The super-sweet acoustic tour will feature Dustin Kensrue (of Thrice), Matt Pryor (of The Get Up Kids), Chris Conley (of Saves The Day) and Anthony Raneri (of Bayside) all by their lonesomes. Doesn't that sound amazing?
Yes! That's what I thought too. And, miracle of miracles, they're coming not only to Cleveland:
Jan 21: Dekalb, IL @ The House Cafe
Jan 22: East Lansing, MI @ Union Ballroom
Jan 23: Columbus, OH @ The Basement
Jan 24: Pittsburgh, PA @ Mr Smalls Theatre
Jan 25: Cleveland Heights, OH @ The Grog Shop
Jan 27: Memphis, TN @ The Hi-Tone
Jan 28: Nashville, TN @ Rocketown
Jan 29: Covington, KY @ Mad Hatter Club
Jan 30: Pontiac, MI @ The Crofoot Pike Room
Jan 31: Chicago, IL @ Subterranean
But they're coming to the East Side. Which is where all the hip cats live, in case you didn't know.
(above photo: the view from my front window in approximately 12 hours.)
After watching yet another riveting episode of Stylista on the CW--wait! it gets better, I promise!--I started watching the local news. Right after I learned that the innerbelt bridge I take home from work everyday is even closer to collapse (joy. add to unending list of things to do: find new way home that doesn't involve tons of concrete beneath me that may or may not be stable. also, find weather-appropriate shoes because nature did not intend ballet flats for Cleveland winters.)
Then--within the first 10 minutes as promised--I learned from my meteorologist and her neat-o green screen that lake effect snow is on its way. I'm going to stock up on hot cocoa and Molly Ringwald movies. But I'm worried that may not be enough...
So what are you going to do when you're all snowed in and you've watched every Tivo-ed episode of Gossip Girl you've got and staring at your computer screen for even one more minute will undoubtedly cause your eyeballs to melt out of your head? Try these songs-and some flannel pjs--on for size.
Last night, my husband and I went to see the latest creation to roll out of Charlie Kaufman's mind and onto the big screen: Synecdoche New York (please don't ask me how to pronounce that. Trying to convey to the box office worker what movie tickets I wanted was challenging enough). The movie started at 7:30. Two hours later, the credits started rolling and I had no idea what I had just seen.
I knew going in that it was a Charlie Kaufman movie, so I certainly wasn't expecting a straightforward romantic comedy. I love Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind (confession: I still haven't seen Adaptation or Being John Malkovich), so I thought I could handle this movie. I thought very, very wrong.
Here's what I did gather (don't worry, there aren't any spoilers because honestly I wouldn't know what to spoil):
- The movie was about being your truest self (what that has to do with warehouses within warehouses within cities, I'm not sure), and that's something that resonates not only with me, but with everyone I think. We spend our whole lives being ourselves, but how often do we really know who we are?
- It had to do with theater, and representations of life.
There is one line from the movie that I absolutely loved though, something that the main character, Caden, said:
"There are millions of people in the world--and none of those people is an extra."
In theory, last night should have been the best night ever--after all, it was Thursday, the best night ever for TV and Portugal. The Man were in town. In reality, at least part of the awesomeness kind of slipped right through our hands.
But, this is Cleveland, we're surprisingly used to disappointment.
Not disappointing were Portugal. The Man during their late-night show at the Grog Shop. Wasilla, Alaska's second-most famous export likely knows that Africa is a continent not a country, and jammed out a solid performance (hence the photo above. I know what you're thinking: "Whoa, that photo has a blue light! Jen always takes pictures when the stage lights are red! What's going on? Who am I? What is the meaning of life?" To which I say, "Calm down. My husband Robb took the picture. He's taller and therefore can get pictures that don't consist mainly of the backs of people's heads.").
It shouldn't surprise you that I'm kind of high-maintenance. When it comes to shoes and live music, I kind of have high expectations and I don't like to be disappointed. When I pay money, drive around for hours looking for a parking spot, pay for overpriced food and drinks and endure countless opening bands just to get to the headliner I came to see, I don't just want to hear the album regurgitated. I want them to perform it--and jumping around in gimmicky outfits with emo hair does not a performance make. When I go to a show, I want the band to give me something I can't find on their album or on the internet. It's kind of an intangible thing, that "x factor" I guess, but however you describe it - Portugal. The Man brought it.
My advice for you: If you have the chance to check out these wild-eyed indie-rockers when they come to your neck of the woods, I would suggest you do so. Also, beware of mid-calf boots, they are a tricky, tricky animal.
Last night, as I sat at my computer in our home office (aka "The Situation Room"), history was made.
But before we get to that--for those living somewhere other than planet earth--the obvious historic moment last night was that Barack Obama was elected president. It's more than a big deal. But it wasn't the only thing making history...
Did you see those holograms on CNN? They were crazy, as in crazy awesome. They were straight up "Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi"-awesome. Courtesy of thirty five HD cameras, a reporter in Chicago was having a live conversation with Wolf Blitzer in not-Chicago via hologram. My mind was sufficiently blown.
My understanding of global politics now leads me to one inevitable conclusion: A hologram race will room envelop the planet much like the space race of the 50's and 60's and the arms race of the Cold War. I guess we'll just have to trust Alaska to keep an eye on the Russian hologram program... What? Too soon?
Spooks and spirits come out to play. There are candy bowls overflowing at the AP skyscraper and on my kitchen counter. And for one day a year, being ghostly pale is something everyone else in the world strives for. It just makes my little heart pitter-patter.
I may not have decided on my costume yet for this year (it's only a day away, I know!) but my favorite little monster has: He's a Jack-o-latern!
