It's been one busy fucking week. Who would believe it could be done without major chemical assistance. Yet here's an honest to constipated breathless recap.
Last weekend the weather was picture perfect. And the pignic went off spectacularly, if a bit chaotic at points. We had a lot of people there. Next year I'd suggest we be more structured in terms of food delivery (like say, sausages from 1-2p, chicken from 2-3p, burgers from 3-4p, ribs from 4-5p, the pig from 5-7p and then desserts), and more proactively shove shit down people's throats (-- at least on my part, since I still have like forty fucking hot dogs in my frig). Though somehow, most of the chili disappeared.
Saw a lot of people I hadn't seen in a long time. It's good to know that our event still has the power to bring folks together once a year. A lot of fucking babies too. We got busted twice for open containers (booze is officially prohibited in the park), but we managed to cut a deal (get everything cupped) and kept our party rolling. There were a lot of people missing (notably Bluestem, Anton, Jackson, JimSchu, Gozzer, Processed, Noodles, and maybe even YOU), but like I said, we were purt-near at capacity as it was. Closed out the night doing a pignic-post-mortem analysis with Cozy at the Prairie Moon. Say next year we go for a hundred head and cook the beast ourselves?
Sunday I awoke around noon to find our Russian Friend's gal KiKi and her daughter in our house, eM was pouring Mimosas. Roll with the flow I did. We went over to Cozy and Nico's for dinner and tried to eat as many of my leftover hot dogs as poss. Dre thoroughly enjoyed his first dog ever. I had three tofu Italian sausages and felt a'waddlingly bloated for the rest of the evening.
Monday was a hard day at work, followed by Pulpit practice in anticipation of this weekend's third annual Klas festival. New guitar is working well and this should be a very fun show.
Tuesday I went to work, came home and did Dre duty while eM went to Shiatsu. I went to sleep when he did, at 8:30p, gathering strength for the action-packed week ahead.
Wednesday I went to work, came home and hung out with Dre while eM went to Shiatsu. Made a pizza, left half for eM, then when she got back, I left to see Hypermodal at Martyrs at 10:30p. Caught the last half of their show. Loudest yet, grooviest beats. Then we-the-assembled became this crazy party at the bar next door where the bartender was serving everybody free shots of Bushmills. Bad news. Got home at 2:45a. Which made the next morning difficult.
Yesterday I stayed home from work while eM went in for a yearly physical exam. Dre and I had some yogurt, pooped twice, did some homeschooling work on letters and numbers and shredded a feather. We also listened to the WBEZ program 848, which on this particular morning was engineered by our fave drummer Liz.
It was crazy because they had Cheap Trick in the studio being interviewed and then doing a ripping version of Surrender, which is prolly the finest post-Beatles pop tune ever penned. I was singing it to Dre in our Kitchen and he was dancing along: "mommy's alrite, daddy's alrite, they just seem a little weird. Surrender, Surrender, but don't give yourself away, ay ay" oh, but the hidden blissful moments of parenthood.
eM came back and I went in to work for a half day, starting in to a new project meeting, forgetting to eat lunch. Post-work sponsored party at Pequod's to celebrate completion of another work project I was part of (free pizza and beer, woot!), followed by Coy Cam practice at Durwood's studio for tonight's midnight show. Got home at 10:15p, then played the Pulpit set in the kitchen on unplugged electric until 11:15p, then crawled into bed next to eM.
Today I took the entire day off. Got up with Dre at 7a, let eM sleep in until 10. We went on our dog walk past the apple tree, saw some squirrels, then we went to the store and did some daddy-son shopping-slash-technically-illegal-in-store-snacking. Kiki came over with Little Jo. I left the ladies alone and met Bobby Z for lunch.
At this moment I am preparing myself for this afternoon's Pitchfork concert and the Coy Cam show thereafter. Leather flask with whiskey? Check. Joints rolled? Check. One-hitter cleaned and packed? Check. Extra t-shirts? Check. Vox Effects bag? Check. Amp? Have to pick that up from the Pulpit rehearsal space on the way down to the Bottom Lounge, where I'm conglomerating with The Hen and some work folk prior to heading over to the festival grounds.
eM was my original escort for this event but as she decided (post Meat Puppets) that she was not into spending all day at an outdoor amplified music mess, we gifted her ticket to The Hen. She instead is going to get some Shiatsu work done.
Me, I could not resist to buy my ticket immediately (sucker!) and I confess that I-cannot-wait-oh-how-I-cannot-wait to see four of the biggest bands of my late-aural-aesthetic-formative-period (say, early twenties) perform on the same (this very) evening:
5:00 Tortoise
6:10 Yo La Tengo
7:20 The Jesus Lizard
8:40 Built to Spill
After that I'll be heading over to the nearby legendary liquor-store-slash-bar Cal's Liquors to perform with Coy Cam, at midnight. That's going to be some lark. How will I manage to stay awake? Well, Pitchfork is sponsored by Sparks, which is the latest rage with all the kidz. Yeah, have your edge and get sloppy all at the same time. Just what I love: belligerent, amped-up drunks. Fuck that noise.
Tomorrow is Klas, our little thing. Looking forward to seeing Curry, who is driving up to perform with The Suneaters, and the first glint of Hen's new band, Magik Lasso. Sadly, Coy Cam has begged off performing at Klas, our drummer citing the lack of an acoustic kit. I'm fine with that, as it makes the evening a bit smoother for me. Plan to get out there around 3p, help with the setup, probably won't get finished until 1 or 2a, when we've dragged all the gear back down into The Hen's basement again.
Sunday is the day of rest. But now, I'm fucking off.
1 comments:
Close to Dubrovnik, I had grilled squid stuffed with a milder, creamier version of feta cheese. It was the only thing there that didn't taste like half-rate Italian food.
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