humdinger

Regardless of your political leanings, I think everyone should go out and canvass for a political campaign. The Eleven spend a beautiful Saturday heading into D.C. to pick up some G’town law students and then driving down to South Fairfax county to canvass for Obama. What the process gives you, and what you’ll realize if you take up the challenge, is a chance to interact and be a part of a process that’s horribly broken and left on the side of the road. We were together for our walk sheet, knocked on doors, and had some great conversations with undecided voters, Obama supporters, and homes with a bit of both McCain and Obama present. We were nervous at the outset as we sorted our goods and got parked to begin: how would we present ourselves? What stories did we have that might convince people to just talk? What would they think of a couple of newly-minted political campaigners? You know what? For the most part, whether they agree or not with your candidate, most are perfectly happy to stand on the porch and talk about what’s important to them – and just as often, what’s important to us. It’s a wholly different view of the process than the yelling and screaming you hear across the rest of the landscape. You know what? There are a lot of people out there that are struggling to decide who they’ll vote for in November. There’re a ton of issues pulling everyone this way and that. There are, hopefully, a few dozen that are happy that someone who cared came knocking on their door on a September Saturday to talk honestly about where we are and where we’re headed. I found that much like every other volunteer activity I’ve added to my life over the last two years, people care that you’re there. Obama has registered over 250,000 new voters in Virginia in 2008. If nothing else, getting everyone to the polls is something no one can argue against.

I headed to the 9:30 Club last night to catch another Old Crow Medicine Show concert. I happened to be first in line and meandered to the best seat in American music: upper level, dead center, with my can on one of the club’s eight or so barstools. I love the Crows but their 2006 show at the 9:30 was very disappointing; both for the sound of the performance and the shitty crowd. Last night was a whole new ballgame – they were on fire and the crowd was so much stronger. They ran about two hours with a 15-minute break and screamed through most of the new CD (out next week, but in my hot, little hands) and a good bit of the back catalog. What they’ve become is a band with enough material to not have to rely on playing everything from every album – they can pick-and-choose what’s to come. In fact, they didn’t play at least six songs that I was expecting to hear yet I didn’t miss any of them. With the exception of a few slow moments, the show was stunning. As I was standing outside before the show, Ketch (singer, writer, harmonica, fiddle player, banjo player, guitar player) was walking to the tour bus with his mother, who was visiting D.C. to see her son and last night’s show. I don’t know if his performance was that much more inspired but he was fantastic. If only I could do any of that stuff. Considering the dip that’d taken after the last outing, last night’s gig put them right back up at the peak of live bands.

Apparently there’s a cat coming to live with us tomorrow morning. I’ll see if I can get to the farmers’ market on a pass before the feline invades my life.



t

it's the music

Right-o

Here's what we need to focus on between now and the end of the year: The Old Crow Medicine Show and their new CD in September, and Gillian Welch. I'm merely guessing, but I think Gillian and David Rawlings must have something to release in the works. Of course, they've always been way off the path of "I must do it" so it could be next year. I'm listening to her tonight; she's so underrated in the twang world.

The 61 is off to BWI to drop X off for her journey north and the Massachusetts Bar Exam on Wednesday and Thursday next week. She'll be staying in Springfield for a few nights to make sure there are no major worries or traffic jackassery on the mornings of the test. She's worried. I understand the worry but I'm fully vested (and have money riding on...) her meeting the 80% pass rate. Send her good thoughts...

L. and I, or the remaining 51, will be heading onward to Baltimore after the drop-off. I've got some late entry tickets to the Baltimore (national) Aquarium and dolphin show so we'll hang around the Inner Harbor, do some eating, and do some shopping before the fish and our later drive home.

X sent me a friend request on facebook today. I reminded her that we are already sleeping together and a facebook friend request was so JV. Was I wrong? Just asking.

The weather in the D.C. area has been unseasonably mild this week. Lovely sleeping, with my facebook "friend", pleasant evenings, and dreamy mornings.

More on the fish later.

t

no man

I heard a story on Morning Edition that informed me that Phoenix is an “urban heat island”. It appears that Phoenix, land of concrete, sand, and sun creates its own heat on a daily basis by absorbing the blast furnace-like death rays from the Sun. Even as the Sun sets and night falls upon the peaceful valley the temperature is maintained much higher than it should be throughout the night as heat dissipates from the parking lots and strip malls. When morning comes the temperature is higher than it would be if you weren’t living in an actual parking lot – hence, no relief ever arrives in the summer. Go figure. Physiologists also report that humans adapt after a number of weeks in that type of heat. The body creates greater amounts of something called heat shock protein which is a chemical that prevents your cells from killing each other. I know that when I plan where I’d like to live, if a locale either 1) acts as an actual furnace or, 2) alters the chemical composition of my body so it doesn’t start eating itself, I’m not packing up the wagon and settling down anywhere near there. Seems fair enough, right?

Here’s my wiggle-wave to the nearly departed Karl Rove and his divisive, stinking politics; thanks to the Old Crows and metrolyrics.com

a tingle in me bones

I’ve already received one RSVP for my dinner party: apparently I intended to invite Burt Rutan and not his brother, Dick; Burt designs and Dick flys. I’m told that the Queen and Julie would prefer to have Burt sitting in-betwixt them. You know, I intended to entertain Julie. I’ve also been chastised by X for having couples sitting together, some type of party violation – it’s my party, I can do whatever I want.

I got an e-mail from the Old Crow Medicine Show yesterday that linked to a new video for I Hear Them All – the best song from their last album. You can hop over and watch if you please, noting in particular the otherworldly beauty of Critter Fuqua’s sideburns…trust me, you’ll know which one is Critter. The new video and the sounds of the boys singing led me to the below video from the Ryman in Nashville. They sound great on CD but nothing can replicate the live shows…at least until last year’s show at the 9:30. A few things to bear in mind: the filming gets much more stable at the song progresses, the sound isn’t perfect but you’ll get the idea, and you can hear them sing the lyrics over the crowd…that was a problem at the 9:30. This is music. And finally, for Ketch – please go back to the unplugged fiddle.

Thanks

T.