Sun. Oct. 4th: The House Cafe: 263 E. Lincoln Hwy. DeKalb, IL 60115; $5 at the door; all ages; 7PM
Thurs. Oct. 8th: Moms Connected, DeKalb, IL; private show
Some comments from the evening:
"Hope you do it again. You made it feel like we were all together sitting in a living room."
"I could not have been more entertained or inspired . . . thank you."
"We had such a great time last night listening to the three of you. It was thoroughly entertaining! ...Let us know if you ever want to expand your playing territory... "
"...Thanks for a super evening...I went from laughing to crying ...I so connected with your music last night! ... I swear tension literally left my neck and shoulders listening to you... Kim + Greg + Kyle = A great way to spend an evening!! Thanks again..."
"Great job tonight! I was able to get in just before the intermission, so I caught the whole second half. Everything sounded great, and there was a fantastic turnout!"
"Do this again!"
Thanks for coming! More shows to come! Conact us to book a show at your business, organization or house, even! Pottery, CDs and booklets are still available from Sunday night's show! whitekb4@comcast.net
Come get Snowed In Together at The House Cafe in downtown DeKalb on Sunday, March 8, 7 o'Clock p.m. Cost is $5. Bring your friends, your enemies, your weird neighbor, etc. The House is a cozy spot for a mid-winter respite!
from "First Love" by Greg Wheaton:
from "I'll Take The Cornfields" by Kim Wheaton:
from "Sasquatch" by Kyle White:
"What could possibly be dangerous about being an elementary school kid in central Wisconsin?
Plenty, in the '70s.
I am not talking about the danger that comes from falling out of pine trees, or from being run over by the family station wagon in the dead of winter, or from taking a garbage can cover and a tree branch, climbing onto your bike, and charging at your brother in a joust back there on George Street.I am talking about deeper mysteries that lurk on the edges.
Sasquatch for one.
Bigfoot as he—it--was known to us rural white kids. Only leaving enormous foot prints, tufts of fur, grainy images and trembling children in his wake. That giant ape-like man. What did he want? Out there in the woods. Watching. I should have been praying for my counterparts in the Himalayas who had it worse: the cold and terrible Yeti. My wife remembers praying to Jesus every night that Bigfoot would stay away. I am glad to report that God answers prayers.
But there were other skulking menaces, too, like: Great White sharks; piranhas; killer bees; UFOs; nuclear missiles. At any moment they could’ve snapped us up. Stripped our flesh. Swarmed us. Abducted us. Fallen out of the sky and laid waste to us. Any one of them. Or all at once. We shivered together as we watched the made-for-TV drama,“The Day After”, and the impending nuclear winter.
All of this, and I have not even mentioned the mysterious danger of liquid nitrogen. Some scientist in a lab coat came to Amherst elementary school and poured an arctic liquid into a metal container, right there in the gym where we played dodge ball. Then, into that container, he slowly dipped a banana and then dropped it to the tiled floor. Ta-Daa! It broke into smithereens like tropical glass. He told us never to touch liquid nitrogen. But what if we came across this inexplicable liquid on the side of the road? That’s the information we really needed from that scientist. What if we accidentally touched it? What should we do then? Would it creep up our arms like ice from the back of the freezer and turn our flesh solid like petrified banana? Would we break into a million shards? Alone back there on George Street?
It could happen."
