uncleamos: (Default)
The obvious song lyric of the night. After class (more on classes someday, maybe) I rushed off to Virginia to meet Marie at IOTA and see Erin McKeown. Rushing off was the first comedic error of the night, as I was under the impression that the venue was seated and would fill early, when neither of these were true. But we got to grab two of the very few bar seats, and the ones right by the stage. There was yummy food for good prices, and we got to watch set-up and sound checks. We had a copy of The Onion and stories to tell, and Marie had me to make fun of, and we had a good time.

The opening band, The Proclivities, was so-so but solid, and for the most part they improved as they went on.

Erin was fantastic, of course. It was a different show from her, as she played us "about 70%" of the songs from her not-yet-released album, which was pretty cool, and had some time left for older stuff. Apparently Erin is going through a rough patch, because we got some pretty emotional numbers, including breakup songs both old and new. There was also a little block of classics, including Rhode Island is Famous For You, White City, Blackbirds, and more. White City deserves special mention, because I requested it before the show. Erin started it with a warning that she didn't remember it all, and in the end it was the line "heights of greatness" that she had forgotten. After she asked for help, and I provided it, she obliterated the rest of the song, ending it by leading the entire audience in a surprisingly good three-part round using bits of it. It was beautiful.

The final fiasco occurred when I skipped the encore to get to what turned out to be the second to last train of the night. Doh! But it was a great night.

It occurs to me that I did not make a gratitude post this morning. Didn't even make it a week! Seriously though, I just didn't have time to post. These posts are half to maybe shape my day and half to have something to look back on (hence the tags), so there isn't necessarily a point to doing them just to do them. I will try to make gratitude posts when I can. Tonight I have two things, which are both pretty obvious:

Music. In my first year of law school I lost track of music a little, especially live music, because I was in a new place and meeting new people and a little overwhelmed. This year, I hope to continue the reversal of that trend.


Marie. Not really a lot to say here, except to point out that this was the Last Concert for the two of us before her departure. We will both go to lots of concerts in the future, maybe even together sometimes, but this is the immediate end of a series of excellent outings that have occurred on-and-off for two and a half years. So I am thankful for Marie, my concert companion, event suggester, tireless mocker, and dear friend.
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Went to Wolf Trap's Filene Center to see Great Big Sea and Eddie From Ohio. I had been looking forward to it all summer and it was So. Good.

Love those bands.

Love them live more.

Love seeing them with good friends best.

Was totally awesome.
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Went to Fort Reno, alone, but had a great time.

Title music is The Dismemberment Plan - this was the first time I'd gone to Fort Reno when they weren't playing. Sort of sad to not have Travis and his salmon-pink guitar. But the show was good anyway. (Just not as good, because what could be?)

It was raining when I left home, and I couldn't be sure there would even be a concert, so I took an umbrella instead of my camera. This ended up being a mistake, as it was gorgeous when I arrived. Blue skies, with a dark cloudbank to the west, a bright line of sunset along the top of it. The fields of the park were green and hilly, covered with grass and dogs and random trees. And looming over all of it the fort itself, artificial high ground built on the highest ground in D.C., built by, manned by, and apparently defended under fire by Federal troops in the Civil War. (Photo.) There will be other chances to take a camera.

The show was a lot of fun, and although I don't think there were more than 200 people watching they were an energetic crowd. The New Rock Church of Fire was roughly as bad as expected, sounding like a bad early 90's punk band. Evolution was a nice surprise, a three piece made up of middle school guys, but they had a consistent sound and very good vocals. A little lacking in songwriting, maybe, as they sounded like pure alt-rock, down to a cover of the Stone Temple Pilots. (Though, if you like the Stone Temple Pilots, it was a good cover - I don't. Olivia Mancini & the Housemates also included a cover song, but they covered the Talking Heads.) But they were young teenagers, and they could do well with a little bit of maturing.

Olivia Mancini & the Housemates, however, were fantastic. (Some of their songs are available for free here, if you are curious.) A five piece (!), they ranged from a very Erin McKeown sounding folk that under-used the backing instruments but sounded great to a much more, uh, mainstream indie sound (?), in which the music really roared out. And they had a trumpet! Reminded me of Jens Lekman, or Calexico. Olivia Mancini herself was adorable, rocking the confident nerd-girl look. (That's a compliment, in case she or anyone else is reading this!) Very skinny, shoulder length blond hair, pointy face, plastic glasses, and a denim dress. She had tremendous energy, leaping about the stage, jamming with band mates, tossing her hair everywhere. Later, during quieter pieces, the wind tossed it for her.

Definitely be on the lookout for these guys, they were great. I bought a CD.
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Went to Shamrock Fest '08 tonight. Was AWESOME! We got there late, and only caught the last two thirds of Carbon Leaf, but I was OK with that because I think they're a little uneven. We did catch 'Life Less Ordinary,' and their finale was an excellent rendition of 'The Boxer' with an extended instrumental intro featuring real Irish Dancers from a local dancing school. Awesome!

And then it was Great Big Sea time! So everyone always says that GBS is awesome live, and those who have not seen them live (poor souls!) all say that their albums sound so energetic, they must be amazing live. They are AMAZING live! They sang all of their stock sing-along songs, and a few others I knew, and a few I didn't know, and one off an album that is to be released this summer. 'Mari-Mac' was particularly impressive, as they sang the entire thing at at least 150% speed. They closed with 'Ordinary Day.'

But they were the last act of the night, so of course there had to be an encore. Alan did a little "do you mind if we bring a friend up" bit, and then brought up Russell Crowe. (Wikipedia tells me that they have played together before.) Crowe then took the lead guitar and vocals on an excellent cover of 'Folsom Prison Blues,' and the entire festival closed out with all of Great Big Sea, all of Carbon Leaf, AND Russell Crowe all on stage singing 'Molly Malone.' (Alan characterized it as 'the greatest modern song ever written.')

All that, for 18 bucks!!! And the weather was great to boot.

(Friends of mine have stills and video of the encore, which can be shared once I have them.)


Folsom Prison Blues: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fanTd8UByrE
Molly Malone: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UI3McqjPA0E

Near the end of both videos a guy waves a Newfoundland flag in front of the camera - I was standing about three people to that guy's left.
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What a night! Mark and I drove out to quaint Lancaster, PA to see the Old 97's. )

Mark and I agreed that we will probably never find ourselves back at the Chameleon, but I suspect that if we do it will be to see the Old 97's, because it was a show to remember.
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Mark and I went to see Erin McKeown at Upper Merion Park this evening. She was, as always, excellent and also highly adorable, although she could not resist making several King of Prussia jokes. I've seen a lot of live acts that bring as much energy to their playing as Erin does, but I don't think I've seen any that fill the stage from the first moment to the last the way her diminutive frame manages to. She's amazing.

(She closed her main set with a very rocking rendition of Blackbirds, which made me very happy.)

Driving home I was flipping through our various classic rock stations, singing and dancing along, when I started to think about when, exactly, I became interested in music. Up until the end of junior year of high school I listened only to talk shows on NPR (sometimes for an entire day at a time!), and senior year I listened to whatever alt/pop stations were playing in the car, but I never really got to love them. Although I did love our a cappella groups, which were awesome, as in at-least-as-good-as-Swat-awesome. But I think that I didn't start to seriously enjoy rock music until I came to college.

Freshman year, there were Jawaad, Dan, and Mark. Jawaad downloaded things onto my computer because he didn't have one, and so I was introduced to The Beastie Boys, which I didn't like very much, and Counting Crows, which I did, and do, like. Dan listened to a lot of Elvis Costello, which I am now belatedly appreciating, but I really got a lot out of the, uh, weirder people he listened to, such as Dan Bern and Stephen Malkmus. Then there was Mark, and while I didn't talk to him as much that year as every year since then, he went somewhat out of his way to introduce me to Josh Joplin and, drum roll please, Erin McKeown (see, I have this all planned out!), then in her Voices on the Verge period.

At the same time I did some work on my own, discovering REM late in my senior year of high school, The Who freshman year of college, and The Dismemberment Plan that same year when I wandered into their Olde Club show.

A post like this wouldn't be complete without Marie, of course, whose tastes probably merit the label "major influence," but I think it's clear that by the time we started hanging out a lot I was already into music. (For evidence I would point out that my four favorite bands, which I would not care to order thank you very much, are made up of the three in the previous paragraph, none of which she cares for, and Richard Thompson, who she introduced me to.)

And of course the dancing came from going to Paces parties with Jawaad, and from listening to the Dismemberment Plan pretty much ever. Er, such as said dancing is.

(The Dismemberment Plan is awesome.)

So is music.
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Yeah, that was Richard Thompson. (And Marie and people.)

Hopefully more will be said about it all, some day.
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We need them. Every night we would leave out the messiest and most annoying folders, and we would come back in the morning to find them finished. In exchange we would...bring cookies more often?

(I looked at Google, and I am entertained!)

So, when not ranting on livejournal, I have been leading a busy life. On Monday, Marie and I went to New York for what I termed the "blow-out finale" of roughly a year of doings lots of awesome things together, like going to concerts. (She is in State College this summer, I am in D.C. next fall. Both of us will meet new people and go on to live busy lives. It is very upsetting!) (OK, to be honest we are already conspiring to see a few people in Philly over the summer and at least one museum in D.C. sometime when we're both there, but still. Definitely the end of an era.) (Speaking of the summer, Mark has pointed me to the awesome XPN festival lineup.)

So on Monday we went to New York. Marie generously offered to drive, which was a damn good thing as there was no way we would have been able to Trenton shuffle our way home successfully. We got into the garage on 42nd Street at about ten to noon, and we proceeded to walk up 8th Avenue to Central Park. We sat and ate bagged lunches on those rocks just southwest of the playground, which was really nice. After lunch we strolled through the park, admiring birds and bridges and wishing that Marie had been able to bring her camera. (Explanation coming in a moment.)

We stopped in the Apple store on 5th Avenue, just to have been in it (the glass box is ugly because of the fasteners, but the glass elevator is awesome - sadly it was being repaired), and proceeded over to the Museum of Modern Art. In general I struggle in art museums, because I am much more interested in information than in aesthetics. I struggle more in Modern art museums, because, yeah. So it was really nice to go with Marie, who knows enough about modern art to tell me who an artist is/was, or if a particular piece is famous or not. I appreciated that a lot, but I still got frustrated a few times. At one point I was told that I was using my "ornery" voice!

The low point was when we stopped in the store afterward, and in the design shop across the street. Actually, that was when I was ornery. I mean, they had wall clocks for 175 dollars that were advertised as being "classic and functional." In other words, exactly like the ones you get in K-Mart except with a shiny aluminum frame instead of plastic! WASTE. It was the land of pretentious rich people, but Marie told me that I ought to appreciate good design. I suggested that good design was only good design if it was good enough to be produced in quantity - if it actually had a market niche. (Yes, I know, rich people are a market niche. Shush.) Marie demurred on the grounds that most people don't know good design if they see it and prefer what's familiar even if it sucks, which struck me as slightly elitist, but whatever. (I mean honestly. Collapsing plastic colanders? A folding plastic cutting board? Totally fads. Give me plain old metal and wood. Or charge me what that lump of plastic is actually worth, rather than ten times as much.)

After that, I was a little tense. Luckily, we found Underwood, and ambled down to Rockefeller Center and waited for Jillian. We then set out on a random journey to look for Argosy Book Store, which Finlay suggested was in the low 50s. We walked back and forth for a while, stopping at St. Bart's (so pretty!), and eventually called Jim, who looked it up and told us it was on 59th Street. Not having time to walk up there and also enjoy the bookstore, we instead followed Jim's directions to a Japanese bookstore on 49th, which was highly entertaining. They had scary art photographs of scary children, and they had instructions for wrapping babies.

We then headed west, and met Jawaad on 9th Avenue for wonderful Afghan food at a restaurant a friend of his suggested. It's always great to see Jawaad.

Then the fun began. Marie and I presented ourselves promptly at 7:00 at the Ed Sullivan Theater. (You know, CBS Radio Studio 3 / CBS-TV Studio 50 / the most famous room in the history of television if not of broadcasting?) What a building! First we had to stand in a long line to pick up the tickets that were being held for us. Then we had to stand in a line to have numbers scribbled on them. Then we had to walk around the corner to a backstage entrance to the Roseland Ballroom, where they lined us up by number and had us stand around for 45 minutes. (The Roseland is a very cool building. When I got home, I learned that my dad used to go to dances and concerts there, back in the 1950s!)

Then they marched us back to the studio, and into the famous room itself, where we sat in front of the Late Show set and watched Elvis Costello! The concert was apparently part of the Live Letterman series of webcasts, and it was only 45 minutes long, but it was free and it was in the Ed Sullivan Theater. It was also awesome. The band came out and played almost entirely non-stop, with Costello turning around and stamping out the time to the drummer so that the opening of the next song was roaring out even as the last chords of the guitar were still lingering. While I am not deep in the ways of Elvis Costello, I know enough that I recognized songs, unlike at the Tragically Hip show, which made listening to him pure fun. What impressed me most was how absolutely into it every member of the band was. They came together on stage much more energetically than even most good bands do.

Then it was time to flee New York. New York is fun, don't get me wrong, but I am very happy that I live in/near a city where I can walk down the street to the grocery without having to dodge all of humanity. Dodging all of humanity is fun, but only on a part-time basis. D.C. is quite like Philly in this respect, thankfully. But then, nowhere is quite like New York.

Yeah, we'll leave it at that. (There was gaming last night, and I was crushed in everything I attempted.)
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So as Marie has explained, we went to the TLA, and there were some Canadians. Lots and lots of Canadians, actually. More properly, there were metric fucktons of Canadians, and they were all out of their minds. It was quite an experience. I particularly enjoyed when the people to our right (two sisters and their husbands) inducted us into their "circle of trust," which was basically a conspiracy to crush the large number of people who wanted to push us out of our front row spots. This after the same women (who are in their 30s but tiny) pulled off perfect teenage girl impressions to try to get the security guy in front of us to let them dance on the speakers. ANYWAY.

In light of the Canadian episode of This American Life, this has gotten me thinking. You see, I don't think that the Tragically Hip are very good. There's no question that they're talented, and Gordon's on stage antics are highly amusing (if disgustingly sweaty), but their sound sort of blends into that of a million other indie bands who are good enough to go see live and listen to but not good enough to, say, travel a thousand miles to see, good enough to fill stadiums, or good enough to screech into my ear such that it takes 24 hours for my hearing to fully return. (This is no joke! The crowd noise was much more painful than the speakers!)

In the linked episode of TAL they bring up two interesting points. First, that at least some Canadians do feel if not an inferiority to the U.S., then at least the cultural weight of the U.S. Second, that a large number of talented and beloved musicians, actors, etc. here in the U.S. are Canadians. Like, I don't know, Neil Young, for example.

(Aside: They also have a great line: "If William Shatner is a Canadian, I'm a Canadian!")

Theory: While Canadians, like Americans, listen to and like all sorts of music from both sides of the border, they feel a (perfectly reasonable) need to claim some subset as "theirs," quite likely because so much is just assumed to be "ours." But if their best and brightest live and work here that makes it harder to claim them as theirs, even if they don't make an issue out of their nationality or adopted home. So you have to go to the second tier of Canadian talent to find a "Canadian" group.

A competing theory is that these Canadian fans are not drawn to the most talented "Canadian" entertainers, but rather to those who make an issue of being Canadian. On the other hand, I don't think that The Hip do that.

Final anecdote: When it was encore time, I joined the Canadians in chanting "Hip! Hip! Hip!" because crowds are infectious.

Marie: "Have you gone Canadian?!"

My brother, on the other hand, has gone Canadian. He got back from McGill while we were at the concert, and while he has not heard of the Tragically Hip, he appears to have picked up the habit of saying "eh?" in casual conversation. Tragic!
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I contend that being an asshole and a heartless bastard got me (relative) emotional independence and self-sufficiency.

You can tell me that I am fooling myself on this one, but I remain unconvinced that it was a bad trade.

In other news, we went to Sellersville and saw Alasdair Fraser & Natalie Haas with Iona opening, and it was great fun, even though we were a bit late and I was a bit tired. Even in bumblefuck, restaurants are crowded on Fridays. Oops.
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Here is a summary of a few posts:

And the rest

Other than Bridge, we had a nice night. GOD I HATE BRIDGE. Sorry, still dealing with that knowledge. Probing it, exploring it, welcoming it into me.

We went to Milkboy to see Ellipsis and a bunch of other people who were decent but perhaps a little too bland and/or poorly arranged in a very strange set. We also had a yummy home cooked meal at a rather late hour, and several more Trader Joe's potstickers than can possibly have been healthy.

After Marie went home, I stayed for a few minutes to talk about Philadelphia politics.


Hey, that's a great point

We should have some holiday cheer or something. It's like, Christmas. I love Christmas time and Christmas music.



And no, I'm not saying that people should have been supportive of my poor play, lo these many years. That wouldn't make any sense at all.

I'm saying that just like some people don't like 1830, and some people don't like Power Grid, and I don't like Civ, I don't like Bridge either. That's all. It's not your fault for making Bridge miserable. It's my fault for making myself miserable by playing Bridge.


And last

Lest someone accuse me of being two-faced in the long post above, let me say that I'm serious about the internet/real world thing. The post is only up to provoke thoughts. I would hope that my readers understand me well enough to appreciate that I can and possibly will have actual conversations on this subject with actual people.

I know that the people I would have said conversations with know this. This post will get people thinking, and keep me thinking rather than going to sleep and forgetting that I care, and it will be an improvement. They can start worrying when I start calling them.
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Gaming, bowling, concert, dinner, bridge night and general hanging out in Mertz.

What stories actually need telling?

Chris and I left the bowling alley in Devon at 7:20 for the 8:00 chorus concert. I mentioned to Chris that I have a philosophy of social activities. He guessed that it was "Do as much as possible."

He was close. It's actually "Drive fast, and do as much as you can." Driving fast is key.

Five minutes later we were blasting down 252 at 60, and in less than thirty minutes we were at Swat.

Concert was fun. John was moving. Marie's family were friendly. (I found them and said hi and talked briefly to Marie about bridge plans and after only a few minutes they had to rush off to Washington and I was left with the slightly guilty feeling that I had stolen their time with Marie. Or perhaps more properly her time with them.) The music was interesting, but I don't think I appreciated the Schoenberg enough. My theory is that as I have never sung a choral note, I have no ability to tell the difference between an easy note and a hard note. Having played in an orchestra, on the other hand, means that I can easily recognize a difficult or great orchestral performance.
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Was incredible. INCREDIBLE!!!

Possible actual content to follow, possibly.
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Today was a day of music. First Marie and I raided Tower Records. I got a copy of Monster (R.E.M.), because I've been wanting it, and a copy of Various Positions (Leonard Cohen), because it was cheap and Marie was about to put it back on the shelves.

Then we headed over to the First Unitarian Church, and oh my! We got there thirty minutes late, intentionally, and the doors were open! Yay! Whispertown 2000 was surprisingly good, for an opening opening band. Quite enjoyable. Then Margot & the Nuclear So and So's were, well, at the very least sort of awesome. They had an amazing dancing tambourine playing percussionist, who, well, Marie can probably describe better. She captures the salient details, when she posts. Anyway.

Then the Elected were fucking awesome. Just incredible. The crowd wanted "Greetings in Braille," and after some negotiation in which Blake pointed out that he had to write all the music and therefore was entitled to sing some of it and choose which songs to play, the band attempted to play it "different," because when we were offered "the same or different," "different spoke first."

This was a failure.

It was much more hard rocking than the version you're used to (link to file), and after trying to scream over the guitars while still hitting the right cadence, Blake was just like "I can't do this."

He recovered his dignity...er, tried to distract us, by grabbing a cell phone from someone in the front row and putting "Kathy" on speakerphone on his mike. This was also a failure, as Kathy had some trouble hearing him. Although wise voices suspect that "I love you Kathy" was still not a smart thing to say.

They they played "Greetings in Braille," and were awesome. Overall, it was, I think without doubt, the best concert we've been to. The Bowmans / Rasputina may have been good, but that was a shorter show in a more polite setting. This was just a super evening of constantly being surprised.

And Wednesday we're going to see Kris Delmhorst and Richard Thompson! My hope is that I will have to invent new obscenities to describe it.

The Elected finished an amazing, seemingly never-ending final song in time for us to get to my car five minutes before the garage closed, and then drop Marie at 30th St. five minutes before her train. I turned on the Hawk as I left 30th St., and "Pinball Wizard" was playing. Then "Pride (In the Name of Love)," "The Joker," something or other good, "You Give Love a Bad Name," and "Bad Company" (that's from the album Bad Company by the band Bad Company - no, it never gets old). And then, after fifteen minutes in the car, I was home. I totally won.

Tomorrow (or rather today) is election day. I'm voting the party line, and you should too.
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We made our updated presentation on St. Louis. I've totally forgotten to post anything about either version. Oh well.

I continue to read Six Frigates. Right now it's 1799, and we're at an especially happy place: war with France rather than England! (OK, "war," but still.)

After class I met Marie on South Street to see Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins. We wandered around, visiting Pearl Art Supplies and Whole Foods, and then we had burgers at Copabanana. We got to the TLA before the doors opened, and were rewarded by getting to lean against the stage for the next four hours. It was a fun concert, especially as I've been hankering to get to any concert for a long time. Comes from listening to Consequence Free too much. ("Wouldn't it be great, if the band just never ended?")

Marie has also posted concert-y comments, in ever so slightly more depth. This announcement provided for those of you who don't sit at kyree.lionsanctuary.net refreshing your browsers all day. Although, really, why don't you?

Marie drove me back to ME, and I got the 11:35 and was home at 12:15. I proceeded to waste an hour of sleep time reading things other people wrote, and generally making myself depressed. Stupid internet.

Right now I am in Van Pelt, trying to make myself work on my personal statement. Or perhaps trying to make myself NOT work on it. I suppose that in the case of the latter, the afternoon is a success so far.

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Ben: So, my girlfriend broke up with me over the weekend.
*Crowd boos*
Ben: It's, actually, it's OK. I'm doing all right. ... This song is actually about a different breakup, that happened a long time ago between different people. And, and it's about ... it's about that feeling you get ... when two people... (*pauses*) OK, I can't lie. It's about astrophysics.
*Crowd roars*
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Had a great time last night at bridge and then a concert. Afterwards it was late and hot, so I crashed in Marie's spare bed at Drexel. Contrary to warnings I had received, the dorm at Drexel is quite nice, or at least plenty nice enough, although this impression is probably aided by the fact that Marie has a double to herself.

Me: In ten minutes, I can be listening to Richard Thompson!
Marie: You're listening to Richard Thompson now.
Me: Right, and this means that I don't have to stay here and miss work in order to continue to do so.

Anyway, this is why I was not online last night. I will be catching up on e-mail and livejournal over the day.
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Went back to Sellersville last night with Marie, Mark, and Lisa to see Paul and Storm (30 minutes, mediocre) and The Bobs (105 minutes, excellent). We took a picnic, and the evening was marred only by large amounts of crankiness on the part of yours truly. And by Paul and Storm not being funny. Well, except for their first number (Opening Band).

I drove Marie all the way back to UCity afterwards, and was rewarded with home-made cookies and cupcakes.

Thanks to Lisa for handling the Wyndmoor-Sellersville-Wyndmoor legs of the trip. And of course Marie for suggesting it.
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I met Jawaad, Ed, and some of Jawaad's high school friends for chinese food, then Jawaad and I went on to see Bon Jovi at Citizen's Bank Park. (Lee gave me two tickets as the last minute yesterday - thanks Lee!)

Bon Jovi was playing after Nickleback (God help us), who were playing after some other band. We arrived at 8, but apparently the show had started earlier (6 or 7, I'm not sure). In the event, we took our seats as some marching band that has something to do with the Philadelphia Soul was processing up to the stage (I shit you not), followed within about two minutes by Bon Jovi. In other words, we missed the opening band(s). Sweet.

Bon Jovi came out flat, and I remarked to Jawaad that being seated hundreds of feet away (across a baseball field for goodness sake!), we had all of the problems of a concert (loud, uneven levels, etc.) and none of the benefits (being able to see the band, feel energy, etc.). We were bored, more or less.

But somewhere in the middle of their set Jon Bon Jovi took a break, and Richie Sambora took the lead for I'll Be There For You. That man is a god among guitarists. (He was also wearing a splendid floppy black hat with a long red bandana tied around it.) That started to stir up the crowd, and the band shortly played Who Says You Can't Go Home followed by It's My Life (recent hits for the younger set, I guess), and from then on they had the crowd. The rest of their set was mostly 80s, endless guitar solos (Richie Sambora is a God), and screaming fans. Jon Bon Jovi also showed a sudden and marked improvement in his efforts to engage the crowd. It was a lot of fun. After about an hour and forty minutes they wrapped up their set with Livin' On A Prayer, and we expected a short encore of some random song and Wanted Dead Or Alive (which was the only song we knew that they hadn't already played).

Instead, they played what was basically another set, including Bells of Freedom, Last Man Standing, a lot of random crap, and, of course, "our national anthem," Wanted Dead Or Alive.

When they finished, they had been playing for slightly over two hours and fifteen minutes. Not bad for free tickets.

On the way home, SEPTA people were fiddling with the wire stringing train in Suburban. Apparently there was something wrong with the diesel. They ended up shutting it down for the night and just leaving it on track 1. I watched for a while.
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Thanks for that, Miss Trixie.

Anyway, drove up to Sellersville to see Rasputina with Mar* and Kit. Was excellent. The opening act was The Bowmans, in which Sarah Bowman (second cello for Rasputina) and her sister Claire sing folkish music. They were quite good, certainly the first decent opening act we've seen, but they need more time to gain confidence and polish. We purchased CDs. You can hear their CD at their website.

Rasputina was, unsurprisingly, excellent, surreal, hard rocking, and insane, all at once. Not much else to bother typing, but it was a good show. Oh, and we ran into Mike and his wife (Leslie?) from grown up gaming. Awesome.

We had a great dinner before the show, and a highly silly several hours. While waiting at Wyndmoor to put the girls on an inbound train, I decided that I ought to be the host of a nature show, and make observations about the behavior of the wild Mar*. This could be a meme, at least until I am brutally murdered.
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