... aaaaand we're back

Okay, so Ani DiFranco is da bomb. The concert in the auditorium at the Service Station started with some neo-beat poetry from feminist poet Judy Grahn, accompanied by Animal Prufrock, who I can only describe as an anarchic lesbian Mojo Nixon. Otis really dug the piece "(You Give Me) An Emotional Boner."

After the opening act, Ani performed for about an hour and a half, accompanied by drums, an upright base, and a vibraphone. She gave a great show, playing her acoustic like a fourteen-year-old boy jumping around his room playing air guitar. She really makes her guitar wail, the twanging strings a perfect match for her vocals, which range from delicate and almost frothy grace notes to earthy, throaty motorcycle engine roars. Ani is perhaps the most articulate singer-songwriter I have encountered; her lyrics are pointed and intelligent, and complex without being obscure. She played some old tunes, and some really new stuff that contained some commentary on current events. between songs, she talked to the audience, interacting with folks and accepting notes and signs from the crowd and working them into the act. She was clearly preaching to her choir - it was very definitely a Difrancophile house - and she worked the energy even higher with her accessibility and authenticity. And did I mention that she rocks the house?

One odd (to me) characteristic of the concert: the auditorium was devoid of chairs. The audience just milled about in a big empty space with a stage at one side, sort of like carpeted school cafeteria. People were sitting down for a while, but when the show started, everyone stood up. There wasn't a lot of dancing, because there wasn't room - we were as close together as a crowd around the ticket counter after a canceled flight. I've never gone to an "Only Standing Room" concert before.

Anyhoo, Otis loved re-connecting with her hero, the Righteous Babe. It was worth the trip.

Especially since the trip included bonus time with Gweekers and Mikey! We got up for the traditional Mikey's-three-thousand-calorie latte this morning, and then headed out into the neighborhood for brekkies. We pointed Renty Red homeward shortly before noon, and ran into only the same sort of snow flurries that we had coming over; the drive was fine. We've been back for a little bit, stretching out cramped muscles and chillaxing; I even got my suit ready for the morning.