No big philosophical or intellectual discussion from me tonight.

Just: I had a blast this weekend!

The Clapton Research Team consisted of me, Rachael (who is Awesome), Caroline, my nice friend Bradley, and his exquisite companion, Barb.

We left Casa Ramrod at about 2:30 pm on Saturday. The concert was scheduled to start at 7:30 pm.

Surely that would give us plenty of time to get there….

The gang decided to avoid the traffic snarls on I-35 into San Antonio, and therefore took the scenic route via half a dozen different back roads. Translation: We are not lost, dammit.

Eventually, after a stopover in Wimberley at the Visitor’s Center, to upgrade our map arsenal and get detailed directions to the cutoff, we got close enough to San Antonio to begin the quest for TexMex. We gradually spiralled in to a landing at the Alamo Cafe.

The food was perfectly decent, our waiter was a sweet little hippie boy who was infinitely patient with our demands. The coolest thing about the Alamo, though, is that they have, in the entrance hall, a wide-open Texas sky painted on the bowed ceiling, and it cycles through a day’s light and dark in about five minutes. This is startlingly effective and charming.

We then briefly visited with one of our party’s family at an undisclosed location. When once more on the road, there was discussion of family. There was also discussion of apples falling not far from trees.

We then did not get lost in downtown San Antonio for awhile. (Confession time. I’m a lousy navigator. Barb is a superb one. Okay? Satisfied now?)

: Read More »

Okay, I just now got back into town from the big road trip with Barb and Rachael Who is Awesome and with the band (except for the Dude, who wussed out).

After much battering by Brad and Caroline this weekend, as well as the “You’re Full of Shit” post by Brad, with its ensuing comments, I’m forced to abandon my pose as a crude backwoods Texas redneck.

I hadn’t realized that this perceptive readership would find it so transparently obvious that I am indeed as couth as the next guy in the pickup truck. Maybe even couthier.

My newly-admitted refined sensibilities cause me to strongly encourage you to absorb this clip of Luciano Pavarotti in performance. He may be the greatest operatic tenor who has ever lived, and your understanding of modern high culture is incomplete without a course in Pavarotti.

Click the pic. You’ll have a deeper understanding of the transcendent genius that is Pavarotti. You’ll be a better person for it.

:

:

:

I must admit that the first half of the clip seems the most moving to me, with the latter part in a few places perhaps degenerating into, for lack of a gentler phrase, toneless howling, but that is sometimes the nature of serious artistic striving.

As creative people, our grasps should always exceed our reach. Or vice-versa.

:

Also, as a bonus for you, and because you need as much culture as you can swallow these days, this clip from the same 2003 benefit concert “Pavarotti and Friends” spoke to me even more deeply. It is drenched with allusions and metaphors and precipitations.

Now, that’s Opera!