Okay, I got the message. Nobody reads the blog, everyone misses Moist Rub and the last post was outed as a thinly veiled attempt to show how cool I am by telling you about bands you never heard of.
I'm quitting, going to pretend I'm a woman, and join the mommy blog community.
Thanks and regards,
Sid
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Show Me The Way
In planning my upcoming concert calendar, it appears there are some conflicts... I think I already know which shows I'm choosing, but which would you pick? (This is also a covert way to see if anyone still reads this damn blog.)
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I Salute You, Brother
I just discovered that Jim Carroll died, died last Friday. I confess I've never read any of his stuff and I've never seen The Basketball Diaries, but damn if he didn't put out one of my favorite songs.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
No Logic On The Horizon
I’m clearly schizophrenic when it comes to music. I scoff at popular music with nearly the gusto of the indie hipster with the fixie, but will readily ‘fess up to downloading a top 40 tune to feed my appreciation for the perfect pop song. I’ll make fun of those same indie hipsters, but then throw down a Neutral Milk Hotel lyric just to mess with people. I despise the big stadium show and make fun of people who go to see Elton John and Billy Joel in this decade. And then I get tickets to see U2 at Soldier Field.
And then come here to report that the show was absolutely spectacular. They’re really fucking good. Despite all that shit The Edge does with effects, the songs play well to a stadium show. The ridiculously large claw structure and video screen that they’re carting around the world is awe inducing. And that they can coordinate the sound, effects, lighting, video and technology for this event seemingly without a hitch is a logistical and production achievement that blows my mind and really needs to be seen. It was like being in the middle of an MTV video. In a good way. Not one of those Men Without Hats videos where they dance around a renaissance faire, either.
I’m Sid F’er, and I approve this tour. Save up some cash, sell a kid if you need to, but get yourself a ticket.
If I have some time I’ll add some additional details of our day, aka Mrs. F’er Bueller’s Day Off.
And then come here to report that the show was absolutely spectacular. They’re really fucking good. Despite all that shit The Edge does with effects, the songs play well to a stadium show. The ridiculously large claw structure and video screen that they’re carting around the world is awe inducing. And that they can coordinate the sound, effects, lighting, video and technology for this event seemingly without a hitch is a logistical and production achievement that blows my mind and really needs to be seen. It was like being in the middle of an MTV video. In a good way. Not one of those Men Without Hats videos where they dance around a renaissance faire, either.
I’m Sid F’er, and I approve this tour. Save up some cash, sell a kid if you need to, but get yourself a ticket.
If I have some time I’ll add some additional details of our day, aka Mrs. F’er Bueller’s Day Off.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
F'er Living
My doctor gave me another six months to live with an option to renew, so I was feeling pretty good today. As such, instead of my mid-afternoon snack consisting of a can of Pringles crushed and sprinkled over a quart of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia, I decided to celebrate my continued existence by treating my body like the Temple of Doom which it is and sliced up some sticks of celery.
I also learned that you're not supposed to put celery in a garbage disposal. Who the hell knew? Oh, I guess everyone.
I swear if they made levees out of shredded celery, New Orleans would still be standing today. After a half hour under the sink unplugging pipes (not a euphemism), I learned my lesson. Stick to ice cream and Pringles.
I also learned that you're not supposed to put celery in a garbage disposal. Who the hell knew? Oh, I guess everyone.
I swear if they made levees out of shredded celery, New Orleans would still be standing today. After a half hour under the sink unplugging pipes (not a euphemism), I learned my lesson. Stick to ice cream and Pringles.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
On The Waterfront
I was a very strange kid. I wanted to be a meteorologist when I grew up. Well, not exactly... more like I wanted to be the TV weatherman. I even had one of those Junior Weatherman kits that you could use to measure rainfall, wind speed and temperature and a log to record it all. Of course, this was well before Excel was invented so I lost interest and took up something more interesting, like bowling. Now I'm embarrassed to admit I still don't really understand what the dew point is and why I need to know that.
I also don't understand why the weather report on the news takes five minutes. All we really care about is the damn forecast. Do I need to wear my slicker and rubbers, or can I just wear my "Somebody Went To Branson And All I Got Was This Stupid Shirt" shirt? Instead we get computer models, high pressure systems, doppler radars and a recap of the current weather in case we're shut-ins and just curious what it was like outside today.
But I'll let it slide as long as the forecast continues to bring the weather we've had this week - sunny and 70's without a cloud in the sky. It's even brought out a kinder, gentler Sid, and I've left the mean streets to take the slightly longer and more crowded lakefront path home on my bike. Click on images for full size versions if your eyes suck or if you just want to further admire my iPhone skillz.
Leaving downtown, just north of Ohio Street Beach, ferris wheel at Navy Pier in the background.
Accidental photo of me and my shadow and the evil black Trek since I don't have a new Globe bicycle yet.
A little further north at Oak Street Beach near the Gold Coast. Not sure what all those people are running from - probably some sort of sasquatch.
Just over halfway home looking back toward downtown from near Diversey Harbor. The woman is clearly not amused with my riding thong and is calling the authorities.
I also don't understand why the weather report on the news takes five minutes. All we really care about is the damn forecast. Do I need to wear my slicker and rubbers, or can I just wear my "Somebody Went To Branson And All I Got Was This Stupid Shirt" shirt? Instead we get computer models, high pressure systems, doppler radars and a recap of the current weather in case we're shut-ins and just curious what it was like outside today.
But I'll let it slide as long as the forecast continues to bring the weather we've had this week - sunny and 70's without a cloud in the sky. It's even brought out a kinder, gentler Sid, and I've left the mean streets to take the slightly longer and more crowded lakefront path home on my bike. Click on images for full size versions if your eyes suck or if you just want to further admire my iPhone skillz.
Leaving downtown, just north of Ohio Street Beach, ferris wheel at Navy Pier in the background.
Accidental photo of me and my shadow and the evil black Trek since I don't have a new Globe bicycle yet.
A little further north at Oak Street Beach near the Gold Coast. Not sure what all those people are running from - probably some sort of sasquatch.
Just over halfway home looking back toward downtown from near Diversey Harbor. The woman is clearly not amused with my riding thong and is calling the authorities.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
You Don't Sing Me Love Songs...
I came home and found this today... I think my wife has a new boyfriend.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Globe Trekking
Anyone who has read this blog over the last 4 years and 500+ posts knows that bikes are a big part of my life. But this isn’t a bike blog. Just like the guy in the Dos Equis ads, I am striving to be the world’s most interesting biker rather than post reviews of the latest titanium water bottle cage to hit the market. You’ll also be more likely read about the great city of Chicago and the awesome events to which I can ride my bike, rather than just post videos of myself trying to perfect my track stand at the traffic light on my way to a superhero tap dance opera.
As such, I’m not sure I’ll be chosen to test out a bike as part of the Globe Experience Project that Globe Bikes is running to promote the rollout of their new line.
So my plan is to trick them by offering them a challenge they cannot refuse. The Godfather strategy.
You see, we have six bikes in our household of two people. It seems like a lot, but that’s only three a piece – two full-suspension Specialized Stumpjumper mountain bikes that guided us through Crested Butte, two nimble Specialized Allez Elite road bikes that survived the Hotter n’ Hell Hundred in Wichita Falls, and an old Specialized Rockhopper that the Mrs. uses as a commuter bike. Wait, you say that’s only five? By golly, you’re right. I guess I left out my daily commuter/errand bike, a 1991 Trek 820 Antelope, of which I am the original owner.
Does Globe Bikes believe that they finally have a bike that can finally replace my 18 year-old Trek and make this an exclusive Specialized/Globe household? I’m willing to give it shot and show off their bike around town if they are.
This year alone the bike would have seen daily commutes to work on my 15-mile round trip, but also visits to events at Pritzker Pavilion, Grant Park, the Athenaeum Theatre, Lakeview Music Fest, i/o, Wrigley Field, the Vic Theater, and too numerous to mention shops and restaurants along the miles of bike routes outside my front door.
And if Globe isn’t up for the challenge, well, they just might wake up with a stripped headset in their bed.
The evil black Trek trying to steal the spotlight from the Specialized.
As such, I’m not sure I’ll be chosen to test out a bike as part of the Globe Experience Project that Globe Bikes is running to promote the rollout of their new line.
So my plan is to trick them by offering them a challenge they cannot refuse. The Godfather strategy.
You see, we have six bikes in our household of two people. It seems like a lot, but that’s only three a piece – two full-suspension Specialized Stumpjumper mountain bikes that guided us through Crested Butte, two nimble Specialized Allez Elite road bikes that survived the Hotter n’ Hell Hundred in Wichita Falls, and an old Specialized Rockhopper that the Mrs. uses as a commuter bike. Wait, you say that’s only five? By golly, you’re right. I guess I left out my daily commuter/errand bike, a 1991 Trek 820 Antelope, of which I am the original owner.
Does Globe Bikes believe that they finally have a bike that can finally replace my 18 year-old Trek and make this an exclusive Specialized/Globe household? I’m willing to give it shot and show off their bike around town if they are.
This year alone the bike would have seen daily commutes to work on my 15-mile round trip, but also visits to events at Pritzker Pavilion, Grant Park, the Athenaeum Theatre, Lakeview Music Fest, i/o, Wrigley Field, the Vic Theater, and too numerous to mention shops and restaurants along the miles of bike routes outside my front door.
And if Globe isn’t up for the challenge, well, they just might wake up with a stripped headset in their bed.
The evil black Trek trying to steal the spotlight from the Specialized.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Summer of Sid
According to the all the Facebook updates I’m seeing from people about their little brats going back to school and how they’ll miss the annoying little buggers, I figured it’s time for my annual How I Spent My Summer Vacation essay. Never you mind that I haven’t done one before. I’m just hopelessly behind on posting and need to start taking some of these post-tit notes off my desk before Big Bird attempts to mate with it.
March 29 – Bob Mould at Old Town School of Folk Music
Husker Du rocked my Walkman in the 80’s so I was intrigued by the opportunity to check out their frontman at a small joint like OTS. However, this was risky as it was an acoustic show, and I wasn’t as familiar with his more recent solo work. I sampled some new stuff and it sounded promising, so I picked up a couple tix. Unfortunately, the show was like watching SNL. Sure there are some nuggets and it’s entertaining, but will never capture the same burn your tongue on a hot slice of pizza feeling of the original. I know it’s unfair to compare his solo career to what I remember from 20 years ago, but I’m pretty much a dick and he should have expected me to do that. Sorry. And another thing – I like a little banter between songs, especially at a more intimate venue. You know, besides hawking your new CD.
April 5 – Alvin Ailey at Auditorium Theater
Yep, while I was at the ballet pretending that I didn’t like pretentious dance events, I came right home and purchased tickets to another pretentious dance event I saw being promoted at the theater. Alvin Ailey isn’t really that pretentious, but it is still a dance show. And a pretty damn good one. I’ve seen this company twice now and I’ll go again. You can’t stop me. So you may as well just come with next time. And being the minority in the audience made me feel hip in a culturally diverse kind of way.
Mid-April included a trip to Orlando. It was hot, I had to wear a suit, there were large people with fat kids in tow on a quest to see a moose or a mouse or whatever the hell is down there, I don’t drink and I was at a conference where the primary activity is drinking. Those were dark days, my friend.
April 29 – Chorus Line at Oriental Theater
Okay, now I even think I need to schedule a night out at an Extreme Cagefighting event to prove that I do more than watch people in tights and attend musicals. Actually, those cagefighter guys wear spandex tights, too. Maybe I have some subconscious fetish. Or, as I tell myself, I bought the tickets as birthday presents for my mom and my wife, both of whom love this production. They talked it up so much that I was sure I would end up quitting my job to become a professional dancer just to garner their approval and live the dream. Didn’t happen. I don’t get it. I wanted it to be over more than my dental appointments.
May 17 – 11th Anniversary
On this day both me and the Mrs. realized that we were both just waiting for the other one to leave. But we’re both too stubborn to be the first to walk out of this loveless marriage, so we appear to be stuck with each other for at least another year.
[Actual quote from this last weekend: “Go eat your lunch before I stab you with this knife.”]
To further torture ourselves, we took a 2,500 mile round-trip road trip at the end of the month to celebrate our tolerance of each other. We rode the famous mountain bike trails of Crested Butte and she didn’t push me off the mountain. And I didn’t sneak any bear urine into her hydration pack. Maybe it’s love, after all.
June 19 – Lovehammers at House of Blues
I finally relented and picked up a ticket. And then woke up the day of the show with a bug that I would happily wish upon my worst enemy. However, I wasn’t totally heartbroken as the opening bands had the potential to be so incredibly annoying that I might have felt worse by going and listening to them. I’ll take my chances with a fever and body aches.
June 26 – Taste of Chicago
I went on opening night so I could be sure to get my sauteed goat. It doesn’t taste anything like chicken. It’s better. And it really gets my goat when people don’t believe me.
June was busy as I also had a trip to Vegas and two trips to Cedar Rapids. I kind of prefer Cedar Rapids. The hookers are less expensive, too.
I already told you about the Folk & Roots Festival. It’s a good thing I have a blog and not a podcast because somebody at work thought I spent the day at the Vulcan Roots Festival. Maybe because I wear my Spock ears to work every casual Friday.
July 26 – Chicago Criterium
Yes, I spent an entire day watching cyclists ride their bikes in circles around downtown Chicago. It’s the NASCAR equivalent for folks who spend more money on their bicycles than they do on Budweiser and who don’t outweigh their refrigerators.
I also already told you about the Dead Weather show, but it was so good I’m going to tell you again. I’m also on the verge of developing a mancrush on Jack White. Especially after seeing the movie It Might Get Loud. Since I mentioned it, how about a quick movie review…
Here’s the deal – the filmmaker gets Jimmy Page, Edge and Jack White together in the same room with a bunch of gear to talk about guitars and play a bit. Sounds awesome, right? Okay, so I guess it was, but it could have been so much better. It would be like having Pee-Wee Herman over to your house and him just wanting to sit on your couch and masturbate. Sort of. That analogy sucks. Gene Siskel could do a better review and he’s dead. Just go see it.
August 2 – The Rhythm Project – Pritzker Pavilion at Millennium Park
One of many free shows at the beautiful Pritzker Pavilion right downtown. The only problem… free. I am totally and completely against anything and everything free. Devalue anything like that and people treat it that way. While simultaneously going apeshit to get it. Charge a friggin’ dollar if you need to, just to weed out people showing up because it’s free. Regardless, I mostly enjoyed the show despite people hoarding and saving seats, the preponderance of children being forcefully exposed to culture they clearly didn’t give a crap about, and Type II diabetics stuffing their faces with fried chicken dinners because they can’t go without food for 90 friggin’ minutes.
August 15 – Air & Water Show – Lakefront
Show central is at North Avenue Beach. Screw that. For the second year in a row we set up shop about 1-1/2 north at Diversey Harbor. Rode our bikes down at 10:30 a.m. and stayed to the end at 4 pm. All the air show stuff was pretty impressive, but the F-15 stole the show. When it roared by, little kids cried, women fainted and men cheered. I also wondered when we’re bombing the crap out of these poor third world villages, if just for a moment, before the missiles are launched, they think that those jets are pretty damn cool, too. I doubt it.
August 18 – The Pretenders/Cat Power/Juliette Lewis – The Vic
This deserves its own post. How much more awesome could a single show be? The answer is none. None more awesome.
I also saw Moist Rub at the Pretenders show so I can confirm that he’s not dead or anything.
August 22 – Ruthie Foster – Old Town School of Folk Music
Gospel-tinged blues is how I would describe it. Better than a roadhouse. Better than a church. Get yourself some Ruthie – she’s good for your soul. And her stories and stage presence make you wish she was your neighbor so you could order a pizza and invite her over to hang out for a couple hours on the weekend. Whatever toppings she wants.
So that takes us through the end of August. Thanks for your patience. Hope your summer was swell. I mean that.
March 29 – Bob Mould at Old Town School of Folk Music
Husker Du rocked my Walkman in the 80’s so I was intrigued by the opportunity to check out their frontman at a small joint like OTS. However, this was risky as it was an acoustic show, and I wasn’t as familiar with his more recent solo work. I sampled some new stuff and it sounded promising, so I picked up a couple tix. Unfortunately, the show was like watching SNL. Sure there are some nuggets and it’s entertaining, but will never capture the same burn your tongue on a hot slice of pizza feeling of the original. I know it’s unfair to compare his solo career to what I remember from 20 years ago, but I’m pretty much a dick and he should have expected me to do that. Sorry. And another thing – I like a little banter between songs, especially at a more intimate venue. You know, besides hawking your new CD.
April 5 – Alvin Ailey at Auditorium Theater
Yep, while I was at the ballet pretending that I didn’t like pretentious dance events, I came right home and purchased tickets to another pretentious dance event I saw being promoted at the theater. Alvin Ailey isn’t really that pretentious, but it is still a dance show. And a pretty damn good one. I’ve seen this company twice now and I’ll go again. You can’t stop me. So you may as well just come with next time. And being the minority in the audience made me feel hip in a culturally diverse kind of way.
Mid-April included a trip to Orlando. It was hot, I had to wear a suit, there were large people with fat kids in tow on a quest to see a moose or a mouse or whatever the hell is down there, I don’t drink and I was at a conference where the primary activity is drinking. Those were dark days, my friend.
April 29 – Chorus Line at Oriental Theater
Okay, now I even think I need to schedule a night out at an Extreme Cagefighting event to prove that I do more than watch people in tights and attend musicals. Actually, those cagefighter guys wear spandex tights, too. Maybe I have some subconscious fetish. Or, as I tell myself, I bought the tickets as birthday presents for my mom and my wife, both of whom love this production. They talked it up so much that I was sure I would end up quitting my job to become a professional dancer just to garner their approval and live the dream. Didn’t happen. I don’t get it. I wanted it to be over more than my dental appointments.
May 17 – 11th Anniversary
On this day both me and the Mrs. realized that we were both just waiting for the other one to leave. But we’re both too stubborn to be the first to walk out of this loveless marriage, so we appear to be stuck with each other for at least another year.
[Actual quote from this last weekend: “Go eat your lunch before I stab you with this knife.”]
To further torture ourselves, we took a 2,500 mile round-trip road trip at the end of the month to celebrate our tolerance of each other. We rode the famous mountain bike trails of Crested Butte and she didn’t push me off the mountain. And I didn’t sneak any bear urine into her hydration pack. Maybe it’s love, after all.
June 19 – Lovehammers at House of Blues
I finally relented and picked up a ticket. And then woke up the day of the show with a bug that I would happily wish upon my worst enemy. However, I wasn’t totally heartbroken as the opening bands had the potential to be so incredibly annoying that I might have felt worse by going and listening to them. I’ll take my chances with a fever and body aches.
June 26 – Taste of Chicago
I went on opening night so I could be sure to get my sauteed goat. It doesn’t taste anything like chicken. It’s better. And it really gets my goat when people don’t believe me.
June was busy as I also had a trip to Vegas and two trips to Cedar Rapids. I kind of prefer Cedar Rapids. The hookers are less expensive, too.
I already told you about the Folk & Roots Festival. It’s a good thing I have a blog and not a podcast because somebody at work thought I spent the day at the Vulcan Roots Festival. Maybe because I wear my Spock ears to work every casual Friday.
July 26 – Chicago Criterium
Yes, I spent an entire day watching cyclists ride their bikes in circles around downtown Chicago. It’s the NASCAR equivalent for folks who spend more money on their bicycles than they do on Budweiser and who don’t outweigh their refrigerators.
I also already told you about the Dead Weather show, but it was so good I’m going to tell you again. I’m also on the verge of developing a mancrush on Jack White. Especially after seeing the movie It Might Get Loud. Since I mentioned it, how about a quick movie review…
Here’s the deal – the filmmaker gets Jimmy Page, Edge and Jack White together in the same room with a bunch of gear to talk about guitars and play a bit. Sounds awesome, right? Okay, so I guess it was, but it could have been so much better. It would be like having Pee-Wee Herman over to your house and him just wanting to sit on your couch and masturbate. Sort of. That analogy sucks. Gene Siskel could do a better review and he’s dead. Just go see it.
August 2 – The Rhythm Project – Pritzker Pavilion at Millennium Park
One of many free shows at the beautiful Pritzker Pavilion right downtown. The only problem… free. I am totally and completely against anything and everything free. Devalue anything like that and people treat it that way. While simultaneously going apeshit to get it. Charge a friggin’ dollar if you need to, just to weed out people showing up because it’s free. Regardless, I mostly enjoyed the show despite people hoarding and saving seats, the preponderance of children being forcefully exposed to culture they clearly didn’t give a crap about, and Type II diabetics stuffing their faces with fried chicken dinners because they can’t go without food for 90 friggin’ minutes.
August 15 – Air & Water Show – Lakefront
Show central is at North Avenue Beach. Screw that. For the second year in a row we set up shop about 1-1/2 north at Diversey Harbor. Rode our bikes down at 10:30 a.m. and stayed to the end at 4 pm. All the air show stuff was pretty impressive, but the F-15 stole the show. When it roared by, little kids cried, women fainted and men cheered. I also wondered when we’re bombing the crap out of these poor third world villages, if just for a moment, before the missiles are launched, they think that those jets are pretty damn cool, too. I doubt it.
August 18 – The Pretenders/Cat Power/Juliette Lewis – The Vic
This deserves its own post. How much more awesome could a single show be? The answer is none. None more awesome.
I also saw Moist Rub at the Pretenders show so I can confirm that he’s not dead or anything.
August 22 – Ruthie Foster – Old Town School of Folk Music
Gospel-tinged blues is how I would describe it. Better than a roadhouse. Better than a church. Get yourself some Ruthie – she’s good for your soul. And her stories and stage presence make you wish she was your neighbor so you could order a pizza and invite her over to hang out for a couple hours on the weekend. Whatever toppings she wants.
So that takes us through the end of August. Thanks for your patience. Hope your summer was swell. I mean that.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Afternoon Delight, Pt. II - Beyond Blue
Like a whole month ago I took you on a bike tour of my neighborhood and promised to share the rest of that day. Well, I had a date with my wife that night to see Chicago Tap Theatre’s next production – a one night showing of new stuff called Beyond Blue – and I proposed we make it a bike date. She donned her bike skirt, I rolled up the cuffs of my fancy goin’ out jeans like a true bike geek, we pumped up the tires and hit the bike lane. I was happy she agreed since I nearly killed her on our last bike outing, but her bruises were nearly gone and apparently her memory short.
Our first stop was for dinner at The Art of Pizza, as we obviously had to carbo load for the 3-1/2 mile commute home. Besides having awesome pizza, Art scores by serving it up by the slice, including stuffed. Which means no waiting 45 minutes, and I can carnivore my ass off while the Mrs. veges out.
This time CTT was on the main stage at the Athenaeum Theatre, which is still pretty intimate without a bad seat in the house. Except the one behind me, as I refused to take off my helmet (helmet hair, y’know) which is typically adorned with peacock feathers. Unlike their previous tap dance operas, this was a pure dance show.
Here are my impressions of each piece (please remember I am not a dancer, tap or otherwise, but just a dunderheaded fan):
Wade
The piece was included after it won a contest funded by a grant from the Saints Foundation. I don’t think they’re related to the New Orleans Saints because this piece seemed to have nothing to do with football. There was a lot of white color, several ramps set up like a mini skateboard park, and a sheet hanging on a cross. There was dancing, but everyone seemed to get pissed off whenever someone went to play with the sheet. This was too much symbolism or interpretation for my obtuse head, and I feared I would be lost for the evening. It’s much easier to follow superheroes and fairy tale characters.
Same but Different
Okay, this one consisted of four dancers knocking out some decent steps. After the show, the Mrs. asked if I knew why it was titled as such. Of course, I did. This was a statement of how all of us in the world are different, but really the same because dance is common to all cultures except cultures with those religious sects that forbid dancing. You know, teaching the world to sing, buying the world a Coke kind of thing. Everybody getting’ footloose. Wrong. Damn CTT set me up looking for symbolism and stuff, when the Mrs. informed me the dancers were doing the same rhythms but using different steps. Or something like that. I clearly suck at this game.
Next up, the CTT artistic director Mark did some solo stuff accompanied by a banjo player. The banjo player wasn’t as funny Steve Martin, but the tap dancing was way better than Steve Martin’s happy feet.
About Her
I thought this one might be inspired by Beth Hart’s song By Her. I don’t think it was, but I still remember liking it. Maybe because it reminded me of Beth Hart. I should give her a call. She seems to be spending way too much time in Europe and I’m kind of getting annoyed with her. This piece obviously brought out a lot of emotion from within.
The banjo guy came out again and had a little hoe-down with three guys from the company. It was like The Devil Went Down to Georgia, except with tap shoes instead of fiddles. I’m happy to report the devil didn’t steal no souls that night.
Quiet Down
The girls took over again and to be honest I’m getting some of these confused. It was over a month ago, so give me a break. I do have some notes that say I liked the choreography. Hey, this ain’t the New York Times.
The banjo player must have taken offense to my Steve Martin remark, because the next interlude was Mark doing some solo stuff accompanied by a local slam poet. I finally removed my peacock feather helmet and replaced it with the beret I keep in my back pocket for such occasions. I snapped my approval but the usher did not take kindly to my clove cigarette.
Bad Businessman
I think most of the company came out for this one, all dressed up like the bad businessman from Mannix. The piece included props such as business cards and newspapers to show that business sucks and we should all be tap dancers. The less people working on CDOs and other crap like that, the better. All I know is that the taxpayers never had to bail out a tap company.
Speaking of which, go make a donation to the company. I enjoy them and if you’re reading this blog it’s your turn to subsidize my entertainment. Thank you.
The second half kicked off with Siren’s Song, featuring Mark and Kendra. They rock. As long as they’re dancing with CTT, I’ll show up. The same way I’ll keep buying Lucky Charms as long as it continues to be filled with pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers.
Mark came back out to dance to some slam poetry about a street musician, and again the usher made me snuff out my clove cigarette. The beret stayed.
Games
A large wooden box was the centerpiece of this one. The girls all hung out around, in and on the box. Then they hit the box. Then they came out of the box and then went back in the box and then got back on the box and hit it some more while this was all going on. This was obviously all a metaphor for the paradigm shift in gender identity and the effects on self-actualization and resulting catharsis within a controlled environment with subthemes addressing the increasing prevalence of agoraphobia in affluent communities of certain Canadian provinces. I think. I’m open to alternative hypotheses. Regardless, I enjoyed this one.
The banjo guy got over whatever was bugging him and came back to accompany Mark. It was swell having him back. I missed him.
Intrinsic
This was aptly named, as the dance included tapping each other’s shoes. I get the feeling that would be like trying to give a quarterback a manicure during a two-minute drill. Sorry about the football reference, but I’m bitter about that Saints contest not having anything to do with football. Despite the lack of blocking and tackling I liked this one a lot, but would have like to have seen it on a smaller stage.
Flying Turtles
If you’re still with me on this post, I’m guessing that you must be a member of CTT. Hope my review of the previous pieces didn’t piss you off too much. Because I really did enjoy the show, but you totally knocked my socks off with this one. Seriously. I don’t know Brenda Bufalino and I don’t know who to thank more – her for choreographing something like that or you guys for nailing it. Aurally it was rocking, even to an untrained tap ear like myself. Visually, I had convinced myself that there was no way that chaos was choreographed. When it kicked in toward the end it looked like moths in the light of a streetlamp. Except the moths were flying turtles. Not slow turtles like in the Comcast commercial, but maybe unusually fast turtles named Snappy. Eventually I fell entranced into the rhythm and was sure that I could slip into the mix without anyone noticing. Clearly I’m a moron. There are some outstanding dancers in the company and I like watching them rock out on their own, but when the ensemble is firing on all cylinders like this one it doesn’t compare to anything else I’ve seen. Well, maybe those OK Go! videos. Keep practicing - you'll get there. But I digress.
Keep up the good work boys and girls. If need any help with promo materials, please don’t hesitate to ask.
I was fortunate to catch Flying Turtles a couple weeks later as part of a free show downtown - there's a shaky video here that gives you a feel for the piece.
Our first stop was for dinner at The Art of Pizza, as we obviously had to carbo load for the 3-1/2 mile commute home. Besides having awesome pizza, Art scores by serving it up by the slice, including stuffed. Which means no waiting 45 minutes, and I can carnivore my ass off while the Mrs. veges out.
This time CTT was on the main stage at the Athenaeum Theatre, which is still pretty intimate without a bad seat in the house. Except the one behind me, as I refused to take off my helmet (helmet hair, y’know) which is typically adorned with peacock feathers. Unlike their previous tap dance operas, this was a pure dance show.
Here are my impressions of each piece (please remember I am not a dancer, tap or otherwise, but just a dunderheaded fan):
Wade
The piece was included after it won a contest funded by a grant from the Saints Foundation. I don’t think they’re related to the New Orleans Saints because this piece seemed to have nothing to do with football. There was a lot of white color, several ramps set up like a mini skateboard park, and a sheet hanging on a cross. There was dancing, but everyone seemed to get pissed off whenever someone went to play with the sheet. This was too much symbolism or interpretation for my obtuse head, and I feared I would be lost for the evening. It’s much easier to follow superheroes and fairy tale characters.
Same but Different
Okay, this one consisted of four dancers knocking out some decent steps. After the show, the Mrs. asked if I knew why it was titled as such. Of course, I did. This was a statement of how all of us in the world are different, but really the same because dance is common to all cultures except cultures with those religious sects that forbid dancing. You know, teaching the world to sing, buying the world a Coke kind of thing. Everybody getting’ footloose. Wrong. Damn CTT set me up looking for symbolism and stuff, when the Mrs. informed me the dancers were doing the same rhythms but using different steps. Or something like that. I clearly suck at this game.
Next up, the CTT artistic director Mark did some solo stuff accompanied by a banjo player. The banjo player wasn’t as funny Steve Martin, but the tap dancing was way better than Steve Martin’s happy feet.
About Her
I thought this one might be inspired by Beth Hart’s song By Her. I don’t think it was, but I still remember liking it. Maybe because it reminded me of Beth Hart. I should give her a call. She seems to be spending way too much time in Europe and I’m kind of getting annoyed with her. This piece obviously brought out a lot of emotion from within.
The banjo guy came out again and had a little hoe-down with three guys from the company. It was like The Devil Went Down to Georgia, except with tap shoes instead of fiddles. I’m happy to report the devil didn’t steal no souls that night.
Quiet Down
The girls took over again and to be honest I’m getting some of these confused. It was over a month ago, so give me a break. I do have some notes that say I liked the choreography. Hey, this ain’t the New York Times.
The banjo player must have taken offense to my Steve Martin remark, because the next interlude was Mark doing some solo stuff accompanied by a local slam poet. I finally removed my peacock feather helmet and replaced it with the beret I keep in my back pocket for such occasions. I snapped my approval but the usher did not take kindly to my clove cigarette.
Bad Businessman
I think most of the company came out for this one, all dressed up like the bad businessman from Mannix. The piece included props such as business cards and newspapers to show that business sucks and we should all be tap dancers. The less people working on CDOs and other crap like that, the better. All I know is that the taxpayers never had to bail out a tap company.
Speaking of which, go make a donation to the company. I enjoy them and if you’re reading this blog it’s your turn to subsidize my entertainment. Thank you.
The second half kicked off with Siren’s Song, featuring Mark and Kendra. They rock. As long as they’re dancing with CTT, I’ll show up. The same way I’ll keep buying Lucky Charms as long as it continues to be filled with pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers.
Mark came back out to dance to some slam poetry about a street musician, and again the usher made me snuff out my clove cigarette. The beret stayed.
Games
A large wooden box was the centerpiece of this one. The girls all hung out around, in and on the box. Then they hit the box. Then they came out of the box and then went back in the box and then got back on the box and hit it some more while this was all going on. This was obviously all a metaphor for the paradigm shift in gender identity and the effects on self-actualization and resulting catharsis within a controlled environment with subthemes addressing the increasing prevalence of agoraphobia in affluent communities of certain Canadian provinces. I think. I’m open to alternative hypotheses. Regardless, I enjoyed this one.
The banjo guy got over whatever was bugging him and came back to accompany Mark. It was swell having him back. I missed him.
Intrinsic
This was aptly named, as the dance included tapping each other’s shoes. I get the feeling that would be like trying to give a quarterback a manicure during a two-minute drill. Sorry about the football reference, but I’m bitter about that Saints contest not having anything to do with football. Despite the lack of blocking and tackling I liked this one a lot, but would have like to have seen it on a smaller stage.
Flying Turtles
If you’re still with me on this post, I’m guessing that you must be a member of CTT. Hope my review of the previous pieces didn’t piss you off too much. Because I really did enjoy the show, but you totally knocked my socks off with this one. Seriously. I don’t know Brenda Bufalino and I don’t know who to thank more – her for choreographing something like that or you guys for nailing it. Aurally it was rocking, even to an untrained tap ear like myself. Visually, I had convinced myself that there was no way that chaos was choreographed. When it kicked in toward the end it looked like moths in the light of a streetlamp. Except the moths were flying turtles. Not slow turtles like in the Comcast commercial, but maybe unusually fast turtles named Snappy. Eventually I fell entranced into the rhythm and was sure that I could slip into the mix without anyone noticing. Clearly I’m a moron. There are some outstanding dancers in the company and I like watching them rock out on their own, but when the ensemble is firing on all cylinders like this one it doesn’t compare to anything else I’ve seen. Well, maybe those OK Go! videos. Keep practicing - you'll get there. But I digress.
Keep up the good work boys and girls. If need any help with promo materials, please don’t hesitate to ask.
I was fortunate to catch Flying Turtles a couple weeks later as part of a free show downtown - there's a shaky video here that gives you a feel for the piece.
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