Fencing woes and superb shows.
The fence is the bane of my existence.
Having spent 4 hours last weekend to prevent the electric fence from grounding out in the lovely snow drifts here on the farm, I am dismayed to report that the result of the effort was absolutely nothing. Though I really had thought that I had corrected any potential problems, the fence still is not energized as it should be, and naughty horse Mirelle is regularly stepping over and through it to explore other pastures and eat other horses’ grain. Fortunately she is cute and eating horse is frowned upon in our culture.
The upside of this past week was a trek made with several friends on Friday to the Barrymore Theatre in Madison to see my all-time favorite musicians, They Might Be Giants.
Opening act Oppenheimer (two fellows from Belfast with an amazing ability to switch instruments within songs, creating very rich and unexpected sounds) were an absolute delight. We were fortunate in that we spent several minutes chatting the young fellows up while purchasing their debut album at the close of the evening.
The featured act, They Might be Giants (TMBG) have been around for about 20 years now, the biggest band that no one has heard of (unless you watch Malcolm in the Middle, for which they wrote and performed the theme song a few years back). I stumbled across them way back in the very early 90’s and have enjoyed their particular blend of “geek rock” lyrics, the use of the accordion and trumpet and ridiculously upbeat melodies through 8 albums and 7 live shows to as of Friday. My friends had never heard of them, but came along to appease the blond farm girl.
With tunes espousing the virtues of James K. Polk (our 11th president) and James Ensor (the Belgian painter), giving scientific explanation of how the sun works and benefits us, an exploration of the earth via alphabetized lists of the countries on the planet sung to a snappy tune, and lyrics so irreverent that one wonders how they could possibly have come to light (for example, a worm who likes to play the drums) TMBG is the pinnacle of musical happiness to me. Who needs prescription drugs with these guys around!
A bit of friendly Lou Dobbs bashing lightened my mood still further as did several well placed barbs aimed toward our fearless leader, W. (My friend who is the most staunch conservative on the planet was not terribly pleased, but the crowd on this night was with me all of the way, and I did warn her that she was entering Liberal-Land).
Here I will do something I have never done before… encourage you, dear reader to visit:
or, even better you can listen to TMBG via their streaming “clock radio”
This is a good point to segue into another concert story…
Two weeks ago the Royal Scottish Dragoon and Coldstream Guards Bands played at our very own Grand Theater. A client had taken me along as a guest (I love pipes and men in kilts, so it was a natural fit), and we truly had a lovely evening.
After the show, another friend and I happened across two members of the band (one of whom I had spoken with during the interval at the show) at Denny’s.
Learning that both were fascinated with the American cowboy and were searching for Western bars and/or shops, we were convinced that we should take them to a local shop that sells Western tack and clothing (though neither of us like Western anything - other than omelette’s).
The shopping trip was incredibly funny - English lads who guard Buckingham Palace trying on all sorts of cowboy boots and hats. The fellows definitely supported our local economy in purchasing several hundred dollars worth of clothing.
We next took them to my friend Malinda’s home - she has a BIG truck, the idea riding in which was of such fascination to one of the fellows that we couldn’t deny him the pleasure.
In appreciation for our day together, the lads gave us tickets for their show the next evening in Appleton. Since Malinda had not seen them previously and I had so thoroughly enjoyed the performance I had seen, it was a treat indeed.
We were seated in the first balcony and much to our surprise, the lads came and got us at the interval so we could watch the rest of the show from the wings. Delightful! I met several of the Scots in kilts and had one of the Coldstream Guard’s bearskin hats placed upon my head (the tall, funny black hats that the Buckingham Palace guards wear).
Back on the farm we are dealing with reality, but the break was wonderful!
Dino, if you are reading this - how about working with the lads at the Fillmore and booking TMBG for my birthday next year??
Fab Al said:
I just wanted to let you know these stories are great.
March 2nd, 2008 at 6:48 pm #