Spring break is wearing my blogging out. I do things worth writing about almost every day. Yesterday’s adventure was going to Amy’s house, aka The House of Love to see the first New York performance of The Shabbys. The Shabbys are (is?) Eamon O’Leary, Elise Leavy, and Stephanie Coleman. I have seen each of them many times, they have all played The House of the Love, but this is the first time together as the Shabbys.
The House of Love is in Red Hook, which is quite a trek, an hour and a half away. Doors were at 8 and consulting with Google Maps told me that I’d arrive at 7:56. I like to get there early to claim the Archi Bunker chair. I got to the 4 station two minutes before the train was scheduled to arrive, I love timing things like that. The train didn’t come. After waiting for what seemed like forever, probably 5 or 6 minutes, it came and didn’t stop. No announcements came to explain what happened. I was not too upset, I just waited for the next train which arrived 12 minutes after the one I planned on taking. I had no problems getting there at 8:08, or even the 8:20 that was possible as there’s often a long wait for the B61 bus. That’s a famous bus, Aoife O’Donovan wrote a song about it. She’s been to the House of Love; I like to think that’s why she wrote it. But that’s not what happened. I got to the bus stop just before the bus came. I saw it waiting for the light to change as I got close. I ended up getting there at 7:54. That never happens. I was so early that doors weren’t open. That’s unusual, I’ve gotten there early before and just hung out. They were running a bit late.
This was only their second show since the pandemic started, and my first. I was excited. It’s one of my homes away from home. Like Jalopy it’s a clubhouse of the folk community. I go there and I will find people I know, usually musicians in the audience. Last night was no exception. I was happy to see Tamar Korn who I’m seeing next Thursday at the Porch. There was one non-musician that I recognized. I know I’ve talked to him and told him that he looks like Richard Thompson. I decided it was too awkward to go over to him and say, “Hey do you remember me, I told you that you look like Richard Thompson?” I’m aware that I feel bonded with people through incidents that the other party considers trivial.
The one person I knew would be there is Dan as we arranged to go together. This was my second time seeing him this week in Red Hook. He was at the show on Tuesday; we saw Sami Braman along with the Stephanae, Coleman and Jenkins, who were joined by Reed Stutz. That’s the same Stephanie Coleman as in the Shabbys. I saw her twice in a week in Red Hook. I asked her if she was going to take out a restraining order on me. She said no. She’s nicer than me, I’m going to take one out on Dan. Dan’s wife, Anna, says that Dan and I are like an old married couple. That makes her my sister-wife. I’m her brother-husband. Why are you looking at me like that?
If you know Stephanie, Elise, and Eamon, I don’t have to tell you how the show was. They are all great so of course the show was great. Steph played fiddle, Elise guitar and accordion (not at the same time), and Eamon banjo except when Elisa was on the squeeze box, then he played guitar. They played originals and fiddle tunes, and other trad or trad sounding music.
I can guarantee you that I had a better time than you did. There was a dog in the audience. It wasn’t the late lamented Django, Amy’s dog, who sadly died. It belonged to someone in the audience. During the first song it came over to me and recognized that I’m a cynophile and put his paws up on my lap. He or she, I didn’t check then proceeded to lick my face. I realize that some people would hate that but to me that’s heaven. Dogs are my favorite people. They give unbridled affection.
After the show Dan and I had to decide if we were going to run for the bus that was coming in four minutes. I told him that we’d probably not make it, and I wanted to hang for a bit anyway. I got to talk to Amy and Steph. The next bus wasn’t for more than a half an hour, that’s why I always check the time to see if I have to run for the bus. There has been more than one occasion where I just missed it and came back to the house. This worked out perfectly, we made the next bus, which came a few minutes early by running the last half block. We didn’t really have to do that. The bus ride goes a lot faster when I’m with a friend. We then had almost no wait for the F train, which worked for both of us. We parted ways at West 4th Street.
I listened to the Met game on the way home. They beat the Oakland A’s, a major league team in name only, 17-6. They were the beneficiaries of 17 walks, one off the major league record but a Mets team record, plus two hit batsmen. I watched the end of the game on TV when I got home. This year the average game time is down to 2:35, last night’s game was 3:30. It just missed being the longest 9-inning game of the season. In recent years many games lasted that long and even over four hours. The pitch clock is the greatest invention since sliced bread and peanut butter matzoh brei. That’s what I had for brunch.
Now I have to put this to bed and write Gord’s Gold. Tonight, I’m going to Brooklyn again. This time it’s to see Debutant Hour at Barbès. I’m taking full advantage of Spring Break. I’ll have gone to a Seder, two Met Games, and three concerts before it ends. I was with friends for all of them. So much for being lonely. Next week I’m going to three concerts too. Only one will be on a school night. The Mets are on the road. Once again, I don’t know how to end this, so I’ll show you a picture of my spirit animal, the echidna aka spiny anteater. Why is it my spirit animal? Because Carey told me that I was cute in a spiny anteater sort of way. That’s not the words that came out of her mouth, but I knew it was what she meant.
Wise Madness 