Blog: Songs in the Key of Touche

When I was a young boy in the Indian Guides, my father and I wore rawhide vests and sewed patches on them and raced little wooden cars, which I assume did not exist back on the frontier, and we were called Lightning Bolt and Thunderbird, though I can't remember who was which. But that has nothing to do with anything really. So anyway, this week I'm not complaining about weekday concerts or Pittsburgh getting passed over, because just down the hill from Brillobox is another of the city's best small venues, the Thunderbird Café , and as [...]