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Pssst...New Coffee Shop to Open on Rogers

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That's right. Was it really just over a year ago that the neighborhood was largely livid at its lack of latte? Well, looks like a little place will be opening up at Midwood and Rogers. The Q first heard the rumor at a post-Thanksgiving dinner, then the ever-on-it Babs met Rich the owner today, and sure enough soon enough you'll be able to express your love for espresso on The Rog. "The Rog," sometimes spelled "The Raj," as the Q just decided to call it for the first time, is rumored to have been named for local resident Barbara "Babs" Rogers' great great great great grandfather Benjamin "Bugs" Rogers of the notorious Pigstown Seven, a group known for its ruthless running of an blacksmithing cartel. (Apparently the article "an" was used before vowels and hard B's, T's and Y's before 1823, though that may just be a rumor).

Y'all I also heard a rumor there's an ACTUAL blacksmith on Rogers. This one is no joke, he has a gallery and everything. Will someone here post more info? I'm just too damn busy to chase down these leads, but who doesn't want something smithed from time to time? Or scythed for that matter (any scythers out there?) Maybe he has some objets d'arte for holiday presents. Colour me intrigued. Britishly so.

And speaking of "Rumours," or rather Rumors...

Today the Q indulged his poppier sensibilities with a bit of a guilty pleasure by putting on the 4th highest selling album of all time by, yes, Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks and company. I'm no huge fan, but I always perk up when the Mac comes on the radio, if only to listen to the delicious interplay between bassist John McVie and drummer Mick Fleetwood, and of course the out-of-this-world warbling of the Queen of Shawls. Rumors was flawlessly produced, with outstanding performances and a sheen that makes it sound like the record was actually made out of cocaine, which apparently was being consumed in large quantities by the band at the time (and the entire record industry as well), quantities of which probably fell out of workers' noses at the vinyl pressing plant.

So how weird is it to dial up the 30th Anniversary edition, which you can now do basically for free on Spotify or some subscription service like the one I've had for 10 years called Rhapsody, and see that not only do you get the original record but a ton of live performances and demos and outtakes of tunes you've basically heard your whole mother-loving life. So I listened, and at first I was intrigued by the strained singing and lame guitar and what probably was Lindsey Buckingham playing drums while Mick was out partying. And suddenly...all the magic was gone for me. These classic rock geniuses suddenly became regular old Joes and Janes trying to make a hit record. Listen to it...seriously, it's quite bizarre how these things ever made the light of day. What were they thinking? That we actually want to hear how bad they sound when they sing in the shower?

So much for rumors and Rumors. I honestly hope they never release Michael Jackson's demos, because I love his recordings so much I never want the Quincy-magic to disappear for me. The Mac I can take or leave, but don't mess with my Billy Jean. Or one of the 20th Centuries greatest artistic achievements..."Wanna Be Startin' Something." Gives me the goose pimples that one does.



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