(The venue’s fantastic logo was created by my buddy Keith Neltner of Neltner Small Batch.)
Sidebar: perhaps you read about Whiskey City’s Liberty Theater in Cincinnati Magazine’s Fall Arts Preview last year? If not, you can rectify that omission from your reading list right here. The author’s name sounds familiar to me…
I really had no business driving that far to see an 8 o’clock show on a “school night.” Especially with severe weather alerts across the Tri-State. But I want to support Dan McCabe – the brains behind the venue’s reinvention, and a legendary music promoter. He’s doing his best to bring great music (and comedy, and whiskey tastings, and record fairs, and fried chicken) to a somewhat sleepy river town. Besides, my friend Dave told me weeks ago that he’d be there for the show. Good tunes and good company – worth the trip.
Dave didn’t show – he’s had some health issues recently and his wife didn’t want him driving alone in bad weather.
The crowd was sparse. (I talked to Dan at the show and he’s playing the long game – some of the artists he’s booking might have 40 for their first show, but 150 for their next one based on word of mouth.)
The venue is a gorgeous, lovingly restored 130-year-old music hall, with a top-notch sound system.
The opener, Dale Hollow, was a lot of fun – even though he had to compete with the tornado sirens that went off during his set. (We were spared, just heavy rain… I know you were worried about my safety.)
Sarah Shook & the Disarmers are on tour to promote their latest album Revelations. But before the tour started, it turned into a farewell tour too. Health issues for one longtime band member, and personal issues for another, made it hard to keep a touring band together. It’s a tough go on the road, spending endless hours in a van with your bandmates, and sometimes playing for sparse crowds, for little money.
But the band didn’t let any of those obstacles keep them from putting on a stellar show.
The lead singer River (nee Sarah) writes some great songs, and they have a great attitude about tuning out the “business” part of the music business, and tuning into their heart.
The nice woman at the merch booth gave me a copy of the set list.
The band members stuck around after the show to talk to audience members, and sign merchandise. Good luck having that happen at an arena show.
Thank you, Sarah Shook & the Disarmers, for making a long trip on a dark and stormy night totally worth it. Thanks even more for your art, straight from your hearts to mine.
I’m lying. I don’t love a parade. They seem sorta silly to me. Way too much forced waving – the folks on the floats have to do it, or else they’d feel really self-conscious… and then the spectators feel like they have to wave back, just to be polite. (At least that’s how I feel.)
But I do like the Cincinnati Reds Opening Day Parade.
Because it’s organized by Findlay Market – Ohio’s oldest continuously operating public market. (And also the place that has always felt like the most welcoming and egalitarian spot in the city to a non-Cincinnati-native like me.)
Because the parade has been going on for 106 years.
Because it celebrates the first game of the Cincinnati Reds, the oldest professional franchise in MLB.
Because the parade’s grand marshal is usually a Reds old-timer, which means he’s usually a hero of mine from my younger days. This year, Chris Sabo had the honors. You gotta love a parade that has “Spuds” as the grand marshal!
Because it marks an unofficial civic holiday. This year’s event coincided with the spring break for Cincinnati Public Schools, but rest assured that if it didn’t there would be tons of kids who couldn’t make it to school due to “Reds fever.” Taking your kids out of school to go to the Opening Day parade is a rite of passage.
[photo credit for shot above, the Sabo parade photo, and the two below: Liz Dufour, The Cincinnati Enquirer – full gallery is here]
Because it brings out thousands of spectators, from all walks of life.
Because pretty much anyone can get into the parade. There are the requisite parade entries: high school and college bands, politicians in convertibles, Shriners in tiny cars…
But you also get a lot of randos. There were a whopping 159 entries in this year’s parade. Including the Wapakoneta Optimists Lawnmower Drill Team, and entries called “Opening Day Gang” and “Groove Crew of Greater Cincinnati.”
It’s a weird excuse for a party, but it’s unique to Cincinnati. It’s ours. That’s what makes it special. Chicago has their green river on St. Paddy’s. Philly has the Mummers Parade on New Year’s Day. NYC has the Macy’s parade on Thanksgiving. And we celebrate the start of baseball season… and spring… and hope for better days ahead. Play ball!
Jane Goodall spent most of her life studying chimpanzees. But she was a pretty astute observer of bipedal primates too.
“The greatest danger to our future is apathy. We can’t all save the world in a dramatic way, but we can each make our small difference, and together those small differences add up. Every single person makes an impact on the planet every single day. The question is: What kind of impact do you want to make?” — Jane Goodall
Here’s to small differences, instead of indifference!
March Madness starts tonight. 68 teams vying for that “one shining moment.” But Steve Alford has already had his, and it was in a post-game press conference, speaking the truth to the NCAA powers that be.
Alford was a great college basketball player. And he recently won his 700th game as a college basketball coach. His entire adult life has been spent in the game. So we need to listen when he talks about how ridiculous the current NIL (name, image, and likeness) landscape is.
He’s exactly right. The athletes should be paid, but the way the system is set up right now, it’s at the expense of academics, life skills, and work ethic.
And he brings up a great point I’d never considered before. 18-year-olds can pull in six figures… sometimes seven… for their skills as an “amateur” athlete. But when their eligibility is up in a few short years, that money train goes away. Will they be prepared, at age 22 or 23, for the real world? Would you, if your “salary” went from $500K to zero in the blink of an eye, be able to adapt?
The NCAA and collegiate athletics should be about teaching life lessons. Period.
Steve alford
“Ball is life”… until it isn’t.
The NCAA doesn’t need to fix March Madness, but they do need to fix the NIL madness that’s year-round.
Howdy folks, “Honest Donny” here, and we’re really excited about the new car dealership I just opened at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in D.C.
It’s easy to find – just look for the big white house! If that doesn’t work, maybe we’ll add one of those floppy people with no backbone. No, not the Republican members of Congress – although I understand your confusion. I mean one of these:
This month, we’ve got a great deal on some electric cars and tanks… er, I mean trucks.
These babies will really protect you when the rioting starts! (The bad kind, not the tourists visits the J6 folks did.)
Now I know in the past I’ve said some disparaging things about electric cars. Like:
“Electric cars are good if you have a towing company.”
And I said electric car makers “are looking to destroy our once great USA. MAY THEY ROT IN HELL.” And that President Joe Biden sold autoworkers “down the river with his ridiculous all Electric Car Hoax.” And promoting electric vehicles “was the idea of the Radical Left Fascists, Marxists, & Communists.”
But that was before I met this fascist. I want you to meet my new manager, Elon.
He’s a great American… well, he’s South African, but potato/po-tah-toe, right? And he’s making these Teslas – it’s a company he founded! (Oh, sorry, actually, he didn’t start the company, he just invested in it, then wrested control from the founders and tried to claim credit for starting it. Hmm, that’s a situation that could never happen with our government.)
Let me tell you more about these beauties… they’re red, of course, to match my tie, and my hat. And Elon took inspiration from the German automakers to design them. You know, he takes a lot of inspiration from Germany… you might even say he spends most of his time doing a German salute.
And if you put these automobiles into self-driving mode, they’ll take control of the wheel and do all the driving, so you can focus on putting on your orange tanner and combing your hair into a nice cotton candy shape that covers your bald spots.
And the tires, they’re fully inflated… because just like with the economy, inflation is good!
I can put you into one of these babies for just $35,000… or five dozen eggs. You’d better lock down this deal before you get locked up for saying anything bad about me.
We also take trade-ins. Just push, pull, or drag Chuck Schumer down here and we’ll give you a real sweetheart deal, without any sort of negotiations at all, just like Chuckie did for me.
And if you buy now, I’ll throw in a free* pair of gold sneakers. (*you’ll just need to pay the fealty fee of $400… it’s standard for deals like this).
Come on down to Honest Donny’s car lot at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. You can take public transportation… wait, I probably defunded that because it’s “woke.” Maybe take a Cybertruck Uber. Unless it’s snowing.
AppleBoy Steve Jobs knew the not-so-secret secret to creativity:
“Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things. And the reason they were able to do that was that they’ve had more experiences… Unfortunately, that’s too rare a commodity. A lot of people in our industry haven’t had very diverse experiences…The broader one’s understanding of the human experience, the better design we will have.”
This concept applies even if you aren’t in the design realm.
Get out of your bubble. Get into something new. Read a lot – from a variety of sources.
It’s fine to dabble, and be a dilettante. You’re filling the creative well.
There’s an old Hollywood joke that pithily sums up an actor’s full-circle career arc:
Who is John Doe? Get me John Doe! Get me a John Doe-type. Get me a young John Doe. Who is John Doe?
There’s a similar arc for most musicians, and it can be based on their transportation:
Drive the van. Ride in the van. Ride in the bus. Ride on the plane. Ride on the bus. Ride in the van. Drive the van.
There was a big ol’ bus parked outside the tiny Green Lantern Bar in Lexington, Kentucky last night. MJ Lenderman is blowing up. And rightfully so — his music is great.
Six years ago, he was scooping ice cream at a shop in Asheville to support his musical efforts, which included playing guitar for a band called Wednesday (whose ’23 album Rat Saw God is one of my faves from that year).
Three years ago, he released an album called Boat Songs, and got in a van to do a tour that included tiny clubs like the Green Lantern Bar. By the end of the year, Boat Songs hadn’t move a lot of units, but it garnered critical acclaim.
Wikipedia: Lenderman contributed guitar and vocals to the album Tiger’s Blood by Waxahatchee, released in March 2024, and was listed as featured guest artist on the album’s lead single, “Right Back To It”. In March 2024, Lenderman performed “Right Back To It” with Waxahatchee on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.[14] Lenderman’s next album, Manning Fireworks, was released in September 2024.
The next leg of his U.S. tour will be at larger venues. And good luck getting tickets!
The Green Lantern is a tiny dive bar. But it’s very musician-friendly.
It would’ve been very easy for MJ Lenderman and his five-piece band to play a larger venue in Lexington on his current tour. Or skip Lexington altogether, for bigger clubs in bigger cities, for a bigger paycheck. (Diesel gas for the bus ain’t cheap.) Instead, he booked two shows at the Green Lantern.
I was lucky enough to be at last night’s show, thanks to my friend and neighbor Frank, who got tickets as soon as they went on sale… and before Lendermania (yeah, I’m gonna trademark that one!) reached a fever pitch.
Clearly the folks at the bar made an impression on MJ. And he was paying it backward. Because he knows what two sold-out shows means to a small club. And he still remembers what it’s like to scoop ice cream while following your dream.
“Once music and work and money all become the same thing, it gets hard to do it casually. But that was the reason I was able to do anything meaningful in the first place,” he admits. “You can see that through my whole life, just being able to go to a friend’s house and make something and not worry about what it is.”
My dear friend LJ (okay, his real name is John but I never call him that) turned 61 yesterday. For his birthday, he got… surgery. He had a cancerous brain tumor removed last May and has been an absolute champion since then, through the radiation and the oral chemo and the testing regimen. Zapping. Poking. Prodding. Like water off a duck’s back for LJ, who has been both a rock and a rock star.
His latest scan showed some “activity” in the area where the tumor was removed, so the docs went back in yesterday, did a biopsy while he was sedated, and found out it was a recurrence/regeneration of the cancer. So they removed that, and put in some radiation tiles that will zap the area from the inside.
As birthday presents go, “surgery to remove cancer from my cranium” has gotta be pretty low on the wish list. But knowing how LJ is, his reaction won’t be “it sucks” but rather “it is what it is.” He’s been steadfast in his approach: day by day.
One of my favorite musicians, Jesse Malin, calls it “PMA” – Positive Mental Attitude. LJ’s PMA is off-the-charts good. Radiation tiles are one weapon to fight the cancer, but we should never discount the power of PMA. And LJ has other weapons in his beat-cancer arsenal too. I listed them in my post about LJ last year, and they still hold true today:
LJ is in great shape.
He has a family that loves him… and grandkids who adore him.
His faith is strong.
His support network is deep and wide — relatives, neighborhood friends, church friends, even a bunch of knuckleheads from college.
[Phil, LJ, Brian, Dubbatrubba, and Art – Uber driver Tom wasn’t able to attend, but his wife Jodi was there.]
I wouldn’t wish cancer upon my worst enemy. But I do wish that all of us could channel LJ’s PMA. He knows quite profoundly what most of us spend a lifetime ignoring: the present is a present.
He didn’t choose cancer. But he’s choosing to continue to live his life in an exemplary way. With serenity, not anxiety. With love, not anger. With gratitude, not bitterness. In joy, not sorrow.
What I said last year still holds true:
If anyone can beat the odds — and people DO beat the odds — it’s LJ.
We hope. We pray. We believe in miracles. And we cherish the time we get to spend with him.
We don’t know what the future holds. That’s not just true for LJ. It’s true for all of us.
This short essay by Mandy Brown has 777 words. (I counted… OK, Microsoft Word did.) I’m lucky it was brought to my attention by one of the many newsletters I try to read each week/month. (I wish I could remember which one… )
The essay is about dealing with uncertainty. And how uncertainty is the only thing that makes life possible.
Our awareness of life, of its great variety and beauty and possibility, emerges out of uncertainty. Awareness, that sense of being awake to the world, is necessary only because we live in uncertainty. If we knew what was to come, we would have no need for sensemaking, no need to be alert to what’s around us, no need to ever open our eyes and ears and arms to each other.
This is, perhaps, the great paradox of modern technologies: in a world without uncertainty, we would need only be aware of our screens—nothing else would matter. But in the deeply uncertain world we do live in, we cling to those screens because they promise the one thing we can never have.
We want answers, but life delivers questions. Ms. Brown’s advice at the end of the essay makes a ton of sense:
Take small steps.
Be ready to shift directions.
Anticipate surprise.
Trust in creativity.
Go with friends.
Our power is not measured in weapons or cash but in humans; our power is with and through each other.
Life may be uncertain, but I’m certain about that!
This is NOT a music-related post. (I have to post that disclaimer, as two of the four regular readers of this blog don’t like my musical musings.)
Michelle Zauner is the leader of the band Japanese Breakfast. I’m a huge fan. (Their new album comes out soon!)
But she also wrote a very moving memoir about loss – her book Crying in H Mart. When her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Michelle left her East Coast band and flew back to her childhood home in Eugene, Oregon, to take care of her mom during her final months. And as a Korean-American who lost not just her mom but her connection to her Korean heritage, Michelle feels the grief quite intensely.
I can sorta-kinda relate. I’m not mixed race like Michelle, but my mom was first generation Italian-American. And when she passed away, I lost that connection to the Italian part of my heritage. I was lucky enough to spend some quality time with my Italian aunts (Rosetta and Inez) growing up, but chances are my feelings of “Italian-ness” would be much stronger had my mom not passed away when I was so young.
I hadn’t thought about that a lot, until I listened to Michelle speak about her book at Cincinnati’s Mercantile Library earlier this week.
I found myself getting a bit misty-eyed when she talked about the sense of not just maternal loss but also cultural loss. And I started to think that I’m not just a fan of Michelle’s band, but also a kindred spirit with her.
Then. later in the week, I saw this quote:
It is essential for us to welcome our grief, whatever form it takes. When we do, we open ourselves to our shared experiences in life. Grief is our common bond. Opening to our sorrow connects us with everyone, everywhere.
— Francis Weller
Yes, I’m a kindred spirit with Michelle Zauner. And with you. And with everyone who has suffered loss… which is “everyone, everywhere.”
Grateful Living has a monthly series called “Grateful Gatherings.” As fate would have it, the focus for March is “Grief & Gratefulness.” Here’s another Francis Weller quote:
“Gratitude is the other hand of grief. It is the mature person who welcomes both. To deny either reality is to slip into chronic depression or to live in a superficial reality. Together they form a prayer that makes tangible the exquisite richness of life in this moment. Life is hard and filled with suffering. Life is also a most precious gift, a reason for continual celebration and appreciation.”
Amen to that!
The Grief & Gratefulness resources are here. Should you find yourself crying in H Mart, or in the Mercantile Library, or anywhere, really, they could come in handy.
The Mercantile Library is an absolute gem in the Queen City. It’s been open since 1835, but recently completed a remodel that adds much more cool space to what already was the city’s best haven for “readers, writers, and thinkers” as their website says. Michelle Zauner this past Tuesday, Curtis Sittenfeld this past Friday… with Timothy Egan, Crystal Wilkinson, Ada Limón, Colson Whitehead, Kaveh Akbar, and Lauren Groff still on tap this year, along with several other authors, plus book clubs, poetry readings, yoga, and so much more.
It’s a membership library, but the low cost would be worth it just to hang out in their space, and membership gets you early (and often free) access to the author events.
blueandgolddreamer on Vive la Différence!: “Apathy is the worst. It says it all” Mar 25, 04:14
Thomas G Kuhl on (Basket)ball of Confusion: “So many thoughts. I agree that it should be about life lessons. Okay. I will go away quietly screaming” Mar 19, 02:57
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