as October wanes and the temperatures get more full of bite, there’s still a rash of good soccer to play. the weekend means The Adidas Blue Chip Invitational, then we there’s a couple of league games left to assure that we win the MRL and we wind up in Raleigh in November at the CASL Boy’s Shootout to finish up the most hectic soccer season that boy has ever been a privy to. here’s to finishing out with a ton of effort, some balls in the net and and a trophy or two. #lfc #8 #bringthenoise
september 11 is an indelible smudge on the calendar. tragedy, horror, death, dirt, anger and the start of a slow, lingering move towards a new now. one of paranoia, fighting straw men and security, oh, yes, the security. we all wept for the dead and dying on that day, but little did we know that small parts of all of us were being laid to rubble, as well. metaphorically, for sure, and i surely know that is nothing compared to losing one you loved or knew–but our actual freedoms were given a bit of a sentence to die a much more slow and agonizing death. and the terrorists didn’t do that, we did it willingly. you know, for our own good.
but i am not going to use this day to grumble or to do more than remember those who passed on planes and in buildings and streets and leave it at that. oh, and recognize this as the day after the USA defeated Mexico to capture a trip to the World Cup. so maybe for at least a little while today, 9/11/13 can symbolize accomplishment not something more sinister.
i have to tell you, big festivals are really no way to enjoy bands, music, beer, food, soil, water or casual sex. maybe i am just old but i find myself staring at the damn video screens instead of the stage, i just cannot connect to the bands. spoiled by a youth of booking bands, playing in a band, eating with bands, and generally being bored with bands before being blown away by bands who were literally sharing my sweat, spit and spite the whole festival thing ultimately leaves me a little cold. not that i don’t appreciate the whole overpriced flea market appeal of it all but $10 Sierra Nevada’s and taco truck lines sure ain’t for old punks. give me a draft, a chair and a band i’ve never heard of within throwing distance, in a room of a couple dozen enthusiastic know-it-alls and i’d be more tickled…you know, just how we used to see The Black Keys. i’m guessing, inside, the boys in the band feel the same way.
Patrick Carney @patrickcarney of The Black Keys on a video screen at Forecastle Festival.
in times of stress, strain or angst, look for a mermaid, an open shop or a cheap t-shirt. guaranteed to help.
rain or shine, darkness or light, pack yours for recluse and potential weather of extreme-style conditions.