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Maps and Atlases was an odd little band with a dedicated fan base that showed for their in-store. The band set up on the floor instead of the stage and they had no amplification at all. I was standing close, and when the singer talked between songs, I could not make out what he was saying. The bass player had a chord that ran from the bass to a little box the size of your fist that converted the sound to something metallic. If you think about Jethro Tull, but with this bass thingy instead of a flute, that's what they sounded like. No beer at this show. No explanation, just a bunch of confused regulars.
A critics darling, but commercially unviable, Peter Case played a solo set of blues-based rock/folk. Looking like a semi-homeless mess, his energetic style revealed a man who has to make music, not for money, but because it's in him and he's got to let it out.

An anonymous comment from last week's blog wondered about my lack of food reviews this year. I have been eating out less this summer, and I have not been moved to write about my meals out. It's not them, it's me. Carrie and I did make it to Trudy's one Friday for our traditional beginning of summer celebration. Of course we did not get there 'til sometime in mid-July. That's just how this summer has been.

For years Carrie and I have talked about going to Jaime's Spanish Village down on Red River. We arranged to go on July 30th, which was their last day in business. Traditional Tex-Mex is less in favor these days, but it was a rent increase that shut them down. Patrons were pulling stuff off the wall to take home (with permission, I think). Kinda sad, but this section of downtown is in the midst of major change, now that the Waller Creek tunnel (boondoggle) is on the way.

Too bad about Bristol Palin and Levi. I guess when the invite for the dream double wedding with Chelsea Clinton didn't come through, there was no reason to stay together.

Peace,

JS4