Re: Bob: BridgeportCT: 30sep07: Lengthy: (Ir)relevant

On Oct 1, 1:40 am, President_dudley <dud...@xxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Glad you had such a good time Mr. President. Sounds like a good time
through and through.

Sorry about the deep fried, though. I should have warned you. Pretty
good thing you didn't go to Phyllis' at Savin Rock; they serve up
twice the food 'cause they gotta' compete with Jimmie's next door. Old
Cap'n's got a monopoly on the wharf. Still, it's too bad you couldn't
cut the grease with a brew or two...maybe you can get someone else to
drive next time...

And that Elvis; he's such as card. Two master showmen in the lap of
the master, the one and only Mayor Promoter who created the Greatest
Show on Earth (before the current administration that is) and coined
the phrase, "There's a sucker born every minute," which apparently has
become the credo of this great land of ours. At least he got half the
message right.

And Bob has his say too, as we watch the loons rise against the
dollar, he croons us with Workingman Blues #2 in the shadow of Jenkins
Valves and surrounded by the ghostly remains of our industrial
greatness. No surprise then that he's headed north where the coin is
strong and the fix is weak.

But it is too bad that he didn't play Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
somewhere in that set seeing as he was in the little giant's adopted
hometown having resided less than 1/2 mile from the concert site! But
on the other hand, I never really though the song was about Tom Thumb
anyway...

Great report; thanks!






Dear friends,

Just got back from seeing & hearing bob, & here's my thoughts, which
as always are mostly about me.

It was a bright & beautiful early autumn day, the foliage just
beginning to turn colours. I was unable to find my flashlight (for
flashing into the wings preEncore), and stopped a couple of places to
find a new one. If they were the right size, the price wasn't right;
if the price was right, they were too big. So it goes.

I took the 84 from the west unto the east, exiting at Number 9
Newtown, and traveled the 25 down to Bridgeport. That's mostly a 2lane
blacktop with speed limits between 35 and 45 mph (not sure of the
conversion, but 50mph is approximately 80kph) through Connecticut
towns bordering on the quaint, lotta whitewashed victorian frame
houses, big old flags in the town square, and strip malls & business
but only a few large commercial sites. I'm sure the side roads lead to
more pastoral settings in the Norman Rockwell vein, and i don't mean
that ironically.

Course down around Trumbull the quaint 2lanes turned into about 60
lanes each way leading to Bridgeport, home of Connecticut's only zoo,
i'm told. All told, including stops for gas & the flashlight quest,
not even an hour and a half.

I took the exit 3 to Main Street & located the venue, its parking, and
my escape route, which i used to follow the nose of mapquest to one
Captain's Cove, a quaint maritime spot with shipyard, marina,
drydocked vessels, a minuscule boardwalk with even tinier shops where
like a man in solitary one could not even lie down, altho' that wasn't
the idea. Also a great little place to eat with outdoor tables & a
variety of foods, of which i veered toward seefood ( i sea food & i
eat it ). There's also a bar with liquour but i abstained as i do when
driving.

My only misstep of the day was ordering the "Captain's Platter", a
heaping serving of fried (no broiled) clamstrips, cod, shrimp &
scallops (pronounced "skawllups" and particularly sweet tender &
succulent they were), breaded lightly, on a mass of french, not
freedom, fries shoestringstyle & a few onion rings (real onions, not
chopped reconstituted); if that weren't enough, a packaged container
of coleslaw & a small dinner roll with butter, and goodsized
containers of prepared tartar sauce & the red cocktail sauce which
could have used more horseradish but this wasn't Baltimore where you
can get that.

The misstep being it was just too much food, as witnessed by the fact
they give you two sets of plastic cutlery. The quantity of food was
enough for two healthy appetites, or three like mine elderly one. I
had to throw much of it away, which i hate to do. I'm embarrassed
enough by how well i eat without wasting. Nonetheless, it was a bright
& beautiful autumn day, a good one for supping al fresco by water. If
yer every in Bridgeport for a show or other you could do worse than
the Captain's Cove, just order smaller portion, eh?

That said, it was back to my car & back across the 95 to the Arena at
Harbor Yard. During which time the Mets had folded bigTime, as big as
the 64 Phillies, and at the same time my dad's Phillies ended up
winning the division, much to his delight. Apparently up there where
he is he holds greater sway over their fate than he did on earth.

I spent sometime digesting with a smoke in my car, listening to Chris
(MadDog) Russo on the FAN lambasting the woeful Mutts, and also
listening to the Jets woeful defeat at the hands of the only New York
football team, the Buffalo Bills.

Then i went out with the other early arrivals ('nHour & a half
preShow) & got my bearings to return to the parking garage (5$US). The
Arena is right next to the homefield of baseball's "Bridgeport Sound
Tigers"; i'm not sure what class of baseball team that is but the
Sound might refer to the body of water the town of Bridgeport is on, &
which Captain's is a Cove of. That's long island sound to long
islanders, but connecticans might see it other. Nice little small ball
field kind of like where the Renegades play over to Fishkill by me,
and bob might've played his smallball park shows.

Then i took readings to make sure i could find my way home from the
venue... navigatin' out to the 95 again, then the 25 north from there.

There was a guy out front the venue, and then another fellow joined
him, they were like a bob dylan juke box. Pretty good too. I had
prepared for this event by listening to Modern Times (not bad) & bob's
recent performance at the Austin City Limits Festival??? (pretty
awful, but to defend my evaluation i'd have to listen to it again,
which i'm disinclined to do since it tended to support the "Dylan cant
sing do we ignore it" camp). I was afraid they'd be the best bob i'd
hear this evening.

Then since people were queuing up i had a last smoke & got in line.
Basically i'd see bob in anything; i'd stand in the rain; like Gregory
Peck, his performances tend to have a redeeming value of a higher
moral quality than most popular acts, even if the performance sucks,
which Peck's hardly every did but bob's sometimes do.

The lines crawled, and here's a suggestion for ya'll: DoRight like
dudley. When you get up towards the metalWanding thingie, remove all
metal objects (coins, carkeys, lighters, limited range nuclear strike
devices) from your pockets & hold them up in your outstretched palm.
The wanding thnigie comes up empty (instead of you having to dig into
yr pockets to find the object setting it off & then repeating til you
clear) & the attendant smiles at you & saieth "Smart" as if everybody
doing that would make her or his job easier.

Smile back. Smiling will not mess up yr hair, if any.

Then inward, abandoning all hope. But smartly, the Arena has a small
area out of doors for smokers. I can unnastan' folk not wanting foul
air anymore, but at least give this godForsaken generation a place to
suck their way to the oblivion we all eventually achieve.

K.

Amos Lee opens. He's not on my ticket, which i paid for, but i don't
complain.

Don't know much about him. Probably heard a song or two of his on
WFUV.

He & his band are pretty good. If you're going to one the shows on
this tour & he's on the bill, i'd recommend getting there on time to
hear him. His voice is not shot; his band stays loose & stays tight &
they display the hunger to please of an act not yet big time & all
down in taken for granted situations. Lotta thank yous, appropriate
band member intros & some small talk.

Then there's the Elvis Costellos. I go out for a drink of water prior
but not a smoke 'cause i don't wanna miss 'em & don't.

Turns out to be one guy.

My hands still hurt from clapping in applausal appreciation.

Declan's a pretty smart fellow, and made mention of the fact that
Bridgeport is home to P.T. Barnum, who may've invented modern
showmanship. & that's what Elvis did, showmanship up on a higher level
short of this way to the egress. He came out on stage with an
unrelinqueshed energy level like his appearance on SNL all those years
ago

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOuknbvu21Q

30 years later, solo, matured & with less hair. Set list similar to
one posted elsewhere here. Same Pete Seeger singalongs he had us on,
vibrating, political, tweaking neocon america with the possible
ascencion of one of his twin sons to Presidency (as if i'll give up
the post short of someOne standing me a pint).

NonStop energy, a bottle of water clearly but what was in the cup?
Also a bumper sticker on the back of one guitar; couldn't make it out
from my 14th row far stage right seat but a disinterested fellow up
close i asked he said "something about rebuilding new orleans".
Clarification requested.

Finally, the madly medley segue from Radio Sweetheart to Van's Jackie
Wilson Said breathtaking genius singalong to the Nick Lowe drivin'
power no stitch dropped "(What's So Funny 'bout) Peace Love &
Unnastan'in?"

The answer my friend...

& the slowkeyed "Scarlet Tide" about a war widder, the difference
between a widow & a bride.

"the radio is controlled by such a lot of fools trying to anaesthetise
the way that you feel"

K.

So i got the picture i had time for a smoke & went out, energised,
hands tingling. I recommend applauding, if you're really appreciative
of a performance, arms stretched high upright as you can, hands flat
together. Stretches the spine & looses the kundalini. Just a hair.

K.

Can't say much about bob's show. Flashlightless, my notes are
gibberishly unreadable, sometimes scrawled over lines of each other.
One note i can make out says "Sumer Nights" which i guess is a paean
to the invention of the ancient sumers whose early brew i'm currently
imbibing in its modern form, having waited 'til i got home to crack a
one. I wasn't about to pay 5.75$US for a Budweiser when a 12pack is
like only about double that outside, nor the same price for a badly
drawn Guinness which will only make me poop black.

Besides DWI the cops hate the most. They'll let you go for speeding,
but despise the DWI for it's too much paperwork.

Suffice it to say, Bill Pagel's setlist is good reference. (thnaks to
Ed & Maurice et alia... where were ya? I was section three, row M,
seat 14 (outside aisle by the glass if it were a hockey rink... pretty
good seat, directly looking at bob on keyboard, which he was after 3
songs). I'll leave the blow by blows & erudite overviews to those more
capable & knowledgeable. PSB's review of Merriweather Post Pavilion
could substitute hear.

Suffice it furthur ta say, i'd already gotten my money's worth (75$US,
apparently equivalent to canadian & weak to the euro if that's still
used), so bob was icing on the gravy.

The ? becomes: "Dylan cant sing anymore. Do we just ignore that?"

OR

"his voice is shot"...
To which i reply: He can & he can't. We do & we don't. It is & it
isn't.
Like ah said, i approached this show with unprecedented trepidation,
having heard an mp3 of an audience recording of Austin, & more
importantly having experienced already the good the ...

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