Breaking the Long, Adventure-Induced Silence

I haven’t posted recently. I’ve gotten a new (more demanding) job and additional (more demanding) work from the publisher for which I write reviews. Stuff’s taking off, but I have needed to focus somewhat. I know how very disappointed you are. I, too, am disappointed. I was going to tell you all about the mystical significance of my glorious back tattoo. I’ll still do that, but just…later. Promise. It’s a big conversation.

Meanwhile, go look at The Wilmington Bookshelf because it’s awesome. It’s part of my new job. You heard right, folks: my new job includes writing! Plum, am I right?

OK, quick story. Promise. Then you can get back to watching Hey, Arnold! reruns on Cartoon Network. Tonight, my lovely lady and I found ourselves unexpectedly with nothing to do (feel better, MM!) and decided to go to a keytar/ukelele solo performer/multiple personalities $4 “comedy” night at Johnny D’s. Fun fact: the pulled pork sliders, billed as “starters,” cost $10 for four and are more than hefty enough to be a meal for two. Anyway, at Johnny D’s, we were subjected to the following mixed bag of entertainment, pain, nostalgia, and plain old feel-good fun:

  • Springsteen rendered on a ukelele by a man with a higher voice than I have, accompanied by the recording of the same man speaking as though he were a stereotypical heavyset black drummer who sometimes pretended to be Julia Child.
  • A very small woman singing songs about her anxiety that were just too, too true, and possibly also not meant to be funny. I laughed, I cried, I was grateful for my medication. Sample verse: “I used to cry sometimes/ when I was alone/Now I still cry sometimes/when I am alone.” Entire chorus: “I’m doing better all the time! I’m doing better all the time!”
  • A man with a keytar and a saxophone who pretended to be four guys – one British, one New Yorker, one apparently insane, one actually himself – and they all had variations on an Irish accent (except him). He seemed to have some trouble keeping them straight, which was very entertaining. They sang songs about the birds and the bees. Literally – one song about an annoying bird who rocks the same six-note tune all the time and one about colony collapse disorder.
  • And, finally, the star of the night, an obviously talented keytar player who performed in a bear costume. Not bear ears, not bear shoes, but indeed a costume that concealed his natural figure from head to toe, leaving him looking much like a giant version of Ted from the movie, complete with big eyebrows, though these were not expressive, this bear said nothing, and Ted from the movie couldn’t play the keytar, I don’t think. I don’t actually know. I never finished that film because I got bored. Anyway, the most impressive aspect of Keytar Bear’s performance was that he wore the bear costume’s giant mittens too. Note to the public: mittens reduce your capacity to move your fingers, rending you ineffectual and mewling pathetically as you mess up everything, mostly things like money and valuables that slip through your muffled fingers and into storm drains whence they are washed away forever like your faint memories of the sweet old grandmother who gave them to you, but especially like a keytar keyboard. So, what I’m saying is, RESPECT IT. Also, don’t handle valuables while wearing mittens unless you’re Keytar Bear.

So if you’re in Boston and feeling the love for some anthropomorphic electronica jazz jammin’, check out Keytar Bear.


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