i'm out

dear chicago,

my relationship with you has been strained from the beginning. deep down, i'm a southern girl, and your cold, midwestern stylings just haven't worked for me. i won't miss your wind or your snow. i won't miss the fact that you have given your freeways code names so the outsiders cannot understand your traffic reports. i won't miss your never-ending sprawling boring suburbs. and i won't miss winters that seem to last 8 months out of the year.

but these things i shall miss:

- concert buddies, first and foremost. you know who you are. and you rock like whoa. you held my hand swaying in front of pat sansone's stripey socks. you got me water when i was parched. you made cat faces at me. you brought snacks and drinks for our long drives to and fro. you stopped strange lesbians from dry humping me. wait, no you didn't. that actually happened. ass. i'll miss you anyways.

- schubas. need i say more? i emo heart the schubas photo booth.

- portillos beef sandwich, dipped with sweet and hot peppers.

- dick prall. travel west, young man.

- crate and barrel. there's no crate in nm. suck!

um... yeah... i think that's all i will miss.

next stop: albuquerque.

are you freaking kidding me??!!?!?

I got a phone call from my mother in law about an hour ago. It started out relatively painless. Then she asked what my plans were this weekend. What are my plans? Well, I'm moving in four days. My plans are to start organizing the items that I'm taking in the car with me for my 18-hour drive with two young children. My plans are to do laundry so I'm not packing and moving dirty things. My plans are to throw out extraneous items so I don't have to move them. My plans are to have an anxiety attack and sob quietly in the corner. What are your plans? "I have some packing and organizing to do," I say.

"Well," she says, "we were wondering if we could drive up this weekend to visit with the girls before you left." My house has been on the market since November. You haven't come to visit in nearly a year. My husband - your son - just left this past Monday after being home for 10 days, and you want to visit the weekend before my move? Are you for real?!? "I'm going to be pretty busy. I really don't think that will work," I say. "But the movers are going to be doing all the packing," she says. I politely decline.

I call my husband about 30 minutes later and ask him if he knew his mother was going to call me. He says that he did not, but that he just talked to them. Yes, that's right. His mother called him right after she got off the phone with me. She called him at a conference in Florida, where he is working, to try her passive-aggressive wonder powers on him. He had pretty much the same response I did, and told them that he was working and didn't have time for this. (Have I mentioned I love this man?)

This is the real kicker. Where were my in-laws three weekends ago? They were home in Cincinnati babysitting my sister-in-law's child. Where were they the weekend after that, when my husband was home? They were in Cleveland, visiting my sister-in-law. Where were they last weekend when my husband was still home? They were in southern Ohio for the birth of another grandkid... Okay, I have to give them that one.

There's a reason I'm moving 1400 miles away.

cigarettes and empty bottles, empty bottles

The Beat Kitchen, Chicago. February 18, 2007
Teitur w/ Jenny Owen Youngs and Curtis Evans

I almost didn't go to this show. I was out until 2 AM the night before and I had to drive out to O'Hare at 4 AM the next morning. But I couldn't justify missing a chance to see Teitur as my last concert as a Chicagoland resident, so with my kickass concert buddy guru James alongside me we made one last trek into the city together for a show.

We were both exhausted from being out so late the night before, but the website said the opener started at 7:30, so we weren't figuring to stay out too late. Then to arrive at the show and see the openers wouldn't start until 8:30? That's all kinds of ass. The venue was dark and cold with black painted walls and ceiling, blue lights over the stage, and a low hanging dank cloud of cigarette smoke. The first opener was Curtis Evans. He's a local Chicago boy, and seemed to have his share of friends in the audience.

Jenny Owen Youngs was next, and she was incredible. She has a unique voice and sings brutally honest songs. She was also hilarious and interacted a lot with the crowd. At one point, James turned to me and said, "I think I'm in love." To which I replied, "Me too. If you don't marry her, I will."



At one point, that crazy bitch jumped off the stage right into the audience. I think I touched her ass. Nevermind. I just imagined that. She did play a rousing rendition of Nelly's "Hot in Herre" though. That wasn't in my imagination.

Also not in my imagination:


Seriously, take me to shows. I'll get the pictures you would never dare to ask for yourself. I should really hire myself out for things like this.

I took my chances to run to the loo between sets and ran into Dick Prall out in the bar area. I was really hoping to see him before I moved, so that was a total bonus to my night. I'm sorry Lynn, I did not get any pictures of Dick. I did see Dick. I did wrap my arms around Dick and give Dick a big hug. There's nothing quite as good as a random Dick sighting. I could go on, but now I'm just being dirty.

Of course, the real draw of the night was Teitur himself.



I'm the worst person in the world for setlists, but here's what I remember:

don't want you to wake up
sleeping with the lights on
amanda's dream
poetry and aeroplanes
lets go dancing
i run the carousel
thief about to break in
you get me
josephine
umbrellas in the rain
hitchhiker
guilt by association
louis louis
baby you don't ever have to see me again
i was just thinking



I'm certain I missed something. But such is life. If you ever get the chance to see Teitur in concert, please go. He's a fantastic performer with a really unique voice and sound.









Full flickr photoset here

I did get to talk to Teitur a little bit after the show. He's going to be doing some recording down in Australia and some mixing in Santa Barbara. So keep your ears peeled for news on a new record. Yippee!

glen @ the black orchid

I've been staring at the screen for about an hour now, trying to write this. I start to write. I erase it. I write a couple emails. Leave some comments. Come back to my blog. For some reason I have a difficult time articulating my experience of seeing Glen Phillips in concert. I think it is because Glen's music is so important to me. I know not everyone likes the same music, that's normal. But if you don't get Glen, then in some way, you really don't get me. Plus, so much of my experience is personal, something that I have to keep for myself, or else it's no longer mine. If you happen to be around me at a Glen show, you might catch a glimpse of it.

I'm not making any sense. It's probably the combined effects of too much beer and four hours sleep.

Here's what I do know. I saw Glen Phillips last night at the Black Orchid. It's a beautiful venue, decorated in art-deco stylings to resemble a 1930's swing club. Very swank. I was accompanied by some of my Chicago concert buddy all-stars: the inimitable James, Lynn and Maureen, and by my ever-patient husband. Craig Cardiff opened. He used a lot of looping in his songs.

Glen was fantastic, as always. He was incredibly chatty and seemed in a really great mood. My face hurt a little from smiling so much. It seemed like the set was really short, but I guess it was just because I didn't want him to stop playing. He played a few new songs, including one that was so brutally honest that it almost felt uncomfortable listening to it. I'm still not making any sense. Here. Pictures. Pictures don't require me to be articulate.













I do have to share one funny thing. I was talking to Glen after the show and I told him that I was helping Teitur with his Myspace page (you should check it out myspace.com/Teitur I actually did html coding and made a masthead. And I know nothing about html code!) Anyways, I asked Glen if Teitur had asked him about me, and he said that indeed he had. Apparently Teitur sent Glen an email saying something along the lines of: "Dianne - Psycho-fan or just a really cool person?" Apparently, I got the non-Psycho designation. I come with references, baby.

Oh, and because Assy Asserton said I never mention my concert buddies, here's my concert buddy All-Stars at our favorite apres-concert drinking hole:



And if you were ever wondering how tall Glen is... James is 6'3". I'm probably 5'2" in the shoes I was wearing (I'm not kidding. The shoes add almost 2 inches). Glen is somewhere in between.



I'll miss you Chicago.

josh ritter, park west - chicago 2/11/07

Last night I saw Josh Ritter play a solo acoustic show at the Park West in Chicago. ***edit*** I attended the show with my über awesome concert buddy, James, Jim, and the late-arriving, but candy toting, Renee. ***edit*** It was a seated show, with the tables lined up cabaret style, angled towards the stage. Stephen Kellogg was the opener, and he played a lively set, without the usual backup of his band the Sixers.

The stage was set with empty picture frames hung on the back wall. A string of lights snaked across the floor creating a warm, glowing circle. An old end table with an antique lamp and a glass of whiskey waited for the troubadour to take the stage. The general effect was that of a theatrical parlour.


I didn't write down a setlist, because I was too busy enjoying the music. Well, that and taking pictures. If someone to ask me my favorite album of last year, I would reply without hesitation, Josh Ritter's The Animal Years. He is undeniably one of the best live performers I have ever seen, and quite possibly the best songwriter of our generation. He composes lyrics with a poets ear, and he exudes pure joy and gratitude every time he steps on stage.























More photos at my flickr page.

If you get the opportunity to see Josh live, definitely go see him. And if you don't yet own any of his albums, rush out and get those as well. And if you have the time after a show to say hi to him, do it. He is incredibly attentive to each and every person who takes their time to talk to him. Truly a beautiful person, and beautiful music.

wings

if i had to pick one song i want to hear josh ritter play at his solo acoustic show this sunday, this would be it. it's songs like this that take him past singer to the realm of travelling bard, telling stories to enraptured listeners.

Wings by Josh Ritter

at night we crossed the border following a Black robe
to the edge of the reservation—to Cataldo Mission
where the saints and all the martyrs look down on dying converts
what makes the water holy she says is that that it's the closest thing to rain I stole a mule from Anthony—I helped Anne up upon it
and we rode to Coeur d'Alene—through Harrison and Wallace
they were blasting out the tunnels—making way for the light of learning
when Jesus comes a'calling she said he's coming round the mountain on a train
it's my home—last night I dreamt that I grew wings
I found a place where they could hear me when I sing
we floated on to Hanford on a lumber boat up river
past the fisheries and the milltowns like a stretch of future graveyards
she was driven to distraction—said I wonder what will happen
when they find out they're mistaken and the land is too changed to ever change
we waded through the marketplace—someone's ship had come in
there was silver and begonias—dynamite and cattle
there were hearts as big as apples and apples in the shape of Mary's heart
I said inside this gilded cage a songbird always looks so plain
it's my home—last night I dreamt that I grew wings
I found a place where they could hear me when I sing.
and so they came with cameras—breaking through the morning mist
press and businessmen—tycoons—Episcopal philanthropists
lost in their appraisal of the body of a woman
but all we saw were lowlands—clouds clung to mountains without strings
and at last we saw some people huddled up against
the rain that was descending like railroad spikes and hammers they were headed for the border—walking and then running
then they were gone into the fog but Anne said underneath their jackets she saw wings