A Year of Great Live Music

It seems crazy that for about 18 months in 2020 and 2021, there was no live music. I wasn’t watching it. I wasn’t playing it. I was, well…I’m not sure what the heck I was doing for those 18 months. Can you remember what you were doing? I think that the old John Steinbeck quote from Travels With Charlie rings true: “Eventlessness collapses time.”

By the end of 2021 I’d gotten a few gigs and dipped my toes into watching live music again: one outdoors and one indoors with masks on. Some great shows, but for me the floodgates really opened this year, 2024, a magical year for music that will surely provide the signposts necessary to truly remember the time period, rather than having it float away in the ether of my fading memory.

What’s particularly gratifying is that I saw eight acts I’d never seen before in six venues I’d never visited before, including two iconic sites: The Troubadour and The Hollywood Bowl. Both were very cool to check out and rectify the preconceived mental pictures I’d conjured (turns out that The Troubadour isn’t narrow and deep, but wide and shallow. Who knew?). In addition, I’m happy that at least half a dozen acts are producing legitimate new material. In other words, I wasn’t only scratching the itch of seeing legacy acts. Finally, as I wrote about a few months ago, I got to see shows with two of my kids, my wife, my sister, and a bunch of buddies, adding another element of good feelings.

Without further ado, here’s the list:

January 27, Black Pumas, Salt Shed (indoors), Chicago, IL
March 22, The Lone Bellow, The Troubadour, West Hollywood, CA
April 18, Graham Parker, Old Town School of Folk, Chicago, IL
April 20, Robert Cray Band, Des Plaines Theater, Des Plaines, IL
June 8, James Taylor, Ravinia, Highland Park, IL
June 16, Joe Jackson, Cahn Auditorium, Evanston, IL
June 27, Mike Campbell and the Dirty Knobs, Pat McCurdy, The Dandy Warhols, The Hold Steady, Summerfest, Milwaukee, WI
August 17, Sara Bareilles with opener Renée Elise Goldsberry, Hollywood Bowl, Hollywood, CA
September 18, Keane with opener Everything Everything Chicago Theater, Chicago, IL
September 26, Lake Street Dive, Salt Shed (outdoors), Chicago, IL
October 8, Charles Heath Quartet, Andy’s Jazz Club, Chicago, IL
October 17, Saga, Arcada Theater, St Charles, IL
October 24, Stevie Wonder, Fiserv Forum, Milwaukee, WI
November 1, BEAT (80s King Crimson), Copernicus Center, Chicago, IL

In addition to these shows, I played live eighteen times, plus a church gig or two, I recorded 50 podcast episodes, I completed an album, wrote additional songs for my next project, purchased close to 100 records and CDs…if I’m being honest, by the time I saw BEAT in November, I was kind of finished. It’s been a hell of a great year for music.

To date, I have tickets to only one show in 2025, and given the amount of money my family has been spending lately, that may be the way it has to stay. It’s time to do more writing, recording and producing and less consuming!

Back to Baseball

It’s Tuesday morning, and as I write this a replay of last night’s Brewers game is streaming behind me, a comforting companion to my morning. Like Bob Uecker himself – who’s announced Brewers games on the radio since I was three years old – my life’s accompaniment has always been baseball.

Except last year.

In a bit of bravado, on the heels of baseball’s moronic lockout that delayed the start to last season, I decided a year ago that I was done with baseball. And I was. After announcing in February, “Screw ‘em. I’m done,” I didn’t watch any baseball on TV except for a few game recaps, and I only attended five innings in person (at a White Sox game to hang out with my daughter and her partner).

This was a big change for me, and as I summarized last October, I didn’t really miss it. I found other things to do with my time, and I got lucky that the Brewers didn’t finish the season strong, sparing me the agony of having to watch my team miss the playoffs for the first time since 2017.  But I recognized that my baseball boycott might not continue.

A new season has started, and it only took four games for me to dive back in, purchasing the MLBTV package and following every Brewers game since in some form or another (a game recap, highlights, live or on-demand).

What led to this turnabout? Two things that I can think of:

1)      Major League Baseball, finally – FINALLY – enacted rule changes meant to speed up the game, something that should have been done a decade ago. It was a relief to check out box scores for the first few days of the season and see game times of 2:21, 2:32 and 2:57 (the latter for a high-scoring 9-5 game). This change was sorely needed. After enduring over a decade of watching showboating Ryan Braun step out of the batters box after each and every pitch to mess with his batting gloves, viewers are now treated to a streamlined game that transpires happily, neither rushed nor sluggish.

2)      Reviewing the box scores for those first four games was jolting for me because I recognized three names in the starting line-up. THREE! And I’d only been away for a year! I suddenly felt oddly disconnected from my hometown, no longer a native to Milwaukee, but an outsider. 

It was a combination of these factors, and the fact that the Brewers got off to a hot start, with three young rookies making an impact, that led me to spend $150 for MLBTV, eschewing the monthly bill that I could have opted for and cancelled at any time.  Nope, was all-in.

Two nights ago, I watched a spectacular 1-0 Brewers victory against the Padres, the only run being scored from a combination of a bunt single, a balk, a stolen base and a sacrifice fly in the second inning.  That was it for the night, and I sat on the edge of my seat as Wade Miley and Yu Darvish traded zeros through the seventh inning, and my heart raced as Brewers closer Devin Williams loaded the bases in the ninth and took Trent Grisham to a 3-2 count before obtaining a game-ending strikeout.

Baseball is back!

Life Without Baseball

There’s a running gag in the movie Airplane! in which Lloyd Bridge’s character, stressed out by an impending airline catastrophe, utters “Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit smoking.” Throughout the film, he raises the ante, substituting “quit smoking” with “quit drinking” “quit amphetamines” “quit sniffing glue.” Fantastic.

At the beginning of the 2022 Major League Baseball season, I thought I might wind up in a similar state, as I had given up baseball despite the Milwaukee Brewers sprinting to a 32-18 start. 

Fear not, I thought. There’s still time.

And there was. In contrast to Lloyd Bridge’s character, it looks like I picked the right year to quit baseball.  After all, baseball quit on me and the rest of the nation in February and March, as spring training was postponed to accommodate whiny billionaire owners and whiny millionaire players while the rest of the country recovered from a hangover of COVID isolation, inflation, low-paid jobs, an attempted coup, disappearing lakes and rivers, and everything in between.

Good going, baseball! You are run by a bunch of morons.

In February, I wrote a blog called Baseball Digs its Own Grave and finished with the line, “Screw ‘em. I’m done,” uncertain if I would actually live up to the bravado of the sentiment. But I did. For the first time since I was a wee toddler, I didn’t watch any baseball except for a few game recaps and 5 innings of a White Sox game in early August solely to hang out with my daughter and partner who were looking for something to do on a balmy Chicago afternoon. I also checked out the box scores and standings a few times a week.

That’s it. Compare that to 2021, when I attended four games in Milwaukee (despite living 90 miles away) and watched upwards of 120 games via my now cancelled MLBTV subscription (after over a decade of loyal viewership).

In short, I followed baseball the way most sane people do: scanning a few headlines about the hottest teams and Aaron Judge’s historic home run pursuit.

I wasn’t sure I could do it, but as happened to so many people during the bleakest months of COVID isolation, it became very clear what I could live without. Not only could live without, but could happily live without. I did not miss baseball in the slightest. My evenings were spent playing music or taking walks or chatting with neighbors, and my visits to Milwaukee included record shopping with a friend, attending a lakeside beer garden, and enjoying a backyard barbecue. No $20 parking. No $13 beers. No frustration watching an anemic offense. No tearing out my hair as my team collapsed and failed to make the playoffs for the first time since 2017 despite uncharacteristically high expectations.

Sure, I was intrigued when general manager David Stearns traded Josh Hader away to the Padres, but this intrigue was squashed when a subsequent move to improve the woeful offense didn’t occur. And after reading this fine post about some of the boneheaded moves (or non-moves) of management this year, I’m thankful that I wasn’t subjected to such incompetence as a passionate participant. Instead, I was able to watch things from afar, with sensible detachment.

Now, I know that there’s a cost to detachment. I recall October of 2018, when I attended Game 1 of the NLDS and watched the Brewers edge out the Rockies as I maniacally cheered, waved my victory towel and downed beers. It was a great evening (less great was watching that same team lose twice to the Dodgers, once in Los Angeles, and once in Milwaukee for the decisive Game 7). I know that sports can lead to wonderful moments. And that’s what’s at stake here. The possibility of being elated. Of being overjoyed.  Of screaming up to the heavens when the Brewers finally, finally win a World Series. 

That overwhelming jubilation will be denied me even if the Brewers do finally win it all one day, because I will no longer be watching with the passion I once felt. I’m not saying that my baseball boycott will last forever. It might not even last more than one season. I don’t know. But I will no longer invest emotion into Major League Baseball. The most I’ll invest is a mild appreciation for the sport itself, and $100 or so to attend a game with all the fixings.

A couple of albums ago, I wrote a song called “Put You Away.” It’s a good one, and the lyrics perfectly capture how I’m feeling right now: 

I
I've got to put you away for a while
Someplace I'll one day say with a smile
Or maybe a tear
This is where I kept my heart from feeling
Cuz I
I can't bear to feel any more
This is so much worse than before

All those little heartbreaks when you're young
They don't compare to what feels like a ton
Of trouble taking me down
All my passions turn to sure disaster
And I
I've got to put you away in a drawer
And remember how it was before

How you opened up my soul
When all I wanted
Is to crawl back into a hole
You let my spirit soar towards a future
Paved in gold

I have visions in the night
It seems so close I almost toast the cup in victory
Could this be really happening?
Could this be really happening?

Oh, how you opened up my soul
When all I wanted
Is to crawl back into a hole
This hurts me more than words can say
And still I know no other way
Cuz this is really happening
Yes this is really happening to me

So long, baseball.  It was a good run.

Brewers 2021 Wrap-up

They say baseball is all about pitching, but the 2021 Milwaukee Brewers proved that offense is also a required component for a legitimate World Series contender, as they lost to the Atlanta Braves this week in four games while scoring a sum total of six runs, including two shutouts.

These four games were sadly reminiscent of the four games I attended in 2021, when the Crew scored a grand total of four runs, losing all four games. Three of these games took place after the acquisition of shortstop Willy Adames, whose presence gave the team a needed boost at the end of May.  I like a good pitchers duel now and then as much as the next guy, but the team I watched during those four games was not a fun team to watch.  The offense was anemic, the baserunning and defense sloppy, and the overall excitement generated was subpar.  And while the Brewers surged during the second half of season, their offensive numbers over the entire season were, well, terrible. 

Milwaukee ranked 26th in batting average, 24th in slugging percentage, and 20th in OPS.  Defense didn’t help either.  The Brewers ranked 9th in errors allowed, 28th in double plays, and 21st in fielding percentage.

It was this team that somehow – miraculously – managed to score enough runs throughout the season to lock down the NL Central in easy fashion.  Their pitching staff was so good – ranking 3rd in runs allowed per game – and the division in which they played so mediocre, that the Brewers ran away with their first division title in three years.  Even offensively, the Brewers managed to score the league-average number of runs per game, but I don’t know of any Brewers fans who felt confident entering the playoffs.  Four game later, our concerns have been unsatisfyingly validated.  The Brewers’ pitching staff once again had to be nearly perfect for the team to even have a chance of winning, and in the playoffs against a good-hitting Braves team, this was an awfully tall order. 

The pitching wasn’t perfect, but it was solid.  What was embarrassingly bad was the offense.  During the playoff series against a good-pitching Braves team, the Brewers swung and missed at more pitches outside the strike zone than any playoff team has a right to.  This is best encapsulated by Avisail Garcia’s third at-bat in game four.  After swinging and missing at two sliders down and away, Garcia swung at the next pitch – also a slider – in the exact same location.  What made Garcia think that pitcher Huascar Ynoa – after having adequately demonstrated that he needn’t pitch in the zone to get a strike – was actually going to throw in the zone for his third pitch is mind-boggling.

This one at-bat sort of sums up a lot of the Brewers at-bats this season, and it highlights the concerns for next years’ Brewers team (and begs the question: will batting coach Andy Haines be returning next season?).  On paper, the Brewers’ pitching and infield seem to be in relatively good shape for 2022, with nearly every player returning.  These were the strengths of the team in 2021 (tough first base is still a concern).  But the Brewers’ outfield is currently bloated with highly-paid players who are performing absolutely terribly.  Garcia was the lone bright spot (though not always), but he likely won’t be returning to the Brewers next season.  Instead, the Brewers have returning Jackie Bradley, Jr., who just completed one of the worst offensive seasons in Major League history), an injury-prone and past-his-prime Lorenzo Cain, and Christian Yelich, who’s not even a shadow of his former self, garnering a shocking 1.3 WAR in 2021. 

How will the Brewers fortify the outfield with some offensive numbers?  There’s only one way that I can think of given that the team salary is already stretched, and that’s to make a deal to trade some of their stellar pitchers on the staff.  With the luxury of having three aces in Corbin Burnes, Brandon Woodruff and Freddy Peralta, very capable 4th and 5th starters in Adrian Houser and Eric Lauer, and excellent relievers in Devin Williams (albeit a very, very stupid Devin Williams, who used his pitching hand to punch a wall at the end of the regular season) and Josh Hader, I would not be surprised some of these guys were traded to bolster the offense for 2022.  We shall see what David Stearns and company decide to do during what will certainly be a volatile off-season, as players and owners hash out a new collective bargaining agreement.

Where would you Time Travel?

When it comes to thought-provoking discussion topics, one of the most intriguing has got to be: “If you could go back in time, where would you go?”  I asked a friend of mine this question recently and he said, “I’ve never thought about it.”  I find this mind-boggling, as I’ve spent days of my life contemplating just the rules of such an endeavor, never mind the actual answer to the question.  There are so many variables to consider:

• How long can I travel back in time?  An hour?  A day?  A year?

• Do I get to choose when to come back, or is the duration predetermined?

• Can I stay if I choose to?

• Am I going merely as an observer, or do I get to interact with my environment?

• Will my actions change history?

• If I do interact with my environment, will I know the language of the people I meet?  Will I arrive with the proper clothing and currency?  Will I have access to basic toiletries and lodging?

• Can I go back as myself and relive an event from my own life?  If so, do I go with my 53-year-old brain and understanding of the world, or do I go back to the person I was at that time?

• Once I arrive, am I bound to the travel restrictions of that time?  For instance, can I visit multiple places with the snap of a finger, or would I have to walk or ride in a bus, boat or carriage?

• Can I die, be harmed or put in prison while I’m away?

It can get complicated quickly, and each answer to the above questions will radically change the central answer to the central question.

When I asked a few of my Christian friends, they didn’t need to think twice: witness Jesus’s resurrection.  Fair enough.  Another friend of mine thought that seeing her grandparents as young adults would make for a good trip.  I like that one a lot.  Some of my music-centric friends thought about attending one of the seminal concerts by their favorite bands.  One friend thought about witnessing the JFK assassination and paying particular attention to the grassy knoll to see if there’s any truth to the conspiracy theories.

For me, I’ll make the following assumptions:  I will not interact with my environment in a meaningful way, but I can make small talk, order food at a restaurant, etc..  I can observe people, places and events, I can eat food, and I can be visible if I choose to be or an invisible observer when appropriate.  I am not subject to injury, death or imprisonment.  I can travel via the methods appropriate for the time period.  I can sleep in some other dimension, as opposed to living along in a dingy motel somewhere.  Money is no object.  I can not change history.  I can stay for up to a month.

Given these assumptions, I would consider time-traveling to Milwaukee on September 23, 1957 and staying for at least three weeks.  I have the following in mind:

I’ll first attend County Stadium to witness the Milwaukee Braves game on Monday night, September 23, and watch Hank Aaron hit a game-winning, league-clinching, two-run homer in the bottom of the 11th inning and celebrate with over 40,000 other fans in attendance.  A few weeks later, I will attend games 4 and 5 of the World Series and watch the Braves beat the Yankees, and I’ll stick around in Milwaukee to watch/listen/cheer/celebrate with my fellow fans on October 9th and 10th while the Braves beat the Yankees in the Bronx.  I could try to travel to New York to see the games, but I think it might actually be more fun in Milwaukee.

Since there’s a lot of time to kill in between these two events, I’ve got some ideas. I’d like to take a bus to Memphis, Tennessee, and on September 27th see The Biggest Show of Stars, including Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly and the Crickets, The Drifters, The Everly Brothers, Frankie Lymon and Paul Anka.  Not too shabby.  And two days earlier, on September 25th, I can see Elvis Presley at the Eagle’s Nest, also in Memphis!  Even better, the weather in Memphis that week looks to be in the mid-70s to the low-80s, so I’d try to take a boat tour, eat some good southern food and get a flavor for the area.

If possible, I’d then like to quickly travel up to Green Bay for their 21-17 victory over the Bears at the inaugural game at New City Stadium (now Lambeau Field).  I’ll be there with 31,000 other fans, and future president Richard M. Nixon (and current - at the time - Vice President) will dedicate the stadium at half-time.

During the following week I’ll go back to Milwaukee and visit both sets of my grandparents.  I knew my maternal grandparents, Elmer and Louise, quite well as a young adult, but I’d love to see them again, hear them laugh, watch them cook a meal, play cards, sing in the choir, etc.  I’d even take a few bus rides with my grandfather at the helm as a city driver.  What a hoot that would be.  And then I can go just a short drive away to my paternal grandparents, Edwin and Mildred, who I didn’t know nearly as well in my lifetime, and get a fuller picture of who they were.

I would also kick around the land where I grew up in Menominee Falls and Brookfield.  None of the homes I lived in will be there yet, but I’d still like to see how things looked prior subdivisions being developed.

During my downtime, I’ll watch current movies in theaters.  It’s hard to know exactly what films will be played during this three-week period, but they might include Jailhouse Rock, Sweet Smell of Success and A Face in the Crowd.  Maybe a few older films will be playing around town as well. And I’m sure there will be local concerts worth seeing. I’d also like to attend a Reform Judaism service somewhere in Milwaukee or northern suburbs and see what the services consisted of back then, and I’d like to visit Capitol Drive Lutheran Church where I’ll attend Sunday School a few decades later.

That sounds like a pretty good three-week time-travel vacation.  If the parameters were to change, so would my answer.  What if I can only go back for one hour?  What if I can change history?  What if I can snap my fingers and change locations?  What if I can interact with my environment with absolutely no worry about changing history? 

Oh, the possibilities are endless.  Sorta like this blog entry!

Where and when would you like to go?