Point of reference

Sometimes it gets lonely when no one around you shares any of your points of reference. For most of my adult life, the people I worked and socialized with happily shared at least one point of reference. Even though we were all different ages, races and economic backgrounds, music brought us together in a common thread. With that music came a certain view of history and pop culture, touchstones one and all.

For example, my husband and I caught part of the Democratic National Convention and the governor of Montana had just given a speech. Commentators were reviewing it, talking about how Montana will matter this year. My husband quipped, "Of course it will matter, where else will we get dental floss?" Without even a pause, I added, "Or pygmy ponies." Anyone at all even vaguely familiar with Frank Zappa would have said something similar and laughed just like we did. That same comment where I now work would have branded me even stranger than they already think I am. Beware, crazy musician in cube C674.

Beware: crazy, lonely, misunderstood musician with a wry wit trapped in cube C674.

The Bottle Rockets Rock Record Store Day

You can't listen to The Bottle Rockets without smiling. And foot tapping. And singing along. Real people making real music that anybody who's ever spent some time livin' can relate to. So when my friend at Euclid Records told me they were doing a set there for Record Store Day.... what better way to start a Saturday?

Stripped down, they still rocked. From the lyrically challenged version of 1000 Dollar Car ("don't buy your music on the internet, just look up lyrics") all the way through to a bleary-eyed Gotta Get Up audience sing-along, the boys did what they never fail to do, make the people happy. Best of all, we were treated to one of the new, yet to be recorded songs from next year's forthcoming record. You're gonna love it. Promise.

But that was only the start of Record Store Day! Five more bands played, plus special DJ Spins and great grub from local eatery Highway 61 Roadhouse. (Which was quite fitting, since the Roadhouse occupies a building just down the street that for years housed Streetside Records, a now defunct local indie chain that I used to call home.) All this plus give aways, ear candy and goodies galore! Hey, it just warmed my heart so see so many people in a record store again. Shopping, buying, trading, chatting, it was magical. Don't let this be your only trip to your local indie record store this year! Stop in often, talk to the record schleppers, tell 'em what you like and let them turn you on to stuff you won't be able to live without. One less fancy frappuccino a week could get you a used CD that won't be gone in 22 sips and has zero calories. You can do it, I know you can, you won't regret it. See ya at the record store.