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September 30, 2006

Fan Note: My Life as a Head-head

I am incapable of listening to music casually. There is no such thing as "background" music to me. This has consequences.

I consider music to be my, uhhh, vehicle of spirituality. By which I mean, some people sit through church sermons or read bibles, whereas I immerse myself in an album and believe my spirit feels just as enriched for the experience.

Even more specifically, Radiohead is my religion; their albums constitute the books of my Bible. I try not to use that statement lightly, although I am afraid most people do not grasp the seriousness with which I present it. The permanent inkings on my body pay homage to Yorke & Co. in the same way that a devout Christian needles a crucifix on his body to honor the Jeebster.

It is difficult for me to concisely summarize what it is about Radiohead's music that drives me to this level of fansanity. I am not sitting in a tree outside Thom Yorke's house with binoculars or anything, but that doesn't mean my first son won't be named after him. Radiohead's music is thought-provoking and complex. Their songs seem to have a purpose; they move through phases and grow, sometimes resulting in climactic spine-tingling finishes. And who doesn't like those?

Their six albums, each fantastically different from the next, showcase the (hopefully) endless shifting creativities of the band. Radiohead is comprised of five musical demigods who work together in composing music incomparably intriguing. The four lesser-known ingredients of Radiohead (Colin Greenwood, Johnny Greenwood, Ed O'Brien, and Phil Selway) provide the most reliable accompaniment out there; Yorke's voice is merely the icing on the greatest cake you've ever tasted.

I fear now, and always have in regards to this musical topic, the inadequacy of my words. Certain passions drive certain peoples to speechlessness. As a bonafide talker and amateur writer, it is rare for an occasion to render me mute. Or worse than mute - dumbfounded; cycling barbarously through two or three puny statements (eg; "Wow, holy shit. Whew. Shit. Wow . . . wow, man. Shit.").

I'm telling you this now on the occasion of Thom Yorke's solo album release. I can also report that Radiohead played in Chicago this past June, and I am still in an incoherent stupor. Hundreds of dollars poorer yes, but incalculable amounts of beauty and fulfillment richer.

* * *

I first saw Radiohead live in Grant Park (specifically, Hutchinson Field) on August 1, 2001. That night remains ferociously real in my mind. It was the culmination of years of listening to their music and never believing in their actual earthly existence. Simply focusing my eyes upon Radiohead, as they recreated the songs that scored my adolescence and the years to follow, well, it was surreal. Many people these days chronologically reference life in terms of pre- or post-9/11. I reference pre- and post-8/1.

I next saw Radiohead in 2003, at the far less impressive Alpine Valley. The Grant Park show highlighted the release of back-to-back albums Kid A (2000) and Amnesiac (2001). The Alpine Valley show was built around Hail to the Thief (2003). The Grant Park show was set at the feet of the incandescent backdrop of the most beautiful skyline in the world. The Alpine Valley scene was impersonal, the crowd was lame, and the sound was eaten in the vast, steep openness of the valley. I was disappointed, to say the least.

So when the rumors began early this year that a new album and a North American tour was brewing, I was a wee bit excited. By spring, there was no chance the new album would be ready, but a small tour was still in sight. The North American dates were released slowly, and Chicago was one of the first and only definite bookings. But where? Noise complaints deterred a return visit to Hutchinson Field. Millennium Park's Pritzker Amphitheater was booked by the orchestra. Please, oh God please, not the First Bank thingamajig in Tinley Park . . .

And then the gods smiled: The Auditorium Theatre.

The acoustically-perfect Auditorium Theatre is an ancient beauty of a building; intimate seating, acoustics rich enough to make your ears dance, gold trim and classically painted muraled walls just waiting, no, begging, for Thom Yorke's other-worldly voice to shake them. Holy crap, I had waited my whole life for this tour stop.

The shows finally came after a particularly long month of May. Sitting in the gallery of the Auditorium the first night was beautiful, yet slightly scary to be flailing at such a great height (even Thom pointed out that we were "way fucking up there").

The second night was even better. For the small price of my second-born child (my first-born, I am told, was already compromised at a less-than-lucid White Sox game), I was able to get one ticket, third row of the first balcony. Also, the couple next to me gave me the aisle so that I could sufficiently boogie. I appreciated their kindness for appreciating my madness.

Since the new album is yet to be released, Radiohead decided to use the tour to work out the kinks in their new material. Each concert, we were treated to at least eight new Radiohead songs in their unrefined stages. One of the greatest moments from the second show was when Thom requested we bear with them, as they had just tried tinkering around with the next new song that day in Chicago; they liked it and they hoped we would too. This was the debut of "All I Need," a song so uncooked that Thom spent most of it standing up at the piano to direct traffic with his eyes as his bandmates worked through it. Chills.

* * *

Radiohead's new music is brilliant - and I'm not just saying that as a "sycofant." At times, the new music is reminiscent of their earlier days - the driving guitars on lesser-revered albums such as Pablo Honey (1993) and The Bends (1995), and even so far as the stand-out rocker "Electioneering" on OK Computer (1997). Their return to simplistic rock 'n' roll is a long-awaited one for me. But to say it's like "old Radiohead" is too easy; there is still a noticeable difference in this latest change of direction.

For example, in the punky new tune, "Bangers n Mash," I am reminded of the attitude on Pablo's "How Do You," but the work comes with an extra layer of excitement and fervor. It's almost as though the 13 years of maturation between the writing of these songs can be heard in all the instruments; from Johnny's snake-charming guitar, to Phil's over-worked high-hat, to Thom's best attempt at making his voice ugly and gritty, as he pounds away on a mini-drum kit and screams "I got the poison!" This coming from a man who has for so long accepted that his heavenly voice was ostensibly incapable of such griminess.

So basically, the new stuff rocks. Even "Nude (Big Ideas)," a newly reworked old B-side that was highlighted in almost every show of their 2006 tour, is now somehow a lovelier version of a song that was already gorgeous.

Since 1997, waiting for each new album has been an exercise in shaky nerves and giddy anticipation. Assuming, as I did back then, that no musical compilation could ever again touch the glory of OK Computer, I have always feared the disappointment of a just okay Radiohead album. It is a serious worry that plagues my existence, and perhaps that is why I am so joyous every time they come through with another masterpiece.

I sense now that Thom Yorke is more certain and self-assured than ever before. For a man already known for risky musical endeavors, he is especially risky - and frisky - these days. I am sure the man has always been secure in the grandeur of his voice, but there is something different in his demeanor lately, too. I saw it in his performances this summer, and I've seen it in his recent interviews. He finally seems fully comfortable giving us whatever he wants to give, whether we like it or turn away. He is still experimental as ever; experimental for Thom Yorke and Radiohead is going back to the riff-centric songs of the early days.

The new songs are patient, well thought-out, and deliberate. And not surprisingly, we freaking love it. Let Johnny play that guitar until his fingers are dizzy and all the snakes have been charmed from their baskets! The Head-heads are here to listen, at your mercy. We got the poison.

Posted by Don at 08:43 AM | Permalink

The Smudgeless Rub of a Solid Eraser

You know how most pencils have those little rose-colored erasers at the end? Every once in a while, I come across one of those erasers, and for whatever reason, it doesn't erase for shit. These erasers are rigid and almost waxy; they smear my errors into leaden skid marks around the page, snickering as my mistakes are highlighted, somehow bolder and more permanent than they were before the futile rubbing.

Thom Yorke's first "solo" effort, The Eraser, is a jigging album; its charm is its simplicity, and the cleanliness of Yorke's hauntingly sublime voice (a crispness that is sometimes smudged on Radiohead albums, due to the equal talents of each band member). Yorke's hesitation to label The Eraser as a solo album is understandable. Like a television spin-off series, a solo career can imply the failure of a larger work, often marked by bitterness from remaining members of another venture. In this case, though, Radiohead strongly supported Yorke's solo pursuit (guitarist Johnny Greenwood even provides piano for The Eraser's title track), and moreover, the release of Yorke's album coincides with the promising buzz of a seventh Radiohead album.

Radiohead spent most of June charming North American cities, further enticing the appetites of all us salivating Head-heads, who are now quite accustomed to (although never happy about) waiting several years between new albums. The Eraser is kind of like that one little gift that your mom lets you open on Christmas Eve, in order to sustain your greedy self until the main stash can be torn into the following morning (or in this case, until the next Radiohead album is released, hopefully in 2007).

Yorke's album, although mostly categorized as "electronic," is far from the electronic music that pulses and thumps and dry-humps in a nightclub on a Saturday night. Underneath the mellowing electronic beats on The Eraser, there is still a dependence on traditional instruments to drive songs. The layers of each composition serve as a reminder that Yorke actually sat down and composed this work, and didn't just sample beats on his computer and then add words.

In the great melodramatic tradition of Yorke's work, The Eraser evokes some degree of emotion, even when simplistically beating through the sterility of its genre. The track "Skip Divided" is Thom Yorke at his most straightforward, musically and lyrically speaking:

When you walk in the room I follow you 'round like a dog
I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a lapdog
I'm your lapdog, yeah
I just need a number and location.

Here, stripped of his typical loner complexity, Yorke transforms into a creepily blunt and confident version of himself, ready to flap around and dive-bomb your head as he wishes.

I've had people express to me that some Radiohead music is moody and difficult to stomach at times (I have no idea what these people are talking about). I've even had others tell me that Radiohead music makes them depressed. (Nope, no idea at all.) But like many things - psychotropic substances, for example - Yorke's music is all about the mental approach of the participant. The Eraser is well-paced, even sometimes upbeat, and there is no room for tears or attempted suicide on this album.

The only place that might inspire eye moisture (in a good way) is the final track, "Cymbal Rush." This track is the most memorable of the nine, led by a simple piano part and the Yorke-ian style of song-layering, as seen on Radiohead songs such as "Fake Plastic Trees," "Exit Music" and "You and Whose Army." All these songs begin with the instrumental bare minimum escorting Yorke's vocals, and then piece-by-piece, blossom into full-fledged affecting anthems of glorious resolve and clarity. If you know what I mean.

The end of "Cymbal Rush" follows this same climactic effect, kicked into motion by a distant, but approaching drum kit and a caressingly assertive piano that reminds of Radiohead's dreamy "Pyramid Song." This entrancing melody makes way for Yorke's voice, seeming to approach from a distance. He continues to build the song up the octave, getting louder and more passionate the sharper he gets, spinning his vocals in a predictably exciting way, continuously building and warming the cockles of your heart, when, all of a sudden, just as you are about to run out and get another tattoo paying homage to this brilliant man, everything cuts out . . . all that is left is the electronic bleep-bloopy thing that began the song.

Overall, The Eraser is not Radiohead, but is undoubtedly Thom Yorke. I enjoy every track on his album, but often wonder if that's not because I admittedly worship anything Yorke produces. The guy could armpit-fart a minor scale, and I'd still somehow find the beautiful genius in it. Sure, certain songs on The Eraser are more interesting than others, but even a mediocre Thom Yorke song is better than most of what else is out there.

If you are like me, a Radiohead devotee who lusts for new music, Thom Yorke fills the void with The Eraser, now three and a half years removed from the band's last official release. Just like a tube of Carmex in a chapping winter wind, The Eraser is soothing and sustaining during this especially trying Radiohead drought. And given the right mindset, it evens makes you jig a little.

Posted by Don at 07:59 AM | Permalink

September 29, 2006

The Weekend Desk Report

Your weekly chronicle of global lying, spying and detainee flying.

What's Dunn is Dunn
The House of Representatives this week took aim at the corporate practice of "pretexting," stating unequivocally that such behavior is completely unacceptable for anyone who isn't the President of the United States.

The Thais that Bind
The U.S. government also acted this week to levy sanctions against Thailand in the wake of a recent coup. The State Department stressed that deposing an elected leader through military force is completely unacceptable for anyone who isn't the President of the United States.

Stan and Deliver
Meanwhile, President Bush hosted the world's most awkward dinner party this week, as Pakistan and Afghanistan prepare to enter the divvying-up friends phase of their ugly divorce. Aides have confirmed the situation has become so unbearable that Bush is looking to ditch them both in favor of the more emotionally-stable Kazakhstan. Hey, it may have its baggage, but at least we know it's not sleeping with the enemy.

Use Your Delusion I
Meanwhile, Al-Qaeda second-in-command Ayman al-Zawahiri continued his campaign of relentless shit-talking, offering to throw down with everyone from Bush to the United Freaking Nations. For his part, the president indicated he is willing and, now, able to cut a bitch.

Use Your Delusion II
Finally, Bush had withering words for anyone who opposed his new hard-core attitude, saying, "you don't create terrorism by fighting terrorism." Unless you happen to be Great Britian. Or Israel. Or Columbia, Russia, or Rajiv Gandhi. Everyone else, though, should suck it up and join the war.

Posted by Natasha at 11:30 PM | Permalink

Tommy Keene's Pop Power

Ever since I told people I was going to see a Tommy Keene show, I've found it suprisingly hard to explain to these folks (mostly 20-somethings) just what "power pop" is. I always knew it was a niche, but I also always thought it was quite a substantial one. Now realize I was so far into it during its heyday in the 1980s - which in turn made me ultra-aware of how it was influencing vast swaths of the rock kingdom - that I just assumed most music fans, even the younger ones, knew what it was.

Apparently not.

You could say the Beatles in their skinny tie period were the inspiration and that The Who (some would say the Kinks) were the first real power pop band with everything since being either an imitation or a tribute to them. Tommy Keene certainly would, and did, when I talked to him after a show in late September at 400 Bar in Minneapolis.

Keene, at 47, is a king of the music underground, thanks to his years of soldiering on as an artist who managed to maintain his integrity after one or two famously dodgy set-to's with major labeldom early in his career put him permanently off the fast track. But more importantly, he's probably the purest practitioner left standing in the power pop field . . . a field that seems to getting mighty small judging by the blank stares I get just by mentioning it.

The long line of power pop arguably started in 1965 with "I Can't Explain," and wound through Badfinger, the Raspberries, Cheap Trick, Elvis Costello, XTC, Matthew Sweet and all the way up to Fountains of Wayne. But I wonder, is Keene the last of his kind? Because, though he still goes about his art with unabashed unenthusiam, and expertly wields the essence of power pop itself through his still-awesome guitar skills, going to his show made me uncomfortably aware of the genre's fallen status. The quite substantial niche I had imagined seems to have shrunk to a roomful of about 30 middle-aged guys, all of whom (and no one else) were at the 400 Bar that night.

The irony is that the music still holds up, and if it is dying as an art form, it's a sadly unjust demise. Keene and his bandmates, drummer John Richardson, bassist Brad Quinn, and guitarist Dave Phillips, play a stately and majestic form of power pop, specializing more in big, jangly riffs than in nimble melody-making. Keene likes to build into thundering finishes with huge chords reverberating into the, well, ether. It's a signature sound that has been incorporated so thoroughly into the mainstream that it came as a shock to hear straight from the source - I admit I didn't know it came from Keene. But there you have the paradox of his position.

Crashing the Ether is the 10th solo album in a long and winding career for Keene, who at one time was considered one of the up-and-coming major label prospects for Geffen Records. After the Minneapolis show, he talked a bit about that golden time in the '80s when power pop was riding high as the legitimate successor to '60s rock and '70s punk, and how he, Paul Westerberg, and Peter Buck were the three amigos and les enfants terrible of guitar pop. While Buck attained major stardom and Westerberg became the greatest indie/hipster hero of the age, Keene fell through the music business cracks after a rocky stay at Geffen that begat a still-simmering tiff between him and Geoff Emerick, the former Beatles engineer who was assigned to produce his album Songs From the Film (1986).

That effort, now seen as a pop-rock classic, was a critical success but a disappointment at the cash register, and Keene was never again given the star treatment from the majors. He spent much of the '90s slinging his inimitable, shimmering guitar stylings as a top-notch sideman to Westerberg and others, and lately has developed a strategic relationship with the post-Guided By Voices Robert Pollard. In fact, the two of them this year released an album as The Keene Brothers, with "talk," Keene says, of another such collaboration sometime soon.

So, for the aging fans of power pop (such as myself), it's possible to listen to Tommy Keene and imagine the genre is still a force because Keene has never stopped approaching it as something vital, as tracks on Crashing the Ether such as "Black & White New York" and "Lives Become Lies" amply demonstrate.

"What I'm doing is mining a niche here, really," he says in the basement of the 400, tending to a finger he has ripped open on stage, literally shedding blood to keep the power pop dream alive. "It's a consistent style, and when you hear my songs, you can be fairly certain of what you're going to get. I'm always trying to keep it fresh, though. I'm always trying to keep it interesting and keep it heading in different directions."

I just wish I felt more confident that the milieu, which has always lived in that special spot between the smart, the sweet and the rockin,' had much of a future. But you never know - maybe the kids of one of those old guys at the bar will pick up their dad's collectors' copy of Songs From the Film and feel inspired enough to rip off a series of power chords, jump up and down like a maniac, and sing about love like an angel. Only then, I fear, will power pop be safe.

Posted by Don at 03:21 PM | Permalink

What I Watched Last Night

Pat Bataillon is on his way to watch a football game in Nebraska. He'll watch more TV for us next week.

Posted by Lou at 11:10 AM | Permalink

The [Friday] Papers

If today's front-page account in The New York Times is any indication, Bob Woodward's new book, State of Denial, is a blockbuster. Among the revelations as reported by the Times:

* "The White House ignored an urgent warning in September 2003 from a top Iraq adviser who said that thousands of additional American troops were desperately needed to quell the insurgency there."

* "As late as November 2003, Mr. Bush is quoted as saying of the situation in Iraq: 'I don't want anyone in the cabinet to say it is an insurgency. I don't think we are there yet.'"

* "Secretary of Defense Donald H. Rumsfeld . . . [was] so hostile toward Condoleezza Rice, then the national security adviser, that President Bush had to tell him to return her phone calls."

* "Vice President Cheney is described as a man so determined to find proof that his claim about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq was accurate that, in the summer of 2003, his aides were calling the chief weapons inspector, David Kay, with specific satellite coordinates as the sites of possible caches. None resulted in any finds."

* "On July 10, 2001, the book says, [then CIA director] George Tenet and his counterterrorism chief, J. Cofer Black, met with Ms. Rice at the White House to impress upon her the seriousness of the intelligence the agency was collecting about an impending attack. But both men came away from the meeting feeling that Ms. Rice had not taken the warnings seriously."

* "In the weeks before the Iraq war began, President Bush's parents did not share his confidence that the invasion of Iraq was the right step, the book recounts. Mr. Woodward writes about a private exchange in January 2003 between Mr. Bush's mother, Barbara Bush, the former first lady, and David L. Boren, a former chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee and a Bush family friend.

" The book says Mrs. Bush asked Mr. Boren whether it was right to be worried about a possible invasion of Iraq, and then to have confided that the president's father, former President George H. W. Bush, 'is certainly worried and is losing sleep over it; he's up at night worried.'"

* "The book describes an exchange in early 2003 between Lt. Gen. Jay Garner, the retired officer Mr. Bush appointed to administer postwar Iraq, and President Bush and others in the White House situation room. It describes senior war planners as having been thoroughly uninterested in the details of the postwar mission.

"After General Garner finished his PowerPoint presentation - which included his plan to use up to 300,000 troops of the Iraqi Army to help secure postwar Iraq, the book says - there were no questions from anyone in the situation room, and the president gave him a rousing sendoff."

Texas Straight-Talker
"Woodward: Bush Concealing Level Of Iraq Violence."

Fairy Tale
The Tribune editorial page thinks our "Goldilocks economy" is just swell. And it is - for people like them.

CHRIS MATTHEWS: The economy. David, you`re up in Harvard. Is this economy doing great or not?

DAVID GERGEN: Depends on whether you're in the investor class or not, and you know, what you own.

This is a great economy in terms of growth . . . If you look at the numbers on the growth side, it looks great. But in terms of my actual life, most people find that their incomes are stagnant and they cannot afford the higher cost of health care and many other - and gasoline and many other things that are coming their way, and that`s why they're very unhappy . . . a lot of people are hurting. You know, it's a great economy for some people at the top half of the scale. All of us here on this program doing pretty darn well. I think we're all happy.

The Smartest Columnist on Earth
Neil Steinberg argues today that blacks are better off because of slavery and Jews are better off because of the Holocaust.

King Richard I
We already have a Cook County board president, and his name is Richard M. Daley.

King Richard II
"[A]lmost as soon as the LaSalle Central TIF receives its stamp of approval from the City Council it will jack up property taxes and start diverting what will eventually be hundreds of millions of dollars earmarked for the schools, parks, and county into a slush fund controlled by the mayor," Ben Joravsky writes in the Reader this week, in his latest installment on Daley's secretive tax districts. Had enough?

On Message
Mike Noonan, Todd Stroger's campaign manager, said on Chicago Tonight earlier this week that his candidate "has an important message."

I think it might be that he's had enough too and he's voting Peraica.

Spot the Tool
"'The voters are starting to realize the truth about phony Tony. Tony Peraica would say anything and do anything in order to implement his radical rightwing agenda on the good people of Cook County,' said Mike Noonan, Stroger's campaign manager.

"Stroger's campaign manager did not, however, answer repeated questions about Stroger's relationship with Gerald Nichols, except to say that Nichols is not part of the campaign."

Putnam County Press
I usually don't point out ticky-tack stuff like spelling errors in the papers because, God knows, I make enough of them myself, though I don't have a team of people paid specifically to keep such mistakes out of print. Nonetheless, I thought it worth mentioning, amusedly, that a colleague points out the Sun-Times spelled both Mahatma and Gandhi wrong in a story this week.

Pick to Click
I'm not sure I can think of a better thing to do over the weekend than this. Whack-a-Mole and a Heavy Metal Note Holding Challenge.

The Beachwood Tip Line: Make a little history.

Posted by Lou at 07:31 AM | Permalink

Life at Work

When I was about four, I made my mom buy me a Superman costume for Halloween. It was the beginning of a series of let-downs.

My mom tells me she was often frustrated at my insistence on dime-store costumes - the year before, when my peers were in cute homemade ballet and scary vampire gear, I was in a vinyl plastic Bugs Bunny costume, happy as, well, a rabbit.

But Superman was, as far as my preschool teachers were concerned, pushing the envelope. Nevermind there were several other Supermans at school. This was a gender issue, and they were sticking with it.

I insisted all day that I was Superman. "Supergirl," they corrected. And at the Halloween parade, I was announced as "Supergirl," which pushed me into a blind rage.

Why? Why, for one day, couldn't I be Superman? Whoever heard of Supergirl? What the hell had she ever done?

It was the worst Halloween ever - aside from the one many years later when I sprayed my hair pink to be a punk rocker with stuff that was supposed to wash out of my hair, and instead had to endure six months of taunts from my schoolmates as "the girl with pink hair." And, actually, I kinda liked the pink hair.

We are raised in a culture that lies to us from day one. We're told again and again that we can be "anything we want to be (especially if we apply ourselves)." That's obviously a big fat lie.

I know mining is really dangerous, as evidenced by the tragedy at the Sago Mine, but I've always been kind of attracted to it. Something about the dark, and the comraderie, and so forth. So, d'ya think I could be a miner? Nope. I've got bad lungs already.

I was once really really desperate to learn goat husbandry in the Arizona desert. Didn't happen. Thanks, mom and dad. In retrospect I kind of get it, I guess. "Well, our oldest is working on her master's, and our son is an attorney, and our youngest breeds goats." Not the kind of cocktail conversation they wanted to have.

I entertained notions of entering both conventional and veterinary medicine until I started taking the science classes needed just to take the tests and realized that dropping high school chem had been a mistake.

The one thing I was always pretty good at was writing and, well, here I am. Not a field rife with opportunity.

Everyone I know, at some point, was denied the opportunity to do or be something they really wanted to do or be, whether whaling or documentary film-making. This isn't a world where you can really be whatever you want to be - even if you apply yourself.

I don't have kids, but if I ever do, I won't give a rat's ass if they want to be Superman for a day, or a month, or a year. Everybody's got to have a dream.

J. Bird is the Beachwood's pseudononymous workplace affairs reporter who no longer has a workplace to report from. Now Bird sends dispatches from the front lines of unemployed ennui. Catch up with the Life at Work series here.

Posted by Lou at 07:06 AM | Permalink

September 28, 2006

The Blue & Orange Kool-Aid Report

In conjunction with The Beachwood Reporter, Over/Under Enterprises is proud to announce a new product:

"The Bears Bandwagon Fan Starter Kit"

As you know, the most exciting part of being a fan is watching your team win it all. Nothing instills more pride in city than a championship. In this busy world, sometimes we are unable to follow the local teams' progress. On the other hand, we don't want to be left behind when the local team becomes successful. With "The Bears Bandwagon Fan Starter Kit", you can now say "I've always loved the Bears . . . since they started the season 3-0".

With "The Bears Bandwagon Fan Starter Kit," you receive the following:

* Do you still have Cade McNown and Kordell Stewart jerseys? This package includes a player's last name printed on navy blue material, so you can iron over your existing name to create a new jersey. Select from the following options:

a) Convert Cade McNown to Rex Grossman
b) Convert Mark Carrier to Thomas Jones
c) Convert Raymont Harris to Adrian Peterson
d) Convert Tom Waddle to Mushin Muhammad
e) Convert Kordell Stewart* to Bernard Berrian
*(additional $20 for conversion of "1" to "8".)

* Do you have four Cubs hats from the failed 2003 run? With this package, you also receive the pointy nub that you attach to the left of the Cubs insignia, and a colored marker to turn it orange. Show you are such a big fan by showing your new "Limited Edition" Bears hat.

* Do you have a passing knowledge of Bears history, but know nothing of the current roster? Use our new cocktail conversation flash cards to impress longtime fans with your Bears knowledge. For example, "That Bernard Berrian sure reminds me of Willie Gault."

* The first 1,000 Bandwagon fans will also receive "A Guide To Jeff Joniak's Most Overexcited Phrases" Be a hit in the office with this hilarious, yet informative device. Land that $3 million account? Let Joniak bring it all home with "THOMAS JONES, RUNNING WITH PURPOSE, GAIN OF THREE!" Travel to five locations in a week, express your glee with "DEVIN HARRIS, THE WINDY CITY FLYER!" Spot Jenkins sneaking out early for the third consecutive day? Let Joniak put him in his place by exclaiming "TOMMIE HARRIS CUTS THROUGH THE LINE AND STOPS HIM AT THE FIVE, NO! GAIN!"

Don't be the last on your block to sound like a fan and get this package. Much like playoff wins since 1986, supplies are limited!

Irony on Display
I've spent some time discussing the formula for a great team. And yet, in weeks 1 and 2, I failed miserably on my picks. Finally, I found the formula for picking at least one game correctly (1-0-1). Sure, I picked the Bears/Vikings game as correctly as possible, and even mentioned that "The Vikings line will not hold off the front four for the whole game, and especially when it counts." Sure enough, a fourth quarter sack and fumble set up the Bears winning drive. If only my analysis preceding this prediction was as accurate.

You see, I made a factual error in stating, "The Vikings barely beat Carolina, who barely beat the Lions." In fact, it was Seattle who barely beat the Lions.

But you know what? It worked.

So this week I will again use faulty information in making my picks.

Seattle at Chicago, Sunday, October 1, 7:15 p.m.
Shaun Alexander continues to dominate defenses with his hard running through consistently huge holes. Steve Hutchinson and Walter Jones lead an offensive line that protects QB Jim Zorn without fail. Heck, once this new LB Brian Bosworth develops, this defense will help the Seahawks defend their Super Bowl Championship.

Do the 2-1 Bears have the talent to compete at home? Well, since the Bears continue to languish at home, I must say no. In the trailer for Stone Cold, Brian Bosworth said "Imagine the future, Chains, 'cause you're not in it."

Just like what the Boz (#55) did to Bo Jackson, the Seahawks will do to the Bears.

(Seriously) Pick: Seattle over 3.5 points/under 36 points

For a Bears win:
Sugar in the Blue & Orange Kool-Aid: 65%
Recommended sugar in the Blue & Orange Kool-Aid: 50%

*

Visit The Blue & Orange Kool-Aid Report archive, and the Kool-Aid forum, where you can tell Emery what an idiot he is.

Posted by Lou at 10:38 AM | Permalink

What I Watched Last Night

I'm going to ruffle some feathers today and then I'll get to some fun stuff. Last night there
were two huge news stories - Fox "ALERTS" were being issued at a record pace. The first story was that Terrell Owens may or may not have committed suicide by way of overdosing on prescription medicine. The second story involved a gunman who took six Colorado high school students hostage, then killed one of the students and himself as police rushed the building. Now, there are only two more days to nurse these stories until the weekend until there will be something new to talk about, so I am going to beat all the news stations to the punch.

A Pat Bataillon "ALERT." Professional athletes are no longer allowed to take pills of any sort unless a doctor is present. It is too dangerous and complicated for athletes to take pills by themselves, so there should be immediate new rules issued to save the fragile lives of our athletes.

A Pat Bataillon "ALERT." All kids should bring guns to school for their own safety. The longer these kids go without guns the more deaths there will be. Every kid should have a gun to protect themselves from irresponsible adults and adolescents.

A Pat Bataillon "ALERT." Everything Bush did wrong is Clinton's fault. Whoa, is that a terrorist around the corner? I'm scared. Clinton really screwed the pooch on that one. He should have stopped 9/11. It was also Hoover's fault that Hitler was still around to take over Europe. Lincoln could have prevented WWI and Ben Franklin was directly responsible for Pearl Harbor. Will George W. Bush be held responsible when Finland invades Maine a hundred years from now?

Enough nonsense for one day.

What I watched last night was obviously a little too much news, but I did get a chance to catch Showgirls on VH1. Surprising that VH1 showed that movie the same day that Screech Powers made a porno flick available for download on the Net. See, Jessie Spano was in was in Showgirls right after she was in Saved by the Bell. So she did her little soft core prono flick and now it is Screech's turn.

I don't know much about this movie because I chose to not see Screech naked, but from what I hear, he is with two women and there is a Dirty Sanchez involved.

For those of you who don't know what a Dirty Sanchez is, don't look it up. It is not material suitable for children.

Man what a day on the television, a lot of news; a lot to be scared about. Kids with guns and terrorists coming to get us around every corner and professional athletes trying to kill themselves because they are so scared. I am most frightened of; you guessed it, a Dirty Sanchez and Screech crossing paths.

Posted by Lou at 09:39 AM | Permalink

The [Thursday] Papers

The mayor's announcement yesterday that the Chicago Children's Museum will move from its Navy Pier location to the corner of Monroe and Columbus is played rather sedately in the papers today compared to the sparks the plan has ignited among lakefront park advocates and other civic-minded urban observers, as evidenced on Chicago Tonight last night.

The protestations of Grant Park Advisory Council President Bob O'Neill received much stronger airing on CT's panel than what was represented on newsprint. And prominent local architect and WBEZ-FM contributor Edward Keegan (as identified from the WTTW website; I missed the introductions) downright blasted the mayor for his typical piecemeal, sloppy, contradictory approach to public planning that belies the media image of a manager with great vision when lack of vision has been a hallmark of his administration.

"We cannot plan [the new museum] the way we planned Millennium Park," Keegan roughly said (as best as I scrambled to get down his remarks). "Millennium Park was a happy confluence of events. If we let it fall together the way some things we're hearing about, then we have the potential for great trouble."

More to the point, Keegan asked, "Where is the plan?"

Daley is being typically obtuse.

"[Daley] said the move would put the children's museum within walking distance of other downtown attractions, such as Millennium Park and the Shedd Aquarium," the Tribune's Noreen S. Ahmed-Ullah reports.

Which might make sense, though it seems like kind of a hike to the aquarium to me. On the other hand, the children's museum's current location at Navy Pier only puts it in the center of the state's top tourist attraction. So, you know, either way.

"The architect chosen for the new museum said that no designs or details have been drawn," Ahmed-Ullah notes, in a story that, as you would expect, properly shows more skepticism than the Sun-Times's bored little kiss on the cheek.

An early cost estimate puts the project's price tag at $40 million. We all know where that's heading.

It's not clear what's really behind the move, but here's a clue inadvertently buried in the Sun-Times's "report": "The draw of 500,000 museum visitors annually could also help Millennium Park's parking garage, which hasn't generated enough revenue to cover debt payments."

In other words, the mayor is still trying to figure out how to pay for Millennium Park, his gift to the universe. I suppose turning the whole park into a parking garage is out of the question.

The Vision Thing
The Tribune's Eric Zorn is also knocking Daley's lack of vision, in this case regarding the Olympics and Soldier Field. Zorn also links to a blog post by Barnaby Dinges, the former public relations chief of the Soldier Field construction project, in which Dinges blasts the mayor's proposal for an Olympic Village along the lakefront.

The truth is, this mayor isn't good with the vision thing. Millennium Park was a disaster barely rescued by business leaders to save the mayor from major embarrassment. The mayor's Block 37 plans came and went for years before ground was broke by an outfit more troubled than the Tribune Company. Gajillions of dollars were poured into straining Midway and O'Hare airports beyond their limits while the mayor pulled his support for a third airport off the table, and then destroyed Meigs Field in a fit of pique. He once proposed a billion-dollar downtown casino complex, turned against casinos, and now wants a casino. Lake Shore Drive has been moved at least twice in his tenure. Vision is not this mayor's strong suit, despite what you may have heard.

We're Number One
Daley, hailing the business community: "We're unique. No other city does it like we do."

Does what, cheat?

The irony is that every city says that. We couldn't be any less unique.

Big Hands
Apparently Allstate has bought naming rights for the children's museum. Because no other city does it like we do. And it's never too soon to preach the importance of a comprehensive fire/safety policy to eight-year-olds.

Mocha Mania
Starbucks has vision - for 250 more stores in Chicago. A Beachwood Reporter analysis has determined just where they'll go.

Bronze Medal
"As Chicago, Los Angeles and San Francisco pull the veils from their proposals to host the 2016 Summer Games, one thing is becoming crystal clear: Of the three, Chicago is facing the highest hurdles at this time," the Tribune reports on page 1 today.

Cop Shop
Also on the Tribune's front page: "State To Drop Cases Tied To Suspect Cops: 110 Arrests Linked to 9 Officers in Robber Probe."

I also missed linking to this excellent piece of police reporting several weeks ago and I've been trying to figure out how to catch up ever since:

Wal-Paper
Over at The Bright One, a profile of Wal-Mart's general contractor. I'm not even going to provide a link, just on principle.

Vision Quest
"After warning for months that it was behind schedule, the Chicago Housing Authority is projecting that its $1.6 billion effort to remak public housing will not be completed until 2015," the Tribune reports.

"By 2010 - the original target date for the Plan for Transformation - fewer than half of the 7,500 public housing units to be built in new mixed-income developments throughout the city will be finished."

To put it another way, the mayor's vaunted remake of public housing is five years behind schedule.

With school improvement flat-lining, I wonder if the mayor's political advisors are re-considering a re-election platform built on the mayor taking charge of public schools and housing. Maybe that explains the all-out race baiting.

Daley Dose I
The mayor responding to questions about funding the city's Olympic bid: "We don't have answers that quick. I know you [reporters] have 'em all."

Thankfully, reporters then asked the mayor if he thought it was inappropriate for them to ask how a Chicago Olympics would be funded, and if he had a better idea for how they should do their jobs.

Oh wait, that second part didn't happen.

Daley Gras
"We can outlaw every ethnic food in the world right now. Children are more important. Let's put our priorities" in order. Or something.

Dumb-Times
Michael Cooke is back.

Stage Fright
"There's probably only one woman who can upstage the governor - and get him to laugh about it," the Sun-Times "reports" this morning.

Only one woman? The governor of Illinois?

There's only one woman who can't upstage the governor, and unfortunately her name is Judy Baar Topinka.

Jimbo's Jumble
This is the story that should've been on front page.

The Beachwood Tip Line: Do it for the children.

Posted by Lou at 08:46 AM | Permalink

Over/Under

Last week I covered NYG/SEA and ATL/NO. Just in case you wondered. I hope you forgot my picks.

What we should not forget about is Katrina. The Monday Night crew waxed poetic on how game relieved the pathos of New Orleans. Except that few of those who spent time the SuperShelter actually attended the game. This fact was not lost on my wife, who said after the countless crowd reaction shots, "So, how many people were affected by Katrina, yet then all the white people get a concert?"

After the white folks' concert, G.H.W. Bush performed the coin toss. Though in last week's Over/Under, I predicted G.W. would receive the honor. [Editor's Note: You can't even pick the coin toss right?] Ironically, G.H.W. Bush marched in to finish the work of his son. [Editor's Note: Nice line. All is forgiven.]

Because I focused on three NFC games last week, I spent very little time talking about the AFC. This also means you probably spent very little time watching the Cleveland Browns II at Cleveland Browns I. So to help catch you up to speed, here is the first installment of "What I Learned on CBS."

While you were enjoying the Bears/Vikings game with the cogent analysis of Dick Stockton and ex-Cowboy Darryl Johnston, I toiled under the work of the world's worst quarterback father, Phil Simms. Hindsight is always 20/20, but perhaps we should have seen Chris Simms' poor play a mile away, given his old man is so brutal. This is proof players should never coach their son's Pop Warner teams. If Chris' mind at birth is a tabula rasa, Phil ruined the slate with "Of course it looks bad when you're not executing. When things go bad, it's not going to look good" and "I haven't thought about it. I'm not capable of deep thinking." Obviously.

For the 3 p.m. games, I spent a good amount of time watching the Seahawk slap the Giant like reality slapping the president. In a prior Kool-Aid Report, I mentioned Lovie Smith's voice sounds like Cleveland's from The Family Guy. In the file of "amusing likenesses," Tom Coughlin enjoys two entries: Face made while passing a kidney stone and incredulous face made by my wife when I say "I'm going to watch 12 hours of football on your birthday." Like the Giants, I also suffered humiliating defeat.

When I wan't watching the Giants/Seahawks, I flipped over to Browns II/Browns I game. During those 10 minutes, the announcers mentioned Browns II quarterback Charlie Frye's love for the Browns. I'm still not sure what makes this a compelling story. If nothing else, this makes Charlie Frye mindless, given that the Browns he enjoyed in his boyhood ceased to exist. It would be like remaining a big David Hasselhoff fan because he was the coolest detective with the coolest car while pretending to be unaware of his German music videos and appearance in the worst variety show contest on TV. If America Has Talent, how can a judge sans talent tell?

On a more serious note, CBS pimped Condi Rice's attempt to appear human on 60 Minutes. All through the 3 p.m. game, CBS ran promos for Rice's interview. I did not watch the interview, but I'm guessing this question failed to make the cut: "Condi, when you stand in front of a mirror, can others see your reflection?"

CBS did have a marketing problem on its hands. How do you convince us to watch the Rice interview and bond with what makes her human when there is no evidence that she actually is?

Well, CBS went for it, but they went for it a bit too hard when they boasted "Rice listens to Led Zeppelin when she works out." What, they thought that in an instant, Condi would go from "Bush sycophant setting foreign policy back 30 years" to "Holy cow, does she wear a "Monsters of Rock" tour shirt when she works out? Does she like to Ramble On? Does she make love to Kashmir?"

The problem is, we know Condi doesn't make love. She makes war.

For her part, interviewer Katie Couric, in her new role as serious newsperson, failed to ask the obvious follow-up question: "What are your favorite Zeppelin songs?" Now, if Condi would have said "Black Dog" or "Stairway to Heaven," we would all know that "Satisfaction" and "Pinball Wizard" appear as well on her "Condi's Classic Jams" mix tape. On the flip side, had she answered '"Moby Dick" and "Bring it on Home,", I would have rushed out and bought some G.W. Bush Underoos and matching feetsy pajamas. We would have to reassess the whole situation.

But that would never happen, because we know Condi isn't a rocker in her heart. She doesn't even know the words to the songs.

And, ss your President once said "If you don't stand for anything, you don't stand for anything."

Here are the most over/under hyped games for Week 4 that I'm standing for.

Over Hyped: Green Bay at Philadelphia, Sunday, October 1, 3:15 p.m.
(As mentioned in the Kool-Aid Report, I will use faulty information to make all my viewing recommendations and picks.)

Every Monday night game has hype, but this one has way too much. The ESPN slogan of "Is it Monday night yet" should be replaced with "Is it a week from this Monday night yet?" This matchup is so bad, Phil Simms would look good covering this one.

Philly is known for a few things: Ben Franklin, cheese steak, and nice fans. These nice fans carried the Eagles to victory two weeks ago, as the Eagles held off a late surge by the San Francisco Giants.

Even though Green Bay possesses less talent that the Eagles, their veteran leadership usually keeps them in games. Brett Favre, Edgar Bennett, and Robert Brooks provide the base of a rock solid, consistent offense. On defense, even the great play of Vonnie Holliday prevents the Packers from keeping this one close.

(Seriously) Pick: Philadelphia minus 10.5/Over 45.5points

Under-hyped game: New England at Cincinnati, Sunday October 1, Noon
One team recently lost to the Packers in the Super Bowl. The other team lost to the 49ers. Both teams carry undefeated records into a game to determine who has the inside track for the 1st round bye.

Too bad that we are talking about the AFC. Last year the 6th seed from the NFC defeated the 1st seed from the AFC.

The Bengals win going away with their ability to run the ball. When you have two guys like Ickey Woods and James Brooks that could run for 1,000 yards each, you can wear down a broken down Patriots defense. Even MacGyver couldn't fix this defense with a paper clip, bubble gum, and a 1991 version of Reggie White.

(Seriously) Pick: Cincinnati minus 4.5/Over 44.5points

*

To see just how badly Eric Emery is doing this season, check out the Over/Under archive.

Posted by Lou at 08:16 AM | Permalink

Life at Work

So it turns out my older sister is a whiz at finding job opportunities online. I did not know this. I wonder what else she's good at?

She e-mailed me a bunch of possibilities last night. I haven't gotten around to sending out resumes to all of them yet, but I was intrigued enough at the online job posting site that was requesting people to send in resumes to work for them that I tweaked my resume and sent it in. I mean, so far they haven't matched me with any potentially great jobs, but if I knew the system from the inside out . . .

Meanwhile, my folks come home from vacation in a couple of days. Threat level at yellow, soon to be orange.

My older brother called this morning to suggest there's a real need for quality pre-schools out there.

Huh? Am I suppose to open one?

Aside from the fact one needs a degree, and possibly an advanced degree, and possibly in early childhood education, one also needs money, space, and a high tolerance for screaming.

I've never known my brother to be completely delusional, but perhaps he's suffered a recent trauma I don't know about. I changed the subject quickly, and refrained from suggesting he seek professional help.

Really, the best people at a time like this are the people who believe that you'll find something, but who don't try to send you in any particular direction. They're the comforting ones. They're the ones you can rely on to support whatever bizarre ideas you come up with.

Not "opening a pre-school" bizarre, but "maybe I'll work for that online job bank instead of just answering their ads" bizarre.

It's really not such a bad idea.

Posted by Lou at 03:44 AM | Permalink

September 27, 2006

This Polka Band Could Be Your Life

On Bravo's fashion design competition Project Runway, host and supermodel Heidi Klum always greets the contestants with the tagline, "In fashion, one day you're in, and the next day you're out." That is the nature of fashion. In the short documentary, The World's Most Dangerous Polka Band - a 27-minute valentine - really-first-time director Sonya "Sonny" Tormoen shows that operating outside of fashion can sometimes guarantee the kind of staying power money and fame can't buy.

The Ruth Adams Band, self-mockingly termed "The World's Most Dangerous Polka Band" on a banner that graces the stage of Nye's Polonaise Room in Northeast Minneapolis, has been the house band for more than 30 years. The septuagenarian founder of the band, Ruth Adams, is known for her accordion riffs and imitation of what sounds to me like a cocker spaniel's bark in "The Barking Dog Polka." On trumpet is The Kid - 60-something Joe Hayden, a transplanted Chicagoan with a lovely Chicago accent and an expansive way of talking that folds you into his riches-to-rags (make that polkas) stories about the band. The man who gave Joe his nickname is 88-year-old Al Ophus, the band's tempo-challenged drummer.

The genuine love between the band members sweetens their sometimes sour notes and endears them to the regulars, and a cadre of hipsters and yuppies, looking for an old-fashioned good time in the way-back machine that is Nye's.

Tormoen, a film student, became intrigued by this band and was urged to dive into the deep end of filmmaking by her screenwriting instructor because of Al's advanced age. By following her curiosity, she captured for posterity a slice of Minnesota history that has now begun to fade. Al died four months after Tormoen's film wrapped in 2003, and thus, this film is a vital record of a genuine character.

Tormoen gives a brief history of Nye's and shows mainly young professionals drinking and laughing along the length of the bar. I was startled by the sound of barking, and found out only after a few anxious minutes that it was Ruth. The music the band plays doesn't get much camera time and is recorded poorly, so it's hard to understand what the cool kids find so entertaining. However, when Tormoen turns the camera on Al, we see a man who mixes with staff and patrons alike, flirting with all the girls and grinning his wide, thin grin. The relatively new manager of the club, Harry Kaiser, clues us in that Al stocks the toilets by choice and was hurt when Kaiser wanted to relieve him of the task.

We get to watch a recording session at the makeshift Mystery Ranch Recording Studio, mainly one-take tracks of 60 songs. Perfection wasn't the goal, though what was still has me a bit puzzled. Ruth is disturbed by Al's deteriorating drumming skills, but she doesn't make a fuss. I guessed from her odd, short hairdo that she might have recently finished chemotherapy, but the film was well advanced before I found out I was right. As the bandleader and a female musician who came up when that was relatively rare, there's a lot of story in her life. I was frustrated not to hear more from her. On the other hand, I could have done with a little less of the talkative Joe, whose words were less than the sum of their parts. But I sure did like the sound of his voice, like a WGN-TV announcer from my childhood.

Ultimately, though, the film develops its focus and feeling in a way that really drew me in. It was a touching moment when Tormoen ran the last recording of Al singing, an impromptu to her at his home. It's very satisfying to see that his drum kit, covered with signatures, was installed above a doorway in Nye's.

I don't know if I'd like to hang at Nye's. Now that I'm well into middle age, I don't seek out relics as much as I feel like one. But there's an undeniable charm to the place and to the band that goes on playing together because they love it. I'm glad I visited Nye's and the Ruth Adams Band in this warm, sweet film.

The Chicago International REEL Shorts Festival is Friday through Sunday, Sept. 29-Oct. 1, at the Davis Theatre, 4614 N. Lincoln Ave., in the Lincoln Square neighborhood of Chicago. There will be about 100 short films ranging from two to 27 minutes in length. The World's Most Dangerous Polka Band shows with four other short documentaries on Saturday at 3 p.m. Best of the Fest selections as determined by audience votes and the festival director's favorites will be shown Sunday at 9:30 p.m.

Posted by Don at 07:31 PM | Permalink

What I Watched Last Night

Listen to this: There are a few people out there who have super-human powers, and their powers vary from one to another. They live unsuccessful lives and are dealt hardship after hardship. They are always trying to do the most for humankind but never seem to get proper credit. They are almost always hated by society and put into roles that are unfair.

This is the synopsis of the first of many shows that will not be cancelled in their first week. The show is called Heroes, and it is NBC's answer to Dancing With the Stars. NBC ran this show last night for the second time to see if it would play a little better this time around. (Note to NBC: Please credit Dusty Baker and his reliance on Ryan Dempster as closer when referring to this strategy.)

This show is really bad. Not like Titus bad, because that show had its moments. This show is in a league of its own.

I watched maybe 10 to 15 minutes of Heroes and I have reached the season finale in my head already. The super-human "heroes" will face some type of governmental investigation into them in mid-season just as they realize who they each are. They will band together with some sort of scientist who speaks with a German accent and he keeps them safe somewhere in his fancy mansion, most likely in on an underground level. The scientist will then encourage them to go out and do some good for all humankind, like a Captain Planet sort of thing. This is the point where costumes will be debated in the writers' room and the marketing department will stop by for a visit. The German scientist will now serve as a father figure to all the "heroes," and they will admire him.

Toward the end of the season, an evil faction of super-human people that will arise and try to kill the "heroes" and spread fear amongst the regular humans. They may be called Republicans. This will happen just in time for a two-hour season finale where the "heroes" and the villains square off and the German scientist is either killed or captured. I would bet on captured in order to keep him around just in case he made for good rating - and a toy tie-in with Burger King.

So there you have it, the first season of Heroes on NBC. Now let's hope this terrible show is taken off the air since we already know what is going to happen and there's no reason to actually be forced to live through it.

Posted by Lou at 11:07 AM | Permalink

The [Wednesday] Papers

1. Michael Cooke is back as editor-in-chief of the Sun-Times (more on that in time) and has told staffers he wants more "attitude" in the paper. It's cheaper than more reporting.

2. "It's a joke. It's written on a 9th-grade level."

That's a union guy talking about the firefighers exam in a Sun-Times story written on the 6th-grade level.

3. "After months of controversy, the world's largest retailer opens its first Chicago store today, and those who work there say they couldn't be happier," Shamus Toomey writes in the Sun-Times - where else? - this morning.

Wal-Mart hasn't traditionally advertised much in newspapers, but the Sun-Times is trying really, really hard to get its business. They discounted this story to the 4th-grade level.

(Is this what Cooke means by "attitude"?)

4. Amid a series of revelations that have left the governor a shriveling mess, Ramblin' Rodney found time to tell the Sun-Times about his campaign against, well, against either phony charges on your, um, phone bill, or charges that are just hard to understand. I'm not sure which. I mean, is the governor saying those regulatory line charges and such are trumped up? Like you, I've long suspected that they are. But I'd sure like to see the evidence. Maybe he oughta ask state attorney general Lisa Madigan to take action.

"The cynic might point out that cell phone companies have been doing this for years, and the governor is only moved to act now, five weeks before an election," writes Neil Steinberg, breaking the story this morning. "But cell phone companies and their hidden fees are so annoying, I bet we'll take whatever help we can get, for whatever reason it is offered."

Or at least Steinberg will take whatever help he can get, for whatever reason it is offered.

5." Terror Report Contradicts Bush."
- page 40, Sun-Times, 36 pages after the exclusive front page report in which the dentist in a case involving a five-year-old patient who wound up in a coma expressed his distress.

"Bush Denies War Incites Terrorists."
- page 1, Tribune

Mix and match and you've got a real newspaper on your hands.

6. "Ex-State Supreme Court Justice."
- page 77, Sun-Times

"An Independent Political Mind."
- page 1, where it ought to be, Tribune

7. Michael Cooke is back on the job for just a few days and I'm already wondering how he keeps his job.

8. "What's fascinating is that critics who peel young Stroger's skin are often the same folks who, by their silence, excuse the more massive patronage abuse and corruption under Chicago Mayor Richard Daley and serve as cheerleaders for his Olympic dreams."
- John Kass

9. Kass's last two columns, about Constitution Party gubernatorial candidate Randall Stufflebeam and his Green Party ballot-mate Rich Whitney, have inspired me. If you've really had enough, vote Stufflebeam or Whitney. Seriously, I would love to see either of these guys in the governor's chair if the alternative is, as Kass says, Topinkavich. Unless you're betting on Pat Quinn ascending to the throne after the feds bag Rod. It's a gamble, but it's the only reason left to vote for Baloneyvich.

10. Really, if you've had enough, vote Stufflebeam, Whitney, Peraica, and, for now, Bill "Dock" Walls, who at least has a cool name, until the field of mayoral challengers fills out. Really. Do it. Please.

11. On one side of the debate, Mahatma Gandhi, Pope Benedict XVI, St. Francis of Assisi, the Prophet Muhammed, and, by the way, Paul Harvey. On the other side, Ald. Bernie Stone, Ald. Burt Natarus, and Mayor Richard M. Daley.

Just sayin'.

12. Maybe the foie gras debate ought to be decided by which side has the fewest laughingstocks among its supporters.

13."After reading Monday's Sun-Times, I have to ask: Who makes the decisions for the placement of what is considered news in your paper? Page 4 contains a 'news item' about former President Clinton being so-called 'Testy on [a Fox] TV [interview]' and Page 5 features a full page about a Highland Park church being rehabbed into a home for a lawyer's family, but a reader has to dig in very deep to find a real news item of importance, buried on Page 38 under the dubious title 'Democrats batter GOP with report,' about the recent intelligence report that states that the Iraq war has been feeding terrorism. This report was the leading story on BBC News Sunday night, but here in the United States, at least as far as Chicago is concerned, it rates well behind a news interview, church rehabs and 'Laurie Dann' appearing in MySpace. That says a lot about your paper and explains a lot about the American voter."

- Janet C. Burke, Elmhurst. letter to the editor, who is Michael Cooke

14. "[T]he Daley [Olympic] plan has one function only - to hold together until next year's election."

- David Roeder (third item), wondering, unlike his colleagues, how the Games will really be paid for, and if you can really plunk a 95,000-seat stadium into a park, later to be reduced to 10,000 seats, and not ruin the park.

15. "Experts say retailers have covered every inch of ground in the suburbs, where land prices are lower and opposition tamer, and now are looking for new growth," Sandra Guy writes in her Sun-Times Wal-Mart story.

So wait - you mean the suburbs are full for big-box retailers? So the city is their only option in Chicagoland, regardless of, um, wage ordinances?

16. "The situation can be a double-edge sword: The company hires local residents, but many cannot afford to raise a family on the salary offered or save for retirement," Guy writes.

So wait - are you saying that having a handful of poor people in impovershed areas simply becoming poor people living in impovershed areas who also work for the enormously profitable Wal-Mart isn't a great economic development plan?

17. The Tribune editorial page's war contortions continue. Can't you just say you were wrong and Howard Dean was right?

18. At least they believe it.

19. Mary Schmich still hasn't gotten the news that the Inner Self Cafe spontaneously combusted 30 years ago and was replaced by a record store called Death Carnage.

20. "We want to make this a global city so you get the Olympics and, with the construction of O'Hare International Airport, you're making this a global city," Daley said.

The guy's been in office for 17 years and we're not a global city yet?

21. "If we get [the Olympics], it certainly would create foreign exposure with global attention. It would be a huge opportunity to get the Chicago message out to the world," says Tom Bartkoski of World Business Chicago.

Um, the message that we're open for business, Tom?

"Not everyone knows what a great business location it is and how great of a place it is to live and work. The Olympics - as with Sydney in 2000 or Tokyo in 1964 - has the potential to be a real image maker."

I thought that's what the half-a-billion dollar and growing Millennium Park was for. (Tokyo 1964?)

22. If you've ever stood on this swath of land, which indeed has a sweet skyline view, well, it's hard to disagree.

Maybe the mayor stole his Olympic idea from the wrong challenger.

23. Spot the Beachwood Reporter contributor who learned English by watching Cubs games in this article.

24. Global cities don't care if some schmuck thinks they are a laughingstock.

25. Baltimore Sun employees ask Tribune Company to show them some respect. I don't know, why should they get special treatment?

26. Apologies for the late posting again today, I was up all night trying to come up with three more reasons to read Sun-Times.com to help out their marketing folks. I couldn't.

The Beachwood Tip Line: 101 reasons and counting.

Posted by Lou at 09:30 AM | Permalink

Life at Work

J. Bird called in sick. I've got my eyes on you, Bird.

Posted by Lou at 08:38 AM | Permalink

September 26, 2006

The Beachwood Inn Bookshelf

1. Everlasting/Nancy Thayer. "A lightweight, predictable fairy tale of a young woman's success in business and in love." (Publisher's Weekly)

2. The Road to Gandolfo/Robert Ludlum. "A wickedly funny Robert Ludlum you've never met before." (From the Publisher - Bantam)

3. The Five Fingers/Gayle Rivers and James Hudson. "The book is a brusque but joyous Benzedrine-fueled rollercoaster of ambushes and flesh wounds. The seven members of the Five Fingers team stomp through Laos, leaving armies of dead in their wake. Male bonding occurs. There is a betrayal. The ending is ambiguous, startlingly so for a cheapo battle paperback . . . Hey, the Hemingway plod got popular because it fucking works. The Five Fingers - weird, compelling, and perhaps overdue for recognition." (Colby Cosh)

4. Image of the Beast/Philip Jose Farmer. "Herald Childe has seen Hell, glimpsed its horror in an act of sexual mutilation. Childe must now find and destroy an inhuman predator on the streets of a polluted and decadent Los Angeles of the future." (From the Publisher - Rhinoceros)

5. Save The Tiger/Steve Shagan. "A story of moral conflict in modern America . . . [Jack] Lemmon plays Harry Stoner in a bleak story that depicts an outwardly successful man questioning the value of the material prosperity he's desperately trying to maintain." (Wikipedia entry on the 1973 movie adaptation also written by Shagan)

6. The Sendai/William Woolfolk. "Something very strange is happening at the Karyll Clinic . . . a series of infant deaths, all of them test-tube babies . . . falsified records and a top-secret, off-limits research unit." (Mistymorninbooks.com)

7. Submission/Elizabeth Oldfield. "This is the story of Shane, a popular pop singer for a band named Submission who hates the limelight and wants out, and the band secretary, Rhiannon. A subplot about Shane finding his roots in Asia was poorly fleshed out and hardly mentioned except as an afterthought at the end. A standard book but nice if you don't want to think." (C.A. Wanamaker, Amazon.com)

8. Sea Fever/Anne Weale. Harlequin Romance #3132.

9. Invasion/Robin Cook. "A gigantic spaceship arrives in the stratosphere to dump some black disks onto Earth. Touch these things at your own risk, however; unsuspecting souls who handle the disks receive a sting, soon followed by flulike symptoms and ending in a kind of zombie assimilation into the alien consciousness. And make no mistake: these aliens are up to no good - we know this because the victims of the UFO-flu are soon transformed into hideous reptilian creatures." (Amazon.com)

10. Message in a Bottle/Nicholas Sparks. "The farfetched plot of Message in a Bottle is more likely to elicit fits of giggles than flutters of the heart, and it leaves the mind quite numb." (Sarah Harrison Smith, The New York Times Book Review)

11. Family Pictures/Sue Miller. "Now A Powerful TV Mini-Series Starring Angelica Huston." (Book jacket)

12. Streets of Death/Dell Shannon. "Lt. Luis Rodolfo Vincent Mendoza does police work because he's good at it and he enjoys it. A man of independent means, the suave Mendoza is always impeccably dressed and combines Latin charm & sensuality with a fondness for racy cars, high-stakes poker, pretty women, and his Abyssinian cat." (The Reader's Advisor)

13. The Fourth Protocol/Frederick Forsyth. "It is a time of political unrest in Great Britain. And behind the Iron Curtain an insidious plot is being hatched, a plan so incendiary that even the KGB is ignorant of its existence - Aurora, the sinister brainchild of two of the world's most dangerous men: the general secretary of the Soviet Union and master spy Kim Philby . . . Only British agent John Preston stands any chance of breaching the conspiracy. Through plot and counterplot, from bloody back streets to polished halls of power both East and West, his desperate investigation is relentlessly blocked by deceit, treachery, and the most deadly enemy of all . . . time." (Inside flap)

14. Along Came A Spider/James Patterson. "This book is about a crazed school teacher who kidnaps a daughter of a famous actress. Alex Cross, a detective, is suppose to figure out this twisted and complicated criminal act." (Jared Hensley, Resident Scholar, AllReaders.com)

15. Red Storm Rising/Tom Clancy. "Whereas the fictionalized USSR in Red Storm Rising required the plot device of a refinery disaster to kick off the storyline, the United States has arrived in precisely the same situation as the fictionalized USSR in the book through chronic mismanagement." (What Really Happened: The History the Government Hopes You Don't Learn!)

16. War and Remembrance/Herman Wouk. "Because the miniseries was shot out of sequence, producers could not cut Jayne Seymour's hair for the scenes in the concentration camp. Make-up artists took shears to a full scalp wig for her to wear for those scenes instead." (Wikipedia)

17. The Brotherhood of War: The Aviators/W.E.B. Griffin. "The eighth volume of Griffin's Brotherhood of War series is a detailed and absorbing view of military life and military men that readers will find fascinating." (Library Journal)

18. Deer Dancers: Daughter of the Sky/Amanda Cockrell. "She is named Deer Shadow, blessed and cursed by a magical talent inherited at birth. She is cherished by the Yellow Grass People, until a hostile tribe threatens their ancient ways, casting doubt on Deer Shadow. But the gods have sent her a gift - a mysterious outcast, bearing strange new ideas and sacred seeds. She knows she must defy all - for he is her destiny." (Fantastic Fiction)

19. The Brotherhood of War: The New Breed/W.E.B. Griffin. "An American Epic." (Tom Clancy)

20. Julius Caesar/Cliff's Notes. "Brutus bases his decision to assassinate Caesar on a) his hatred for Caesar; b) what Caesar may do if he is crowned king; c) his own desire to be king; d) the need to please Cassius." (Study Help: Quiz)

21. Job Hopper: The Checkered Career of a Down-Market Dilettante/Ayun Halliday. "Dimensions: 8.5"H x 5.75"W x 1"D; 0.64 lbs." (BestBookBuys)

22. The Gospel According to Oprah/Marcia Z. Nelson. "Clearly, Oprah Winfrey has been converted into the New Age Movement. And one of the biggest deceptions is that she apparently doesn't know it." (Watchman Fellowship)

23. Celebremos! Let Us Celebrate!/Mexican Lectionary (Leccionario Mexicano). "Can be paired with the We Celebrate Hymnaland/or Cantos del Pueblo de Dios hymnal." (World Library Publications)

24. The Mean Season/Fred Block, Richard A. Cloward, Barbara Ehrenreich, Frances Fox Piven. "This is a spirited reaffirmation of the humane values of the American 'welfare state' as well as a sharp attack on the Reagan Administration for trying to dismantle the 'safety net' that now protects the unemployed, dependent children, the aged, the disabled, and the very poor. The authors reject the charges that public welfare is a drag on the economy, an incentive to immorality, and ultimately a cruel hoax on the needy. Instead, they argue that there are still big holes in the 'safety net,' to be mended with better health insurance and adequate income support for the very poor. Liberals are chastised for falling into theoretical and moral disarray and thus failing to ward off conservative attacks on these issues." (Library Journal)

25. Moments of Engagement: Intimate Psychotherapy in a Technological Age/Peter D. Kramer. "Statistically Improbable Phrases (SIPs): ambulatory depression, ward chief, dynamic therapy, doing psychotherapy, being empathic, inpatient ward, paranoid patient." (Amazon.com)

26. The Interpretation of Dreams/Sigmund Freud. "Dreams of loneliness/like a heartbeat drives you mad/In the stillness of remembering what you had/And what you lost/And what you had/And what you lost." (Stevie Nicks)

27. Angela's Ashes/Frank McCourt. "When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I managed to survive at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: the happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood." (McCourt)

Posted by Lou at 04:07 PM | Permalink

Pass the Charter: A Guide To Chicago's New Schools

The city's raft of magnet and charter schools have become so specialized that this year the Chicago Public School district found itself compelled to open a school (the Chicago International Charter School-Ralph Ellison - not to be confused with the Chicago Virtual Charter School ) focusing on "reading, writing, and arithmetic."

Among the other new schools offered up by CPS this year: The Austin Business & Entrepreneurship Academy, for budding young business leaders hoping, we presume, to deal in human fulfillment; the Bronzeville Lighthouse Charter School, for the performing arts, possibly with a focus on sea shanties; and the Sherman School of Excellence, focusing on "shared governance," which means the mayor won't be visiting any time soon.

Here are 15 charter and magnet schools under consideration for next year.

1. The McDonald's School of Culinary Arts (grades 8 to 10). Students passing the McSCAT will advance directly into fry cook positions.

2. The NCAA Charter School of the Physical Arts (pre-K to 12). An elite development program with intensive after-school programs and field trips.

3. The English As a First Language Minuteman Academy (K to 8th). An affirmative action school for white folks who feel threatened by a changing world. Legal citizenship required, though a passing score on a citizenship test is not.

4. The School of Social Promotion (K to 12th). Students must meet an income requirement and have a job already lined up for them by their parents.

5. The Magnet School. (9th to 12th) Prepares students for careers in the magnet industry.

6. The Young Anchorman's Academy (9th to 12th). For students interested in the blow-dried arts.

7. The Uptown Downsizing Academy (9th to 12th). Prepares future business leaders in the economics of workplace wealth transfer.

8. The Illinois School of Budget Mathematics (12th-grade only). Brief but intensive coursework in obfuscation, rose-colored projectionism, and election-year gimmickery.

9. The ACT Excellence in Testing Academy (11th-grade only). Students will spend their year drilling in the ACT, much like in regular CPS high schools, only with ACT-certified instructors.

10. The