Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Great show last night at the Iron Horse, starting with raison d'enter (and good friend and uberliberal) Peter Siegel, who squeaked out five-or-six songs ranging from shanty classics to folk-raps to a fun poppy ditty about his wife's polkapolka polka dot bathing suit. We sat with Peter's parents, his wife (and my friend and coworker) Michelle, and their 4 month old Zinnia, a round-legged cutie who incidentally spends two mornings a week with my own spouse while her parents work. Willow stayed with Ginny -- it was nice to have a date after all these months as the three of us.

Main act Crooked Still, an americana band featuring banjo, vocal, standup bass and-of-all-things cello, who we'd seen from a distance at Falcon Ridge way back in July, was funky and consistent, though their set wasn't much different from a) their album, and b) their Falcon Ridge sets.

Happily, Peter and his back-ups Ellen (percussion) and Naomi (fiddle) managed to sell all 25 tix required by the house, so there's a good chance he'll be asked back again. Unhappily (for Crooked Still, at least), that accounts for a good two thirds of the house last night. If you're listening, Aoife, it might be time to consider broadening the repertoire a bit.

Then tonight localfolkie Erica Wheeler did a show in the student center, with some coworkers opening. Nice set, actually -- and a sweet femmefolk cover of that old Garcia standard "I Know You Rider," which is always fun -- though the students didn't really appreciate it: most didn't come, and those who did didn't stay long (or, worse, hung out in the back of the student center and yelled at each other like, well, adolescents). Erica's's off to the Boston Folk Festival (darn, I knew I was supposed to be in Boston this weekend) to lead songwriting workshops tomorrow, so you know she's got the creds.

As for the mayhem: crossing the wide bridge high over the Connecticut River this afternoon on my way from Info Commons coverage to class the treads on the Grand Marquis's back passenger side tire flew off with such violence it hit the fuel pump safety-off switch under the car and left me stranded. Luckily, a good samaritan stopped to give me a ride before the floods came (and I mean "good samaritan" sincerely -- he had to move tracts off the seat to make room for my sorry ass). Unluckily, I never ended up covering the back window after the glass slid off the track, and the tow truck came long after the deluge began. Thanks to Darcie who saved my ass by driving what will now be forever known as "the good car" to sit in the rain and wait for the tow truck while I taught blogging for the first day of Ed Tech 101.

More on this later, surely -- I'm beginning to think the damn car is cursed. Shame, really, given how well it started out.

Comments:

it SUCKS that they gotta hold all the good fests at the same time. !#$!@$#!@$#

They held the Boston folk fest the same time they held the New Haven folk fest. One had Arlo and a Roche, one didn't. Wanna guess which one I saw?

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