Music hath charms. Cars and pet stores, not so much.

I posted pictures of Teh Chair in its native and eventual habitats. What I didn't mention at the time was that JARVIS chose that morning to pop a Check Engine (idiot) light moments before I lowered the hatch to let the chair in, which stayed on for most of Tuesday before spontaneously turning itself off:



Disclaimer: those are not my legs that is not my dash.  The identical code on mine came and went too quickly to snap a shot of it, but that's wot it said.  I replied, Really?!? Who built this car, Santa Claus?

He must have needed to get back to his North Pole sauna, since it was gone for the rest of Tuesday and all of Wednesday- when I had nothing else to concern me except....

----

Right before picking up the chair, I tried to restock Pepper's specialty dog fud.  The Big Box Petchain in the same strip plaza didn't carry it. Nor did two other chains I checked, and not even a specialty store I knew our Parp! buddy Ursula got her noms from. No, the only place to get it locally off a shelf was the store Pepper's previous owner got it from....

 Which I haven't set foot in for years, even though it's the closest pet store to our house and both of our works.

We call it Steve's Not So Wonderful World of Puppy Mills. It's the only one in the area selling dogs from breeders, and is routinely picketed by the Erie County SPCA for its profiteering.

But that night, with her noms running low and knowing an online order would take until the weekend, I gritted my fangs, went in,  and bought the smallest bag of the fud they had. (I also resisted shaming the cashier, because I'm sure she takes enough shit as it is.)

When I told Eleanor, who had posted earlier in the day about of some of Pepper's quirkinesses, she reminded me how well we do at unconventional things like re-raising a former stray in her third home in just over six months. I replied that breaking a boycott was not consistent with that unconventionality, but, as she said, I did it for the right reason.

This reason, not for price or convenience or anything else:



(That face will be important later.)

I wound up sending a reasonably conciliatory post to Steve's, complimenting them for their selection and staff and also suggesting that they'd probably make more money off of suckers pet owners like us if they'd only limit their inventory to rescues.  To their credit, they allowed the posting of the comment and tried to argue that their "breeders" are professional and uncruel.  The jury's out on that; even if the Blessed Virgin Mary is pounding out the purebred puppies, that's still one less rescue being adopted- and they need to.  When they start at least offering some rescues in their store, I'll reconsider.

----

Then, Thursday.  I had no court in Rochester, but a long-planned date with an awesome band who I began to follow through,.... insulting them?!?

Please to explain: We've been fans of folksinger Lucy Kaplansky for ages, and I became Facebook friends with her not long after seeing her at the first of several amazing shows I've seen her at throughout NY.  At some point, when she was touring and doing a show in Minneapolis, she posted a picture of the marquee listing her show. I cannot find it; I've scrolled through hundreds of her photos, but the order of artist was:

STANLEY CLARKE
LUCY KAPLANSKY
LAKE STREET DIVE

Ever trying to be positive, I commented along the lines of, Hey, ain't no shame being billed below Stanley Clarke, but at least you're above ::heh heh:: Lake Street Dive.

Funny, Ray. Real funny. I had no idea they were anything other than a who-knows-who-they're tributing cover band  undeserving of attention. Then, WRUR started playing their cover of "I Want You Back," and filling in their backstory as a classically-trained quartet who turned to a mix of rock, jazz, R&B and anything else you care to have.  I heard tracks from Bad Self Portraits and bought it; I heard "Call off Your Dogs" as the prerelease single from Side Pony and bought that; and I wondered why these guys weren't just backing up trucks to haul off every available Grammy for their work.

I'd missed their early shows. In their first Rochester Jazz Festival appearance, they played at Abeline, the bar the size of your living room I lucked into spending with a Spin Doctor a few weeks back.  But much earlier this year, when the headliners for the 2018 Xerox Fest were announced, along with Alison Krauss and Boz Scaggs and Seal (all of whom we adore), there was a chance to take a Dive on the 28th of June. I immediately plunged.

Eleanor couldn't get the night off, but a friend covering the festival for public radio spoke for my adjacent seat. I'd worked in town all day, and had earlier plans to meet the beloved

greenquotebook and her fam as they were passing through the area code. We wound up at a wood-fired pizza joint not far from the festival, and loved the food (the service, not so much) before I had to meet up with the local czar of NPR. Parking was a bitch- even cheap city-owned garages were gouging, and JARVIS's idiot light came and stayed back on as I was tooling round- but I found an early departer outside the Former Midtown Plaza which was only two blocks from the festival's headline venue at the Eastman Theatre:




Yes, this was built back when George Eastman's corporation actually contributed to the culture of the city hosting its workforce.  In time, the four Divers came out, now joined by a fifth new member, on keyboards and, as needed and for one song leading, on vocals.  They played for almost two hours from their most recent album (which I bought in the lobby), the two that I'd previously bought, and even their major debut which was on Prime Audio on the way home. One of those early songs rhymed "Christmas" with "isthmus."  You simply cannot argue with that.

I could, however, get back to my car and home by a not-indecent hour. Pepper was missing me, and I tried a comfort call near the end of the show, but I guess it doesn't work unless it's in person.  All's been forgiven today, though, as she's walked with me, played with me, didn't mind me going to work for most of the day. Plus, she has her food- and we found a non-puppy mill outlet we can order it from going forward:)

And, by the time today was ended, the idiot light had turned itself back off. I'm not worried: I assume Santa sees it when it's sleeping, knows when it's awake, and knows when it's been bad or good so I'm just gonna enjoy my Lake.