The blue sky gets a little bluer

Several months back, my friend Andy invited me to join him and some friends to see Wilco at the Murat theatre in Indianapolis for the bands June 15th show. After much deliberation and a gentle nudge from my wife, I accepted my friend's invitation. This would be my third time hearing and seeing Jeff Tweedy and company live since attending Wilco's Rockfor Riley benefit show at the Murat back in the Fall of 2005 with my friend Chris. It need not be said that I was greatly anticipating this show, especially after enjoying the bands May 2007 release Sky Blue Sky on multiple listens. I was all prepared to set a course for downtown Indy after work where I was to meet up with Andy and some of his friends at McNiven's Pub for a couple of drinks before the the show. Then came the call at 8:30 the morning of the show.

Andy had been listening to 92.3 WTTS while driving to a meeting and called in with the answer to the "morning music mindbender" winning two front row tickets to the Wilco show and passes to their soundcheck that afternoon. I could go on about the details which comprised the rest of the day's events, but I'll just say that I had the great privilege of enjoying some great live music by one of the most incredible rock outfits on the planet. During the soundcheck about twenty five of us got to hear performances of "Ashes of American Flags," "Hell Is Chrome" and the live rarity "A Magazine Called Sunset." During the soundcheck, Jeff Tweedy addressed the crowd saying, "So you guys won some kind of contest?" I shouted, "My friend did!" Immediately, he fell to the ground while grabbing his sides and laughed hystericallyuntil he could finally bring himself back to his feet to continue with the soundcheck... at least that's how I remember it.

After the soundcheck, the guys in the band met us all out in the lobby to sign cds, pose for snapshots and say hi. They honestly couldn't have been more pleasant. I had couple cds on me which Jeff Tweedy, Glenn Kotche, Nels Cline and John Stirratt each signed. I was thinking about what a strange relationship exists between a band and their fans. Through art and media, the public have a small window into their lives and we come to rock shows to be a part of their art and somehow share in their experience. In some small way, we know who these people are and what their lives are like, but they don't really have the same opportunity to know all of these people who come out to their shows and buy their records. Even though we've never met, I'm shaking hands with Mr. Tweedy saying hello to him and calling him Jeff because I feel like I kinda know him after listening to all of his records and reading about his life in a book. It's strange. I know this isn't some kind of new revelation, but I've never really had the opportunity to consider this relational dynamic at this level before. I guess I'm really just making this point to say that the guys fromWilco seemed to address this odd relationship with as much respect and gratuity as anyone could. The whole experience was a rare treat which allowed me to feel a bit more connected during the concert that night to these guys who have wooed and inspired me with their music.

Thanks again Andy.

Wilco
Murat Theatre
Indianapolis, IN
June 15, 200

Setlist:
1. A Shot In the Arm
2. Side with the Seeds
3. You Are My Face
4. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
5. Kamera
6. Handshake Drugs
7. War on War
8. Impossible Germany
9. Sky Blue Sky
10. Jesus, Etc.
11. Hate It Here
12. Walken
13. Shake It Off
14. I'm the Man Who Loves You
15. Hummingbird

(Encore 1)
16. Sunken Treasure
17. Spiders (Kidsmoke)

(Encore 2)
18. Heavy Metal Drummer
19. Outtasite (Outta Mind)
20. California Stars

Silver haired daddy of mine

My father is an incredible man who has taught me the value and honor of quiet humility. He is a teacher, a servant, a husband and a father. He is a brother and a son and a friend who listens and counsels without judgment. He is 56 years of age and has returned to school to study Church history, theology and Hebrew among other subjects while embarking on a new chapter of life. He can still sink a three pointer and run up and down a basketball court alongside 20-something punks and put them to shame. I look at the photo above all washed over time in shades of ocher and umber and I see the same joy and love in that new father's eyes as I see thirty years later. I don't believe I've ever been left to wonder whether my father has loved me. As I anticipate fatherhood, I hope to be half the father that mine has been.

Cheers Dad!

Download:
MP3: Johnny Cash :: Silver Haired Daddy of Mine
MP3: Glen Phillips :: Have a Little Fun with Me
MP3: Cat Stevens :: Father and Son
MP3: Bill Mallonee & Vigilantes of Love :: Every Father Knows

With all the honesty I can muster

On Saturday evening I attended the high school graduation of my good friend, fellow Pilot and The Mustard Room patron Ryan 'Shamous' Helvie. In the three and a half years which I spent as youth ministry equipper at center grove church, my relationship with Ryan had been one of those which had been rife with honesty and restless pursuit of genuine faith. In many ways, Ryan reminded me of myself when I was his age, but he also showed maturity well beyond his years. Though he grew up in the church with parents who deeply loved and cared for him, he would not allow himself to simply ignore questions of faith which kept him awake at night. He constantly expressed a desire to experience the gospel message which other's seemed to be content simply discussing. From the time I've known him as an eighth grade student, we have shared a friendship of openness which has helped to shape both of us into who we are today.

Although my wife and I have had similar relationships with other students who continue to enrich our lives today, I bring special attention to Mr. Helvie today because he has always proven to bend to no one else's expectations of who he should be - for better or for worse. Even as he graduates from high school, he sets out to spend his Summer away from the family and friends whom he loves so dearly to be a counselor at Camp Grier in North Carolina. After the graduation ceremonies and dinner with Ryan's family and a few friends, Andrew Furrow and I spent a couple of hours in the Helvie's family room enjoying some good conversation with our friend before saying goodbye for the Summer. One of the most difficult yet rewarding characteristics of the strange animal I've known as 'youth ministry' has been watching kids grow into young adults and follow the voice of God away from their homes as they sojourn into the unknown.

On a lighter note, here is Shamous' stark review of an album I promised but never released as well as an amazing piece of impromptu audio by our good friend. Enjoy.

Hey this is Shamous and...

I’m not going to lie, after a series of bribes involving large quantities of the beverage which shall forthwith be referred to as the, “Coops” I’ve been talked into writing a review for Broken Record’s newest release by Joel Rockey, Marquette®. Even though I said I wasn’t going to lie at the beginning of this paragraph; I already have. No; I wasn’t bribed with coops (nobody has a large enough supply of the drink), in fact nobody even remotely asked me to write a review, I’ll even go so far as to say that if the guys at Broken Records knew about this piece of literature (and they don’t) they’d do everything in their power to prevent it from reaching The Mustard Room. But, Shamous is gonna do what Shamous is gonna do so pick up the phone it’s me, you. Anyway I’d like to pause for a brief moment and stab myself in the thigh with a rather sharp kitchen utensil and then re-gather my thoughts.

Alright, where was I? Oh yes, Marquette®, the latest installment in the plethora of Joel Rockey’s albums. First off, I love this record, the way the raging down-tuned guitars simply scream over the ferocious pounding and beating of drums all the while backing howling vocals of pain is simply head-banging, weight lifting, coops drinking music.This deadly record is definitely more ticked off, hungry, and a heck of a lot angrier than any previous works, and is topped off with a heavy dose of brutality, all served up by coops driven mad men like Joel, whose goal is as with every record to use music as weapon of sonic destruction.

Thus, I’ve lied again and in doing so destroyed the new record’s image with this review; I don’t know what got into me, I may have consumed to many of the beverage now known as coops, Sorry. Truth is, I’ve never heard the album but I’m sure I haven’t done it justice with this review so just disregard this whole thing and I’ll leave you with this quote which includes a large amount hip-hop slang--“ Not all dorks have this haircut but only dorks have this haircut."

With all the honesty I can muster,

Shamous