Has anybody seen a dog dyed dark green? About two inches tall with a strawberry blonde paw, wearing sunglasses and a bonnet and designer jeans with appliques on it? If so please let us know. Her owner is very worried and is offering a large reward of five dollars. Five dollars is not so large, but the afro that the artist has drawn upon Lincoln's head on this particular five dollar bill is ginormous.
Now, for the weekend. Our Friday Afternoon Concert commences at 5pm with one of our all time favorite chanteuses, Melissa Ivey. Free. At 7. You will be charmed. Possibly even moved.
At 7pm Friday we have a local band, Ironwood Rain, with musical ties to both the harmonies of CSN and the bounce of Jack Johnson. $5.
Then at 9pm Friday we have the gorgeous Zydeco R&B of Curley Taylor and his band, who have come all the way from Louisiana. Great music to dance your cares away to. $15. Sponsored by Colorado Friends of Cajun and Zydeco.
Saturday we start off with Zumba at 10:30am. Great way to get in great shape while having a great time, greatly.
Then at 1pm another great big band jazz group, Sentimental Sounds at 1pm. We have three big bands making regular rounds to the D Note and we just think that's just amazing. Come dance, or just listen. Free.
At 4pm Saturday we have the Music Train Family Concert Series which features a cat named Monte Selby. Here's what the Music Train website says about him. "Monte Selby is a songwriter with over 100 published songs for adults & kids. As a recording artist with MDM Records, Nashville, his CDs include legendary and Grammy-winning musicians, songwriters and producers. He loves helping all ages of learners, has a Doctorate Degree in education, and is the co-author of eight books. Selby’s comical performances leave audiences laughing, singing, and applauding across North America and Europe. Music Row Magazine describes his songs as “a delightful variety” - “funky” - “astonishing” - “Wow”!"
Wow. $7 adults/$3 kids
7pm Saturday is a local HS rock band with a lot of energy and drive called Synergy. $5 adults/$3 kids
8:30pm Saturday is a local blues rock band called Blind Child. $5
And 10pm-midnight we have a couple good heavy rocking indie bands, Finding Nowhere and Gang Forward. $5
For Sunday we should remind you that we have Mello Cello Brunch from 11am-1pm with beautiful live cello music by Monica Sales, excellent breakfast pizzas, and bottomless mimosas and bloody marys. We should also remind you about our unique baby boogie from 2-6pm: bring your kids to hang out with other kids while you eat and drink and be merry. Aaand we should also remind you that we have one of the best salsa nights in the world on Sunday nights with lessons starting at 8pm and a band at 9pm.
Next Tuesday is Adam DeGraff's birthday party at the D Note and to celebrate he will be playing his songs in rotation with some of his very favorite favorite local songwriters, Melissa Ivey, Tony Medina and Mike Whalen. Adam wanted us to let you know that he really hopes you can make it. 7pm. Free.
So much to choose from!
Extra credit: Here's a nice example of the intricate and inimitable way poet Paul Muldoon's lyrical mind works...
A Hare at Aldergrove
A hare standing up at last on his own two feet
in the blasted grass by the runway may trace his lineage to the great
assembly of hares that, in the face of what might well have looked like defeat,
would, in 1963 or so, migrate
here from the abandoned airfield at Nutt's Corner, not long after Marilyn Monroe
overflowed from her body stocking
in Something's Got to Give. These hares have themselves so long been given to row
against the flood that when a King
of the Hares has tried to ban bare knuckle fighting, so wont
are they to grumble and gripe
about what will be acceptable and what won't
they've barely noticed that the time is ripe
for them to shake off the din
of a pack of hounds that has caught their scent
and take in that enormity just as I've taken in
how my own DNA is 87% European and East Asian 13%.
So accustomed had they now grown
to a low-level human hum that, despite the almost weekly atrocity
in which they'd lost one of their own
to a wheeled blade, they followed the herd towards this eternal city
as if they'd had a collective change of heart.
My own heart swells now as I watch him nibble on a shoot
of blaeberry or heather while smoothing out a chart
by which he might divine if our Newark-bound 757 will one day overshoot
the runway about which there so often swirled
rumors of Messerschmitts.
Clapper-lugged, cleft-lipped, he looks for all the world
as if he might never again put up his mitts
despite the fact that he shares a Y chromosome
with Niall of the Nine Hostages,
never again allow his om
to widen and deepen by such easy stages,
never relaunch his campaign as melanoma has relaunched its campaign
in a friend I once dated,
her pain rising above the collective pain
with which we've been inundated
as this one or that has launched an attack
to the slogan of "Brits Out" or "Not an Inch"
or a dull ack-ack
starting up in the vicinity of Ballynahinch,
looking for all the world as if he might never again get into a fluster
over his own entrails,
never again meet luster with luster
in the eye of my dying friend, never establish what truly ails
another woman with a flesh wound
found limping where a hare has only just been shot, never again bewitch
the milk in the churn, never swoon as we swooned
when Marilyn's white halter-top dress blew up in The Seven Year Itch,
in a flap now only as to whether
we should continue to tough it out till
something better comes along or settle for this salad of blaeberry and heather
and a hint of common tormentil.