It’s now almost 12 hours into year 38 for me, and I at least I no longer feel like I’ve been beaten about the upper back with a truncheon (even after yesterday’s 3-hour nap, necessitated by one of my editors who thought it would be funny to have me up and working yesterday morning after an extra-late night). But it was a good pain in which to suffer; anything that can restore my faith in the NWI music scene with the sheer joy akin to getting picked up by a 20-something and then bent over the hood of a car signifies a good night all around.

I’m not even sure I can describe Friday night’s show with River Oaks, FIL and The Steepwater Band other than with a slack-jawed “Whoa ...” Like, put your drink down and stare in wonder at how three skinny boys from Portage can make all that rock. Just unreal. At one point, guitarist Jeff Massey did this thing where both his hands were on the base of the guitar, and it was all “weedleeweedleeweedleeweedleeweedleeeeeeeee!” with fingers flying, swear to God. I’ve never seen anything like it. River Oaks, led by my D-list celebrity BFF hairstylist Ben Mollin (I love bringing that up), opened up the gig, and it was the quirkiest of the three—Girlie describes it as “middle-aged punk,” while FIL was hard-driving power pop(Girlie and I hate this cliche, but I have no better way of describing them at the moment). Then Steepwater, then a jam featuring Steepwater and NWI guitar virtuoso-leprechaun Danny Giorgi, who can sing backup with a cigarette in his mouth like no other. Seriously, I can’t say enough about these guys, and not just because they’re friends of mine. (Sidenote: Are they REALLY going to make them play the last freakin’ second of the Super Bowl!?? Really!??) So, when Steepwater comes to a bar near you, treat yourself and go. Oh, and I would say go buy something of theirs off iTunes, but keep in mind that magic can’t really be recorded well.

Second day of my birthday weekend: Up at the asscrack to work, then lunch with Kaffy, then sleeping. Glorious sleeping.

Today was lunch with Mother—who’s doing well with the anti-psychotic, and that’s the best gift for which I could ask, really—and now I’m over at Girlie’s for Crap TV night after hanging at her family restaurant for the Super Bowl. Have I told y’all lately that my peeps are the greatest peeps in the world? Because they really are, and I love every one of them. The birthday wishes have me all mooshie and stuff, even the drinks from my Facebook pals whom I’ve never met. It’s nice being remembered.

I’ll post pics from Friday night when I get home...

12:26 ayem: Ok, I’m home now, so pics ahoy below the fold (please note that for my purposes here, I ran some of these through Photoshop quick fix, so colors and stuff are going to look wonky):