Surf’s Up
6/10-6/12
According to the theory of localism, surfers indigenous to an area (locals)
or relocated to an area for a sufficient amount of time (transplants) have the right to smash the car windows of newbie surfers (kooks) who steal a great break. Gallery director Tim Brown isn’t saying Kansas Citians are going to destroy the vehicles of visiting artists, but localism is partly the idea behind Telephonebooth’s Panlocalgeofunkopolis. Brown says the intent of the 2004 Summer Salon, which includes mostly Kansas City-based artists but also some from out of town, is “to share the locals from all over while still keeping them situated in their own sensibility.” The concept is also in contrast to theme-based group shows, he explains. This show, he says, is “more in the spirit of democracy as a mosh pit rather than some carefully narrated theme of unity.” We’re stoked, dude.
Telephonebooth is located at 3319 Troost. Call 816-582-9812 for hours. — Annie Fischer
It’s fun in the sun — if you’re 21.
6/12-6/13
Juneteenth is the ideal summer festival: live entertainment, food, drink — and a date early enough in the season that revelers actually bask in the glow of the sun instead of cursing the blasted heat. This year’s event, Saturday and Sunday on Vine Street between 19th and 21st streets, has made a return to its 21-and-over age restriction, possibly to combat the rowdiness of past years. For youngsters who can’t get into the party, there are other events throughout the preceding week, such as a youth concert and a golf tournament. Call 816-483-1300 for more information. — Annie Fischer
Buy or Trade
WED
James Trotter is obsessed. He buys between 50 and 100 records every week. The thing is, Trotter has too much vinyl for his own good. To clear inventory for fresh discoveries, he hosts a record swap with wax-fiending cohort Fat Sal at Y.J.’s Snack Bar (128 West 18th Street, 816-472-5533) from 6 to 10 p.m. every Wednesday. While Fat Sal slings lasagna and pasta and Trotter samples singles in the corner, a crate of random records sits by the door awaiting perusal. “I love funk and soul, but it’d be pretty sad if that was all I listened to,” Trotter says. If the contents of the crates Trotter and Fat Sal have hauled in don’t appeal, traders can sit down and pick their brains or peruse the new copy of Wax Poetics. And if that doesn’t work, there’s always the farmers market across the street. — Michael Vennard
