
33. The Wilder Life - Wendy McClure
34. A Clash of Kings - George R. R. Martin
35. A Storm of Swords - George R. R. Martin
36. A Feast for Crows - George R. R. Martin
37. The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins
38. Sweet Valley Confidential - Francine Pascal
39. Catching Fire - Suzanne Collins
40. Swimming to Antarctica - Lynne Cox
41. Sisterhood Everlasting - Ann Brashares
42. Atonement - Ian McEwan
43. Mockingjay - Suzanne Collins
44. Incognito: the Secret Lives of the Brain - David Eagleman
45. The Tipping Point - Malcolm Gladwell
46. Duma Key - Stephen King
47. Into Thin Air - Jon Krakauer
48. Janes Jones: Worst. Vampire. Ever. - Caissie St. Onge
49. One Day - David Nicholls
50. The Deep End of the Ocean - Jacqueline Mitchard
51. No Time to Wave Goodbye - Jacqueline Mitchard
52. My Father’s Daughter - E.L. Konigsburg
53. The Mysterious Edge of the Heroic World - E.L. Konigsburg
54. A Secret Gift - Ted Gup
55. The Unfinished Angel - Sharon Creech
56. The Castle Corona - Sharon Creech
57. Somewhere in Time - Richard Matheson
58. Return to the Hundred Acre Wood - David Benedictus
59. Wildwood - Colin Meloy
60. The Unwritten Vol. 1 - Mike Carey
61. The Unwritten Vol. 2 - Mike Carey
62. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian - Sherman Alexie
63. Five Very Good Reasons to Punch a Dolphin in the Mouth - Matthew Inman
64. The Elegance of the Hedgehog - Muriel Barbery
65. Dance with Dragons - George R.R. Martin
66. The Cat's Table - Michael Ondaatje
67. A Stolen Life - Jaycee Dugard
68. Ashes - Ilsa J. Bick
69. Secret Daughter - June Cross
70. 11/22/63 - Stephen King
71. The Unwritten: Dead Man's Knock - Mike Carey
72. Snow in Summer - Jane Yolen
73. Ella Enchanted - Gail Carson Levine
74. Boy's Life - Robert McCammon
75. The Apothecary - Maile Meloy
76. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson
77. The Girl Who Played With Fire - Stieg Larsson
78. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - Stieg Larsson
79. The Scottish Prisoner - Diana Gabaldon
80. The Disappointment Artist: Essays - Jonathan Lethem
81. The Family Fang - Kevin Wilson
82. Blue Nights - Joan Didion
83. Black Notice - Patricia Cornwell
84. The Last Precinct - Patricia Cornwell

Total books read: 84. Two more than I read in 2010.

Previously read: 15 (18%) About the same as last year's 17%.

Marketed for children/teens: 14 (17%) The same as last year's 17%.

Fiction: 60 (71%)
Nonfiction: 24 (29%)
Even more fiction-y than last year's 63% - 37%.

You should definitely read: Bossypants by Tina Fey and A Secret Gift by Ted Gup. Tina Fey is smart and awesome and hilarious and supercool and I want us to be best friends. Maybe you'd like to be Tina's best friend too. But until that happens, you can tide yourself over with her excellent memoir. "A mother's prayer for her child," among other things, is just about perfect. A Secret Gift (full title: A Secret Gift: How One Man's Kindness--and a Trove of Letters--Revealed the Hidden History of the Great Depression) was a book I picked up on a whim at my local library. Gup tells the story of the anonymous man who offered $10 to seventy-five Ohio families before Christmas in 1933, based on personal letters of application. The anonymous man was Ted Gup's grandfather, Sam Stone, as Ted discovered - along with all of the letters - in 2009. He tracked down living relatives of recipients to find out how the gift impacted their lives. Their stories are interwoven with the story of Sam Stone, and it becomes apparent that Sam's 1933 philanthropy was just one of his many secrets.

Don't bother reading: No Time to Wave Goodbye by Jacqueline Mitchard. I had previously read two of Mitchard's books, Cage of Stars and The Deep End of the Ocean, and enjoyed both. So when I found out that a sequel to The Deep End of the Ocean existed, I couldn't wait to read it. Well ... I should have waited. Maybe forever. I have no idea what happened between the writing of Ocean and the writing of Goodbye, but the difference between the two felt like the difference between the first books of the Baby-Sitters Club series, awesomely written by Ann M. Martin, and book #192, Claudia and the Haunted Ring Ding Wrapper (or whatever), written by some ghost writer who'd barely skimmed the previous books. In short: it is not good.

2011 in review: Travel

2012-01-02T17:56:00.000-06:00

Bon 2012! Here is the first of three retrospective posts about 2011.

States visited (not counting layovers): 10

Illinois, Iowa, Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, New York, Massachusetts, Hawaii, Tennessee, Louisiana

New states: 1
Louisiana. Although I still want to visit New Orleans, a business trip finally allowed me to check Louisiana off my list. Maybe I didn't have a chance to sample beignets at Cafe du Monde, but I did spend lots of time with some awesome Shreveport natives, and learned all about law based on Napoleonic Code.

States left before I reach 50: 4

Wyoming, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota. I'm down to one large four-state square. There's been talk of a trip to Montana with Heidi and Allison in 2013. But if I can carve out some time, it shouldn't be hard to hit all four of these at once (she said, inventing an airport in Belle Fourche, South Dakota).

Countries visited: 0
2011 was the first year in a long time during which I didn't travel abroad. There is another sabbatical on the horizon for 2012 or 2013, so I've had that thought to tide me over. Plus, there was Hawaii.

What's ahead for 2012? For one thing, my triumphant return to California! Maybe a sabbatical. Hopefully at least one new state.

However close we get sometimes

2011-12-26T05:05:00.001-06:00

The fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth shows of Christmas all belonged to Wilco. In 2008, the band played their legendary five-night Winter Residency in Chicago. In 2011, they did something similar: five shows at increasingly smaller venues. Monday night's show was at the Civic Opera House, home of the Lyric Opera of Chicago, capacity 3,458. By the following Sunday's finale, they were playing the 507-person Lincoln Hall.

Through the generosity and cooperation of others, much refreshing of ticket websites, and pinch of sheer luck, I managed tickets to all five shows. I set up camp at Paul's, and spend a great week in the company of friends. In addition to the shows, I managed to hit all of my top Chicago eateries, the MOCA for Andrew Bird's Sonic Arboretum exhibit, and two movies that show no sign of coming to Madison anytime soon.

The concerts, of course, were the week's main events. They all had their own special features: the faux snowfall and special guests Mavis Staples and Nick Lowe at the Civic Opera House, adding an unplanned (or at least not-on-the-written-setlist) "I'm a Wheel" to the end of the Riv show, a shirtless Josh on cowbell at the Vic, the sweaty rock show vibe of the Metro, the almost-unnerving intimacy of Lincoln Hall. I don't think I'd ever seen Wilco at a 500-person venue. There was plenty of conversation between the band and audience, and the room was quiet enough (at least for most of the first set) to hear the final notes of every song.

Throughout the five shows (spanning seven nights), the band went above and beyond expectations. The shrinking hometown venues were "gimmick" enough, if they needed one, but they also played ninety-nine different songs over those five evenings. They also bought coffee for the line of fans waiting outside in the cold before the Riviera, Vic, and Metro shows ... although Jeff joked that we'd be billed later.

To sum it all up: this was an excellent way to spend a week in mid-December. Any time Wilco wants to play five shows in Chicago, I'll do my best to be there. Even if/especially if it comes on the heels of a few other shows of interest.

The Eight Shows of Christmas concluded my concertgoing for 2011. Next week, it's time to recap - music, books, and travel - and look ahead to 2012.

Maybe you'll rest sometime

2011-12-19T22:52:00.004-06:00

Over the past ten days, I have seen eight concerts. That's a pretty intense pace even for me, so I find myself both sorry that it's over and relieved to have some free time. It's certainly been a hell of a mid-December.

The Eight Shows of Christmas began on December 9th, when I saw Wilco in Milwaukee. It wasn't long since I last saw the band - they played Madison just two months prior. Despite the primo seats in Madison, I think I enjoyed Milwaukee a little more. The show was loud and featured a fantastic encore bookended by Outta Mind (Outta Site) and Outtasite (Outta Mind) - two versions of the same song, one complete with a "Jingle Bells" outro. Meeting up with friends for my first meal at Mader's and belting out "Who Stole the Kishka" at the Old German Beer Hall before the show set the tone for the night, and the week-plus to come.

Show Two was the next night: Bon Iver at the Orpheum in Madison. It was my first show at the refurbished Orpheum: new lower stage, and the floor seats nearly gone. This was a decidedly different feel from the small pit/seven-foot-stage Orpheum with which I was familiar. As far as I'm concerned, the changes are all to the good. Once again this was a sort of homecoming for the band; their first show back in Wisconsin since the tour began. The Madison show was sandwiched between Bon Iver playing the UIC Pavilion in Chicago, and two more arena shows in Eau Claire. Seeing the band in a relatively intimate theater, on the heels of four Grammy nominations, was a wonderful opportunity. The setlist wasn't markedly different from the shows I saw at the Riverside this summer, but the 9-piece band's songs seemed looser and less mathematically precise. There was more give and take. The version of "Blood Bank" that this lineup plays has become my favorite song to hear live, and the Madison performance absolutely delivered. The solo "Re:Stacks" felt more emotionally naked than ever, and we were close enough to see every detail.

Show Three was the following night: Ryan Adams at the Cadillac Palace in Chicago. I hadn't seen a Ryan Adams show since 2007 at the Barrymore, and the setting was quite different. 2007 was in a 900-capacity general admission theater, and 2011 was in a 2300-capacity opera house. Ryan was solo this time, and cycled between two guitar stations and a piano. He spent most of the show sitting, and even the "fast" album songs he played were reworked into slower, softer arrangements. He also talked to the audience - a lot. Possibly too much. My favorite parts of the show were old favorites like "Sylvia Plath" and "Come Pick Me Up," and the two improvised songs about the evening that Ryan composed in situ.

November came and went

2011-11-27T17:29:00.001-06:00

It seems like November has gone in the blink of an eye - Thanksgiving is already behind us, and the weeks from now until Christmas promise to fly by. Let's turn back the clock to last weekend, when I saw an Avett Brothers doubleheader at the Riverside in Milwaukee.

I've only seen the Avetts a handful of times, including these shows, so perhaps it's not surprising I was unaware of their early entry presale policy before this tour. For most GA shows, it seems, the first 30 tickets purchased through the band's presale get early entry to the venue. I was lucky enough to be among the thirty on both nights, and let me just say: I highly recommend it. Especially during winter months.

I'd entertained thoughts of grabbing a balcony seat for the second night, but in the end I couldn't resist the allure of the front pit. In retrospect, I'm glad I chose to stand. I'm no expert on the Avett Brothers catalog or live shows, but judging from those who are, this two-night stand was one for the ages. Particularly Saturday night, despite the soundboard computer system crashing during the first song. Sorting things out took a little while, but the crowd was rewarded with a long, passionate set full of deep cuts - including a song that had only been played once before. Every song, from the ones I know well to those I'd never heard, was entertaining. The band's enthusiasm is infectious, and the crowd was happy to give it back.

As often happens when I see more than one concert by an artist within a short amount of time, I got that familiar itch: I wanted to see more. The fact that so many different songs were played over the two nights exacerbated the situation. It's probably a good thing for me that the Avett Brothers are more or less finished touring for the moment.

November trips

2011-11-09T21:21:00.000-06:00

I was in LA this week. Only, this time, I mean Louisiana. I volunteered for a business trip to Shreveport, so I'm now able to cross state number 46 off my list. I can't say that I got a particularly classic Louisiana experience - most of my waking hours were spent working - but I did meet many locals. I still have to make it to New Orleans one day, but until then, at least I've dipped my toe into Louisiana waters.

The trip to Shreveport came directly on the heels of another trip, this one for pleasure. U's birthday celebration took place in New York City, and I was happy to be a part of it. The fun officially began with a much-anticipated dinner of Momofuku fried chicken, and progressed from there to Slane to see the awesome Martin Rivas. In the ensuing three days I managed to fit in a Conan taping at the Beacon Theatre; Feist in Brooklyn; the 9/11 Memorial, Occupy Wall Street, Coney Island, and Brighton Beach with Allison, Jeff, and Nils; CocoMoCA, Central Park, the Jesse Eisenberg play Asuncion, and a visit to Kristina and Julio to meet their brand new baby girl. And more food, of course. Russian dumplings, Donut Plant, Meatball Shop, cookies from Levain. Mmmm. I'll be back, New York.

When October rolls around

2011-10-25T20:42:00.000-05:00

I saw Rhett Miller at the High Noon Saloon on Friday night. As usual, he played an entertaining show. There were Madison-related anecdotes - playing at der Rathskellar with Jon Langford, writing a song in a Madison hotel room while looking out the window at the capitol. Rhett played a pretty extensive set, too. He originally had two dozen songs on the setlist, but pointed out at some point that he'd already added at least three. Despite forgetting the start of one of the verses of "504," Rhett's efforts to play a "special" song he hadn't played in awhile were appreciated. I enjoy hearing the newer songs, but old favorites like "Over the Cliff" and "Wish the Worst" never disappoint. There's nothing quite like shouting "Success on someone else's terms don't mean a fuckin' thing!" with a rowdy Friday night crowd. The encore brought opener Alex Dezen on stage to join Rhett on the Tom Petty classic "American Girl," an unexpectedly satisfying treat at the end of the night.

Capitol city

2011-10-09T20:07:00.000-05:00

Last week I saw Wilco in two capitol cities: Nashville, and my own city of Madison. The Nashville shows over the weekend comprised my second Ryman experience, every bit as good as the first. The old church sounds amazing, even from up front, and soul can be felt in every inch of the room. The Overture is a beautiful theater - downright formal compared to the Ryman, though I've warmed to it as a concert setting in recent months.

Seeing Wilco for the first time since Solid Sound back in June, I was eager to hear songs from the new album in person. Although I've seen a few performed before - solo, duo, and six-piece - that was before I really knew them. Over the course of these three shows I was lucky enough to see all but one. ("Sunloathe," I'll get you eventually.) "Capitol City," which opened the Madison show, was a fun and fitting beginning. "Open Mind" was debuted by a full band on the Ryman stage, also a fitting locale for the most traditional of the Whole Love songs. "Born Alone" soared, and "Art of Almost" fractured and built itself up again.

Then again, it wasn't all about the new songs. The second Ryman show began with "Less Than You Think," one of the most beautiful lyrics Jeff has ever written (in my humble opinion). I think Sunday was the first time I'd seen it played since early 2008, and it gave me goosebumps. "Shouldn't Be Ashamed" and "Box Full of Letters" were also welcome inclusions from A.M. I admit to missing songs from Summerteeth - only "Via Chicago" and "Shot in the Arm" were played over the three shows - but I have faith that they're not gone for good.

Wilco shows wouldn't be complete without the requisite stage banter. In Nashville Jeff's talk mostly centered around the crowds both nights, with a jab or two at the zealous security guards. In Madison, there were sports metaphors and some talk about the Brew Crew, though I can only assume Jeff is sending the team fewer good wishes at the moment against the Cardinals. He also brandished the actual proposal from last year declaring the members of Wilco to be honorary citizens of Madison. "We are home," Jeff proclaimed, reading the following passage:

WHEREAS, Wilco has visited Madison and played concerts here at least thirteen times since 1995 (including a show at Club DeWash in February of 1995); and,

WHEREAS, Jeff Tweedy says of Madison: ‘We really like it here’; and,

WHEREAS, Wisconsinites generally have a love/hate relationship with all things from Illinois but the sold-out show at the Overture Center on February 21, 2010 (sic) had only love for this band from Chicago; and,

WHEREAS, at least one member of the Common Council attended the show and can attest to its excellence; and,

WHEREAS, The Isthmus called Wilco ‘America’s shiniest rock object’; and,

WHEREAS, Duluth, MN may be cool, but we would not want it said that either that fine city or its mayor are cooler than Madison and our mayor (even if Mayor Dave is not sure who Jeff Tweedy is); and...

"I can't wait to whip this out when we get arrested later," Jeff joked.

Neither the Nashville shows nor Madison would have been the same without "36 Inches" and "I Love My Label," which saw the legendary Nick Lowe joining Wilco on stage. Nick's opening sets were terrific, and the happiness of everyone on stage during the collaborations was a joy to behold. Nick will be along again for Wilco's shows in December, including a stop in Milwaukee. I'm looking forward to seeing what else they might have up their sleeves. Seven-man cover of "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding," anyone?

In the city only for awhile

2011-10-03T21:58:00.000-05:00

This weekend was a three-shows-in-three-nights deal for me, and it began on Friday night in Chicago with Fleet Foxes. (Fun fact: it was my fourth time at the Chicago Theatre, but two of the four have been for Conan O'Brien.) Fleet Foxes have come a long way since I saw them open for Wilco, and even since I saw them at Metro a couple of years ago. Selling out two shows at the Chicago Theatre is pretty impressive, and the band was up to the task. Although the pauses between songs felt a little long (or maybe just too quiet), the music was all it should be. I only saw Night 1, but the sound was superb and the setlist was thorough. It's hard to be really "varied" when a band has two full-length albums and an EP to its name, but we heard songs from all of them (including the newest record almost in its entirety) plus a new song from Robin Pecknold. It was cool to hear a solo song in the midst of the concert, but I could listen to the harmonies all night.

It was another time for me

2011-09-26T14:50:00.006-05:00

Liam Finn played Lincoln Hall on Friday night, and I was there. This show felt more polished than the last time I saw Liam in Chicago, which makes sense - he hasn't just lost a band member, and they've been touring on the new album for awhile now. The new three-piece we saw at the Hideout has become a four-piece with the advent of Eliza-Jane Barnes. EJ's presence allowed the band to play a song from the Eliza-Jane/Liam EP, "Plane Crash," a great song I'd been missing at recent shows. The setlist was split about evenly between songs from FOMO and songs from I'll Be Lightning, plus the aforementioned "Plane Crash" ... and a cover song. At midnight it was Liam's 28th birthday, celebrated on stage with a toast and plenty of alcohol. The audience sang "Happy Birthday," and then the band launched into the Beatles' "Birthday."

Oddly enough, this wasn't the first time I'd seen Liam and his band play "Birthday" on the Lincoln Hall stage. In 2009 they broke it out in honor of another birthday - crew or audience member; I can no longer recall.

After the show, Rob got Liam's signature on his well-traveled acoustic guitar. Liam also played most of "Come As You Are," a little post-show bonus for the loitering bar patrons. The show ended too late to hit Kuma's, but Liam playing Nirvana was a nice consolation prize.

Tonight's gonna be a good night

2011-09-07T19:45:00.007-05:00

Yesterday was my friend Sam's birthday! To celebrate her birthday, I met up with with Sam and a few other friends at the Hideout in Chicago for The F***ing Epic Twitter Quest of @MayorEmanuel book release party, to be followed by dinner at Longman & Eagle.

The evening started off on a high note as DJ John Tolva spun some records and the real live Mayor Rahm Emanuel circulated in the music room. When Dan Sinker (the author of the book and fake @MayorEmanuel Twitter feed) took the stage, he announced that the mayor had signed his book: "You are an asshole - Mayor Emanuel."

First on the agenda was a book reading from cab driver and author Dmitry Samarov, followed by four excellent beat poetry performances by Louder Than A Bomb, a group composed of Chicago high school students. Next, author Megan Stielstra read a selection from her upcoming book. After that, Dan Sinker took the stage again, to introduce the evening's mystery guest.

The musical portion of the book release event had been billed as "Surprise Musical Guest Performing the Music of the Black Eyed Peas," but astute readers of the @MayorEmanuel Twitter feed might have been able to hazard a guess. Back in January, when a certain musician performed at a fundraiser for the real Rahm Emanuel, the @MayorEmanuel alter-ego had a few things to say about it:

Dan Sinker never expected his flight of fancy to become a reality, but guess what? Sometimes it happens. Last night it did, as Jeff Tweedy got up and performed three Black Eyed Peas songs: "I Gotta Feeling," "Rock That Body," and the classic "My Humps." The last was performed dramatic reading style, sans guitar. Sometimes it was hard to hear the guitar anyway, over the roars of laughter coming from the audience. I could give more details, but why do that when I could just show you?

(from Time Out Chicago)

(from gigettink)

Jeff Tweedy recites "My Humps" from Jasmine D on Vimeo.

Dan Sinker finished things off with a reading from The F***ing Epic Twitter Quest of @MayorEmanuel, and then it was off to Longman with us. And eventually, my drive back home. Was I tired at work today? Amazingly, no! Must have been the rejuvenating power of the Black Eyed Peas and porchetta.

Five things: living room

2011-08-24T18:16:00.001-05:00

Inspired by some of Allison's recent blog entries, here are five things I like in my living room:

1. Coffee table. I don't know much about its history, only that it belonged to my grandma and then my mom, it spent a lot of time in the basement, and I stole it when I bought my condo. It once had a glass top to protect the wood, but that broke a long time ago. The surface has seen better days, but I love the scalloped edges and the bird and flower inlay.

2. Curtains. I bought them at a store that was going out of business - I no longer remember what store - but they were something like 80% off.

3. Statue. He's about seven inches tall, and stands in the alcove above the fireplace. When I was in Senegal last year, our hostess was packing up to move at the same time our trip was drawing to a close. She could only pack as much as could ride with her in a crowded sept-place, so she asked if I'd like the statue. An local friend had given it to her as a token of friendship, and she wanted to pass that on.

4. Record cabinet. In a rare burst of productive creativity a few years ago, I fashioned this myself out of an old crate down my parents' basement. I pried off a bottom cross-board so records would fit, removed old wheels, painted it black, and included a little 45-adapter detail. The picture was taken soon after I brought it home. Now there are more records inside, and - more importantly - an actual turntable on top!

5. Clock. When I went to Russia in 2001, my companions and I stopped at the home of a wood carver in a tiny village called Zarechye near Lake Baikal. He proudly brought out many items for our perusal, and I fell in love with this clock. I found a place for it in someone else's huge suitcase on the way home, and it's been keeping time for me ever since.

The lovely way the sunshine bends

2011-08-13T18:28:00.002-05:00

I could live on a tropical island. No problem. During a visit to Hawaii last week - my second time in Oahu - I came to that realization. Maybe not in Honolulu, and maybe not full-time, but if anybody on a beautiful island needs a house sitter? Go ahead and enlist my services.

After craving the ocean this year, I got my fill in Hawaii - including a dream view from the 36th floor of the Hilton Waikiki courtesy of a complimentary upgrade:

Ahhhh. Our time was filled with beaches, sunshine, shave ice, shrimp trucks, delicious seven-course meals (well, only one, which is probably a good thing), shopping, and oh yes, music. Last time work brought me to Honolulu; this time the impetus was a concert. Jeff Tweedy and Pat Sansone played at the Hawaii Theatre on our second night in town. My favorite part of the show was seeing the two of them together on a handful of songs during the encore. It's not a configuration I'm likely to see again (though not too far off from the Wilco 3 who performed in Madison a couple of weeks before I went to Hawaii in 2008.) Hearing new songs like "Open Mind" and "Born Alone" in this configuration was exciting, and fueled my anticipation for the new album. It was fun to see all the leis brought up on stage to welcome Jeff to Hawaii at the beginning of the show. If Wisconsin had a tradition like that, I wonder what we'd bring up? Cheese curds or custard, probably. Maybe snow balls.

It was a blast traveling with some of my favorite people, as always. There was an impromptu ramen dinner on our first night in town. U and I made an afternoon escape to the movies. Mike and I had tropical drinks with a view of Diamond Head. I enjoyed a slightly sketchy late-night meal at Zippy's with Paul. We ran away from North Shore waves. I wish I'd had time to stay longer, but there's always next time.

Ocean update

2011-07-31T11:40:00.003-05:00

A few months ago, I wrote about how much I missed the ocean. This week, I do something about it.

You're in Milwaukee, off your feet

2011-07-24T18:34:00.001-05:00

But before I was in Milwaukee, I was home for Gillian Welch's Thursday night visit to the Capitol Theatre. As always, Gillian was joined by partner Dave Rawlings, for what turned out to be a memorable night of music in Madison. Gill and Dave are an interesting case for me: I've seen and thoroughly enjoyed them twice headlining (and seen Dave more than that, with other musicians), but somehow haven't gotten into their recorded output yet. No matter. Their voices intertwined beautifully on the Capitol stage, and I needn't have known even the handful of songs I recognized to be enthralled. From the boisterous "Six White Horses" to the haunting "Long Black Veil" (performed at the front of the stage without amplification), the crowd hung on every word. The audience was both respectful and enthusiastic, a fact that wasn't lost on the musicians. "We should play Madison more often," Gillian said toward the end of the night. I know Madison agrees.

Up next were Bon Iver and the Rosebuds at the Riverside in Milwaukee, Friday and Saturday nights. These were the first shows of the supporting tour for Bon Iver, Bon Iver, and the first concerts Bon Iver had played at all since October 2009 in the very same theater. My, how they've grown. They're bigger in media stature: since Bon Iver last toured, Justin Vernon has worked on various side projects including a high-profile collaboration with Kanye West. And they're bigger in sheer numbers: the band that took the stage in Milwaukee was a nine-piece. These musicians brought the instrumentally complex songs of Bon Iver, Bon Iver to life in a most powerful way, and gave a shot of adrenaline to older numbers. I was blown away by "Blood Bank," but only after listening to the EP version this morning did I realize how much the new arrangement added to an already great song. Not every old song was embellished, though. An emotional high point of each night was Justin Vernon on stage alone with his guitar, singing "Re: Stacks."

Friday and Saturday's shows were both wonderful, but in a flip of the usual "second night is always better" concert rule, I have to give the edge to Friday. Nothing to do with the performances, but the first-show electricity and revelation of each new song would be hard to top. Wisconsin pride over the home-state heroes was palpable in Milwaukee, made concrete with Mayor Tom Barrett's declaration of Friday July 22nd as Bon Iver Day. Before the band came out that night, Assistant City Attorney Tom Gartner (who happens to be Justin Vernon's godfather) came onstage to read the official proclamation. On Saturday night Justin seemed relaxed, goofing around with the crowd, but on Friday night he had a hard time finding the words to say anything but a version of "thank you" between songs. The feeling was mutual.

Trees held us in on all four sides

2011-07-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

Being a lifelong resident of Wisconsin, it's hard to believe I hadn't made it to Door County before last weekend. As is so often the case, what finally spurred me to make my way into the thumb of the mitten was a concert. Combined, that is, with good friends and the prospects of tasty regional treats and pretty scenery. I wasn't disappointed on any count.

Fish boil:

It's a Door County tradition: fun to watch and fun to eat! The picture shows the "boil over" conflagration, but cannot capture how brow-singeingly hot it was right there for ten or fifteen seconds. Yow.

Outdoors:

Door County - Fish Creek in particular - is lovely country. We hiked in the woods, traversed the downtown area, climbed a rickety 75-foot tower in Peninsula State Park, visited a lighthouse, and enjoyed various views of a calm, blue Lake Michigan.

Concert:

Jeff Tweedy in Fish Creek wasn't something I was likely to miss. In keeping with the casual weekend getaway atmosphere, the whole show felt laid-back and relaxed. Banter flowed more freely than usual, and we got to hear a total of four new songs in solo form. Between the Vic shows earlier this year and our basement show, I'd heard two of them before, but "Dawned On Me" and "Open Mind" were both first-timers. (I picked up shades of Madonna in the rhythm of the former's solo verses, but nobody else seemed to share that particular association.) The showpiece of the night was an eerie, intense version of "Bull Black Nova." Sometimes the unlikeliest acoustic songs are revelations.

All that, plus more cherries than you can shake a stick at. Door County, I'll be back!

I'll see you again

2011-07-10T18:23:00.000-05:00

Tuesday night's show at Soldier Field in Chicago marked the longest elapsed time between my purchase and use of a concert ticket: because of the 2010 show's rescheduling, I bought this ticket in November of 2009. At the time, I managed to pull up a GA ticket after 20 minutes of fruitless refreshing on Ticketmaster. I was thrilled, envisioning one last major line wait for my U2 concert-going resume. I wanted to do the crazy line thing one more time.

A year and a half later, the day finally came around. July 5th, 2011 instead of July 6th, 2010. And as it turned out, with the show coming on the heels of a major weekend of shows and a holiday, I just didn't have it in me to show up the night before and wait in line. So came a major first for me and U2: I had a general admission ticket, and I showed up after gates had opened. I know! It's like I hardly know me!

As it turned out, I didn't wind up in a bad spot. I was about ten rows back from the outside ramp, on the Edge side. Really, not too different from a seat on the side of the stadium, except closer. (Though without the option to sit down, which admittedly would have been nice after about five hours in the heat and humidity.)

U2 took the stage around 8:50. They started off with four songs from Achtung Baby and a snippet of "Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World." Those were joined later by "One," prompting Bono to claim they'd played a whole side of Achtung. "Well, almost a whole side." In addition the usual suspects, the band also dusted off nuggets like "Out of Control" and "Zooropa." This was my first time seeing "Zooropa" live. That, plus an acoustic Bono and Edge version of "Stay," comprised a welcome duo of Zooropa songs. In my opinion, one of the best U2 albums.

As the concert drew to a close I'd had a very good time, but decided that there hadn't been any huge surprises in the setlist. Not having looked at any setlists prior to the show, I wasn't even sure what I'd consider a huge surprise. That is, I wasn't sure until Bono started saying his thank you's at the end of the night. He mentioned that the twenty-fifth anniversary of band friend Greg Carroll's death had been a few days before, and that they'd written a song for him. My brain at that point: "OH MY GOD."

One disadvantage of not standing up front among the crazy fans was that I was the only person in my immediate vicinity who understood what might be coming: "One Tree Hill." A song I never dreamed I'd hear live. I knew only that the band had played it in New Zealand (and Chile) a few years ago. Of course, Bono dashed my hopes right away as he sensed what at least some of the crowd as thinking. He smiled and added, "We're not going to play it tonight." A few moments' pause. "Well, maybe we are going to play it." He turned to the band. "Are we going to play it?" Back to the crowd. "Let me check with the professor." Bono conferred with The Edge for a minute, and came back to the microphone. "Well, we'll play 'Moment of Surrender' and let them figure it out down below."

The band launched into their usual closing number, which was very pretty, but I was utterly distracted. They couldn't tease us with the possibility of "One Tree Hill" and then not play it, could they? At least try to play it? After "Moment of Surrender," there was more onstage conferring. Finally Bono came back to the microphone. "Here's the deal," he said. "If we screw up really badly, you can't put it on the internet." OH MY GOD. After a couple of false beginnings (Bono: "How does it start?"), Edge got the chiming guitar riff going. Holy shit. "One Tree Hill." I visited One Tree Hill in 2008. I wrote a report about "One Tree Hill" in the eleventh grade. And now I've heard "One Tree Hill" in concert. The U2 setlist websites were happy to provide the statistics: first time the whole song has been played in North America since 1987. For me, it made the night.

Next time U2 comes around, I'm hoping it will be to somewhere a little smaller than a stadium. And I think I'd still be up for one more crazy GA line wait, since I took a pass on this one. I can't wait to see what the band comes up with next ... but I'm there.

The rain applauds

2011-07-01T21:11:00.001-05:00

Last weekend, my friends and I (and more than 6,000 others) swarmed the Berkshires for the second annual Wilco-curated Solid Sound Festival. Despite some rain, we had a blast. Here are some of my favorite memories of Solid Sound 2011:

Wandering over to MASS MoCA on Thursday, hearing a bit of soundcheck, and climbing up into the "All Utopias Fell" exhibit overlooking the grounds. Being able to explore the deserted Airstream trailer in the company of friends, lounging around and spinning tunes, was the best (pre)fest kickoff I could have hoped for.
Playing giant instruments in the Wunderments gallery
After a power surge briefly knocked out the stage lights and sound on Friday night, the swell of the audience filling in the missing lines of "Radio Cure": "Oh, distance has no way of making love understandable."
Neil Finn joining Wilco for a cover of Split Enz's "I Got You" on the heels of Wilco's own "I Got You." This is something my friends and I have long dreamed of, and when it happened we were beside ourselves. I hope at least some of the performers on stage heard the frenzy of shrieking excitement coming from our corner, as well as the raucous singalong. Well, maybe I don't hope for that last part.
Late-night samosas from Samosaman!
The Handsome Family performing "So Much Wine," in Courtyard C
Jeff Tweedy dunking both of his sons in the dunk tank ... numerous times
The artisanal pencil sharpening of David Rees
Free bags of chips and Garrett's popcorn
Taking part in Rob's poncho rainbow photo shoot in between showers on Saturday
Holding up a $3.50 tarp from the Family Dollar during a torrential downpour on Saturday evening, snug and dry and belting out song hooks and choruses for forty minutes.
Picture with John Hodgman (proving that Evonne is a master of predictions)

Seeing a Glenn Kotche solo performance for the first time in years, with the added bonus of complementary background videos. I've missed "Monkey Chant"!
Liam Finn's sans-microphone pop-up performance in the Nari Ward gallery, among giant orange foam snowmen
Pronto synththily covering the wonderful "Paris 1919" by John Cale
Watching Thurston Moore and Nels Cline play with such intensity as Pillow Wand. (Which, incidentally, some of us think would make a good name for a vibrator.)
Relaxing in the sun for Levon Helm's festival-closing set, singing along as the huge ensemble performed "I Shall Be Released" and "The Weight"
Escaping to Williamstown for a wonderful Sunday night dinner at a new restaurant that hasn't had its official opening yet
Witnessing body shots at the Artery
The leisurely time eating and drinking and talking in the Albany Airport wine bar on Monday evening as friends drifted away one by one (or two by two) for their flights

Solid Sound 2012, you're on.

Outdoor music

2011-06-14T17:50:00.000-05:00

Despite Wisconsin's mostly miserable intro to spring this year, outdoor music season is upon us again! To celebrate, last weekend I took in two al fresco performances.

On Friday evening, The Baseball Project played at a Madison Mallards game. A small but enthusiastic crowd turned up for the pre-game concert in the stands behind home plate, and more folks arrived as game time drew closer. Seeing the band at the Duck Pond was a treat in itself, given their oh-so-appropriate subject matter. The ubiquity of parents with children inspired a family-friendly version of the song "Ted 'Freaking' Williams," among other baseball-related favorites. Each frontman also took the lead on one of his own songs: Steve Wynn's "Amphetamine," Scott McCaughey's "Lies of the Living Dead," and an excellent version of R.E.M.'s "(Don't Go Back To) Rockville" with Mike Mills on lead vocals. The Baseball Project looked as comfortable as one would expect at a baseball game, clad in sport-appropriate attire. (Steve Wynn joked that he wore a pinstriped jacket and slacks in honor of the Yankees.) There was also a classic Wisconsin ballpark touch: a fresh basket of deep fried cheese curds was brought to the stage midset. "This is the best day of your life!" drummer Linda Pitmon joked after Steve called attention to the cheesy treats. All this plus a free Maynard bobblehead and a Mallards win: a good night at the ballpark.

Sunday afternoon found me at the Yahara Waterfront Festival, enjoying music and empanadas (and "Recall Scott Walker" sign-sporting sailboats) on the shore of Lake Monona. I caught some of the Campbell Brothers' set, as well as Sleeping in the Aviary, but it was Robbie Fulks I came to see. Robbie's performance at the Second City 24-hour marathon every December is one of my favorite parts of the event, so I was happy for a chance to catch him in Madison with a full band. As it turned out, he even brought a bonus singer along: Nora O'Connor. Nora sang with Robbie for most of the set, including a couple of excellent duets. Nora also took lead on a verse of "The Girl is Mine," one of two Michael Jackson covers Robbie played. "The Way You Make Me Feel" and a rousing version of "Let's Kill Saturday Night" were my other highlights ... that and watching toddlers dance madly in the grass. Summer music season, can you stay forever?

The ocean

2011-05-30T00:36:00.000-05:00

For the past week or two, I've been craving the ocean.

I don't know how to explain it any better. You know that feeling you get when you really want to be somewhere? Not somewhere you've never been; that desire is different. I'm talking about a place you've been before. This deep feeling that you ought to be there again. That by not being there, you're denying yourself something you actually need. You might be okay without it for awhile yet, but sooner or later it's going to catch up with you.

In my case, it's not one particular place. Any ocean would do. Specifically, a warm beach at night. In Waikiki, walking down the sand from bar to restaurant, no need to put my shoes back on. Or in San Sebastián, watching the sun set an hour later than it would here. Maybe even Panama City Beach, where late at night it does get quiet (in some places, anyway) and from my bedroom I can hear the waves breaking through the open patio doors.

I visited a couple of local lakes this weekend, hoping one might be a good substitute. No dice. The lakes were nice, and I enjoyed walking around shores and piers. I'm fond of pretty much any body of water, to be honest. But this ocean craving, it apparently can't be fooled.

You'll come back again

2011-05-15T18:06:00.000-05:00

Other entertainment options in Denton

Eight months! Nearly eight months passed between the last time I saw a Wilco show, in Scotland last September, and the end of the drought last weekend. For me, that's a mighty long time between shows. Not that I had much a choice, of course. Still, it felt awfully good to be on my way to see the band again - this time, down south.

Saturday night's show in Denton was an interesting one to start out with. It was held in a building at the University of North Texas: a lecture hall that had been converted into a concert venue for the evening. The seats were reserved, but it was apparent before the show began that it wasn't going to stay that way. There was far too much empty space between the stage and the seats for the crowd to remain docile. Sending more mixed signals was a barrier that had been erected about three feet from the stage. Barricades suggest that people are allowed to stand on one side of them, but security was enforcing a no-fan zone all the way back to the seats; a good ten feet or so more in some places. Thus, for the first half of the show, a complicated dance was performed. Fans would creep up, and then creep up a little more, then be shooed back by security, then creep up a little more, and so on. Eventually, there was only a foot or so between the intrepid front-line fans and the barrier. When Jeff made an exasperated comment and asked if everyone could just stand at the barricade itself, there was no more pretending. The reserved show officially turned into a GA show.

The crowd trended young, at least up front, and was very enthusiastic. I was, too. The shows on this short spring tour didn't remotely approach the length we saw last spring on the Evening With tour - in fact, they were a few songs shorter than typical setlists of the past. No matter: I was glad enough to see Wilco, period. We won't be hearing any new songs until Solid Sound next month, but the band played a nice mix that was - fine by me - heavy on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. In fact, the written setlist had even more YHF intended for the encore, but it was not to be. The rowdy crowd discouraged choices like "Poor Places" and "Reservations," in favor of faster numbers like "Hoodoo Voodoo" and "I Got You."

For me, Denton was a warm-up for the main event: Sunday night's show at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa. I adore Cain's, and this was my third trip. If I can help it, I'll never miss a Wilco show there - in fact, I'd love to expand my Cain's resume. As expected, the wait in line was a hot one. The temperature was in the 80's, and felt much warmer in the sun. After the spring we've had so far in Wisconsin, it seemed like more than a fair trade. When we were finally let inside, the air conditioning felt delicious.

Tulsa's crowd was great. Everyone roared approval after each song, often stretching from the end of one to the first chords of the next. It was also great to be standing with so many friends. God bless weekend concerts! The band seemed to enjoy themselves too. Jeff called Cain's their home away from home, asking the owner of Cain's - sitting in front of the barrier for a few songs - if that was okay. It was. Wilco delivered a mostly upbeat set, as befitted the mood of the night. There were a couple of Mother's Day shout-outs (including a heartfelt bellow from Glenn as he stood on his drum stool before "I'm the Man Who Loves You,") and a couple of Woody Guthrie songs were played in honor of his home state. Well, they were tour standards, but the home state was acknowledged. The last Woody song was also the last song of the night; another "Hoodoo Voodoo" closer. Only, this time, crew member Josh busted out the cowbell and went to town. Dear lord. Typically he stays toward the back near the drums when he joins in, but on Sunday he went all out: getting down with Pat, dancing up to Jeff. It was funny, entertaining, and disturbingly erotic. I now know more than one lady who's interested in finding out if Josh is available for parties. Kudos to him, and the band, for ending the night - and the short tour - on a high note.

Tired and wired

2011-05-03T18:34:00.001-05:00

Last Tuesday, just two days after the big basement show weekend of 2011, I saw the National in Milwaukee. When the band announced a headlining gig at the Riverside in the midst of their tour supporting the Arcade Fire, I couldn't have been more pleased. Ever since their show last year at the Orpheum, after the Obama rally, I've wanted to see another National performance ... preferably one without a 7-foot tall stage, or a crowd that filled all of Library Mall. The Riverside was the opportunity I'd been awaiting.

Right from the start, everything seemed to fall into place. I had the day off, so I was able to get to town, walk around, have lunch, and get in line at my leisure. I met some friends, and we got excellent spots right up front. Both opening bands (The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and Twin Shadow) were good. They'd originally been scheduled for their own double bill at Turner Hall, before signing on as openers for this gig.

The National put on an excellent performance, full of intense songs and amusing banter in between. They won over most of the audience even before the show started, when drummer Bryan Devendorf came out during the set change to artfully arrange seven John Axford bobbleheads amongst the gear. When half the band took the stage in Brewers hats (someone was even swinging a bat), the crowd was theirs. I'm a complete sucker for bands with Brewers swag. Successful pandering! Wisconsin pride!

As Matt Berninger commented during the show, they did put together a pretty bleak setlist for Milwaukee. "We do have some happy songs. Honest." I enjoyed everything, though, and the upbeat songs were even more welcome in contrast. Unlike the Orpheum, where he may have been daunted by the tall stage, Matt had no qualms about entering the crowd at the Riverside. He left the stage during no fewer than three different songs - though he joked that he'd used the first as an opportunity to remove the bunchy boxers that were a present from his mother-in-law. Matt was roaming the theater for the entirety of "Terrible Love," and during "Mr. November," he draped himself off the front of the stage, absorbing the frenzied pats and grabs of the audience. Nothing electrifies a crowd like being joined by members of the band.

In a set full of highlights, two songs in particular stood out as highlights of the night for me. The first was the the live debut of "Think You Can Wait," from the soundtrack of the film Win Win. It's a lovely song, and being part of the first crowd to see it played was a treat. The second was the final song of the night, "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks," which the entire band played without the PA system from the front of the stage. The audience sang along, and it was the perfect ending for a great night of music.

This ain't no Lounge Ax, people

2011-04-25T23:22:00.002-05:00

When the sixth Hotel S'n'S show happened at the end of last summer, we thought it could be the final one. The Tweedys had indicated that they might be taking a break from the private shows, at least for a year or two. But as it turned out, that didn't happen ... or it hasn't happened yet. In fact, we didn't even have to wait a whole year! Last Saturday found us back in Chicago, back in the basement for at least one encore performance.

What can I say about the S'n'S show? You can probably fill in for me at this point. The preshow potluck was in full effect, with my baklava making a return appearance after the 2010 break for pie pops. Dick didn't bring his meat this year, but he did provide some tasty wings. Cathy's Japanese curry was back, there was delicious crostini, dip, Alison's mac and cheese (the most anticipated part of every potluck), stuffed bread, brownies, ginger cupcakes, pizza, a fennel salad, gourmet cheeses, candied bacon, apple crisp ... and so much more. Oh, and beer. Pleeeenty of beer.

The atmosphere downstairs was cozy and relaxed. One of the advantages of an April show is that the basement doesn't turn into a sweat lodge in the absence of air conditioning. (August 28th, I'm looking at you.) We were just a bit toasty this time. During the show there were hilarious moments and poignant moments ... sometimes both at once. ("Wish You Were Here," I'm looking at you.) Jeff has been busy in the studio lately - in fact, he brought a couple of friends from the studio along to the show - which meant that he hadn't had a lot of free time to study up on songs. From the setlist, though, you'd never guess.

This year Jeff began the show himself, picking a song from the submitted list of requests. It was the old written-in-the-dressing-room-before-a-show classic, "This Ain't No Lounge Ax." To our vast entertainment, Jeff changed up the lyrics to fit our venue. From "people sitting on the stairs" to "this is Hotel S'n'S," it was a great nod to the nights we've spent at Sooz and Sam's place over the years. It was also a bittersweet, because I think everyone wishes Lounge Ax were still open.

The round robin requests began after the opening song, with a few tangents here and there, and the highlights came fast and furious. Here's an annotated setlist:

-This Ain't No Lounge Ax
-Theologians
-Corduroy Cutoff Girl ("I could only find hope in heists" - I never knew that line for sure before Saturday)
-At My Window Sad and Lonely (resonator guitar!)
-Casino Queen (I persist in thinking of it as the "ragtime version" which is probably horribly inaccurate, but oh well)
-Passenger Side
-Please Tell My Brother (silent audience during this song, even Zelda the pug)
-Summer Teeth (Zelda chimed in with barks at the end)
-new song - I Might (upbeat tune, contains the line "get well soon, everybody")
-Henry and the H-Bombs [Mott the Hoople]
-Cruel To Be Kind [Nick Lowe]
-More Like the Moon (I love those Spanish guitar parts)
------intermission 1-------
-Happy Birthday to roommate Paul and Pam (crowd singalong)
-When You Wake Up Feeling Old (good timing after "Happy Birthday")
-Nothing'severgonnastandinmyway(again)
-You Are Not Alone
-Sixteen Blue (partial) [The Replacements]
-Please Be Patient With Me
-Jesus, Etc.
-Either Way
-Gun
-I'm a Wheel
-Wish You Were Here [Pink Floyd] (Kris owned those lead vocals)
-Ripple [The Grateful Dead] (everyone on lead vocals, iPhones out in force)
-A Magazine Called Sunset
-If That's Alright
-Pecan Pie
------intermission 2-------
-new song - Capital City (on the folkier side of things, may or may not make the new album)
-California Stars
-One By One
-Airline to Heaven (nearly Easter!)
-Blasting Fonda
-"Jeff Tweedy" is Playing at my House [LCD Soundsystem] (this was actually a jumble of "Losing My Edge," "The Message," and other rapping)
-Dreamer in My Dreams
-Candyfloss

The last two songs were group dance numbers. And group singing - do I even have to specify that part? After the traditional group photo, goodbyes, and donning of the silver-wrapped BK crown (not yet traditional, but it could be!), Jeff and Susan headed home. Plenty of us remained, singing and dancing and eating and laughing and playing guitar and banjo as the hours flew by. The sun was rising by the time I went to bed. (I resisted a "Shot in the Arm" quote there, guys.)

There were a few more members of our usual crew missing this year than there typically are - a combination of scheduling and financial crunches, and at least one future baby. It was a wonderful weekend, encompassing many more activities than I've mentioned here, but I won't pretend I didn't miss absent friends. My fondest wish, if there were to be another basement show in 2012, is that we'll all be together again.

The raincoat that you wore when it rained today

2011-04-22T00:09:00.001-05:00

In case you hadn't noticed, I like to select my concert recap titles from the lyrics of songs played at the show in question. Typically, I don't think about what line I might use until afterward. I'll admit, though, that as soon as the Decemberists announced their April 19th show in Madison, just days after I saw them in Milwaukee on February 5th, it occurred to me that I'd have plenty of fitting lyrics to choose from. "Raise your glass to turnings of the season." "To cold climes comes springtime." "Summer swells anon."

Well, the weather on Tuesday certainly put the kibosh on that. Rainy, sleety, sometimes snowy, it was not a pleasant spring day by any stretch of the imagination. Judging from the pockets of empty seats at the Overture Center (and the number of cars I saw off the road on my way downtown), the kibosh was put on the plans of more than a few people. However, those of us who attended saw a very good show - and likely the last one Wisconsin will see from the Decemberists for awhile.

Justin Townes Earle opened the show, accompanied for most songs by a violin player/second vocalist. I'd never seen Justin before, but I'd heard tales. Some were about his offstage antics, but more were about his skill as a performer. At the Overture, the only allusion to non-musical activities came when Justin mentioned he'd been kicked out of thirteen schools ... before leaving in the ninth grade. Impressive? His performance skills, however, were readily apparent. Justin has a great voice, and seems to go off into his own world during songs. My favorite tune of his set was a blues number whose name I can't recall, but it nearly got a standing ovation from the crowd.

When the Decemberists took the stage, there were actually only two of them to begin with: Colin and John. Together they performed a lovely, fitting rendition of "The Raincoat Song." The rest of the band joined in for "Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect," a song I hadn't seen live in a long time. It reminded me of the Intonation Festival in Chicago, and summer in general.

The Overture sounds terrific, but it can be a somewhat sterile place for a rock show. Last time I saw the Decemberists there, in 2009, it was a general admission show that had been moved from the Orpheum. The crowd behaved accordingly, jumping over seats in some cases after the show began to get closer to the front. On Tuesday, by contrast, the vibe during the first few songs was very polite. That is, until someone from the balcony called out between songs for Colin to "tell everybody to stand up and dance!" Colin noted that there did seem to be some open seats on the floor, if anyone wanted to come down from the various balcony levels to fill them in.

Of course, that was all it took for fans - mostly young fans - to scurry down and stand directly in front of the stage. This lasted for a song or two, until security cleared them out because of fire regulations. Colin tried to coax them into letting the kids back up, but to no avail. By that time, however, the empty seats had been filled and much of the crowd was standing. It felt more like a "real show," as Colin put it, for the rest of the night. Colin and Chris Funk had some fun with the security guards later on, with Colin playing his guitar directly at one of them and trading low fives, and Chris Funk attempting to seduce another during "The Mariner's Revenge Song." I couldn't see exactly what was going on, but he returned to the main stage with his shirt completely unbuttoned.

Madison's set wasn't too different from the one the band played in Milwaukee in February, but there was plenty to keep things interesting for folks who had seen both shows. "Rise to Me" was gorgeous once again, and even more poignant now that I know the story behind it. Seeing Sara Watkins take lead vocals on "The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid" was excellent, and so was the "Crane Wife" trio played in order. And when Colin came out with a Wisconsin solidarity sticker on his guitar and said a few words before playing "This is Why We Fight," the band got the loudest and longest cheer of the night.

"June Hymn" was the closing number, and it left me satisfied but longing for true spring and early summer. It also left me a bit sad, wondering if this was the last I'd see of the Decemberists for a long time. In a recent interview, Colin said after this tour the band will take an extended break; maybe three or four years. I've been lucky to see the Decemberists and Colin about fourteen times over the past nine years, and I'm happy that I took advantage of their appearances in Wisconsin (and sometimes Illinois) whenever I could. I enjoyed every minute of it. Whether I see them again sometime this summer on an unexpected trip, or I see them again in five years, I'm confident I'll feel the same.

The good part

2011-04-18T23:44:00.001-05:00

It's benefit season again! 2011 was the fifth year in a row that Jeff Tweedy played concerts at the Vic Theatre to benefit youth scholarships. This year, there was a also a table in the lobby on both Friday and Saturday night, manned by the Chicago Lighthouse. The charities that the Tweedys publicly support keep adding up, and the quality of the benefit shows is always top-notch. I've come to look forward to these late winter/early spring weekends as one of my favorite show weekends of the year. Friday and Saturday kept up the tradition.

As in years past, the setlists for both shows were requests from the first thirty people in line outside. As much as Jeff likes to joke that this leads to bad shows with songs nobody else will enjoy, it's really one of the things that make the concerts special. (Obviously, given the five-year tradition, this is not lost on the decision makers.) There were no repeat songs over the two evenings, which was impressive. My picks this year were "Shake it Off" and "Monday," two songs that are unlikely to be heard at your typical solo show. Both sounded great, and I was particularly delighted with the resonator guitar version of "Shake it Off." My favorite part was Jeff playing the syncopated chorus beats Glenn usually handles by strumming below the ... bridge? Pickup? My guitar terminology may be rusty, but it really worked.

Other standout songs included one more great version of "So Much Wine" (preceded by the tale of the "mayor's daughter" from Iowa), "Sonny Feeling" solo for the first time, "Dear Employer," and "Screen Door." Banter highlights were plentiful, and included an impromptu tribute to a certain friend of mine, a digression about banter grammar police (ahem), and a shout-out to teachers. There was fun before and after the shows, too: late dinners, bars, Record Store Day errands, studying Bruce Lee's fighting methods, the electric slide, and a Kuma's meal for Sunday lunch. I'll be in Chicago again next weekend among more visiting friends, and it feels a bit like this week is just a placeholder. Not entirely, though ... Decemberists tomorrow!

Every night is Friday night

2011-04-03T21:29:00.001-05:00

Last time I saw the Old 97's was in Grand Rapids in 2009. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the show, but it didn't quite click with me the way 97's shows used to. There was a weird vibe in the crowd, and a fight broke out, which didn't help. I described the show afterward as "good, solid fun," and that was the truth. But dependable, "solid" fun wasn't enough to lure me to an out-of-town show Old 97's over the next year and a half. A Friday night show at the Barrymore, however, I couldn't turn down - even at the end of a busy, tiring week. Nothing wrong with a dependable good time, right? Well, as it turned out, I wouldn't describe the April 1st show as "good, solid fun." I'd lean more towards "really awesome."

Teddy Thompson opened the concert. Everything I knew about Teddy, I learned from people standing near me before the show. There were a couple of very excited college girls there, one of whom had seen Teddy in Madison before and fallen in love with him. She was open to hearing the Old 97's, but knew little about them - Teddy was her reason for attending. (She said she assumed most of the other girls were there to see "Bret Michaels." Ha!) An older gentleman mentioned that Teddy had famous parents, though he couldn't think of their names offhand. This tipped me off that Teddy must be Richard and Linda Thompson's son, but at first I thought I was mistaken - the pleasant country drawl of his songs made it sound like he'd come straight up from Texas. However, his stage banter - very dry and amusing - left no doubt as to his Britishness. Most of his songs were pretty straightforward country, but not hackneyed or "Nashville." The most pleasant surprise for me was his eerily spot-on cover of Del Shannon's "Runaway." Be it covers or originals, I'd be interested in hearing more from Mr. Thompson in the future.

Soon enough the lights dimmed again, and out came the Old 97's. They began with the title track of their latest record, "The Grand Theatre." Maybe I was just in the mood for some small-venue rock and roll - it's been awhile. Everyone near me up front was dancing and singing, fueled by alcohol but not completely wasted. The band followed "Grand Theatre" with "The Fool," and then Rhett got up on Philip's drum riser, leapt off, and launched into ... "Timebomb." Which was odd, because I seemed to recall that being a traditional closer. No matter; people were pogoing and shouting as if they'd been working up to it all night. When the song was over, the band said good night and left the stage. The house music came on.

April Fool! I don't think anyone was actually fooled, but it was pretty funny nonetheless. The band returned after a minute or two, Murry commented on the fact that only a single cup had been thrown onto the stage, and they resumed the show. And it was a hell of a show. The energy level had definitely gone up after the "closer," and for the most part stayed there for the rest of the night. The 97's played a long first set, including a bonus internet request: one of my favorites, "Wish the Worst." They also played a song I'm pretty sure I've never heard live before, certainly not from the full band: "Cryin' Drunk." I couldn't help thinking of a certain hateful governor when Rhett sang lyrics like, "Walker says you're a cancer." Speaking of Walker, Rhett affixed a pro-union button to one of his guitar straps early in the night, and later said that he's a union member and stands with the people of Wisconsin. It was nice to hear.

The first set ended on a hardcore rock 'n' roll high note, after Rhett gave himself a fat lip with the microphone and spit blood all over the stage during "Four Leaf Clover." He also bloodied his setlist, which was promptly stolen by a crazy male fan during the break. When Rhett came back out, he asked who had the setlist. As the crowd pointed to the busted fan, Rhett quipped, "You might want to get that tested."

Standing near me during the show was an 11-year-old girl, attending her first concert. She seemed to have an excellent time. Rhett made sure to say hello to her, and later asked her name when he stooped for a drink. When he came out to play a couple of acoustic songs at the start of the encore, he asked if there were any tracks from his solo records she'd like to hear. When she shook her head no, he joked, "Oh, you don't like those." Her mother explained that she was a new fan, but she's learning. (The girl did thank him for asking, which was very polite.) Rhett ended up playing "Come Around" and "Need to Know Where I Stand." He explained that he'd begun the latter in California many years ago, but it never quite went anywhere ... until one night, when he was sitting backstage right here at the Barrymore Theater, and he suddenly realized how to make it into a song. A rendition of the always-lovely "Valentine" by Murry, with Rhett on backing vocals, rounded out the acoustic portion of the night, and the band came back on for four more songs - making it a total of twenty-nine on the evening.

I'd been wondering how they were going to close the show, since they'd already played "Timebomb" and "Four Leaf Clover." The answer was ... "Timebomb!" Again! The second round was even better. By the time the band left the stage, they'd given me a much more exhilarating Friday night than I'd bargained for. It turns out that I don't always know what I'll get from an Old 97's show after all, and I couldn't be happier about it.

Setlist:
The Grand Theatre
The Fool
Timebomb
-----------
Champaign, Illinois
W. TX Teardrops
Let the Whiskey Take the Reins
The New Kid
Buick City Complex
Mama Tried
Please Hold on While the Train is Moving
Doreen
Wish the Worst
Question
Designs on You
You Were Born to Be in Battle
Here's to the Halcyon
Cryin' Drunk
A State of Texas
Smokers
Every Night is Friday Night (Without You)
Won't Be Home
Four Leaf Clover
-----------
Come Around (Rhett solo)
I Need to Know Where I Stand (Rhett solo)
Valentine (Murry and Rhett)
Dance With Me
Big Brown Eyes
Murder (or a Heart Attack)
Timebomb

So flattered by fate

2011-03-31T20:34:00.001-05:00

It's the end of the first quarter of 2011, and I finally got to see some Jeff Tweedy shows! On a short tour that hit just six cities, two of Jeff's stops were Madison and Iowa City. Clearly I was in for the short drive downtown on Monday, and Iowa City fell just within my reasonable weeknight range. Well, "reasonable." You know how I do.

Madison and Iowa City ended up being very different shows. Madison was a little longer, and a little more ... in control. Which is somewhat ironic, because there were probably a few more more disruptive folks, if we're talking sheer numbers, at the Capitol Theater. At one point toward the end of the night in Madison, Jeff started to strum "Be Not So Fearful" in response to a shouted request, but was completely drowned out by other requests and actually gave up. In Iowa City, however, the show was all but taken over for awhile by one particularly loud and insistent disruptive girl (who at one point squawked that she was the daughter of the mayor of Cedar Rapids), in addition to plenty of beer bottle clinking and some random comments and mysterious ripples of laughter. None of this meant that either show was bad, and I think Jeff has been handling the unpredictable nature of audiences better and better. It's just that, like it or not, the audience can shape the show. Mostly-ruly Madison got a few more songs, as well as more singalongs and general crowd participation. Iowa City got some extended exchanges with certain audience members, and a pointed dedication of "So Much Wine" by the Handsome Family.

Not only was "So Much Wine" a fitting dedication for the mayor's daughter, it was also one of many musical highlights of the two shows. A new song, "Born Alone," was played in Madison and in Iowa City and is already stuck in my head. I loved hearing "In a Future Age" and "Airline to Heaven" in Iowa, and "Candyfloss" and "Pieholden Suite" in Madison. "Not for the Season" (or "Laminated Cat," if you prefer) was played both nights as well. Jeff mentioned in Iowa City that Nels gets credit for a lot of the guitar parts Jeff actually performed on albums, much to Nels's discomfort. "Loved your work on A Ghost is Born, Nels!" And Jeff's new(?) ivory resonator guitar proved perfectly suited for a duo of off-mic show closers.

These shows plunged me full-tilt into the spring concert season in Madison, Milwaukee, and Chicago. I've got another show tomorrow, then the Wisconsin Film Festival this weekend, another show Tuesday, a show the following Monday, and then Friday and Saturday and maybe Sunday, and then Tuesday, and then the next Saturday and Sunday, and then that Tuesday, then maybe Friday, and then the next week Saturday and Sunday, and then I have a work trip and suddenly it's mid-May. I feel a bit like I'm in a roller coaster car that's just begun its trip down the first big hill, gaining momentum. Too late to get off!

I know a place

2011-03-19T18:14:00.001-05:00

Many months ago, when we first read about Mavis Staples playing at the Oneida Casino in Green Bay, Tamala, Rob and I had the same reaction: really? Given the places she's been appearing lately, plus her recent Grammy and NAACP Image awards, it seemed too good to be true. When we figured out that the show was in the Oneida Lounge and free, well, that seemed way too good to be true. But we were definitely going to Green Bay Sunday night, on the off chance it wasn't.

As you've probably guessed, it was true. The lounge was a small area just off the main casino floor, with tables on platforms behind a semicircular bar. The bar seats offered the best view of the stage, which was directly behind the bar. And at every bar seat? A Keno/video poker screen. The catch, as we learned, was that to keep one's priority seat at the bar, one had to be playing. With $2.50 drinks and 5-cent poker credits, this wasn't exactly a hardship, but it did make for one of the strangest concert experiences I've ever had. I don't think anyone was paying much attention once the music started, but we still found ourselves guiltily dealing or betting during song breaks.

Mavis and her band were fantastic. We had our doubts about the atmosphere, but a crowd gathered behind the bar and at the tables, loudly cheering and applauding for every song. Even though we hadn't expected more than an hour or so of music with two more nights ahead for the band, we got a full concert on Sunday. Mavis was chatty - she even confessed to cheering for the Packers during the Super Bowl (as long as nobody was looking). The songs sounded great, highlights including "You Are Not Alone," "I Belong to the Band," and the classic "I'll Take You There." And after the show, we got a chance to chat with Mavis and many of the band members in the lounge. Rob was able to return for Tuesday night's show, but I'm glad I at least got to see Sunday. Green Bay isn't much farther away than Chicago ... maybe I should keep a closer eye on the Oneida calendar.

March forth

2011-03-04T22:18:00.001-06:00

I hate winter - vastly preferring summer in the battle of Extreme Seasons - but I have a sneaking suspicion that deep down, I actually enjoy winter for the sake of this time of year. It's not spring yet, but I can feel it coming. And when spring comes to Wisconsin, I feel more than relief at the end of winter. It's a sense of triumph, that another winter has been vanquished. We won, damn it! I see winter as a foe, but if it were never below zero and blizzarding outside, I wouldn't be this giddy at the melting of snow and warmer breezes. I've been feeling sluggish lately, and I'm hoping the advent of spring will give me a jolt of energy. So why wait until the end of the month? On March 1st I abandoned my winter coat for a spring jacket, because eff you, winter. There's only a week until Daylight Saving time begins.

Of course, at this time of year I'm also full of spring and summer ambition. I'll go up north! I'll go camping! I'll take walks at Conservation Park every week! I'll swim in Goose Lake! Mini road trips! Brewers games! I tend to forget that summer no longer means I'm on vacation. But hey, might as well start out with the best of intentions.

We all wanna change the world

2011-02-21T18:18:00.000-06:00

Most people are probably aware of the protests that have been going on for a week now in Madison, over Governor Scott Walker's "budget" bill. My mom has worked in Wisconsin public schools for more than twenty-five years, so I don't think I need to explain where my support lies. I've had friends out there daily, marching and holding up signs in support of our state's workers and unions. On Saturday I went downtown to take part myself, thinking it would be interesting to see everything firsthand. Well, it was more than interesting. It was amazing.

It might seem odd considering what's at stake, but the mood around the capitol was overwhelmingly upbeat. I think people understand that no matter what happens, the very act of coming together in support of something they truly believe is vitally important. One sign I saw said it well: "You can take my money, but you can't take my voice!" Everybody was polite. More polite and friendly than your typical Saturday on State Street, for sure. Considerate of people crossing the streets, of everyone in the crowd. There was a union-sponsored van set up on Wisconsin Ave with a grill, handing out free brats to a long line of people. There was free bottled water there. I saw another man set up on a bench on the square, making peanut butter & jelly sandwiches for anybody who wanted one. Ian's Pizza on State Street has set up an online system for people to buy pizza for the protesters on the square, and they've been selling out.

Folks were handing out signs printed up by WEAC, and thousands of people had their own homemade signs. Some mentioned where the protesters came from ... Wauwatosa, Kenosha, Minnesota, even Mississippi. And there were so many families. Speakers were set up along the square, playing a sort of protest mix ... the Beatles' "Revolution," "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley, Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror." Some of the marchers had drums and tambourines. There were lines of Union cabs driving around a block away, honking and waving, to mass cheers from the crowd. Many cars honking on Dayton as they drove past. For a few minutes I stood near firemen who were waving flags. The many police officers around were relaxed and friendly. They seemed more like spectators.

Sixty thousand people congregated downtown on Saturday - from both sides, although anti-Walker protesters far outnumbered supporters - and no arrests were made. Nobody was injured. The Madison Police department actually issued a statement in praise of the crowd. That's incredible to me. Even if I'm ashamed of our governor, I'm so proud of Wisconsin right now.

A panoply of song

2011-02-07T22:44:00.002-06:00

Though I realized it just days ago, I didn't see the Decemberists in 2010. They weren't touring anywhere in my vicinity, but the fact remains that 2010 was the first year post-2003 that I failed to see them at least once. It felt good, then, to be able to open my 2011 concert season with a Decemberists show at the Riverside in Milwaukee. (I don't know if Mamma Mia! last weekend counted as a first concert.)

After a brisk wait in line and a pretty set by Mountain Man (a band that, interestingly, contains no men), we were ready for the main act. The Decemberists opened with "Leslie Anne Levine" from Castaways and Cutouts, and we were off. Nothing like a song narrated by a dead girl to get things started right! There were more trademark vivid narratives to come, but many of my favorite songs of the night were from The King is Dead. The new album came out a few weeks ago, and I like it more with each listen. "Rise to Me" and "June Hymn" were particularly lovely at the Riverside.

Despite the prevalence of newer, more understated material, the show wasn't short on band theatrics. Chris Funk, John Moen, and tour guest Sara Watkins took to the house as the Decemberists Family Players during "A Cautionary Song," acting out three tableaux of Colin's choosing: the signing of the Declaration of Independence, the sinking of the Titanic, and the Roman Polanski scandal. Colin handed Chris Funk's flask to a kid in the front row. The band collectively perished on stage, with much flopping, after everyone got eaten by the whale in "The Mariner's Revenge Song." I'm not the biggest fan of that tune on Picaresque, but I definitely get its appeal in the live setting. We even got a verse and chorus of "In the Air Tonight," by Phil Collins.

All of the above and more made for an excellent show, but the best moment of the night for me came when Colin said the following words: "We're gonna play a song about San Francisco." For years now - six, to be exact - I've hoped to hear "Grace Cathedral Hill" in concert. Not living in the Bay Area, the pickings are slim. They played it the first time I saw the band in 2004, but I longed to hear it again. This was the state of things on Friday evening, when I happened to check Twitter just as Colin solicited requests for that night's Chicago concert. I took a chance on a request for Milwaukee instead, hoping a mention of last hearing the song at Luther's Blues in '04 might help my case. I'll probably never know if my request had anything to do with it ... but I do know that on Saturday night the Decemberists played "Grace Cathedral Hill," with plenty of pedal steel, and it was gorgeous.

I drove back home early Sunday morning with a guitar pick in my pocket and songs swirling around in my head. And the next night, the Packers won the Super Bowl. Banner weekend in Wisconsin! The Decemberists announced today that they'll be back at the Overture Center in April. Me too.

Setlist (as displayed by Matt):

Drug awareness

2011-01-22T19:46:00.002-06:00

One of my sisters is now a PTA member at the elementary school all three of us attended as children. Her sons, my nephews, go to school there. Sometime last year, the association cleaned out a storage cache dating back to the school's days under its original name, Sunnyside. There were photos, letters, programs, and scrapbooks from as early as the 1950's ... and nobody wanted them. Some of the items eventually made their way to the school district's headquarters, but my sister rescued things that otherwise would have been thrown out.

The page above came from a scrapbook from the late 70's or early 80's. Look, pictures from a drug awareness program! I remember attending those at school. See, there are some teachers speaking, probably about the evils of drug abuse. There's a police officer, perhaps explaining the legal ramifications, or what to do if a bad man should ever offer you drugs. And ...

Wait wait wait wait wait.

There's an interactive table of pipes and bongs? And Mrs. Zieth is explaining their uses? I so don't remember this from the drug awareness programs when I was in elementary school. Look at the little kids, eyes alight with interest, exploring the fascinating items on the table. How come we never got a pipe and bong demonstration?

I think my favorite part is that this photo was actually taken, selected for the scrapbook, pasted down, and carefully captioned.

2010 in review: Live Music

2011-01-16T13:57:00.003-06:00

On to the final recap post for 2010 - music. Here are the numbers:

Total shows (counting each day of multi-day events): 40
A couple notes on this - for the first time, there were a handful of big shows I couldn't count because though they were "shows," they weren't music. Comedy, book readings, Anthony Bourdain. Even if I had counted them, though, I'd still be down nearly 20 shows from 2009's total. Damn! I think the crazy Spain run of 2009 accounts for half of that discrepancy, though.

Performers seen for the first time (headlining, in this particular incarnation): 6 (Dawes, Jay Farrar + Ben Gibbard, Jakob Dylan, Xalam, Hunstville, the National)

Performers seen for the first time (support or other variety setting): 19 (including Mike Benign, the Low Anthem, the Dodos, the Duchess and the Duke, the Books, Mavis Staples, Outrageous Cherry, Lawrence Arabia, Philip Selway, Owen Pallett, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, J.C. Brooks, Joan of Arc)

Seen most often: Wilco, Martin Rivas, Philip Selway

Favorite concert moments of 2010, in no order:

My mostly-joking request for "Single Ladies" being granted by Jeff Tweedy, 3/13
Glenn Kotche beheading a woman during On Fillmore's set, 8/14
Women dancing in the aisles during Xalam's show at the French Institute in Dakar, 5/28
Rhett Miller playing "Ray Charles," 3/5
The Low Anthem's cell-phone-cricket-chirp crowd participation number, 3/6
Low stage (!!!) at the Orpheum for the New Pornographers, 8/4
The National performing "Terrible Love" in front of 27,000 people, including President Obama, on Library Mall, 9/28
The entire audience singing along with the preshow music of "Living on a Prayer" at the Ryman before the Avett Brothers came out dressed as mummies, 10/30
Viper and his Famous Orchestra's Miley Cyrus cover, 7/9
The first notes of the acoustic set of my first "evening with" Wilco show, 4/2

Bring it on, 2011.

2010 in review: Books

2011-01-08T11:35:00.001-06:00

For the fifth time, here's a list of the books I read over the past year. Stats follow:

1. Manhood for Amateurs - Michael Chabon

2. Under the Dome - Stephen King

3. Things the Grandchildren Should Know - Mark Oliver Everett

4. Feasting on Asphalt: The River Run - Alton Brown

5. Supersense: Why We Believe in the Unbelievable - Bruce M. Hood

6. Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession - Julie Powell

7. You Better Not Cry: Stories for Christmas - Augusten Burroughs

8. 100 Posters 134 Squirrels - Jay Ryan

9. I Drink For a Reason - David Cross

10. The Crowd Sounds Happy - Nicholas Dawidoff

11. Stealing Buddha's Dinner - Bich Minh Nguyen

12. In Search of Norman Rockwell's America - Kevin Rivoli, Norman Rockwell

13. How We Decide - Jonah Lehrer

14. Somebody Else's Daughter - Elizabeth Brundage

15. Not Becoming My Mother - Ruth Reichl

16. Dead Until Dawn - Charlaine Harris

17. Living Dead in Dallas - Charlaine Harris

18. Senegal in Pictures - Tom Streissguth

19. Club Dead - Charlaine Harris

20. Dead to the World - Charlaine Harris

21. Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy - Gary D. Schmidt

22. Dead as a Doornail - Charlaine Harris

23. Definitely Dead - Charlaine Harris

24. All Together Dead - Charlaine Harris

25. From Dead to Worse - Charlaine Harris

26. Dead and Gone - Charlaine Harris

27. Committed - Elizabeth Gilbert

28. A Touch of Dead - Charlaine Harris

29. SuperFreakonomics - Steven D. Levitt & Stephen J. Dubner

30. Vanity Fair's Proust Questionnaire - Graydon Carter, Ed.

31. Everything is Wrong With Me - Jason Mulgrew

32. The Summer Before - Ann M. Martin
33. A Year in the World - Frances Mayes
34. Children Standing Before a Statue of Hercules - David Sedaris, Ed.
35. Dead in the Family - Charlaine Harris
36. The Poisoner's Handbook - Deborah Blum
37. Born Standing Up - Steve Martin
38. Olive Kitteridge - Elizabeth Strout
39. The Boy Who Couldn't Sleep and Never Had To - DC Pierson
40. Blink - Malcolm Gladwell
41. Every Patient Tells a Story - Lisa Sanders, M.D.
42. The Emperor's Children - Claire Messud
43. Beatrice and Virgil - Yann Martel
44. Zeitoun - Dave Eggers
45. The Senator's Wife - Sue Miller
46. Holy Fools - Joanne Harris
47. Never Let Me Go - Kazuo Ishiguro
48. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson
49. The Girl Who Played With Fire - Stieg Larsson
50. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - Stieg Larsson
51. Timeriders - Alex Scarrow
52. Educating Esme - Esme Raji Codell
53. Both Sides of Time - Caroline B. Cooney
54. Outlander - Diana Gabaldon
55. Dragonfly in Amber - Diana Gabaldon
56. Voyager - Diana Gabaldon
57. The Fiery Cross - Diana Gabaldon
58. A Breath of Snow and Ashes - Diana Gabaldon
59. An Echo in the Bone - Diana Gabaldon
60. The Impostor's Daughter - Laurie Sandell
61. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - J.K. Rowling
62. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - J.K. Rowling
63. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J.K. Rowling
64. Emily of New Moon - L.M. Montgomery
65. Emily Climbs - L.M. Montgomery
66. Emily's Quest - L.M. Montgomery
67. Jane of Lantern Hill - L.M. Montgomery
68. Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned - Wells Tower
69. The Bean Trees - Barbara Kingsolver
70. War Dances - Sherman Alexie
71. Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk - David Sedaris
72. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
73. Black Swan Green - David Mitchell
74. Birds of North America - Lorrie Moore
75. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
76. The Mind's Eye - Oliver Sacks
77. Ad Boy: Vintage Advertising With Character - Warren Dotz
78. Songs of Love & Death - George R. R. Martin, Gardner Dozois, Eds.
79. The Curious Incident of the Dog in Nighttime - Mark Haddon
80. The Road to Yesterday - L.M. Montgomery
81. Empire Falls - Richard Russo
82. The Cat in the Mirror - Mary Stolz

Total books read: 82
That's six more than I read in 2009.

By male authors: 34 (41%)
By female authors: 45 (55%)
By both: 3 (4%)

Previously read: 14 (17% - down from last year's 20%, but has nothing on 2008's impressive 4%)

Marketed for children/teens: 14 (17% - down from 2009's whopping 26%, but still a presence)

Fiction: 52 (63%)
Nonfiction: 30 (37%)

2010 still leaned more heavily toward fiction than nonfiction, but I noticed an interesting breakdown in the list itself. Aside from Under the Dome, the first fifteen books were all nonfiction. Then, for awhile, it was about half and half. But from book forty-five (somewhere around August) on, it's almost 100% fiction. I think that's because I spent a lot of time rereading series in the second half of the year. Two of those - the last three Harry Potter books and all of the Diana Gabaldons - can be blamed on my September trip to the U.K. I was also very busy in autumn, which meant turning to my own bookshelves and those of friends over the library for quick reads. That increased the numbers for "previously read," and certainly padded my fiction totals.

You should definitely read: The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum and Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. The Poisoner's Handbook is a fascinating account of the rise of forensic medicine around the 1920's. There are jaw-dropping anecdotes about women who worked in watch factories painting their fingernails with lead paint, and the ways unregulated prohibition-era bootleg liquor killed so many more people than alcohol ever had before. Cloud Atlas is a unique collection of six stories spanning ... well, space/time/worlds ... I'm not sure how to describe it. At first each story seems to end without warning and abruptly plunge the reader in the next, leaving you wondering what just happened. But eventually, you realize there is a method to the madness, and that it is awesome.

Don't bother reading: Cleaving by Julie Powell. It's not a bad book, really, but my god, Julie Powell is whiny and self-indulgent. She's honest, which I suppose is admirable (though really, do we have any real clue how honest she is?), but the enthusiastically detailed accounts of her infidelity made me want to punch something. Possibly Julie Powell. I felt like I was reading someone's LiveJournal.

2010 in review: Travel

2011-01-03T17:45:00.000-06:00

Happy 2011! Here's the first of three posts looking back at things I did in 2010. Without further ado, travel:

States visited (not counting layovers): 10
Illinois, Ohio, New Jersey, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, New York, Arizona, Massachusetts, Maine, Tennessee

New states: 2
Rhode Island and Maine. With that, the east coast is officially checked off!

States left before I reach 50: 5
Louisiana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana, Wyoming. I could have hit North Dakota for work last year, but it would have meant missing Rhode Island the same weekend. And since Rhode Island was not for work, Rhode Island won.

Countries visited: 4
England, Scotland, Spain, Senegal. Two of the countries were new! (I count Scotland separately, not as part of the UK.) And one of them meant...

New continents: 1
Africa. I have South America and Antarctica left to conquer. Somehow one of those seems easier than the other.

What's ahead for 2011? Aside from a return to the Berkshires in June, it's a blank slate so far. As always, my goal is at least one new state. Hopefully a new country, too.

The last of the year

2010-12-28T21:30:00.000-06:00

Happy holidays! I spent Christmas weekend with my family, which somehow entailed my mom's old tap dancing/baton twirling notebook being dragged out. My mom was a tap dancer and baton twirler as a child, earning billing in various recitals at the age of three as "Baby Tapper." The notebook kept track of her various routines, sporting a foil star next to each step she mastered. Based on a quick perusal of that notebook, I give you:

Tap Dancing or Baton Twirling Moves That Could Be Sex Acts

1. Stir the soup
2. Shuffle ball
3. Slap ball
4. Airplane around knees
5. Coffee grinder

The best soy latte that you ever had

2010-12-19T17:52:00.001-06:00

It happened again last week! The yearly 24-hour Letters to Santa benefit at Second City, featuring all manner of great musicians, wacky comedy, dance routines, field trips, interviews, and - this year - a little wrestling. Here's an incomplete photo retrospective:

6:30 p.m.: The 24 hours didn't officially begin until 7:00 p.m., but we got a bonus this year. These guys came out to play a selection of heartfelt tunes they "wrote" ... which turned out to be four songs by Train. A painfully hilarious start to the evening.

10:00-ish: I didn't take any pictures during Jeff Tweedy's annual set, but this is his guitar, Bob.

11:01 p.m.: Steve Albini interviews Andrew Mason, CEO of Groupon. Later Andrew played piano for a rollicking set of Billy Joel covers.

12:00 a.m.: J.C. Brooks and the Uptown Sound take the stage and inspire a room full of comedians and comedy fans to shake their groove things.

2:17 a.m.: Joan of Arc plays, loudly

2:42 a.m.: Human caterpillar!

5:03 a.m.: Jeff Parker treats us to some dreamy guitar

5:38 a.m.: TJ tells the instant classic "101 chairs walk into a bar" joke. For about twenty minutes.

7:07 a.m.: The babies and children come out to don various hats, eat muffins, and charm us all

7:36 a.m.: Jon Langford and Sally Timms drop by to sing some songs and shake a little maraca

9:25 a.m.: Actors are challenged to consume various food items, including a cup of scrambled eggs and a huge muffin, during a scene

1:00 p.m.: Former WWE wrestler Colt Cabana performs his finishing move on one of the actors, not to be let up until he names every U.S. president in order ... and predicts the next six

1:14 p.m.: Robbie Fulks and Gerald Dowd play a poignant "Dancing Queen"

2:59 p.m.: Bill Callahan nearly lulls me to sleep, through no fault of his own

4:44 p.m.: Improv!

5:04 p.m.: Our table. Clockwise: Starbucks peppermint mocha, napkin, Second City menus, Bible, Boston Market fountain drink, trail mix, brownie wrapper, gum wrapper, broken hair clip

5:18 p.m.: The Blisters rock us for the eighth straight year

And that's the last picture I took. Things finished up at 7:00 p.m. with the annual game of audience-participation freeze tag and an onstage reprisal of our second choreographed dance routine, "Magpie." The event raised nearly $100,000 for charity.

Viva la benefit!

See also:
Letters to Santa 2009

Letters to Santa 2008

Letters to Santa 2007

Letters to Santa 2006

Letters to Santa 2005

New York in winter

2010-12-12T16:12:00.001-06:00

Last weekend in NYC was the perfect getaway. Only one vacation day used, and three full days in the city. We stayed at the Solita Soho (yes, there's a Solita now), with an excellent view of the Museum of Chinese in America ... just plain MOCA for short.

Friday night my flight got in at 8:20, and by 9:15 I was at the Red Lion on Bleecker, enjoying the last hour of the last Friday Night Campfire of 2010 with Martin Rivas and Craig Meyer. I think I saw at least fifty of the songs they played that night, in medley form.

On Saturday, Paul and I walked around the Lower East Side in search of food, eventually finding some ... but not before being driven from our first two choices by huge crowds. Memo to self: Christmas weekends in NYC bring the tourists out in droves. (Holla!) I wandered around Little Italy and Chinatown in the afternoon, before heading to the Bowery Ballroom for Jeff Tweedy and the Autumn Defense. I hadn't seen the AD in awhile, and I enjoyed some of the songs from their newest album. I also appreciated hearing "A Full Five Paces" live again for the first time in years.

Jeff Tweedy, the night's headliner, played an enjoyable set. There were plenty of little flubs and mistakes, the kind that make things more entertaining for the crowd - at least, for me - but don't necessarily make a great show for the performer. However, Jeff didn't seem phased. I realized I've been spoiled by the marathon solo shows for charity I've seen in recent years - the respectable 1.5 hour set seemed short in comparison. But whenever I get to hear such songs as "Bob Dylan's Beard," "Chinese Apple," and "Country Disappeared," there's nothing to complain about. The Bowery is a tiny place, and we were very lucky to get in.

I spent Sunday with Allison, from brunch at Shopsin's to dinner at an Indian restaurant in Park Slope. In between there was shopping in Soho, a visit to a friend's store in Brooklyn Heights, perusing Christmas trees on the street, and delicious smoothies. I think I'm nearly as excited about Alli and Olli's impending new arrival as they are! (Okay, that's totally not true. But I am very excited.)

Monday, I finally experienced Momofuku. Paul and I went to the Noodle Bar, and I now get what the fuss is about. The ramen was amazing, but I think the pork buns were my highlight. That pork belly! I wouldn't be surprised if it appears in my dreams.

Sunday afternoon it was off to Tarrytown for Jeff Tweedy and the Autumn Defense again. I have to admit that one of the most exciting parts of going to Tarrytown, for me, was its proximity to the former home of the fictional Draper family from Mad Men. If we just stayed on the train, I exclaimed to Paul, we could go to Ossining! So as you might imagine, my favorite part of Jeff's performance may have been his announcement about wearing a suit to honor Eugene Draper's birthplace of Tarrytown. I was most impressed because I couldn't even have come up with that particular bit of trivia. So, Jeff, or the person who told Jeff ... my hat's off to you. The show itself was good, though shorter than Bowery, and our seats were in the acoustic sweet spot. "What's the World Got In Store" was a welcome surprise.

Early Tuesday morning I flew home. I was back at work by mid-morning, and by the end of the day it was hard to believe I'd ever left. But I had!

For the first time in recent memory, I don't have any future flights scheduled. I'm not sure how long that will be true, but I'm enjoying it for now. Still, I'm looking forward to whatever 2011 might bring in the way of trips, concerts, or (my favorite) both.

(Update: the whole "not having any future flights scheduled" thing was true for exactly eight days.)

Now it's December

2010-12-01T19:23:00.000-06:00

It's true! This past weekend, I went to the Badgers' last home game of the year at Camp Randall. Because I'm one of the biggest cold weather wimps I know, I was a little worried. As it turns out, though, as long as you wear about four layers of clothing, the 20's aren't so bad. Seeing Wisconsin crush Northwestern, earn a share of the Big Ten title, and hopefully secure a Rose Bowl bid was definitely worth it. And at the end, there were fireworks.

This coming weekend, I will be in New York City. Even though I didn't make it to California this year, at least I'll hit NYC twice! December is in the danger zone for travel weather ... we've now entered the time of year when I can never count on being able to get anywhere. (Also see above re: cold weather wimpitude.) So far the forecast looks okay, so fingers are crossed.

Things I've done lately

2010-11-21T13:39:00.000-06:00

November isn't a month with a lot going on around these parts, but I've managed to keep occupied. Last Friday, I won tickets to see the band Dawes play live at Studio M at the Triple M radio station. I'd heard good buzz about Dawes live, though I was a little suspicious after reading about their connection with Jonathan Wilson and the whole Laurel Canyon crowd. I wasn't able to attend their Friday night show at the Majestic, so the chance to see them free in a very small room that afternoon was much appreciated.

Triple M gave out free beer and Blue Sky soda before the show, an unexpected bonus. Not being a soda or beer fan, I still appreciated the thought. After drinks were distributed, approximately twenty of us were led down to the studio where Dawes was already set up on a small stage. They played four songs, and were interviewed for about half an hour. It was interesting to be part of a future radio broadcast - a little bit like being in a TV audience. I enjoyed the performance, although judging from some of the questions in the interview, I'm guessing I don't have a much better feel for the full Dawes live show than I did before. According to lead singer Taylor Goldsmith, they don't typically use acoustic guitars at all. The studio performance consisted of one acoustic guitar, and three voices - the bass player didn't attend, because he doesn't sing. Maybe I'll catch a proper Dawes show sometime. From all I've heard, good things seem to be ahead for the band.

On Thursday, I saw Anthony Bourdain at the Overture Center. I'm a fan of Tony's various TV shows and books, but I wasn't sure what to expect from his live appearance. As it turned out, more of the delightful same: trash talk about various Food Network personalities, anecdotes about Top Chef, rants and advice about traveling and eating abroad, and a lengthy Q&A session at the end. Someone asked a leading question about high speed trains in Wisconsin, earning a huge laugh and big applause when Tony - clearly getting that he had suddenly become part of some inside joke - nevertheless spoke in favor of high speed rail. Listening to the crowd's reaction, I again wished Dane County could somehow secede from Wisconsin.

Between those two activities, I had a birthday. There was no big trip or serenades this year, but I had a very pleasant day and heard from many friends and family members. Plus, a coworker friend brought a birthday treat to work on my behalf. Someone else baking your birthday treat: highly recommended. And this afternoon: Harry Potter!

Posters

2010-11-08T20:32:00.003-06:00

I was home sick one day last week, and figured I might as well make myself useful. I proceeded to dig out and catalog all of the posters I've acquired and not hung up over the past eight years or so. Nearly all are music-related: a mixture of show posters, album posters, and generic artist posters, with the odd music documentary poster and ... 1996 U.S. Men's Olympic Gymnastics Team poster ... thrown in. Again: these are posters that have been stored in two closets in my home, mostly unframed, not doing anybody any good.

Q: How many posters were there?
A: There were fifty-seven posters.

I know this makes it sound like the Hoarders production crew might be stopping by at any moment, but I swear you'd never know to look at my closets that they harbored fifty-seven posters. They take up so little room propped flat against the wall! Even rolled up in groups, they're deceptively unassuming.

Of course, I didn't buy all of them. Some were torn from windows or doors after a show, some were included with the purchase of an album, some were freebies from friendly record stores. Still, perhaps the knowledge that I have fifty-seven undisplayed posters in my house ought to prevent me from ever purchasing a poster again. It's true that I have curbed my poster-buying in recent years ... but sometimes I can't resist. I'm a sucker for local venue posters, or posters from shows I'm proud to have seen. I keep thinking that I'll frame more of them, and I will! Really! If nothing else, this project reminded me that I have some gems that deserve to be enjoyed.

But where to put them? Between the spare bedroom and my office at work, I already have a respectable total on display. The living room and hallways could accommodate many more, but it's not the design aesthetic I'm striving for in the main living areas of my home. I could rotate the posters that are on display now. Maybe I need to explore the untapped potential of bathrooms.

Here are a few of the posters I cataloged last week. The others can be found in this Flickr set. Any votes for which ones should be framed (and/or actually hung) next?

A jet plane and a big idea

2010-11-01T21:14:00.000-05:00

For a long time now, I've wanted to see a show at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. I've seen The Avett Brothers live twice, and thoroughly enjoyed both concerts. So when the Avetts announced a pair of Halloween shows at the Ryman earlier this year, including one on Saturday night, I thought, "Hey, I should go to that." And I did.

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals opened the show, calling out a surprise guest on one song for a duet: Kenny Chesney. I honestly wasn't sure if it really was Kenny Chesney at the time - it seems it was - but he did sound good. Grace Potter's crew was dressed in NASCAR gear for Halloween, and Grace claimed that she and her bassist were dressed as "professionals ... not professional musicians."

The curtain closed between sets, keeping stage preparations a mystery. In the meantime, the well-costumed crowd entertained itself by singing loudly along with "Living on a Prayer" and "Rocket Man." Eventually, the lights dimmed and the curtain parted to reveal a suitably creepy Halloween setup. The band, dressed as mummies, lurched onstage and hammed it up before beginning the show with fitting opener: "Die Die Die."

Judging from reports of Friday's show, the Avetts varied the setlists widely across the two nights. I was happy to hear "In the Curve," and "SSS," even if I missed "Laundry Room." Bob Crawford, Seth, and Scott all took solo turns on Saturday. "Murder in the City" was the first song of the encore, with Scott sporting a new tiara along with the mummy costume - an interesting juxtaposition with the simple, heartfelt lyrics of the song. I think I've seen "Murder in the City" each time I've seen the band, but this was the first time I heard Scott sing "my brother" and "my father" in place of "sister" and "mother." (The other two times, I think he substituted wife and daughter. It's a versatile song.)

Two hours after the show began, it ended with Grace Potter and a couple of her band members dancing on stage with the Avetts, and Scott and Seth cutting off pieces of their mummy costumes to hand out to audience members. I left the Ryman happy on Halloween Eve - and even returned for a backstage tour the next day before my flight home. I'm pleased that I can check the Ryman Auditorium off my list of places to visit - and very pleased that I saw The Avett Brothers one more time in 2010.

Historical intrigue

2010-10-24T16:16:00.000-05:00

Joseph Very Quarles (Senator)

On a recent visit to Kenosha, I unearthed the abstract and title for my parents' house. It's a sizable document, detailing the ownership of the land the house was built on, and eventually the house itself. Included is a charming map of the sector of land first purchased in 1839 and then divided up into plots. The map is from 1920, and I love it because all the streets and avenues had their old names. Seventy-fifth Street was Selma Avenue. The little park was already there on the median in the middle of 27th Avenue, but 27th Avenue was called Erie Street.

Included in the abstract are various Last Wills and Testaments, by which the land passed from one owner to the next. At some point around the middle of the nineteenth century, it was owned by Ann Quarles. Her last Will and Testament was among the most interesting, bequeathing such items as a portrait of herself (to her baby granddaughter), and a portrait of her deceased son (to another of her sons.) She also left a gold watch, chain, and "appendages" to a Joseph V. Quarles, or, in the event of his death before her own, to his wife.

I'm not sure of the relationship between Ann Quarles and Joseph V. Quarles, but Ann appointed Joseph and a man named Michael Frank as the executors of her will. The rest of the will detailed specifications for what should happen to her estate. Four thousand dollars was to be taken from the total remaining after the sale of all her properties, invested in real estate bonds, and the interest earned was to be split yearly between two of her sons. The remaining total from the sale of her estate was to be split between her three daughters. There were more clauses for various eventualities.

This was all kind of cool, but none of those later details grabbed my interest like Article III of the will. Before Ann Quarles went into specifics about her estate, there was Article III. One sentence. "To my son Samuel Quarles I leave the sum of Twenty Five Dollars."

OH SNAP.

That was the one and only time Samuel Quarles was mentioned. I have a hundred questions, of course. What did Samuel do to piss off his mother? Was he a genuine scoundrel, or did he just, say, marry a kitchen maid? Why bother naming him in the will at all? It had to be for vindictive purposes, right? The whole family would come together for the reading of the will, and Samuel would be humiliated in front of the largest possible audience?

Things only got more interesting with the next document in the abstract, a notarized statement by Michael Frank. In it, he refused to be an executor of Ann Quarles' Last Will and Testament. Why would he refuse? Too much on his plate? Or was it possible that Michael Frank didn't approve of Article III, and wanted nothing to do with the will? Obviously that's wild speculation, given that this probably wasn't among the top ten most outrageous things you'd find in a will, even in the 1800s. And it looks like Michael Frank was a busy guy. Still, I wonder.

It may be possible to find answers to some of these questions. The Quarles family was prominent in Kenosha. A quick Google search shows that there were at least four men named Joseph V. Quarles (each man kept passing the name down to his son). The first was a notable Wisconsin pioneer. His son was a lawyer, eventually mayor of Kenosha, and a Wisconsin senator around the turn of the century. One of them was the Joseph V. Quarles named as executor of Ann's will (and left a gold watch). I don't know how Ann Quarles was related to Joseph, but that should be one of the easier mysteries to solve. Beyond that, I'm not sure. Scour old Kenosha newspapers for mentions of Samuel Quarles? Look for a marriage certificate? Talk to someone who knows Kenosha history? If only they had the internet back in the 1800s.

I have no idea when I might find time to delve into this, but I'm happy to have a little history project for a rainy day. Okay, to be honest ... probably a whole lot of rainy days.

Kindergarten, 1973

2010-10-20T19:00:00.001-05:00

I posted this once before, years ago, but I came across it today while cleaning out some files. It's cute. And it's been a slow week. So - here it is again.

This is pretty much my family's only good brush with fame story, so I have to keep it alive. (For a larger version, click and zoom.)

Blue lake and rocky shore

2010-10-10T17:59:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, Allison and I took a trip to Maine. We spent Friday night in Portland, Saturday in Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park, and then drove back to Portland on Sunday.

I loved it. We picked an excellent time of year to visit. Friday was rainy, but Saturday and Sunday were sunny and beautiful, with temperatures in the low 60's. Perfect weather for a day at Acadia among the spruce and fir trees next to the ocean. The park wasn't too crowded, and the wildness was palpable. Even though the coast of Maine has been settled longer than central Wisconsin, nature feels much less tame there than it does here. Falls colors weren't at their peak, but well on the way. We hiked the Ocean Path from Otter Point to Sand Beach, part of the Jordan Pond Shore trail, around the summit of Cadillac Mountain, and caught a beautiful, chilly, blustery sunset at the Blue Hill Overlook. We even saw a bald eagle.

The shops and scenery in Portland were charming, and even on Friday we didn't let the rain stop us from exploring. We poked in and out of stores - there's a lot of pottery in Portland - and took a monumentally gusty walk in the rain along Casco Bay. On Sunday morning we found the Maine Historical Society, and I paid a fascinating visit to the Tate House Museum before I left on Sunday afternoon. I now know what I want to do when I retire ... I was born for docenthood.

On every step of the trip, sometimes by accident, Allison and I dined well. A restaurant with hanging herbs in the small dining room, a chowder house, Jordan Pond House in Acadia, a funky cafe in Bar Harbor, S.O.S. for brunch in South Portland, drinks at a majestic bar that used to be a church. And everywhere - stores, restaurants, hotels, museums, the park - people were incredibly friendly and helpful. Maine knows how to make an excellent impression.

With my shiny new star-spangled tennis shoes on

2010-09-30T18:54:00.000-05:00

On Tuesday, September 28th, everyone in the world came to downtown Madison.

Well, maybe not everyone, but I can't remember a day when I was presented with so many big-name opportunities in my own city. The National and Owen Pallett had been scheduled for months at the Oprheum, and the Drive-By Truckers were at the Majestic. Then, a couple of weeks ago, it was announced that President Obama would hold the first of four "Moving America Forward" rallies in Madison. Ben Harper would be the musical guest. Last week, I heard Jason Isbell was performing for free at the Wisconsin Veteran's Museum Tuesday afternoon. And just a couple of days ago, The National was added to the Obama rally bill along with Mama Digdown's Brass Band. Daaaamn.

I was nearly paralyzed by all the choices, along with horror of the downtown crowds and diverted traffic that would doubtless await. In the end, I decided I could attend the rally - or try to - and make it back to the top of State Street in time for The National's show. Surprisingly, I didn't have trouble finding a spot in a downtown parking garage. I was lulled by the relative calm of State Street into grabbing a coffee and newspaper before moving toward Library Mall to find the end of the line.

Hahahahahaha! By the time I found the end of the line, I'd walked with throngs of others from the base of Library Mall at Park and Bascom Hill south to University Avenue, west to Charter, north on Charter to Linden, and a few blocks west down Linden. That's the better part of a mile, folks. And people continued to arrive behind me. (I'm not counting all the people who cut, which must have at least tripled the length of the line in front of us.) Was it even worth it to wait? Library Mall isn't that big, and I knew it would take at least an hour to get back once the line began moving. But, I was there, so figured I might as well try.

It did take more than an hour - I walked through the gates as Tammy Baldwin began her speech - but I did get in. Hooray! It was too full to get anywhere near the front of the stage, to put it mildly, but walking around behind the stage gave intermittent views at relatively close range. I got there just in time for The National to come out and play two songs, "Fake Empire" and "Terrible Love." More speeches followed, including an appearance by Russ Feingold - proving rumors of his skipping the rally to be false. Ben Harper played some songs. I took in the scene, which included an impressive number of cops and men in suits and sunglasses, a few black choppers overhead, and honest-to-goodness snipers on the roof of Memorial Library. Then Tom Barrett introduced Barack Obama, the first sitting president to appear in Madison since Harry Truman.

I enjoyed Obama's speech (and the fact that he talked about getting up to shenanigans in Madison when he first moved to Chicago, and got in a few Bears-Packers barbs). But in the back of my mind, I was also thinking, "Crap, I need to make it back to the Orpheum." I didn't have to worry about the show itself, since the band was still there watching the president's speech. Still, I hate cutting things close.

Finding my way out of the security labyrinth proved more difficult than entering. From where I stood at the rally, I could see State Street a mere block away, overflow crowds bunching around the security barriers. So close, yet so far. In order to get there, I had to walk up Observatory Drive and essentially cut across campus and back. I still wound up arriving before doors at the Orpheum, since the show's start time had been pushed back. A long line greeted me, but by then "long line" was a relative term. Once inside I confirmed that the high stage was back, which meant arrival time didn't matter much anyway.

Owen Pallett was great in the opening slot - another reminder that unfamiliar openers aren't just something to be politely endured until the main act. As Owen played the violin (and keyboard) and employed a looping technique, I couldn't help thinking of Andrew Bird. Pallet's style seems a bit more classical and less ... whimsical? The songs aren't really similar, but I can now safely say I enjoy both. I particularly liked the song about the skyline of Toronto.

Around 9:15, The National took the stage. Though this was my first National concert, my interest in the band was in fact sparked by a live performance. Totally unfamiliar with their music, I happened to be watching Letterman earlier this year on a night when The National was the musical guest. They played "Afraid of Everyone," and by the end of the song they had made a big impression on me. Over the next few months I picked up and became very familiar with their three most recent albums, which served me well on Tuesday.

It's always interesting to see a band live for the first time. I had some notions of what a show might be like based on their music and a few interviews and reviews, but of course the reality was something different. I expected them to put on an intense, energetic show, which they absolutely did. I didn't expect them to be as funny as they were between songs. People apparently love to play "Slow Show" at weddings, even though, in the words of one of the Dessners, "This is the song where Matt talks about his dick." Matt Berninger pointed out that the whole song isn't about his dick ... it's mostly about getting married. There were anecdotes about the Dessners' cousin, Jeff, who played hockey for the UW and now sells insurance in Minnesota, and how Mrs. Dessner disapproved of a particular song because of all the yelling, and thought early on that they ought to find a pretty girl to be the singer. (Matt concurred.) Lots of talk about Obama - the band had met him for the first time that day, and were still riding high. "He looked super nervous when he met us," Matt joked. He later told the crowd that they'd been trying to figure out what to say to the president. Drummer Bryan Devendorf's sentiment of choice? "You rocked it, sir!" Matt added that Bryan had been wearing dark glasses and a headband at the time. "And then [Obama] ignored the rest of us and went off to do shots with Bryan."

That was between songs. During songs, the band was all business: which is to say, they gave an emotional, energetic performance. Being a first-timer, I don't know what their concerts are typically like, or which songs might make longtime fans check their watches. From my perspective, though, the setlist was excellent. Songs I'd been hoping to hear were there: "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks," "Abel" (the song with all the yelling), "Afraid of Everyone" (for the media), "Bloodbuzz Ohio" (dedicated to the swing states), "Fake Empire," the slow-building anthem "England."

Toward the end of the show, Matt noted that this was one of the best days they'd ever had. The performance of "Mr. November" was especially appropriate that night, and though Matt didn't venture off the Orpheum's eight-foot stage, he did drape himself halfway over its edge, a sea of hands reaching out to touch his back and shoulders. And I couldn't have been more surprised to find myself near tears at the end of "Terrible Love," shouting the refrain over and over with the the band and 1500 others. "It takes an ocean not to break." I don't know what it means, exactly, but at the same time I do. What a cathartic song. In the end, that's what the best rock concerts can offer.

Back in August, I had to decide whether to see The National in Milwaukee or The New Pornographers in Madison. I chose TNP. Would I choose differently now? I'm not sure. Reason says I'd still go with the show in town, but it would be a much tougher decision after Tuesday.

England and Scotland

2010-09-27T19:36:00.003-05:00

I'm neither English nor Scottish. So why did my trip to the UK feel so much like visiting part of my own history? I suppose it's a combination of factors. Until world history in high school, the majority of history we learned in school was Anglocentric. It's just so much a part of our culture here, or at least mine growing up. Part of our stories, our historical sites, our media. When the American Revolution was fought, none of my ancestors had anything to do with it ... unless it was that stray Native American line. But mostly, my ancestors were off in Greece and Italy and Austria-Hungary and Belgium and Denmark, not caring at all. In my head, though, that's not how it goes. So I was excited to spend some time in a place that already felt, in an odd way, like my territory.

What did I do on my trip besides see concerts? Plenty. Though I had a few free hours in London last summer, I was pleased to spend a bit more time there this year. Not nearly enough, of course. But I had afternoon tea with Paul at The Wolseley, explored a proper British department store, walked across the Thames, and paid a visit to the original Reckless Records on Berwick Street. We left for Newcastle-upon-Tyne from King's Cross Station, and if it weren't for construction issues, I would definitely have visited Platform 9-3/4 too. I'd like to take in London by the gulp rather than small sips, but this will do for now.

In Newcastle, we visited Grainger Market, which opened in 1835 and boasts the world's smallest Marks & Spencer store. It also has some yummy food. We ate both a lunch and a traditional English breakfast there, all made with market ingredients. Side note: breakfast sausage in England and Scotland beats the hell out of our weak, wrinkly American version. But I'm not a huge fan of black pudding. Grainger Market wasn't the only place we sampled the food and drink of Newcastle: a cafe called The Scrumpy Willow and the Singing Kettle makes a mean banana lassi. And I thought lassis were only made of mango!

From Newcastle we went to Glasgow, arriving on the same day as the Pope. We steered clear of Papal activities, though, keeping occupied well away from Bellahouston Park. We wandered around the city centre, Buchanan Street, Argyle Street, and the Barras neighborhood. Glasgow's architecture is pretty great, owing much to Charles Rennie Mackintosh. My first thought upon seeing some of his designs was of local hero Frank Lloyd Wright. They were contemporaries in the Arts & Crafts world at the turn of the century, it turns out, but Mackintosh's work seems more fanciful somehow. I also admired a huge metal art deco peacock on the Princes Street Shopping Centre. Mackintosh didn't have all the fun in Glasgow.

I took a solo day trip to Edinburgh on Friday, armed with maps and advice from locals Iain and Ann. Clouds rolled away in the morning, leaving me with a bright, sunny day to enjoy the city. I walked to the top of Calton Hill, exploring the Old Calton Burial Ground on the way. I strolled the Royal Mile to Edinburgh Castle and spent hours exploring its nooks and crannies, admiring the spectacular views. I ate wild boar sausage at the castle cafe, and visited St. Margaret's Chapel: the oldest building in Edinburgh, dating back to the 1100's. I got some excellent shopping in on High Street and the surrounding area. I wandered down wynds and closes, and visited the small Writer's Museum. I found the statue of Greyfriars Bobby. I browsed at the Central Lending Library, reading a chapter from a book debating whether Jane Eyre could have been happy in the years following the book's conclusion. And I got back to Glasgow in time to pick up a late dinner from Wagamama.

The next day was my last in Scotland, and I finally took the Clockwork Orange (Glasgow's subway) west. Signs for the Papal Mass still pointed the way from Ibrox to Bellahouston Park, though the Pope himself had Popemobiled away days earlier. My destination was House for an Art Lover, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. I loved it. It blows my mind that house and furnishings were dreamed up by Mackintosh when the Victorian style was still in vogue. The smooth, clean lines and abundance of light seemed decades ahead of their time. Aside from the house, I walked around in the park and enjoyed more art and gardens. On my way back, I nearly got swept up in the tide of red-and-blue-clad Glaswegians headed to Ibrox for the afternoon football game. I bought myself a scarf from one of the many street vendors set up near the stadium. A couple more hours puttering around Buchanan Street, and then it was time to take a bus to the airport. I flew to London that night, and back home in the morning.

So that was my trip. I'd love to get back to Scotland, and see more of the countryside next time. I'm not sure when I'll be able to make that happen, but I've learned that you never can tell.

Watch the miles flying by

2010-09-20T17:30:00.013-05:00

I'm freshly back from the United Kingdom, with a lingering desire to keep traveling. Rock tourism once again gave me the push to book a holiday I might otherwise have waffled on indefinitely. Thanks to some helpful scheduling, I checked a major item off The List! As is customary, my trip had a musical component and non-musical component. In this post, I'll talk about the concerts: Wilco in London, Newcastle, and Glasgow.

London was an afterthought in planning, but I'm grateful it worked out. Originally I had my eye on the two northern GA shows, which fit in with work and let me visit Scotland. After researching routes, though, it made the most sense to begin in London. Since both Paul and I were arriving on the day Wilco was playing, shouldn't we try to attend? Fortunately, despite the short notice, everything fell into place. We were treated to an excellent show at Royal Festival Hall, and I would have been bummed to miss the onstage debut of Synthesizer Patel! Sanjeev Kohli appeared in character with a keytar during "You Never Know," to the confusion and/or delight of all. Songs like "Poor Places" and "Reservations" sounded great from our seats, as did "How to Fight Loneliness." The unlikeliest-song-during-which-to-bust-a-string award went to "Some Day Some Morning Sometime," and Jeff had to wait for a new guitar before making the intended transition into a scorching "Laminated Cat." On a secondary note, we had fun people spotting. With a comedian like Sanjeev making cameo appearances, Philip Selway opening, the 7 Worlds Collide gang, and friends like Bill Fay, Wilco has amassed many London connections.

Newcastle was a shorter show than London, but the general admission atmosphere was a nice change of pace. The crowd was enthusiastic, though in terms of makeup and dress it couldn't measure up to the attendees of a certain other show. The O2 Academy in Newcastle houses multiple venues, and in the secondary theater, the night's headliner was Skeletonwitch. Hopefully nobody went to the wrong concert by accident. Jeff did some great impressions of the black metal band Venom, natives of Newcastle; and we got a great version of "Shouldn't Be Ashamed." Though Jeff's displeasure with a videotaper and underwhelming security caused a bit of friction late in the show, it was another solid night of rock. And there was one more to go.

My last show was at the Barrowland Ballroom in Glasgow. The venue has character to spare. It's an old dance hall on the third floor of a building with wooden stars on the ceiling, and the decor and fonts reminded me of a style I'll call "70's bowling alley chic." The neon sign outside puts all other signs to shame. Barrowlands crowds have historically been known to chuck bottles of piss at the stage, but happily that element didn't seem to be in attendance for Wilco. Instead, we got one of the best shows I've seen in awhile. It was one of those nights when every song seemed to be performed at 110%, and the crowd roared its approval in between. The show was again shorter than those we'd been seeing in the U.S., but it didn't suffer for it. There were many highlights, but my favorite moment was recognizing the opening chords of the encore's final song: "Kicking Television" at last! I was thrilled that Jeff remembered my request, and they were willing to play it. Later I figured out I last saw "Kicking TV" in May of '05. As great as it sounded in Glasgow, I wonder why it doesn't appear more. But if it did, maybe it wouldn't pack such a punch.

It seems likely I won't have another chance to see Wilco until well into 2011. I'm glad I made this trip across the pond for one last hurrah in 2010. Then again, I'm always happy to have gone. I must note that this wasn't my last rock tourism trip of 2010, however. Stay tuned ... there's some more chipping away at The List to be done in October.

Twice if you're lucky

2010-09-10T17:25:00.024-05:00

Plenty has happened since the last time I saw Crowded House in August 2007. Though the band hasn't toured these parts since Time On Earth, I haven't exactly suffered from a Finn drought. There was the Split Enz concert in Wellington, 2008; Neil solo and with the 7 Worlds Collide brigade at Largo in 2009. Young Liam also toured the midwest in 2009 with that other band I like. But when 2010 brought a new Crowded House album and tour, I was happy to sign on for the local concerts: Chicago and Milwaukee.

The two venues didn't have much in common. Chicago's show was at the House of Blues, with a raucous, drunk, very enthusiastic audience. In Milwaukee the band returned to the lush Pabst Theater, with a smaller, more attentive, (mostly) more sedate crowd. I had a good time at both shows, but oddly Milwaukee featured more audience banter and interaction. Mark Hart even climbed down into the crowd during the show, tasked with deciphering the request of an inebriated audience member. Mark was sidetracked by someone else, which was for the best: the man wanted Neil to play a song by himself. However, Neil was determined to find out what the guy was saying. He announced that if someone could land a paper airplane onstage with a transcription as well as their own request, he guaranteed they'd play it. What an offer! I can't fold a paper airplane, but from the third row I'm sure I could have fashioned something that would fly far enough. The only thing stopping me was a complete lack of paper. Maybe the drunk man's comment wasn't worth hearing, but I would have reported the hell out of it in exchange for "Catherine Wheels."

Nevertheless, I have no complaints about the songs that were played over the two nights. Chicago's setlist held its own with songs like "Chocolate Cake" (echoing the jokes we'd made at dinner when Sam got free birthday chocolate cake at the HoB restaurant) and the insanely fun "I Got You." (I challenge anyone to stand still during "I Got You.") A guitar-tuning jam evolved into a cover of CCR's "Born on the Bayou" with Mark on lead vocals. Neil's dad was hooked up to watch the show by video chat, via a laptop that sat onstage the whole night. At the end the crowd got the opportunity to say hello, and listen in as Nick Seymour ask the elder Mr. Finn a few questions. "Is it a nice day there in New Zealand?" "No, it's a terrible day."

Milwaukee's setlist was substantially different from Chicago's, featuring eight songs that hadn't been played on Sunday. I was pleased to hear one of my favorites from the new album, "Amsterdam," even if the song seems to cast the entire city as a bastion of immorality. The verse of "Black and White Boy" spliced into "Private Universe" was also a treat (I'm not counting that as a ninth different song), and I could sing along to classics like "Mean to Me" and "Weather With You" all night. But when Neil sat down at the keys to play "Message to My Girl," the acoustics of the Pabst really came through. Speaking of the theater, Neil seemed to find the confluence of consonants in "Pabst" entertaining. He also mentioned the Pfister Hotel. "You're probably used to it, but I find it quaint and exotic." And, once again, Wayne's World came up. I wonder if Dana Carvey and Mike Myers are aware of being the world's Milwaukee ambassadors.

After the Milwaukee show was over, I lingered outside chatting with friends. When I finally headed to my car I noticed the band had begun to emerge from the theater. Having scored a setlist earlier from the soundboard, I decided that stopping for a bit would be worth the later bedtime. At long last, I met Neil Finn. For about ten seconds. (I don't think letting him and Sharon past at the soundboard after Wilco in Wellington counted as a meeting.) The rest of the band signed my setlist too, and it was a nice ending to my two days of Crowded House. There was talk that the band might return to play a few big-market shows in the U.S. next year. I'd prefer Madison, of course, but if the Crowdies come within my Mad-Mil-Chi concert radius, I think you can count me in.

For the accurate setlist as played, look here.

Wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you

2010-09-02T00:45:00.006-05:00

On Saturday, the Hotel S'n'S basement show celebrated its sixth year of bringing together our group of friends from across the U.S. and Canada. The big question was, would it be the last? There had been talk that the Tweedys might not do the auction again, at least for awhile. We figured we had better stuff as much fun into this weekend as possible, just in case.

As if that's ever a problem. Friday night kicked off with our annual party. This year's theme: Vampires at a Discotheque. August didn't leave me with much spare time, so I ended up with one of my lamer theme costumes. Just some ninety-nine cent plastic vampire teeth and some "vampire blood" spray candy. Luckily, Paul's "Vampire Weekend" getup picked up the slack. Many of our friends couldn't make it to town until the next day, but Sam and Sooz's friends filled in the gaps. We spent Friday night happily drinking blood punch, playing Rock Band, watching Sam's mix of old commercial clips on the big screen, and dancing to Gaga and the whole vampire party mix.

And then Saturday arrived. Some of us made the traditional gourmet encased meats run to Hot Doug's in the early afternoon, and then it was on to Hotel S'n'S to finish preparations. I had my pie pops to artfully arrange, and the food kept rolling in. As usual, our potluck was truly outstanding. Walrus brought not only the soft serve machine and plenty of fixings, but a sno cone machine as well. Cathy brought a flan cheesecake and Japanese-style curry. Dick's meat returned after a one-year hiatus, to much fanfare. Kris and Alison brought brisket from Smoque and the famous mac 'n' cheese. Sooz's orzo, Kristina's slaw, Uyen's little Guinness cupcakes, Tamala's stuffed bread, a donated keg of Alpha King ... and much more. We ate and drank well all night long.

The Tweedys arrived a bit earlier than usual, and we got down to business. Ever since year three, the show's format has remained the same: each person requests a song, then chooses someone to go next. Jeff has some warning of the songs we're planning to ask for, but that doesn't mean he can or will play them all. Still, I think we got an especially high percentage of granted wishes. I was thrilled to finally hear Richard and Mimi Farina's lovely "Reflections in a Crystal Wind" live. "Big Rock Candy Mountain" was a surprising treat, and the Elizabeth Cotten song "Freight Train" was one of my favorites of the night. Another was our own favourite Canadian, Judy, lending a hand with some tricky lyrics in Neil Young's "Look Out For My Love."

Cover songs are rare and therefore notable, but Jeff's own songs provided the heart of the show. "More Like the Moon" is nearly perfect, and Saturday night's performance was no exception. "Nothing Up My Sleeve" made a welcome return, and "Misunderstood" turned into an excellent singalong. Of course, who could forget Jeff serenading Zelda the pug, asleep at his feet, with the third verse of "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart"? Racy! Zelda remained unmoved.

A major part of our show is the atmosphere. As I mentioned, this was year six, and things felt comfortable and familiar. From both performer and audience came plenty of sarcasm, storytelling, joking, drinking (okay, that was really just the audience) and general tomfoolery. We don't use a PA, and the central air was turned off so Jeff wouldn't have to sing over it. Conditions in the basement quickly became hot and sweaty, which somehow added to the merriment. This may be cheating, but during one of the breaks I got in a song request for an upcoming show. Strike while the iron is hot? Or something. I also learned that a "new" song we overheard at a South Bend soundcheck is actually by Linda Thompson. Clearly I need to brush up on my British folk artist catalogs.

The show ended hours after it began with our traditional "Candyfloss" sing- and dance-along. Before that, though, we got in one more cover: Big Star's "Thank You, Friends." Never have the lyrics to that song felt more appropriate, dancing around Sooz's basement and belting it out with some of my favorite people in the world. As Jeff stood amongst us, playing, I thought ... damn. We certainly have been lucky. "Thank you again!" morphed into "Thank you Jeff!" Tipsy and sentimental? Sure. Singing from the heart? You bet.

After the show came the sweaty group photo, the distribution of posters, and a few other things. By the time Susan and Jeff had gone, it was officially Sunday morning. Time for a second (third, fourth, whatever) round of eating, and then the music to begin again in the basement. We had multiple guitarists lending a hand this year, and two egg shakers in addition to the Dr. Teeth tambourine. Just call us a band. Mart's set was the postshow highlight for me, as it always is, and Rob provided some tasteful assistance. My favorite song, I think, was "I Am the Walrus." After having played Ringo on that song just the night before, I was content to shake an egg shaker and sing along. Music and friends: a wonderful combination.

The fun didn't end with Saturday (er, Sunday morning.) Eleven of us met for brunch at Milk & Honey, to say goodbye before more planes departed the Windy City. U, Heidi, Paul, and I followed that up with a walk around Grant and Millennium Parks, before heading back to S'n'S to scarf down leftovers (Japanese curry and slaw!) and watch the Emmys and Mad Men. It was almost Monday before I reluctantly headed back home. Yes, Harry McClintock, I would like to hang the jerk that invented work.

Was this the final year of the private show auction? We don't really know. When we won that first auction in 2004, it seemed like this whole situation was too good to be true. By 2010, I know it was too good to be true ... but somehow it was true nonetheless. Jeff and Susan have done amazing things for all of us, and even more amazing things for the charity. If this was the end, we had a hell of a run. If this wasn't the end, then here's to the future. As a matter of fact, here's to the future regardless. Thank you, friends.

2009
2008
2007
2006

I've had a Wilco-intensive month or so, with some New Pornographers thrown in for good measure. But things are about to get Crowded Housey, beginning Sunday.

Pie pops

2010-08-27T12:25:00.002-05:00

I'm not much of a baker. Not that things generally turn out badly when I bake, but I don't do it very often and I'm wildly inefficient. There are a handful of things I'm comfortable making, but my skill set doesn't necessarily translate to other projects.

However, last night, I made pie pops.

Every year since 2005, my friends and I have gathered for a potluck feast on the afternoon of another annual tradition. Every year, my contribution has been baklava. Baklava is something my family has made at least annually for as long as I can remember, so it wasn't a big deal. But last year ago I saw this post on luxirare, and became smitten with the idea of pie pops. Little pies on sticks! I think the blog's elegant photos had a lot to do with my interest, but either way I was hooked. It seemed like a fun project for a gathering, and since this year's potluck is later in the season than usual, it seemed like a good fit for summer. I hadn't made pie since junior high cooking class, and I had vague plans to do a trial run earlier in the year. It never happened. So yesterday after work, sink or swim, it was on.

The luxirare blog is lovely, but didn't offer step-by-step instructions. Internet research turned up a helpful instructables article by scoochmaroo and post by bakerella. I wanted to use more than one filling, and chose two that seemed summery to me: the peach filling from scoochmaroo, and the filling for a blueberry pie recipe I found on allrecipes. I seriously considered making my own pie crust, but in the end decided to use store-bought dough. Thank goodness.

As mentioned above, I'm not an efficient baker. I started the project at 5:30, and - including a 30-minute break for dinner and another 30-minute break to accomplish some random tasks later on - I finished at 11:30. Five hours to turn out sixty pie pops. Probably not a speed record.

One of the most time-consuming parts was - sadly - peeling, pitting, and chopping four peaches. It must have taken me the better part of an hour. How is that even possible? The recipe claimed that if I boiled the peaches for five minutes and then transferred them directly to ice water, they would peel easily. This was a lie. I ended up using a vegetable peeler. Also, I am the worst chopper in the world. Partly because I have don't have a good chopping knife, but mostly because I'm just bad at it. Slippery skinned peaches aren't the easiest things to finely chop.

The blueberry filling was relatively simple. The only change I made to the recipe was adding a tablespoon of freshly squeezed lemon juice and increasing the cornstarch as suggested in the comments. I put the fillings in the fridge and ate dinner while I preheated the oven and took out the pie crusts to warm up. Then the assembly line began.

The most time-consuming part of putting the pie pops together was sealing each one with the end of a lollipop stick. Still, I made decent time. The pops baked at 375 for about 15 minutes per sheet, and I was usually almost ready to put the next sheet in the oven when one came out. Each roll of crust made 12-15 pops on the first go-round, and I used two double rolls. I rolled out the remains for the last sheet and got eight more. I could have kept going - I had more crust in the fridge and barely made a dent in my filling - but sixty pops was all I could handle in one evening. I hope I find time to make a pie or two with my remaining ingredients before they go bad. A full-sized pie seems like such a simple task now.

How did they turn out? I'm not sure. They didn't burn. A beaten egg white wash gave them a nice crackly look on top. The blueberry filling leaked in a colorful manner, but the pops all maintained their structural integrity. I only tried one, a peach pop from the first batch. It was tasty, and lot hotter than I expected inside, which led to some undignified open-mouthed hand flapping. The pops have a high crust-to-filling ratio, but I guess that's to be expected with tiny pie.

Once they were cool, I slid each pie pop into a treat bag and fastened it around the stick. About halfway through, I grew paranoid: what if the plastic made the pie taste funny? I was too far along to turn back, though, and the bags themselves had no discernible scent. I'm hoping for the best. I put a color-coded sticker on each bag - not that it isn't obvious which pie is which - and put them all into a box in the fridge. Ready for transport! Please don't let me forget them.

Half of it's you, half is me

2010-08-18T20:32:00.009-05:00

Ever since it was announced live on an internet webcast in early April, I'd been looking forward to Wilco's Solid Sound Festival with a mixture of excitement and dubiousness. What would a multimedia festival curated by Wilco be like? Would everything work out? What if it rained? Would enough people really travel to a small town in western Massachusetts for the weekend? Would too many people come? Would I hate it, like I hate most music festivals?

Last weekend, I got my answers. My three travel companions and I mustered in Albany on Thursday and took the scenic hour's drive to North Adams, arriving in the late afternoon. We parked the car in the Holiday Inn Berkshires lot, and there the car remained until Monday morning. Before long we were out and about, admiring the green hills and abundant church spires in the distance. We ran into a festival-working friend who mentioned the museum grounds were open, so we headed down the street for our first look at MASS MoCA.

We weren't the only people wandering through the museum's outer courtyard that afternoon, but there weren't many. A front page newspaper story on display in the hotel lobby likened the Friday-Sunday festival to a winter storm, advising locals to gather supplies and then remain indoors if possible. In that case, we figured, on Thursday afternoon, we were the flurries.

The museum complex looked promising, and I was itching to explore the brick buildings of this former textile mill and electric factory. MASS MoCA opened about ten years ago, and now houses unique installations of contemporary art. This seemed like a cool setting: so far, so good. And when Jeff, tooling past on a bicycle, stopped to welcome us to the festival - well, it was time to throw my preconceived fest notions out the window for the duration of the weekend.

That's pretty much how the next four days would go. So many friends, artists, bands, and comedians taking up temporary residence in a small town made it feel like summer camp. Surreal, arty, rock and roll summer camp. Summer camp if summer camp had Magic Hat beer and Intelligentsia coffee instead of bug juice; an all-star dunk tank instead of a lake. If arts and crafts consisted of luthiers making guitars and artists silk-screening posters in place of lanyard weaving. If the camp boy-girl dance featured The Numero Group spinning funk and soul for a dancing mass of fans, guests, and talent alike under a giant outdoor movie screen. You know, that kind of summer camp.

On Thursday evening we took a short preview tour of the museum, met the director, explored the poster hall and Pat Sansone's Polaroid exhibit, saw the interactive drum head installation being set up, and decided against taking a trolley for a joyride. On Friday we met more arriving friends, and made our first of many trips to the closest (sneakily Canadian) brunch cafe. We thoroughly toured MASS MoCA, winding through all the exhibits and spaces. We played with Glenn Kotche's drums (with a few tips and tricks from the crew), and watched Nels Cline turn on his Solid Sound Stomp System for its first official session. Nels originally planned five stations instead of two, but there were still more than enough pedals to keep everyone busy. I think I saw a few gear geeks shedding tears of joy.

On Friday evening, Solid Sound began in earnest. After drinks in town (the Baseball Project guys got an early start at the Mohawk), we were ready for the music to begin. Kicking things off right was Pronto, playing to a packed house in the Hunter Center. Post-dinner we caught some of The Books, who were enthralling visually as well as musically. The night ended under the stars with The Numero Group's DJ set. Relaxing on the deck among friends, I thought: okay. I can totally get behind this whole concept.

Saturday, the longest day, was hectic but fun. Things I saw: Tony in the dunk tank, John in the dunk tank, the music of Brenda, the comedy of Hannibal Burress, Glenn nailing a woman (his words) during On Fillmore's set, The Baseball Project, Mavis freakin' Staples, and Wilco. Mavis was amazing, and Wilco played "Laminated Cat" electric with the full band - something I've been wanting to see since Nels joined the band approximately six years ago. Another Numero Group dance party and various shenanigans followed.

Sunday, the last day of the fest, was more low-key. We began the day at a local church's community pancake breakfast. While dishing up sausage and fluffy, delicious pancakes, the volunteers were eager to discuss Solid Sound. They were proud of the festival and enthusiastic about Wilco, though most had never heard of Wilco before the band took over their town. I hope all of us fans served as good ambassadors.

After running into Kristen Schaal in the gift shop and getting Paul's book signed at last, we settled in for our final day of music. The Deep Blue Organ Trio got things going in Courtyard A, and Outrageous Cherry's upbeat set followed in the next courtyard over. We visited the dunk tank, where our star pitcher Rob took down both soundman Stan and Mike Jorgensen - twice. The Nels Cline Singers provided a loud late-afternoon soundtrack in Courtyard C, before the gates opened for Jeff Tweedy's solo (+) performance. As the + in the festival billing hinted, Jeff brought up various guests to play with him that afternoon. We heard "Ingrid Bergman" with Nick Zammuto from The Books, "Look Out For My Love" with Avi Buffalo, and "Tennessee Porch Swing" with Sir Richard Bishop. "Dash 7" with Nels Cline sounded eerie and beautiful as a light drizzle began to fall. "It's Just That Simple" with The Autumn Defense had the crowd singing along with gusto. For the last songs, Jeff brought up the rest of Wilco (minus Glenn) for a six-man acoustic - and a little electric - jam.

In the end, it seemed everything fell into place and the fates smiled on this inaugural run of Solid Sound. Things could have gone badly if the days had been rainy - the indoor spaces weren't really equipped to handle a festival's worth of guests all at once - but the weather remained gorgeous up until Sunday afternoon. By the end of the Jeff's festival-culminating set the rain had arrived, but by then it just felt like a final flourish. I don't think it's too much of a leap to say that most people left North Adams hoping a new summer tradition had been born. To my surprise, I was one of them.

Also see: Solid Sound article and photo slideshow in The New York Times

There's no other show like it 'round here

2010-08-07T22:16:00.000-05:00

Though it was a tough call, The New Pornographers edged out The National in my choice of August 4th concerts. Geography was the major deciding factor: The New Pornographers were coming to me, after all. It was also the night before a big work deadline, and Tamala and Rob were coming to town. As if I needed any further motivation, I was eager to see another show on this tour with Neko Case and Dan Bejar.

The NP's didn't disappoint, delivering an energetic show at the Orpheum. It was hot inside, prompting the installation of a large fan at the front of the stage near the beginning of the night. This was a relief to ... well, Carl Newman, who was pretty much the only person who could feel it. Dan, too, when he took a turn on vocals. The New Pornographers don't vary their setlists as much as some bands, but we heard a couple of songs in Madison that hadn't been played in Milwaukee: "Go Places," and the deep cut from 2003, "July Jones." The latter was a request from Neko, so thanks, Neko! As for the rest of the songs, I was happy to hear them again. I don't think I'll ever tire of singing along to "The Bleeding Heart Show," and there's just something fitting about "The Slow Descent into Alcoholism" being played on State Street.

The Dodos opened the show, as in June, and their vibraphone player returned later in the evening. He first reappeared behind us in the crowd during "Use It," dancing and cheering like a madman, much to the amusement of audience and band. Neko was incapacitated by laughter for part of the song. Later he took a seat on a riser next to the stage and watched closely from his perch, finally joining the band on stage (along with the Dodos' drummer) for "Testament to Youth in Verse." This was one of the Dodos' final shows with the NP's, so it was nice to see the cross-band participation on both ends: Kurt Dahle also came out and drummed on one of the Dodos' songs.

I would have enjoyed the show no matter what, but I have to mention the most amazing thing about the concert for me; something that wasn't even directly related to The New Pornographers. The show was at the Orpheum ... and the stage was low. Every concert I've seen at the Orpheum over the past ten years has featured a seven-foot stage, necessitated by the layout of the balcony. But on Wednesday, the balcony was closed. And the stage was waist-high. If this could happen every night, I'd look forward to Orpheum shows so much more.

After the concert I purchased a show poster, because I didn't have a New Pornographers poster yet. It will join the lovely and extensive collection of posters that lives in the master closet, unframed. Though I'm not sure when I'll see The New Pornographers again, I return to the Orpheum next month. I don't suppose there's much hope that the balcony will be closed for The National, but a girl can dream.

A fresh wind and bright sky

2010-08-03T17:34:00.001-05:00

Sixteen weeks. That's the amount of time between the middle of April (Pennsylvania) and July 30th, when I saw Wilco at Coveleski Stadium in South Bend. It's not a long time at all, considering the schedule of most touring bands. But by my spoiled, semi-local and travel-friendly Wilco schedule, it seemed like long enough.

Coveleski Stadium is a baseball park, and Wilco played a run of minor league ballpark shows last summer. I didn't make it to any of those, so South Bend was my first foray onto the infield turf for a concert. Friday's show was the band's first in the U.S. since that run of aberrant and fantastic shows that comprised the spring "Evening With" tour. This concert was billed as Wilco's last midwest appearance of 2010, and the crowd filed in with high expectations.

First up was Yo La Tengo, who played an enjoyable set slightly marred from our position by muddy sound. They joked that Wilco was headlining and they were opening because Wilco spent the time before the show practicing in the dressing room ... while Yo La Tengo sneaked into the room where the mascot uniforms are kept and took photos of themselves.

Wilco took the stage in the last light of the midsummer night, reminding me of my affection for outdoor shows. Half of the band looked comfortable in t-shirts, which was indicative of the prevailing mood: lots of smiles and casual banter, though the music was very much on the ball. The setting, and intermittent drizzle, afforded plenty of lyrical tie-ins throughout the evening. "Side with the Seeds," with its well-timed line about the park growing dark, left Jeff looking pleased with himself. "Broken Arrow," which I first heard covered by Wilco on a snowy night in February, couldn't have felt more different - and somehow more fitting - under the stars.

Thirty songs were played over two and a half hours, giving South Bend a lengthy and varied performance. Many standards didn't see the light of day (or the moonlight of night), leaving room for other less-played tunes. "Box Full of Letters" and "Can't Stand It" kept the energy up, and "Either Way" remains one of my favorites to hear in the great outdoors. The dangers posed by birds in such a setting were not overlooked by Jeff, who joked after "Say You Miss Me" that he didn't want to meet the same fate King of Leon had earlier in the month. He was quick to point out that Wilco wouldn't leave the stage under similar circumstances. In fact, "we've had roadies crap in our mouths and kept playing!" Thanks for that visual.

For the last encore, Wilco invited Yo La Tengo back to the stage for Big Star's "Thank You Friends." It was an upbeat finale that left the audience wanting more, but by then it was 11:00 p.m. My only South Bend regret was the omission of "Kicking Television," which was on the setlist but not played. We did hear it through the gates during soundcheck, which is better than no song at all.

I spent the rest of the hot, sunny weekend in Chicago. There were delicious meals out (Longman & Eagle, Bongo Room, Kuma's), strolling around the lake and museum campus, more music (Mission of Burma at Wicker Park fest, Algebro at Martyr's), and a lovely patio party at Kristina and Julio's. In just over a week I'm off to the Berkshires, and then there's that little solo show coming up in my friend's basement. I have plenty to look forward to before the next drought begins.

World of Chemistry

2010-07-26T17:04:00.000-05:00

Last week I was sitting in a meeting at work. Everything was progressing as usual when suddenly, unbidden, a tune popped into my brain: "Duh da da da duh-da - baaayyyowwwmmm..." At first, I was confused. My confusion quickly cycled to surprise and then incredulity when I realized it was the theme song from a video series we used to watch in a high school class. Where did it come from? Where had it gone for fifteen years? What combination of factors caused the right synapses to fire that brought it up again?

I have no idea, of course, but I became obsessed with figuring out exactly what the song was. It was from a science class. Early in high school. Lindsey and I used to joke about it. Something about Chemistry? The Wonders of Chemistry? If only I could come up with the title, I knew YouTube wouldn't let me down.

YouTube didn't let me down. The program was World of Chemistry, and it featured everybody's good friend Don Showalter. There was apparently another guy, Roald Hoffmann, but I mostly remember Don. It's crazy to see these videos, and hear the theme song, after having last seen it in the tenth grade. This show ruled. Here are a couple of YouTube samples: first the theme song, and then a montage of Don Showalter getting excited about noble gases and alkali metals.

Oh, Chemistry.

Party in the USA

2010-07-15T18:00:00.001-05:00

Almost exactly a year ago last week, I saw Ed Burch and Viper and his Famous Orchestra play a house show at Hotel S'n'S. Last Friday, I saw another house show featuring Burch and Viper. This one was a release party of sorts (minus some delayed CDs) hosted by a familiar friend and musical collaborator of Edward's in Chicago. Ed was up first, with some songs in honor of Jay Bennett. He played selections from Jay and Ed's old band the Kennett Brothers, a couple off Jay's upcoming release Kicking at the Perfumed Air, a Courtesy Move song, and a lovely version of "Venus Stopped the Train" with full instrumentation and harmonies. Last year's show was very soon after Jay's passing, so it was nice to hear a set this year when things didn't feel so heavy and sad. It felt more like a celebration of Jay's music.

After a break (everyone was encouraged to try scones and watermelon), Viper and His Famous Orchestra came up. In addition to the numerous Wisconsin references in Viper originals, which I always enjoy, plenty of cover songs were sprinkled into the mix. From Miley Cyrus to Michael Jackson, Alex Chilton and Arthur Lee, much singing and dancing took place. There was even a song called "Uncle Bud," verses collected by Zora Neale Hurston. Woven throughout the set was a new song called "Sharkin'," only about forty seconds long at present. The band opened with it, and it was repeatedly requested for the rest of the evening. For good reason!

Sharkin' (#3):

Also last weekend, back home in Madison: Art Fair on the Square and a hilarious Patton Oswalt show at the Majestic. Viva summer!

Chicken on Route 66

2010-07-05T22:17:00.000-05:00

Earlier this year, I stopped on a whim at a Route 66 museum in Illinois. Amidst the ephemera, pictures and postcards from a restaurant called White Fence Farm caught my eye. When Google research indicated it was still open, I vowed to make a trip during the summer. Over the Fourth of July weekend, Heidi and I followed through.

White Fence Farm is located in Romeoville, IL, about a 90-minute drive from Kenosha on the old Route 66. Perfect for a pre-fireworks lunch/dinner expedition. We drove down in the afternoon and arrived about half an hour before the opening time of 4:00 p.m. One of the first things Heidi and I noticed was an impressive old house opposite the sprawling parking lot, across an expanse of lawn. Mentally marking that for later, we killed time with the petting zoo animals (the smart ones were huddled in the shade) and posed with the giant chicken in front of the restaurant. Finally, a little before 4:00, we went inside.

It was apparent that we needn't have wasted time outside. The White Fence Farm buildings don't just house a restaurant, as it turns out, but a lobby full of old games, rides, and antiques. There were collections of Hummel figurines. Fun house mirrors. Fortune telling games. The weirdest claw machines I've ever seen, some containing boxed jewelry and small MP3 players. A display counter full of spats and gaiters. At least ten penny-farthing bicycles hung from the ceiling, and a room full of old cars museum around a corner. I also wanted to try counting the chickens - they're everywhere in the collections and decor, from wall molding to carpet patterns to bathroom drains.

When we'd had our fill of the diversions, it was time to get our fill of fried chicken. The hostess directed us inside to the Carriage Room, one of many dining rooms within White Fence Farm. I don't know how many people the entire place could hold, but it's a huge number. Despite the early time, the room began to fill up as we ate.

The meal was definitely worth a mini road trip. Heidi and I ordered the classic fried chicken dinners, served family style. First came the relishes: cole slaw, pickled beets, corn fritters, cottage cheese, and bean salad. Then a heaping plate of fried chicken was set down in the middle of the table, and we went to town. We finished up with dessert, including creme de menthe ice cream: surprisingly strong and tasty.

I bought a $3 mug, Heidi bought a t-shirt, and we headed out to explore the house across the lot. Heidi asked the girl at the register about it: it is owned by the White Fence Farm people, but nobody is currently living there. The girl said it would be okay if we wanted to go up to it and look around, though I could practically see her thinking, "Um, I just work here..."

The house was great, so I'm glad we were nosy about it. The location is terrible now, but I'm sure once it was an ideal place to build a home. The architecture was vaguely southern plantation, with a few odd additions. There was a corner room with a weather vane, and an enclosed in-ground pool in back. Both structures were open and in disrepair. It's fascinating and creepy to examine the random things left behind in abandoned buildings, even if this house may not qualify as abandoned. The empty pool, with its peeling liner, contained a big chunk of concrete and a lawn chair. In the weather vane room was a table, and on that table were a smaller table and an old plastic rocking horse. It all begged for a story; some kind of narrative to explain how everything fit together. It couldn't be too hard to find out - this is a stone's throw from a bustling restaurant owned by the same family - but even that knowledge couldn't completely dispel the air of mystery.

We drove home in the early evening, having our fill of sunshine and chicken and mystery houses for the day. If anyone wants to take another random day trip this summer, sign me up.

Summerstuff

2010-06-29T21:39:00.000-05:00

In the past week I have...

Attended a Madison Mallards baseball game:

A bunch of coworkers got tickets and tailgated before the game. I hadn't seen a minor league baseball game since the Kenosha Twins existed, and the players used to board with our neighbors over the back fence during the summer, and my older sisters used to scheme ways to get their attention ... anyway. I hadn't seen a minor league game in a long time, and this was fun. And a lot goofier than I remembered. See guy with cape and keytar above. He played a song between innings: winner had to identify song and artist. Also, at Mallards games, anyone who catches a foul ball can turn it in for a free wiener at the concession stand. The Twins definitely didn't do that.

Gone to my first Capitol Farmer's Market of the summer:

Believe it or not, it was my first Saturday morning at home since the outdoor markets began on April 17th. The weather couldn't have been better for my first outing of the season. My haul included fresh raspberries and spicy cheese bread, and I got there early enough to walk around without being slowed to a crawl by the crowds.

Taken part in a surprise birthday party:

I suppose that isn't a summer-specific activity, but it's always fun to get together for a celebration with friends. Bonus points if the night includes karaoke at a bar, where friend Mark sings a Smiths song while the birthday girl does an interpretive dance behind him.

Driven down to Chicago for a free night of music in Millennium Park:

The Cultural Center hosts a series called Downtown Sound, featuring different bands each Monday. Last night's show in the Pritzker Pavilion featured Huntsville and On Fillmore with Nels Cline. Though some of Huntsville's material isn't exactly my thing, I found most of the performances fascinating. It's interesting to watch Nels and Glenn and Darin work with the sheer variety of implements they bring to the stage in this incarnation. Garden weasel wheels playing crotales, battery-powered tripod massagers on a drum head, chirping stuffed birds played through guitar pickups, and something that was possibly bamboo on a rope, twirled in the air like a foxtail. Nels and Glenn joined Huntsville for the last 45 minutes of their set, and you know when there are two drum kits being employed, I'm happy.

Ask Google

2010-06-22T21:39:00.000-05:00

I did this once a long time ago, but thought it might be fun to try again. Here's the deal: I chose ten questions to pose to the mighty Google search engine. I typed in each question as it's written below, no quotation marks. The answer to the first question [she decided] was the first sentence of the first result summary. The answer to the second question was the first sentence of the second result summary. And so on. The answers ranged from blunt (see Q1) to depressing (Q2) to cryptic (Q6) but all were mildly entertaining! Emphasis on mildly. Forgive me, it's a slow week. I'm enjoying it. Minor league baseball on Thursday!

Q: Should I see The National in Milwaukee or The New Pornographers in Madison in August?

A: The New Pornographers and the Dodos.

Q: Will I ever visit Antarctica?

A: While you're here in Antarctica treat every iceberg you see as if it were your last, because there will probably never be another iceberg.

Q: Will this be the year I actually begin a quilt?

A: Do not bring your fourteen-year-old son with you to the fabric store to help pick out fabric.

Q: Why don't restaurants in other countries just ask a native speaker to proofread their English menus?

A: As a very picky native speaker of English ... Can I ask about "cat's tongue"?

Q: Does anyone look better than Jon Hamm in a suit?

A: John Hamm: Wow. I don't know.

Q: This coming weekend: good?

A: If you're not doing so already, you can follow The Weekend Warrior on Twitter.

Q: Will the Brewers win the World Series this year?

A: If the Brewers are going to win a World Series with this batch of players, patience will be the key.

Q: How did Google get so smart?

A: I did not aspire to this lofty post, nor did I actively seek it on any level.

Q: Will I get to go to Brazil or Dubai for work?

A: As usual we will go on vacation to our sailboat in Greece.

Q: What book should I read next?

A: Something that is Vampire Free.

Tonight will be an open mic

2010-06-14T17:01:00.001-05:00

Maybe it wasn't quite an open mic, but Saturday's New Pornographers/Dodos/Duchess and the Duke show in Milwaukee featured plenty of folks taking turns on vocals. Between the three bands, there were more lead vocalists than I've seen at one non-variety show, possibly ever. Despite my initial "I'm too old for this" grumpiness about multiple openers, I can't complain.

According to my sources in Chicago, The Duchess and the Duke were coming off a big night of drinking and performing at the Empty Bottle. Perhaps that's why they winced in pain when the spotlights came on. They requested the lights be dimmed, and then toward the end of the set, requested twice more that they be turned down. After that last request (which was just before the last song), the lighting guy turned the spotlight off entirely. Ha! Their finale of "I Am Just a Ghost" ended with everyone on stage singing the lyric a capella, over and over. I'm not sure how long they planned to continue, but the end came definitively when someone accidentally kicked over a microphone and the Pabst erupted in cheers.

The second openers, The Dodos, were very percussiony. That happens to be the quickest path to my heart upon first listen to any band, especially live. The drummer attached a tambourine to his foot via duct tape straps, and there was a vibraphone player who also had a drum kit. Two drum kits! What more could I ask for? Well...

The New Pornographers opened with "Sing Me Spanish Techno." Talk about setting the energy bar as high as possible. They were more than up to the challenge for the rest of night, and I think the crowd was too. It turns out Carl Newman loves both of the opening bands. "I'm not usually one for watching bands. I hate music. But I had to watch those guys." He also loves the Pabst, claiming he wants to change the vote he gave in a Pitchfork interview for best venue. Sure, he probably tells that to all the cities.

I have to consider the possibility that my slightly negative impression of the last NP's show I saw in Madison might have been due to the simple fact that it was my first NP's show without Dan Bejar, after having finally seen them with Dan in 2007. The wealth of talented individuals The New Pornos bring to the mix (including a cellist/saxophonist for a grand total of nine people in Milwaukee) notwithstanding, there's something magnetic about Dan Bejar. Whenever he took the stage, cheers of "DAN!" - mostly masculine - could be heard from the audience. The loafers and white pants (a look I somehow simultaneously associate with Europe and boating), the back-to-the-crowd guitar stance, the omnipresent glass of wine or beer bottle, the flourish of a bow before a quick exit after singing a song, the distinctive voice and inscrutable lyrics, the perpetual air of nonchalance ... all part of the package. I'd love to see Destroyer sometime.

Neko Case was in excellent voice as well. Though Kathryn Calder can more than hold her own vocally - and did on such songs as "Adventures in Solitude" - Neko's presence in the lineup shouldn't be underestimated. (And never seems to be, judging from reviews.) My favorite of her performances Saturday night was the powerful "My Shepherd." During the show, I realized I was standing in nearly the same spot I sat when Neko joined Jakob Dylan at the Pabst in April. Neko probably thinks she has a Milwaukee stalker now. Of course, it's possible that she does. While John Collins worked out a tuning issue, Carl announced he would take questions from the audience. Someone: "I LOVE NEKO!" Carl: "Could you phrase that in the form of a question? 'Why do I love Neko so much?'" Carl suggested it was because Neko makes dog cookies that are almost good enough for people to eat. Neko said actually, that wasn't her.

The questions continued: what does Dan do when he's not on stage? They didn't know for sure. Both Neko and Carl said they could guess, and put money on the fact that he was drinking beer or wine. At this juncture, Dan appeared on stage with a bottle of beer. He wandered over to Carl, conferred, and headed off again. Carl joked about his mysterious manner. "He just said something about an apothecary." Next question: what happened when your bus broke down? Carl: "Really? That's news? Since I slept through it, I'm going to say that ... the bus broke down, and it got fixed."

Dan's duo of Jackie songs - "Jackie" and "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras" - was fun to hear in the same show. Toward the middle of the set, Dan came out for a vocal turn. Carl demanded to know where Dan got his Spotted Cow, and whether he had a stash. Carl requested the bottle, which was handed over. He said this was all about giving; a good intro to the next song. Dan looked at him. "Isn't this 'Spirit of Giving?'" Carl asked. "I'm not holding a guitar..." Dan replied, grinning. "Oh, right. Never mind." Carl told Dan to get another beer, because it was too weird for him to be on stage without. Dan grabbed a PBR tallboy from the stash near the drum kit. He opened it, took a sip, and grimaced elegantly. Then began the song.

At one point, Carl impulsively asked for audience requests and then proceeded to shoot them all down. "I hope someone happens to request something we actually want to play," he explained. I called out for "Breakin' the Law," but it got lost in the shouting. Or ignored. Someday ... someday.

I'm now even more torn between my choices for August 4th: stay in town and see The New Pornographers again at the Orpheum, or trek back to Milwaukee for The National? Time will tell.

Printed setlist is accurate, except they didn't play "The Body Says No"

Many things about Africa

2010-06-03T20:15:00.003-05:00

There was so much I didn't know about Dakar, or Senegal, or Africa, before my trip. My head is full of new information - mostly thanks to Susanna, our hostess and resident guide. She spent six months in Dakar in the midst of three years in Guinea, though her presence in Senegal was unplanned. Susanna does research with speakers of Pular, but was evacuated last October due to unrest in the Guinean capital. She wound up with a furlough in Dakar, which came to an end during our visit. Susanna left for her old village in Guinea on the same day Lindsey and I flew back home. Our hello to Senegal was Susanna's goodbye, and the combination gave this trip a unique flavor. Here are some of the things I now know about Senegal.

Senegal is mostly Muslim, which meant that the calls to prayer from muezzins around the city were part of our daily soundtrack.

Sidewalks in Dakar are not really for walking. They're for sitting, lying down, and selling things. Walking, maybe, when there's room. There is sand and dirt and dust covering most streets and alleys in Dakar. Part of it was the season - it's the end of the dry season in Senegal - and part must be the proximity to the ocean. I suppose the rest is simply lack of infrastructure for street cleaning. It's not a priority.

People in Senegal don't have a lot of money, in general, but can still make much more money in Dakar than they could in a village in, say, Guinea. We met many Pular-speaking Guineans, friends of Susanna's, who are living in Dakar but planning a return to Guinea at some point. Many have wives and children still in Guinea, and are sending them money.

It's incredibly difficult to get a U.S. visa from Senegal or Guinea, especially to emigrate. A fee of $800 is due before your application is even considered, and if an emigration visa is not granted, you can never get a visitor's visa. The government knows you once wanted to move to the U.S., so what's to say you wouldn't stay? I feel guilty about my ability to waltz in and out of Senegal without any visa, while so many people I met can only dream of visiting the U.S. someday.

In downtown Dakar, and in Saint-Louis, a white person (toubab) is continually accosted walking down the street. Mostly it's people trying to sell goods, but sometimes it's men who want to talk (or get married), men touting their services as a guide or taxi obtainer (that was mostly Saint-Louis), or children simply begging. This is understandable, but tiring. French is the language of education in Senegal, so everyone speaks some French. I don't. This worked to my advantage on the streets, because I didn't understand most of what the people were saying. That made it much easier to reply with the standard "Non, merci," and keep walking without distraction. On Ile de Gorée, the salespeople were more enterprising and knew a bit of English. Because we actually wanted to buy stuff in Gorée, this was fine too.

Not speaking French or Pular wasn't so handy when meeting Susanna's local friends, but she's a good translator. Most of the people Susanna knows well in Dakar are Pular speakers from Guinea, who also know some French. The majority of Senegalese in Dakar speak Wolof as their first language, although some (like Gorgui) speak Serere. There's also a Senegalese version of Pular, but according to Susanna it's very different from Guinean Pular, and she doesn't understand much of it. Susanna's friends, particularly those we spent the most time with, had questions for us. Sometimes it was "which one of you will stay in Senegal and be my wife?" but sometimes they were questions about our lives. Where do we live? What are our jobs? (Mine was particularly fun for Susanna to try to explain.) Is the U.S. better than Africa? Why do toubabs never give money to beggars?

I learned to be more flexible about creature comforts and hygiene standards. You can't brush all the flies away from your food all the time. If there's no running water, you can't wash your hands (or flush the toilet) every time you might want to. If someone has cooked food for you in their home, you will eat it, even if you're pretty sure the vegetables were rinsed in tap water, or it's been sitting out for awhile, or the drinks have ice cubes. You'll eat peanuts roasted over hot coals in their shells, mixed with sand from the road to heat evenly.

If you're walking through acres of fish-smoking tables on the sandbar in Saint-Louis, led by a local resident among fish and fires and goats and children, you can't be too concerned about what your sandal-clad feet are walking through. If Susanna's friend Mamadou prepares the traditional three-round Senegalese attaya for you and five other guests in the small room where he lives behind his shop, as you all sit on a bed and small wooden bench with knees touching because that's all the room there is, then you will drink the tea and be thankful for the warm hospitality he's showing you; it doesn't matter if the water isn't boiled for the standardly-recommended 15 minutes, or that there are only two small cups that everyone is sharing. And you'll be all the better for this. (Somewhat miraculously, I was not afflicted with any stomach issues during the trip.)

We ate poulet or poisson yassa; a lemony, garlicky rice with onions and spices and either fish or chicken. There was also the standard ceebu jen; rice and fish. (A waitress in Saint-Louis gave Susanna an incredulous look when she ordered ceebu jen without jen for Lindsey the vegetarian: rice and fish without the fish.) We drank local juices like bissap, made from hibiscus leaves (best with mint), and bouye, from the fruit of the baobab tree. Vendors sold little bags of both water and bissap, which people drink by biting the corner. Bags of bissap also make popular popsicles for kids: freeze them, have the child gnaw into a corner, and suck as the popsicle melts. Gorgui's little boy Babou was working on one of those when we visited his village. Not so traditional, but also delicious, were widely-available crêpes (sucre, beurre, citron) and pastries. The pain au chocolate was good, but Lindsey and I became addicted to beignets à la crème, which seemed to be available in every patisserie. French Colonialism does have a tasty upside.

It's easier to get a cab at a moment's notice in Dakar than anywhere else I've ever been. It doesn't hurt that toubabs are like catnip for cabbies. Fares are negotiated before the ride, and Susanna often employed the standard "walking away now" routine before a driver coasted forward and agreed to her price. Even their first offers are cheap by American standards, but locals would pay less than half that for the same ride. The cabs themselves, with a few exceptions, are also in worse shape than any I've seen still running anywhere else. Except maybe a brief foray into Mexico in 2006. Often there are no door handles inside, sometimes the doors themselves are about to fall off, there are usually wires sticking out below the steering wheel. The window crank handles were missing more often than not. The handle is known as the clef de fênetre, or window key, and one is often shared between all the car windows.

There are other transportation options besides standard cabs in Senegal. The big blue city bus with standard routes is the Dem Dikk. There are also smaller local buses; really, large vans. They're brightly decorated, always full, and usually have one or two men hanging off the back from open doors. Anyone can ride, but you must know where they're going, and they don't always follow a standard route. For travel between cities, there is the sept-place. Sept-places leave from a transit depot, always teeming with vendors. You arrive at the depot, and are led to the nearest car departing for your destination. These are typically old Peugeot station wagons. They seat one in front, three in the middle, and three in the back, plus the driver. You don't want to sit in the back of a sept-place. Once the car has seven passengers, it will leave. If you're not going to a popular location, either be prepared to wait awhile in the car or pay the driver extra to leave with fewer passengers. We thought the sept-place was crowded, but Susanna told us that the same system exists in Guinea ... only in Guinea, it's a neuf-place. Two passengers in front plus the driver, four in the middle, and three in the back. Plus children and animals. We took sept-places from Dakar to Saint-Louis, from Saint-Louis to Thiès (pronounced "chess"), and Thiès to Mbour.

Sheep and goats are everywhere in Senegal, and baby goats are universally adorable. We saw many cows and horses, and lots of crazy birds in the Siné-Saloum Delta. A few giant cockroaches.

The buildings in Saint-Louis and Ile de Gorée are brightly painted, and their various states of disrepair manage to look artful and intentional, though clearly they are not. We ate dinner at a crêperie in Saint-Louis across the street from the only building we saw with air conditioning units ... the morgue.

A jewelry seller named Elisabeth on Gorée gave Lindsey, Susanna and me our pick of free necklaces after learning Susanna has a sister named Elizabeth.

Senegalese women carry babies wrapped against their backs.

Acacia trees have big thorns.

Palm oil is bright red.

I'd like to go back to Africa someday.

Le village de Gorgui

2010-05-29T21:00:00.000-05:00

I am in Senegal. I've been here for nearly a week, and will be here until Monday night, when Lindsey and I go home via Madrid. I'll have much more to say when I get home, but I thought I'd mention one of the things we did on Thursday. We were down in the Siné-Saloum delta, asking around our lodge for a place to eat lunch. Most guests choose to eat all their meals at the hotel restaurant, but we wanted to change it up. Palmarin was too far to walk, as it turned out. But one of the employees, Gorgui, suggested that it was possible to walk to the nearby village where he lived. He would be working at the hotel, but if we desired, he could arrange for someone to show us around and serve us lunch. We enthusiastically agreed.

The next day we set out down a clay road, past salt flats and goats. The hotel dog, Tite, chose to accompany us. We walked about thirty minutes until we saw a village. A man was waiting for us near the road: Lamine, Gorgui's older brother. We met much of Gorgui's extended family, including his adorable baby Babou and his wife Maimouna. They mostly spoke Serere at home, but everyone was well-educated and conversant in French. We were taken on a tour of the village and a walk to the ocean. We drank ice cold Fanta and Africa Cola in a shady room off the main porch. Maimouna served a delicious two-course lunch on huge communal platters. We were given spoons, but Lamine, Seleh, and Maimouna rolled the rice, fish, and vegetables into small balls with their hands and ate much more efficiently. After looking over the two family photo albums and giving Maimouna a small token of our appreciation, we walked back to our hut on the delta, accompanied by Tite. Not the typical Thursday schedule for me back in Wisconsin.

I'm with Coco

2010-05-21T17:46:00.001-05:00

Back in Chicago so soon? Why, yes! On Thursday night, Sam and I had a date with Conan O'Brien. We caught the second night of Conan's "Legally Prohibited From Being Funny on Television" tour stop at the Chicago Theatre, and it was well worth the drive on a school night.

I've seen Conan live twice before. The first time during the week of Late Night shows he did at the Chicago Theatre in 2006, a run he mentioned more than once Thursday night. In 2006, Conan brought pizza out to us in line, and his guests included Barack Obama. The second time was a taping in L.A. during Conan's brief Tonight Show tenure. I didn't blog about that at the time, but it was awesome. Amazing seats, an encounter with Max (which sounds dirty but wasn't), a donkey, a python, an elephant, Wilco in Nudie suits (again, not dirty). And of course, Andy and Conan being hilarious.

This third time showcased another incarnation of Conan the performer. It felt like Conan's TV show, except with more music, a more personal focus, and a lot more swearing. The sense of fun was still palpable, and Conan did his best to make a connection with the audience: by running through the aisles, by inviting a Conan lookalike up on stage in one of my favorite unscripted moments of the night, by urging us to collaborate with him on song lyrics via a lobby suggestion box held by a life-sized cutout of Conrad Bain. The night contained a bit of everything, and it was clear that Conan was doing what Conan wanted to do. The image of him relaxed and grinning on stage, guitar in hand, jamming to "Seven Nation Army" while wearing Eddie Murphy's purple suit from "Raw" is one that will stay with me for awhile. (It's possible he wasn't wearing that suit during that particular song, but nevertheless ... the image is there.)

Tomorrow, I'll be in Chicago again. Leaving for Africa.

Fred, Jeff, and Jeff

2010-05-18T17:16:00.000-05:00

I've again reached a schedule status of "if I don't write this now I will never make time for it," expected to be in effect for the next three weeks. Between now mid-June posts might be anemic, but it's better than me forgetting everything!

After that tantalizing intro: on Sunday night I saw Jeff Garlin, Fred Armisen, and Jeff Tweedy at a benefit for Emanuel Congregation. Last year's event also featured music and comedy, but this year the comedy component was more prominent. I knew of Jeff Garlin going in, but wasn't familiar with his work. It was a nice surprise that his participation (added after the benefit was announced) was a highlight for me. Jeff Garlin is a funny man. Between inappropriate airport stories, tales of the national anthem at Wrigley Field, and many Q&A answers (whether the Q was directed to him or not), I spent most of my time laughing when he was on the bimah.

Fred Armisen did many impressions: drummers by request (including Keith Moon, Glenn Kotche, Neil Peart), guitar players (Prince, John Lennon, Nels Cline), and then anyone at all (Jon Hamm, Barack Obama, Bjork) ... even some audience members (Magee!). Seeing Fred play drums was a treat, and he accompanied Jeff Tweedy on performances of "Heavy Metal Drummer" and "Theologians." Jeff Tweedy's responsibilities Sunday evening were relatively light: four and a half songs (if you count the Waffle House song), a few impression assists, and the night-ending Q&A. It was fun to see him (and of course Susan played a huge part in organizing this event, as usual) but it was nice to see the spotlight on the comedians. A true variety show!

Eating NYC

2010-05-11T21:51:00.002-05:00

What do you do after working two overnight shifts in New Jersey, finishing at 6:30 a.m. Friday? You sleep for a couple of hours, get on a train, and head to New York City. Why go back home when a glorious three-day weekend beckons?

I had a jam-packed and thoroughly excellent time in the city. Allison was kind enough to serve as my hostess. Via her recommendations, suggestions from other friends, and a little solo scouting, we crafted an ambitious plan of attack. I've spent some time in NYC before, so I wanted to dig a little deeper. Or, at least, make a slightly deeper scratch on the surface of all the city has to offer.

Our schedule included too many activities to cover here: lots of walking, exploring various neighborhoods in Brooklyn and Manhattan, street fairs, flea markets, a farmers' market, Prospect Park, a marching band performance, two terrific Martin Rivas shows at the Red Lion and Rockwood, The High Line, the fantastic Whitney Museum for the 2010 biennial. But there was one thing our weekend really focused upon. And that, my friends, was food.

The centerpiece of the weekend's eating was an amazing dinner at Restaurant Daniel on Saturday night with Allison, Mart, Patti, and Paul. Can I even pick out highlights? The sautéed foie gras of my appetizer was rich, melty, light (yes, light!) and bursting with flavor. The red wine braised short rib on celery root purée was a revelation. When our waiters brought out warm, freshly baked madeleines toward the end of the meal, I nearly begged for mercy.

Daniel was incredible, but it wasn't the only highlight. I am proud to present to you this list of places (or vendors) from which, over three full days in the city, I managed to either eat, drink, or buy something:

Porchetta
Sundaes and Cones
Luke's Lobster
The Red Lion
Café Angelique
Brooklyn Greenmarket
Gorilla Coffee
people's pops
Billy's Bakery
Restaurant Daniel
Buttermilk Channel
Roebling Tea Room
Zocalo

It was a successful trip, to say the least. This only leaves a thousand or so places on our "want to go" list for my future visits!

The best thing

2010-05-04T17:20:00.001-05:00

On Saturday, my friends Gina and Ryan got married in Chicago.

I was one of Gina's bridesmaids, along with her sister and maid of honor, Andrea. It feels like I've been planning a long time for this, so I can imagine how it felt for the bride and groom. The entire weekend seemed to pass in a happy blur.

Friday was the rehearsal, dinner at Gibson's, and drinks at LuxBar. Saturday, the pre-ceremony hair, dress, and makeup preparations took place in my room (with refreshments provided by Andrea and Gina's mother.) Ryan and Gina were married in the gorgeous Bond Chapel at the University of Chicago. Afterward we took many photos on the university grounds and elsewhere around the city. The somewhat officious limo driver furnished two DVDs for our riding entertainment: ABBA Number Ones, and 1980's Kylie Minogue. Awesome. The reception followed at the Newberry Library. I'd never been before, but loved the overall atmosphere of the building. All the details made it a great night: lovely flowers, delicious hors d'oeuvres and dinner, cake both beautiful and tasty, excellent DJ, and a bunch of people who were ready to celebrate. Special kudos to Gina for booking the Chicago Cubs Dixieland Band for the lobby cocktail hour. A traditional hotel afterparty followed the reception. Finally, there was a big Sunday brunch with family and friends. Everything went wonderfully, but I felt like I drove down to Chicago and met Ryan and Gina Friday afternoon, blinked, and found myself in the Maggiano's dining room full of frittata and banana french toast. Not a bad place to end up if you're going to lose time, I have to say.

Gina and I have known each other since high school, and have been close friends for nearly a decade. Being part of her wedding, culminating in this big weekend, meant a lot to me. Seeing her and Ryan so happy together means even more. Right now they're in Kauai, probably drinking mai tais or frolicking in a waterfall or something. Seems like a pretty good start to me.

Singin' songs I knew

2010-04-29T21:21:00.001-05:00

If I don't write about this now I'll never get to it, so: I saw Jakob Dylan and Three Legs last night at the Pabst! I confess that I bought a ticket to this show for two main reasons: first, Jakob Dylan is touring with Neko Case and Kelly Hogan, whom I like very much. Secondly, in high school I had a bit of a crush on Jakob Dylan.

Even if these weren't the soundest of reasons to attend a weeknight show in Milwaukee, I enjoyed myself. Guitar player Paul Rigby and Jon Rauhouse on pedal steel were major reasons for that. Jakob Dylan has really assembled an excellent band. Most of the songs played were from Jakob's latest album Women and Country, but there were some selections from his previous solo album and two from Bringing Down the Horse ... a record I remember fondly from 1996. It was a trip to hear "6th Avenue Heartache" live, with Kelly Hogan and Neko Case singing backup. Neko and Jakob had a lot of fun singing together on "All Day and All Night," complete with some graphic hand gestures from Neko. Kelly got a great response from the crowd for her lead verse of "Three Marlenas." I'm glad I made the trip to Milwaukee - after all, what would I have done at home instead? Packed for the wedding weekend instead of doing so right now? (Eeep!)

The List

2010-04-28T17:15:00.002-05:00

I'm always referring to The List, as in The List of Places I Want to Go Someday (Preferably Soon). "Oh sure, that's on The List." The thing is, there never was any list. I had destinations in my head, but nothing keeping track of them ... until the other day, when I decided to make a first pass at creating The List in written form. Here's what I came up with. Destinations are roughly in order of how much I want to go, at least the first half. The second half devolves into "Now that you bring it up, I would like to go there." I'd appreciate any feedback. Are there glaring omissions? Specific recommendations? Cautionary tales? Lord knows I love to plan ahead.

The List

Greece

Maine

Nashville (Ryman Auditorium)
Louisiana (New Orleans)
Singapore

South America (esp. Chile, Argentina, Patagonia)

Scotland
Amalfi Coast
Japan
France (Paris)

Carribbean (somewhere)

Vancouver

South Africa

Bavaria

Extensive Route 66 road trip

Wyoming
Montana (Yellowstone)
Mississippi *
Omaha or Lincoln **

North Dakota ***

South Dakota ***

Shetland Islands

Nepal or Bhutan (Himalayas) ****

Morocco
Madagascar

UAE or Qatar

Thailand
Vietnam
Cook Islands or French Polynesia
Norway
Finland
Iceland

Switzerland (Alps)

Egypt

Northern Ireland

* I've driven through and stopped, but feel I haven't really experienced Mississippi
** I haven't seen much of Nebraska
*** Sort of obligations to round out the 50. Sorry, Dakotas! I'm sure you're great!
**** Bhutan has extensive tourism rules, which makes me want to find a way around them

Week in review

2010-04-20T23:29:00.001-05:00

Last week, that is. I returned from Pennsylvania on Monday.

Tuesday:
Picked up bridesmaid dress from the seamstress. Then, David Sedaris at the Overture Center. I enjoyed myself right from the opening selection, a preview from his upcoming book of fables. Or, as David said, not fables - since fables have morals. He also read a story I'd seen last year in The New Yorker, "Laugh, Kookaburra." I liked it at the time, but hearing him read stories brings them to a whole new place. There were more anecdotes and stories, a brief mention of genocide in Rwanda (so that some college kids who attended could get credit for the talk) and a book recommendation: Irish Girl by Tim Johnston. David mentioned that the title story had been included in a compilation he edited some years ago. Proceeds from the book went toward ... toward ... "It was for fucked up kids. I don't remember what was wrong with them. I did it so I would seem generous." I love you, David Sedaris.

Wednesday:
Wisconsin Film Festival! I saw The Exploding Girl at the Chazen Museum. I liked the movie, though it moved very, very slowly and not much happened. The lead actress reminded me of a young Kristen Schaal, though her character was nothing like Kristen Schaal. I thought the film did a surprisingly good job of building a tense, suspenseful mood throughout what was actually a not-too-suspenseful plot.

Thursday:

Wisconsin Film Festival official opening night. Some friends and I saw The Topp Twins: Untouchable Girls at the Orpheum. Lynda and Jools Topp are lesbian twins who have a successful comedy and music act in New Zealand. The documentary was top-notch. I was completely unfamiliar with the Topp Twins beforehand, but I came away with a great sense of their personalities, their history, and social and political issues in New Zealand. It was both entertaining (I think my favorite Topp Twins characters are Camp Mother and Camp Director) and unexpectedly touching. Director Leanne Pooley answered questions after the film, and said that Jools and Lynda will be performing in San Francisco when the film screens there this year. I'll continue to dream of them playing our local county fair.

Friday:
Harmony and Me at the Union Theater. A comedy set in Austin about a young, quirky, recently-broken-up, sometime-musician guy with oddball friends and family. Much of the movie was improvised, and as a veteran of seven 24-hour improv benefits since 2003, I could tell. In a good way, mostly. The film was very funny in many places, although as you might imagine from the description, it was also a little ... overly self-aware ... at times. Regardless, I enjoyed it. The director, Robert Byington, came out for a Q&A session afterward. Byington also played Harmony's older brother in the film - one of my favorite characters. It was a nice ending to my 2010 film festival experience.

Saturday:
Gina's bachelorette party in Chicago! I checked into our kick-ass suite at the Dana Hotel and Spa before my facial. It was a actually more than just a facial (that sounds dirty) - there was also a massage involved, and lots of heavenly scents and creams and aromatherapy. The only part I didn't enjoy was when the esthetician did the "extraction of impurities," at which point I swear to god she started beating me up. Maybe not quite, but holy crap! My nose! Was not expecting that! Anyway. Overall, it was great. I want to live at a spa. Or at least get treatments for an entire weekend sometime. Which would cost seventy-eight bajillion dollars, but might be worth it. While the others got their spa treatments, I had enough time to Brown Line it over to Laurie's Planet of Sound to celebrate Record Store Day with Sam and co. I picked up a CD, and - find of finds - spotted the book David Sedaris edited for fucked up kids in a used book box! Score. As a bonus, I heard ten minutes of DJ Pat Sansone spinning some sweet tunes before heading back to the Dana. Drinks with the ladies at the hotel bar, dinner at Nacional 27, liquor store, back to the suite. Mindful of lessons learned last summer at the hands of Europeans and patxaran, I suffered no ill effects from drinking. It was just a really fun night. Hooray for Gina's waning days as a bachelorette!

Sunday:
A short, brisk morning walk made me realize that I could live in a high-rise on State and Erie in downtown Chicago and be perfectly happy for a long time. Sunny, early spring days obviously strengthen that impression, but really. The area is bustling with activity, grocery stores and restaurants and shops everywhere, close to the CTA, view of the lake. Quiet on the twenty-third floor. And I could take public transport to parks or the 'burbs if I wanted, right? So when I come into a ton of money, it's settled: I'm moving into the spa at the Dana. Brunch was at Cuatro in the South Loop (shared coconut milk pancakes! chilaquiles!) and afterward it was time to head back home. I can't wait to see everyone again at the wedding in less than two weeks OH MY GOD.

Same old thing we did last week

2010-04-15T07:13:00.000-05:00

This entry began as a place holder for a more extensive account of my "Evening with Wilco" weekend finale in Pennsylvania. Three quarters of the way through a very busy week, I have to acknowledge that a formal narrative just isn't in the cards. Here, then, are various facts about my weekend in bite-sized chunks. Bullet points: the lazy blogger's best friend.

The weather last weekend was gorgeous. A bit nippy in the shade in Philly, but that worked itself out by the end of the day. I love how much further along they are with spring out there. As you can see from the picture above, cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

Heather and Russ took us to Reading Terminal Market in the early afternoon. So much to see! Such a long line for the ladies' room! It reminded me fondly of other indoor markets I've visited over the years. After gawking at the cake and candy counters after lunch, members of our party bought some amazing cookies for future snacking. A wise choice.

Tamala and I toured the house where Edgar Allen Poe lived in Philadelphia, which was a short walk from the Electric Factory. Our guide was very nice, but seemed to believe she knew Poe personally (and called him "Eggert.") Perhaps she doesn't actually work there at all, but shows up on weekends in a homemade uniform to give tours. I bought a Poe-stcard on the way out, passing up Poe-sters and books of Poe-try. (I know. I had a million of them. Be grateful you weren't there.)

We returned to the Electric Factory just in time to hear (from outside, but very clearly) a soundcheck full of cover songs. They weren't being checked for any particular purpose, but even hearing the whole band play them through thin walls was good enough for me. "A Fool Such As I," "The Losing End," "So Much Wine," "Thirteen." Lap steel. Sigh.

Another crazy long show in Philly. The band ended with a Mike-laptop "rave" version of "I'm A Wheel," and if you count that, thirty-nine songs. Hot damn. I happened to be looking back at a setlist from a few years ago, and they'd played about twenty songs. Oh yes. Officially spoiled for all time now.

Because I see a lot of Wilco, I'm uncomfortable requesting songs unless specifically asked. This means I don't make much use of the show-specific "request" feature on the band's website. I've done it on occasion, but not more than once for a particular show, and then only rarely. The odds are good I'll someday hear whatever it is I'm looking for, so I figure I shouldn't mess with anyone else's chance to hear a song they want. That being said, I did request "That's Not the Issue" for the first Montclair show. It wasn't played that night, but showed up a week later in Hartford. Luckily for me, they played it one more time in Philly! Long live the banjo!

At some point Saturday night, I tried a sip of Tamala's Wilco Tango Foxtrot (WTF) beer. Still not a beer fan. Good to know. I think Paul also wore a bull mask, but that could be the WTF talking.

There was 2:00 a.m. cheesesteak.

Sunday morning, off to Pittsburgh. We drove right through Amish country. Almost stopped for shoofly pie, but thought better of it. (Are you sensing a food theme here? That's because on our trips, there almost always is a food theme.)

I've been to Pittsburgh a couple times before, but never to the Pitt campus area. I liked it very much. It had more of an open, big-city feel than even the larger midwestern campuses I'm used to. Everything seemed more substantial; more "real." Museums, halls, parks, statues. Outdoor dim sum/sushi/bubble tea pavilions. There was also a carnival underway on Bigelow. We narrowly missed an outdoor show by Jack's Mannequin! We did see about twenty students wearing Jack's Mannequin shirts, though.

Met up with hometown boy Kris and his friend before the show, and learned more about comics than I knew before. Which was nothing.

Carnegie Music Hall was much older and more ornate, and much smaller, than I'd been imagining. It was beautiful inside, and we had a good view from the seventh row, but the show felt different from the previous general admission blowouts. People alternated between sitting and standing, and didn't move much even when on their feet. Happily, the sound quality made up for any weirdness in atmosphere. Hearing every note clearly made the band playing "More Like the Moon" again that much sweeter. The harmonies in "When You Wake Up Feeling Old" sounded excellent, too.

I'd been planning all week to eat the hell out of a Primanti Brothers sandwich in Pittsburgh on Sunday, but we made the mistake of putting it off until after the show. When we walked in, they announced they'd just sold their last two sandwiches. Damn it! Never fear; I got my quota of late-night crap food anyway: a superdog (with bacon and American cheese) and a mess of fries at The "O." One of these days, Primanti Brothers. One of these days.

I won't be seeing any more Wilco shows before August, so it was nice to get my fill of these "Evening With" concerts while I had the chance. For now, it's on to other things. I'm currently in the midst of a do-something-downtown-every-night week, which is fun but messes with stuff like laundry and grocery shopping and trying on my bridesmaid dress with various shoe pairings. And packing ... this weekend, Chicago.

Thank you friends

2010-04-06T23:02:00.001-05:00

I took an Easter trip to New Jersey and Rhode Island this past weekend to see Wilco. If you can believe it, I almost volunteered to work instead. I could've spent the holiday weekend in a Dakota (both on my list of states I've never visited) and taken some recovery time afterward. But as I struggled to figure out a way to make it all work, I realized: what was I, crazy? I already had two business trips scheduled. I was really going to forego rock tourism to do a third in one month? Nope. Besides, I'd never been to Rhode Island, either.

Trust me, it was a great decision.

If you read this blog with any frequency, you may be aware that I see a lot of Wilco shows. When the band announced an "Evening with Wilco" tour for March and April, the press promised extended sets spanning all of the band's releases. Still, I was skeptical that the shows would be markedly different from those I'm used to. No opening band is a sweet perk, but I've seen the band without an opener. Those shows are typically longer, and often contain surprises, but I wouldn't say they're a different experience.

In order to conserve vacation time, I limited the scope to open weekend dates on my calendar. New Jersey/Providence (three shows) and Philadelphia/Pittsburgh (two shows) were the contenders. On one hand, a tidy weekend in Pennsylvania. On the other hand, back-to-back shows in Montclair and my inaugural visit to RI. All the while, there was the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that these shows truly might be unique. Obviously, Wilco's "normal" show is incentive enough for me to take a trip. But if these turned out to be different, I'd kick myself later - hard - for failing to maximize my opportunities. So, both, then. Two weekend trips, in the middle three months already full to bursting with plans.

Trust me, it was a great decision.

Over the two nights in Montclair, Wilco played 60 different songs. Plus fifteen repeats. Then another 36-song set in Providence, adding four new ones to the tally (five if you count Mike's "Easter Bunny" synth number) for a grand total of 111 songs performed over three nights. Over nine hours of music.

When it comes to Wilco, I don't think I've felt quite so giddy as I did that first night in Montclair since the residency. It was that sense of having no idea would come next. Each show included a stripped-down, intimate set on mostly acoustic instruments, played at the front of the stage. (This arrangement is expertly set up and broken down without interrupting the music.) The setlists included new arrangements of songs I'd heard before, songs I'd never heard before, covers of Big Star (two!) and Buffalo Springfield songs, songs I'd dreamed about hearing again someday, and a side project song that I never thought Wilco would reprise as a full band. They played "More Like the Moon!" And "Dreamer in my Dreams" twice, with two different setups! "Candyfloss!" "Too Far Apart!" "Laminated Cat!" Pat played a banjo. John played a standup bass. Nels played an acoustic guitar. They gave away gift certificates for free dinners. The two nights in Montclair and the night in Providence - especially Montclair - more than exceeded my expectations.

Those were the shows, but there was also the tourism. Providence seems to be a great town, and I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to explore it on a day that wasn't Easter Sunday. Montclair also impressed - both Cafe Eclectic for drinks and Raymond's for brunch get a thumbs-up from me, and I could have spent hours in rooms upon rooms of the nearby bookstore. Montclair had some great houses, and though we didn't see many residential areas of Providence, the old buildings were impressive. Mail chutes! Architectural details! The weather was sunny and warm the entire time, too. Sitting on the steps of Providence's City Hall at 12:30 a.m. with friends, cracking up, enjoying refreshments from the legendary silver truck parked nearby, I realized for the thousandth time how much I just plain love doing this. I'm so glad I had the foresight to plan for another round next weekend.

Side trip

2010-03-29T20:56:00.008-05:00

For a long time now, I've dreamed of taking a Route 66 road trip. Gina and I made serious headway planning one back in 2005. Sadly, it became clear that it would take a prohibitively long time to drive in both directions, yet be prohibitively expensive to rent a car one way and fly back home. We settled for an abbreviated California road trip on Highway 1, which was wonderful. Still, Route 66 beckons.

On my drive from Peoria to Wisconsin last Friday, I spotted a Route 66 museum ad on an exit sign. I was conflicted: stop in Pontiac, IL on a whim to see what it had to offer, or scoot past Chicago before rush hour? You probably don't need me to tell you that whim carried the day. Click below for a photographic tour...

I followed the signs off the highway, eventually arriving in historic downtown Pontiac. The Route 66 museum is housed in Pontiac's old City Hall building, and shares space with various antique shops and an upstairs war museum.

Admission was free (donations accepted), and two older women greeted me enthusiastically inside. They'd been sitting at one of two authentic booths from the very first Steak 'n Shake restaurant:

The ladies were very helpful, explaining the museum layout and providing pamphlets. I received personalized explanations of interesting items, and a brief tour of the murals on the alley walls out back. The Route 66 mural above is painted on the back of the museum building. This Roszell's Soda Fountain mural is on a facing wall across the alley:

The first floor of the museum is devoted to memorabilia from Route 66 in Illinois. Much of it, of course, relates to food joints. Check out this postcard from White Fence Farm:

I want to go to there. I also want that postcard for my wall at work. It's got the classic "Eat me; I'm delicious - I'll even cook myself for you!" chicken chef logo pointing out the name of the restaurant, which is a big plus. And if you ask me, too few postcards these days prominently feature a big plate of fried chicken. It's a work of art. Anyway, great news! A quick Googling shows that White Fence Farm is alive and well. They even have a petting zoo. It's not that far from Chicago, and I am going at some point this summer. For sure.

Speaking of places I want to go:

I want to go to there, too. Just the name is delightful: Pig-Hip. The hyphen makes it a tad inscrutable. Was it named for the hip region of the pig? Or by some fortuitous turn of events, did two people with the last names Pig and Hip decide to go into business making delicious pork sandwiches? (Nope, the owner was named Ernie Edwards.) Can't you just imagine stopping by in the 1960's and being handed a steakburger and pig-hip sandwich - with lettuce and tomato - in that white paper bag above?

The man in this photo (Ernie Edwards, I presume) is exactly the person I want to run a restaurant called Pig-Hip. Zoom in and look at the part of the menu you can see on the side. I wish I'd gotten the whole thing. They are fresh Baked Ham!

Tragically, when I progressed further in my museum tour (upstairs to the photo exhibits), I learned that Pig-Hip was destroyed by fire in 2007. Here's a bit of detail about the blaze. It seems that even before that happened, Pig-Hip was a museum and no longer serving food. Alas.

After my exploration of the museum and antique shops, I headed outside to see a few more of Pontiac's new murals. The Route 66 one has been there for awhile, but many were painted just last year.

I also strolled by the Livingston County Courthouse, checked out the Abe Lincoln statue, and visited a thrift shop where I bought three pairs of shoes for a total of 75 cents. I wanted to see the swinging bridges, too, but by that time I really had to get going. Pontiac was definitely a worthwhile stop, even if I paid for it later in Chicago traffic. I love road trips. This was a good reminder that any drive - even a drive home from a business trip - can be made interesting if you're simply willing to waste a little time.

Last snow of the year

2010-03-22T20:42:00.005-05:00

I'm not jinxing it! It's just a fact. Damn it. Measurable accumulation at least. Right?

This was the view from the country club where I attended Gina's bridal shower on Saturday. It was a lovely time, Gina and Ryan received many fine things, and I'm realizing how close the wedding now is. (Something of which I'm sure they are well aware.) I wish my dress would ship already. Stay tuned in coming weeks for stress about fittings and getting the entire outfit put together. Wee! But really, I am excited. Lots of fun in store between now and early May.

In my more immediate future, work. Last time I went on a business trip, my destination was Beverly Hills. Later this week I have another trip ... to Peoria. Though this prospect is a little less thrilling, I have to admit that it's nice to not bother with flights and serious packing. The older twin nephews' birthday party is this weekend, so I'll be squeezing in a family visit before coming home. Must remember to wrap presents.

Apparently there is a river in Peoria, and my hotel is on it, so perhaps that will be nice?

Name me a song that everybody knows

2010-03-16T23:46:00.002-05:00

Another post, another concert or two. Over the weekend I visited the always wonderful (and this time cold and rainy) Chicago for a pair of Jeff Tweedy solo performances to benefit a youth scholarship fund. I'm no stranger to these shows; this was my fourth year in attendance. Still, I realize I can never predict the twists and turns each evening may take.

It's a well-established tradition now that the first thirty or so people in line each night get to pick the setlists for these concerts. This leads to an eclectic group of songs: a mixture of the obscure b-sides Jeff always teases the crowd about, side project and former-band tunes, plenty of covers, and a few favorite staples. We heard "Monkey Mess," a song written years ago by Jeff with his son's preschool class. "Fake Plastic Trees," sounding ever more polished. A new acoustic arrangement of "Poor Places." A verse or two of a song popularized by Elvis Presley, "A Fool Such as I." The always-beautiful "More Like the Moon," with a slight lyrical variation that would only be noticed by a nerd such as I. A brand new song Jeff wrote for Mavis Staples with a chorus of "You're not alone." (That one wasn't a request, exactly, but came when an audience member asked Jeff what he would like to play.) The song that surprised me most of all was "Shakin' Sugar," a Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-era outtake. I would have never requested it, assuming it had no chance ... but I'm glad someone did. And I'm certainly glad I was wrong.

Impressing me most this year was the attention Jeff paid to playing all of the requests. In the past, as far as I can recall, there have always been songs nixed or omitted, or alternate requests solicited. Although one repeat song from Night 1 was not played on Night 2, I don't think anybody's choice was skipped this year. Given how deep people dug for their requests, that's pretty remarkable. My own request on Night 2 was a choice between two songs: either "Ashes of American Flags" from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, or "Single Ladies" by Beyoncé. I'm pretty sure I expected Jeff to pick the former, but instead we were treated to a mostly spoken-word, entirely hilarious dramatic reading of "Single Ladies" in full. Oh goodness. You'd be surprised by how many different inflections can be put on the line "Don't be mad once you see that he want it."

Concerts weren't the only thing going on in the city over the weekend, of course. There's also this holiday called St. Patrick's Day, and Chicago is kind of into it. My companions and I visited the green Chicago River, and I bought a shamrock lei from one of the many vendors in the Loop. (Two for $1.00 if they can't get them untangled!) We also enjoyed a delicious dim sum brunch on Sunday, with bubble tea for dessert. I should get down to Chicago for a weekend more often than I do, really. Good thing I have two more on the calendar within the next month and a half. Next time, it should truly be spring.

Also see:
2009 (sort of)
2007

They say that this is where the fun begins

2010-03-11T00:02:00.002-06:00

On Saturday I headed back to Milwaukee for my second show of the weekend, The Avett Brothers at the Riverside Theater. The Avetts are a prime example of performers who have grown in popularity since I first saw them. In fact, it happened in a very short period of time. I heard Avett Brothers buzz around Emotionalism on 2007 end-of-year lists, but didn't get a chance to see them until October of last year. That show was at the Barrymore in Madison. Though I think it did sell out, it didn't do so until the night of the show. Fast forward five months to Milwaukee. The Avetts had been booked to play Turner Hall, capacity slightly higher than the Barrymore. That venue sold out, and the show was moved to the two-and-a-half-times-larger Riverside. Which also sold out in advance of the show. Not bad, Avetts.

Inside the pit, we found spots up front with a great view of the stage. The unassuming openers, The Low Anthem, impressed with their set. Comparisons were drawn to Duluth's Low, and I could definitely hear that. I'd like to see them in a smaller setting with less background chatter, but they did a good job with such a big place.

As mentioned above, this was only my second time seeing The Avett Brothers. Last time, I half-assed a review of the show because I was busy, though I did enjoy it very much. I specifically noted the infectious energy on stage, despite having been told that as Avett Brothers shows go it was a relatively tame outing. This time, I felt even more energy from both band and crowd. Curious, at first glance, since the Barrymore is so much smaller and more intimate than the Riverside. Maybe it's a sign that the Avetts are truly ready to fill much bigger spaces. The band - especially Scott Avett - took advantage of the larger stage: jumping up and down, parading along the stage's edge, even laying down a few feet from us while furiously strumming the banjo during the encore. It may still be true that the Avetts of a few years ago were more of a spectacle, but perhaps they're ready to let their music do more of the talking.

If so, they did an admirable job. On this tour the band has a designated drummer, allowing more instruments to blend together on songs that require it. The majority of those are from last year's excellent I and Love and You. Despite some more involved arrangements on these newer songs, most of the Avetts' tunes aren't overly complicated. The word that comes to mind when I hear them is "pure." Some are pure fun, others pure energy. There's beauty and sadness and sweetness. (A little goofiness sometimes, too.) And it all comes through most clearly in the live setting. Some of my favorite moments Saturday night came when the audience sang along loudly ... in fact, on songs like "The Perfect Space," you could say we screamed along. In contrast, other favorite moments came when there were just one or two people on the stage, like Scott's solo turn for "Murder in the City." My favorite song of the night was "Laundry Room," in which a quiet, almost delicate beginning becomes a full-fledged rave-up by the end.

Even before I'd seen their live show, I liked The Avett Brothers. Each time I see them, I come away liking them more. At this rate, even that crazy Bayfield show up north in July might become fair game.

There's no rest for the restless

2010-03-08T21:38:00.017-06:00

My weekend of Milwaukee concerts began with a Friday night Rhett Miller show at Shank Hall. Though I was a Shank Hall novice, I felt at home as soon as I walked in the door. It was classic midwestern style; I could easily imagine fish fries or bingo games being held there on off nights. The Spinal Tap theme added to the general ambiance.

The cocktail seating in front of the small stage brought back memories of the first time I ever saw Rhett, at the Madison Music Awards in 2003. That was a seated pit show at the Barrymore (I know; what?) and had previously marked the only time I'd ever watched Rhett or the Old 97's from a chair. I did miss dancing during the fast songs, but there was much leg tapping and chair bouncing. And the seats did little to diminish the crowd's singalong enthusiasm.

As typical for a solo performance, the show was a laid-back affair. The staples were played with gusto - "Question" with the verse en français, "Rollerskate Skinny," "Time Bomb" - but Rhett also mined the back catalog for a few rarer nuggets. He introduced one song as something he almost never plays, though people yell out for it a lot. "Maybe they yell for it because they don't think I can play it." The song, as it turns out, was "Ray Charles," and he certainly can play it. It was a welcome treat, and one that surprised everyone - apparently including the guy who had requested it before the show. Despite some jokes about the fourth wall, Rhett also honored a few more requests from the audience. One was another tune I haven't heard much live, "St. Ignatius."

Also as typical for a solo performance, there was some amusing banter. Rhett shared tips on convincingly speaking a foreign language (choose an ethnic cartoon character and try to sound exactly like it). His possibly sexist overuse of the word "girl" in lyrics was discussed, and why he's absolutely fine with that. Friday night's performance of "Big Brown Eyes" was distinguished by Rhett pausing in the middle of the song to tell a story about the Old 97's recording with Waylon Jennings. Let's just say I'll never hear "an elixir" the same way again. Rhett went on to sing the entire third verse in the style of Waylon Jennings. (Hey, he and Jon Brion should get togeth... oh, wait.)

All in all, Rhett played 27 songs before the night was through. And after the performance, after changing into a non-sweaty shirt, he come out to chat with fans. As he gamely signed shirts and ticket stubs, posed for pictures, and made friendly small talk, something occurred to me. The majority of performers I've been seeing for more than a year or two have grown to fill bigger and bigger venues. For many of them, informally chatting with fans at the bar after shows is but a distant memory. Then there's the other, sadder end of that spectrum: bands who used to fill large rooms and now introduce the queen of the county fair before playing to a smattering of diehard fans and incidental observers. But Rhett Miller and the Old 97's are playing essentially the same venues I've been seeing them in since 2003. They haven't blown up. They haven't gotten noticeably less popular. If they were to suddenly sell millions of albums and start playing the Overture Center, don't get me wrong, I'd be thrilled for them. And I know long-term consistency in audience size probably isn't something performers exactly strive for. But I have to admit I find it comforting just the same.

Rhett Miller Shank Hall Setlist:
Like Love
Barrier Reef
Won't Be Home
Wish the Worst
Help Me, Suzanne
Nobody Says I Love You Anymore
Salome
No Baby I
Four-Eyed Girl
Nineteen
If It's Not Love
Ray Charles
Sometimes
Question (final verse in French)
Designs on You
Haphazardly
Rollerskate Skinny (dedicated to J.D. Salinger)
The Other Shoe
I Need to Know Where I Stand
Fireflies
Dance With Me
St. Ignatius
Big Brown Eyes (w/Waylon Jennings story, 3rd verse in style of Waylon Jennings)
Our Love
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Another Girlfriend
Four Leaf Clover
Time Bomb