the frig blig

Cozy in the metro 16 on my way to work this morn I gave a first listen to Dark Night of the Soul. Was tickled to hear a guy singing ‘Sucking on my angel’s heart,’ only to realize several choruses later he was really saying ‘plucking on my angel’s harp’.

Darn. If Frank had spent a little more time on that tune maybe he could have reached ’sucking on my angel’s heart’, obviously superior.

Which segs into all the creative lyric twistings we’ve known over the years. A couple I recall off the top of my head:

‘Every time she goes away, she takes a piece of meat with her.’

‘Got a Black Magic Marker’

Submit your favs please?

Thanks to the NY Times sunday magazine column The Medium by Virginia Heffernan for writing about thru-you.com, a mashup of YouTube videos by amateur musicians which is rather amazing. They were all made independently and Kutiman did a heck of a job mixing them together. Check it out.

S & I spent a long weekend in Chicago where we joined the B fam to celebrate M’s 85th birthday in style. A fab time was had by all (AFAIK) including, most importantly, the guest of honor.

We love the town but hate the weather.

Among other things we caught Travis Haddix at Rosa’s, attended a matinee performance at the 2nd City Improv comedy club, saw cool art at the Art Institute of Chicago, craned our necks at greystones on Logan Blvd, and ate lots of great food. And possibly the coolest thing, gawked and walked underneath the amazing mirror sculpture at Millennium Park.

Sometimes it’s fun to look down.

On the Metro 7 standing room only
headed west on Jackson –
is that my cellphone ringing in my pocket?
I hate it when I hallucinate getting phone calls.
I hate it hearing that darn ringtone in my head all day
like a bad song on the radio taking up permanent airplay in my head
until it’s dislodged by the next one…
But oh! The unmistakable piercing tone (broop!) of a voice message –
yikes, I missed three calls on that bus.
I am somebody!

Last night I had the good fortune to catch the Lee Redfield Quartet at Lucid, a small jazz bar on the edge of the U district. When they cranked, they cranked, and when they wailed, they wailed. They played lots of traditional jazz standards, a few originals, and one Led Zeppelin tune.

It’s a treat to see this band live and up close. Each musician has chops and they create some tasty arrangements, although some of the old film and tv lines are a little cheesy.

(Disclaimer: I’m friends with two of the band members.)

While visiting my old hometown I paid a visit to the shrine of the old duplex where I had lived for ten or more years…only to find it completely and utterly missing. As my state of flabbergastedness rubbed against my memories of the prior evening when I was reading poems in TS’s house, I went directly to a nearby coffeehouse and wrote the following poem:

gone

I saw this scooter parked outside the Lighthouse this morning and its owner was honored that I liked the sticker enough to snap a photo. He said he picked it up in England. Nice.