9.20.2020
2.02.2020
Super Chiefs
Ho.ly. Cow.
As Kates and I lay down with the girls tonight and put them to bed, the party is only beginning in Kansas City.
For the first time in 50 years, the Kansas City Chiefs are Super Bowl champions.
It’s been a glorious day. The kind that you want to cherish every sight and sound for decades to come. We went to church the morning — Kates, Phoebe and I wore various forms of red, but Faye abstained — and I was overcome with glee when I walked into the sanctuary and saw the sea of congregants dressed in red. I had never seen anything like it at church and thought, “Wow. This is really cool.”
Our adult Sunday School class, where Kates and I enjoy conversing each week with some of our closest friends, spent most of the time reflecting on our relationships with the Chiefs through the years. Our friends Tim and Jenni, who hail from St. Louis and are diehard Cardinals fans, wore their red Cardinals pullovers, pledging that the Redbirds’ 13 world championships might provide positive vibes for the Chiefs. After Sunday school, I was restless and wanted to get home to begin watching the pregame. I didn’t want to miss a moment. I left the girls, as Kates had driven separately for her pre-worship choir rehearsal, and drove home by myself. The sun was shining brightly. The temperature was up to 52 degrees. And I drove with my windows down as the ice that has tortured us the last couple weeks melted away from roads.
But truth be told, as we left our annual Super Bowl gathering with friends near the end of the third quarter — because it’s a school night and we wanted to get the girls to bed — with the Chiefs trailing 10-20, I thought the 49ers were putting the game away. The memories weren’t going to matter, I figured.
I didn’t think that three weeks ago when the Chiefs were down by 24 against the Texans in the second quarter. But the 49ers, I thought, were too good.
When we got home, I immediately headed downstairs to the game-watching room. The plan was for Kates to put Faye to bed, and we were going to allow Phoebe to stay up to watch the rest of the game. A few minutes later, Faye was the first one down to join me on the couch. “Mommy said I could stay up,” she said in her little voice.
Kates came down a couple minutes later and we hooped and hollered as we watched the Chiefs score to trim the 49ers lead to 17-20. Finally, Phoebe joined us, and there we were together, watching the Chiefs doing what I had dreamed of all week.
They scored again. And again. And won the Super Bowl, 31-20. ... The four of us erupting in pure elation — me leaping from my chair and jumping around the room — when Damien Williams scored the final touchdown to put the game away will be my favorite lasting memory from tonight.
Just like those unbelievable Royals of 2014 and 2015, this Kansas City team could turn things around and put up points in a hurry.
Just like the Royals, watching these Chiefs conjures warm memories of my youth and the heartbreak when things didn’t go the their way.
When it comes to NFL football, no team has my loyalty more than the Packers. Spending the first 12 years of my life in Wisconsin and virtually every fall Sunday afternoon in front of the TV — often at my grandparents’ house with a bowl of popcorn in my lap — cheering on the green and gold is one of my favorite childhood memories.
But I’ve lived a life of two halves. One in Wisconsin. The other half in the Kansas City area. The 1980s in Wisconsin. The 1990s in Kansas City. The 2000s back in Wisconsin. And then back to Kansas City for the 2010s. My split personality when it comes to rooting for my “hometown” teams is well-documented.
And the Packers were horrible in the 1980s. So imagine what it was like for me moving to Kansas City at a time when the Marty Schottenheimer-led Chiefs were on the rise, with guys like Derrick Thomas, Neil Smith, and Christian Okoye.
While a visit to Lambeau Field for a Packers game remains elusive for me, the one and only NFL game I’ve ever attended was a Chiefs game — I believe it was against the New Orleans Saints in 1991 — as part of a group outing with my dad’s employer. It was a warm fall day early in the season, and we sat near the top of Arrowhead Stadium. Steve DeBerg was the Chiefs quarterback then.
(I don’t count this, but I also attended a Chiefs game against the Buffalo Bills in 1997. It wasn’t as a fan because I went as a concession worker for a fundraiser with a student group at my college. I spent the first half of the game marching up and down the aisles of Arrowhead Stadium with a cart of water bottles strapped around my shoulders, serving any fan who flagged me down. I got to keep the $20 or so that I made in tips. As well as the Chiefs hat that went with my uniform. Our bus left after halftime. And the thing I remember more than anything about that day is how awful my back and shoulders felt afterward, and how I went to bed as soon as I returned to my dorm room later that afternoon. Back to 1991 ...)
Suddenly, my family was watching the Chiefs on Sunday afternoons. I remember the fun and excitement of watching them beat the Raiders in the first round of the playoffs in January of 1992 — with my mom in our house that was so new it had that new-carpet smell.
Things got really exciting in Kansas City, of course, in 1993 when the Chiefs somehow swung a deal and snagged the legendary Joe Montana after the 49ers had kicked him to the curb because of what they assumed was a career-ending injury, a la Peyton Manning to the Denver Broncos. To make things even more magical, the Chiefs added a legendary running back by getting Marcus Allen from the Raiders. It was unbelievable, and the Chiefs seemed destined for the Super Bowl that season. One of my favorite stories to tell from that time is of a Sunday morning when our pastor opened the church service by sharing with the congregation that a member told him he needed to keep the sermon short that day “because Pastor Joe preaches at noon.” I remember the thrill of the Chiefs beating the Steelers in overtime in the first round at Arrowhead and coming from behind to stun the Oilers in the second round in Houston, and the heartbreaking loss to the Bills — who went on to lose the last of their four straight Super Bowl losses — in the AFC Championship game. (Full disclosure, I loved those Buffalo Bills teams, too, but that’s another lengthy post.)
The Chiefs weren’t the same the next year when injuries finally did get the best of Montana. ... And the Packers gradually drew my family back to them with some kid named Brett Favre. The Chiefs were an afterthought when the Packers were going to Super Bowls in 1997 and 1998.
My memories of following the Chiefs during the late 90s and the remainder of my college years amount to the revolving door of quarterbacks, the shock of losing Derrick Thomas, and my roommate — a diehard fan — pounding the table or throwing things when the team erred.
Graduating from college, my first real job and my soon-to-be wife pulled me back to Wisconsin. I lost touch with the Chiefs as their fast starts to the regular seasons always seemed to fade when the playoffs came around. And the Packers still had Brett Favre.
Not much had changed for the Chiefs when we relocated to The ‘Ville in 2010. Except for the fact that the Packers had transitioned to Aaron Rodgers, and here we were in 2011 celebrating another Super Bowl championship for Green Bay.
But there was a sense that maybe, just maybe, Kansas City had something brewing with Andy Reid. Following the Packers still occupies my time during the regular season, but I’ve made a point in recent years to tune into the Chiefs’ playoff games, hoping that maybe one of these years they’d bring the Lombardi Trophy back to Kansas City, because now they have Patrick Mahomes. ...
Tonight they finally did.
Good reads ...
The sight of my news feed bursting with stories and my social media feeds flooded photos of with friends celebrating the big win has been priceless. Here is just a sampling of the stuff that caught my eyes ...
As Kates and I lay down with the girls tonight and put them to bed, the party is only beginning in Kansas City.
For the first time in 50 years, the Kansas City Chiefs are Super Bowl champions.
It’s been a glorious day. The kind that you want to cherish every sight and sound for decades to come. We went to church the morning — Kates, Phoebe and I wore various forms of red, but Faye abstained — and I was overcome with glee when I walked into the sanctuary and saw the sea of congregants dressed in red. I had never seen anything like it at church and thought, “Wow. This is really cool.”
Our adult Sunday School class, where Kates and I enjoy conversing each week with some of our closest friends, spent most of the time reflecting on our relationships with the Chiefs through the years. Our friends Tim and Jenni, who hail from St. Louis and are diehard Cardinals fans, wore their red Cardinals pullovers, pledging that the Redbirds’ 13 world championships might provide positive vibes for the Chiefs. After Sunday school, I was restless and wanted to get home to begin watching the pregame. I didn’t want to miss a moment. I left the girls, as Kates had driven separately for her pre-worship choir rehearsal, and drove home by myself. The sun was shining brightly. The temperature was up to 52 degrees. And I drove with my windows down as the ice that has tortured us the last couple weeks melted away from roads.
But truth be told, as we left our annual Super Bowl gathering with friends near the end of the third quarter — because it’s a school night and we wanted to get the girls to bed — with the Chiefs trailing 10-20, I thought the 49ers were putting the game away. The memories weren’t going to matter, I figured.
I didn’t think that three weeks ago when the Chiefs were down by 24 against the Texans in the second quarter. But the 49ers, I thought, were too good.
When we got home, I immediately headed downstairs to the game-watching room. The plan was for Kates to put Faye to bed, and we were going to allow Phoebe to stay up to watch the rest of the game. A few minutes later, Faye was the first one down to join me on the couch. “Mommy said I could stay up,” she said in her little voice.
Kates came down a couple minutes later and we hooped and hollered as we watched the Chiefs score to trim the 49ers lead to 17-20. Finally, Phoebe joined us, and there we were together, watching the Chiefs doing what I had dreamed of all week.
They scored again. And again. And won the Super Bowl, 31-20. ... The four of us erupting in pure elation — me leaping from my chair and jumping around the room — when Damien Williams scored the final touchdown to put the game away will be my favorite lasting memory from tonight.
Just like those unbelievable Royals of 2014 and 2015, this Kansas City team could turn things around and put up points in a hurry.
Just like the Royals, watching these Chiefs conjures warm memories of my youth and the heartbreak when things didn’t go the their way.
When it comes to NFL football, no team has my loyalty more than the Packers. Spending the first 12 years of my life in Wisconsin and virtually every fall Sunday afternoon in front of the TV — often at my grandparents’ house with a bowl of popcorn in my lap — cheering on the green and gold is one of my favorite childhood memories.
But I’ve lived a life of two halves. One in Wisconsin. The other half in the Kansas City area. The 1980s in Wisconsin. The 1990s in Kansas City. The 2000s back in Wisconsin. And then back to Kansas City for the 2010s. My split personality when it comes to rooting for my “hometown” teams is well-documented.
And the Packers were horrible in the 1980s. So imagine what it was like for me moving to Kansas City at a time when the Marty Schottenheimer-led Chiefs were on the rise, with guys like Derrick Thomas, Neil Smith, and Christian Okoye.
While a visit to Lambeau Field for a Packers game remains elusive for me, the one and only NFL game I’ve ever attended was a Chiefs game — I believe it was against the New Orleans Saints in 1991 — as part of a group outing with my dad’s employer. It was a warm fall day early in the season, and we sat near the top of Arrowhead Stadium. Steve DeBerg was the Chiefs quarterback then.
(I don’t count this, but I also attended a Chiefs game against the Buffalo Bills in 1997. It wasn’t as a fan because I went as a concession worker for a fundraiser with a student group at my college. I spent the first half of the game marching up and down the aisles of Arrowhead Stadium with a cart of water bottles strapped around my shoulders, serving any fan who flagged me down. I got to keep the $20 or so that I made in tips. As well as the Chiefs hat that went with my uniform. Our bus left after halftime. And the thing I remember more than anything about that day is how awful my back and shoulders felt afterward, and how I went to bed as soon as I returned to my dorm room later that afternoon. Back to 1991 ...)
Suddenly, my family was watching the Chiefs on Sunday afternoons. I remember the fun and excitement of watching them beat the Raiders in the first round of the playoffs in January of 1992 — with my mom in our house that was so new it had that new-carpet smell.
Things got really exciting in Kansas City, of course, in 1993 when the Chiefs somehow swung a deal and snagged the legendary Joe Montana after the 49ers had kicked him to the curb because of what they assumed was a career-ending injury, a la Peyton Manning to the Denver Broncos. To make things even more magical, the Chiefs added a legendary running back by getting Marcus Allen from the Raiders. It was unbelievable, and the Chiefs seemed destined for the Super Bowl that season. One of my favorite stories to tell from that time is of a Sunday morning when our pastor opened the church service by sharing with the congregation that a member told him he needed to keep the sermon short that day “because Pastor Joe preaches at noon.” I remember the thrill of the Chiefs beating the Steelers in overtime in the first round at Arrowhead and coming from behind to stun the Oilers in the second round in Houston, and the heartbreaking loss to the Bills — who went on to lose the last of their four straight Super Bowl losses — in the AFC Championship game. (Full disclosure, I loved those Buffalo Bills teams, too, but that’s another lengthy post.)
The Chiefs weren’t the same the next year when injuries finally did get the best of Montana. ... And the Packers gradually drew my family back to them with some kid named Brett Favre. The Chiefs were an afterthought when the Packers were going to Super Bowls in 1997 and 1998.
My memories of following the Chiefs during the late 90s and the remainder of my college years amount to the revolving door of quarterbacks, the shock of losing Derrick Thomas, and my roommate — a diehard fan — pounding the table or throwing things when the team erred.
Graduating from college, my first real job and my soon-to-be wife pulled me back to Wisconsin. I lost touch with the Chiefs as their fast starts to the regular seasons always seemed to fade when the playoffs came around. And the Packers still had Brett Favre.
Not much had changed for the Chiefs when we relocated to The ‘Ville in 2010. Except for the fact that the Packers had transitioned to Aaron Rodgers, and here we were in 2011 celebrating another Super Bowl championship for Green Bay.
But there was a sense that maybe, just maybe, Kansas City had something brewing with Andy Reid. Following the Packers still occupies my time during the regular season, but I’ve made a point in recent years to tune into the Chiefs’ playoff games, hoping that maybe one of these years they’d bring the Lombardi Trophy back to Kansas City, because now they have Patrick Mahomes. ...
Tonight they finally did.
Good reads ...
The sight of my news feed bursting with stories and my social media feeds flooded photos of with friends celebrating the big win has been priceless. Here is just a sampling of the stuff that caught my eyes ...
- The Forever Cycle of Chiefs Fandom Has Been Broken
- From Dawson to Mahomes—One Family’s 53-Year Chiefs Journey
- Kingdom Comeback: The Chiefs’ Seven-Year Journey to a Super Bowl Title
- Super Bowl celebration in Kansas City was so big it showed up on weather radar
- Sammy Watkins credits Packers receiver with assist on crucial Super Bowl catch: 'Shout out to Davante Adams'
- How the Chiefs Beat the 49ers to Win the Super Bowl
- The Onion had a few good zingers tonight. My favorite headlines: Victorious Patrick Mahomes Thanks Bears For Drafting Mitchell Trubisky and Chiefs Finally Overcome Curse Of Not Being Good For A Very Long Time
- Before Patrick Mahomes Was a Headliner, the Chiefs Could See He’d Be a Star
1.30.2020
Democracy or not
This.
After two and half centuries of our nation's history, it's come to this:
— Adam Schiff (@RepAdamSchiff) January 31, 2020
The President's lawyers argue on the Senate floor that he can withhold aid, coerce an ally, and try to cheat in an election,
And there's nothing we can do about it.
Our Founders would be aghast. pic.twitter.com/3uHFnaY44q
12.29.2019
How Taylor Swift Writes a Love Song
I'm sitting at my in-laws amid our annual family holiday tour of southern Wisconsin during the final days of the decade. We're watching CBS "Sunday Morning," which is recapping the best and worst of the last 10 years. Oh, what a decade it's been, considering he way we started it.
Maybe some day I'll get to writing about it. These days the inspiration that was so pulsating for this blog the decade before is fleeting today. Crowded out by other projects that are more important to me now. Researching my family's ancestry. Writing a book. Pursuing a doctorate degree -- to name a few.
And yet, I still hold on to hundreds of notes, links and unfinished Word files, thinking, "Some day ... "
But I found something today, that I couldn't help but share here ...
We love Taylor Swift in our house, and I've loved "Lover" almost since the first time I heard it. It's a quintessential love song and, arguably, one of Taylor's best tracks. I've been enthralled with every performance of it since -- from "Saturday Night Live" to her "Tiny Desk Concert" to her Artist of the Decade performance at the American Music Awards.
So it brought a smile to start my day as I laid in bed, scrolling through my morning emails, and caught The New York Times' interview with Taylor and team in this episode of "Diary of a Song."
Maybe some day I'll get to writing about it. These days the inspiration that was so pulsating for this blog the decade before is fleeting today. Crowded out by other projects that are more important to me now. Researching my family's ancestry. Writing a book. Pursuing a doctorate degree -- to name a few.
And yet, I still hold on to hundreds of notes, links and unfinished Word files, thinking, "Some day ... "
But I found something today, that I couldn't help but share here ...
We love Taylor Swift in our house, and I've loved "Lover" almost since the first time I heard it. It's a quintessential love song and, arguably, one of Taylor's best tracks. I've been enthralled with every performance of it since -- from "Saturday Night Live" to her "Tiny Desk Concert" to her Artist of the Decade performance at the American Music Awards.
So it brought a smile to start my day as I laid in bed, scrolling through my morning emails, and caught The New York Times' interview with Taylor and team in this episode of "Diary of a Song."
5.09.2019
Dysfunction in Packerland
What is happening in Green Bay!?
Last month it was Bleacher Report's piece on the unraveling of Aaron Rodgers and Mike McCarthy ...
Now the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel is out with a critical look at the Packers' front office ...
These aren't the Packers I've rooted so hard for over the years, and I'm afraid we've seen the beginning of the end of what has been a golden era.
Last month it was Bleacher Report's piece on the unraveling of Aaron Rodgers and Mike McCarthy ...
Now the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel is out with a critical look at the Packers' front office ...
These aren't the Packers I've rooted so hard for over the years, and I'm afraid we've seen the beginning of the end of what has been a golden era.
5.08.2019
Jimmy Kimmel tricks Tom Brady into vandalizing Matt Damon's house
Poor Matt Damon. Jimmy, why d'you have to be so mean?
And I hadn't realized how tall Tom Brady is.
Enjoy.
And I hadn't realized how tall Tom Brady is.
Enjoy.
4.25.2019
An Onion commentary from the Culver’s chairman and co-founder
After a spending the Easter weekend in Wisconsin and eating Culver's on two consecutive nights, I found today's Onion commentary amusing and funny ...
2.27.2019
Taylor Swift showed up to an engagement party and serenaded the couple
Fun read. Taylor rocks.
My incredible man @alexandergold asked me to marry him, surprised me with an engagement party with friends and my family who flew in to be there, and then @taylorswift13 surprised me with an incredible serenade. I'm on cloud 9. BRB. pic.twitter.com/aYntoMRM4W— Ross Girard (@rossgirard) February 27, 2019
11.14.2018
A night with Brian Wilson
When it comes to music, The Beach Boys were my first love.
One of my fondest childhood memories is coming home from church on Sunday mornings and begging my dad to put on his “Beach Boys Concert” record; I would sing and dance to it on the brick ledge of our fireplace as if it was my stage while Mom and Dad made lunch in the kitchen. Later my music collection began with my own copy of “Beach Boys Concert” few other Beach Boys compilations on cassette tapes. I still think “Fun, Fun, Fun,” “God Only Knows,” “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and “Good Vibrations” are four of the greatest songs ever recorded.
Not long after Kates and I started dating, we were driving somewhere when “Fun, Fun, Fun” came on the radio. Without hesitation, I sang it with gusto – every word – and I’ll never forget the way Kates laughed. The opening verse is one of my all-time favorites ...
And tonight I saw it all on a stage as Brian Wilson performed with Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin at the Kauffman Center. The nostalgia flowed and my smile was wide.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The Kauffman Center is, hands down, my favorite concert venue in Kansas City these days. The performance spaces are gorgeous and there are no bad seats.
The staff also treats you like royalty.
Tonight’s show was in the Muriel Kauffman Theatre, and my seat was in the lowest section closest to the stage. In row seven.
“You’re in for a good night,” the usher told me as I passed through the door to the section. “You’re lucky to be here.”
The theatre’s sound system was playing orchestral versions of Beach Boys songs, and it sounded beautiful. So I Shazam’d it … “The Hollyridge Strings Play The Beach Boys Song Book.” Album downloaded. Volumes 1 and 2. I listened to them multiple times today, and it is a fantastic collection.
A few minutes after I’d settled into my seat, a couple arrived and took their seats in front of me. The young man, who appeared in his late 20s or early 30s, quickly asked a man sitting next to me to take a picture of him and his girlfriend. “I want to make my dad jealous,” he said. “This is the music I was raised on.”
True that, dude.
The opening act, Beat Root Revival, was outstanding. From their website …
But that sigh was undeserved. Beat Root Revival had a sound that any comparison doesn’t do justice. The closest I can come up with is The Civil Wars with a hint of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham on steroids. They mixed hard rocking tunes - that featured Ben wailing into his mic – very much like Buckingham – and sawing up and down a guitar as Andrea flapped her hand on an Irish drum, with softer, tender ballads. They covered Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” and their finale mixed “Come Together” with the guitar riff of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir.” Check 'em out ...
After an intermission, it was time for Brian Wilson and his band.
Let’s be honest. Wilson’s past drug use and disconnect are well-documented. I went to the show not knowing what to expect and hopeful that I could still be wowed by him performing. It became painfully obvious that wasn’t going to happen as he appeared on the stage with a crew member who helped Brian shuffle to his piano at center stage. His hair was a ghostly white, his face looked pale and he sat slouched back in his chair for much of the night.
In trying to learn more about his touring band tonight, I stumbled on this review published last year by The Guardian that parallels my impressions …
But, oh, when his all-star band of multi-instrumentalists swooped in with their vocals and the classic Beach Boys harmonies came together, it was magic.
Toward the end of the show, when the band members were being introduced, Paul Von Mertens, who played saxophone, flute and harmonica, introduced Wilson as “The man who brings us together with his soul, his heart and his music.” It was a perfect summary of the show, which felt a lot like a tribute band that just happened to feature Wilson, Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin as the special guests. Truly, the band did the heavy lifting all night long and made the show enjoyable.
Wilson was strongest and in vintage form on “Dance, Dance, Dance,” but on other songs he dropped lyrics and slurred words. He couldn’t hold the notes as he sang “God Only Knows” and, frankly, he sounded like a Muppet singing the song.
Rob Bonfiglio, aka Carnie Wilson’s husband and thus Brian’s son-in-law, took Wilson’s signature falsetto parts, most notably on “Don’t Worry Baby” and “Surfer Girl.”
Meanwhile, Al Jardine – who, after all, may be my favorite of all the Beach Boys vocalists – picked up the lead vocals on the songs in the set that Mike Love made famous. And Blondie commanded the stage midway through the show as the band touched on the Beach Boys’ foray into more progressive music during the 1970s. “Feel Flows,” one of my favorites from that era, was especially good, and an extended “Wild Honey” ended as a raucous jam session. Blondie also sang a soaring “Sail on, Sailor.”
They rolled out all the hits – and some great surprises I never expected to hear, too, including “Little Honda,” “Salt Lake City” and “All Summer Long.” The latter two sounded especially good with all of the instrumentation and vocals.
Eventually the band ran through the highlights from “Pet Sounds” and delighted the crowd with “Good Vibrations.”
Quickly after the last note of “Good Vibrations,” the man who helped Wilson onto the stage at the start of the show reappeared and whisked Brian off the stage. The rest of the band put down their instruments and I thought for sure that was the end of it.
But the house lights didn’t come on, and soon Von Mertens returned to stage to address the crowd and lead a very cool introduction of each of the band members. As each member was introduced, the guys who had retaken their places on the stage played a few bars of a classic rock song. The segment started with the drummer and the bass player doing Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side,” and the arrangements became fuller as more band members came back to the stage, eventually ending with takes on Archie Bell and The Drells’ “Tighten Up” and The Beatles’ “I Feel Fine.” It turned out several of the band members appeared in “Love and Mercy,” the fantastic Brian Wilson bio film, as studio musicians; here’s a good read about how the band came together.
By accident, I found a video of the introductions from one of Wilson’s shows last year. Some of the band members and songs are different, but it captures the segment well.
The audience had been sitting throughout the night, but Wilson’s return to the stage for the encore drew a standing ovation and we stayed standing as the band finished off the show with another run of Beach Boys hits, including a good “Help Me, Rhonda,” Al Jardine’s signature song, which I had eagerly anticipated all night.
(Update 11.16.2018: Wilson and his band played St. Louis last night. This review of the show reads as though it could have been written about the Kansas City show I saw as well.)
The setlist:
1. California Girls
2. Dance, Dance, Dance
3. I Get Around
4. Shut Down
5. Little Deuce Coup
6. Little Honda
7. Surfer Girl
8. Salt Lake City
9. Wake the World
10. California Saga: California
11. Don’t Worry, Baby
12. Darlin’
13. Feel Flows
14. Wild Honey
15. Sail On sailor
16. Do It Again
17. Wouldn’t It Be Nice
18. Sloop John B
19. God Only Knows
20. Good Vibrations
Encore
21. All Summer Long
22. Help Me Rhonda
23. Barbara Ann
24. Surfin’ USA
25. Fun, Fun, Fun
26. Love and Mercy
One of my fondest childhood memories is coming home from church on Sunday mornings and begging my dad to put on his “Beach Boys Concert” record; I would sing and dance to it on the brick ledge of our fireplace as if it was my stage while Mom and Dad made lunch in the kitchen. Later my music collection began with my own copy of “Beach Boys Concert” few other Beach Boys compilations on cassette tapes. I still think “Fun, Fun, Fun,” “God Only Knows,” “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and “Good Vibrations” are four of the greatest songs ever recorded.
Not long after Kates and I started dating, we were driving somewhere when “Fun, Fun, Fun” came on the radio. Without hesitation, I sang it with gusto – every word – and I’ll never forget the way Kates laughed. The opening verse is one of my all-time favorites ...
Well she got her daddy's carLater, the song became a staple of Phoebe’s rock ‘n’ roll playlist. One day when she was little, she asked me, “Daddy, can you play the song about the girl who goes to the library?”
And she cruised through the hamburger stand now
Seems she forgot all about the library
Like she told her old man now
And with the radio blasting
Goes cruising just as fast as she can now
And tonight I saw it all on a stage as Brian Wilson performed with Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin at the Kauffman Center. The nostalgia flowed and my smile was wide.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The Kauffman Center is, hands down, my favorite concert venue in Kansas City these days. The performance spaces are gorgeous and there are no bad seats.
The staff also treats you like royalty.
Tonight’s show was in the Muriel Kauffman Theatre, and my seat was in the lowest section closest to the stage. In row seven.
“You’re in for a good night,” the usher told me as I passed through the door to the section. “You’re lucky to be here.”
The theatre’s sound system was playing orchestral versions of Beach Boys songs, and it sounded beautiful. So I Shazam’d it … “The Hollyridge Strings Play The Beach Boys Song Book.” Album downloaded. Volumes 1 and 2. I listened to them multiple times today, and it is a fantastic collection.
A few minutes after I’d settled into my seat, a couple arrived and took their seats in front of me. The young man, who appeared in his late 20s or early 30s, quickly asked a man sitting next to me to take a picture of him and his girlfriend. “I want to make my dad jealous,” he said. “This is the music I was raised on.”
True that, dude.
The opening act, Beat Root Revival, was outstanding. From their website …
Beat Root Revival are a multi-instrumentalist roots duo, combining elements of Folk, Blues, Country and Rock n Roll to create a foot stomping, melodic sound, made up of power house harmonic vocalists Andrea Magee and Ben Jones.The duo was effusive with their praise of Brian Wilson and the opportunity to tour with him. In a funny moment as they prepared to close their set, Ben told the crowd he needed to address “the elephant in the room,” and mimicked the long sigh many of us in the audience, me included, probably let out upon learning there would be an opening act. He admitted he would have done the same thing and thanked us for being a gracious audience.
But that sigh was undeserved. Beat Root Revival had a sound that any comparison doesn’t do justice. The closest I can come up with is The Civil Wars with a hint of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham on steroids. They mixed hard rocking tunes - that featured Ben wailing into his mic – very much like Buckingham – and sawing up and down a guitar as Andrea flapped her hand on an Irish drum, with softer, tender ballads. They covered Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” and their finale mixed “Come Together” with the guitar riff of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir.” Check 'em out ...
After an intermission, it was time for Brian Wilson and his band.
Let’s be honest. Wilson’s past drug use and disconnect are well-documented. I went to the show not knowing what to expect and hopeful that I could still be wowed by him performing. It became painfully obvious that wasn’t going to happen as he appeared on the stage with a crew member who helped Brian shuffle to his piano at center stage. His hair was a ghostly white, his face looked pale and he sat slouched back in his chair for much of the night.
In trying to learn more about his touring band tonight, I stumbled on this review published last year by The Guardian that parallels my impressions …
Fans who note how uncomfortable Wilson frequently looks on stage have wondered aloud whether he should be there at all, let alone performing dozens of gigs a year in his mid-70s. The spectre of an artist who’s milking it – or a larger organisation that’s manipulating a vulnerable man in order to milk it – has been both invoked and hotly denied.At best, Wilson appeared as though he was just along for the ride. At times he appeared lost and confused. Sometimes he appeared tired. Other times he appeared to be just taking it all in, eyes wandering around the theater as if he was thinking, This is my music – and, hey, it’s pretty good.
But, oh, when his all-star band of multi-instrumentalists swooped in with their vocals and the classic Beach Boys harmonies came together, it was magic.
Toward the end of the show, when the band members were being introduced, Paul Von Mertens, who played saxophone, flute and harmonica, introduced Wilson as “The man who brings us together with his soul, his heart and his music.” It was a perfect summary of the show, which felt a lot like a tribute band that just happened to feature Wilson, Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin as the special guests. Truly, the band did the heavy lifting all night long and made the show enjoyable.
Wilson was strongest and in vintage form on “Dance, Dance, Dance,” but on other songs he dropped lyrics and slurred words. He couldn’t hold the notes as he sang “God Only Knows” and, frankly, he sounded like a Muppet singing the song.
Rob Bonfiglio, aka Carnie Wilson’s husband and thus Brian’s son-in-law, took Wilson’s signature falsetto parts, most notably on “Don’t Worry Baby” and “Surfer Girl.”
Meanwhile, Al Jardine – who, after all, may be my favorite of all the Beach Boys vocalists – picked up the lead vocals on the songs in the set that Mike Love made famous. And Blondie commanded the stage midway through the show as the band touched on the Beach Boys’ foray into more progressive music during the 1970s. “Feel Flows,” one of my favorites from that era, was especially good, and an extended “Wild Honey” ended as a raucous jam session. Blondie also sang a soaring “Sail on, Sailor.”
They rolled out all the hits – and some great surprises I never expected to hear, too, including “Little Honda,” “Salt Lake City” and “All Summer Long.” The latter two sounded especially good with all of the instrumentation and vocals.
Eventually the band ran through the highlights from “Pet Sounds” and delighted the crowd with “Good Vibrations.”
Quickly after the last note of “Good Vibrations,” the man who helped Wilson onto the stage at the start of the show reappeared and whisked Brian off the stage. The rest of the band put down their instruments and I thought for sure that was the end of it.
But the house lights didn’t come on, and soon Von Mertens returned to stage to address the crowd and lead a very cool introduction of each of the band members. As each member was introduced, the guys who had retaken their places on the stage played a few bars of a classic rock song. The segment started with the drummer and the bass player doing Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side,” and the arrangements became fuller as more band members came back to the stage, eventually ending with takes on Archie Bell and The Drells’ “Tighten Up” and The Beatles’ “I Feel Fine.” It turned out several of the band members appeared in “Love and Mercy,” the fantastic Brian Wilson bio film, as studio musicians; here’s a good read about how the band came together.
By accident, I found a video of the introductions from one of Wilson’s shows last year. Some of the band members and songs are different, but it captures the segment well.
The audience had been sitting throughout the night, but Wilson’s return to the stage for the encore drew a standing ovation and we stayed standing as the band finished off the show with another run of Beach Boys hits, including a good “Help Me, Rhonda,” Al Jardine’s signature song, which I had eagerly anticipated all night.
(Update 11.16.2018: Wilson and his band played St. Louis last night. This review of the show reads as though it could have been written about the Kansas City show I saw as well.)
The setlist:
1. California Girls
2. Dance, Dance, Dance
3. I Get Around
4. Shut Down
5. Little Deuce Coup
6. Little Honda
7. Surfer Girl
8. Salt Lake City
9. Wake the World
10. California Saga: California
11. Don’t Worry, Baby
12. Darlin’
13. Feel Flows
14. Wild Honey
15. Sail On sailor
16. Do It Again
17. Wouldn’t It Be Nice
18. Sloop John B
19. God Only Knows
20. Good Vibrations
Encore
21. All Summer Long
22. Help Me Rhonda
23. Barbara Ann
24. Surfin’ USA
25. Fun, Fun, Fun
26. Love and Mercy
11.03.2018
Jimmy Kimmel’s ‘I Told My Kids I Ate All Their Halloween Candy’ video is back for 2018
I had been looking for it this week. So it was with great interest that I watched this year's edition of Jimmy Kimmel annual stunt, “I Told My Kids I Ate All Their Halloween Candy.”
This year's video actually features a lot of sweet kids who take the news in stride -- which may restore your faith in the idea that not all of this generation's children are bratty snobs who stomp their feet or throw squealing tantrums when something doesn't go their way. If only are nation's leaders would take that cue.
Conscious discipline works.
Enjoy the video.
This year's video actually features a lot of sweet kids who take the news in stride -- which may restore your faith in the idea that not all of this generation's children are bratty snobs who stomp their feet or throw squealing tantrums when something doesn't go their way. If only are nation's leaders would take that cue.
Conscious discipline works.
Enjoy the video.
10.21.2018
Family of the Year
My current music obsession: Family of the Year.
And they've been under my nose all this time.
Sure, I'd heard of them. I know they're a popular indie rock band. "Living On Love" has been a staple in my iTunes library for years.
I've had a few other Family songs in my library, too, but for some reason I never explored the band's catalog further.
Then "Saturday Night Live" aired a sketch a couple weeks ago that included "Hero" at the end. I used Shazam to identify the track and it came up with "Hero."
It's a beautiful song, and I was hooked. I downloaded their entire library. And I haven't been able to turn them off since.
Here's the band playing a couple of my favorites live ...
And they've been under my nose all this time.
Sure, I'd heard of them. I know they're a popular indie rock band. "Living On Love" has been a staple in my iTunes library for years.
I've had a few other Family songs in my library, too, but for some reason I never explored the band's catalog further.
Then "Saturday Night Live" aired a sketch a couple weeks ago that included "Hero" at the end. I used Shazam to identify the track and it came up with "Hero."
It's a beautiful song, and I was hooked. I downloaded their entire library. And I haven't been able to turn them off since.
Here's the band playing a couple of my favorites live ...
9.19.2018
How Maya Rudolph Became the Master of Impressions
This beautiful piece in The New York Times Magazine last weekend about Maya Rudolph is one of the best things I've read in a while.
Reading and picturing this scene had me laughing out loud ...
Reading and picturing this scene had me laughing out loud ...
She was telling the story of the time she was bitten by a black-widow spider while getting a massage on a girls’ vacation that many comedy fans might commit real-life murder to attend, with her “Saturday Night Live” friends Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Rachel Dratch and Ana Gasteyer and the writers Paula Pell and Emily Spivey. Rudolph was doing an impression of Gasteyer the moment Rudolph explained to her that she was possibly about to die.Her Gasteyer was a 120 percent concentration: angular head movements; precise intentional blinks; a modulated operatic voice — classic Gasteyer, but swirled with the essential oils of her performance as a tightly wound 1990s Martha Stewart. Rudolph’s account of the fiasco was bursting with rollicking impressions — Poehler taking charge with peppy fortitude; Dratch trying to discreetly escape to a shower — but to print the transcript would be a disservice to Rudolph, because the transcript is simply not funny. The element that brings tears of laughter to your eyes is not the words themselves, but the curious, thrilling sensation of witnessing other people’s faces and voices emerge from Rudolph’s own.
And the reflection of her mother's death and childhood is heart-wrenching. I had no idea who her mother was until I read this, but I most definitely know “Lovin’ You.” After reading this, I pulled up the song and listened. My heart melted at the sound of Riperton singing “Maya, Maya, Maya” at the end of the track.
I can hardly wait to give “Forever,” her new series with Fred Armisen a try.
9.09.2018
A night with Taylor Swift
So I took Phoebe to see Taylor Swift perform at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City last night.
Taylor Swift. One of the biggest pop stars on the planet. I'm still having trouble believing it.
Phoebe has pretty much grown up with her music playing around our house – since the days of the “Love Song” music video rolling on our TV, back when Kates and I spent our Saturday mornings watching the VH1 countdown and we couldn’t name a single show on the Disney Channel. Oh, how times have changed, but that’s another post.
We own all of her albums and it’s no wonder Phoebe has grown to admire her music so much. Taylor is as wholesome as pop stars come these days, and I can’t think of another one I’d rather have Phoebe admire.
Fast forward to a year ago when the news broke that Taylor was unleashing a tour to promote her new “Reputation” album and coming to Kansas City. I started talking with Kates about the idea of taking Phoebe. Somehow I got a pair of tickets for us last December – we decided Faye wasn’t old enough for a big-time concert and Kates was ok with not going – and we presented them to Phoebe for her birthday in the form of a printed Ticketmaster confirmation. She opened the envelope, read the paper and let out a happy scream as she flopped into the couch.
And I’m not gonna lie. I was pretty darn excited to see Miss Taylor myself.
After months of waiting, the day of the concert finally came. As everyone was waking up yesterday, I went across the hall to Phoebe’s room and jumped on her as she lay in it. “Today’s the big day!” I shouted as I shook her and rocked her bed excitedly.
It turned out to be a beautiful night for an outdoor concert with an overcast sky and temperatures in the high 60s – which was a relief, considering it’s been raining nearly non-stop for the last two weeks. The grass, which had been on life support since late June because we had barely seen a drop of rain since then, is now a lush green, and I’ve mowed our lawn more times in the last three weeks – three times – than I did all of the month of July and for most of August combined.
A preview from the local news ...
With the concert set to start at 7, we left the house a little after 4 in the afternoon. I offered to take Phoebe somewhere for dinner, and she picked the McAlister’s Deli in St. Joseph, which she loves. It was a good halfway stop between The ‘Ville and Kansas City.
We arrived at the stadium complex around 6:50 and joined the parade of vehicles moving into the parking lot. We could hear the opening act, Charli XCX, on the stage inside Arrowhead as we drove through the parking lot. Finally, we got parked and started our walk to the stadium.
The place was a madhouse. But in a good way. … Taylor announced to the crowd shortly after she took the stage that last night’s show broke the attendance record for a concert at Arrowhead Stadium, and the number published this morning had it at 58,611 – and considering Arrowhead is the largest venue in Kansas City, that could mean it was the biggest in Kansas City history, right? The crowd was loaded with young couples and parents with tweens in tow, which relieved any doubts I was having about whether bringing Phoebe to a Taylor Swift stadium concert was the right thing to do. It only got better from there. The crowd was excellent and I didn’t observe an ounce of rudeness the entire night. A breath of fresh air.
Phoebe was all smiles and barely containing her excitement as we walked the ramp up to our seats. We were in the upper deck in a corner of one of the end zones. Charli XCX was ending her set with “Fancy” as we got to our seats around 7:30, and – although I would have liked hearing “Boom Clap” – I didn't mind that we missed her.
Around 7:45, the second act, Camila Cabello, took the stage. When we sat down, I couldn’t have told you what songs she was known for. When I asked her, Phoebe said she knew a couple of her songs and knew she was formerly with Fifth Harmony. … I was soon pleasantly surprised by how many of Cabello’s songs I did recognize. Wearing a Kansas City Chiefs jersey, she opened with “Never Be the Same,” which has been all over the radio this summer. Plus, she worked in “Bad Things,” a Machine Gun Kelly song on which she sings an altered chorus of Fastball’s “Out of my Head,” and she ended with “Havana,” another popular radio tune this summer. I also really liked “Inside Out.”
On the downside, Cabello appeared as nothing more than a speck on the stage from where we were seated. Huge arena and stadium shows have never been my thing and I much prefer the club and small theaters that most of my favorite bands tend to play. I like the intimacy of those environments and the feeling that you’re so close to the stage that you could shake the band members’ hands and you can really appreciate the musicianship playing out before your eyes. … Last night, our seats felt so far away that we had to rely heavily on the video screens, and I had doubts about whether Cabello was actually singing or going through the motions to a recorded track.
All of those thoughts were erased when Taylor took the stage.
During the intermission, Phoebe and I enjoyed watching the crowd and chatting about what we could expect during Taylor’s show. She was curious about the planning that goes into concerts in general and the stage construction, and I enjoyed explaining the production elements to her. After all, we’ve taken Phoebe to Summerfest a few times and some shows at the university, but she had never experienced a production even remotely close to the one we saw last night.
The main stage was shaped like an X with two huge panels at the back of it, each angled slightly toward the sides of the stadium and a giant skeleton of steel towers behind them. Red lights blinked at the top of the towers for extra effect. Adding to my own curiosity about the setup, two smaller stages were stationed at each corner of the end zone in front of us – which suggested additional performance space for Taylor, but I couldn’t figure out how she was going to get there if my suspicion was true …
The time passed quickly. The sky darkened fast and at around 8:30, the stadium lights went out.
Suddenly the stage came alive with bright lights and thumping bass. The two huge panels slid apart at the center of the stage, and out came Taylor, eyeing up the crowd and busting out “… Ready for it?” the opening track from “Reputation.”
She performed all but one of the 15 tracks from “Reputation” and effortlessly weaved in her hits and fan favorites throughout her two-hour show in the form of medleys and mashups. Taylor and a collection of dancers paraded up and down the X all night long as the musicians rocked their instruments from the second story of the steel structure.
The show was everything I had hoped for and more – even when things on stage weren’t exactly perfect – with not a curse word uttered throughout. Early in the show, Taylor was pacing the stage and talking to the crowd when she realized her mic was cutting out. She immediately apologized to the crowd, recalling that it rained all week during the stage setup and that some of the equipment probably was affected. She played it cool, pausing to listen to crew members communicating the status through her ear piece and talking back to them as the crowd listened in. As the scene played out, I pictured in my mind dozens of crew members scurrying around backstage replacing cables, duct-taping attachments and working to fix the issue – which was resolved in minutes. … Later, while her band and dancers were taking a break and Taylor was on stage by herself to play a couple songs acoustically, she admitted she was battling a cold. A crew member stepped onto the stage to hand her a Kleenex and she asked for the crowd’s patience and forgiveness as she stepped away from the mic to blow her nose. … As the breeze was picking up toward the end of the show and she sat alone at a piano, it was easy to tell she was uncomfortably cold on the stage. But her professionalism shined, and her ability to power through it and deliver a top-notch performance for the grateful crowd was impressive.
And the wristbands. After passing through the gates, everyone was handed a clear Vivofit style wristband. We weren’t given any instructions but figured they had something to do with the show – and wow, did they ever. From the first moment of the show, they lit up and didn’t stop until the stage went dark at the end of the night, only adding to the amazing light effects throughout the show. They flashed to the beats of the songs. Sometimes they flashed bright white. Sometimes they were red. Sometimes they were multi-colored. Sometimes they blinked. Sometimes they illuminated like a wave spreading across the stadium bowl.
Every few minutes I’d sneak a look at Phoebe and I’m not sure she ever stopped smiling. She sang along to every. single. word. Several times, I leaned into her to ask the title of the song Taylor was singing, and she knew every time. How do you know all of this!? I thought. But I remember my mom asking me the same question when I was Phoebe’s age on the mornings that she drove me to school and I sang all the words to the songs that played on the car radio.
One of the high points of the night was a run of “Style,” “Love Song” and “You Belong to Me.” …
All night long, there were blasts of confetti and fog machines and no shortage of pyrotechnics. During “I Did Something Bad,” balls of flame shot from the stop of the stage, and we could literally feel the heat all the way from where we were sitting.
About a third of the way into the show, I got my answer about the smaller stages in the end zone when Taylor stepped onto a carriage that transported her over the crowd from the main stage to the smaller stage on the opposite corner of where we were sitting. It was a beautiful scene that fit the tone of the song and the stage transition perfectly.
Then an amazing dance party broke out. Watch …
The euphoria of “Shake It Off” felt like a finale – and yet we weren’t even halfway through the show. On the next two songs, the band when silent and the dancers disappeared as she performed “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” and a fan favorite, “The Story of Us.” Just her on an acoustic guitar and a beautiful crowd sing-along. (Here's an up-close version)
She walked through the crowd to get to the other small stage, where she performed a few more songs, and then boarded a snake-shaped apparatus that shipped her back to the main stage while she sang “Bad Blood.”
Back on the X, she sang a raucous “Don’t Blame Me” that was accompanied by some mean guitar and more fireballs sprouting from the top of the stage; for me it was the most powerful performance of the night. Then, she was left alone at a piano where she played a medley of “Long Live” and “New Year’s Day.” … I love “New Year’s Day,” and her moving performance of it on “The Tonight Show” with Jimmy Fallon remains unforgettable. I had chills going through my body as she performed it last night and would have been disappointed if she hadn’t. …
A couple songs later, the drum beats of “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” began pounding through the stadium. The crowd sang it loud with her and we were treated to just enough of it before the band transitioned into “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” – perhaps my favorite track on the “Reputation” album.
What unfolded was a concert finale for the ages …
When the smoke from the fireworks cleared, the lights at the stadium turned on, and Phoebe and I stood back against our seats and caught our breaths. Even then, the show was still going as end credits rolled on the big screens behind the stage. The screens flashed photos and names of the musicians and dancers who were part of the show, mixed with outtakes of Taylor and her crew rehearsing in an empty Arrowhead Stadium. Phoebe and I just stood there, soaking it in and relishing the final minutes of a truly memorable night.
I’m just going to say it. Of all my concert days and nights, this was the best concert ever … Sorry, Fun. You’ve been overtaken. (Ironically, Fun member Jack Antonoff co-produced “Reputation,” so there's that.)
Here’s The Kansas City Star review ...
The setlist
1. “Ready for It?”
2. “I Did Something Bad”
3. “Gorgeous”
4. “Style” / “Love Story” / “You Belong With Me”
5. “Look What You Made Me Do”
6. “End Game”
7. “King of My Heart”
8. “Delicate”
9. “Shake It Off” (with Charli XCX and Camila Cabello)
10. “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” (acoustic)
11. “The Story of Us” (acoustic)
12. “Blank Space”
13. “Dress”
14. “Bad Blood” / “Should’ve Said No”
15. “Don’t Blame Me”
16. “Long Live” / “New Year’s Day” (solo piano)
17. “Getaway Car”
18. “Call It What You Want”
19. “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” / “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things”
Taylor Swift. One of the biggest pop stars on the planet. I'm still having trouble believing it.
Phoebe has pretty much grown up with her music playing around our house – since the days of the “Love Song” music video rolling on our TV, back when Kates and I spent our Saturday mornings watching the VH1 countdown and we couldn’t name a single show on the Disney Channel. Oh, how times have changed, but that’s another post.
We own all of her albums and it’s no wonder Phoebe has grown to admire her music so much. Taylor is as wholesome as pop stars come these days, and I can’t think of another one I’d rather have Phoebe admire.
Fast forward to a year ago when the news broke that Taylor was unleashing a tour to promote her new “Reputation” album and coming to Kansas City. I started talking with Kates about the idea of taking Phoebe. Somehow I got a pair of tickets for us last December – we decided Faye wasn’t old enough for a big-time concert and Kates was ok with not going – and we presented them to Phoebe for her birthday in the form of a printed Ticketmaster confirmation. She opened the envelope, read the paper and let out a happy scream as she flopped into the couch.
And I’m not gonna lie. I was pretty darn excited to see Miss Taylor myself.
After months of waiting, the day of the concert finally came. As everyone was waking up yesterday, I went across the hall to Phoebe’s room and jumped on her as she lay in it. “Today’s the big day!” I shouted as I shook her and rocked her bed excitedly.
It turned out to be a beautiful night for an outdoor concert with an overcast sky and temperatures in the high 60s – which was a relief, considering it’s been raining nearly non-stop for the last two weeks. The grass, which had been on life support since late June because we had barely seen a drop of rain since then, is now a lush green, and I’ve mowed our lawn more times in the last three weeks – three times – than I did all of the month of July and for most of August combined.
A preview from the local news ...
With the concert set to start at 7, we left the house a little after 4 in the afternoon. I offered to take Phoebe somewhere for dinner, and she picked the McAlister’s Deli in St. Joseph, which she loves. It was a good halfway stop between The ‘Ville and Kansas City.
We arrived at the stadium complex around 6:50 and joined the parade of vehicles moving into the parking lot. We could hear the opening act, Charli XCX, on the stage inside Arrowhead as we drove through the parking lot. Finally, we got parked and started our walk to the stadium.
The place was a madhouse. But in a good way. … Taylor announced to the crowd shortly after she took the stage that last night’s show broke the attendance record for a concert at Arrowhead Stadium, and the number published this morning had it at 58,611 – and considering Arrowhead is the largest venue in Kansas City, that could mean it was the biggest in Kansas City history, right? The crowd was loaded with young couples and parents with tweens in tow, which relieved any doubts I was having about whether bringing Phoebe to a Taylor Swift stadium concert was the right thing to do. It only got better from there. The crowd was excellent and I didn’t observe an ounce of rudeness the entire night. A breath of fresh air.
Phoebe was all smiles and barely containing her excitement as we walked the ramp up to our seats. We were in the upper deck in a corner of one of the end zones. Charli XCX was ending her set with “Fancy” as we got to our seats around 7:30, and – although I would have liked hearing “Boom Clap” – I didn't mind that we missed her.
Around 7:45, the second act, Camila Cabello, took the stage. When we sat down, I couldn’t have told you what songs she was known for. When I asked her, Phoebe said she knew a couple of her songs and knew she was formerly with Fifth Harmony. … I was soon pleasantly surprised by how many of Cabello’s songs I did recognize. Wearing a Kansas City Chiefs jersey, she opened with “Never Be the Same,” which has been all over the radio this summer. Plus, she worked in “Bad Things,” a Machine Gun Kelly song on which she sings an altered chorus of Fastball’s “Out of my Head,” and she ended with “Havana,” another popular radio tune this summer. I also really liked “Inside Out.”
On the downside, Cabello appeared as nothing more than a speck on the stage from where we were seated. Huge arena and stadium shows have never been my thing and I much prefer the club and small theaters that most of my favorite bands tend to play. I like the intimacy of those environments and the feeling that you’re so close to the stage that you could shake the band members’ hands and you can really appreciate the musicianship playing out before your eyes. … Last night, our seats felt so far away that we had to rely heavily on the video screens, and I had doubts about whether Cabello was actually singing or going through the motions to a recorded track.
All of those thoughts were erased when Taylor took the stage.
During the intermission, Phoebe and I enjoyed watching the crowd and chatting about what we could expect during Taylor’s show. She was curious about the planning that goes into concerts in general and the stage construction, and I enjoyed explaining the production elements to her. After all, we’ve taken Phoebe to Summerfest a few times and some shows at the university, but she had never experienced a production even remotely close to the one we saw last night.
The main stage was shaped like an X with two huge panels at the back of it, each angled slightly toward the sides of the stadium and a giant skeleton of steel towers behind them. Red lights blinked at the top of the towers for extra effect. Adding to my own curiosity about the setup, two smaller stages were stationed at each corner of the end zone in front of us – which suggested additional performance space for Taylor, but I couldn’t figure out how she was going to get there if my suspicion was true …
The time passed quickly. The sky darkened fast and at around 8:30, the stadium lights went out.
Suddenly the stage came alive with bright lights and thumping bass. The two huge panels slid apart at the center of the stage, and out came Taylor, eyeing up the crowd and busting out “… Ready for it?” the opening track from “Reputation.”
She performed all but one of the 15 tracks from “Reputation” and effortlessly weaved in her hits and fan favorites throughout her two-hour show in the form of medleys and mashups. Taylor and a collection of dancers paraded up and down the X all night long as the musicians rocked their instruments from the second story of the steel structure.
The show was everything I had hoped for and more – even when things on stage weren’t exactly perfect – with not a curse word uttered throughout. Early in the show, Taylor was pacing the stage and talking to the crowd when she realized her mic was cutting out. She immediately apologized to the crowd, recalling that it rained all week during the stage setup and that some of the equipment probably was affected. She played it cool, pausing to listen to crew members communicating the status through her ear piece and talking back to them as the crowd listened in. As the scene played out, I pictured in my mind dozens of crew members scurrying around backstage replacing cables, duct-taping attachments and working to fix the issue – which was resolved in minutes. … Later, while her band and dancers were taking a break and Taylor was on stage by herself to play a couple songs acoustically, she admitted she was battling a cold. A crew member stepped onto the stage to hand her a Kleenex and she asked for the crowd’s patience and forgiveness as she stepped away from the mic to blow her nose. … As the breeze was picking up toward the end of the show and she sat alone at a piano, it was easy to tell she was uncomfortably cold on the stage. But her professionalism shined, and her ability to power through it and deliver a top-notch performance for the grateful crowd was impressive.
And the wristbands. After passing through the gates, everyone was handed a clear Vivofit style wristband. We weren’t given any instructions but figured they had something to do with the show – and wow, did they ever. From the first moment of the show, they lit up and didn’t stop until the stage went dark at the end of the night, only adding to the amazing light effects throughout the show. They flashed to the beats of the songs. Sometimes they flashed bright white. Sometimes they were red. Sometimes they were multi-colored. Sometimes they blinked. Sometimes they illuminated like a wave spreading across the stadium bowl.
Every few minutes I’d sneak a look at Phoebe and I’m not sure she ever stopped smiling. She sang along to every. single. word. Several times, I leaned into her to ask the title of the song Taylor was singing, and she knew every time. How do you know all of this!? I thought. But I remember my mom asking me the same question when I was Phoebe’s age on the mornings that she drove me to school and I sang all the words to the songs that played on the car radio.
One of the high points of the night was a run of “Style,” “Love Song” and “You Belong to Me.” …
All night long, there were blasts of confetti and fog machines and no shortage of pyrotechnics. During “I Did Something Bad,” balls of flame shot from the stop of the stage, and we could literally feel the heat all the way from where we were sitting.
About a third of the way into the show, I got my answer about the smaller stages in the end zone when Taylor stepped onto a carriage that transported her over the crowd from the main stage to the smaller stage on the opposite corner of where we were sitting. It was a beautiful scene that fit the tone of the song and the stage transition perfectly.
Then an amazing dance party broke out. Watch …
The euphoria of “Shake It Off” felt like a finale – and yet we weren’t even halfway through the show. On the next two songs, the band when silent and the dancers disappeared as she performed “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” and a fan favorite, “The Story of Us.” Just her on an acoustic guitar and a beautiful crowd sing-along. (Here's an up-close version)
She walked through the crowd to get to the other small stage, where she performed a few more songs, and then boarded a snake-shaped apparatus that shipped her back to the main stage while she sang “Bad Blood.”
Back on the X, she sang a raucous “Don’t Blame Me” that was accompanied by some mean guitar and more fireballs sprouting from the top of the stage; for me it was the most powerful performance of the night. Then, she was left alone at a piano where she played a medley of “Long Live” and “New Year’s Day.” … I love “New Year’s Day,” and her moving performance of it on “The Tonight Show” with Jimmy Fallon remains unforgettable. I had chills going through my body as she performed it last night and would have been disappointed if she hadn’t. …
A couple songs later, the drum beats of “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” began pounding through the stadium. The crowd sang it loud with her and we were treated to just enough of it before the band transitioned into “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” – perhaps my favorite track on the “Reputation” album.
What unfolded was a concert finale for the ages …
When the smoke from the fireworks cleared, the lights at the stadium turned on, and Phoebe and I stood back against our seats and caught our breaths. Even then, the show was still going as end credits rolled on the big screens behind the stage. The screens flashed photos and names of the musicians and dancers who were part of the show, mixed with outtakes of Taylor and her crew rehearsing in an empty Arrowhead Stadium. Phoebe and I just stood there, soaking it in and relishing the final minutes of a truly memorable night.
I’m just going to say it. Of all my concert days and nights, this was the best concert ever … Sorry, Fun. You’ve been overtaken. (Ironically, Fun member Jack Antonoff co-produced “Reputation,” so there's that.)
Here’s The Kansas City Star review ...
The massive crowd witnessed an extraordinary spectacle. The main stage resembled an offshore oil rig outfitted with massive video screens. Most songs were complemented by an array of gaudy visual embellishments.(Update 9.19.2018: Here's a review from this week's St. Louis show.)
Swift zipped across the stadium in a skeletal snake during “Bad Blood.” She was flanked by aerial acrobats when she reached the stage.
The lavish display included an arsenal of fireworks, a phalanx of dancers, gales of confetti, and balls of fire that warmed the audience on a cool evening. Free wristbands distributed to all attendees emitted synchronized blasts of color. …
Swift’s interactions with the audience were unfailingly gracious, but a drawback of a nearly otherwise flawless two-hour production was revealed as Swift rendered tender songs on piano shortly after admitting she was suffering from a cold.
The setlist
1. “Ready for It?”
2. “I Did Something Bad”
3. “Gorgeous”
4. “Style” / “Love Story” / “You Belong With Me”
5. “Look What You Made Me Do”
6. “End Game”
7. “King of My Heart”
8. “Delicate”
9. “Shake It Off” (with Charli XCX and Camila Cabello)
10. “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” (acoustic)
11. “The Story of Us” (acoustic)
12. “Blank Space”
13. “Dress”
14. “Bad Blood” / “Should’ve Said No”
15. “Don’t Blame Me”
16. “Long Live” / “New Year’s Day” (solo piano)
17. “Getaway Car”
18. “Call It What You Want”
19. “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” / “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things”
8.19.2018
Sunday reading
I'm lounging on the porch, listening to the Cubs game and reading the newspapers -- online -- while it rains on the other side of the screens. It is good.
Some good reads, all from The New York Times ...
Some good reads, all from The New York Times ...
7.04.2018
Summerfest 2018, take 2
As disappointed as I was in the Summerfest lineup this year, I decided to take a gamble tonight. We had been settled in at Kates’ parents since Sunday night and I nearly decided to stay put, doubting it was worth the 2 ½ drive over to Milwaukee, essentially to hear two songs.
But Foster the People was playing, and I really wanted to hear two songs live and have the unmatched Summerfest experience. A night to myself, to be me.
So I went. I dropped my stuff at Orrin’s and Kelli’s house – which has become our de facto Airbnb when we visit the state each summer. I rolled into downtown around 6 p.m., found a parking garage and began my walk to the grounds.
With the lakefront fireworks set to launch at dark, a crowd was filling the grounds surrounding the art museum. It was a festive and gorgeous night downtown. But what night at Summerfest isn’t?
I took my time strolling through the grounds tonight, more so than usual, wanting to soak up the sights and sounds. As I told my mom the other night, I live for being in that atmosphere every summer.
There was a lot of great music coming from the side stages tonight. I caught a long-haired rocker at the Tiki Lounge doing “Ain’t No Sunshine.” Better yet, I walked up to another stage where a classic rock cover band had a crowd of people dancing to a spot-on version of “Melt with You,” and they followed it with a cover of Pink Floyd’s “Run Like Hell.” Further down, a male duo was wielding their guitars on a grunge-style original.
I passed through the marketplace. Gazed at the Ferris wheel. And grabbed a cheeseburger at one of my favorite Summerfest eating spots, Miss Katie’s Diner.
I settled in at the Miller Lite Oasis to hear Attica Riots last song, “Blood, Sunshine and Hysteria.” And I liked it.
Drax Project, a New Zealand outfit, came on at 8:30 and announced they were playing their first U.S. show. The crowd immediately jumped to their feet on the benches as the band opened with “Toto.”
The jazz-pop band’s hour-long set featured a mix of songs off their newly released EP and unreleased tracks, including “Hollywood.” They kept the atmosphere light and fun and were a perfect warmup for Foster the People. … I liked them, too, and have already downloaded their EP, along with a few Attica Riots tracks. Summerfest did me good tonight.
As if it was planned, Drax Project left the stage and Milwaukee’s lakefront fireworks began lighting up the sky behind us, providing an entertaining interlude while the stagehands went to work to set the stage for Foster the People.
Rarely off schedule at Summerfest, the clock struck 10 and the stage began filling with fog. It barely let up the rest of Foster the People’s set, a flashy showcase –literally – of punchy electronic rock.
From the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel …
But seriously. The sole reason I went to Summerfest tonight – although, once there, I found several other things to enjoy – was to hear “Pumped Up Kicks.” It was the song of the summer in 2011, and it felt like everyone in the crowd was there last night to hear it. It helped that “Sit Next to Me” is hot on the radio this summer – it might be my favorite song of this season – and I like “Don’t Stop,” too.
I played Foster’s three albums a couple weeks ago to re-familiarize myself with the band’s work, but still nothing about them excited me like the songs I named above. Tonight was one of the rare occasions I went to see a band perform without a broad admiration for their whole catalogue. Tonight was all about discovery and hoping to find a deeper appreciation.
It turned out to be the right decision. With a youthful crowd cheering them on, every song seemed to begin with a roar of synthesizers. Foster bounced and slid his feet across the stage at times like he was channeling James Brown. The flashing lights combined with the pumping electronic beats made it a full-fledged party. I couldn’t sing any of the songs word for word tonight, but it didn’t matter. I just listened let my eyes soak up the spectacle surrounding me.
One of the highlights included a romping cover of the Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop.”
To close out the set, Mark Foster, who hadn’t spoken more than a few words to the crowd all night, offered up a rallying statement about the issues dividing our country – something I was expecting before “Pumped Up Kicks” – and then glided into a smooth-sounding “Sit Next to Me.”
The band had barely left the stage and the crowd started a fist-pumping chant of “Pumped Up Kicks” when Foster returned. They fired off “I Love My Friends” and then their signature hit – which the band seemed to play hastily as if they just wanted to please the crowd and get it over with.
The setlist:
But Foster the People was playing, and I really wanted to hear two songs live and have the unmatched Summerfest experience. A night to myself, to be me.
So I went. I dropped my stuff at Orrin’s and Kelli’s house – which has become our de facto Airbnb when we visit the state each summer. I rolled into downtown around 6 p.m., found a parking garage and began my walk to the grounds.
With the lakefront fireworks set to launch at dark, a crowd was filling the grounds surrounding the art museum. It was a festive and gorgeous night downtown. But what night at Summerfest isn’t?
I took my time strolling through the grounds tonight, more so than usual, wanting to soak up the sights and sounds. As I told my mom the other night, I live for being in that atmosphere every summer.
There was a lot of great music coming from the side stages tonight. I caught a long-haired rocker at the Tiki Lounge doing “Ain’t No Sunshine.” Better yet, I walked up to another stage where a classic rock cover band had a crowd of people dancing to a spot-on version of “Melt with You,” and they followed it with a cover of Pink Floyd’s “Run Like Hell.” Further down, a male duo was wielding their guitars on a grunge-style original.I passed through the marketplace. Gazed at the Ferris wheel. And grabbed a cheeseburger at one of my favorite Summerfest eating spots, Miss Katie’s Diner.
I settled in at the Miller Lite Oasis to hear Attica Riots last song, “Blood, Sunshine and Hysteria.” And I liked it.
Drax Project, a New Zealand outfit, came on at 8:30 and announced they were playing their first U.S. show. The crowd immediately jumped to their feet on the benches as the band opened with “Toto.”
The jazz-pop band’s hour-long set featured a mix of songs off their newly released EP and unreleased tracks, including “Hollywood.” They kept the atmosphere light and fun and were a perfect warmup for Foster the People. … I liked them, too, and have already downloaded their EP, along with a few Attica Riots tracks. Summerfest did me good tonight.
As if it was planned, Drax Project left the stage and Milwaukee’s lakefront fireworks began lighting up the sky behind us, providing an entertaining interlude while the stagehands went to work to set the stage for Foster the People.
Rarely off schedule at Summerfest, the clock struck 10 and the stage began filling with fog. It barely let up the rest of Foster the People’s set, a flashy showcase –literally – of punchy electronic rock.
From the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel …
As white clouds enveloped and sometimes obscured Foster the People, I couldn’t help wondering about the indie-pop band’s smoke budget. Must be sizable.Commanding indeed.
Not that it was needed. Foster the People has enough hits, including “Pumped Up Kicks” and “Don’t Stop (Color on the Walls)” to attract an overflow crowd at the Miller Lite Oasis Tuesday night. Plus a light show that competed with and sometimes complemented the fireworks over Lake Michigan.
Lead singer Mark Foster played guitar and keyboards and commanded the stage in a Hawaiian shirt while powering through “Helena Beat,” “Coming of Age” and “Don’t Stop.”
But seriously. The sole reason I went to Summerfest tonight – although, once there, I found several other things to enjoy – was to hear “Pumped Up Kicks.” It was the song of the summer in 2011, and it felt like everyone in the crowd was there last night to hear it. It helped that “Sit Next to Me” is hot on the radio this summer – it might be my favorite song of this season – and I like “Don’t Stop,” too.
I played Foster’s three albums a couple weeks ago to re-familiarize myself with the band’s work, but still nothing about them excited me like the songs I named above. Tonight was one of the rare occasions I went to see a band perform without a broad admiration for their whole catalogue. Tonight was all about discovery and hoping to find a deeper appreciation.
It turned out to be the right decision. With a youthful crowd cheering them on, every song seemed to begin with a roar of synthesizers. Foster bounced and slid his feet across the stage at times like he was channeling James Brown. The flashing lights combined with the pumping electronic beats made it a full-fledged party. I couldn’t sing any of the songs word for word tonight, but it didn’t matter. I just listened let my eyes soak up the spectacle surrounding me.
One of the highlights included a romping cover of the Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop.”
To close out the set, Mark Foster, who hadn’t spoken more than a few words to the crowd all night, offered up a rallying statement about the issues dividing our country – something I was expecting before “Pumped Up Kicks” – and then glided into a smooth-sounding “Sit Next to Me.”
The band had barely left the stage and the crowd started a fist-pumping chant of “Pumped Up Kicks” when Foster returned. They fired off “I Love My Friends” and then their signature hit – which the band seemed to play hastily as if they just wanted to please the crowd and get it over with.
The setlist:
- Houdini
- Are You What You Want to Be?
- Pay the Man
- Helena Beat
- Coming of Age
- Waste
- Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)
- Lotus Eater
- Blitzkrieg Bop (Ramones cover)
- Pseudologia Fantastica
- A Beginner's Guide to Destroying the Moon
- Doing It for the Money
- Loyal Like Sid & Nancy
- Sit Next To Me
Encore - I Love My Friends
- Pumped Up Kicks
6.29.2018
Summerfest 2018, take 1
So I saw James Taylor perform tonight. For the third time. ... Twelve years ago, I was dreaming of seeing him just once.
But when Summerfest began announcing its headliners last spring and my mom saw James Taylor was coming, she urged me to get tickets, mostly for Dad. James Taylor is one of his musical heroes and seeing him live was a bucket list item. I was skeptical of how my mom might do, though, with her MS in the loud and crowded environment of Summerfest, but she insisted she wanted to go with us. So I jumped on it the morning tickets went on sale and snagged us three bleacher seats at center stage. Kates, having seeing him with me two times, was comfortable staying back with the girls.
To my surprise and delight, Mom was all about getting the full Summerfest experience. While Kates and the girls went to Orrin’s for the day, we hung out at our hotel and then headed for the Summerfest grounds mid-afternoon.
With Dad driving and me navigating in the front passenger seat, getting through Milwaukee traffic was the toughest test of my mother’s delicate mind. She freaks out at the swerve or brake of any vehicle and raises her voice at my father any time he goes even one mile per hour over the speed limit. “Oh-my-gosh-geez-camoni” she shouted at one point of distress, leaning back and grabbing her seat as if we were riding a roller coaster. It was only that treacherous in her mind.
When she said during our drive that she needed a beer, I would have sworn she was being facetious. But she asked Dad and me to stop at the first Leinenkugel’s stand we came to inside the grounds and had Dad buy us a round of Summer Shandys. What a moment that was, and, wow, it tasted good.
I led them on a tour of the grounds, explaining how the landscape has changed in my 15 or so years of going to Summerfest and showing them some of my favorite spots. We stopped at a couple of the stages to get a taste of the culture - from the Ecuadorian band that plays somewhere on the grounds every summer to a bongo drum collective. Mom reflected on coming to Summerfest back in 1974 when it was mostly gravel and the stages were much smaller. Now it’s paved with state-of-the-art stages, and full-scale restaurants and dining areas, among other features, from one end of the grounds to the other.
Having walked the entire grounds and with the James Taylor show scheduled to begin at 7:30, we made our way to the amphitheater entrance. With Mom in her wheelchair, the guest services staff was accommodating at every turn, pointing us to our seats and providing a place for us to store her wheelchair during the show.
We had been sitting for a couple minutes when the crowd erupted, and we looked up to see Mr. Taylor walking on to the stage. He welcomed the crowd, assured us we were in for a great night and then introduced his opening act, the one and only Bonnie Raitt.
Admittedly, I’m probably under appreciative of her work. Growing up, if I wasn’t listening to oldies stations and classic rock with my dad, I was listening to light radio with my mom, and the latter is how I got to know Bonnie. “Something to Talk About” was a staple, as was “I Can’t Make You Love Me,” two songs I might put on a list of my 500 all-time favorites. I also remember how much I hated hearing “Love Sneakin’ Up On You” when it came out in 1994. By that time I was deep into my teenage years and had migrated to the top 40 radio stations more suited for my age, bit that song was so overplayed no matter what radio station I listened to that summer.
With all of those memories as a backdrop in my mind, she was an exciting act to see. While she stuck to a set filled mostly with bluesy covers that I didn’t recognize, her voice was still crisp and her command of the guitar appearing effortless.
About midway through her set, she pulled out “Something to Talk About” - which was every bit as great as I had hoped.
She followed it with “Nick of Time,” a song I’d forgotten about, and it sounded so good live.
From the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel …
Finally, Taylor appeared with his band and took centerstage on his iconic stool and began strumming “Carolina In My Mind.”
Similar to when Kates and I saw him a few years ago in Kansas City, the show seemed to begin quietly and took time to hit its stride. Mixed with the easy going melodies of “Walking Man” and “Handy Man,” he threw in lesser knowns “Sunny Skies” and “First of May.”
Part of the reason the first half the show seemed to drag could be attributed to the man sitting in front of us and his dingbat female companion, who proceeded to play games and scroll through social media feeds on her brightly lit phone the whole time Taylor was performing. And when she wasn’t doing something on her phone, she was stretching her back and moving in a way that blocked our views of the stage. Her father or much older boyfriend or whoever the guy was sitting next to her never raised a finger to stop her. It was the worst concert etiquette I’ve ever witnessed, and we were thankful to God when they got up halfway through the show and never returned.
Like the Kansas City show, Taylor and his band turned the energy level up when he hit “Mexico” and barely let up on the gas pedal the rest of the way, spinning hit after hit.
We marveled during the previous shows at Taylor’s storytelling ability and comic timing, too, and it was present tonight also. One story he told tonight that I didn’t recall from the other shows revolved around him playing “Something In the Way She Moves” for Paul McCartney and George Harrison when he auditioned for Apple Records. George liked it so much that he rewrote it himself, Taylor quipped.
And the multimedia production that provided the backdrop to Taylor and Co. throughout was a show of its own. Jumping off on the retrospective that opened the show, the screen alternated from close-ups of the band members to colorful scenes of Americana and beautiful landscapes to go with Taylor’s lyrics. Every time Taylor introduced a band member, a photo appeared of the musician performing as a child or early in their career. During “Sweet Baby James,” images rolled across the screen of the lyrics printed in a book, giving the audience the sense they were following along with a bedtime story.
While I enjoyed my personal favorites like “Mexico” and “Your Smiling Face,” Taylor’s performance of “Fire and Rain” felt especially poignant. It’s Dad’s favorite, and I could feel him flush with emotion as he listened to it.
The nostalgia and good vibes were really flowing by the time Taylor closed out his set. Bonnie Raitt joined him on stage for a rousing cover of “Johnny B. Goode.”
Finally, Bonnie Raitt rejoined James once more. I knew what was coming and they took their seats on a pair of stools to sing, “You Can Close Your Eyes.”
It had been a truly special and memorable night with my mom and dad. We left the grounds with smiling faces.
The setlist
But when Summerfest began announcing its headliners last spring and my mom saw James Taylor was coming, she urged me to get tickets, mostly for Dad. James Taylor is one of his musical heroes and seeing him live was a bucket list item. I was skeptical of how my mom might do, though, with her MS in the loud and crowded environment of Summerfest, but she insisted she wanted to go with us. So I jumped on it the morning tickets went on sale and snagged us three bleacher seats at center stage. Kates, having seeing him with me two times, was comfortable staying back with the girls.
To my surprise and delight, Mom was all about getting the full Summerfest experience. While Kates and the girls went to Orrin’s for the day, we hung out at our hotel and then headed for the Summerfest grounds mid-afternoon.
With Dad driving and me navigating in the front passenger seat, getting through Milwaukee traffic was the toughest test of my mother’s delicate mind. She freaks out at the swerve or brake of any vehicle and raises her voice at my father any time he goes even one mile per hour over the speed limit. “Oh-my-gosh-geez-camoni” she shouted at one point of distress, leaning back and grabbing her seat as if we were riding a roller coaster. It was only that treacherous in her mind.
When she said during our drive that she needed a beer, I would have sworn she was being facetious. But she asked Dad and me to stop at the first Leinenkugel’s stand we came to inside the grounds and had Dad buy us a round of Summer Shandys. What a moment that was, and, wow, it tasted good.
I led them on a tour of the grounds, explaining how the landscape has changed in my 15 or so years of going to Summerfest and showing them some of my favorite spots. We stopped at a couple of the stages to get a taste of the culture - from the Ecuadorian band that plays somewhere on the grounds every summer to a bongo drum collective. Mom reflected on coming to Summerfest back in 1974 when it was mostly gravel and the stages were much smaller. Now it’s paved with state-of-the-art stages, and full-scale restaurants and dining areas, among other features, from one end of the grounds to the other.
Having walked the entire grounds and with the James Taylor show scheduled to begin at 7:30, we made our way to the amphitheater entrance. With Mom in her wheelchair, the guest services staff was accommodating at every turn, pointing us to our seats and providing a place for us to store her wheelchair during the show.
We had been sitting for a couple minutes when the crowd erupted, and we looked up to see Mr. Taylor walking on to the stage. He welcomed the crowd, assured us we were in for a great night and then introduced his opening act, the one and only Bonnie Raitt.
Admittedly, I’m probably under appreciative of her work. Growing up, if I wasn’t listening to oldies stations and classic rock with my dad, I was listening to light radio with my mom, and the latter is how I got to know Bonnie. “Something to Talk About” was a staple, as was “I Can’t Make You Love Me,” two songs I might put on a list of my 500 all-time favorites. I also remember how much I hated hearing “Love Sneakin’ Up On You” when it came out in 1994. By that time I was deep into my teenage years and had migrated to the top 40 radio stations more suited for my age, bit that song was so overplayed no matter what radio station I listened to that summer.
With all of those memories as a backdrop in my mind, she was an exciting act to see. While she stuck to a set filled mostly with bluesy covers that I didn’t recognize, her voice was still crisp and her command of the guitar appearing effortless.
About midway through her set, she pulled out “Something to Talk About” - which was every bit as great as I had hoped.
She followed it with “Nick of Time,” a song I’d forgotten about, and it sounded so good live.
From the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel …
Across 10 songs, she showed she was worth every accolade and then some, including a smoking blues-rock rendition of Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House” (with Ivan Neville’s keys throwing a bit of gas on the flames).After an intermission and a complete set change that morphed into a colorful house, the stage soon came alive with a prolonged video retrospective of Taylor’s career through interview and concert footage, photos and TV appearances that included - a favorite from my childhood - his performance of Jellyman Kelly on “Sesame Street.”
And she dedicated a sparsely gorgeous cover of John Prine’s “Angel From Montgomery” to women suffering around the world, including those “separated from their children right now,” an apparent reference to the immigration crisis.
And before she wrapped up, she slapped on some lipstick as Taylor returned to the stage to jam along to John Hiatt’s “Thing Called Love,” the friends huddling together, electric guitars in hand.
Finally, Taylor appeared with his band and took centerstage on his iconic stool and began strumming “Carolina In My Mind.”
Similar to when Kates and I saw him a few years ago in Kansas City, the show seemed to begin quietly and took time to hit its stride. Mixed with the easy going melodies of “Walking Man” and “Handy Man,” he threw in lesser knowns “Sunny Skies” and “First of May.”
Part of the reason the first half the show seemed to drag could be attributed to the man sitting in front of us and his dingbat female companion, who proceeded to play games and scroll through social media feeds on her brightly lit phone the whole time Taylor was performing. And when she wasn’t doing something on her phone, she was stretching her back and moving in a way that blocked our views of the stage. Her father or much older boyfriend or whoever the guy was sitting next to her never raised a finger to stop her. It was the worst concert etiquette I’ve ever witnessed, and we were thankful to God when they got up halfway through the show and never returned.
Like the Kansas City show, Taylor and his band turned the energy level up when he hit “Mexico” and barely let up on the gas pedal the rest of the way, spinning hit after hit.
We marveled during the previous shows at Taylor’s storytelling ability and comic timing, too, and it was present tonight also. One story he told tonight that I didn’t recall from the other shows revolved around him playing “Something In the Way She Moves” for Paul McCartney and George Harrison when he auditioned for Apple Records. George liked it so much that he rewrote it himself, Taylor quipped.
And the multimedia production that provided the backdrop to Taylor and Co. throughout was a show of its own. Jumping off on the retrospective that opened the show, the screen alternated from close-ups of the band members to colorful scenes of Americana and beautiful landscapes to go with Taylor’s lyrics. Every time Taylor introduced a band member, a photo appeared of the musician performing as a child or early in their career. During “Sweet Baby James,” images rolled across the screen of the lyrics printed in a book, giving the audience the sense they were following along with a bedtime story.
While I enjoyed my personal favorites like “Mexico” and “Your Smiling Face,” Taylor’s performance of “Fire and Rain” felt especially poignant. It’s Dad’s favorite, and I could feel him flush with emotion as he listened to it.
The nostalgia and good vibes were really flowing by the time Taylor closed out his set. Bonnie Raitt joined him on stage for a rousing cover of “Johnny B. Goode.”
That initially appeared as though it was going to be Taylor’s last song as the band bowed and waved to the standing crowd. But then Taylor appeared to call an audible, huddling with his band and waving a finger as if to say, “one more.” A camera shot on the big screens showed a woman wearing headphones in the audio booth and waving a finger back at Taylor in agreement. The result was Taylor leading a crowd sing-along of “You’ve Got a Friend.”.@JamesTaylor_com & @TheBonnieRaitt back on stage together again @Summerfest to pay tribute to @ChuckBerry. More coverage @journalsentinel pic.twitter.com/9LtWL0ZNTc— Piet Levy (@pietlevy) June 29, 2018
Finally, Bonnie Raitt rejoined James once more. I knew what was coming and they took their seats on a pair of stools to sing, “You Can Close Your Eyes.”
It had been a truly special and memorable night with my mom and dad. We left the grounds with smiling faces.
The setlist
- Carolina In My Mind
- Country Road
- Sunny Skies
- Walking Man
- First of May
- Handy Man
- Steamroller
- Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
- Up On The Roof
- Mexico
- Something In the Way She Moves
- Sweet Baby James
- Fire and Rain
- Shed a Little Light
- Your Smiling Face
- Shower the People
- How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)
Encore - Johnny B. Goode
- You’ve Got a Friend
- You Can Close Your Eyes
6.16.2018
The paper route
I caught this opinion piece by Peter Funt while I was sorting through emails and catching up on news this morning. His view is true and another sign of the sad state of the newspaper business.
I never saw a kitten thrown out of a van, and don’t recall anything so crazy when I had my paper route, but his stories brought back a lot of memories that I rarely think about anymore of my first job as a newspaper delivery boy, tossing our hometown newspaper in suburban Kansas City onto the driveways in my neighborhood. … Maybe it was my second job – I worked for a couple summers as a little league umpire, too, but which one came first, I no longer remember. Later, once I could drive and entered high school, I was a “courtesy clerk,” aka grocery sacker, at the local Price Chopper – which provided some crazier experiences, including a night that I witnessed a robbery while I was collecting carts outside the store – and then a tester, and whatever else my dad needed me to do, at the LCD factory where he worked.
I don’t remember exactly how I came to be a newspaper delivery boy. A newspaper ad, it must have been, that my mom saw and shared with me to gauge my interest. I thought it sounded good, I assume at that age, mostly because it meant extra spending money in my pocket for baseball cards and Slurpees from the 7-Eleven a few blocks from our house. It was the early ’90s, and I couldn’t have been more than 13 or 14 years old.
I remember it was spring time – March or early April – when I took the job. I spent a few early mornings riding around with a woman who oversaw the newspaper delivery operation, learning my new route. Thinking about it now, in this day and age, it seems almost blasphemous to basically be picked up at 4 or 5 in the morning by a woman I’d never met and for her to drive me around for a couple hours in her beater of a car with no parental or company supervision. But the early ’90s still had a vestige of earlier decades when we were more trusting of people and kids were allowed to roam and explore our surroundings with the neighborhood kids and be gone for hours without Mom or Dad growing too concerned.
When it was time for me to do the route on my own, my mom drove me on most mornings until the weather warmed and I could go completely solo on my bike. By the summer, my parents and I had recruited my younger brother to help.
It was a daily newspaper. So every morning, one of my parents woke me up around 4 in the morning. We retrieved the stack of newspapers from our front step and then lugged them to the laundry room at the back of our house where we rolled them, placed them in rubber bands – we also placed them into orange plastic bags if it was a rainy day – and stacked them in my white canvas delivery bag. … Until that time, I don’t think I knew people got up and went to work so early.
Along with the stack of newspapers came a spreadsheet that showed all of the addresses on my route and the names of the subscribers. Every morning I had to review the list to look for new subscribers, or subscribers that had canceled and no longer required a stop at their address. I recall there were maybe 40, 45 addresses – it might have been much higher, now that I’m thinking about it – on the daily list, which covered our subdivision and two or three neighboring subdivisions, all located within one or two square miles.
The job for me didn’t last more than two or three months. By July I had moved on to other things. Because I was becoming a wise teenager and quickly realized – I think my parents did, too – the pennies I was being paid for each newspaper I delivered were not worth the stress of my parents rattling me out of bed every morning, carting me around on the days I couldn’t ride my bike and the amount of labor it took for a 13-year-old kid to get all of the papers neatly rolled and delivered by 7 a.m.
But some of the things I recall most clearly – and that make me happiest – about that time is the trust my parents put in me to do the job, to hold some responsibility and, above all, the care they took in helping me try it. Lord knows, they couldn’t have liked getting up so early those mornings either. … I remember, too, how good it made me feel on the occasions when one of the subscribers stepped outside as I rode up to the front step on my bicycle, complimented me on the job I was doing and handed me a dollar bill as a tip. It made me want to place the newspaper on that person’s doorstep just a little bit neater after that … I remember how fun it was to watch the progress of the sun rising as I neared the end of my route each morning … And I remember the fun my brother and I had on the days that he helped me, racing our bikes to see who could finish their half of the route faster and then wahoo-ing as we reconvened near the end of the route and raced up the winding road to our driveway.
Did it help shape my love for newspapers and influence me to embark on my newspaper journalism career? Maybe, but I believe that fate was sealed years earlier when I would eat breakfast with Dad before school and he’d share the sports pages of the Wisconsin State Journal with me. That’s a whole other story.
I never saw a kitten thrown out of a van, and don’t recall anything so crazy when I had my paper route, but his stories brought back a lot of memories that I rarely think about anymore of my first job as a newspaper delivery boy, tossing our hometown newspaper in suburban Kansas City onto the driveways in my neighborhood. … Maybe it was my second job – I worked for a couple summers as a little league umpire, too, but which one came first, I no longer remember. Later, once I could drive and entered high school, I was a “courtesy clerk,” aka grocery sacker, at the local Price Chopper – which provided some crazier experiences, including a night that I witnessed a robbery while I was collecting carts outside the store – and then a tester, and whatever else my dad needed me to do, at the LCD factory where he worked.
I don’t remember exactly how I came to be a newspaper delivery boy. A newspaper ad, it must have been, that my mom saw and shared with me to gauge my interest. I thought it sounded good, I assume at that age, mostly because it meant extra spending money in my pocket for baseball cards and Slurpees from the 7-Eleven a few blocks from our house. It was the early ’90s, and I couldn’t have been more than 13 or 14 years old.
I remember it was spring time – March or early April – when I took the job. I spent a few early mornings riding around with a woman who oversaw the newspaper delivery operation, learning my new route. Thinking about it now, in this day and age, it seems almost blasphemous to basically be picked up at 4 or 5 in the morning by a woman I’d never met and for her to drive me around for a couple hours in her beater of a car with no parental or company supervision. But the early ’90s still had a vestige of earlier decades when we were more trusting of people and kids were allowed to roam and explore our surroundings with the neighborhood kids and be gone for hours without Mom or Dad growing too concerned.
When it was time for me to do the route on my own, my mom drove me on most mornings until the weather warmed and I could go completely solo on my bike. By the summer, my parents and I had recruited my younger brother to help.
It was a daily newspaper. So every morning, one of my parents woke me up around 4 in the morning. We retrieved the stack of newspapers from our front step and then lugged them to the laundry room at the back of our house where we rolled them, placed them in rubber bands – we also placed them into orange plastic bags if it was a rainy day – and stacked them in my white canvas delivery bag. … Until that time, I don’t think I knew people got up and went to work so early.
Along with the stack of newspapers came a spreadsheet that showed all of the addresses on my route and the names of the subscribers. Every morning I had to review the list to look for new subscribers, or subscribers that had canceled and no longer required a stop at their address. I recall there were maybe 40, 45 addresses – it might have been much higher, now that I’m thinking about it – on the daily list, which covered our subdivision and two or three neighboring subdivisions, all located within one or two square miles.
The job for me didn’t last more than two or three months. By July I had moved on to other things. Because I was becoming a wise teenager and quickly realized – I think my parents did, too – the pennies I was being paid for each newspaper I delivered were not worth the stress of my parents rattling me out of bed every morning, carting me around on the days I couldn’t ride my bike and the amount of labor it took for a 13-year-old kid to get all of the papers neatly rolled and delivered by 7 a.m.
But some of the things I recall most clearly – and that make me happiest – about that time is the trust my parents put in me to do the job, to hold some responsibility and, above all, the care they took in helping me try it. Lord knows, they couldn’t have liked getting up so early those mornings either. … I remember, too, how good it made me feel on the occasions when one of the subscribers stepped outside as I rode up to the front step on my bicycle, complimented me on the job I was doing and handed me a dollar bill as a tip. It made me want to place the newspaper on that person’s doorstep just a little bit neater after that … I remember how fun it was to watch the progress of the sun rising as I neared the end of my route each morning … And I remember the fun my brother and I had on the days that he helped me, racing our bikes to see who could finish their half of the route faster and then wahoo-ing as we reconvened near the end of the route and raced up the winding road to our driveway.
Did it help shape my love for newspapers and influence me to embark on my newspaper journalism career? Maybe, but I believe that fate was sealed years earlier when I would eat breakfast with Dad before school and he’d share the sports pages of the Wisconsin State Journal with me. That’s a whole other story.
6.13.2018
A pickle for the ages
I’ve missed watching Lorenzo Cain doing his thing for the Royals this season … Oh, but he’s been good for the Brewers.
With the Brewers and Cubs playing at Miller Park this week, my attention is on that series, and I turned on the game last night, just minutes after this happened …
So great.
Afterward, LoCoin credited Rusty Kuntz and the Royals for the play. Because, of course, the Royals practiced it during the crazy, stealing, keep-the-line-moving fun that was 2014 and 2015.
Elsewhere on Tuesday night, the Royals were on the wrong side of a different rundown.
Both plays epitomize the Brewers’ and Royals’ seasons so far.
With the Brewers and Cubs playing at Miller Park this week, my attention is on that series, and I turned on the game last night, just minutes after this happened …
So great.
Afterward, LoCoin credited Rusty Kuntz and the Royals for the play. Because, of course, the Royals practiced it during the crazy, stealing, keep-the-line-moving fun that was 2014 and 2015.
Elsewhere on Tuesday night, the Royals were on the wrong side of a different rundown.
Both plays epitomize the Brewers’ and Royals’ seasons so far.
6.05.2018
Summer nights
Our nights are busy these days with Phoebe and Faye, but I’m hardly complaining.
I rushed home from work tonight to find the girls on the living room floor and watching TV, Faye dressed and ready to go in her T-ball uniform, and Kates had made a tuna melt for me, waiting beautifully on a plate at my side of the dining table. I had just a few minutes to eat because we had to get Faye to her 5:30 game.
The T-ball game. Faye is always one of the smallest on the field in stature, but she’s also one of the mightiest. Tonight she had the privilege of playing in the pitcher’s circle on the defensive side. And at the start of every inning, she was the first one on the field and down in her crouch, ready to field the ball – even before the first batter had left the opposing dugout. … The same goes for her plate appearances. In the on-deck circle she’s as focused on her practice swings as any of the girls. Then she steps to the plate, waits patiently for Coach to place the ball on the tee, puts the ball into play and puts her head down to run to first base.
While every T-ball game offers a loaded hour of entertainment and teachable moments, tonight’s game included a first baseman who got pegged in the middle of the back when she wasn’t paying attention on a batted ball that the pitcher fielded and threw toward first base. But tonight’s best folly happened when one of Faye’s teammates took off from first base on a foul ball and didn’t hear our coaches trying to stop her until she was halfway between second and third base – and then the batter put the ball in play while the runner was crossing the pitcher’s circle on her way back to first base, which created further commotion as the coaches yelled for her to turn around and head for second base.
The postgame. Barely a T-ball game of Faye’s has ended this summer without Phoebe asking me on our walk back to the car if I’ll help her practice her softball skills – and of course I won’t turn her down. I’m thrilled she’s enjoying it so much. … So we took Kates and Faye home, grabbed the ball gear and headed back to the ball fields. We practiced her hitting and her pitching for a solid hour, and the improvement she’s showing from the first practice of the season this year is remarkable. We both wished we could have stayed longer – but at that point tonight’s blazing sun was starting to give me heat stroke and Phoebe’s arm was rapidly turning to Jell-O. I had trouble convincing her we needed to head home but she finally gave in.
It’s been pure joy – and a revelation – watching Phoebe learn and play softball this summer. After the ups and downs of coaching her machine pitch team last year, I wasn’t so sure she would stay interested in the game and regretted not starting her earlier with T-ball like Faye. This year, though, she’s embracing the game, and the smile on her face and positivity that radiates from her during every game is a marvel to me. I’m so proud.
Last night’s softball game had us driving 45 minutes east to the small town of King City – population 1,013 – for an 8 o’clock game, and it was a heartbreaker. Batting in the top of the first, our girls came out swinging like they usually have this summer, and Phoebe came up with the bases loaded. If my memory’s right, she worked the pitcher to a full count – and then she smacked a line drive back through the middle of the field. She cleared the bases and landed on second base because of an errant throw – her first hit of the season. The inning ended soon after with our girls up, 3-0. … But then they laid down in the bottom half of the inning and let the home team jump right back into the game, trailing 3-4 when the first inning ended. … No runs crossed in the second and third innings, and our girls finally got their bats going again in the fourth inning. Phoebe’s turn came up again with two outs, and she worked a full count. She barely got a piece of the 3-2 pitch to stay alive and then hit the next pitch on the ground to the shortstop, who made a good play on it and a throw that barely beat Phoebe at first base. The top of the fourth ended with our girls having retaken the lead, 5-4. … Ah, but the game’s not over until it’s over. Despite a strong performance by our third-string pitcher in that final ending – that included her snaring a line drive straight back at her glove – a series of hits and overthrows allowed the home team to win the game in the bottom of the inning, 5-6.
It was past 10 o’clock when we arrived home, and way past Phoebe’s bedtime for a school night. Kates graciously allowed her to sleep in this morning and check into summer school two hours late.
Now it’s me time. The Royals are playing a late game in Los Angeles tonight, giving Kates and I a chance to have the game on for the first time in weeks. She’s reading. I’m writing.
I read this Sam Mellinger column today. And I get it. Sam knows what he’s talking about.
I’ve accepted the fact that Eric Hosmer’s gone – and have taken to watching Padres games occasionally just to see him play.
I’m resigned to the fact that Mike Moustakas will not be a Royal when the trade deadline arrives.
But I shudder to think about the Royals dealing Salvador Perez …
Or even Whit Merrifield, who’s quickly become one of this old second baseman’s favorites. Seriously, Royals second basemen have been pitiful since Frank White – not including Ben Zobrist, who I love watching, too, but he was a rental to help the Royals win a world championship. Call me crazy, but Whit reminds me of a Chicago Cubs second baseman who was a favorite of mine.
I rushed home from work tonight to find the girls on the living room floor and watching TV, Faye dressed and ready to go in her T-ball uniform, and Kates had made a tuna melt for me, waiting beautifully on a plate at my side of the dining table. I had just a few minutes to eat because we had to get Faye to her 5:30 game.
The T-ball game. Faye is always one of the smallest on the field in stature, but she’s also one of the mightiest. Tonight she had the privilege of playing in the pitcher’s circle on the defensive side. And at the start of every inning, she was the first one on the field and down in her crouch, ready to field the ball – even before the first batter had left the opposing dugout. … The same goes for her plate appearances. In the on-deck circle she’s as focused on her practice swings as any of the girls. Then she steps to the plate, waits patiently for Coach to place the ball on the tee, puts the ball into play and puts her head down to run to first base.
While every T-ball game offers a loaded hour of entertainment and teachable moments, tonight’s game included a first baseman who got pegged in the middle of the back when she wasn’t paying attention on a batted ball that the pitcher fielded and threw toward first base. But tonight’s best folly happened when one of Faye’s teammates took off from first base on a foul ball and didn’t hear our coaches trying to stop her until she was halfway between second and third base – and then the batter put the ball in play while the runner was crossing the pitcher’s circle on her way back to first base, which created further commotion as the coaches yelled for her to turn around and head for second base.
* * *
The postgame. Barely a T-ball game of Faye’s has ended this summer without Phoebe asking me on our walk back to the car if I’ll help her practice her softball skills – and of course I won’t turn her down. I’m thrilled she’s enjoying it so much. … So we took Kates and Faye home, grabbed the ball gear and headed back to the ball fields. We practiced her hitting and her pitching for a solid hour, and the improvement she’s showing from the first practice of the season this year is remarkable. We both wished we could have stayed longer – but at that point tonight’s blazing sun was starting to give me heat stroke and Phoebe’s arm was rapidly turning to Jell-O. I had trouble convincing her we needed to head home but she finally gave in.
It’s been pure joy – and a revelation – watching Phoebe learn and play softball this summer. After the ups and downs of coaching her machine pitch team last year, I wasn’t so sure she would stay interested in the game and regretted not starting her earlier with T-ball like Faye. This year, though, she’s embracing the game, and the smile on her face and positivity that radiates from her during every game is a marvel to me. I’m so proud.
Last night’s softball game had us driving 45 minutes east to the small town of King City – population 1,013 – for an 8 o’clock game, and it was a heartbreaker. Batting in the top of the first, our girls came out swinging like they usually have this summer, and Phoebe came up with the bases loaded. If my memory’s right, she worked the pitcher to a full count – and then she smacked a line drive back through the middle of the field. She cleared the bases and landed on second base because of an errant throw – her first hit of the season. The inning ended soon after with our girls up, 3-0. … But then they laid down in the bottom half of the inning and let the home team jump right back into the game, trailing 3-4 when the first inning ended. … No runs crossed in the second and third innings, and our girls finally got their bats going again in the fourth inning. Phoebe’s turn came up again with two outs, and she worked a full count. She barely got a piece of the 3-2 pitch to stay alive and then hit the next pitch on the ground to the shortstop, who made a good play on it and a throw that barely beat Phoebe at first base. The top of the fourth ended with our girls having retaken the lead, 5-4. … Ah, but the game’s not over until it’s over. Despite a strong performance by our third-string pitcher in that final ending – that included her snaring a line drive straight back at her glove – a series of hits and overthrows allowed the home team to win the game in the bottom of the inning, 5-6.
It was past 10 o’clock when we arrived home, and way past Phoebe’s bedtime for a school night. Kates graciously allowed her to sleep in this morning and check into summer school two hours late.
* * *
Now it’s me time. The Royals are playing a late game in Los Angeles tonight, giving Kates and I a chance to have the game on for the first time in weeks. She’s reading. I’m writing.
I read this Sam Mellinger column today. And I get it. Sam knows what he’s talking about.
I’ve accepted the fact that Eric Hosmer’s gone – and have taken to watching Padres games occasionally just to see him play.
I’m resigned to the fact that Mike Moustakas will not be a Royal when the trade deadline arrives.
But I shudder to think about the Royals dealing Salvador Perez …
Or even Whit Merrifield, who’s quickly become one of this old second baseman’s favorites. Seriously, Royals second basemen have been pitiful since Frank White – not including Ben Zobrist, who I love watching, too, but he was a rental to help the Royals win a world championship. Call me crazy, but Whit reminds me of a Chicago Cubs second baseman who was a favorite of mine.
5.10.2018
Play ball!
T-ball and softball season is in full swing now.
We’ve been at the ballfield nearly every Monday through Thursday night since mid-April. After last year’s experiment with Phoebe playing in the machine pitch softball league for the first time and me coaching her team, Phoebe advanced to a full-fledged girls softball league and I’m much more content as an assistant. Faye, meanwhile, is playing T-ball again and I’m helping coach her team again with my good friend, Tim. On some nights, I’ve picked up Faye from school and whisked her home for supper and then to the ballfield for practice – while Kates took care of picking up Phoebe and bringing her to practice a couple hours later. Then Kates took Faye home while I stayed to help with Phoebe’s practice.
Tonight was Faye’s first T-ball game. And the 4 and 5-year-olds keep it interesting for sure.
Game time was 5:30. Which means Kates was making a pit stop to grab supper for all of us at Sonic around 4:50 as I was breaking from my office to head for home. All of us arrived at home simultaneously around 5 and were immediately challenged with corralling Faye, who was more interested in sharing her latest kindergarten artwork with us than with eating her supper and getting ready for her game. Eventually, we succeeded and got her seated at the dining table. She ate her summer, dressed in her uniform, and we left the house at 5:26 … Good thing the sports complex is only a couple minutes from our house.
As Faye and I were walking up to one of the fields at 5:30, a pair of girls dashed in front of us toward the bathroom to change into their uniforms while the rest of the team was assembling in their dugout. Then a girl with a blue shirt joined our team – which has purple shirts – in the dugout. Tim thought she was one of ours and maybe she hadn’t gotten her uniform.
“Remind me of your name, honey,” Tim said.
The little girl was preoccupied with the other girls and wasn’t engaging with Tim.
“Where’s your mom sitting,” he asked, hoping he could get Mom to help.
“She’s over there,” the girl said, pointing across the field to the first base side.
All of us coaches looked to the first base side and suddenly noticed the team – dressed in blue shirts – warming up on the other side of the field. This girl had come to the wrong dugout. We all had a good laugh and directed her to where she belonged.
We finally got the girls organized and placed where they belonged. Tim rattled off a batting lineup and we began the game.
Faye batted first and slapped her ball off the team and up the middle of the diamond. She advanced to one base at a time as each successive batter took their turns hitting the ball from the tee and arrived at home base a short time later.
Faye did the same thing during her second at-bat. We got through two full innings before our hour time-limit was up. And by that time, we’d lost about a quarter of our team because they needed a bathroom break.
Tim handed out a bottle of Gatorade and a pack of baseball cards to each of the girls during a team huddle after the game. He hands out the baseball cards and tells the girls to study the pictures to help them learn how to hit, catch and throw.
Everyone walked away smiling.
We’ve been at the ballfield nearly every Monday through Thursday night since mid-April. After last year’s experiment with Phoebe playing in the machine pitch softball league for the first time and me coaching her team, Phoebe advanced to a full-fledged girls softball league and I’m much more content as an assistant. Faye, meanwhile, is playing T-ball again and I’m helping coach her team again with my good friend, Tim. On some nights, I’ve picked up Faye from school and whisked her home for supper and then to the ballfield for practice – while Kates took care of picking up Phoebe and bringing her to practice a couple hours later. Then Kates took Faye home while I stayed to help with Phoebe’s practice.
Tonight was Faye’s first T-ball game. And the 4 and 5-year-olds keep it interesting for sure.
Game time was 5:30. Which means Kates was making a pit stop to grab supper for all of us at Sonic around 4:50 as I was breaking from my office to head for home. All of us arrived at home simultaneously around 5 and were immediately challenged with corralling Faye, who was more interested in sharing her latest kindergarten artwork with us than with eating her supper and getting ready for her game. Eventually, we succeeded and got her seated at the dining table. She ate her summer, dressed in her uniform, and we left the house at 5:26 … Good thing the sports complex is only a couple minutes from our house.
As Faye and I were walking up to one of the fields at 5:30, a pair of girls dashed in front of us toward the bathroom to change into their uniforms while the rest of the team was assembling in their dugout. Then a girl with a blue shirt joined our team – which has purple shirts – in the dugout. Tim thought she was one of ours and maybe she hadn’t gotten her uniform.
“Remind me of your name, honey,” Tim said.
The little girl was preoccupied with the other girls and wasn’t engaging with Tim.
“Where’s your mom sitting,” he asked, hoping he could get Mom to help.
“She’s over there,” the girl said, pointing across the field to the first base side.
All of us coaches looked to the first base side and suddenly noticed the team – dressed in blue shirts – warming up on the other side of the field. This girl had come to the wrong dugout. We all had a good laugh and directed her to where she belonged.
We finally got the girls organized and placed where they belonged. Tim rattled off a batting lineup and we began the game.
Faye batted first and slapped her ball off the team and up the middle of the diamond. She advanced to one base at a time as each successive batter took their turns hitting the ball from the tee and arrived at home base a short time later.
Faye did the same thing during her second at-bat. We got through two full innings before our hour time-limit was up. And by that time, we’d lost about a quarter of our team because they needed a bathroom break.
Tim handed out a bottle of Gatorade and a pack of baseball cards to each of the girls during a team huddle after the game. He hands out the baseball cards and tells the girls to study the pictures to help them learn how to hit, catch and throw.
Everyone walked away smiling.
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