Sky Ferreria's "Night Time, My Time" ... Mind Blowing!

I didn't see this one coming...

I've been listening to Consequence of Sound's Top 50 Albums of 2013 and the one that's caught me off-guard is Sky Ferreria's "Night Time, My Time." (Ranked #49 by CoS)

It's loud, thick, catchy and luscious. Damn. It's not normally my preferred genre, but I can't stop listening to it. Check out "Ain't Your Right" or "Nobody Asked Me (If I Was Okay)."

Christmas Music Overload

It seems like every December I say, "Man. I can't believe it's Christmas season already. I'm totally unready
for this." Last-minute shopping notwithstanding, the other thing that I don't do until too late is listen to Christmas music.

This year, however, was the exact opposite.

I think I was spinning Christmas tunes about one week before Thanksgiving. Unprecedented for me.

So by now, as I write this, let me tell you: I have had my fill of Christmas music in 2013! I've listened to it all this year: classics, rockabilly, country, contemporary and polka. All, and unequivocally, no matter the style, I'm done. No more Christmas music! If I don't hear it again for another 11 months, that will be just fine by me.

Now it's time for some Def Leppard or something. Anything to get these ringing bells out of my head...

Metallica in Antarctica ought to do the trick. It's about as far away from the North Pole as one can get. Plus it's only the second concert to have ever been played on the polar continent!

Thank You, RadioMilwaukee

There was a time when I swore I'd leave the city of Milwaukee. Not because of our brutal winters. Not because of our lousy teams (looking at you, '90s Brewers). Not because of a terrible inner city violent crime rate (hey, all cities have this; we gotta figure this one out together). But because the radio stations populating our airwaves in the final decade of last century catered to the dependable but unadventurous masses.

The stations didn't reflect me or my interests. They didn't reflect risk-taking. They didn't reflect the city Milwaukee was to blossom into -- a progressive city willing to step out of the shadow of Chicago and become its own thing (again).

Then along came 88Nine RadioMilwaukee and saved the day. Just take a look at their 25 most spun songs of 2013. It's great. Oh sure, I don't love every song listed here, but Little Green Cars, McCartney, Jake Bugg, The National, Beck, and City and Colour are some of my favorites. It's not always about liking every song -- it's about being exposed to something new. Also, though only one local band made this list (Volcano Choir), they play "Milwaukee Music" like Vic and Gab's fun new album. Stuff you wouldn't hear anywhere else.

I am very grateful RadioMilwaukee is now on my FM dial, 'cause I really didn't feel like moving anyways.

And don't get me wrong, there's wrong with belting out "Don't Stop Believin' " or snake-dancing to "Welcome to the Jungle" every now and then, but after 20 years, that stuff can get a bit tiring.

Rock on, RadioMilwaukee, and Merry Christmas!

Fire Packers Coach Mike McCarthy? That's Crazy Talk.

I love sports ... but hate sports fans.

Under Mike McCarthy, the Packers are 81-45-1 with five playoff appearances and a Super Bowl win. Yet I hear (see) Packers fans clamoring "FIRE McCARTHY!"

Are they nuts? The biggest problem is, as Packers fans, we've become so accustomed to success that an injury-plagued, .500 season is deemed a failure and we demand someone be held accountable.
That's just dumb. McCarthy has earned the right to have a mediocre season for a change. The four years prior to this season all ended with double-digit victory totals.

I'll stick with Mike, thank you very much.

Hans Solo or Chewbacca? You Decide, Kid.

I heard the best example of teaching kids the value of money tonight. It was told to me by Gene, who was seated immediately to my right at Barley's Taproom in Asheville, North Carolina.

The story, as told by Gene...

"I remember...it was 1978. I had been saving up my coins for months to buy a Star Wars figurine. When we finally went to the store to pick 'em out, Mom looked at my savings and said, 'You only have enough money to buy Hans Solo or Chewbacca--you don't have enough money to buy them both.'"

"But, but, but, Mom," I said. "Hans and Chewbacca have to stay together. They belong together. They're partners!"

Mom, relentless, replied, "I'm sorry, Gene. It's either one or the other. You have to choose. If you want the other, you'll have to save up your allowance and come back in a few months to complete the set."

"Aww, Mom. I thought you could pick up what I'm short!"

"No, Gene. I'll clothe you. I'll feed you. I'll provide you shelter and love you, but if it's something you want, you'll have to save up for it yourself."

Total daggers to the chest, right? Was Gene's mom cruel? Was she cheap? Was she strapped? Or was she just teaching her child, Gene, a valuable life lesson of work and reward? (It was a good lesson--35 years later, Gene still remembers!)

Based on the quality guy Gene seemed to be, I'd say the latter.

Anyway, Gene's mom's plans worked. He went with the Chewbacca and returned about two months later and purchased Chewbacca's sidekick, Hans Solo.

Lesson learned. Gene kept working through his 40s and now owns the whole set--Jar Jar Binks included!

And now, because it's Christmas season, here's something completely annoying ...

You Better Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself

I was only a Photoshop beginner when I crafted this homage of my pal, Bruce, imposed upon the late, great Bob Ross -- the creator and host of "The Joy of Painting." Being the last day of Movember -- a month dedicated to the growth of facial hair to raise awareness of men's health issues -- it was only fitting to post it before month's end. After all, Mr. Ross. passed from Lymphoma, a type of cancer that, while deadly, can have its effects mitigated if detected early.

Fellows, in good health and friendship, let's pledge to get regular checkups and indulge robustly, but smartly. It shouldn't take furry faces to make us aware of the risks that challenge our health and spirit.

For more information, visit the Movember website, whether it be the 11th month of the year or any other day, let's keep healthy.

In good health and in beer, your pal,

Mike

Sara Santiago is Not a Dick

The last day of 2009 was supposed to be a great one. Instead it went horribly wrong.

To ring in the New Year, my wife, Kay, and I arranged to see Spoon in concert at Milwaukee's Riverside Theater. The night started out great. We had a few drinks in Wauwatosa before taking the bus downtown. We planned ahead -- there would be no driving; however much we chose to celebrate, we would be taking a taxi home.

Not too long after our arrival at the theater, Kay's asthma flared up. Now I've known Kay a long time, 25 years approximately, and I've seen her exhibit the symptoms of asthma that I knew were devastating to her as a child. But for the most part, I considered her flare-ups no more of a setback than a runny nose or scratchy throat. Since I don't suffer from asthma, I'm sure I'm selling her suffering short, but Kay's episodes prior to this evening were usually pretty minimal.

We rocked through the opening set by garage rocker Jay Reatard (who would untimely perish only 14 days later) and most of Spoon's set. Late in the show, Kay's attack was severe, though, to the extent I was not fully aware. She excused herself to the restroom.

As the show rollicked along with balloon drops and toasts to the New Year, I began to get frantic. Where was Kay? Why hasn't she returned? Why won't she answer her phone? Why can't I get a mobile call through? (Turns out, everybody calls everybody at midnight as the year turns and mobile networks crumble under the weight.)

I left my seat to find her, but unfortunately, the show ends and the masses head for the exits. I finally spy Kay, she's semi-slumped over in corner in the lobby. She's not well and struggling for every breath. I run outside to look for a cab, but there's not a cab to be had. The few that Milwaukee has are being filled with New Year's Eve revelers. I am left with no choice but to call an ambulance.

Within minutes we're in an ambulance in front of the theater. Kay gets hooked up to oxygen while paramedics check her vitals. Seconds later we're whisked off to Froedtert Hospital in Wauwatosa.

Talk about an expensive ride back home. I left the hospital in the bitter cold and walk to tosa's village where I left my car. I return home for an hour to get some stuff, but return to the hospital to bring Kay home at about 5 a.m.

What a way to welcome 2010.

But of all that bad, there was some good.

As I posted an update or two about the trauma my little family was experiencing, it was caught by our friend, Sara Santiago. Sara knows a lot about asthma and has suffered from it for decades too. She called and volunteered assistance: medication, a nebulizer, friendship, whatever. She wanted to help. I told her that we could certainly use the nebulizer, and that Kay was familiar with the device from when she was a child, but didn't own one as an adult. I said I'd be on my way to pick up the device shortly.

Sara flatly refused. "I'm on my way, Mike. Don't you dare leave Kay's side."

So on a bitterly cold January 1, 2010, when families are together and enjoying each other's warm company, Sara journeyed out alone from her Bay View home to bring us this most helpful and potentially life-saving device. I won't ever forget that. I'm sure Kay won't either.

Now that's friendship.

Thank you, Sara, for all that you are. I was happy to read the OnMilwaukee spotlight article this morning and see a fitting tribute to your everlasting awesomeness. We are happy to call you friend, and if you ever need ANYTHING that we can help you with, please don't hesitate to ask.

So you see, Sara Santiago is definitely not a dick, but her husband, Augie, on the other hand ... ;)