I’m feeling mellow tonight. Maybe it’s because I’ve been off all this week for Spring Break. Maybe it’s because I’m still feeling a little down since my baby returned home to the wilds of the Mid-West. Maybe it’s because it’s Easter tomorrow. But I’m in a James Taylor sort of mood. Sometimes, only his brand of mellow will do.
And you’re in luck–it’s a two-fer! Because I couldn’t resist Sweet Baby James. Happy Saturday night!
You could say that Mr. R. and I live in the boondocks. We bought our little Mediterranean-style house nearly five years ago in a community west of West Palm Beach known as the Acreage. The community crosses into the city limits of about four different towns and it’s called the Acreage because every property has more than an acre of land. Sometimes a lot more.
It’s a fresh alternative to living in town in overpriced planned communities with their zero lot lines and their HOAs. I could never stand for some repressed little preppy committee to tell me what color I can or can’t paint my house and what I can or can’t park in my driveway. We don’t pay for sewer or water because we have a septic system and our own well. We’re not worried about lead in our drinking water.
We can keep livestock on our property if we want. Our neighbors across the street, Tom-Tom, a gay couple (both named Tom) whose business is selling ballroom dance shoes, keep chickens and goats around their own much larger Mediterranean-style house. The other day, Tom really tried to talk me into buying their new-born pedigreed pygmy goat. I told him we weren’t quite ready to pull the trigger on the goat thing just yet.
Two doors down from Tom-Tom, the nice quiet family on the corner sold their house to a new family. These folks enjoy creating a track for racing their ATVs around their giant lot. Not so quiet. They also enjoy playing their music LOUD.
It can be annoying. But I’d still rather have them than an HOA. Besides, just because their music is loud doesn’t mean it isn’t good. They played this song yesterday. I love this song.
I love St. Patrick’s Day. My favorite way to celebrate the ‘wearing of the green’ is in an Irish pub listening to great live music. My first choice would be the James Joyce Irish Pub in Ybor City. I’d settle for O’Shea’s here on Clematis.
This year, I’m eff-ing working. Sigh. But I wanted to share a little of the great music anyway. You don’t get much more authentic than Galway Girl.
But another favorite, less traditional though it may be, is Happy Man by The Prodigals. I’ve seen them several times here at Irish Fest and even conned them into a photo. But I had the privilege of seeing them perform at their home bar, Paddy Reilly’s in Manhattan. If you’re ever in the Big Apple on a Friday night, you should definitely check them out.
The video quality is lousy, but the song is terrific.
Here’s wishing you a very Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Tonight’s serenade is by request from Mr. R. Seems he’s had an ear worm all week long, been unable to get it out of his head.
The song takes me back to when we first started dating over ten years ago. We’d hang out at Respectable Street, known as Respects by those who frequent the place. It’s a club down on Clematis and it doesn’t get hopping until after midnight.
Respects is a cave of a place, housed on the bottom floor of a nearly century-old downtown building with hardwood floors, dark walls, a banquette of seating along one side, a huge dance floor fronting a medium-sized stage, and an LED-lit glass-block bar with a right angle in the middle as it straddles the junction of two walls. Out back, there’s a small courtyard with its own DJ where the Sleestacks and Orcs hang out.
We always had a great time at Respects. It’s the kind of place where all folks are welcome. You see typical club-goers wearing the latest trends, guys in jeans and polos, Goth girls carrying tiny coffins as purses, lesbians in comfortable shoes, and everything in between, and everyone always gets along. I love that about the place. There was one night when we were there at closing time, around 4:00 am. The lights came up and for no apparent reason, everyone gathered around the bar and sang Strawberry Fields Forever.
All of that to say, Low by Cracker brings back some fond memories. “You realize that this song came out in 1993,” I helpfully informed Mr. R.
It’s the weekend, my friends. What a hard-fought, long-ass week it was. One I thought would never end. But here we are on the first Saturday in March. Yesterday, we celebrated Mr. R.’s birthday. That’s a sure sign that spring is nearly here and the countdown to summer has begun.
I’ve had this earworm all week. Probably the result of listening to classic rock radio on the way to and from work everyday. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Old cuts like this one from Van Halen take me back to a simpler time, maybe that’s why it’s stuck with me. And have you seen them lately? Eddie looks terrific. He’s had his health issues and struggles with addiction but it seems he’s come out on the other side of them as good as ever. Diamond Dave’s voice, not so much, which is why I chose this classic video from back in the day.
So go ahead, take a chance. You’re old enough to dance the night away. Happy Saturday Night!
You must be logged in to post a comment.