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Saturday supper

I made pork tenderloin roasted in a salt crust. I wanted to use the leftover ball of salt & flour playdough I’d made, since I’d only needed abut half the batch of dough to sculpt my repose for the book fest.


I thought I might get trouts at the farmer’s market this morning, but when we passed by the booth, it was cold and uninspiring. Instead, I walked over to the Conscious Carnivore, a local and organic meat place, and got a little piece of pork tenderloin, just under 2#. I thought I might do beef, but they didn’t have any.

I kind of used this Alton Brown recipe, but using my playdough instead of a new batch of dough, and for a much smaller piece of meat, and pork not beef. I think I had too much moisture inside the dough – maybe the ice crystals on the frozen rosemary I scattered on the bottom of the dough package. I certainly didn’t slice one end and pull the meat out – I just kind of cut in on the side where juices had leaked out, like they do with other kinds of rolls, like strudels, when they cook, and pulled the meat out with a fork. But the meat was really good – moist, a tiny bit pink as we have come to decide is OK for pork.

We ate it with a few roasted potatoes, and a big salad – greens from the market, and the potatoes, were, too – last year’s wintered over.

Pictures? um, no – but the potatoes looked a lot like this:

Roasted potatoes with thyme

Roasted potatoes with thyme


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My week

If you think the week starts on Sunday, then mine started back in Indianapolis. I got up and made a pot of coffee in the room, wrote a blog post, and then got packed and dressed. I checked out and put my stuff in the car, although to find the car, I had to walk up and down a few levels in the parking ramp under the Pan Am Plaza – which seemed kind of desolate to me, and just realized that because they closed the ice skating rinks there last summer.

I found the closest ATM – not the greatest experience – the plastic door of the money dispenser was cracked and loose, and 2 of my $20s blew away, although I got them back. I went to the expensive Starbucks again, and got an iced coffee for the road.

If you think the week starts on Monday, then mine started in Chicago. I got up and made coffee, with my pour over cup top Melita filter holder, and then had two online meetings with students. I had a peanut butter & chocolate Kind bar for breakfast, and then I went to meet John. The plan was get coffee, and we ended up at Le Pain Quotidian. We each got a pot of their coffee, which was better than the cafe au lait’s I had drunk there before – hotter and stronger. John ordered a ham & cheese croissant that was good; I got a carrot muffin that was heavy and doughy.

I drove back to Madison, and got home at about 3:30, 4:00ish. I dropped my bags at home, and then took the car back to the UW Fleet Lot, behind the bike shop and Mickie D’s on Regent St. Walked home on the bike path, and got unpacked. While I was on I-90 in Illinois, the gas gauge on UW Fleet hybrid seemed to be dropping precipitously – so, although I was trying to hold out for Belvidere, I stopped for gas at the exit before, where there’s a giant truck stop. Depressing dark bathrooms, where the stall dividers hang crooked, really crummy paneling and ceilings, in the kind of cheaply built in the ’70s or ’80s structure that can only be knocked down and start over, but the owners can’t afford to. I bought a pack of Reese’s, but then I still stopped at Starbucks at Belvidere, and got a cookie, thus using up just about all my calories for the day. Regardless, I still felt hungry at dinner time, and heated up a serving of the matzoh spinach cheese pie, and ate it with Pasqual’s corn chips. I plugged in my work computer in the kitchen and tried to clean up email, and then re-watched Sunday’s episode of Game of Thrones.

On Tuesday after work I took the bus to the Sequoya Library, and then walked home from there. I had this big idea that I’d put the chicken Spanish rice I’d been planning on making into the oven, then go grocery shopping while it cooked. But I didn’t get home till 6:15. I still made the rice, using up the chicken thigh meat I’d frozen since Passover, when the bones were the shank bones on my seder plate, and some veggie broth that didn’t get into the matzoh ball soup, and a small can of V-8 lurking in the back of the fridge, and two hunks of cheese, where I pared off the mold and grated what was left. Oh, yea, and the end of a jar of salsa.

I went out for groceries after dinner, and tried to get just enough to last till the weekend – yogurts, and bananas, and some broccoli slaw.

Lunches on Tuesday and Wednesday were the slightly soft strawberries from Mark’s fridge that he asked us to eat up, with honey & pecans, and a bagel on Tuesday, and a carton of yogurt on Wednesday after I shopped.

Wednesday night, I had two online class meetings, one at 6:00 and the other at 7:30. I had Tricuits with spreadin’ cheese when I got home before the first class, then microwave s’mores on cinnamon graham crackers during my unexpected almost hour-long break between the two classes. After class, I needed ice cream. I scraped off the icey parts of the gallon plastic bucket of Schoep’s that had been in the freezer for too long, and ate what was left with diced candied ginger and maple syrup.

Schoep's bucket, waiting on top of the fridge, to get added to my collection. They used to be 5 qt. buckets, now they're only a gallon

Schoep’s bucket, waiting on top of the fridge, to get added to my collection. They used to be 5 qt. buckets, now they’re only a gallon

Thursday I had meetings all day, both phone and f2f, and the one that went 11:00 – 1:00 included lunch. After my first phoner,  I walked up State St. to get a card to send to John’s former assistant coach, from back when he played rec hockey, in 8th and 9th grade. The coach’s wife, who’s a year younger than me, died earlier this month, from some kind of dementia. I hate it when people younger than me die.

A few of us from last meeting of the day, which got out at 5:15, a mere 45 minutes late, adjourned to the Union and split a pitcher of beer and some fried cheese curds. Thursday was cold, but sunny, so I biked. When I got home, I asked Mark which leftovers he wanted – matzoh spinach cheese pie, or Spanish rice. I heated up the last of the spinach cheese pie, and we ate it with coleslaw. I think I went to bed early.

On Friday, I worked at home, trying to get all the emails sent for student practicum placements this summer. I didn’t make it – still have 5 or 6 left to do. We just ate whatever for dinner – I had Jarlsberg melted on ends of bread, with tomato jam and coleslaw. Mark bought tickets for the Barber of Seville, and we went off to that. It was a long show – we didn’t get home until after 11:00. One of the singers, playing Dr. Bartolo, I think realized that his long black robe and flat curled hat made him look a bit like Marilyn Manson, or maybe Jack White – and he camped it up. We had hot chocolate and went to bed.

Post-opera hot chocolate. I don't think Mark finished his - dumped it down the sink when he thought I wasn't looking.

Post-opera hot chocolate. I don’t think Mark finished his – dumped it down the sink when he thought I wasn’t looking.

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Digital Libraries in Indy


Last year I went to Indianapolis for the Public Library Association Conference – this year it was DPLAFest – the Digital Public Library of America.

I got a university fleet car, and drove down on Friday morning.

The random travel thing was at my first pit stop, I almost crashed into a guy on my way out of the ladies room, while he was on his way into the men’s. By the  time I got back outside with my bottle of water, he was leaning against a post by my UW car, having a smoke. He asked if I was from Madison, said his band had opened for Tedeschi-Trucks there. The Sharrows, they’re from Madison, too. He asked if I’d like a copy of the band’s CD. They were going to Nashville for a gig – I think I was talking to the keyboard player.

I planned to leave Madison at about 8:00 AM, and thought I’d be there, easy, by 1:00 or 1:30 – Google said it was 5 hours and 23 minutes. So I’d be at the conference for the last session at 3:00. Well, I didn’t get out until more like 8:15, and there was traffic, and I forgot that Indianapolis is on Eastern time. So I arrived at the conference more like 3:45, since it was a 25 minute walk from the hotel – and only made the last 20 minutes of the session.

But I was there in time for the reception.

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My friend Martin had a poster, about the Biodiversity Heritage Library, from the  Smithsonian. They’re a DPLA hub and my favorite source of cool images for iPhone wallpaper and all kinds of stuff. I got introduced to the executive director of Europeana – although I didn’t know that’s who she was until the next morning – just thought she was an interesting woman with a British accent. We chatted about image rights.

Martin was too tired to go to dinner. I was rooming with one of my students, Hannah, and we decided to go back to the hotel, and dump our stuff, and catch up on email, and then think about food.

At the reception, some of the programmer types were talking about a brew pub called Twodeep – so we went there, left the hotel at about 7:00. We got beers, but they didn’t have any food – just a pierogi truck out front. We decided to try a burger place called Bru Burger. We put our names in, and it was an hour wait, so we went across to the this divey bar, called the Old Point, where I’d had chili for lunch my last trip to Indianapolis. We sat at the bar, and were pretty immediately accosted by this totally trashed guy, who bought us shots with pickle backs, and a basket of chips. Introduced us to his wife, who was equally trashed. Said the bartender was his (chubby, gay) cousin. We escaped and went back to Bru Burger, and got our table pretty quickly. I had the Bru burger, Taleggio cheese, bacon and tomato jam. One review I read didn’t agree, but I thought the Taleggio was pleasantly melty and sharp, and a little stinky, even against all the other burger flavors. And we split a side of their very crunchy onion rings.


Saturday was all conference all day. I got coffee at the Starbucks closest to the hotel. Seemed like airport prices, $4.14 for my latte, even in my own cup.

There were bagels at the conference when we got there, and box lunches – I had chicken salad. It was all OK – the biggest problem was that the sessions were in the Indiana State Library, and the Historical Society – right across the street – but also at the Library at IUPUI, a 10-minute walk. And if you did not stay within the thematic tracks, there wasn’t enough commute time. I got lost trying to get to Lily Library and missed the first 20 minutes of a session, and it was almost 80°, so not much fun to be lost, and traipsing across parks in downtown Indianapolis, with all the other Saturday tourists.


Dan Cohen gave the closing remarks, and said, “like last night, you’ll self-organize for drinks and dinner”. Which meant, since I’m not one of the cool kids, and Hannah had headed back to Ohio, and I was  too shy to ask the Europeana director what her dinner plans were, that I had a bag of chips and an apple I snagged from the box lunches, eaten over my computer, for dinner. I went out for frozen yogurt, after.

Frozen yogurt in Indianapolis - salted pretzel, and double chocolate, topped with coco puffs

Frozen yogurt in Indianapolis – salted pretzel, and double chocolate, topped with coco puffs

I got back to the hotel at about 7:30. It’s an old train station. One side has working trains, while what the desk clerk called the quiet side, when he checked me in, has dry-docked trains that they rent for parties. So there was a loud party – I think a wedding; people singing along to Don’t Stop Believin’. But I could hardly complain about noise at 8:30 on a Saturday. And, to the hotel’s credit, the noise ended precisely at midnight, and the place was silent by 12:15.

I got up and drove to Chicago on Sunday morning. Mark git us tickets to see Carousel at the Chicago Opera House – ooh la la for a Sunday afternoon. Despite the fact that Rodgers & Hammerstein played constantly at my house when I was a kid, much beloved by my voice-major-at-Bennington mother, I didn’t know that Bonnie Raitt’s dad, John Raitt, was the original Billy Bigelow on Broadway in 1945. And I completely forgot that You’ll Never Walk Alone is from carousel. When we came out, it was pouring, and we decided to walk as fast  as we could to go eat at Shaw’s Crab House. The entrees came while we sere still eating our salads – an utterly gigantic wedge salad that we split – but we were too hungry to care, and just had the waiter pile it on. We had filet mignon & scallops and shrimp, and Mark subbed a crab cake for his scallops. And mashed potatoes.

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Wednesday, my last day of the WI Film Fest



On Wednesday, I was scheduled for my last Film Fest volunteer shift from noonish – 11:45 – to 4:00. I put on the work calendar that I was on vacay, but actually worked at home in the morning.

Had a big bowl of cereal for breakfast, and then walked to Sundance at Hilldale.

I had one ticket for Gemma Bovery, and planned to swap one of my vouchers for a ticket for Rachael. We had a fairly elaborate scenario – I gave her a voucher, and took the other three with me, along with my real ticket. I was going to work my shift, have a snack, and then get in the ticket holders line, and go in and save seats. Rach would get in the rush line, and swap her voucher for a ticket, and meet me. Of course, being us, there were multiple texts and check-ins, but it all went fairly much accordingly, although with one big improvement: when the rush ticket sales table was set up at about 4:45, I went and begged, and got a real ticket for Rach (pictured above).

I felt pretty good about my volunteer shift. I got the heat turned down in the theater – the venue manager for that afternoon was a Sundance employee, which helped – and I knew how to turn on & off the spotlights for the introducers.  And I finally figured out the damn walkie-talkie. I think I’ll try to do it again next year.

We got perfect seats, and settled in for a pleasant evening. Probably the only downside is that instead of a snack, I got a beer to drink while I waited in line. I kind of nursed that beer until almost film time, and then got another to take into the movie, to drink with the popcorn Rach bought. Which unfortunately put me to sleep – I’m still a little embarassed. I missed the part of the film where Gemma’s husband left her.

I liked it – a gentle French critique of an aging boomer, Martin, (ex-bobo parisien = bourgeois bohemian from Paris) who moves to a small village in Normandy and becomes a baker. He’s obsessed with literature, especially Flaubert. Gemma Arterton plays his new neighbor, who he also become obsessed with. She hasn’t read the classics, and instead has moved to the country to pursue her vision of the good life.

We walked home – it was still light – and I threw a few too many handfuls of salted nuts and couple of dates down on top of the beer to sober up.

Whew – sort of caught up. It’s Sunday morning, time to drive from Indy  to Chi-town, so I’ll have to tell you about the digital library conference later.

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WI Film fest ’15, Sunday – Tues.

On the Sunday of the film fest, we went to three movies.

We started with a double feature: The last seder, by Marc Kornblatt, and Off the Menu: Asian American, by Grace Lee. Both were good – Lee’s was a little more wide-ranging. She went to Texas, where she visited the sushi king of Texas, a Chinese-American family who make tofu and turn it into tamales and other products, and then headed to Wisconsin, to the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, where six people were shot in 2012, by a crazy person, who then shot himself. Kornblatt visited his aging parents in New York.

Then we went to Worlds of Tomorrow, a set of short animated films (list as .pdf if the fest website goes away), that took its name from one of the films, Don Hertzfeldt‘s World of Tomorrow. I think I liked the clay-mation French film, La Buche de Noel, the best.

Still from the Christmas log

Still from the Christmas log

Mark took off for Illinois after the shorts. I was going to walk around the square, and get coffee at Colectivo, but all of a sudden there was cold rain, so I went to Ian’s and got a slice of potato pizza instead. And texted with John about his research paper.

My last film of the day was White God. Summed up in a sentence, “Music hath charms to calm the savage beast.” Mostly, the dogs were better actors then the people – the relationship between the teenage girl and her dad played out stilted – and only the really bad people got their throats ripped out.

In between movies on Sunday, I made my entry for the Edible Books Fest, the repose from Mistress Masham’s Repose, made out of salt and flour playdough. I think I could have done better if I wasn’t so rushed, additional proof that over-busyness kills creativity. You could drop off your book entry at UW Memorial Library any time between 8:00 & 11:00 AM. I had the repose on its own tray, and the cake base on another, extra icing, spatulas, and, most critically toothpicks. I got a 15 minute parking spot, and went in and tooth-picked everything together, and made it to work by 9:00.


I worked and had meetings all day, arriving at the book fest in time to view all the books, hear the winners announced, and eat a piece of grocery store sheet cake that I really regretted. Way too sweet frosting, tasteless cake. We didn’t get to hear the winners until after an oddly long interview with one of the invited judges, who is working on a PhD in food science studying ice cream, but was also a participant in the Amazing Race – which is what the interview was all about. Ah, librarians and pop culture – you could tell it was a library audience, because even though it was a little weird – I mean, it was the edible book fest, so why was it the Amazing Race interview? – everyone sat politely and listened quietly. I, of course, didn’t win anything, yet again.

I came home, ate a sandwich, and went to volunteer at the film fest. I had kind of a late shift, 7:00 to 10:00. Everything went smoothly. I tried to do a little grocery shopping after, but Sentry was really picked over on a Monday night that late. I bought a decent looking inorganic apple, and a box of greens, but couldn’t get eggs or bananas.

On Tuesday, I had a late class at 8:00, so no film fest – I made this spinach matzoh pie to try to use up leftover matzoh from passover. Worked pretty well – the casserole used up the opened box, but I still have two unopened boxes, because somehow I went nuts and bought three boxes.

And, even though I am writing this on Saturday, from a digital library conference in Indianapolis, this only brings us up to Tuesday – and my film fest went though Wednesday. To be continued …

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Before it all becomes a blur …


Thursday, Saturday, Sunday tickets

Thursday, Saturday, Sunday tickets

Although I think it already has.

Since I last wrote – over a week ago, when I was making cookies for election night – I’ve volunteered for and watched a bunch of movies at the WI Film Fest.

On Wednesday, after work, I went to my film fest volunteer training, then I came home and ate a microwave s’more and too many extra marshmallows on the side.

On Thursday, I had online class at 7:00 PM. I came home and made the leftover Passover chicken scallopine (boneless chicken breast, pounded, dredged in matzoh meal, and fried in olive oil, then kept warm in the oven for some ridiculously long time while we do the Haggadah) into a kind of chicken parm with tomato sauce and cheese. We ate it with garlic-buttered-spaghetti, then I had class from 7:00 to 8:00 and finally, we went to see Uncle John at Union South. Rural violence, inter-cut with a cute love story, millennials in Chicago, Uncle John’s nephew, a video production guy at a company that makes commercials.

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Friday I worked my first volunteer shift. Which went OK, except that the second showing of Uncle John – for which half of Lodi, Wis., where it was filmed, turned out – got started late, in part due to my inexperience as a lead volunteer. Then we went to the symphony, where the soloist was Christopher Taylor, a pianist on the faculty at UW, and then, for the 2nd half they did Anton Bruckner’s (1824-1896) Symphony No.7 in E Major, which was omigod 66 minutes long. I could not stay awake.

On Saturday we did four 4 movies. We started with Bloomin’ Mud Shuffle – the mud being as in drywall, about a young guy in Indiana (although I think they filmed it in Berwyn IL). The main character, who’s really going nowhere, kind of reminded me of some of my kid’s friends, who didn’t go to college and worked crummy jobs, and drank and smoked too much. We were in the second row, and I was seasick – I was queasy clear through our next film.

Which was In Order of Disappearance, with Eric the vampire’s dad, as a citizen vigilante in Norway, who goes after a bunch of gangster drug dealers who killed his son. And, oh by the way, his brother was part of gang for awhile. The gangsters were all done in by their own greed, and the kingpin was delightfully hateable.

The we hoofed it as fast as we could to The Connection (La French), a Mad-Men-perfect recreation, not of the 1960s and early ’70s, but the late 1970s and 80s – when disco queens and hippie chicks wore their hair long and straight, and halter tops and flares – or bell bottoms, as we called them back then. Madison band VO5 would’ve been right at home. The most challenging thing about the movie was that the lead good guy and lead bad guy looked quite similar – they both were French heart throbs a la Jean Paul Belmondo. The good guy had a cleft chin, and bad guy had a smoother more Italianate profile. The good guy was also in The Artist.

French leading men, left to right: Gilles Lellouche, Jean Dujardin, Jean-Paul belmondo

French leading men, left to right: Gilles Lellouche, Jean Dujardin, Jean-Paul Belmondo

After, we walked home, got the car, and we bought sandwiches in the drive through at Milios, that we ate in our last movie, Tu Dors Nicole. French Canadian kids in summer, watching the house while mom & dad are away, reminded me a lot of my own teenage years – down to band practice in the living room. It was b&w, and probably not quite enough happened for two hours of movie. One of the reviews says, “when the summer seemed like it would last forever.

And I think that’s all I can do for tonight – I’ll have to tell you about Sunday to Wednesday next time.

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A chilly April evening

I was going to go for a little bike ride after work – but the wind was cold and sharp and it looked like rain, so I decided against it.

Years ago, I did an April is the cruellest month supper – and it was a warm day, almost too hot for the pork and potatoes I served.

I had another of the Passover chicken and avocado sandwiches on wheat toast with Siracha mayonnaise that I also had yesterday for dinner. The Passover chicken is scallopini – small pieces of boneless breast that I pounded and then dredged in matzoh meal and fried in olive oil. I froze some and left  some out, thinking I’d make a kind of chicken Parmesan – but I might have to have another sandwich tomorrow. Especially because I’m working the polls, 1:00 PM to close. I might be able to eat a hot breakfast at home – I have an early meeting, after which I can come back, eat, and work a bit before going to my assigned polling place. Which is the same one where I vote, so I can walk there. Means a cold, packed, supper, though. Hmm, wonder if I should make some cookies or bars to take.

I think it will be Marion Cunningham’s oatmeal cookies.

Oatmeal cookies - these are actually vegan cookies, from a School Woods event for a local vegan group in 2009, but the Cunningham ones will look similar

Oatmeal cookies – these are actually vegan cookies, from a School Woods event for a local vegan group in 2009, but the Cunningham ones will look similar

And now it’s really raining – glad I’m inside.

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Passover desserts

In pajamas making desserts until 11:00 – not so bad for good Friday/Passover/my one real day off of UW spring break! [answered one work email so far; see if I can keep it that way].


coconut custard that we'll eat with strawberry-rhubarb compote, & Cool Whip - not fully non-dairy but kosher enough for us


Olive oil chocolate mousse


Olive oil chocolate mousse in shooters


Olive oil chocolate mousse in ramekins


Olive oil chocolate mousse in ramekins


Individual mousse, with pistachio nuts & cool whip = lunch for the cook


matzoh balls in veggie broth

Both types of puddings say to top with pistachios – so I’ll have to chop some. We’ll see if I shell the salted ones, from the giant Costco bag I bought at the holidays, when I still had 3/4 of the prior giant Costco bag in the pantry, or use some of the already shelled, unsalted ones that’re in the freezer, also bought for holiday baking … Now to attack the mountain of dishes in the sink. The plan is clean up, eat breakfast, and go for a walk. Maybe a little work when I get back, maybe just the rest of the Passover cooking.

OK, biked to the library, came home, shelled and chopped most of the UN-salted pistachios I bought by accident for the super-bowl-party-that-wasn’t, and made salted pistachio pudding topping by putting the nutmeats and a few good pinches of flakey salt into a ziploc baggie, and beating them with my rolling pin. Now one last email gander for the day, and back to Passover cooking.

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Old & out of it

We went to see the Decemberists on the Friday night of our last Chicago cultural weekend; 3/27, my brother’s birthday.

It was my call – I wanted to see them. I like the Decemberists because they’ve played with the other artists who I really follow – Peter Buck and Robyn Hitchcock, primarily. And, although I think he comes to it by way of reading and being an English & creative writing major, Colin Meloy has that folk rock musicologist outlook on music that I like – he can write songs that sound like traditional folk songs by way of rock & pop. They didn’t do any on Friday, but it also means he chooses interesting covers.

The show was at the Chicago Theater, which was a pleasant upgrade from the Riviera, where we saw the Punch Brothers in February. One of the crumbling movie palaces in Chicago, that now mostly have live music, the Riviera, the Uptown (closed, but I saw the Grateful Dead there in 1978), and the Aragon Ballroom, in a three block radius, and the Vic, a little further south, and a little less crumbled.

The Chicago Theater seemed spotless in comparison. We were in the 2nd balcony. There was a young couple next to us, and during the opening act (Alvvays, from Toronto – I liked their guitar player and chick singer a lot; their drummer was a smasher), the woman warned me that they’d probably be kind of loud, and I should just let her know if they bothered us. I said I’d probably do a set list in my phone (below) for the Decemberists, so I’d be lighting up, and she said that’d be OK. Later, at the break, I think because I’m old, she asked if I’d been listening to the Decemberists for a long time. I said not that long – I mean, they’ve been playing for like 10 years, and I didn’t really listen to them until 2009 or so – and I got into them because Peter Buck is on the King is Dead. To which she said get outta town – she had no idea – even though she pretty much knew every word to every song, and sang along loudly. Which I might’ve hated on, but Meloy asked us all not to.  She knew the words to the two (out of three) from the King is Dead that Buck plays on, what I always call arms of the angels, but is really Calamity Song, and Down by the Water. And Decemberists’re pals with Robyn Hitchcock, and Gillian Welch, too.

Anyways, at the end of the long Crane Wife  song cycle, I kind of looked back at them and they were making out, so I thought, OK, I’ll look away. But when we sat back down, she turned to me, and said excitedly, “He just proposed to me!” and showed me the ring in the box. I shook hands with both of them and said congratulations. We discussed whether she should wear the ring on her right or left hand.

I liked their backdrop, although it made me nostalgic for the days when I thought I’d be making that kind of stuff for bands. When I had a guitar player boyfriend, and I painted all the guys in the band’s guitar cases, and sewed them shirts, and patched their jeans. The backdrop was a quilt, with holes cut into it so things could show through, worlds, birds, and heroic females, like the cover of the new album.

Here’s the set list:

The singer addresses his audience
Calvary captain
Down by the water
Oh hank –> arms of the Angels; really Calamity Song
Till the water’s all long gone
Hazards of love – wanting comes in waves; really The Wrong Year
Make you better
The crane wife 3
I called it – Dirty jam –> pirates shipwreck
The Island: Come and See/The Landlord’s Daughter/You’ll Not Feel the Drowning/I will dress your eyelids
Los Angeles, I’m Yours
Carolina Low
The wanting comes in waves – repaid
Rake’s progress
16 military wives
A Beginning Song – I called get yourself to rights

What a gift – 12/17/12
The Mariner’s Revenge Song – with kids and a whale who all danced across the stage

I guess the Minus 5 opened for the Decemberists this tour out in Portland – and WTF, how did I miss this, the Minus 5 were here in Madison at the beginning of the month, playing in a basement (uploaded by Steve Manley of B-Side). I guess by the time I got the email from Yep Roc, the show here had already happened, and the one with Tweedy in Chicago sold in 5 seconds. But I’m really sorry I missed them – after all, those guys are as old as me, Scott McCaughey & Peter Buck are anyways, so I wouldn’t of felt so old.


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Chicago entertainments

Lunch at Au Cheval

We had the booth in the lower left

We had the last high booth in the lower left

We had burgers – they’re messy, with egg and aioli. The aioli is really good. I should’ve gotten bacon on mine and maybe skipped the egg. I liked the sweeter pickles that came in my Bloody Mary better than the ones that came on the burger – so I swapped them. I also put the sport peppers that came in the Mary on the burger. I used the fries to soak up the messy egg yolk. 

Dinner at Eataly


Focaccia with fresh tomato


Revolution Eugene Porter


Bread & olive oil


Pasta with sausage and rapini

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