Wild Moccasins opened for Saturday Looks Good to Me last night. They were a good band, but they dressed like a NYC band c. 1982.
Also, why would you take pictures of Fred Thomas’s shoes?
if you’re like me and 84.36% of all your dreams involve food, then you’ll find the gypsy dream dictionary to be an indispensable source in interpreting your visions. here are the secret meanings behind dreamfood that nobody outside of the new age community wants you to know about:
- bacon・to…
phenakistiscope party iii #2
comrades unite! the beautiful thing about phenakistiscopic animation is that by reversing it and changing the focus, the timeless scene of the aristocrat breaking the back of the laborer can be repurposed into the portrait of a weary boss yielding to a never-ending barrage of proletariat workers. the disc remains the same but the story it tells is a very different one. we shall use this new propaganda to our advantage!
They’re Baaack!
Oh, I’ve got my tickets already.
In case you haven’t heard the news, Saturday Looks Good To Me is back together!
We’re re-releasing the previously out of print All Your Summer Songs LP on Record Store Day (limited to 1000 on white vinyl) to coincide with a short tour the band will be doing this spring before they hunker down to finish a new album.
While you’re waiting for a fresh batch of songs, you can enjoy the playlist Andy put together below.
It’s an unusually warm spring day, yet almost everyone drives. The sidewalks are vacant, the porches empty. A few people in the park. There is no water feature in Monroe where people congregate. You can bike 3 miles out on the old rail line without encountering another bicycle - or anyone once you’re outside the city. The drive-in south of town doesn’t open until April.
Rationalization seized the town elders at some point. Nearly all the streets have numbers, not names. 10th and 4th. 22nd and 27th. There is a grid pattern to the streets, with enough gaps, eccentricities and the like to keep newcomers off balance. One of the parks is named Recreation Park; another is North East Park. This descriptive habit extends to high school athletes: the Cheesemakers.
A square is in the middle of town, in usual Wisconsin county seat fashion: a courthouse in the center, one way streets with storefronts and banks surrounding it. The heart of the town, even the town itself, has had a bypass. The state highways which used to lead through the center now form a divided highway up and over the town. A solution, a halo, a sword of Damocles; it’s enabled new development outside the old grid. Congestion is not a problem.
Nor is the courthouse a courthouse anymore. It’s still government offices, surrounded by concrete and parking from its steps to the shops surrounding it. The surrounding square is somewhere between decline and revival. The parking is rather full, although some storefronts are empty. Antique stores, some restaurants, bars and the like fill the space. Bland music is pumped out of the courthouse, probably to keep youth away. A clothing store displaying spring green blouses in patterns befitting The Golden Girls is closed. The buildings are rather handsome. At night, the teens descend on the square to go to the movie theater. I’ve been told this is rare. The new movie’s main characters come from rural areas and are pitted against each other. There is hope.
A block or two south lies the brewery, now owned by Canadians. It’s fairly unassuming. It’s seen brands come and go; I could only name a couple of their current beers, both of which are decent. A few miles north, a smaller town with similar Swiss heritage has seen a brewery open and establish a better reputation in the past few decades. Monroe remains America’s Swiss Cheese capital. A sibling rivalry?
Somewhere there are people, but mostly it’s the stillness of parking lot turns, the courthouse muzak, and the sidewalks leading outwards past early green lawns. Bring your companions with you, and walk.
