a night of fine rock
Yesterday was a lovely evening of rock at Grand Palace, a fine establishment in the town I now find myself in. Its a recording studio/used record store/small venue for bands. I decided after a long first week of teaching at M--- S----, an excursion into indie was called for. My wife C--- lent me a messenger bag, which I stocked with 30-35 yr old minibottles of exquisite rare brandies (apricot liqueur...mmm...its like cod liver oil for drunks) and a copy of a book on African American steamboat workers. I whisked down the empty campus and the dull orange lit streets of my town until I made it to the venue. Keep in mind my narc skills had to come out since I was probably the oldest person in the room. Thank goodness I have heard of hot new groups like the Fine Young Cannibals and Let's Active!
It turned out many people brought their own beer, and warm old exotic spirits do not quench a thirst. I offered some young lady a 32 year old cognac for her PBR. She just gave me the a can. I felt very classy. Thankfully, that sentiment dissipated once the Evangelicals took the stage. I haven't seen youngsters have so much fun hopping around haplessly since the Poster Children played Bloomington, Indiana in 1994. The lead singer was a crooner. He managed to fight his way through blown fuses and endless rocktronic fog machines. The smoky haze of dry ice, the mad yelps of the crowd, and the frenzy of the band led to moments of sheer pandemonium. I decided as I rode home that nights like this were worth the wierdness of being ancient history compared to most of the audience.
What else? I am yet again in an ebay struggle with my arch-nemesis Mebale. There's roughly 5 people in the world who use ebay to collect old photographs and postcards of G---, the country whose history keeps me employed. Too bad one of them seems to have more money than Brinks. Mebale is a G---- man who keeps vanquishing me in postcard bidding wars. If he starts to enter the game, its over and done. Until now, I hope! There's two photos for sale (starting bid 10 dollars) by the first African photographer who ever took portraits in the country, roughly around 1878. Only I know this. Only Mebale, a Swiss historian of African history writing an essay about the photographer, and I actually care, but I'm not letting that minor issue stop me from potentially blowing several hundred dollars to snag the photos. I kind of hoping Mebale actually wins to get me off the hook of spending so much money...We'll see if I finally go out like a plucky Bad News Bear or crash like Dag Hammerskold.
It turned out many people brought their own beer, and warm old exotic spirits do not quench a thirst. I offered some young lady a 32 year old cognac for her PBR. She just gave me the a can. I felt very classy. Thankfully, that sentiment dissipated once the Evangelicals took the stage. I haven't seen youngsters have so much fun hopping around haplessly since the Poster Children played Bloomington, Indiana in 1994. The lead singer was a crooner. He managed to fight his way through blown fuses and endless rocktronic fog machines. The smoky haze of dry ice, the mad yelps of the crowd, and the frenzy of the band led to moments of sheer pandemonium. I decided as I rode home that nights like this were worth the wierdness of being ancient history compared to most of the audience.
What else? I am yet again in an ebay struggle with my arch-nemesis Mebale. There's roughly 5 people in the world who use ebay to collect old photographs and postcards of G---, the country whose history keeps me employed. Too bad one of them seems to have more money than Brinks. Mebale is a G---- man who keeps vanquishing me in postcard bidding wars. If he starts to enter the game, its over and done. Until now, I hope! There's two photos for sale (starting bid 10 dollars) by the first African photographer who ever took portraits in the country, roughly around 1878. Only I know this. Only Mebale, a Swiss historian of African history writing an essay about the photographer, and I actually care, but I'm not letting that minor issue stop me from potentially blowing several hundred dollars to snag the photos. I kind of hoping Mebale actually wins to get me off the hook of spending so much money...We'll see if I finally go out like a plucky Bad News Bear or crash like Dag Hammerskold.