Hot pants, maternity pants, whatever. Here’s hoping today’s eats help your stretchiest pants realize their full potential.
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!
In a few hours, I’ll hop in my Honda Fit, which is fitted with tires the size of roller skate wheels, and drive north, directly into this winter storm that people have been talking about for days. Basically what Dennis Quaid did in The Day After Tomorrow to rescue Jake Gyllenhaal. Why? Because this is America, and a little I-95 Slip ‘n Slide ain’t gonna stop me from spending Thanksgiving with Mrs. YHT and the merry band of Harrisburgers she calls her extended family.
Brandi… Emmylou… let’s do this.
A quick observation from last night’s show at Balliceaux:
Matuto does lots of things well. They’ve mastered their instruments. They get the crowd going. They know more about the history of the styles they invoke than most bands ever will. They write songs that are challenging and catchy at the same time. These were the factors I knew to look for after having seen them in June.
But something struck me last night that I didn’t pick up on the first time, and it’s not even necessarily something they do. It’s more of an effect they have that’s just as exceptional as the abilities listed above. Call it affective flexibility.