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Your support of KDHX during this pledge drive season is certainly welcome. I’d be remiss in not noting these particular slots, as all are worthy of your membership donation(s).

The Record Sto’, Thursday, November 5, 2-4 p.m., with Doug Morgan

Silver Tray, Friday, November 6, 12-2 p.m., with Doug Morgan

Dangerous Curves, Monday, November 9, 2-4 p.m., with Sherri Danger

Topic A, Monday, November 9, 7:30-8 p.m., with Amanda Doyle

Juxtaposition, Wednesday, November 11, 8-10 p.m., with Rob Levy

Silver Tray, Friday, November 13, 12-2 p.m., with Rob Levy

Number’s 314-664-3688 if you didn’t know.

Won’t lie, I find this quite a downer, though I also wish best of luck to all parties involved. FPM kept alive the long, great tradition of St. Louis bands who’d create a worthwhile holiday party by playing on Thanksgiving (or, in other cases, on Christmas), a group that included The Urge, The Unconsious and Brian Henneman. Seriously enjoyed every show these guys played in my presence and am glad I caught multiple gigs over the past few years, at venues as odd as Topshooters,the Lucas School House and even the Wesport Playhouse.

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Greetings, friends.

At this time of year we usually take the opportunity to inform you, our fans, about our upcoming Thanksgiving show. This year, however, is different. Instead, we have two serious announcements about the future of Fragile Porcelain Mice.

First, because of various circumstances, we will not be performing our annual Thanksgiving show this year. This news is a great disappointment to us–not just because we won’t be performing, but because we look forward to meeting up and chatting with all of our loyal fans who have celebrated the holiday of turkey and rock with us over the years.

Second, after much discussion we have decided that Fragile Porcelain Mice will no longer continue as a creative entity. This means that FPM will no longer be writing, recording, or performing new material. The door is still open for some shows; however, we have no plans to perform together in the near future.

We hope you understand. We are grateful for all your support throughout the many years. We hope to see you again.

Sincerely,

Dave, Mark, Scott, and Tim: Fragile Porcelain Mice

Life is good. Really, really good.

Saturday, November 7, Atomic Cowboy (6 p.m.-10 p.m.)

Sunday, November 22, The Halo Bar (10 p.m.-3 a.m.)

Friday, November 27, Rock N Roll Craft Show @ Third Degree Glass (3 p.m.-4 p.m.)

Friday, November 27, The Royale (10 p.m.-1:30 a.m.)

Friday, December 25/Xmas, The Royale (8 or 9 p.m.-1:30 a.m.)

Monday, December 28, The Halo Bar (post-The Unconscious/The Great Crusades)

Tuesday, December 29, The Halo Bar (post-Pale Divine/The Incurables)

To indicate some level of EXCITEMENT about the last two dates is to give meaning to the term UNDERSTATEMENT. Life is good, indeed.

While yours truly was in the employ of the Riverfront Times in the late ’90s, a miniature figurine of Golden State Warrior small forward Latrell Sprewell made the rounds of the paper’s staff. Over time, three different employees had the mini on their desks and, in each case, said employee received a short haircut. As you might guess, I was the third of the trio and decided to break the curse in mid-2000, taking the mis-labeled “Sprewel” home with me.

Since that time, the li’l guy’s always been around, sorta begging to be put to some sort of work. Recently, I figured that camera use might be stimulated if I put Spree in the car and shot him in/at: various public events, open houses, classrooms, restaurants, pubs, coffeehouses and anywhere else I might find myself. Sure it’s got a bit of the “traveling gnome” vibe to it, this idea, but I’ve never been too proud to appropriate.

Spree made his public debut a week back, at The Dewes Chili Cookoff 2009, a delicious way to introduce the figurine to a new, public role. Yesterday, Spree hopped in the car and went for a five-stop UE bender, on both the North Side and the East Side. The fourth locale was a recently-cleared, historic cemetary on the edge of Brooklyn/Lovejoy. Though the graveyard’s still not in a pristine state, the brush that had overwhelmed the area has been scaled way back, allowing visitors a chance to peek at the grave markers of folks a century removed from this mortal coil.

Sure, hanging around a graveyard (and a burned-out church and collapsing funeral home and demolished stockyard) on Halloween day’s a bit on the cliche tip, but that’s where we found ourselves. And where I dropped Spree.

Now, there’s probably some type of karmic offense that I’m not considering here, what with losing a figurine of this NBA macontent in a long-abandoned cemetary on the edge of the oldest black settlement in the region, but life’s what it is and I couldn’t let Spree litter the grounds of this quiet, sacred place. So I headed over today, unsure that I’d spot the three-inch Spree, but mostly sure that this was the last place the totem was photographed. Tipped on his side, in the partially-collapsed grave of one Nettie Green (“1895 – 1927, At Rest”), there was Spree, 24-hours removed from my care and looking none the worse for wear after a Halloween night in the boneyard.

The baller’s gonna travel with me from here-on-out, even if he’s lost another time, or two. But me and Spree share history.  Ain’t gonna leave him. Ain’t gonna lose him, without a fight.

At Flickr: Project Sprewel(l).

After Haji Haji and family hopped on the bus for Maine, it was time for a sorrows-drowning beer. Knowing that a new place was opening up on the South Side, it was time for an investigation of the Tin Cup, located just west of Iron Barley and The Wedge on Bates. Within minutes of arriving, it became one of the most unusual 10 bar experiences I’ve ever enjoyed. Upon departure it ranked in the top five.

Details will not follow. You gotta actually know me. And we have to hash them out in a bar. But not at the Tin Cup.

A couple months back, I lit upon the idea of a web show called “I Am Haji Haji,” which would center on a kid of exactly that name. Haji’s been a player on the STL United FC youth team for the past couple years and he’s really blossomed as a person during that time. He’s a Somali immigrant with a certain spark for life, so it’s been amazing watching him become more Americanized, while serving as an intermediary between his parents and the world around them; oftentimes, Haji’s the one doing the translation in family business situations, heady stuff for an 11-year-old. So he’s the one doing a little of everything: he can help deal with a power company rep, or he can call for pizza. In some ways, as a mentor of Haji often mentions, he’s becoming a man of the house.

For now, the show’s not getting off the ground. Because just as we were going to start to filming the three-minute weekly segments, the Haji family decided to move to Lewiston, Maine, joining relatives there. If that seems a particularly strange place for Somali immigrants to resettle, well: it is and it isn’t. In fact, thousands of Somalis/Bantus now call Lewiston home, and the Haji family will raise that number by just shy of 10.

Figuring that we had only a week to catch Haji in his element, we decided to start taping him last week, catching his last seven days in St. Louis. My collaborator, Brian Spath, and I recorded him playing soccer and hanging around the flea market where he works in North City, just across the road from the “Welcome to Wellston” sign. We followed him to the off-license neighborhood snack shop, and joined him at home during a farewell celebration, which had him dancing with nearly two-dozen other Somali children under the age of 12. (If you’ve never seen 20-plus Somali kids dancing their hearts out to hip-hop radio, I’d advise you find the opportunity! Whoa.)

The most dramatic moment, though, came when we were standing with his parents in the gangway between two of the multi-family units in their apartment complex. Shots were heard in the distance, then steadily grew closer. Bullets began whistling, cars flew down the street and collided and were abandoned, bodies ran in every direction, police were called… all the usual stuff. Thanks to a police report I secured from a friend, we learned that the house next door was hit multiple times, with a family of three, including a baby, only four-feet away from one bullet’s path through their living room and into a wall. Unreal.

While we post that video below, it’s not the way we’ll frame Haji’s story. The kid’s got life, spunk, moxie, whatever phrase you wish to use. We’ll occasionally share some of that footage, while trying to piece together the larger story. If luck runs our way, Haji will back next summer; he wants to play soccer here and would be able to stay with an aunt. If that happens, we’ll have an opportunity to run through some of our “I Am Haji Haji” ideas. For a kid who’s never ever been to the movies, we hope to let him do a host of new things: cook goat in an organic kitchen; build something at the City Museum; shoot hoops with Billiken center Willie Reed; go foxhunting; and generally engage in educational merrymaking, allowing all of us a chance to watch life as an 11-year-old Somali kid in North City might see it.

Best of all is that the youngster wants to do it. And he’s a natural on-camera.

On Wednesday, we’ll be hopeful, saying “see you soon!” instead of “goodbye.”

(Seem to be having trouble embedding of late, but here’s the vid:)

watch?v=xg9IZfrJTzg&feature=autofb

Still October, people! Despite the lateness, this one’s getting blasted out on the quick, with sketchy WiFi connections, so please excuse typos and the like.

Radio, Topic A: Tonight on Topic A, Amanda Doyle is bringing on guest Geoff Manaugh of the book and blog BLDG Blog. It would be far too simplistic to say he writes about architecture. Instead, he touches on everything you could want to know about how our built environment effects our daily life. Simply awesome. Honored to run the board for a show like this one.

More blogs, Matt Thenhaus: There are people you know with an ability to have an interest in everything. But they also have that one thing that they’re sort of known for, whether, or not, they want the designation. Matt Thenhaus knows beer. And now he’s sharing that enthusiasm with the world, via the RFT’s blogs and his new effort over there. Go, Matt!

More blogs, Claire Nowak-Boyd: We wish a delayed fond farewell to CN-B, who is traveling to Detroit for life’s next chapter, taking with her the blog Curious Feet. C ya, C. And save us a room. 

Photography, The Super Six: Haven’t been active/involved in boxing for some time, but there was a time when I was deeply interested in not only the sport, but all media surrounding it. Including art photography. There’s a set at Flickr that’s got me interested in the topic, again, shot amazingly by Howard Schatz.

Book, “Juliet, Naked”: Here’s a psychological gem. I cannot start reading Nick Hornby’s “Juliet, Naked,” because I don’t want to have finished it. In effect, I view each new Hornby title as a gift from the heavens, so I’m just staring at his newest title, in hopes of not racing through it. Which, by extension, means not starting it. CRAZY. But I will read up on Hornby at Nick’s Books.

Documentaries, “Old Dog, New Trick” and “The Pride of St. Louis”: Have I invited you to the movies I helped make? If not…

Site tip, Place and Memory: Haven’t had a chance to dip into this in any real way, but Place and Memory looks wonderful. Thanks, Byron.

Lush B-sides compilations, “Topolino“: Think somebody would’ve told me about this. Nope.

Magazine articles, Malcolm Gladwell on football, concussions and dogfighting: Well, I’ve basically given away the headline of this piece, but any Gladwell piece is worth reading and this one’s no exception, especially given the conversations taking place around this subject in recent months. A lengthy piece, worth every minute spent. Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to play football.

RIP TV, “Freaks and Geeks“: Played the first/pilot episode of this late, lamented comedy for my Media Writing classes at WU and it went over like a lead balloon. Wouldn’t have expected that, a bit. But the viewing got me ready to make a commitment to the series, for a second time. Genius show, friends, genius.

Local albums, “Matt Harnish and Other Delights“: Favorite local album of the year, even if Matt Harnish doesn’t want me to say so.

Awards, Kick Ass Awards: Have I invited you to attend this, too? No. Well, now I have. Sunday, November 8, Joe’s Cafe, 7 p.m., free. Clickey.

MLS players, Kyle Patterson: In a few minutes, Kyle Patterson is dropping by Cabrini Academy to talk to soccer players there, who were coached by him a summer back. While there are more high-profile players in the league, I’m not thinking that too many would spend multiple afternoons visiting kids, a year after working with them, and with a pro career underway. If Kyle was in town in November, he’d walk with a Kick Ass Award. So, he gets a symbolic one, in absentia.

I’d like to dedicate all of this week’s posts to Steve Pohlman, co-proprietor of Off Broadway. Not that anything bad’s happened to him. Instead, I’ll note that he needled me at the club the other night, about not having posted anything new here in some time. So, for a little while, buoyed by the fact that I have one reader, I’ll move into hyper-drive.

For today’s second post, here’s a link to a short story about Emily Hemeyer at the St. Louis Beacon. With the online publication now running shorter spotlight articles on local artists, this is one of the first ones to appear. Was happy to spill some digital ink on one of the South Side’s most creative.

It’s right here.

This story is 100% true.

Just returned from the Trophy Room, on Arsenal and Brannon. The radio show The Men’s Room was broadcasting from there today and I’d hoped to run into co-host Brian McKenna post-show. Missing him, I figured that I’d sit down, nurse a beer and watch some of the live coverage of the balloon racing across Colorado. At the bar were about 15 bottled beer-drinking hoosiers, along with the stacked, just-off-shift bartender, relieved by another young lady of similar ilk. Nothing about the scene was particularly surprising or new or notable.

But then… at some point in proceedings, one of the resident wits decided to fire up the digital jukebox with The 5th Dimension’s “Up, Up and Away,” which caused the locals to either yuck-yuck, or to sing along to the chorus “up, up and away/in my beautiful/my beautiful balloon.”

Not sure that I needed to be reminded that The Trophy Room’s regulars were a band of dipshit huckleberries, but I just got one anyway.