the Connecticut Yankee

Last night I headed out to the Connecticut Yankee to kill three birds with one stone. It was a big stone. The CY is out in Potrero Hill, which to me in the Inner Sunset seems real far away.

The CY is a freaking cool bar. Its small, and all wood. A very mellow place. Seems sorta like a locals sports bar, as they have a couple TV’s showing baseball and such. Its got lots of great beer on Tap (including Poppy Jasper, which has become one of my favorites) . I was planning on meeting up with my friend/co-worker John O’Duinn, who has been traveling around the world as of late having more adventures then I could possible handle. He’s about to head off to Burning Man. Its ridiculous. Which brings me to a nice Burning Man tangent.

The last 4 years, I’ve made my summer pilgrimage to Burning Man. It has changed my life. There’s no place like it. As Josh Cohen said succinctly: “This has got to be one of the top 10 things to do in the world”. I feel like I got a little burned out (no pun intended) last year. It rather consumes my summer, or at least the second half of it. So I’m taking this year off. I’m rather focused on music as it is, so I’m pretty happy about my decision. I figured at this point I would start seriously regretting it, and run out and buy a ticket. There’s been none of that. Hopefully this will dramatically increase my excitement for next year.

Anywho, I’m chillin at this cool bar. I read my Spencer book. There’s a small stage, and there’s gonna be a bunch of local jamband players doing a couple sets. Just as I finish my book, they dim the lights. John shows up. Music starts. These guys are pretty freaking good. Doing a bunch of covers – some Dead, Allman Bros, etc. They have the sax player from Rat Dog playing with them. He’s sick. He must be able to circular breath or something. Its getting pretty rockin in there. There’s maybe 15-20 people in the bar. Very cool little scene. A sports bar that has jam band music. I can dig it. I feel like I’m really participating in SF music culture. I’m definitely getting my $5 worth.

At set break I go and talk to the guitar player. He’s freaking amazing, and seems like a real nice guy. I solicit him to work on some General Fuzz material. Maybe something will happen. Stay tuned.

John and I have a chance to catch up. I’m in awe of his life. Sounds like he’s turning it around to be a very positive place. I’m totally psyched for him. My big news is that I just found out that I’ll be doing a long General Fuzz set @ the Oracle World appreciation party. How freaking ironic/awesome is that? I got this gig totally outside of Oracle – through Brad, the duder that Stina worked with for the ArtsFest events. Of course, nothing's 100 percent till a contract is signed.

I soak in some more music. Not the most observant person, I start actually looking at some of the sports pictures on the wall. Hey, there’s a big picture of Big Pappi, my next door neighbor in Newton. Wait, that whole wall is pictures of Red Sox players, interspersed with newspaper cut outs from the day they won the World Series. Its a freaking shrine. An entire wall dedicated to that day. Then I look at some of the other picutres around the bar – the Bruins, Celtics, etc. Riiiiiight – the Connecticut Yankee. Of course. A New England Sports Bar, that happens to be on Connecticut St. That has cheap, quality, live music, good food, and a fantastic selection of taps. I might have to venture down there more often.

Its 1am, I’m gonna jet, but then the band launches into Gumbo. So I stay for one more song, and shake my groove thang. I mean, shit, I can’t leave during Gumbo.

Sweet sweet Gumbo.