Don't Think Twice, It's Alright 

A year ago this week, I was standing over the corpse of my dad on a bright morning, trying to manage my shock while working out the correct order of people and professional agencies to call. I was surprised by this shock for a couple of reasons. His death was expected — he had an intake interview with home hospice later that day, although he apparently had other ideas — and he wasn't the first dead body I had ever seen. He wasn't even the first dead parent I'd stood over; I reached that grim milestone before I was 18. Cancer had sucked my mother dry almost to bones, while heart disease and severe alcoholism had filled the old man up until he burst. Different strokes for different folks.

Forgive me, I have a very dark sense of humor, a congenital defect from both sides of the family. Extreme situations can very quickly feel normal, especially if you have a lifetime of practice of being in a rough spot, as anyone who has been close to, or raised by, an alcoholic knows. People knew my dad in a lot of different ways; I would have liked to know him better as a friend, as he was at his very best in those times. And there were also times, long ago, when he was brilliant and had a heart whose capacity for art and beauty was immeasurable. He kept a reproduction of a Madonna drawing by Da Vinci within eyesight of his living room perch, and wept the first time he described to me seeing the hand veins of David "pulse under living marble" in Florence when he was 17, a trip he raised money for himself via endless paper routes in snowy upstate New York, to see the great art of Europe before "another stupid fucking war" came along to erase it. He loved Muddy Waters, Bob Dylan, the Dead and Italian opera. "The Lark Ascending" by Ralph Vaughan Williams was a morning staple in our home, unspooling in crackling analog on one of many Deutsche Grammophon tapes. He was an iconoclast, a man with a full mathematics scholarship to Syracuse who gave it up to become a world-traveling hippie, fantastic carpenter, OK guitar player and occasionally decent father. He built spiral staircases out of wood, doing all the math in his head, and for some wild reason, my mother fell in love with him a long time ago. His own mother once got so mad at him she called him a "son of a bitch," a pretty fair analysis, all things considered. As the son of a son of a bitch, he still has my sympathy and love, despite his best efforts. RIP, you old SOB.

For the rest of you, have a beautiful week.

Thursday

Here are a couple of free gigs to fill out your late-week, midsummer musical calendar. First up at 6 p.m. at Madaket Plaza, the summer concert series rolls on with Decades, a group that plays pop songs from over the years. The name kind of says it all, really. An hour later at the Basement, you will find one of Humboldt's premier jazz, fusion and all-around versatile backing quartets RLAD. These guys are all scene vets and if they've ever put on a bad show, I haven't heard it.

Friday

Kate Willett is a New York comedian whose career has been defined by the micro-meeting-the-macro, as a lot of her humor revolves around her personal life and its evolutions as the country and planet have descended into madness over the last several years. She first came onto my radar with an affectingly honest essay four years ago about her late partner Raghav Mehta and personal tragedy informing political change called "I Used to Hate Bernie Bros Until I Loved and Lost One." She's also a very funny and talented comedian with an excellent moral compass, qualities that are not often complimentary. She is headlining her first of a two-night run at Savage Henry Comedy Club tonight at 9 p.m. ($15). Along with local support from Joshua Barnes, Nando Molina and Jessica Barnes.

Saturday

Indie pop band with local connections and roots The Ian Fays have been making music since the early '00s, putting the group well-situated to claim a mantle of authenticity in the genre. Lending further credence claims of uniqueness are the duo leading the act, identical twin sisters Lizzie and Sara Fay, whose sound is accompanied by a fashion-sense that leans into the "human duet" aspect of identity. They'll be at the Miniplex tonight at 8:30 p.m., with support from Hey, Eleanor ($10).

Sunday

Local swing jazz/pop duo Swingo Domingo will be playing for any and all daytrippers who roll into the Fieldbrook Winery. Starting at noon, the music is technically free, but seating and refreshments require a reservation and a bit of moolah, menu items depending. Enjoy.

Monday

Savage Henry Comedy Club presents Medicine, a show by host and producer Jane Alexandria, where a group of local comedians is encouraged to "grin and bear it" by telling stories of personal trauma and ameliorating the horror with laughter. Starting at 9 p.m., and for only $1 to get in, you can come hear all about it from the likes of Jessica Grant, Nic Castinola, Tosana Littlestar and others.

Tuesday

It's a quiet Tuesday, which is a great time to remind you of one of our regular hidden gem events, The Opera Alley Cats doing their jazzy thing over at the Speakeasy at 7 p.m. Bring some cash to tip the band and the bartender if you happen to imbibe.

Wednesday

Here are two great shows in Arcata within walking distance of each other. Unfortunately, they both start at 7 p.m., and no one I know walks that fast, so you'll have to pick one. Over at the Arcata Playhouse you will find Fog Holler, a bluegrass quartet of young, very talented musicians from across the country who have wisely adopted the matching outfit visual style of their long-gone Grand Ole Opry heroes from the beautiful days of before ($20). Meanwhile at the Outer Space, $10 gets you a quartet of great bands, with punk act Crystal Logic hailing from Oakland and the rest being some of the best local-ish groups on tap. I am referring to the mighty Blackplate, Petiole and Small Craft Advisory. As always, this is an all-ages show in a sober space. Enjoy.

Collin Yeo (he/him) is an Earthling, for now.