Posts by Rob Azevedo
I saw pain in the eyes of one of these people today. He and many others lost a good friend they grew up with when a bullet to the face killed Jason Barry early last Friday morning in an alley off Union Street.
Surviving the lean times means you have to be willing to try the Dollar Tree shrimp lo mein.
When I stood in front of the back coolers at the Dollar Tree five nights ago, I was amazed at the ensemble of delicacies the store now sold. Or maybe they always have. I stick to the armpit and candy isle mostly. This was a new world to me.
Maybe 10 yards into the tree line laying beside a fallen tree sat Frank – lost, tired and confused. Frank, as I later learned his name to be, was, is, and likely will always be a homeless person. Worse than homeless, Frank is also touched in the head, not quite all there.
Got myself a “get out of town” pass for 48 hours recently without having any real reason to leave town. I just made my way toward Nowhere, all for the heck of it. Sometimes that’s the only place worth seeing. So I saw.
And if anyone else cares to bathe alongside me in Kate’s light, join us at The Bookery on Elm Street in Manchester this Friday May 24 at 6:30 p.m. where you can see Dobbins, Kate West, Nick Ferraro and Jasmine Mann — all incredible songwriters — joining me as I read from my new book, “Notes From the Last Breath Farm: A Music Junkies Quest to Be Heard,” which is for sale at the Bookery, and on Amazon.
Sunday in the city and I’m a hot mess, burned out couch side, copper tongue sagging out the side of my mouth, just trying to figure what to do with my day. So many hours left to kill before the “Battle of Winterfell” begins. If only I had a barrel of Dragon Glass to sharpen, or a hobby that involved something other than tending to my vices to occupy my time.
Catch Sean Rowe at the Capital Center for the Arts on March 31, if you can. You won’t regret it.
Catch this 5-piece folk/rock band Friday night at the Currier Museum’s Side Door Music Series – and bring some tissues.
Good times. But hey, it’s February; what more could I expect out of this lousy month?