Today's Review: Ryan Adams

Last winter, my oldest son Michael put a bunch of Ryan Adams songs on a CD, handed it to me, and said "I think you might like this." I guess he figured -- correctly -- that I like all kinds of music (except 'smooth' jazz, most hip-hop, and most country music recorded in the last decade) so I would probably like Ryan Adams. Somehow, that CD got buried among the drifts and piles of junk that cover my bedside table. I finally unearthed it last week.

Sorry, Michael. It's not that I dislike the songs. Most are perfectly serviceable pop tunes, but nothing grabbed me except "Happy Birthday," which I like very much. The slightly dissonant chord struck on the downbeat of alternate measures is cool. It perfectly reflects how I think the poor guy feels.

If I can figure out how to embed the Grooveshark widget, you will be able to click and listen right here! That is what the Internet is for.

OK. The widget thing isn't working, so here's a link to Grooveshark and the Ryan Adams birthday song. Great tune, kinda odd lyrics.

Today's Review: Twins v Royals

Last night, the Twins were very fortunate to get a win in the tenth inning. They squandered many chances to score and handed the Royals a few extra at-bats. The Twins bullpen, subject of much preseason hand-wringing, performed well. The Twins hitters weren't especially good with runners in scoring position, and the runners weren't especially good at running. Highlights: Cuddyer 4 for 4 plus a walk; Dusty Hughes' spectacular catch of a looping liner; Danny V's single that mercifully ended the game. I was able to enjoy the nice weather at Target Field, which really is an outstanding baseball venue.

This afternoon, the Twins couldn't get anybody out. Getting opposing batters out is one of the things a baseball team is supposed to do. It contributes to winning. Francisco the Enigma Liriano, I'm lookin' at you.

This was a rare two-game series. It is the first series the Twins haven't lost this year.

Today's Review: Avenue Q at the Mixed Blood

If I could use thumbs without infringing on a copyright, I would put one up and one down. Three out of five stars. The sound of one hand clapping. I liked the show, had lots of good laughs. Clever staging. Some cool puppetry. Some outstanding vocal performances. But...

Many critics have used the "Rent meets Sesame Street" line to describe Avenue Q. That works. The Mixed Blood production is very solid (except for a few sound glitches that night and one singer not quite up to par). I got the feeling that I'm supposed to like the show because it deals (after a fashion) with race and sexual preference and celebrity and poverty. But...

It just felt kind of shallow, which is probably not fair because I don't think the show's creators intended anything like Weight or Depth or Significance. It was fun, and I guess fun is just fine.

Favorite character: The Bad Idea Bears, played with great frivolity. Least favorite: The Gary Coleman building superintendent. Did not get the point of that at all.

Today's Review: Ranchero not worth the trip this time

The Ranchero Supper Club is an institution in Webster, MN; by which I mean that it's been there forever. Webster is a very small town on the border between Rice and Scott counties, southwest of the Twin Cities. There isn't much in Webster except the Ranchero. I'd guess you could easily fit half the population of Webster into the Ranchero. People come, as they say, from miles around.

We've been there a few times and enjoyed it. Tried it again last Friday evening. The place celebrates its German heritage* by serving German beers and a few German dishes like schnitzel and kraut. The dining room is decorated with elaborate Bavarian steins.

My advice: stick with the beer. I had the Paulaner Oktoberfest** and it was excellent. The food, however, was ordinary. Dull. Uninspired. And overpriced.

* How did a German restaurant come to be called The Ranchero?
** Oh, and about that beer: The waitress asked if I wanted the full litre or half. I said full. She said litre, but I thought pint. There is a difference, my friends, between a pint and a litre.
Standard bottle o' beer = 12 oz
Pint = 16 oz
Litre = 33.814 oz

So a litre is 2.82 bottles of beer. Now, I do like beer, but it is exceedingly rare for me to consume three bottles in an evening, much less in the course of one meal. I really only wanted a pint. Really.

But, as it turned out, the meal I had was so bad that I viewed the extra beer*** as my just dessert.

*** I wasn't driving.

A Review A Day

Resolutions, for me, are usually not a good idea. But I'm making one anyway: Publish at least one review every day.

The subject might be beer, movies, food, books, a Twins game or Twins player or Twins front office move or Twins field manager move, a web site, or another person's review of any of these things. I need the writing practice and feel like expressing opinions. Ready or not.

(Note: Guy in photo is not me, just one inspiration.)

Readers' Guide

Why some things appear on this blog --

Milburn Wagon Works: My paternal grandmother was a Milburn and her uncle founded the Milburn Wagon Works in Mishawaka, IN (later moved to Toledo, OH). The company produced an electric car -- the Milburn Light Electric -- that cost $1,685.00 in 1917.

Brautigania: I enjoy Brautigan's writing. But then, I enjoy so many other things -- Seinfeld re-runs, Coen brothers movies, beer, baseball, sleep -- how come Brautigan is more prominent on this blog than all those other things? Well, hell, I don't know. Stop bugging me about it.

Posnanski: Been following his blog from the beginning. I was worried that, once he started writing for Sports Illustrated, his prose would suffer -- like Totino's Pizza became so boring after the brand that started life in a tiny Nordeast joint was bought by Pillsbury. But Posnanski's blog is still amazing and still free.

Poetry: It's like food. Here's one from Bill Holm's collection "The Chain Letter of the Soul."

The Decline of the Colorado

At Yuma, a retired accountant with prostate trouble
could piss across the Colorado.
"Used to be in the canyon business,"
the river whispers, squishing
along between cottonwoods,
"before I moved to California
to grow organic lettuce."

What does a man say to a river
that couldn't flood a ballpark after
a hundred thunderstorms?
Old geezer, it doesn't help --
my weeping for you.

Second Wind

My dad used to have this saying about a bad penny (no, not the Tigers pitcher). Like that penny, I have turned up again on this blog. The reason: Time. With retirement imminent, I will have more of it to devote to this nonchalance, this trifle.

Spring is a time of renewal (except, so far, for the Twins offense), so come along as we explore the mundane, the prosaic, the weird. And maybe the rest of the equatorial countries! How grand.