This holiday season, I have asked local music special people to share the tale of their year with you, the readers. I don’t know about you, but I want to know about more than just the top records, I also want to know about real life, too. That, and the top records.
CHEYENNE MARIE MIZE, violinist/vocalist, Maiden Radio
Best year yet. 2010 brought me more good things than I ever expected or probably deserve. Much mending and moving forward. It seemed like 2009 was a really bizarre year for everyone I know. But 2010 made up for it. It must have something to do with the planets and stars or something...
The music closest to me tends to stick with me the most. Some folks I've had the honor to work with this year who are totally inspiring and the go-tos in my collection: Doug Paisley - Dark Hand & Lamplight, or his new one Constant Companion; Ólöf Arnalds - Innundir Skinni; Vandaveer - A Minor Spell; Johnny Flynn - Been Listening; Wax Fang - "The Astronaut (Part 1)".
I'm expecting 2011 to be even better.
PATRICK HALLAHAN, drummer, My Morning Jacket
2010 has been a very restorative year for me. Amidst a few macro let downs, the micro has been truly wholesome, and I couldn't ask for anything more. I feel like I've learned more in the past 365 than I have in the whole dance leading up to this moment. And it's good.
I have to start off with the relationship I have with my wife, Brigid. We've been married close to 7 years, been together for over 10, and we've spent a good portion of that time in different cities. Every time I leave for tour, we learn how to live on our own. And just when that makes sense, I come back and we have to learn how to live together again. It's a confusing existence, and it will try your every fiber. BUT, it's made us stronger. 2010 is a year I can say that, just when I think we can't get any closer or make any more sense, we do. If I could give thanks for anything at this year's end, it's that the love of my life is also my best friend.
In addition to a wonderful nucleus at home, I have a fantastic nucleus abroad (also home). 2010 is a year I can say my band mates and I have a complete understanding of one another. We've been blessed with a positive relationship for many years, but for whatever reason 2010 has been a year of total acceptance and cohesion. I very much enjoy playing music with these guys, but it's gotten to the point that when a tour ends or the recording session is over, I genuinely miss being with them. Tom, Carl, Bo, and Jim are amazing, compassionate people, and I am forever thankful that we get to do what we do.
Onward....music. 2010 has been a year of rediscovery vs. discovery. Maybe it was spawned by packing up and moving to a new house, but I've spent a lot of time going back over things that I usually pass by because I've "already had a moment" with them. Pavement. The Beatles. The Jesus Lizard. The Flaming Lips. Fleetwood Mac. Slayer. Simon and Garfunkel. NWA. Rodan. Elton John. I don't know... things that, for whatever reason, I see the name and usually pass because I know how if feels to listen to them. But I was wrong. More life leads to more perspective, and these bands and albums I've so foolishly labeled as "understood" have peeled back my brain once again. Absolute masterpieces.
SCOTT CARNEY, guitarist/vocalist, Wax Fang
This year was both a blast and a blur. I've been busier and more productive this year than any other. I went to Europe for the first time. Played some amazing shows with some amazing people and saw some great bands play. Directed a music video, along with Ryan Daly of the Louisville Film Society, for the band Dead Confederate. And spent the rest of my free time working on the various future releases of Wax Fang. Yep, that's about it.
I really dig the newest Beach House record, Teen Dream. I saw them play in England. They were fantastic. Other than that, the Sparklehorse/Danger Mouse record, Dark Night of the Soul, had some great tunes on it as well, as did the new MGMT double LP, Congratulations.
JOHNNY BERRY, vocalist/bassist, Johnny Berry and the Outliers
Musically, 2010 was a tough year for me. I had a new CD, but it never really got any legs. I also went to book a tour on the East Coast that fell through, they said I wasn’t ‘country enough’. Can you believe that s**t! Yet these very same East Coast urban country music experts, the learned ignorant if you will, will listen to the stupidest lyrics as long as some joker pretended he was Hank Williams while singing them. I was turned down for many showcases and events by several different organizations throughout the year. I guess I’m not cool or hip enough.
With all that said, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I realize what a finicky bunch of know-nothings run the music business and basically everything else. We, as in the American proletariat ‘we’, are screwed. Hell with it. I am now working towards a degree, my children are happy and healthy and I’ll keep on writing and singing songs. I have also begun playing the pedal steel guitar, which is a lot of fun.
I have no idea what my favorite music of the year is. I’ve been listening to truck driver compilation albums, the Wizard of Oz soundtrack and James Brown records from the ‘60′s.
WILLIAM BENTON, guitarist, The Phantom Family Halo
I joined The Phantom Family Halo at the end of 2009, only a couple of weeks before (drummer) Tony (Bailey) passed away. My first tour with them was in December, so I began 2010 with a great surge of energy, being able to write, perform, record and tour with a band that I have always liked very much.
I finally got to see the Louisville installment of "Burn to Shine", shot in 2005. I had always said that if it didn’t come out within a year of it being shot that it would be much cooler to see many years down the line.
The premiere was a great night filled with many friends new and old. The evening opened with incredible and moving performances by Liberation Prophecy, Rachel Grimes, and Bonnie "Prince" Billy with Cairo Gang. Bonnie and Cairo’s set filled the Bomhard theater with no microphones, no P.A., and ranks highly among favorite musical performances I have had the good fortune to witness.
After many years of amazing experiences and many recordings and performances that I am very proud of, I decided that it was time to bow out of Lucky Pineapple. It was the usual circumstances of creative differences but coupled with the logistical difficulties of nine people convening in rural Indiana as often as that band needs to.
Perhaps the most depressing bit of 2010 was that it marked the end of my relatively short marriage. It was long discussed and eventually decided that our worlds were changing and that this was the best decision. We had been "together" for a long time but married less than two years. Oh well. These things happen.
It was the most diplomatic break-up I have ever experienced. I was very lucky.
Dom, of The Phantom Family Halo, moved to Brooklyn and asked me to as well to continue with the band. Between my leaving Lucky Pineapple and being single again, it sounded like a great and exciting idea - so I agreed.
Currently, I am saving money and hoping to head that way in the new year. I hope I can make it.
Favorite albums of 2010:
Gil Scott-Heron - I’m New Here; Grinderman - Grinderman 2; Swans - My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky; Devo - Something for Everybody; Syl Johnson - Complete Mythology; Shipping News - One Less Heartless to Fear; Hank Williams - The Complete Mother’s Best Recordings; Gorillaz - Plastic Beach; The Black Heart Procession - Six; Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and the Cairo Gang - The Wonder Show of the World
CARRIE NEUMAYER, guitarist/vocalist, Second Story Man
My year was pretty great. I turned 30, traveled around in Turkey, got a new job teaching high school photography, became a dog owner and got engaged. This might be my favorite year I’ve ever had.
Musically, I recorded a new album with Minnow called Hello Hubris. Sadly, we released the album on the same day, November 20th, that we played our last show. Also, Second Story Man lost a band member (bass player Justin Davis left to spend more time with his family and pursue other musical endeavours) but we’ve continued working on writing new material and practicing with our awesome new band member Mike Snowden. We have some cool projects planned for 2011- looking forward to it.
Favorite albums of 2010:
Quasi - American Gong: probably played on repeat more than any other records I bought this year.
Thao with the Get Down Stay Down - Know Better, Learn Faster: Technically came out in 2009, but I discovered them this year.
Superchunk - Majesty Shredding
Versus - On the Ones and Threes
Coliseum - House With a Curse
Beach House - Teen Dream
Shipping News - One Less Heartless to Fear
Stooges Brass Band - It’s About Time (2003) I saw this band in New Orleans at a crowded little bar. Watching the performance and being a part of the crowd was one of most joyous, rowdy, exciting music experiences I’ve had since I started going to punk rock shows.
JEFFREY SMITH, publicist, Crash Avenue
I have to say that 2K10 has been a pretty great year! I'll ultimately mark this year as the year that everything came together. The personal life, the professional life... both firing full-bore! I've been extraordinarily focused on shifting the definition of success and what it means to truly sustain that success within my industry. Honestly, I can say that about my personal life as well. Adulthood has never felt better than in 2010.
I've expanded my management roster this year to include two new magnificently talented human beings: Ms. Cheyenne Marie Mize (from right here in Louisville) and J. Irvin Dally (from Los Angeles)... all while preparing for a new Ben Sollee album for release in May 2011.
In no particular order - and excluding my client's albums... ‘cause they already know I love them!
Kitten - Sunday School
Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
Sleigh Bells - Treats
Gonjasufi - A Sufi and a Killer
Everything Everything - Man Alive
No Joy - Ghost Blonde
Warpaint - The Fool
JASON NOBLE, guitarist/vocalist, Shipping News
This year was probably the most intense year I can remember - but also one of the most interesting, challenging and inspiring. My wife, Kristin, and I have have been learning how to handle my health issues and it feels like simple things have taken on a certain glow (for lack of a better word). We've felt more excited about life (in whatever circumstance) than I can ever remember. Having time to return to creative projects in the last few months with Shipping News and The Young Scamels has been a real spirit-lifter. Kristin and I have been humbled and amazed by the generosity of the creative people in the Louisville music and art community (and the benefit concerts they organized to help us). Production Simple & ear X-tacy records have also helped us immensely. It's been a very harsh year, with oil spills, multiple wars, a rancorous election cycle and several of the worst natural disasters in history - so, it seems important to remember the thousands who are in very difficult circumstances.
Hopefully 2011 will be a little more peaceful. We could all do more to make that a reality.
For pure enjoyment... we've enthusiastically followed several bands this year. It's been a fantastic time for music and film and theater. Not to be too cheesy, but - it's incredible how powerful music can be - especially if you step back and really open yourself to it - if you can look outside of certain biases or assumptions about style or genre. Here's a very rough "top ten" list and then several very honorable mentions...
Shannonwright - Secret Blood
Parlour - Simulacrenfield
Big Boi - Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
Massive Attack - Heligoland
Coliseum - House With A Curse
Wax Fang - "The Astronaut (Part 1)"
Frontier(s) - There Will Be No Miracles Here
Cerebellum - Cerebellum LP reissue
Various - RISE: A Louisville Lip Records Tribute to Kinghorse
Chime Hours - Chime Hours EP
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Column #25: What does the future hold for Ear X-tacy?
I recently found a book called “Louisville Savoir Fair,” which billed itself as “a discriminating guide to the city's best shops, boutiques, restaurants, unique services and attractions.” Given that it was published in 1984, there is no Ear X-tacy to be found here; the section “Music and Home Amusement” only has one entry, Wilder Electronics in St. Matthews, which then sold stereo equipment “from well-known manufacturers such as Sony, Fischer, RCA, Zenith, Sanyo and Quasar.”
If that's not enough to make you think about how much has changed, the top restaurants listed included Casa Grisanti, Sixth Avenue and Kaelin's. Today, we have so many wonderful restaurants that if three of the best were to close, it would be a shame, but no one would be denied a special meal.
Last month, I attended a record release event. The band, Shipping News, had long recorded for the independent Touch and Go Records until the label, a mainstay of indie music since 1981, announced in early 2009 that it would no longer release new music.
The band's new album was recorded mostly at Skull Alley, an all-ages venue downtown that will soon close its doors after less than three years in business. On the way to the event, I also passed by Highland Records, which has now closed.
The host of the release party was Ear X-tacy, the record store that has been the center of the local music community since 1985, and twice this year has urgently asked Louisvillians to spend more money to keep it from closing.
Store owner John Timmons' pleas, which have been met with a combination of support and derision, demand, if nothing else, that we think more about the role that Ear X-tacy plays in this community and what future it should have — if any. (Disclosure: I once worked at Ear X-tacy.)
We still have a good independent record store in Underground Sounds, but it is much smaller and unable to host free performances by the likes of My Morning Jacket, The Secret Sisters and The Del McCoury Band. Though it has a more carefully curated selection, it doesn't have nearly as much product as Ear X-tacy. Nor does it have nearly as many staffers with knowledge and opinions about a wide range of culture. While doing so saves Underground Sounds thousands of dollars in expenses each month, it also makes it less of a central meeting point for the greater community.
Still, we've existed relatively happily for a few years now with only Carmichael's Books. Does this community also need another, bigger shop like Hawley-Cooke, which was absorbed into the Borders chain? At least there are no major music retail chains left that directly challenge Ear X-tacy; that victory has been won by iTunes, illegal downloading and big-box stores like Walmart.
Do we need a store like Ear X-tacy to exist as a community center? The radio station WFPK offers “Live Lunch” and summer concerts, which provide a social scene as much as a free show. We have festivals of varying quality. And 21c museum hotel offers a stream of art, music, food and drinks. So the teens who loitered outside of Ear X-tacy now annoy people outside Qdoba instead.
Some want to designate the Twig & Leaf diner a historic location. One mistake made by Ear X-tacy was in moving five times and never establishing an iconic location. Which business deserves protection more? Meanwhile, shouldn't we also be considering protection for the Louisville Orchestra?
If our city's leaders want to point to symbols of our city's awesomeness, do they need to do something to keep them viable?
The local radio and concert business will see a negative effect if Ear X-tacy disappears. Perhaps WFPK could host a pledge drive, and truly make Ear X-tacy the people's store. Perhaps it needs to merge with another business threatened by technology, like a book shop or video store.
There are many empty storefronts downtown that would welcome such a tenant. Perhaps it will take Ear X-tacy merging with one of the area's plentiful wig stores to keep it alive.
C. 2010 Velocity Weekly
If that's not enough to make you think about how much has changed, the top restaurants listed included Casa Grisanti, Sixth Avenue and Kaelin's. Today, we have so many wonderful restaurants that if three of the best were to close, it would be a shame, but no one would be denied a special meal.
Last month, I attended a record release event. The band, Shipping News, had long recorded for the independent Touch and Go Records until the label, a mainstay of indie music since 1981, announced in early 2009 that it would no longer release new music.
The band's new album was recorded mostly at Skull Alley, an all-ages venue downtown that will soon close its doors after less than three years in business. On the way to the event, I also passed by Highland Records, which has now closed.
The host of the release party was Ear X-tacy, the record store that has been the center of the local music community since 1985, and twice this year has urgently asked Louisvillians to spend more money to keep it from closing.
Store owner John Timmons' pleas, which have been met with a combination of support and derision, demand, if nothing else, that we think more about the role that Ear X-tacy plays in this community and what future it should have — if any. (Disclosure: I once worked at Ear X-tacy.)
We still have a good independent record store in Underground Sounds, but it is much smaller and unable to host free performances by the likes of My Morning Jacket, The Secret Sisters and The Del McCoury Band. Though it has a more carefully curated selection, it doesn't have nearly as much product as Ear X-tacy. Nor does it have nearly as many staffers with knowledge and opinions about a wide range of culture. While doing so saves Underground Sounds thousands of dollars in expenses each month, it also makes it less of a central meeting point for the greater community.
Still, we've existed relatively happily for a few years now with only Carmichael's Books. Does this community also need another, bigger shop like Hawley-Cooke, which was absorbed into the Borders chain? At least there are no major music retail chains left that directly challenge Ear X-tacy; that victory has been won by iTunes, illegal downloading and big-box stores like Walmart.
Do we need a store like Ear X-tacy to exist as a community center? The radio station WFPK offers “Live Lunch” and summer concerts, which provide a social scene as much as a free show. We have festivals of varying quality. And 21c museum hotel offers a stream of art, music, food and drinks. So the teens who loitered outside of Ear X-tacy now annoy people outside Qdoba instead.
Some want to designate the Twig & Leaf diner a historic location. One mistake made by Ear X-tacy was in moving five times and never establishing an iconic location. Which business deserves protection more? Meanwhile, shouldn't we also be considering protection for the Louisville Orchestra?
If our city's leaders want to point to symbols of our city's awesomeness, do they need to do something to keep them viable?
The local radio and concert business will see a negative effect if Ear X-tacy disappears. Perhaps WFPK could host a pledge drive, and truly make Ear X-tacy the people's store. Perhaps it needs to merge with another business threatened by technology, like a book shop or video store.
There are many empty storefronts downtown that would welcome such a tenant. Perhaps it will take Ear X-tacy merging with one of the area's plentiful wig stores to keep it alive.
C. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Holiday Gift Guide 2010
Among the many joys of Louisville life is how small, and efficient, our community is when it comes to commuting. What can take an hour in Chicago takes five minutes here, and I'm beyond thankful for that. Time is money, after all, and the holiday shopping season is when we need even more of both.
On a recent afternoon, my shopping took me from the revitalized New Albany downtown to the west side of downtown Louisville, and then on to Butchertown's one-stop shopping mecca. The drive from point A to point C is only 15 minutes, so I had plenty of time left over to look around some fun, surprising, local shops.
My adventure began at Destinations Booksellers (604 E. Spring St.), where Randy Smith suggested a pair of interesting reads. Bill Bryson's "At Home: A Short History of Private Life" ($28.95), said Smith, "has a universal appeal. It's the history of the things that we live around, the rooms we live in, full of anecdotes and trivia about - for example - How did we start eating in dining rooms? It's good for anyone, 18 to 80."
On a more focused note, Smith guessed that "Daily Show" contributor Lewis Black's new, caustic collection, "I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas" ($19.95), in which the comedian gleefully attacks all things holiday-related, would appeal to the alt-weekly set.
"I think a lot of the 'Daily Show' fans would enjoy this. It's the follow-up to his book, 'Me of Little Faith'."
That might be good for your college-aged brother, but your hip niece who reminds you of "Juno" would prefer something handmade from The Dandy Lion (310 Bank St.). Co-owner Katy Traughber goes straight to a collection of prints by artist Matt Cipov.
"I think these are amazing. I love 'em because I feel like they're really playful. I can see a guy or a girl hanging these. I haven't seen anything like this in this area yet. I kinda like the creepiness about it, too."
Both boys and girls have those times when they want to drink a little drank, but aren't supposed to. For those times, Traughber recommends any one of their various flasks, and agrees with my manly selection of one in particular: "I like the skull flask, it's got moth wings on the back. It's also got a little bit of Art Deco."
The new DL has another new neighbor within walking distance. Michelle Byrne recently opened Creative Handmade Arts Boutique (302 Pearl St.) with her husband Billy.
Billy makes some eye-catching wine bottle toppers ($25), for those of us who need to drink even more when the family's around. Michelle explains that it's the detailing that helps their toppers stand out. "He uses mainly exotic woods from South America, like walnut."
Keeping it in the family, Michelle also recommends the "Dusk to Dawn" soy candles ($16). "The soy candles are really popular. They're really creamy. My sister-in-law makes them, she's local. They're all-natural, they don't leave black soot on your walls! When the wax has burned, you can actually use the lotion as a moisturizer."
There's even more to see in downtown New Albany these days, but I'm on a mission, because this magazine loves all of Kentuckiana equally, and it's downtown Louisville's chance to impress me.
Glassworks (815 W. Market St.) is known for their glassblowing, event spaces and awe-inspiring lofts. I also know them because their gift shop has helped me buy presents for Mom through the years.
Sherry Daws turns me on to some fused glass cufflinks ($32), which are more for Dad, but hey, he needs presents, too, right?
"They're created with Dichroic glass, which was patented by NASA. When you look at it from different directions, it changes colors. A very reasonable price, and very sparkly. You'll look very special when you wear them!"
You can't leave the Glassworks gift shop without finding something that you need by the new, exclusive Glassworks Home Collection. I selected an assortment of Ball Stemware ($67.50). Daws notes, "They come in such a nice assortment of colors. Their nice jewel tones complement any decor. They're long and they're elegant, and they're crafted here at Glassworks."
More family gifts in tow, I turn around the corner, where the Frazier International History Museum (829 W. Main St.) also offers a full-scale gift shop, in addition to their more obvious attributes.
Krista McHone helps me pick out a pair of gifts for the young and young-at-heart. An LED 3D puzzle ($20.99) is fun, and educational, for boys and girls.
"In the LED series, we have Statue of Liberty, Big Ben, Tower of Pisa, Empire State Building and the White House. You light 'em up and they'll twinkle. We've got a huge Eiffel Tower one, also. I looove those. They're fairly easy to put together, too."
My wife loves three-dimensional wall art, so I pick up a cardboard Bison "trophy" ( Small - $16.99, Medium - $29.99, Large - $54.99), which is like crafty, animal-cruelty-free taxidermy. "We have brown or white cardboard, and it's also available in Buffalo, Elephant, Deer, Rhino and Moose."
We already have the deer and the buffalo at home, so I pack up my new Bison buddy and head on down the road.
Inside the Butchertown Market (1201 Story Ave.), the porcine smells of the neighbors (The JBS Swift plant, The Blind Pig restaurant) disappear, as you're transported to an overseas-style bazaar.
In Canoe Textiles, it's hard to choose between all the unique rugs, jewelry and other hard-to-find items. Kelli Wicking points me to the scarves ($118). "All of our scarves are hand-done, and this is a lightweight cashmere scarf. It's great for the winter, it will keep you warm - but it's also such a light weight that it can be worn into the spring. These are all vegetable-dyed, as well, so the colors are really vibrant. We have a large variety of them."
Another option is a Kilim wallet ($50). "This is made in Turkey. It's leather. Killims are flat weave rugs, so these are made out of the rug remnants."
In an adjoining pair of rooms, Work the Metal is busy, and my visit fell on a Monday, when I expected it would be quieter.
My sister-in-law has never met a fleur-de-lis she didn't love, and Jack Mathis is happy to show me some locally-centric items.
A coaster set (a set of 4 for $19) "is made locally, it sells really well. It's made with marble, and it's screen-printed. It has a fleur-de-lis and says, 'Louisville.' Some of them just say have a fleur-de-lis, with no words. It's a really affordable gift. They come in about 20 different designs."
I'm concerned that I don't have enough drinking paraphernalia, so I'm glad to see an aluminum ice bucket with a scoop ($30 and $10). "It's not local," warns Mathis, "but it represents Louisville with the fleur-de-lis. A lot of people will pair it with this ice scoop. That's a great gift, a good hostess gift, wedding present gift..."
Visitors to Work the Metal can now also check out the new storefront of Cellar Door Chocolates, where Erika Chavez-Graziano has found space to not only make but also sell her treats. Best of all, she's generous with handing out samples.
I can't think of a better way to reward myself, after doing so much shopping for others (and, OK, maybe a bit for myself, too). Chavez-Graziano tells me that I have to try her white chocolate pretzels ($5 for a quarter pound). "They have Christmas designs, and they are wildly popular during Christmas!"
A variety pack "is always a good hostess gift. It's good to leave in your guest room. It's one of our best sellers. They come in 5, 6 or 7 pieces." (5 piece is $6, 6 piece is $7 and the 7 piece is $8.)
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
On a recent afternoon, my shopping took me from the revitalized New Albany downtown to the west side of downtown Louisville, and then on to Butchertown's one-stop shopping mecca. The drive from point A to point C is only 15 minutes, so I had plenty of time left over to look around some fun, surprising, local shops.
My adventure began at Destinations Booksellers (604 E. Spring St.), where Randy Smith suggested a pair of interesting reads. Bill Bryson's "At Home: A Short History of Private Life" ($28.95), said Smith, "has a universal appeal. It's the history of the things that we live around, the rooms we live in, full of anecdotes and trivia about - for example - How did we start eating in dining rooms? It's good for anyone, 18 to 80."
On a more focused note, Smith guessed that "Daily Show" contributor Lewis Black's new, caustic collection, "I'm Dreaming of a Black Christmas" ($19.95), in which the comedian gleefully attacks all things holiday-related, would appeal to the alt-weekly set.
"I think a lot of the 'Daily Show' fans would enjoy this. It's the follow-up to his book, 'Me of Little Faith'."
That might be good for your college-aged brother, but your hip niece who reminds you of "Juno" would prefer something handmade from The Dandy Lion (310 Bank St.). Co-owner Katy Traughber goes straight to a collection of prints by artist Matt Cipov.
"I think these are amazing. I love 'em because I feel like they're really playful. I can see a guy or a girl hanging these. I haven't seen anything like this in this area yet. I kinda like the creepiness about it, too."
Both boys and girls have those times when they want to drink a little drank, but aren't supposed to. For those times, Traughber recommends any one of their various flasks, and agrees with my manly selection of one in particular: "I like the skull flask, it's got moth wings on the back. It's also got a little bit of Art Deco."
The new DL has another new neighbor within walking distance. Michelle Byrne recently opened Creative Handmade Arts Boutique (302 Pearl St.) with her husband Billy.
Billy makes some eye-catching wine bottle toppers ($25), for those of us who need to drink even more when the family's around. Michelle explains that it's the detailing that helps their toppers stand out. "He uses mainly exotic woods from South America, like walnut."
Keeping it in the family, Michelle also recommends the "Dusk to Dawn" soy candles ($16). "The soy candles are really popular. They're really creamy. My sister-in-law makes them, she's local. They're all-natural, they don't leave black soot on your walls! When the wax has burned, you can actually use the lotion as a moisturizer."
There's even more to see in downtown New Albany these days, but I'm on a mission, because this magazine loves all of Kentuckiana equally, and it's downtown Louisville's chance to impress me.
Glassworks (815 W. Market St.) is known for their glassblowing, event spaces and awe-inspiring lofts. I also know them because their gift shop has helped me buy presents for Mom through the years.
Sherry Daws turns me on to some fused glass cufflinks ($32), which are more for Dad, but hey, he needs presents, too, right?
"They're created with Dichroic glass, which was patented by NASA. When you look at it from different directions, it changes colors. A very reasonable price, and very sparkly. You'll look very special when you wear them!"
You can't leave the Glassworks gift shop without finding something that you need by the new, exclusive Glassworks Home Collection. I selected an assortment of Ball Stemware ($67.50). Daws notes, "They come in such a nice assortment of colors. Their nice jewel tones complement any decor. They're long and they're elegant, and they're crafted here at Glassworks."
More family gifts in tow, I turn around the corner, where the Frazier International History Museum (829 W. Main St.) also offers a full-scale gift shop, in addition to their more obvious attributes.
Krista McHone helps me pick out a pair of gifts for the young and young-at-heart. An LED 3D puzzle ($20.99) is fun, and educational, for boys and girls.
"In the LED series, we have Statue of Liberty, Big Ben, Tower of Pisa, Empire State Building and the White House. You light 'em up and they'll twinkle. We've got a huge Eiffel Tower one, also. I looove those. They're fairly easy to put together, too."
My wife loves three-dimensional wall art, so I pick up a cardboard Bison "trophy" ( Small - $16.99, Medium - $29.99, Large - $54.99), which is like crafty, animal-cruelty-free taxidermy. "We have brown or white cardboard, and it's also available in Buffalo, Elephant, Deer, Rhino and Moose."
We already have the deer and the buffalo at home, so I pack up my new Bison buddy and head on down the road.
Inside the Butchertown Market (1201 Story Ave.), the porcine smells of the neighbors (The JBS Swift plant, The Blind Pig restaurant) disappear, as you're transported to an overseas-style bazaar.
In Canoe Textiles, it's hard to choose between all the unique rugs, jewelry and other hard-to-find items. Kelli Wicking points me to the scarves ($118). "All of our scarves are hand-done, and this is a lightweight cashmere scarf. It's great for the winter, it will keep you warm - but it's also such a light weight that it can be worn into the spring. These are all vegetable-dyed, as well, so the colors are really vibrant. We have a large variety of them."
Another option is a Kilim wallet ($50). "This is made in Turkey. It's leather. Killims are flat weave rugs, so these are made out of the rug remnants."
In an adjoining pair of rooms, Work the Metal is busy, and my visit fell on a Monday, when I expected it would be quieter.
My sister-in-law has never met a fleur-de-lis she didn't love, and Jack Mathis is happy to show me some locally-centric items.
A coaster set (a set of 4 for $19) "is made locally, it sells really well. It's made with marble, and it's screen-printed. It has a fleur-de-lis and says, 'Louisville.' Some of them just say have a fleur-de-lis, with no words. It's a really affordable gift. They come in about 20 different designs."
I'm concerned that I don't have enough drinking paraphernalia, so I'm glad to see an aluminum ice bucket with a scoop ($30 and $10). "It's not local," warns Mathis, "but it represents Louisville with the fleur-de-lis. A lot of people will pair it with this ice scoop. That's a great gift, a good hostess gift, wedding present gift..."
Visitors to Work the Metal can now also check out the new storefront of Cellar Door Chocolates, where Erika Chavez-Graziano has found space to not only make but also sell her treats. Best of all, she's generous with handing out samples.
I can't think of a better way to reward myself, after doing so much shopping for others (and, OK, maybe a bit for myself, too). Chavez-Graziano tells me that I have to try her white chocolate pretzels ($5 for a quarter pound). "They have Christmas designs, and they are wildly popular during Christmas!"
A variety pack "is always a good hostess gift. It's good to leave in your guest room. It's one of our best sellers. They come in 5, 6 or 7 pieces." (5 piece is $6, 6 piece is $7 and the 7 piece is $8.)
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Column #24: I always shop local, except when I don't
Congratulations, fellow residents of the hottest city in the country. It’s Thanksgiving, it’s cold, and it’s about time we started thinking about buying dumb, useless presents for those friends, relatives and coworkers whom we don’t care much about or know very well.
Regular readers hopefully think of me as a proud and fervent supporter of all things local, independent, handmade, ethical, fair trade, organic and/or Socialist. Despite our recent election results, I am still Kentucky Proud, and have not yet applied for French citizenship.
There’s little than can excite me faster than a market full of cheeses grown by old hippie ladies, earrings depicting a child literally hugging a tree, and soaps made with hemp drained from Willie Nelson’s beard.
I hope that, during this year’s sprint of mindless consumerism and consumption, we can agree that there are many reasons why we should all be making gifts, or discovering them at one of the locally-owned boutiques around town that do so much to keep Louisville weird or, at least, less dull.
Recently, shops like The Green Haus, Acorn, Hey Tiger, Revelry, Consider and Creative have joined proven favorites The Makery, WHY Louisville, Dot Fox, Cherry Bomb, Ultra Pop and Work the Metal. We now have a Dandelion and a The Dandy Lion. We have two Regalos, and now we also have a Rigolo.
I also love our grand antique malls, home design shops and used bookstores.
So, should I be troubled by my growing awareness that there are some corporate chains whose goods I find equally desirable?
These chains fall into two categories: clothing or food. These are also categories that fall into the life-or-death section; though, if you asked me what my essential needs where, I’d probably list books, vinyl records and paintings of angry clowns before stopping to think that, well, no, those aren’t technically essential needs.
When it comes to clothing, it can be tough, in a town this size, to find clothes that I can call comfortable, relatively stylish, and affordable. When I lived in bigger cities, I was able to stock my drawers with thrift and vintage store finds. Not only is that tougher here, but, at 36, I also have to deal with the fact that some of my past choices are no longer quite so age-appropriate.
(As I age, I’ve realized that I’ll never be old enough for my older relatives. To them, I will always be 8. Anyone under 20, however, already seems to think that I’m “old”, 40 or 50, and “so weird.”)
So, to solve my essential clothing needs, I have found myself augmenting my locally handmade organic clothes with items from Banana Republic, The Gap and J. Crew. I have found clothing at Target, and I know that I’m not alone in that decision.
This month, I made my first ever trip to The Summit, the outdoor shopping plaza so far north of my neighborhood that I thought I had traveled to Canada. It wasn’t as painful as I had expected. The natives were polite, and on a brisk fall day, it’s more life-affirming to walk outside than to be stuck in an endless indoor mall.
The Summit is also home to Five Guys Burgers & Fries, whose fresh deliciousness thrills me every time. If the other fast food chains turned out products like this, I would visit them, too. Out West, I loved In-n-Out, and have missed them dearly.
On a healthier note, I am thankful for Subway, especially while on the road. What a concept – a chain where one can find relatively healthy food. Imagine if that caught on…
That’s about it: A handful of clothing stores, and a handful of fast food stops. I will be buying my people presents from my favorite local boutiques this year, again, as well as making some lovingly selected mix CDs.
But I will also be back up North soon, because that new frozen yogurt chain, 32 Degrees, is fantastic.
Regular readers hopefully think of me as a proud and fervent supporter of all things local, independent, handmade, ethical, fair trade, organic and/or Socialist. Despite our recent election results, I am still Kentucky Proud, and have not yet applied for French citizenship.
There’s little than can excite me faster than a market full of cheeses grown by old hippie ladies, earrings depicting a child literally hugging a tree, and soaps made with hemp drained from Willie Nelson’s beard.
I hope that, during this year’s sprint of mindless consumerism and consumption, we can agree that there are many reasons why we should all be making gifts, or discovering them at one of the locally-owned boutiques around town that do so much to keep Louisville weird or, at least, less dull.
Recently, shops like The Green Haus, Acorn, Hey Tiger, Revelry, Consider and Creative have joined proven favorites The Makery, WHY Louisville, Dot Fox, Cherry Bomb, Ultra Pop and Work the Metal. We now have a Dandelion and a The Dandy Lion. We have two Regalos, and now we also have a Rigolo.
I also love our grand antique malls, home design shops and used bookstores.
So, should I be troubled by my growing awareness that there are some corporate chains whose goods I find equally desirable?
These chains fall into two categories: clothing or food. These are also categories that fall into the life-or-death section; though, if you asked me what my essential needs where, I’d probably list books, vinyl records and paintings of angry clowns before stopping to think that, well, no, those aren’t technically essential needs.
When it comes to clothing, it can be tough, in a town this size, to find clothes that I can call comfortable, relatively stylish, and affordable. When I lived in bigger cities, I was able to stock my drawers with thrift and vintage store finds. Not only is that tougher here, but, at 36, I also have to deal with the fact that some of my past choices are no longer quite so age-appropriate.
(As I age, I’ve realized that I’ll never be old enough for my older relatives. To them, I will always be 8. Anyone under 20, however, already seems to think that I’m “old”, 40 or 50, and “so weird.”)
So, to solve my essential clothing needs, I have found myself augmenting my locally handmade organic clothes with items from Banana Republic, The Gap and J. Crew. I have found clothing at Target, and I know that I’m not alone in that decision.
This month, I made my first ever trip to The Summit, the outdoor shopping plaza so far north of my neighborhood that I thought I had traveled to Canada. It wasn’t as painful as I had expected. The natives were polite, and on a brisk fall day, it’s more life-affirming to walk outside than to be stuck in an endless indoor mall.
The Summit is also home to Five Guys Burgers & Fries, whose fresh deliciousness thrills me every time. If the other fast food chains turned out products like this, I would visit them, too. Out West, I loved In-n-Out, and have missed them dearly.
On a healthier note, I am thankful for Subway, especially while on the road. What a concept – a chain where one can find relatively healthy food. Imagine if that caught on…
That’s about it: A handful of clothing stores, and a handful of fast food stops. I will be buying my people presents from my favorite local boutiques this year, again, as well as making some lovingly selected mix CDs.
But I will also be back up North soon, because that new frozen yogurt chain, 32 Degrees, is fantastic.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Column #23: A music lover searches for the perfect venue
It's not too loud, but I'm starting to feel that I'm getting too old.
Now that the music industry has been destroyed, can we agree that such concepts are outdated? The idea of "selling out" by licensing your song to a car commercial sure went the way of the Edsel, and many a band has made their name in the background of a tearful "Grey's Anatomy" sex-with-a-ghost scene. Do we still have to chastise folks for committing the crime of aging past 30?
In my parents' era, a popular notion was that "You can't trust anyone over 30." What's today's equivalent? You can't trust anyone who doesn't have a Facebook profile? (OK, maybe you can trust 'em, but how else will you find out about their dating history, or whether or not they "like" "Saying 'dude' when you get excited about something"?)
It’s not too loud. I’m much happier listening to extreme Japanese death metal than Sheryl Crow. However, I’m also a lot more interested in some other things – cooking, gardening, yoga – than I was 6 years ago.
There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? It would be wrong if I was still the same foolish 20-something, staying out drinking all night and dating the wrongest people available.
In my 20-year career of attending live music performances, I have rarely been impressed by the way in which they are presented. My earliest concerts – Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, Chicago – were all in the enormo-domes which are today saddled with corporate names like “The Mayor McCheese Amphitheater.” (Yum!)
My gateway concert was seeing the Dead Milkmen, outdoors on the campus of the University of South Florida, at 5 in the afternoon. At 16, I was beginning to soak up the non-commercial sounds of the weird and wacky punks of the time, but hearing those cassettes was nothing like walking into a field of weirdoes with colored hair, odd piercings and torn clothes. Even then, though, while I enjoyed the spectacle, I knew that I could never truly be one of them.
I’ve never felt comfortable in any one clique, an unfortunate circumstance probably exacerbated by moving amongst several cities. I’ve always been too punk for preppies, and too preppy for punks. My athletic abilities peaked when I was 9, but theater never held much appeal, either. Piano lessons were abandoned, though not as quickly as guitar lessons.
Otherwise, as a listener, music has all but replaced religion as my religion. The search for the perfect song can never end, and that is wonderful. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, no matter what Sting or Rod Stewart do to it.
From classy concert halls to some dude’s beer-soaked basement, from coffeehouses to progressive churches, from radio station rooftops to the back rooms of Mexican restaurants, I’ve seen some transcendent moments - from the surprise triumph of the Buena Vista Social Club in their full glory to Monotonix tearing up the Pour Haus - and, in hindsight, witnessed some bittersweet history (Nirvana’s last tour, Stevie Ray Vaughan’s last tour, an unintelligibly wasted Elliott Smith six weeks before his death).
But here’s the thing. At most of these times, I’ve always wanted to be some place more comfortable. Perhaps there’s a contradiction between wanting to lounge while watching crazy Israelis empty trash cans on the drummer’s head midsong, but hey, that’s how I roll.
I haven’t become too old. Internally, I’ve always been too old. I’ve always preferred sitting over standing, especially over many hours. Also, I’m not Jack Bauer – I’m not doing anything extremely important before 11 p.m., so feel free to start playing your songs shortly after dinner, OK? If the music’s good enough, it’ll sound just as good at 7:30 as it will at 1:30.
Will I one day be able to watch every concert on demand, at home? Will I miss anything meaningful? If so, will it be more exciting than playing with my cats and not paying $12 in “convenience fees”?
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Now that the music industry has been destroyed, can we agree that such concepts are outdated? The idea of "selling out" by licensing your song to a car commercial sure went the way of the Edsel, and many a band has made their name in the background of a tearful "Grey's Anatomy" sex-with-a-ghost scene. Do we still have to chastise folks for committing the crime of aging past 30?
In my parents' era, a popular notion was that "You can't trust anyone over 30." What's today's equivalent? You can't trust anyone who doesn't have a Facebook profile? (OK, maybe you can trust 'em, but how else will you find out about their dating history, or whether or not they "like" "Saying 'dude' when you get excited about something"?)
It’s not too loud. I’m much happier listening to extreme Japanese death metal than Sheryl Crow. However, I’m also a lot more interested in some other things – cooking, gardening, yoga – than I was 6 years ago.
There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? It would be wrong if I was still the same foolish 20-something, staying out drinking all night and dating the wrongest people available.
In my 20-year career of attending live music performances, I have rarely been impressed by the way in which they are presented. My earliest concerts – Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, Chicago – were all in the enormo-domes which are today saddled with corporate names like “The Mayor McCheese Amphitheater.” (Yum!)
My gateway concert was seeing the Dead Milkmen, outdoors on the campus of the University of South Florida, at 5 in the afternoon. At 16, I was beginning to soak up the non-commercial sounds of the weird and wacky punks of the time, but hearing those cassettes was nothing like walking into a field of weirdoes with colored hair, odd piercings and torn clothes. Even then, though, while I enjoyed the spectacle, I knew that I could never truly be one of them.
I’ve never felt comfortable in any one clique, an unfortunate circumstance probably exacerbated by moving amongst several cities. I’ve always been too punk for preppies, and too preppy for punks. My athletic abilities peaked when I was 9, but theater never held much appeal, either. Piano lessons were abandoned, though not as quickly as guitar lessons.
Otherwise, as a listener, music has all but replaced religion as my religion. The search for the perfect song can never end, and that is wonderful. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, no matter what Sting or Rod Stewart do to it.
From classy concert halls to some dude’s beer-soaked basement, from coffeehouses to progressive churches, from radio station rooftops to the back rooms of Mexican restaurants, I’ve seen some transcendent moments - from the surprise triumph of the Buena Vista Social Club in their full glory to Monotonix tearing up the Pour Haus - and, in hindsight, witnessed some bittersweet history (Nirvana’s last tour, Stevie Ray Vaughan’s last tour, an unintelligibly wasted Elliott Smith six weeks before his death).
But here’s the thing. At most of these times, I’ve always wanted to be some place more comfortable. Perhaps there’s a contradiction between wanting to lounge while watching crazy Israelis empty trash cans on the drummer’s head midsong, but hey, that’s how I roll.
I haven’t become too old. Internally, I’ve always been too old. I’ve always preferred sitting over standing, especially over many hours. Also, I’m not Jack Bauer – I’m not doing anything extremely important before 11 p.m., so feel free to start playing your songs shortly after dinner, OK? If the music’s good enough, it’ll sound just as good at 7:30 as it will at 1:30.
Will I one day be able to watch every concert on demand, at home? Will I miss anything meaningful? If so, will it be more exciting than playing with my cats and not paying $12 in “convenience fees”?
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Column #22: Short-lived TV series created ripples felt today
I come to praise, and to bury.
My focus in this column, generally, is to examine the intersections between culture and real life, while also fighting stubbornly against prejudices and other forms of lazy thinking.
My anger is often aimed at those who continually look back, on past days that they imagine to be better than these today. Because I believe strongly that anyone who thinks that life must have been better in the 1980s, or the 1960s, or the 1920s, is fooling himself.
With that said, let us look back on the mid-1990s, when we were younger and there was a TV series better than most on the tube today, or ever.
“My So-Called Life” began in 1994 and seemed to come from another planet. In the complacent Clinton era, when “Beverly Hills, 90210” passed for an honest teen drama, “My So-Called Life” jumped into the hearts of those of us who quickly fell in love with its funny, frank and deeply thoughtful look at very real, very flawed and very yearning teens, whose parents couldn't pretend to know it all anymore.
After a single, perfectly pitched season, ABC canceled the series, a victim of being scheduled against the new, terrible hit “Friends” and of the Hollywood aspirations of stars Claire Danes and Jared Leto.
The good news though, is that its legacy lives on, and its influence has been felt since, from “Freaks and Geeks” through “The Secret Life of the American Teenager.”
Two of the people behind “My So-Called Life” have brought their vision back to television recently, and we viewers are better off for it.
Writer Jason Katims has nurtured the shows “Friday Night Lights” and “Parenthood,” telling stories of what right-wingers like to call “real people” — people who are struggling to raise families while holding on to their jobs (yes, on “Parenthood,” even Berkeley yuppies don't have it easy).
The fact that “Friday Night Lights” has lasted through to its fifth season is admirable, as quality network dramas (such as the recent Fox attempt “Lone Star”) sometimes only make it through two episodes.
Do the big networks still have any authentic reasons for producing quality dramas? Cable channels like HBO and AMC are clearly much better at making them work. It took a deal with a satellite provider, Direct TV, to keep “Friday Night Lights” on the air.
It's too easy to blame the networks in this case, I fear. The creators of FX's “Damages” also had to beg DirectTV to keep the show alive, but unlike “Friday Night Lights,” which continues to air on NBC, “Damages” will be enjoyed solely by subscribers to the satellite service.
“My So-Called Life” co-creator Winnie Holzman, who had left TV for Broadway success, returned this summer to help her daughter create a series for ABC Family (the cable channel that most likely would have been the home of “Life” had it begun in the current era).
“Huge” had a great first season, full of some of the most real people ever seen on TV — teens at fat camp. It was funny, smart, moving and, at times, brave. And last week, it was canceled.
It seems unfair. Perhaps this self-described “family” channel is content to build its brand on sexier, less thought-provoking soaps like “Pretty Little Liars” and the cheerleaders of “Make It or Break It.”
(Perhaps that's not entirely fair. ABC Family is also home to the oft-overwrought but overall worthwhile “Secret Life” and the sharp “Greek,” which also includes some awkward young people who don't have perfect beach bodies.)
There is good news here: Even in Hollywood, writers are continuing to tell real stories, against all economic odds. If nothing else, the legacy of “My So-Called Life” continues to influence new generations of storytellers.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
My focus in this column, generally, is to examine the intersections between culture and real life, while also fighting stubbornly against prejudices and other forms of lazy thinking.
My anger is often aimed at those who continually look back, on past days that they imagine to be better than these today. Because I believe strongly that anyone who thinks that life must have been better in the 1980s, or the 1960s, or the 1920s, is fooling himself.
With that said, let us look back on the mid-1990s, when we were younger and there was a TV series better than most on the tube today, or ever.
“My So-Called Life” began in 1994 and seemed to come from another planet. In the complacent Clinton era, when “Beverly Hills, 90210” passed for an honest teen drama, “My So-Called Life” jumped into the hearts of those of us who quickly fell in love with its funny, frank and deeply thoughtful look at very real, very flawed and very yearning teens, whose parents couldn't pretend to know it all anymore.
After a single, perfectly pitched season, ABC canceled the series, a victim of being scheduled against the new, terrible hit “Friends” and of the Hollywood aspirations of stars Claire Danes and Jared Leto.
The good news though, is that its legacy lives on, and its influence has been felt since, from “Freaks and Geeks” through “The Secret Life of the American Teenager.”
Two of the people behind “My So-Called Life” have brought their vision back to television recently, and we viewers are better off for it.
Writer Jason Katims has nurtured the shows “Friday Night Lights” and “Parenthood,” telling stories of what right-wingers like to call “real people” — people who are struggling to raise families while holding on to their jobs (yes, on “Parenthood,” even Berkeley yuppies don't have it easy).
The fact that “Friday Night Lights” has lasted through to its fifth season is admirable, as quality network dramas (such as the recent Fox attempt “Lone Star”) sometimes only make it through two episodes.
Do the big networks still have any authentic reasons for producing quality dramas? Cable channels like HBO and AMC are clearly much better at making them work. It took a deal with a satellite provider, Direct TV, to keep “Friday Night Lights” on the air.
It's too easy to blame the networks in this case, I fear. The creators of FX's “Damages” also had to beg DirectTV to keep the show alive, but unlike “Friday Night Lights,” which continues to air on NBC, “Damages” will be enjoyed solely by subscribers to the satellite service.
“My So-Called Life” co-creator Winnie Holzman, who had left TV for Broadway success, returned this summer to help her daughter create a series for ABC Family (the cable channel that most likely would have been the home of “Life” had it begun in the current era).
“Huge” had a great first season, full of some of the most real people ever seen on TV — teens at fat camp. It was funny, smart, moving and, at times, brave. And last week, it was canceled.
It seems unfair. Perhaps this self-described “family” channel is content to build its brand on sexier, less thought-provoking soaps like “Pretty Little Liars” and the cheerleaders of “Make It or Break It.”
(Perhaps that's not entirely fair. ABC Family is also home to the oft-overwrought but overall worthwhile “Secret Life” and the sharp “Greek,” which also includes some awkward young people who don't have perfect beach bodies.)
There is good news here: Even in Hollywood, writers are continuing to tell real stories, against all economic odds. If nothing else, the legacy of “My So-Called Life” continues to influence new generations of storytellers.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Idea Fest schedule
Velocity's pop-culture guru Peter Berkowitz offers his take on this year's festival lineup
For four days, all are welcome to witness new, often surprising perspectives on where our society will — or, at least, should — be heading. While none of these people have appeared on Dancing With the Stars, many are superstars in their own fields of work and study.
WEDNESDAY
Thrivals 3.0
Get an early start with this daylong seminar led by futurist Nat Irvin II. 7a.m.
Janelle Monae
The wonderfully spaced-out singer and composer helps get things going with a very special Idea Festival concert. 8p.m.
THURSDAY
Dynamics of Arts in Healthcare
A panel discussion on how the arts can influence health care and the healing process. (Or is it really about how Obamacare is a socialist plot to destroy Betty White? Hmm?) 7:45 a.m.
Stefan Sagmeister
The acclaimed graphic designer is also a multiple Grammy nominee, but he'll be discussing the future of design, not playing hot tracks from the new Taylor Swift record. 9 a.m.
Daphne Miller
In “The Jungle Effect,” physician Miller shares her findings on how different local practices culled from around the world can benefit our health. Note: Bring your own yoga mat. 10:30 a.m.
Peter W. Singer
I'm a guy who gets a tingling feeling from the title of this presentation: “Robotics and the Future of Conflict in the 21st Century.” I'm envisioning many educational clips from RoboCop and Iron Man. 12 p.m.
Hugh Herr
On the same track, this MIT professor talks about his work with bionics, and how this will all lead one day to robot housekeepers like we were promised by The Jetsons. 1:30 p.m.
Rick Bragg
Look! It's that rarest of creatures — a well-paid journalist! The author All Over But the Shoutin' and Ava's Man will discuss the art of storytelling. 3p.m.
Anand Giridharadas
What's a “fushionista”? Or “Ghandian engineering”? Learn how they will bring about an entire reshaping of our planet, all in less time than it takes to watch an episode of Project Runway. 4:30 p.m.
Ben Sollee
This popular singer/songwriter/cellist has toured now by bicycle because he believes in helping the planet by living sustainably. If there are lights on in the theater, try to not be too confused by the contradiction. 7:45 p.m.
FRIDAY
Jim Tucker
Do you believe that you have lived past lives? Do you love the Baby Geniuses movies? Tucker will discuss his work with children “who appear to have vivid memories of previous lives.” 9a.m.
Will Pearson
While it's rare to combine hard-won knowledge with goofball fun, Pearson and his interactive “Mental Floss Trivia Show” will delight people who dream of canoodling with NPR's Carl Kassel. 10:30 a.m.
Dom Sagolla
A summary of a Twitter co-founder should be 140 characters or less, yes? He's also the author of a book called 140 Characters... surprise! (Was that short enough?) 12 p.m.
Caroline Alexander
This author delves into The Iliad, the Trojan War and the lessons that emerge from Homer's epic tale. Russell Crowe, we've found your next hit! 1:30 p.m.
Daniel Tammet
This best-selling author is “a high-functioning autistic savant” who will share his point of view on the world through the prism of autism. 3p.m.
Alejandro Echeverri
The architect, a co-winner of the prestigious Curry Stone Design Prize, will discuss his efforts to re-design the troubled city of Medellin, Colombia. 4:30 p.m.
Diavolo
The dancers, gymnasts and actors of this Los Angeles troupe present a surreal night of theater centered on individuals and their environs. So, yes, they do think they can dance. 8 p.m.
SATURDAY
Sapphire
The author — aka Ramona Lofton — of the book Push will talk about the novel and the hugely successful film Precious that it inspired. 9 a.m.
Philip Done
In “Close Encounters of the Third Grade Kind,” this teacher will share tales of from the educational frontlines, as well as his thoughts about our educational system. 10:30 a.m.
What Is Literary Louisville?
A panel of local writers and publishers will address this question. 10:30 a.m.
Creating the Artful Organization
Funding guru Ruby Lerner and others discuss how to raise cash without selling your soul. 12 p.m.
Sean Carroll
This Cal Tech physicist has written a book about time, from cool stuff like time travel to more academic questions like why we perceive each work day as being, like, really really long. 1:30 p.m.
Philippe Petit
Meet the man famous for — illegally — walking a tightwire between the World Trade Center towers in 1974. He still trains daily for... well, you'll just have to come and find out. 3 p.m.
Tori Murden McClure
The Spalding University president is also an adventurer who has done a bunch of crazy stuff that none of us will ever have the guts to do. 4:30 p.m.
The Contemplative Life
The philosophy of Thomas Merton, the monk who did some if his most profound thinking at Kentucky's Abbey of Gethsemani, is the subject of this panel discussion. 4:30 p.m.
Jon Landau
The producer of the blockbuster flicks Titanic and Avatar will discuss what it takes to get a film made from start to (hopefully) successful finish. 7 p.m.
All events listed are at the Kentucky Center for the Arts, 501 W. Main St.
(Credit: Illustration by Josh Thomas)
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
For four days, all are welcome to witness new, often surprising perspectives on where our society will — or, at least, should — be heading. While none of these people have appeared on Dancing With the Stars, many are superstars in their own fields of work and study.
WEDNESDAY
Thrivals 3.0
Get an early start with this daylong seminar led by futurist Nat Irvin II. 7a.m.
Janelle Monae
The wonderfully spaced-out singer and composer helps get things going with a very special Idea Festival concert. 8p.m.
THURSDAY
Dynamics of Arts in Healthcare
A panel discussion on how the arts can influence health care and the healing process. (Or is it really about how Obamacare is a socialist plot to destroy Betty White? Hmm?) 7:45 a.m.
Stefan Sagmeister
The acclaimed graphic designer is also a multiple Grammy nominee, but he'll be discussing the future of design, not playing hot tracks from the new Taylor Swift record. 9 a.m.
Daphne Miller
In “The Jungle Effect,” physician Miller shares her findings on how different local practices culled from around the world can benefit our health. Note: Bring your own yoga mat. 10:30 a.m.
Peter W. Singer
I'm a guy who gets a tingling feeling from the title of this presentation: “Robotics and the Future of Conflict in the 21st Century.” I'm envisioning many educational clips from RoboCop and Iron Man. 12 p.m.
Hugh Herr
On the same track, this MIT professor talks about his work with bionics, and how this will all lead one day to robot housekeepers like we were promised by The Jetsons. 1:30 p.m.
Rick Bragg
Look! It's that rarest of creatures — a well-paid journalist! The author All Over But the Shoutin' and Ava's Man will discuss the art of storytelling. 3p.m.
Anand Giridharadas
What's a “fushionista”? Or “Ghandian engineering”? Learn how they will bring about an entire reshaping of our planet, all in less time than it takes to watch an episode of Project Runway. 4:30 p.m.
Ben Sollee
This popular singer/songwriter/cellist has toured now by bicycle because he believes in helping the planet by living sustainably. If there are lights on in the theater, try to not be too confused by the contradiction. 7:45 p.m.
FRIDAY
Jim Tucker
Do you believe that you have lived past lives? Do you love the Baby Geniuses movies? Tucker will discuss his work with children “who appear to have vivid memories of previous lives.” 9a.m.
Will Pearson
While it's rare to combine hard-won knowledge with goofball fun, Pearson and his interactive “Mental Floss Trivia Show” will delight people who dream of canoodling with NPR's Carl Kassel. 10:30 a.m.
Dom Sagolla
A summary of a Twitter co-founder should be 140 characters or less, yes? He's also the author of a book called 140 Characters... surprise! (Was that short enough?) 12 p.m.
Caroline Alexander
This author delves into The Iliad, the Trojan War and the lessons that emerge from Homer's epic tale. Russell Crowe, we've found your next hit! 1:30 p.m.
Daniel Tammet
This best-selling author is “a high-functioning autistic savant” who will share his point of view on the world through the prism of autism. 3p.m.
Alejandro Echeverri
The architect, a co-winner of the prestigious Curry Stone Design Prize, will discuss his efforts to re-design the troubled city of Medellin, Colombia. 4:30 p.m.
Diavolo
The dancers, gymnasts and actors of this Los Angeles troupe present a surreal night of theater centered on individuals and their environs. So, yes, they do think they can dance. 8 p.m.
SATURDAY
Sapphire
The author — aka Ramona Lofton — of the book Push will talk about the novel and the hugely successful film Precious that it inspired. 9 a.m.
Philip Done
In “Close Encounters of the Third Grade Kind,” this teacher will share tales of from the educational frontlines, as well as his thoughts about our educational system. 10:30 a.m.
What Is Literary Louisville?
A panel of local writers and publishers will address this question. 10:30 a.m.
Creating the Artful Organization
Funding guru Ruby Lerner and others discuss how to raise cash without selling your soul. 12 p.m.
Sean Carroll
This Cal Tech physicist has written a book about time, from cool stuff like time travel to more academic questions like why we perceive each work day as being, like, really really long. 1:30 p.m.
Philippe Petit
Meet the man famous for — illegally — walking a tightwire between the World Trade Center towers in 1974. He still trains daily for... well, you'll just have to come and find out. 3 p.m.
Tori Murden McClure
The Spalding University president is also an adventurer who has done a bunch of crazy stuff that none of us will ever have the guts to do. 4:30 p.m.
The Contemplative Life
The philosophy of Thomas Merton, the monk who did some if his most profound thinking at Kentucky's Abbey of Gethsemani, is the subject of this panel discussion. 4:30 p.m.
Jon Landau
The producer of the blockbuster flicks Titanic and Avatar will discuss what it takes to get a film made from start to (hopefully) successful finish. 7 p.m.
All events listed are at the Kentucky Center for the Arts, 501 W. Main St.
(Credit: Illustration by Josh Thomas)
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
of the readers, by the readers, for the readers
"It’s that time of year again — a time when we let you, the reader, determine the best our fair city has to offer, from all-you-can-eat deals and fine dining to church picnics and strip clubs. We welcome your votes, even when we seriously disagree, and we present the winners in these pages without interference, aside from correcting the occasional mangled word (it turns out very few people can spell Muhammad Ali or Peter Berkowitz correctly).
But did you honestly think we would be willing to relinquish all editorial control? Of course not. And so this year, LEO writers weigh in as well, presenting our own picks in some rather unorthodox categories. After all, where else are you going to learn about the best places to take a romantic stroll and watch drunken frat boys vomit?
Congratulations to all the winners, and thanks to our readers for caring enough about Louisville to log on and vote.
And now for the winners ..."
Best Local Feature Writer
1) Peter Berkowitz
2) Steve Shaw
3) Dana McMahan
Best Local Columnist
1) Pam Swisher
2) Peter Berkowitz
3) Rick Bozich
Best Local Arts Writer
1) Erin Keane
2) Peter Berkowitz
3) Jo Anne Triplett
Best Local Blog
1) Backseat Sandbar
2) Consuming Louisville
3) Peter Berkowitz
Column #21: Is 'Top Chef' a microcosm of our cultural biases?
“I worry about his taste level.”
This is a phrase used often on reality TV shows. It’s not as popular as “I didn’t come here to make friends,” but that’s because nothing feels better to say in the heat of battle and yet means as little to the outside world.
Though the concept of “taste” is clearly offensive to anyone-can-do-it competitions like “American Idol” and “America’s Got Talent,” the "taste level" of contestants is often invoked on competitions between professionals who already have actual skills, like “Project Runway,” “HGTV Design Star” and “Work of Art.” The judges debate it, and the contestants use it to belittle each other.
However, the definition of “taste” can vary between different people, whether because of class, race or other cultural influencers. When we can’t agree with each other about the merits of a movie, or a dress, “We can agree to disagree,” because “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
But in a competition, where people of varying backgrounds are asked to make “the best” cake or dress or to be “the best” singer, is it more like apples and oranges? Who’s a "better" singer, Kelly Clarkson or Ruben Studdard, Carrie Underwood or Adam Lambert?
Ask anyone involved in making comedy movies whether they get the respect they feel they deserve, come awards season. I don’t think “Airplane!” or “Office Space” were considered important by judges, but I think more movie aficionados would consider them classics above serious sludge like “A Beautiful Mind” or “Scent of a Woman.”
A lot of rich Hollywood producers didn’t see Tyler Perry coming, or expect that Ice Cube could become a media mogul, too. Perhaps their works aren’t up to the “taste level” of Oscar-winner Sandra Bullock’s “All About Steve” or that brilliant Mike Meyers’ “The Love Guru.”
Similarly, when I tune in to our public radio station, I often wonder why I never seem to hear music by exciting new talents like Janelle Monae or proven favorites like Jill Scott, Maxwell or Mary J. Blige.
A station known for playing artists like k.d. lang, Natalie Merchant and The Dave Matthews Band would seem ideal for such talents, but as the very tasteful music writer Jeffrey Lee Puckett, wrote recently, they are perceived as playing “music that white, 25- to 54-year-old professionals want to hear.”
No one’s saying that Schoolly D’s hip hop classic “Am I Black Enough for You?” is compatible with this audience, but a demographic that can’t get enough Bob Marley and Michael Franti would also enjoy Alicia Keys.
For a legend like Mavis Staples, I guess it takes Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy producing your record to get you played on public radio.
It took four seasons for a woman to claim the title of “Top Chef,” and even that season’s winner, Stephanie Izard of Chicago, would agree that she only won on a technicality. By setting this season in Washington, D.C., one might even
assume that the producers were working overtime to find their first African-American winner.
In the first half of the season, the battle appeared to be obvious: Kenny, an African-American whose bio declares him to be, “An intense and no-nonsense chef, Kenny once split his pants open while cooking a 10-course meal and didn’t even blink an eye,” versus the Latino Angelo, a creepily nervous but talented chef.
By the finale, Angelo seemed to be imploding, making victory easier for average white man Ed, while the inconsistent Kevin, an African-American, looked like the longshot.
So, spoiler alert, yes, Kevin won, and he shared how proud he was to be the first African-American winner. Did he deserve the title? In this case, it’s impossible to say, as we viewers can’t taste their food. But who’s a better comedian, Chris Rock or Sarah Silverman? Is Jonathan Franzen a better writer than Z.Z. Packer? Can we all agree on what’s tasteful?
Or is our country doomed to be forever equal, but separate?
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
This is a phrase used often on reality TV shows. It’s not as popular as “I didn’t come here to make friends,” but that’s because nothing feels better to say in the heat of battle and yet means as little to the outside world.
Though the concept of “taste” is clearly offensive to anyone-can-do-it competitions like “American Idol” and “America’s Got Talent,” the "taste level" of contestants is often invoked on competitions between professionals who already have actual skills, like “Project Runway,” “HGTV Design Star” and “Work of Art.” The judges debate it, and the contestants use it to belittle each other.
However, the definition of “taste” can vary between different people, whether because of class, race or other cultural influencers. When we can’t agree with each other about the merits of a movie, or a dress, “We can agree to disagree,” because “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
But in a competition, where people of varying backgrounds are asked to make “the best” cake or dress or to be “the best” singer, is it more like apples and oranges? Who’s a "better" singer, Kelly Clarkson or Ruben Studdard, Carrie Underwood or Adam Lambert?
Ask anyone involved in making comedy movies whether they get the respect they feel they deserve, come awards season. I don’t think “Airplane!” or “Office Space” were considered important by judges, but I think more movie aficionados would consider them classics above serious sludge like “A Beautiful Mind” or “Scent of a Woman.”
A lot of rich Hollywood producers didn’t see Tyler Perry coming, or expect that Ice Cube could become a media mogul, too. Perhaps their works aren’t up to the “taste level” of Oscar-winner Sandra Bullock’s “All About Steve” or that brilliant Mike Meyers’ “The Love Guru.”
Similarly, when I tune in to our public radio station, I often wonder why I never seem to hear music by exciting new talents like Janelle Monae or proven favorites like Jill Scott, Maxwell or Mary J. Blige.
A station known for playing artists like k.d. lang, Natalie Merchant and The Dave Matthews Band would seem ideal for such talents, but as the very tasteful music writer Jeffrey Lee Puckett, wrote recently, they are perceived as playing “music that white, 25- to 54-year-old professionals want to hear.”
No one’s saying that Schoolly D’s hip hop classic “Am I Black Enough for You?” is compatible with this audience, but a demographic that can’t get enough Bob Marley and Michael Franti would also enjoy Alicia Keys.
For a legend like Mavis Staples, I guess it takes Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy producing your record to get you played on public radio.
It took four seasons for a woman to claim the title of “Top Chef,” and even that season’s winner, Stephanie Izard of Chicago, would agree that she only won on a technicality. By setting this season in Washington, D.C., one might even
assume that the producers were working overtime to find their first African-American winner.
In the first half of the season, the battle appeared to be obvious: Kenny, an African-American whose bio declares him to be, “An intense and no-nonsense chef, Kenny once split his pants open while cooking a 10-course meal and didn’t even blink an eye,” versus the Latino Angelo, a creepily nervous but talented chef.
By the finale, Angelo seemed to be imploding, making victory easier for average white man Ed, while the inconsistent Kevin, an African-American, looked like the longshot.
So, spoiler alert, yes, Kevin won, and he shared how proud he was to be the first African-American winner. Did he deserve the title? In this case, it’s impossible to say, as we viewers can’t taste their food. But who’s a better comedian, Chris Rock or Sarah Silverman? Is Jonathan Franzen a better writer than Z.Z. Packer? Can we all agree on what’s tasteful?
Or is our country doomed to be forever equal, but separate?
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Column #20: My generation's aging - and that's a good thing
In last week's USA Weekend magazine, the cover story was about Drew Barrymore. Generally, that wouldn’t interest me, but this story caught my eye. The cover quoted her as saying, "I'm trying to figure out what the second half of my life is going to be."
Barrymore, 35, is only 6 months younger than me, and only slightly young enough still to remain within the youth-obsessed media's acceptable age demographic.
From the perspective of today's teens, I suppose she's been an adult for a long time now. By any reasonable standard, 35 is fairly adult. But, as someone who's known about (if not actually know) Barrymore since we were both 7, it's odd, having to consider that someone still so youthful and immature-seeming is barreling towards 40. Because that means that I am, too.
This isn't a problem for me, though. I'm one of those people who got called "an old soul" by concerned teachers. I can't wait to yell, "Get off my lawn!" at some rambunctious kids without having to worry that they might still consider me young enough for a fight.
I anticipate being a lot more adorable at 70 than I was at 35. At the very least, it will make more sense, why I'm wandering around in a cardigan and sensible shoes, mumbling about how the Kardashians haven't done anything to deserve their fame.
In the same magazine, I saw that Macauley Culkin just turned 30. Melissa Joan Hart, TV’s "Sabrina the Teenage Witch", and starring in a new sitcom with Joey Lawrence, also 34. Remember Hanson? They just played a free show at Ear X-tacy. Among the three of them, the brothers now have seven children. Recently, Hanson played inside Ear X-tacy. The Hanson brothers now have 7 children between them.
I've tried to be young. It just wasn’t for me. There’s not much worse than not knowing what's going on, not knowing who you are, being at the mercy of so many cruel factors - parents, teachers, bosses. I'd rather be old, rich and fat than get really stoned while the Foo Fighters play in a field behind me.
Meanwhile, all around me, some of my peers are trying hard not to grow up and move on. Hey, I'm glad that your band was awesome in 1989. I'm sure it was super exciting for you when you were 16, rocking out with your teenage fans and friends, hormones in overdrive and totally stoked to move out of your parents house one day. But now we're heading towards middle age, and even Drew Barrymore is getting old.
Why do bands keep reuniting 20 years later, but old high school football teams never do? Would that really be any different? Both are intensely physical roles played by people who are, ideally, in prime physical and mental shape, trained and ready to go out and conquer in the name of glory, money and, most importantly, chicks.
Athletes, like dancers, retire much younger than teachers or doctors for a pretty obvious reason. Yet seeing how old, fat and sad the Pixies look now did little to discourage their fans.
Clearly, I didn’t peak in my teens. I’m finally happy now, in my 30’s. I did what I guess you'd call "settling down". No more psychodrama romances, no more staying out 'til 4 a.m. drinking away the pain. Now we have cats — three of them — and they are much more entertaining than hanging out with dudes, rocking out to yet another intense band in yet another sweaty basement.
That stuff helped me hate the suburbs and Ronald Reagan when I was an angry teen, but now I get to live in a great neighborhood in a lovely city, and we finally have a president who symbolizes the fact that this country is making progress and dealing with its prejudices.
Dear Generation X, our turn is over. Kennedy is no longer our VJ. MTV doesn't even play videos any more. Winona Ryder is no longer a movie star and Soul Asylum is finally a faded memory. Reality doesn’t bite us any more.
C. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Barrymore, 35, is only 6 months younger than me, and only slightly young enough still to remain within the youth-obsessed media's acceptable age demographic.
From the perspective of today's teens, I suppose she's been an adult for a long time now. By any reasonable standard, 35 is fairly adult. But, as someone who's known about (if not actually know) Barrymore since we were both 7, it's odd, having to consider that someone still so youthful and immature-seeming is barreling towards 40. Because that means that I am, too.
This isn't a problem for me, though. I'm one of those people who got called "an old soul" by concerned teachers. I can't wait to yell, "Get off my lawn!" at some rambunctious kids without having to worry that they might still consider me young enough for a fight.
I anticipate being a lot more adorable at 70 than I was at 35. At the very least, it will make more sense, why I'm wandering around in a cardigan and sensible shoes, mumbling about how the Kardashians haven't done anything to deserve their fame.
In the same magazine, I saw that Macauley Culkin just turned 30. Melissa Joan Hart, TV’s "Sabrina the Teenage Witch", and starring in a new sitcom with Joey Lawrence, also 34. Remember Hanson? They just played a free show at Ear X-tacy. Among the three of them, the brothers now have seven children. Recently, Hanson played inside Ear X-tacy. The Hanson brothers now have 7 children between them.
I've tried to be young. It just wasn’t for me. There’s not much worse than not knowing what's going on, not knowing who you are, being at the mercy of so many cruel factors - parents, teachers, bosses. I'd rather be old, rich and fat than get really stoned while the Foo Fighters play in a field behind me.
Meanwhile, all around me, some of my peers are trying hard not to grow up and move on. Hey, I'm glad that your band was awesome in 1989. I'm sure it was super exciting for you when you were 16, rocking out with your teenage fans and friends, hormones in overdrive and totally stoked to move out of your parents house one day. But now we're heading towards middle age, and even Drew Barrymore is getting old.
Why do bands keep reuniting 20 years later, but old high school football teams never do? Would that really be any different? Both are intensely physical roles played by people who are, ideally, in prime physical and mental shape, trained and ready to go out and conquer in the name of glory, money and, most importantly, chicks.
Athletes, like dancers, retire much younger than teachers or doctors for a pretty obvious reason. Yet seeing how old, fat and sad the Pixies look now did little to discourage their fans.
Clearly, I didn’t peak in my teens. I’m finally happy now, in my 30’s. I did what I guess you'd call "settling down". No more psychodrama romances, no more staying out 'til 4 a.m. drinking away the pain. Now we have cats — three of them — and they are much more entertaining than hanging out with dudes, rocking out to yet another intense band in yet another sweaty basement.
That stuff helped me hate the suburbs and Ronald Reagan when I was an angry teen, but now I get to live in a great neighborhood in a lovely city, and we finally have a president who symbolizes the fact that this country is making progress and dealing with its prejudices.
Dear Generation X, our turn is over. Kennedy is no longer our VJ. MTV doesn't even play videos any more. Winona Ryder is no longer a movie star and Soul Asylum is finally a faded memory. Reality doesn’t bite us any more.
C. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Column #19: Cool music took the heat out of sucky summers
"Is this record called 'Summer's Greatest Hits'?", my wife asked.
The record I had playing as we dressed that morning wasn't but, as a collection of the Lovin' Spoonful's greatest hits, could have been.
Even without their classic song, "Summer in the City", the Lovin' Spoonful still reign as the most summery-sounding band ever. Their bouncy, light songs - thoughtful but never heavy, optimistic even when sad - sound the way that summer should feel.
Just not this summer.
As kids, we loved summer because we didn't have to go to school. We were free to play with our friends, go to camp and have important but long-forgotten romances.
Today, however, summer is a poorly-planned fusion of work, familial obligations and 60-band music festivals stuffed with leather-pants-wearing 22-year-olds hoping to conquer the world and bloated has-beens who gave up trying long ago.
The part of this formula that I really don’t understand is why, if they insist on making us sit through so many bands in one day, they can’t do it in the spring and in the fall? It’s so much nicer outside then, and there’s not much competition in the festival business.
Festival headliners such as Huey Lewis and Smashing Pumpkins are just glad that they don’t have to play the State Fair yet. Wouldn’t they sound even less pathetic without sweat dripping in our ears?
I haven't been a fan of this season for a while. A surplus of bright heat and shirtless men who should, really, have more shame is bad enough. Worse, for me, though, is the lack of quality television.
No matter how exciting that action-packed sequel to that comic book movie is, it's still less than two hours long and costs almost $10 per person. What am I supposed to do the rest of the week? I'm thankful that summer TV has improved, but even the best efforts of the cable channels aren't enough to fool me into thinking that they're really trying.
The MTV series Jersey Shore is back. You already knew this, of course, due to the national media's decision to spend more time discussing Snooki's latest hot tub adventure than, say, the two wars we find ourselves mired in, or the continuing tragedy of the Gulf oil spill.
How Bruce Springsteen allowed those twits to redefine the very concept of summer fun in the name of his home state is another unforgivable scandal.
Earlier this summer, I found myself craving the Boss's second album, the unjustly lesser-known The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle. I had an urge to enjoy something, anything, summery under 100 degrees (besides ice cream).
The album begins with bleating horns suggesting an impending New Orleans funeral party, so you know that you’re in for a good time.
A funk groove that playfully dates it to the '70's takes over, while Bruce narrates one of his first stories of young lovers and fighters making the best of their situation. The album is filled with voices rising in the background, the sounds of block parties and backyard bar-b-ques in full swing.
“As them sweet summer nights turn into summer dreams/Little Angel picks up Power and he slips on his jeans/And they move on out down to the scene/All the kids are dancin'.”
Accordions, organs and horns (including a tuba!) propel the swingin' shuffles and teen romance ballads; what makes this album seem so summery is its looseness, especially compared to anything the E Street band has done in the past 35 years.
They weren't famous, they were lean, hungry and wore sleeveless shirts and beards; they were less working class heroes than young guys looking for the next cold beer and/or warm companion.
“Oh Sandy, the aurora is risin' behind us/The pier lights our carnival life on the water/Runnin' down the beach at night with my boss's daughter/Well he ain't my boss no more, Sandy.”
Take that, Katy Perry.
The record I had playing as we dressed that morning wasn't but, as a collection of the Lovin' Spoonful's greatest hits, could have been.
Even without their classic song, "Summer in the City", the Lovin' Spoonful still reign as the most summery-sounding band ever. Their bouncy, light songs - thoughtful but never heavy, optimistic even when sad - sound the way that summer should feel.
Just not this summer.
As kids, we loved summer because we didn't have to go to school. We were free to play with our friends, go to camp and have important but long-forgotten romances.
Today, however, summer is a poorly-planned fusion of work, familial obligations and 60-band music festivals stuffed with leather-pants-wearing 22-year-olds hoping to conquer the world and bloated has-beens who gave up trying long ago.
The part of this formula that I really don’t understand is why, if they insist on making us sit through so many bands in one day, they can’t do it in the spring and in the fall? It’s so much nicer outside then, and there’s not much competition in the festival business.
Festival headliners such as Huey Lewis and Smashing Pumpkins are just glad that they don’t have to play the State Fair yet. Wouldn’t they sound even less pathetic without sweat dripping in our ears?
I haven't been a fan of this season for a while. A surplus of bright heat and shirtless men who should, really, have more shame is bad enough. Worse, for me, though, is the lack of quality television.
No matter how exciting that action-packed sequel to that comic book movie is, it's still less than two hours long and costs almost $10 per person. What am I supposed to do the rest of the week? I'm thankful that summer TV has improved, but even the best efforts of the cable channels aren't enough to fool me into thinking that they're really trying.
The MTV series Jersey Shore is back. You already knew this, of course, due to the national media's decision to spend more time discussing Snooki's latest hot tub adventure than, say, the two wars we find ourselves mired in, or the continuing tragedy of the Gulf oil spill.
How Bruce Springsteen allowed those twits to redefine the very concept of summer fun in the name of his home state is another unforgivable scandal.
Earlier this summer, I found myself craving the Boss's second album, the unjustly lesser-known The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle. I had an urge to enjoy something, anything, summery under 100 degrees (besides ice cream).
The album begins with bleating horns suggesting an impending New Orleans funeral party, so you know that you’re in for a good time.
A funk groove that playfully dates it to the '70's takes over, while Bruce narrates one of his first stories of young lovers and fighters making the best of their situation. The album is filled with voices rising in the background, the sounds of block parties and backyard bar-b-ques in full swing.
“As them sweet summer nights turn into summer dreams/Little Angel picks up Power and he slips on his jeans/And they move on out down to the scene/All the kids are dancin'.”
Accordions, organs and horns (including a tuba!) propel the swingin' shuffles and teen romance ballads; what makes this album seem so summery is its looseness, especially compared to anything the E Street band has done in the past 35 years.
They weren't famous, they were lean, hungry and wore sleeveless shirts and beards; they were less working class heroes than young guys looking for the next cold beer and/or warm companion.
“Oh Sandy, the aurora is risin' behind us/The pier lights our carnival life on the water/Runnin' down the beach at night with my boss's daughter/Well he ain't my boss no more, Sandy.”
Take that, Katy Perry.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Column #18: Facebook can be a mundane fantasy world
My friend Justin posted a status update last week: “When Robin and I get home for the evening, we don't talk about our respective days. We like to talk about what you, our Facebook friends, have been doing today. Thanks.”
After laughing out loud (which is what I do in real life; I tend to reserve my “LOL”ing for online conversations about “The Family Circus” or local music festivals), I thought about what might have stimulated this obviously sarcastic post.
Though a walk through any office or school today makes it seem like everyone in the world uses Facebook, there’s still a billion folks who don’t. Most of my relatives don’t.
Aside from the time commitment, the complaints I hear from non-users are usually of the “I don’t want some kid I went to third grade with wanting to be my ‘friend’” variety - though most of these same people would otherwise enjoy seeing that popular jock from high school as a 38-year-old fattie, if it were in an alumni newsletter.
What’s sad about such pictures is that social sites such as this offer people a place to present a better version of themselves, and yet most don’t even understand how to do so.
Facebook is where you can try to convince others of the fantasy that you are more awesome than them. If a documentary film is like real life without the boring parts, then Facebook is like real life without the boring parts, and without people getting to hear how annoying your voice is, how often you nervously play with your hair and how bad you look in profile.
Yet most merely bombard us, their friends, with updates such as “I wish I was at home instead of work,” “It really is hot today!” and “I’m hungry.”
I use it primarily to learn about events - music, art, beer, anything fun and occasionally charitable. If I could get that information without having to read five opinions of a basketball game, I would.
Such updates often serve to remind me that I’m not missing much in the real world. But hey, have fun at that late night dance party, guy I used to work with five years ago. I’ll see your pictures in the morning.
Facebook holdouts don’t listen to me when I tell them that I rarely get messaged by old classmates. The holdouts talk about privacy, but don’t want to acknowledge that information about everyone can be found online, somewhere, whether we like it or not.
If you don’t want non-friends to see what you’re up to, it’s easy to quickly learn how to hide one’s ostensibly personal information on Facebook. As an old married man, I don’t care if my parents or bosses see what I’m up to. Even when I was younger and making stupid choices in public, I stayed out of pictures that might embarrass me.
Why are so many thrilled about typing their lunch into this website? Talking about what you ate, seemingly to make others jealous of how much better you’re eating than them, is not charming. It’s like seeing a Food Network program without any explanations or recipes, let alone pretty pictures.
It’s the jealousy angle that fascinates me the most. I don’t get why people think writing, “On the beach in Hawaii. Sooo beautiful!” is helping anyone. The rest of us just hate you for having something that we all want.
I post pictures of trips online, though I worry a little about alienating others. There’s a big difference, though, between seeing a beautiful sunset – or a double rainbow – and merely reading about one. Same with that huge burrito you had for lunch. If it’s so special, why don’t you take a picture of it? The kids on the playground tell me that it’ll last longer.
After laughing out loud (which is what I do in real life; I tend to reserve my “LOL”ing for online conversations about “The Family Circus” or local music festivals), I thought about what might have stimulated this obviously sarcastic post.
Though a walk through any office or school today makes it seem like everyone in the world uses Facebook, there’s still a billion folks who don’t. Most of my relatives don’t.
Aside from the time commitment, the complaints I hear from non-users are usually of the “I don’t want some kid I went to third grade with wanting to be my ‘friend’” variety - though most of these same people would otherwise enjoy seeing that popular jock from high school as a 38-year-old fattie, if it were in an alumni newsletter.
What’s sad about such pictures is that social sites such as this offer people a place to present a better version of themselves, and yet most don’t even understand how to do so.
Facebook is where you can try to convince others of the fantasy that you are more awesome than them. If a documentary film is like real life without the boring parts, then Facebook is like real life without the boring parts, and without people getting to hear how annoying your voice is, how often you nervously play with your hair and how bad you look in profile.
Yet most merely bombard us, their friends, with updates such as “I wish I was at home instead of work,” “It really is hot today!” and “I’m hungry.”
I use it primarily to learn about events - music, art, beer, anything fun and occasionally charitable. If I could get that information without having to read five opinions of a basketball game, I would.
Such updates often serve to remind me that I’m not missing much in the real world. But hey, have fun at that late night dance party, guy I used to work with five years ago. I’ll see your pictures in the morning.
Facebook holdouts don’t listen to me when I tell them that I rarely get messaged by old classmates. The holdouts talk about privacy, but don’t want to acknowledge that information about everyone can be found online, somewhere, whether we like it or not.
If you don’t want non-friends to see what you’re up to, it’s easy to quickly learn how to hide one’s ostensibly personal information on Facebook. As an old married man, I don’t care if my parents or bosses see what I’m up to. Even when I was younger and making stupid choices in public, I stayed out of pictures that might embarrass me.
Why are so many thrilled about typing their lunch into this website? Talking about what you ate, seemingly to make others jealous of how much better you’re eating than them, is not charming. It’s like seeing a Food Network program without any explanations or recipes, let alone pretty pictures.
It’s the jealousy angle that fascinates me the most. I don’t get why people think writing, “On the beach in Hawaii. Sooo beautiful!” is helping anyone. The rest of us just hate you for having something that we all want.
I post pictures of trips online, though I worry a little about alienating others. There’s a big difference, though, between seeing a beautiful sunset – or a double rainbow – and merely reading about one. Same with that huge burrito you had for lunch. If it’s so special, why don’t you take a picture of it? The kids on the playground tell me that it’ll last longer.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Column #17: The road to being a writer has twists and turns
"If you don't mind me asking, how did you become a writer?"
The young lady asking this was a friend of a friend.
She had asked if I minded her question, which usually doesn't happen unless the question seems like a rude one. (For example: "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your face?")
The way she asked it was odd, as if being a writer were some weirdly obscure profession that polite people don't talk about. Replace the word "writer" with "executioner" or "prostitute," and you might get a sense of her tone.
However, being a writer is far from an obscurity. I would guess that there are many multiples of millions of people who are writers, or like to consider themselves to be writers.
I considered myself a writer, and would tell people that I was, long before I was ever paid or otherwise recognized for accomplishing such a task.
When I was 14, I tried to write a TV script for the first time. I didn't think it would get produced, but at that time I didn't have many friends, and my ability to play baseball competitively had ended as others grew larger and stronger than me.
If anything benefits a writer, it's having lots of free time and no other more useful abilities.
My favorite TV series at the time was Moonlighting, an inventively comedic detective-romance show. I got 30 pages into my script before I gave up. There are a few reasons why high school freshman don't write for major Hollywood productions. I wish I had kept that script, though. I'm sure it would be fascinating to look at today.
At 22, I moved to Hollywood (or, more precisely, Santa Monica). I didn't know where to go to be a writer, or to whom to give my writings when I was done. I hadn't thought that I had a foolproof plan. I just didn't know what else to do.
A listing in the LA Weekly caught my attention. There was a comedy show happening near my apartment, featuring a comedian I had seen on TV, which is where famous people live!
The show was free. The venue was called Connections or Crossroads and was in a small storefront run by an aging Venice hippie. (It closed months later, because free shows don't help pay the rent.) It - clearly - was not a comedy club. It was more like a workshop for the many free spirits who would perform, for free, in the hopes of being spotted by an agent.
Amateurs were allowed to get up and try to be funny, too. Months later, I, hoping that one five-minute spot would get me hired on The Simpsons, decided to try. Three years later, my writing abilities had improved, though I had learned that I am not a good performer.
I met a girl, Tannis, who also wanted to write for TV. We wrote three scripts, all of which went nowhere. The years were going by, and my personal life was as big a failure as my professional life - good material for writing, but bad for living.
Before L.A., I had spent a year in Louisville, attending the University of I-Can't-Find-a-Parking-Spot-Within-Three-Miles-of-Campus, and I had loved the relatively small scale and pace of the city. A month after I returned, I met a guy in a bar.
A mutual friend told him that I was a writer, and that I knew a lot about music. As a Louisvillian, surely you have recognized that the man I met that night was Jeffrey Lee Puckett, the mayor of Germantown and the pop music guy at our newspaper.
So, that's one way to become a writer.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
The young lady asking this was a friend of a friend.
She had asked if I minded her question, which usually doesn't happen unless the question seems like a rude one. (For example: "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your face?")
The way she asked it was odd, as if being a writer were some weirdly obscure profession that polite people don't talk about. Replace the word "writer" with "executioner" or "prostitute," and you might get a sense of her tone.
However, being a writer is far from an obscurity. I would guess that there are many multiples of millions of people who are writers, or like to consider themselves to be writers.
I considered myself a writer, and would tell people that I was, long before I was ever paid or otherwise recognized for accomplishing such a task.
When I was 14, I tried to write a TV script for the first time. I didn't think it would get produced, but at that time I didn't have many friends, and my ability to play baseball competitively had ended as others grew larger and stronger than me.
If anything benefits a writer, it's having lots of free time and no other more useful abilities.
My favorite TV series at the time was Moonlighting, an inventively comedic detective-romance show. I got 30 pages into my script before I gave up. There are a few reasons why high school freshman don't write for major Hollywood productions. I wish I had kept that script, though. I'm sure it would be fascinating to look at today.
At 22, I moved to Hollywood (or, more precisely, Santa Monica). I didn't know where to go to be a writer, or to whom to give my writings when I was done. I hadn't thought that I had a foolproof plan. I just didn't know what else to do.
A listing in the LA Weekly caught my attention. There was a comedy show happening near my apartment, featuring a comedian I had seen on TV, which is where famous people live!
The show was free. The venue was called Connections or Crossroads and was in a small storefront run by an aging Venice hippie. (It closed months later, because free shows don't help pay the rent.) It - clearly - was not a comedy club. It was more like a workshop for the many free spirits who would perform, for free, in the hopes of being spotted by an agent.
Amateurs were allowed to get up and try to be funny, too. Months later, I, hoping that one five-minute spot would get me hired on The Simpsons, decided to try. Three years later, my writing abilities had improved, though I had learned that I am not a good performer.
I met a girl, Tannis, who also wanted to write for TV. We wrote three scripts, all of which went nowhere. The years were going by, and my personal life was as big a failure as my professional life - good material for writing, but bad for living.
Before L.A., I had spent a year in Louisville, attending the University of I-Can't-Find-a-Parking-Spot-Within-Three-Miles-of-Campus, and I had loved the relatively small scale and pace of the city. A month after I returned, I met a guy in a bar.
A mutual friend told him that I was a writer, and that I knew a lot about music. As a Louisvillian, surely you have recognized that the man I met that night was Jeffrey Lee Puckett, the mayor of Germantown and the pop music guy at our newspaper.
So, that's one way to become a writer.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Column #16: Offbeat picks for mayor could spice up our future
Though a few, bittersweet "Tyler Allen for Mayor" signs remain on lawns across the Highlands, our mayoral primary is over.
Last month, Louisville went back to the polls and voted for the next affluent white man whom we wouldn't mind being mayor more than the other guy.
Though we knew it was coming, it was still a shock when neither our incumbent mayor-for-life nor musician/entrepreneur Scott Ritcher was on the bill.
When Jerry Abramson was first elected mayor, the year was 1813. Now it's 2010, and, like it or not, we're in for some changes. (Don't worry, though -- public radio will continue to play old 10,000 Maniacs and Waterboys discs way too often).
This is an exciting time for Louisville, but one fraught with uncertainty. Will we continue to progress into the future, making great strides with technology, healthy food and "green" living? Or will we continue to dwell on the same issues, causes and excuses that we used in the last century?
I'm not a political genius, and I lack fundamental insight into what it takes to run the 16th- (aka 64th-) largest city in the country. What's great about this country, though, is that I can freely share my ideas about who might make a good future mayor for this city. Most aren't even rich.
Harold Maier would be my first choice. The heart and soul behind the late Twice Told Bookstore is a bold, surprising thinker, as anyone who lingered in the aisles of his shop could testify. While his politics may be a tad to the left of the mainstream, I think "Possibility City" is ready for some surprises.
I doubt that there's any reasonable universe in which his former shop assistant, artist Sean "Rat" Garrison, could run this town. However, if Garrison promised a reunion of his early '90s band, Kinghorse, for everyone who voted for him, I think he could easily win, becoming our Jesse Ventura. There's little this town loves more than nostalgia.
Rob Pennington is another singer/screamer from the good ol' days. Many Louisvillians were raised following his lead -- helping and respecting others and living a thoughtful, responsible life, examples he continues to live by. Pennington is a natural for greater public service. It's a great shame that few of the 1,500 folks excited to see his band Endpoint perform again are as interested in his current work, teaching children with special needs.
There are probably a few folks involved in the sporting world who are good leaders. As a non-sports person, the only one famous enough for me to know about is Coach Rick Pitino. I like Italian food, too, so I know why he probably won't run.
Summer Auerbach, vice president of Rainbow Blossom Natural Food Markets, achieved success at a young age. She has proven that she can run a multifaceted, growing, progressive business. She has been a civic leader and booster, seen often in newspapers and at neighborhood festivals. Best, she is scandal-free, an important quality for a mayor.
A sure bet for the office would have to be James Olliges Jr. You probably know him better by his stage name, Jim James. The leader of My Morning Jacket is evidence that Louisville has more to offer than a two-minute horse race and KFC, and he's a proven uniter of people from different worlds. Who else could so easily share a stage with both John Prine and Erykah Badu?
J.K. McKnight, founder of the Forecastle Festival, is another uniter. Though this paper has had fun pointing out his festival's growing pains through the years, this year's Forecastle promises to be the best yet. What McKnight has accomplished -- taking a neighborhood party in Tyler Park and guiding it into a major regional event - cannot be denied. Has Widespread Panic ever played an inauguration party?
Gill Holland, owner of The Green Building, already wants to make our neighborhoods greener and more artsy. Plus, he has something none of those other non-candidates has: He's not from here. Maybe that's something we need. Also, he's an affluent white man. I hear they do well in politics.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Last month, Louisville went back to the polls and voted for the next affluent white man whom we wouldn't mind being mayor more than the other guy.
Though we knew it was coming, it was still a shock when neither our incumbent mayor-for-life nor musician/entrepreneur Scott Ritcher was on the bill.
When Jerry Abramson was first elected mayor, the year was 1813. Now it's 2010, and, like it or not, we're in for some changes. (Don't worry, though -- public radio will continue to play old 10,000 Maniacs and Waterboys discs way too often).
This is an exciting time for Louisville, but one fraught with uncertainty. Will we continue to progress into the future, making great strides with technology, healthy food and "green" living? Or will we continue to dwell on the same issues, causes and excuses that we used in the last century?
I'm not a political genius, and I lack fundamental insight into what it takes to run the 16th- (aka 64th-) largest city in the country. What's great about this country, though, is that I can freely share my ideas about who might make a good future mayor for this city. Most aren't even rich.
Harold Maier would be my first choice. The heart and soul behind the late Twice Told Bookstore is a bold, surprising thinker, as anyone who lingered in the aisles of his shop could testify. While his politics may be a tad to the left of the mainstream, I think "Possibility City" is ready for some surprises.
I doubt that there's any reasonable universe in which his former shop assistant, artist Sean "Rat" Garrison, could run this town. However, if Garrison promised a reunion of his early '90s band, Kinghorse, for everyone who voted for him, I think he could easily win, becoming our Jesse Ventura. There's little this town loves more than nostalgia.
Rob Pennington is another singer/screamer from the good ol' days. Many Louisvillians were raised following his lead -- helping and respecting others and living a thoughtful, responsible life, examples he continues to live by. Pennington is a natural for greater public service. It's a great shame that few of the 1,500 folks excited to see his band Endpoint perform again are as interested in his current work, teaching children with special needs.
There are probably a few folks involved in the sporting world who are good leaders. As a non-sports person, the only one famous enough for me to know about is Coach Rick Pitino. I like Italian food, too, so I know why he probably won't run.
Summer Auerbach, vice president of Rainbow Blossom Natural Food Markets, achieved success at a young age. She has proven that she can run a multifaceted, growing, progressive business. She has been a civic leader and booster, seen often in newspapers and at neighborhood festivals. Best, she is scandal-free, an important quality for a mayor.
A sure bet for the office would have to be James Olliges Jr. You probably know him better by his stage name, Jim James. The leader of My Morning Jacket is evidence that Louisville has more to offer than a two-minute horse race and KFC, and he's a proven uniter of people from different worlds. Who else could so easily share a stage with both John Prine and Erykah Badu?
J.K. McKnight, founder of the Forecastle Festival, is another uniter. Though this paper has had fun pointing out his festival's growing pains through the years, this year's Forecastle promises to be the best yet. What McKnight has accomplished -- taking a neighborhood party in Tyler Park and guiding it into a major regional event - cannot be denied. Has Widespread Panic ever played an inauguration party?
Gill Holland, owner of The Green Building, already wants to make our neighborhoods greener and more artsy. Plus, he has something none of those other non-candidates has: He's not from here. Maybe that's something we need. Also, he's an affluent white man. I hear they do well in politics.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Jonathan Glen Wood interview
Jonathan Glen Wood is a country/folk/singer-songwriter magician making tentative steps into the Louisville musical jungle. His debut EP, things you find out about the people you love., is available for free listening by clicking here. He'll soon leave for a short East Coast tour with fellow local Johnny Berry.
Where did you grow up?
I grew up in Sissonville, WV, which is about 20 minutes outside the state capitol of Charleston. Once, I bought a copy of a book published by The Onion and a tiny article in the book actually included a bio of a fake soldier from "the rural, impoverished village of Sissonville." They really must have done their homework. It really wasn't a village, but when I was growing up, there was a bar at the mouth of my road called The Village and it was certainly rural and impoverished.
Is your family musical or artistic?
Music and art were never an important part of my family when I was growing up. It was almost taken for granted. The dreams and aspirations of most of the people I knew were to have a family and a job they could retire from. I could never understand why I never shared those goals and felt pretty lost. Creativeness seemed almost equal to daydreaming - it was certainly fun to create, but there was really no future in it and it was shelved. My parents always wanted me to be a dentist. I'm still not really sure why, other than the fact that my mom is obsessed with keeping her teeth clean and white.
What is your musical background / training?
Everything I know about guitar, I learned from my good friend Robin Kessinger. Robin is a renowned old-time flatpick guitar player from close to my neck of the woods, with a musical heritage that's out of this world. It wasn't necessarily the flatpicking aspect that drew me to the guitar. I loved finding new chords and rhythm patterns to play behind fiddlers and lead guitarists. Everyone I knew wanted to be a lead guitar player; I felt like I just wanted to be a strong rhythm player. Robin started taking me around the country on gigs with him to back him up and I learned so much from so many incredible players along the way.
I always dabbled in songwriting on the side, but never really thought about playing much on my own. I liked singing a song or two in sets with the folks I played with. I completely quit playing music for almost two years right before I moved to Louisville, due to lots of job stress. I decided playing and writing made me happy and I needed to strive to do it more often. Louisville has given me a fabulous opportunity to be creative and happy.
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
Most of the usual suspects. When I began writing songs, Hank Williams, Norman Blake, Townes Van Zandt and Merle Haggard were probably my biggest influences. I felt so connected to their words and delivery. I still think they were/are the greatest poets that ever lived. I went through a pretty large Gram Parsons phase when I discovered him. My mom was a huge John Prine fan, so I still hold those first few Prine records dear. One music related childhood memory I do have is knowing all the words to "Illegal Smile." I had no idea what an illegal smile was at that point, but I could sing the hell out of it. Over time, I certainly learned what it meant.
I'm interested in so many different things. Can I just list some things that I'm fairly obsessed with? Ginny Hawker and Tracy Schwarz, The Byrds, The Delmore Brothers, The Delta Sisters, Jody Stecher, Tex Ritter, Hamper McBee... the list just goes on and on.
Being new to Louisville, I'm completely inspired by the immense talent that surrounds me. I'm also flattered to call some of my favorite singers and songwriters in the country, friends. Thomas A. Minor and the Picket Line, Elephant Micah, Joe Manning, The Ladybirds, Johnny Berry, Andrew Iafrate, Maiden Radio, Mickey Clark, Young Widows, Nathan Salsburg, Glen Dentinger, Natural Geographic... all continue to reassure me that Louisville has one of the richest music communities in the country.
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
Usually when I play out, my good friend Andrew Iafrate accompanies me. He's actually from West Virginia as well and I've known him before we both ended up here in Louisville. Our voices and ideas blend well, and playing with him has shaped some new creativity.
I've got a few new things on the horizon that I'm really excited about. I've been writing a lot of songs with Oscar Parsons, of Thomas A. Minor and the Picket Line, for a project we hope to get off the ground sometime soon. Oscar is a kindred hillbilly. We got to talking about where we grew up and our circles started overlapping. We know some of the same folks. We sat down with guitars and three and four songs started happening at a time.
I'm also writing some things with Evan Patterson of Young Widows. Evan and I met last year when I played a show with him and Dan Davis under the moniker Bad Secrets. It was completely improvised and I was terrified. I lived, though, and Evan and I stayed in touch. We've been talking about collaborating for a while and lately we've been working some things out. We're both pretty excited about the sound.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
I just want to keep doing what makes me happy. The only "goal" that I have is to make an album at some point down the road. I don't put time lines on many things, for better or worse. Maybe a few people will like what I'm doing and come out to a show? Oh, I also hope to make enough money to buy a decent ribbon microphone.
Jonathan Glen Wood plays at Sunergos Coffee on Saturday, June 12th, along with Andrew Iafrate and Joan Shelley. The concert begins at 7 p.m. and is free.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Joan Shelley interview
Joan Shelley is a busy woman starting to make her name in Louisville's ever-fertile music scene. Her first album, By Dawnlight, produced by Danny Kiely and featuring appearances by some of the city's finest session players, is being released, an occasion celebrated by a concert on the Glassworks rooftop, on Friday June 4th, with her friend and collaborator Cheyenne Marie Mize, who is also releasing her first album. She will also perform on Saturday June 12th at Sunergos Coffee.
Where did you grow up?
I grew up in Louisville, or just outside of it really, on a few acres just east of the city. I gained access to Louisville only first through the ever encroaching suburbs in the east end. And that was dull. It was only until after coming back to town about two years ago that I really started to feel that I was from Louisville.
Is your family musical or artistic?
My dad is an artist and a painter. He has been the greatest source of inspiration and confidence in choosing this path. Besides him, I had a very art/music-loving family that raised me. I have one of the most supportive families of anyone doing what I am trying to do.
What is your musical background / training?
I have been singing forever, in whatever form I could. I started writing songs in elementary school. I've walked around singing into a handheld recorder for most of my 24 years. I was in all kinds of school choirs up until college, when I started playing in bars down in Athens, Georgia. I picked up instruments along the way to support my songwriting. I would say that the most intense learning has happened in the past year and a half, in recording this album with Danny Kiely and playing with Maiden Radio and several other great musicians around town.
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
I have to say that Gillian Welch and Jolie Holland were the biggest game-changers for me. They turned me on to old-time music and a kind of vocal delivery that has hung in my head like smoke since the day I first heard them. Along with them, I think Bonnie Raitt, Neko Case, J.J. Cale, Betty Davis, Gram Parsons and Townes Van Zandt have been significant influences on me and on how I thought music ought to be done. And Paul Simon can write a song. I’ve always wanted to be able to do it like he does.
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
I currently have my solo project, Maiden Radio, and a very new thing with Joe Manning. It’s a pretty exciting time. Maiden Radio happened last fall when I met Cheyenne Mize through some mutual musician friends. We were all playing and singing around a campfire when Cheyenne and I realized that we had a really good sound going. She knew another great vocalist and player, Julia Purcell, and we’ve been having a great time playing together ever since. Then I met Joe Manning just a few months ago and started playing with him to see what would happen. It was another easy fit, and, as rare as those can be, we plan to make something good come out of it.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
There's a long answer to this. But for now... I just want to write some good tunes and one day, a really great song that melts everybody's hearts. Is that too much to ask?
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Califone interview
"All My Friends Are Funeral Singers" by Califone from Secretly Jag on Vimeo.
Califone is a fantastically fascinating band based in Chicago. Leader Tim Rutili first emerged in the early '90's with Red Red Meat, an equally fascinating band who took a left turn when peers such as Smashing Pumpkins and Urge Overkill went right. Califone began in 1998 as a solo project, but quickly evolved into a powerhouse band. Rutili, who is also a filmmaker, was kind enough to discuss his music with me in advance of Califone's June 11th concert at The 930 Art Center in Germantown, which promotes their latest album, All My Friends Are Funeral Singers.
The first time I saw you was with Red Red Meat at the Middle East in Boston, probably in '93, and I can still see, in my mind, the sight of you sandwiched between two 6'7" guys. You've played to movies live, and now you're promoting a movie that goes along with your recent album. How important are visuals to you when it comes to presenting your music?
We always made visual music. Even the lyrics are usually more about images than emotions.
Playing to film has always been a great trigger for coming up with musical ideas that are a bit out of our comfort zone.
I first learned about that playing in Boxhead Ensemble and doing a tour playing live to films. Jim Becker also played in that band and we had similar experiences.
When we tried the film/music performance with Califone we found that ideas flowed a little faster and we were playing things that we wouldn't normally play. It was really fun to do. Maybe because our eyes were busy we were able to play a bit more without thinking about it too much.
With Funeral Singers, we wanted to make a song-based album but also design a film to play live to. The challenge was to make sure we were always serving the story in the film and make sure we were not being too slavish to the story on the album.
We wanted to make sure to bring the audience into the picture with us. Presenting the film with the live band is a great way to do that. It's kind of like an aural 3D movie. It seemed like making the film and presenting it this way was something we had been working toward since Califone started.
Can we expect to see your film projected at the show at the 930 Center?
The show at 930 will be just music. We've been playing to the film quite a bit and we need to play some songs again.
All My Friends is about ghosts, and different mental states. Your music also employs found voices and sounds at times. Are different mental conditions something you think about or deal with in life? How do you feel about the relationship between genius and insanity?
Genius and insanity are both probably annoying conditions. I used to think creativity came from making myself crazy and spilling my guts all over the floor. Now I know that the best ideas come when I can quiet my mind.
A lot of Funeral Singers is about this process. Letting go of all those voices, ghosts, and noises that keep us company and are familiar but also prevent us from finding some peace and joy in this world.
How do you describe your music to older relatives or new acquaintances who might not be familiar with some of your less well-known influences?
I try not to talk about it. Usually, if I have to, I just say it's a rock band - like the Beatles. I never was too good at explaining myself.
As an underground band seemingly unconcerned with pop fame, has the music industry collapse affected you?
I still love making music and I always will, but we are older and, at this point, we do what we want. I always hope people find our music and love it and give us lots of money, but I still haven't figured out exactly how to make that happen and I am trying to be OK with that.
You've played with the Louisville born-and-bred Freakwater. What's your impression of our city?
I have some great friends from Louisville but I've never really spent enough time there to explore. Can you recommend any good places to eat?
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Column #15: Neil, this is no time to let me down
One of the best concerts I ever saw was Neil Young and Crazy Horse, on their Ragged Glory tour in the spring of 1991. After suffering through the 1980s perhaps even more than the rest of us, Neil was back.
His comeback had begun 18 months earlier with his album Freedom and its instant anthem, "Rockin’ in the Free World". Like the best rock ‘n’ roll, it was deeply profound and deeply dumb at the same time. Also like the best, it spoke both to its time (Tiananmen Square, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Debbie Gibson) and to all of time.
It was exciting, like the best rock ‘n’ roll, because it was wrong. It was wrong in so many ways - Neil was 46 and already seemed even older; he was a folkie and a hippie and a Canadian in George Bush the elder’s America.
He had been washed up like Bob Dylan, adrift in the “Greed is good” decade and unsure what to say next or how to say it, just a step ahead of his pals Crosby, Stills and Nash, burnouts turned yuppie symbols of everything wrong with capitalism, drugs and too much pie.
So how was this guy and his killer band able to come back, rocking a hundred times heavier than most other bands half their age?
Because instead of touring with another Baby Boomer like Bonnie Raitt or Santana, which surely would have been easy, Young picked two unexpected up-and-coming underground bands, Sonic Youth and Social Distortion, to take on the road with him.
He was making a statement, and it landed. Social D was a safer pick, a traditional rock band made up of guys with greased hair and blue jeans, guys who looked like they should have been the roadies. Still, they played rockabilly fast with ex-punk-junkie attitude, and they didn’t have a hit single on the radio.
Sonic Youth was and remains, to a degree, a wildly inventive, deconstructed art rock band that seemed then as though they’d rather play in front of a foreign film than in front of 13,000 classic rock fans in a basketball arena.
After getting through three or four songs, none well-received, they rubbed their guitars against their giant amps for another 15 minutes without attempting anything like melody. The crowd, full of bikers of both genders with large bellies and long ponytails, made their displeasure known. But 16-year-old me, who enjoyed seeing the popular people made uncomfortable, had found heroes who would guide me for years to come.
As Neil Young and Crazy Horse hit the stage, we all rose to our feet, banging our heads and crying out, “Yes! Yes!” as the maelstrom of fury and passion traveled from the stage to the rafters. Though the majority of his fans missed Neil’s suggestion that, in 1991, he might have more in common with Sonic Youth than James Taylor, it was still great to revel in the noise with so many others.
A year later, Nirvana was the biggest name in music. Neil was named an honorary “godfather of grunge” and would soon collaborate with Pearl Jam.
He also made a return to his folk roots with Harvest Moon, confirming his inability to sit still or to do what’s working, what’s safe or what's profitable if his muse won’t allow it.
So I’m worried about his concert next week, his first full concert in Louisville since 1983.
For one thing, it doesn’t even seem like a full concert. He’s going to sit down and most likely play the hits on an acoustic guitar, singing things like “Old man, take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you.” (He wrote that when he was 27.)
I can’t get excited about such safe nostalgia from someone who’s always pushed forward, especially at such high prices during a recession.
I don’t think the Neil I loved would be excited, either.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
His comeback had begun 18 months earlier with his album Freedom and its instant anthem, "Rockin’ in the Free World". Like the best rock ‘n’ roll, it was deeply profound and deeply dumb at the same time. Also like the best, it spoke both to its time (Tiananmen Square, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Debbie Gibson) and to all of time.
It was exciting, like the best rock ‘n’ roll, because it was wrong. It was wrong in so many ways - Neil was 46 and already seemed even older; he was a folkie and a hippie and a Canadian in George Bush the elder’s America.
He had been washed up like Bob Dylan, adrift in the “Greed is good” decade and unsure what to say next or how to say it, just a step ahead of his pals Crosby, Stills and Nash, burnouts turned yuppie symbols of everything wrong with capitalism, drugs and too much pie.
So how was this guy and his killer band able to come back, rocking a hundred times heavier than most other bands half their age?
Because instead of touring with another Baby Boomer like Bonnie Raitt or Santana, which surely would have been easy, Young picked two unexpected up-and-coming underground bands, Sonic Youth and Social Distortion, to take on the road with him.
He was making a statement, and it landed. Social D was a safer pick, a traditional rock band made up of guys with greased hair and blue jeans, guys who looked like they should have been the roadies. Still, they played rockabilly fast with ex-punk-junkie attitude, and they didn’t have a hit single on the radio.
Sonic Youth was and remains, to a degree, a wildly inventive, deconstructed art rock band that seemed then as though they’d rather play in front of a foreign film than in front of 13,000 classic rock fans in a basketball arena.
After getting through three or four songs, none well-received, they rubbed their guitars against their giant amps for another 15 minutes without attempting anything like melody. The crowd, full of bikers of both genders with large bellies and long ponytails, made their displeasure known. But 16-year-old me, who enjoyed seeing the popular people made uncomfortable, had found heroes who would guide me for years to come.
As Neil Young and Crazy Horse hit the stage, we all rose to our feet, banging our heads and crying out, “Yes! Yes!” as the maelstrom of fury and passion traveled from the stage to the rafters. Though the majority of his fans missed Neil’s suggestion that, in 1991, he might have more in common with Sonic Youth than James Taylor, it was still great to revel in the noise with so many others.
A year later, Nirvana was the biggest name in music. Neil was named an honorary “godfather of grunge” and would soon collaborate with Pearl Jam.
He also made a return to his folk roots with Harvest Moon, confirming his inability to sit still or to do what’s working, what’s safe or what's profitable if his muse won’t allow it.
So I’m worried about his concert next week, his first full concert in Louisville since 1983.
For one thing, it doesn’t even seem like a full concert. He’s going to sit down and most likely play the hits on an acoustic guitar, singing things like “Old man, take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you.” (He wrote that when he was 27.)
I can’t get excited about such safe nostalgia from someone who’s always pushed forward, especially at such high prices during a recession.
I don’t think the Neil I loved would be excited, either.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Cheyenne Marie Mize interview
Cheynne Marie Mize's debut album, Before Lately, is now available. See her next on Friday, June 4th at Glassworks.
Where did you grow up? Is your family musical or artistic?
I've lived in Louisville more years than not, but I grew up on a farm in southern Kentucky. My dad's family is both musical and artistic... everyone is either a musician, painter, architect, or some combination of the three. I grew up hearing my mom sing and play piano, but she never did music professionally.
What is your musical background / training?
Different, depending on the instrument... I have played piano the longest, had a few lessons when I was young and have been learning on my own ever since. I started guitar and violin when I was 10... played violin in school orchestras, then eventually started picking up some other styles along the way. All my guitar playing, I learned from just trying to figure out songs I heard or trying to imitate my brother or uncle. Banjo, dulcimer, autoharp, and drums, I just fool around with when I'm alone, or when someone is silly enough to let me play them in a band (thanks, ladies!).
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
Just a few from old to new: Debussy, the Carter Family, Hank Williams, Pink Floyd, Ali Farka Toure, Dirty Three, PJ Harvey, Radiohead, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, Neutral Milk Hotel, Shannon Wright, Susanna Wallumrod, I could go on and on about more contemporary artists and new favorites...
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
Oh, boy. Listing all these makes me hyperventilate a little, because then I realize how much work I need to be doing right now instead of answering these questions... Arnett Hollow, Maiden Radio, Ben Sollee, Saredren Wells, Thomas A. Minor and the Picket Line, Joe Manning, The Health & Happiness Family Gospel Band, the Dear Companion touring band with Ben Sollee & Daniel Martin Moore, and now some of my own music, as well, with the help of many of the above-mentioned artists. I have or will play and/or record with these groups/artists this month. I got involved with all of them because of Louisville.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
To me, this is like asking, "What do hope to achieve by breathing?" It's not really a choice, there's no real final outcome. It's just what I do.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Deep Wells
Drew Sellers, aka Saredren Wells, dives into the rich flow of local music
The Louisville music scene has much in common with, of all things, the Louisville tap water scene.
Both seem to be endless streams of fresh rejuvenation, and both are acclaimed as models of American excellence at work.
Drew Sellers is entering that flow.
Today, 28-year-old Sellers is known to music fans as Sareden Wells. His indie folk songs, evocative of long walks on cool fall nights, have been captured in an album, Memories Are Hunting Horns... which has been released this week on vinyl and for download by the Louisville Is For Lovers label at louisvilleisforlovers.com.
After contributing cuts to John King’s annual Louisville is for Lovers compilations, Sellers finally decided that the time was right to strike out on his own.
The occasion is being celebrated with two events, a performance on WFPK-FM's Live Lunch at noon Friday and a concert on the Glassworks rooftop later that evening.
"I’ve spent a lot of time around music — we’re old friends, you might say,” Sellers said. “What’s nice is that I didn’t know a thing about how music worked when I was younger, so I got my start getting inside of it in a way that was very free and open.”
Sellers grew up playing music in Louisville. He credits his mother for giving him his drive.
"While she never pursued music formally, she definitely has the mind for it,” he said. “We are both very good at mulling things over, and I think a lot of what makes a person artistically-motivated — as opposed to life-motivated — comes from that."
But a free and open musical environment only gets you so far, Sellers said.
“There did come a time when I realized that, in order to accomplish certain things musically, I would probably have to get some formal training," he said.
So Sellers began his studies in college, including a semester at the prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston. Eventually, the pendulum swung back the other way and he decided to go back to an instinctual approach.
"I want to say and do and make things that reflect what life is like,” he said, “so that while we are all here sort of hanging out we can look at it and have some sort of conversation about it. That’s really it."
His primary inspiration comes from the neighborhood.
He counts a few local pioneers — including David Grubbs of Gastr Del Sol, Rachel Grimes of Rachel’s and Brian McMahan of Slint — as "spiritual advisors." After launching his debut in his beloved hometown, Sellers is taking Sareden Wells on the road for a series of concerts with fiddler/singer Cheyenne Marie Mize, another local trying to make waves with a debut record.
Meanwhile, he's listening to a lot of music, trying to figure out where his instincts will take him next.
"Like most folks these days, I’d say my taste kind of runs the gamut," Sellers said. "I especially like things that get to you where you never thought anyone else would ever be able to go."
Sellers likes to try for a little mystery, so it was with reluctance that he revealed the origin of his alter ego. Sareden Wells is an anagram of his full name, Andrew Sellers.
"It's almost like a mythological name or something, something that's stranger than life," he said.
"I remember years ago reading 'Catch-22' and parts of 'Crime and Punishment', thinking to myself, 'Yossarian, Raskolnikov, now those are names that mean something'."
"I feel like it's kind of a bummer to let people in on that. Kind of takes away from the evocative and enigmatic nature of the name."
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
The Louisville music scene has much in common with, of all things, the Louisville tap water scene.
Both seem to be endless streams of fresh rejuvenation, and both are acclaimed as models of American excellence at work.
Drew Sellers is entering that flow.
Today, 28-year-old Sellers is known to music fans as Sareden Wells. His indie folk songs, evocative of long walks on cool fall nights, have been captured in an album, Memories Are Hunting Horns... which has been released this week on vinyl and for download by the Louisville Is For Lovers label at louisvilleisforlovers.com.
After contributing cuts to John King’s annual Louisville is for Lovers compilations, Sellers finally decided that the time was right to strike out on his own.
The occasion is being celebrated with two events, a performance on WFPK-FM's Live Lunch at noon Friday and a concert on the Glassworks rooftop later that evening.
"I’ve spent a lot of time around music — we’re old friends, you might say,” Sellers said. “What’s nice is that I didn’t know a thing about how music worked when I was younger, so I got my start getting inside of it in a way that was very free and open.”
Sellers grew up playing music in Louisville. He credits his mother for giving him his drive.
"While she never pursued music formally, she definitely has the mind for it,” he said. “We are both very good at mulling things over, and I think a lot of what makes a person artistically-motivated — as opposed to life-motivated — comes from that."
But a free and open musical environment only gets you so far, Sellers said.
“There did come a time when I realized that, in order to accomplish certain things musically, I would probably have to get some formal training," he said.
So Sellers began his studies in college, including a semester at the prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston. Eventually, the pendulum swung back the other way and he decided to go back to an instinctual approach.
"I want to say and do and make things that reflect what life is like,” he said, “so that while we are all here sort of hanging out we can look at it and have some sort of conversation about it. That’s really it."
His primary inspiration comes from the neighborhood.
He counts a few local pioneers — including David Grubbs of Gastr Del Sol, Rachel Grimes of Rachel’s and Brian McMahan of Slint — as "spiritual advisors." After launching his debut in his beloved hometown, Sellers is taking Sareden Wells on the road for a series of concerts with fiddler/singer Cheyenne Marie Mize, another local trying to make waves with a debut record.
Meanwhile, he's listening to a lot of music, trying to figure out where his instincts will take him next.
"Like most folks these days, I’d say my taste kind of runs the gamut," Sellers said. "I especially like things that get to you where you never thought anyone else would ever be able to go."
Sellers likes to try for a little mystery, so it was with reluctance that he revealed the origin of his alter ego. Sareden Wells is an anagram of his full name, Andrew Sellers.
"It's almost like a mythological name or something, something that's stranger than life," he said.
"I remember years ago reading 'Catch-22' and parts of 'Crime and Punishment', thinking to myself, 'Yossarian, Raskolnikov, now those are names that mean something'."
"I feel like it's kind of a bummer to let people in on that. Kind of takes away from the evocative and enigmatic nature of the name."
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Column #14: Your fun and my fun aren't the same
If you like to have fun, you’ve probably bothered me on at least two recent occasions.
I like fun, but I hate your fun. Most of the fun I enjoy includes normal, mainstream, socially acceptable activities, sometimes involving alcohol and/or nudity. I’m certainly not some prim preacher shouting about the declining moral fiber of this nation. Nothing good ever happened without declining morals. I just hate the way that many of you, who aren’t me, have fun.
First, let’s talk about adult beverages. Have you heard the good news? Being an adult means that you can have a drink pretty much any time you want! So, enjoy!
St. Patrick’s Day: I like Irish folks and their culture, but I also like plenty of other cultures, too. Is there a reason why you still, way past college age, get all excited about a day where you tell yourself that it’s cool and awesome to drink beer for 12 hours straight? Isn’t that what Saturdays are for already?
Have you heard about Cinco de Mayo? That’s a great example of another culture I appreciate, those masked wrestlers who speak Spanish and their relatives. You do know that they will be the majority of this country before next Tuesday, yes? If nothing else, the weather is much better in May, and I have fun being outside when it’s not still 38 degrees, like it is in March. Still, I don’t see that overtaking St. Patrick’s Day as our national day of drinking any time soon.
Is it less popular in Louisville because it occurs two days after Derby, and you’re still hung over from drinking overpriced, watered-down Mint Juleps? I’ve been to Derby twice, and I’ve had the worst Mint Juleps of my life there. How many of you really love watching horses race and spend more than two minutes a year doing so? Also, how often do you do it while dressed up like someone who thinks that fashion hasn’t evolved since Gone With the Wind?
Speaking of dressing up like a jerk, why is Halloween still fascinating to people who are older than 8? Last year, I’ll bet that 4 in every 5 big city Americans dressed up like Lady Gaga. If you want to be special and have everyone tell you how original and interesting you are, why not dress up like Lady Gaga on a random night six months before Halloween? At the bar, everyone will talk about you, and I bet you’ll drink for free all night – especially if you’re a dude.
Is it that everyone just wants to follow the crowd, and only be “weird” when no one will actually notice? If I’d had a choice, I would’ve loved to have gone through this life as Weird Al Yankovic.
I like music, movies, TV, art, food and beverages, socializing and a good laugh. Life is to be enjoyed whenever possible. But I can’t think of anything less fun than watching Dancing with the Stars. Seriously, people, why do you hate dance so much? Also, why is watching reality TV stars dancing badly more fascinating than watching them raise children badly?
Also not funny: April Fool’s Day. Tell friends that you’re quitting your job and becoming born again on a day when people aren’t expecting some lame attempt at shock. See if that gets ‘em rolling in the aisles.
My outsider view of fun surely stems from my childhood, where I was raised Jewish and loved playing baseball. It’s hard to enjoy Christmas, Easter and the Super Bowl under those circumstances. I never understood “Good Friday” – isn’t every Friday good?
At the very least, can your fun not inconvenience me? Can I get a good latte on Christmas? Can I drive downtown while you stare at minor league fireworks? Can your college basketball not preempt my TV shows?
Please, think about me next time you want to have fun. You’re probably doing it wrong.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
I like fun, but I hate your fun. Most of the fun I enjoy includes normal, mainstream, socially acceptable activities, sometimes involving alcohol and/or nudity. I’m certainly not some prim preacher shouting about the declining moral fiber of this nation. Nothing good ever happened without declining morals. I just hate the way that many of you, who aren’t me, have fun.
First, let’s talk about adult beverages. Have you heard the good news? Being an adult means that you can have a drink pretty much any time you want! So, enjoy!
St. Patrick’s Day: I like Irish folks and their culture, but I also like plenty of other cultures, too. Is there a reason why you still, way past college age, get all excited about a day where you tell yourself that it’s cool and awesome to drink beer for 12 hours straight? Isn’t that what Saturdays are for already?
Have you heard about Cinco de Mayo? That’s a great example of another culture I appreciate, those masked wrestlers who speak Spanish and their relatives. You do know that they will be the majority of this country before next Tuesday, yes? If nothing else, the weather is much better in May, and I have fun being outside when it’s not still 38 degrees, like it is in March. Still, I don’t see that overtaking St. Patrick’s Day as our national day of drinking any time soon.
Is it less popular in Louisville because it occurs two days after Derby, and you’re still hung over from drinking overpriced, watered-down Mint Juleps? I’ve been to Derby twice, and I’ve had the worst Mint Juleps of my life there. How many of you really love watching horses race and spend more than two minutes a year doing so? Also, how often do you do it while dressed up like someone who thinks that fashion hasn’t evolved since Gone With the Wind?
Speaking of dressing up like a jerk, why is Halloween still fascinating to people who are older than 8? Last year, I’ll bet that 4 in every 5 big city Americans dressed up like Lady Gaga. If you want to be special and have everyone tell you how original and interesting you are, why not dress up like Lady Gaga on a random night six months before Halloween? At the bar, everyone will talk about you, and I bet you’ll drink for free all night – especially if you’re a dude.
Is it that everyone just wants to follow the crowd, and only be “weird” when no one will actually notice? If I’d had a choice, I would’ve loved to have gone through this life as Weird Al Yankovic.
I like music, movies, TV, art, food and beverages, socializing and a good laugh. Life is to be enjoyed whenever possible. But I can’t think of anything less fun than watching Dancing with the Stars. Seriously, people, why do you hate dance so much? Also, why is watching reality TV stars dancing badly more fascinating than watching them raise children badly?
Also not funny: April Fool’s Day. Tell friends that you’re quitting your job and becoming born again on a day when people aren’t expecting some lame attempt at shock. See if that gets ‘em rolling in the aisles.
My outsider view of fun surely stems from my childhood, where I was raised Jewish and loved playing baseball. It’s hard to enjoy Christmas, Easter and the Super Bowl under those circumstances. I never understood “Good Friday” – isn’t every Friday good?
At the very least, can your fun not inconvenience me? Can I get a good latte on Christmas? Can I drive downtown while you stare at minor league fireworks? Can your college basketball not preempt my TV shows?
Please, think about me next time you want to have fun. You’re probably doing it wrong.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
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