Stories
Humans are natural-born storytellers. We tell stories to one another and to ourselves. They help us make sense of the absurdities life throws at us every day.
I went to Nickelodeon Cinemas (The Nick) last month to see Thor: Ragnarok. I’m not a super fanboy of the superhero genre, but I’m nerdy enough to splash around on occasion, and though most movies leave we wanting a refund, Thor: Ragnorok did not. Because our society is so steeped in monotheism, we often forget that the old gods were drawn as very relatable figures — deities with weaknesses, flaws, and human-like struggles. The new Thor movie does a good job expressing this ancient idea, and portraying gods as superheroes is kind of a genius move. The movie’s dialogue and plot managed to keep my interest by diverging from formula and delivering a welcome chaser of humor.
By contrast, Justice League, which I saw at the Cinemagic in Westbrook, felt like having to sit through a set by a really crappy comedian with a bad sense of timing. Of course, it was cool to see Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman being all badass, but the film was like someone combined chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and spice cake mixes and put the goop in an oven expecting a miracle. The result was nauseating.
On Halloween I went to Aura for some funk and Afrobeat treats. Gina and the Red Eye Flight Crew opened the show dressed as a punk-rock version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. The band includes Dave Noyes on trombone, Lucas Desmond on sax, Max Cantlin on guitar, Chris Sweet and Dan Boyden on drums and percussion, Colin Winsor on bass and Tyler Quist on keys. (Tyler has a big beard and his fashion sense is already Middle Earthy, so I suppose he just wore his regular clothes.) The headliner was The Motet, a Denver-born band that features Portland native Lyle Divinsky on lead vocals. They played a few originals and some sexy covers of songs by Michael Jackson; Parliament/Funkadelic; Earth, Wind & Fire; and Sly and the Family Stone. The tunes were hot, as was the continuum of costumed babes super-charged by the music.
A few days later, I rolled into Sonny’s to catch Katie Matzell and her band. It was the beginning of Portland Beer Week (the event was dubbed Basecoat Brunch), but being a sober schmo I indulged in some huevos rancheros instead. Dan Boyden was here, too, sitting at a table right in front of the band with Kate Somerville. They nodded for me to join them. Cantlin and Sweet are in this group, as well, as is Matzell’s husband (bassist Adam Frederick) and keyboard player Emmett Harrity. My tablemates split after the first set, but Pete Dugas and Aaron David Cloutier arrived soon afterward and joined me. The waitresses that day — Heidi Andrews and Ginette Labonville — kept the beer flowing and the customers happy even as the busy restaurant began to run out of food. We all have invisible burdens and personal battles to fight, but sometimes we have to put our swords away and just enjoy a sweet Sunday soundtrack of rehabilitative restoration.
Though I am a godless anarchist, I have a soft spot for certain traditions, and attending one of the annual Beatles Night shows at the State Theatre is one of them. Spencer Albee started Beatles Night back in 2002, at The Big Easy, and it’s gotten more popular every year. The Beatles have been an arrow in my musical quiver since my father played their records when I was a baby. My brother Tom Tarbox comes up from Biddeford every year to join me. Spence and the group performed Revolver on Friday night and Sgt. Pepper for Saturday’s sold-out show. Special guests this year included Sean McCarthy and Griffin Sherry of The Ghost of Paul Revere, the aforementioned Ms. Matzell, Dominic Lavoie, Kevin Oats (conducting a small contingent of string-players from The Maine Youth Rock Orchestra), Portland guitar godfather Tim Emery (co-owner of Buckdancer’s Choice) and Zach Jones, Spence’s former As Fast As bandmate, back in town from his new perch in L.A.
One of the songs they played during the encore was “Helter Skelter,” which Spence prefaced by saying “Guess who this song is not going out to?” — a reference to the recently deceased Charles Manson. Like I said, I’m an atheist, but amen to that.
