Posted by The Cajun Grocer

I own the only Ron Kittle Authentic Jersey. Period.

Well that settled that.  The lack of excitement that I haphazardly threw in the face of baseball fans Friday morning before last weekend’s Sox – Cubs throw down at US Cellular Field changed rapidly once I was fully entrenched in all of the pre-game activity that occurred both Friday and Sunday, the two days I was lucky enough to attend.

The tailgating atmosphere outside the Cell before games is preferable to the bar situation outside Wrigley.  Mostly because you generally don’t have to stand in a puddle of indeterminable liquid goo or rub against a hefty, Old Style swilling man with his Cubs Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to his belly button.

Not to mention you get treated to the exceptional musical flavor served up by Chicago local rock band Boho Paisley, good friends of Loop Apparel.  That and attending the game with an entertaining personality like the Flash.  Yes, the Flash.  That was what I referred to a female whom I met for the first time on Friday and who accompanied us to the game.  I’m not sure that I need to spell this out, but her nickname is directly derived from her propensity to shamelessly flash just about anyone who would care to have a gander in public.  Pretty much every 10 minutes or so.  So we had that going for us on Friday.

Being a guest of an employee of Miller Lite afforded me a tour de force of the Cell’s amenities.  From the pregame patio, with free food and beer to the Miller Lite party deck, with free food and beer (a theme I could never tire of) I was spoiled by everything but a White Sox winner on Friday.  Alas, no better way to rebound from a White Sox loss then by meeting friends and staying at Beaumont’s until 4 am.  You read that correctly.

For those of you non-Chicagoans, Beaumont’s is a late night Chicago haunt typically inhabited by socialites in the age range of 18 – 23.  I myself had not entered thru those gates of youth since I was 24 at least, 4 years ago.   I stand by our choice of venues, if only for the exhibitionist style acts of intimacy occurring on the dance floor, and the overall chachiness (apparently that’s not a real world) of the 22 year old dudes who frequent this locale.  Memories.

Saturday greeted me with my first high rise pool experience of the summer.  Getting the call from a friend, arming myself with a case of beer and an urge to disrupt a family’s pool time with an Anchorman style cannonball, the stage was set.

I did indeed rise to the challenge of rocking a family’s boat with an alcohol fueled cannonball complete with Rob Burgundy style preemptive speech.  Is it bad that that was the highlight of my weekend?  I say no.

Sunday marked the final game of the Cross-town and one last chance for me to prove my ability to rebound from a full day and night of alcohol consumption only to lace up my shoes for one more go at it.  I succeeded and ran into the pleasant fellow pictured below in the process.  This is why people watching at Sox games is unmatched and 100% guaranteed to be a great time. 

Well played sir. Well played indeed.

After another day of beers and baseball, my body was not quite ready to quit on me…a friend of mine was having a birthday gathering at her house on Sunday evening and I had indicated that I would make an appearance.  I could not disappoint, so I trudged on like a soldier refusing to stop marching.  Like Joey Chestnut on his 72^nd Hot Dog during Nathan’s Infamous Hot Dog eat off.  Like Hosea fighting to the bitter end of last season’s Top Chef (you all know damn well you’re addicted to Top Chef too.  Don’t lie).  I fought on.

All in all the breakdown of being out with a beer in hand at all times this weekend breaks down like this:

Friday – 12:30 pm – 3:30 am

Saturday – 1 pm – 3:30 am

Sunday – 12:30 pm – 9:30 pm

I’m not too keen on adding up all of those hours as it’s frightening.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I fucking love this town.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

The feeling one might associate if he or she were to be in a situation in which they have to mutter the title of this post is sort of the way I’m currently feeling about the absence of any sort of excitement for this weekends White Sox/Cubs series.

It’s an eery, unsettling feeling and it’s making me act more cautious about my own personal level of excitment for this weekend…I haven’t engaged in one single White Sox - Cubs argument this entire season.  This is more rare than a sigthing of the Loch Ness Monster.

I can’t possibly be the only avid sports fan who is experiencing this shocking development in what has previously been a fiery, venom filled rivalry between both the teams and the fans.  Now it seems as though we just don’t give a shit. 

Michael Jackson dying yesterday doesn’t help the already overlooked 3 day battle in the South Side.  However, it does give me the opportunity to turn on the radio with a 27% chance of hearing my favorite Jackson 5 ditty of all time, “I Want You Back.”  So I have that going for me, which is nice.

My point is that the unbelievable has occured in this normally baseball obsessed town, that the Crosstown Classic is being outshined by both NBA basketball and of course the Chicago Cutlers, er Bears.

I’ve had far more NBA draft related conversations this week than I have had to run through the aging gambit of Cubs fan insults to spit and the “you like the Sox?  You’re white trash, where are your jorts?  can you read?” questions I have to rebut.  To Cubs fans wearing pink polo shirts with collars popped, drinking Mai Tais no less.

Well fuck it.  I’m going to the Sox game this afternoon and on Sunday afternoon and I fully intend on doing my part to recharge this rivalry with some much needed spice in a positive manner.  This includes good hearted heckling during moments when the stadium is quiet enough for it to be heard in multiple sections.  This involves reminding Cubs players of the mistakes they’ve made crudely, Geovany Soto just admitted a failed test for the marijuana.  We’ll have a field day with that. 

Want to join in the quest to revive the rivalry?  See you at the stadium.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

If you live in Chicago, enjoy imbibing alcoholic beverages for free and have nothing to do this fine, hellishly hot Wednesday evening then stop what you’re doing right now and click on this link:

thrillist.com/oldschool

Why you say?  Look no further than this smashingly designed poster from Thrillist, the recent editor of which is a good friend and contributor to Loop Apparel’s public relations efforts, Matt Lynch.

There really are no catches, nothing you have to pay, nothing that you have to do other than clicking on that link and getting your name on a list that will allow you to enjoy the spoils of three hours of open bar while taking in the atmosphere of what is suspiciously one of Vince Vaughn’s favorite Chicago haunts, The Holiday Club.  I know not all of you have air conditioning and I don’t think I’m making too bold an assumption that you would prefer to park yourself somewhere that has an ample supply this eve.

That is unless you enjoy sitting in tropical like conditions while puddles of perspiration form around and on you.  I mean, it’s a toss up but I think I’d opt for the former. 

If you can’t get out to enjoy free booze for no good reason with no consequence depending on how rowdy you’re liable to get with an open bar then I can’t help you anymore.  We’re through.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

Today I’ll be regaling you with stories from a ridiculously fun wedding that I had the pleasure of attending this past weekend which included 6 hours of dangerously intoxicating open bar. 

You can’t find a better drunken atmosphere than at a wedding.  It’s the pinnacle of happy drunkenness in every way imaginable. 

This wedding reception being no different, a grand time was had by all this past Saturday evening at the Harold Washington Library located in downtown Chicago.  Weddings consistently supply me with an incredible amount of entertainment and usually the same can be said about me providing the other guests of the wedding a uniquely entertaining experience…particularly when the dance floor has been opened for business but that’s another can of worms altogether.

This wedding featured the strangest 3-4 minute span that I have experienced to date and that is not an exaggeration.   At one point during the reception while taking a break from the whirlwind of action going on around me on all sides, I found myself refilling my Ketel and Soda at the bar, standing by myself responding to a text message that I had just received when I noticed the presence of a woman standing very close directly on my left. 

As I completed and fired off the text message I looked up into the face of a woman, or Liger as the case was (you’ll recall my breakdown of large female predators and Liger is 55 and older), whom I did not recognize.  I’m not good at guessing ages of anyone really but I would put her in a range of 60-65ish.  The woman was not just standing next to me, she was staring at me.  Intently.

“Hello?” I said.

“I’m just watching you send a text” she said.

“Ohhhhhkay, how’s that going for you?” I said.

She did not reply to that question, at least not verbally.  However, she did lightly tap/slap me across the face as one might do in a joking/affectionate manner.  That’s all fine and dandy except for the fact that I didn’t know this woman…and she was 65!  My reaction was less than tactful as I unleashed a high pitched scream, like a school girl might if she were watching a horror movie, and ran away.  Literally ran.

As I was making my escape from the Liger I ran directly into a young lady who had actually been my pledge daughter from my good ol’ Fraternity days of yore. 

For those of you who did not have a Greek experience in college the pledge father/daughter relationship is one based solely on one night of going out and getting drunk as a “pledge family” complete with Mom, Dad and Daughter.  That’s it.  There really is not much more substance to it than that which is on par with all things fraternity related.

That being said, it was surprising enough running into her as the time elapsed since the last time I saw her, or talked about pledge anything for that matter, is significant. Significant to the point where I really didn’t remember her name, a development that wasn’t really made clear until someone actually called her “Sara.”  Upon running into her she told me she had noticed that I was at the wedding earlier, she was there with her parents and they wanted to meet her pledge dad!  What parents wouldn’t want to meet a pledge dad….6 years after graduation.

Ummmm, I’m not sure that being a pledge dad carries any significance now at the age of 28…but what the hell I figured, I’m a polite person. 

Keep in mind this is all just minutes after the Liger attack, for timeline reference purposes.

Well whilst speaking with my pledge daughter’s parents, I was also introduced to a friend of hers at the very same time.  She seemed like a nice girl and we were having a rather compelling conversation about the tropic like conditions of the wedding service and the wonderful atrium style room we were in when out of the blue, in front of the parents that I was still trying to maintain a workable conversation with she blurted out, “so when are we going to dinner?”

What the fuck is going on here?!  In a matter of 3-4 minutes I escaped a Liger, ran into a pledge daughter, met her parents and was asked to take a girl on a date…by that girl.  That easily qualifies as the most bizarre chain of events to occur in rapid sequence at a wedding that I can recall.  The fact that it was later followed by me leading the entire dance floor in coordinated clapping and fist pumping is just icing on the cake. 

After all, a wedding dance floor is a little bit like Vegas.  Anything goes, no one remembers who’s responsible for what, and you’re going to encounter people of all ages and walks of life.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

Been there.

Now this is an intriguing topic of discussion as Allie B. and I continue sharing our perspectives on the always evolving world of dating and relationships as everyone and anyone who has ever been in a relationship can relate to the meeting of the family.

At some point you will meet the friends and family members of the girl or guy that you are dating.  The question is, how significant a sign is meeting the family and more importantly, why does it sometimes seem more awkward than balancing a stack of plates on one finger of each hand whilst attempting to traverse a high wire? 

So I’ll first tackle the how significant portion of the two part question there, really where does that leave a relationship once the family is involved?

What typically happens from a guy’s perspective, given that he performs his duty up to snuff in meeting the family which I’m going to admit is easier for us than it is for girls and I’ll touch on that later, is an increased number of family functions to which you are now expected to attend.  Quite frankly if you leave a good impression on the parents of your significant other you are going to be asked to attend more parties, dinners, what have you because if you are not in attendance a barrage of “where’s Ryan” awaits.  The pressure placed on the girlfriend to answer to that question will quickly be shifted to the guy so that no one has to either ask, or answer “where’s Ryan?” 

In a nutshell, the meeting of the parents puts you that much closer to “we status.”  You all know the we status, it’s a subtle change, it doesn’t happen overnight or all at once but it snowballs.  I blame it on the fact that the word “you” can be used as singular or plural to the point that a girl asking another girl, “what are you doing this weekend?”  can easily be replied to with a “we’re going to a nice dinner tonight” and so on.  I’d say that makes it a pretty significant point of a relationship.  Meeting the family accelerates the “We” transformation. 

So knowing the meeting is going to have an forceful impact on the relationships going forward, why is it sometimes such an odd experience and how do you avoid the awkwardness as a guy?

It’s quite simple really.  At this point when we meet the Father of a girlfriend, he’s really gotten past the whole “I’m meeting you for the first time and judging by how often my daughter talks about you I can concede the fact that you’re probably having sex with her” spiel.  Two men who have just been introduced to each other don’t want to launch right into a topic that will make both of them as comfortable as acupuncture.  This is why the meeting of the parents for a guy is less demanding than it is for a girl.  When talking to the girl’s Father we go through the man list of conversational options starting with what we know the most about and moving on.  It’s a preset list which varies for every man.

This list usually begins and ends with sports.  We have the golden egg right there.  97% of Dad’s can talk about sports even if they’re really not into it.  Why?  It can cover all the grounds.  If you like the Sox and he likes the Cubs for instance, which is the case the vast majority of the time for me, you can break the ice by lightly poking fun at his favored team while being able to compliment those jabs with staunch support and knowledge of your favored team.  Once guys starting making fun of each other forget about it, it’s over.  A bond has been formed.

When we meet the mother of our girlfriend it’s pretty much a matter of eating every morsel of food that is presented to you and complimenting, but not over complimenting, and asking them questions about everything.  Her family, where she’s originally from, how her daughter acted growing up, what type of cheeses are in the lasagna she made, and so on.  This shows an impressive interest level on your part and opens up the conversation to potentially comical anecdotes about the family which can then involve everyone.

This is also a fantastic tactic to prevent the barrage of “Mom Questions” that everyone has to deal with.  Even if it’s not your own Mom.  You know damn well what I’m talking about.  Those Mom questions are the reason why I believe that girls actually have it harder when it comes to meeting the family than guys do.  Guys enjoy joking around and grab assing, it’s what we do.  Women tend to prod and poke and seek out information like it’s an inquisition.  The conversation is labor intensive from a mental standpoint, you have to be on your toes and it can go on for hours.  I give kudos to girls for withstanding the mom question attack, it’s relentless and as it goes typically a girlfriend will have to put in a lot of time with the mom and the boyfriend with the dad.  That’s just the way it goes. 

I have encountered some incredibly unique parent introductions over the years and I would be remiss to not share one of them.  Shortly after graduating from college in December, I was still romantically involved with a girl whom not only was still in college but was studying abroad in France that next semester.  Having money burning a hole in my pocket and nothing else on the docket (am I rapping?) I decided a trip to France was in order.  Why not?

The girl at the time had a request for me, could I retrieve her laptop from her parents and bring it across the ocean to her?  Sure I said, I’m a people pleaser.

Because the distance to her house from mine was not short, we arranged to have me intersect her parents at a half way point so that I could get the laptop and be on my way to Europe.  A date, time and place were set and everyone was happy.

That is until I realized that the place I was meeting them was next to a funeral home, and the time was smack dab in the middle of a post funeral family gathering.  I essentially was introduced to the entire extended family of my girlfriend at the time while they were grieving the passing of a loved one.  Ummmm, what in the name of Thor’s Hammer is a guy supposed to do there? 

Imagine as I’m just trying to get the laptop and not intrude on the private family affair and the Mom, with whom I had developed good rapport by following the aforementioned guidelines, was aggressively leading me around the room and introducing me to every cousin, nephew, niece and employee she could find.  Meanwhile I’m trying to get over the fact that someone related to these people had just died!  What the fuck am I doing talking about my college education and impeding employment at Club Med?  A more awkward family introduction I’ve yet to encounter. 

The moral of the story is, ask questions and dole out compliments.  You stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese. (Source of last line: Coach Bobby Finstock, Teen Wolf)

Posted by Allie B.

Relationships can be a wonderful thing. Falling in love is amazing and finding the person you’re truly meant to be with is unparalleled as far as life experiences go.Unfortunately, relationships can also be a pain in the ass. Because when the time comes, no matter how much you love and care about someone, there is no guarantee you’re going to feel the same way about their family and eventually, you’re going to have to meet them.

Generally, the parental introductions take place at some point around the six-month mark. By then, you should have a pretty good idea as to whether or not you’d like to continue dating someone exclusively, and you should also have stopped sleeping with other people. Once you’ve gotten these minor issues out of the way, it’s time to schedule a meeting of the minds and then prepare yourself for something that’s a cross between a job interview and an inquisition. That means you need to cover your tattoos, take out your lip ring, and temporarily remove the word “fuck” from your vocabulary. You may want to have a headshot, resume and stool sample handy, in case they ask. Oh, and if you’re going to their house, and they drink, bring wine. You’re going to need it. If they don’t drink, baked goods will suffice…and you should probably still bring a flask.

When I first started dating at the age of fifteen, my father (bless his heart) demanded that each of my suitors come into our house and shake his hand. But after the first dozen schmucks passed through the revolving door that was my dating life, that practice was quickly abandoned. Now my dad would rather not meet anyone unless I think I’m going to marry them. Simply put, the man is getting old, and he no longer has the volition, or the memory space, to recall the names of all the guys I’ve slept with. Sometimes I have difficulty keeping them straight myself.

My mother is on the same page. Though she hung in there a lot longer than my father did, she has since grown tired of getting attached to guys who are really only making a cameo in my love life. I don’t blame her. I feel the same way. Unfortunately, a lot of parents don’t share their views, and that’s why I’ve been forced to meet quite a few Fockers in my lifetime. 

The good thing about meeting your partner’s parents is that it gives you a better understanding of the person you’re dating by seeing where (and who) they came from. The bad thing about this is that if their family turns out to be insane, then there’s a chance this trait will rear its ugly head at some point in your relationship.

Luckily, I’ve met plenty of parents who are actually pretty cool. They accept what I do for a living (marketing for Hooters) and they don’t judge me for it. All they seem to care about is that their son likes me and that I make him happy. This is the best case scenario. On the other hand, I’ve also sat down to dinner with some of the most overbearing, outspoken, and even unfriendly adults I’ve ever encountered. I understand that it may be difficult for some mothers to accept that their son has another girl in his life, but lady, get over yourself. I’ve actually dealt with moms who refuse to discuss my job and have even felt it necessary to comment on what little they know about my personal life. It’s good to have parents that care and all, but based on what I’ve seen, I swear some women would still breast-feed their 28-year-old sons if they thought they could get away with it. I’m looking at you, Jewish mothers…

On the upside, dads tend to dig me. This should come as no surprise. I have, after all, worked for Hooters for over eight years and I know how to deal with men. That’s why they’ll end up laughing at my jokes and trying to make me laugh, too. I bet some of them are even secretly proud of their sons for ending up with a successful, cute girl like me. That’s why I’ve always said that I’m not the kind of girl you take home to meet your mother, but I am the kind of girl you take home to meet your father.

The bottom line is that your significant other’s family can be an asset to your relationship, if they like you. If they don’t, they’re still a necessary evil that you will always have to put up with in some capacity so you might as well make the best of it. At the end of the day, you’re not dating them, so you really don’t have to like them. You only need to tolerate them to be with the person you love. So when it’s time to meet the parents, suck it up, be as nice as possible (even when your boyfriend’s mom tells you your hair looks “stripper-ish” – true story) and like I said, always bring a bottle of wine…or six.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

The past three Saturdays in a row have found me in the precarious position of day drinking from the early afternoon hours all the way through to the wee hours of the morning.  At the ripe age of 28, one would think that I’ve learned to take the following precautions while embarking on these insane alcohol and idiocy filled adventures:

1.       Eating

2.       Not wandering outside the safe, comfortable realm of only drinking beer

3.       Not wearing sunglasses

4.       Refraining from chugging anything

5.       Avoiding hard charging, shirtless fellows with the intention of form tackling me (more on that later)

But alas, another Saturday came and went this past weekend while I ignored that very quiet, perhaps mute voice of reason in my head trying to remind me of this to do list as I started at 2 pm on Saturday and powered straight through the day and didn’t stop until the last game of beer pong was played at Pippins at approximately 3:30 am. 

It was the Old Town Art Fair, historically right up there with the Sheffield Garden Walk and Taste of Lincoln as one of the most ridiculously populated, alcohol saturated festivals of the summer and this year proved no different.  The day started innocently enough as friends and fellow Loop Apparel team members made their way to a party which included a keg of 312, a keg of Dos Equis and an entire smoked Turkey amongst other outlandish treats.  I’m not the type to expect anything above a keg of light beer or two when invited to a party of any kind.  And that light beer can range from Keystone to Busch.

Anyway, moving from the first party into the fest where a sea of people all seemed to be trying to get beer from the same tent all at once, I had received word that many of my friends had changed venues and were drinking and being merry at another party fairly close by.  Assuming this party was on a rooftop (mistakenly) I entered a building that I thought to be the correct address, and ran up the stairs all the way to the top floor and burst through the door expecting to make a grand entrance and toast said acquaintances with high fives and rousing cheers. 

That is until I paused to take in my bearings and recognized none of the people milling about…and realized the average age of attendees at this party was roughly 35.  Give or take.  Clearly I had meandered into the wrong party…in the altogether wrong building.

This in and of itself was comical, but when I took stock of my situation, that I might not necessarily be close to arriving at the actual destination I needed to reach and felt the all too familiar warning my bladder was sending to my brain, I decided to chance it and see if these kind folk would allow me to use their lavatory.  I simply asked, “ummm, before I leave can I use your bathroom?”

Not only did they allow me to use it, but upon finishing I exited the bathroom and announced to the rather intrigued crowd that that had been one of the longest pees of my life, and that they should feel rather good about saving an innocent festival attendee from the potentially embarrassing situation of peeing himself.  They in turn offered me a beer which I accepted.  People in Chicago are friendly.

Finally arriving at the party destination originally sought out everything was moving along swimmingly until the beer ran out leaving my only consumption option hard alcohol.  This is the point in the evening that the Cajun Grocer regrets.  Apparently drinking 3 shot vodka drinks on an empty stomach after boozing for 7 hours doesn’t lend itself to maintaining a socially acceptable level of sobriety.

Translation: When I started drinking booze instead of beer things took a turn for the worse.

Of course at that point I was just one of many drunken buffoons out and about.  This was proved to me when I was tackled in an alley by a friend of mine for no apparent reason.

 See, I told you we’d come back to point 5.

Leaving one bar and moving on to another a group of us were traveling down an alley when a friend stopped, turned, and started running at me with a purpose.  This is odd I thought, perhaps he’s been challenged to a race of some sort.  When said friend removed his shirt and increased his speed, my concern escalated.  When he didn’t slow down when he got within a few steps of me, I thought oh fuck.

He fully laid himself out into me, nearly dropping me to the ground; somehow I didn’t fall right away despite a severely inhibited state of balance.  Eventually I did hit the ground as he rolled me over.  The semi open wound that still resides on my elbow has been sporadically trickling blood on my desk at work the past two days.  Thanks a pant load Capt Meathead; you’ve spilt my blood in my place of employment.  Kind of.

As the evening powered forward I found myself not just playing beer pong, but self righteously fist pumping after every made shot as though I had just sunk a free throw to win the NBA championship.  Every single shot was accompanied by said fist pumping and some sort of guttural scream of exultation.  Yep, I am an idiot. 

After a day and night like that I couldn’t possibly head out to the festival for a second day in a row, could I?  I woke up feeling as though I had been shot out of cannon and landed in a third world country deprived of water and sustenance of any kind.  Oh and my second pair of sunglasses in as many weeks were nowhere to be found.  I’m fairly surprised I managed to hold onto all my clothing items. 

However this dedicated soldier could not be held back from another day of tomfoolery.  Or at least a few hours as I rendezvoused with a couple more friends and headed back into the belly of the whale only to be just as entertained as I had been the previous day.

Is there a rule stating that corny, far too serious cover bands have to play on Sundays at street festivals?  A Rolling Stones cover band had taken the stage much to the extreme joy of some of the strangest people that inhabit this city.  From the scantily clad couple that were publicly making their way past first base and well on their way to second (for those of you who forgot, please recall when we were adolescents these terms were used to deftly explain what level of sexual activity you had reached.  Did I really just have to explain that?  I say yes.) To the creepy long haired fellow whose only break from dancing was to lovingly stare at the shirtless, shoeless lead singer who had an overwhelmingly sickening propensity to pull his pants down nearly to the point of flashing the crowd, it was a gathering of Chicago’s finest.

I love this fucking town.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

I know, I know…you’ve already been beaten over the head with news that Loop Apparel is launching it’s summer line for 2009 with a concert at Bucktown’s Double Door (1572 N. Milwaukee) tonight, Thursday June 11th, but I’m going to go ahead and rub your face in the details one more time with the hopes of generating a few more interested parties.

So it’s crappy outside, summer has yet to set in.  Would you rather that keep you pasted to your couch on a Thursday night?  As I call upon my experience from the past 5 years, Thursday nights in the fine city of Chicago in the summer are a part of a weekend.  The question is never “are you going out tonight?” on a Thursday it’s “what are you doing tonight?” 

Am I wrong?  And with this deplorable rain and sickening lack of warmth going on, what better night to be inside the confines of the Double Door taking in the following lineup?

Derek Nelson - 8:30 - 9 - www.myspace.com/derekchristophernelson

 Alex Hoffer - 9:15 - 9:45 - http://www.myspace.com/alexhoffermusic

Daysleeper - 10 - 10:45 - http://www.myspace.com/daysleeperband

Tamara Bedricky - 11 - 11:45 - www.tamarabedricky.com

A fantastic lineup of talented musicians at the incredibly low cost of $7.  Tamara Bedricky recently debuted a full length album and is lining up tour dates across the country.  She’s one of the premiere up and coming singer/songwriters right now and Loop Apparel is stoked (yes, I just wrote stoked) to have her be a part of this summer clothing line debut.

 Speaking of that summer line debut, did we mention that Loop Apparel now offers kids clothing for the very first time?  After attending more and more functions, gatherings. BBQs etc where kids were present we realized we had been shutting ourselves out of a market that our peers are in fact maturing into.  Our peers not being any of us thank god.  At least I don’t think there are any little Grocer’s running around out there, if there are I’d be happy to spring for one of the following clothing items for him or her….

And of course, we’re also offering all new designs for men’s and women’s and bring back some favorites in new colors such as the snappy customer favorite pictured below.

So come out to the Double Door tonight if you have nothing better to do.  I guarantee a good time and a high five for everyone who comes through the door.  Maybe even a handshake half-hug if I’m feeling a little crazy.

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

In light of the fact that this Friday, June 12th Adam Richardson will be taking the stage at Underground Lounge, I’ve decided to take the opportunity to review his latest recorded album entitled Tracks In The Living Room. 

Concert Details

Adam Richardson and Chris Jerles starting at 9 pm, cost is a paltry $8.  Also featuring Dan and Leland as well as David Kav.  The Underground Lounge is located just off Clark street in Wrigleyville at 952 W Newport. 

Check out Adam’s music at www.myspace.com/adamrichardsonmusic

Without further ado…I know you’ve been waiting for me to cut to the fucking chase already…

Adam Richardson and Chris Jerles, Tracks In The Living Room

If I were forced to define a singular theme throughout the newly recorded album from the talented musical duo that I’ve oft written about in the past in this space it would have to be a consistent confidence.  Not to say that Adam’s previous recording didn’t display a level of musical confidence but these two have been playing together at a plethora of venues in Chicago over the past couple of years and the chemistry that has developed shines through in both the instrumental and vocal harmonies that encompass Tracks In The Living Room.

Odd, the more experience that I have with any type of public musical experience typically results in people tactfully suggesting that the guitar is best kept on its stand.  Perhaps that’s because I “practice” while intoxicated.

I feel as though I’m a coach handing out tired clichés, but as far as they go, the old practice makes perfect and talent matures with experience (is that a cliché or did I make that up?  I think it makes sense) lines ring through in this album. 

Tracks such as “Something More” and “Need a Reason” bring out a palatable increased energy from both musicians that has been streaming directly through my headphones and straight into me making me bop about in my chair at work much like I’ll be doing this Friday evening at The Underground Lounge. 

Minus the chair of course, I’m not the sitting type at a concert and unless you’re seeing Yanni, I don’t see any legit reason why anyone would be.

And for those of you keeping score at home, the energetic tunes causing me to do the said chair bop have resulted in quite a few confused, questioning stairs from co-workers.  Then again, they could also be confused as to why it is that I have a real squirrel tail hanging from my cubicle wall (I shot it myself, in the backwoods of Michigan with my Uncle who is previously pictured in this space.)  Or they could even be curiously wondering about the least deserved Employee of the Year in the history of EOY awards ever resting comfortably upon my desk.  I hope to pull a repeat for 2009.  Clearly writing these blogs while at work will help me get there.

Adam and Chris are able to deftly move in and out of upbeat and slower tracks without sacrificing any momentum that any good album gains as you listen to it from beginning to end and over and over again.  A touch of blues, folk and good old fashioned rock and roll all peek their heads through showing an impressive display of ability by borrowing from styles found across the musical spectrum.

I could sit here and write about how good of musicians these guys are all day but I’d rather my loyal, angry, or bored readers – whatever the case may be – to see for themselves.  So come out to the Underground Lounge on Friday night to see these two rock out live.  I’ll be there taking in some great local music and I highly recommend you to as well.  Come on, do it. 

Posted by The Cajun Grocer

All of this street festival talk, or typing that is, got the hamster running on the wheel in my head (I much prefer to think that a hamster running on a wheel is powering my thought process and his effort results in the light bulb turning on).

Why do people in general enjoy parades so much?  Everything from the annual Thanksgiving Day Parade to the 47 parades that happen in Magic Kingdon at Disney World everyday.  People don’t just enjoy watching parades in person either….we actually televise them and people watch them on TV.  Isn’t the purpose of a parade for a large amount of people to see someone or something in person?  Am I wrong about this? 

I can understand people wanting to see parades up close and in person.  They’re fun for kids, etc but watching on TV?  I’m fairly certain that given the option of a parade or Sweet Home Alabama I’d choose the latter, I may even opt for 13 Going on 30 over a parade and that’s one step above a taping of a liposuction in my opinion. 

And why do people see parades as an opportunity to for the 84th Unit of VFW to march down the street in a hodgepodge of uniforms at a torturously slow pace.  If I wanted to see old people doing something active I would find the nearest shuffle board court and set up shop for some real excitement. 

In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say that Loop Apparel should sponsor Chicaog’s Inaugural Shuffle Board Association.  The Cajun Grocer will be running for President.  Do I have your vote?!