Back 40. Ish. Back .25, maybe.

The yard was all aglow one recent evening, even if it was a bit smoky.

Snake sighting

On a recent trek downtown, I came across a snake named Steve who was next to the City-County Building where Mayor Satya Rhodes-Conway plotted her reelection inside.

Cat!

Chops a must

Lately I've had a taste for pork chops cooked on the grill. That charred porcine goodness has just been appealing to me as of late. Plus I've got my grill dialed in for chops. Practice makes perfect.

For the most recent ones, my ladyfriend sauteed some cabbage mix. I added applesauce, homemade pickles courtesy of my boss, and horseradish for that extra root vegetable touch. I generously applied that Cherry Bomb BBQ rub that I got in the spring. Really tasty stuff.

With dinner I had a Czech lager from Eau Claire's Lazy Monk Brewing. Leos Frank brews fine Czech-style beers.

It's not a number, it's a wheat flour!

My most recent trek to a Polish grocery store yielded not only an IPA but also flour.

I was in the baking aisle looking at the various types of flours and noticed that most, if not all, of them had a number on the label. I'd heard of 00 flour for pasta but non-zero numbers were new to me. While I figured it had to do with the milling and was quite curious about this, I grabbed the above bag because my intention was to make makowiec and there is one right there in living color.

If I recall correctly, bags with a lower number had photos of delicate pastries on them and those with higher numbers had picture of dark, hearty, rib-sticking loaves of bread so I figured the smaller the number, the finer the flour.

The next day I did a little investigation and found that Western and Central Europe uses these flour codes - see here - and that the numbers refer to ash content. What is God's name is ash content?

Well, it's a measurement of the mineral salt laden ashes left when you incinerate a set amount of flour at 550 degrees Centigrade. As the above-linked site says:

...bran layers contain roughly ten times more ash than the starchy endosperm. As the miller extracts more bran into the flour, ash rises. As a result, ash content is a reliable proxy for extraction rate and, by extension, for flour colour, fibre content, flavour intensity, and mineral content.

And so the Polish T numbers on the flour bags indicates how much ash you get when you burn up 100g of flour. In my case type 550 means 550 mg ash/100g flour.

One reason I was looking into flour at the Polish store was that my ladyfriend experiences little to no gluten sensitivity when eating wheat in Europe but encounters some when eating American wheat and I thought it'd be nice to be able to bake something for her and not engender sore joints.

I've looked online for explanations for this phenomenon but have found no definitive answers. Is it the hard red wheat commonly used in our flours? Is it how it's processed?

Looking into this, the obvious became apparent to me: American flours, at least those from megacorps, only tell you the purpose of the flour but don't tell you what kind or kinds of wheats are in the sack. We don't have the gradations that they have in Europe. Here it's all-purpose, whole wheat, or a specialty blend such as self-rising or cake flour. I'm a King Arthur man and their labels indicate the flour is of hard red wheat. My rye flour is usually Bob's Red Mill but that gives no indication of what kind of rye variety may be in the bag nor of any indication of how finely it was milled.

As for as my ladyfriend's gluten sensitivity goes, I think once the weather gets down to more appropriate baking temperatures, I may give spelt and einkorn a shot and see if that affects her like hard red wheat. Lest anyone think I am violating a Kantian imperative, know that she will willingly sample tasty treats even in the face of potential discomfort.

Take me down to the Lake City, where the walls are blue and the girls are pretty

Last weekend I went to the Lake City Books grand opening at their new digs with my ladyfriend who is a big fan of the store. The move wasn't far - just across the Square - but the new space is much larger and, in the grand Wisconsin tradition, has a bar.

The place was hoppin' when we got there. The staff were busier than a one-eyed man at a burlesque show as folks perused the shelves in a search for their next read. There were quite a few families there with parents ushering their young ones towards the children's section as well as lots of people standing around chatting.

I liked the blue color scheme and the limnological decorations.

I was hoping for more space dedicated to books (I adored Shakespeare's Books back in the day with its towering shelves and enough barely lit aisles to get lost in a la the scriptorium in The Name of the Rose) but the rather tiny non-fiction section yields more space for sitting & reading on couches and socializing and, I guess you could say, for people to make it their third space. And I am told the expanded space with make author events easier on a number of fronts. Speaking of socializing, the bar looked like a typical Friday night at any local tavern.

The crowd was on the younger side - 30s mostly it seemed, so the rumors of reading's death are perhaps greatly exaggerated.

I walked out with a copy of The Tainted Cup.

Godspeed to Lake City. They also have a nice sticker selection. Almost forgot to note that.

"The Sarge"??

One of my great uncles worked for Marvin Glass and Associates in Chicago where he started as a model maker for the toy design company before working his way up. The toys I recall the best that the company was responsible for are Simon, Operation, Lite Brite, and Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots, though they came up with countless more.

Several years ago a family member alerted me to a book about Marvin Glass in which my great uncle was mentioned. I'd never seen a copy until now.

I've been skimming the book, reading about my great uncle, mostly, but I have learned about many toys I was unfamiliar with as well as that the company was responsible for the arcade game Journey featuring the band whose "Don’t Stop Believin'" was featured in the final scene of The Sopranos. Sadly, I also learned about a mass shooting at their offices in 1976 when a disgruntled designer killed 3 and wounded 2.

The sidebar about my great uncle notes he was known as "The Sarge" for his no nonsense approach to managing the designers.

I had never heard that nickname before but do recall him as being mild-mannered but also not afraid to speak his mind. Plus he always gave me $100 bills at Christmas and, when I was very young, I was allowed into the basement at his house where there were piles of toys that his company had designed and I was allowed to take whatever I wanted.

Since his death I've heard several stories about him and have come to understand him as a very generous person who prioritized family. When I was a young man he told me that it was fine to sow your oats in your 20s but, by 30, I should start moving into a career and, essentially, start being a responsible adult - advice that I followed. Largely, anyway.

GENER-AY-SHUN!

Earlier this week I went down to Chicago to see Pavement. Finally!

I think I got into them a bit after Wowee Zowee was released but it took me 30 years to go see them. Better late than never. They played here in Madison at the Barrymore in 1994 but I don't think they returned after that and instead stuck to Milwaukee and Chicago. So, back in the spring when I saw the announcement that they'd be at The Salt Shed come summer, I figured I'd better go as none of us are getting any younger.

I reserved a parking spot via ParkChirp but the ramp's scanner rejected my code. Oh well. I will never use them again. I parked and then went and grabbed some dinner at a little Mexican place by Halsted and Scott. The chicken quesadillas were tasty.

It was a perfect evening for an outside show with a temp in the mid-70s when I arrived at The Salt Shed. The outdoor area - the Fairgrounds - was a nice spot. There were a few vendors selling food and schwag towards the back while a handful of small sections of bleacher seats lined part of the wall of the Shed for those who preferred a seat without paying a premium to hang with the sophistos on the deck above.

There was a fair amount of space up near the front so I made my way to the bar nearest the stage for a brew. A comely young woman greeted me, "Hello, friend." I felt like I'd been transported back to the 1930s and that she'd tell me Pavement was the bee's knees. Not surprisingly, a sawbuck won't get you a beer at The Salt Shed. I ordered a Della, a Kölsch(-Style Ale) from Old Irving Brewing which was $11. Uff da!

Refreshing libation in hand, I found a spot not too far from the stage for the opening band, Nap Eyes. Hailing from Canada, this group of 20-somethings reminded me a little bit of Pavement here, a tad of Silversun Pickups there. Despite the songs feeling a bit undercooked, they were good overall. For their part, the band seemed thrilled to be opening for Pavement.

I returned to the bar for another tasty treat and grabbed a Pils from Dovetail. It was just swell. Expensive but at least they had good beer on tap. Wandering back from whence I had come, I found that my spot had been filled in so I settled for the nearest opening as close to the front as I could get. About half an hour after Nap Eyes had finished, Pavement stepped onto the stage.

Stephen Malkmus got things going with the two-note chiming of "Grounded" and I got very excited as a 30 year dream was finally being fulfilled. Spiral Stairs was grinning as was Mark Ibold and the pair were in good spirits the entire night while Bob Nastanovich seemed to be gearing up for mischief. Touring keyboardist Rebecca Cole had a smile on her face and looked to be ready for a good time. Steve West had a more serious look but that's drummers for ya. I think in all of the concert videos I've seen, he has looked like he was intensely concentrating.

Not having looked at any setlists, I was curious if they'd avoid Crooked Rain Crooked Rain for the most part but "Gold Soundz" was played early and followed up by a great "Silence Kid" featuring Nastanovich on cowbell. The show touched on all of the band's albums along with some non-album tracks thrown in for good measure. 

When they started "AT & T" I heard a blood curdling scream to my left. Turning to look at the source of the sound, I saw a woman falling onto her companion gripped by elation. I cannot recall the last time I witnessed someone so incredibly thrilled to hear a particular song at a show. Once the tune was done, she yelled "Thank you for playing my favorite song!". "Fight This Generation" was great and afterwards Spiral Stairs looked over at Malkmus and commented that he didn't say "generation" right and proceeded to enunciate it with an exaggerated tone. This prompted a group of women behind me to do the same. They sounded like the woman from Citizen Kane who says "Charlie Kane" at one point in the film. Is it Susan? Was it a New York accent?

While I was hoping to hear "Transport Is Arranged", I did not. But they did play a couple Terror Twilight outtakes - "The Hexx" and "Harness Your Hopes", which were both great. Spiral Stairs got to step out on "Date W/IKEA" and, unexpectedly, "Painted Soldiers", a song I adore. Also unexpected was a slow jam on "Stairway to Heaven". When Malkmus started scratching out the melody, I thought, "Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?" It was sloppy and different lyrics got thrown in and it was just glorious.

"Unfair" is the song that got me into Pavement and so, when they started playing it, I kind of went bonkers. But, having gone solo, I didn't have anyone to fall onto. It was great! The whole show was great. The band were in good spirits, smiling and goofing around, and the vibe in the audience was fantastic and I should be so lucky to have it at every concert I go to. There was the "AT & T" lover, the women shouting "Generation!", and Nastanovich grabbing a woman just offstage and dancing with her during "We Dance".  Also thousands of people shouting "No big hair!" People just seemed to be having a good time and the whole night just had a great, joyous vibe.

A couple different people recorded the show on video and have put everything up on Youtube.

Willow taking a break

A Polish IPA

I couldn't resist tasting a Polish take on the American IPA.

Żywiec is a large Polish brewer and I was curious to find out if they went all in with the fruity hops and made something like Hawaiian Punch or if they were going to ease their customers into this new-fangled American way of doing things.

Luckily for my tastebuds it was the latter. A caramel-tasting pale ale gets a dose of herbal/spicy hops that easily counters the sweetness; a nebulous bit of tropical fruit lurks in the background.

A tasty brew.

Cats on a porch

Cuteness, 23 July 2026

A couple more new Son Volt tunes

Jay Farrar is in full Woody Guthrie mode these days.

"Raw power at the root and heart of evil"

"Skeleton at the Feast" is vaguely Rolling Stones flavored with that slide guitar.

The latest came out only today and sees the band musically doing a tribute to Neil Young with a very -"Cortez the Killer" kind of tempo and feel. Plus more Guthrie-esque lyrics about life under Trump.

Pink Floyd in Madison '73 - in colour

Pink Floyd kicked off the tour for Dark Side of the Moon here in Madison on 4 March 1973. While I have never seen an audio recording of that show in general circulation, I now see that there are a couple videos from that show - high res scans of Super 8 film.

It is really neat to see and hear the tunes from Obscured by Clouds.

Catibal Lector

My ladyfriend recently received a rather odd gift:

Some kind of cat dome mask. To prevent cat attacks? Keep a feline friend from gnawing at a wound? Whatever it is, she didn't order it and cannot get anyone to cop to having done so.

While I am sure it has a legitimate use, we both found it rather creepy. For my part, it looked like it was meant for a feline Hannibal Lector.

    

""Well, Skip, have the cats stopped meowing?"

Upside down cat

"...there was only God to cry to now."

I watched season 1 of True Detective knowing that it was inspired by The King in Yellow but hadn't actually read the text. When I revealed this in a group chat with a bunch of other Call of Cthulhu GMs, I was roundly castigated. Well, not really but one was adamant that I do so.

Shortly after that bout of texting, I put it on hold at the library and, after what seemed like a long time but was actually only a couple of months, a copy was made available to me.

One of the things about that first season of True Detective that I noticed was how The King in Yellow was a menacing presence in the background and not an immanent threat. This I found slightly disappointing but, now having read the short stories from which the figure emerges, I am highly undisappointed and feel that the TV show got it right.

While the book has several short stories, it's really only the first four that reference The King in Yellow. It should be said that "The King in Yellow" is the name of the short story collection, a two act play mentioned in the stories that renders whomever should read it mad, and also a malevolent figure.

The first tale, "The Repairer of Reputations", relates the story of one Hildred Castaigne. We learn of a head injury he sustained when falling from his horse and that, while convalescing, he read The King in Yellow and emerged a changed man. So much so that he was committed to an asylum where he was treated for madness.

The treatment failed.

Hildred consorts with a blackmailer named Mr. Wilde who also is touched by madness and has strange ideas about "The Imperial Dynasty of America" and Hildred's place in its line of succession, let's say. The would-be king adopts all manner of delusions and conceives a grandiose scheme in a bid to become king.

I enjoyed "The Repairer of Reputations" as it chronicled Hildred's further descent into delusion and madness. We learn about the potency of the play and are introduced to The King in Yellow himself.

"The Mask" is about an alchemical love triangle. Alec and Boris both desire Geneviève but Geneviève loves Boris more. Boris, a sculptor, has come up with a potion that transforms living creatures into marble. Alec isn't keen on this transmogrification business and instead turns to reading The King in Yellow play.

Tragedy follows wherein Geneviève is turned to marble but there's a happy ending which I am unsure of because it is told to us by Alec who is surely not well mentally after having read the infernal play. Did Alec's love really become flesh once again?

The final of the four, "The Yellow Sign", was my favorite.

It concerns a painter, a Mr. Scott, whose model, Tessie, has the most macabre dream in which she watches a hearse go by her window. Nothing too strange, right? But A) the driver's face looks pallid - like he's dead and B) it is Scott's face that stares out from the open casket.

It also turns out that the churchyard watchman who stands just across the street from the studio is the same man in Tessie's dream!

Cue dramatic music.

I liked the comparatively slow burn here. First there is a strange dream followed by its seemingly impossible connection to the real world. Then Tessie gives the Scott a yellow pin with an unknown design on it. Not long afterwards a copy of The King in Yellow appears in Scott's home and it's all downhill for our artist. When he remarks that he and Tessie sat up all night discussing the infernal play, you know it's over for him.

I enjoyed how the story starts off with a bit of sexual tension and then a creepy dream gets thrown into the mix and it just gets weirder and more horrible from there.

Overall, I found these King in Yellow stories to be mysterious, creepy, and fun reads. The King in Yellow - the play and the figure - are menacing but opaque. People read the play but we only get a few lines from it here and there. These are strange, tragic tales with The King in Yellow influencing events from the shadows and driving people mad instead of being a monster that steps into the light to wreak havoc. The effect of reading the second act is what's important, not knowing the details nor coming face to face with the King himself. Nic Pizzolatto, the writer of True Dectective's first season did a wonderful job of transposing this aesthetic to a 21st century TV show.

Morning déjà vu

When I look at this photo, it looks familiar to me but I cannot figure out why. The best I can come up with is that the composition is vaguely close to some Terry Gilliam animation for Monty Python. Hopefully it comes to me.

Meanwhile I shall enjoy Willow's overwhelming cuteness.

Vital Heat

I am not enjoying this heat. It is stifling and now we've got the forest fires up in the Boundary Waters putting a diaphanous layer of grey on everything. But the temps are good for a couple things: brewing tea and growing serrano peppers.

The sun's ray have been caressing the chili plant for 4-5 days and they've culled out many a chili. It's going bonkers. I am going to start putting serranoes into everything. Picante Cheerios, anyone?

Me enjoy myself ex post facto

Last week Phish had a two night stand here in Madison. Back in the spring when the shows were announced I considered buying a ticket. I am not a Phishhead but I do think Billy Breathes is a fantastic album and one that is intimately tied to a particular time of my life. There are some very potent memories tied to it in my brain. Beyond that album, I enjoy a smattering of their catalogue. For instance, I think there are some really good, fun tunes on Hoist and "Fuego" is a stone cold classic.

I saw them in 1994 here in Madison and truly enjoyed parts of that show but I admired most of it rather than liking it. Given my spotty taste for their music, would it be worth going?

With the shows now history and recordings of them freely available, I am kicking myself, albeit gently.

The first night they performed a couple tunes from Billy Breathes, "Free" and "Character Zero", plus "Fuego". And on the next night "Julius" from Hoist was played along with another pair of songs from Billy Breathes, "Prince Caspian" and "Waste".

I have written about my love for "Prince Caspian" previously and so I was a bit sullen immediately after seeing it in the setlist. I had missed "Prince Caspian"! Gah!

Oh well.

While I cannot go back in time, I can enjoy recordings from those nights. Thanks to all the tapers who shared their material online.

 

Ice cream fit for a king

I cannot recall what we had for dinner the evening my ladyfriend and I went to Ice Cream Social but I do remember that it was blazing hot outside. Either dinner was an average meal overshadowed by ice cream or it was a good meal and Ice Cream Social makes some really damn good treats.

A gentleman was making the waffle cones as we stepped up to the display case and perused the flavors on offer. My ladyfriend had browned butter and I, unsurprisingly, ordered chocolate buttermilk.

Both flavors were excellent and I must admit that ICS makes the richest ice cream I've ever put into my maw. For sheer chocolate flavor, Zanzibar retains its title but this stuff was simply decadent. I worried that I might come down with gout on the way home.

Why yes, Madison does have a street named Sirloin Strip.

And on Sirloin Strip is a fine Columbian restaurant, El Pollo Rumbero. Google Translate says that it means, The Chicken Party-Goer. I like The Chicken Party Animal, personally. The name alone throws the gauntlet down before La Pollera Columbiana. Personally I think the more Columbian chicken places, the merrier.

I recall this place having been a hookah joint in the recent past but cannot recall what business was there prior to that. After searching, I see that it was Hanna's 77 Sirloin Strip at some point. The exterior definitely has a rural Wisconsin supper club thing going on. The El Pollo Rumbero folks have painted the walls with lovely bright colors with some serious Día de los Muertos vibes.

My ladyfriend ordered chicken wings and fries along with a salad while I had half a roasted chicken with fries, rice, and salad. We shared some fried calamari.

Both the calamari and the fries suffered the same fate of being undercooked. By that I mean that they were cooked to an edible degree but a bit of browning was in order. Flaccid fries are a sad thing to have on one's plate.

I think my ladyfriend misordered as the wings were just plain ones and not sauced like a large plate of them that mistakenly came to us before quickly being whisked away to a nearby table amidst a chorus of apologies. The salad was excellent with a nicely seasoned vinaigrette. My ladyfriend's salad was on the large side and she was unable to finish it. However, I did so the next day.

My roasted chicken was excellent. The skin was well-charred while the meat was tender and moist. What really made it super-delicious was the seasoning. It tasted peppery-herbal with just the right amount of salt for my taste. This chicken was so good that it now really stands out for me amongst all restaurant meals in town.

Thick cut pork chops grilled up fine have become a staple of my diet lately.

As has homemade cabbage salad of some ilk. A simple meal, I grant you, yet highly tasty. I am getting the grilled dialed in and I don't have to heat my kitchen with the stove/oven.

Last week I took my youngest stepson out for dinner to Guimo's Mexican Restaurant in Sun Prairie. Part of my motivation was to simply throw some business their way now that there was neither road nor sidewalk out front. We walked in after traversing some highly unlevel packed gravel and found that there were a fair number of people who apparently felt the same way as we were far from the only patrons. This was our second time there and my first experience featured some solid Mexican grub. The same held this time.

One thing I've been doing lately at Central & South American restaurants is trying out their soups. The ones that aren't pozole or menudo, that is. That night I had some of their chicken tortilla soup which came in that orange Fiestaware bowl. They did not skimp on the chicken. Tomato, chili - this was tasty stuff.

Last week my ladyfriend fried up some cabbage and onions and then served it with some meat pelmeni procured somewhere in the Chicago area on top.

I whipped up some spicy sour cream for the occasion. Again, simple but very tasty.

Last Saturday I took my ladyfriend to meet my family in Chicago. A cousin from out west was in town to celebrate his retirement and so we had a modest family gathering in honor of his milestone. Before we hit the road we stopped in at Cottage Cafe to break our fasts. I had walleye and eggs.

This seems to be an Upper Midwestern breakfast. Cottage Cafe did it well as the breading on the fish was applied with a light hand. When paired with rye toast, it is truly a delightful way to start my day.

I am a prepper. But not for the fall of our government and the ensuing anarchy nor for the end of days. I prepare for 90+ degree temps when I dare not cook in the apartment and am reluctant to be outside. And so on Sunday I prepped.

The first thing I made was pico de gallo.

I used one of the two serranos that I harvested early from my plant. Tasty but it could have used both of the chilies. And I forgot to get cilantro. D'oh!

Next was corn salad.

Normally I have black beans in there but, like the cilantro, I completely forgot to buy any at the store so I threw in a couple tomatoes that didn't become pico, avocado, and onion. This was all tossed in a vinaigrette that was given a large dose of coriander. The corn was actually rather sweet instead of bland and starchy so this salat turned out well.

Also on Sunday I found myself with a pound of ground beef to use up and didn't want to make burgers and so it ended up being used in stuffed green peppers cooked on the grill. I had no rice but I did have buckwheat groats so this ostensibly Italian type dish ended up with a Slavic complexion. Once I had the filling mixed up, I stood there contemplating a binding agent. What to use? Then it occurred to me that I had some tomato-basil cheese left and it was quickly shredded.

I had never attempted stuffed peppers on the grill before so I winged it. They spent a little time directly over the coals in an attempt to char their bottoms. This was moderately successful. Once this phase was done, I moved them away from the heat and let them cook for about 20 minutes.

They turned out alright. Tasty but next time I want to cook the peppers a bit longer all around. More char and a little less crunchiness to them. I only had 2 peppers so I had a crap ton of filling leftover and have been eating it on its own since. I think the nutty flavor of the buckwheat went well with the green bell pepper, though I can imagine that rice would better complement a sweeter yellow or red one.

Today I am feeling ground beef & buckwheated out and am contemplating what to have for dinner. I do need to run an errand after work so perhaps I can let someone else do the cooking this evening.

One final thought: the service at all of the above restaurants was good. The servers were all quite friendly, each and every one.

Spam, eggs, potatoes, and spam

If you need your Spam fix for breakfast, head on over to the Cottage Cafe.

George: A Portrait

Beer is best when fresh

I was reminded the other day that beer is, generally speaking, best when fresh.

Poking around the frig for a cold one because it was 90+ degrees out, I came across a can of Sand Creek's Woody's Easy Ale that I bought in Black River Falls back in May.

Unfortunately, it had started to spoil. A real bummer as this is a fine brew with a vaguely doughy malt taste and a gentle hop balance. Highly recommended. Also highly recommended is to drink it while fresh.

Los Lobos Gave Us a Happy Time

Despite having played in Stoughton back in March, Los Lobos returned to Madison for two shows at La Fete de Marquette last week. I missed night #1 on Thursday but headed down to McPike Park on Sunday evening for their second performance of the festival. There I met up with my music doc watching pal who was there with a friend of his.

  

(Sorry Steve Berlin.)

The gig's first few songs seemed to lean heavily on The Neighborhood. I recall "Emily", a vaguely wistful but thoroughly beautiful song that I've always thought of as being about young love. They also did the hopeful "The Giving Tree", a communal paean if there ever was one. Later they did a spirited "Georgia Slop" which got many a booty shakin'.

"Shakin' Shakin' Shakes" is always a great party tune while "Kiko and the Lavender Moon" was just gorgeous; sublime & mellow, it was a brief chance to relax in a set mostly consisting of uptempo tunes meant to get you movin'. A little bit of "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" led right into "Oye Como Va". Curiously enough, the band played not one but two Grateful Dead covers: "West L.A. Fadeaway" mid-show and "Bertha" for an encore. Personally I could have done with just one. Or another of their originals. "Everybody Loves a Train", for instance.

Cesar Rosas was MC and he sounded like he was in good spirits. At one point he said that they were going to do a song by the late, great Flaco Jiménez which prompted David Hidalgo to strap on an accordion which he played for a couple two tree songs. At one point he also grabbed a güiro and played that while Rosas and Louie Pérez soloed.

The band's lone hit, their cover of Richie Valens' "La Bamba" closed out the show.

Los Lobos are, in my estimation, the premiere Americana band. They do Tejano, rock, rock'n'roll, R&B, blues, Latin jazz, ranchera, et al and they threw in a bit of everything on Sunday evening.

After the show I got a chance to chat with local bass player extraordinaire Kenny Stevenson. I hadn't seen him in ages so we caught up a bit and now I am planning to see him perform with Loving Cup at the Orton Park Festival next month where he'll do his best Bill Wyman imitation.

I took some video of  the jam the closes "Chuco's Cumbia". It was fantastic. Just listen to that baritone sax! (Sorry about the shaky cam.)

Shocking!

 

Yawns

R.I.P. Sam Neill

Until the End of the World! The Piano! Sirens! In the Mouth of Madness! And this one. Goodbye Sam Neil.