First, though, let me make a few introductions: my name is Kevin. You’re going to get to know me pretty well over the years, but for now, I’ll hit the basics of what you should know: Springsteen. Wilco. Scorsese. Tarantino. Football. Seinfeld. Arrested Development. The Simpsons. Football. When you learn to talk, if you’re remotely familiar with any of those things, we’ll get along just fine.
You see that man over there? Probably not, because although I know little about babies who are about 12 hours old, I’m fairly certain I recall reading that they can’t see long distances. OK, so how about this? The next time the bearded redhead holds you, the one in the Phillies cap, that’s your dad. His name is Cory. I’ve known him a long time, and one thing I know about him more than just about anything else, he’s waited for this day more than you (or anyone) can possibly imagine (realizing, of course, you are 12 hours old and can’t imagine anything right now, but even when you are much much older, the sentiment will be the same).
UPDATED: Dec. 28, 2012
A long time ago (or, actually, two years ago), I would make annual Best Of lists, usually for movies and music, and I loved doing it. I always wanted to include TV shows and books, but I often found myself unable to list 10, and since all good lists come in groups of 10, I would leave them off and be done with it.
Last year, though, I opted for an overarching list that included all things I loved about the year, so I’m now thinking that’s the way to go. Oddly enough, this year, I had a hard time narrowing my TV shows down to 10 – we really are in an amazing era of quality TV. Note: These aren’t necessarily listed in order of favorites or quality.
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band played for more than three hours Saturday night in Louisville, and I got to be one of the lucky ones in the pit, the front section closest to the stage. I managed to get quite a few cool shots before my phone finally died, and for anyone wishing to relive the concert (or pretend you were there), enjoy: Continue reading →
Tomorrow night, I’ll be attending yet another Bruce Springsteen concert, this time in Louisville, as The Boss makes his first Kentucky stop in a decade. I’ll be somewhere on the floor, hopefully toward the front, and, at least on occasion, my thoughts will be with some of my family in the upper section. My mom will be attending her first-ever Springsteen show, accompanied by my sister and two youngest nephews.
Three years ago, my sister and brother-in-law took all three of their sons to a Springsteen show in Nashville, and while I’ve tried for years to explain to people how indescribable an experience a Bruce concert can be, I think my then-8-year-old nephew summed it up perfectly: Continue reading →
Last week, I was (as is often the case) in the mood to listen to some Wilco, but not just any Wilco because it had to be just the right Wilco. The wrong album at the wrong time can be a disaster, particularly on those days where the songs need to complement the mood rather than set it; I needed music as an enhancer, not an enforcer. Continue reading →
Saturday morning, for the third consecutive year, I’ll be at Natural Bridge State Park to take part in the Powell County Kiwanis Club’s annual 5K. In general, 5Ks aren’t so tough (I say that like I’m an old pro at them, when, in fact, this is only my third one ever), but since this starts out at a miniature golf course then moves up a GIANT AND STEEP HILL to the Lodge, I can rightly say it is a bit rough. Continue reading →
Bruce Springsteen performs April 17, 2012, in Cleveland. Photo by Kevin Hall
With all apologies to Reese and his Cups, there are no wrong ways to listen to Bruce Springsteen.
Want to hear a story, with themes uniting the music from beginning to end? Pop in a full album. More interested in checking out singles, bouncing from rock to pop to folk to beyond? Put your iPod on shuffle and move through his individual songs. Hits? He’s got them. Obscure tracks? Those, too. Fan favorites? Duh.
Bruce Springsteen’s more overtly political albums tend to have a quieter feel, as though the music couldn’t match the vitriol of the lyrics. In albums like Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad, Springsteen mostly armed himself with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica, painting stories of bleakness in which the promise of hope was as sparse as the music. Continue reading →
Our publisher walked into the newsroom, telling us we should monitor the morning TV broadcasts, not that anything was major, but just in case.
A plane had hit the World Trade Center, which while definitely unusual, was nothing we’d normally cover in Georgetown, Ky., where we focused our reporting efforts on news inside Scott County’s borders.