I'm as happy as a little girl! Coming soon (Nov. 5, to be exact), is the complete My So-Called Life (19 episodes) on DVD. I preordered it as a pre- and post-birthday present for myself.

Counting the bloody days. Anybody coming over to watch it with me? *grin*

This weekend I got to see Fairport Convention! So what, you say. So what indeed.

Fairport Convention has been around since 1967 in England, and they were pretty much the first band to bring traditional music and rock music together. 20-some-odd people have moved in and out of the band over that time, but they still remain intact. They host a festival yearly at a farm in Oxfordshire that draws 20,000 or more people.

But think about it. Without them, there'd be no Richard Thompson (he started out his musical career with them). There'd be no Ashley MacIsaac, no Great Big Sea, no Pogues, etc., etc.

Anyway, it was an evening road trip to Flagstaff for me and my friend Mike, reacquanting ourselves with the college-and-railroad town where he and I first became friends. There, in a small auditorium, the band cranked up the amperage (despite their almost entirely acoustic instrumentation) and poured out some really old songs and tunes, some brand new ones and a small portion of some in-betweens.

Cool as shit, funny as all get-out and radiating the kind of professionalism that only long years of experience can produce. I had a blast.

I also enjoyed being able to see the stars even while still in town, thanks to Flagstaff's precedent-setting anti-light-pollution practices and ordinances. Beautiful still, even after its explosive growth in recent years.

The drive back was tiresome, though.

'Twas a good night tonight. My friend Richard finally prevailed upon me to ignore the many things I had to do and take some time out to hang out with him.

We went to Rosie McCaffrey's, which faithful readers may remember I visited upon their opening this past St. Patrick's Day. Had a good time chatting and drinking Guiness and listening to the band, a local Celtic band called Blackwood that had as a guest someone who took me back a few years.

In the good old days, when Devine Celtic Sounds was new and we used to be involved more heavily in the local Celtic music scene, we used to hang out at the Dubliner pub where frequently played Celtic Pride, a husband and wife duo. They left Phoenix some years past, leaving memories of smoky pubs, a covet-worthy red Rickenbacher bass and "The Unicorn Song." The husband part, Tom Teven, a Scot with a fantastic voice and broad if fairly predictable repertoire, was the guest this evening.

The band itself was surprisingly good, especially the fiddler, who I think I recognized from the most notable local Celtic rock band Claire Voyants. It was a good time. I recommend getting out and letting the hair down (what's left since my shearing last week, anyway) every so often.

Feeling ultra-faggy today, courtesy of my new haircut and my clingy ribbed gray shirt. Yay. Go me!