I'm an old guy. I remember black and white television, rotary phones, transistor radios, carbon paper, mimeograph machines and typewriters. I've been fortunate enough to live through the most intense technological and cultural G-Force in the history of civilization. I noticed one of those sneaky changes while watching an OSU football game last weekend. I usually end up watching by myself, which I don't mind because I like to concentrate on the game, but I did have a tradition of making quick calls to my Dad or a fellow Buckeye fan at those dramatic moments before, during and after a game to share the experience. Now, I find myself texting instead of calling. A quick "Woohoo!" or "I blame Tressel" or "Thank you Football Jesus". It feeds into my creative writing addiction and using the phone to actually call someone these days just seems so...intrusive. But because my Dad and some old friends aren't hip to the texting thing, I don't share the games with them like I used to. Ironically, I find myself concentrating on typing and then missing parts of the game from which I would normally hate being distracted by conversation. It's insidious. I need to check myself and get back to the good old days of forcing someone to answer the phone and painfully listen to me scream.
Thursday, tonight, Brainbow and Beaten Awake are at Carabar. I heard Carrie Rodriguez on CBE this afternoon and she sounds worth the price of admission at Circus. Bop du Fway is at Dick's and Psychedelic Horseshit, a band I should probably give another listen to, is at Oldfield's.
Friday, Death by Banjo is at Byrne's early, Brasileira is at Dick's. There is a benefit for WCRS at Oldfield's, Ravari has Earwig, Rumba has what sounds like an interesting show with Assembly of Dust and Bum Wealthy, Daycreeper performs with headliner Digital Leather at The Summit. Another show that sounds promising is Jon Jack Talcum of the Dead Milkmen and Jeff Fernagel doing an early show at the Treehouse. Miss Molly teams up with Apocalypso at Victorian's.
Saturday, Dick's has Fox 'n' Hounds, Treehouse has Second State Butchers, Columbus Power Squadron and Sue Harshe, but my pick of a show to hopefully celebrate another whooping of Meeshagun would be Harper Simon, Paul's son, and the fabulous Woody Pines at Rumba.
Sunday, Randy Mather and Jim Maneri are at Dick's. My friend, Jyllian Tricot, is having a bit of a book release party around 5 PM at Z Cucina on Grandview Ave. with a little musical help from Bob Sauls. I've been waiting to read her memoir of sex, drugs and Temporal Lobe Epilepsy for a long time. I had to convince her to keep the title, "Saved for the Demon".
Tuesday, Old Hundred is at the Treehouse.
Wednesday, Brad Caulkins of The Sun returns from L.A. with his band, Fool's Gold at The Summit. Gotta be good. Former Sun band-mate, Sam Brown, opens with his band, You're So Bossy.
Get back. Get back. Get back to where you once belonged. mark