11.30.04 more is better

After yesterday's happy little interlude, we now return to our regularly scheduled dose of scorn, jaded negativity and bile. The catalyst is an item I saw in the morning paper about a survey conducted by the cloyingly named Center for the New American Dream. "Survey Confirms that Americans Overworked, Overspent and Rethinking the American Dream!" crows a press release on the site. "Eighty-eight percent (of Americans) believe that American society is too materialistic with four of five Americans saying that society is too focused on shopping and spending." The center's holiday-tips section features a variety of gift ideas, such as this one: "Stop throwing out corks and use them to make decorations. Skewer corks on strands of wire, alternating them with different kinds of beads, and twisting them into ornaments and garlands which can be hung around your home and given away as clever novelty gifts for fellow wine-lovers."

Now, it's pretty to think that Americans are going to get off the holiday treadmill this year and take a look at the Center's "nontraditional gift ideas" instead ("Buy renewable energy for a friend. Purchase 'renewable energy certificates' to offset travel or household energy use and promote the development of cleaner sources of energy."). But this little sidebar item in today's paper followed a holiday-weekend-long orgy of consumerism: approximately five pounds' worth of slick ad flyers, and articles about the hot and happening gift of the '04 season, the plasma TV. "According to a new Consumer Electronics Association survey, the most desired electronic gift item for this holiday season is a plasma TV," announced an article in Sunday's business section. "Of course, there are other kinds of TV sets (direct-view, projection and so on). But those big, thin, wide, wall-mountable screens look so good, they continue to make a statement even when they're turned off." Price: around $8,000.

"Users are indicating a preference for high-definition, flat-panel and plasma TVs this Christmas, rather than traditional festive gifts such as socks, perfume and sweaters," says an article at vnunet.com. "High-tech gadgets have surged to the top of the list of most desirable Christmas presents."

"According to the National Retail Federation, Americans will spend about $220 billion for the holiday season, up about 4.5 percent over last year," writes CNN.com's Julie Vallese. "Statistics show holiday spending usually takes about five to six months to pay off." Do you want to bet that some of the same people who claimed American society is "too materialistic" are also the ones slobbering over plasma TVs -- and running up massive amounts of debt to buy them?

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11.29.04 a birthday miracle

We interrupt the usual string of cynical comments about pop culture and modern trends to bring you a story of redemption, of -- dare I say it? -- happiness. It starts under the worst of circumstances, on my birthday, a day I had planned to spend enjoying a meal at my favorite restaurant, seeing the "Glamour" exhibition at SFMOMA, perhaps even taking in "The Incredibles" if time permitted. However, I was suffering from a nasty cold, feeling achy and miserable, my nose running nonstop. I was going nowhere.

Now, at thirtymmmmph, I'm a bit too old to get truly excited about my birthday. I can buy stuff for myself now; it's not like it was in the old days, when I would receive some incredibly cool toy, like an Easy-Bake Oven, and my Mom would cook my then-favorite dinner (chicken à la king in Pepperidge Farm puff pastry shells). But still, you don't want to be sick on your birthday, especially when it falls on a Saturday.

I was convinced it was going to be the worst birthday ever and I was feeling good and sorry for myself, even though Joe kept making me cups of tea and Cream of Wheat. Then the tide turned as I learned an important lesson: it is impossible to be depressed while listening to Eurodisco.

Yes, Eurodisco. The format isn't exactly smashingly popular here in the States, but if you have heard Kylie Minogue or the Pet Shop Boys, you get the idea. It still thrives overseas, where every year, a huge, international musical competition called Eurovision -- think of the World Cup and "American Idol" rolled up in one -- brings together artists from 40 nations, from Albania to the U.K. The songs aren't exclusively disco, but most of them are.

Since each country is represented by only one performer and one song, selecting the finalist is a big deal. In my homeland of Sweden, there were over 3,000 entries, which were winnowed down to 32 contenders. Four Swedish cities hosted semi-final rounds, with the top 10 vote-getters proceeding to Stockholm, where judges and the TV audience select the ultimate singer and song.

This all takes weeks, and is exhaustively documented on Swedish TV. Anyway, it turns out that the entire shebang is now available on DVD. And my aunt in Stockholm sent me those DVDs for my birthday. Six hours' worth of Melodifestivalen 2004, and I watched it all in one marathon sitting. It was fabulous.

Unlike "American Idol," Melodifestivalen is open to all comers -- old and young, famous and newcomer alike. This year's entrants included Sara Löfgren, a multi-tattooed 26-year-old; Hanson, Carson & Malmkvist, three sixtysomething women; E-Type, a long-haired dude in a Michael Schenker Group T-shirt who seemed to be under the impression he was a hard rocker even though his song "Paradise" was totally disco; Bubbles, five teenage girls who will make you think the Spice Girls are back; "Latin lover" Andrés Esteche, in case you thought Sweden needed its own Ricky Martin; and drag-queen duo After Dark, whose campy, over-the-top performance stole the show. The ultimate winner was Lena Philipsson, a sexy singer in her late 30s who is such a legend in Sweden that she was honored on a postage stamp in 1991 (unlike the U.S., you needn't be dead to enjoy that privilege).

By 1:15 AM, as Lena sang a reprise of her winning song, "Det Gör Ont" (It Hurts), and confetti rained down on her, I honestly thought it had been one of my better birthdays. When I woke up that morning, I never thought I'd feel genuinely happy that day. And yet, thanks to the healing power of Eurodisco, I was. Oh, and the homemade chocolate cake Stacey brought up didn't hurt either.

(P.S.: Lena went on to place sixth in the international competition; the winner was Ukraine's Ruslana and her song "Wild Dances." According to the Eurovision web site, Ruslana recently accepted a World Music Award in Las Vegas for being "The World's Best-Selling Ukranian Artist.")

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11.27.04 h.b.t.m.

Janet posted a link in the guestbook to Mod, a New York lounge which features a "comfort food" menu including Chex Party Mix, peanut butter and jelly sandwich ("served on Wonder Bread with Skippy Peanut Butter & grape jelly," for $6 -- but do they cut the crusts off for you?), tater tots, smiley face fries, Rice Krispie treats, and the piece de resistance, Mod Sushi ("cross sections of Twinkies, Yodels, Zingers and Funny Bones served with chopsticks"). Drinks include Ovaltinis ("Stoli Vanil and Baileys Irish Cream shaken with Ovaltine and milk") and Tang Tinis ("Stoli O, Triple Sec, Splash of OJ shaken with Tang").

There is a similar sounding bar in San Francisco called Butter, which allegedly serves up TV dinners and Spaghetti-O's -- unfortunately, they don't post their menu on the web the way Mod does. Since I'm not postmodern and kitschy enough to go inside, I haven't checked it out myself.

Note that these are bars that serve alcohol, so you have to be at least 21 to go inside. Maybe they should just go all the way and show old Saturday morning cartoons on monitors, and have a dress code of footie pajamas. Being a gwown-up is icky!

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11.24.04 eat it

As a small business owner myself, I am well aware of the risks, financial and otherwise, that entrepreneurs face, and I wish anyone well who chooses this path. However, occasionally someone launches a business that seems so misguided that I just have to wonder, "why did they think that would work?"

One business that I feared was doomed to failure was downtown Berkeley's Lip & Rib restaurant, which was burdened by one of the worst names ever. Indeed, it closed after a few months, and its storefront is now home to a computer gaming center.

Regular readers may recall that I am not a fan of the whole low carb diet trend. I have been bemused by the repackaging of so many products as "carb-conscious" (which, one wag suggested, simply indicates that "the manufacturer is conscious that the product contains carbs"). So when the Lo-Carb Locale opened on Solano Ave. in Berkeley back in August, I figured, "Eh, I'll give it three months." As it turns out, I was exactly right -- there are now "going out of business" signs pasted on the store's windows.

Now, I am no expert on diets, but common sense tells me that if you want to lose weight, eating Control Carb Classic Brownies, CarbSlim Cookie Dough Bites and Krispy Kreme low-carb doughnuts is not the way to go. It's all too reminiscent of the "Snackwell syndrome" of a few years back -- remember the fat-free cookies that were so popular supermarkets couldn't keep them in stock? One TV ad showed a horde of women shoppers attacking the "Snackwell Cookie Man" who was delivering a new supply of treats to the grocery store. Did Snackwells solve America's obesity problem? No, because they were incredibly high in calories, and people mistakenly figured they could eat as many of them as they wanted because they didn't contain fat. Down with fake food! Oh, and have a happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy the mashed potatoes.

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11.22.04 camouflanguage

I thought I was up on the latest lingo, but I wasn't familiar with the word "webinar" until I got a piece of spam that used the word in the subject line. Curious, I Googled the term, and got over 1,300,000 hits. According to this poorly-punctuated explanation at the web site of Communiqué Conferencing, "Webinar's [sic] are just like a conference room based seminar, however, participants view the presentation through their Web-browser and listen to the audio through their telephone."

If you love being able to drop such words into conversation, check out WordSpy. It doesn't include "webinar," but you will learn portmanteau terms like adultescent ("a middle-aged person who continues to participate in and enjoy youth culture" -- what, like Ted Leo concerts and Pixar movies?!), militainment ("news coverage of, or television shows about, war or the military") and nanostalgia ("nostalgia for an event that has only just finished"). Oh, and here's one for Star Jones: sponsored wedding. Oops, here's another one: bridezilla. And here's one for Hobie: furkid.

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11.22.04 baby, you're a star

For some reason, I tend to develop fixations on certain celebrity misadventures: Ashlee Simpson's lip-synching on "Saturday Night Live," the trials of Michael Jackson, Britney Spears' brief Vegas marriage, etc. I usually keep track of the latest haps by reading the invaluable blog Defamer on a daily basis. I actually know people who are so pop-culture ignorant, they think that Paris Hilton is just a hotel in France. (Pah-dum-pah! No, really. There are people like that in my book group.) If you can relate, I recommend a subscription to Entertainment Weekly and a TiVo season pass for VH1's "Best Week Ever," stat.

Nothing is too trivial to obsess about. My latest fascination is the wedding of Star and Al. We're on a first-name basis here, right? Surely you know that Star Jones, a co-host on ABC's daytime talk show "The View" (a program I have never watched, by the way), recently married her fiancé Al Scales Reynolds, and that she now prefers to be addressed as Mrs. Al Reynolds? I'm sure you've heard that their prenup states that Al will get no financial remuneration (or Al-imony, ha ha) from Star unless he sticks it out for at least two years. And that he's allegedly gay, and they're honeymooning in Dubai, and that Star had 12 bridesmaids, including Karenna Gore Schiff and Natalie Cole, and three maids of honor.

How to pay for an incredibly elaborate 500-guest wedding? Their web site states: "Over the years, we have had the pleasure of working with some of the best corporations in the world... all of whom are at the top of their respective industries. In planning our wedding, we have been blessed by their kindness and generosity. We are especially grateful to these corporate friends who have graciously helped us plan the wedding of our dreams..." Those "corporate friends" include Harlequin Romances, Payless Shoes, religious publishing company Zondervan (Grand Rapids-based!) and my personal favorite, Takeouts ("these clear, natural-feel silicone inserts add a full cup size to your bust line").

I'm hoping Star and Al have come to enjoy life in the public eye so much that instead of retreating into a dignified, quiet, private married life, they'll continue to provide us with entertainment for years to come -- or at least two of them. But if they do beat the odds, maybe their 10th anniversary party will be sponsored by Metamucil and Viagra.

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11.20.04 last tango in el cerrito

I always enjoy stopping by the supermarket very late at night. It's so interesting to see what people are buying, and then wonder: Why did that guy decide he had to go out at 11:30 PM to buy fifteen cans of Kern's mango juice?

Last night, the guy standing in front of me was purchasing three items: a pound of butter, a disposable camera, and a box of condoms. Sounds like someone had quite a night planned. (FYI: I was buying cold medicine and a jar of vegetable-base Better Than Bouillon.)

We finally got around to seeing Jill Tracy in "Welcome to the Hypnodrome." The show consists of three Grand Guignol plays, translated from the French. It's all a little on the cheesy side, but I have to say that Jill is marvelous in the two roles she plays. She has real star quality -- you can't take your eyes off her when she's onstage. Someone should cast her in a film noir, stat!

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11.18.04 desperate but not serious

Just my luck -- Nicolette Sheridan and Terrell Owens were both guests on late night talk shows recently, so my lineups page has been besieged by Googlers looking for the now-infamous clip of the steamy Monday Night Football intro. 11 of the top 12 searches at interbridge.com yesterday were for the over-Botoxed desperate housewife and the Philadelphia Eagle; the other one was for Colin Firth. The ladies love Colin!

Something that might be even scarier than the numbers station recordings mentioned below: Rod Stewart has released a new album of "standards." Brrrrr.

Joe wasn't feeling well yesterday and stayed home from work. He spent a few hours watching some of the extras on the "Star Wars" DVD set. I guess we can all agree that "Star Wars" is a classic film worthy of lots of bonus features, but hasn't the whole "outtakes and extras" thing gone overboard?

Which of these DVDs includes the most useless bonus feature?
a. "Joe Dirt" director's commentary by Dennie Gordon ("She made a point to concentrate on the real nuts and bolts of the filmmaking process; how she got certain shots, how the editing process worked, even which lenses she used and which film stocks she chose to shoot on..." -DVD Verdict)
b. "Legally Blonde Platinum Edition," a 2-disc set including magnets, a notepad and pen, and a collectible "clutch purse" outer box
c. "Kangaroo Jack," featuring "commentary on selected scenes by Kangaroo Jack himself" and "a behind-the-scenes look at how the camel fart noises were created"
d. "Freddy Got Fingered"'s optional "laugh track" -- hear an audience roar when Tom Green sprays Rip Torn with elephant semen

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11.17.04 yankee hotel foxtrot

Due to a damaged fiber optic cable, interbridge.com was down most of today (Wednesday). I apologize to anyone who felt deprived of my deep thoughts, or, more likely, of my lineups.

All Things Considered did a piece today on numbers stations -- shortwave broadcasts of anonymous voices reading seemingly random lists of numbers sequences, often in foreign languages. You can actually download four CDs' worth of numbers station broadcasts at archive.org. There's something about these recordings that is just unbelievably creepy -- I can't put my finger on why, but listening to them just sends a chill up my spine.

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11.16.04 nyc/la envy

A word about "Sideways": it is still in "limited release," i.e. playing on a relatively modest 144 screens. It will expand into about 500 theaters over the next two weeks, so it may yet hit your town (or more than one screen in your town). As David Letterman used to say, "Just pray that your city is selected." "A Very Long Engagement" will open in New York and L.A. later this month, and in San Francisco in mid-December. And for those who just can't get enough of my recommendations: "The Saddest Music in the World," touted in this space last spring, is now out on DVD.

I often check Rotten Tomatoes' upcoming-movies list to see what's due out, and few words annoy me more than "Limited in NYC/LA." What about the rest of us? I wonder. I know I shouldn't pout, since one of my best friends reviews films in Kalamazoo, Mich., where if they're lucky, "Sideways" may show up around Valentine's Day 2005.

I'm currently rueing the fact that "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou," my most-anticipated film of the holiday season, is being released in New York and L.A. on Dec. 10, and in San Francisco on Christmas Day. I've been calling the San Francisco Film Society recorded hotline on a daily basis to find out if there are going to be any preview screenings here. The ironic thing is that I don't even really like Wes Anderson's films all that much -- I enjoyed "Bottle Rocket," but "Rushmore" and "The Royal Tenenbaums" struck me as overly precious -- but his use of music is so brilliant and spot-on that they are worth seeing for that alone. The trailer of "The Life Aquatic," which I have seen, like, a zillion times, tempts me with its score: Devo's "Gut Feeling" and David Bowie's "Starman." Plus one of the stars is Bud Cort from "Harold & Maude," one of my all-time favorite films.

Which of the following is a valid reason to see a film?
a. You want to hear the soundtrack ("The Life Aquatic")
b. You heard Peter Sarsgaard has a nude scene in it ("Kinsey")
c. You've always felt Sarah Vowell would make a perfect superhero ("The Incredibles")
d. All of the above

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11.15.04 you will never find another love like wine

Regular readers know that I tend to be very, very picky about movies. Just because something gets fantastic reviews doesn't mean that my thumb will be pointing up. So when I say that I have seen the best film of the year, I truly hope that you will take my recommendation very seriously and go see this movie.

The film is "Sideways," directed by Alexander Payne, who is establishing a wonderful track record (his two previous pictures are "Election" and "About Schmidt"). In an industry which is all about compromise and marketing considerations, it seems like a small miracle that a film like "Sideways," with no major stars and a hero who is, quite frankly, a loser, could get made in the first place. But I'm so glad it did.

Paul Giamatti (best known for playing Harvey Pekar in "American Splendor" and Pig Vomit in "Howard Stern's Private Parts") is just sublime as Miles, a sad-sack English teacher still trying to come to terms with the end of his marriage two years ago. He and his buddy Jack (Thomas Haden Church) head out on a trip to Santa Barbara's wine country a week before Jack's wedding to the daughter of a wealthy businessman. Miles thinks they're going to be visiting vineyards and playing a few rounds of golf, but Jack has a different sort of vacation in mind -- he wants to sow his wild oats before his wedding day.

Jack meets an attractive woman named Stephanie (Sandra Oh) at a winery, and quickly arranges a double date, with Stephanie's pal Maya (Virginia Madsen) coming along to keep Miles company. The lies start flowing right away, as Jack tells the women their trip is to celebrate the publication of Miles' autobiographical novel. In reality, Miles' agent is getting nowhere trying to sell his book. Of course, it turns out that he and Maya are perfect for each other -- both are getting over divorces, and both are oenophiles (wine enthusiasts will adore this film). But will Jack's deceptions sink Miles' chance at happiness?

Along with its well-written and moving script, pitch-perfect performances, and beautiful wine country scenery, "Sideways" also has some of the biggest laughs of any movie this year. The two comic set pieces near the end of the film, one involving a missing wallet and the other Miles' car and a tree, are the two funniest scenes I've seen in ages.

Not as good as "Sideways" but still worthy of mention is "A Very Long Engagement," the new film from French auteur Jean-Pierre Jeunet ("City of Lost Children," "Amelie"). Set during and immediately after World War I, "Engagement" begins with the story of five soldiers, all court-martialed for allegedly trying to escape the fighting at the horrifying Battle of the Somme. In flashbacks, we find out who they were before the war, and who they left behind.

The story eventually focuses on one soldier and one girl -- the young, fresh-faced Manech (Gaspard Ulliel), obviously shellshocked by the violent death all around him, and his fiancée Mathilde (Audrey Tautou). After the war, Mathilde, handicapped by a childhood bout with polio, is determined to learn the fate of her intended; despite all evidence to the contrary, she is certain that he survived. Unbeknownst to her, another very different woman has embarked on a similar quest...

"Engagement" is sumptuously shot, with suitable-for-framing landscapes and golden sunlit colors in the scenes with Tautou, and unrelenting grays when we're on the battlefield. World War I was an ugly war in which over a million Frenchmen perished, and "Engagement" does not spare us the gory details. After the screening, Jeunet and an exquisitely bored-looking Tautou answered some questions from the audience, and the director said his inspiration for the battle scenes was Steven Spielberg's "Saving Private Ryan" -- he claimed he instructed his crew to watch it "a hundred times."

The only interesting factoid to come out at the post-show Q&A was that Jeunet had been approached to direct the fifth Harry Potter movie, "and I turned it down yesterday," he said (to audience applause -- snobs!). "Engagement" is a labor of love that he's wanted to film for many years; it's based on a novel by Sébastien Japrisot. One of the main contributions to the film is its portrayal of World War I, a conflict that has gotten a fraction of the celluloid attention of World War II. Another interesting feature: Jodie Foster turns up in a small role, doubtlessly leading many in the audience to wonder, "Who's that French chick who looks exactly like Jodie Foster?" before realizing that it really is Foster.

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11.12.04 justice

Thank goodness -- the jury has reached a verdict in the Scott Peterson trial, declaring him guilty. I've been avoiding all of the media coverage, which has been plentiful here (I live just a couple miles away from where Laci's body was discovered), mainly because I never got the fascination with this case. Sure, Laci was pretty and pregnant, but the sad fact is that people disappear every day, and why was a love triangle involving a Modesto fertilizer salesman, his wife and his mistress deemed worthy of endless People magazine and tabloid coverage? Besides, it seemed obvious to me that Scott was guilty -- you don't dye your hair and run for the border with thousands of dollars in cash if you haven't got something to hide. I had no interest in following all the twists and turns of the case.

On Nov. 22, the jury will return to decide if Peterson will be executed by lethal injection or spend the rest of his life in prison without parole. I hope they decide on the latter. A 32-year-old man waking up every morning knowing that he'll never enjoy freedom again, and having to reflect on the horrible things he has done... that seems like the harsher punishment to me.

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11.10.04 a very amway christmas

"Our hero is a little boy from Grand Rapids, Mich., lying awake on Christmas Eve... This doubting Thomas has... collected a file of evidence supporting his theory that there is no such thing as Santa Claus."
-Mary F. Pols, film critic, The Contra Costa Times, reviewing "The Polar Express"

For release on Nov. 10 - PR Newswire - Doug DeVos and Steve Van Andel, Chief Executives of the Amway Corp., part of the Alticor family of companies, announced today that Santa Claus has become an Amway Business Owner.

"Santa joins the more than 3.6 million business owners worldwide who have found in the Amway business a way to meet their goals," said DeVos. "We are proud this global icon will help bring forth our values of creativity, innovation, excellence and accomplishment."

"I was starting to get tired," said Santa. "Making and delivering toys to all the children of the world is a tough job for an old fat guy. Now, I can start recruiting others as Independent Business Owners to help me. And best of all, as my team's business grows, the rewards I earn will grow in proportion!"

This Christmas, lucky children can look forward to receiving L.O.C. Multi-Purpose Cleaner®, SA8 Laundry Concentrate®, Dish Drops Automatic Rinse Aid® and Pure White Foaming Cleanser® under the tree.

"Once the children's parents discover the incredible value and excellence of these products, we're sure they will want to re-order, and perhaps some of them will decide to become business owners themselves," said Van Andel. "Santa's image as a beloved, trustworthy figure may finally help us shake our reputation as a 'cult'. Shared business philosophies, encouragement, support, and a common vision should not be misinterpreted as a cult."

As part of Santa's agreement with Amway, his headquarters will move from the North Pole to Ada, Mich., and will henceforth be known as the DeVos and Van Andel Amway North Pole. It will join other Amway-monikered landmarks in the greater Grand Rapids area, including the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel, DeVos Performance Hall, DeVos Children's Hospital, DeVos Place Convention Center, DeVos Family Gift Shop, Van Andel Arena, Van Andel Museum Center, Van Andel Institute and the Van Andel Global Trade Center.

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11.9.04 a series of unfortunate events

I'm so proud to get an extra-special shout-out in today's edition of I read the comics so you don't have to. Yes, I continue to be way too obsessed by the funny pages, but we need them now more than ever, don't we? Check it out -- you still have time to Vote for Mary Worth/Rex Morgan in '04!

Tonight is my last "real" book club meeting of the year (next week we will gather at author Janet LaPierre's home to discuss her work); we will resume our weekly meetings sometime around Jan. 11, I would guess. So for two months, I'll get to choose all of my own reading material. That always provides sort of a pleasant feeling of liberation, although I'll miss the camaraderie of the group over the holidays.

Our final title is The Bridge of Sighs by Olen Steinhauer, an American expat living in Budapest. I learned on Mr. Steinhauer's web site that the book was issued in Sweden under the title Suckarnas Bro, which is a perfectly literal translation but still, you have to admit, kind of funny.

I ran into two members of my group on Saturday, when I was about 50 pages into the book. One confessed that she'd gotten about 25 pages into it and had to stop due to the book's unrelenting grimness; the other made it up to page 100 before calling it quits. Then and there, I decided that I was going to finish every last page, no matter what. And I did.

The Bridge of Sighs is extraordinarily tough going. The book takes place in the capital of an unnamed Eastern Bloc country in 1948. The protagonist, 22-year-old rookie homicide inspector Emil Brod, lost both his parents in World War II and lives with his grandparents. His first day at his new job is miserable; his fellow inspectors treat him with outright hostility. One even punches him in the balls. ("There was the momentary shock as his body doubled over, just before the tide of gut-pain that ripped through his stomach, intestines, legs, then everywhere.") However, this event is just an hors d'oeuvre for what's to come. While investigating his very first case, Emil gets too close to the truth and is shot at, which opens up whole new realms of hurt. "He was sinking in a warm, watery pain, an angry bathwater covering him in blackness." Later, barely recovered from his injuries, he is beat up by a pair of thugs: "The two men went at it together, laying into him with hard, rock fists... A steel-toed boot struck his shin, nearly breaking it, and he went down quickly to the damp earth... Rocks cut into his back as they leaned over him and swung..."

Our reading schedule is determined a few months in advance, but considering the political makeup of most of our group, I think this particular book was not the best choice for this week. The Bridge of Sighs is the noirest of the noir (there's even a hard-luck dame). Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's definitely not the book you should reach for when you need cheerin' up.

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11.8.04 another opening, another show

I'm going to try to take it a little easier this week, but last night, I was actually double-dipping -- dashing from a poetry reading at Cody's by one of my clients to a concert at Epic Arts, which is, fortunately, located just a few blocks away. As it turns out, I needn't have hurried; I arrived halfway through the opening act's interminable set. A young woman playing the wispiest kind of girl-with-guitar folk-pop, she appeared so tentative that I figured she was making one of her first forays out of her bedroom to play in public. Surprisingly, it turns out she has been performing for a few years now and has a CD out. I'm not going to name her in case she ever Googles herself. I'm nice that way.

I passed the time thinking about how much time I've wasted during my life sitting through dreadful opening acts, and trying to decipher the name of this play, from a postcard I picked up. "The Bright Pinon"? What the heck does that mean? I guess I'm not the only person who has trouble reading the graffiti font; I looked it up online and they've since made it more legible.

I was bummed to find out there was yet another opening act, but this was the rarest kind of openers -- a genuinely terrific band, Kenni & Company. Frontwoman Kenni played her acoustic guitar with confidence and verve, and her four-member band (including a stand-up bass player!) added spot-on harmonies. Their songs were joyous; the band members' onstage banter, amusing. Judging from her web site, though, Kenni appears to be BFF with the Bad Opening Act. Oh well.

The reason I was at Epic Arts in the first place was to see Rachael Sage, a New York-based performer whose road manager, Meredith, is active on an e-mail list I've been on for about 10 years. Meredith recently quit her boring day job to travel the country with Rachael, which I think is very cool and daring.

By the time Rachael came on, around 10 PM, there were fewer than a dozen people left in the tiny, living-room-like club, but to her credit, she performed as though there were many times more of us. Dressed glamorously in a fishnet blouse, beaded crocheted vest and a satiny sleeveless top, her eyes enhanced with massive amounts of glittery shadow, Rachael played her electronic piano and sang an hour's worth of songs that were a little reminiscent of Tori Amos or Jane Siberry. Her percussionist, meanwhile, played a cajon drum, which looks exactly like, well, a box -- I guess it can double as a nightstand or coffee table if you happen to need one. It was fascinating to watch; sometimes he sat on it and thumped it with his hands and feet, while at other times, he hit it with different types of mallets and brushes. If you happen to be in San Francisco, Rachael will be at the Red Devil Lounge on Tuesday night.

I had a vague memory of reading something about Rachael being fabulously wealthy and financing her career with her dad's money. A bit of Googling turned up this New York Times article, which reveals that Rachael's real name is Weitzman, and her dad is famed shoe designer Stuart Weitzman. As usual, glenn mcdonald puts it all in perspective: "If her father pays for [her albums'] creation, good for him. In a world with better popular judgment and fairer rewards, he wouldn't have to. In a better world, we would all spend more time playing."

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11.7.04 resurfacing

Honestly, I've just been really busy lately -- it's not that I've been completely overwhelmed by FOR PITY'S SAKE, YOU CAN'T GIVE OUT HUGE TAX CUTS AND SPEND ZILLIONS OF DOLLARS ON THE IRAQ WAR WITHOUT INCURRING ENORMOUS, SOUL-CRUSHING DEFICITS! I THOUGHT THE REPUBLICANS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE PARTY OF FISCAL SANITY!! -- sorry -- the election results, and felt unable to write. In the last week or so, I've seen three concerts (Emily Bezar, Ted Leo and Neil Innes), a play (Tom Stoppard's "The Real Thing" at ACT), a couple of movies ("Red Diaper Baby" and "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow"), attended a 30th-anniversary party for a bookstore, and -- let's see, am I forgetting anything? I can bore you with the details later, if you're interested. For now, let's just say that Ted Leo rocks.

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11.4.04 ...

I said, "I wonder how it is I'm standing here,
while war is raging everywhere under the sky?
I feel defeated here by everything, cheated here by everyone on every side.
I want to take you to a quiet place, and never ask the meaninglessness to reply.
When will we get an hour to celebrate, find the time to breathe a sigh?
I've been working too hard to be living, and later
Walking all night, until I'm shivering, and is it
Wasting the time that I've been given, to maybe
Wait for the day of oblivion?
I want to take it to the president, him and all the cabinet, with a broom.
I want to sweep the Halls of Arrogance, sweep the walls of the excrement of these baboons.
But I respect and prize the covenant -- I respect the process, I respect the rules.
When will we find a chord as resonant as to shake the sheets and make us move?
You've been working too hard to be living, and later
Walking all night, until you're shivering, and is it
Wasting the time that you've been given, to maybe
Wait for the day of oblivion?"

And she said, "Roll out and make your mark. Pull on your boots and march.
Then roll on and meet me where you'll find me doing my own part.
Roll out your dented car. Maybe it won't roll far.
But if you do everything you can, well babe, that's more than a start.
Roll out and make your mark. Pull on your boots and march.
Then roll on and meet me where you'll find me good and ready.
Sometimes it's gonna hurt. Sometimes you're gonna deserve it.
But if you hold on to what you've got, I know you'll keep it steady.
So there's no end to work, so there's no end to the murk.
So everything else is dirt, but I am pure and steady.
So cut out the morbid verse. I know you'll make it work.
And how're you gonna save the world, when the world ain't ready?"

-Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, "Shake the Sheets" (2004)

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11.2.04 my mission

About a week and a half ago, I wrote that I was planning to take a week off and attempt to do everything I felt guilty I hadn't accomplished -- write overdue letters and e-mails, finish pro bono web sites, etc. My success rate was mixed, except in one area. I also vowed I would try new recipes and cook more exciting meals. Well, I cooked with a vengeance, and even bought a new Calphalon pan. I made risotto and frittata. I roasted a whole chicken instead of throwing a couple boneless, skinless breasts in the oven. At the end of the week, I even got out my never-before-used Pierre Franey cookbook (purchased at a library sale for $2) and started making things with French names. Yes, it was spectacular -- and it also caused me to gain two pounds. So, new goal for November: health! Exercise! More low-fat foods, less shrimp and red peppers in cream-and-cognac sauce.

Thought for Election Day, from my page-a-day calendar: "A lie unchallenged becomes the truth."

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All content © 2004 by Sue Trowbridge