Oskar Schell is the definition of precocious. Too witty and bookish by half, at the age of 12 the young Manhattanite resembles an overly reclusive college student, the kind that learns more than anyone but wouldn’t ever know it because he only ventures out of the dorm for class or the library. Oskar busies himself with a dozen hobbies and interests, and when he’s not studying entomology, creating jewelry or folding origami, he dreams up surreally complex inventions—most designed to protect people or animals from harm. Read more...

As I type this, I’m listening to Fred Eaglesmith’s 1987 album Indiana Road, as congenial procession of rural desperation as one can imagine. Sure the farm is up for auction, the kids are headed nowhere fast, couples are hanging together with threads thinner than guitar strings and yet in the quiet harmonies, there is hope and peace of mind. Eaglesmith appears at the Red Dragon tonight, and performers like him are what listening rooms are for. Read more...