Posts Tagged ‘St. Paul’
Classics Live
Oh, what a night! Cyndie and I met our friends, Mike and Barb, in St. Paul last night for dinner at Kinkaid’s and a fabulous performance by Classic Albums Live (CAL) doing the Rolling Stones’ “Sticky Fingers” at the Ordway Center for Performing Arts. I can’t say enough about CAL’s formula of presenting a pristine rendition of classic rock albums live on stage – “note for note, cut for cut.” It is truly exhilarating to experience.
It was a beautiful October night in the Capital city, although getting there was made more complicated by road construction and increased traffic due to simultaneous MN Gopher football Homecoming and MN Wild NHL hockey games happening.
Rice Park downtown was full of life.
Most of the people around us were headed to the hockey game, but at the Ordway, we found a crowd of like-minded album fans all fired up to relive our past by listening to Sticky Fingers together live. It’s like we were teenagers in our bedrooms again, listening to a record until we had every note, every pause, imprinted in our minds for decades to come.
It occurred to me that the CAL musicians are pulling off something that the original artists probably rarely, if ever, have done. When recording albums, the artists were in studios and laying down multiple tracks with a variety of effects to create their masterpieces. After that, the songs get mastered by the Producer to fine-tune output levels and dynamics. The band and the Producer will settle on a track order that won’t necessarily have anything to do with how hits are performed live by the group for the rest of their careers.
Classic Albums Live musicians are so committed to authentically recreating the albums live on stage that their performances more closely resemble a classical music ensemble recital than a rock concert. The musicians dress in black to minimize attention to themselves, and they don’t try to mimic the original artists’ looks or performance styles.
They excel at recreating every note and sound (mistakes included, if there were any on the album), which can get complicated sometimes on multitrack recordings. The CAL performers become adept at quickly grabbing a shaker or cowbell to come in at just the right moment while still playing their other instruments.
One of the more difficult tricks they pull off, which the original artists likely never faced, is rapidly changing instruments in the limited time available during the pause between songs on an album.
We have become such fans of this concept (we previously saw CAL perform The Beatles’ Abbey Road) that we stopped at the Box Office before last night’s show to purchase tickets for the next time CAL will be at the Ordway. They are doing The Eagles – Greatest Hits in March of 2026.
As if Canada needed one more thing to be proud of, they have given the world of album lovers the greatest gift in Classic Albums Live. I tip my tuque to the founder, Craig Martin, for over 20 years of this superb concept.
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Waconia to Stillwater
Day 5 of riding the 50th Tour of Minnesota
After just one day of sleeping in and not packing first thing in the morning on our rest day, getting up and going in the usual routine of this ride can be a bit of a struggle for me.
“Where did I put my water bottle?”
I have no idea what this day will bring but I have been looking forward to it since first seeing the announcement for this year’s itinerary.
We are headed straight through the population center of the state! Whaaat!?
There is so much to see and do within our reach but little time to dawdle. We’re riding over 60 miles. We will roll through the metropolis with mere glances at much of the scenery on our quest to keep moving toward our destination.
I wonder what it will be like if we are riding through thunderstorms.
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Holiday Outing
Christmas 2023 is now a memory. Let’s get on with celebrating the new year and start preparing for Valentine’s Day. But before we go, how about one more glance at our festive holiday outing at CHS Field in St. Paul?
We went to the GLOW Holiday Festival on Christmas eve eve with Barry and Carlos and our friends, Paul and Beth.
The rain held off long enough for us to walk among the lights, features, and several thousand other people without getting wet.
The event added much-needed holiday spirit in the absence of snow this year. There were so many photo-worthy spectacles and selfie-hungry couples and families, that much of the time was spent dodging becoming an incidental photo bomber or waiting for a turn to get photo-bombed.
We unexpectedly ran into our friends, the Williams family among the throngs of strangers while strolling the concourse. That increased the festive energy of our evening in a most wonderful way.
There was barely a line when we came upon Santa Claus, so posing with him became a must-do.
Confusion broke out when two overly excited youngsters spotted him and moved in as if pulled by an invisible force. Our group quickly encouraged the kids to go ahead of us while the parents, unaware, were trying to remind the kids about the good manners of waiting their turn.
As Cyndie and I stepped up for our chance to tell Santa what we wanted for Christmas, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “They aren’t paying you enough for this.” It triggered the most wonderful knowing laugh from him that I felt as if my work was done for the night.
24 hours later, Cyndie and I were gathered with our kids, the Friswold family, and their relations at a party room of Friendship Village for the annual Friswold/Brolin Christmas Eve dinner. Christmas morning brought the Friswolds all together in Cyndie’s mom’s suite for breakfast and gift opening. In the evening, we met again, this time at Ben’s house for games and dinner.
I’m looking forward to a day after the holiday that should bring a return to our usual routine and an end to the over-saturation of Christmas music for a while. Maybe things will get so normal that we even receive some snow that covers the ground for more than a few days.
A guy can dream.
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City School
We are enrolled in a dog obedience training series with Asher in St. Paul, MN. The guy gets a dose of the big city every Thursday and he seems more than capable of coping with sidewalks and city streets.
Asher showed no hesitation about adjusting to the city latrines that looked nothing like the trees and bushes he has become accustomed to at home. We are so proud of him.
The hour-long class has probably six other dogs and owners for Asher to ignore while we are trying to listen to the instructor and then practice the routines. It’s a misnomer to call it a dog obedience class because it is really a “hooman” obedience class teaching the time-tested tricks for establishing one-word commands.
You can lure a dog into the desired behavior with food but if you state the command while luring, that is a bribe. They don’t learn from a bribe.
Timing is everything. Commands are to be stated only once. If you repeat it, they tune it out. Successful responses to commands are met by a friendly “Yes!” and then a reward treat is given. For Cyndie and me, the chaos in the training room and the multiple repetitions of exercises lead to forgetting the command or repeating the command, taking too long to serve the treat, and too frequently forgetting the “Yes!”
Asher seems to be learning in spite of our inconsistencies.
The hour is rather exhausting for all of us.
The car ride home is pretty quiet.
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Last Week
First off, I gotta say the Holman’s Table restaurant at St. Paul’s downtown airport is a winner in every category. Once you get past the understandable questions of whether you are in the right place as you navigate the final turns to reach the front door, everything else is sublime, from the decor to the menu. We had a great time at brunch yesterday morning.
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Last week, the news story about four elite gymnasts testifying before the Senate Judiciary Committee struck a nerve. We’ve been aware of the story of their abuse by now-convicted abuser Larry Nassar for years. It’s almost too harsh to contemplate, so when the news dies down, we gladly disregard the horror.
The new investigation into the handling of the accusations by the FBI and USA Gymnastics has brought the awfulness back to the forefront. It was almost a year after learning of the accusations before the FBI opened an investigation. It is estimated an additional 70 gymnasts were abused by him during that time.
While listening to a report describing the four gymnasts needing to recount their abuse one more time last week, this thought occurred to me: Their experience was like being tortured repeatedly after they summoned the courage to report the initial abuse.
Logic tells us they are not the only abuse victims who have dealt with this.
Imagine if you suffered a terrible injury in a remote wilderness, waiting days or weeks to be found by someone, wondering if you would survive long enough for help to arrive. It’s the stuff of countless book or film dramas. Eventually, you are discovered and relief is beyond measure. It becomes the pinnacle of these dramas. You are rescued!
Now, imagine if the people who found you don’t do anything after finding you.
Picture yourself laying there for almost another year before they start planning how they will rescue you.
That is the story of the victims of Larry Nassar and every other person whose story of abuse has fallen on deaf ears.
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Doin’ Lowertown
Last weekend was all about the Lowertown district on the edge of downtown St. Paul for us. We attended a concert at the Palace Theatre for a Valentine’s date on Friday night and met our friends, Barb and Mike on Saturday for dinner at the Handsome Hog restaurant that overlooks Mears Park. The drive from home feels quicker than the 35-40 minutes it takes when we exit directly onto 6th street and instantly find ourselves at our destinations, with no other turns required.
The highlight was by far the food and company on Saturday night. The contemporary Southern pig-centric menu is incredibly well-executed, based on the variety of delicious selections we all shared family-style. The location worked as an exact half-way point between our two homes, with the Wilkuses coming from the west and us from the east/southeast. They are the bestest of friends!
The concert on Friday was a meld of Calexico (Joey Burns and John Convertino) and the endearing Sam Beam who performs under the moniker Iron & Wine. They are a good match and clearly enjoy each other and performing together for an audience. I am a fan of Sam Beam’s songwriting and performance and generally can appreciate the Americana Tex-Mex indie rock of Calexico.
Unfortunately, I’ve reached an age where I too easily let the peripheral aspects of going out to see live performances tarnish the ultimate impression of events. The music was good, and the performers wonderfully engaging, so I was happily entertained in that regard.
We were impressed that the opening entertainer, 22-year-old Madison Cunningham, started exactly at the time the show was billed to begin, regardless the many unfilled seats. The first thing I noticed when I sat down in the balcony was that the rows were so tight I would be breathing into the hair of the person sitting in front of me. Luckily, there was no one there for the opening set.
Cyndie and I were unfamiliar with Madison and were pleasantly surprised. It would be fair to compare her singing and guitar skills to Joni Mitchell. No wonder we both liked her.
When the headliners took the stage, the seats in front of us filled and the fog machine pumped a mist to better show off the lights. I’m not sure where the director of the light show was sitting, but it’s a good guess it wasn’t in the balcony. They kept turning the fog machine on so often it was getting difficult to see the performers through the constantly thickening haze.
To make matters worse, they too frequently turned bright lights on behind the musicians, shining the beam up into our line of sight.
While I was fighting to see through all that, my eyes started to water from the essential oil or exotic shampoo aroma the woman in front of me (right beneath my nose) was radiating into the atmosphere. Maybe she had just pulled her coat out of moth-ball storage. It was hard to tell. It evoked a blend of rancid spices rubbed into an old dirty rug.
Much as I appreciate Lowertown, and as fun as it was to hear Iron & Wine music live again, I’m afraid the return to comforts of home with tunes playing through my speakers seems just as good, or even better.
Definitely a sign of aging.
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Without Pause
I barely had time to unpack and catch my breath on Friday evening upon arrival home from the weeklong adventure of biking and camping, before the next flurry of activity began. At this time yesterday, I was in Cyndie’s car finishing up yesterday’s blog post as we raced west toward Chaska for a morning wedding of the daughter of one of our old school mates.
We didn’t have time to linger at the reception, because our afternoon and evening were reserved for the celebration of our daughter Elysa’s birthday. With their slick planning, Cyndie and Elysa had everything set for an excellent combination of activities.
Dressed in our summer wedding fare, we started the afternoon with a visit to Elysa and Ande’s garden plot near their home in St. Paul where we dumped 5 bags of Wintervale compost to cover their sprouting potato plants. Another gardener commented that we seemed a little overdressed for the task.
After that, it was an exploration through the bizarre collection of miscellaneous goods at Axman Surplus. They have everything you couldn’t possibly need, but always find some way to use. Birthday glasses!
Early dinner at On’s Kitchen on University Avenue to avoid the rush for Thai cuisine (Mmmm, Pad Thai!), and then Can Can Wonderland for entertainment.
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We chose to pass on the two-hour wait for the artist-designed mini-golf and settled for old-style pinball from my days of youth, skee-ball, ping pong, and bubble hockey, topped off with a round of beverages. A perfect birthday extravaganza.
Elysa got a candle in her drink.
I think I got more rest last week during the bike trip. Yesterday was like an added bonus day of adventure.
Now I could use a vacation from all my vacation.
Happy, happy birthday, Elysa!
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Out Late
Cyndie and I had a night out on the town with her brother, Ben, last night.
Guess what city we were in?
We met for dinner in a historic diner.
Guess who we saw in concert at the Palace Theatre?
Guess who didn’t get enough sleep last night?
Yeah, that’d be me…
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Climate Forum
Last night we attended a fascinating climate discussion at the MPR building in St. Paul, hosted by Chief Meteorologist, Paul Huttner.
I fully expected to be left in a downtrodden mood, but they actually did a fair job of offering some hope and encouragement about things that individuals can do, as well as sharing some accomplishments of young people who are getting involved to influence municipalities to take some timely action. It’s the kid’s future at stake, after all.
It has me wanting to put more effort into figuring out how we might make further progress toward utilizing renewable energy like wind and solar, in addition to the geothermal furnace we installed when we moved here. I’m also wondering about the possibility of getting a fully electric car. For the long commuting I am doing to get to work four days a week, that would feel like a most tangible change, to no longer burn gasoline and spew the exhaust.
We almost didn’t get a chance to burn fuel on the way home after the event. Upon arriving downtown, we had pulled into the first parking ramp we found near our destination. Signs indicated it was open until 10:00 on weekdays, so we felt satisfied. Unfortunately, when we returned to the building shortly before nine, it was all locked up!
After walking the full circumference in search of an unlocked door, we happened upon a back door with a security intercom. It seemed like the solution, but communication with the person was not entirely clear, and we found ourselves standing and waiting for someone who never came.
We were saved by the coincidental arrival of two police officers who were able to open the door and direct us to the elevator that led to the parking levels below ground. There were no humans around at that hour, but a machine at the exit swallowed our five dollar bill and gates automatically opened.
We gladly hustled the car onto the city streets and headed for the freeway back to Wisconsin, dumping our carbon emissions all the way home.
The data is pretty obvious folks. The climate is changing and the effects on our weather are underway.
It only makes sense to take this into account and make decisions accordingly. Not just for the immediate future, but for the lifetimes of those who will be dealing with it for the next 50-100 years and beyond.
From the “Eat local, think global” catch phrase, try this morph: Act today, with a plan for tomorrow.
And turn off the lights on your way out.
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Downtown Again
Once again, we made the easy dash from our beautiful countryside into the metropolitan energy buzzing just 45-minutes away. Last night, it was the precious Palace Theatre in downtown St. Paul for the Iron & Wine concert.
It was another fabulously successful adventure for Cyndie and me. As a soaking rain settled over the land, Cyndie was able to escort the chickens into the coop early, allowing us to venture through fading daylight and blurring road spray to compete for parking with NHL’s Minnesota Wild hockey fans.
My first parking ramp option just happened to be closed for construction, so it was a single trip around the block, barely squeaking through an intersection on the brink of gridlock, to reach an easy and convenient second choice.
We arrived at the theatre early and took some time to explore the layout, as this was our first event at the renovated historic venue. It is a wonderful mashup of new and old. The almost scary looking ceiling made an early impression, but every other sense was extremely positive for a place to enjoy music performance.
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I had chosen to buy reserved seats in the balcony over the main floor standing general admission. Even though I purchased the tickets as early as possible, the best available was half-way up from the front of the balcony. Cyndie captured a shot while I was checking out the view from the first row. Really nice seats, if you can get them.
We aren’t overly familiar with the full career of Sam Beam as Iron & Wine, but being repeatedly struck by the sound every time I hear a cut played on the radio, I wanted to see where it comes from in person. We weren’t disappointed.
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The giant hanging cotton balls were a little funky, but they captured the colored lights nicely. The dancing light on the back curtain was perfect, every song.
Sam Beam was wonderfully social and totally obliterates any concept of a fourth wall separating the performer from the audience. At one point, he graciously interacted with a fan who shouted a knock-knock joke.
Almost every time, just as the interactive banter approached a point of being too much, the imaginary veil would fall and a song would swiftly transport the ambiance to a far away place of Sam’s creation. He does well with plying a craft of sparse quiet guitar work with delicate instrumentation from his supporting musicians, bolstered by moments of full momentum and volume.
Even though the show started around the time we often head for bed, we hung around for the full show, including the perfect encore song, for which the female members of the band returned wearing beards that looked mysteriously similar to Sam’s.
What?
A wonderful time was had by all. We chalk it up as one more good experience heading downtown from the countryside, again.
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Relative Something 