Well, I forgot to make notes for this week. I've reconstructed it as best I can. If it's not on my calendar (the two concerts were), not on my credit card bill, not in my e-mail, and not in my notes, it's lost to history, I suppose.

6/4

Thanks to Bryan's IM logs, I now know that I saw Knocked Up. I remember being entertained. Not a brilliant film or anything, but funny enough. Thanks Bryan.

6/6

I'd been wanting to try Alton Brown's meatloaf recipe, which verges on the untraditional, so Cindy and I tackled it. Despite some geometric issues due to my lack of a loaf pan for shaping, the loaf turned out moist and tasty. I had many a meatloaf sandwich in the ensuing days.

6/7

Since I had last seen the Hold Steady, their album went from being something I'd listened to once to my favorite of the year. So, needless to say, I was excited about the show. And I had a plan. Obviously, music that revolved so heavily around drinking required much drinking to be properly enjoyed, right?

I had recruited Will to join Cindy and I, figuring that he would enjoy both the drinking and the blue-collar-rock-as-tool-for-literary-analysis-of-blue-collar-teens-and-young-adults. He came, we drank many beers very quickly, and the world's best bar band took the stage.

It was absolutely perfect. The drunken community of the crowd, shouting out lyrics and such ("who-o-o-o-ah"; "gonna walk around and drink some more" etc.). The band's beyond enthusiastic performance. It's one of the few times I'm glad a show was packed. All the elements of that night worked synergistically. And I had made Cindy drive.

6/8

OK, so I may have been not at the top of my game the next day. But it was worth it. And it was of little significance; the boss was leaving for his big summer sabatical. He took a few of us out to lunch, gave us a pep talk, and the smell of sweet freedom was in the air.

That night, Cindy and I had tickets to see Calvin Johnson (of Beat Happening, K Records, the Halo Benders, a fuck-ton of cameos, etc.) at the Aurora Picture Show up in the heights, taking a break from its usual role of screening underground and independent films to serve as a music venue. I'm pretty sure the building is a converted church; I'm too lazy to check the, but at least take that facts, but at least take that for its descriptive value. I'm pretty sure we sat in pews. I had been told that it was kosher to BYOB, but I'll tell you that regardless of context, it feels weird to slip your cooler up under a pew.

The opener, a young lady who played solo, was good if I recall correctly. But I'm too lazy to look up her name.

Calvin took the "stage" primarily solo with some occasional instrumental assists, but the format was of little concern, because even without a band the man is an electrifying performer. His commanding yet awkward boom of a voice, combined with his theatrical stage presence kept the audience quiet and rapt. I particularly enjoyed the Halo Benders (his project with Built to Spill's Doug Martsch) songs that he played. I don't think he played any Beat Happening but I'm not sure; I'd imagine that most of his material came from his solo work, but it could also have been from other bands of his with which I am unfamiliar. In keeping with the indie pop/twee tradition, his songs were sparse, prescious, funny, and surprisingly affecting and powerful. It was an interesting counterpoint to the night before, and a genuinely beautiful show.

The man himself was personable afterwards, guiding me in my choice of CD purchases and t-shirts—I chose his "Impeach" t-shirt, which he explained was what he would rather see people wear than something with his name on it.