Happy St. Stephen’s Day!

It was five years ago today that I took this pic during Budapest’s annual celebration of their famous saint’s birthday, which also marks the foundation of the Hungarian state a millennia ago.

The irony, of course, is that I was watching these fireworks with Steven Spielberg (or Saint Steven as I like to call him) and his family from their balcony at the Four Seasons Hotel Gresham Palace.  The experience was a tad surreal to say the least…

Our last morning in the Boundary Waters, I was rewarded for getting up early by finding Sawbill Lake covered in an eerie blanket of fog.

In my nearly 30 years of going up to Sawbill, I never once even heard of such a thing as a “dome dance”, much less attended one.  But apparently, every summer, the good folks at the Sawbill Canoe Outfitters host a dance in their dome, and they invite any and all staying in the campground to come and join in on the fun.  And that’s just what we did.

When we arrived, the dome (where the outfitters used to store most of their rental equipment) was already alive with music from the four-piece band, as a “caller” led the group of dancers through a mix of Swedish & Irish folk songs.  Of course, we went into it thinking we’d just be wallflowers, drinking our cans of beer whilst sitting a safe distance away from any actual dancing.  But we probably weren’t even there a full three minutes, when the caller instructed the dancers to find new partners, and the next thing we knew, two cute Sawbill employees were inviting my brother and I to dance.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I had a blast, do si do-ing around the room, er dome.  It was next to impossible not to smile the whole time, and it got even better when we volunteered my dad and his buddy to take our places for the next dance (that’s them above frolicking around in a circle with their arms in the air).  Good times…

“It is good to have an end to journey toward;
but it is the journey that matters, in the end”

-Ursula K. LeGuin

The day before we arrived to the Boundary Waters, we were very saddened to hear that Frank Hansen, the founder of the Sawbill Canoe Outfitters (back in 1957), passed away at the age of 89 after being diagnosed just a few weeks earlier with acute leukemia.  Hearing this news, I could not help but think of my grandfather and the decades-long friendship he and Frank had.  Every summer, for over 40 years, my grandpa returned to Sawbill with his family, and I know he always looked forward to catching up with Frank on what had transpired over the 11 months since they seen each other last.

While it’s really sad that both men are gone now, the legacy they leave behind in this incredible place is so tangible, that being there, it’s impossible not to feel to their presence close by.  And if there is a heaven above, I’d like to think that these two guys are sitting out on the porch together, talking about where the fish are biting…

Of course, no trip to Sawbill would be complete without a visit to the scene of the crime.

Solaced with the echo, the hallowed echo,
the echo of the northern loon…

- Terry-Lynn Johnson

It’s hard to believe that it’s been four years since I last visited Sawbill, but thank god I finally got back up there.  A piece of my soul most definitely resides in this incredible place, and even just a few days in the Boundary Waters last week, went a long way to making me feel whole again.

Well Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose
Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes
He asked poor Howard where can I go
Howard said there’s only one place I know
Sam said tell me quick man I got to run
Ol’ Howard just pointed with his gun
And said that way down on Highway 61

- Bob Dylan

The end is the beginning…

Figured I’d start with a pic from the end of my trip back to the Midwest last week, a journey that was capped off with a full day of live music in Chicago’s Grant Park.  ie. Lollapalooza.

It was my third time attending the fest, the first coming 16 years ago when it was still a traveling show, which I caught at the then World Music Theatre in Tinley Park.  God, just writing out 16 years sends a shiver down my spine.  It’s crazy to contemplate that I was half as old as I am now, just a naive high school kid moshing on the grassy hillside to the Beastie Boys and Smashing Pumpkins. Growing older is a strange thing indeed…

But I was all too happy to play the old dude in the crowd as Sunday’s lineup was seemingly programmed just for me and my musical tastes.  By literally just turning around in the grassy lawn of the two kitty-corner, North-end stages, I was able to see four of my current favorite bands, and none failed to disappoint.  Be it the San Franciso rockers, The Dodos, who were joined for a couple tracks by friend of the band Neko Case; The National, a group I’ve wanted to see ever since stumbling onto their incredible album “Boxer”; Arcade Fire, need I say more, though it was great to hear some of the new tracks off their just released album.

But the highlight of the day was definitely reserved for Mumford & Sons (seen above…kind of).  I was most excited of all to see this band from West London, having heard from more than a few people how incredible these dudes are in concert.  And man, are they incredible.  I’m already counting down the days till they come back through LA in October to see them again, and fortunately, this time I won’t have to sweat my ass off in the brutal Chicago heat and humidity!