Here’s what Wikipedia says about Aaron Lee Tasjan:
Aaron Lee Tasjan is an American singer-songwriter, guitarist, and record producer. Tasjan is reported to have his own distinct version of “indie folk grit.”
Here’s what Aaron Lee Tasjan has to say about the state of the world today:
It’s a funny old world right now. Maybe like a lot of you, I find myself drifting from hope to despair, from finding so much joy in the little things to feeling strung out on anxiety about massive things none of us can control. It’s at times a daily rollercoaster. I am resigned to feel how I feel though. I always try to tip my brain into the waters of hope as I believe that is and always will be the correct response to the human condition.
Aaron Lee Tasjan
“Tip my brain into the waters of hope”… that’s a baptism we all need right now. Salvation from a higher power within, when the outside world is topsy-turvy.
Aaron Lee is a darn fine singer-songwriter. And he’s shown me his “indie folk grit” both times I’ve seen him in concert. The first time was back in the summer of 2021. He was supposed to play an outdoor stage, but it was raining buckets, so the show organizers scrambled to assemble a makeshift stage on a covered street next to a parking garage.
(The opener for that show was S.G. Goodman – another stellar indie singer-songwriter!)
Then this past summer, Aaron Lee headlined a summer concert series show at Fountain Square, in the heart of downtown.
A fan in the audience yelled out a request for his song “Alien Space Queen”… Aaron said he couldn’t play it because their set was abbreviated – as is often the case for corporate-sponsored gigs. But he told that person “come to the merch booth after the show and I’ll play an acoustic version for you.” True to his word, he did just that!
He’ll be back in the area this summer, playing a free festival in Springfield, Ohio on May 17. I HOPE to make that gig.
The Final Four of NCAA Division I basketball tips off this evening. The tourney’s top four seeds (Auburn, Duke, Florida and Houston) all advanced to San Antonio. They’re all from “power” conferences. Cinderella doesn’t live here anymore.
The very first game of the tournament was a “First Four” matchup between Alabama State and St. Francis University (PA). The game was at the University of Dayton’s arena, and I was there. Fun game! It came down to a last-second shot by Alabama State after a full-court pass.
That game probably marks the last time we’ll see St. Francis in “March Madness.” Because the school’s board of trustees voted to move their athletics from D-I to D-III. The university president, The Very Rev. Malachi Van Tassell, explained the logic behind that move in this Op-Ed in the Washington Post:
Father Malachi is a Franciscan priest. But prior to joining the order, he was a Certified Public Accountant (bio is here). He knows the math doesn’t work anymore for small schools, especially if they want to be known for schooling instead of for the semi-pro folks on the b-ball team.
Intercollegiate athletics is growing in complexity, based on realities such as the transfer portal, pay for play and other shifts that move sports away from a campus-based love of the game to one that resembles a business… Most Division I schools are forced to squeeze more money from student fees and fundraising to pay for their athletic programs and stay competitive, and often reallocate current and future operating dollars away from salaries and classrooms.
Players are transferring out of schools like ours to play for money and fame at schools with bigger name recognition and budgets. The fact that, for the first time, there isn’t a single program from outside the four major conferences in the tournament’s second weekend bears this out.
Father Malachi wants his student-athletes to be students first, and enjoy campus life. That’s not realistic in the power conferences. There, the “student-athletes” are mainly athletes, and grist for the money-making mill. Don’t get me wrong – I’m fine with the players cashing in. But how can they feel much attachment to a school when they’re likely to leave a year later for greener pastures?
the reality is that big-brand programs are farm teams for the National Football League and the National Basketball Association, and small universities have become farm teams for the big-brand programs.
As a proud alum of Xavier University, another small Catholic school, I really understand what the Padre is laying down. Nearly as soon as my Muskies lost in the tourney, our men’s b-ball head coach departed for the deeper pockets — for him and the players he recruits — at the University of Texas. Nearly every player on the team with eligibility left entered the transfer portal — with the best returning player joining his old coach at Texas (“Hook ’em” indeed… with dollars.) Xavier’s new coach, Richard Pitino, inherited a roster consisting of… one redshirt player. There’s no continuity for fans anymore. We’re not rooting for the student-athletes at our alma mater, we’re rooting for laundry, basically.
If you like the David vs. Goliath story, you’re out of luck. Unless changes are made to NIL and transfer rules, we’ll be watching the same big-money schools duke (ha!) it out every year, while Cinderella is forced to scour the country for new players every year.
I do think other schools should follow the lead of St. Francis, and put the emphasis back on the student experience, and invest more in the school, instead of funneling all that cash into being a feeder system for bigger schools and the pros. It just makes (dollars and) sense.
(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!
impossibly4332b32374 on Light. Laughter. Grace.: “I’ve got The Wet Engine on my shelf, and think I read about half of it. Time for another look.” Apr 21, 09:15
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