At the Stratford Theatre in Stratford, Ontario, several years ago, I was seated in the front row, watching Of Mice and Men. Superbly played. It was so gripping that when George was about to leave Lennie to go into town, I actually stood up and said, "No, stay there. Don't leave". I said it out loud with some urgency. No one looked at my like I was weird. They were there too. I report this with no embarrassment whatsoever.
One of my favorite meals of all time was with my girlfriend at the time (she's now my wife) many, many years ago when we still lived in Madison, Wisconsin. We were celebrating our dating anniversary (December 20th) and had splurged to go to the Badgers basketball game that evening as well as have dinner at one of the fancier spots downtown afterward. We were both just out of college (technically I was still in college but I took 4,000 years to graduate and I was only taking one class) and not exactly rich, so this was a big night. We had a quiet table by a window that looked out at the street and as we were dining it started snowing. Big, soft, movie-esque flakes and then, as if we were actually in a movie, MOTHERFUCKING SANTA WALKED BY IN FULL COSTUME AND WAVED AT US AS WE SAT THEIR JAWS AGAPE AT HOW PERFECT OUR LIVES WERE AT THAT EXACT MOMENT. I don't remember anything about what we ate or even the name of the restaurant, but I'll never forget how I felt eating there.
Favorite live performance story is from a sometime in the 2010s. Went to a downtown Kalamazoo bar with a strangely unoccupied roof deck after not having gone out for a long time and sat in the sunshine. We drank a Labatt and ate a burger and fries. Nothing special but it had been just a rough time recently and it felt pretty grand to be out and feeling freeish in the sunshine.
A band at the adjoining State Theater fired up its soundcheck with the back doors open due to the heat. Sounded pretty good and then even better when they broke into a particularly bluesy and southern rockish cover of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a song that's basically the region I grew up in's anthem. (It's become associated with unsavory characters from the east side of the state recently but you can't let that ruin a song.) The band turned out to be Old Crow Medicine Show, scheduled to play that night but I got to hear an almost private concert not knowing who they were. It really made it a perfect summer afternoon.
I do appreciate the newsletter, even though I have a philosophical objection to cocktails. Thanks for doing it.
The best show I ever saw was The Mountain Goats around the beginning of May last year. I have been in recovery for about six and half years (I come for the newsletter, I skip the cocktail recipes). When I was first digging myself out of my hole the band gave me reassurance that I can be stronger than whatever I was staring down. Even now they serve as the background music for me against what we are all facing.
This was the first time I was able to see them live and was lucky enough to hear them play Sax Rohmer #1. That song in particular that has become my own little anthem against whatever fears and anxiety I face whether it is with sobriety or just life in general. As trite as it may sound, hearing the song that night was a validation of the path I have been on getting sober and to continue to stay that way for myself and everyone around me. The show was two hours away from me – they could have played that one song with no encore and left without saying another word and it still would have been the best show I’ve ever seen.
At the Stratford Theatre in Stratford, Ontario, several years ago, I was seated in the front row, watching Of Mice and Men. Superbly played. It was so gripping that when George was about to leave Lennie to go into town, I actually stood up and said, "No, stay there. Don't leave". I said it out loud with some urgency. No one looked at my like I was weird. They were there too. I report this with no embarrassment whatsoever.
One of my favorite meals of all time was with my girlfriend at the time (she's now my wife) many, many years ago when we still lived in Madison, Wisconsin. We were celebrating our dating anniversary (December 20th) and had splurged to go to the Badgers basketball game that evening as well as have dinner at one of the fancier spots downtown afterward. We were both just out of college (technically I was still in college but I took 4,000 years to graduate and I was only taking one class) and not exactly rich, so this was a big night. We had a quiet table by a window that looked out at the street and as we were dining it started snowing. Big, soft, movie-esque flakes and then, as if we were actually in a movie, MOTHERFUCKING SANTA WALKED BY IN FULL COSTUME AND WAVED AT US AS WE SAT THEIR JAWS AGAPE AT HOW PERFECT OUR LIVES WERE AT THAT EXACT MOMENT. I don't remember anything about what we ate or even the name of the restaurant, but I'll never forget how I felt eating there.
Favorite live performance story is from a sometime in the 2010s. Went to a downtown Kalamazoo bar with a strangely unoccupied roof deck after not having gone out for a long time and sat in the sunshine. We drank a Labatt and ate a burger and fries. Nothing special but it had been just a rough time recently and it felt pretty grand to be out and feeling freeish in the sunshine.
A band at the adjoining State Theater fired up its soundcheck with the back doors open due to the heat. Sounded pretty good and then even better when they broke into a particularly bluesy and southern rockish cover of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a song that's basically the region I grew up in's anthem. (It's become associated with unsavory characters from the east side of the state recently but you can't let that ruin a song.) The band turned out to be Old Crow Medicine Show, scheduled to play that night but I got to hear an almost private concert not knowing who they were. It really made it a perfect summer afternoon.
I do appreciate the newsletter, even though I have a philosophical objection to cocktails. Thanks for doing it.
that pedal steel tho
The best show I ever saw was The Mountain Goats around the beginning of May last year. I have been in recovery for about six and half years (I come for the newsletter, I skip the cocktail recipes). When I was first digging myself out of my hole the band gave me reassurance that I can be stronger than whatever I was staring down. Even now they serve as the background music for me against what we are all facing.
This was the first time I was able to see them live and was lucky enough to hear them play Sax Rohmer #1. That song in particular that has become my own little anthem against whatever fears and anxiety I face whether it is with sobriety or just life in general. As trite as it may sound, hearing the song that night was a validation of the path I have been on getting sober and to continue to stay that way for myself and everyone around me. The show was two hours away from me – they could have played that one song with no encore and left without saying another word and it still would have been the best show I’ve ever seen.