Some favorite Roger Miller stories. From Wikipedia:

When he was seventeen, he stole a guitar, but turned himself in and chose to join the Army rather than go to jail. He later quipped, "My education was Korea, Clash of '52." Upon leaving the Army, he went to Nashville to work on his music career.

From the Roger Miller box set:

Roger Miller: I was raised in Erick, Oklahoma.
Interviewer: What's that near?
Roger Miller: It's close to extinction.

Ditto:

L.A. Cop: Can I see your license?

Roger Miller: Can I shoot your gun?

Paul Constant just made me a very, very happy man by loaning me his Roger Miller box set, which includes "Reincarnation," a song I heard once in high school and was never able to find again.

I should've just used YouTube:

We'll pass over the slide show—obviously made by one family member for another—in silence. But the song!

This month, Taproot Theater is producing Big River, Roger Miller's musical adaptation of Huck Finn. It's the first Taproot show I've been excited about in a dog's age.

SEATTLE: Jazz vocalist Ernestine Anderson's U.S. home has been saved from foreclosure — for now. Thanks, in part, to music legend Quincy Jones and contemporary jazz artist Diane Schuur.

More than $43,000 poured in — including donations from Jones and Schuur — after news stories about the Seattle jazz legend's financial woes, said Carmen Gayton, a friend of Anderson's family.

And now please enjoy Ms. Anderson singing a cover of that Buffalo Springfield song, "about the youth rebellion in Los Angeles."

Also covered: the Breeders ("Holy fucking shit!"); Isaac Brock’s banter (“Mumblemumblemumble had a shirt I was gonna wear mumblemumblemumble bullshit mumblemumble bullshit!”); Stephen Malkmus's banter (“I heard that yesterday it was raining sideways…crooked, crooked rain”); Death Cab for Cutie ("Death Cab is a stadium band now"); plus photos of Beirut, M.I.A., and former Stranger music intern Robin Pecknold (have fun in Europe, Fleet Foxes).

Sorry there's been almost nothing on Slog today, kids. It probably had something to do with how FUCKING GORGEOUS it was. Highlights: riding one's bike down steep, sylvan Interlaken Drive; then across the University Bridge (up in the air, Titanic-like); then (as the bridge slowly lowered) seeing Michael Seiwerath and his daughter on a two-person bike (with orange flag!); then that award-winning ride along Lake Union past Gasworks and past Fremont and past that part just past the Fremont Bridge ("Wait, am I in Europe?"), then a stop at Dutch Bike Co. Seattle in Ballard; then a weird salad and many soda refills at Baja Fresh; then riding along Westlake, in the shade of Queen Anne Hill, and passing the staggering sight of two half-crunched cars on top of each other and attentive, practically weeping police vehicles stretching in both directions; and, of course, a breeze and sunshine the whole way. One was going to write something long and reflective on Slog about Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton and Meet the Press and The O'Reilly Factor, but then one thought to oneself: I can do that tomorrow.

Because, man, what a FUCKING GORGEOUS day.

Who: A puppet show by the always awesome Sgt. Rigsby and His Amazing Silhouettes.

Also, music by Accordion Boy (also known as Nate Mooter of Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground, Strong Killings, and the Lashes).

Where: McLeod Residence.

When: Wednesday April 30 at 7 pm.

What else: Fish and chips. And whiskey.

How much: Suggested donation of $15.

Background: Last year, Sgt. Rigsby offered to donate a private puppet show for our Strangercrombie charity auction. Our own Ari Spool bought the package and, overachiever that she is, decided to double-down on the do-gooding: a puppet show bought for charity, repurposed into a fundraiser.

The result is like a miracle—everything anyone could want (Sgt. Rigsby, Accordion Boy, McLeod, Vera, whiskey) all in one place.

And asks...

I dunno if you've seen this, but it seems it was made for Slog. Watch it, and you'll keep singing along. I'd be curious about the accuracy of smelling dick. Does it take practice or is it pretty obvious where a dick has been? Unfortunately I'm unwilling to test it out.

Discuss.

by Blush Photo

Check out Obama at about 2:20.

And now, Jay-Z:

Just after I opened the email (which was forwarded to me), I found this heartbreaking photo essay of the evacuation of American newsrooms by an insider, San Jose Mercury News designer Martin Gee (thanks as always, C-Monster).

Renée Fleming, Frederica von Stade, and Kathleen Battle in probably the most affecting and beautiful moment in 20th century opera—the final trio from Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier.

Here I am in Anacortes, finally, and there's no moon. I was sure there'd be a moon. It was full a day or two ago, but tonight is cloudy and the sky is dark. "Why did we come here?" the Microphones are singing on my iPod as I wander around. "Someone made posters, and we called for directions."

I'm here to see Mount Eerie—formerly the Microphones, also known as Phil Elverum—perform at the Department of Safety, a converted fire station in the middle of sleepy downtown Anacortes that can't help but remind me of my old sleepy Eastside suburb and its own all-ages venue, also a decommissioned fire station.

But I'm really here for more convoluted, maybe embarrassing reasons. I'm here because the Microphones' 2001 album, The Glow Pt. 2, is being reissued this April by K Records, and I've been kind of obsessed with the album for the better part of my adult life. I'm here to try to understand where The Glow Pt. 2 comes from. I'm here because the opening lyrics of the album's third song, "The Moon"--"I drove up to the city at night/And found the place where you grew up"--have been stuck in my head for years, and I've decided to take the words as instructions: Anacortes is where Elverum grew up. I'm here because I hoped the moon over Anacortes might sing to me, might reveal some mystery. The moon, however, is not cooperating...

So begins Eric Grandy's fascinating feature this week about the Microphones' Phil Elverum, going to Anacortes to figure out where Elverum's songs come from, the history and importance of K Records (which is re-releasing The Glow Pt. 2 this week), how Khaela Maricich influenced Elverum's work, and the thriving scene in Olympia circa 2000, where Elverum was creating The Glow Pt. 2 while Grandy was in college at Evergreen. Possibly the best sentence in the piece:

I lived in a house, since burned to the ground, where Elverum played a Valentine's Day show during which he poured a bottle of red-colored corn-syrup blood over his head and all over the living-room floor.

The whole thing's here. (Oh, and: Here are three things Grandy forgot to mention.)

So if you're going to be in the neighborhood, here's what's on the schedule this week, according to an email from Mr. Moody (the Anne Bonny is closed on Mondays, by the way):

Wed the 9th: Eric Ostrowski (you may know him from Noggin)

Thu the 10th: Standup from Derek Sheen

Fri the 11th: Performance by Ezra Dickenson

Sat the 12th: Seattle's #1 funny lady Jen Seaman

Sun the 13th: The Portland-based arts journal YETI celebrates the release of YETI #5 with mirth and music and copies of the new issue which is only $11.95. (Okay, this event will last longer than 15 minutes.) YETI #5 is packed-to-the gills: An 80-minute CD with 25 rare tracks and 228 perfect-bound pages plus a gorgeous metallic 4-color cover by Saul Chernick.