Bars are for beers, not for feet.
I know the roundup is running late this week. Monday totally snuck up on me, so back off. But seriously, last weekend was packed and writing a recap seemed a bit daunting. Here goes.
My freaky Friday began with a drink at the Westgate Lounge in West Manchester Township. It was strange to be at a bar outside the city. It was also kind of weird how much equipment the band Second Guess was trying to cram into such a small space. Talk about some serious sound check.
I didn't stick around for the show and decided to drinks and a bite to eat at Cobblestones. I had just been there for Monday Night Football, so it was like deja vu, accept there were less rowdy Eagles fans and more women.
After stones, I had my first experience with the Kenton Shelley Band at Granfalloons. I was a bit underwhelmed with the performance and a bit overwhelmed by the '90s covers, including a fast-forwarded version of "Wonderwall."
Where it went down
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Let's get to the heart of the problem. It wasn't so much the music; it was that the music encouraged people to dance on the bar. (And by people I mean one very tipsy lady who wasn't exactly Coyote Ugly material.) In the right atmosphere, bar dancing is perfectly acceptable, like at Mardi Gras or spring break. Under normal circumstances, it was rather uncomfortable for the other patrons. At least it didn't turn into a stripping situation. I might have lost my supper...and my will to live.
Saturday started out way better than Friday night ended. The sun was shining and I got my lazy butt off the couch and went for a run. Later, I headed to the Appalachian Brewing Company in Harrisburg to check out Baltimore jam band The Bridge. More than one friend was needed to convince me to see the show, but I was pleasantly surprised. Any band with a cute saxophonist and a mandolin player/beat boxer is OK in my book. By the end of the set, I was grooving along and kicking balloons. The band is playing York Oct. 25.
The Bridge puts the fun in funky.
Since Sunday was just as beautiful, I took a drive down to Moon Dancer Winery, where I laid out in the sun, watched the grapes ripen and listened to A.D. Chandler and His Imaginary Band. Then it was off to a friend's house to consume pizza and wings and watch the Eagles face the Steelers. (The game was pretty ugly. It was more like a non-loss for the Eagles instead of a win.) I wrapped up the weekend by catching some of the 60th Annual Emmy Awards. It seems that I was one of the unfortunate few who did.
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