Cool Summer Nights
Hot Soulful Tunes
be sure to come by & enjoy
every Friday @ the Independent
no cover
60's Classic Soul - R&B - Rocksteady - Funk
75 union square - Somerville
Copenhagen Rides On
4 years ago
Monday, June 30, 2008
...I'll get to the beer later...
back again...
a nice little whirlwind quick trip down to the Cape this weekend.
Skye & crew departed on Friday morning, leaving me home alone
with a couple anxious cats, wondering where their 'ma was. Work
prevented my from accompanying them & taking immediate part
in the wonderful debauchery at the Main Stay Inn. However, I played
out a great set @the Independent with some cool blue-r&b, beachy
soul, funk & early reggae. There was some sultry swaying & grooving
going down on what beame a dance floor.
Monday morning gave me the wonderful gift of exhaustion as I rolled out
to work. I made the Provincetown ferry in time, thank goodness, after a
spider web of connecting an inbound Green Line to outbound Red Line to
outbound Silver Line. As I waited in line, a lesbian couple embracing to stay
warm (it was 60 degrees the end of June) started making out & groping each
other until a few gay men behind them announced "ew!" -prompting a fair
amount of immediate chuckles. Being the seemingly only 'Breeder' in line,
I just chilled out, eagerly awaiting the boat trip. Onboard, there was a rush &
clusterfuck of gay men seeking luggage spots and seats, which in itself was a
psychedelic experience. However, what I don't get, is why they all had to compete
with copious cologne warfare (apparently AXE body spray is a not just the choice
of horny teenagers & Polish Euro-skanks!). Blinded by this cloud & whirl, I made
my way straight to the bar on board, a typical Bud-hot dogs-nacho snackbar. As I
awaited my turn, I noticed that the bar was better stocked than it seemed, as
everyone in front of me was ordering Cosmos & fruity mix-drinks. By then, I thought
"Jeez, what am in ? A gay minstrel show?" The stereotypes could not have been
more prophetically self-fulfilled. As a stark contrast, I ordered a couple Coors &
proceeded to the rear deck (yeh, haha...not the poop-deck, Mike) away from the
gaggle of gays (or what I found out later is technically called a "haaayyyy-ze").
The harbor was fogged in & you could barely make out the city skyline. Yet, as the
boat began to depart, the sound of bagpipes filled the air, making a truly Boston-
Southie moment, or at least a Dropkick Murphys video (there was apparently a
wedding nearby on another boat that had pipers a-playin').
The trip itself was about an hour & a half (a great deal, considering you don't have to
drive, park, deal with Cape traffic, and that you can walk around, read & drink), but
was slow-moving at times due to the intense fog that creating ghostly images now & then.
With a constant foghorn blaring, we moved through these cloudy banks with me wondering
exactly where we were. Occasional lobster boats loomed nearby, obscured in shrouds of
fog, but for the most part we moved alone towards P-Town. Once I saw a few lobster trap
buoys, I knew we were getting closer. The harbor itself looked haunted & deserted as it
slowly came into view. However, once we pulled alongside the pier, you could see the flags
& signs that announce the town's colorful 'fabulousness'.
Skye & crew (Christina, Dawn & Mike) met me at the pier, obviously already a bit happy from
their time at the Good Times bar. I grabbed a linguica roll from a Portuguese snack shop, staffed
by Eastern Europeans, one of whom Skye can attest to, seemed like was trying to enchant me.
After that fog, one can only guess mermaids were about... I finally felt like the weekend was here
once we all rolled into the Old Colony Tap, our favorite local watering hole in Provincetown. With
it's old, dark & dusty nautically festooned interior, ancient grafitti-carved tables & a floor that
seems to be crooked in every direction, we settled in for an evening of Naragansetts & good humor.
I was quite happy to stay longer, but we agreed that since we had to return to Wellfleet anyway to the motel, we might as well go to the Beachcomber (pub/club on the beach) to see the garage-punk show that was supposedly the reason why we all came down. Regardless, Jay Allen, the Coffin Lids, Tampoffs & Dogmatics all were fantastic (we missed the opening Swedish act) all a testament to the good vibe of being down on the beach drinking & having a good time. There were bonfires down the beach that beckoned us through the foggy haze, but we knew that if we went, it would be an all-nighter that would impair the early drive home...alas...
Sunday, we woke, in spite of my best efforts, and loaded into the car that took us back home to Boston. After a brief nap, we all re-convened in our backyard, just hanging out, snacking & enjoying a few pints with friends & neighbors. And then came the call of Roslindale....we then took the adventure further afield, enjoying a backyard barbecue with friends and later called it a night.
a nice little whirlwind quick trip down to the Cape this weekend.
Skye & crew departed on Friday morning, leaving me home alone
with a couple anxious cats, wondering where their 'ma was. Work
prevented my from accompanying them & taking immediate part
in the wonderful debauchery at the Main Stay Inn. However, I played
out a great set @the Independent with some cool blue-r&b, beachy
soul, funk & early reggae. There was some sultry swaying & grooving
going down on what beame a dance floor.
Monday morning gave me the wonderful gift of exhaustion as I rolled out
to work. I made the Provincetown ferry in time, thank goodness, after a
spider web of connecting an inbound Green Line to outbound Red Line to
outbound Silver Line. As I waited in line, a lesbian couple embracing to stay
warm (it was 60 degrees the end of June) started making out & groping each
other until a few gay men behind them announced "ew!" -prompting a fair
amount of immediate chuckles. Being the seemingly only 'Breeder' in line,
I just chilled out, eagerly awaiting the boat trip. Onboard, there was a rush &
clusterfuck of gay men seeking luggage spots and seats, which in itself was a
psychedelic experience. However, what I don't get, is why they all had to compete
with copious cologne warfare (apparently AXE body spray is a not just the choice
of horny teenagers & Polish Euro-skanks!). Blinded by this cloud & whirl, I made
my way straight to the bar on board, a typical Bud-hot dogs-nacho snackbar. As I
awaited my turn, I noticed that the bar was better stocked than it seemed, as
everyone in front of me was ordering Cosmos & fruity mix-drinks. By then, I thought
"Jeez, what am in ? A gay minstrel show?" The stereotypes could not have been
more prophetically self-fulfilled. As a stark contrast, I ordered a couple Coors &
proceeded to the rear deck (yeh, haha...not the poop-deck, Mike) away from the
gaggle of gays (or what I found out later is technically called a "haaayyyy-ze").
The harbor was fogged in & you could barely make out the city skyline. Yet, as the
boat began to depart, the sound of bagpipes filled the air, making a truly Boston-
Southie moment, or at least a Dropkick Murphys video (there was apparently a
wedding nearby on another boat that had pipers a-playin').
The trip itself was about an hour & a half (a great deal, considering you don't have to
drive, park, deal with Cape traffic, and that you can walk around, read & drink), but
was slow-moving at times due to the intense fog that creating ghostly images now & then.
With a constant foghorn blaring, we moved through these cloudy banks with me wondering
exactly where we were. Occasional lobster boats loomed nearby, obscured in shrouds of
fog, but for the most part we moved alone towards P-Town. Once I saw a few lobster trap
buoys, I knew we were getting closer. The harbor itself looked haunted & deserted as it
slowly came into view. However, once we pulled alongside the pier, you could see the flags
& signs that announce the town's colorful 'fabulousness'.
Skye & crew (Christina, Dawn & Mike) met me at the pier, obviously already a bit happy from
their time at the Good Times bar. I grabbed a linguica roll from a Portuguese snack shop, staffed
by Eastern Europeans, one of whom Skye can attest to, seemed like was trying to enchant me.
After that fog, one can only guess mermaids were about... I finally felt like the weekend was here
once we all rolled into the Old Colony Tap, our favorite local watering hole in Provincetown. With
it's old, dark & dusty nautically festooned interior, ancient grafitti-carved tables & a floor that
seems to be crooked in every direction, we settled in for an evening of Naragansetts & good humor.
I was quite happy to stay longer, but we agreed that since we had to return to Wellfleet anyway to the motel, we might as well go to the Beachcomber (pub/club on the beach) to see the garage-punk show that was supposedly the reason why we all came down. Regardless, Jay Allen, the Coffin Lids, Tampoffs & Dogmatics all were fantastic (we missed the opening Swedish act) all a testament to the good vibe of being down on the beach drinking & having a good time. There were bonfires down the beach that beckoned us through the foggy haze, but we knew that if we went, it would be an all-nighter that would impair the early drive home...alas...
Sunday, we woke, in spite of my best efforts, and loaded into the car that took us back home to Boston. After a brief nap, we all re-convened in our backyard, just hanging out, snacking & enjoying a few pints with friends & neighbors. And then came the call of Roslindale....we then took the adventure further afield, enjoying a backyard barbecue with friends and later called it a night.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
soul music, summer, friends old & new....
well, this is my first blog...I don't read them, so why on earth would I write one? I blame a certain friend who moved back 'home' down South to NC. You see, McQueen has been a pal of mine up here in Boston for about 13 years, and the amount of grief & beer that we put each other through is olympic. However, he has finally made good on his threat (13 years coming) to head back to the land of his forefathers (no not Scotland & Germany). From Moxie to Dixie.....
his blog that he set up to keep in touch is here: http://bullittstodixie.blogpost.com
In terms of his new adventures, check out his blog.
What am I going to talk about? Well, certainly not fucking politics, the "ignorant fool's philosophy." A little of this & that...hell, who knows how long I'll even maintain this.
Well, it's summer in Boston, and if you've lived here beyond the student/rat population, you'll know just how wonderful it is. Granted late summer/early fall is my favorite, and hell, I even like the snow in winter. Summer in Boston shows another side of the city that folks complain does not exist. People having fun outside, pub-crawls not limited to a square due to blizzard conditions, trips outside one's neighborhood to the Cape, Allston, Roslindale & everwhere else. It's the time of year when, yes, I'd like a Guinness, but rather have a pilsener, kolsch or hefeweisse. It's the time when I can convince myself to do yard-work. The time of year to explore our lovely city & all that it has to offer that we shun most of year, huddlng in our hobbit-holes. It's when your 'local' extends to include all those places that you have not been in awhile.
Thus far, the summer has offered up excellent shows (Amanda Palmer with the Pops is the highlight so far), some seen, some missed due to conflicting schedules. Derrick Morgan, the Templars as well as the great local garage/punk scene that never wavers.
New pubs, new restuarants, new liqour licenses issued...!!!
(while I do miss O'Malleys, Deep Ellum is a great addition)
The amazing Craft Beer Fest was last weekend with it's heavenly offers of 350+ brews
(even the Michelob Doppelbock was good...I'll get back later with my favorites-we methodically rated our beers on charts). Last weekend also saw another great installment of Haik's "Misanthrope Mixer", which has been too long since the last.
anyhow, I grow bored, so until next time...
his blog that he set up to keep in touch is here: http://bullittstodixie.blogpost.com
In terms of his new adventures, check out his blog.
What am I going to talk about? Well, certainly not fucking politics, the "ignorant fool's philosophy." A little of this & that...hell, who knows how long I'll even maintain this.
Well, it's summer in Boston, and if you've lived here beyond the student/rat population, you'll know just how wonderful it is. Granted late summer/early fall is my favorite, and hell, I even like the snow in winter. Summer in Boston shows another side of the city that folks complain does not exist. People having fun outside, pub-crawls not limited to a square due to blizzard conditions, trips outside one's neighborhood to the Cape, Allston, Roslindale & everwhere else. It's the time of year when, yes, I'd like a Guinness, but rather have a pilsener, kolsch or hefeweisse. It's the time when I can convince myself to do yard-work. The time of year to explore our lovely city & all that it has to offer that we shun most of year, huddlng in our hobbit-holes. It's when your 'local' extends to include all those places that you have not been in awhile.
Thus far, the summer has offered up excellent shows (Amanda Palmer with the Pops is the highlight so far), some seen, some missed due to conflicting schedules. Derrick Morgan, the Templars as well as the great local garage/punk scene that never wavers.
New pubs, new restuarants, new liqour licenses issued...!!!
(while I do miss O'Malleys, Deep Ellum is a great addition)
The amazing Craft Beer Fest was last weekend with it's heavenly offers of 350+ brews
(even the Michelob Doppelbock was good...I'll get back later with my favorites-we methodically rated our beers on charts). Last weekend also saw another great installment of Haik's "Misanthrope Mixer", which has been too long since the last.
anyhow, I grow bored, so until next time...
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