Category Archives: Music

Because I still love rock and roll

What does Wilco have to do with my meal plan? Stick with me. We’ll get there.

I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who’d cash in all of her husband’s frequent flier miles to go half way across country for a musician. Turns out I was wrong about that.

Rockford and I were both psyched (yes: psyched) when we saw that my very favorite group, Wilco, was going to be playing an outdoor show in Columbia, Missouri, this year. We lived in Columbia for five years, and we made a lot of great memories there. Not the least of which were the four Wilco shows we saw there. So we bought tickets, booked flights and on Sunday we got up before 6am and were in CoMo by lunchtime. Which was lovely timing, because it meant we got to have lunch at Shakespeare’s Pizza with our friends B and Rachel. After lunch we went back to our hotel — also paid for with loyalty points! — for a nap before going downtown to wander.

I’d decided that as a responsible grown-up, I would be just fine if we weren’t directly in front of the state at this show. The front of the stage is for hip youngsters, not stodgy homeschooling moms. I would be fine near the back, where it’s less crowded and your ears don’t ring quiet as much after the show. And then we got downtown, and Wilco was doing their soundcheck, and we watched it from directly in front of the stage, and it washed away all of that responsible-grown-up business. As soon as the soundcheck ended I joined the other 10-or-so people who lined up at the gate to get a shot at the front row.

This was our 15th Wilco concert, and I’d rank it in my Top Five Favorite Concerts. It was worth the flight, all the points and sitting on the sidewalk for an hour.

However: All that jetsetting does not put dinner on the table. Nor does it plan dinner, which is why Tuesday morning found me still puzzling over just what we’d be eating this week. I’m afraid nothing on our menu this week is even a little bit rock ‘n’ roll, though.

Tuesday: Homemade Crunchwraps

We’ve tried this recipe once before, and it’s really tasty. I’m going to add some black beans.

Wednesday: Spaghetti & meatballs

This meal always raises the question: Will I actually make the meatballs? So suspenseful.

Thursday: Jambalaya

Zatarain’s was on sale for $1 a box this week.

Friday: Pizza

I’m still dreaming of the day I get a grill that’s up to the task of cooking a pizza. I stopped making my own pizzas because I got tired of setting off the smoke alarm every Friday night.

Rockford’s rock ‘n’ roll summer

Our very last Summertime Rewind post is brought to us by our own Rockford, who as I type this is singing Vanessa Williams’ “Saved the Best for Last” to me. Which really does something for his rock & roll street cred, doesn’t it?

Like everyone else, I have lots of great summer memories. Family gatherings on hot days, road trips, vacations to exotic locations (you know, like Wisconsin or other upper Mid-Western states), cookouts, playing frisbee in the backyard — all of these are in the memory banks.

The memory that recently rose to the surface of my recollection relates to summertime concerts. I have seen lot of shows over the years, and many of them in the summertime. Funny thing, the summertime heat seems to bring out the classic rockers that find a welcome reception on the state fair/theme park rotation. You know, we’ve all seen the billboards beckoning us to come see Bad Company at some regional casino usually in July or August.

My first concert rock was one of these special summertime shows — The Steve Miller Band at Six Flags over Georgia in 1994 with my best friend Don.
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The perilous nature of cassettes

One of the most difficult things to deal with when pondering mix tapes is the transient nature of the medium. Tapes get old. They run down and get warbly from repeated (and frequent) use. They get stuck in that nether region between the bottom of the seat and the car door and get smashed into bits. They get stressed and Mixtape Remixpulled by constant rewinding or an over-zealous fast-forwarding mechanism. They get warped by the heat of the sun and the plastic dash board.

And sometimes, they just die.

I was at my parents house when I went searching for a tape to write about this week. The place of my upbringing, the place I went from records to tapes to CDs to digital media. This is where I perfected my craft, spending hours every week listening to music in my room and making tapes. If any place was going to have a real treasure, it would be here.

And what a treasure I found!

In the previous post, I mentioned that many times I made tapes to mark a vacation — a new compilation to start a journey. What I found was an old friend amongst the stacks of Eagles greatest hits and Paul Simon cassettes yellowed by age and almost illegible from the years of fingers that smudged the ink, sliding them into or removing them from the car stereo. What I found was the mix I prepared in 1996 before leaving for our yearly fishing migration to Minnesota.
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