Friday, April 28, 2006

I'm going to be a Nickel Creek groupie and go on tour since I won't have a home much longer

Ruminations on a Thursday-night concert and the closing of the Rhea House

If you've ever wanted to attend a concert, remain attentive throughout and yet still retain your sense of hearing, I highly recommend Nickel Creek.

I normally wouldn't shell out $30 for a concert ticket, but I'm still on my "you don't have enough fun" kick, so Kati and I made our way down to Memorial Auditorium and met up with Davio and his posse. The show was incredibly good. I was probably most impressed by how much they did with little. An upright bass, mandolin, guitar and fiddle carried most of the night, with a banjo thrown in on a couple of numbers. Part of me longed for something a bit "bigger," but I think it was the same feeling I get when I want 2% milk after drinking skim...skim is just as good and doesn't leave you feeling like you drank part of the cow in the process.

Songs from Why Should the Fire Die? obviously were the most played, but This Side and the self-titled record also got good exposure. Chris Thile is an amazing musician, but I was struck by the thought that he and John Mayer must be close friends. Both are tall, write songs on stringed instruments that don't fit the typical mold and both look like they're in excruciating pain when they play their respective instruments. Thile was more appealing to watch than Mayer in my opinion...his pained look was more one of a surprised expression than Mayer's "get-out-of-the-way-I'm gonna-hurl" look. Sarah, the fiddle girl, looked to me like Velma from Scooby Doo, while her brother Sean, the guitarist, struck me as a pint-sized Nick Lachey. Speaking of Lachey-like poor artistry, the band did a very funny tongue-in-cheek rendition of Brittany Spears' "Toxic" that was 100 times better than the original...no, that still gives Spears some measure of credit. Let's just say it was actually good. Very creative and sassy all at the same time.

The opener, the Ditty Bops, were a strange little band mainly consisting of two girls. The best way I know to describe their music is to think of Lee Bingham Nash's voice on anti-depressants, crossed with lots of minor chords in bluegrass style music, while on a trip through the tunnel in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Check out this link and the bikini bicycle calendar and it might help you get the picture a little better. Talented nonetheless.

In other news, I may have to move soon amidst my hectic month of May. Twice in the last week I've had people walking through my apartment making plans for its future inhabitants, the BC advancement office, and in the process all parties realized that I actually call the place "home." At best, I'll be able to stay in my apartment for a while, with a cacophany of hammering, drilling and such going on over head in the main part of the house. A little further down the line of options has me staying in my apartment minus the living room with work crews blowing out part of the living room wall. I'm imagining myself walking to the bathroom with my towel and stepping around drywall and loose nails. "Hey, since you guys are already here cutting out part of my kitchen wall, why don't I cook you breakfast?"

A third option has me moving into temporary housing, which I really don't think highly of. After moving about ten times in the last four years, I'd rather just make one trip to Long, but I can't do that until Myra can move into North. It's a really strange feeling not knowing where you'll be living a month or even two weeks from now, and it's hard not to take offense at the "rearrangeable furniture" feeling I'm getting from those making decisions. I just know that I've been running on fumes for the last six weeks but kept going because I knew that I'd have a summer to regroup, decompress and get ready for the next year. Now where would I rest if I had the opportunity? I guess it's a small fraction of how Jesus must have felt in his time on Earth.