weakened

because our major weekend activity has become walking, and we really don't dig the axis, we missed out on soundclash this w-e but did catch the final night of george c. wolfe's the colored museum at jubliee theatre (a wildly satirical look at a serious subject, namely how the loss of identity has contributed to the pain of black 'meercuns). while all of the vignettes weren't equally effective, the production in general just reinforced my belief that rudy eastman's little-company-that-could is consistently presenting the most interesting theater here in the fort.

next friday, of course, we'll be at the little wreck room for the last-ever show by woodeye, who are celebrating a decade together by folding the tent. carey wolff and crew are capable of bringing a tear to the eyes of lotsa ppl of whom you wouldn't think it possible, and all of 'em will undoubtedly be there to hear their faves in person one last time (and maybe steal one of the posters jesse sierra hernandez and ray liberio collaborated on for the occasion).

on sat'day, we'll prolly fall by the wreck to hear the debut of the burning hotels, a band featuring frequent wednesday night jam participant wyatt (a young cat who clearly digs the good old schitt) on drums, before heading over to the moon to hear goodwin take one small step for brainy pop-rock, one giant leap for...oh, nevermind.

next sunday, we're heading for the northside to check out rob bosquez' a tale of los ninos cinco at the rose marine theater. could get used to doing this live theater thang.