Today On A Very Special Friday Video

or a tearful goodbye to an old and loyal friend...

Okay, so last night was the last regulation season Pens game in our arena lovingly known as the Igloo. A knew, more swanky yet less distinctive ice arena is being built right next door. It will have all the newest bells and whistles, up-to-date technology and the coveted money-making luxury boxes that all teams crave these days.

But it won't have the heart of our shiny-domed Igloo.

The arena was the first structure in the country with a retractable roof. I was lucky to be there many evenings when the ceiling quietly split opened, revealing the sparkling gem that is downtown Pittsburgh. I was hoping they'd open it one last time before dismantling this unique structure and tossing it on the scrap heap. Playoff season isn't over yet, so maybe...

Yes, the home of our Boys of Winter is old by today's standards (40+ years) and perhaps it has outlived its money-making usefulness, but it is one-of-a-kind, unique and just plain cool. That's gotta be worth something, right?

Wrong.

Sometimes society doesn't treasure the simple beauty in front its face.

I know it's stupid to get all teary-eyed over a building, but I'm one of those people who humanizes inanimate objects. I get attached... for whatever stupid reason. And it breaks my heart to see this structure go. I mean, come on! It's shaped like a freaking igloo, for Pete's sake... in what more perfect building could Penguins play? But alas, "progress" gets the last word. And so next year we will christen the new sparkling diamond, Consul Energy Arena.

Yeah. That has a catchy ring to it, huh?

That metal structure was home to a lot of proud hockey memories...

So thanks for everything, dear Igloo. For Mario, for Sid, for three Stanley Cup Championships, for the breathtaking view of our city... for feeling like home. You will always occupy a soft spot in my heart.

We shall miss you Old Gal.

Easter Weekend Rhett Fest 2010 (Part One)

or I am so f*cking lucky

Okay, so I have the best husband in the entire World, nay Universe!

I just wanted to throw that out there because it's true. I am so frelling lucky. I am married to this amazing man who puts up with all my shit AND drives a thousand miles through three states in two days to placate my desire to watch my fantasy husband perform back-to-back gigs. Like my boy sings, "If it's not love/what is this/Aaah what is this?"

Good thing my ever-lovin Geo enjoys him as well. Plus, the weather was picture-perfect, we got to have sushi with our long lost Bud who we miss every single day AND Geo didn't have to use a vacation day because Friday was a company holiday. Who knew? So this trip was meant to happen, right?

That's my story anyway.

So anywho, I'm sure you all are sick of my obsession with Mr. Miller, but really I keep going back for more because he never puts on the same show twice, he sings his ass off--no one gives more to his fans than he and when he's feeling confident and playful on stage, the banter is just the best! He's smart, witty, charming. Even when he's taking artistic license with some of his tales, he never fails to entertain. I never ever leave unhappy or unfulfilled. Not the spiritual uplift of a Francis concert, but a happy hum coursing through my veins to accompany the unending smile from ear to ear. Besides, he's just, you know ADORABLE!

Alright. Enough of that ya-ya shit.

So, the first stop of our excursion was a little place in lovely New Hope, PA called John & Peter's. And by little I mean tiny, minuscule, down-right Lilliputian. It was the Mini-Me of night clubs. No lie. This place was like a cave... the ceiling was barely above six feet, cramped perimeter, dark. It only held 80 people. Seriously. It was so low, those of us on the side couldn't stand fully upright resulting in a crouching ovation. Even he clocked himself pretty good on the "padded" rafters.

And Dude... it had the WORST mixers. Like Romulan rot. The juices were hard core rank. Take the absolute worst generic OJ that exists and add pond scum water with a hint of cyanide and you just might duplicate the swill these gals were serving up. I could only force down one cocktail.

I know, right?!? That's like, unheard of for me. I actually spent the concert sober. What?

That said... I did find this sign in the ladies room to be amusing, being that it was Good Friday and all.


I got to speak with Rhett's road manager, Mike beforehand. I met him last summer when the Old 97's played at Hartwood Acres. We had a great conversation. Mike's got a great sense of humor. I bought a new tee then took my place on the Group W bench in the corner to wait for the show to start.

Rhett bounded down the stairs with his large glass of Jameson, and launched into the first of his 30 song playlist. Yeah. He played 30 songs AND a three-song encore. Do you see why I love him?

"Super human, he is."

You are correct, Yoda.

He was in a very playful mood that night, working off the good vibe in the room. He went off on all sorts of topics--several of which I recorded, but one of of the funniest rants, which I foolishly didn't tape, centered around this peculiar... okay horrendous stained glass window on stage.

Seriously. WTF?!? Who the Hell thought that bellowing bloke should be committed to glass? Is he passing a kidney stone? having his innards chomped out by a parasite? being impaled on the fence post? It was, as Mr. Miller said "fucking horrifying", but he was absolutely hilarious about it.

Then after the show he kindly agreed to pose for this...

I will heart him forever and ever for it. Again I say, do you see why I love him. He's such a good sport.

The concert was unbelievable. The energy through the roof. You know, the usual from Rhett. We're so lucky he lives on the East coast. I know he misses his home, but I selfishly hope he doesn't move to Dallas any time soon. I would so miss our little jaunts to see him. But seriously, he should come to Pittsburgh. Club Cafe is perfect for him.

That said, here are some video highlights from New Hope:

The gals in the front row lured him into singing the missing hydra line of Singular Girl. Nice job, Ladies.

A special birthday request I like to call a 4X4: Four-Eyed Girl for her, and a kicking, scream-at-the-top-of-your-lungs version of Four Leaf Clover for all of us. How does he not bruise his brain?

Rhett's going to be a guest voice on Squid Billies. Being an Adult Swim fan, he's gotta be stoked. You can hear us cracking up in the background.

This one is just Rhett ripping on the black fly. Here's a perfect example of the kind of fun you have when he gets all wound up. Again you can hear me and Geo laughing heartily. Proof Geo doesn't completely hate our little excursions. I believe he gives me shit about my obssession just to keep me grounded.

There are more videos posted on my YouTube page.

So to recap:

Interesting venue, John & Peter's. Certainly intimate enough. We were practically on stage with him, but I have three major complaints

a) Cocktails majorly sucked--Good God man! Invest in some top shelf mixers next time.

b) It was waaaay too smoky. Seriously. Enough with the smoking.

c) People would just not SHUT THE HELL UP!?! He was less than ten feet away, people. Um...hello? He can hear you. As Geo always says, "don't you just hate it when the singer who you paid money to see is so loud he interrupts your conversation?"

This post has turned into a beast all its own, therefore I'll write part two tomorrow or the next day. Besides Geo's just got home and it's Thursday which means Community and The Office and 30 Rock... But trust me, you're gonna want to watch the videos from the next night. He was Big.Time.Fun!!

"Soaking Up The City From A Top Step Perch"
or songs to scream along to on a gorgeous day

Okay, so you know those perfect days you sometimes have in the Summer... 80+ degrees, low humidity, gentle breeze, full-on sunshine... you know, a total gift from the Gods. The kinda day when you slap on your shades, open all the windows in the car, crank your favorite CD up to eleven, sing at the top of your lungs and let your spirit soar as you fly through the streets at break-neck speed-- making sure to take the long way home just so you can hit that repeat button one more time.

Today is that day. Absolutely GLORIOUS!!

There are some songs that invoke that sense of elan even if it's the dead of winter, but when the sun is shining and the windows are down, wind blowing through your hair... Aaaaaaaaaa. It's a slice of heaven on earth. There's no better way to wash away the ills of the day. It's absolutely freeing.

Recently our kick-ass public radio station, WYEP asked listeners to submit their 20 essential songs of the decade. That is no easy feat, my friend. Trust me. Hell, I could have filled all 20 slots with my fantasy husband's work alone! Sha!

But it got me thinking. What criteria do you put on a song to term it "essential"? For me the determining factor is whether or not I feel the urge, nay the NEED to crank the volume and sing... LOUDLY. Sadly for those around me I'm not always in tune, but if I keep hitting repeat button over and over, that song is IT.

So here are some of my favorite cruising-with-the-lid-down tunes:

The Golden State by John Doe

The Golden State - John Doe

Let Me Go by Cake

Let Me Go - Cake

Short Skirt, Long Jacket by Cake

Short Skirt/Long Jacket (Album...

See a Little Light by Bob Mould

See A Little Light - Bob Mould

Cruel To Be Kind by Nick Lowe

Cruel To Be Kind - Nick Lowe

And of course, Born To Run by Bruuuuuuuce!! (one, two, three, four...the highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive!!)

Born To Run - Bruce Springstee...

And then of course, there's my fantasy hubby and his band:

Won't Be Home

Won't Be Home - Old 97's

Motorcycle Club

If It's Not Love

If It's Not Love - Rhett Mille...

If My Heart Was a Car

The Fool

The Fool - Old 97's

Roller Skate Skinny

Rollerskate Skinny - Old 97's

Four-Eyed Girl

Four-Eyed Girl - Rhett Miller

Time Bomb

Timebomb - Old 97's

I could go on and on and on...

Clearly, music (and speeding, but I'm working on that. seriously. don't laugh. I really am trying to slow down. really.) is my lifeline, my soul soother. The thing that forever fills me with joy-besides Geo, of course. I'd love to hear some of your must-have driving tunes. There's always room for more on my list.

So if it's a picture-perfect, sunny, summer-like day and you hear a raspy voice bellowing "Won't Be Home" from the inside of a red blur screaming past you on the highway... thaaaaat would be me.

Of Birthdays And Blow Torches

or how my family rocks yet again

Okay, so Geo and I took a "Rhett X 2" road trip this weekend, unaware at the planning stage that it was in fact Easter weekend. Easter weekend is big-time fun in my family. Everyone is in town, there's no pressure of presents, we gorge on copious amounts of chow, we celebrate three birthdays and the fun-not to mention the vino-flows as swiftly as a swollen river in the Spring time. You may recall last year's "pulled pork" frivolity here. Big.Time.Fun!!

Anywho, I'm happy to say we made it home in time to help stir up the works at Big Mar's house. It was an absolutely gorgeous day here in Western PA. We sat outside in the sun and cracked open a primo bottle of wine or three.

Okay, six...it was six bottles of wine. Or maybe seven. I don't really recall. My cheeks were numb and I was slurring a bit.

Okay, a lot. But I wasn't alone. My delightful sisters (and a brother-in-law or two) were all partaking and getting loud and demonstrative right along with me.

We like to celebrate birthdays in our family, especially big-ass, zero-year birthdays. This year we had a major birth-of-note deserving of a par-tay. My brother-in-law, David who has been in the family since I was like nine, so really he's just pretty much my brother, turns 70 next week.

Seventy.

How can that even be? He is soooo not a 70 year old. Seriously. He's active and youthful and fun and adventurous and seemingly tireless. He's a real inspiration, setting a very high bar of how one should age. We should all be this lucky. So, role model or not, naturally we had to yank his chain.

Way back when, 20 years ago when Davey turned 50, my brother flipped on a welder's mask, cranked up the blow torch and proceeded to completely melt the candles all over the cake while attempting to light them. Even though I helped concoct that surprise attack, I had to work and was unable to witness the flame-throwing spectacle first hand.

Stupid, Stupid work.

So yesterday, in a moment of spontaneity, my brother--my wonderfully, kooky brother-- dug up a torch from Big Mar's basement and set that cake afire, Baby! We loaded that sucker up with candles and let him have at it.

And it was awesome!!

Sadly, there was no welder's mask this time around, but still... Big.Time.Fun. Watching this video, you can totally tell I was schnockered on the nectar of the Gods so it was funny as Hell to me. It's a good thing I visited the bathroom beforehand because I would have totally tinkled in my pantaloons.

Clearly, we are a shining example for the young ins. :D

Life is so much more entertaining when looking through the lens of fermented grape goggles. It's a good thing we were outside... and that table was glass.

Yeah. My family rocks.

And Now For Someone Completely Different

or what?!? It's someone other than Francis or Rhett?!?

I know, right? And no, I'm not feverish either.

Okay, so turns out we actually do go to see different people occasionally. This past Tuesday night we hopped in Sabina--our car, not some fetching Czech gal-- and high-tailed it to town to watch England's David Gray rock our socks off!

Geo and I favor the intimacy of little clubs where performers scale down their shows to a one or two-person acoustic set. We love the interaction and connection with the audience that happens in these settings. It has been a looooong time since we attended a full-on, high powered, this-goes-up-to-eleven theatrical production complete with a lighting extravaganza.

The concert started with the band playing in silhouette behind a beautiful, billowy floor-to-ceiling white curtain. It was a bit like crazy, rock shadow puppet theater. Then at the critical moment the curtain was released and gracefully drifted down revealing the band playing in full tilt mode, crushing the chorus of their latest hit, "Fugitive".

Seeminly heeding the advice of How I Met Your Mother's Barney Stinson, David and company were "suited up" much like English bands of the 80s. Luckily for all of us, the semi-formal wear did nothing to prevent them all from cranking it through hit after hit after hit. I had forgotten how many of his songs I love.

The theater was packed with willing disciples cheering after every song, movement or utterance. It was kinda ridiculous. Even Mr. Gray himself seemed a little surprised by the level of adoration bestowed upon him. There was one girl in particular in front who kept standing and dancing alone. She was totally digging him. I say good for her! Shake it, Sista like you don't need the money. You can see her silhouette in this photo.

The energy level was huge. He could not stop moving his legs or head. He shook his head to and fro so hard I kept expecting to see it fly off his neck! They stuffed the two hours with all their hits and then some, giving their all. Seriously, how could you not have fun watching someone who clearly enjoys his work. Sadly there was absolutely no play with the audience, but then again that's not what this evening was about.

The encore was pretty much him alone with his gee-tar. He has such a strong, clear voice though even those quieter songs were commanding. The finale was a classic hullabaloo of power pop. It was a great night. Different for us, but well worth the sleep deprivation and copious coffee consumption to survive a 3am wake up the next morning. Oy!

Oh well. As our friend Doug always says, "you can sleep when you're dead". Although I'm certain he totally stole that from some movie.

So there you have it. Actual proof that we patronize artists other than our Free Masons buddy, Francis and my fantasy hubby, Rhett. So suck it.

I leave you with a video of "Stella (the artist)" from his last album:

In Which Francis Dunnery Returns to the Burgh And Is On Our Show

Okay, so back in January when Geo and I had our house concert, we tried to get Francis Dunnery booked at our favorite night spot, Club Cafe. They didn't have room on the schedule then, but penciled him in for Thursday, March 25th.

Last week Mr. D came back into town for a rare bar tour with an even rarer full band, The New Progressives. Part of his journey west included a spot on our little dog and pony show, Pittsburgh Today Live. (A big sloppy thanks again to our producer, Jill) He did splendidly, as I knew he would. And get this... there were at least six people at the show that night who told him they came out to see him because they saw him on the TV. I don't know what surprised me more... that viewers made the trip out or that we have, you know... actual viewers.

Anywho, afterwards I drove he and Erica to President Obama's favorite diner, Pamela's for their famous pancakes and kick-ass breakfast. We ate our fill, engaged in great conversation and fought over the check. I felt bad Geo couldn't tag along. He would have enjoyed the hell out of it.

Funny story: anyone who knows Francis Dunnery is aware of his love of swearing and particularly his ubiquitous use of the f-bomb. Being the professional he is, he refrained from swearing during the broadcast. As soon as he closed the door to my car, he let loose with a string of every curse word imaginable, let out a big sigh and declared "That's better. I haven't f*cking swore in 20 f*cking minutes!?! Right. Let's go."

Ha Ha Ha!! Ya gotta love it.

The concert was great! It has been years since we saw him perform with anyone, let alone a full band. The band was tight, the crowd was singing along and Francis was his charming self. A very good time was had by all.

So whereas last year the musical entree was Rhett Miller/Old 97's shows with a side order of Francis. This year's musical menu is leaning towards a main dish of Francis Dunnery with Rhett as a tasty dessert.

For those of you keeping score, namely moi:

Francis- 5 1/2 (the fraction being PTL)

Rhett- 3 (we're seeing two Rhett shows back to back this weekend. *swoon*)

After Saturday we've got nothing else definite on the back burning, but you never know what might come up, right?

Here are some photos from the day and a video from the evenings show. Enjoy!

Looks like Stepford Wife host's brain is going through a reboot, no.

At Club Cafe

The evening's playlist signed

The ever popular "I'm In Love"

Because Again... I'm A Twelve Year Old Boy At Heart

Okay, so this is hands down the funniest thing I have ever seen on The Daily Show. Truly a golden nugget from the vault of the greatest non-news show in television history. I miss Stephen. Enjoy!

P.S.: Don't drink anything while you're watching. Seriously.

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