The Rosebuds Concert Reivew - Lawrence University, Appleton WI

The city of Appleton and Lawrence University got a rare treat with the Rosebuds making a stop last night on their tour.  While the crowd was small (roughly 50 folks), it was appreciative for some really good music, and while the band had to fight through some sound issues for a portion of the show, the net result was a very enjoyable set. 

Front man Ivan Howard was a real force on stage, and knocked out some haunting guitar and strong vocals.  Kelly Crisp, while her microphone was too low for much of the set, added haunting vocals of her own as well as keyboards.  Her playing on "Woods" in particular was really fun.  Daniel Hart, I believe, was on violin and vocals, and while the sound of his instrument never got quite where it needed to be, his playing and singing were both outstanding and added much to the overall mix.  Finally the rhythm section (I didn't catch names and apologize) applied a great foundation.  The drummer, in particular, is a real talent. 

Some highlights from the evening:

• "Life Like" came out great live, and was really fun to hear.  It would have been more fun to hear with a packed venue that knew the song and could sing along. 
• Ditto with "Cape Fear."  Great song, executed very well. 
• "Second Bird of Paradise," off of the new album, was also excellent.  Here Hart's violin carried the song. 
• The band finished with its most recognized and successful song, "Woods."  It was an awesome way to finish an awesome evening. 

I know the Rosebuds have been opening for Bon Iver this tour, and a stop at a small college, of a small town, to a small crowd had to be disappointing.  What is it with Appleton and failing to support good music?  It was a free concert, people!  But for some of us in the audience, we appreciate them making that stop very, very much.  Personally, I would have expected to go to First Avenue and would have gladly shelled out big dollars to do so in order to see them, so last night was a real treat. 

I can't wait to see where this band goes as their talent and sound will definitely require bigger venues and bigger crowds in the future.   

Do yourself a favor and buy their music, and see them live.  Great band.

A Dog Named Blitz Fixed

It has been brought to my attention this morning that my latest ADNB post seemed to be missing something, and in my cut/paste job, I did indeed miss an entire paragraph.  My apologies. 

I need to do a better job of proofing before hitting "publish..."

Vikings Threat to Move a Bluff; Dayton Folds

The StarTribune today reports that Governor Dayton is concerned that if a deal doesn't get done on a new Vikings stadium, that the team will move.  To quote Dayton from the piece: 

"If we don't act in some way ... it's unrealistic in my opinion to think that we are not going to face competition for the team,"

Hogwash.

Where is the team going to go?  LA?  Despite the fancy rendering of a new stadium shown above, here's a newsflash: California is broke.  Flat.  Ass.  Broke.  And we're not talking down on their luck, we're talking near bankrupt. 

While other states and cities are in better shape financially, nobody and I mean nobody is sitting around on a pile of dollars to throw at a NFL team to entice them into their market.  The new economy has effectively killed all of that off.  Those days are over, never to return again for a long, long time.  State and local pols need to focus, scrimp, and hustle just to keep basic services available to their constituents. 

A new billion dollar stadium complex for a football team in this economic environment?  That has about the same chance as the Vikings have of winning the Super Bowl.

Friday Morning Harmony

Here are Peter Wolf and Shelby Lynne, just hanging out and singing.

I think I would give just about anything to be able to make that kind of beautiful noise.

Enjoy

What the Occupy Wall Street Group Wants

People have been confused as to what it is, exactly, that the Occupy Wall St. movement really wants.  This clears it up:



The whole movement can be summed up by bastardizing the famous statement by President Kennedy:

Ask not what you can do for your country
Ask what your country can do for you

Weird Occupy Atlanta Group

Rational folks have been having a tough time understanding just what the hell these people want.  This video does not make it clear.



These are grown adults behaving like this.  If they were in charge, our unemployment rate would be 100%.

But we'd likely have access to some really righteous drugs...

A Dog Named Blitz - Chapter Six, "Two Years Old: Part 2"

For background on this serial, please click here. You can also start at the previous section

While goose hunting proved to be a new adventure, it was nothing compared to hunting the wily ruffed grouse of northern Minnesota.  The grouse is a mysterious bird, often found in quantity by deer hunters tying to be stealthy in the woods, but ultimately being exposed via an explosion of feathers seemingly coming from immediately underfoot.  However, when hunted directly, they can be non- existent, or merely ghosts in the woods. 

Personally, I had only hunted groused a couple of times.  Both times were early in the fall when the wooded cover was still extremely thick, and both times were done without any kind of canine support.  My partners and I simply spread ourselves out into the wooded cover, fighting through the brush, pushing forward as best we could, but snagging ourselves on the brambles more than making any kind of progress.  Occasionally one of us would hear the unmistakable whirl of flushing wings ahead, which was sometimes followed by the sound of a single report and an utterance of some lively bit of profanity. 

In these two occasions I had a shot at a grouse only once.  While I say I had a shout, I'm better off saying I discharged my gun in the general direction of a fleeing grouse one time.  Instead of hitting the grouse I instead centered the pattern of my shotgun directly into the sturdy trunk of a large oak tree that my departing quarry happened to put between myself and him on his path of departure. 

It is a frustrating and humbling pursuit.  So that Thanksgiving when my nephew claimed that grouse were crawling all over his dad's hunting property, I was reluctant to go out.  Did I really want to go out there with Blitz, both of us grouse virgins (me to shooting, and her to hunting them), for a day of utter frustration, or do I want to sit inside the warm house and wreak massive amounts of damage to my mother-in-law's thanksgiving leftovers?  The answer seemed pretty clear to me, but the whining coming from the dog crate indicated that someone needed to get out and get some fresh air.  Judging as well by the tightness of my belt caused by the November feast, I need the exercise myself.  I quickly changed, loaded up Blitz, and headed for my brother-in-law's land outside of town. 

Armed with a description of some promising areas from my nephew, Blitz and I waded into the quiet woods seeking the elusive grey bird.  We pushed along some likely cover with Blitz working the woods well.  Back and froth she dodged, not necessarily haunting per se, but clearly enjoying her freedom from the imposed confinement of the crate inside my mother-in-laws's house. 

Given that she had never encountered the bird before , I was hoping that upon a meeting, shed know what to do.  To this point we had done enough pheasant hunting and live bird training that it should not have been too far outside of her comfort zone, or at least that was my working hypothesis.  We moved along some semi thick cover, and Blitz soon picked up the scent of something.  Her body signals made it clear that she was on something - head down, nose working overtime, gait akin to Barry Sanders in traffic, and tail flailing wildly. 

She focused her efforts on a massive blowdown, moving to and fro, trying to get into the jumble of branches and sticks.  I prepared myself for the expected explosion of wings when the chipmunk inhabiting the pile chirped his annoyance at our presence.  That of course set the dog off, which in turn got the rodent more agitated and vocal, and soon our nice grouse hunt had degenerated into yet another chipmunk vs. dog stalemate.  I was ultimately able to get Blitz pulled away and focused on moving forward, and soon enough she started acting birdy again.  Again, this time, it turned out to be  another agitated chipmunk - this one sounding off from inside a hollowed log.  This type of scene would be repeated about four more times over the next hour, and I started to think my poor confused nephew didn't know the difference between a grouse and a chipmunk. 

Eventually Blitz started acting birdy again, and I was convinced this would be yet another false alarm and we soon would be hearing from an angry rodent.  Then Blitz did something she never did with the chipmunks: she locked up statue-still and pointed.  Immediately I knew this was different based this behavior as Blitz had never pointed before when there was not a bird somewhere out in front of her nose.  I was finally optimistic, but then she did something else she hadn't done before while hunting: she started growling.  Bird hunters are unfortunate souls, and as a group we immediately assume the worst of any situation, because often enough that is exactly what happens to us.  For me, the worst scenario in the situation with a growling dog was that we had stumbled across Mr. Skunk, and Blitz and I would ultimately be sleeping in my mother-in-law's garage.  No football.  No leftovers.  Just lots and lots of tomato juice baths and smelly companionship. 

"Blitz!"I yelled, "Here! HERE!"  Immediately the dog lunged forward, completely ignoring my commands, and rousted the grouse that was sitting invisibly about three feet in front of her.  I couldn't beleive it she'd done it.  Her and my first grouse!  Now all I had to do is make the shot.  "Don't choke, don't choke, don't choke," repeatedly went through my head, and I leveled my shotgun to get a lead on the departing bird.  Satisfied with my lead I lightly squeezed the trigger and send a load of Federal number six shot directly into the the body of an oak tree that the grouse had managed to put between him and me.  I didnt know grouse migrated but am convinced now as this had to be the same brid that had previously pulled the same trick on me a few years and a hundred miles ago.

I followed the route of the departing bird and felt I might have had a good lead where he came to rest.  I corralled Blitz back to the task at hand and we headed off to the last place where I had seen the bird.  As we moved in the grouse didn't wait for us to get close and nervously flushed while we were still out of range.  Unfortunately for the grouse he flew forward to the edge of the property and a clear cut border area. That meant he no had nowhere to go.  Blitz and I approached the area and I was certain that this time our luck would hold.  We knew the general area of the bird, and he was out of cover.  A flush meant open shooting and no oak trees to serve as wooded armor.  Finally, the odds stacked in our favor.

We got right up to the cover with Blitz bridy as all get out but found ourselves unable to raise the bird.  This proved to be a huge frustration as the cover was thin, and there was no way we could have missed him.  That's when I looked out into the open field and found one lone pine tree about ten feet away.  Blitz's nose had already pointed her in that direction, and we moved toward the tree in complete unison without the need for any commands.  

Nearing the base of the tree Blitz went back onto point and I tucked in behind her left hip.  "Get him, girl!" I commanded and immediately the grouse was in the air, and this time with nothing surrounding him but grey sky.  He was attempting to double back on us and was headed for the cover from which wed just come.  I shouldered my gun while pivoting 180 degrees, getting my lead, and squeezing.  The grouse, clearly hit, fell into a thick pile of cover with Blitz closely behind.  I commanded her to fetch with a thrill in my voice hopeful that this would be our first grouse.  After a couple of seconds Blitz reappeared from the cover carrying our first grouse in her mouth.  

At that moment I felt incredibly proud.  Neither of us really knew what we were doing.  We had an idea, sure , but this was a first.  And working together, we were successful.  It was a supremely satisfying experience.  I sat down with Blitz there in the clearing, admiring the bird in my hands, knowing how much wed achieved and how much my mother-in-law would enjoy this toothsome centerpiece to some future dinner.  

For that moment all we did was sit there and smile at our first ever grouse.  I probably would have sat there a lot longer had I known that our first grouse was also going to be our last.

Weekend With My Brother at Notre Dame

Ever had a weekend that you wanted to put in a bottle and take out at some future time?  Chalk my last weekend up as one of those.   

After attending The Trailer Park Boys show in Milwaukee on Friday night (you can read my review of the show here), I awoke early Saturday morning to pick up my brother from O'hare and spend the rest of the day at Notre Dame attending their game against Air Force.  We connected with relative ease and made the quick jaunt to South Bend without issue, talking and catching up the whole way.  We found a great parking spot off campus in the nearby neighborhood and headed over to the school to kill time until the game.   

The day was nearly 80 degrees, sunny, and completely cloudless.  For a college football fan, it is the day that exists in your wildest dreams.  It could not get any better.  We walked around to the usual sites, visiting Touchdown Jesus 

and taking in some of the pre-game at the Golden Dome. 

We then did stuff like walk around the lake, 

visited the refurbished Joyce Center, 

and got onto the practice field.   

Other things we did included the obligatory K of C $7 for a steak sandwich and a drink, visited the Grotto and said a quick prayer, poked our head in on the ND / UCONN soccer game, caught College Gameday at the Student Center, and waded through the gift shop at the Joyce Center.  In fact, I'm not sure we left a stone unturned - it was the ultimate college football experience.   

That got us to game time where we were treated to a fly-over by a B2 Stealth Bomber (for video of the Stealth Bomber fly-over see my next post).  We were then treated to a very strong game by the Irish, which finished with a couple of late TDs against the Irish second team, the singing of Notre Dame Our Mother, and then the respectful and reverential playing of the third verse of the Air Force song by the Air Force band, which was circled by the Air Force team who was in turn circled by the Irish players.  As teams finally left the loudest cheer at the tunnel was saved for the Air Force, who exited to a standing ovation and cheers of "USA!"  It was awesome to see.   

After the game we headed into South Bend to catch some dinner before the ride back to the hotel near O'hare.  On our way there, on a wrong turn, we encountered about a dozen of the "Occupy Wall Street" crowd that were standing on a corner in downtown South Bend.  My window and moon roof were open, and I was loudly vocalizing my distaste for those people and their cause.  Something must have popped with my brother, as while I was turning around our rig he was opened the door and let loose with an invective that completely surmised what we both felt.  Upon shutting the door, he turned to me and stated "That felt GOOD!"  Indeed it did.   

We ended up having dinner at the LaSalle Grill where we enjoyed a steak and an incredible bottle of Ladera cab.  For an Irish post-game celebration, there's no way it gets any better.   

We ate our fill, headed west, got checked in, and I was out five minutes into Sports Center.  I can't convey how nice it was.  But the best part wasn't the weather, the game, the incredible dinner, or any of that.  The best part, by a magnitude of a thousand, was being able to spend the day with my brother.  We talked all day - about everything and nothing, about trivial matters and the most important things in the world.  The game, dinner, campus and all of the other stuff was just icing on the luscious cake that was being able to hang out with my brother.  We don't get to do it much anymore, but for me, there's not much better.   

Thanks for an incredible day, K.  The only way it could have been better is if I would have caught that extra point.  Literally.   

I love you, bud.