ByGD
In January of 2013, I saw the brilliant, short-lived Rose Windows at Showbox. Poor Moon and the Cave Singers also played that night. I had recently returned from a solo trip to Iceland for the Airwaves Festival where I saw over 40 shows. But I was already on the bus downtown before I realized that this was the first show I had ever attended by myself in the United States.
ByGD
When I came home from Iceland Airwaves in 2012, I had prepared some hair of the dog. In this case it was tickets to see Neil Young with my mom at Key Arena on Saturday, and a show with my husband at El Corazon on Sunday. We were there to see Insomnium. I had forgotten Epica was on the bill until I stumbled on this picture.
ByGD
My kitchen counter is lined with growlers from Reuben’s Brews. We empty them quickly then then they sit empty until my husband has time to take one back and fill it up. Sometimes the whole family runs up for the refill, but until recently it was always a quick errand. The tasting room at Reuben’s was too busy and crowded for a family with small kids to spend much time. Until recently. Read More
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Dancing with Adra Boo onstage at Ra Scion’s 2014 Doe Bay Fest set.
Last summer was all about the festival. I walked down the street to the Fremont Solstice Fair, traveled to a remote fjord in Iceland for Eistnaflug, to a remote island in the Strait of Juan de Fuca for Doe Bay Fest, and rode the bus to Bumbershoot, dragging my kids along to three out of four. When I left my day job, I knew that one of the sacrifices I would have to make, at least initially, was live music. There was no justifying the cost of tickets plus babysitter, especially when I am sometimes paid to cover shows. I would have to limit myself to work-related concerts.
As a result, I stopped following the concert calendars, which resulted in my missing many new releases as well. It’s just easier to miss shows you don’t know about. Then the kids were off for summer vacation, and it’s hard to seriously listen to new music with kids running around, so for the past couple months, I just let music go. During Solstice I hung out at the block party, but didn’t catch any shows; I followed Eistnaflug wistfully on Twitter, and plugged my ears at any mention of Doe Bay. Timber was supposed to be my Doe Bay consolation prize, but the dates conflicted with a family event.
At least I could count on Bumbershoot, I thought.
ByGD
Struck down by an angry god.
© Philip Newton
“Zeus isn’t real,” my daughter confided one day when she was four.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Yesterday I told a lie on purpose and swore by Zeus.” Swearing by Zeus was fashionable among her older sister’s Percy Jackson-obsessed friends. “And I didn’t get hit by lightning. Zeus isn’t real,” she concluded.
Fortunately, in a story that sounds apocryphal, Giuseppe Verdi’s lightning test led to a different conclusion regarding divine power. Read More