And a month later, it's no longer Christmas

So, I didn't like the idea of trying to post a blog when I was supposed to be directing people to the last post so they’d have some idea of how to replace me. Then, after I made my decision on the finalists, I just got so damn busy with the Christmas stuff—both in a personal sense and with the hectic schedule two holidays create for the production of our January 3^rd issue—that I just didn’t have the time or presence of mind to put one here.

That and I realized that I’m not entirely eager to put all my nearly inner-most thoughts on this blog since it is the paper’s official one and some of the lame, emotional stuff I sometimes want to deposit just doesn’t fit here. So I’ve reactivated the old one. Go figure.

Well, I told my six semi-finalists—Alex, Molly, Chris, Laura, Brian and Amy Beth—that we’d go out last weekend to really start this process. Not once did I think about them having actual lives that might involve holiday related stuff with people who aren’t me. As a result, I only got to hang out with three of them. And this means, I’m going to drag the process out just one more issue. Instead of using the past couple of weeks to determine the three finalists, and posting their write-ups in the next issue, I’m going to write about what we did, and do the “field trip”, as Brian calls it, another weekend. That means I won’t be announcing the winner at the Awards Show, but that’s not big deal.

We met up at The Rookery because it’s a great place to meet up. At 9pm, it isn’t yet full of people and music and drinking and dancing. It’s just a chill little spot and that’s what I wanted because I wanted enough time to gauge whether or not any of these people were capable of killing me, which, if they were, would mean I’d conveniently disappear so they wouldn’t have the chance. Of the three that met with me—Chris, Laura, and Amy Beth—I didn’t get the feeling that they were either capable or really interested in murdering me. That was comforting. I still decided taking it easy on them.

After talking on the phone to my girlfriend and a couple of her family members, for about a half hour, I came back in and announced that we were headed to the Back Porch Lounge. On most nights, the Back Porch is already a fun place to take folks who’ve never been. They stock three major label whiskeys and three major label beers. It’s a simple place with nice neon signs, and an easy-going clientele. They’re the best hotel bar I’ve ever encountered. Plus, they’ve opened up a big room so they can have music, which meant, on this night, that we’d also be treated to homegrown sound.

Two local noise art bands, Ghost Train and Oh No They Didn’t, were billed to take the stage, and frankly, that makes sense because no other place around would likely book them. They don’t fit into the nice and neat genres that we give our music venues. And on top of that, it takes a special bunch of people to appreciate them. Case in point, ONTD hasn’t played a gig in Macon since, I believe, they performed at the Texas Cattle Company. Mostly they play Athens. They’re loud, grinding, sometimes grating and very different. If nothing else though, they’ve done a great job creating new venues out of places that aren’t ordinary. (Back in the really fun, opening days of our still burgeoning music scene, I attended a show at Gulf Coast Grill, which is now Shane’s. That’s how things went since we weren’t accustomed to having places for live music.)

Ghost Train, a collection containing the two members of what once was Aurelia Aurita with three other local oddballs, opened the night with what I think was a twenty minute song. They did this in front of a pretty packed room of friends so it went over well for the most part. Given my advancing age and aversion to loud, continuous noise, I spent most of the set in the adjacent bar room with the middle-aged folks who, god bless ‘em, gave Ghost Train their best. Most of them came back shaking their head, resigning, as I had, the fact that they’re too old for this. That isn’t a judgment and shouldn’t be considered derogatory because mostly, I thought the music was interesting. If it’d been in the background of a movie, as a soundtrack, it probably would’ve accompanied some interesting images.

ONTD didn’t followed but had some mic issues initially. They sounded a lot better than the recording of theirs that I’ve got, and they kept their uninhibited expressions within more standard song time frames so it was a lot easier for me to get into it. What I walked away with was a feeling that I’d go back to the Back Porch to see them, and that made me think that in the Back Porch, with Oh No They Didn’t, we’d have our own, very legitimate version of CBGBs, which started as a Country-Western bar before it gave birth to the punk and new wave music it was known for.

I took the kiddies to the Red Eye with me because I really wanted to see the Urban Sophisticates. I’m still so glad I did. I bought a CD after the show and have had it playing in my car almost the entire time since. It’s live hip-hop with one MC, an MC/crooner hybrid, and a horn section. In the bandography write-up, I said it was like crossing Heavy Mojo with the Legendary JCs. I was close. After hearing them live, it was more like seeing the Roots play if they had a horn section. It was stellar stuff, and the best way to cap a good night though there weren’t a lot of folks there to hear it. Those who were seemed to love it, and I’m praying someone brings them back soon because I want to catch them after I’ve had a chance to become better acquainted with the songs.

There were offers of going to a party or two after that, but I wussed out. Like I’ve said before, I’m getting too old to want to do this all. Having gotten drunk Thursday, passing out under my desk with the space heater going, walking back to my house the next morning at 8am, hung over and tired, I didn’t really want to get crazy again. I hope you understand. I just have to pick my spots from here on out.

Merry Christmas.