I think what she’s tryin to say, is that when a gay person stands in the shade, like under a tree, they are just as gay as when they stand in the sun, with no trees around?

You need to stand in my way making shitty movies of a show that you are probably never going to watch again? Jack White might be a weirdo but he’s not wrong about smartphones at shows

Today would have been my father’s 77th birthday. While we just passed Father’s Day, today on Stereogum’s series “The Number Ones”,

When I was in third grade, my parents’ marriage fell apart. My mother was becoming more and more absorbed into a religious group (some might say “cult”), and my father didn’t know what to do. One night, I heard my dad come upstairs with a pillow and blanket. “Dad? What are you doing?” He responded, “your mother doesn’t want to sleep with my anymore”, and I heard him cry himself to sleep.

Hell of a memory from when I was eight.

Over the next two years, my mother left, but my father didn’t give up so easily. He took my brother and I and we went to live with the group and maybe convince her to leave. We failed – and my father got us out of there after the leader beat the crap out of my brother and I. We moved back into the house I grew up in, and when my parents divorced he paid off my mother by selling almost everything we owned besides that house to give his sons some continuity during this horrible time.

We literally had nothing afterwards – two pieces of furniture in the entire house (dad’s bed, our bunkbed), and we heated the house with a wood-burning fire stove. That Christmas, we had a tree which made Charlie Brown’s tree look majestic. My dad bought us the board game “Tilt”…and that was it.

My father also owned his own construction company, and he began putting in 80-hour weeks as he attempted to rebuild our lives. I made lunches for my brother and I, cooked and cleaned, then went to bed, and my dad would check in with us when he got home around 9 pm, exhausted from another 15 hour day. One Friday night, he brought in a cassette player, and had us sit up in our beds. He explained the reason for his long hours, then played “Cats in the Cradle” for us. He said his greatest fear was being the dad in the story.

He cried. I cried. My brother cried. It may have been the only time I saw him cry in front of me (I don’t think he ever knew I heard him cry the night he stayed in the spare bedroom). For years, I couldn’t hear this song without welling up with tears.

There are many, many stories over the next few virtual years about my father and our relationship through music, but this song held the most significance. He passed away from brain cancer in 1998, the same day Sinatra died. At his service, I read the lyrics to the song and cried one last time.

I’m welling up a bit as I write this – he wasn’t the best father, but he tried, and did as good as he knew. I think that’s all any of us could ask for.

10/10

Dad’s efforts: 10/10

She’s the well-meaning straight girl who has several dozen gbfs, at least half of whom she has cockblocked by getting fall-down-drunk at a gay bar and needing to be taken home before she makes her third unsuccessful attempt to mount the go-go platform. The next day you consider explaining why this behavior is, if not outright problematic, than at least annoying, but instead you just go to brunch and binge watch half a season of Gosssip Girl. It’s not like you have enough friends to be picky.

Counterpoint: put your fucking phone down and watch the show.

He had a lot of rage against that machine

I told this story a couple of years ago when it happened but it’s the coolest thing that’s happened to me so I’m going to repeat it. I was at an afterwork event at a hotel roof bar and happened to notice Britt was right next to me at the bar ordering a beer. I said what’s up and that I loved the new album (Hot Thoughts), and offered to pay for his drink. He laughed it off but threw me on the list for their show the next night.

Brought a couple of buddies, we got pretty lubed up during the show (they’re fucking incredible live) and then decided to hang around the backstage area afterwards and say we knew Britt. To his credit Britt invited us bozos back to his trailer to have a few beers and talk for a while. After some time he asked if we had any recommendations for a good margarita in the area, we told him a place and he invited us to grab one. So then we sat at the restaurant for another drink or two, then he had to head out to rest up for the next show.

Spoon rules, Britt rules.

You need to calm down

Is “Kung Fu Fighting” a good song? Not Really
Has “Kung Fu Fighting” aged well? Not Really
Is “Kung Fu Fighting” one of the greatest songs of all time? Yes, Absolutely

“There’s only, like, two of my top 10 Spoon songs on here”

– Every Spoon fan

People downvoting the above comment should ask themselves how much of their standing this dude was about wanting to prove that country music as a whole is inherently racist and how much was genuinely enjoying the artist/thinking he had any sort of longevity.

That’s because 95% of the people who comment on this website are non thinking sheep.

The truly shitty news is that Jimmy Buffett is still alive.

If this is an unbearably shitty story why you post it pathetic snobbish asshole?. A beautiful story indeed.

As a conservative, I feel misrepresented.

The people who pay $400+ for a Jonas Brothers vinyl subscription service are really leaning into the literal definition of “Sucker,” aren’t they?