peel out!

One (many) of the great memories of my youth in Omaha was going to see the Harlem Globetrotters just about every February at the Civic Auditorium (RIP). Their schedule always seem to bring them to town around my birthday so my Dad would often take me and maybe a friend or two to the 'games'. These were mostly the Meadowlark Lemon and Curly Neal days - the golden years. These were such wonderful pieces of entertainment, whether of not you were a YMCA youth basketball player. I defy someone to come up with a better family-based bit of sport entertainment. Until now.

I've been following the growth of the Savannah Bananas craze and it's stunning. I think they are getting ready to expand the 'league' to six teams. It's rooted in Globetrotter legend, but they've added some more dancing and baseball-specific trickery. They are filling major league stadiums on tour and playing at college football stadiums with 70,000-80,000 fans. So great. Some of the player backstories are excellent.

Long live the Bananas.

folder of dreams

Not long ago I pulled out a CD booklet (a big one...see ^^^^) to take to my car for my rockin' and rollin' needs. It was shocking to flip those pages - there is not a tighter review of my musical tastes, and maybe my life from 2000-2002 in existence. I'm not being overly emotional here; as an equivalent in fashion you'd need something to tell you exactly what pants, shirt, and shoes you were wearing on October 8th, 2001 (rando date for our purposes). That period covered my full conversion to alt.county and Americana music, stuff I still love. A folder created now as a future CD folder time capsule would more heavily lean into Americana (a now much broader scope) and string bands. For every Bellwether there's a Molly Tuttle, for every Waco Brothers there's a Parsonsfield (RIP), for every Buddy Miller there's a Jason Eady.

At that point in time I was still in England - which had a strong Americana scene. I fell particularly hard for Redlands Palomino Company who I'd seen at The Borderline in London (also RIP0. There ain't no video of so long ago, but here's a later shooting of them doing a Springsteen cover - you get the idea...and you get the lap steel representing with a Farmer Jason t-shirt. 

This of course brings up another English-American powerhouse of the times. Oh my, I loved them and this song, in particular. 

I feel my days of live shows are waning. I don't like long drives anymore and my venue taste is more limited. I still have stuff on the books this year. I'm still cool.

upcoming

The 51 has one more (both of us) show on the agenda this year: Eilen Jewell. I've long had an interest in her - "she's someone I'd like" - but hadn't done a real jackknife into her music. A few years ago I was at The Burren in Somerville MA for Amanda Anne Platt and the Honeycutters (who've I've listened to around a gazillion times) and my tablemate asked if I'd seen Eilen Jewell. I hadn't, but he let me know she's fantastic (his favorite) which is high praise for someone who drove his wife and kids up from Hartford for the Honeycutters. I finally order some CDs (yes) and have been listening to get up to speed on her large catalog, but today I hit "Santa Fe". Okay, I'm all in now. All. In. If you knew me and loved me you'd know this song would get me.

There'll be more talk of solo shows with Kasey Chambers, Mipso, Billy Strings, Ordinary Elephant, Gabe Lee and Jason Eady, and I'm With Her. 

you never know

I watched the highlight (over and over) of Freddie Freeman hitting the game-winning, two-out, bottom of the tenth grand slam to end Game 1 of the World Series. It was fabulous. Of note, outside of Cubs (1972-2012) and the Nats (2012-present) Freeman is one of my favorite players. These events, in a series, can be bittersweet because you don't know the future. (At this point, we know the Dodgers also won Game 2.) That amazing moment in time - especially if you are in the stadium - may fade to obscurity in a week wiht a Series loss. Or, maybe it holds. Neither of those options matter right then and there because the joy of sudden is like nothing else. There are two Capitals events that I was at that were similar, yet different. In a 2008 playoff series vs. the Flyers, Mike Green scored a goal that tied the game late before an Ovechkin winner - the sound and fury of the Green goals was staggering. Funny, I don't remember the Ovi winner. The Caps lost that series in a Game 7 OT heartbreaker so that memory is a bit lost. A year later, Sergei Fedorov scored a series winning Game 7 goal over the Rangers that was just as crazy. It lingers longer because it ended the series, as opposed to an early or mid-series event amongst an untold finish.

The Freeman homerun doesn't yet have it's place defined. We want to put it next to Kirk Gibson's limpy HR magic from Game 1 in the 1988 series, but it's not there...yet. The Dodgers beat the A's that year in an upset so that Game 1 blast will forever hold the spotlight. For Freeman's to do that, they need to win the Series.

The also need to win the Series because then the Yankess will have lost.

nyc outfit

Spent the weekend in NYC with my friend Jon (yes, he quizzed me on Hebrew and Greek. Apparently, the Greek words for mushroom and clothespin are very similar, but that's another story). I've been working hard at keeping in better contact with friends and seeing them when able. This visit was centered around seeing Hamilton on Broadway, and his report at the intermission was that he only sang along in his head, not aloud. Very adult. We stayed at my usual haunt on the UWS - still and always the best place to stay in Manhattan.

On Saturday morning on the way to the Highline we climbed on the 7 train to Hudson Yards (we were only a stop away) hoping to get there early before the crowds. The train was packed (!) and my fear of Highline mayhem was high (get it?). I'm not smart because at first I was wondering why the threesome in front of me was dressed as Mario Kart characters. Who goes to the Highline in costume. I look around and see a collage of other characters with swords, goofy hear, and costumes. I finally wise up and hit the phone to find our that NY ComiCon was ongoing at the Javits Center at the Yards with a 10am start that morning. The Highline was not crowded with Mario Kart folks, though I kept my eye out for green shells coming at me.

Here's the thing about live theater, and I'm sure there's something about this in long past posts: You have an entire entourage performing just for you. Yes, not 'you' exactly, but you. It's even different than live music because in theatre they are playing characters for you. I'm always amazed. And to do it six or seven times a week seems ludicrous. We were up close and you really get to see the physical and mental stress on all their faces; maybe stress isn't the work...exertion? And, if you're wondering, I bought dinner at a yakitori place in trade for Jon standing in line at the theatre for drinks - two doubles ran $88. Nice. I almost got off cheaply.

years ago

I have/had a rotating set of musicians I used to love - still do - who's photos rotate through at the top of the blog. Once I can remember how I made all of that happen I'll update the rotation. I can do it!

Let's talk obituaries. Over the last two years I've been hit smack in the face with what I'll call, innocuously, shitty obituaries of folks that I really admired. The lack of newspapers - actual handheld paper - has created a massive gap in the historical record. When someone used to die we'd pay for an obit to be put in one or two local papers relevant to the deceased. It wasn't perfect, but it did notify at least some people, likely got passed around, and eventually would become a part of our collective records when digitization started. What's happening now is two fold: First, social media has become a bit of an excuse to not write a proper obituary for someone with an assumption that there is somehow now a record of their life. Second, and it follows directly, is that if one is written it's not only a lame excuse for that person's life it actively creates a void where they once lived. It's depressing. Imagine 50 years from now your grandchildren trying to piece together your life and finding only "Lived. Died. Service on Sunday" in some shit online database. I'm willing to let some of this slide if we'd take it upon ourselves to write proper summaries of someone's life; I don't need the paper to necessarily be alive to contain it. But, as noted, it's the missing tactile medium that has somehow forgiven us the duty to record history. It's someone's duty, let's call it yours and mine.

To the three folks in the last two years who've been failed by our laziness, I'll try to set it right. If and when I see you again, we'll talk.
 

488IS Det 47

About three weekends ago I swung by Peterborough NH to pick up my friend Fuz for a journey to Cambridge for a show by Jason Eady. We'd coordinated - it's not like I just whipped a shitty into his driveway and said, "let's roll!" I've been to any number of Jason Eady shows but while living up here in New England have tended to drive home afterwards. What that limited was beer and whiskey/whisky so for this trip we spent the night in town, both within walking distance of the venue. Jason was coming up after the previous night's show in NYC and ended up in awful traffic so we just slipped our get together to post show at an Irish bar down the street. Fuz and I did pre-show beer/whiskey/whisky, ate some shwarma, and kicked in the venue door when we are goddamn ready to go in. Here's a picture of said venue, Lilypad, so you can get an idea of how rough it really is out there. 

The show was really great. Sophie Gault opened - played acoustic - and I swear I was listening to Lucinda Williams. First song was actually a Lu cover. Fantastic voice, great songwriter, and has a new album out that includes a duet with Gabe Lee. Really, really enjoyable. Jason finally rolled in (I think) during her set and stopped by to say hello before heading up. As usual, the best voice, the best songs, the best stories. I'll tell you all again - dude is as good as it gets. I'll relay a funny story of his, and make it short. He was in bar with another artist buddy down in Texas and they decided they needed to write some songs together. His friend says, "let's go do it, I live just a few blocks away." They head out with their guitars and as they get outside see that it's raining pretty hard. "How far did you say your place was?" asks Jason. "Well, it's further in the rain," comes the response. Further in the rain. They laughed, went back inside for drinks, but eventually got around to writing a song called "Further in the Rain".

The trip was memorable for more than just the show. It's great to see friends - Fuz and I used to go to dinner in Crete, have a few drinks, and laugh at the young crew folks who stayed out all night. (To be honest, even though it wasn't all night, I do remember us drinking too much one night, post-Tamman. One night.) To imagine being that far away, and that young, to picking him up in the countryside of New Hampshire is crazy to think about. Makes me think of the few others from that period who'd fit that mold. It was all a bit reassuring in a strange way.

chocolatiers (chocolatieri?)

What jumpstarted my long-lost musings was some maple crunch milk chocolate, or as they call it "sucre d'erable, chocolat au lait", from Jelina in Montreal. Milk chocolate doesn't tug at the strongest emotions in my chocolate fantasy files, but a good milk can go a long ways. This bar -that appears to be a seasonal offering - is amazing. It will tempt me right on over to some of their other offerings. Yes, I would rather go up to Quebec and tour the factory and buy out the shop, but that's not possible these days.

Since this is a plural entry I intend to add a few more favorites. So intend that here they are:

Lake Champlain Chocolates: For some reason I think of them as bigger than boutique, but I have no reason to say that. It's not like microbreweries that have some established limit of 50,000 kegs in order to qualify for small batch. You can find Lake Champlain's wares down in NoVa so I must have assumed that being available 500 miles away makes something larger than an indie operation. The 51 has been on at least three tours of the factory in Burlington, and I'm pretty sure I've paid at least a month of their mortgage over the years. Every single thing they makes is really good. If I had to push you in one direction, go with the Five-Star Bars. They do everything from straight milk to very dark across all the bars. (Okay, I might also say that their milk chocolate peanut butter bar is one of my all-time favorites.)

Our local place, Tavarnier, is also aces. They are a bit more exotic with nuts and edible flowers, but their chocolate taste and consistency is so good. Across the inventory you'll certainly find tons of stuff you'll like. They operate out of a small space in the Old Mill here in town and with them you feel like you are really in the midst of the operation. I wonder if I can get an internship down there? I'll work for free. 

I came across Xocolatl during my travels in/out of Atlanta over the years. Their storefront is in the Krog Street Market near(ish) to Little Five Points. As with the others, everything is really good, but I'm really keen on the Mint Chocolate Bars. I have a pretty deep affinity for mint chocolate (or mint chip / mint ice cream) which probably comes from the days when 'travelers' would bring you mint chocolate bars from Ghiridelli when they'd return from S.F. along with some pictures of Alcatraz, some tie dye, and a loaf of sourdough. Back in the '70s we didn't have nice things in the Midwest and there was no way to ship - it was all so exotic. 

Baker's Chocolate: Now we are beating off the beaten path. Headquartered in Greenwood, Nebraska they make what they call 'meltaways' that are simply the best noshing chocolate out there. Multiple flavors to choose from and if you buy at the factory you can fistful whatever you choose and just hit the scale on the way out. Or, order the 5 lb. Sampler online. If you don't like them, I'll pay for the shipping to my house.