We all think Iowa City is awesome, but could be even better if people would just focus on working together. Andre is someone who just gets down to the business of making that happen. […]
Pretty sure I lost part of my brain back there, pinballing from The Blue Moose to The Yacht Club to Gabe’s and back again. I’ll recover that lost chunk, if begrudgingly. Because losing your head to music is worth the sacrifice. […]
You may have noticed the awesome cover art for the March Little Village, which was embroidered and appliquéd by the talented and adorable Grace Locke Ward. Thanks to Mission Creek’s Andre Perry, Grace & I were able to attend the reception at Mark Moen’s amazing penthouse pied a terre, so that Grace could present him with the original cover work.
Tonight I bought a Maker’s Mark For Amber Tamblyn
Not to celebrate drunkenness but to celebrate intoxication.
To celebrate how words can get you high
how the idea of being out of your mind
can take you out of your mind. […]
Sycamore Mall Management is apparently petrified of dissent, and shielded Bob Vander Plaats from anyone questioning his stance on marriage equality and the Iowa Courts, and they used the Iowa City Police to keep protesters away. […]
We read the obits at our house, because we’re at the age where we find our friends and acquaintances featured there with increasing frequency. My wife asked me the other night “did you know Alyssa Baye? It says she was a music fan and liked that Dead Larry.” I didn’t know Alyssa personally. I have […]
I attended The Red Avocado’s second beer dinner on Wednesday, March 23. Served to a soundtrack of blues played by guitarist Dustin Busch (who fittingly told me his last name is spelled “like the beer”), the beer dinner presented five courses worth of expertly chosen food and beer pairings. […]
Catherine’s has always had beautiful things in their window display. But never like THIS!! Iowa City’s own Les Dames du Burlesque got the glass all steamy with a sneak preview of their show for Mission Creek THIS WEEK!! Passersby got an eyeful as the ladies seduced Dubuque Street like enchanted mannequins come to life. A clock […]
Everyone has their first time with John Waters. For me, it was the summer of 1976, when I took off from my Grandmother’s house in Provo Utah, after a weird, lonely, freshman year at BYU (don’t ask) and hitchhiked around the West. I ended up–rather crazed after sleeping rough alongside Interstate 5–in Berkeley, crashing with hippie friends. My first night in town they took me to see a midnight showing of… […]