She took the midnight train goin' everywhere

On the advice of a close friend, an advisor apparently of governmental judgement, I went out last night to see a “Funk Soul band starting at 11 for free!” Of course, I wound up paying $6 to see the last of 4 bands on a plucking and strumming night at The Picador. It was empty and loud but the band were excellent and all of good spirits from Springfield, MO. This provided an instant connection as I was in Springfield a few short months ago. “Where did you play there?,”they asked. “It was purple inside” was our reply “and the lights kept going out.” Springfield, though, was the site of my very memorable 26 hour travel day (see Jan 23 post) that included a few canceled and missed flights, and the talk with the wonderful women of the O’hare Hilton guest services department. I also saw the gripping We Are Marshall in MO, which is the story of….with a crooked lipped straight talking Matt McConaughey playing under (ooohh) the pursed lipped ne’er do wrong Bill Macy.

After a quick detour to a house down the street in our now usual quartet of revelers, we wound up getting our first official noise complaint as we hooted and hollered while 30 rock downloaded at 420k/s. This is much faster than normal, and a result of us being on a college campus with a proper connection.

The next day resulted in trying to get an espresso at a local place and being "forced" to listen to an hour of folk music by Peter Mulvey who was taping an hour for a simple Iowa Public Radio show involving talking and singing. Very cool.