‘Live Love Acts’

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Live Love Acts.

X-Rated Excellence

‘Live Love Acts’ a hilarious tale

By Daedalus Howell

“FUCK ME silly, you bad, bad performance artist!” From any writer-performer other than Fred Curchack, the line would be tantamount to yelling “Fire!” in a crowded theater–a good way of emptying the house. But in Curchack’s brilliant one-man extravaganza Live Love Acts (now playing at Petaluma’s Cinnabar Theater), minutes pass following the line’s delivery as the audience slowly recovers from convulsive laughter.

Inspired by the mythic escapades of libertine lady-lover Don Juan (the legendary swain has been grist for such works as Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Johnny Depp’s Don Juan DeMarco), Curchack’s piece also finds the randy dandy swapping a life in the arts for a wanton tour of womankind before an act of hubris and his naturally unrepentant nature land him in Hell.

In Curchack’s deft retelling of the story, however, Don Juan (referred to throughout as simply “D.J.”) is a solo theater performer who regularly recounts and updates his exploits in a long-running off-off-off Broadway theater piece (he also touts the benefit of “injaculation,” a method of internalizing his orgasms, thereby bolstering his stamina in the sack).

One night, D.J. stumbles into a subterranean strip joint just before the millennial eve and participates in a Grand Guignol-style sex act that leaves a stripper accidentally knifed in the belly. D.J. goes on the lam only to fall deeper into the abyss when circumstances find him bludgeoning a Germanic puppeteer to death with a marionette crafted to look like Scheherazade of Arabian Nights fame.

Eventually, D.J. finds himself involved in a trial in which every woman he has ever slept with accuses him of committing crimes against humanity. The sequence is a wry nod to filmmaker Federico Fellini’s persecution fantasia City of Women and is comically capped by the fact that D.J.’s mother presides as judge.

The circuitous plot has more twists than a French braid, but Curchack conveys the work to the audience with panache and zeal, all the while seated in a minimalist set appointed with only a stand from which he gleans the production’s text. This is no mere recitation, mind you–Curchack is a consummate storyteller and invests the show with every ounce of his considerable talent and acumen as a performer.

Curchack’s delivery often recalls the bombastic zeniths reached by word-slinger Lord Buckley, and many of his gags rely on Monty Python-style hilarious hyperbole as he rages through innumerable sexually explicit vignettes. The rhetorical acrobatics are a phenomenon in and of themselves–Curchack’s fustian slang (a sort of locker-room banter for the Lit Studies set) has little in the way of antecedents apart from perhaps comic George Carlin’s famed faculty for sexual euphemism.

On a tamer note, Curchack describes “love” as a “vampirish mutual admiration society.” He also retreads worn clichés with ribald finesse â la “there was not a dry seat in the house.”

Clearly, Live Love Acts is intended only for mature and, for that matter, open-minded audiences. Kudos are due to the Cinnabar Theater for taking a chance on such bawdy but clever material that ultimately makes a poignant statement about the nature of love.

Live Love Acts plays on Friday and Saturday, Oct. 29 and 30, at 8 p.m. at the Cinnabar Theater, 3333 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. Tickets are $10-$12. For details, call 763-8920.

From the October 28-November 3, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Vineyard Expansion

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Sign of the times: During a recent Town Hall Coalition meeting, 5th District Supervisor Mike Reilly listens intently as west county residents decry the onslaught of new vineyards in the region.

The Wrath of Grapes

West county residents are seeing red over rampant vineyard expansion

By Sara Peyton

DON’T BE FOOLED by the relative calm of downtown Occidental, a row of family-style Italian restaurants, gift shops, and hideaway inns: this is ground zero in what is shaping up to become one of the biggest political battles in Sonoma County history. Through the glass window of hair stylist Debra Anderson’s Lookinglass Salon you can see downtown Occidental’s new environmental center, at the heart of an escalating uproar over the sprawl of new grapevines snaking along the dry flaxen hillsides of west county.

The newly staked vines are a new gold rush that’s changing the face of the region’s historic ranching communities. Seeing vintage oaks cut and removed as land with heritage views is graded and planted in grapes–with little discussion about the county’s future–has folks demanding to know the environmental consequences of turning water into wine.

Anderson and political activist Lynn Hamilton are at the core of a growing organization, the newly formed Town Hall Coalition, which is working to protect watersheds forests and natural habitats. The local grassroots group supports sustainable agriculture and a mix of crops.

From behind the desk at her shop, Anderson says, “I do a significant amount of the hair around here and I hear what’s getting said.”

Last summer, while Anderson trimmed and styled, clients mostly complained about vineyard development near their homes. Some told her about wells drying up and about bulldozers nudging piles of dirt near environmentally fragile streams.

“There were strings of these occurrences. I knew we had to do something,” she says. In her mid-’40s, president of Occidental’s Chamber of Commerce, and the mother of four, Anderson joined about a dozen west county residents who organized the recent series of packed Occidental town meetings to voice concerns about the vineyard conversions.

Anderson wasn’t surprised when some 450 to 500 folks–including nurses, biologists, writers, musicians, in surance representatives, artists, plumbers, developers, consultants, contractors, environmentalists, organic farmers, real estate agents, and grape growers–crammed the tiny town’s Community Center in early September. “I have a good grasp about what goes on here and how to motivate the town,” Anderson says.

“This isn’t about ‘us against the grape growers,’ ” she adds, waving a manicured hand at the environmental center at the entrance to her shop. “It’s about learning how to be a good neighbors.”

Lifeblood? Sonoma County has established itself in the lucrative premium-grape niche

ON THIS WARM and sunny October afternoon, Lynn Hamilton and her husband, Don Frank, are busy setting up the new environmental center, now freshly equipped with a phone and fax machine. Hamilton, a former mayor of Sebastopol, settled in Occidental last year and became a driving force behind the movement to stop the vineyard conversions. Before that, she spent several years in South America working for Ashoka, the Washington, D.C.-based non-profit that promotes social change by funding creative people who have come up with new ways to help the poor and improve social systems in their countries.

‘Working for Ashoka and meeting social entrepreneurs from around the world has helped me be more effective,” says Hamilton, 51. “The purpose of the Town Hall Coalition is to effect social change. We’re giving people information so they can come up with new proposals, write a letter, testify at a hearing, or reach out to a neighbor. This is not a protest movement–it’s a social change movement.

“One reason why I left South America was that the deforestation and erosion there were escalating and I couldn’t see a way it could be stopped. I wanted to come home and prevent the conversion of forests to agricultural land here,” she says

Seeing the Napa-based Phelps Vinyard preparing a golden Freestone hillside for grapes and hearing about widespread forest conversions–including a plan to clear-cut 4,000 acres of coastal land for the largest vineyard conversion of all–got Hamilton thinking. In late August, she and her husband celebrated their recent marriage with a party at their home. In lieu of gifts, they asked for donations to start a fund to protect watersheds and forests in Sonoma County. The money raised (about $1,500) helped underwrite the cost of the first town hall meeting.

Still, the sizable turnout was a surprise. “I had no idea what was going to happen,” she says. “After the meeting, we were overwhelmed by phone calls and e-mails. We’ve had calls from Sonoma, Healdsburg, Napa, San Francisco, Santa Barbara, and across the country.

“We knew then that we were on to something and that there’s a lot of support to protect the environment from slash-and-burn agriculture,” says Hamilton. Indeed, environmental groups in vineyard-laden Healdsburg and Sonoma have invited the Town Hall Coalition to hold town meetings in their communities, and plans are under way to hit the road early next year.

“At our meetings, we have an opportunity to build informal relationships and to network,” says Hamilton. “It’s exciting to hook up with people throughout the county and reach out to a neighbor.”

Meeting of the minds: Lynn Hamilton, right, confers with fellow coalition members. ONE GRAPE grower who is listening is Mel Sanchietti. On the day following my visit to the environmental center, he’s on the doorstep of my Occidental home for some straight talk about vineyards. It’s harvest time and Sanchietti is busy, but he’s also anxious to talk about what farming life is really like.

“I was pleasantly surprised that Lynn Hamilton and I think alike about a lot of things. We share a love of the county and we both want to preserve our community,” says Sanchietti, vice president in charge of vineyards for Korbel Champagne Cellars in Guerneville. He owns a newly planted 65-acre vineyard surrounding his home. He attended both recent Town Hall Coalition meetings, talked about his work at the second forum, and plans to participate in future Town Hall meetings.

A third-generation farmer, Sanchietti played football for Sebastopol’s Analy High School. His family has farmed in the county since 1919. Today, Sanchietti, his wife, and 15-year-old son live in his grandparents’ old homestead. “We’ve farmed everything from prunes to apples to grapes,” he tells me as we walk around my yard. “That’s sustainable agriculture.

“I do wonder how non-professionals putting in these small vineyards are going to take care of their crop legally and make a profit,” he muses, naming some agricultural regulations, including a requirement that growers keep detailed records of pesticide usage, legal labor hired, and grading permits obtained.

Not too many years ago, Sanchietti disliked discussing farming with people whose views about agriculture and farming practices differed from his own. But now that he’s 50 and a grandfather, he finds he’s more willing to listen to others even if he doesn’t agree with them. Since the town hall meetings, Sanchietti is spending more time talking to the neighbors. And he’s pondering new ways to reach out to those who live near his vineyard and Korbel’s winery. He’s thinking about distributing a calendar detailing those dates when spraying and other work occur at the vineyards. “I was afraid of doing something like this before,” he says.

Sanchietti says he supports the new county hillside vineyard ordinance, describing it as a “good beginning.” The first-of-its-kind ordinance, which takes effect Dec. 2, was crafted amid a storm of controversy after negotiations between environmentalists and growers. Designed to reduce the environmental degradation of streams, the ordinance bars new vineyards on hillsides steeper than 50 percent, and requires growers to pay fees, submit erosion control plans for plantings on allowable slopes, and have 50-foot setbacks from streams and other riparian areas.

Sanchietti thinks an additional groundwater ordinance–an idea promoted by the Town Hall Coalition and now being researched on the county level at the urging of 5th District Supervisor Mike Reilly–may be a good idea.

And Sanchietti doesn’t approve of logging redwoods to plant grapes. He says Korbel owns about 1,500 acres in Sonoma County, with hundreds of forested acres it could develop for vineyards but won’t. “We keep our redwoods,” he says.

He notes that the famous champagne makers also own a large organic vineyard in Kenwood and use environmentally friendly integrated-pest management techniques.

Sanchietti wants to coexist amicably with the neighbors of his family vineyard and the vineyards he manages for Korbel. But he hopes longtime farmers will get credit from environmentalists and open-space advocates for preserving agricultural lands and preventing housing development.

“Most of us work hard at being real farmers,” he concludes.

LATER THAT EVENING, the historic Union Hotel in downtown Occidental is jammed with Town Hall Coalition members, community folks, and environmentalists of all stripes, including some decked out in their rainbow-colored best. It’s the annual dinner and fundraiser for the Western Sonoma County Rural Alliance.

There’s a lot of talk and wine sipping.

There’s little evidence of the recent sniping among some who fear more regulations of county agriculture will open the door to housing development and those who say that without additional regulations corporate vineyards will blanket the landscape with industrial grapes.

Jumping up on a chair to speak to the crowd is Dave Hensen, the director of the Occidental Arts and Ecology Center and a Town Hall Coalition organizer. “This is the moment of ripeness,” he says, calling for enhancements of the wildlife habitat and the elimination of pesticides. “There’s an agrarian revolt happening around the planet. We need more town hall meetings, and we need to take them on the road. What we organize here can be a model for the planet.”

Hansen later tells me, “It’s my intention to talk to as many farmers as possible. We’re not anti-farm. We’re trying to help the family farm prosper. I’ve seen how macro-economics can make and break whole communities. Where I think we can find common ground is with the people who love this community and love these hills even if we don’t always agree on farming practices.”

Among those at the dinner is county Supervisor Mike Reilly. “I haven’t seen this many people involved in an issue since the issues around the Santa Rosa sewage spill into the Russian River in the ’80s,” Reilly says. All the new people involved with the Town Hall Coalition that are showing up at supervisors’ meetings and writing letters are having an effect on county decisions, he adds.

“The coalition came together quickly, but once someone called a meeting on the issue it struck a chord with a great many. People are seeing the character of their land around them change, and they’re upset about it for a variety of reasons,” says Reilly about the increase of highly visible new vineyards sprouting in the west county.

But, he warns, “there are a lot of different issues and there’s a tendency to roll them up into a ball and deal with them all at once. When you’re talking about issues like groundwater depletion in water-scarce areas, the whole pesticide issue, cutting redwood trees down to plant vineyards–each one of these issues has its own levels of jurisdiction within the government, and they’re probably going to have be dealt with each in its own right over time.

“The question is whether the Town Hall Coalition will have the energy to sustain that kind of an effort.”

Noting that developing and enacting new county ordinances and regulations takes months and sometimes years, Reilly hopes that “vineyard folks and Town Hall folks find a way to engage in a dialogue on some of these issues so we can get a better sense of what solutions are possible.”

Reilly is firmly against clearing redwoods to plant grapes. He points to a recent study by the University of California identifying some 150,000 acres locally suitable to conversion to grapes, nearly triple the acreage dedicated to grapes today. “The key to the study was to identify redwood and timber woodland areas that are at risk of being converted to vineyards and also to identify to the Open Space District the areas that are most threat-ened,” says Reilly.

An evening public workshop about the report will be held Nov. 2 at the county Board of Supervisors chambers.

FOR NOW, Town Hall Coalition organizers are optimistic that they can prevent Sonoma County from becoming a banana republic to the grape industry–or a “grape republic,” as some quip. On their agenda is the development of “Fight-Back” community organizing kits to help property owners deal with timber-conversion plans and new vineyards. They’re looking to strengthen the new hillside ordinance, researching groundwater regulations and buffer zones in other areas, learning about the impact of pesticide use and fencing on wildlife habitat; and they have plans to interview political candidates throughout the county about these issues. They’re also creating lists of wineries and vineyards that rely on organic and biodynamic methods and are recommending such environmentally friendly grape growers to their friends, co-workers, and alumnae associations.

Working on all of these projects are some 200 people assigned to various citizen-action committees–forestry, labor, law, media, outreach, politics, toxics, air quality, water, and winery safety.

Those involved include people like local resident Jim Hendrikson–who joined the water committee–who say they’re in for the long haul. You might say Hendrikson knows a lot about huge undertaking–she was the music editor for the blockbuster movie Titanic. “I was surprised by the first town hall meeting,” he says. “I had expected chest thumping, angry venting, and a lot of bemoaning. But there was a lot less of that than I expected.

“I was gratified that we hit the ground running, got organized, and started addressing our concerns at supervisors’ meetings.”

Hendrikson’s immediate concerns are over a small six- to seven-acre vineyard about to be planted across the street from his home. “I’m getting my well tested tomorrow to have a point of demarcation before the vineyard goes in. We’re also going to put some plantings on our side of the road to shield us from spraying, noise, and dust,” says Hendrikson, who moved to Occidental in 1995.

“I’m surprised by how much has changed in four years,” he says about the new rows of vines in his ridgetop neighborhood. But we need to work with the local growers, understand their problems, and work toward responsible methods of farming. We don’t want to alienate the people who have spent a lifetime here. Fighting the big corporations is job enough,” says Hendrikson.

“There’s probably an end to this somewhere. There’s only so much wine you can drink.”

The Sonoma County Board of Supervisors will hold a policy workshop on Tuesday, Nov. 2, at 6:30 p.m., to hear the presentation of a new study by the University of California on the implications for public policy and environmental impact of continued vineyard expansion. The next Town Hall Coalition meeting is scheduled for Dec. 7, at 7:30 p.m., at the Occidental Community Center, corner of Bohemian Highway and Graton Road. Call 874-9110 for details.

From the October 28-November 3, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Story of Us

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Renegade write Daniel Evan Weiss on self pleasuring, cinematic morality, and the Michelle Pfeiffer’s face

Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This column is not a movie review; rather, it’s a freewheeling, tangential discussion of life, alternative ideas, and popular culture.

We will eventually talk about masturbation.

But first we have to escape the theater.

“I gotta tell you,” says Daniel Evan Weiss, rushing for the door, “Michelle Pfeiffer has one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s the modern equivalent of Helen of Troy. ‘The face that launched a thousand ships.’ She’s that beautiful.”

He turns left at the corridor, and makes a bee-line for the exit sign.

“And when Michelle Pfeiffer gives the camera that ‘love look,'” he goes on, “it’s just absolutely staggering.”

We’ve made it. We’re outside. Gulping great lungs-full of psychic fresh air, we stand in the sunshine as Weiss finished his point. “But in this movie,” he says, referring to the Story of Us , starring Pfeiffer and Bruce Willis, “instead of ‘Helen of Troy,’ she’s ‘Helen-going-for-double-coupons.’ She’s Helen of Oh-So-Ordinary, the queen of domestic schlock! What an astonishing waste of that face.”

Daniel Evan Weiss sounds a bit worked up, but be assured–he’s not.

This, according to numerous reports, is Weiss’s normal state of being: a kind of ongoing, electrified, conversational outspokenness, with a tendency toward offbeat, stream-of-consciousness observations mingled with wildly confessional outbursts.

He’s also one of the best kept secrets in American literature.

A certified cultural phenomenon in France, where his books are routinely bestsellers, the New York author is virtually unknown in his own country, where his books don’t fit neatly onto the neatly-categorized shelves of your standard bookstore.

Now in the midst of a self-financed reading tour–promoting his newest work, the mind-boggling Honk if You Love Aphrodite (Serpent’s Tail; 1999). An audaciously crafted epic poem, of sorts, it’s about the love, passion, and the son of Aphrodite.

To a core group of cult-like devotees, Daniel Evan Weiss is a literary savior, the creator of outrageously one-of-a-kind novels that used to be called Literary Fiction and are now referred to as . . . well, that’s the problem. His books defy categorization. Newsday, in reviewing The Swine’s Wedding, dubbed Weiss, “the Evel Knievel of novelists.” The Observer tends to call him Madman Weiss, and the German magazine Diesel proclaimed that, in The Roaches Have No King ( a tale narrated by an army of cockroaches), he’d created “the single most ingenious murder in the history of literature.”

It was Weiss who chose The Story of Us for our afternoon at the movies. The reason is now obvious.

“I’d see Michelle Pfeiffer in anything,” he says without blushing.

Unfortunately, the movie–the tale of a modern marriage coming unglued–is burdened with a script in which all the principals are shallow and annoying, speaking dialogue that sounds like fortune cookie pronouncements written by Borscht-belt comedians.

“What was the problem between them anyway?” Weiss asks, over lunch. “What was the source of these people’s marital difficulty? That he ‘painted outside the line,’ and she ‘painted in it?’ This is grounds for divorce? Jesus, their differences were so trivial you just wanted to take them out and smack them.”

On the other hand, suggests Weiss, “We never saw any evidence that they really needed each other, either, that there was some unifying element in their marriage, something they both craved from one another in their lives. It never appeared.”

We now discuss the scene in which Willis, supposedly yearning for a reconciliation, somehow finds himself being haltingly seduced by Pfeiffer. So what does he do? Instead of kissing her so ignite some passion, he flings himself on the bed and says something stupid about bicycle riding.

Sex, needless to say, does not occur.

“This was a P.C. movie,” Weiss explains, “so he couldn’t strike pussy until he had seen himself through her eyes. It wouldn’t have been right. Only after having an emotional epiphany can he earn the right to return to the honey pot.

“Also, she was not morally allowed to offer him the pot until she had acquired a moral clarity as to what her marriage was supposed to be. She had to eat her own words in the final act, just as he had to eat his.”

I see. Another standout moment in the film was the lunch-time conversation–between Willis and his pals Rob Reiner (the director) and Paul Reiser–on the subject of masturbation. (See, I promised we’d get to masturbation).

“I’ve been part of many profound masturbation conversations in my life,” Weiss says. “And it never sounded anything like the stuff in this movie.”

I ask him to elaborate.

“I can’t remember my own masturbation talks clearly enough to elaborate,” he replies. “What about you?”

“Well, I was part of a masturbation summit once,” I confess.

“A what?”

“A masturbation summit,” I repeat. “A long time ago. A group of youth Bible study leaders met with the leaders of our church to try to get a final scripture-based decision on whether or not masturbation was a sin.”

“What did you come up with?”

“All the unmarried, teenage guys decided that there was no proof that masturbation was a sin, but the married guys, the ones in charge, decided that the sin was only in the sexual fantasizing that usually takes place during masturbation.”

“So if you could masturbate without thinking of sex . . .”

“Then it wasn’t a sin. Right.”

Weiss just stares for several seconds, pondering this information.

“You know, one of the things I’ve always admired about Judaism,” he finally says, “is that there’s sexual awareness built right into the religion. From the Ten Commandments on, they knew what people were really like, they were building prescriptions for life that were based on actual human behavior.

“The biggest difference between Judaism and Christianity,” he observes, “is that in Judaism, God punishes you for what you do, but in Christianity God also nails you for what you think.”

Somehow, our thoughts return to The Story of Us, in which the unhappy couple each experience a well-timed emotional breakthrough–changes of mind that may even lead to actual marital unity.

“It was ridiculously symetrical, wasn’t it?” Weiss says. “They each had a little matching epiphany. Like bookends. Every fits together in the end.”

“What, life isn’t like that?” I say.

“Well,” Weiss shrugs, “maybe my life has been particularly bad.”

From the October 28-November 3, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

J. K. Rowling

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Potter Training

A whimsical fantasy turns kids into something shocking–eager readers

TO DOMINIC, an energetic eighth-grader at Anderson Valley Junior High School, playing sports has always been his first priority: soccer, basketball, you name it. It’s understandable, then, with his after-school hours so jam-packed with athletic activities, that there’s never been much time left over for other, less physical pursuits. Reading books, for example.

“I never used to read,” says Dominic. “There was just no time.”

Then along came Harry Potter, wizard in training.

With a mighty wave of his magic wand, the fictional hero of J .K. Rowling’s best-selling book series cast a kind of spell over Dominic–and an entire generation of kids–a spell that’s turned scores of former non-readers into dedicated book-sponges.

“Now I make sure I have time to read at night,” says Dominic, who is halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the third book in the series that began with Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. “They are by far the best books I’ve ever read,” he says. “For the first time, my parents have to tell me stop reading because it’s too late.”

Hallelujah.

Young Harry Potter, that resourceful orphan boy with the noticeable lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and a knack for making “unexpected things” happen, has evolved from being a word-of-mouth favorite into a certified international phenomenon. His creator, Edinburgh-based Rowling (who makes a sold-out appearance in Santa Rosa on Oct. 29), wrote the first book while she was a single mom struggling to make ends meet.

When the third book was released last month, bookstores around the country reported first-day lines of Potter-philes that wrapped around the block. Many of those eager young readers finished the book by lights-out that very same day.

Here’s the remarkable thing: many of these kids admit that, normally, they pretty much avoid reading. Yet there they were, hiding beneath their covers until they’d absorbed the last exciting word on the very last page. Time magazine, which ran a cover story on the books that week, canonized Harry Potter as the biggest thing to hit reluctant readers since teachers stopped using corporal punishment.

“”I cannot say I’ve ever seen anything like it,” exclaims Linda Chemos, children’s library assistant in Petaluma, where the latest Harry Potter has a waiting list of over 50 names. “Children are wild about this book.”

It seems everyone’s wild about Harry–and his biggest fans are the librarians and booksellers whose workplaces have been turned upside down by all the extra foot traffic.

Other Realms: More fantasy books for kids.

But are the Harry Potter books really turning non-readers into book-lovers–or are they merely turning all these kids into readers of Harry Potter books?

“It’s a very good question, and I think it’s one that needs to be answered by each individual child,” says Patty Lewis, children’s library coordinator of Sonoma County. That said, she insists that the Harry Potter phenomenon has begun to expand beyond those specific books, much the way a blockbuster movie like Titanic or The Phantom Menace often creates an appetite for other films at the same time.

“We’re seeing many children, kids who’ve never been big readers,” says Lewis, “who are coming into the libraries and the bookstores and saying, ‘I’ve just finished all the Harry Potter books. What else have you got that’s like that?’ It’s true. It’s amazing!”

“I’ve definitely seen proof of that,” says Emma McMacken, a bookseller at Readers’ Books in Sonoma. “Parents will bring their kids into the store looking for guidance now that their kids have suddenly developed an actual interest in reading.” She is pleased to tell them that there are plenty of good books where Harry Potter came from.

“Harry Potter’s been a very good thing,” she says.

Indeed. So the next question is, How can we capitalize on the mania, ensuring that these fresh converts don’t experience any cooling of their newly kindled literary fires? To that end, some bookstores and libraries have set up displays featuring other fantasy-themed books, with signs proclaiming, “If you liked Harry, you’ll love these!” Librarians are passing out lists of books that Potter fans might enjoy while waiting for Rowling to finish the fourth book. Teachers are pressing The Lord of the Rings and the Narnia Chronicles into the same hands that just recently held Harry Potter books. (For a few other ideas, see the sidebar on this page.)

It seems to be working.

Elizabeth Overmyer, the children’s librarian at Berkeley City Library, says, “Four weeks ago we put together a list called ‘Waiting for Harry Potter,’ along with a big display with stacks of suggested books, mostly from other fantasy series.”

It was an instant success.

“Now we’re having a hard time keeping books in the display,” she sighs, happily. “The books are all being checked out. It’s marvelous. The Potter books have given the whole culture permission to enjoy this cracking good yarn,” says Overmyer, “and whether you’re in the third grade or the eighth grade, you can tell a librarian that you like Harry Potter–and you don’t have to whisper it. You can acknowledge it in front of your peers.”

Not that every kid will be lured into reading by Harry’s magic wand and derring-do.

“I don’t like fairy tales and magic books,’ says Brittany, of Anderson Valley Junior High. “But we gave the books to my little cousin, who always hated reading. Now she won’t stop. She reads all the time.”

“There’s an old saying that librarians have,” Lewis says. “‘The right book for the right child at the right time.’ If you put those three elements together, you just might click on that reading light, and hopefully it will stay lit for a lifetime.”

From the October 28-November 3, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Grapes

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By Janet Wells

JUST HOW IMPORTANT are grapes to Sonoma County? Consider that the revenue from wine grapes almost doubled in the last five years, and in 1998 made up almost half of the county’s $450 million take from agricultural crops.

Sonoma County has established itself in the lucrative premium-grape niche, which has pushed prices from $950 a ton in 1989 to an average of $1,800 a ton in 1998. The best local pinot noir now commands upwards of $3,500 a ton–a fact that explains the increased demand for vineyard conversions as the Redwood Empire transforms itself wholeheartedly into the Wine Country.

Forty thousand acres of grapes–a 20 percent increase in the past five years–is Sonoma County’s cash cow, and those who have been fighting for regulation of the industry know that tampering with grape growing is akin to attacking the lifeblood of Sonoma County.

As executive director of Sonoma County Conservation Action (the county’s largest conservation organization), Mark Green is one of the region’s environmental stalwarts. But when he signed on to a historic agreement between environmentalists and grape growers that morphed into the much-contested Hillside Vineyard Ordinance, Green suddenly found himself on the defensive, accused by activists of selling out to the county’s powerful agriculture industry.

“I wish that I could have the luxury of being able to take a very purist ideological interpretation and say it’s all or nothing,” Green says of the compromise. “The standard I apply is how does it affect the environment? If you use that measuring stick, this ordinance is a significant jump over the unregulated environment we were in before.”

The Town Hall Coalition “adds to the chorus of voices calling for regulation of the impact of the wine industry,” he says. “It is very valuable for there to be ongoing public activity that puts pressure on county government to be further regulating expansion of the industry.

“What is not productive,” he adds as a caveat, “is inflammatory language, personal attacks, and shooting at one another as environmentalists.

“There’s a stridency of tone among some of the people that have monopolized a lot of the time at town hall forums and who, at the last minute, raised concerns about the vineyard ordinance that was already approved, attacking it for what it wasn’t, rather than for what it was,” he says.

“Those of us engaged in the nuts and bolts of the process know that taking two steps forward and going back one is better than trying to take 10 steps forward and going back none.”

From the October 28-November 3, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Energy Drinks

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X-Drinks

America is warming up to those caffeinated energy drinks–no bull!

TIM SCHROCK works hard. Then he plays hard. Then he works some more. An avid soccer-player and full-time grocery manager at the upscale Petaluma Market, Schrock–like most of us–needs a little energy boost now and then just to keep focused and moving. He used to depend on coffee, several cups a day, but eventually got sick of it.

“Literally,” he says straightforwardly. “The stuff gave me the jitters.”

Now when he’s working a long shift at the store, or preparing for a big soccer match, he’ll reach, not for a cup of joe, but for a nice cold energy drink.

That’s right. An energy drink. The kind that come in those cute little cans.

You’ve seen them, in the markets or local health clubs, in the student union at the college, or in the brown-bag lunch of some guy you know at work. The tiny little beverages with the funny names–Red Bull, Merlin’s Elixir, Nitro Glycerine, XTC–and a great big fully caffeinated wallop to the adrenal system.

These beverages, weighing in at an average 7.7 ounces per sleek and slender can, have been slowly nudging their way into American hands, after a full decade of phenomenal popularity in Asia and Europe. Introduced to the states only about three years ago, energy drinks arrived in the conspicuous form of XTC–marketed not as a drink, but as a “carbonated slap in the face”–a product of Liechtenstein.

Originally aimed at affluent baby boomers, serious athletes, and extreme-sports types, the market has changed directions as dozens of other companies have trotted out their own versions of what they like to call “functional beverages.” You don’t drink them for the taste or to quench your thirst, you see; functional beverages have to do something to you, preferably something you feel all the way to the tip of your toes.

What’s the Buzz? Local experts sample a collection of buzz-making nectars and offer their straight-shooting opinions

Though the drinks are kind of pricey–around $1.50 a pop–their main consumer, according to industry reports, is now your basic working stiff (especially truck drivers, late-shift employees) and college students.

Packed with caffeine–often derived in part from a face-slapping Amazonian root called guarana–the drinks also feature medicine cabinets full of vitamins and other supplements and legal energizers. In Asia–where those tiny little cans originated (even Coca-Cola is sold in the downsized version)–the drinks are all the rage among the working class, whose long hours mean massive fatigue. Last year in Thailand, the government allowed a 30 percent increase in the drinks’ caffeine level, just to give the workers an extra boost.

And a boost they do give.

Most of the drinks carry warnings meant to scare off diabetics and people with heart problems.

“I’ll put it this way,” says Shrock. “They work.”

For the record, his personal favorite is an all-organic version called Cinagro Energy Plus, the best-selling energy drink in the store. “All the drinks sell pretty well,” says Schrock, “though obviously not compared to water or juice or soda or coffee. But we’ve designated an entire four-foot shelf to our energy drinks. They definitely warrant the space.”

Energy drinks have found their way into fitness clubs and gymnasiums as well.

“They’re very popular in the gym,” says Chuck Mignosa or Gold’s Gym in Santa Rosa. “Real popular. People do use them as a pick-me-up, like coffee, to give them the energy for a workout. Those drinks do work–they really give you the energy to train on.”

Gold’s sells several varieties. According to Mignosa, though, most of the athletes he trains prefer to skip the “soda pop” energy drinks, reaching instead for products like Blue Thunder, Nitro Glycerine, or Zero Tea–beverages specially designed to stimulate while offering additional supplements to build muscle and burn fat.

Not everyone is charmed by the little cans, however.

Dan Harvey, a night-shift supervisor at a Marin County newspaper, says the energy drinks are too sweet–and too expensive–for his taste. “I don’t care how much caffeine they have in them,” he says. “Give me a good strong cup of coffee and I’ve got all the energy I need.”

From the October 28-November 3, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

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Jukin’

Juke box faves of yesterday and today

By Greg Cahill

The Charlatans UK Us and Us Only MCA

IT’S A FLASHBACK! Or maybe a flash forward. Or whatever. Churchlike atmospherics and swirling psychedelia abound in the sixth and latest offering from these snarling British popsters known as one of the most disaster-prone bands in the fertile Manchester music scene of the ’80s that also spawned the Stone Roses and the Happy Mondays. Dashes of swamp blues and Stonesy guitar riffs register high on the kick-ass rock meter. The follow-up to 1997’s Tellin’ Stories, recorded shortly after the devastating death of pivotal keyboardist Rob Collins (once jailed for being an accessory in an armed robbery), rocks hard and digs even deeper into their acid-drenched rock roots.

B.B. King Let the Good Times Roll MCA

HE’S CALLED the Ambassador of the Blues, and the legendary B. B. King spreads plenty of goodwill on this rollicking tribute to musical pioneer Louis Jordan, the humorous band-leader whose combo in the late ’40s and early ’50s bridged the gap between the swing era and the then-emerging R&B revolution. King is right at home with this material, having spent his formative years crafting some mighty fine jump blues. And the songs are at once familiar, leaning toward the wry side, as in “Somebody Done Changed the Lock on My Door.” Best of all, this marks a solid return to form for King, the often overproduced blues giant who now has a string of three stripped-down discs under his belt. This may be the best of the bunch.

Various Artists Sony Music: Soundtrack for a Century Columbia/Epic/Legacy

THERE ARE box sets and then there’s this behemoth (26-CD, 547-song, 308-page booklet) box set that hit stores this week celebrating 100 years of recorded music by the various labels of the huge Sony Music Corp. Tapping the millennial fever that is raging throughout the media, Sony delivers the goods in grand style with genre-specific discs–also available in a more affordable series of two- and three-CD sets spotlighting country, blues, jazz, etc.–that run the gamut from the first wax cylinder recording of John Philip Sousa’s “The Washington Post March” (1890) by the U.S. Marine Band to the hillbilly fiddle tunes of Charlie Poole & the North Carolina Ramblers, from the chart-topping hip-hoppin’ hybrid of rap diva Lauryn Hill to the overblown guitar rock of Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” featured in the Armageddon soundtrack. And Armageddon might just arrive before you have a chance to actually spin all these tracks.

Stan Ridgeway Anatomy UltraModern/New West

TAKE A ride on Desolation Row. As the driving force behind Wall of Voodoo, the loopy band responsible for the 1980 cult hit “Mexican Radio,” Stan Ridgeway returns with a new solo album and a dozen songs that deal with the darker shades of the human condition. Hailed as equal parts Raymond Chandler, John Houston, Rod Sterling, and Johnny Cash, Ridgeway evokes a cinematic aura reminiscent of film noir. This is 3 o’clock in the morning, one-more-heartache, and too-many-tequilas kind of music–maudlin reflections on despair draped in a somewhat cheesy, nearly naked production that lacks the twangier twist of Ridgeway’s best material. Still, at a time when the alt-rock world that Ridgeway once helped define is adrift in a sea of mediocre songwriters, a little Stan Ridgeway can be a soothing balm. Techie alert: This disc contains a Liquid Audio multimedia live EP that features some of Ridgeway’s quasi-hits.

Holy Modal Rounders The Holy Modal Rounders 1 & 2 Fantasy

MOST FOLKS first heard of the Holy Modal Rounders via “Bird Song,” a goofy tune included on the Easy Rider soundtrack. But this absurdist folk duo of fiddler and banjo-picker Peter Stampfel and guitarist Steve Weber spun two classic collections of surrealist songs in 1963-64 that were as outrageous in their own day as they are now. This new reissue includes both albums, featuring a slate of ragged blues, Appalachian stomps, and quirky originals, including the Greenwich Village drinking ditty “Blues in the Bottle” with its fine line “rooster chews tobacco.” These sides can still shake the cobwebs. Get a jump on your spring cleaning.

From the October 21-27, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Ravenous Cafe

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Culinary joy: Chef Joyanne Pezzolo, along with husband, John, has created one of the North Bay’s most popular eateries.

Somethin’ to Crow About

Seasoned Ravenous continues to satisfy

By Paula Harris

ANTICIPATION is part of the pleasure of dining at tiny Ravenous Cafe in Healdsburg. Since there are only eight tables and the affable staff never pressures one to hurry, a short wait (even if you drift in with dinner reservations) isn’t unusual. But half the fun is in sitting outside on the rustic rough-hewn bench out front on a mellow autumn night and savoring the cooking smells wafting out to the street while you peruse the beautifully handwritten menu.

By day, Ravenous is a welcome retreat from the increasing bustle of the plaza. You can meet good friends for a lazy lunch, to chew the fat and feast on tasty smoked trout and warm potato salad, or a bowl of soup–like the Moroccan red-lentil broth–and maybe share a glass of sauvignon blanc.

By night, the cozy restaurant is a warm, shadowy hideaway. Oversize tortoiseshell-framed mirrors, faux tiger-skin banquettes, deep ochre walls, topaz-hued beaded candleholders, and Natalie Merchant’s lilting voice flowing from the sound system give the intimate feel of dining in a gourmet chef’s dusky bedroom.

While culinary new kids in town–organic-inspired Acre Cafe and Lounge and the flashy bistro Zin–may have grabbed all the attention of late, it bears mentioning that Ravenous (which is attached to the venerable Raven Theater) steadily has been turning out creative, high-quality fare for the past eight years. It’s a tribute to chef-owners John and Joyanne Pezzolo, who add thought and love to their food, and have never let their standards drop.

A recent dinner proved it.

The evening’s cream of tomato soup ($3.50) had an unusual but pleasing texture: a warm silky base bolstered with semi-crunchy vegetables and chunks of whole fresh tomato. It was topped with a dollop of sour cream and fresh basil leaves. Each tomato-y spoonful perked up our appetites.

We gasped at the sight of the smoked salmon appetizer ($8.50), equally impressed by the colorful ingredients in shades of green, orange, black, and yellow, and the super-generous portion. Having been charged $7 for an appetizer consisting of three miserable midsized shrimp (and little else) at a new restaurant in Sonoma recently, this was a glutton’s dream.

Luscious slices of the smoky rose-gold fish rested atop warm and fluffy corn cakes, which resembled old-fashioned popovers. Scoops of gleaming (though a bit bland-tasting) gold and black caviar, topped with crème fraîche. The dish was garnished with a wreath of large pungent salty caperberries (extra-large capers on stems), some peppery mesclun greens, and a thick wedge of fresh lemon for spritzing. Terrific!

Our vegetarian dining companion gave thumbs up to the roasted chili pepper entrée ($12.50). “It captures your interest,” he enthused, caressing the bountiful plateful with his fork. The dish, a roasted poblano-type chili pepper stuffed with potatoes, hominy, greens, and jack cheese with grilled corn salsa, black beans, yellow rice, and lightly fried house-made corn tortillas on the side, certainly was a rainbow of tastes and a visual delight.

The pork tenderloin scaloppini ($15)–delicate slices of melt-in-the-mouth pork in a wine, cremini mushroom, and sage sauce–was another winner. It was accompanied by airy, baked cheese-scented polenta as light as a feather-down comforter, and exceptionally moist roasted white turnips. Cauliflower, green beans, squash, and roasted Bermuda onion with a slight caramel flavor completed the dish.

The Asian pear and huckleberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream ($6) was light and sconelike with chunky pears, teeny purple huckleberries, and smooth ice cream. It had a delectable natural fruit flavor without extra added sugar.

And the chocolate crème pie with chocolate sauce ($5.75) featured a pale gold pastry shell with a milk chocolate pudding interior, set on a pool of dark chocolate, drizzled with more dark chocolate, and topped with a cloud of whipped cream.

Toe-curlin’ good.

The servers were friendly and efficient. Our one gripe was that they (at least the two we questioned) lacked the wine knowledge to make pairing suggestions. However, our server did let us taste some of the wines offered by the glass before we made our selections.

The Peterson 1997 pinot noir ($7.50 per glass) had a strawberry, balsamic, black pepper flavor that was a good match with the pork dish. And the Ledson 1997 chardonnay ($7.50 per glass) was full-bodied, buttery-rich, and heavy enough to drink with creamy seafood or pasta dishes–or all by itself.

Make those reservations and take your appetite along. We anticipate you won’t be disappointed.

Ravenous 117 North St., Healdsburg; 431-1770 Hours: Wednesday-Sunday, lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.; dinner, 5 to 9:30 p.m. Food: Eclectic American bistro-style; lovely desserts Service: Friendly, low-key Ambiance: Intimate Price: Moderate (no credit cards accepted) Wine list: Good selection, including several interesting wines offered by the glass Overall: 3 1/2 stars (out of 4)

From the October 21-27, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Savage Jazz Dance Company

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Pure Energy

The Savage Jazz Dance Company thrives on spontaneity and live music

By Marina Wolf

IT’S A SUNNY, sleepy Sunday afternoon in Berkeley, a time when most College Avenue denizens are still recovering from brunch. But upstairs at the Shawl-Anderson Dance Studio, the dancers of the Savage Jazz Dance Company are just launching a rehearsal that feels like a sweaty Saturday night.

The dancers swing, strut, pose in catty clusters, and explode in exuberant pas de deux and cross-the-floor chases, while along one wall, the musicians–who perform onstage with the dancers at their shows–let loose on some Ellington jam.

Meanwhile, choreographer Reginald Ray-Savage is sitting down for the first run-through of the day, but that doesn’t mean he’s sitting still. His hands clap, his legs bounce as he tracks the shifting groups of dancers from his seat at the edge of the dance floor. He’ll be getting up in a few minutes to demonstrate a jeté or to push someone’s hip into place, but for now he’s seated. From time to time he shouts, not commands but call-outs, the kind that erupt in a concert when the groove is on.

“Higher!” he hollers, jerking his chin toward the ceiling. “Move! Yeah! Now! Go!”

The dancers–who perform Oct. 23 and 24 at Spreckels–don’t need much more direction than that. After years of training with Savage, the company of young dancers moves with confidence, almost bravado, to the bold, sultry music of 40 or 50 years ago. It is this exposure to classical jazz that makes them a rarity in the jazz dance world, says the 41-year-old Savage.

“Every other jazz class, they get Ricky Martin, Backstreet Boys, whoever’s hot. They only use pop music,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Then people come in here and they hear Mingus and they go, ‘What? This ain’t jazz. The tempo’s too fast.’ And I say, ‘Naw, this is jazz music, baby. Watchoo been listening to?’ ”

Obviously they haven’t been listening to Savage’s musical collaborator, Marcus Shelby, a 31-year-old bass player and jazz composer whose original works and smooth classical covers of the jazz greats–Ellington, Monk, Parker, Mingus–snagged him and his orchestra the Best Local Jazz Group award from the readers of the San Francisco Bay Guardian.

During the rehearsal Shelby is impassive as he plucks his strings and watches the dancers respond, but get him in the chair and start him talking about the relationship that develops among the performers, and his face relaxes into a small but satisfied smile.

“It’s really jazz, all the same spontaneity, the improv, the energy,” says Shelby. “And it changes every time we play. Maybe my clarinet player woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, so he’s going to play a little angry, which is going to cause the dancers to dance a certain way, which is going to cause my piano player to look at them strange. Every night there’s a different dynamic. Every day is fresh.”

“The band keeps you so much more on your toes,” agrees dancer Susannah Blumenstock.

“We’re learning how to dance in musicians’ terms,” she says. “Musicians count differently, they signal changes differently. And when they’re onstage and really going, suddenly we go from 12 performers to 23.”

DANCING to live onstage music is just one of the ways Savage has parted from his more “classical” dance background. In his hometown of St. Louis, Savage started in modern dance at the Katherine Dunham Dance Company. During his performing career he danced in several civic and regional ballet companies, including the Ruth Page Ballet Chicago and the St. Louis Black Repertory Dance Company (a now-defunct arm of the St. Louis Black Repertory Company).

Savage still retains a healthy respect for the traditions he has stepped away from, and doesn’t hesitate to use the technique in training his dancers. He quotes George Balanchine frequently and displays some of the ballet master’s terse discipline to instill a sense of structure for his dancers. He even acknowledges the glitzed-out Broadway jazz as an important influence in his life, if only for offering its choreographers as role models.

“I love Bob Fosse. Please!” he exclaims. “When I saw All That Jazz, I knew it was all right to be straight, smoke, and dance. So please, Lordy, wherever Mr. Fosse is . . .” Here he presses his palms together and bows in respect. “But where’s the dance to Ellington or Mingus? Until you do that, you’re not really talking about jazz choreography.”

In a world that tends to give more credence to the musical traditions of another continent, Savage is almost, well, savage in his promotion of jazz music. To insist that there is something inherently better about classical music is possibly racist, says Savage, and definitely ridiculous.

“There are only 88 keys on that piano,” says Savage, jabbing his finger vigorously at the scratched-up upright pushed into an alcove. “Everybody who’s ever played the piano has played on 88 keys. . . . Duke Ellington and Peter Tchaikovsky played the same piano. It’s not a question of being better, it’s two people being totally different.”

On the side, Shelby is basking in the glow of Savage’s passionate defense. The two understand each other and appreciate what the other does for the art form, and so by extension the performers do, too.

“The band loves to play for this group,” Shelby says, flashing a grin at Savage. “I didn’t tell you this, but they’re always asking when we’re going to be playing with the Savage dancers again.” He turns his attention back to the guest. “It’s like playing a gig at a club or festival. It’s the same energy. We don’t have to tone things down so they can dance. . . .”

“It’s not background at all!” Savage interrupts to agree. “I need them to play, play, play!”

The Savage Jazz Dance Company performs Oct. 23 and 24; Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 2:30 p.m. Spreckels Performing Arts Center, 409 Snyder Lane, Rohnert Park. $18. 588-3400.

From the October 21-27, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Walter Kirn

‘Thumbsucker’ mostly covers old ground

By Patrick Sullivan

“HERE WE GO again,” mutters the constant reader with a quiet sigh as he or she wades into the first chapter of Thumbsucker. “Here’s another author with another painful story about the agony of adolescence who thinks it’s his job to tell us about it and our duty to listen.”

Surely any reader, constant or intermittent, can be forgiven for approaching Walter Kirn’s latest novel with a jaded eye and a cynical heart. In Thumbsucker (Doubleday; $14), Kirn introduces us to Justin Cobb, a terminally anxious teenaged oral compulsive who moves from sucking his thumb to finding far worse things to stick in his mouth. Caught without shelter in the fierce storm of adolescence, our beleaguered narrator weathers sexual angst, family dysfunction, and drug experiments gone awry.

If any of this sounds familiar, it’s probably because there may be no period of life more closely examined in contemporary fiction than the troublesome years between Little League and our first trip to the bar or the ballot box. The coming-of-age novel has been transformed from a classic form to an industry standard, with all that implies–quick turn-around, shoddy workmanship, and relentlessly familiar contents.

To make such a work stand out, an author has to take his book off the assembly line and imprint it deeply with his own personality. To his credit, Kirn has done just that: the novel’s greatest strength is the author’s idiosyncratic sense of humor, sly yet somehow innocent, light as a kiss from a dying man and just as morbid.

In Thumbsucker, as in real life, part of growing up is making the disturbing but entertaining discovery that everyone around you is at least mildly insane. The book’s protagonist encounters events like the “Muscular Dystrophy Fun Fair” and watches driver’s ed films like Death Drives Ninety. Everyone Justin meets has bizarre advice to offer, from the light-fingered manager of the gas station where he works (“I like your honesty. Leaves twice as much for me”) to the Mormon missionaries who come knocking on his door.

The narrator’s oral compulsive nature becomes a metaphor: Not only does everyone want to tell Justin how to live; they all want to put something in his mouth–his dad’s raw deer meat, his dentist’s Ritalin, his quasi-girlfriend’s pot. Usually, he sucks the offered object down out of need and fear.

Chief among his tormentors (and easily the most vivid character in the book) is Justin’s father, Mike, a wounded jock with a taste for blood who manifests a repellent combination of brutality and vulnerability. Heading for a mental breakdown, he comes off as driven yet helpless, abusive yet deeply interested in bonding with his son. He cuts Justin’s hair with a Swiss Army knife. He tries to cure the titular thumbsucking with hot pepper on the offending digit. Above all, he tries to infect his boy with his own pathological competitiveness.

A friend of the family suggests to Justin that someone should tell his dad the news: “It’s the nineteen eighties. The West’s been won.”

“We’ve tried,” the teenager replies. “He disagrees.”

But dad is also the funniest person in this book–albeit unintentionally: “I try not to go by averages,” he sagely advises his son. “Averages, a wise man told me once, are usually an excuse for something.” Shoplifting, he explains another time, is driving up the price of milk. They shoplift milk? his son asks. “They shoplift everything,” Mike replies. “Milk is where they recapture the lost profits.”

But while Thumbsucker has a sense of humor and some compelling characters, there are some profound weaknesses here. Not only does the novel mostly cover well-trodden ground, but many of the author’s attempts to take us into new territory feel unduly contrived.

Obviously, Kirn isn’t aiming for strict realism, but it’s hard to take his narrative too seriously when it keeps veering deep into a Twilight Zone. His narrator has close encounters with celebrity actors, discovers that his boss has burned down the gas station to collect insurance money, and watches his middle-aged dentist change from an easygoing hippie into a patriotic National Guardsman. Often, the author’s uncontrolled taste for the absurd takes the edge off his story.

Still, there’s much to like about Thumbsucker, especially its main character, poised on the brink of adulthood but far from sure that he wants to jump over the edge. And maybe Justin’s dilemma explains why coming-of-age novels keep popping up on the shelves: Who among us hasn’t wanted a second shot at that particular leap of faith?

From the October 21-27, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

‘Live Love Acts’

Live Love Acts. X-Rated Excellence 'Live Love Acts' a hilarious tale By Daedalus Howell "FUCK ME silly, you bad, bad performance artist!" From any writer-performer other than Fred Curchack, the line would be tantamount to yelling "Fire!" in a crowded theater--a good way of emptying the house. But in Curchack's...

Vineyard Expansion

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Renegade write Daniel Evan Weiss on self pleasuring, cinematic morality, and the Michelle Pfeiffer's face Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This column is not a movie review; rather, it's a freewheeling, tangential discussion of life, alternative ideas, and popular culture....

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Grapes

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Energy Drinks

X-Drinks America is warming up to those caffeinated energy drinks--no bull! TIM SCHROCK works hard. Then he plays hard. Then he works some more. An avid soccer-player and full-time grocery manager at the upscale Petaluma Market, Schrock--like most of us--needs a little energy boost now and then just to...

Spins

Jukin' Juke box faves of yesterday and today By Greg Cahill The Charlatans UK Us and Us Only MCA IT'S A FLASHBACK! Or maybe a flash forward. Or whatever. Churchlike atmospherics and swirling psychedelia abound in the sixth and latest offering from these snarling British popsters...

Ravenous Cafe

Culinary joy: Chef Joyanne Pezzolo, along with husband, John, has created one of the North Bay's most popular eateries. Somethin' to Crow About Seasoned Ravenous continues to satisfy By Paula Harris ANTICIPATION is part of the pleasure of dining at tiny Ravenous Cafe in Healdsburg. Since there are...

Savage Jazz Dance Company

Pure Energy The Savage Jazz Dance Company thrives on spontaneity and live music By Marina Wolf IT'S A SUNNY, sleepy Sunday afternoon in Berkeley, a time when most College Avenue denizens are still recovering from brunch. But upstairs at the Shawl-Anderson Dance Studio, the dancers of the Savage Jazz Dance Company...

Walter Kirn

'Thumbsucker' mostly covers old ground By Patrick Sullivan "HERE WE GO again," mutters the constant reader with a quiet sigh as he or she wades into the first chapter of Thumbsucker. "Here's another author with another painful story about the agony of adolescence who thinks it's his job to tell us about it...
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