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The Parting Glass



I'm going to keep this one brief because I'm on the backend of the long weekend and reeling from some bad business that went down on Kinetic Saturday. I'm talking about the last call at one of my longtime favorite watering holes, the Alibi. I had a farewell cocktail there after work the day before and missed Saturday's shutdown because of my aversion to crowds. I have a lot to say about this and almost none of it is fit to print, so I will stick with a quick observation. In my view, from my side of the bar, the reasons for the place getting shuttered has absolutely nothing to do with its wonderful staff, for whom I have only affection and care. Nor do the regular patrons, casuals and wandering tourists share any blame. That's it.

Like many Alibi regulars, I didn't spend the last decade-plus jamming out late at night, or reading or chatting with friends in the courtyard or splendor of either bar, all while dropping a mortgage-worth of money over that time on drinks and food to suffer this foolish loss.

Tip your bartenders and servers, and have a wonderful week.


It's the last Thursday of the last month before the summertime, which means our options are usually some mix of scant and quaint, so let's spin the wheel and see what pops up. OK, how about the Open Mic Jam at the Logger Bar, hosted by Soul Trip, starting, I'm guessing, after 7 p.m. and free. What's that you say? Another spin? Your wish is my command. Here's another freebee that starts after 7 p.m. (probably an hour later, I'd hazard). Over at the Basement, you can enjoy the Claire Bent Jazz Quintet fronted by one of the more versatile singers of our area.


Local roots rock, boogie and blues-infused, country-side, all-star act The New Pelicans is joining up with another, albeit more established, act of stellar local players when they share the Humbrews stage with Rooster McClintock at 8 p.m. ($10). This is a great pairing, as the rambling string band picking fun of the renewed iteration of the Handshakers should serve as a great companion sound to the honky tonk-ing heat brought by the Rooster Boys. What a perfect way to summon the coming spirits of summer.


It's the second — and last — night of the Eureka Symphony's latest offering, "A Study in Contrasts." On the program are two favorites of mine, Shostakovich's Violin Concerto No. 2 (his final concerto) and the ninth or "New World" Symphony by Dvôrák. Both pieces are considered late-career masterworks by their respective composers. Though separated by more than 70 years of violently dynamic history, each opus has something to offer the other by means of contrast, the often triumphal majesty of the symphony is a great foil to the damaged, paranoid beauty of the concerto. I'm going to take this opportunity to plug a favorite novel The Noise of Time, by Julian Barnes, which offers a pretty good submersion into the life and mind of Shostakovich as he explores the U.S. as a Soviet cultural ambassador and writes his mid-career works literally under the gun. I am certain that, as always, director and conductor Carol Jacobson will deliver the goods. We have a fine symphony here, folks, go enjoy it! It's at the Arkley Center at $7:30 p.m., tickets range from $19-$49. Viva.


As an "Oregon Trail" millennial, I'm the perfect age to wax rhapsodic about loving the original Star Wars trilogy, while having strong opinions about the later franchise offerings. However, while I am many things and not all of them virtuous, I am not a nerd, so I have little interest in wading into those oily waters. I am a shameless lover of a big spectacle, so the opportunity to see the middle — and heaviest — film of the original three on the big screen is a good thing. The Eureka Theater is showing The Empire Strikes Back, the most perfectly balanced middle point of the helmet-and-lightsaber saga. I'm sure the magic has worn a bit thin since I was a child, but I was also a brooding and not very happy kid, the kind who didn't understand why anyone would be anything but stoked to have Darth Vader as a father. Anyway, I'm not above saying this seems like a great time. The matinee is at 2:30 p.m., and tickets are $10 general, $5 for children 12 and under, which presumably doesn't include fan boys from the legions of manchildren circling the outer planets of the galaxy.


It sure ain't Valentine's Day, but that's not stopping the good folks at Savage Henry Comedy Club from putting on a Broken Heart Care-Eoke — that last word sounds better in the head than it looks on paper — at 9 p.m. For $1, you can step up to the mic and croon a heartbroken tune or share a story of being in dumpsville. And while I doubt that even the most potent potions brewed up by the late CIA evil scientist and MKUltra big bad-daddy Sidney Gottlieb could coerce me into such activities, to each their own. Pour one out for the broken-hearted, if you are so inclined.


The Arcata Veterans Hall is always a fun venue for catching shows and the only one in the county (I'm aware of) that has a nice big cannon parked out front. Tonight's headliners are a rockabilly band from SoCal called the Crown City Bombers, a name I am certain looks really great embossed on the back of a bowling shirt. The band is nine albums deep into its career, so you know these cats are lifers, and they play a mix of vintage rockin' classics as well as originals in the style thereof with a great deal of skill. Slide on by after the doors open at 7 p.m. to see what's cooking, and make sure to catch something good from local trio Idle Spurs ($15).


Ana Egge is a Canadian-American singer-songwriter, and guitar builder based out of Brooklyn, New York. Her tunes are well-written, and walk on those lovely, gilded splinters set between the converging pathways of modern folk, country and bluesy jazz. I dig it. Check her out at the Old Steeple tonight at 7:30 p.m., a place that I can virtually guarantee is so perfect for her vibe it will feel like a collaboration. It's $25 if you walk up and pay, $21.50 for advance tickets.

Collin Yeo (he/him) lives in Arcata, a town that is increasingly bumming him out.

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