Tag: Retired

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Music, Music, Music!

As I sit here, at the counter of my semi-local coffeehouse, and I feel safe in calling it “my” coffeehouse, since two of the baristas christened me yesterday as a regular (win!), I’ve got Hendrix “Voodoo Child” searing through my brain and it makes me think the I HAVEN’T BEEN TO SEE ANY LIVE MUSIC IN EIGHT DAYS!!!  Ok, maybe that’s a wee bit over the top, all caps and everything, you know?  Still, this has been, and continues to be, one of the more stellar stretches of concert-going I’ve had, like, ever.  It started at the end of October with a trip to Nashville after my niece’s wedding (there may be more about that later.  We’ll see) back in (I haven’t approached the topic with them, and may just leave it be anyway) Illinois.  I saw Jason Isbell at the Ryman Auditorium with my friend Tom.  I’ve seen Isbell a bunch in the last few years, maybe five times, and while I think he’s one of the most talented artists performing today, I hadn’t planned on seeing him again.  But the chance to see him at a historical venue like the Ryman convinced me one more show wouldn’t hurt.

He didn’t disappoint.

I think it was his best performance out of the ones I’ve seen in person.  Just incredible.  The crowd (minus the doofus I wrote about last week that was watching a hockey game) was really into it and that always helps.  He ended the show with a cover of “Little Wing” by the aforementioned Jimi Hendrix and it was spot on, yet also carried enough of his style that you knew who was playing it.  That doesn’t really make any sense to me as I re-read it so hopefully you get what I meant.  And that, boys and girls, is why I’ll never be a music critic…

My next show is coming up a week from tonight when I travel to Raleigh *Andy Griffith voice* to see Manchester Orchestra.  I’d never heard of them before the trip to the Ryman but saw them on the coming attractions list.  Tom suggested I check them out, he thought I’d like them.  Jesus was he ever right.  I’m so pumped for this show.  If you’ve never listened to Manchester Orchestra, please do.  You’ll thank me.  After that, I’m going back to Saxapahaw, (not a typo, that’s really how it’s spelled) about an hour from me, to see Richard Thompson.  I’ve been a fan for literally 35 years and I’ve seen him twice, both times he was acoustic.  This time he’s playing electric and he’s got a band backing him so I’m pumped for that too.  Plus, I really like the venue, this will be my third (fourth?) time there since I’ve relocated.  The next night I’ve got a ticket for Mike Cooley (Drive-By Truckers) in Durham and I wrap up my concert season (I think) a week later when I go to Charlotte to see Patterson Hood (also Drive-By Truckers).  I should probably scroll back through my calendar and see how many shows I’ve been able to go to this year, it’s been a pretty outstanding year from that perspective.  I think I’d rather not though.  Sometimes the not knowing is better than the knowing, you know?  Besides, I’m fairly confident I got over a dozen under my belt this year, and that’s kind of my unofficial goal.  So, if I’m in that neighborhood, I’m good with it.

Alright, I think I’ve taken enough of everyone’s time.  All twelve of you.  I’m off to check out an estate sale and then back to hang with #LillyNO for the afternoon.  It’s sunny again here today, first time I’ve needed sunglasses in a week, but it’s cold in the mid 40’s.  We may find a walk downtown in our future.

Oh, one last thing…  I keep my pocket change in a small bucket.  My pockets get emptied into it every night and when it’s filled I take it to the bank.  I’ve been doing this for a few years now and I usually end up with a couple hundo when it’s full.  Well, it’s full.  I took it to the bank this morning to get it counted and the teller told me they don’t do that anymore unless it was rolled.  Whatever.  I didn’t say anything because I know she’s not the one that made that policy.  But what exactly does the bank do with rolls of coin?  Do they take my word for it that what I say is a full roll is, in fact, full?  I’m fairly certain they’re going to unroll it and count it, right?  I mean that’s just logical to me.  So why not eliminate the rolling part and just take my loose coins?  grumble, grumble, grumble.

Peace

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More From The Live Music File

A quick bit of housekeeping before I get to today’s missive…

Five of you are truly wonderful human beings, thanks so much for clicking on the “SUBSCRIBE” button after my plea last time out here.  I truly appreciate each of you, more now than ever.  For the rest of you; if you’re on a computer look over this way⇒⇒⇒⇒⇒  If you’re on your mobile device, look here⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓ ⇓

Now then, I went to a concert last night, a bluegrass band up at the High Point Theater in, not coincidentally, High Point.  It was a good show.  A fine show.  Fine.  I’m still trying to decide if the band or the venue was responsible for repressing the vibe, but it just felt, I don’t know, off, last night.  I’m leaning toward the venue though.  I think it would be a great place to see a play or a musical, but it just didn’t feel right for a concert.  Actually, let’s back up here for a bit.  C’mon, I’ll lead the way backwards.

For starters, I think the seating was designed by a sherpa.  I mean, great sight lines, but the ramp down to the seats felt like I was falling forward.  On the way back up the aisle, I was wishing I’d had a tow rope to make the climb.  For you White Sox fans, imagine the upper deck at about 43º steeper grade.  With no stairs.  But the seats were comfy, so I guess that counts for something.  I get the feeling this place doesn’t get a tremendous amount of concerts.  The guy that emcee’d the band onto the stage made a couple obligatory comments about upcoming events there, including (perhaps you should sit down before continuing) a Journey cover band!!!  And I said to myself, “Self” I said “I wouldn’t walk from my kitchen into my dining room to see Journey, I can’t imagine the chain of events that would end with me going to see a Journey cover band.”.  And I had to agree with myself, because I brought up a really good point.

Moving right along; I was comparatively underdressed, by like, a lot, last night.  Sport coats?  Sweater vests?  Really people?  I went back outside and double checked, there was, in fact, no red carpet.  And no other rock show t-shirts in the crowd.  And only a couple of flannel shirts, so.  Granted this was my first bluegrass show since I saw the great Chuck Bilskey at a bar in Elgin back in the day, but in my blue jeans and Los Lobos t-shirt I felt like I couldn’t have been more out-of-place if I’d been wearing Scandinavian Death Metal garb to an art show.  That’s a thing, right?  Seriously, I don’t know.  Scandinavian Death Metal.  It sounds like it should be a thing.

Speaking of wardrobe, this reminded me of something I saw at the Isbell concert in Nashville a few weeks back and I’m more than a little disappointed in myself for forgetting to mention it then (see my last post.  Insert eye-roll emoji anywhere you like).  Dude next to Tom was watching the Predators (Nashville’s hockey team for you non-hockeyers) game on his phone.  For real.  The whole game.  Oh, he was also wearing his Preds jersey, because of course he was.  Now, don’t get me wrong, if we’re talking Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, I could entertain the argument.  This was, like, the 8th or 9th game of the season.  W. T. F. dude.  I really wanted to know what was going through the mind of his significant other, seated on the other side of him from us.  On soooo many levels.  Look, I love sports as much as the next person, and I recognize the challenges inherent in any interpersonal relationship.  But at some point there’s got to be a bit of negotiation going on, right?  And if that’s the successful conclusion of said negotiation, I really want to know how that all went down.  Ok, I couldn’t take the suspense anymore so I GTS’d Scandinavian Death metal and found this.  So, we’ve learned something today, haven’t we?

Oh yeah, this was allegedly about live music, wasn’t it?  Uhhhh, let’s see… Kate Rhudy, Lula Wiles, and Chandler Holt were the openers for Mipso.  All pretty bluegrassy, all pretty talented, all intermingling with each other over the course of the evening vs. a traditional opener/headliner kind of thing.  I would probably go see most of them (I wasn’t thrilled with the banjo guy, but that’s a “me” issue more than a stone thrown at him) again, but it would have to be in a different venue no doubt.

Circling back to where I kinda started this thing, I regularly check the analytics that come with this program and apparently the other night some random person in Canada viewed the shit outta this site.  So, Mr. or Ms. Canadian person, thanks, I think?  I mean without getting stereotypical, Canadians are supposed to be among the most polite people as a whole on the planet, right?  So you read 80% of my posts because you were enthralled with my literary prowess, right?  Not tryna find a back door into my banking shit or anything of that nature?  Also, Mr. or Ms. Canadian person, if you’re, like, a literary agent or some such thing, yes, I would in fact be interested in talking to you.

Peace

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Strange Bedfellows

Ahem.

*Takes careful aim, steps squarely on a sensitive anatomical part*

Sorry for the visual, but you were just taken back a few hours to my morning.  I was getting ready to get in the shower and a couple of streams of thought started coursing through my brain.  Now, the logical thing to do would have been for me to reach approximately 3.4 feet to my right, pick up my phone and write a note to myself, documenting my thoughts, so that when I sat down at the keyboard I could refresh my memory and take off on a really stellar production for you fine people.  I, however, chose not to do that.  So you’re left with whatever post-election detritus is bouncing between synapses.  My bad.

So, let’s start with this.  I was kinda watching the election results, both here, back home, and nationally.  I don’t know if “both” is being used correctly there, btw.  It feels to me like it should only be used for two items and not more than that.  But I’m sticking with it, so obvs I’m not that bothered by it.  Anyway, I was glad to see most of the results back home.  A little disappointed the State Rep that covers a large portion of DG lost.  True, he’s a Republican (pro-tip, I’m not) but he has proven himself in a very short time to be a huge supporter of ours (the fire service) and I know the guys from Local 3234 were out working on his behalf.  Yes, I’m a Democrat and I typically want Dems to win, but David had our backs and I’m sorry to see him go.  That is a regular post-election occurrence though, for the politically active.  New contacts must be made, newfound respect must be earned, and groundwork must be laid for the future of the working relationship.  I know the guys from 3234 are up to that task, they recognize the value in it.  Continuing the theme, many of the races from my old home county went south for my side.  I think the Dems picked up a couple of seats on the County Board, which is huge, but I was sorry to see a friend of mine, a guy I met through the party up there, and one I have mad respect for, was narrowly beaten out.  Keep fighting the good fight Carlos.  Also, another friend lost on her State Senate race.  Same thing for you Mary, I have crazy respect for what you do, please don’t stop fighting.

Meanwhile, here in central North Carolina, the Blue Wave crashed headlong into a Red brick wall.  I haven’t seen the results from the county races yet, but based on the state and national races, as well as some referenda, things don’t even look purple, you know?  Ok, I just GTS’d and confirmed my hunch, my county continues to be hard Red.  That’s ok, no regerts (not a typo, just a subtle attempt at humor) here.  Besides, I knew pretty much what I was getting into when I chose this area.  Following the old axiom “Be the change you want to see” may well be me moving forward.

In other news; the Heir To The Throne voted for the first time ever, and on his first eligible election no less!  So, yeah, I’m pretty proud of him for that.  He’s doing better than I did.  I missed voting for Jimmy Carter by less than a week.  Well, probably more like a month since Illinois didn’t have Election Day registration back then, but still.  I don’t remember my first ballot, but I vividly recall voting against St. Ronnie of Reagan in 1980, and everything he stood for.  I also remember sitting at the bar, in what is no longer a bar but actually a really nice restaurant, drowning my sorrows that night watching the results pour in.  (Ha!  No pun intended…)  My friend Jim and I were, of course, the only two “godless liberals” in the joint, don’t think that wasn’t annoying.  Not annoying enough, of course, to stir my inner activist to life.  That part didn’t come along for many years, more than it should have.

To avoid turning this into a totally political screed, here’s a completely random side note; do any of you out there know anything about opening up/running a bookstore?  I found myself in one in Chapel Hill a couple of weeks back, the first time I’d been in a real bookstore since I’d frequented the one back home in Woodstock.  It was such a cool vibe.  If it wasn’t an hour plus from here I’m pretty sure I’d be spending a regular amount of time there.  No such place exists here.  Tbh, I’m not sure this town could support it, what with the population (and, frankly, the populace) but that seems like it might be a pretty sweet retirement gig, you know?

Alright, one last thing.  I want to take a couple of minutes here to encourage you to subscribe to this fine piece of literariousity (not a real word) by clicking on the “SUBSCRIBE” button on either the mobile app or your desktop display.  I was chatting with the Great Vincenzo the other day, whining to him about how few readers I seem to be getting lately.  I don’t blame any of you, but rather the analytics that social media uses.  I’ve been finding my sanity to be much easier to maintain by not spending as much time on FB, IG, and the Twitterz.  On the flip side, my lack of random posting also drives down anything I do post, which pretty much consists of links to this place.

So, here’s a couple of photos, with really bad graphics inserted by yours truly, pointing out where to subscribe.  This first one shows the “SUBSCRIBE” button if you read me on your laptop/desktop.  It’s really pretty easy to find, as it’s directly to the right of the post as you read it.  Literally the second item down on the right hand side of the page.

This next one is if you read this on your mobile device.  It’s a little harder to find as you need to scroll down past the end of the post to find it, unless I can figure out how to get back in to the display settings for mobile readers, in which case I’ll relocate it so it’s easier to find.  At any rate, scroll down until you see the section I have highlighted and click on the button.  It’s pretty simple.  Just for clarity’s sake, if you subscribe you’ll get an email notification whenever I post something.  Currently I’ve got 15 subscribers, for whom I’m eternally grateful.  Btw, if any of you subscribers want to pop in to the comment section and sing the praises of your subscription, I’m totally cool with that too.  Not tryna put undue stress on anyone, but hey, help a brother out, ya know?

So, I lied about the one last thing part, there’s also this before I go…  If you voted yesterday (or if you early voted like I did) thank you!

If you didn’t vote, really?  wtf?

Peace

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Retired Guy Post Number 2

While I was out-of-town, the fall edition of the biannual, official, Illinois retired fire guy magazine (pro tip- not its real name) came in the mail.  That being said, I’m taking this opportunity to share what I wrote back then here with you today.  Like I said when I started doing the regular column for the magazine; A.) I was (still am) thrilled to be asked to submit something and B.) going to share them here after a new article gets published.

So, here goes…

I recently had to travel back to the frozen tundra of northern Illinois.  My Local, DGPFFA #3234, had our Recognition Dinner.  We do this event every year to honor retirees from the previous year, and since I qualified, I came back for the festivities.  Since I’m now on a fixed income, I’d typically drive but due to time constraints, this time I flew.

For the trip home I chose casual attire, which included my union logo’d jacket.  I’m proud of my Union; Local 3234, the AFFI, and the IAFF and I don’t mind representing when I’m out in public.  

Brief side-track…

A few years ago, maybe 2013 or 14, I was helping the fellas collect for MDA.  I was positioned on one of the busiest intersections in town; west bound Butterfield Road at Finley Road.  At one point as I was strolling among the cars stopped at the light, I saw a woman, sitting in the front passenger seat, reach in to her purse.  Of course I stopped at her window.  An older woman along with her husband (I assume) driving a fairly recent model, full-size, Cadillac.  Big money, right?  I leaned over as she rolled down her window and as soon as the window opened the hubby leaned over and asked what we were collecting for.  I politely told him we were collecting for MDA, “you know, Jerry’s kids.”  Even though Jerry Lewis no longer did the telethon I still used that line, especially with folks my age or older.  As the wife deposited a dollar in change (I wish I was making that part up) the husband said, and I quote, “Oh, good.  I thought this was some union thing” Before they pulled away I said “Oh don’t worry sir, it is a union thing, thanks!” and laughed to myself as they drove off.

Back to the matter at hand.

So, while sitting at the gate at O’Hare, waiting for the return trip to North Carolina, a gentleman came over and sat down a couple seats away from me.  He looked at my jacket and asked if I was a firefighter.  I told him I was, that I was actually a recently retired firefighter.  Then he said, with complete sincerity “Thank you for your service.”  I thanked him for his kind words, but assured him the pleasure was all mine.  I meant it too.  I loved being “on-the-job” as much as anything I’ve done and all the good times that came along with it too.  But when someone from the general public drops a “TYFYS” on me, I get a little twitchy.  Don’t get me wrong, I like a compliment as well as the next person.  Still, something about it just doesn’t feel right.  I mean, after all, we’re just doing what we get paid to do, right?  And I may be wrong, but I think most of us got into this business for many things other than accolades.

So, my retired brethren and sisteren, (that may not be a word by the way) I’m looking for a little help here.  Do I just need to get over this or is there a better way to handle unsolicited yet genuine thanks for doing something I loved doing?  Any suggestions are welcome. And, uh, TYFYS…

There you have it.  I actually liked the first one better than this one, but I guess they can’t all be Pulitzer worthy…

That still holds true btw, I still don’t know how to respond when somebody tosses out a sincere “TYFYS” to me.  I mean, on occasion another fire guy will hand one out, but it’s totally different, kind of snarky when given to one another, so it’s easy to laugh off.  Oh well, I guess I just continue to smile and say “It was my pleasure” because, truly, it was.

One last thing before I head off to my next errand.  I’m not sure if I’ll get anything out between now and Election Day (caps mine) and I just want to take a few seconds to remind you of the importance.  I don’t care what your political beliefs are, (ok, that’s a lie, I do, but it’s still your right to vote.  Even when you’re voting for the wrong person…) to me, the single most American thing you can do is get. out. and. vote.  So please, get up off your couch and go do it.  This midterm is a very important election.  They all are, but this one more than most.  So instead of my usual sign off, I think I’ll leave you with this instead…

Vote.

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Life With Lilly Episode 4 – Street Chicken

Well, #LillyNO and I just got back from a whirlwind trip through the Midwest.  You may recall (if you read this stuff) that I had mentioned leaving her with a friend for this trip.

Yeah, about that…

If you’ve ever had one of those moments where you stop and ask yourself “what the #%&$ were you thinking?” then you can relate to me last week.  To refresh your memory, I took #LillyNo in to get her spayed and micro-chipped.

Two days before I was going out-of-town for a week.

Sigh.  I know.

She did great with her surgery, although that first day, a couple of hours after we got back home, I took her off the bed so she could go outside for a potty break.  And I was handling her gingerly, even more so than usual given her surgery.  When I set her on the floor she let out THE most mournful yelp that lasted every bit of 25-30 seconds and she cowered at my feet.  I almost broke into tears on the spot.  And, in that instant, I asked myself what the #%&$ I was thinking by leaving her behind.  I couldn’t do it.  I called my friend Jacquie and thanked her, apologizing profusely, but knew I had to bring my poor puppy with me.  By the next day #LillyNO was feeling significantly better (Thankfully) and we prepped for the trip.  Which was pretty darn cool, if I do say so myself.  And I just did, so.  The purpose of this particular trip was A.) to marry my wonderful god-daughter (to her also wonderful sweetie pie, duh) and B.) swing through Nashville on the way home for a concert (naturally).  And both events went off smoothly.  Except for the whole almost forgetting to do the paperwork which actually, you know, marries the happy couple.  But that’s a story for another time.  I’ve got ample filler here without that tale.  Besides, the two littlest grandkids were thrilled to have #LillyNO in for a visit.  As evidenced by – adorbs, right?

For starters, the Little Diamond scored HUGE bonus points with old Grandpa Joe on my first day there.  As she sat on my lap, looking up at my unshaved chin she proceeded to count all the dark hairs in my stubble.  Now, tbh, there aren’t many.  But to the mind of a three-year old, it was a significant number and she proclaimed it as such.  Heart officially warmed.  Her other particular highlights came during the festivities on Saturday.  As the flower girl (read-flower princess) she marched down the aisle, on time, with a huge smile on her face, stopping at my leg to give me a great big hug until she went back to Mommy and Daddy for the duration of the ceremony.  She was adorable.  Later that night, at the reception, we had the fortune to be seated in close proximity to the cake.  This was no small deal to a cake fan of her magnitude (mine too) (because apple/tree, etc) but shortly after the cake was taken back in to the kitchen to be cut, she looked over at the cake table and said, in a very loud, very precocious three-year old voice “Somebody stole the cake!”  After being reassured the cake would, in fact, be back soon, she was fine.  There’s nothing lower than a cake thief, especially for someone as fond of cake as LD.  Me too, btw.

I’d also like to thank Illinois for providing gale-force winds on Saturday afternoon, along with snow blowing horizontally.  Quick reminder, I just had two Tropical Storms pass through my area and neither provided the wind speeds I saw.  Also it was, like 50 degrees warmer here.

Let’s just say I’m not remotely sorry I won’t be back there for the winter “festivities”.

Nashville was a lot of fun.  One of the guys from the firehouse met me down there.  Tom is a great guy in general, and a great guy to see a concert with in particular, and we saw a fantastic show.  Jason Isbell at the Ryman Auditorium.  If you’ve never checked out his music, please do, it’s amazing.

I also learned #LillyNO is apparently a subspecies henceforth known as Urbana Canis (h/t to Google Translate for giving me Latin) aka Urban Dog.  She loved Nashville.  I suppose it helped that she was treated like Leona Helmsley by the hotel staff.  Although, unlike Leona, #LillyNO loved them right back.  She was given numerous treats, a travel water bowl, and a tennis ball along with being fawned over every time they saw her.  Her elevator skills are pretty impressive too.  As soon as the doors opened, she would walk in and take a spot in the far corner, at my feet.  She sat patiently until we got to our floor and then dutifully pranced off to our room.  I think her favorite part, however, came during our walks.  She not only encountered many adoring humans (and was appropriately charming to them all) she also found quite a different bill of fare as compared to walking around our yard.  Now, for background, by all indications rabbit poop must be classified as quite the canine delicacy.  Sophie *skypoint* used to scavenge the backyard meticulously in search of it and #LillyNO has spent roughly 93.1% of her time outdoors here doing the same thing.  But rabbit poop doesn’t hold a candle to…

Street chicken.

Seriously.

I pulled no less than six chicken bones, one pork rib bone, two pieces of bread, something that may or may not have been polenta, and what I believe to have been prehistoric pizza crust from her jaws.  In two days.  And that’s not counting the things I saw before she did and steered her away from.  Still and all, the #LillyNO experience in Nashville contained many more positives.  An ample opportunity for human attention being foremost on her list, as seen here, on the sidewalk in front of a monolithic coffeehouse across the street from Vanderbilt University, awaiting the next person to speak gibberish to her and prove that she is, in fact, kind of a big deal.

As she should be.  She’s worth it.  And fwiw, I promise to do my best to keep the “what was I thinking” moments to a minimum.

At least as far as #LillyNO is concerned.

Peace

 

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ICRTD Hurricane Edition 2.0

What does one write about when one doesn’t know what to write about?

No, really, I’d like to know.

Ok, since I won’t really get an appropriate answer, at least not in a manner timely enough to write this particular post, how bout this?

MOAR HURRICANES!

Michael is currently making his way toward the Florida panhandle, and after landfall there, is due to come through central North Carolina.  Yay?  On the plus side, for me, this storm will have spent far more time over land than Florence did before getting by me, and it’s also (allegedly) a faster moving storm.  I’ve seen rainfall estimates of 1″-3″ and 3″-5″ depending on the specific track he takes, so either way it shouldn’t be horrible.  Again, I do this not looking for sympathy (or to give certain, unnamed people any Schadenfreude) but rather since I’m not above gloating about nice weather here I feel like it’s only fair for me to write about named storms cruising through my area.

Let’s see, what else do we have here?  Ok, how bout this?  I’m currently at my local coffeehouse, although, truth be told, it’s more like a restaurant that has baristas too, and can I just say Jesus it’s loud in here.  I mean I’ve got my headphones on, cranking out one of my favorite playlists and while my personal volume is moderate, I can still hear the dull roar of several dozen conversations rumbling in the background.  That’s no bueno.  At one point in the last year or two I considered opening up a coffeehouse as a retirement gig.  And then I realized that, you know, that’s kind of a lot of work and I don’t know that I really want to impose that on my retired ass.  Yet, it’s something this town sorely lacks, imho.  An actual coffeehouse.  I like this place, I do, the people are all very nice, and several of them now recognize me by my go-to order (large vanilla latté [or is it lattè?]  I checked Wikipedia and found both used…) which I really enjoy.  And there are three other places in town that call themselves coffeehouses; but one is in a chain book store, one is a former bar that doesn’t open until 10 in the morning and still has the pool table from its previous incarnation, and the third is small, dark, and dingy and not at all conducive to my caffeinated enjoyment.  And caffeinated enjoyment is not to be taken lightly.  In fact, I’m kind of tickled with that combination of words and you may well see it frequently from here on out.  Caffeinated enjoyment.  Kinda rolls right off the tongue, no?

I did stumble across a really nice place up in Greensboro, right downtown, that I really like.  The problem, although not a huge one, is that it takes me a little over thirty minutes to get there from here.  So it’s a pain, but not a deal breaker, at least for me.  And certainly not a big enough hassle to make me rethink my future as a small businessman.  Unless I hit the lotto tonight.  And since I’ll most likely forget to buy a ticket for it, I’d say the chance of winning is exponentially worse than if I did buy one.

Lastly (I think) I’ve got another trip home to Illinois coming up in a little over a week.  I’ll be gone from central NC for about a week with my trip split into two parts; a family wedding on the 20th and then a swing through Nashville for a concert.  My plan as of now is to leave #LillyNO with my realtor.  I didn’t really want to have to leave her locked up for such a long stretch during the wedding festivities and then also I didn’t really want to leave her penned up in a hotel room while I’m at the concert.  I know she’s fine at home for several hours, but if she barks the whole time she’s locked up (and I don’t know that she does, but if she did) in the hotel room, well, then she’s bothering a lot of people unnecessarily.  But still, the thought of her being somewhere else, no matter how well she’s cared for (and I know she’ll be well cared for there) kind of doesn’t sit well with me.  She’s going through a bit of a terrible two or threenager phase now and even though she is perfectly capable of producing short periods of time where she’s a total jerk, I still enjoy having her around and she’s still adorable AF, you know?  So I’ve got some contemplating to do.

I’ve also got some lawn care to do before Michael gets here, because apparently it’s against protocol to have a less than tidy lawn before a named storm blows in and dumps a bunch more leaves, acorns, and branches onto your yard.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.  But judging from the neighborhood activity the last couple of days, that’s the deal, so… I’m off.

Peace

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Catching Up

Well this one is going to be a little bit of the “hit to all fields” variety, since I know you all (see? still not saying “y’all” yet) are desperate to know what goes on down here…

I forgot to mention I have a new favorite town name thanks to my trip home from the concert that wasn’t.  Are you ready for it?

Shartlesville, PA.  No really, that’s the name of the town.  See?  I saw a tractor-trailer with that town name on it and literally lol’d while I was driving down the interstate.  How can you not love a name like that?  Ok, I’m occasionally fourteen years old, I admit it, but that’s still funny, I don’t care what you say.

Ok, back to today ish…

I picked up a hitchhiker the other day.  Driving home from the coffeehouse, traffic (and I use the term loosely) was stopped in front of me so I was moving, albeit slowly, when a gecko appeared on the hood of my truck.  I’m fairly certain it fell or dropped out of a tree above me, since they can’t, to my knowledge, fly  Granted I’m no geckologist (If that’s not a word I want props for it from here on out) and I can’t imagine it jumped up onto a moving vehicle (see previous disclaimer) and since my truck had been parked in the sun, the hood must have been hot as blazes.  It was only up there for ten or fifteen seconds before it scampered over to the passenger side front fender and I never saw it again.  It either bailed or took up residence somewhere in my truck.

Speaking of wildlife, it seems like every couple of weeks I see a bug I’ve never seen before and think “WTF IS THAT?!?!”  I tried to take a picture of the latest “wtf is that” bug before I smashed it, but couldn’t get close enough, because, again, WTF IS THAT?!?!  I did, however get close enough to smash that little s.o.b. with my shoe.  It took several attempts btw, but it’s now an ex-bug.  Thanks to the Google Machine (I typed in giant red and black ant btw) I learned it was one of these –    a Red Velvet Ant which is quite possibly the most diabolically deceptive name of anything ever.  For example, there’s this tidbit from Wikipedia – The Red Velvet Ant has multiple defensive strategies, but is best known for its painful sting, earning it the nickname “cow killer”.  That’s right, cow killer.  Now, if you know me IRL or if you’ve ever read any of this stuff up in here, you know my fondness for RVCB’s! (the exclamation point is due to my love for them, not because it’s the end of a sentence) so the fact that something named “Red Velvet” ANYTHING is capable of inducing such pain, well that’s kind of like a crime against humanity.  I mean seriously.  And to just kind of wrap this “wtf is that?!?!” thing up in a nice bow, the Red Velvet Ant isn’t even an ant, it’s a wasp.

Well, since I’ve stretched this one over a couple of days, and keeping with the theme, I figured I’d include a #LillyNO update.  In between working on this and trying to accomplish mundane household chores “someone” will occasionally bark at me rather impertinently.  This, I have learned, means I haven’t been paying enough attention to her, in her humble opinion.  Since few of the things I have on my agenda are time-sensitive (in case you haven’t heard, I’m retired) I’ll get down on the floor and play with her.  The toy choices are numerous and usually strewn across the floor of the kitchen and den like the detritus left behind by a bomb blast in, oh, perhaps (shout out to Roger Rabbit) Toontown.  Once #LillyNO determines which toy she wants to play with and, for the sake of discussion let’s say it’s the tattered remnants of Lamb Chop, she’ll bring the toy to me and after some small bit of convincing, release the toy.  I’ll throw it, fifteen or so feet, to the other end of the room and she’ll happily leap off after it, grab the toy and coming careening back towards me at a full gallop, almost always skidding into my side like Kramer entering Jerry’s apartment.  This goes on for anywhere from ten to twenty minutes before I can again focus my attention elsewhere.

I’m currently sitting at the coffeehouse, enjoying a lovely lattè (or is it latté?  I’m never sure which, but either way it’s delightful) looking at the clock to make sure I have enough time to A.) finish this and B.) run a couple of errands before I get back home to C.) go to another concert.  Gillian Welch is up tonight in Saxapahaw, NC.  I wrote about this venue earlier this year, I love it.  It’s such a cool vibe and it’s in what was once the Dying Room of an old cotton mill.  Should be a good show, and I’m really looking forward to it.  I can almost assure you though, it won’t be as much fun as the Family And Friends show I saw last week in Chapel Hill.  Holy crap those guys are great live and if you get the chance, I give it a strong recommendation.  They’re heading across the southern tier of the country and ending this tour on the west coast, so if you’re out by that way, watch for them.  You’ll thank me.

Ok, I think that’s about all I can squeeze in to this action-packed episode.

Peace

PS: Because, etc., etc.,  I always run spellcheck on these before I post them.  And, as if to prove I’m not ready to start dropping y’alls around here any time soon, I originally misspelled it…

Again, Peace

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The Best Laid Plans Of Mice And Men Often Go Awry

Hat tip to Robert Burns for the title.  You’re probably wondering if the post is going to relate to rodent infestation or not.  At least that was my point in starting it this way.  Plus I’ve got to start somehow and this seemed as good a way as any.

Regular readers may recall my last post wherein I mentioned I was going to Greenville, SC to see Brandi Carlile in concert.  I had a really pleasant drive over there, I stayed off the Interstate and chose two lane country, well, state roads, for the first half of the trip.  I find that by doing that I don’t get so focused on the destination and can instead enjoy the drive.  Excepting, of course, the random person that enjoys driving five to ten miles per hour below the speed limit through “No Passing” zones but that’s neither here nor there.  I got into Greenville a couple of hours before the doors opened, checked in to my hotel, and found a lovely restaurant around the corner where I dined al fresco.  Back to the hotel to freshen up, I glanced out the window of my room at the entrance to the venue, conveniently across the street from where I stayed, and thought to myself “there sure doesn’t seem like many people are waiting to get in.”

I finished getting ready and walked over to the show.  Or so I thought.  The crowd was still nonexistent.  Panicked, I checked my ticket.  Right date, right time.  I walked toward the door and was met by a pleasant young woman with a decidedly unpleasant job; telling people the concert had been cancelled that morning due to illness.

Sigh.

She helpfully suggested a bar a short walk away that was known for live music so I headed down the street.  Found the bar, and watched two old guys playing acoustic guitar, rocking out hits from the soft-rock catalog.  Poorly.  When the “singer” bolloxed the words to Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans” despite having them on his iPad (directly in front of his face) I figured my evening had hit its zenith and was now descending, rapidly.  Just to confirm the plunge I walked past a restaurant offering the entertainment of a young woman singing and accompanying herself on the electric guitar.  She sounded pretty good too, so I stopped to listen.  I hadn’t even found a place to sit when she came to the end of the song and, as it turns out, her evening, as she thanked the crowd and unplugged.

Again, sigh.

So let me just say this about that.  Brandi, if you read this (I have no reason to believe she will btw) I remain a huge fan and I can’t wait till you get back into a venue I can get to without too much travel hassle so I can experience your music live.  Because, well, you know…  Was I inconvenienced by driving four hours and putting money down on a hotel room it turns out I didn’t need?  Sure.  But on the plus side, I wasn’t the one that had to spend the evening, or really any amount of time, dealing with a stomach virus.  And the thought of spending time that close to porcelain isn’t something I look forward to.  So Brandi, I hope you feel better quickly.  As for me?  You pays your money and you takes your chance, right?  This is the first concert I’ve had shot out from under me, so what are the odds it happens again?  I’ll even get a chance to test my luck tonight when I drive to Chapel Hill for a show.  Family and Friends is up and to prepare for the show I’ve been listening to their album Felix Culpa steadily for the last few days.  I heartily recommend it btw.  I linked one of their videos in the last post, but only one of you took advantage.  The rest of you don’t know what you’re missing.

Speaking of missing (hey my segues are nothing if not smooth)  I just found out a good friend of mine and a strong advocate for our union is getting himself promoted out of his bargaining unit.  I’m not sure it’s public knowledge yet, so I won’t name names, but I do want to say a couple things.  I’ll miss you at the conferences, and especially at the after conference conferences, if you know what I mean.  You have been a staunch supporter and a dogged defender of union firefighters and paramedics, not just across Illinois, but across our great nation.  People on this job generations from now will reap benefits from the battles you’ve fought.  As will the taxpayers they protect.  You’re a good man, and a better friend.  I’m proud of you and I’m happy for you.  I can’t be there for your promotional ceremony,  but I’ll be thinking about you, and I know you’ll do a great job in your new role.  Congrats my brother.

Of course none of these things I just said will stop me from throwing stones in your general direction given half a chance.  And I know you expect nothing less.

Peace

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Without Music, Life Would Be A Mistake

There’s some Nietzsche for ya to start your day.  I was looking for something catchy to title this one so I GTS’d music quotes and it leapt off the screen right into my face.  I’m feeling music-y because I’m heading out today to Greenville to see Brandi Carlile, btw, I have an extra ticket so if you can make it to Greenville, SC by showtime tonight, I’ll hook you up.

I’m heading into a really nice stretch of concerts.  Actually, it started a couple of weekends ago when I met Tom and Mike in Chattanooga for the Moon River Music Festival.  I wrote a little bit about that weekend in the last post, but didn’t really get into the music part of it.  By the time we (and several thousand other attendees) made it through security and into the venue, the first band of the weekend was wrapping up.  We walked across the park to catch, what would soon become obvious to us, their last song.  I remember at one point Tom and I looked at each other with a kinda “wtf did we just miss?” look on our faces.  Just really incredible energy from the band.  The name of the band is Family and Friends and I was so intrigued by that small taste that when I saw they were playing in Chapel Hill, about an hour from me, I bought a ticket to the show.  That’s coming up Saturday night and if the tidbit we caught at the MRF is any indication, it should be a great show.  Then next week I’ve got a ticket to see Gillian Welch in Saxapahaw, also about an hour from me.  Tbh, I’ve never really listened to a lot of her music, but I’ve always heard rave reviews so I decided to go check it out in person since live music, as we (h/t to the fabulous Amy) now know, is better live.

The highlight for October’s concert events is coming up on the 23rd.  I’m going to Nashville with Tom to see Jason Isbell at the Ryman Auditorium.  I hadn’t planned on seeing Isbell since I’ve seen him a bunch the last couple years but when I saw tickets go on sale for the Ryman I figured that was something I wanted to see.  Such an amazing venue, filled with musical history, I couldn’t pass it up.  Plus it gives me an excuse to eat at Monell’s so, win, right?

I hit a bit of a lull until the end of November, although I’ll keep scanning area concerts to see if anything interesting pops up.  On the 30th I’m going to Durham to see Mike Cooley from the Drive By Truckers do a solo show and then five days later I go to Charlotte to see Patterson Hood, also from DBT, do his solo show.  The band isn’t touring at that point in the year, so they bust out some one-man shows.  Imma take advantage, cause that’s the kinda guy I am.

Tickets haven’t gone on sale yet, but Warren Haynes does an annual benefit show in Asheville called Christmas Jam with a star-studded lineup.  Now, to be fair, I’ve put a bunch of links (sorry if you hit ads too) in this post, so if you don’t check them all out, well you’re missing some great tunes, but if you only click on one, make it that last one.  It describes the reason for the Jam and it’ll warm the cockles of your heart and as I’ve said here before, who doesn’t like warmed cockles?  I’d like to catch that one.  Also, the aforementioned Drive By Truckers do an annual set of Homecoming shows in their hometown Athens, GA in February that I’d like get to.  If any of you are interested/available, for either of the shows, let me know so I can get tickets once they go on sale.  Also, I see the Avett Brothers have a New Years Eve gig in Charlotte, that’s a definite possibility as they were just outstanding at the MRF.  That was the first time I’d ever seen them and they put on a great show.  Their link fwiw goes to a song of theirs that just got added to the list I want played at my memorial service.  Morbid thought?  Maybe.  But I decided I want go out with good music.  So I’ve got that going for me… which is nice.

Ok, I just looked at the clock and I’m starting to get short on time.  I’ve got to run a couple of errands before I hit the road for Greenville, including, but not limited to, taking #LillyNO for a walk downtown to socialize.

See you at the rock show.

Peace

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Life with Lilly Episode 3 – Road Trip!

This is actually a two-fer, since I just snuck in a second trip this past weekend, but let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Lilly is now an experienced traveler and she was an absolute trooper during the trip back to Illinois.  We got off to a rocky start, she began whining after about 45 minutes in the car, we weren’t even out of North Carolina yet, so I dutifully pulled off onto an entrance ramp so she could go potty.  We walked around and she sniffed for every bit of 15-20 minutes before I determined it to be a false alarm.  We got back in the car and drove to Beckley, WV for a break.  We stayed for about an hour and she not only didn’t really eat anything, she never did her business.  She did however meet a charming young Jack Russell terrier from Reno, NV. named Tank.  His human drove a tanker truck so…  He was her first doggy bud, and once they each got over the initial shock of meeting another puppy, they were besties.

A couple of hours up the road, in  Middleofnowhere, OH (not its actual name) Lilly started to whine again and this time she meant it.  I found an exit and pulled off on the entrance side and within minutes she had emptied everything she had carried with her to that point.  We made it to our hotel, checked in and hauled our stuff up to the room when I realized I’d forgotten something down in the car.  We headed back down and as we turned the corner in the hallway I saw a woman with two large dogs, a Golden Retriever and another similar sized dog.  I hesitated since Lilly hasn’t got much experience with other dogs (Tank notwithstanding) but thought since the woman didn’t say anything, her dogs must be social.  I was watching Lilly to make sure she was acting appropriately when the Golden got off its collar and charged at Lilly growling.  She cowered back into an alcove and I stepped in between the two kneeing the Golden away and telling it “NO!”.  The lady grabbed her dogs and pulled him away and never once said anything about the incident.  Nothing.  Shame on me for assuming someone could control their dog, I guess.  Had she told me her dog might be a jerk I would’ve picked Lilly up or something until they’d passed.  Oh well.  Lilly forgot about it in seconds and was proudly prancing back down the hall to the elevator.

In addition to her first time experiencing a jerk of a dog, and riding the elevator, this was the first time #LillyNO saw her own image.  The hotel room had a closet with full-length mirrors for doors.  Let’s just say hilarity ensued…

Day two was pretty uneventful.  Another false alarm in Middleofnowhere, IL (also not its real name, but equally fitting) where we sniffed around a bean field for fifteen minutes, but that was it.   We met the Great Vincenzo for coffee in Yorkville and he and Lilly hit it off great.  She also attracted attention from almost every female patron that walked up.  I think he wanted to borrow her for the day after that… just kidding… kinda…

Now, traveling several hundred miles like I do on these trips there are many rivers to cross (shout out to Jimmy Cliff) including… YES! my favorite, the French Broad River!  Of course that didn’t come until my second trip (I’ll get to that in a little bit) but this thought occurred to me while driving through Indiana.  I can’t, it seems, drive through Indiana without thinking about French Lick, Indiana.  No, really, that’s the name of the town.  Who the heck thought that was a good name for a town?  French Lick is the home of NBA legend Larry Bird btw, and I think it’s also got a highly regarded resort there.  But I can’t get past the name, you know?  If you know me IRL, you know where my mind wanders when I think about  the name.  So, exhaustive research (I GTS’d it, natch) produced this.  It’s named after mineral springs in the area.  Kind of a let down, for me anyway.

But back to my travels.  And the reason behind them.  The Little Diamond and the Heir To The Throne each had a birthday, yay!  LD became a threenager (boy did she ever, lol) and HTTP is now *checks math, looks in mirror, sighs* 18. Eightfrickinteen!  How on earth did that happen?  That’s a rhetorical question, btw.  I know how it happened.  I just have a hard time believing I have an 18-year-old grandson.

All in all, I had a great visit home.  I didn’t see a lot of family, though I stayed with the Boy Child and PhojoMama™ and their family which was a delight.  It also produced, quite possibly, one of my favorite pictures.  As you can see here, #LillyNO struck up a quick but strong bond with the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby who at one point leaned over and looked the puppy in the eyes and said “Lilly, you’re the best dog EVER!”  Instant heart melt.  And I can assure you, she feels the same way about him.  He read to her, played with her, cuddled with her, and generally enjoyed her company.  If it hadn’t been for the high quotient of chewable things that she shouldn’t be chewing on, I think she would have slept with him while we stayed there.

I was able to meet with a couple different friends for coffee, always a plus and in both cases entirely pleasant.  Lilly also met some of the guys at the firehouse that Sunday when we went in for Sunday brunch.  Chef Bob once again delivered an excellent meal, biscuits and gravy that would pass muster at any of the fine Southern establishments I’ve discovered since I retired.  One of the guys that I used to work with always commented how we should raffle off a chance to dine with us since Sunday brunch at the firehouse is a pretty awesome experience.  I agree, it would be a great revenue stream for the village.  #LillyNo seemed to have an innate understanding of the ideal way to address a Sunday at the firehouse.  She settled into that spot and slept soundly, only picking her head up when the tones dropped and the fellas went out on a run.  She wasn’t quite sure what to make of all the commotion, but then that’s not at all an uncommon response to waking up to the tones.  We stopped back in a couple of days later to drop something off for one of the fellas and, after saying hello to the guys working that day, quickly resumed her favorite pose in her favorite position.  Aaahhh, life at the firehouse can be so taxing.  One must get one’s rest when one can, you know?

The return trip home was uneventful, thankfully.  #LillyNO was again a real trooper, spending most of the trip sleeping in her crate on the floor behind me. Most of her random whining was put to rest by me reaching back and putting my fingers into her crate.  I don’t know if that reassured her or what, but she would quickly settle down and go back to sleep whenever I did that.

I was home for about five days and then, leaving #LillyNO in the care of my neighbor, I headed out to Chattanooga, TN for a music festival.  I met a couple of guys from the firehouse there and we had an amazing time.  A little rain, but there was only one brief delay in the music.  Chattanooga is a pretty cool town I think.  Although when our Uber driver at one point advised us that “We took back downtown” was the root cause behind any resurgence there, it caused us all to wonder when Chattanooga had been occupied, by what invading nation, and why we hadn’t heard about the conflict on the news.

One other thing that made me chuckle was on Sunday morning, as we were walking back in to the festival.  There was a man and a woman standing on a street corner by the entrance, each holding a sign advising us we should repent our sins or some similar message.,, The man, using a bullhorn, was calling out festival goers, telling them to change the error of their ways.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I think organized religion is a fine thing and I know many people who have deep, spiritual roots and find great comfort in their faith.  And I’m absolutely fine with that.  But I had to laugh when, an hour or so later the skies opened up and poured rain, chasing the proselytizers down the street for cover, while the fest patrons stood enjoying the music.  I guess Jesus didn’t approve of their message…

I also saw what may well be a copyright infringement of me.  This shirt – worn by a fellow music lover made me do a double take and prompted the picture.  My only regret is not posing with the guy for the sake of comparison.  I guess I should point out here that, the Boy Child, the fruit of my loins for Chrissakes, refers to me as “Doc Brown”.  That, of course, is the Christopher Lloyd character from the “Back To The Future” movies.  I asked the guy where he got the shirt and he said some random t-shirt shop in Florida.  I found that part odd, since it says “Myrtle Beach, SC” on it, but whatevs, right?  It’s still a classic and if I can find one, I will purchase it.  Doc Brown, my ass…

I guess that just about covers my travels for the last few weeks.  Quick Hurricane Florence update while I’ve got you… We got a little over four inches of rain yesterday.  I think up to that point we were at about an inch and a half, so yesterday was pretty wet.  No flooding near me to report, as hurricanes go, this was a good one to get my, ummm, feet wet on…  #seewhatIdidthere #sorrynotsorry.  This one turned a little more wordy than usual, but I had a lot to say so, ya know, stuff happens.

And, as Rod Stewart says “Every picture tells a story, donut”

Peace