Monday, March 05, 2007

Dearest Tuscaloosa

Thank you for a pretty awesome weekend.
I like your beer.
And the rock of Egan's.

Vulture Whale played there on Friday night.

Wes the McDonald

John Snowden's MOOOSTACHE (Kradackledack)


Dutch, my brother, fresh off the boat.

Tim Ros seriously hearts the Robots


Pictures of Ham Bagby's amazing Balloon Balancing Act:

Ham Bagby is Amazing

Ham Bagby is Tall

All the Balloons love Ham Bagby

Dutch stayed comatose all day (which is understandable, I'd want to spend 24 hours in a state of slumber too if I'd just spent 20 days swabbing decks). I did laundry, went grocery shopping, explored his house. All of my furniture, including my piano, are stored there for the time being. I've missed my stuff. It's funny, though, to see that my brother and I decorate the same. We have a mutual love for vintage pictures and fixtures and antique furniture. In his little house in Northport, he's even gone so far as to restore and install vintage appliances in his kitchen. The Frigidaire is positively lovely. That's an odd thing to say, but so so true.

I met Tim at around 9 for drinks at the Downtown Pub. He had promised beer and bad music. He delivered.

My friend Dan stopped by the booth where we were sitting. Dan played drums for Ralph Jackson at the Birmingham Sound show last August. As I was trying to explain Ralph to Tim, the story of Ralph and the Black Kat 45, Dan stopped me midway and said, "let me put it to you this way, if there hadn't been James Brown, there would have been Ralph 'Soul' Jackson." I smiled. At that moment I wanted to show Tim the Birmingham Sound DVD, I wanted him to see Ralph and his soul scream so he could know that Dan was telling the truth. Dan pulled out his cell phone and played a track for me from a band he discovered while on tour in England. He said that he could hear Ralph in their music. He could hear Ralph singing something like that. He fumbled with his phone and motioned to it and said that it was basically so awesome that he could strap himself to it and it would take him to the moon.

Sitting across from Tim in the booth, listening to Stroke 9 and Tal Bachman, watching the level of the beer in our pitcher fall and magically be renewed, I lost myself for a bit in the midst of conversation. We talked about school and music and family and working in record stores. All of the sudden, the lights went bright and I realized it was almost 2am.


In a dirty parking lot, within your fair city's limits, lies a treasure trove of musicness.

I bought a new CD organizer.
And I dropped it somewhere whilst running errands with Dutch.

So if you've been fiending some of Eddie Hinton's Southern Soul or have always wanted to own a copy of Will Johnston of Centro-matic's solo album, be on the lookout for a small burgundy nylon case. It should be glowing from the beauty of it's contents. (Check: Walmart, Target, Full Moon Barbecue, OZ Music)

All the best,

Sara Leah

1 comment:

Sally said...

I know Egan's well. It is possible that I met my first husband there. I wonder why it didn't work.