Elbow: The Take Off And Landing Of Everything (review)

DISCLAIMER: Everything that follows this sentence could, potentially, be utter bollocks. Proceed with due care.

This is one of those albums where you recognize that a band has well and truly turned a new corner. Though there are some sonic callbacks to earlier works, there is much more on this effort that signifies a real shift - lyrically, musically and thematically - from past albums.

In part, this seems due to the new approach used by the band while putting the album together. For the first time, instead of writing all the music together as a group, they've scattered the songwriting around a bit. Some tracks have been put together by a smaller subset of the band, while others were more or less the product of one member's individual work. That certainly accounts for a lot of the differing styles we hear as the album progresses.

To my mind, though, the thing that's most new about this album is the perspective it seems to be coming from. Mainly this is apparent in the lyrics and themes, all courtesy of Guy Garvey. I was actually pretty surprised at the approach and ideas in many of these songs. Die-hard fans know that the relationship between Guy and his former partner, Emma Unsworth,  came to an end between the last album and this one. Considering the fact that the love between them had inspired the joyous, gorgeous heart of songs like Starlings, Mirrorball and One Day Like This, it seemed fair to assume that their breakup would lead to an album full of some seriously dark, melancholic overtones.

And yet, what we have here is not the same Guy Garvey we've seen after breakups past. Instead of indulging himself in regret, bitterness or self-pity, he seems thoroughly healthy and happy. In fact, there are more sentiments here that address the woes and worries of others than there are expressing his own. As ridiculous as this sounds, I clocked his persona this time around as some weird cross between Spiderman and Oprah - constantly watching over the city for signs of distress, then swooping in with support and comfort for those who need it. Just busted up with your boyfriend? Don't worry, sister, it'll pass, and we're all here for you until it does. Feeling ignored by the lippy kids down the pub? I hear you, brother - have some G&T and sympathy. He is even offering encouragement to his ex, to go forth and be happy herself. Grace under pressure? You're looking at it, folks.

My take is that there's an openness about this album. Emotionally, Guy's not hiding too much in his own head. And geographically, there's a greater focus on places beyond Manchester. While the band's hometown has always been a cozy place to dwell, it's a bit refreshing to see the gaze stretch a bit further...to New York, to the open ocean where many try to find passage to better lives, and even to the farthest reaches of the universe itself.

The universe is the starting point for album #6, as This Blue World posits that the earth and "her countless sisters" may well have been created simply to act as a backdrop to the romance between two people. Here we have one of the references to his breakup, but it is steeped in the idea that the bonds remain warm and strong though they've both moved on. I found the music to be just the right match for the lyrics. The gentle touch of the band emphasizes the sweeter side of the bittersweet lyrics. It is a lovely starting point for the album, in my opinion.

Charge then navigates us down from the heavens and straight into a seat at the bar, where a drunken rant is in mid-flow. The drunk in question, someone who has more than a few years on him and knows it, is a figure that Guy both empathizes and identifies with.  Just as in past classics like Springsteen's Glory Days, LCD Soundsystem's Losing My Edge, and approximately 497 songs by Loudon Wainwright III, the protagonist wants these damn kids to recognize, give some props, and get the fuck off his lawn. It's got a great, spitting mad energy to it, but at its heart it's more a plea for company more than anything else. It's always sad when these kids today don't realize how cool all us old folks actually are (or were...whatever...), but the toughest part is feeling like nobody has time for you. We get more invisible as we age, and the sentiments in this song reflect that phenomenon from the eyes of one of the newly invisible. Good stuff all round.

Fly Boy Blue/Lunette really needs to be taken apart into the two distinct songs that were combined here. They do flow together awfully well, but they each exist in their own unique space. Fly Boy Blue is a really well done piece. I like the way the vocals were manipulated, adding a sense of modern life on overload as Guy describes the everyday chaos around him - air traffic, politicians, pressures and problems. And those horns! You've gotta love those horns!

Lunette then segues into a more pensive zone. More discussions of age and the finite nature of life, as Guy reels off his justifications for all the cigarettes and boozing over the years. The "excellent company" is a good enough tradeoff for whatever wear and tear he's done to his lungs and liver, so it would seem. Not to mention the old trope of many an artist before him - if I didn't smoke/drink, could I still write? Could I even remember to breathe? Lovely poetry here, though it must be said that I always roll my eyes a little when I hear people romanticizing the fags and booze in songs like this. But all is forgiven after the last passage, explaining how the greatest comfort - beyond the drinks and the nicotine - is "the gentle lunette at the top of the nape of the neck" of a lover. A gorgeous little ending, wistful, but sweet and heartfelt.

New York Morning does pretty much what it says on the tin, taking us on a journey through the infrastructure and the noise and the spirit of the most famous city on earth. I love this one, both for the easy, soaring quality of the music and for the wonderful descriptions of how "every bone of rivet steel" plays a role in the huge, quasi-mythical land that is New York City.  This song also touches on the idea of America as a melting pot, and in Manhattan that really is true. But America is made up of 50 states, and many of them aren't as well-balanced as New York is. That theme of immigration and finding a new life in another country is one that is touched on later on in the album.

Real Life (Angel) is one of those Oprah moments, with Guy counseling a female friend who's working through the aftermath of a breakup. The music is just as comforting as the lyrics. There's a steady, warm quality to it, especially toward the end where the mantra-like refrain of "angel" is repeated behind Guy's vows that music and the support of loved ones will see her through her heartache in time.  This is one of the songs I've found myself warming to rather quickly. It's hard not to sing along with it, and it's another case of music and words matching up exceptionally well.

Honey Sun is real highlight on this album. The music is ominous, signaling darkness and change. It's a tale of escaping - or trying to escape - the mess left behind after a relationship ends. I love the imagery on this one. Guy says that "danger lies behind the tape across my door", giving the impression that a home once shared by lovers has now become a crime scene, a place bearing remnants of pain and one that's best avoided. The idea of taking off to somewhere far away, like a bullet from a gun, is also a great image. It's one of the shorter songs on the album, but it covers a lot of emotional ground and paints some very vivid pictures in that time.

My Sad Captains is another of those tracks that could only be an Elbow song. Nobody else does this sort of thing better, and Elbow themselves have rarely done it better than they do here. I got a little whiff of Blur's Tender at the start, though it was fairly subtle. Everything else is strictly, unmistakably Elbow, from the elegiac horns to the grand nostalgia of the lyrics. I'll admit, as a 46-year-old woman who has seen a kid through to teenager-dom and still feels pretty good about life, it's amusing to me to hear a song about how quickly time is passing and how the glories of youth are fading...from someone who's about to turn 40. But I do get it. Although I may not go busting out the world's tiniest violin to serenade them as they weep for the all-night drinking sessions that are no more, there's an overwhelming charm to these celebrations of long-standing friendship. Just as with Weather To Fly, the idea of loyalties and brotherly love standing the test of time is a heartwarming thing, and it's just as beautifully expressed here as it was before. Musically, it's a shimmering, lovely number, and Guy's in fine voice. Certainly one of the most enjoyable moments in this set.

Colour Fields is one that I've had a hard time getting a handle on. The lyrics are fairly abstract, and except for a few lines which bring things into focus somewhat, it would be tough to explain what the song's about. After seeing a track-by-track commentary that was part of the media kit for the album, I found that this was about someone Guy knew who had been bullied at school. I suspect the song was written more as a communication to that person than to us, and for that reason I haven't found much of a place to hang my emotional hat yet. I appreciate the Oprah/Spiderman effort, once again reaching out to someone who's been hurt and trying to offer something positive. But honestly, for me this is the track I've made the least connection with so far. Musically I found it an interesting piece, pretty minimalist and repetitive, but with a warmth and some melodic flourishes that transcended the overall simplicity.

Now I have to name the one, niggling misstep that has bugged me more with every listen. The title track just shouldn't be here, in my opinion. I really would have preferred to see it coming last, for reasons which I'll expand on in a bit. But the track itself is quite extraordinary. The Take Off And Landing Of Everything is the real root of what this album is about - life's transitions, victories and losses, time marching on and beginnings turning into endings turning into beginnings. The use of the phrase "the time-worn shimmer of a tarantella on a Tuscan plain" gave me a happy little smile, as an Italian-American. The tarantella is in my blood, and I was interested to see if this was a phrase used for the sound of it or if there was anything more there. As a basic reference point, tarantella is the name given to a specific sort of music and dance that has survived over centuries, and is part of well-known Italian tradition. These days, it's a dance you do at weddings (my husband and I did it at mine, and it wasn't pretty. Ever seen a rhythm-impaired Scotsman in a kilt trying to dance like an Italian? If not, consider yourself lucky). But the roots of tarantella come from certain regions in the south of Italy, where the venomous bite of a wolf spider (hence the connection to a tarantula) supposedly induced a dancing frenzy in its victims.  There was an almost trance-like quality to both the music and the dancing, and it was supposed to signify a state of consciousness that was outside of the regular boundaries of the mind and spirit.

So, I do have reason to wonder if that idea was in the back of Guy's mind when he used it in these lyrics. The song itself uses a drone-like foundation, with a healthy heaping of psych-rock sound blanketed all over it. There are elements of many other bands to be found here, but the one I picked up on most was Yo La Tengo, who have a way of creating musical art out of discord. The song is another testament to the healthy way Guy's relationship ended, as it acknowledges both the blisses of the love they shared, as well as his sincere hope that she'll go forward and conquer the world. The idea that some things end, but life goes on, is well-served by the magnificent, spiraling ending. With music and voices blending and repeating in a Technicolor circle, we get the feeling of life spinning on, eternal, all over this blue world and beyond, providing us with a thematic link to the opening track and its infinite point of view.  And that right there is why the title track should have been the last. How perfect that little "circle of life" would have seemed.

Instead, we end with Blanket of Night. I'm a big fan of this song, so don't get me wrong. But it is so, so out of place, in my opinion. It's something that connects thematically with New York Morning - at least, that's how I perceive it. That may not have been the band's intention, but to me, it shows the flip side of life in the Western world, where things aren't always so ideal for those who come from other places to find freedom or stability. You're invited to share the fears and prayers of an immigrant on the sea, as he and his love journey toward what they hope will be a better life. In New York Morning, we heard about the welcoming, inclusive nature of a place "where folk are nice to Yoko". But in reality, many nations, including Britain and the US, are experiencing a huge backlash against immigration.

Here in Florida, I have seen that first-hand quite often lately. Just a few weeks ago, there was a hunt on for some immigrants who'd been seen coming ashore in Palm Beach County, about 10 minutes or so from my own home. There is not a lot of interest in absorbing more immigrants in this state right now, and much of America is in the same frame of mind. It is a delicate issue fraught with legitimate political, environmental, economic and cultural concerns. But Guy Garvey has been disturbed by the rise of anti-immigrant sentiment in his homeland, and I can't help but recognize the same thing here where I live. for that reason, this song resonates with me a great deal, lyrically.

Musically, I think it was brilliantly done. The acoustic version that has been online for a while now is gorgeous. But it is this studio version which speaks more to me. The seasick instrumentation, juxtaposed against the occasional moments of silence, bring to mind the swelling waves of the ocean, and the way one's heart can simply skip a beat in fear. It does convey the nightmarish sensation that the song's protagonist must feel. I think it is a great comment of the topic of immigration, but again, I just don't think it was the ideal way to end the album. It sticks out like a sore thumb in that position, for me personally, and if the title track had been last instead, spinning the listener off into the infinite loop of life, I think it would have been a lot more satisfying.

Jesus Horatio Christ, that was a lot of words! And again, most of them are likely bollocks when all's said and done. But that's what I've been carrying around in my brain over the past week spent with this album, and it felt good to let it out somewhere.

TL:DR version - I am very happy with this effort. It's an 8.5 out of 10, I'd say. The band have not let me down. I am looking forward to seeing how the new stuff plays live, and in the meantime I'll be enjoying this often on my headphones. Top notch effort, not too much of a left-turn from where they've been, but still a bit of a new direction in several ways. They're growing and changing, but in their own way and at their own pace, and I think that approach is serving them very well so far. Good on 'em, and long may they run.

Elbow: The Take Off And Landing Of Everything (review)

Elbow Week: a travelogue

The days were shaping up frosty and bright/Perfect weather to fly

Bright sunshine, clear blue skies, fresh and cool, but not too cold.

I found myself thinking that they must’ve flown me into the wrong city. This couldn’t possibly be Manchester.

I wandered out of the baggage claim area and started making my way to the train station, located there in Manchester International Airport. As I did, I was trying to wrap my head around the gorgeousness of the day. Never, in all my trips to the UK over the years, had I ever seen such marvelous weather as I was seeing that Tuesday morning. It was actually better than the weather I’d left behind at home in Florida.

As it happens, this was to be only the first of many surprises I’d experience on my journey.

You patched me up and sent me on my way

I was in the UK to see my favorite band, Elbow. Never a household name in the US, they’d only played in mid-sized venues when they toured the States. I’ve always thought of them as much, much bigger than the places I’d seen them play, and I’d always wished I could see them in a setting that held the thousands of adoring fans they deserved. This trip, an incredible Christmas gift from my husband, would make that dream a reality, as I was set to attend their hometown gig at the MEN Arena in Manchester.

It’s been a weird experience, being such a big fan of theirs in America. I know I’m not the only one, but it sure feels like it. In Florida, it’s all about dance music, rap, redneck rock or country. Mention Elbow’s name, even among people who are a bit more “in the know” about current music, and you’d inevitably get a blank stare. It‘s really frustrating, because I genuinely think they’re some of the most talented musicians I’ve ever heard. I listen to lots of music, and have a lot of artists I love, but Elbow have a particular place in my heart which nobody else can touch.

I was thinking about why this is as I collected the tickets for my train journey from Manchester to Wales, a trip that was added on to my original plans after a fellow Elbow fan invited me to join her for the band’s Cardiff gig. I’d decided to take her up on her invitation, though it would require me to fly over a couple of days earlier and take two trains for three hours to get to her, just after having spent the better part of 24 hours at airports and in planes. I was already fairly wiped out, and I wasn’t sure how I’d feel upon arrival in Newport, but I kept thinking about how I’d be able to see Elbow twice in three days, and that was the motivation I needed to suck it up and keep moving. Especially since the chance to see Elbow live in my part of the US is not terribly common, and I’d been a fan for seven long years – SEVEN YEARS! – before I’d seen them in concert for the first time. This was absolutely a golden opportunity for a big-time fangirl like me, and I wasn’t about to let any trivial little issues like jet lag and total physical exhaustion get in my way.

Still, as I sank into my seat on the first train of the day, I did question myself a bit. I’m 43 years old, and I’m leaving my husband and daughter behind, traveling thousands of miles from home and lugging suitcases on and off of planes and trains, in places I’ve never been, all alone…so I can go to a couple of concerts? Really? I mean, what is wrong with me, anyway? How can a couple of gigs be worth all that?

As soon as I arrived in Wales, I was met by my friend, who grabbed my big suitcase, whisked me into her car and got me to her house in what seemed like a minute flat. I was introduced to her son and daughter, who were both very friendly and welcoming. And I was made at home right away, which was such sweet relief after the traveling I’d done. One of our first orders of business was to talk about Elbow, of course, and that was when some of the questions I’d been asking myself on the train began to answer themselves. As we talked, I was reminded that it wasn’t just the two concerts I was here for. I was also doing all this crazy traveling to meet my fellow diehard Elbow fans, since they were harder to find on my side of the pond.

My friend is as barking mad about Elbow as I am. She’d found them somewhat later than I had, but you’d never know it from her knowledge of and love for their music. As she told me about how excited she was for the next night’s show in Cardiff, I began to feel this sudden, overpowering sense of empathy. This was the very first human being I’d come face to face with in my ten years – TEN YEARS! – of being an Elbow fan who was 100% on the same page as I was. She understood why their songs were so exceptional, and why they made people feel the way they do when they hear them. She actually got it!

When I started talking about Elbow’s music with my friend, it was as if the clouds of self-doubt in my musical skies suddenly parted. I wasn’t nuts, after all! She really, truly had that same love for that same band, and when I went all gaga about certain songs, it made perfect sense to her. And, to top it all off, her kids were in the process of discovering and falling in love with Elbow as well, and would be joining us for the show. It just made me so ridiculously and stupidly happy.

The show was a wonderful event. We were first in line to get in to the arena, and as soon as the doors opened, we claimed excellent spots right up front. Once the show began, I found myself savoring certain songs and certain moments for what seemed an eternity; there were points where time just seemed to stop, somehow. Oddly enough, though, it was all over so quickly. By the end of the night, we’d nabbed a couple of set lists, a couple of ginormous posters that had been hanging in the arena windows, a handshake from Guy Garvey and a few great pictures to remind us of the whole thing.

It was remarkable how much better this concert had been for me than the other two I’d been to in the States. Not that Elbow hadn’t performed as well on the previous tour, by any means. And I’d even managed to get set lists and Garvey handshakes before, as well. But to be in an arena full of fans who were enthusiastic and having fun, the same way I was, really made a world of difference. I was just delighted, but as great as it was, that night was just a warm-up for what was still to come.

The following afternoon, after two days in Wales, one amazing gig, field trips to see both ancient Roman ruins and the local Sainsbury’s (“Oh my God…cheese and onion crisps. Oh my God…ready-made Indian meals! OH MY GOD…RIBENA!”), some delicious cheeses, wine and home-cooked meals, and much kindness and care, I was revitalized and glowing as I set out on the train back into Manchester.

I need to be in the town where they know what I’m like and don’t mind

My first afternoon walking around the city of Manchester was quite something. Almost immediately, I spotted a wall papered with posters and handbills for albums and concerts, and there was the poster advertising the new Elbow album, build a rocket boys!

By this point, my anticipation for the show at the MEN was reaching critical mass. I had been so blown away by the experience of seeing Elbow play in Cardiff, but I knew that attending the show in Manchester, with even more of the folks I knew from the fan forum, would likely be enough to make my head explode.

On the day of the gig, I was picked up several hours before showtime by two more of my online Elbow pals, a husband and wife from Oop North who I’d been in touch with for a while. Meeting them in “real life” was a joy, and they were every bit as cool and fun to be around as I’d expected them to be – more so, if anything. They handed me an envelope containing a printout they’d made for me of an Elbow walking tour, since they knew I’d have some time to myself to explore Manchester before I went home. Just looking at the names and pictures of some of the Elbow landmarks I knew about – Bridgewater Hall, where they’d performed an amazing show with Manchester’s Hallé Orchestra and Youth Choir; the Koffee Pot diner, where the Elboys had occasionally been caught having a munch – made me smile, and marvel once again at how cool it was to be in the band’s hometown. And, as I had done while staying at the home of my friend in Wales, I also marveled at the thoughtful ways of these two people who’d never met me before, yet were going out of their way to show me a really wonderful time.

We got to the arena to queue up for the show, and were met there by my friend from Wales and a few other forum members, one of whom had kindly brought along an incredible gift for me, and all of whom were fantastically friendly and enthusiastic. In fact, their enthusiasm was like nothing I’d ever seen in my many years of gig-going. Discussions began as the group mapped out their plans for what they’d do when the doors opened; there was debate over the merits of standing down at the end of the catwalk versus being “Potterside”, and thoughts were exchanged on precisely where one ought to stand along the barrier for maximum coverage – the corner, somewhere along the side edge, or more toward the front of the stage? These people had actual strategies going on, and they were not fucking about. I knew I was now in the big leagues of hardcore Elbow fandom, no mistake about it.

The doors opened after a wait that seemed like it would go on forever, and we made our way in to stake out our turf. After finding a spot to stand in, I looked around and let the enormity of the place sink in.

It hit me that there would soon be thousands of people around me, all there for the same band I was there for. After seeing Elbow in venues that were a fraction of the size of the MEN (the biggest place where I’d seen them in the States had a capacity of about 1,200), this was just surreal in every way.

Eventually the arena filled up, and I looked around again. My brain was reeling from the view – a sea of people there to see my favorite band, just the way I’d always thought it should be.

By the time the band hit the stage, I was on excitement overload, simply because I was buzzing off the vibe of the crowd. And as soon as the music kicked in, I was completely over the moon.

Opening number The Birds, from the new album, was a mighty beast, simply stunning to hear in that environment. A mix of songs from the two most recent LPs continued the string of direct hits, and provided both driving, upbeat energy (The Bones of You, Neat Little Rows, With Love) and gorgeous, gentle reflection (Lippy Kids, Mirrorball).

Then came the emotional one-two punch that would knock me out flat. First was a new song, The Night Will Always Win. I had already fallen in love with this one after hearing it on the album. Hearing it live, as the band gathered center stage to play together on a bank of keyboards while Guy Garvey sang the plaintive lyrics so beautifully, was nothing short of magical. It is a song about missing someone, and doing so at the worst possible time (in the darkness of the night) and in the worst possible way (alone). Upon hearing the recorded version of this song for the first time, I had immediately been reminded of the many people in my life who I’ve lost. And while the song was being played there on the stage before me, those thousands of other fans all disappeared, and I was there with the band, and my long-gone friends and loved ones, whose presence was as real and comforting as a warm embrace. It was as close as I’ve ever come to feeling the way you’re supposed to feel in church, if that makes any sense at all coming from a hell-bound lapsed Catholic like me.

Following this was my favorite Elbow song of all time, Great Expectations. Truth be told, this is one of my favorite songs by any artist ever, and I think it pretty much represents the peak of Elbow’s songwriting efforts up to now. It has a gorgeous melody, a perfectly balanced musical arrangement, and a marvelous, moving narrative, with some of the most evocative imagery I’ve found yet in recent popular music. It’s like poetry and cinema and pure, raw emotion all rolled up in one transcendent package, and it has never failed to make me glow from the inside out when I’ve heard it live. And I had been fortunate enough to hear it live before, both in the States and in Cardiff.

But on this night, in this atmosphere, with the energy and enthusiasm of the crowd around me, I felt the impact of this song on a gut level that I had never experienced before. It was simply overwhelming to realize where I was, who I was with, and how I’d gotten there, and before I knew it, tears began rolling down my face. It was like nothing I’d ever felt at a concert in my life, and it was only enhanced by the fact that the two ladies standing on either side of me knew just what I was feeling. They both reached for my hands and put their arms around my shoulders, and it was confirmation for me that, even in this huge and unfamiliar arena, I was really sort of home. Seeing Elbow play was no longer a solitary experience, or one which made me feel a bit like an alien, on a completely different musical planet from my friends in Florida. Here, I was among family in a way, though these were people I’d only just met. Here, they knew what I’m like, and they didn’t mind at all.

It would’ve been impossible to reach another emotional high like the one I’d had during those two songs, but that doesn’t mean the show was all downhill from there. On the contrary, the way I’d felt had really kicked my happy glands into high gear, and the rest of the set was one big wave of joy. By the time we finished off the night with an arena-wide sing-along of One Day Like This, I was just a heaping helping of bliss on legs. My face ached from smiling as the lights came up, and I truly felt that watching this show was the most fun I’d ever had in my life.

And then…somehow…it got even more fun than that.

And we’ve love enough to light the street/’Cause everybody’s here

For most people, and certainly for me on every other concert-going occasion I’ve had in my life, the end of the gig is the end of the musical experience for the night. You might go out for a nightcap or three with friends, but the band you’d enjoyed is off to the after-party, where only a select group of lucky admirers will see them again. This is a world I’d never had access to, nor had I ever expected to.

However, through the confluence of several ridiculously fortunate circumstances, I found myself in possession of a wristband which was the musical equivalent of a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s factory. It enabled me to head to a fabulously unassuming little pub/club called Big Hands, where an after-party would be happening, and where the members of Elbow might, very possibly, appear at some point in the night.

Along with several of my forumster friends, I arrived at Big Hands sometime in the neighborhood of midnight. Unlike the old fairy tale, however, the stroke of 12 was the beginning of my Cinderella night, instead of the end of it.

The first round of drinks was procured, though I had no real interest in boozing it up that night. I was just soaking it all in – the eclectic mix of music blaring from the speakers, the amusing little clusters of hipsters dotting the floor of the club, and the fantastically buoyant vibe of the folks seated at the table with me. An attempt was made to snap some photos, but between the low light and my level of near-total emotional freakitude, I didn’t manage to capture very much.

We all talked and laughed, sharing our thoughts on the gig and on the band. As some time passed, and we found ourselves deeper into the morning hours, we wondered if we would be luckless with our hopes of seeing the Elboys. As this was their hometown, all had friends and family to see, and the following day was a day off for them, it was entirely possible that they’d decide to skip over this particular gathering and do their own thing. To be honest, it didn’t bother me much – though I was intrigued by the possibility of having a Close Encounter of the Elbow Kind, I had come for the music and for the chance to meet my online friends, and I’d enjoyed all of that in spectacular fashion already. I could have genuinely walked away from Big Hands without anything more and been totally satisfied.

Suddenly, a small but palpable ripple of excitement went through the room, and some of the forumsters went on a recon mission to see what had caused the buzz. Upon their return to the table, we were informed that there were, in fact, Elboys in the house. Within a short stretch of time, Guy Garvey, Richard Jupp and Craig Potter were all present and accounted for.

At this point, another round of strategical discussion commenced; what, if anything, should we do now? My friends, bless them, were quite determined that I should see the band somehow, and a scheme was hatched. Guy Garvey was outside having a smoke, and so it only made sense for us to go outside and have a smoke, too. Problem being, we don’t actually smoke. Not a problem for the forumsters, however, as tobacco and rolling papers quickly materialized, and roll-ups were constructed with varying degrees of proficiency.

Shabby cigs in hand, out we trooped to the front of the club. Shivering in the night air, we all stood about, acting cool (sort of) and looking over at The Garve while not actually looking over at him. He was mobbed by packs of people, which was no big surprise, and my heart just went out to the man. I thought how it must suck to be him every so often, and particularly at moments like that, when he may just want to wind down and he finds himself being swarmed. I mean, I wasn’t in his head and he may have been thoroughly enjoying himself, but I think it’d be incredibly tough to feel like you’re the center of everyone’s attention all the fucking time. And he’s blessed/cursed with having an incredibly charismatic personality, and a reputation as a really large-hearted chap, so I know why people are drawn to him, and why they expect to get something in return for their efforts – a picture, an autograph, a little conversation. At moments like those, I really don’t see “GUY GARVEY, SUPERSTAR MUSICIAN” in front of me. Once he’s off stage, he’s a dude like any other dude, and I just didn’t feel good about hassling a dude who’s just finished what is, for him, a long and exhausting stint at work.

So we didn’t go and speak to him after all, but soon we had new matters to focus on as our ranks were infiltrated by a fellow named Paul. Paul was some random putz who was also smoking and gave one of the ladies a light when her cig went out (remember, non-smokers! No lighters or matches on hand! Whoopsy!). He then proceeded to favor us with his drunken attentions for ten minutes or so, which amused me no end. First, he leered at my friend’s chest for a bit, and asked if we were all married and if our men were there in the club. Shortly thereafter, he listed some of the celebrities he found particularly lust-worthy – and they were all male celebrities, I might add. So poor old Paul was so off his tits that he didn’t even know which direction he and his trousers were going, and he seemed intent on being particularly lewd, crude and obnoxious to get a rise out of us. Unfortunately for him, I’m from America, I probably have a fouler mouth than he could ever dream of having, and I’m virtually unshockable. But he was funny as hell, it must be said, though that may not have been his precise intention.

Despite his unique comedic stylings, Paul began to annoy the crap out of one of the ladies, and I could sense the possibility of physical violence being unleashed in his general direction, so a move had to be made indoors. With no real plan to impose ourselves on Mr. Garvey, we snaked back through the crowd toward the front door of the club. And as we walked inside, what to our wondering eyes should appear, but Craig Potter himself, positioned at the end of the bar.

Now, let’s get this all out on the table right here and now: I am all about The Craig. I’ve always loved the way he played the keys, from the very first album on. There are so many Elbow songs (some of my all-time favorites, in fact, including Scattered Black and Whites, Newborn, and of course Great Expectations) which owe a lot of their appeal to his playing. I simply couldn’t imagine the way they’d sound without him. He shows a real instinct for how and when to play, and when to hold back, and what he does always adds the right sound and feel to the songs without taking away from anything else the rest of the band are doing. He’s just got an incredibly distinctive and expressive way of playing, and for me personally, his contributions often take the music to another level. My admiration for his talents only increased after he took on the production and mixing duties on The Seldom Seen Kid. The sound on that album blew me away, and I thought he’d done a really masterful job with it. I know Guy’s the focal point of the band for most people, and I do get that. He’s the writer of the lyrics, he’s the voice, and he’s got personality enough for the whole band all by himself. But, still…for me, there’s just something about Craig and what he adds to the mix. I love each and every one of the Elboys as musicians, but seriously, y’all. You just gotta give it up for The Craig!

So, here I was, mere inches away from Craig Friggin' Potter (as I respectfully and reverently refer to him), and I was not really sure how to handle this situation. Just as I’d felt about Guy Garvey, I was happy enough to have heard him play that night, and he didn’t owe me anything more than the performance I’d already been to see. At this point, he was just a regular dude who was sorely in need of some drinking time for himself. Luckily for me, one of my friends dove right in and said hello to him. She then introduced me, and he gave me the warmest hug and a kiss on the cheek. Craig Friggin' Potter! His gracious behavior put me at ease straight away, despite my initial feelings of awkwardness. He was good enough to ask how I’d been enjoying my trip, as he knew I was over from Florida, and to ask what I’d thought of the shows I’d seen in Cardiff and at the MEN.

And, as it turned out, he recalled a sign I’d held up for him at a gig in Atlanta a couple of years previously. I am not normally the kind of person who will draw attention to myself at a gig – no signs, no shouting at the band, no self-indulgent shenanigans of any kind – because it’s not about me when I see a band, it’s about the music. I can't imagine that I'd enjoy myself any better if I wrangled a fleeting moment of attention from either the artist or the others in the crowd. But on that one occasion, I had held up a sign for Craig, because it was a rare treat to see him live and he’s so fucking awesome, and the fact that he remembered that at all just floored me.

Although I wasn't used to the whole "pestering famous people" thing, I had to admit I was really thrilled to have had a moment to say hi to this particular dude. I will be listening to Elbow songs for as long as my ears work, and his playing will always be one of those things I notice and appreciate most whenever I do, so having the opportunity to pay my respects in person like that was pretty cool. A picture was duly snapped by my friend to commemorate the moment, and then we headed back to our table to let Craig get on with his night.

(A small postscript to this episode: Since I’ve been home, I’ve been showing the picture to anyone who’s been foolish enough to ask how my trip was. And so far, every female I’ve shown it to – no lie, every single one – has said something to the effect of, “Oh, I can see why he’s your favorite. He’s so cute!” And I always explain that liking “cute” guys is for Justin Bieber fans, and I’m not that shallow, thankyewverymuch, and he's my favorite because he’s a freakin’ awesome musician, actually. But then I looked at the picture a few more times, and it hit me…damn! He really is cute, isn’t he? He looked a helluva lot better at that point in the evening than I did, that’s for sure; I’m not used to being out all night, and the bags under my eyes were big enough to pack my clothes in for the trip back home.)

After this certifiable Moment of Awesome, I was beyond happy. I really was on Cloud 9 from the events of the night, and I was totally content and grateful for all I’d been lucky enough to experience. We were there a bit longer, during which time some of the members of our little tribe managed to socialize with the group that had opened for Elbow that night, Villagers (they turned out to be quite a good band), and enjoy a few more drinks and a few more Elbow-interaction moments. But eventually, even we hardcore fans had to wind it down. So, at an absolutely ridiculous time in the wee hours of morning, we slid into a cab and headed back to our hotels.

It was, without a doubt, the best time I’ve had in a long, looooong time. First, because of the show; there is nothing that makes me feel the way great music makes me feel, and this particular concert had been massive in every way. Secondly, the company was excellent, and meeting all the people I’d known online was a trip and a treat. And finally, if you’re a fan like me, how can you not rate an Elbow after-party (complete with a chat and photo op with The Craig) as one of the top experiences of all time? As exhausted as I was when I fell onto my bed, I was still awake for a little while longer, just recalling and processing the whole thing. And when I finally did fall asleep, it was with a song in my head and a smile on my face.

I’m in a bad way/Call my friends, they’ll know what to do

By the time I woke up on Saturday, nearly half the day was already gone. Even though I hadn’t had much to drink at the after-party, I felt a bit rough, as the hyper-excitement of the previous night and the lack of sleep afterward combined to create a weird, unpleasant, hangoverish type of sensation. I’d just about managed to ooze out of bed when the phone rang, and my friend and her husband invited me to join them for lunch (or breakfast, or whatever the hell it was) before they had to catch their train back home. Thanks to a quick, hot shower and a glassful of Vitamin B-complex, I was able to get myself feeling relatively human by the time they arrived at the hotel to meet me.

En route to a local restaurant, the plan mutated somewhat from just having a regular lunch (or breakfast, or whatever the hell it was) to making it a combination meal/Elbow sightseeing opportunity. We ended up at the Koffee Pot, and slid into a booth where one (or more) of the Elboys may very well have parked his arse at some point before us.

The Elbow connection was actually a bit beside the point, however, as this was really a chance to spend a little more time with these two wonderful people before we had to part ways. My friend handed me a large envelope labeled “puncture repair kit”, complete with an illustration of a deflating tire (she is dead clever, by the way!). Inside were a couple of DVDs for me to take home, so I could savor some more musical goodness after I arrived back in the real world. The food hit the spot for all of us, and we chatted and had a thoroughly agreeable time as we munched on our meals.

After we finished, we headed out into Manchester and we walked a bit, with both of them pointing out things I might be interested in, and giving me some idea of how to navigate through the area and get back to my hotel again without getting lost. Our time ran out all too quickly, and we hugged each other and said our goodbyes before they headed off to the train station. It was a bit sad to know that this would be the last time I’d see them on this trip, after having had only a small amount of time in their company. But it had been fantastic to even meet them at all, and in the short time I was there, they’d done so much to look after me. They, and my friend from Wales, and all the other forum folks I’d met, had been so warm, kind and fun to be around. I felt as if I could never adequately repay them for everything. It hit me what a special bunch they were, and what a remarkable trip this had been.

Though it wouldn’t have been nearly as incredible if I hadn’t met up with all those fabulous people, the trip still would have been worth it for the concerts alone. My affection and admiration for Elbow’s music was even stronger by the end of the week, which I hadn’t realized was possible. Seeing them play in larger settings had confirmed for me how powerful their songs are, as I had been just as drawn into the emotion of the music in those big arenas as I ever was in a smaller venue. A good number of the tunes being played on this tour are from the new album, but they were of excellent quality and I enjoyed them as if they were old favorites that I’d known for years. And seeing them at this particular point in their career – seasoned, successful, confident and on top of their game – drove home how insanely talented they all are.

They have an incredible range as a band, tackling everything from stripped-down ballads to full-on rock with equal ability. While that’s always been true of them, it really is more apparent now than it ever has been before in the time that I’ve followed them. With five albums now under their belt, and dozens of diverse songs to their credit, it’s easy to see how they’ve grown and progressed over the years. Watching them successfully navigate through a set filled with differing musical styles and approaches, and seeing the effect they had on the crowd, was all the proof I needed that my enthusiasm for this band was justified, even though so many people back home just didn’t get it. Despite my earlier self-questioning, dealing with all the planes, trains and taxis had absolutely been worth it to see them in the way I had that week.

I have a couple of other international trips planned before the end of this year, and I’m looking forward to both of them, but I honestly don’t suppose I’ll enjoy those in quite the same way that I enjoyed my amazing Week of Elbow. Making such brief but powerful connections – with the music, with the city where that music was created, and with the fans who love the music as much as I do – was so satisfying for me. It gave me a unique experience on many levels, and it even gave me a giant shot of unbridled optimism, which I wasn’t expecting at all.

I’m used to a lot of rude, self-absorbed, cynical behavior where I live. To have been in a situation where people I had never met before were opening their homes to me, being so generous with their time, bringing me gifts and going out of their way to ensure that I’d enjoy myself, kind of restored my faith in humanity a bit. I dunno, maybe that’s just the way things generally are in places outside the US, but maybe it’s because Elbow fans are a very special breed. I’m rather inclined to believe that after everything I’ve been through, and I’m lucky and proud to be one of them. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll still look back on this as one of the best experiences I’ve ever had, and it’ll always put the same song in my head and the same smile on my face that I had after that amazing night in Manchester.

When your dentures prevent your smile

These adventures will fill your eyes

with love

Elbow Week: a travelogue

Why I'm kinda vegetarian - but not really

On Twitter today, I saw that the public is being asked to submit ideas for a new product in the Linda McCartney line of vegetarian frozen foods. Well, not the entire public; the contest is open to residents of the UK/Ireland only. It's a good idea, though, because the Linda McCartney people can definitely use the help. I have actually eaten a few Linda McCartney frozen dinners, and I can't say I was knocked out by them. It has been years since I had one, though, and maybe they've gotten better. In any case, I am hopeful that the contest will result in something yummy. I'm always on the lookout for new vegetarian products, since I am (mostly but not really entirely) vegetarian myself.

The definition of "vegetarian" confuses many people, so I'll break it down simple like for ya. First, there are vegans, who are the hardcore mofos of the vegetarian world: no dairy, no eggs, and no animal by-products of any kind, which means they must hunt down items like marshmallows and cosmetics and clothing that do not, in any way, use animal sources of any kind in their manufacture. I am simply not disciplined enough for this lifestyle. And I like cheese waaay too much, so veganism was never an option for me.

There are several less-stringent varieties of vegetarians as well. There's vegetarians who eat eggs, but no dairy; vegetarians who eat dairy, but no eggs; raw food vegetarians; and, for all I know, there is a type of vegetarian who eats only fruits and vegetables that begin with the letter P.

And then there's my type of diet, which, for lack of a better term, I call the mostly-but-not-really-entirely vegetarian diet. I do not eat meat except for fish. I have not given up fish, because I like it too much and because I live in Florida and would probably be miserable without partaking of at least some of the local fish and shellfish around here. I do eat it rather infrequently, and I do look out for seafood sources that are as ocean-friendly as possible. It's not perfect, as far as veggie lifestyles go, but it works for me.

It's tough to have the diet I have, because I often have to defend my choices to both meat-eaters and more purist vegetarian types. I am a "tofu-eating hippie flake" to the former camp, and I am on morally indefensible ground according to the latter camp, who believe that you can't be "sort of vegetarian", just as you can't be "sort of pregnant". So, I find myself ending many food-related conversations by telling someone to just fuck off.

I do, in fact, agree with those who are full-on vegetarians and tell me I am not one of them. I understand the fact that either you are or you ain't, and if you eat living creatures like fish, then you ain't. I am not perfect, and neither is my diet or my lifestyle in general. I don't claim to be 100% eco-friendly with everything I do, buy or consume. I try to be aware, and I do try to make the best choices I can make. I know, however, that most vegetarians tend to disapprove of how lax my standards are compared to theirs. And that really pisses me off.

I can understand why so many meat-eaters have a negative view of vegetarians. I have to be totally honest here, folks. Vegetarians can be really, really annoying. For many who decide to go meat-free, it is a moral decision. And, like any lifestyle based on a specific and strictly-defined moral code, it sometimes causes those who choose to follow it to get pious and judgmental when they are around others who don't share their views.

It makes perfect sense to me that people who go veggie out of a desire to prevent animal cruelty would be so passionate in their views. it is a very admirable thing to look out for the creatures of the earth, and to learn how to adjust one's eating habits to support that cause. I think this world and it's inhabitants would be in better shape if everybody gave up meat. I don't think I can make that decision for anyone else, though, and I don't act militantly about it, because I think zealotry tends to scare people away rather than win them over.

I have had many a conversation with vegetarians who got on my case for not being 100% veggie. I understand and respect them, I really do, but I think it's up to me to decide what I do or don't eat. If I say I can live with eating the occasional piece of mahi mahi, then that's my business. And there are also those rare moments in life when I yield my regular diet for the sake of experience. When my husband and I traveled in Europe, for example, I did eat some dishes with meat in them. If you think I was gonna ask the waiter in that trattoria in Florence to pick the meat out of my homemade sauce, you must be smoking crack.

At the end of the day, my motivation for eating as I do is a combination of moral and health-related issues. I think there are many alternate sources for the nutrients I need, and I see no reason to eat meat when I can readily find and obtain those alternatives.

Luckily, I have a very understanding and accommodating family. My kid still eats meat, but will generally have whatever I make for dinner, which is always meat-free. And my husband has been especially good about my dietary choices. He was born and raised in Scotland, and is a burly, 6'4", weightlifting motherscratcher. That right there is as much of a meat-and-potatoes person as you are ever gonna find on planet Earth. Despite this, he happily eats my meat-free meals most of the time as well. For several years, he also went completely meat-free, but found he couldn't handle it after a while. Now, he eats what I cook and supplements it with lean chicken or turkey when he feels he wants some. But they both join in as well as could be expected.

It helps a lot that there are so many products now available for people who don't eat meat. It's also lucky that I have found a decent arsenal of veggie-friendly recipes that really taste delicious. I am Italian, and I'd kill myself if I didn't enjoy the food I eat. Trust me, I am not able to subsist on tofu burgers. I can tell you honestly, when I make veggie Shepherd's Pie or Sloppy Joes, or seitan Stroganoff, my husband and my kid are both on it like locusts. And if those two carnivores can enjoy what I cook, it can't be that bad.

I'm gonna leave a recipe here for those of you who are brave and/or open-minded enough to give meatless cooking a try. It's one that has been universally enjoyed by everyone who's had it, and I do mean everyone - from my husband to my parents, friends and brother-in-law, who is a grilling fanatic and has a weekly meat intake that rivals that of a T. rex. It uses seitan, a product that is available in Whole Foods stores and many regular supermarkets. If you do try it, I think you'll be surprised at how tasty it is.

SEITAN "CHEESESTEAK" SANDWICHES

1-1/2 cups thin sliced onion
1-1/2 cups thin green bell pepper strips
2 packages seitan strips
2 tbsp. balsamic vinegar
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. Greek seasoning
1 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
Additional garlic powder, Greek seasoning and black pepper (to sprinkle over seitan)
Sliced Provolone cheese (or non-dairy equivalent, if you're a hardcore vegan mofo)
Hoagie rolls

Drain seitan. If it is not sliced well, slice into strips. Place seitan on a paper plate and sprinkle with garlic powder, Greek seasoning, and black papper to taste. Allow seitan to sit in spices while doing the next step.

Heat a large, non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Coat with cooking spray. Add onion and pepper. Cover and reduce heat to medium. Cook, stirring often, until vegetables are crisp-tender (about 6 minutes).

Add seitan, balsamic vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, Greek seasoning, garlic powder and black pepper to skillet, stirring well. Continue to cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, for 4 minutes or until veggies are tender and seitan is heated through. Remove skillet from heat.

Preheat broiler. Split hoagie rolls lengthwise and place on a foil-lined cookie sheet. Fill rolls with seitan mixture. Top with sliced Provolone cheese. Broil 1 minute or until cheese melts. Serve immediately.

Why I'm kinda vegetarian - but not really

Music That Doesn't Suck (Part 2)

Happy New Year, peeps!

Well, this will be a happy year, at least as far as music is concerned. As y'all already know, I am looking forward to a new release from Elbow (and their show in Manchester - tee hee!), and there are a few other artists with releases in the near future that should be pretty tasty. I thought I'd do a little roundup of some of the stuff I'm psyched about; enjoy!

Elbow - Lippy Kids
Obviously, I have big, big love for this one. It's a great preview of what to expect on the new album (out in March in the UK, with a US release date to be announced soon, I hope). Lyrics are tremendous, as is the voice of frontman Guy Garvey, but the music on this is understated in the most magical way. The song treads really lightly, but it leaves the most beautiful footprints behind it.




R.E.M. - It Happened Today
I am always optimistic about new R.E.M. music. What I've heard so far from the new album, Collapse Into Now, sounds fairly decent, but I'll have to hear the whole thing as a piece to get a real feel for where they are now as a band.




Cake - Sick of You
Yeah, baby, Cake's back and they brought the cowbell! Shweeeet!



Iron & Wine - Walking Far From Home
OK, this one really threw me. I love me some Iron and Wine, but the first time I heard this tune, I was very "WTF?!?" about it. Doesn't much sound like the Sam Beam I'm accustomed to. However, different can be good, and this is proof. Let it play all the way through. Listen to those lyrics. Wait for it. You'll get it.




The Go! Team - Buy Nothing Day
I always get a solid kick out of the songs of The Go! Team. This track, from new LP Rolling Blackouts, is no exception. I know it's only January, but this shizz sounds like summer.



J Mascis - Not Enough
The man from Dinosaur Jr. is ready to grace us with a solo release, Several Shades of Why, this coming March. This is a lovely little taster from that LP, which is acoustic instead of his more customary electric awesomeness, but it's still quite awesome.



The Radio Dept. - Where Damage Isn't Already Done
One of the best bands you've never heard of. They're from Sweden, they've been around a while, and they are about to drop a collection of their previously released tunes spanning 2002-2010. Consider this an excellent way to play catch-up with them, if you're so inclined. The new double-disc release will be called Passive Aggressive (great title, no?) and this is one of the tracks you'll find on that set.



The Cave Singers - Gifts and the Raft
Aaaand, this last one brings us full circle, right back to Elbow agaian. Why? Because I first heard the music of The Cave Singers on Guy Garvey's radio program (Guy Garvey's Finest Hour, which is always full of amazing tunes. Check it out here, if you haven't heard it before). This is a track from their upcoming LP, entitled No Witch, and believe it or not, it has nothing to do with Christine O'Donnell.

Music That Doesn't Suck (Part 2)

Support indie music!

I'd like to make a plea to anyone who stops by, on behalf of my friend Robert Goodman. He is trying to raise some money to fund the release of the debut album by his group, the Robert Goodman Band. If you think you'd like to be a part of helping a self-supporting band get to the next level, then please check out the video, info and link to visit the Robert Goodman Band page on KickStarter. KickStarter is affiliated with Amazon.com, and if you already have an Amazon account, then donating (anything from $1 on up) is as easy as logging in and clicking a few times. They'll certainly appreciate the support!

Here's the link to the Robert Goodman Band page on Kickstarter:
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/robertgoodmanband/robert-goodman-band-2011debut-albumeverthing-is-be?ref=search

And here's a little taste of what they do:

Support indie music!

Its a small world after all

The internet's a funny old thing.

On the one hand, it has the power to separate people from one another. Every day, there are more and more ways to waste time on the web, and every day there are more and more people wasting time alone with their PC, instead of going outside their homes and doing actual things. And the problem doesn't stop when they do leave their houses. You'll see whole families, waiting for their meals at a restaurant, ignoring each other while they text, or check their email, or look at a YouTube video. I know a few people who can't go more than an hour or so without checking in on Facebook, because they are so hooked into it. It's at the point where even young kids who have absolutely no reason to have a Facebook page (like my 10-year-old daughter) think that they NEED a Facebook page, because they've come to think that is the best way to keep in touch with the people they know. Conversations are so old school; why bother when you can post a comment on your friend's wall, or even better, just click "like"? In a lot of ways, the internet has undermined the relationships and activities many people used to enjoy.

And then, on the other hand, the internet has given us the potential for connections and opportunities we might not have otherwise had. Let me offer you my heartwarming Christmas story as an example of what I mean.

I am a rabid fan of the indie rock group Elbow. They're from Manchester, England, and I've been following and supporting them for years, with an enthusiasm that most people usually reserve for sports teams or Jesus. When an Elbow forum called Elbow Room Only made its online debut in 2008, I was quick to join up. It was great to find so many fellow fans, especially since this band has not exactly become a household name here in the US. At last, I had some folks with whom I could share my thoughts and feelings about this incredible music! And they turned out to be a really nice bunch of folks, too, with some of them becoming the 21st-century equivalent of pen pals. I have sent and received goodie packages, exchanged emails and Christmas cards, and generally kept connected to several of them over the past 2 years.

Over the past little while, there have been a lot of happy conversations on the Elbow forum. News was posted on the Elbow website that they'd be releasing a new album this coming March, with a tour to follow in the UK. Of course, this put all of us Elbow geeks in a proper tizzy, though some were a bit tizzier than others. I am one of only a few Americans on the forum; nearly all the rest are from the UK/Ireland or Europe. And since the tour dates were all in the UK/Ireland or Europe...well, I was a bit less able to join in the fun. My fellow Elbow-heads were posting about the shows they planned to attend, while I just had to wait until (eventually) some US dates would (hopefully) be posted.

Or so I thought. As it turns out, the internet was about to play a vital role in The Greatest Christmas Ever.

At this point in our heartwarming tale, a bit of background info might be useful. I've been married nearly 20 years now. However, my husband and I went through a really (really, REALLY) rough patch and were apart for some years, beginning when when our daughter was just about to start school. Only recently have we managed to work our way back to some normalcy, and over the past year or two, we've really made a lot of progress. Things are better for us now than they've been in quite a long time, as a family and as a couple, and I think it was for this reason that my husband decided he was going to make this a Christmas to remember.

He knew just how much I wanted to see Elbow in concert. However, the odds of them coming here to Florida are approximately the same as the odds of me joining the Celine Dion fan club (in other words, less than zero). Now, I've actually traveled out of state to see them twice before, but I would never even remotely have considered trying to arrange a trip outside the US to catch one of their shows. So, he decided to do it for me.

He knew that I had a pen pal-type relationship with one particular member of the Elbow forum, a perfectly lovely woman named Lorraine, who lives in one of England's Northern Counties. My husband and I had even planned to try and meet up with Lorraine and her husband (also an Elbow fan/forum member) when we take our planned family trip to visit his relatives in Scotland this coming summer. Lorraine, he thought, could help him execute his cunning plan.

He knew her name, and tried searching for her email address or other contact info, but came up empty handed. He also knew that Lorraine and I follow each other on Twitter, so he created a Twitter account and tried finding her that way. That was how he got his first break. As it happens, Lorraine had started up her own site for Elbow fans (called, appropriately enough, elbowfans), as a sort of sister site to the other forum, and she has a second Twitter account to tweet about updates to that site. My husband saw one such tweet, and found his way to the elbowfans site, where he promptly signed up as a new member. Lorraine, in her admin capacities, sent him a welcome message, and then he let her know who he was and what he was up to.

From there, he and Lorraine started communicating via email, and with her suggestions and assistance, my husband managed to arrange a complete trip for me. I would be flying to Manchester, Elbow's hometown, to see them in concert this coming spring. He got me the plane tickets, a ticket to the gig, and a room in a really sweet hotel. He made plans to work from home while I'm away, so he can look after the kid and the dogs, and he enlisted Lorraine's help in looking after me once I'm there, as she and her husband will be coming into Manchester themselves for the show and have offered to hang with me and keep me company there. Like I said before, greatest. Christmas. EVER.

It's ridiculous how much time and effort he put into planning this for me. And it was all through social media and websites that he managed it. In this case, those same online entities that isolate so many of us actually worked to create new connections and strengthen old ones. In fact, the first time I had the chance to hear Lorraine's voice came on Christmas morning, when my husband told me about my trip and gave me Lorraine's number. Previously, our communication had all been online or in the mail, so having a proper chat with her was truly a gift in itself (See? Didn't I tell you this was a heartwarming story?).

I am profoundly amazed and grateful, to my husband and to Lorraine, for the work they did to make this happen. But I am also grateful for the technology that enabled them to do what they did. Somehow, two people who live thousands of miles apart from one another and had never met, managed to pull off a mindblowing and brilliantly sneaky Christmas surprise for me, all via online interaction. As I was saying, the internet's a funny old thing.

Its a small world after all

The best Christmas story ever

Folks, I have an early Christmas present for all of ya. I know we're all plenty busy getting ready for the holidays, but I'm gonna ask you to take about 18 minutes out of your day to watch a little something, and if you do, I know you'll be glad you did.

I don't think I've ever seen a Christmas story that I love as much as this one. It's a clip from the end of the film Smoke. Now, if you've never seen that flick, it is one you should check out ASAP, because it's fantastic all the way through. But the ending, in particular, is one of the best things I've ever seen in my life. It's not Frosty the Snowman or It's a Wonderful Life. It is, however, the most real and human and beautiful piece of film I've ever seen on the subject of Christmas.

The skills of actors Harvey Keitel and William Hurt, the direction of Wayne Wang, and the cinematography of Adam Holender are all extraordinary during this clip. See for yourself, and make sure you watch it all the way through, because when it changes from color to black and white, it gets REALLY good. Enjoy, and happy holidays, folks.

The best Christmas story ever