If only the silver kitties were musical...

So I must say that I am digging Cheryl Wheeler's new album, Pointing At The Sun. Cheryl Wheeler is the celebrated creator of the Potato song, which is quite possibly the most ridiculous song ever written:




As expected, Cheryl has two polar opposites on the album: on one side, the sweet and profound and lyrical, and on the other, the utterly hysterical. One of my favorites of the former is a re-recording of Summer Fly, a quietly desperate song about relationships. Of the latter, well, I heard about this album from Mum, who said that the last three songs are about cats. Well, turns out they are about one cat, Cheryl's beloved Maine Coon named Penrod. Penrod himself even makes an appearance on the last song, even though he is... um... not entirely corporeal any more.

But before I explain what I mean by that, all throughout the month of April I was excited because Cheryl was going to come to Portland. I got Mum to get tickets for us, and we got to sit fairly close. As we were waiting for the show to start, a frumpy grey-haired lady in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants wandered through the crowd, and what was funny is that those "in the know" just sort of smiled at her and shook our heads. When the show began and she came on stage (her piano accompanist had been the opening act), she was dressed in the same t-shirt and sweatpants. She plugged in her guitar, looked out at the audience, then down at her clothes.

"Oh my god," she said, "What is wrong with me? I forgot to change into my concert pants!"

And then she shrugged and started playing. And that is soooooooooooo typical of her-- she is so amazingly funny-- she makes even tuning a guitar so hysterical you will pee your pants. Seriously. She's a nut-- absolutely brilliant, and absolutely insane. When I grow up I want to be just like her.

So anyway, this last song on the album, is all about Penrod's fifteenth birthday. However, when Cheryl went to record the song, Penrod had passed away at the ripe old age of nineteen.... and she had him cremated... and so when she went to record the song, she handed the drummer a baggie of "catash" (pronounced cah-TASH) and thus Penrod became his own percussion instrument. Behold:



I have to say that I came home from the concert with sore ribs from laughing so hard. If you have a chance to see her, go!