Hickville, heat, and late statement on "hiatus"

The other day, in my daily news summary email from one of the news stations in Portland, there was an item that caught my eye because it mentioned the area where I grew up. There was a burglary at one of the country stores that dot the area around where my parents live and the store owner took things into his own hands and went after the burglars with a shotgun. Besides the clinical language of the police report, the whole story is just so backwoods. But that's where I grew up. I know this store; it's hardly 5 minutes drive from my parents' house. And as you can see from the photo, it looks like something out of a Western. I think the walkway in front of the store is even made of wooden planks. And of course the owner had a shotgun. That's pretty much a given.

If you are in the Netherlands, then I don't need to talk to you about the heat. Actually, if you're in the US, or anywhere in Europe, I probably don't need to talk to you about it either. Portland has temperatures over 100 F this weekend. Amsterdam is a bit cooler at the moment, if you can use cooler to mean "not as hot as 36 C, but still over 30 C." Our house is just unendingly stuffy. It's not cool enough at night to try to draw in some fresh air then. Fortunately we got two fans from O's mom because without them there's just no air moving in the house. A fan has certainly helped me sleep the past few nights, though I still hardly need a sheet on me. I've been going through glass after glass of tropical punch KoolAid. It's been warm for nearly the entire month of July, minus some cooler days in the week after we got back from Spain. I don't think I've seen it be warm here for so long, and it's meant to be hot for at least the next week. An actual proper summer, though I'd be happier if we had air conditioning.

I am very late with this, but when I found out about it I was too busy to write anything about it, and then we went to Spain, and then I was lazy, and well... But I felt I really should write something about one of my favourite bands, who've been around for over 10 years, breaking up. Sleater-Kinney announced an "indefinite hiatus" at the end of June and I felt gutted, though not as gutted as I could have felt. After we saw the band in Brussels in May I admit that, because things didn't seem right between them, I had thoughts that this was a precursor to them breaking up. But I didn't think they actually would, I thought I was just overreacting, especially since their shows in the UK seemed to go well. But then it actually happened. Crap. Way more than "crap"; more like "oof", as in the "oof" of being hit in the stomach. Despite their having been around for so long, it felt like it was too soon. Their last two albums in particular have been so good, it just seemed that they couldn't quit now, they had to make more great albums that were even better than the last. And I had to see them play in Portland one more time. They are playing their last shows in Portland, in August, at the Crystal Ballroom, where I last saw them play in the US. I'm devastated that I can't be there. I'm pissed that the last time I got to see them live was that off show in Brussels with the lame crowd. But I can't change geography... I became an S-K fan when I bought Dig Me Out in April of 1997, about a week before I planned to see them live because I'd heard a lot about them. The first few times I saw them live, despite their growing popularity and Greil Marcus declaring them the best rock band in the US, tickets for the shows, always at the beloved La Luna, were only sold at the door and usually cost about 5 bucks. I remember sitting in front of La Luna the 2nd or 3rd time I went to see Sleater-Kinney play, sitting on the ground waiting for the doors to open, and next to me a girl was explaining the band to the boy with her: "It's three women: two guitarists and a drummer." "Wait, there's no bassist?" "Nope." "How can you not have a bassist?" "They just don't." With Carrie and Corin's guitar lines pounding and weaving together, a bassist was not missed. And dear Janet was the most fun drummer to watch, ever. Some shows were better than others, especially once their massive popularity associated with Dig Me Out died down, but they never disappointed. I remember, at probably the last show I saw of theirs in Portland, semi-stumbling and weaving my way back to the merchandise table, in a bit of a daze still from the concert. When I got back there, I ran into Lance Bangs, Corin's husband, who I had just spoken to after the show because I sort of knew him via email. I was hot and puffing my shirt in and out in an attempt to cool off and I told him, "Tell the band that their shows are the best anywhere. I never rock out at other shows like I do with Sleater-Kinney." I don't know if he actually passed that message on, but I really meant what I said. And was Greil Marcus right, are (were?) they, still, the best rock band in America? Probably. Not many out there can beat their honesty, integrity, power, and downright rockiness. Sleater-Kinney, you are leaving a big hole in the musical landscape, and you will be sorely missed.