The longtime band Mouldy Figs are back again at the Bungalow Inn in Lakeland on Tuesday from 5-7 p.m., so catch them early and maybe have dinner, too. In their online bio, members of the old school jazz-and-other-genres group say, “don’t trust any band under 30.” As in having performed together for more than three decades. That was one of the reasons the The Figs even merited a prominent tribute band event a while back, having formed in 1973 in St. Paul. And the band leader has even been performing locally, and also taking his earlier acts far afield, for longer then that. Midstream in that time frame was a group of video segments recorded at the Bungalow itself. Members are Jim “Fig” Field (washboard), Tom Owens (bass), Debbie Schreyer (banjo) and Irv Williams (saxophone). In case you want to find out more about the band, they even are known by multiple names, and not just the one word that many models or singers go by. They include the Minnesota Mouldy Figs and the Mouldy Figs Dixieland Band.
More fodder is afield on The Figs at The Bungalow, (and they haven’t gotten moldy after more than 30 years)
Related Posts
- Elsewhere on these pages: Bark at the cheese on the moon puns, and Brewers win 22-0 to reply while Twins sweep a contender. REplay to replenish.
- For a post that has some of the cheesiest trivia-type references this side of the moon partway through, search elsewhere on this site to see it now displayed
A hodgepodge listing of everything that’s truly different but maybe baked porage follows, and we’re not talking about a connect-the-dots or puzzle-pieces contest or one on Trump’s foreign policy, haha, rather what I saw and what will be seen around town in recent times. Mostly, one of each. Think you have the world’s, or more likely local church’s, best grilled cheese sandwich, (coming from the land of, specifically, well curded and curdled milk and honey?) Fry it to the test on Saturday. No this is not an autumn chili cookoff, or char the best burger, or even a poker run...
- Give props to the several bands for climbing partway up deer-stand-style lofts, then taking to all but the lute. (We saw virtually every other style of smaller instrument at a Music in the Trees fundraiser for a nature preserve.) Yes, they dropped a couple of drumsticks to the forest floor, but perservered as a fan fave. Then a band from The Andes stole the show.
Music in the trees? It conjures up images of a poet wearing millenniums-ago robe and sandals while playing a lute and propped onto the fourth fork of a bigger-than-usual apple tree and doing a balancing act on his ass while he sings a soliloquy or a soffit. Maybe taking a bite in-between verses, to match what listeners chomped on if they hauled it in down long nature paths, making for dinner and a show with duos and trios, and one huge and elaborate band. Well didn’t quite get that lute-ist. Or a bassist so high on life and so-forth stoned...
- The start of one song, was simply “Question?” So we’ll lead off this story — Guess Who? — with who will lead the blue as it attempts to fade in with the red in the county in this election cycle? Can we get to The Color Purple? Mock the Maroon? (A scam Alert!!! My post is massively updated after my short trip between Badger and Gopher states. So read on.)
Questions everywhere? These days, how do you dismiss an ad or a politician, or whoever or whatever pops up and occupies your computer screen, or mailbox, electronic or otherwise? And did that answer in the form of a package or letter or even air waves — coming from a pol or a pool? — ever actually arrive, like all those ads and flyers? Maybe it never will? And surely not written with a quill. As one friend just reminded me, it all starts with one problem leading into another set of problems. Or, like a volcano boiling and brewing and...
- The hearsay vote will be read by some as pure heresy, as Hermening spies the ‘country club crowd’ for how he can putt to quasi-greatness and quash Trump. Then in today’s election there’s a pro-life, run-of-the-mill muckadymuck, a Hong pro-education predictable, and a sharper than the average sheep Shannon (yes it’s a he.) THat’s what flyers tell us about the Day’s Of Our Lives. Today.
Hey today they threw it all back to you, as it is election day, and with it the last Badger gasp — if least if they’re our candidates — (is that the throaty noise they make?), with a soar-throated, campaign-trail rasp made by an audio-version plethora of last-minute flyers that fill our boxes with hopes to grasp, so we can check their boxes when we go to the polls and pick a (partial) winner to move on to full November midterms. Less then the Trump-triumphed manhandling our mailboxes got however, in the last election of this type. Those worn, creaking...