Spamalot at the Paramount

On Saturday night Jana and I headed downtown to the Paramount to see Spamalot. When we were in New York a couple years ago Spamalot was the big buzz show, but it had sold out long before we tried to get tickets. After missing out on the show in New York, we were happy that the touring company came to Seattle and that we were finally able to go.

And that's what Spamalot is, one big happy time. Lots of goofiness, lots of looking on the bright side, lots of what you'd expect from a Monty Python musical. As advertised, Spamalot "loving" rips off classic Monty Python movies, mostly The Holy Grail and The Life of Brian. The most effective bits ("It's only a flesh wound," "I'm not dead yet," Knights who say "ni," Taunting French castle guards) are taken directly from the movies, and are still completely hilarious. Sometimes even more hilarious because they are even more over the top. The less effective bits parody other musicals, but they are still a good time.

You might notice, though, that I'm writing about bits instead of the whole musical. That's because Spamalot doesn't really hold together as a story with characters that you really care about. It's just a bunch of stuff that happens. Funny and charming stuff, but more like a comedic variety show than a classic musical.

So, there you have it. Spamalot is definitely a fun time out, especially for Monty Python fans, but it is far from the greatest musical of all time. Just lots and lots of fun.

In case you're wondering, here are my five favorite musicals:

1. Avenue Q
   
2. Les Miserables
   
3. Rent
   
4. Wicked
   
5. Fiddler on the Roof
   

Cold Morning

Because of the soul-crashing, life-destroying commute from Seattle to the Eastside, I've split my week into early days and late days. On early days, I get up at 6:00, drive across the bridge before traffic, go for a run in Kirkland, and then grab breakfast. The good part of early days is that I leave by 3:00 in the afternoon to beat the worst of the traffic back to Seattle.

This morning was an early morning -- and a damn cold morning. I hadn't scraped frost off my car for a long time, but I did in the still-dark parking lot this morning. As I drove to Kirkland, I heard the calm voice of KUOW tell me that is was 38 degrees out. Now, I'm loving the change of seasons that I missed in California. And as a Minnesota native, I shouldn't blink at above freezing temperatures. The thing is, though, that I never thought about chilly pre-dawn runs when I lived in Minnesota.

I pulled into work wearing my running gear (including warm hat and gloves) and stretched briefly before I realized that I just couldn't go for a run. It was too damn cold and too damn early. Instead of running, I went into the office, took a hot shower, and grabbed a bowl of oatmeal. Perfect.

Now the sun is up and melting the frost for what should be a beautiful fall day. I'll take my run this afternoon back in Seattle. With reasonable temperatures, thank you.

Once at the Crest

One small reason that I'm happy to be back in Seattle is the Crest Cinema. The Crest is a second-run theater in North Seattle that charges my kind of prices ($3) and shows my kind of movies (it is run by Landmark Theatres). Last weekend Jana and I went to the Crest to see Once, an Irish film that I'd wanted to see for months.

Once is set in Dublin and stars Glen Hansard of the seminal Irish band The Frames. In the film he plays a much less famous musician (Guy) who plays guitar on Grafton Street between shifts at his dad's vacuum repair shop. After the opening credits he meets a beautiful pianist (Girl) and they start collaborating. The narrative follows the amazing music that they make together and the more amazing relationship that they develop.

Once has some superbly subtle scenes: When the old vacuum repair man pauses after hearing his son's music and then lets him know its "fuckin' brilliant." When Guy and Girl first play together in the music shop. When Girl walks down the street late at night listening to a demo and singing lyrics as she writes them in her head. The list of great scenes goes on, and most of the songs are equally great. The performances feel honest, especially Hansard's deeply likable Guy. While Once might feel like a small movie, it is a great small movie. Well worth the $3 price of admission.

Small Seattle Stories

A bunch of disconnected little Seattle stories:

A couple weekends ago Jana and I walked to the Seattle Public Library book sale in Magnuson Park. They had a warehouse full of books at ridiculously cheap prices. I could have spent hours there, but we don't have much room for even more books. With due deference to our limited shelf space, we left after about an hour with just one grocery bag of books -- $12 worth of classics, cookbooks, and local guides. So very awesome to be within walking distance of that sale. And we've already made a few recipes out of Fields of Greens.

The head chef and manager of Cafe Flora came to the office last week to talk about the venerable vegetarian restaurant and its cookbook. They had some good stories and made me like the restaurant even more. Plus, I got myself a free copy of the cookbook. Of course that didn't stop me from eating at rival restaurant Carmelita the next night.

Last weekend Jana and I went to the Seattle Public Theater at the Bathhouse to see Halcyon Days. It is a political satire that criticizes the Bush Reagan administration's invasion of Iraq Grenada and maybe even more strongly criticizes the rise of spin and disingenuous rhetoric (lies) as political justification. It ocasscionally felt like the small play that it was, but it was very smart and well-done. Conservatives might have gotten worked up when a character tackled the cardboard Reagan cutout that loomed over some scenes, but I just took it was a cathartic commentary on our past and present government failings. Read the Seattle PI Review.

Last weekend we also hiked to the top of Mt. Si. The mountain is only about 4000 feet at the peak, but it towers over North Bend, the town where Twin Peaks was filmed. We went with some friends and brought our dog Lyra. It was a steep hike, but Lyra did well. We got to the top in time to have a great view of the area. Then the sky opened up and we walked down in the rain. Rain or no rain, it felt great to be surrounded by all those trees and all that green.

I... Heart... Winnipeg

As I was getting ready for Friday night's Weakerthans show, I joked with Jana that they were the third best Canadian band to play in Seattle in the short time since we'd moved back. While I still lament missing the New Pornographers and the Arcade Fire, the Weakerthans might have outdone the rest of the north-of-the-border contingent this weekend.

The show was at Neumos in Capitol Hill, and it started with a burst of energy. By the time they finished their third song, "Over Retired Explorer," I thought that John K. Sampson and company had spent all their energy and best songs. But they were just getting started.

They played non-stop, racing through their catalog with energy and precision. They would pause just long enough between songs to smile at each other and take in the applause. Then they'd start back up, the crowd would jump and cheer when they recognized the first couple chords, and I'd find myself singing along to yet another song. I didn't realize how completely their albums had lodged themselves in my head, but seeing the Weakerthans live was like a joyous session of recovered memory therapy. Such wonderful lyrics.

And I've rarely seen a band having so much fun. The good times just jumped off the stage. They did guitar hero poses, danced awkwardly to their music, and, with a wry smile or a knowing head bob, shared the best moments of their songs with the crowd. In a great moment of showmanship, they dipped and raised their guitars in unison to the start-stop beat. On some songs, they stood at the front of the stage, four guitars across, seeming to say, Yeah we're gonna rock and its gonna be a good time.

I definitely had a good time. As they closed by singing together the horn part to "(Manifest)" I realized something significant had happened. I had gone to see a concert by a good band and left having seen one of my favorite, most literate bands. Not bad for a bunch of Canadians.

The National at the Showbox

On Tuesday night I went to the Showbox to see The National, a band that grew into one of my favorites as the dark songs on Alligator crept into my consciousness during late night listens. Like the many fans they gathered on Alligator, I was happily rewarded when I turned my ears to the even more subtle sounds of Boxer. I was looking forward to a seriously intense concert.

And the National delivered. When they took the stage, I finally sorted out who were brothers (because it is so damn obvious in person) and I got used to the idea that it was gonna be a loud show. The Showbox has bright lights and shiny streamers as a backdrop to the stage. Between that, Beringer not playing an instrument, and the serious volume they put out, it didn't feel like the dark, smoky bar setting that I picture when I hear their music on album. That was okay, though, because the live show wasn't nearly as understated as the albums -- it really rocked.

They stuck mostly to Alligator and Boxer, moving deftly between loud rockers and mellower tunes that were still loud and rocking. All that volume made me particularly appreciative when they slowed down for "Daughters of the Soho Riots," one of my favorite songs. They kept the intensity of the louder songs, but channeled it to the hushed room. If people still held up lighters at shows, they might have during that song. Beringer and company eventually built to a crescendo when they closed with "Mr. November," an explosion of energy and angst, and the best song of the night.

It was a great show for me. It made a couple grower albums grow on me even more. And it gave me a new context for hearing the albums. It's not just for late night drives and writing on a rainy day. The National are some serious rock music.

Upcoming concerts:

Oct 5: The Weakerthans at Neumos
Nov 8: Emma Pollock at the Crocodile

Working in Fremont

I'm working in the Fremont office today. It is across from the The Red Door, down the street from Waiting for the Interurban, along the Ship Canal, and right along the Burke-Gilman trail.

Throw in Sonic Boom Records, the Fremont Troll, the rocket, and Mr. Lenin, and you've got the best possible office location.

Even better, I biked to work on the Burke-Gilman today. The commute is about 5.5 miles from my place, and incredibly scenic: Lake Washington, UW, Gasworks Park, Lake Union, and the Space Needle. It was an awesome ride. Here's the approximate route (roads that follow near the trail).