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.
“Give credit where credit is due.”
It’s the kind of idiomatic expression that any non-sociopath can cosign without thinking too hard about it. Like “Treat others the way you’d like to be treated,” or “Let’s order a pizza when we get back from the bar.” But GCWCID’s promise often goes unfulfilled, and there doesn’t even have to be a good reason why. No villain, no deliberate deception or cover-up. Sometimes credit is hiding in plain sight. Or in a Lynyrd Skynyrd song everyone in the country has heard between five and 500 times:
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they’ve been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I’m feeling blue
Now how about you?
“The Swampers” is another name for the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section, a handful of session musicians who provided the backbone for a string of huge hits in the 60’s and 70’s. Whether you’ve heard of the Swampers or not, Muscle Shoals, the new documentary about their work, the town they hail from and the producer/studio owner who gave them an opportunity to record with some of music’s most legendary artists, is an absolute must-see.