Marillion Weekend 2011, April 8-10th, Montreal, Quebec - Part 2

Part 2 – Saturday, April 9th

I awoke the next morning to the sound of something pounding. In a bit of a daze, I started to come around to what one might call consciousness. It was then that I realized that someone was rapping on my door very persistently.

I managed to yell out a garbled, “What?!” The answer came back in French, of course, and I could only assume that it was someone there to do the housekeeping. I answered with a loud and slightly annoyed “No thank you!” With that, the person went away.

I tried to fall back asleep but that just didn't seem possible. It was pretty bright in the room and now I was wide awake due to all the housekeeping drumming on my door. And so, I gave up and decided to start the day.

As I got out of bed I realized just how dehydrated I was. This was bad news since I wanted coffee at the same time which ultimately dehydrates you even more.

I whipped out my laptop and found the nearest Starbucks. It wasn’t exactly near, mind you, but not entirely far either. It was within walking distance but a bit of a hike, just the same. I cleaned myself up and ventured out in search of it.

Venturing up Rue St. Denis, I walked through an area that I had never been before filled with all sorts of little restaurants, shops...you name it. I glanced at a few menus but nothing really seemed to be terribly extraordinary, although you never know until you try it.

I finally found Starbucks. The walk seemed farther than I thought and I was definitely ready for some liquids. I went up to the door and nearly walked into it when it didn’t open. I pulled at the door a couple times and it was locked. Hmm… Yes, there was another door around the corner! There were a bunch of people sitting outside watching me trying to get through a locked door with the usual look of confusion.

I grabbed a big bottle of water and ordered a medium coffee. The transaction was fairly painless although I was shocked when my coffee came to me without a lid. I made a silent deduction but figured I'd ask just the same. “Are the lids over there?” I asked, pointing towards the small counter where the creamer and stirrers are, pretty much already knowing the answer. The girl behind the counter shook her head, more or less wondering how I didn’t already know that.

These signs were all over the city.  I found them kind of amusing.

From here, next on my list was to find an ATM. The only one I knew precisely where it was located was back by the restaurant that I had skipped out on the previous evening. I walked over in that direction, passing various people standing around, talking, and doing other odd things that I was unsure about, and did my best to sip both coffee and water in turn.

I found the sign to the bank but couldn’t find the actual door. All I found was a strange little ramp that looked like it led up to a service entrance. Sure enough, that ended up being the door to the bank.

I went up to the ATM, hoping it would be in English, which it was, and proceeded to withdraw some much needed cash. When the transaction was done, the machine thanked me and never spit out a receipt. Ugh.

It was around noon time at this point and I was getting pretty hungry. I always get a bit anxious going into the metro the first time, even though I’ve done it countless times before. I’m not sure why that is. Perhaps I have metro-a-phobia, who knows. I just kept telling myself, “Don’t fear the metro. Don’t fear the metro.” It became my momentary mantra.

There really is nothing to fear about the metro except, as always, the fear of looking like a total idiot when you’re not used to how to do things. I’ve learned in my modest travels to different countries that, in order to travel successfully, you just need to accept that you WILL indeed look like an idiot for awhile until you get acquainted with things. And, of course, somebody like myself just seems to be a magnet for looking like an idiot.

This particular metro station has a very long walkway that curves around a few times. I passed a busker that was singing some terrible song. I considered paying him so that he’d stop but figured that wouldn’t translate correctly.

Upon reaching the metro gates, I silently hoped that my 1 day pass still worked like it should. I approached the turnstyle and with my left hand swiped my transit pass. A bright green light went off and made a slighty pleasant beeping noise. Hurray! It worked! I walked forward to go through the turnstyle and quickly came to a dead halt; the turnstyle would not turn and was like running into a wall. I was confused…um…it glowed green…um… Here’s where that looking like an idiot thing that I mentioned comes in to play. I tried swiping my card again and quickly got a red light with a “you screwed up” sort of noise. I stood there a moment, thinking. Wait…maybe I need to pass through on the left side of the swiper! Maybe?! I repositioned myself and sure enough, that was the issue. I then looked around me and saw the usual small group of onlookers watching me in mild amusement and confusion.

The metro overall is a really funny place. There’s evidently an unspoken rule that while riding on a metro that you can’t ever smile nor make any sort of eye contact. Everyone sits in a total daze, staring at some non-existent object, and tries their best to look as unhappy as possible. Is this what mass transit is all about? I’m honestly not sure. It certainly does create some strange situations. If you’re a straight man and you make eye contact with a woman, you’re perceived as a potential pervert or predator; if you make eye contact with a man, you’re probably gay. If you’re a gay man and you make eye contact with a woman, you’re still potentially a pervert and a threat; if you make eye contact with a man, well, I’m not really sure what happens then. Either way, it’s probably best not to make eye contact period.

I had decided that I would journey out to a place called Maamm Bolduc that I found online listed as having the best poutine in Montreal. The place was only a couple metro stations out but then would be what I thought would be a short walk. They were listed as having a great breakfast but I wasn’t sure if I was up for eggs and such at this point since it was closer to 1pm.

The walk ended up being much further than I thought which seemed to be the flavor of the day. To make matters worse, it started to lightly drizzle and I kept hoping it wouldn't all out pour while I was stranded walking. The walk was mostly through a residential area and occasionally I passed various people on the sidewalk. I really wasn’t all that sure where I was going but I did occasionally glance at my map to make sure I was on the right track. I just couldn’t figure out how a restaurant would be located amongst a bunch of apartments and such.

At this point I was starving. My coffee was gone and quite a bit of my water was gone as well. Would I ever eat?

I finally found the restaurant, tucked in with a bunch of other various businesses and such. It was a small place on the ground floor of some sort of housing structure with a lot of tables in a small sized patio area. There were a few people simply standing around outside, looking on in total confusion, and I wasn’t exactly sure if they were in a line to be seated or what. I couldn’t find any actual organization nor did anyone from the restaurant ever come up to these people. I decided to take charge and simply walk inside.

I found a small table and had a seat. The place was pretty crammed and the next table was literally only about 3 inches from mine. I was also sitting right next to the cash register which provided a lot of noise and traffic.

The menu was huge. I’d have to guess that it had about 30 pages in it in book form. I kept going through it over and over, confused on what to order. Luckily, it was mostly in English.

My server finally arrived and I ordered a tofu dog. “We’re all out of those,” he said. Clearly he was in a hurry since he was only one of two servers in the place. “I do have veggie burgers.” I wasn’t really in the mood for a veggie burger but I just went with it. I also ordered the vegetarian poutine in the smaller petite size since it had been said that the larger size was enough for four people.

It took quite awhile to get the food and I did what I could to keep myself occupied. When the food finally arrived, the veggie burger looked more homemade than, say, a Gardenburger, and the poutine was extremely large for being a “petite”. The food was good, decent quality and all, but didn’t exactly knock me out or anything. I remain fairly neutral about poutine to this day.

Once I was done, I had the pleasure of making the walk back to the metro station. This wasn’t a totally bad idea since I was pretty full and needed to walk some of the food off anyhow.

By the time I got back to my hotel I nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Wow! I do more walking in Montreal in a single weekend than I probably do in 6 months! Now, to be fair, I could actually ride the bus around town on the side streets but I really have an enormous phobia about buses. I just won’t go there unless I absolutely have to. Don’t ask me to explain it; I don’t get it either, really.

On the way in to my hotel I made a point to get a “Do Not Disturb” sign. I also asked the question that had been on my mind for awhile. “Are movies here in English or in French?” The answer was could be either and make sure you ask first which wasn’t very reassuring.

I should mention that two years previously I was having some sort of issue where I, well, couldn’t stop going to the restroom. This time around I seemed to be the opposite. Evidently, Montreal and my gastrointestinal system don’t get along very well.

I laid down on the bed and hoped to just veg awhile with some television. Only about 3 out of 30 channels were in English which quickly narrowed down my choices. I found a baseball game to watch but only half of the screen was displaying on my small 4:3 television. The picture was perfectly cut that I couldn’t even see the score.

It was then that it dawned on me that I had my laptop with me. Ah ha! I could stream Netflix! Hurray! I can watch whatever I want! I quickly logged in and went to the Netflix site just to get a large banner saying, “We notice that you’re currently in Canada. Netflix products cannot be streamed outside of the USA due to copyright reasons.” How deflating.

It was now around 3pm and I had quite a few hours to kill before the show that night. I had eaten my first meal late enough in the day that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to eat again before the show. Great planning on my part! So, what to do… I knew I didn’t want to walk and sightsee anymore. I couldn’t watch TV. And so, I decided to check the movie listings. I found an AMC Theatre that was right off the metro line and found that both “Of Gods and Men” and “Jane Eyre” were playing in about an hour’s time. Per the website, the former was subtitled in English and the latter was in English.

I was really quite exhausted but wasn’t sure if I could actually sleep. I debated and debated in my usual fashion. By the time I decided to go the movie, I was now running late and needed to get moving pretty quickly. Such is my life.

Once again, I was walking to the metro station, half in a daze. It was then that I realized that it really is much more important to choose a hotel that’s very close to the metro versus being close to the theater that Marillion performs at. A good mental note for next time, that is, if I do decide to come back.

I got off at the appropriate metro station and it started to look familiar. I had been here two years prior and remembered how confusing this station was. You basically get off in the heart of what looks like a shopping mall and trying to find your way out is a bit of a trick. I did the best thing I knew to do; follow the natives since they know the way.

I left the shopping mall area and crossed the street. I saw a huge sign saying AMC Theatres but couldn’t find the entrance at first. After sorting that out, once inside, it was quite strange. The movie was also just starting per my watch.

I purchased my ticket and it ended up being $13.50 Canadian! Yikes! I went through the little gate over to the concession stand. I ordered a medium popcorn and coke. The popcorn looked smaller than a small in the US. I guess we really are gluttonous in America.

The toppings are different as well. The primary toppings were liquid cheddar cheese, sour cream and onion, etc. It took me awhile to find just plain old butter which was hidden off to the side.

Next, I had to take an elevator…not an escalator…to get to the movie theater itself. It felt very odd standing inside an elevator holding a small bag of popcorn and a coke, staring at other people.

I entered the theater and just took a seat near the front. No one was around me…perfect. It seemed like I had made a good choice after all about the movie.

Once the movie began, I realized that I was hearing a ton of noise from passersby in the lobby. Apparently they don’t close the theater doors when the movie starts. This became very annoying and distracting.

Even worse, though, someone kept coughing literally every 10-20 seconds. No joke. I could have set my watch to it. I looked around to see where it was coming from. Literally down the same row as mine but on the opposite side of the theater sat a mom with a very young girl. It was the girl that was coughing. Well, she did that, no kidding, through the ENTIRE movie! Cough, cough, nose slurp, cough, nose slurp, cough, cough… It was nearly impossible to focus on the film.

About midway through the film, I heard very loud voices from out in the lobby area talking, slowly getting louder as they were apparently getting closer. They came in to our theater, talking at peak volume the entire time, all the way through the small hallway and in to the theater. Once completely inside the theater, a man’s voice said, “Is this the right theater?” again at full volume. They started having a conversation until someone in the theater shushed them up. Wow.

As soon as the movie ended, I raced out of the theater and into the restroom. I was, as usual, now pressed for time to make it back to the hotel, change, freshen up a bit, and then make it to the nights’ performance on time.

Back to the metro I went and barely missed the train. Upon waiting for the next one, I heard a distinctive cough behind me. I turned around and it was the freakin’ mom with her coughing/slurping daughter again! When the train I arrived, I made sure to get in a car that was far away from theirs.

I got back to my hotel and shortly after left again for L’Olympia. As I walked I noticed that the crazies were definitely out this night. Montreal seems to be filled with them! Especially around the Berri-UQAM metro station, I passed multiple people talking to themselves, staring at walls, yelling at invisible people, and who knows what else.

I barely walked into the theater and the lights went down, as if on cue. Evening #2’s performance was underway!


 H announced early on that this evening’s performance was called “A to Z Night”, meaning that they would run through the entire alphabet and play a song that starts with the specified letter, that is, with a few exceptions. It seemed like a pretty cool idea to me.

This show turned out to be absolutely incredible, completely on par with the shows from two years prior. I basically stood in the same area as always and seemed to be surrounded by people who were really into the show versus playing air guitar, etc., like the night prior. The show was also very long, like around three hours in length including the very short intermissions. Marillion as a whole really puts a lot into these shows and it’s quite incredible to see.

One interesting tidbit during this evening was before the song “Especially True”, a track from the latest album “Happiness is the Road”. H announced to the audience, “This song is a sort of naïve Englishmen’s perspective of America….and so we apologize to America beforehand.” A woman then yelled out angrily, “They deserve it!!!” Half the crowd fell completely silent and dumbfounded, more than likely the American half. It really put in perspective how Canada and perhaps the rest of the world feels about the US these days.

During the first intermission, a guy was going through the audience handing out lyric sheets for the song “Jigsaw” which is an old tune off of “Fugazi” back from the Fish era. He kept saying, “The next song is audience participation. H doesn’t sing!” The weird part is that I think everyone thought he was just some quack audience member rather than someone that worked for the band so therefore few people took the lyric sheets. It wasn’t until the band came back on that it all made sense.

Here’s the set list and this one should be pretty accurate:

Asylum Satellite #1
Born to Run
Cannibal Surf Babe
Deserve
Especially True
Fantastic Place
Gazpacho
Half the World
(I stood for intermission)

Jigsaw (audience singing)
King
The Last Century for Man
Marbles III
No Such Thing
The Only Unforgivable Thing
Pseudo Silk Kimono
Quartz
The Release
Sugar Mice
Three Minute Boy

Under the Sun
A Voice from the Past
The Wound

(X stood for eXtra intermission)
You’re Gone
Zeparated Out (a Zeppelin infused version of “Separated Out”)

On my way out of the theater I distinctly heard someone doing a heck of a lot of swearing. Sure enough, I turned around and it was the Toronto guy again. I’d recognize that swearing anywhere! “That was f***in’ awesome! Can you f***in’ believe that?! They played f***in’ ‘Sugar Mice’! I mean, they played f***in’ ‘Sugar Mice’!” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

I also ended up following the same guy back to the hotel from the previous night. We both got into the elevator, looked at one another, and then he asked, “Did you just come from the show?” I said, “Yes. Didn’t I run in to you last night as well?”

I got into my room and drank my now nightly 5 Alive, trying to replenish some of my lost fluids from sweating so much again at the show. I turned the TV on and did my best to find something to watch briefly as I tried to mellow out. I found Saturday Night Live but I personally dislike that show. I searched for something different and found “The Exorcist”…AND it was in English. Now that’s more like it. What a day!

Marillion Weekend 2011, April 8-10th, Montreal Quebec - Part 1

Part 1 – Friday, April 8th

Some of you may remember my excursion to Montreal in 2009 for the first Marillion Weekend that was ever held on North American soil. It ended up being quite the event and was really a rather fantastic trip, putting aside my persistent stomach issues and not feeling well. I decided to go again this year and here’s my account of the trip.

This will be, like the articles from two years ago, another three part series in order to account for the entire trip. I know some of you are not Marillion fans and so these articles equally focus on the shows as well as me, the trip, and the goofy things that tend to happen. Having said that, I still highly recommend checking out Marillion at http://www.marillion.com/ for anyone that is not familiar with the band. I believe they’re still offering free sampler CD’s to newbies, if you’re at all interested.

I’ll admit up front that I wasn’t looking forward to this trip as much as last time. Maybe it was too soon, meaning, after all, it had only been two years previously. Maybe it was because the trip kind of snuck up on me unexpectedly, only a few days after the snow melted and the weather finally cleared to make way for spring back home. Either way, I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy this time around and that made me a bit nervous.

I had booked my flight information very early so I hardly could recall what I had planned for. Upon looking at it again, I was less than thrilled with my selections. My departing flight was decent but I was set to do the same thing I did last time which was arrive late afternoon and then inevitably be in a rush to get to the first Marillion show that evening, the first of three. Even worse, my return flight wasn’t until Monday afternoon and I couldn’t figure out my logic there either. Why do I do this? That’s just it…I can’t remember why I booked it this way. That’s old age speaking.

I hadn’t been sleeping well all week and the night before I left was the worst yet. I was terribly tired to the point that my eyes were itchy, red, and hurt mildly. What a way to begin the trip!

My flight out was pretty routine. Small plane, small seats, and filled mostly with people speaking French because, well, we were headed to Montreal, after all. All I wanted to do was to get on the plane and be able to sleep.

As usual, I was on the plane before the person sitting next to me. I always take a window seat and this particular sized plane only has 2 seats per side. My “neighbor” finally arrived and stood in the aisle a few moments. He very abruptly dropped his magazine onto the seat cushion and it lazily flopped onto the ground. I sat and stared at it momentarily. Should I pick it up for this guy? I kind of figured that by the time I made a decision that he would already be going for it but for some reason he wasn’t. A long uncomfortable couple of moments passed as I debated in my head, and then finally I picked it up and placed it nicely on his seat. He looked at me, smiled gently, and offered an extremely quiet, “thank you,” more mouthed than actually spoken.

When he was finally ready to sit down, he bent over, put his butt in the air, and attempted to plop into his seat except that he missed and landed more or less on my arm, then the armrest, and then into his seat, basically dragging his butt down my left arm. Lovely! Yes, this is what I was looking forward to. You’ve got to love air travel, I tell you!

He didn’t say another word to me for the rest of the flight. In fact, I don’t think he looked at me once after that which was sort of okay since all I wanted to do was sleep. Well, that wasn’t going to happen either, at least not much. He fidgeted the entire trip, more or less suddenly getting up slightly, repositioning himself in his seat and bumping the armrest between us, which then woke me up. This occurred over and over, like every 5-10 minutes. I would barely get my eyes closed, fall asleep, and whammo. Fantastic! Getting better all the time!

He also read his magazine, some business journal, religiously through the entire trip, or at least when I had my eyes open. It was amazing. I’ve never seen anyone so glued to something before. Even when the flight attendant would come by and ask a question, he would simply reply by staring at the magazine rather than making eye contact.

Right before we landed, we were asked to fill out our customs forms and, as usual, I didn’t have a pen with me. The guy next to me, though, had one that he had placed into the seat holder after he was done using it. I politely asked him if I could use his pen and he literally took it out of the holder, handed it to me, and didn’t look up from his magazine once. Wow. It was almost impressive. I used his pen, filled out my form, and then handed it back, saying thank you. He nodded at his magazine without a word.

We landed at the airport and got off the plane by walking down the built-in stairwell of the plane, something we don’t do often anymore in the US. It was extremely steep so I understand why we don’t! Then began the enormous trek to the customs booth. If you’ve ever landed in Montreal before, you’ll probably remember being herded like cattle for what seems like blocks before you get to the customs area. Once there, you queue like at Disneyland to get through customs.

The officer I went to apparently was having a bad day. She asked me where I was coming from and I totally blanked. “Um…” I said like a fool, and then it dawned on me, “Oh, um, Minnesota!” Believe it or not, she still let me through, although I grabbed my passport and started walking way. “Um, sir!” she yelled at me. I turned around to see that she was handing me my customs form back. “Oh!” I grabbed the form and she simply glared at me with the face of death. Geesh, tough crowd!

I carried on my baggage so I didn’t need to worry about picking anything up at baggage claim. Per the documentation that I had looked at previously, I needed to catch the 747 Express bus to downtown Montreal and I could buy an STM pass (transit pass) at the Currency desk. I found the Currency desk and asked for an STM pass. Apparently, it was the wrong Currency desk and so I left a bit confused.

Next, there was a huge line at the exit. I couldn’t figure out why at first but it’s because you need to hand your customs form to yet another officer in order to exit. It was a terrible way to queue a bunch of people but that seems to be the norm in Montreal, from at least what I’ve seen. Once I managed to get through the exit, I found yet another Currency desk, all the while hoping that this would be the correct one. I could also see the 747 Express bus waiting outside the airport so I felt a bit more confident.

The Currency desk was completely enshrouded with plastic with no actual holes in it to talk through. The only opening was at the bottom where you could pass money back and forth. I asked the man in the booth if I could buy an STM pass. He responded and I could see his lips move but absolutely no sound was heard. I politely said, “I can’t hear you,” and so he started raising his voice but mostly speaking French and/or with a strong accent. Oh boy, here we go…

And so, we went back and forth, him not understanding me and I not understanding him. I asked for a 1 day and a 3 day pass and asked if they take credit card. He said that they only accepted cash. I asked if he accepted American dollars, which was the only thing I had on me at this point, and he said yes but seemed to be confused about how much it was. He came up with $37, which seems wrong to me in hindsight, and I handed him two $20 bills. He seemed really confused by them and asked, “Is this forty?” This, of course, confused the hell out of me, I mean, he was the currency exchange after all. I said, “Yes, it’s forty.” He reluctantly took it, handed me the passes, and very little change. I felt like I had just been ripped off but who knows. I know the American dollar is down in comparison to the Canadian dollar but what did I know. It really hits home how bad the American economy is when the Canadian dollar is worth a bit more.

I exited the airport and boarded the 747 Express bus. There was a machine at the front of the bus where you evidently had to swipe your STM pass. I was the first person on the bus so I didn’t have the opportunity to watch someone else do it. And so, like an idiot, I was trying to swipe the card at the wrong spot, wondering why it wasn’t working. Here I am, waving my card around over this large piece of plastic, expecting some sort of magic to happen, while the bus driver sat and watched me with a puzzled look on his face. He finally grew tired of seeing me act the fool and so he pointed at the correct place to put the card while saying something loudly in French. I swiped the card and sure enough, a little green light went on with a pleasant “bleep” sound.

I placed my luggage in the rack and took a seat. One by one people piled onto the bus until it was wall to wall people. They sure know how to pack them in, let me tell you. One other person wasn’t sure what to do with their STM card so it evidently wasn’t just me. A little while later, the bus took off over the rough roads towards downtown Montreal.

It was then that I noticed a guy wearing sunglasses who was wearing a Marillion t-shirt. I had been wondering if I’d bump into any other fans along the way. I don’t normally wear any band paraphernalia, except my own, ironically, and so I travel pretty much undercover, if you will. There was a couple sitting almost directly across from me that looked rather confused. They were in their early 50’s and looked extremely hip for their age. They didn’t look French Canadian to me but instead possibly English. The man took out a map of the metro and they both did their best to interpret it. He especially looked at it with a very puzzled look on his face as he turned the map different directions.

A little while later, the man turned to the guy in the Marillion t-shirt and said, “I see your shirt. You’re going to Weekend I suppose, eh?” They in turn started up a conversation which I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on. It took all of a couple seconds to hear the couples’ accent to know they were from the UK. A little while later, the man said, “Well, we’re from England and we just saw the Marillion Weekend in Amsterdam last month. So, we decided to come here and make a vacation of it.” Ah, yes, English, just like I thought. Damn I’m good. The couple turned out to be named Oliver and Lynn and I eventually butted my own way into the conversation. Next thing you know, the topic of Marillion took over the 747 bus. It was kind of cool, at least to those of us in on the conversation.

Just like last time, it seemed to take forever to get to downtown. Along the way, the bus passed by what seemed like endless pits of destruction filled with torn up concrete, buildings perhaps blown to bits, etc. I distinctly remember this from the last trip as well. It seems that Montreal always looks to be in a state of disarray, like some war just ripped through the city but managed to stay out of the news. A bit later, after entering the downtown area, the bus finally arrived at my stop and I exited with my suitcase. I only had a short walk and there was the Days Inn Centreville. Nice and convenient!

I checked in and went up to my room. My room was on the 2nd floor and was located right along the street with large glass windows. At first, this seemed cool; later on, it would end up being a true burden, but more on that later. Whereas the room did look like the brochure in most respects, the hotel in general looked and sounded better in theory than it was. It was obvious that Photoshop helped with the attractiveness of the brochure. It wasn’t bad, mind you, but didn’t exactly turn me on. My hotel from the previous trip was definitely a bit classier. I was also disappointed to see that this hotel didn’t have any sort of store to buy water, coffee, etc.


My hotel room


I actually ended up getting to the hotel earlier than I had expected. It was now around 5:30pm so I had enough time to get something to eat and chill a bit before the show. I went through the restaurant list that I brought with me and decided to go to a place called L’Escalier and see what they were all about since it wasn’t very far from the hotel.

This also gave me an opportunity to check out the area around the hotel. This turned out to be rather disappointing as well. The direct area right around the hotel looked a little shady. It was only the police station one block down that put me a bit at ease. Then again, maybe that was a bad sign. I couldn’t be sure.

The only “real” looking sit down styled restaurant I passed was called Pacini and looked to be Italian food. This was a good find since I now had a fallback plan if L’Escalier didn’t work out.

I had previously wondered how I hadn’t seen L’Escalier last time I was here since I had to walk right past it to get to the theater where Marillion perform. Once I found the restaurant I understood how I missed it; there’s nothing there but a strangely painted door. The actual building is on the second floor and there’s simply a green door leading upwards with no sign, etc. You’d never know it was there if you weren’t looking for it.

I went through the door and walked up the stairs. It had a definite urban hippie sort of vibe and I felt slightly out of place. The menu was written on a chalkboard above a long counter and it was completely in French. I could make out only one word here or there. This was going to be tricky.

I went up to the counter and a girl greeted me in French. I quickly switched the conversation to English but the girl had quite an accent. I asked, “Do you take credit cards?” She said no, that they didn’t have a machine. Ugh. “Do you take American dollars?” I asked hopefully. “I don’t have any Canadian money.” At first she said no, then someone else came up and said yes. Then the two of them spoke back and forth and I got completely lost in the conversation. “So…yes then?” I asked again. It seemed so. I ordered a tofu sandwich, although honestly I had no idea what I was really ordering, and some sort of cranberry drink. The girl promptly pulled out a slim can and popped the top. I handed her a $20 bill and she started to panic.

“Oh, no. I can’t do twenty,” she said. She said this like she had already told me, which maybe she did amongst all the other commotion and I didn’t hear her.

“Well, I don’t have anything smaller,” I said. I was getting frustrated, especially since I didn’t even know what the heck I was ordering. “Is there an ATM here?”

“Oui!” she replied. “Right out the door over there,” she stated pointing.

“Ok, I’ll come back.” She looked a bit frustrated and so was I. “Sorry!” I said and walked back down the stairs. By the time I reached the bottom I thought, screw this, I’m going to Pacini! This isn’t worth the hassle! And this, my friends, is why I didn’t eat out much last time I was in Montreal.

I backtracked towards the hotel again and went in to Pacini. A bit of time had passed and now I was getting closer to being in a bit of a hurry. There was no real time for debating at this point. Inside the restaurant, I first came upon a centrally located square grill of sorts with a bunch of people standing around it. I’ve never seen anything quite like it and couldn’t figure out what exactly they were doing. Ignoring them, I finally found the host/hostess podium and was seated by a hostess. The menu was both in French and English, thankfully.

I spoke to the waitress a bit and I settled upon the lasagna, more or less based upon her recommendation. She said it came with the all you can eat bread bar. The what?! I went and checked it out and that’s what the square grill was all about. Basically, there are a few different varieties of thickly sliced bread to choose from. You pick one out and then choose from a variety of spreads like butter, pesto, garlic, tomato, etc. You spread that on your bread and then place it on the grill with tongs. Standing around the grill, you wait until it chars to your liking. It’s actually pretty ingenious, I thought, and turned out to be the best part of the meal.

The lasagna was less than good. It was kind of cold, had no real flair to it at all, and was a bit worse than one of the frozen varieties I frequently purchase. The meal wasn’t cheap, either. I was a bit bummed. I had a hard time getting the bill too. Meanwhile, the clock was ticking.

I paid for my meal, went back to the hotel briefly, and then it was off to the show. In fact, the doors had opened up an hour previously and at least one of the warm up acts had already been on. I wanted to catch a bit of it but, as it turned out, I had just missed it.

I walked into L’Olympia, got my Marillion Weekend wristband, schedule, etc., and ventured in to the theater. The place was pretty crowded and I more or less went to the same location that I stood for all three shows two years previously. In a bit of irony, without realizing it, I ended up standing directly behind Oliver and Lynn, the English couple from the 747 Express bus. We shook hands, talked a bit, and it wasn’t long before the second warm up act, John Wesley, came out. I’ve seen John Wesley play every single time I’ve seen Marillion and, well, not really by choice. He’s a great guitar player, mind you, and not a bad songwriter either but I could have certainly skipped it. A bit too stuck in the 80’s for my taste but that’s just me.

After John Wesley was done, the audience had shifted quite a bit. I had no idea what happened to Oliver and Lynn and did not see them again for the rest of the weekend. As I waited for the main show to start, I couldn’t help but listen to these two guys behind me talking about Marillion and the crowd, etc. One guy said the word f*** literally twice in every sentence. “I can’t f***in’ believe how many f***in’ people there are here. I mean, it’s f***in’ incredible to see this many f***in’ Marillion fans in one f****in’ place!”

They started talking about the warm up act, meaning John Wesley, and they apparently didn’t know who he was. I assumed they hadn’t picked up a schedule on the way in. “Who is this f***in’ guy? He’s a f***in’ great guitar player.” I didn’t want John Wesley to lose out on a potential fan and so I turned around and filled them in.

“That’s John Wesley. He almost always opens up for Marillion,” I said. “He’s playing a free show at some bar tomorrow during the day, if you want to check it out.” We chatted briefly. Turns out they were from Toronto. No joke, every sentence had some variation of f*** in it. Coupled with the Canadian accent it was pretty unbelievable. They were really pleasant, mind you, and it turned out that the one guy had followed Marillion for years. “Yeah, I saw Marillion back when f***in’ Fish was in the group. Man, in ’85, he f***in’ came out in a f***in’ kilt! I mean, what the f***?! A f***in’ kilt! It was f***in’ incredible! Just like in the f***in’ video! Have you seen the f***in’ video? It was just like that! F***in’ incredible!”

Shortly after, the lights went down and Marillion took the stage. Night #1 was a full performance of the “Holidays in Eden” album, one of their weaker more pop oriented albums, but the tour that I happened to miss by total accident back in 1992. I had always looked for a way to make that up.

The crowd was beyond gracious. After the opening song “Splintering Heart” was completed, the crowd simply cheered and clapped for what seemed like five minutes. The band was clearly touched.


Marillion playing a track from "Holidays in Eden" (notice the graphic in the background)


Something weird happened during one of my favorite tunes “The Party”. All of a sudden the room smelled of smoke and fire. You couldn’t really see smoke but it definitely had a super strong odor of unmistakable fire. Everyone started looking around worriedly, almost waiting for panic to erupt. We were quite packed in to the theater so this was really rather disconcerting. The band continued playing, though, as if they didn’t notice it and nothing ever became of it. Unfortunately, it caused me to more or less miss the entire song. I’m still not sure what the heck happened.

There were lots of technical glitches throughout the night. At one point, after guitarist Steve Rothery switched guitars, the tech forgot to plug it in. Later on, lead singer Steve Hogarth (H) commented, “Please forgive us if we make any mistakes. We’ve got like 9 hours of music in our heads right now for you and some of these songs we haven’t played in years, or really ever, for that matter. So, please overlook any mistakes.” On the very next song, Steve Rothery completely messed up his guitar solo and did his best to flub his way through it, improvising. After the song was over, he smiled embarrassingly at the rest of the band with a “what the hell was that?” sort of look on his face.


Steve Rothery taking a guitar solo


Another interesting moment was when H greeted the audience officially. He started in French but clearly only knew a handful of words. He quickly switched to English and said something along the lines of ‘I don’t what the heck I’m saying anyhow’. Some guy yelled out, “Hee hee hee, ho ho ho,” as in the French slur from a movie like, say, “The Little Mermaid”, where the French chef goes after the fish. It was really quite odd. Obviously, there were lots of Americans in the audience and English Canadians as well but it seemed rather rude to yell such a thing out in Montreal on French Canadian soil.


Steve Hogarth (H) center stage with the lights focused on him


Here’s the set list, all done by memory. I’m sure I’ve got a few of these out of order but I think I have them all listed:


Splintering Heart
Cover My Eyes
The Party
No One Can
Holidays in Eden
Dry Land
Waiting to Happen
This Town
The Rake’s Progress
100 Nights

(break)

A Collection
How Can it Hurt
Beautiful
The Memory of Water (new alt. rock version)

Man of a Thousand Faces

The Invisible Man


The show was good but I was closer than usual and it was extremely hot in the theater. It was so hot that I felt almost faint at times and therefore it kind of put me in a daze through most of it. It was almost like I wasn’t fully there for the show and it seemed to pass by without me. In hindsight, I should have moved back in order to get some air but, alas, I did not.


H as the "Invisible Man"


I returned to my hotel completely exhausted and dry mouthed. I hadn’t been sleeping well so that coupled with sweating to death really knocked me out. It was also now after midnight. I luckily found a vending machine in the hotel and purchased the only juice looking drink in it. I wasn’t sure what it was because the label was in French on the sign. Upon receiving it, it turned out to be 5 Alive, something I haven’t had in years. I drank it way too quickly and plopped down on the bed to watch a bit of TV before turning in. 80% of the channels were in French. To make matters worse, there didn’t appear to be any cable TV nor pay movie channels. This was going to be rough. I was really not pleased with my hotel choice at this point.

I turned the lights out and climbed in to bed. There was a heck of a lot of noise on the street for 12:30am. Keep in mind that I was located on the 2nd floor facing the street. I couldn’t really get the room completely dark so I got up and tried to close the curtains more. I fidgeted with the curtain rod and it disconnected from up above and basically fell on my head. I tried but couldn’t seem to get it back up from whence it came. I had only been there a few hours and I was already wrecking the place.

I got back in to bed and started to relax. Amidst the sounds of cars honking, revving, and occasional police sirens, I suddenly heard a woman screaming. Alarmed, I put my head up to listen and pondered if I should call the front desk, or maybe even the police. Then, the more I listened, I realized that I was hearing someone in a room down the hall and, um, I think she was close to climaxing. I figured I better not call anyone about it.

I started to drift off slowly. It had been a long day and a slightly disappointing one. Maybe coming out for this Marillion Weekend wasn’t such a great idea after all. Maybe I’m over it. Who knows. Zzzzzzz…

Uh Oh, You've Expired!

I keep a spare toothbrush and toothpaste at work in my desk drawer for nights when I’m going out straight from work. The thought of going anywhere with foul breath, dirty teeth, or, um, an unclean tongue just makes me uneasy.

I was brushing my teeth at work the other day and thought to myself, my, this toothpaste tastes a bit funky. Now, it is a different brand than I use at home so my initial thought was that it’s simply different tasting. Then I remembered that I have thought this before and, the more I thought about it, it kind of seemed like the taste of the toothpaste was perhaps getting stronger.

Does toothpaste have something like an expiration date? I wasn’t really sure. I started checking out the tube while I was still brushing and, sure enough, toothpaste DOES have an expiration date. The date was almost exactly a year earlier.

Oh…

Now, I can’t say for sure that that accounts for the funky taste but, well, it’s certainly suspicious. This, my friends, is a phenomenon that I’ve just recently really started to encounter quite often. Yes, that’s right, I’ve reached that point in life where I’m old enough that time passes by very quickly and therefore expiration dates come and go, and yet I unknowingly keep using the product. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.

For example, a few months ago (or was it years ago? See what I mean?), we decided to go through the lazy susan and search for products that might have expired. I can’t recall what it was that prompted this (of course) but the outcome was shocking. We found multiple spices that had an expiration date of 2007 or slightly before! Some of these items I would have sworn that I had just purchased only a few months prior.

How does this happen? Where does the time actually go? And, most importantly, why is it going so fast?!

It’s kind of funny but also rather scary. Time moves so quickly these days that I’m almost afraid to go to sleep, terrified that I’ll wake up and be 80 years old with no recollection of the forty years that have passed.

I’m curious – are any of you experiencing this sort of thing? If you are, and if you can remember to remember, tell me about it! I’ll be interested to hear anyone’s theories on this strange mystery of life. The only theory I can ever come up with is that the more time we live through the less we seem to “feel” it pass us by since we become sort of immune to it. This alone is a rather frightening thought. Having said that, heck, I need to get off my rear end and go get something accomplished before it’s too late!

2 Minute Movie Reviews

In Theaters Now:

"127 Hours" - 3 (out of 5) stars - "A rather lighthearted and slightly fun movie up until...well, you know. The cinematography is very interesting with lots of variety and creative shots. The story itself, though, as a film at least, drags slightly, especially since we all know the ending. It's also one of the most disgusting and uncomfortable things I've ever seen on a screen. I've watched countless gross horror movies and never had an issue; I had to close my eyes in this film since I felt both sick to my stomach and faint. I think reviewer's are getting hung up on Aron Ralston's extraordiary true life story and sympathetically calling this a fantastic film."

"Another Year" - 4 stars - "Yet another excellent film from Mike Leigh that focuses on characters and standard plot development. This film, like many of Leigh's movies, has a way of making the viewer feel like another guest of the main couple, Tom and Gerri, allowing you to go through the same wide range of emotions and events that occur throughout the story. The film may not have a thick plot line that can be summed up cleanly but definitely sticks with you days after viewing."


On DVD:

"Devil" - 2 stars - "Another film from M. Night Shyamalan which once again clearly displays that, while his ideas may be interesting, they cannot be executed to their full potential. The film suffers from countless bits of unrealistic dialogue, goofy characterizations, and various tidbits which both annoy the viewer and ruin the suspense angle."

"Jack Goes Boating" - 3 stars - "An interesting look at the beginning of an unlikely couple while a societal "normal" couple destructs in the background. The film leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, unsure, and slightly confused and yet somehow a bit satisfied."

Hurray For You

I overheard something very odd a few days ago. An elderly man who was walking with a cane stopped and chatted with another man not far from me. I distinctly heard the other man burst out enthusiastically, "Well, congratulations!!!" The man with the cane in turn beamed with pride.

Now, if you're a true optimist, you might be thinking that the man with the cane won the lottery. Or, maybe his granddaughter gave birth to her first child. Um...or perhaps his grandson won the Cub Scout Pinewood Derby? Er...or maybe the man lost five pounds that his doctor strongly suggested he shed? These are all good guesses but they're all wrong. No, the highly ecstatic and sincere congratulations, as I later found out, was because the football team that he rooted for, the Green Bay Packers, won the Super Bowl.

There's really only one way to put this and that is...are you freakin' kidding me?! Congratulations??! For what, exactly?! For reaching into the chip bowl one more time and double dipping into the salsa?!

Hey, I know this world that we all live in is odd but this is simply too much for me to swallow. I mean, sure, be excited that the team you like won...sure! But 'congratulations'?! C'mon...be serious!

I've always taken issue with sports fans who use the phrase "we won". Um, how do you figure this as 'we'?? I'm sorry but I didn't see you down there hustling the ball back and forth (although I'll certainly admit that I'd like to since it would probably be quite the sight). Nor did I see you on the field giving instruction to the players. Better yet, I didn't see you anywhere NEAR the field. So what's with this "we"??! Didn't THEY win and you just basically sat on your arse and occasionally screamed at the TV for no real reason whatsoever?

I can't help but think back to one of my personal favorite lines in "Citizen Kane", when Kane is desperately trying to make his wife Susan not feel so isolated from the rest of the world by telling her that the Bulldogs won that evening. Susan simply replies sarcastically, "Well, hurray for the Bulldogs".

Ditto!

2 Minute Movie Reviews

In Theaters Now:

"Rabbit Hole" - 4 (out of 5) stars - "A melancholy yet strangely pleasant film that explores some of the range of emotions and issues that may arise from a terrible tragedy as well as any sort of true life altering event. Both Kidman and Eckhart are very convincing in their roles as the grieving mother and father. The true high point of the film is watching the raw, uncomfortable, strangely healing and magnetic footage between Kidman and Teller as the teenager who happened to be behind the wheel when her son was killed."

"The King's Speech" - 4 stars - "A rather fun and lighthearted period piece that once again showcases the talent of the previously underrated Colin Firth. With grand performances from both Firth and the always amazing Geoffrey Rush, while not exactly a mind blowing film or script, it's still quite difficult to not enjoy."


On Blu Ray/DVD:

"Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work" - 3 stars - "A fascinating look at one of the true queens of comedy. Touching upon both the high and low points of her career, no matter how you feel about Joan Rivers before watching the movie, it's hard not to be a fan afterwards."

"Color Me Kubrick" - 3 stars - "This reasonably true story of an alcholic who impersonated Stanley Kubrick throughout the 1990's is nothing short of fun and entertaining. The always interesting John Malkovich takes us on a pleasant ride through a day in the life of a con man. Actual Kubrick fans will really appreciate the small elements of Kubrick films tastefully and jokingly represented throughout the story."

Welcome to the World We've Created

If my memory serves me at all correctly, football became the dominant American favored sport back during the infamous baseball strike. This made football fans feel good, after all, since their sport was now #1.

Well, welcome to today’s world. Go online right now on something like StubHub or Ebay. Look up Super Bowl tickets and check out the prices for the cheapest seats. Yes, that’s your reward, football fans! For those of you who don’t know, tickets are starting at around $3000…a piece! Quite honestly, most tickets are $4000 and up, and that’s still in the nosebleed section. Decent seats right now start at $9000 per ticket. Yes, that’s right, the price of a car!

I’m no stranger to ticket buying. I know full well that ticket prices go up and down as the event nears and if you’re a really smart shopper you can get some sort of a deal. I think in this case, though, “deal” is a relevant term. So, how did we get to this point?

I remember about 10 years ago when I asked a good friend of mine why he was all of a sudden following the WNBA versus the NBA. Now, I meant no disrespect by this, you see. I was just curious why someone who was such a huge basketball fan was completely ignoring the NBA after all this time. I don’t remember his exact words but it was something like this: “…because someone has deemed that watching pro sports is only for the rich…”

I’ll admit that at the time I wasn’t fully following his logic. I’m not a huge sports fan, per se, although I do enjoy baseball, and the world of tickets was just starting to change around this point so I wasn’t really understanding. In reflection, I think that the sports world got hit first so I was a bit slow on the awakening to the new era of tickets. It wasn’t long after, though, that concert tickets went from being the usual $50 per ticket up to $250. The first time I saw that price increase was for the Simon and Garfunkel reunion around 2001. I thought there was certainly no way that this was going to last. I mean, how could it?

I was wrong…and my friend was right. Let’s be frank: tickets were always a bit pricey to begin with, no? To be honest, even at $50 a ticket that’s a bit tricky for some people to pay, especially if they’re taking a family. But $250? I believe the logic that companies like Ticketmaster used in this price hike was that they were losing money in the scalping/aftermarket so they were just going to make better seats have a premium price to begin with. And what has been the result? Yeah, you know the answer. Scalping hasn’t changed, in fact, it’s even more acceptable and more of a business today than it was. Heck, even Ticketmaster themselves have their own scalping website so that they reap the rewards on both ends. All that’s really happened from this enormous price hike is that previously a scalper would charge $200 for a $50 list price ticket, and now today they charge $1000 for a $250 priced ticket.

Brace yourselves. You know I’m going to use the “C” word, don’t you? Yes, that’s right, this is just another example of the 2011 version of American capitalism gone completely out of control and off the designated path. I promise not to go on one of my political rants so let’s just leave that as it is.

No lower income family can possibly pay $3000+ for a Super Bowl ticket. Most middle class families can’t pay that kind of money for one game either. So who gets these tickets? The rich, of course. So, like my friend had stated, someone along the way has in fact deemed that only the rich should enjoy ever seeing these sorts of events.

My real point is what are we, as consumers, going to do about this? When are we going to do it?! And most importantly, why haven’t we already done something about it?!

Here’s what we should do: we should simply stop watching these games, buying any of their sports related merchandise, and completely shake up the system. The whole industry would come to a screeching hault. Same thing with the music industry - we need to simply stop attending big dollar concerts. Not forever, mind you, but for a season, a year, whatever. Trust me, if we did this, there would be definite changes made. I keep waiting for this but, alas, it never happens. In fact, consumers act like nothing is happening. It’s bizarre. We continue walking blindly along like we’re not getting screwed over around every corner.

And so, welcome to the world that we’ve created. Now how about we do something about it? Hello? Are you out there??!

In the meantime, I’m glad football took over as #1 and thank you fans for it. Baseball tickets have also gone up but they’re still at least semi-attainable…for now, at least.

A Thought from the Hole

I went to see the film “Rabbit Hole” last night at my favorite local theater, the Landmark Theatre in Edina. It’s a slightly older theater that just seems to evoke the right atmosphere for indie/foreign/art films, and it doesn’t hurt that Landmark’s popcorn is, in my opinion, the best of the best. Another advantage of the theater, especially midweek or at off times, is that it’s hardly ever extremely crowded.

I arrived earlier than normal, like about thirty minutes early. This was unusual for me since, over the past few years, I’ve been more of a five minute early sort of individual, sometimes intentionally, depending upon the theater, so that I don’t have to sit through 20 minutes of bad commercials and previews that mean literally nothing to me. This issue really doesn’t apply to the Landmark Theatres, though, and is really only the case when I’m going to an AMC, or especially the local Carmike Theatre (don’t even get me started on that one…). To be honest, I’m normally either right on time or slightly late to the Edina Theatre simply due to the location being difficult to get to during traffic hours. I went to a 7:30pm showing last night, though, so traffic was not an issue and hence how I get there so quickly.

Upon arriving, I found that I was the first one there. I decided to sit and wait in the theater a bit before venturing out for my obligatory popcorn and Coke feast. I waited until ten minutes before show time to get up and venture out to the lobby. I was surprised to see that very few people had shown up in the end and it was, by all means, going to be a practically empty theater.

After getting my refreshments, I went back to the theater, took approximately the same seat that I had before, and just then the lights happened to go off, signifying the start of the previews. Ah, this was going to be great! There wasn’t anyone anywhere near me, the theater was practically empty, etc. Perfect!

About two minutes later, not looking behind me, mind you, I could hear two ladies venture in to the theater simply due to how loud they were. ‘Oh goodness,’ I thought to myself, ‘please don’t sit behind me.’ Yes, sure enough, talking all the way down the aisle, saying things like “do you want to sit here” and “is this okay”, they simply had to sit directly behind me. The theater…heck, I don’t know…maybe holds 500 people? There were about 10 people total in the entire theater and still these two ladies had to sit right behind me. Worse yet, they reeked of wine, I mean, to the point that I could smell their breath clear as a bell while sitting in front of them.

I tried being optimistic. ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘maybe they’ll quiet down once they get settled.’ Er, no. Now, the previews were still going, mind you, but they were doing the low whisper thing, literally holding a conversation amongst themselves but at a whisper styled level. This might have been fine normally except that when someone is right behind you, well, the whisper is really no longer a whisper. Hmm… ‘Maybe they’ll stop once the movie begins,’ I tried to console myself. Again, er, no.

“Rabbit Hole”, if you don’t know, is a movie about the grief that a couple experiences after the loss of their son. It’s a quieter sort of movie filled with a lot of space, silence, and thought provoking moments….all of which these two ladies were evidently going to converse through. About 5 minutes into the movie, I turned my head around and gave them the “look”, as in, “please be quiet…you’re in a movie theater, for crying out loud”. I heard one of them say something, like, ‘uh oh’. They ceased talking/whispering for a whole minute and then promptly started again.

Even though I had the perfect seat in the perfect row with literally no one anywhere near me prior to these two rude individuals arriving, I decided to pick up my stuff and simply move two rows up and all the way to the left. In other words, I did my best to get out of ear shot of them.

For the most part, it did the trick, although I could still hear them whispering here and there. At this point, though, they were far enough away that I couldn’t actually make out what they were saying and so my brain treated them more like white noise. They did talk, though, through the entire film. I simply don’t understand it.

I’m not entirely sure how we went from being a society that overemphasized the respecting of manners to this, a society that can’t even comprehend that some people actually go to the movies to, well, watch and pay attention to the movie. What happened to common courtesy? How did we become this? Is it a growing ADD population? Is it too much pressure and stress on our daily lives? Is it the overstimulation of too many electronic devices and such? I remember when I landed at Heathrow Airport in London a couple of years ago and I was walking down the ramp away from the plane. I suddenly heard someone singing, no, almost screaming/singing at the top of their lungs, and I couldn’t figure what it was all about. Was it normal in London that people sang in terminals? A couple seconds later, I found that it was one of the passengers on our plane who was wearing an IPOD, just belting out a song as she walked. Huh? How is this now acceptable behavior? I mean, do you really think everyone wants to hear you sing acapella to whatever it is that you’re listening to? I just don’t get it.

Let me put it this way: if I hadn’t gotten up and moved, the whole movie would have been ruined. The whole point to watching movies like this is to veg out, become one with the film, allow yourself and your emotions to be swept away into the story, and open up your heart and mind to the scenarios in the plot and on the screen. This is what movie watching is. This is why someone like me becomes the movie fanatic that I am.

However, later on, I thought about my decision. Why did I have to move? I was there first, after all. I waited the longest. I wasn’t the one doing anything disturbing to anyone else…so why did I move? Why didn’t I, for example, turn around and ask these two women to be quiet? Or, worse yet, why didn’t I make a scene? I could have easily gotten up, turned around, and yelled, “Would you two stupid idiots shut the hell up!!!!” I most certainly wanted to…and yet I didn’t. Was I wimping out? I thought of a whole slew of things that I could have done or said, mostly rude, mind you. So, why didn’t I?

I thought about this for quite some time later in the evening and I realized something very important but also very simple: the reason I was there was to enjoy myself and watch this movie…nothing else. So many people these days, I think at least, would do exactly the opposite; they would cause a scene. But what does it get you? Would you enjoy the film afterwards? Would causing a scene give you some strange satisfaction?

I thought about the various kinds of things that occur on a daily basis, things like road rage, scenes that are caused in public places, customers complaining in full dramatic style, etc. It seems to me that our society has some sick fascination and drive with trying to “teach” or tell the person that we feel is in the wrong that they’re wrong. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say, “I just wanted to teach them a lesson!” Maybe I’m weird but it just seems to me that this is bizarre behavior. Who I am to teach these two women a “lesson”, and better yet, what actual lesson would I really be teaching them, other than I’m as big of a jerk as they both are? Furthermore, how could I guarantee that they would learn anything at all? And how would that help me, the guy who just wants to watch a movie in peace?

We most certainly live in an angry society at times and it just seems to me that too many people are out to try and teach other’s a lesson when often times the best response is to be selfish and find your own happiness, whatever that is, as quickly and quietly as possible. Call me silly but I think the world would be a better place with this as our mantra.

In the end, I watched and enjoyed the film without being disturbed. I’m not a wimp for not confronting them. I think I won.

2 Minute Movie Reviews

I'm going to try out this new format, something that more or less mirrors the stripped down format of reviews that you find from the critics on popular web engines and such. It's been a bit of a dilemma since I still really enjoy writing reviews but no one really seems to read them, especially in this age of hustle and bustle. I can only imagine that if "War and Peace" was written today, the publishers would ask Tolstoy to cut it down by 500 pages to appease our ADD society. It's a good thing he wrote the novel back then. Sigh.


In Theaters Now:

"True Grit" - 3 (out of 5) stars - "A handsomely crafted remake by the Coen brothers which captures an essence of the novel that wasn't present in the original. A nearly great film, it only suffers from an occasional glitch here and there. Bridges' and Steinfeld's performances are worth the watch alone."

"Black Swan" - 4 stars - "Yet another stripped down fantastic work from Darren Aronofsky. Much in the same vein as "The Wrestler", the film captures the seldom viewed behind the scenes look of an art form in a haunting fashion. Portman is perfectly cast as the inner tortured Nina Sayers."


On DVD:

"I'm Still Here" - 1 star - "One can only ask what the point of this film is. In thinking that the film is real, it's painful at best; in knowing the film is a hoax, it's completely worthless. This is simply a waste of time and makes you wish he wasn't still there."

"Bug" - 3 stars - "A true head scratcher of a film. Mildly disturbing, very cynical, and a film that more or less gets under your skin. Both Ashley Judd and Michael Shannon are so incredibly convincing throughout the film that their paranoia seems to drift out of the screen onto the audience, making you want to itch as well."

McCrappe!

I think I had one of the worst coffees ever today. I saw an ad on TV yesterday for $1 McCafe drinks at McDonalds until December 5th and figured I’d give them another chance. I had tried a mocha at one of the ten million fast food chain’s establishments previously and was rather disappointed (but not surprised) to find that it was simply a hot chocolate with a spot of bad coffee in the middle of it. I’m not entirely sure but I may have even tried another one at a later date, just in case the first one was “off”. Well, it wasn’t. I figured for a dollar, though, how can you go wrong, right?

This time around I opted for a latte. I was shocked to be asked, “What flavor would you like?” Huh? Flavor? Since when is a “latte” flavored? Oh boy, here we go. After the cashier read off my list of countless options, I simply chose one blindly, just to be done with the disturbing question altogether. I chose hazelnut.

One thing I can’t stand about McDonald’s McCafe drinks is that the freakin’ drink hole on the lid is about 5 times larger than anything you’d ever get at Caribou, Starbucks, etc. I think perhaps it goes hand in hand with their trademark large diameter straws that you can basically suck up large pearl sized tapioca balls with. The issue with the drink hole on the coffee is that it’s absolutely puzzling what to do with it. If you attempt to put your mouth around it, you’re basically drinking a beverage with your jaw hanging downward and your mouth agape. If you opt instead to just press your lips to it, you’re sure to burn the sides of your mouth, that is, unless you’ve been gifted with an incredibly large mouth. Perhaps the inventors of McDonalds were gifted in that fashion...that might explain it. Either way, the drink hole is downright disturbing, especially since it’s in a rather clunky square shape. Do you know anyone with a square mouth? Okay, let’s avoid that question altogether.

The cashier basically turned around and started assembling my beverage herself. This was starting to seem like a really bad idea more and more so. Now, keep in mind that I ordered a “latte”, a drink normally made with frothed milk and espresso. It’s really scary when the entire beverage can be assembled from one machine…by pressing simply one button. That’s right, there’s no espresso maker, no frothing machine, no nothing of the sort. Simply one button does it all on the same machine that dispenses countless other beverages. Yikes!

Well, how about the taste, right? I had to dig for the coffee in my drink and I’m pretty convinced that it wasn’t in there at all. All I could taste was sugar, like pretty much anything else McDonald’s makes (heck, even the salads have sugar in them), and then some bad hazelnut flavoring. The top of the drink was frothy, mind you, but not “froth”. Heck, let’s be honest: this wasn’t a latte at all. It was a bad flavored hot chocolate in coffee’s clothing.

Yes, I may have only spent $1 but surely I received nothing worth more than 1 cent. And so, a couple hours later, I ventured out to Caribou and received the real deal. Ah…the sound of real froth!

I applaud McDonald’s for trying to venture out and entice people with their $1 trial but seriously, folks, let’s just keep coffee where it belongs…in a coffee shop. Give it up, McDonald’s. I beg of you. Stick to what you do best…roping in small children at a young age and getting them hooked on excess sugar so that they get addicted enough to keep returning as they get older. Clowns shouldn't make coffee, plain and simple.

Have It Your Out of Control Way

My “beef” for today is Burger King’s ad campaign “Have It Your Way”. At first glance and thought, it seems rather nifty, I think. It suggests to consumers that they have some sort of power over their orders, and that both the customer and the fast food chain itself more or less partner in order to bring a particular fast food meal to your dinner table. I think it also insinuates that every order is unique, sort of like a fingerprint. That might be stretching the truth a bit but, hey, that’s advertising for you.

I did some mild research and learned that the “Have It Your Way” campaign originally was released in the 1970’s. From what I read, everyone alive during that era still clearly remembers the campaign…except me. I don’t recall it at all, but then again, we always ate at McDonalds. Burger King has evidently tried a few other campaign slogans over the years to no real avail and word on the street was that they wished to return to their most memorable and successful campaign, the lovely “Have It Your Way”. My question is whether that’s the real reason behind the move. Read on…

Now, don’t get me wrong: I like Burger King. As a vegetarian, they’re the only major fast food burger place that I know of that took the chance on the veggie burger and it seems to still be running strong. It’s also pretty reasonably priced and I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than five dollars on any particular meal.

What I don’t like, though, is that it took me awhile to understand how to order. I’ll be honest…the Burger King veggie burgers aren’t exactly the best tasting veggie burgers out there, but having said that, they’re still decent. The strange part, though, was that the first few times I ordered one, it was plain as hell. It took me awhile to understand what exactly was wrong with it, and then one day it hit me…there really wasn’t much on it!

The next time I went through the drive through, I tried a different tactic. “I’d like a BK Veggie Burger….with tomatoes, pickles, and onions,” I said loudly into the drive through loudspeaker. When I got back to the office, sure enough, the burger was nearly twice as high as my previous ones and definitely was much more satisfying, like, um, a burger.

It seems to me that “Have It Your Way” might just be a ploy. Unless you ask for specific items, they simply don’t give them to you. Am I the only one that finds this weird? Whatever happened to “I’d like a burger…without pickles, please”? The formula has always been, as long as I can remember, that you order things WITHOUT specific items, if you don’t want them. When did this change to you simply don’t get them? Ah ha! Now we’re getting somewhere! Could this maybe be some sort of cost savings trick rather than consumer empowerment? How many pickles do you think people forget to order a year, and therefore how much money does that save? These are questions that I’d like to know the answers to. Yes, scary, I know, but this is just one of the 10 million dumb questions that rattle around my brain on a daily basis.

I realize that I’m a bit of an extremist but I don’t even really understand the necessity of having things “your way”. Unless someone has a dietary need or something similar, why can’t you just have it the way that’s recommended? It seems, in a rather strange way, not that unlike ordering a gourmet meal and then, right in front of the chef, asking for salt. I’ve never understood people who order things in this manner: “I’d like a hamburger with no pickles, no onions, just a little bit of lettuce, ketchup on the side….” Even better, the specific coffee customer who needs it just right: “Skim milk, a dash of cinnamon, no ice, with a flavor shot of…” This isn’t a dietary need; can you say high maintenance?! I mean, if you need your food this specific, why not just jump over the counter and make it yourself! That’s kind of what you’re doing anyway, isn’t it? Yes, it’s sad, but this is what American society has become, and then we congratulate one another for it. It’s rather puzzling.

“Have It Your Way” isn’t just a slogan for Burger King; it’s basically the slogan of our way of life these days. It’s unfortunate that it doesn’t spill over into things that are more important, like our government, Wall Street, and so on. But hey, at least I can get 2% milk in my latte…

Efterklang’in in my Head

My favorite album right now is the new release from the Denmark band Efterklang called “Magic Chairs”. We happened to see them live about a month ago at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, sort of by chance. The show was opened by the duo Buke and Gass which I had heard previously on the NPR program Radiolab, one of my personal fav’s. After hearing them on the radio, since they were so incredibly enticing and inventive, I immediately looked at their upcoming shows list on their webpage. When I saw that they would be at the Walker, I knew I’d be going one way or the other. I was slightly disappointed, on first glance, to see that they were only opening the show and I more or less figured that I could probably sit through the following band (Efterklang), regardless of what I thought of them.

In a very not me sort of way, I did little to no research on Efterklang prior to the performance. Usually, I’d get myself mildly acquainted with the sound of a band that I’ve not heard before, and normally get some sort of idea as to what they look like, etc. I did do a very brief web search on Efterklang but couldn’t find the results that I had hoped for so I just gave up and decided to wing it.

Buke and Gass were as expected the night of the show. In my eyes, at least, they’re extremely fresh sounding, unique, and have a life of their own that just grips me in a special sort of way. As a songwriter/musician myself, I was often taking mental notes while they played and often times wishing that I’d come up with something as inventive as their music. They played for just a little under an hour and I promptly purchased both of their CD’s at the merchandise stand afterwards.

And so, onward to Efterklang, this band I knew virtually nothing about. I really had no idea what to expect but figured, since they were paired up with Buke and Gass, that they would be at least somewhat similar. When the band came onto the stage for the performance, I was, well, quite dumbfounded. First off, there were a lot of members in the band, somewhere around eight total, which was a bit more than I was used to seeing. The thing that really threw me off was that they were set up on the stage in a very reminiscent manner not unlike some of the new wave videos I recall from the early 80’s on MTV, such as like the bands Real Life, the Human League, Spandau Ballet, etc. It was kind of odd. Of all the hundreds of shows I’ve seen, I’ve never seen anyone setup in this manner…ever. To make it even weirder, both the singer/front man and the bass player were dressed as if it was actually 1981, both with mustaches and shirts that looked to have time warped from that very year. The singer wore a neon green sort of sleeveless shirt, something I haven’t seen for literally 20 years. It kind of made me uncomfortable, to be frank.

Needless to say, I was completely thrown off. Then, the music began, and they opened with the track “Full Moon” which completely sounded like a new wave ripoff. I was like, are you kidding me? You pair Buke and Gass, this extremely fresh and sort of aggressively gripping duo with a new wave knock off? I couldn’t believe it. As someone who really more or less despises when “new bands” simply remake the past, especially the 80’s, having lived through that era, can you say instant turn off? Don’t get me wrong, now. The 80’s new wave era was fine…in the 80’s, but why the heck would you want to redo this, or better yet relive it? I at least have no interest, let’s put it that way.

And so, Efterklang and I totally began on the wrong footing. I was ready to leave after about 2 songs. I felt almost insulted having to sit there and listen to them. The fact that my significant other, who sort of never really grew out of the 80’s new wave era, was totally digging them made it even worse. It was just what I didn’t need. Ugh.

Gradually, as Efterklang played through their set, the music was widening and I was just starting to hear a bit more in their work. It was just about that time that the lead vocalist did this thing called “the test”, where he wanted everyone to stand up, put their arms out, and measure the length of their arms or something ridiculous like that, which ultimately led into some non-amusing joke. As someone who simply despises audience participation let alone something as stupid as this, can you say total mega turn off?! It seemed in the cards that Efterklang and I would leave the performance hating one another.

And then a little more than half way through the show, they started playing songs that were just, well, interesting. I started watching various members of the band more closely and couldn’t help but admire how tightly they played together. This was a band that was really tight, as musicians say, and played effortlessly in a sort of unison that you don’t see that often. Each band member was really into it, too. I also couldn’t help but admire the wide range of instruments used, like violin, trumpet, etc.

The song that started to win me over was “Raincoats”, where the band began by doing this clapping in unison thing that reminded me of the Pat Metheny Group performing “The First Circle”. It was really quite amazing to watch and all the band members were really into it in a way that showed true passion. It was hard not to be moved by it. I started thinking to myself, okay, maybe they’re not soooo bad after all.

Towards the end, they played their newest single, more or less, called “Modern Drift”. I couldn’t help but admire the unique pop sensibility of it. It was like nothing else I had ever heard and yet extremely catchy…but not annoying at all. The bass riff in the refrain, as simple as it was, was totally brilliant.

They ended with “Mirror Mirror” which completely blew me away, although I was trying not to show it. What a fabulous song: emotional, haunting, and unique. Efterklang’s usage of harmonies and background chants is simply fabulous, especially with a female voice added. The ending of the song was extended and they did a kind of acapella end to allow the entire band to slowly move off of the stage and then into the audience. It was kind of jaw dropping. Again, I’ve never seen anything like it, although I didn’t want to immediately admit that out loud.
And so, we purchased “Magic Chairs” on the way out of the show. I decided to give it just one listen, fully expecting to hate it. Well, I didn’t hate it, and after many listens now…I can’t help but love the album. It’s quite simply phenomenal.

This is a fine example of how a band has to win over its’ audience members. I began by despising everything about them and have now become a fan. What can I say? My hat is off to you, Efterklang! I’m now a believer! My only advice is to drop the “test”…seriously…
Go grab a copy of “Magic Chairs” and give it a listen. It’s quite possibly one of the best albums I’ve heard all year.

Bruegger Bruiser

We’re living in a rather bizarre age. We’re slowing moving from a time of super sizing everything to now super shrinking, cutting back, and so on. Ironically, though, the prices aren’t shrinking and they’re instead going up. Yes, that’s correct; we’re getting less and paying more. Are you feeling and hating it yet?

Don’t get me wrong… I’m all for getting rid of super sizing and of excessive gluttony (or is that redundant? Probably). We Americans do consume way too much and, because of it, we’re also one of the fattest nations in the world. One way or another, though, we’re paying for it. I do have a problem, however, when companies cut back on things to a bizarre standpoint, or they simply decide to both raise their prices while giving less.

One of the establishments that seems to be sticking it to consumers is Bruegger’s Bagel Company. One thing that I’ve always taken issue with in Minnesota is how the better business seems to fail while the lesser wins. A great example is how Einstein Bros. Bagel Company, of which I think, offers a superior product to Bruegger’s, has closed many of their Twin Cities locations, leaving only a handful of shops here and there. Why and how does this happen? It seems that Minnesotans are excessive creatures of habit and simply keep visiting the place they’ve always visited, regardless of actual product quality. This just doesn’t make any sense to me but I’ve learned to live with it on some level. In the meantime, though, we’re stuck with lesser quality.

Before I go any further, I need to call out “my” Bruegger’s, near my workplace, which is located on 2233 Energy Park Dr., Suite 100, in St. Paul. I need to draw a line and say that maybe…just maybe…all Bruegger’s aren’t completely terrible and perhaps it’s only this one. In any event, this particular Bruegger’s is beyond ridiculous and my experiences there have been close to infuriating.

First off, don’t ever order a coffee past 11am. If you do, it’ll be cold…and I mean cold, as in feeling like it’s right out of the refrigerator. This has happened to me twice so it wasn’t simply a fluke. Yeah, sure, I can take it back to work and heat it in the microwave but this is pretty much sacrilegious to any real coffee drinker. I’ve heard the argument that Bruegger’s only brews their coffee in the morning and then it’s kept warm in carafes throughout the day, and by afternoon it’s bound to be cold. If this is true, then why are they selling it? Can’t they at least warn the customer first? No, sorry, this just isn’t right on any level…unless, of course, you’re ordering iced coffee intentionally.

Even worse, I’ve ordered at least four bagels with cream cheese on four separate occasions. Each time, I take it back to the office, unwrap it, and find that there’s literally no cream cheese. Instead, it’s been spread on the bagel like a fine layer of butter. I’ve never seen this in my life from any bagel company. I mean, really?! Have you seen the pictures of bagels with cream cheese on the Bruegger’s website? Yeah, that’s a joke for us consumers, I think, so that we can only dream about actually tasting the cream cheese on the bagel. On one occasion, I actually thought they forgot to put the cream cheese on altogether, and that’s just how lightly it was spread on it. You literally needed a magnifying glass to see it.

And then there’s the price: $2.19 per bagel with cream cheese. Huh? What happened to the $1.59 price that I was accustomed to? How can you justify over two dollars for one lousy bagel with barely any visible cream cheese? I even questioned one of the coworkers on the price and the response I received was basically that it was a great price. Hmm.

Have you had a Brueggaccino, by any chance? I had a coupon for one once so I tried it. It was actually fairly tasty, well put together, refreshing, etc. I then ordered one awhile later and was asked, “Would you like regular or mocha?” I thought about it momentarily until I noticed that the “regular” one is $3.59, which is bad enough in my opinion for a non-coffee specialty shop, but the mocha, for the same size, was $4.09. Huh? And so, just last week I finally asked, “Why do you charge fifty cents more for the mocha?” The employee looked at me dumbfounded, couldn’t think of an answer, and then opted to get the manager. When he arrived, I had to ask my question again. The manager thought about it for a couple seconds and then said, “Well, it’s because I have to add chocolate to it.” He almost said it like it was a given, or like, “…duh…”.

Okay, now, correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t the “regular” have flavor in it too? I mean, do you go to an ice cream shop and pay fifty cents more per scoop of chocolate ice cream versus vanilla, just because it has chocolate in it? This is the justification for an extra fifty cents? You’re kidding, right?! Call me crazy but I’m just not following the logic here and I can’t help but feel that Bruegger’s is assuming that all of their customers are total idiots and won’t notice or question it. And so, my question is this…does anyone actually ever order the mocha for fifty cents more, and if not, shouldn’t that be giving Bruegger’s the hint?! Maybe I’m alone on this, who knows.

As consumers, we need to start standing up for ourselves and not be pushed around by businesses. It’s time to simply take our business elsewhere. All I can say is bring back Einstein’s…at least their stores are cuter and more enjoyable, even if the prices aren’t. As for Bruegger’s, I think I’ll start purposefully driving 5-10 miles out of my way to a different establishment so that I can actually enjoy some cream cheese.

Natalie Merchant Really Gets It Right...

I had the pleasure of seeing Natalie Merchant at the O’Shaughnessy in St. Paul on July 24th, 2010. Let me say up front that I’ve never been a big fan of Merchant’s solo work. My liking and support of her goes back mostly to her 10,000 Maniacs days, and to a time about 20+ years ago when I saw that band open up for Squeeze at a little theater in Mesa, AZ. It was a night that still sticks out in my mind, where that band completely won me over and made my jaw drop to the floor in a rather embarrassing manner.

I’ve always been a bit disappointed in her solo works. Due to this, I’ve been rather taken aback by my reaction to her new album, “Leave Your Sleep”, a two disc album comprised of 19th and 20th century British and American poetry adapted to music, fully equipped with a lovely booklet. You see, I’ve completely fallen head over heels in love with this album and think it’s quite frankly one of the best albums of 2010.

“Leave Your Sleep” is an example of the kind of work that I think Merchant should have always been doing. It’s an adventurous album, a journey of sorts, that’s both magical, enchanting, stimulating, and quite fun. A wide array of instruments were used with musical styles ranging from folk to jazz to even a bit of Celtic flair. It’s an album like no other that I’ve ever heard.

When I heard that she would be in town in support of the album, I knew I had to be there. It took a bit of searching but I finally landed a 3rd row Pit seat through Ticketmaster. As I always say, I usually don’t go to shows unless I’m in the first 10 rows. In my viewpoint, the show had one of two ways of playing out: she would either completely focus on the new material and then maybe play some of her hits for the encore, or she’d intersperse her catalog of songs together which, I think at least, would be rather weird and awkward. I of course had my fingers crossed for the former.

In typical me fashion, for one reason or another, I ended up running late to the show. I purposefully try not to get to shows too early because about 50% of the time I go alone and I hate sitting there in silence for a long time, twiddling my thumbs and such. So, I try to nonchalantly arrive about 15 minutes early, but on this particular evening, time somehow got away from me.

To make matters worse, I’ve never been to the O’Shaughnessy and so I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going. I was afraid I’d be caught in late-comer traffic; to my surprise, there was none. Instead, upon searching for the entrance gate that was listed on the map from the website, I was greeted with a summertime MN original…road construction! I found the gate sign but it was smack in the middle of two torn up entrances and roads, literally just a couple feet from one another. Both looked like something you wouldn’t normally drive down, consisting of dirt and stones, and there was a visible huge pile of dirt and concrete up ahead. It was completely confusing. Which was the real entrance?! Even funnier, as I was approaching from the north, an SUV was approaching from the south and we were both stopped, confused, looking at one another, trying to figure out which way to go. Being impatient, I just chose a road. The SUV promptly followed me.

About 10 seconds later, I realized I was in maybe the rectory’s parking lot? I don’t know. I spun around as the SUV came up behind me, confused as to where I was leading them. We both exited and then tried the other road, both of us parking in different rows of the lot.

It was now about 3 minutes to show time. I obviously wanted to get to the theater as quickly as possible but where the heck was it?! Just like the parking lot fiasco, there were no signs at all, nothing visible that looked like a theater, and so I was completely confused. I started making my way across the parking lot and ended up by my SUV friends, a young couple that seemed to be as lost as I was. The guy came up to me and asked, “Hey, do you know where the O’Shaughnessy is?”

I looked at him with a faint smile. “You’re asking me?! I lead you into the wrong parking lot!” We both laughed. At least we weren’t alone in our confusion.

I finally found a map of the campus and pointed in the proper direction. It was a bit of a walk but I finally made it. It was now exactly show time. I entered as quickly as possible and once again there were no signs on the walls about where to go. Like I had done previously, I simply choose a direction and hoped for the best. I had my ticket torn and then made my way to the door leading to the very front of the auditorium. I was standing behind 2 women that were also a bit confused. We opened the door together to see that the auditorium lights had just gone out and it was pitch black inside. Merchant’s band had just walked out on stage and the crowd was applauding. At this point, I uttered a mild obscenity, and the lady nearest to me giggled and said, “Shhh!”

Just then, Natalie Merchant came out on the stage and cheers from the crowd erupted. At the same time, I was trying to figure out where the heck my seat was and I was a bit confused. There were no ushers in sight and the only “worker” was the security guard sitting on the stage. He directed me to a row that just didn’t seem right but he also informed me that my seat number was way down on the left side of the auditorium, whereas I had entered via the right side doors. It made sense that I should just walk out the doors and go all the way around the other side.

While I was doing my walk, I ran into the SUV couple again and promptly said, “Why, hello again! I’m still lost!” I then made my way around the left side and through the front doors. I was standing behind 2 couples who were just coming back from the bar area. As we made our way through the door, Natalie Merchant, on stage, said, “Wow…they’re still coming in through the doors.” She was literally looking right at us! As I was trying to make my way to my seat as quickly as possible, she said, in a rather annoyed tone, “Come in, people…the show has started…” pretty much in my direction. How embarrassing! I hate when people arrive late and now I was “that guy”! Ugh!!

Anyhow, that was my fiasco in regards to getting to the show and so I had missed Merchant’s introduction speech about the project and such. She had not performed any music up until this point. She introduced the first song which was “The Sleepy Giant” and had only sung about 2 lines when she started coughing out of control. I’ve never seen this before in a show, although I’m sure it happens quite frequently. It was very obvious that her throat had clogged and she very calmly told the band, who was still playing the music without her singing, “We need to start over”. A few moments earlier, a couple more people had entered and sat down in the front row of the theater. Merchant tried desperately to clear her throat but it wasn’t cooperating. After numerous coughs, she did her best to lighten the moment with mild humor. She finally told the audience, “I hate to admit this to you but I should probably be one of those people who should live in a bubble. I think what happened was that someone who just came in had strong perfume and I got a big whiff of it.” Considering this was the first song, I had minor doubts about how the show was going to go. Within a matter of moments, though, the band restarted the song and Merchant’s voice came back as powerful as ever. I must say that she handled the whole thing very calmly and professionally.

From here, the whole regular show, meaning before the encores, was completely focused on the new album as I had hoped and predicted. Merchant talked and explained tidbits of information before each and every song and at times it almost felt like more of a lecture than a “rock” concert. Having said that, it was an absolutely brilliant presentation of the songs and extremely informative, allowing the audience to get a deeper glimpse into the project. Merchant also had a fairly large screen behind her which displayed various slides which she worked herself via a clicker device. There were pictures of the poets themselves, some illustrations from various works, and so on. The pictures of the poets were absolutely fantastic, at times showing off a side of the artist that I didn’t previously pick up on. Most of the slides were black and white and quite beautiful in their own rite. Some actually added a mildly eerie atmosphere that created an unprecedented mood within the auditorium. The presentation, at least for me, gave me a connection to the work in a very remarkable sort of way.

Merchant’s voice, once it was fully back, was simply beyond words through the entire evening, constantly outdoing itself. It filled and echoed around the interior of the theater and seemed as dense as fog over a harbor. It’s interesting because when Merchant speaks to the audience, she uses a rather soft and quiet tone. Then, when she starts singing, the volume and thickness of her voice is about 10 times her speaking voice. The sound in general in the theater was also amazing, probably due to the concrete walls and such. It was mixed perfectly and it really made the music stand out. It was one of those rare shows when all the various elements came together and worked perfectly in unison.

Merchant’s persona throughout the evening was also interesting. She completely exudes confidence in everything she does, even coughing, and seems to really speak her mind. She made several comments that made me a bit shocked, one even about how the theater seemed “cold” upon arrival to sound check due to all the concrete, and how she was worried for a bit about how the show would unfold. I believe she even compared the interior of the building to a concrete bunker. Whereas most artists are busy thanking the theater and its’ owners endlessly, Merchant went the opposite direction and I’ve just never heard anyone do that before. The funny part was she was absolutely correct; it does like a bit like a prison in there! But, just as she later pointed out, no matter what it looked like, they ended up making “beautiful music” that evening and the sound was impeccable. So, ironically, I really quite recommend the theater, especially for its’ intimate setting.

There was also an interesting moment when two gentlemen came and sat down in the very first row during the middle of a song. There had been no one sitting there for the entire performance and clearly Merchant had noticed this. She turned around on stage for a bit during the song and then turned back to see these two gentlemen now sitting there, probably like a hocus pocus sort of thing. She did the most hilarious double take, right in the middle of singing a phrase, and then gave a small smile/smirk. I could only imagine what it was that she was thinking and it made me want to wi-fi connect to her private thoughts.
Stand out songs were “Bleezer’s Ice-Cream”, “Adventures of Isabel”, and “The Peppery Man” which simply “rocked” the house. Like only a very small handful of shows do, it was so amazing that it actually brought a tear to my eye. The strange part was that, while I was sitting there like many others in amazement, some people were actually walking out! I couldn’t understand it. Were they late for another engagement? Did they not know or like any of the new material and they only came to hear Merchant’s older hits? If so, didn’t they understand that she’d probably get to those during the encore, so why leave then?! I was a bit puzzled and halfway tempted to follow someone and ask but that would have meant missing the show.

The first part of the performance lasted about an hour and a half. After a short break, the screen disappeared and the first encore began. Merchant played four tracks, none of which were the big hits that were probably expected. One track was “Life is Sweet”, quite a lovely rendition that was rather moving. All four songs were a bit slower and more mysterious, if you will, and quite enjoyable. My favorite was “The Worst Thing” from the “Motherland” album which truly held a strange mystique that was quite captivating.

The second encore completely consisted of four of her biggest hits. Like I’ve already stated, I’m not a big fan of most of these tracks but I must say that they came off much more to my tastes using this more diverse band and arrangement. One of the real highlights was Merchant calling local artist Jevetta Steele to the stage, who happened to be in the audience that evening, to help her sing “Kind and Generous”. From what I gathered, Merchant and Steele met back in the 80’s and actually sang on 10,000 Maniacs’ “Trouble Me”. “Kind and Generous” isn’t exactly my favorite tune on Earth but the energy between the two was amazing and it really captivated the entire audience in a random and impromptu sort of way. This ultimately ended the show and what an amazing ending it was, filled with multiple hugs between Steele and Merchant.

It truly was a show like no other. It’s funny because there were so many issues throughout the evening, starting with her voice tickle and then moving on to many forgotten lyrics, misses of portions of songs, etc. In the end, none of it mattered; in fact it literally made the show even more endearing. For any fan of “Leave Your Sleep”, all I can say is that if you have the chance to see her live on this tour, you simply must for it’s not to be missed.

Bill Frisell Still Amazes...

I had the pleasure of seeing Bill Frisell perform last week at the Dakota Jazz Club in downtown Minneapolis. This particular show was billed as “Bill Frisell’s Beautiful Dreamers”, referring to the new album that’s coming next month of the same name. The trio, consisting of Eyvind Kang and Rudy Royston, gave us a sneak peek at the new music.



I never fully know what to expect when I see Frisell live. The only hint I ever get is by looking at who’s appearing with him, and seeing Rudy Royston on the bill tipped me off that it would probably be leaning more avant garde, my personal preference. The show did not disappoint. It was moody, at times slightly bizarre, and other times quite lovely. Frisell really looked comfortable with both the band and the material and it was definitely one of the better shows I’ve seen him do in awhile. The album should definitely be exciting! Frisell was playing a white custom made Tele styled guitar that had a standard Gibson-esque block headstock (I have no idea what make it was).