When Karl started up the stairs tonight, he encouraged me to write about an adventure he had with The Girls, our neighbor’s chickens, earlier today. He basically said, “It’s the end of a long week, Lis. Write about something funny.”
So I’ve been sitting here, struggling to capture the humor of today’s avian escapade, but the words just aren’t materializing.
My feeling is that I need some photos. I don’t want to write about The Girls without being able to point to their feathered finery and surprisingly hefty girths. It’s obviously been a while since I pet sat The Girls because they really seem to have grown up since the last time, which may have been either this past fall or – more likely – last summer.
Wow. How time flies. And how things can change in such a short period of time.
Stunning View
So I’m going to wait on writing about Karl and The Girls. But I do want to share a stunning view I had the other night as I drove across the Williamsburg Bridge in NYC. The lights approaching and leaving the city were brilliant. The night was perfect for taking in the depth and breadth of the enormity of this place on Earth – with all it color and tremendous diversity.
My heart felt like it was expanding beyond my rib cage as I crossed the Williamsburg Bridge the other night. Perhaps it’s my naiveté or perhaps it’s my delight in the simple pleasures of bright and colorful lights, iconic architecture, and glistening water. Whatever it is, I wanted to capture it somehow, even if the magic barely registered it.
Yesterday was one of the few times I’ve ever been happy about traffic coming to a standstill. It gave me the opportunity to put down my passenger side window and take a couple quick snaps of the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building shining forth in the night.
So Lovely
Perhaps I’ll manage to snap some photos of my chicks tomorrow. In the meantime, please indulge in the lights of the city that never sleeps. Don’t forget to indulge your delight wherever you find it.
I missed the cutoff to publish this post in time to have it go out in email this evening. But I’m nevertheless going to get it posted before I go to bed. Email-only recipients will simply receive a ‘double-dose’ of Ruffled Feathers tomorrow. My apologies.
The reason for my blown deadline is that Karl and I were in NYC attending a concert by The Hu, and it was after 1:00 a.m. by the time we pulled in the driveway.
I’ve written about throat singing here and The Hu, specifically, here, but I have to say, I don’t think I ever expected to see them in person.
I Am a Rube
Before I go any further, you might find it amusing that I had no idea there would be no chairs where this concert took place, and did not discover this fact until we were having dinner with family, right before we walked to the venue.
“Seriously?” I asked my nephew when he broke the news that we’d be standing all night, throughout the entire concert (including the opening act) – and could quite possibly find ourselves in the vicinity of a mosh pit.
“Yep,” he said, nodding his head as he finished the last finger-licking bite of his house special tacos. (We ate at Mesa Coyoacan, in Brooklyn – omg beyond yummy.) “I’m sorry; you’ll probably wish you had some earplugs, too. Things can get really loud there.”
I looked across the table at Karl, who just rolled his eyes. “We’ll figure it out,” he commented. “We can always leave early.” Nevertheless, I felt like a total rube for not having even once considered that the concert might be…intense.
“Oh,” Al added as an afterthought. “You might’ve wanted to bring earplugs.”
The Warsaw – Photo: L. Weikel
The Warsaw
Thus we found ourselves walking to the Warsaw, wondering just how bad an idea was turning into. Were we going to stick out like sore thumbs as some old geezers? I don’t feel geezerly, but damn – the potential was real. I just might succumb fairly rapidly after walking to the venue. I doubted I had the will to stand for three hours.
The Warsaw itself was great. A bit smaller than I’d anticipated, with a high, white plaster ceiling in the concert venue, and a clean and roomie ladies room. (This was important to me, since I knew I’d be standing for hours…!) We arrived about half an hour before the start-time on the tickets, so managed to get surprisingly close to the stage.
I made a conscious decision not to be in the center. I wanted to have easy access to an exit, just in case I wimped out.
Al Lover
The opening act was a trance/dance/synth artist named Al Lover. Since this was the type of music my son Karl created and introduced me to years ago, I really liked it. (You’ll recall it’s in his honor I’m engaging in this 1111 Devotion). Anyway, much as I really liked the music, it made me sad to see Al bent over his synthesizer on the stage, creating the same music that reminds so much of my son.
Al Lover – Photo: L. Weikel
I’m listening to Al Lover’s music as I write this, in fact. It’s putting me in a zone that’s helping the words flow. Thanks, Al.
The Hu
When The Hu finally came on stage, they did not disappoint. They. Were. Great.
I wish I could upload some snippets that I recorded, but instead, I’ll just link to a couple of their videos.
The Hu – Photo: L. Weikel
I can, however, share some still photos. You can see, we were pretty close to the stage. I loved feeling the music every bit as much as I heard it.
The Hu (Love his instrument) – Photo: L. Weikel
Toward the end of the concert, a group of about eight guys sort of in the center, in front of the stage, started hurling their bodies about (vaguely in time with the beat) (but not). I’m guessing this was our first experience of a ‘mosh pit.’ It looked painful, and I moved out of the way so I wouldn’t get slammed with an elbow (or some other body part). They seemed to be having a great time – but I wasn’t tempted in the least!
I’m tired, but determined to get this written before I go to bed.
I would go see The Hu again in a heartbeat. And I’d go to see Al Lover, too. We didn’t leave the concert early; and we even stayed for the encore. Our feet held up – but I have to admit: my ears are still ringing.
