A Faithful Man

On Tuesday night I took perhaps the best study break in the history of study breaks: an outing to see Lee Fields and the Expressions in concert at the Masquerade. Lee Fields is listed under the R&B/Soul genre on iTunes. He delivers. The man glittered under the lighting on stage, wearing a metallic silver suit. Textbook crazy eyes? He's got 'em. Every time the song lyrics mentioned "ladies", he'd point to those of us on the first few rows. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I do believe I made eye contact and was pointed at by Mr. Fields. After his song about all the lovely ladies, he asked a gal on the front row for her name, she gave it, and he responded, "I betchyo man is pleeeased." He asked another gal for her name, she gave it, he responded, "I betchyo man is sssatisfied." Obviously, Lee has the pipes to be a soul singer, but he also has some of the wickedest dance moves I've ever seen. He must have done at least seven double pirouettes in the course of one song, with intricate footwork and little kicks in between. The man is a star. The silver suit jacket came off halfway through his set, and when he came back on stage to sing an encore, he had taken off his shirt as well and only wore a shiny, red, damask vest. Swag.

Molly, who exactly attends Lee Fields concerts other than weirdos like you? Well, first off I'd like to point out that I have friends who happen to be weirdos like me and are game to follow my whims every once and a while (and probably now more often since this one ended up so amazing). Other than that, though, the Lee Fields crowd is a diverse set. Some old folks hanging around the periphery, some 30-40 somethings jiving in the thick of things, some trendy 20 somethings with strange clothing and matted hair. One elderly Asian man in a subtle wolf sweatshirt walked up and down the length of the front of the stage, taking pictures using the viewfinder of his digital camera. One 30 something black man bopped back and forth to the beat while eating some chicken fingers. Two identical looking, 4'5"-ish, plump black women in hoodies and beanies danced all night long and were occasionally joined in their groove by short, elderly white men. A good time was definitely had by all.

After the show, Lee came out to the merch table and signed anything that was purchased. I got my CD signed and asked for a picture with the legend. He said, "Oh yes, let's do that. Let's do that."  We did that. And guess what? Lee is a thumbs-upper, just like yours truly. What a guy.

I have to say, probably the reason I enjoyed this concert so much is the extremely high ridiculous factor of the whole night. It's no secret that I love the ridiculous. It's by far and away my favorite thing in the world. And Molly at a crazy-eyed R&B/Soul/Funk concert with dancing maybe twins and old people is pretty dang ridiculous, don't you think?

Who Let the Dogs Out?

I have never grooved so much as I did last night. The occasion? Dr Dog at the Masquerade. what. a. show.

The evening kicked off with Cotton Jones, a very entertaining opening band. With lyrics like, "we are all chickens in the dark", "home is where you stop a minute and clean your teeth", and "I heard it in the toilet bowl, you're calling out my name", you know they're going to be good. The lead wore a straw cowboy hat with about 2 extra inches in the crown. They also had a trombonist/tubaist. Seriously, y'all, good stuff.

From the first note of Dr Dog's set, the entire crowd was pulsing, throbbing, thrumming in a universal rhythm. There was just an inescapable energy that filled the room and swept all of us up with it. Talk about fun. It was a groovefest; quite probably a top five concert experience for this girl.

In other news, I just finished reading Eat, Shoots, and Leaves, a book all about proper punctuation, and I have to say that it was amazing. Lynne Truss keeps things conversational and interesting, while remaining informative. Go read it, enlighten yo'self, and punctuate. It frightens me how something I've always felt to be so important is becoming more and more obsolete. (For anyone who went back to check my punctuation to call me out for reading a punctuation book and still making mistakes - kudos.)

Fall Break Recap

HEY I WENT TO TEXAS. It was fantastic.

Fall Break started with my 8 AM circuits lab, which usually makes me want to flip a lid but this week we were dealing with combinatorial logic - easily my favorite topic in all of circuit theory. It didn't hurt that we were able to finish lab in under the allotted 3 hours. My flight to San Antonio made a pit stop at DFW, and it was trying to sit so close to home for an hour or so without being able to get there. I got over it, though, once I boarded the flight for San Antone and the grooviest brother around. I'll try to refrain from singing his praises too much, so I don't make him blush, but he was waiting at the airport to pick me up before I even got there, took me straight to downtown San Antonio, and directed us to world famous Tex-Mex. Street vendors around the restaurant were peddling all sorts of Mexican wares, so the only obvious course of action was for us to try on multiple goofy hats and purchase the best as finishing touches on our ACL hipster ensembles, and then wear them until we got back to his apartment, right? Right. The night was still young at that point, though, so for good measure we got our minds blown by Looper and ate snuck-in sweetbreads in the theater. Actually sweet breads, as in pastries, not sweetbreads as in animal organs. There was a little confusion on this front, but we cleared it up. (Can I just say hallelujah for the advent of the smartphone? Innumerable are the times that I mention some offhand, unnecessary trivia that can only be validated by on the spot googling.)

Then the next day was ACL Day. Oh, glorious day. After a morning of music videos on the Youtube and an extremely successful trip to the HEB, we met up with some of Brandon's law school friends (who all happen to be wildly attractive ladies. props, Yo-Man) and caravanned down to weird old Austin, just in time for some more Tex-Mex before hitting Zilker Park. Now, I've had a POA for this day since the minute the schedule was released, opting for quality over quantity. So I saw Andrew Bird, The Shins, and Jack White. Ermehgehrdness I loved every minute of it. Andrew Bird was a whistling, violin strumming treat. The Shins were amazing, per usual. And Jack White was unbelievable. He's kind of my hero, and I was about 10 yards from the front of the crowd, right in the thick of things. Not only did he play stuff from his recent solo album, he also played gems from the Raconteurs and the White Stripes. Seven Nation Army, y'all. Live. I was in dorky Jack White lover heaven. Seriously, though, I could go on and on concerning that man. I'll spare y'all. All throughout the day we were subjected to short, albeit torrential, downpours, which just made the whole thing more fun and memorable in my opinion. Due to the rain, I didn't come away with too many pictures. Though I've also tried to stop focusing on picture taking at concerts in order to really enjoy the moment. I hardly ever go back and look at them, so what's the point?

Replete with live music, we filled our bellies with some Whataburger before settling in for the night. The next morning we breakfasted at a diner before parting ways, law students off to study for torts and yours truly passed into the able hands of my parents for the journey east. Where I got to Don Juan's as soon as possible. Then I exercised my power of being an exhausted college student home for a short break. And by that I mean I asked my mom to go to Hastings for me because I was really in the mood for a period drama. YOLO. She brought me Jane Eyre. I want to be Jane Eyre. I want to watch this movie every second for the rest of my life. It was great. The next day, because it would be silly to actually take a break on my break, I undertook to make a t-shirt quilt with my middle school t-shirts. I managed to finish the quilt top and starting the actual quilting before running out of time and thread. Something to look forward to for Thanksgiving, I suppose. That night I got to spend time with my practically sister. We are scarily similar and I love it. She helped me make a tutu for my Halloween costume at our family dinner without batting an eye. This is especially impressive when you consider the fact that "costume" wasn't at all mentioned in the proposition, which went sort of like this: "Will you help me make a tutu?" "Sure."

In short, I love live music, I love Jack White, I love my family, I love food, I love Texas, I love home. Let's do this again sometime, ok, Texas?

It's Almost Heeere

LET ME TELL YOU WHY I'M EMPHATIC ENOUGH TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS.

IN T-2 DAYS I WILL GO HERE

 TO SEE THIS GUY

 

AND WE WILL GO EAT THIS FOOD

 

THEN ROAD TRIP HERE

 

TO SEE THIS GUY 

 

 AND THESE GUYS

 BUT MAINLY THIS GUY

 

AFTER WHICH I WILL GO HERE 

 TO SEE THESE LOVIES

 AND EAT MORE OF THIS

 

 HALLELUJAH, FALL BREAK.

What Happened in Vegas

Um, so, I went to Vegas. Party on, Wayne! The American Nuclear Society Student Conference was held at UNLV this year. Yes, I went to Vegas for a nuclear convention. Nerd alert.

Apparently, you can find a measure of the radioactivity of the soil in a set radius by testing the honey that comes from the bees gathering pollen from plants in that radius. And Westinghouse has really big cranes. And pinches are cool. And that's just a sampling of what I retained, y'all.

I made a buddy from Idaho National Lab. Not that I called a half-day and left the seminar early or anything, but I did happen to be at In-and-Out Burger instead of in an afternoon technical session on Saturday. (I've heard so much about the place, I just had to try it out. Consensus? Good! but not Whataburger good...just sayin'.) As I stepped back from the counter to wait for my order, a man in a suit, who presumably noticed my extra fine $30 lady suit and official name badge, asked where I was from, if I was enjoying the conference, etc. After my initial concern at being caught skipping, I relaxed and struck up a conversation. Then a table opened up and he invited Katie and me to join him. So he told us all about Idaho and interning at INL and hiking and snow drifts and research. Pretty snazzy, especially for a chance meeting. Then I kept running into him off and on throughout the remainder of the conference, and we exchanged pleasantries and everyone was super impressed that I had a friend from Idaho. Well, they should have been, at least.

Like any good Tweetmaster, I covered that conference up and down. I tweeted puns. I tweeted pictures. I utilized the heck out of the official hashtag. I should have won an award.

I walked up and down the Strip. I looked at the lobbies of many famous hotels. I watched the Bellagio fountain show twice. I went to M&M World. I saw The Shins live in an open air rooftop nightclub pool. They were awesome. The opening act was awesome, but not really for the reasons they intended to be. First off, the lead singer wore a quiver. Filled with flutes. He had a quiver of flutes. Every song, he'd whip another one out and start toodle-dooing away. A totally obsolete member of the band was the one who took it the most seriously. He looked like someone's slightly annoying younger brother who they owed a favor so they let him stand behind some equipment and shake a tambourine. But he did so much more than that. He tambourined, maraca-ed, bongo-ed, SPAAAAACETIIIIIIIIMed, danced, you name it. It sprinkled throughout the opening act, then picked up at the end of their set so we had to stand in the cold, rainy, smoky night for a good bit until the rain let up and the Shins came on stage. So. Good. They were just flawless. And super indie trendie.

And now I'm one awesome experience, 100 Peanut M&Ms, 2 Atlanta-to-Las-Vegas-sized doses of cosmic radiation, and one pair of Vegas socks richer.

"This next song is about getting drunk in a club...no, it's not."

I wrote the previous post about Music Midtown many moons ago. Then I forgot to post it and it was lost in the blagosphere. Until now. It's timely. You'll see.

It really is no secret that I love concerts. In fact, this past Sunday I might have gone to my very favorite one yet. But I wouldn't put any stake into those words, if I were you, because I think every concert I go to is my very favorite one yet.

It's also no secret that I love Twitter. It's probably my very favorite form of social media. This Sunday, for all of the humor, wit, charm, and facetiousness I've poured into the outlet, it gave back to me in a huge way. I happened to read "Highway to Atlanta" from William Fitzsimmons on Sunday afternoon, Bing searched it, and discovered he was playing literally down the street from me on Sunday night. For $18. In a small, cozy venue. Yes ma'am, thank you. I jumped on that and bought a ticket without so much as a second thought. Then I tried to spread the word, but couldn't find any lovers to accompany me, so independent, big city Molly flew solo for a breathtaking adventure.

The venue was the upstairs of an "olde" bar. It was a William Fitzsimmons concert. [read: everyone of age and their mother was drinking PBR. it was a hipster fest. meanwhile, I was in a cardigan and Gap jeans.] I got there right when the doors opened, landing a front row slightly to the left spot, which I kept and no one pushed me or rubbed against me or anything. (Folksy concerts = perfect for people who don't like to be touched.) The opening act was the brother/sister duo Noah and Abby Gundersen. They were quite enjoyable. He played guitar and sang, while she played violin and provided vocal harmonies. After their set, I noticed one of Noah's guitar picks left on the stage. I caught the attention of the set-up man and asked for it. Score. And then it was William. He was positively affable. It felt like he was just your uncle's cool, weirdo friend who invites everyone over to listen to a folk jam sesh. It was brilliant. His music was wonderful, his presence was gracious and humble, his wit was sharp, his beard was luxurious, his commentary kept me in stitches. It was just all around a great experience. For his last song, he tuned up, then pointed out into the middle of the crowd. "I'm just going to come out right in the middle there, and everyone can gather around. Like a campfire." Yeah, right, he'd been cracking jokes all night, this was just another....then his face was right next to mine as he dismounted the stage immediately in front of me and walked past me right into the throng, playing his last song in the middle of the floor while we gathered round him like a campfire. Wondrous.

William Fitzsimmons

The Courage

Campfire time

 After the show, I hung around with a few other people, hoping for the chance to meet the artists. I talked to Abby first. She was delightful. Only 19 and touring the country with her brother in a band. Then I talked to Noah, and asked about the tattoo I'd been trying to read all the while he was onstage. Turns out it's a Peter Pan quote. And then it was William. I snagged a set list from the stage, and he autographed it for me, talked to me for a little bit, demurred at my compliments, and laughed when I rejoiced over being in such close proximity to the beard. Quality people, quality night, and well worth leaving the confines of my routine-based comfort zone.

Abby Gundersen

Noah Gundersen

Please note my awkward hand, on the left.

The man. The beard.

Music Midtown

{This was written on September 25, 2011 and left to rot. Oops. Better late than never, I suppose.}

It's no secret that I love concerts. I know I've said before that I prefer small, intimate venues, but after today's Music Midtown I'm not too sure - festivals and small venues might now be tied in my book. I just really love concerts.

Basically, Music Midtown was a full day of music in Piedmont Park. Two stages, multiple bands, lots of fun. When we got to the park, we bummed around in front of one of the stages, waiting for some band called Walk the Moon to come on. As we stood, a guy came around with a paper plate and asked if I wanted some face paint. The answer to this question is always yes, my friends. So, he proceeds to dot my face with purple and carries on his merry way. 15-20 minutes later, Walk the Moon takes the stage and THERE HE IS. Front and center, the face-painter is also the leadsinger/keys. And he touched my face. And all of us ended up being pleasantly surprised by their show, seeing as we had never heard of them before. Very nice. After their set was over, we continued to take in the atmosphere. The next band we actually stood and listened to fully was Manchester Orchestra. Then...

...The Black Keys. Since we stood at the stage for the hour in between Manchester Orchestra and the Black Keys in order to move on up through the crowd, we witnessed the set-up process. It included inflating a giant Tiki man, tire, and hanging a giant inflatable dreamcatcher. Um, yes. I loved their show. It was fun and you could tell that they were enjoying it as well as the crowd. On that note, I will say that I've never felt so strongly about the band enjoying the concert as much as the crowd as I did about Coldplay tonight. They were amazing, y'all. They played Yellow. They added an audience chorus at the end of The Scientist and Chris Martin proclaimed it "sounded fantastic". They covered Everybody Hurts in honor of R.E.M. They applauded the crowd. They sang a stanza of Georgia on my Mind as a prelude to Fix You. They were pretty great, and we were less than ten yards from the stage. All in all, a superb day.

I Couldn't Be Happier

So sometimes, I have really good days. Really, really, good days. Not like I'm trying to brag or anything, but I have really good days.

Today was a really good day. It was my last day of work, huzzah! Not that I didn't enjoy my job - I enjoyed it to the moon and back. It's just really exciting to end one phase of life and start a new one. And, being my last day, my boss took me out to lunch with my very favorite parents and two of my very favorite mission folk to one of my very favorite restaurants. Can't beat that. She also presented me with the sweetest "Thanks for being a good mission intern, I had lots of fun" token of appreciation. It's a bracelet. I'm wearing it right now.

If that isn't enough good crammed into one day, I got off work early, and got to come home and watch Project Runway with mi madre. Then two of our favorite girlies came by to pay a visit, and we got to talk about crafts and Project Runway and ladies spotted in Marshalls.

AND THEN...my dad came home from work with my new car! Yippee skippee! Just when things were starting to look bleak on the car front, this awesome prospect cropped up. I'm super pumped. I've never had "my own car" before - the one I've been driving since high school was a pass down from the brosky.

My parents have gone out to dinner with some friends. You would think eating alone would put a damper on such a good day, but I really like it from time to time. It helps, too, that my very favorite food group was on the menu. Sweet Potatoes. They deserve their own food group. Plus, I had Van Morrison blasting creating ambiance in the background to keep me company. After dinner, I retired to the playroom and starting making friendship bracelets while the music played. The CD finished after a while, and I got up to change it out, but became bold. I've been curious about turntables and records for a long while now, but I've never had the guts to do anything about it. Every so often I'd mention maybe one day my dad could show me how to use his turntable, but nothing ever came of it. And my dad's records have always been, from my perspective, off limits. It was never said in so many words, I just have always had the feeling that nobody should be touching this prized collection of audio. So...I just did it. I picked out a nice Dolly record from his collection and fumbled my way through to the right stereo settings. Maybe it's just me, but there is something extremely more satisfying about listening to vinyl than to CDs or MP3s. Probably because, to me, it's a novelty and something unexpected.

Then, I talked to one of the coolest people I know via Twitter - disclaimer: I love Twitter. - and we've set up a gameday dress making party. Not to mention, she gave the tip off that the quill was up for Pottermore, and I got into the early registration! Still not real sure as to what all of this is, but if it's Harry Potter Mania, you'd better believe I'm there no matter what.

So, that's the really good day. Nothing extraordinary by some standards, but to me it was really, really, good. In fact, I'm a little overwhelmed. Not to mention, it all has the potential to carry on to tomorrow, when I *hopefullyhopefullyhopefully* get to meet Bruce from Swamp People.

Concerting

A while ago, little Jilly Bean (because she loves I love that nickname) wrote about her favorite concerts. I intended to reciprocate in a timely manner, but I think we all know how that worked out. Regardless, I'm here now, willing to tell anyone who'll listen - look?, read? - about my absolute favorite concerts ever.

The number of concerts I've attended is not very impressive. It seems like there are always those kids who have oodles of time and cash to be in the know of all the good music and concerts. I'm not one of those kids. I'm one of those kids who has found artists she likes and on a good day will remember to check and see if they're playing any convenient and affordable shows in the near future. That being said, the quality of concerts I've been to has been superb.

1. Of course I loved seeing Rocky Votolato at the House of Blues in Dallas with Jillian, Elise, and Brandon. It was my first concert in such an intimate setting. We were about 3 rows from the stage. Ah-mazing. And Jilly Bean (again with the nickname - I just can't help it!) scurried around on the floor to pick up his thrown guitar pick at the end of the concert. It was her birthday, or else I probably would have found some way to steal it on the ride home.

I don't have a readily available picture from the concert, but this one just makes me happy. We were probably thinking of the fun we'd have at Rocky.

2. The one, the only, Ben. Folds! The second time I saw Ben Folds was the greatest. He played in the Centenary College Gold Dome in Shreveport, Louisiana and Eef Barzelay opened. What. the. heck. Regardless, Ben Folds was funny as mess, he played all of my favorites, and the venue was small - a must for me. Add to all of this the experience of travelling with your older brother and two of his wacky friends. Priceless.

3. Austin City Limits. Need I say more? Crazy, hippie-filled, multiple stages, huge names. I've found that I generally prefer small venues, but the festival atmosphere was definitely something to experience at least once. Highlights were seeing Iron and Wine, Conor Oberst, and the Raconteurs.

4. I got to see Bright Eyes this year! So, so, so, good. Once again, a small venue - just my style.

 Basically, concerts are fun. These are listed in no particular order, because every single one has a different discerning factor that makes it my favorite. Here's to more good shows!

This is The First Day of My Life

Last night, Bright Eyes, the Tabernacle, ohmygosh. This concert was beyond amazing. He put out a new CD at the beginning of the year, so I was a little nervous that the majority of the setlist would come from that. Pleasant. Pleasant. Surprise. He played tons of old stuff, including some of my very favorite songs and some that I'm Groovesharking at my earliest convenience because they sounded great and I was a little ashamed of myself for not having heard this goodness before. My highlights of the night: Bowl of Oranges, I'm Wide Awake It's Morning, Gold Mine Gutted, Take it Easy, <entire setlist>. I can't pick highlights. The whole night was my highlight. Plus, I got to hang out with a pretty awesome Big, who's birthday happens to be today, so we went b-day shopping a day early at the merch table. Scores all around.

"We went to Disneyworld and learned a new motto. Celebrate the dream inside. That's what we're encouraging you to do tonight. Celebrate it."

"This next song....is in 3D. Please put on the glasses that were handed to you at the door."
3 minutes pass.
"Please put on the 3D glasses"
3 minutes pass.
"There must have been some kind of mistake. Just squint really hard at the stage for this next song."

"You might be wondering who this handsome devil is. Right here, in the flesh."

Dear Conor, if I could be half as devil-may-care as you, I would feel unstoppable. Keep up the good work.




P.S. I'm pleased that some of my pictures from the concert turned out ok, but I'm sick and tired of shooting on the Auto setting, especially when I know my camera can do better than most of the shots I got last night. Any good tips/tricks/tutorials for sashaying into the realm of priority or manual settings?