Returned, an hour-or-so back, from a show at the City Art Supply. What a wonderful evening for an open-door gig, with three local artists teaming with two Portland-based performers to create quite a magical night of music (and video) on Cherokee. For a time, I sat on the stoop of a neighboring house, sipping at a donated can of PBR and listening to a gorgeous drone-scape from guitarist/sound manipulator .e and I was as deliriously spaced-out as you can be.

In the past couple years, I’ve run into a few nights like this at City Art, evenings when I didn’t necessarily know the musicians, but wound up a serious fan of one, or more. Already, I’m on the second listen of a CD that I picked up tonight, Shelley Short‘s “Captain Wildhorse (Rides the Heart of Tomorrow).” Great voice, interesting sonics… maybe a slightly-less-oddball version of St. Vincent? That’s what striking me as an apt comparison at a late hour. At any rate, t’s an awesome disc and it wouldn’t be in collection tonight if I hadn’t taken the three-minute bike ride to C.A.S.

While tonight had certain, lovely qualities, more often I would up at City Art Supply on Saturday afternoons, maybe after running to Soulard Market or before striking some errands off the to-do list. I’d stop anytime that I’d see Dana Smith in the shop, usually finding him painting in the front window, with natural light streaming in on him and on his latest work. It was fun to sit around and kibitz about the local art scene, music scene, freak scene. Once in a while, I’d even buy something, figuring, hell, it was a place of commerce, not just a conversation salon.

City Art’s been a valued piece of the “new” Cherokee Street. And a great resource for tips on new artists, of all stripes. If tonight was my last chance to sample the particular energy of this space, I’ll miss it, for sure. But anytime Shelley Short’s on my stereo, I’ll look back on fondly, with thanks and hosannas going out to Dana.

Damn you for being so cool, you funky little shop.

Oh, I got ’em. Don’t we all.

But bad cameras, unworkable cameras, underutilized cameras… those I got more than anything. Alas.

Still taking pix-es, though. Was recently crowing about a five-stop UE trip and the evidence is in. Probably the set most interesting to people will one dedicated to Hobo University, located on the north Riverfront and run by the Amish Hobo, Jeremiah. Enjoy them in all their blue-tinted glory.

They run an open potluck on Thursday nights, so if anyone’s game one o’ these weeks, hit me up.

My ghost peppers are making the news. Kinda.

And I might say that “limited” is a relative term. There are 25 red hots on the vine right now, so let me know and I’ll undercut my price at Local Harvest, ‘k?

Lovely late addition, ’cause:

1. Yours truly is spinning tonight at The Halo, 10 p.m.-to-close. Can only dent the generous DJ tab there, so have one on me.

2. Just completed the greatest day of UE in recent memory. Details to follow, but the rounds included: a random run-in with Peat Stensoul; the discovery of a dipped ship; imparted wisdom from the Amish Hobo; and a shirtless (male) dance revue at Perigen’s in Madison, IL. Some days are sprinkled with extra magic, y’know?

3. Next up on the reading list: “Bang Your Head: The Rise and Fall of Heavy Metal” by David Konow. Yes.

4. Bringing by some ghost peppers to The Royale. They’re going to be pickling in some spirit within the next day, so ask about ’em, if you got the need for heat.

5. The Kick-Ass Awards’ details are coming soon to the 52nd City Twitter site. Look for date, venue and winners this week over thurr.

We forego this past week’s Five for Friday and punch up the monthly notes a quarter-month late. Ah, yes, school must be back in session.

Show, Dandy Warhols: What’s up when one of your favorite bands plays a full, two-hour set, frontloading the show with three of your favorite cuts in the first five tracks played? And even do so at a volume that allows for occasional conversation? Joy! So fun to see the Dandys about a decade after their last show here, especially when they pass through town and also offer up the gift of a sweet sessionwith the local radio station. Thanks, Dandys!

Additional live performances, KDHX: After two weeks, sets by L.O.V.E. and Devon Allman are in the books. Upcoming on Silver Tray are shows by: Person X  (9/11), Danny Liston (9/18) and Old Lights (9/25). Have not heard so much as a note of music by the last band, so they immediately move to the top of my curiosity list.

Site, Berger’s Beat: This must be a sign of… something. Jerry Berger’s online. Cah-ray-zee.

RFT covers, Bill Chott: Yo, I know this guy.

Local business that cares, The Firebird: Just today, Mike Cracciolo of the club came in on a Sunday, just hours after the leaving the business, to observe the venue during a six-hour film shoot. He didn’t have to do that and the venue didn’t have to allow the space for no charge. But the space was offered and accepted and that, folks, is so often the rule around town: people giving their time, money or access at the drop of a hat. When you spend money and time at the Firebird, you’re dealing with good folks. That’s right.

Beverage money waster, Vitamin Water: Delicious. And the product’s site is wacky.

Sports teams, SLU Billikens soccer: Yikes, 1-2-0 in the first three games. I’m jumping off this bandwagon. Tell me when the nightmare’s over.

Strange gigs, wedding DJ: Have just completed my second wedding DJ gig this year and it was a lovely affair. Enjoyed the company, the ceremony, the evening. But there’s that eternal feeling that no matter what crate you pack, no matter how loaded the iPod, no matter how liberal the happy couple might be with song choice, there’s always going to be missing music. And, man, how that always winds up true. Need some ’50s/’60s pop hits is this round’s lesson. As in, even a few cuts of that stuff. Yikes.

Intersections, Damen & Milwaukee, Chicago: Fifteen years ago, I would’ve spent mad money on clothes, books, records and accoutrements in this corner of Chicago and, damn, if it didn’t just happen again. Somebody hook me up with some freelance so I can blow more money in Chicago, please.  

Challenges, ghost peppers: Watched, with a mixture of fascination, respect and horror as local man Brant Sextro ate an entire ghost pepper at lunch recently, mixing the fiery bad boy with a Mangia lunch sandwich and gallons of soda. Amazing, stupendous and worthy of inclusion in “Our Own Oddities.” Hat’s off to the champ.

Money grabs, Missouri unclaimed property: Looks like Mr. Clint Zweifel has some presents for me, but I’m inherently suspicious of this state service. Who’s cashed in, or cashed out, as the case may be? Or is this a trap to catch me for some long-forgotten crime?

Fish, trout: Three cheers for the trout being sold at Local Harvest. Absurdly good.

Book, Millenials Go to College: William Strauss and Neil Howe have made a pretty good living by predicting generational trends and shifts, themselves now well into their second decade of combined work on this social science.  Found a copy of this work sitting on a random hallway table at Webster U., devouring it in couple of reading sessions. Though the book’s pretty chipper about the best characteristics of the millenial generation, there’s a tremendous amount of valuable digging down by the pair, who pretty well peg the curiosities and quirks of today’s collegiate attendees. Well worth reading by anyone spending time on a college campus.

Yours truly has undertaken the generally-joyous task of coaching two soccer teams at Cabrini Academy this fall. After the season’s opening week, we’re sitting with a 1-1 record, and a 3-3 goal aggregate. Ultimately, things are looking up, but…

The two things I didn’t want to hear at this early juncture have already been realized.

1. My goalie suffered a brutal schoolyard arm break today. While I feel for the kid – who lives just around the corner from me – I won’t lie in saying that my first thought wasn’t selfish. As in: I JUST LOST MY KEEPER! Oy!

2. After a tournament win the other day (a brisk, effective 2-0 dispatch of our stunned opponents), a tourney director came across the field to deliver the grim news. Our next game was set: Saturday morning at 9 a.m. Ordinarily, those would be painful enough words. On the morning after the double-bill of the Dandy Warhols at Pop’s and the Unconscious at the Duck Room, they are almost too much to process.

For this Wednesday evening, though, we focus only on what’s right in front of us (hey, there’s no game tomorrow morning, let’s grab a drink!) while praying to the gods of broken bones, begging them to take no more victims until basketball season.

1. Have I been writing these under the wrong date, with no one correcting me? Or has the new site caused some type of time shifting? I’m guessing the former Thanks, readers! All four of you are so kind, as to not point out the error of my ways. Corrected, yo.

2. Countdown ’til new Nick Hornby book: four days. Countdown ’til finishing new Nick Hornby book: five days.

3. In the spirit of consistent shilling, there’s a DJ spin by yours truly at The Royale tonight. There’s a bachelorette party potentially rolling through, in case that’s an extra inducement to come on out. And thanks to Mike Tomko for the offer to spin at the Metropolis Lot this weekend, which wasn’t an option due to travel. Think about stopping out to that event.

4. The ghost pepper plant has been yielding results in the past few days and even mentioning them at the bar of Mangia Italiano yesterday casued a ripple of conversation, up-and-down the bar. Brought a few back and various workers singed their taste buds. No restaurant offered the peppers, to date, have committed to making a dish with them. Will alert when someone finally falls for it. And since I’m handing out these wicked things, feel free to bum one. Thanks, Jason Bayer, for the instant conversation starter.

5. Thanks to hyper-prolific Facebook poster James Weber Jr., I’m now familiar with this video, which I’ll watch again and again.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ni_5FeJssK8

Hey, a Friday-themed posting written on Saturday. So slack.

1. Despite evidence being right there in the open, I’ve just figured out that Flickr user plasticfootball = Darren Snow.

2. Last night I spun records for 90-minutes, prior to the Dread Zeppelin show at the Duck Room, a place I’d never had the opportunity to enjoy in that way. If you see me and indicate even a remote interest in hearing about the gig, please know that you’ll get a half-hour version of it, okay?

3. Big thanks to Brian Marston for organizing this week’s Metrpolis Walk in The Ville. Nothing like North City pours, old-schol jukeboxes and truly inexplicable and amusing conversations about race. Loved it! Let’s roll it back out soon, even if no Metropolis members show up (again).

4. Word’s going around that the Majestic Theatre’s been accessed.

5. Thanks to people who’ve listened to the Silver Tray radio show in recent months and thanks, more, for the feedback. There’s been an interesting energy shift on the program lately and it’s due to getting some measure of response. May sound vain, that statement, but knowing that people listen is an incentive to produce a quality gig. In couple days, I’ll note the next five weeks’ musical guests. Rock.

1. Obviously, there’s a bit of changeover occurring here at ThomasCrone.com HQ and things will be in flux for the next week, or so, until the new design is implemented. I’d like to thank the person heading up this massive operation, but don’t know if he would want that. Anyway, I have a feeling that the artists responsible for the 1975 Topps series of baseball cards will find something that they like.

2. Before today, I hadn’t thought about Squeaky Fromme in some time.

3. You gotta plug your friends, esp. when another friend ask you to do so. With just that bit of intro, he’s an even that could deserve your attention: “I hate to again impose on you for you web audience [ed: please, everyone, impose at your wish], but I was wondering, if you’re looking for something to post about, if you could give an event at the Pulitzer a shout-out.  The event is A Marathon Metamorphoses, a 2-day reading of the Metamorphoses. A couple readers I know you’re acquainted with are Stefene Russell and Chris King. The blog for it is http://metamorphoses.pulitzerarts.org, and people can RSVP through our Facebook page, www.facebook.com/pulitzerarts.”

4. For those of you interested in: local rock history, KSHE-95, the bands Pavlov’s Dog and Mama’s Pride and really great haircuts from the ’70s, please consider keeping your evening open on Friday, November 20. Updates to follow here.

5. Heading to the track to bid adieu to Fairmount during this abbreviated season and, possibly, forever. Though chagrined at spending money at a place that has horses competing before becoming part of someone’s dinner (yeesh!), I also will miss this fun, little, quirky, crooked-ass corner of St. Louis’ past and present. After all, a fool and his money…

A wise man recently told me to “increase (my) online audience.” I take these words seriously. So, a new, li’l attempt at a mini-feature, Five for Friday.

1. You have never gardened before. You have a space that’s in need of some natural beautification. Your efforts become so lauded that that the New York Times writes a feature about you (and your gardens) on the cover of its Home section. And you share the learning curve with the world via a blog. You are Kristin Tobiasson. It’s all at: 66squarefeet.

2. Jim Jarmusch has been a hero for some time and “Mystery Train,” though seen only once, would crack my top 10 list any day, as would “Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai,” again a single-view revealation. So it was a joy to finally pick up the man’s first feature, “Permanent Vacation,” since repackaged as part of the “Strangers in Paradise” DVD treatment from Criterion; as well as a solo release. Not exactly a must-see for non-fans, the film does linger in the margins of NYC street culture in the late ’70s, capturing well the grit and grime seen in similar films, such as “Downtown 81“; the teen lead’s beat musings also have a few great moments, though tedious ones are more common. A fun time capsule, if ultimately unsatisfying.

3. JJ’s Sport’s Tap is a bar in Lemay, with shabby signage and an unopen vibe even on a night when the subterranean club is very much in operation. (If “very much” means four people, inc. the bartender, playing a combination of pool and darts.) But you wouldn’t guess there’s a functioning bar from the street, unless you drove into the parking lot and looked down a window well, where a unexpectedly large tavern and game room exists in the operational part of a multi-story house on Bayless. Odd joint: only eight glasses for drinks on the backbar (seriously, eight!); UFC on the TV; the radio tuned to the Arch; and a uber-tan bartender that just. Can’t. Stop. Talking. All in all, a funky little diversion. Not a place to hang every weekend, but a spot to take friends jaded by every other, already-corrupted-by-hipsters corner tavern on the grid. Remember, just head around the back, and down the steps. Don’t forget to ask about the ghosts.

4. Three steps within the doorway of the University City Goodwill store: “Good morning, welcome to Goodwill!” Another step: “Welcome to Goodwill!” And then a few more: “Thanks for shopping at Goodwill!” My goodness, the store’s name doesn’t disappoint. And neither does the price tag of four shirts for $10.35. “Thanks, Goodwill!”

5. Wasn’t around for Kennedy assassinations and I also missed the streetcars getting rocked in Gaslight Square, after the 1964 World Series. I’m old, but not that old. But I do remember walking home from school in eighth grade on the day that Ronald Reagan was shot, hearing the news near the intersection of McKean and Arkansas; and I can specifically recall being in a bar called Frank’s, on MLK Boulevard, the first time I heard Nelly’s “Country Grammar.” Feels like yesterday, but it wasn’t. In fact, whole generations of Metropolis folk have come and gone since The Walk hit Frank’s oh-so-long-ago, on a night when “Country Grammar” lodged in my head for the rest of that summer. But on Thursday, August 20, the MLK Walk is coming back and there’s some hope that Zack’s Lounge lives up to its legendary billing, and that some Metropolis old heads can find sitters for the evening. Wouldn’t miss this one. Nope. No way.