Last night it was Steve Earle at the Southern Theater in Columbus.
I’d never been to the Southern Theater, but it looks lovely on the website. Upon arrival I’m quite pleased that there’s a parking garage directly across the street which is offering $3.00 “Special Event” parking. Can’t beat that. I pick my ticket up at Will Call and make my way in. The place is gorgeous! My seat is in the front row, almost uncomfortably close for an intimate acoustic show such as this.
Allison Moorer was amazing. I’d have to say that she’s probably the most gifted technically of any of the singers I’ve ever heard live. She really showcased her voice on her version of Patti Smith’s “Dancing Barefoot”, as well as on Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now”. I think I may have to pick up her new album, Mockingbird
, whereupon she pays tribute to some of her favorite female singer-songwriters. Thanks to this performance, I think Allison Moorer has earned a place on my ‘favorite female singer-songwriter’ list.
When the lights went down for Steve Earle, Steve wasted no time, bounding to the stage and immediately launching into “Steve’s Last Ramble”. What we have here is a quieter, dare I say, gentler Steve Earle. Through the course of the night he spoke of politics only briefly. I loved his line that he knew that if there were a candidate he supported the best thing he could do for them was “stay as far the fuck away as I can from ‘em”. You can tell that the angry young man still dwells within (which Steve alluded to, saying he’s “working on a bunch of shit”), but for now he’s been pushed to the background by a Steve Earle who seems very much in love with (his wife) Allison Moorer, his adopted home of New York City, and of course, just playing music.
He played much of his set unaccompanied, then was joined by a DJ (yes a DJ, dropping beats and what-not) for a few songs. There has been some pretty heated discussion of Steve’s choice to use a DJ, but I really felt like it worked. I don’t know that I’d want the DJ out there for the whole set, but for the songs he played on (such as “Satellite Radio”, “Oxycontin Blues”, “CCKMP” and “Transcendental Blues”) it worked perfectly, to my ear.
Allison Moorer also came back out, lending her guitar playing and beautiful voice to a few tunes, including the lovely duet “Day’s Aren’t Long Enough” from Washington Square Serenade.
One of the highlights of the night for me was when Steve (unaccompanied) played the powerful “Billy Austin”. The intimate venue, being so close to the stage, it was truly transcendent. Another high point was Steve’s amazing guitar picking on “Tom Ames’ Prayer”, the constant touring has definitely kept his chops honed. I also got a good laugh when, after playing “City of Immigrants” Steve said; “In case your wondering, this instrument is called a bouzouki everywhere except airport security. There it’s ‘a banjo or something’.”
All in all, a fantastic show; 3 hours well spent.
I hit the Waffle House on the way home for some coffee, hashbrowns, and a ham & cheese omelet. The perfect ending to a great night.
Here’s another review, by Joel in Columbus.
If you’ve really been paying attention, you might remember me mentioning that I bought tickets for the Steve Earle concert in Columbus during the ‘pre-sale’.
I just got confirmation on my seat assignment.
Pit Section
Row AA
(I’m not telling you which seats; army of web-stalkers).
That’s right, just like the great Bob Uecker
“I must be in the front row!” (How many times do you think I’ll use that line that night?)
Except I really am in the front row!
David Letterman had as his guest Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. Strangely, instead of the typical interview, they were playing a game that was a cross between miniature golf and soccer, which involved them scooting about on desk chairs while avoiding various obstacles and trying to kick golf balls (they each had their own) into sequentially numbered hole/basket/goals. This game was created by Jerry Lewis, who had appeared earlier to (somewhat comically, somewhat disturbingly) explain it.
As the two of them played the game Paul and the band accompanied the action with calliope “clown music” (I wish I knew the name of the tune; it’s instantly recognizable). They were neck and neck coming down toward the final goal when Dave grabbed the arm of CT’s chair with one hand then with his other hand reached into CT’s suit jacket pocket where there was an asthma inhaler which he discharged 6 or 7 times (as a diversion?)
This allowed Dave to kick the winning goal, whereupon he shouted “35 points!! In your face, Thomas!” (No, I have no idea how he arrived at the 35 point figure.)
What does this all mean?
It could just mean that I’m nuts; or it could simply indicate that when a medication cautions it may cause “vivid dreams” what they really mean is “weird-ass dreams”.
That’s not so much a side-effect as it is a ‘bonus’ in my book. I mean seriously, if you gotta have side effects, that’s not a bad one to get.
As of Monday, September 10th at 9AM; yours truly is on vacation.
Right now it’s “Vacation Stage I“:
Cooking yummy food, riding the bike(s), and eating yummy food.
Omelettes, rice pudding, and various pasta and Mexican dishes typically dominate the menu during this stage.
Friday afternoon kicks off “Vacation Stage II“:
Old Fashioned Days.
Live music, dangerous-looking carnival rides, arts and crafts, pedalboat rides, and surprizingly good fair food — representing many different cultures. You can have your funnel cakes and corn dogs, personally I’m a sucker for the Cajun booth;
- Red Beans and Rice
- Beignets
- Jambalaya
- Shrimp & Andouille Gumbo
- Crawfish etouffee
- Who knows, I might even snack on some gator on a stick!
Ayeee! That’s some fine eating! And the whole thing takes place literally a stones throw from my luxurious domicile.
Saturday night brings the Balloon Glow which really is the highlight of the event (not to diminish the fun of watching the constant stream of illegally parked cars being towed away just below my kitchen windows.) Ahhh…. Schadenfreude!
Sunday things wind down early but the delicious smells linger into the evening.
Monday will be a big ride day. I never get to ride on Monday!
Then Tuesday kicks off Vacation Stage III - The drive to Indianapolis to shower Mom, Aunt Donna, and my step-father with their extravagant and opulent birthday gifts. Then Wednesday we’ll have the big Adkins-approved meat feast and while everyone is recovering/relaxing and enjoying their new treasures, I’ll sneak in a bike ride.
Then it’s back home for Vacation Stage IV,
bracing myself for the return to work and apologising to Caldonia for leaving her alone for 2 whole days.
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., photo dated April 8, 1992.
Doug Elbinger, Elbinger Studios.
Another of the great ones has left us. Kurt Vonnegut has been a favorite (and hero) of mine since I first saw (but didn’t really understand) the movie “Slaughterhouse-Five” on late-night television as a kid. I’ve been reading and enjoying his books for over 25 years. I had resigned myself to the fact that there would be no “new” Vonnegut books back when he retired ~10 years ago. However, seeing him recently on
The Daily Show (promoting a new book!) rekindled my hopes that there might yet be
one more great Vonnegut masterpiece. Sadly that hope too is now gone.
The list of Mr. Vonnegut’s titles is a long one, here in no particular order (and by no means complete):
A Man without a Country (His latest, and one would presume, last)
Breakfast of Champions
Slaughterhouse-five
Cat’s Cradle
Deadeye Dick
Welcome to the Monkey House
Mother Night
Galapagos
God Bless You, Dr. Kervorkian
Fates Worse Than Death
Slapstick: Or Lonesome No More!
Player Piano
Jailbird
Bluebeard
Bagombo Snuff Box
God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Hocus Focus
Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons
Vonnegut Omnibus
Sun, Moon, Star
Timequake
The Sirens of Titan
Canary in a Cat House
This last one isn’t a Vonnegut book, per se, but a book about Mr. Vonnegut.
Kurt Vonnegut’s Crusade Or, How a Postmodern Harlequin Preached a New Kind of Humanism
I’ve read all but a couple of these. I suppose I need to fill in those blanks. Of course, several old favorites I don’t mind re-reading, time and again. Do us both a favor, click one of the links and buy the book from Amazon, thereby helping to feed my book/CD/DVD addiction while fueling your own.
Fare thee well, Mr. Vonnegut, fare thee well.
So, the park next to my house has (for the last several years) been over-run with “wild” Canada Geese. Over the past few years the city has tried a variety of solutions to drive these obnoxious feathered fecal factories away. First they put up loudspeakers which would periodically (day and night) broadcast a recorded goose alarm call. This was quite effective initially, but the geese eventually caught on and their ranks swelled once more (on a side note; it took longer for me than it did for the geese to realize the calls were pre-recorded. I spent many late-night hours wondering what had the geese so worked up).
Then they tried placing floating plastic crocodile heads in the “lagoon”. These seemed to have little or no effect on the geese, though they did make me giggle. (Crikey! That’s one big disembodied crocodile head!) Now the city is playing for keeps. They’ve enlisted the services of a company called “Goose Be Gone”. Specially trained border collies (with their handlers) will patrol the park five days a week for three months, theoretically driving the geese away for good.
Can geese count? I think it would be hysterical if the geese realized that the dogs were only there on weekdays and they returned en masse on the weekends. All I know is, I can’t wait for the goose-chasing dogs to arrive, that is going to be some first-rate free entertainment.
Click photo to enlarge
So, this weekend was Xenia’s annual “Old Fashioned Days” festival (not to be confused with
“Old Timers Days”, which is different; or with “Grumpy Old Bastard Days”, which I made up).
Every year the highlight of the festivities (for me, anyway) is the Balloon Glow. Well that and watching the illegally parked cars get towed away.
The best part is that all of this fun takes place literally a stone’s throw away from the homestead.
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