Leslie Cole & Nancy Sasha Long

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Lust Letters

Seductions.

Michael Amsler



First-time eroticists make a big splash in new anthology of sexy tales

By David Templeton

LESLIE COLE, tucked into a sunny corner of a downtown Santa Rosa coffeehouse, has made up her mind that she’s going to tell a story. She has to think about it a moment, has to consider whether it is an appropriate tale to tell a total stranger.

She apparently decides that it is.

“OK. I was out at the beach, boogie-boarding,” the Occidental teacher and writer begins, leaning forward, hands folded on the table before her. “But I couldn’t catch any waves. Finally, I caught this one wave, a perfect wave. It was incredible! It was fun. It felt great! The only way I can describe it is to say that I was suddenly full of joy.

“Then I looked over,” she goes on, slowly turning her head to demonstrate, “and there was this man. He’d caught the same wave I had–waves are big, right? Lots of room–and there he was, having as much fun as I was. And he looks over at me as we’re both gliding into the shore, and there was this … connection. A strong, strong connection.

“And I had this urge. I suddenly wanted to kiss him.”

Cole pauses, sipping her tea. She lets the big question–did she or didn’t she?–hang in the air for several long seconds.

“But, of course, I didn’t kiss him,” she finally admits, laughing. “He was a total stranger. I’m not going to do that. But I wondered about that for a while: ‘What if I had?’

“Things like that happen to everybody, don’t they?” she adds. “You’re standing in the line at the supermarket and you see somebody really beautiful and you have an urge to do something about it, to say something at least. But you don’t. You just stand there and write out your check.”

What Leslie Cole did do with her urge was write a story, an erotic “what if” that begins with the author’s “same-wave-moment-of-connection” and follows it up with a might-have-been scenario involving saltwater, wet suits, and a certain amount of wet bare skin.

Though Cole has been writing most of her life, the resulting story–“A Conversation about Green Water”–was her first try at erotica. Recently published in Lonnie Barbach’s latest erotic anthology, Seductions: Tales of Erotic Persuasion (Dutton; $23.95), the story is also Cole’s first work to appear in a high-profile book by a major publisher.

Seductions has been receiving a lot of attention of late, with its wide variety of amorous encounters ranging from the humorous kinkiness of a man having sex with his wife’s best friend only to discover it’s really his wife disguised as the friend (or is it the friend pretending to be the wife masquerading as the friend?) to the offbeat supernatural carnality of vampires expressing their surprisingly randy inner selves. With two of its contributors hailing from Sonoma County–that would be Cole and fellow first-timer Nancy Sasha Long–Seductions has been selling so well hereabouts that some local bookstores have had difficulty keeping the book in stock.

As for Cole, her involvement might not have happened at all if not for the intervention of a colleague, Tiny Lights publisher Susan Bono, who’d received a “call for entries” from Barbach, a noted psychologist and author whose books include a number of collections of erotic writings by women.

“The assignment was to ‘write about being seduced,’ ” Cole says. “I treated it like a job. An assignment. I have this many pages to write on this subject.”

Her first few attempts, she says, “were flat as a pancake. I couldn’t get my characters to be explicit enough. It’s like they were too shy to do a sex scene. They weren’t going to play and let me watch.” Eventually, with time running out, she recalled her semi- libidinous adventure in the surf and used it as a starting point.

“I like to begin my stories in the natural world, so two people in the water seemed like a good place to start,” she explains. “I just love water, anyway. I swim and I surf. … Maybe it’s some kind of amniotic thing–we all came from water, the water of life and all that stuff. Being pounded by waves is a pretty accurate metaphor for falling love, too.

“Whenever you are really attracted to somebody, you don’t notice things about that other person. Your friends go, ‘Haven’t you noticed that … ?’ But you don’t, ’cause you’re falling in love. You’re caught in the wave. You’ve been turned upside down like you’re in a big washing machine, and maybe you’re under too long and you feel like you’re drowning, but you come out the other side, or else you get slammed into the shore and get sand shoved up your nose.

“Then again,” Cole adds, bursting into laughter, “judging from my personal life, maybe I’m ready to come up with another metaphor.”


Michael Amsler

Unusual tastes: The darker side of erotic fantasy is the focus of the Seductions story written by Petaluma author Nancy Sasha Long.

NANCY SASHA Long, of Petaluma, tells a different story. “I heard about Lonnie’s ‘call for entries’ from a friend in a writing class in Marin,” she explains, her animated face demonstrating a bit of the nervous anticipation with which she greeted the notion of writing erotica. “I felt very green, but I thought I ought to give it a shot.”

The class Long refers to is a 6-year-old experimental writing workshop, with a core group of eight writer- performers who make up a unique troupe called Writers on the Edge.

“We write our lives, and then we perform our own lives onstage,” she says. “My colleagues encouraged me to send something in for consideration, so I went and looked at everything I’d written over the last several years. I ended up weaving together bits and pieces of several fictional short stories. There is some of me in it, some of my thoughts, but it took on a life of its own. And,” she continues with a laugh, “It turned out to be a much longer process than I’d imagined.”

Long’s story, “A Life of Seductions,” was accepted by Barbach, who suggested a few changes.

“I ended up rewriting it four times over the next 18 months. And I’m quite pleased with it,” she says, laughing again. “For my first attempt it’s not bad at all.”

The story–about an unhappy woman whose richly sexual fantasy life begins to mesh with reality in surprising, increasingly disturbing ways–is certainly among the darker tales in the book.

“There are some very dark images in there,” Long agrees. “Darkness is an important part of sexuality. Even though we’re supposedly in a time where women are free to explore their sexuality, to be sexually healthy and express themselves joyfully, there is still a little bit of darkness in our culture that nobody wants to talk about. Maybe it’s in the psyche of women, some women anyway, to desire some of that darkness and that danger.

“In my story, the main character is confused. She’s not all there. She doesn’t feel good about herself. She’s not healthy. And her sexual fantasies, because she doesn’t know anything different, are dark fantasies. I wanted to explore that darkness a bit, and to look at someone who feels powerless, who allows a seduction to take place because she’s desperate for a sense of power, desperate to make a choice all on her own, to reclaim herself, in this one strange, small way.

“And now that I’ve got that out of my system,” Long adds, laughing once more, “I think I’m ready to write something lighter.” Asked whether she’s interested in writing more erotica, she nods vigorously. “More erotica, certainly, but something playful now, something that explores a more romantic view of lovemaking, maybe even a sense of erotic spirituality.

“It’s hard to tell from ‘A Life of Seductions,’ ” she adds, “but I do realize that sex isn’t all danger and darkness. There’s a lot of joy and playfulness and laughter in sex, too. Now let’s see what I can do with that.”

From the April 8-14, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Kosovo

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Bombing the Baby with the Bathwater

The air strikes against Yugoslavia were supposed to stop the Milosevic war machine. The ultimate goal is ostensibly to support the people of Kosovo, as well as those of Serbia, who are equally victims of the Milosevic regime.

In fact the bombing has jeopardized the lives of 10.5 million people and unleashed an attack on the fledgling forces of democracy in Kosovo and Serbia. It has undermined the work of reformists in Montenegro and the Serbian entity of Bosnia-Herzegovina and their efforts to promote peace.

The bombing of Yugoslavia demonstrates the political impotence of US President Bill Clinton and the Western alliance in averting a human catastrophe in Kosovo. The protection of a population under threat is a noble duty, but it requires a clear strategy and a coherent end game. As the situation unfolds on the ground and in the air day by day, it is becoming more apparent that there is no such strategy. Instead, NATO is fulfilling the prophecy of its own doomsaying: each missile that hits the ground exacerbates the humanitarian disaster that NATO is supposed to be preventing.

It’s not easy to stop the war machine once its power has been unleashed. But I urge the members of NATO to pause for a moment and consider the consequences of what they are doing. Analysts are already asking whether the air strikes are still really about saving Kosovo Albanians. Just how far are NATO members prepared to go? What comes next after the “military” targets? What happens if the war spreads? All of these terrifying questions must be answered, although I suspect that few will want to live with the historical burden of having answered them.

The same questions crowded my mind as I sat in a Belgrade prison on the first day of the NATO attack on my country. Whiling away the hours in the cell I shared with a murder suspect, I asked myself what the West’s aim was for “the morning after.” The image of NATO taking its finger off the trigger kept coming to mind. I’ve seen no indication so far that there is a clear plan to follow up the Western military resolve.

My friends in the West keep asking me why there is no rebellion. Where are the people who poured onto the streets every day for three months in 1996 to demand democracy and human rights? Zoran Zivkovic, the opposition mayor of the city of Nis answered that last week: “Twenty minutes ago my city was bombed. The people who live here are the same people who voted for democracy in 1996, the same people who protested for a hundred days after the authorities tried to deny them their victory in the elections. They voted for the same democracy that exists in Europe and the US. Today my city was bombed by the democratic states of the USA, Britain, France, Germany and Canada! Is there any sense in this?”

Most of these people feel betrayed by the countries that were their models. Only yesterday a missile landed in the yard of our correspondent in Sombor. It didn’t explode, fortunately, but many others have in many other people’s yards. These people are now compelled to take up arms and join their sons who are already serving in the army. With the bombs falling all around them nobody can persuade them – though some have tried – that this is only an attack on their government and not their country.

It may seem cynical that I am writing this from the security of my office in Belgrade – secure, that is, compared to Pristina, Djakovica, Podujevo and other places in Kosovo. But I can’t help asking one question: How can F16s stop people in the street killing one another? Only days before the NATO aggression began, Secretary-General Solana suggested establishing a “Partnership for Democracy” in Serbia and the other countries of the former Yugoslavia to promote stability throughout the region.

Then, in a rapid U-turn, he gave the order to attack Yugoslavia.

With these attacks, it seems to me, the West has washed its hands of the people–Albanians, Serbs and others–living in the region. Thus the sins of the government have been visited on the people. Is this just? There are many more factors in the choice of a nation’s government than merely the will of the voters on election day. If a stable, democratic rule is to be established, and the rise of populists, demagogues and other impostors avoided, the public must first of all be enlightened. In other words there must be free media.

NATO’s bombs have blasted the germinating seeds of democracy out of the soil of Kosovo, Serbia and Montenegro and ensured that they will not sprout again for a very long time. The pro-democratic forces in Republika Srpska, the Bosnian Serb entity, have been jeopardized and with them the Dayton Peace Accords. NATO’s intervention has also given the green light for a local war against Montenegro’s pro-democracy president, Milo Djukanovic.

The free media in Serbia has for years opposed nationalism, hatred and war. As a representative of those media, and as a man who has more than once faced the consequences of my political beliefs, I call on President Bill Clinton to put a stop to NATO’s attack on my country. I call on him to begin negotiations which aim at securing the right to a peaceful life and democracy for all the people in Yugoslavia, regardless of their ethnic background.

As a representative of the free media I know too well the need for people on all sides of the conflict to have information. Those inside the country need to be aware of international debate as well as what is happening throughout this country. The international public needs the truth about what is happening here. But in place of an unfettered flow of accurate information, all of us hear only war propaganda–Western rhetoric included. Of course truth is always the first casualty in wartime.

Here and now, journalists are also being murdered.

Radio B92 is continuing its work as much as the circumstances of war permit. It is continuing to broadcast news on the Internet at http://www.b92.net, via satellite and through a large number of radio stations around the world which continue to carry its programs out of solidarity.

Veran Matic is editor-in-chief of Belgrade’s banned Radio B92 and a leading peace activist. He has won many international awards for media and democracy, the latest being last year’s MTV Europe “Free Your Mind” award. Early this year he was named one of this year’s hundred Global Leaders for Tomorrow by the World Economic Forum.

Web extra to the April 8-14, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem

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War Stories

Sticking to it: Sonoma County Bach Choir director Bob Worth prepares his group of nearly 70 singers for the upcoming performance of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem, mounted in collaboration with the Santa Rosa Symphony and others.

A local cast of hundreds prepares for Britten’s pacifist opus ‘War Requiem’

By David Templeton

LET’S DO the ‘Agnus Dei’ again,” suggests Bob Worth, addressing an intensely focused chorus of nearly 70 voices. “But this time I want to hear fear, cold, hard fear, just below the surface of the words, just below the surface of your voices. This is war. This is the coming of judgment, and we are all guilty. This is scary stuff.”

Worth demonstrates in his own voice. The chorus–a combined multigenerational force comprised of the award-winning Sonoma County Bach Choir, which Worth directs, and the Santa Rosa High School chorus, under the direction of Dan Earl–attentively listens, watching and nodding.

For months this mixed group of performers has been learning the intricate music of British composer Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem, a legendary and infamously difficult work that merges the traditional requiem mass with the stunning World War I poetry of Wilfred Owens. Composed in 1962, the War Requiem was commissioned for the opening of the newly rebuilt Coventry Cathedral, severely damaged by falling bombs in World War II. (Britten fought to maintain conscientious-objector status during that conflict.)

When the piece is performed in Santa Rosa in mid-April, the chorus will join a company that includes the Santa Rosa Symphony, the Santa Rosa children’s chorus, and a trio of renowned soloists: baritone Thomas Quasthoff, tenor Richard Clement, and soprano Janice Chandler. Under the baton of conductor Jeffrey Kahane, the complete ensemble will number over 250.

“The Agnus Dei is pivotal,” Worth says. “The whole message of the War Requiem is bundled up right here in this one passage. Also, I want everyone on the edge of your seats, literally.” He bounds up the steps, and sits down, showing them how to pivot at the boundary of their chairs. “I guarantee it, if you’re on the edge of your seats, the audience will be on the edge of theirs. Now let’s hear that fear.”

He raises his baton. At his signal, the chorus repeats the all-important passage. “Agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem.” Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, grant them rest. This time, the fear is audible. A tense, shivering dread, a sense of hushed white-knuckled terror that sends a chill shiver right up the spine, forms an ironic counterpoint to the fervent hopefulness of the ancient Latin words.

“Pretty darn good,” crows Worth. “Pretty darn good.” Then he has the singers do it again. And again.

“There’s going to be a big honking orchestra in front of us during the live performances,” he reminds them. “We’ll have to sing very clearly and powerfully to keep from being swallowed up.” Later in the evening’s rehearsal–after practicing another passage, this one even more technically difficult–someone on the risers gasps, “It’s so hard!”

Worth grins. “Of course it’s hard. The War Requiem has some of the hardest passages I’ve ever done in my life. That’s what performing the requiem is all about.

“Just wait till next week,” he adds. “When all the singers and musicians are in one place next week, and we do this thing all together, when you feel the audience responding to the music, you’ll know exactly why we’ve been working so hard for so long. Believe me, it will be worth it.”

FOR ANY ORCHESTRA this is a massive project,” says Jeffrey Kahane. “For an orchestra like the Santa Rosa orchestra, well, there are people who thought I was crazy to even attempt it, just because of the sheer scope of the work.”

Kahane, who has played piano in past productions of the War Requiem, will be conducting Britten’s masterpiece work for the very first time.

“Britten was one of our greatest composers,” Kahane says, “but he was also a man of the theater. His greatest music involves words and music that have a tremendous visceral visual impact. This is a piece that is conceived very much in terms of its physical space. Wait till you see the whole thing assembled onstage. Oh my God! It’s quite an astounding thing to witness.”

The logistics would terrify anyone. In addition to the complexity of the frequently thrilling, often onomatopoetic, score, Britten provided detailed instructions for how the performers were to be arranged. There is a specific symbolism at work in all of the composer’s demands. The children’s chorus, which must sing from a separate portion of the room than the orchestra and main chorus, stands as a symbol of innocence and purity.

“That,” Kahane explains, “and to be a reminder that these children are the next generation that might be sent out to fight and die. While the War Requiem is really about young men fighting and dying, the children are there as a reminder that the children of every generation are potentially victims of war, not only as soldiers-to-be, but also as innocent victims.”

The male soloists, representing the soldiers, one British, one German, sing the poetry of Wilfred Owen, separately and together, but always with the chamber orchestra, 12 musicians intentionally placed apart from the main orchestra.

“The male soloists personalize the piece,” Kahane says. “They make very intimate and direct the experience of the soldier on the battlefield.”

The chorus, which sings the requiem mass in Latin, is joined by a female soprano soloist, who, according to Kahane, represents the angels and divine nature. This juxtaposition of the ancient and imposing words of the mass with Owen’s vivid poetry, literally written on the battlefield during World War I, conveys a provocative sense of irony as the comforting simplicity of the mass is repeatedly answered by the dying soldiers’ cries of anguish and bewilderment.

For Kahane, Worth, and the entire company, Britten’s intentional ironies have been compounded by current events. It is ironic, certainly, to be singing the words of Owens–who died on the battlefield in “the war to end all wars”–as, simultaneously, atrocities are being committed and bombs are being dropped on the other side of the planet.

“We’ve been thinking about Kosovo a lot over the last few weeks,” Kahane admits. “Whatever each person’s specific belief about what NATO is doing, we all agree it’s a horrifying spectacle.”

Kahane, whose family fled Europe as refugees during World War II, first conceived of doing the War Requiem three years ago, when the war in Bosnia was raging.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking about the First World War,” he says. “It’s become clear to me that if there is any hope of our preventing such things from happening again in the future, we absolutely have to understand what led to them happening in the first place.”

Kahane believes that the War Requiem is an especially powerful bridge to understanding war.

“I think the War Requiem does two things,” he says. “It allows for a very deeply personal experience of the emotions that are associated with war–the fear, the grief, the horror, the shock, the bitterness, the pain–all those things. And it also provides an incredible catharsis. Owens’ poem, the final poem, when the two soldiers meet after death and one says to the other, ‘I am the enemy you killed, my friend,’ and then, ‘Let us sleep now,’ that is the moment when all of the forces join together–the children, the small orchestra, the large orchestra, the soloists, and the chorus–and then there’s this final prayer, which I believe is one of the most cathartic moments in all of music. ‘Requiescant in pace. Amen.’ “

May they rest in peace. Amen.

“Something I told the chorus,” Kahane concludes, “[is that] many of them, and certainly the orchestra and especially the audience, will not even realize the impact or the significance until the end of the performance–and after. That’s what this remarkable piece does.”

The War Requiem will be performed April 14 and 15 at 8 p.m. at the LBC, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa. $17-$35. For details, call 546-8742.

From the April 8-14, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Rafael Theater

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Arts, Etc.

Rafael Theater Reopens

STEPPING THROUGH the glass doors and into the lobby of the newly renovated Rafael Theater is a shocking experience. The surprise is not that the historic building, which has survived fire and neglect in its 80-year history, has been lovingly restored to its 1930s art deco good looks, from the fanciful murals to the chandeliers to the sweeping staircase. The real revelation is that the opulent setting and state-of-the-art technology of the three-screen theater in downtown San Rafael will be used to showcase independent films.

That’s something North Bay film fans have been looking forward to since 1995, when the Film Institute of Northern California, which runs the internationally famous Mill Valley Film Festival, purchased the building from the city of San Rafael.

“In the past, independent films have often been relegated to lesser theaters,” says Mark Fishkin, the Film Institute’s executive director. “The mandate was always to just make do and compromise. But now we have a facility that does them justice.”

The building, located at 1118 Fourth St., was built in 1918 as a first-run movie theater. It was closed by fire in 1937, reopened the next year, and then closed again in 1989. Renovating the historic building cost approximately $6.8 million and involved, among other things, employing San Francisco artist Jeffrey Yunt to restore the art deco murals.

Fishkin says programming at the restored Rafael will include independent U.S. and foreign films, retrospectives, documentaries and shorts, and film-related educational seminars. The theater will be used as an additional venue for the Mill Valley Film Festival, which will still be held primarily in Mill Valley.

The Rafael reopens with a series of events on April 16-18 that includes the world premiere of Alexander Payne’s Election. For details, see Films in the calendar or call 415/383-5256.

From the April 8-14, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Michael Moore

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Down the Tube

The Awful Truth, speaks volumes.

Michael Moore’s ‘The Awful Truth’ hits the airwaves with predictable fare

By Patrick Sullivan

ONCE UPON A TIME, not so very long ago, a fellow named William Greider wrote a ferocious little book called Who Will Tell the People: The Betrayal of American Democracy. Greider’s thesis was simple: Big corporations exercise growing control over the nation’s media, government, and major political parties, leaving our vaunted democratic system well on the way to being deader than the proverbial doornail.

Then Greider got really nasty. Partly to blame for this state of affairs, he argued, were apparently populist organizations such as unions and activist groups, which are increasingly obsessed with stunts, symbolic protests, and media coverage instead of thoughtful strategy and real organizing.

If Greider’s book opened the ’90s with a bang, then Michael Moore’s new half-hour satirical political television show, The Awful Truth, which premieres April 11 at 6 p.m. on the Bravo Network, closes the decade down with a whimper.

Moore is someone you probably know pretty well by now. He began his unorthodox filmmaking career with the guerrilla documentary Roger & Me, the story of his relentless efforts to confront General Motors chairman Roger Smith with the grim fact that GM’s plant closures had wreaked social devastation on Moore’s hometown of Flint, Mich. The extremely successful film (it was the highest grossing non-concert documentary ever) led to a Moore’s first television show, TV Nation, a short-lived satirical series that turned comic stunts and symbolic confrontations with corporate evildoers into a weekly boob-tube event, first on NBC, then on FOX.

Now Moore is back with more of the same in The Awful Truth. In episode one, Moore leads a gaggle of folks dressed as 17th-century Puritans to Ken Starr’s house to–you guessed it–show the prosecutor a more affordable way to conduct a witch-hunt. Then the Puritans descend in full costume on the halls of Congress, confronting everyone from Henry Hyde to James Carville.

Neither the astonished politicos nor the many civilian bystanders caught on camera know quite what to make of this costume drama, and really, neither do we. There are undeniably funny moments, such as Moore’s close encounter with a sputtering Bob Barr, but ultimately, Moore has nothing to say about Starr and his dubious investigation that hasn’t already been said a million times by Democratic Party spinmeisters. We’re left feeling that the Starr circus is already so bizarre and absurd that Moore’s none-too-subtle efforts at satire pale by comparison.

The second half of the premiere episode is something of an improvement, in part because this time Moore turns his camera on something the media haven’t already talked to death. He focuses on Chris Donahue, a man who has made seven years of health-care payments to the Humana HMO only to be denied a life-saving pancreas operation. The Awful Truth swings into action, planning a funeral for Chris to which Humana’s CEO is invited. The ensuing confrontation between Moore and Donahue (who could, apparently, literally die at any moment) and a Humana PR flack crackles with compelling outrage.

But the conclusion highlights the show’s biggest weakness–Moore himself. Humana relents and Donahue’s life is saved, which is wonderful, but not a word is said about a permanent solution to HMO woes. The unspoken thesis seems to be that these sorts of problems would be licked if only there were only a few more versions of Michael Moore and his camera crew about. And Moore seems to take a little too much pleasure in getting the credit for this rescue operation from a wildly applauding studio audience.

Indeed, throughout the show Moore often exhibits a smug self-righteousness that makes him nearly as unlikable as Kenn Starr or James Carville. The biggest danger for The Awful Truth is that the show will be more about its host than about the people he is trying to help. Maybe William Greider is wrong about stunt activism. Maybe populist television will help save American democracy. Or maybe it will just provide another career boost for left-wing entrepreneurs such as Moore.

Of course, that won’t exactly fit his image as, in the words of Bravo publicists, a “folk hero for the American people.” Those are pretty big shoes to fill, and Moore’s show has a long way to go before it, or he, can walk comfortably in them.

From the April 8-14, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

The Onion

100-Year Itch

By Tom Sullivan



IN THE NOVEL Ordinary Jack, by Helen Cresswell, a young girl named Daisy Parker wreaks havoc through her hobby of “reconciling the seemingly disparate.” History doesn’t record what eventually happens to the child, but with that hobby it’s not impossible that she’s currently working on the staff of The Onion. If so, she was almost certainly heavily involved in the group’s first book, Our Dumb Century (Three Rivers Press; $15).

A satirical weekly newspaper published out of Madison, Wisc., The Onion is not widely distributed in print outside its hometown. But it is available online and reaches an estimated half-million readers a week. The paper’s headlines alone make for enjoyable reading (for instance, “Bantu Tribesman Uses IBM Modem to Crush a Nut” and “Lewinsky Subpoenaed to Re-blow Clinton on Senate Floor: ‘We Must Know Exactly What Happened,’ Say Legislators”).

But as with another notable American publication, most people read The Onion for the articles. The real strengths of the paper are its absurdist sense of humor, its skepticism of official sources and cultural trends, and the discipline and skill with which staff members follow the form and language of newspaper articles. All of these are carried over into Our Dumb Century, which is a collection of Onion front pages from the last 100 years.

The book is divided into five sections: “1900-1929: A Nation Turns Its Crank,” “1929-1946: Dust, Despair and Death: Those Were the Days,” “1946-1963: The Swell Years,” “1963-1981: Peace, Love and Other Bullshit,” and “1981-2000: A Nation Finds Its Remote.” Included are two front pages from most years of the century. Each features articles, slogans, and teasers for tragically unavailable stories inside the paper (from 1932: “Inside: Hoover’s ‘Are You Better Off Now Than You Were Four Years Ago?’ Campaign Fails to Gain Momentum”).

All five are enjoyable and insightful, but the first two sections are the strongest, benefiting from historical hindsight and the mythic qualities of events such as the Depression. The book gets especially fantastic mileage out of the world wars and the race hatred and waste of life that accompanied them, with articles such as “600,000 Killed in 4-Inch Advance on Western Front”; or, from 1918, “Corpse-Eating Rats Now Largest Military Force in Europe.”

In later sections, the book takes careful aim at the Red Scare, with such articles as “New Medical Report Finds Heavy Petting Linked to Communism.” Like the paper itself, these sections pay more attention to social and cultural issues. Articles such as “Disco Diva Gloria Gaynor Survives Andes Plane Crash by Eating Rugby Players” and “Art Critics Call Campbell’s New Tomato Soup ‘Brilliant’: Soup Maker Hailed for Pop Art Commentary on Rampant Commercialism in American Culture” are particularly inspired.

The Onion, as loyal readers know, is the product and property of 131-year-old plutocrat T. Herman Zweibel, and his hand is apparent in the earlier sections of the book, up until his court-ordered retirement in 1958. He contributes a variety of offerings, including an introduction, special coded messages to kids (“You miserable little wretches”), and a selection of trenchant opinion pieces (including, from the Prohibition era, his piece titled “I Can Get All the Booze I Want”). Other recurring themes include a series of cartoons showing Lady Liberty being raped by an evolving pantheon of U.S. enemies, including the Spanish, the Huns, the Japanese, and the hippies, and a series of articles on “the trial of the century,” each using the same law expert and the same text to declare that “never before–and likely never again–has so much public attention been generated by a single court trial in America.”

Especially cynical longtime readers of The Onion have been known to exult over particularly absurd or appalling events, reasoning that, whatever else they may mean, they will provide the paper’s writers with a broad and deserving target to savage with a sniper’s brutal efficiency. From this point of view, if no other, we’re fortunate to have experienced this dumb century.

From the April 8-14, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

The Scoop

Pot Shot

By Bob Harris

NEVER MIND what his own study says, Drug Czar Barry McCaffrey insists that medical marijuana is gonna stay illegal–because it impairs memory, interferes with motor skills, and it impairs memory.

As you already know, voters in seven states have approved the use of marijuana strictly for medical purposes. However, the will of the people notwithstanding, the federal government still thinks letting cancer patients in chemotherapy relieve their pain this way is a crime worthy of imprisonment. Gee, thank God somebody’s trying get these troublemakers off the streets.

Let’s not confuse medical use of marijuana with recreational toking. Casual marijuana abuse can cause serious problems for some people. But that’s not the subject here.

Here’s the thing: An independent report commissioned by McCaffrey’s own Office of National Drug Control Policy has strongly recommended legalization for medical reasons only. McCaffrey’s own investigators say that (a) marijuana’s not particularly addictive; (b) it’s not a gateway to harder drugs; (c) medical use wouldn’t increase casual abuse; and (d) for people in grave condition and real pain, like AIDS patients suffering from wasting syndrome, the medical benefits far outweigh the risks, which are fewer than you get even with many well-known prescription drugs.

Never mind all that. Never mind the insanity of outlawing a substance tried by roughly one quarter of the U.S. population. Never mind the ongoing ludicrous failure of drug prohibition. And never mind the obvious historical example of alcohol prohibition.

The drug czar still insists that anyone putting into practice his own office’s findings will still be subject to arrest.But suppose for a second the study had determined that marijuana was a major public health menace. Do you imagine Gen. McCaffrey would discard it so easily, or would he be waving it proudly as further rationalization for the militarization of drug enforcement?

Dude, why spend our tax dollars on a study if you’re just going to ignore it if it doesn’t find what you want?

I guess because except for cigarettes, alcohol, caffeine, and prescription narcotics, drugs are destroying America.

And they impair memory.

YOU WANNA find out the real media bias in this country? Set something on fire. Let’s digress. If you listen to talk radio, a lot of formerly gelatinous but now merely overweight radio hosts honestly think there’s a pervasive lefty bias to the commercial media. As if the most prominent employees of people like General Electric and Microsoft are secretly reading Mao in their spare time.

Excuse me? Use your eyes and ears. When CNN stands for the Chomsky News Network and competes with EF! The Earth First Channel for ad revenue from Tom’s of Maine, we can resume this discussion. Yet not only are most pundits avowedly conservative, but even reactionary radicals like Ollie North and G. Gordon Liddy, whose open contempt for the law is precisely what made them famous, routinely host national radio and TV talk shows.

Truth is, the real bias of commercial media is: they’re commercial media. Giant media corporations make their money by selling ads to other giant corporations, and any long-term systemic bias exists because it serves that bottom line. Period.

That’s why so many TV shows contain nothing but sex, violence, violent sex, and occasional footage of pit bulls attacking fat people.

A couple of weeks ago, there was a fire in a strip mall in the suburbs near my home in Los Angeles. And the Fox affiliate’s 6 a.m. news show consisted solely of a helicopter shot of the burning building. For an entire hour. Like nothing else mattered in the world. Apparently Beavis is now Channel 11’s news director. “Fire! Huh huh, cool! Huh huh, fire is cool, huh huh …

After which Jillian, the weather chick, caressed the nation’s midsection while wearing a really tight shirt. Then they went back to the fire.

Half these people probably think Edward R. Murrow is that actor who played Jaime Escalante in Stand and Deliver.

So if you’re an activist, next time you want your message to get TV coverage, don’t waste your time coming up with fact sheets and compelling true stories. No one cares anymore. Really. Just hire some fat people to have sex in the street. You’ll have Fox and CNN on the scene in 20 minutes.

Just make sure to give the fat people full-body tattoos with your group’s slogan. It’s the only way to be sure what you have to say will make it into the final story.

From the April 1-7, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

0

New Again

Music reissued, recycled, and reinvented

By Greg Cahill

Lester Bowie Brass Fantasy The Odyssey of Funk & Popular Music Atlantic

For more than 30 years, as a member of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, trumpeter Lester Bowie has helped define avant-jazz in the late 20th century. By fusing elements as diverse as free jazz and New Orleans second-line struts, Bowie and his posse have liberated the genre from the confines of groundless abstraction. As a solo artist, Bowie has fearlessly reinterpreted some of America’s best-known pop songs–his rendition of the Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes for You” is a breathtaking deconstruction of that doo-wop chestnut. Unfortunately, Bowie also sometimes masks a lack of musicality under theatrical arrangements that court self-parody. This time out, his 11-piece Brass Fantasy gets mixed results reshaping an odd batch of old and new standards. The more conventional fare–“Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” and Cole Porter’s “In the Still of the Night”–fall short of Bowie’s previous outings, though they boast some fine trumpet and trombone solos. And his take on the Philly soul hit “If You Don’t Know Me by Now” is somewhat tepid. But Bowie transforms the Spice Girls’ “Two Become One” into a lush after-hours ballad. And shock rocker Marilyn Manson’s “Beautiful People” gets a complete makeover as a rollicking brass-heavy romp that alone is worth the price of admission. Not Bowie’s best, but there are plenty of interesting side trips to recommend this disc.

Dave Van Ronk Sunday Street Philo

Forget all those tea-sipping neo-folkies. Dave Van Ronk–whose bawdy, gruff vocals, tender sentiments, and heavenly finger-picking made him one of the finest song interpreters to emerge from the ’60s folk-blues revival–created this newly reissued masterpiece in 1974. Part devil. Part Angel. He’s the perfect antidote to all that cute, cuddly Joni Mitchell-wannabe shlock beamed ceaselessly over NPR. Catch him April 21 at the Blue Heron in Duncans Mills.

Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown Blackjack Sugar Hill

This Texas bluesman–who released a great swing album two years ago–is one of those round-peg-in-a-square-hole types: a black cowboy equally adept at guitar and fiddle, and equally comfortable playing blues, jazz, and country. This 1977 reissue, first released on the obscure Real Records label, is the quintessential Gatemouth Brown CD–a little bit country, a little bit jazzy, a whole lot bluesy, and filled with drop-dead virtuoso guitar, fiddle, and harmonica. Don’t fence him in.

The Mahavishnu Orchestra with John McLaughlin The Inner Mounting Flame Columbia/Mobile Fidelity

This seminal ’70s jazz fusion recording blazed a path for Carlos Santana, Return to Forever, and a host of other astral travelers. McLaughlin, who seldom (if ever) performs this material these days (splitting his time between classical guitar and traditional jazz), scratched out some damned coarse, and funky, licks as he traded riffs with electric violinist Jerry Goodman, drummer Billy Cobham, and synthesist Jan Hammer. It’s remarkable how fresh this sounds today, though that should come as no surprise given the bland nature of so-called contemporary jazz on the airwaves. The drum and bass tracks seem to suffer from the distortion inherent in the technology of the times, but otherwise Sebastopol-based Mobile Fidelity should be commended for bringing this one back.

Sandy Bull Re-inventions Vanguard

Here’s the ’60s folk guitar master replete with spontaneous instrumental guitar improvisations, oud doodles, bossa nova blues, and classical five-string banjo impressions–including his patented “Carmina Burana Fantasy”–all gloriously restored, remastered, and reissued on this new anthology. Did someone say eclectic?

Pick of the Week

John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman MCA/Impulse!/Mobile Fidelity

This self-titled audiophile disc spotlights the classic 1963 pairing of tenor saxman John Coltrane and jazz vocalist Johnny Hartman–backed by pianist McCoy Tyner, bassist Jimmy Garrison, and drummer Elvin Jones–in a gorgeous session that showcases two of the greatest interpreters of ballads, including the anthem of the Cocktail Nation, Billy Strayhorn’s “Lush Life.” It’s 4 a.m. forever. Essential stuff for any jazz buff.

From the April 1-7, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Wine Grape Shortage

0

Last Drop

By Bob Johnson

IF PAULA COLE lived in Sonoma County, rather than singing about cowboys, her lyrical lament might well be: “Where have all the wine grapes gone?” Even though the 1998 harvest was the second largest on record in the Sonoma/Marin region, according to a preliminary report issued by the California Department of Food and Agriculture, there is a critical shortage of quality wine grapes in the county.

One consequence of the shortage is likely to hit consumers where it hurts the most: in their wallets.

Some 132,715 tons of grapes were harvested in Sonoma County last fall. That’s about 5,000 more tons than the 1996 crush produced, but well under 1997’s record 187,725-ton yield. And with most 1997 white wines now on the market and selling briskly, wineries, distributors, and retailers are bracing for an extremely tight market once the more limited 1998 wines have evolved sufficiently to bottle and release.

“We’re experiencing a 30 percent growth trend over last year,” says George Rose, public relations director for Clos du Bois Winery. “We’re convinced that consumers are now recognizing the connection [between] Sonoma County-appellation wines and quality.”

What has spawned the upsurge of interest in local wines? Rick Theis, until recently the executive director of the Sonoma County Grape Growers Association, says the region’s reputation has been slowly building over the past decade and a half.

“Fifteen years ago, people wouldn’t have thought about looking for a Sonoma County wine first,” Theis says. “But by educating the public about how the county produces more award-winning wines than any other region in California each year, our reputation has spread.”

Toss in marketing efforts by the county’s association of wineries, along with national radio and TV campaigns by Clos du Bois and Gallo that put the Sonoma County image in the spotlight, and a case could be made that local wines now enjoy star status similar to that of their liquid cousins from Napa Valley.

Besides consumer demand, another factor is fueling the county’s grape shortage: big business. “A few very large wineries are buying as much fruit as possible, leaving everyone else to fight for what they can get,” observes Rod Berglund, winemaker for Joseph Swan Vineyards.

“The demand seems to be pretty much across the board,” Berglund adds. “Russian River Valley and coastal pinot noir is virtually unavailable on the open market at any price. Ditto for zinfandel–any appellation, and especially old vine. Petite sirah and other once-common varietals are almost gone and in great demand. Chardonnay continues to be strong. And newer varietals–such as syrah, pinot gris, and viognier–are already at ridiculous [high price] levels.”

Adds Berglund: “In some cases we may be near the [pricing] limit, but in the case of Russian River pinot, for instance, it seems as if the bidding has only begun.”

Theis agrees. Although some mega-wineries may deplete supplies by purchasing a great deal of the available fruit, Theis says, it is the consumer who ultimately determines the price of a wine. “People desire things–be it wine or anything else–that are of extremely high quality and hard to get,” he says. “It’s just human nature, and it’s also the nature of the wine business. I’ve talked to retailers who say that consumer demand for Sonoma County pinot noir is such that wineries could charge whatever they want for it. Supply and demand is what sets the [price] bar, and as long as the economy stays strong, that bar is going to go higher.”

Adding to the demand for local grapes is the discovery by winemakers from outside the county’s borders that, as Berglund puts it, “a little bit of Sonoma County fruit can go a long way toward improving an otherwise insipid blend.”

OTHER FACTORS include grape growers who decide to become winemakers, thus cutting off or severely limiting supplies to long-established winery clients; the evolving palates of U.S. wine drinkers; and a surge in exports.

“American consumers are moving upscale to high-end varietal wines,” says industry analyst Jon Fredrikson. “They’re shifting their preferences away from many white and blush jug wines, [the sales of which] declined in food stores last year.”

As for worldwide demand for U.S. wines, preliminary numbers from the Department of Commerce put the value of American vino exports–90 percent of which come from California–in 1998 at $537 million, a 26 percent increase over 1997. And a growing percentage of California exports hail from Sonoma County.

What is it that makes these homegrown grapes and wines so sought-after?

Berglund explains it this way: “Grapes from Sonoma County have an uncommon depth of flavor, excellent natural balance, and tremendous diversity, while still retaining a sense of place. There is, in this county, some place that will grow virtually every varietal, and it can be as good as almost anywhere else it is grown, at least in the New World.”

Theis concurs. “In many ways, we’ve become the victims of our own success,” he says of the county’s premium-wine grape shortage.

From the April 1-7, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

The Birthday Party

Party Time

The Birthday Party.

‘Birthday Party’ features eerie presence

By Daedalus Howell

ONCE EMBEDDED in the paws of pedestrian theater pundits, Harold Pinter’s splinters persist on the floorboards of Sonoma County Rep in Sebastopol in its splendid production of his “comedy of menace,” The Birthday Party.

Originally staged in 1958, the play was panned by critics but survived to herald a new era in theater and a 40-year career for its author. It’s not populist theater by any means, and SCR should be lauded for encouraging this much-needed stretch for Sonoma County audiences. If Pinter chucked a monkey wrench into the mundane, director Scott Philips gives it real torque. His production is a taut, lean triumph for local stages.

Welcome to Meg and Petey’s south of England boarding house. The dreary, lower-middle-class interiors are juxtaposed to genial hostess Meg’s (Peggy Van Patten) obsession with pleasing her guest, the nebbishy, bespectacled Stan (Cameron McVeigh), whose impending birthday party proves an occasion for disaster.

The guest list includes Lulu (Kori Krehbiel), a dangerously flirty neighbor, as well as the mysterious Goldberg (Eric Thompson) and McCann (Allan Armstrong), who breeze into town on some undisclosed but dubious business with the hapless Stan. This unlikely bunch leads the play to a second-act crescendo of such psychological weirdness that Freud himself would have to lie down on the couch and suck dumbly on his cigar.

McVeigh’s uncanny ability to portray Stan’s emotional poverty while keeping a tenuous hold on his identity is this production’s finest asset. By turns wearied and worried, Stan is on the brink–a condemned man who, without pretense or moralizing, is unable to fully resign himself to his fate with Goldberg and McCann, whatever that may be. This indomitable flicker of humanity, perhaps more an innate survival mechanism than lofty heroism, is brilliantly presented by the actor. Despite himself, Stan resists succumbing, and when he finally does, it is with complete erasure of the self. McVeigh conveys the existential gravity of his character’s fate with only the slightest gesture. It’s his party and he’ll cry if he wants to, damn it.

Peggy Van Patten is also well cast as the intolerably chipper matron. Her zealous dispatching of breakfast cereal and maternal doting on surrogate son Stan proves a comic menace unto itself. Her naiveté is compounded by her cloying determination to make others happy, resulting in further upset and increased efforts to please. Meg’s husband, Petey (William Harrison), proves the perfect understated foil for the bombastic hostess.

Emissaries from Stan’s dark past, Goldberg and McCann are like bullying orderlies sans the white coats. In the actors’ hands, the gruesome twosome are a sort of revved-up Kray Brothers endowed with a flair for semantics. Thompson proves a particularly agile performer during the play’s signature interrogation sequence when his face literally changes color in synch with his various emotions.

Indeed, this truly eerie scene is a good example of what makes this production of The Birthday Party so special–a happy conflux of great material and estimable local talents. Party on.

The Birthday Party plays through April 17 at Sonoma County Rep, 104 N. Main St., Sebastopol. $12. 544-7278.

From the April 1-7, 1999 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

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