Spoon, St. Andrews Hall, Detroit, 10/29/05

I Spooned with Liz and Cameron tonight. What a blast! What a show!

Even though I've been a fan since Girls Can Tell, this was my first Spoon show. The venue was pretty full, although it could have held more people. Gwen Stefani and the Blackeyed Peas played the Palace, and Simple Plan played the Fox. It is cool when other shows attract the teenyboppers, yes? Oh, very yes.

The staging consisted of a red velvet curtain behind the band and spotlights at the edge of the stage intended to cast shadows onto the curtain. It was simple and yet a perfect match for the Gimme Fiction artwork.

Spoon played most of Girls Can Tell, most of Gimme Fiction and some of Kill the Moonlight. (I had a shot at the setlist because I had struck up a conversation with the sound/light guy, but I waited so long to ask that he had already given it away. I didn't take notes, either. Sorry.)

They played hard, with no breaks and little talking. For example, when Britt Daniel blew out some strings on his guitar he merely handed it to a tech who gave him another one, and they played on. And they played like this for 90 minutes or so until their "encore."

I asked the sound/light tech if they would play "My Mathematical Mind." He said yes, he thought so. He let me look over the playlist, which ended before the encore. "Not much help, is it?" I said, laughing. He nodded as if to say, "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you."

After the second encore song, I added my voice to others who clamored for "My Mathematical Mind." Daniel shushed us from the mic while the band played the opening chords of "My Mathematical Mind." The crowd went crazy.

I could have used another two or three minutes jamming on that song. I also missed the sound of the horns which, on the cd, introduce calm and quiet following the mass musical chaos. Still, it was good. Very good.

After the show I got to shake Jim Eno's hand (Jim is the drummer and half of the core of Spoon) and say a couple of stupid fan things to him. But I thanked him for the setlist and for coming to Detroit, and asked him to come back soon. He's a nice guy for playing along with fans like me.

Next Up: Guster @ the Michigan Theater, Wednesday, Nov. 2. With Andrew.

It's Amazing Where Your Email Winds Up.

Sam posted a comment on the debate over the location of the new Ypsi Schools bus maintenance facility. He included part of my email on the subject. I have not yet met Sam. I'm sure he's a cool guy because his website is so much cooler than mine. (Seriously. I'm going to look into WordPress for my next site design.)

Anyway, check out his lovely blog. Feel free to respond here; Sam moderates his responses, so there will be a delay if he chooses to publish your comment.

Now, the Post-Christmas Let-Down

Dear Pat Fitzgerald,

It was a great Christmas. Really. No, I'm not just trying to make you feel better. It's just that I had hoped for... something more. I mean, the Scooter's good -- don't get me wrong! -- but I had hoped for the Turdblossom, too. It's okay. Maybe I'll get it later? I'd really appreciate it.

And that "Undersecretary of State" I saw in your catalog? When, um, do you think you could deliver him? If he's the one I've been eyeing, he'd be so much better on a trophy rack than in the U.N., don't you think?

Okay. That's enough for now.

Oh -- and I promise to be good.

One of the best summaries around.

I've watched eyes glaze over as I explain Plamegate's importance to the war in Iraq. Let's not get bogged down in details, however. Plamegate exposes to what lengths the WHIG went to maintain the illusion of the WMD causus belli. And Frank Rich's piece in today's Sunday NYT gets everything right, except he could have used an extra teaspoon of moral indignation. Then it would have been seasoned to my taste.

NYT: Leak Case Renews Questions on War's Rationale

How timely.

Will Christmas Never Come?

You remember the joyful anticipation, the palpable longing. You don't know exactly what's coming, only that it will be lovely and you want it now. Or, as Tony sings in West Side Story:

Could be!
Who knows?
There's something due any day;
I will know right away,
Soon as it shows.
It may come cannonballing down through the sky,
Gleam in its eye,
Bright as a rose!

Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Under a tree.
I got a feeling there's a miracle due,
Gonna come true,
Coming to me!

Could it be? Yes, it could.
Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming, I don't know what it is,
But it is
Gonna be great!

With a click, with a shock,
Phone'll jingle, door'll knock,
Open the latch!
Something's coming, don't know when, but it's soon;
Catch the moon,
One-handed catch!

Around the corner,
Or whistling down the river,
Come on, deliver
To me!
Will it be? Yes, it will.
Maybe just by holding still,
It'll be there!

Come on, something, come on in, don't be shy,
Meet a guy,
Pull up a chair!
The air is humming,
And something great is coming!
Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Maybe tonight . . .

That's how I feel about Patrick Fitzgerald's grand jury indictments. Maybe this week?

For so many years now this gang of thugs in Brooks Bros. suits has gamed the system so viciously and so thoroughly that I had nearly given up hope of anything left unsullied by Bush and his cronies. And yet Mr. Fitzgerald appears to be a man of integrity enforcing the rule of law inside the Bush Justice Department.

All the speculation only whets my appetite further. Libby and Rove resigning? Maybe Cheney, too? Who could replace Bush's Brain? With the loss of the administration's chief enforcers, would more conscientious objectors within the administration feel emboldened to blow some whistles? Can we get to -- dare we wish for -- impeachment? Most importantly, can we bring back our military men and women from this unjust war?

More later.

Updated Update.

I truly thank you for your supportive comments. I don't want to memorialize this moment in my blog, however, so I'm saving the comments offline. Again, thanks for reaching out.

It's Fundraising Time Again!

Hello, fellow public school supporters!

Andrew is selling wreaths, garlands, centerpieces and whatnot from Sherwood Forest Farms. The funds directly support Ypsilanti school bands. When our neighbors had a son in marching band, we always ordered the western cedar garland and were quite pleased. It retained its green gloss well into January! We will certainly order more this year.

Please peruse the catalog and let me know if you want to order something. We have the price list. This year Sherwood Farms has added a Direct Delivery Gift Program; have it delivered to your home or buy a gift for someone else. It's easy.

Jackson is raising funds for the Chapelle Parent Advisory Board through Fund Raising Co. of America. Sadly, their website is out of date, so you can't see half of the catalog. The half you can see is located here; click on "order here." You can see products 1-99, but you can't see products 100-198. Contact me if you want the items you can see or if you want to see other items. (They also sell kitchen stuff, soups, cookie mixes, holiday gewgaws, some toys, and lots o' giftwrap.)

"Ahead Snark Factor 5, Mister Sulu."

Yes, the Snark Factor is high in this article in The New Republic. But the Top 15 Hacks in the W Administration leads to a high-larious conclusion.

It's a Small World for College Republicans.

I didn't know how all the key Republican paytoplayers were linked until I read this article by Sidney Blumenthal. Amazing. It appears that even the Christian Coalition was used by Reed and Norquist:

Norquist was the first to point out the political potential of evangelical churches to Reed, imagining that they could be turned into Republican clubhouses. During the week of the first President Bush's inauguration, Reed encountered Pat Robertson, the rightwing televangelist, who recruited him on the spot to run the Christian Coalition. "I want to be invisible," Reed explained. "I do guerrilla warfare. I paint my face and travel at night. You don't know it's over until you're in a body bag. You don't know until election night."

The Christian right is being taken in again, of course, with the nomination of Harriet Miers. Could this be the last straw for their support of the GOP? They really have to feel like Charlie Brown after Lucy pulls away the football...again.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for a peek at Jack Abramoff's email account....

Be Not Too Gleeful.

If you're like me, every time you hear the names Rove, Libby, DeLay, Frist or Abramoff, you have to fight to keep the smile off your face. Sometimes, you don't even fight the urge; sometimes the smile leads to a titter, a chuckle or a guffaw. Josh Marshall has a warning for us, and we should give it serious consideration.

The White Stripes Blow Away Hometown Crowd

Bruvva Pat and I saw the White Stripes tonight. What a show.

Jack and Meg play lightning fast--there's almost no break between songs. The first 30 minutes or so was pure, raw blues going back through four albums for the best blues guitar Jack has recorded.

Meg has slimmed down a lot. She looked great, especially when she came out from behind the drums to sing "Cold Cold Night." Jack is beefier than the last time I saw him and I wonder if he's been working out.

They played almost every song I could have asked for, including "Hotel Yorba" and an especially emotive "Jolene" (the great Dolly Parton tune.)

Their stagecraft was excellent, as usual. With only two musicians, Jack has to work pretty hard. He played various guitars, drums, xylophone, baby grand and electronic keyboards.

The age range for the audience, I'm guessing, was 20 to 50. No teenyboppers. Great, easygoing crowd; no drunks that I could see.

Of course, there's the atmosphere of the Masonic, with its gorgeous gothic architecture and detail. Except for the big guy in front of me who danced like he was Fred Durst, I enjoyed every minute.