Tag: Live Music

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Why Modern Radio is A-OK

I suppose this is, to paraphrase the immortal Harry Doyle juuuust a bit behind. I wrote a couple months ago that I would be taping a segment to be played on a local radio station at a later date. Well, that date came and went. It aired on July 1st, something I didn’t find out until a couple weeks later, but regardless, it happened. I had thought it might be nice to put up a post with a link to the radio station in case anyone wanted to listen as it aired, sigh, and with that now an impossibility, I’m left with a couple options for those interested. As it turned out, B2 videoed my bit the night it was recorded, so I could put that up. Or, I could send you to the page on the website of the production company that recorded, edited, and got it radio-ready. As I type these words I haven’t decided which way I’ll go, so I guess we’ll find out together.

There are some differences between the two; despite my best efforts, my stories (well one of them anyway) weren’t “radio friendly” since it got lopped off completely. Kind of a shame too, that one got a great response from the crowd that night. But I guess I get it. Apparently you can’t say genitalia on the radio in the Bible Belt. Maybe anywhere else idk. I mean, I know George Carlin’s famous bit about the seven words you can’t say on the air (it’s a classic btw and if you’re unfamiliar I suggest you GTS) but genitalia wasn’t on his list so… Another difference is that, since the production company, you know, produces things, their version sounds a lot cleaner than the one B2 recorded. By that I mean it sounds like it was professionally recorded whereas our version sounds like it was recorded on somebody’s cellphone, which, oddly enough, is exactly how it was recorded.

So, you know, pros and cons for each. I suppose as far as that goes I could link to each of them and leave it up to you, gentle reader, to decide which one you prefer. Let me ponder all this for a bit as I meander across the keyboard.

The experience of doing the radio show was pretty excellent, I must say. But I already did kind of a recap of the evening, so I’ll just leave it at that and move along. Funny thing about that too. I was a couple hundred words farther along than I am here when I started to realize how familiar the things I was typing sounded. I scrolled through my last couple posts and there it was, this post covering the evening from the perspective of the next morning. *eyeroll* *facepalm* #reallygladicaughtthatbeforeitposted

Moving right along…

I’m not sure why I came to today’s musical selection but I’m listening to the Drive By Truckers this morning. In particular the Friday night show from 2019’s HeAthens Homecoming, a show which I happened to attend. They just came through our area recently, but we were unable to make the show. I can’t wait for them to come back around, they are firmly on the medal stand of my favorite bands, and just incredible live. Speaking of live music, I felt like I needed to name this with another radio-centric title and as I thought about which song to choose, this one popped into my head. It’s a long time fav of mine and I haven’t listened to it in a while. Apologies in advance if the ads get in the way.

I guess I’ve put off the inevitable long enough. Here’s the link to the video B2 shot and it’s age restricted due to subject matter, which is maybe why it got axed off the air, lol. This link will take you to the professionally recorded version that aired locally on July 1st. So check them out if/when you get the chance, and, as always, I appreciate any and all comments. Even those from you, Ray.

Peace

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Bugs, etm

So, I’ve been intermittently thinking of a place to use the above “new” abbreviation for a little bit now and I decided this was as good a way to do it as any. I stumbled across it a few weeks ago on social media (one of the few things it’s still good for is finding things that make me laugh) and my first thought was “well, this is probably not a real thing.” because,you know, internet. Followed quickly by “I don’t care, I love it and I’m going to incorporate it into something as often as I can.” which brings me back to this. According to the post; etm is a Latin abbreviation, similar to etc, et al, and the like. It is an abbreviation of et merda which, the internet tells me to believe, means “and shit” as, for example, etc which is the abbreviation of et cetera, translates to “and so forth” and now that I have expanded all of your vocabularies by a little bit I feel like I can move on. I’m nothing if not helpful, right?

To the title, well I’ve been slacking lately on my “WTF is that?!?!” posts. Mainly because the bug life I’ve encountered, while varied, and often new to me, has rarely been alarming. It took me a little longer than I expected to find this particular post due to it being almost four years ago, as well as me stopping to peruse a few old posts because, why not, but I wanted that post in particular because it was one that I knew featured an excellent example of “WTF IS THAT?!?!”

If you haven’t figured out yet that all of that is leading to this, well, I guess you’re new here. But, also, it’s leading to this because the other day I experienced a new and semi frightening example of WTFIT.

There were a couple reasons my foot is as close as it is to that bug… A.) I wanted something in the frame so you could more easily visualize the size of this behemoth bug. I assure you, that picture is not comparable to, say, a typical fishing trip photo. My foot is about four inches away from the bug. I swear to god that damn thing was at least the size of a golf ball. B.) It was dead.

At least I thought it was dead. As I debated where to kick the corpse, the bug’s legs started churning like a colonial era butter maker. I won’t say I’m afraid of bugs, but we have an understanding; stay out of my personal space and I’ll likely let you go about your ugly business. Mostly. In this particular case, I grabbed a brick and dropped it on the bug from a height of about two feet. This seemed to accomplish what I was going for here, namely killing the bug without leaving a huge buggy mess to clean up. I kicked the bug out into the street, about three kicks on what I guessed to be a par 4 down my driveway and put the brick back in the neighbor’s yard where it belonged. I took one last look at the bug and, much to my surprise, it was still moving, efforting desperately in an attempt to right itself. And probably to hunt down the SOB that dropped a brick on it for all I know. A short time later B2 got home from work, and as I watched her back into the driveway, I saw she rolled over the beast. Taking another status check on the monster I must admit I wasn’t totally surprised to see that, while it wasn’t moving, it also didn’t exactly look any worse for the experience. It wasn’t until about an hour later, when I took one last look, that I could tell some passing vehicle had sufficiently flattened it out of existence. Finally satisfied Bug-hemoth (get it? Behemoth/Bug-hemoth?) had gone to its final destination, I went back about my business.

As long as we’re on this topic, here’s another odd bug I don’t ever remember seeing before. Our carport gets a lot of use as an outdoor sitting area. Since I’ve lived there I’ve enjoyed sitting there, for no real reason other than it’s typically protected from the weather. The exception to that rule is in the warmer months of the year when the afternoon/early evening sun beats down mercilessly on our sitting area. When that happens, we move to a little patio just off the carport that is pretty well shaded.

Excuse the morning light/shadows, I’m never going to be confused with PhojoMamaTM as a photographer, but this should at least give you an idea of our little sanctuary. Sitting out there one afternoon, as B2 and I chatted about our day, I noticed what appeared to be a piece of lint on a leaf of one of the potted plants pictured above. When I realized it was moving purposefully across said leaf, I knew it wasn’t lint. I’m pretty perceptive that way apparently. A quick GTS led us to believe it was some kind of mealybug and again I’d like to point out to you that this is a direct violation of bugs staying away from my shit. They are supposedly harmless to people, but they’ve been consuming my plants like, well, me when confronted with a pastry cart filled with lovely baked goods. And I can’t have that. Either, really. The pastry cart and these fluffy little bastards are both on a parallel track with the destination leaving me shaking my head and muttering obscenities. I asked someone at the local nursery what I could do to rid my plants of these pests and she advised me the best way was to take a cotton ball and wipe the leaves down with rubbing alcohol. Look at the picture again. If you think I’ve got the patience to wipe each #@%**$# leaf with rubbing alcohol, well, you’ve apparently never met me before. That ain’t happening. So, instead, I chose what some may see as sadistic (I however refuse to accept sadism as remotely applicable where bugs are involved. Have you even seen Men In Black?) but I have found to be quite effective in removing these pests. A lighter. The extended version typically used to light candles, etc. The bugs are quickly and efficiently immolated with minimal scarring to the leaves of my plants.

Win/win for me. The bugs? Not so much.

I’ll put a bow on this one by noting Manchester Orchestra is bouncing between my ears today. Man I love that band. Whenever I mention MO, I always feel like I should give a hat tip to my friend Tom for pointing me in their direction. What a great call Tom, thanks again and always. I would certainly place them on the medal stand of my current favorites, along with Drive By Truckers and John Moreland. Additionally, all three bands have got new, or at least newish albums out and all three are stellar. I can’t recommend enough that you catch any of these acts should they be touring in your general area. Not sure if I wrote this bit up or not so I apologize if I’m being redundant, but B2 and I caught a John Moreland show this past spring in Saxapahaw and actually ran into him outside the venue chilling out before the show. We talked for maybe twenty minutes. Just an absolutely lovely human being to chat with. Also one of the best songwriters around.

Peace

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Back To Back, Baby!

That’s right, two days in a row! Don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence btw. But I figured, given yesterday’s post, the least I could do was to pop out an update of some sort.

Last night was a lot of fun for me and I feel comfortable saying it was for everyone involved too. A very supportive crowd of around 50 people, seven local performers/artists/me and I’ll sum it up briefly by saying there are some ridiculously talented people living in this area.

Right off the bat, first performer, Jack, sang three original tunes and accompanied himself on piano. Next up was a local writer, Barbara, who told the story of her car crash from a few years back. That brought up Marquez, again singing and playing the piano on an original piece as well as a cover of “Times They Are A Changin'”. Another writer, Luke, came up and read a bit of crime fiction that was so vivid and descriptive, man he nailed it. After that came two of my favorite people from out here, Luke and Rosemary. B2 works with Luke, so I’ve known him for a little bit and I knew he and Rosemary were musical. We have, from time to time watched their toddler so they could practice, or record, or mix, or whatever they needed to do for an EP they’ve got coming out soon. Anyway, GOOD GOD THEY KILLED IT! Beautiful voices, excellent harmonies, and outstanding picking on two original pieces. Man, I get chills just thinking about how good they were. This brought me to the microphone and, truly, I was pleased with the way it went. I got some laughs, a couple “Awww’s” and I think I even heard a gasp in there at one point. So, all things considered, I couldn’t have asked for a better reception. Rounding out the evening was Lalenja who sang songs from Tuck and Patti, Billie Holiday, and Bessie Smith all a cappella and each one outstanding.

One of the things Jeremy, the Artistic Director/Emcee/Talent Wrangler/prettymuchanythingelseneeded mentioned is that these pieces will be streamed. I looked up the radio station website and there was nothing there about streaming, so I’m not sure how or where it’ll happen, but once I find out the details for that, I’ll pass them on here.

In summary, last night was a total gas. As both an audience member and as a speaker. I really hope this type of thing can become a regular or at least semi-regular part of the community.

Final thing; trying to choose videos for yesterday’s post put me on a definite R.E.M. kick so I’ve had Automatic For The People echoing between my ears (at a reasonable decibel level) (kinda) whilst putting this together. Great album from an excellent band.

Peace

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Radio Sweetheart

This is not only a wonderful song by the equally wonderful Elvis Costello (as they used to say on XRT “if your Elvis is dead, try ours”) it’s also an appropriate title for today. I’ll be reading a couple brief excerpts from my scrawlings this evening in front of a small (50 or so people) group at a taping for a segment on one of the local country music stations.

That might sound like a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, I think it’s pretty cool I was asked and all, but the reality is they’re taping eight 15 minute segments and will air four. So, to me, the chances of my stuff getting any air time tilt toward remote. Not saying I’m not pleased with what I chose for this evening, I went back and forth countless times until I found the right combination of drama and humor while making sure it was “safe” for the radio. In my mind I accomplished that. It was no easy task either, going back through trying to find something with no profanity for instance. Or at least a small enough amount that I could edit it out and not lose context completely. I’m just saying I don’t know how realistic actually getting air time will be.

You may be asking “Geez, how did this come to be? You getting your stuff on the radio? Why you of all people? Have they never read any of your writing?” These are all valid, if possibly harsh, questions. Allow me to give you some background.

A couple months ago I got a text from B2 asking if I would be interested in sharing some of my writing on a radio show taping June 8th. You might say I was intrigued. Go ahead, say it, I was intrigued. So the deal is this. The local theatrical production company is aiming at putting on a regular or semi-regular radio drama. They needed to find a way to work out any kinks in the system prior to attempting that type of undertaking and thought a Prairie Home Companion esque radio show might accomplish that goal. The first taping was last month at the local microbrewery and B2 and I went to see what it was all about. Let me tell you, it was all about a lot of fun. Local musicians, storytellers, and authors got 15 minutes each to do their thing in front of an audience. After the show, the audio was taken back to the studio for editing, cutting the performances into radio friendly time bits. The show that was taped last month airs this month, every Monday at 6:15 PM local time. Of course I forgot to tune in to the first segment to check that out, but that’s what I mean when I say my bits might not even see the airwaves. As far as the artists taped tonight, they’ll air next month.

I’ll keep you all in the loop if and when it airs, although tbh, I’m not even sure if the station has any kind of streaming ability. I’d like to make a crack about how they play both kinds of music (s/o to Jake and Elwood) but I have never tuned in to them, so I should probably keep the snark to a minimum. Kinder, gentler me in action right there.

I knew I wanted to throw in a link to a video related to radio, I never stopped to think how many there were to choose from. Holy crap. REM has a couple, including the aptly named Radio Song but I liked the Costello title better. Side note; damn, REM had some great music videos. Second side note; damn, I wish I had seen them live at some point. Maybe just prior to the height of their powers, while they were still playing smaller venues. Must have been pretty wild. I thought about The Buggles happy little pop hit, made famous by MTV or Queen’s song Radio Gaga but again, probably a misleading title. I’m not actively looking for any more radio-related videos/songs, but if anyone would like to fire off a suggestion for the followup post when and if my stuff airs, well feel free to launch them at me.

Lastly, in addition to the aforementioned videos bouncing between my ears, I’ve also been listening to a playlist I put together a while ago and add to on occasion, called Speeding Ticket. Various songs from Nirvana, Tom Petty, blink-182, The Clash, DBT, among others over the last 40 minutes or so, and it’s been thoroughly delightful. I think I’m going to pack this up now though. I’ve got to go bring out my stuff for tonight (yup, going old school) and read through it a handful of times in an attempt at not looking like a boob tonight. Fingers crossed…

Peace

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Finding Rhythm

I spent my morning blasting Foo Fighters for about four hours while I caught up on my online reading.

Fwiw, it seems as though many of my friends are musicians of some sort. I don’t mean that in a negative way in the least, even though it may come across that way. What I mean is, I don’t know any touring musicians. I’ve met a couple in one way or another, but I mean of the people I know, off the top of my head, probably ten or more play an instrument. And of that group, it seems most are drummers. I don’t know what, if anything, that says about me (or them) but it just struck me as odd.

I bring this up because late last night news broke of the sudden and unexpected passing of Taylor Hawkins, the drummer of Foo Fighters. Now, I don’t claim to be a huge fan of theirs, I like them, I listen to them from time to time, but I don’t for example have any real desire to see them in concert. This may seem odd to the casual reader among you, since I do consider myself an avid concertgoer, but I think due to their popularity if for no other reason, I’d consider them an arena rock band and that’s not an environment I particularly enjoy. Sometimes I get a little twitchy getting bounced into by random people (even in the Before Times) at the smaller venues I typically inhabit and the thought of getting crammed in with 40 or 50,000 other people just isn’t appealing to me.

But before I digress any further, let me try and return to my original point. Hawkins, 50, was on tour with the rest of the band in South America when he passed. As of this morning no other details were released, and I don’t know that anything relevant will be. Not that it should matter to any of us that aren’t related to him, you know? I mean, obviously, human nature being what it is, there is some curiosity, but what matters is a family lost their father/husband and a band lost their brother-in-arms and the rest of us should just leave it at that as far as I’m concerned. Maybe instead of letting our minds wander to some darker place, we should take some time to listen to someone who, as the Roots Music site No Depression wrote earlier today, was a drummer that was “ferocious, yet joyful” when he played and just be grateful we had the chance to listen to him for as long as we did while we send strength and light to those that loved him and will feel his loss for the rest of their days.

Rest In Peace Taylor Hawkins, and may we all find something in our lives that we perform in a ferocious, yet joyful manner.

I feel like I got a little preachy there, and I apologize if I did, but I don’t apologize for the sentiment. By and large, the general public doesn’t need to know details behind the demise of someone outside of our personal orbits. The exception being if there is some benefit to the greater populace. Here’s an example, kinda.

By this point in time we all know that purchases on over the counter meds like, for example Claritin D, are regulated by the federal government so that you cannot buy more than 9 grams, roughly 2 teaspoons, because some cracker ass cooked meth from it in his bathtub. Now, you might surmise that since a stimulant is made from this base substance that, in turn, Claritin D would also have somewhat of a stimulant effect on a person.

You might, but I didn’t last night.

We here in central North Carolina are in the early stages of The Pollening, as witnessed by the lovely yellow hue my truck has taken on. As a result, my sinuses are wreaking havoc on the rest of my head, with Claritin D being about the only thing bringing me any relief. Typically, I buy it in a package containing 15 capsules, each providing 24 hour relief. I take it in the morning and I’m good ish for the day. Except for the fact that, for whatever reason, the drug stores in my fair town were out of the 24 hour variety earlier this week. I don’t know why, but I found it odd that two different chains were both out. Idk, maybe it’s also cooking season, but this time I had to buy a package with 30 of the 12 hour capsules. I had been sticking with my regular morning pop, but last night I was feeling it in my head (this always reminds me of the old joke “Does your face hurt? Well, it’s killing me!”) so I took another 12 hour pill around 9:00, just before we went to bed. I did give brief pause to what the effects might include, but figured it’d wear off in an hour or so.

HAH!

I got roughly zero hours of sleep last night. But apparently if I ever need to make an overnight drive anywhere I can just pop an otc decongestant to get wherever I need. I don’t know what else to attribute it to, but what I do know is it sucked. I moved out to the couch around 11:00 and #LillyNO was gracious enough to share it with me. B2 had to work this morning and I didn’t want to take a chance on waking her (B2 that is, not Lilly) as I tossed and turned, literally all night. I should clarify, it’s not like I had the shakes or anything, I was just awake. Like unable to sleep. I finally started to feel a little tired around the time her alarm went off so I just made it official and got up to have a cup of coffee. Fortunately we don’t have any plans for the evening, so if I end up calling it a night in the immediate aftermath of dinner, so be it.

And I’ll be calling it a night without any decongestant.

Ok, last thing, this post has been accompanied by the last album from the late Justin Townes Earle; The Saint Of Lost Causes, and if you’ve never listened to it, you should. It’s wonderful. He was a wonderfully talented, troubled young man. And also gone too soon. Maybe that’s what drew me to that album this morning, I don’t know. But it was a good call.

Peace

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Writer’s Block

I’ve been struggling to compose anything that made sense/brought joy to me of late, so I thought I’d try and break my slump here. To be sure, this isn’t the type of “slump-buster” you may be familiar with, I have no plans for anything nefarious, merely trying to switch things up a little. I don’t have a theme for today per se, rather I’ll try and do a “hit to all fields” post for the occasion.

After looking at that last paragraph, I’ve apparently got baseball on my brain, what with all the references. Ok, let’s start there. If you’ve followed the lack of action on that front for the last several months, you may be aware that Major League Baseball (MLB) and the Players Association (MLBPA) recently agreed on a new collective bargaining agreement after a lockout that lasted 99 days. If you have ever read any of my stuff before, or if you know me IRL, I think you’ll know that; A.) I love baseball, B.) I support union workers period, and C.) I’m a lifelong Cubs fan. Let me add to that by saying; D.) I’m what you might call somewhat political. While I’m not argumentative by nature (there are some that just need to hold their thoughts right about now, just sayin’) I have felt the need to stand my ground from time-to-time on various topics. Here’s one that has been building for a long time and the recent lockout proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back- I’m done with the Cubs.

I’m done giving my support to an ownership group that has, at almost every turn, stood for things I vehemently oppose. Every inside piece I’ve ever seen about the family that owns the Cubs has been filled with disdain for the common fan. Almost every move they have made since taking over the team has been done to deepen their own personal pockets. Now don’t misunderstand me, I understand that it’s a business, and the point of a business is, to my simple mind, to turn a profit. I get that. But when you turn a healthy profit and cry poor, well that gets old. Through readily available public sources, the family that owns the Cubs paid $845 million for them in 2009 and as of March 2021, according to Forbes magazine, the ball club was valued at $3.36 billion dollars. So don’t tell me you can’t afford to pay your employees. And it’s not just them, I’m sure a similar search through any number of ownership groups would produce similar results. And yet, MLB chose to lockout the MLBPA last December and sit idly for 43 days before restarting negotiations. And fought them every. single. step. of the way.

So thanks for the 2016 season and the World Series, but I’m out.

I’m not going to go any deeper into this particular topic, I just submitted my article for the Illinois retired fire person magazine and I feel like they should have a little exclusivity as far as my views on the topic go. So. Moving right along.

I’m often fond of weather bragging when it’s beautiful down here. So I feel the need to weather shame a little today. It’s. Frickin’. Cold. Like, I had to get my old Carhartt winter jacket back out of the closet this morning. Granted, those of you back in the Greater Burlington Metropolitan Area (aka northern Illinois) might cast a wayward glance at me for whining about rain and 40º but I’ll not change my position that this is just not right. The fact that the coming week should be pretty seasonal if not a little better is small consolation to me today. I’m cold. And a little crabby too. But a lovely latte and firing my thoughts off on my laptop are helping to abate that misery.

Music, of course, helps. How’s that for a segue? For my listening pleasure today I’ve got Joe Pug pumping through the headphones. Today is the first time I’ve ever listened to him, possibly even the first time I had heard of him although the name does strike me as kind of familiar. I was scrolling through the Twitterz this morning and I saw a post from Jason Isbell that linked to a Joe Pug song, so I gave it a listen. The song was Bury Me Far (from My Uniform) and it blew me away. I apologize for the ads on the link, if I knew how to put one up without them, I certainly would, but I guess that’s the way YT does business… Anyway, back to the music, yeah, if you’re unfamiliar with Joe Pug, give him a listen. He’s actually playing in Chicago next month on the 15th at Tonic Room and if anyone goes, I’d love to hear your thoughts. I can’t wait for him to get down to the southeast, we’ll definitely go check him out.

Imma wrap this one up briefly by continuing the musical vibe, we’re off to see Graham Nash on Tuesday over in Durham. I’m really looking forward to it too. I saw CSN many years ago, Diane and I went with the Great Vincenzo and Terri to the United Center. The band was at the opposite end of the stadium from us, but it was a great show nonetheless. There have been countless protest songs written throughout the history of recorded music, but I wonder if anyone, anywhere has ever written one as beautiful musically as To The Last Whale: I. Critical Mass, II. Wind On The Water because I don’t know if it’s possible. Again, sorry if you get the ads, but enjoy the music. I know I do.

Peace.

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Confessions of a Budding Fat Guy

One of the things I have learned, probably too late in life, but I’ve learned it nevertheless, is how pervasive body-shaming is and how wrong it is. Self reflection also taught me how often I was guilty of it in the past. I made a conscious effort a few years back to stop doing it, and it wasn’t as difficult as I feared it would be. I mean, really, it’s more about being a decent human being than anything, right? That shouldn’t be too hard for any of us.

I wrote that as a segue to this – the title is absolutely, totally, unequivocally, this guy. And, fwiw, I have no problem body shaming myself when necessary. If you know me IRL, maybe even only if you know me from here, you probably know I have an affinity for baked goods. Sweets, in general really, but more specifically pastries and the like. Ice cream has been a big part of my life for a long time too. I can’t help it, I just love the stuff. In the past I’ve always gotten away with eating those types of things with no regard for weight gain due to my metabolism and/or genetics I guess. I’ve been accused, on more than one occasion and by more than one person, that I have the dietary habits of a garbage truck.

Guilty as charged.

But, as I said, in the past it never really affected me. I was able to stay around 195 pounds pretty consistently for a pretty long time. And the time or two where my weight did jump up over 200 pounds I was able to cut back on careless eating habits and get things back under control fairly easily.

Those days are, apparently, behind me. Along with a rather ample rear end. In front of me however, is the prospect of moonlighting as one of Santa’s department store helpers. And I wish I was joking about that. B2 got one of those high techy scales from her parents (her request) for Christmas. I should specify that she wanted it for herself, not because she thought I needed it. She has been nothing but kind about my expanding horizon. I, on the other hand, have become increasingly agitated with myself. Anyway, I started using the scale this past week, not every day, but probably four of the last five days. Much to my dismay, the numbers on the digital display rose like the express elevator in a skyscraper. As it stopped at 215 pounds this morning, I made a decision. I went out to the kitchen and threw out every last one of the delightful little nuggets left.

I’m swearing off sweets/pastries/baked goods/whatever for the foreseeable future.

However long that may be.

This is not an easy thing for me to do, but I’m really left with no choice. It seems I’ve finally reached the point where my body will no longer let me eat like an unsupervised 8 year old. Frankly, I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did. But maybe it makes some sense. I’m roughly the same age now as my Dad was when he retired. As far back as I can recall, Dad weighed around 165 pounds. Until he retired. Then he grew a little bit of a paunch. I guess I’m there. Judging from what I see in the mirror and on the scale, I’m past there. Also, as I’m putting this missive together, I feel like there’s a little bit more redundancy than I’d normally like. Typically, if I catch myself doing that, I’ll either apologize for it, or go back and edit what I’ve written to resolve it. I think I’m ok with it today, I probably need to keep rubbing this mess in my face.

So it’s cold turkey for me. That approach has worked for me in the past, specifically when I’ve quit smoking. Maybe by throwing that stuff in the garbage, I’ll be able to pull this off too. I told B2 this morning that I’m going to get back out and start walking too. Can’t hurt, might help, right? That’s the same reason I decided to post about this, put a little extra pressure on myself by going public.

One last thing before I move on to the musical portion. Don’t expect this to turn in to a regular feature. I don’t plan on doing any kind of an update on this A.) because I don’t think anyone cares so much that they would want to follow along with my “misery” and B.) I feel like this particular topic is pretty boring and I’d much rather write things about stuff I enjoy writing about.

Peace

PS

Here’s today’s musical guest – John Moreland. Again. I really wasn’t going to listen to him today, had other stuff queued up, but when I sat down at the coffeehouse and said hi to the owner/barista she mentioned she hadn’t had a chance to give him a listen yet. The backstory there is; she has a sign in the shop that says “Long Live The Songwriter” so one day I asked her who her favorite songwriter was. She was kind of stumped I guess, cause she answered by asking who mine was. I told her in my case the answer was kind of transient, depending on my mood, etc. but that currently my favorite was John Moreland. She was unfamiliar with him, but wrote his name down and said she’d give him a listen. So, when I walked in this morning, she asked his name again and put him on the house system. So my decision was made for me. I have no complaints.

About anything really.

Other than my waistline.

Again, Peace

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About Last Week

I know I’ve mentioned this before, how I tend to obsess over things like typos, spelling errors, and botched grammar (but not the Oxford comma. Never the Oxford comma) and how, on occasion, I’ll go back over and reread an older post and something glaring will jump out at me that I missed, despite proofreading these posts multiple times in a couple different formats. In fact, I’ve probably mentioned a few times over the years I’ve been doing this. Because I am, in fact, obsessed with not putting out a shoddy product.

I also know that I mentioned specifically that the subject last week might have been a little repetitive, but that I didn’t care since blah, blah, blah. Tbh, I still don’t and I stand by that statement fwiw.

Now, having said all that, the other day I happened to glance at the post that preceded last weeks post. It was dated August 27th and the post was titled Southernisms, in case you’ve forgotten. As I scrolled through the post, what to my wondering eyes should appear? No, not a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. Rather, it was an introduction to a new feature wherein I tell you all about whatever musical selection I’ve got running around my brain whilst hammering away at the keyboard. You know, remarkably similar to the way I ended last weeks submission. At least it was a different band. I think I would’ve felt even dumber if I happened to be listening to the same one each time. Which brings to light something else of which I’ll need to keep track. *makes note to self not to repeat bands*

As I’ve said before, I’ll look for typos all the live-long day, and while some things might strike me as familiar, if I’m not overly concerned with repeating something I’ve written some time ago, that’s about the extent of it. But from one post to the next is a little bit closer than I care to leave things. Of course if I wrote things about stuff here more frequently, this probably wouldn’t happen, right Ray? Guilty as charged on that one.

So let me just go on the record here and apologize to you all for my carelessness. It left me pretty aggravated, I assure you, and I’ll try to make sure I don’t do dumb stuff like that again. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. *skypoint to Dear Abby*

I’ve got an idea. instead of leaving you all with the bitter taste of me flubbing a relatively simple task, why don’t I leave you with a new feature I’ve been think about adding here? Sitting in a new coffeehouse in town (Bold Coffee Co.) with a little pre-concertgoing taste of American Aquarium. >insert sound of a record skipping here<

Since I pondered this one for a few days, the American Aquarium concert is now in the rear view mirror. B2 and I went up to The Ramkat in Winston Salem this past weekend to see AA with Tommy Prine as their opener. This is the second time we’ve seen Tommy Prine, and man he’s off to a good start on his career. As a songwriter it’s easy to see that he learned his chops from his Dad, the late, great John Prine and he seems pretty at ease on stage. This show was also a first in that, prior to Saturday, I’ve never sprung for a VIP upgrade to any of the shows I’ve gone to. So this entitled us to a pre-show picture with the band…

I give these guys a lot of credit for posing with a bunch of knuckleheads every night, lol

three acoustic songs from front man BJ Barham, followed by a little Q&A with him. We both enjoyed it quite a bit too. A small group, only nine of us, made for an even more intimate feel. One of the other guests asked him a question along the lines of “If you could hear any album again for the first time, which one would it be?” After a brief moment BJ put up In The Throes by John Moreland and it was such a good choice. He talked about how much respect he has for John as a songwriter and he’s spot on. I first heard/saw Moreland play in Memphis in 2018 and I was hooked. I’ve seen him I think three times since then, including last month at The Ramkat and he’s on the lineup for February at Haw River Ballroom (my favorite venue out here) and I already can’t wait. So, as I write up the rest of this “sorry I screwed up” post I’m listening to In The Throes and trying hard not to sing along here at the coffeehouse. I’ve mentioned before how sometimes I’ll read something and think to myself “you have no right calling what you do writing” and listening to John Moreland’s lyrics confirms to me that he is one of the people that makes me think that. He’s that good.

Imma leave this one a little short, there are other things I need to accomplish today. So in case I don’t get back here before, I wish you a joyful holiday, whichever one you may celebrate, and here’s to a peaceful, happy and healthy year to come.

Peace

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And Now, For Something Completely Different

Ok, sometimes I can’t help myself, so apologies to Monty Python, but it felt like a natural title since most of my recent posts, infrequent though they may be, have been of a serious nature. Today, not so much. I want to kind of blow the carbon out of this thing and get back to a more light-hearted nature today. I don’t know about you, but I need it.

So, I recently spent an evening in Durham, NC at a concert, namely – The Last Waltz. If you’re a music person you may be asking (Go ahead, I’ll wait…)

“Hey, wait a minute, didn’t that concert take place back in the 70’s?”

To which I would reply “You are correct. But this was a re-creation of the original concert put together by Warren Haynes and produced by Robbie Robertson.”

Now then, one of the joys of attending a concert, in addition to the obvious #livemusicisbetterlive thing, is interacting with random strangers. Occasionally this is wonderful, but, by and large, it leaves me silently muttering to myself and shaking my damn head.

As in… casual, pre-show conversation with a fellow a couple seats down revealed he had seen (or was planning on seeing, frankly it all gets a bit blurry) The Doobie Brothers with Michael McDonald. And that’s where the blurry started. If you know me IRL, there’s a real good chance you know my feelings (looking at you O-town) about the band Journey. If you don’t know, my personal feelings about that group of “musicians” can be summed up like this… If modern music were a cat, Journey would be the hairball that said cat was attempting to hack up. How’s that for a visual? So, with that frame of reference as a starter, where does Michael McDonald fit in? I’ll get back to this later.

This year has been probably my favorite concert-going calendar year. Twenty or so concerts/music festivals since the start of 2019 kept my soul in a good place. Without going back through my calendar to confirm (well, maybe a peek or two) my memory, in 2019 I saw among others; Patty Griffin, Drive By Truckers, Gary Clark Jr., Greensky Bluegrass, Yonder Mountain String Band, Manchester Orchestra, Big Thief, New Pornographers, Strand Of Oaks, American Aquarium, Bottle Rockets, and a few that I’m blanking on. I also made it to a wonderful music festival in Lexington, KY; Railbird Festival, in what was its inaugural event. 2020 promises to be pretty good for me musically too, with tickets already secured for Beale Street Music Festival in May and High Water Festival in April. As a bonus, four of my fav people are coming to join me in Charleston, SC for High Water, so in addition to a really killer (and it is) lineup, the company should make for a pretty spectacular weekend.

So, let’s backtrack to my metaphor. I’ve been thinking about how best to describe my feelings about Mr. McDonald as he relates to my taste in music. I feel like I should put out a bit of a disclaimer here. Obviously not everyone has the same taste in music. And I fully recognize it takes some amount of skill to sell the number of records a major label artist, in any genre, sells over the course of their career. But see, that’s the good thing about music. You can have strong opinions about what you do or don’t like. There’s enough variety that if you don’t like a particular artist, you need not listen to it. Tangentially, no one forces you to listen to that which you don’t enjoy. Turn the station, you know? I’m not opposed to trying out artists I’ve not heard before. Seven of the acts I listed above are bands I’d either never heard of or had never listened to until I contemplated buying tickets to their shows. And I thoroughly enjoyed each of the shows. By the same token, I won’t be purchasing a ticket to go see Micheal McDonald in this lifetime. Something about his voice maybe, or his look maybe, or the fact that I feel he is singularly responsible for turning the aforementioned Doobie Brothers from the kind of band that you sing along at the top of your lungs to their numerous hits as you drive down the road with your car windows wide open into the smarmy, self-aggrandizing treacle that was produced from the time he joined the band until the world at large tired of his musical diabetes and stopped buying their records for fear of slipping into a coma.

Too much? Yeah, maybe. But imho Michael McDonald is the hairball the cat coughed up after eating the initial (Journey-based) hairball.

I feel so much better having gotten that off my chest btw. Even though I feel like there’s a really good chance my respective timelines will become loaded down with links to MM songs. I can think of at least a few of you that have that loveably antagonistic approach. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I do, after all, have an intimate relationship with my “delete” button.

In a perfect world, I’d crank out some type of year-end or decade-end post. So, it’s a definite maybe. But if it doesn’t happen I’d just like to say thanks to everyone that has continued reading my random tomfoolery here on the interwebz. I hope you all had the best holiday season ever and I wish you all a safe, and happy new year!

Peace!

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In Between Shows

That’s probably not the most clever or original thing I’ve ever titled one of these, but it’s been quite some time since I’ve been here and, frankly, I’m stagnating a little on my side project and I thought I might get the creative juices flowing if I knocked out one of these. Obviously they haven’t started yet…

So, as the title implies, I went to a concert last night, Patty Griffin at Saxapahaw (not a typo) and I’ve got Gary Clark Jr. tomorrow night in Durham. Both concerts are my first time seeing the artists and if last night was any indication, I’ve got a pretty good week here. Patty Griffin was amazing, she has the one of the most beautiful voices on the planet and it was a really nice night.

The evening is also notable for a few other things too. I discovered that I apparently have a deep-seated aversion to standing in line. Note I didn’t say I was opposed to waiting. There’s a difference. Somehow. The doors opened at 7:00, a pretty typical time for that venue. In my previous visits there I was resigned to parking in a field a short walk (between a quarter and a half mile) from the Ballroom. This is not a huge deal in and of itself, but it can get complicated by things like rain (picture the scene in My Cousin Vinny where the Cadillac gets stuck in the mud) or people that are unclear on the concept of parking with no lines painted on the ground to guide them and you get an idea of my frustration. So, to solve this, I determined to arrive an hour before the doors open. There are two restaurants on site, so I figured I’d get a bite to eat while I waited for the doors.

Ha.

I pulled into the main lot to find it filled already. I did however, heed the advice of some folks I’d met at the last show I saw there and quickly found a spot in a parking lot a half block away, yay me! As I walked up to the door of the first restaurant, I saw a line of people, stretching from the counter where orders are placed, to the back of the joint. Undeterred, I walked to the next place only to find an even longer wait. I chose to pass, again. So rather than taking my place in line like a rational person, I chose to walk down along the Haw River, which borders the property. It’s really a pretty area, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly, hunger be damned. As the time approached for the doors to open, I headed back up that way. A line had already formed, so I chose to take a seat on one of the park benches lining the area. It’s General Admission and I’m not one to fight a crowd in front of the stage, so I was fine with my choice. But as I sat there, people watching, it occurred to me that I seemed to be going out of my way to avoid lines, even though had I waited I could’ve had a lovely meal and gotten a reasonable place in line. It also occurred to me that I was fine with my choice, but I have to admit, it got me thinking. Of course, I didn’t come up with any answers, so…

After I got inside and wandered about for a bit, since the show was still 45 minutes-ish away from starting, I made a trip in to the men’s room. Now, if you’re of the gender that doesn’t necessarily visit the men’s room, let me explain to you that there is kind of an unwritten protocol for these things. As in – Keep the conversation to a minimum. If at all possible, leave a one urinal buffer space between yourself and your co-urinators. Don’t make eye contact while taking care of business, under any circumstances (with the possible exception of a major medical emergency) (Maybe). So, as I entered, the middle of three urinals was available. Stepping up to the plate, as it were, the fellow on my left departed, opening a spot. It was quickly taken. And as I, uhhh, finished up, I swear to god I heard the guy next to me say, very softly, “come onnnn.” Now, keeping in mind the rules, I fought the urge to look at him, but peripherally, I’m pretty confident he was looking down at the source of his concern. I’m also fairly confident in assuming his frustration was based on either a shy bladder or a temperamental prostate. I’m one hundred percent certain I didn’t care enough to ask him. Other than joking around with friends (bathroom humor, get it!?!?) that is the first time I’ve experienced something like that. I’m all about sharing here, so I thought you’d appreciate my little insight. And, no, that’s not a euphemism.

A short time later as I was again milling about pre-show, I heard my name being called. This, as you may imagine, does not happen often in this part of the world. I turned to see one of my favorite baristas from my coffeehouse. We exchanged pleasantries briefly, but didn’t run into each other again after that. This was her first show there, I’m curious to see what she thought. So that was nice.

Lastly, as I was heading home, just getting into my town, I saw the outline of someone walking along the shoulder of the road. It was about 11:30 by this time, so while unusual, it probably isn’t terribly uncommon. The thing that struck me though, came about as I moved over into the oncoming lane (Walkers, yes; cars, no. Not at this time of night) to give him (or her, but I’m pretty sure it was a him) room I noticed the walker was wearing a cape. My first thought was superhero but I quickly flushed (see what I did there?) that idea, cause really, why would a superhero be walking? My second thoughts streamed (get it?) towards that it was a bold fashion move. Are capes even in style now? Is this cape season? Who wears a cape? I decided to let it go before my mind turned into a Seinfeld episode.

But if anyone has any answers for me, as always, I’ll be happy to entertain them.