Out on the weekend

In January of 2005, my friends and I got together for the first Jeff Tweedy show at Hotel SnS. We had never done anything like it before, and I remember it well as a beautiful mess of a night, full of singalongs and crazy requests and disbelief that the show was even happening. Through some great organization, teamwork, and super genorosity on the part of a lot of people (first and foremost Jeff and Susan) we have now been able to repeat that experience twice. Of course, "repeat" is inaccurate. Last year we had a blowout of a weekend featuring three musical acts on Friday night, three official performances on Saturday night, a PA system and detailed recording setup; the works. It was awesome, of course, but I figured that the quality of "pure, crazed giddiness," was something that could never really be captured again. Things could be equally amazing, but not in the same way.

As it turned out, I was half right. Saturday night was definitely not the same as that night in 2005. But to me, it had a very similar vibe. We did away with the PA and all its trappings, and planned for more informal sets from Mart and Dave. As it turned out, we got so much more than we bargained for.

The fun actually began on Friday, with the "I Hate the 90s" party at SnS. As it happens, I do not hate the 90s at all. The years 1990-1999 saw me from age 10 to age 20, so it would be pretty sad if I hated them. I dug up enough 90s clothing and accessories to provide headbands and chokers for others, and necessitate a costume change for me halfway through the night. I was pleased that Sam and Paul were on the same schedule. What can I say about the party? Besides including a bona fide 90s rock star (Sam's friend Eli of the Smoking Popes), we enjoyed jell-o shots, 1994 Sassy magazines, an array of costume styles from grunge to slacker to britpop to kinderwhore (thanks for the reminder, Thax) to hip hop, Malibu Musk, and a masterful playlist that included the extended version of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme. There's a verse about the plane ride to California! Who knew? It was nice to see some more Chicago-area friends I don't get to hang out with very often, and meet some new people too. Abby and I briefly became Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre, performing "Nothin' But a G Thang" for the whole basement late in the night. And Trish should be giving Macarena lessons to the masses. (Well, actually, nobody should be giving Macarena lessons to the masses. But Trish could.)

Then came Saturday. The highlight of the early afternoon was meeting Judy and Doug's adorable baby Hannah, with the second annual trip to Hot Doug's thrown in for good measure. Then came cooking, Wii playing, final basement prep, and greeting the continuous stream of friends coming through the door with delicious food and/or drinks. From mac & cheese, lasagna, Dick's savory meat (it never gets old!), and pierogies to brownie bars, cookies, chai birthday cupcakes and almond bark containing more than 50% of California's entire supply of almonds, and more. There were also hot pink porn star drinks created by Sooz's Paul - delicious and surprisingly potent. A few more guests joined the party, including our poster artist extraordinaire Jay Ryan, who brought his wife Diana (designer of our 2005 poster) and some guy named Andrew Bird. He had an appointment to fix a hammered dulcimer later on that night, but he hung out for awhile.

After a great set of originals by Dave Mirabella, Jeff and Susan arrived. I think it's around this point that the details start to get hazy for me. (I can blame the porn stars for that, but only a little bit.) There was some chatting and more eating, and more music. Jeff played about a million songs for us that night. We went around the room with everybody picking one song ("If I can't play the song you request ... then you get to pick a different song") and then choosing the person to go next. It was a lot of fun, and people made some great choices. My own selection was "Woodgrain" - something I'd never heard in person until Saturday. I will love Heidi and Kristina always for choosing "Let's Not Get Carried Away" and "More Like the Moon," respectively. Anyway, there were lots of songs (but not the theme from "Cheers"), and stories, and laughter, and even dancing. Kande's Sock Jeff was a big hit. Later, Dave, Mart, Adam, and Devin joined Jeff for the "singalong" song portion of the evening, becoming the "Five Man Acoustical Jam" (thanks, Paul) and powering through a variety of covers and Wilco songs. By the time Jeff serenaded Susan with a couple of Herman's Hermits tunes to cap off the night, my mind was officially blown. The night had been somehow greater than the sum of its parts - and its parts were pretty damned great. I think a big part of it was just being able to look around the room at a sea of really good friends. Everything seemed to radiate a warm, comfortable (and yes, a little bit giddy) happiness. I am officially very lucky.

After the show was finally over and the annual group photo was taken, we went back upstairs for a quick poster signing. Hannah and Doug reappeared, and Jeff got to hold Hannah. Much documentation of the cuteness ensued. Not long after the Tweedys were escorted out by the Beloved Valet, we had another wonderful performance by Mart in the basement. Curtis Mayfield and the Police blurred together (into a really interesting supergroup) as we sat and sang along in the wee hours of the morning. Dave even took over on guitar at one point while Judy, Paul and I (and many others) sang "Corduroy Cutoff Girl" - proving that it can't be that hard to pull off.

Eventually even the best parties must come to an end, and this one was no exception. After some early morning Wii Sports with Sam and Paul, I headed back home as the sun began to peek over the horizon. It was a good weekend, I'd say.