The Mother Hips

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Hip Shakin’

American Recordings


Mother Hips move on and up

By Doug Miller

FOR THE FIRST TIME in weeks, the Mother Hips have the night off. Tim Bluhm and Greg Loiacono– guitarists/vocalists/songwriters–kick it on a couch at Loiacono’s home in Marin County, plucking twangs on Epiphone acoustics and crooning hillbilly harmonies. Bassist Issac Parsons performs family-man duties in Sacramento with his wife and infant son. Drummer John Hofer, whom bandmates call “the disasta’ from Nebraska,” is with his wife in Oregon, probably watching videotapes of his beloved Cornhuskers football team.

Ah, the joys of relaxation.

Sandwiched between live performances up and down the coast, studio sessions in Los Angeles, countless episodes of pissing in bottles in the tour van, and painstaking rehearsals, there seems to be little time to rest in Hipsville. And, alas, time is running out. There’s a show next week that brings the popular band to the Phoenix Theatre in Petaluma.

Northern California’s hardest-working country-rock outlaws have seen their band weather plenty of changes in the last year, but members are happy to report they’re still pretty good at picking up the changes.

“We’re still kicking,” says Loiacono, “although we’ve taken our share of hits from the industry. It’s a good thing we get along so well.” The band’s three-record deal with American Recordings, struck in 1994 with label chief Rick Rubin, is now long gone, and, as a result, so is access to the major-league dollars that came with it. In January 1997, three months after the Hips released their third American CD, the critically acclaimed Shootout, the label dropped the band from its roster. Now all three CDs are out of print and the label is legal limbo.

The Mother Hips are rock ‘n’ roll free agents, looking for the security a major-label contract could provide while they’re no longer willing to sit around and wait for the big break. And proud of it. Sort of.

“Sure, we’d like to sell a million records,” says Loiacono, “but more important, right now, we’d like to give our fans new material to listen to,” he says, adding that “the only problem now is lack of tour support, but we’re doing it ourselves, which is the righteous way, I suppose.”

THE HIPS HAVE just completed recording an independent album, tentatively titled Later Days, and a new official website (www.motherhips.com) is under construction. As always, they are touring, bringing their unique blend of country-fried psychedelia, honky-tonk blues, urban stomp, grunge funk, and surfer pop to a rabid group of West Coast hipsters.

Musically, the band has changed quite a bit from their Cal State Chico dorm room origin in 1990. While their first two American-label efforts, Back to the Grotto (independently released in 1992, reissued by American in 1994) and 1995’s Part-Timer Goes Full aptly highlighted the chaotic, tempo change-laden Hips sound, they weren’t true albums, according to Bluhm.

“Those records were made without a big picture in mind,” he says. “We just figured we had all these songs and we might as well just put ’em on records.”

With 1996’s Shootout, however, the band thought “album” from the beginning. The result is an airtight, plaintive, carefully knitted quilt of Americana, perhaps one of the decade’s great unknown rock LPs.

“I don’t think too many people heard it, and it’s a shame, but we can’t worry about that anymore,” says Bluhm, adding that “the new record’s our best work to date. We’ve turned over soil and exposed fresh skin.”

According to Loiacono, whereas the older albums jumped from mood to mood, Later Days maintains variety while mining the same neo-country vein. “The songs are definitely becoming more alike,” he says, “but there’s variety, too. There are some upbeat jumpers on this one, and there’s also what could be described as stoner music.”

Hofer’s musical intuition, says Loiacono, was a key to the Hips’ latest studio conquest. “John started laying down drum tracks that seemed a lot faster in tempo than we’d previously tried,” he says. “We all found ourselves playing much faster than we were used to and it panicked us a bit. But then, when all of the music was laid down on top of the drums, it sounded much more alive and real. John’s the ‘magic boy.'”

Lyrically, the magic is still there, too.

Bluhm, who has said he used a connect-the-dot approach to songwriting, weaving non-sequitur, casual conversation, and color landscape observation into sometimes extended verse, flexes his writing muscle on the new album and stretches Later Days into new, more personal territory. The band-penned “You Can’t Win” says it all: You can’t win, but you can feel good trying’.

The Mother Hips are still feeling good trying.

And, for them, that’s winning.

The Mother Hips perform on Saturday, March 14, at the Phoenix Theatre, 201 Washington St., Petaluma. Amoonra open. 9 p.m. Admission is $10-$12.762-3566 or 762-3565.

From the March 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Moira Johnston

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Mind Matters

Michael Amsler


Journalist Moira Johnston turns activist while covering Napa’s memory trials

By David Templeton

FOLLOWING those first eight weeks sitting in a courtroom in downtown Napa, writer Moira Johnston thought that her newest book was finally finished. She’d spent years on it already–months of meticulous research, soaking up every detail as Napa wine seller Gary Ramona sued his daughter Holly’s therapists for malpractice, and Holly staunchly defended the horrifying accusations that started it all. While undergoing therapy for serious eating disorders, Holly had come to believe that her therapists had uncovered traumatic “repressed memories” of being raped by her father from the time she was 5. Ramona, insisting he was innocent, had accused the therapists of implanting those memories in his daughter’s fragile mind.

It was a hell of a story, but the “memory trial,” as it came to be known nationwide, was only the beginning of an even bigger story–covering everything from eating disorders in America to the nature of truth itself–and Johnston had become determined to tell it well.

A meticulous and accomplished journalist with several books to her credit, Johnston managed to maintain a professional objectivity right up to the moment that the jury delivered its guilty verdict, slapping the therapists with a $500,000 judgment. By that point, supported by hours of research into the science of memory, Johnston had herself arrived at the same conclusion as the jury: that recovered memories of abuse are so unreliable and easily contaminated as to make them all but useless, either as a therapeutic tool or as evidence during litigation. As the legal and therapeutic professions reeled from the verdict, Johnston began to write.

“Then, thinking I was done, I went on a trip to Massachusetts,” she recalls, “and ended up making a pilgrimage to Salem. I found the memorial park there, honoring the innocent people who’d been killed during the witch trials of 1692. It’s a bleak place, walled in granite. The victim’s last words are carved onto stones under your feet, words like ‘God knows I am innocent!’ Until the courts put a stop to it, all the victims were convicted, on the basis of what was called ‘spectral evidence,’ visions of the devil or of evil spirits that were claimed to have been sensed by hysterical young women.

“I knew, standing there, that I would have to go back and rewrite the beginning of my book,” she continues. “I knew that the story of Gary and Holly Ramona had to begin in Salem, Massachusetts.”

Johnston’s rewrite became Spectral Evidence: The Ramona Case–Incest, Memory and Truth on Trial in Napa Valley (Houghton Mifflin; $25), released last November to a noisy round of debate. Immediately hailed as “the most powerful and influential book of the ‘recovered memory wars,'” by author Frederick Crews–who himself co-authored the earlier book The Memory Wars–and by members of the growing False Memory Syndrome Foundation, Johnston’s work was likewise criticized by proponents of the recovered-memory movement for not coming down, in the end, on the side of the repressed memory.

Even so, Johnston takes great pains in the book to avoid painting Gary Ramona as a martyr; his own culpability is demonstrated by his virtual absence as a father and by his failure to recognize and seek help for his obviously troubled daughter.

JOHNSTON, a Canadian native and longtime Napa resident, admits that she is warming to her position at the center of so vital a controversy. As such, she will be delivering a talk this week, titled “Memory & Creativity: A Writer’s Search for the ‘True’ Story,” as part of the arts and culture lecture series sponsored by the Arts Council of Napa.

“Here was the biggest mental-health controversy of the century,” she says enthusiastically, sipping a cup of coffee in the Independent’s lunchroom, “a controversy that was tearing psychology apart, tearing families apart, tearing the legal system apart, and yet here it was focused on a 100-year-old courthouse in downtown Napa, five minutes from my house.”

A POLISHED, articulate conversationalist with a warm smile, Johnston insists that her conclusions were not reached hastily, and, contrary to those who say her book is unsympathetic to the cause of abused women, were informed as much by her compassion for the abused as for those falsely accused.

“All of us are more than willing to embrace the concept of forgetting and remembering,” she says. “We want to put all of our resources into identifying the genuinely abused, so that they can be cared for. But for the Holly Ramonas of the world, who have no proof, who are discredited in court again and again and again, to become the fallen poster children for this hysteria has done such damage to the integrity of those who are victims of child abuse.

“I’ve never had, I guess you could call it a cause, that I’ve cared about so deeply,” she adds. “Because family matters to me more than anything in the world, and we can no longer afford a loss of families in this nation of already shattered families.”

The answer to the Ramonas’ dilemma, Johnston says, is contained within the metaphor of an empty dinner table. “What it finally came down to–and what the jury attributed a portion of the blame to Gary for–was that this family never ate dinner together,” she explains. “Gary Ramona’s job was to take the Mondavi Winery and to sell the idea that there was no better or more civilized thing in the world than food and wine and people gathered together at the table.

“But Gary was a busy man,” she continues, “a successful executive in a culture where good daddies are busy daddies, off earning money for their families. The failure of this family was their failure to know that their child was troubled in time to stop it before it became clinical depression, bulimia, and ultimately recovered memories.

“That’s the most easily applied message to come out of the book,” Johnston adds. “One friend came up to me and said, ‘Moira, I get it now. I don’t care how busy I am, from now on Wednesday is family night; we’re cooking, we’re eating, and all of the children will be there.’

“The best line in the book, I think, is a quote from one psychologist in Napa,” she softly concludes. “‘We have deified our chefs,’ he said, ‘and starved our children of nurture.’ In that, if nothing else, the Ramonas’ story hits us all where we live.”

Moira Johnston appears Saturday, March 14, at 7 p.m. at Joseph Phelps Vineyards, 200 Taplin Road, St. Helena. Tickets are $18-$20. 257-2117.

From the March 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Pentagon Hacker

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Pentagon Hackers Speak Online

Paula Harris

AN ENIGMATIC FIGURE who claims to have mentored a Cloverdale teen hacker accused by the FBI of breaking into several Department of Defense computer systems has taken credit for the crime.

In an exclusive Internet interview posted Wednesday on the Pittsburgh, Pa.-based AntiOnline website, a man identified only as Analyzer said he wants authorities “to release Makaveli”–the nickname for one of two local youths questioned by federal law enforcement officials but not charged with the computer crimes. Analyzer claims that he can prove that he entered the unclassified military and government computer sites in a massive cyberattack.

“He really didn’t [do that],” Analyzer told AntiOnline founder John Vranesevich. “I can prove [it] myself by giving the [passwords to the] servers [that were broken into].”

On Tuesday, Analyzer–regarded as one of the best in the hacker community–struck again when he broke into the server at NetDex Inc., a local Internet provider that was used surreptitiously by hackers to access the Pentagon and other sites. During the most recent break-in, he changed the name of the business’ website homepage to “The Hacked NetDex. Inc.” and declared that he had cracked the site “in order to make things right.” Then, Analyzer issued a brazen challenge to the FBI, which has been investigating the case for several months: “Makaveli did not hack any of those [Department of Defense] systems,” he wrote on the NetDex page. “[H]e don’t even know how to trojan a system. [I]f [you are] searching [for] anyone, [you] should search for me.”

FBI spokesperson Patti Hansen had no comment Wednesday on the latest invasion of NetDex, which had just issued a statement to subscribers assuring them that confidential files and credit card numbers were safe.

However, the FBI was unaware of the interview with Analyzer posted just five hours after he hacked into
the NetDex system right under the watchful gaze of the FBI.

“It’s a dubious honor to have been chosen as a way station [for hackers],” said NetDex owner Bill Zane. “I would prefer not to have been the one.

“This should be a wake-up call for schools, parents, and systems administrators.”

ANALYZER is believed to be an 18-year-old Israeli who has operated out of his homeland. “We’ve known him for a while as the ‘unknown hacker’ and the mentor to several predominant hackers in the country,” said Vranesevich, who started the AntiOnline site four years ago, “but this is the first time we’ve found out his nickname.”

According to sources, Analyzer is part of an Israeli hacking group knaown as Enforcers. Analyzer plans to distribute passwords to 400 confidential U.S. government computer systems, including sensitive sites at NASA, the Navy Department, and other key defense agencies.

“[Analyzer] seems very boastful, very confident that nobody is going to find out who he is,” said Vranesevich, whose website is getting “hundreds of hits every hour” from government and military agencies. “He believes that he’s hidden himself well enough so that nobody will discover his identity.”

The breach of computer security systems at U.S government and military offices and at universities is the largest case of computer break-ins.

In the AntiOnline interview this week, Analyzer described himself as an idealistic anarchist who loves “chaos” and “hates” big governmental organizations. He claims to have started hacking two years ago “as a challenge.” Some of the systems he has cracked have contained classified information, he noted, adding that he has “rarely” looked at the documents and has never taken money in exchange for his work.

“I told you, I hack everything,” he said. “If it’s a big server or gov[ernment system], I will hack it.”

He plans to retire “in the near future,” he said, and acknowledged mentoring Makaveli. “Since I was going to retire, I was going to teach someone some of my knowledge and guide him,” he claimed. “Also he was hard as hell to get rid of.”

Zane–noting a rash of Microsoft Windows NT crashes this week at universities and government agencies coast-to-coast–likens computer hackers to terrorists. “It looks like cyber war,” he said, noting Analyzer sees himself as “an evil genius.”

In his March 2 interview with Vranesevich, Makaveli denied that he was in the midst of breaking into a government site when FBI agents stormed into his home. “That’s bull,” he said, “I was on [Internet relay chat] talking to some of my friends.”

He admitted to having had the access codes to computers at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratories, which conducts research into nuclear weapons, and said he “may have given” those codes to some friends.

Throughout the interview, Vranesevich said, Makaveli made reference to Analyzer as the hacker the agency is really after.

If I was ever asked who is the best hacker that ever was, it would be him without a doubt,” Makaveli marveled. “There are still 100 U.S. servers hacked that the FBI doesn’t even know about.”

And he explained the motivation that many hackers have expressed: “It’s power, dude–you know, power.”

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Talking Pictures

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Bedside Manner


Yariv Milchan

The kiss: Catherine McCormack and Rufus Sewell embrace in Dangerous Beauty.

Margo St. James on the power of sex and Dangerous Beauty

By David Templeton

In his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation, David Templeton escorts renowned social reformer and notorious ex-prostitute Margo St. James to see the new film Dangerous Beauty, the true story of a courageous and influential courtesan in 16th-century Venice.

MARGO ST. JAMES can’t stop crying. What started as a soft, silent trickle of tears about halfway through the film Dangerous Beauty has gradually intensified into the unstoppable downpour of empathy and emotion that St. James is now bravely attempting to quell. On screen, black-robed priests of the Spanish Inquisition have forced the heroine–Venice’s influential 16th-century poet and prostitute, Veronica Franco (Catherine McCormack)–to stand trial and account for the “bewitching power” that the wealthy wives of Venice have accused her of wielding over their smitten husbands. When Franco calmly confesses–not to witchcraft, but simply to having been born a woman of little wealth, with few choices open to her beyond that of the relatively privileged life of a courtesan–St. James, once a prostitute herself, and equally influential in her own city of San Francisco, is just about undone.

“Jesus!” she exclaims, wiping at her damp cheeks as the lights come up. “You didn’t tell me this would be such a tearjerker. But being that this is the first film I’ve seen in eight or nine years,” she laughs, “I’d say you picked a good one for me to go out on.”

For some of us, a decade in between movies might seem a long time, but Margo St. James is hardly the average person. She’s busier than most.

When not producing and starring in her award-winning weekly cable show, Streetwise (Tuesday nights on San Francisco’s Channel 53), or traversing the country to lobby for the decriminalization of prostitution, this bona fide cultural icon and author helps pay her bills as a waitress at a local restaurant, while tirelessly working in her spare time on behalf of the National Task Force on Prostitution and COYOTE (Cast off Your Old Tired Ethics), the prostitutes’ rights group she founded in 1973. She is the co-author, with Gail McPheterson, of A Vindication of the Rights of Whores (Seal Press, 1989) and continues to write on the status of sex workers around the world. As if that weren’t enough, St. James also occasionally runs for public office. She narrowly missed winning a seat on the city’s Board of Supervisors in the last election, and is gearing up for a probable victory this November.

This afternoon, though, she’s taking a bit of time for herself.

“One thing I’ll say about that film,” she proclaims a few minutes later, stirring a double decaf cappuccino at a nearby coffeehouse, “the men were all hunks! Of all the guys she was sleeping with, there was only one old one. I remember those days. I used to pick out the good ones, too, you bet.”

When St. James laughs, her voice deep and flirtatiously husky, several heads turn to locate the source of the sound. As skilled as she is at commanding the attention of a room, it’s clear she’ll make a fascinating politician.

“There were some basic truths in the film that can’t be denied,” she continues. “For instance, the wives, the ‘good women,’ who all joined up with the right wing to attack their own kind–that’s been happening in this country for the last two decades, with hard-core feminists like Andrea Dworkin joining the fundamentalists in coming out against prostitution.

“There’s such a stigma about the money! What did that one guy say to Veronica in the film? That the courtesans were ‘trading love for greed’? Well, that’s the big taboo: sleeping with men for money. It’s perfectly legal–in this state anyway–for a woman to have sex with anyone she chooses, at any time. But the minute five cents changes hands–then boom! She’s a whore, and she goes to jail. It’s ludicrous.”

I mention a criticism some have made of Dangerous Beauty: that its presentation of a prostitute who enjoys having sex is nothing but a male fantasy.

“Let me tell you something,” St. James says, leaning forward. “It’s not necessarily a fantasy. Even back in the ’70s, some probation department guys made a study in Pittsburgh, and they found that the most downtrodden women on the street, whores who were being recycled through the jail every week, told them that they got some gratification from hooking. Not necessarily that they had orgasms–though I was one of the first to admit to having orgasms with customers–but that they felt honestly gratified afterwards.

“And yeah,” she chuckles, “it was probably just the money, but you know, I found, personally, that if I was seeing three or four customers a day …” She pauses a moment, considering the matter seriously. “Let me put it this way,” she finally says. “It’s really true about sex. The more you get, the more you want. And some days, it was pretty damn enjoyable.”

The real Veronica Franco, as in the movie, was held up as a reason for the plague that was sweeping though Venice and across Europe: the deaths as God’s punishment for the wanton ways of the courtesans and their clients.

“Religion loves epidemics,” St. James remarks. “And God is always punishing the whores. It’s all superstition, of course. I’m an atheist.

“Being 60 years old, I’ve seen a lot, and lived through a lot of positive changes, and they’re all wonderful,” she continues. “But I’ve also seen the rise of fundamentalism and the AIDS pandemic that came along and almost shut down everything, including the women’s movement. Whores are still one of the first groups to get blamed for everything, from AIDS to the depreciation of property.

“What this country needs is a woman in the White House,” she insists, “and preferably a whore. Someone has to stand up and take away the moralists’ red herrings, and I think it’s up to the women to do that,” she laughs her no-nonsense laughs, adding, “be they whores or otherwise.”

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

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Le Jazz Hot


All that jazz: Jason Robinson

A quartet of noteworthy new jazz CDs

Jason Robinson
From the Sun
(Circumvention Music)

AS THE JAZZ WORLD focuses on a younger generation, the Bay Area is naturally finding time in the spotlight. The success of avant-funky guitarist Charlie Hunter portends a crop of talent versed in rock and soul, yet a traditionalist strain remains strong among new acts. On his new disc From the Sun, Sonoma County’s Jason Robinson sounds as if he could be recording in the ’60s for respected jazz labels like Prestige, Fantasy, or Blue Note. This is a precise, punctuated ensemble playing in a classic bebop mode, as the former sax-playing sideman steps out as composer, arranger, bandleader, and producer. Robinson emphasizes solos with piano and guitar comping. He’s confident enough to let the other members of his septet solo before him, choosing instead to let the songs speak through structure and accent. The Latin-flavored breaks on “Flight from the Sun” and “Perception” contrast nicely with the subtle late-night melancholy of “Love,” while “Spirit of a Trane” struts a snappy blues-based edge. From the Sun is swinging and clear, tasteful with a modern edge, and should serve notice that Robinson has arrived.
Karl Byrn

Charlie Haden
The Montreal Tapes with Geri Allen and Paul Motian
(Verve)

The Montreal Tapes with Gonzalo Rubalcaba and Paul Motian
(Verve)

ON A HOT SUMMER night in 1989, jazz bass wiz Charlie Haden–arguably the most tasteful bass player in modern jazz (with apologies to Ray Brown)–hosted a series of concerts at the Montreal Jazz Festival, featuring such luminaries as guitarist Pat Metheny, tenor sax man Joe Henderson, and avant-gardist Paul Bley. To date, two of those eight celebrated Haden sessions–one featuring the late trumpet great Don Cherry, the other with Haden’s own Liberation Music Orchestra–have seen the light of day. Now another pair of trio sessions are available–Verve promises more to come–and they are well worth the wait. Pianist Geri Allen, a veteran of the Ornette Coleman acoustic quartet, displays a bluesy, angular Monk-like edge tempered by an African flair. Her sense of style and sensitivity to ballads steps to the fore in “First Song,” the Haden original covered on the recent Grammy-winning Haden/Metheny collaboration Beyond a Missouri Sky. Cuban-born pianist Rubalcaba steals the show, however, on a set of complex, stunningly beautiful solos. The opening track, Gary Peacock’s evocative “Vignette,” set the tone for the evening with its “polyspeed” bursts of impressionistic waves and romantic outpourings. And, of course, Haden is tasteful as always. Highly recommended.
Greg Cahill

Oscar Aleman
Swing Guitar Masterpieces, 1938-1957
(Acoustic Disc)

HE IS HAILED as the Argentine Django Rheinhart. But some jazz aficionados feel that guitarist Oscar Aleman actually had better chops than his more famous gypsy-jazz counterpart (jazz critic Leonard Feather once proclaimed that Aleman could “outswing” Django). Unfortunately, Aleman has languished in relative obscurity for six decades. Fortunately, this infectious two-CD set places him center stage. And, yes, there’s a story behind this engaging release. In 1973, Grateful Dead guitarist Jerry Garcia snagged a bootlegged tape of Aleman tracks. He turned mandolinist David Grisman on to his find. The following year the duo recorded an Aleman-inspired version of Irving Berlin’s “Russian Lullabye” on Garcia’s debut solo LP. For those new to Aleman, this 52-track set–released on Grisman’s San Rafael­based label–is a real find, a treasure trove of improvised boogie woogie, Latin-flavored Broadway standards, and simmering swing hits (sung in English and Spanish). Essential stuff for any music lover, and especially fledgling swing fans searching for the next big thing. Go back to the future to capture the swingin’ sounds of a Buenos Aires bistro brimming with the coolest of prewar jazz.
Greg Cahill

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Run-D.M.C.

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Hell Raisers


Michael Amsler

Still runnin’: Run-D.M.C. members Darryl McDaniels, Jay Mizell, and Joey Simmons have risen above seemingly insurmountable odds to become the elder statesmen of hip-hop.

After scaling personal and professional tribulations, Run-D.M.C are back in black

By Sal Hepatica

HELLO, PORKPIE HATS. Five years after their last album, the Christian-inspired Down with the King, rap legends Run-D.M.C. are, as Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous host Robin Leach might intone (loudly), on an upward swing! They’re on tour. They’re the recipients of a recent MTV lifetime-achievement award and the subject of an appreciative rockumentary (or is that rapumentary?). New-school hip-hoppers are rushing to pay tribute to the Kings of Rock–last year, the Wu-Tang Clan covered the Run-D.M.C. classic “Sucker MCs.” And a new album is in the works.

Whaddup, homey?

“It’s like town to town, spot to spot, a hop, a skip, and a jump one night in each town and then we’re back on the road,” observes group member Darryl McDaniels, 33, during a phone call from a Brooklyn hotel room. “It’s a really busy time for us. We were just buggin’ out the other day, saying we can’t believe how many shows we’ve got booked.

“This is the busiest we’ve been since the Raisin’ Hell tour.”

For those who think the history of hip-hop began with the ubiquitous–and unabashedly commercial–Puff Daddy, that re-emergence is significant. After all, Run-D.M.C.–McDaniels, boyhood chum Joey Simmons, and basketball buddy Jay Mizell (aka Jam Master Jay)–helped change the course of popular music, introducing porkpie hats, gold chains, and untied sneakers, as Rolling Stone once noted, to youth culture’s most stubborn demographic group: white, male, suburban rock fans.

“Our basic goal is being 65 years old and being able to come out and do a tour–sort of like the Rolling Stones,” McDaniels quips. “We want people to laugh and joke about us like they laugh and joke about Mick Jagger. You know, 50 years old and still out there touring.

“We want hip-hop to be an everlasting, eternal music–it’s not going to be a ‘remember when?’ kind of thing.”

Fame found Run-D.M.C. in 1986 with the release of Raising Hell, the third LP from this Queens, New York­based rap trio. In a brainstorm by record producer Rick Rubin, the group recorded a mind-bending rock ‘n’ rap cover of Aerosmith’s ’70s-rock hit “Walk This Way.”

The track–hailed by the music press as one of the cleverest marketing schemes ever–confirmed the group’s self-professed King of Rock status, sent suburban metalheads jumping for their air guitars, and revitalized the flaccid career of Aerosmith, then a washed-up Rolling Stones clone.

The album sold 5 million copies, became the first rap album to hit the Billboard Top 10 album chart (it peaked at No. 8) and earn multiple platinum status, earned corporate sponsorships from Adidas, and paved the way for a whole generation of new-school rappers.

THESE DAYS, in a genre known for its youth orientation and experimentation with state-of-the-art technology, Run-D.M.C are the elder statesmen of hip-hop. “Since the death of the so-called gangsta rap and the materialism of Puff Daddy, people are looking back to the old way of deejaying, rhyming, and having a good time,” says McDaniels.

“Ya know what I’m sayin’? People are getting back to the foundation of hip-hop.

“Meanwhile, we’ve seen groups come and we’ve seen fads go, but we’re still here.”

That’s a story in itself. After all, Run-D.M.C. may have taken hardcore hip-hop from an underground street sensation to a pop-culture phenomenon, but it was a bumpy ride. Raised in the middle-class neighborhood of Hollis, Queens, by the time Joey Simmons had reached his teens, older brother Russell already had achieved success on the local rap scene. One year out of high school, the younger Simmons and his pals recorded a groundbreaking single, “It’s Like That,” backed with “Suckers MCs.”

The platter spotlighted the group’s unconventional singing style in which, rather than trade off verses, Simmons and McDaniels finish each other’s lines. The single hit No. 15 on the R&B charts.

Their eponymous 1984 debut album established their trademark rock influences, virtually unheard of in the jazz- and R&B-influenced world of rap. By the time Raising Hell cracked the Top 10, Run-D.M.C. had starred in the movie Krush Groove–alongside Kurtis Blow, the Fat Boys, and the Beastie Boys–and opened the commercial floodgate to rap.

But success took its toll. Both Simmons and McDaniels battled drug abuse and alcohol problems, and a rape charge (later dropped) dogged Simmons. Tougher than Leather, the much-anticipated 1988 follow-up to Raising Hell, reached No. 9 on the pop charts, but proved a critical failure. Back from Hell, released in 1990, was their first album not to go gold.

“It was unavoidable that we go through the basic sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll thing,” McDaniels says. “That’s out here in this career. Some don’t survive it, some do. Those that do survive can be an example for those that follow.

“We don’t want to preach, but we do want to set an example.”

Certainly, the list of rappers who have fallen by the wayside–sometimes in a hail of bullets–is legion: NWA, M.C. Hammer, Vanilla Ice, the Notorious BIG, 2Pac. “We’re still here because we hold the essence of what the real hip-hop is: fun, a positive message, a good time, rock the crowd, rap, break dance, spin on your head, jump into the audience,” McDaniels adds.

“All that stuff is all good.

“We could have compromised our sound and said, ‘Oh, maybe we should do what Puffy do, or maybe we should do what 2Pac’s doin’.’ But then we wouldn’t be keeping it real,” he concludes. “The only reason we’re still here today is that we’re keepin’ our black hats on and we doin’ what we always do that makes us, us.”

Run-D.M.C. perform Friday, March 13, at 9 p.m. at the Phoenix Theatre, 201 Washington St., Petaluma. Tickets are $15 advance (SSU students); $17 advance (general); and $20 at the door. For details, call 664-2382.

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Kids on Prozac

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Mother’s Little Helpers


Lee Ballard

Approved for adults only, Prozac is being used to medicate children as young as 8 years old. Why are we using powerful drugs to raise our daughters?

By Clare Kinberg

A few months ago, a 17-year-old girl I know went to her family doctor for a routine physical exam. Her anxious feelings about leaving home were compounded by the recent death of a family member, so in filling out the questionnaire at the doctor’s office–where everything from constipation to cancer is a yes or no question–Nina marked “yes” next to chronic anxiety. After the examination, the nurse practitioner, who did not know Nina’s medical or mental health history, asked if she wanted a prescription “for the anxiety.”

Nina was shocked by the practitioner’s casual suggestion and refused the drugs. Telling me about it later, she added that most of her girlfriends were taking some kind of antidepressants, and that during her first week at college she’d met several girls who were taking Prozac.

Nina’s experience is commonplace. In 1996, some 600,000 children and adolescents in the United States were prescribed Prozac, Zoloft, or Paxil, trade names for the current generation of antidepressants. While this number of prescriptions represents, for Prozac alone, a 46 percent increase over 1995 prescriptions written for 13- to 18-year-olds, it is a soaring 298 percent increase in prescriptions written for children ages 8 to 12.

Yet neither Prozac nor the other drugs have been approved by the FDA for adolescents and children, whose minds and bodies are still in the process of developing. Though Eli Lilly & Co., the makers of Prozac, have recently submitted data to the FDA on trial studies done on youth, Eli Lilly spokesperson Steven M. Paul says the drug will not be approved for children or adolescents anytime soon. Eli Lilly’s Web page for Prozac says in bold print, “Prozac is a treatment for depression in adults. The safety and effectiveness of Prozac in children have not been established.”

The vast increase in the use of antidepressants for young women raises troubling questions. Why are so many being prescribed a drug that hasn’t been deemed safe for them? Has this society let antidepressants become a widespread solution not only to emotional difficulties, but to any emotional response to life? Are adolescent girls who are anxious, sad, or angry being prescribed the new drugs just because adults want a shortcut to making these young women happy, satisfied, and calm?

When I was a teenager, around 1970, two women involved in the women’s liberation movement spoke at my school about sex-role stereotyping. I couldn’t relate to what they said. At 15, I already knew I wasn’t going to be relegated to the kitchen and laundry like my mother, but this awareness didn’t have anything to do with feminism. In my mind, I was a person free to do whatever I wanted. I didn’t need a movement.

But not long after this, I read an article in a feminist journal that changed my attitude. The story was critical of prescribing the tranquilizers Valium and Librium, often referred to as “mother’s little helpers,” to a burgeoning number of housewives to cope with the anxiety and depression in their lives.

This criticism struck home. My mother, seeking help with long-term unhappiness, had recently gone to a psychiatrist. He had listened to her cry, asked her a few questions, then prescribed an antidepressant, Elavil. The doctor didn’t even set up another appointment. To me, this “solution” to my mother’s unhappiness communicated despair and hopelessness. By not investigating her situation, the doctor was essentially telling my mother that her life was not worth examining and that there was no hope of making any changes.

I didn’t accept that message then, and I don’t now. When our society sanctions doctors prescribing mind-altering drugs in large numbers to depressed women, whether they are adults or teenagers, we are giving the message that personal and social conditions cannot change, that the best women can do is cope.

Preferred treatments by mental-health professionals have shifted over the years, spurred by social and political conditions as well as changing hypotheses about how the mind and body work. Currently, the majority of mental-health professionals are focused on brain chemistry as the source of emotional and mental troubles–and they’ve focused on one chemical in particular: serotonin. For more than 50 years, researchers have been investigating the complex physical and emotional role of serotonin, one of many neurotransmitters–chemical messengers–in our brain that seem to affect our moods.

The hallucinogens LSD, mescaline, psilocybin, and ecstasy, and the antidepressant Elavil are all serotonin-related drugs. So is the recently recalled (because 30 percent or more of its users could develop abnormalities in their heart valves) diet drug Redux (fenfluramine, or fen-phen). Prozac, Zoloft, and Paxil are called “selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors,” or SSRIs, because they act to keep more of the already present serotonin active in the brain synapses for a longer period. Using SSRIs as antidepressants is based on the theory that sluggish or low levels of serotonin in the brain are a cause of impulsive behavior, depression, violence, and suicide.

Many people who take antidepressants are pleased with the results. Some would swear the drugs saved their lives. This does not, however, negate the fact that researchers have yet to comprehend fully the body’s complex system of neurotransmitters.

Prozac and the other SSRIs are prescribed for, among other conditions, anorexia, bulimia, anxiety and panic disorders, obsessive-compulsive disorder, child and adolescent emotional and behavioral problems, depression, PMS, chronic fatigue syndrome, phobias, and seasonal affective disorder.

Curiously, most of these conditions are diagnosed most often in women and girls. The makers of Prozac have emphasized that Prozac is for “clinical depression,” and not, as their advertising seems to imply, to improve personalities or relieve the everyday stresses of living. But a report in the April 1996 issue of Professional Psychology, Research and Practice summarizing all research on SSRIs up to that date indicates the drugs have failed to “demonstrate greater efficacy than placebos in alleviating depressive symptoms in children and adolescents, despite the use of research strategies designed to give antidepressants an advantage over placebos.”

And yet, the number of prescriptions for adolescents and children is steadily rising. Prescriptions for girls make up the large majority, and with recent studies on the use of SSRIs for PMS and eating disorders, more girls will be given prescriptions.

T O HELP ME understand this trend from a more personal point of view, I spoke to a number of young women who were prescribed the new antidepressants. Sasha, a 17-year-old girl who has been depressed on and off since she was 13, tells me that during her first session with a new therapist she was told that a healthy brain makes and circulates good chemicals, but a depressed brain means that circuit is interrupted. “What the Prozac does,” she was told, “is bridge that gap.”

Essentially, after just one session, Sasha heard there was something wrong with the way her brain works. Still, she says she’s relieved to be diagnosed with clinical depression because it gives her hope she can get better. She likes taking Prozac, she says, because it gives her more energy. Her complaint is that she doesn’t feel comfortable expressing her feelings to her therapist.

“When I start to get a little bit more depressed, she ups the dosage,” Sasha says. “I’m not dealing with anything in therapy, but I’m talking to my friends more. I think taking Prozac has been the right thing for me, but I still have a lot of work to do.”

In fact, none of the 10 girls I interviewed were actually in a productive therapeutic relationship while they were taking antidepressants. Most of the prescriptions had been written by a family doctor or by a psychiatrist to whom their parents took them with one purpose: to get them on antidepressants. What is even more striking is that most of the girls did not initially want to take antidepressants.

One young woman, “Teresa,” was prescribed Prozac after being hospitalized because she had overdosed on Tylenol and sleeping pills. “They insisted I was anorexic or bulimic and I wasn’t either,” Teresa says. “Their ‘treatment’ consisted of [monitoring my bathroom use] and prescribing Prozac. I was really depressed, but I don’t think Prozac was the answer. I needed more than just something that was going to change my brain.”

Sandra, 18, had abused drugs and alcohol in her early teens, but had been clean and sober for more than two years when she went to see a therapist to help her through what she thought was seasonal depression. After one session, the therapist suggested she see a doctor about antidepressants, but Sandra felt uncomfortable about putting drugs back into her body. Instead, she found another therapist, who helped her stay on a program of meditation, exercise, and good food. She is now doing well, taking a full load in school while continuing to see her therapist.

In some cases, ambivalence about taking antidepressants led to irregular use and wild experimentation. Carey, whom I spoke to at a drug and alcohol recovery program, says she was prescribed Paxil by her family doctor, but wasn’t sure she wanted to take it. Sometimes she just wouldn’t. Once she swallowed 10 pills at one time “just to see what it would be like.”

Another girl said she felt sick if she took Zoloft and then consumed alcohol, so if she wanted to go out drinking she’d just throw the pills under the bed. I also heard reports of girls snorting Prozac, “sharing” pills with friends, and selling the pills on the street.

Even though Lucy Zammarelli, program manager for Project START, an Oregon drug and alcohol recovery program for teenage girls, knows her clients abuse drugs–whether those drugs are legal or illegal–she favors using SSRIs in the recovery process because they help make her clients feel better, she says. “Even outside the brain chemistry, there is an emotional sadness in the girls we see in recovery,” she says. “Many of the girls have been sexually or physically abused, but even for the ones who haven’t, most don’t have fathers or any caring man in their lives. Relationships with their mothers are strained. They have a yearning for the wonderful TV family. They’ve lived in poverty, and we know that poverty is one of the premier precedents for depression.”

These girls start by drinking and/or smoking marijuana or using meth to make themselves feel good. “Then we say your life is a mess, you’ve got to stop using. So they go into the deep depression that goes with withdrawal and detoxing,” says Zammarelli. Most of the girls start to feel better after a few weeks of being off drugs and alcohol, she says, adding that only 10 to 15 percent of the girls are recommended for antidepressants. Those clients, she says, “tend to do better than the ones not on antidepressants” in terms of staying in recovery and getting on with their lives.

“Even after they are clean, the sadness is still there, the craving, and the desire to drink is still there,” says Zammarelli. “They still don’t have resources in their family; their moms still really aren’t there for them. So we tell them, ‘Well, here’s something that you can take. It’s going to help your brain feel better.’ They try it and they can smile, they can laugh, they can have fun. It’s so sad when the girls are depressed. I mean, it breaks your heart.”

Other mental health professionals also see the new generation of antidepressants as beneficial. Betty Merten, a therapist who specializes in depression, estimates that one third of the girls who come to her are already using antidepressants. After getting a full picture of her clients’ lives and making diagnoses, Merten says, she recommends to another third that they should start taking the drugs.

“Depression can happen when a series of things finally deplete a person’s resources,” Marten says. Most people can get well without antidepressants, she admits, “but adolescence is such a critical time, I’m for using all the tools that are available.”

Merten and Zammerelli’s views assume that these antidepressants are essentially innocuous; that if they don’t help the girls, at least they don’t hurt them. However, there is much evidence to cast doubt on that belief. Several of the girls I talked to experienced unwanted effects from the antidepressants.

Many felt anxious and had trouble sleeping, and were then prescribed something to help them sleep. Some had a loss of appetite.

Teresa describes the most seriously negative effects from Prozac: “It really heightened my emotions, and my biggest emotion right then was anger. So it made my anger so much worse. I’d run around the house screaming. I couldn’t control my emotions. I would yell at people for no reason. Finally, I tried to kill myself again by taking all the Prozac and whatever else I could find.”

T ERESA’S reactions to Prozac are not unusual. One published study specifically designed to investigate side effects of Prozac in youth 8-16 years old showed that 50 percent of the participants exhibited two or more of the behavioral side effects described as “motor restlessness,” “sleep disturbance,” “social disinhibition,” and “subjective sensation of excitation.”

In a study of children diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, 14 percent developed self-destructive phenomena associated with being treated with Prozac. Serotonin’s action in the body is not limited to the brain, but affects the entire central nervous system and blood vessels in the lungs and heart. Though there are significant differences between the weight-loss drug Redux, which was recalled just 18 months after it received FDA approval, and SSRI antidepressants, the Redux experience ought to add at least a note of caution to the assumption of harmlessness.

Nor should we forget women’s experience with another of Eli Lilly’s infamous “wonder drugs,” DES. Between 1947 and 1971, 5 million women in the United States were prescribed the synthetic hormone diethylstilbestrol to prevent miscarriage and to ensure healthy pregnancies. However, research as early as the ’50s showed DES not only to be ineffective in preventing miscarriage, but also to cause cancer and deformed reproductive organs in rats and mice.

Though the FDA issued a warning in 1971 against pregnant women taking DES, and thousands of daughters born to women who took DES developed an often fatal vaginal cancer, Eli Lilly has never publicly admitted any problem with the drug. It has, however, settled many lawsuits out of court.

Can Eli Lilly or the FDA be trusted to ensure Prozac’s safety? According to a January 1996 interview with Peter Breggin, medical doctor and author of Talking back to Prozac, “there are about 160 suits out against Eli Lilly, for people who either committed murder or suicide or mutilated themselves or did something horribly violent on Prozac.”

Another danger is that the prescription will be seen as a quick fix, or as an end in itself. Although every professional I talked to stressed the vital nature of continuing therapy whenever an antidepressant is prescribed, there were vast differences among therapists in their use of the drugs with their patients.

For instance, psychologist Mitch Schwartz says that in his years of practice, he’s never referred an adolescent client for medication. If a client’s depression hasn’t lifted after several months of therapy, he says, he would consider an antidepressant. But only as a last resort. “If someone is depressed, I try to find out why they are not enjoying life,” he says. “Then we work cognitively. What are the person’s assumptions and beliefs about the world? What are her self-talk tapes? The idea is to take a perspective on one’s own thinking.”

Therapist Jon Garlinghouse, whose specialty is suicide prevention, also isn’t satisfied with the medical approach to relieving depression, but he’s glad it’s there. “I use it as a backup all the time. I’m absolutely certain it saves lives,” he says. “But as a singular approach or solution to depression without any analysis of what is driving the depression in a person’s history, it’s nuts. You need an integrated approach where somebody asks certain questions and knows how to ask the questions.

“Whatever people say about psychiatric medication as an intervention,” Garlinghouse emphasizes, “it is a profound thing to do to your body. There are times when that is exactly what is needed to keep a person alive.”

Still, Garlinghouse says, he would recommend antidepressants only if he felt it was dangerous not to. If it’s possible, though, he would “rather take the time to do the education, put the connections together to see what a person can do on their own.”

Schwartz and Garlinghouse’s approaches are supported in a study by April 1996 University of Montana psychologists John and Rita Sommers-Flanagan. They recommend that psychologists seeing adolescents find all the following criteria before referring youth for medical consultation: the absence of clear environmental determinants (e.g., family conflict, divorce, etc.); severe depressive symptoms with strong physiological components (e.g., sleep disturbance, somatic complaints, appetite changes, and associated weight loss or gain); treatment response is lacking after 10 to 15 therapy sessions; and the patient expresses a clear preference for medication over psychological interventions.

But a huge difficulty for girls and their families in this era of managed care is the time this kind of therapeutic approach takes. Managed-care health insurance simply will not pay for the “long haul” therapy needed to get to the bottom of serious depression. Schwartz and Garlinghouse’s approaches, far from quick fixes, would probably not be covered by most medical plans or HMOs. In fact, HMOs may be heading in the opposite direction by recommending that customers start taking antidepressants in order to cut health-care costs.

ACCORDING to a recent story in Fortune magazine, at least one HMO recently decided to cut costs by identifying customers they think might benefit from mood-elevating drugs. Lovelace Health Systems, based in Albuquerque, N.M., speculated that heavy users of medical services may suffer more from mental distress than physical.

If a person has been admitted to a hospital or used an emergency room three times in a year, or is taking seven or more medications, or has run up over $25,000 in medical bills in one year, Lovelace sends out a psychological survey of 20 questions. Based on the individual’s answers, Lovelace may refer that person to a doctor, who generally prescribes a combination of counseling and Prozac.

According to Lovelace’s own report, the program has already yielded results: The medical expenses of 2,079 patients who started taking SSRIs at the suggestion of Lovelace were $2.1 million lower than in the previous year. The story concludes that “Prozac and its sibling drugs could be an important remedy for rising health-care costs.”

Though most of the girls I talked to were prescribed antidepressants after one or two sessions with a therapist, every therapist I talked to, including some who regularly recommend antidepressants to clients, said they thought that psychotherapy alone was “equally effective” in the vast majority of clients, and more effective for the long term. Zammarelli of Project START said she thought that eating healthy food, and getting exercise, a weekly massage, and acupuncture treatments would be as effective in improving girls’ depression as the pills. “But none of these are paid for by available health plans,” she says.

My mother’s situation had two important elements in common with many other women of her time, and unfortunately of ours: When she turned to the mental health system for help, she was given the message that her individual thoughts and feelings were of no interest or importance, and the only “aid” available was to alter her body chemistry so that she could cope.

Now, in the 1990s, pharmaceutical solutions, rather than looking at real issues, are still the way women are encouraged to cope with our lives. We’re told that the new generation of antidepressants are “feminist” drugs because, according to Peter in his best-selling book Listening to Prozac, they get women out of the house and into the workplace.

But being drugged into being “happy” cannot be an answer.

This is the first of a two-part series on the growing use of powerful mindcontrol drugs on children. Next week: Boys and Ritalin.

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Organic Farming

Dirty Deal

Michael Amsler


Has the USDA slaughtered organic farming?

By Stephanie Hiller

A SKED WHY he chose to grow food organically, Scott Mathiesen, owner of Laguna Farms in Sebastopol, replies, “Because there’s just no other way.” But the meticulous process to which Mathiesen is so ardently committed is being challenged by less stringent standards put forth Dec. 16 by the United States Department of Agriculture–ironically at the behest of organic producers themselves, who had hoped for more stringent regulations.

If the new rules go into effect, farmers say, the organic label the public has learned to trust will have no meaning. “A chicken raised in cramped conditions, fed inorganic feed that was fertilized with sewer sludge, given antibiotics, and then irradiated, could be sold as organic,” says consumer activist Patricia Dines, who addressed a packed Feb. 25 meeting of local organic producers and consumers at the Sonoma County Farm Bureau. “That’s not the public’s idea of an organic chicken!”

The meeting was called to brainstorm strategies to block the proposed regulations, which have met with unanimous opposition from the organic community nationwide. At stake, spokespersons say, is the future of a $4.2 billion industry built up over the past 25 years. The lion’s share–some 50 to 80 percent of the crop–is produced in California. Sonoma County alone tills 2,341 acres, yielding $5 million in sales last year, a much bigger hill of beans than organic publisher J. Rodale was looking at when he set forth the first certification standards for organic food in 1971.

Because of the growth of the industry, farmers had asked for a uniform set of national rules. Congress adopted the Federal Organic Farm Production Act in 1990, authorizing the National Organic Standards Board to establish the guidelines.

“There was a lot of consensus building within the industry,” says Kate Burroughs, co-owner of Harmony Farms in Graton. “I really felt the NOSB was able to bring together a lot of divergent opinions and make regulations the industry could live with.” The USDA chose to ignore most of them. Hence the furor, which has stunned federal officials with nearly 5,000 letters, faxes, and e-mail posts rejecting the rules–and the outcry, opponents say, has just begun.

Last week, Rep. Lynn Woolsey, D-Petaluma, wrote Secretary of Agriculture Dan Glickman, charging that the new standards will “threaten the integrity of the organic process in our state.” Staggered by the vehemence of the opposition, the USDA has extended the comment period to April 30 and chosen a new acting program manager, Keith Jones, purported to be more sympathetic to the organic foods industry.

Marin Agricultural Commissioner Stacey Carlsen, who participated in the NOSB process, reports that the state board has now received 460 comments, all but one of them opposed to the new rules. He believes the entire package of regulations should be thrown out. “They don’t address the process the organic community wanted. The model varied way too far from its intent.”

“The NOSB was supposed to say which materials were allowed,” says David Letourneau, chairman of the government affairs committee for California Certified Organic Growers. “But these regs are allowing substances that the NOSB specifically prohibited,” including nicotine sulfate, a highly toxic insecticide used in greenhouses; sodium fluoroaluminate; and four cotton defoliants sprayed to control weeds. Seeds may be treated, and chemical fertilizers would be permitted. Pressure-treated wood, which leaches arsenic into the soil, is another item the NOSB prohibits, but the USDA permits.

Burroughs says, “It’s as though you gave the USDA the right to regulate kosher food, and the first thing they said was, ‘Pork is OK’!”

Dines calls it “slaughtering the chicken who laid the golden egg.”

The rules do not address irradiation, sewer sludge, and genetically engineered foods. Specifically prohibited by the NOSB, the “big three” are receiving most of the attention in the press, but critics allege that the USDA is using them as a smokescreen to cover up small inconsistencies sprinkled throughout the hefty document.

Does anybody support these rules? John Westoby, assistant agricultural commissioner for Sonoma County, couldn’t think of anyone. Neither could Carlsen. “I think they stink,” says Dan Benedetti of the Clover-Stornetta dairy. “They have eliminated one important aspect, the people of this country. What we eat should not be beyond our control. It’s up to the people to decide what they consider safe.”

For that reason, Benedetti believes that public reply is “crucial.”

Why did the USDA choose to dilute the hard work of the board? Critics charge that the agency has violated the 1990 law, which gave the NOSB sole authority for setting standards, and has set itself up for multiple lawsuits. “The USDA was not authorized to change the definition of organic,” insists Dines. No one really knows why the USDA has turned on them.

Some believe it was unduly swayed by agribusiness, which are heavily invested in genetic engineering. “The USDA is a proponent of genetic engineering,” charges Letourneau. Others, like Burroughs, shy away from such conspiracy theories, calling them “cynical.”

Michael Hankin, senior marketing specialist for the USDA’s organics program, says the agency has adhered to the NOSB’s guidelines, noting that “only seven” subtances prohibited by the NOSB have been allowed in the proposed new regulations.

IN ANY CASE, not all the alterations were done by the Department of Agriculture. The federal Office of Management and Budget dropped a full 200 pages, which dealt with restricted materials (ash, chlorine, antibiotics, certain sanitizers, and disinfectants) because their legality was open to question.

Any benign intent the government might be presumed to possess in this matter is shadowed by the document’s labeling clause that specifically prohibits the marketing of a purer product under some other eco-label, a necessary alternative for producers choosing to adhere to current higher standards. But organic growers don’t want to surrender the O-word to a weaker standard, anyway.

“We’ve worked hard for organic,” says Mathiesen, whose own standards are so high that he calls his produce “beyond organic.” Mathiesen expects to survive by continuing to sell directly through farmers’ markets and Community Supported Agriculture, in which individual subscribers receive weekly baskets. But he fears other farmers may be forced to shut down.

Asked how he would be affected, local organic farmer Shepherd Bliss says he would be pressured by an upsurge of competitors whose food is not organic. “It’s not just the product, but the process by which it is grown,” he explains. The care, the stewarding of the earth “feeds my soul. That’s what organic food is about.”

Says Ernie Shelton, owner of Food for Thought groceries: “The way these rules are written has nothing to do with the bigger picture of environmental well-being or the magic of organic farming because they don’t know how to define magic at the USDA.”

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Mary Gordon

Hunger Artist

Spending March 13.

Joyce Ravid


Spending time with Mary Gordon

By Gretchen Giles

MONICA SZABO has raised her twin daughters to a righteous adulthood, teaches art at a college in New York city, and paints as her passion dictates. She’s 50-something, has had one husband and doesn’t want another, has close friendships, and loves to cook, run in the park with her dog, and make love. Her guilt level is at an extreme low. Extreme, because she is a character made out of novelist Mary Gordon’s imagination. And all of Gordon’s characters–and at her own admission, even her own character–are defined by guilt.

Monica is the emancipated artist around whom Gordon’s newest novel, Spending (Scribner; $24), revolves. Slyly subtitled “A Utopian Divertimento,” Spending follows the surprising turnaround of a make-do female painter whose life is upended when she finds B, a male patron who not only loves her work, but wants to love it up the old-fashioned way: with cash.

Using B (his name is not revealed until the novel’s end) as her muse, Monica creates a series of works based on old-master depictions of a deathly Christ. However, she paints this elegant male form as suffering not the big death, but the little one. Titling her series “Spent Men,” Monica depicts postcoital Messiahs, drawn after B’s body, causing an uproar with the religious right and propelling her into the Schnabel-high firmament of stardom.

Loaded with sex, meals, swims, and long chewy passages about the process of painting, Spending is certain to hit the beaches with a tidal flow this summer. Gordon, whose 1978 novel Final Payments made her an overnight success at age 29, continued her career with 1981’s bestseller The Company of Women, won the O. Henry award for short fiction in 1996, and received much acclaim for the 1996 memoir The Shadow Man, her autobiographical search for the true identity of the adored father who died when she was just 7 years old.

Now 50 herself, Gordon lives in Manhattan with her second husband and two teenaged children, and teaches literature at Barnard College. She appears Friday, March 13, at Copperfield’s Books to read from her latest.

From what we’ve heard tell, and from what the pages of Mirabella would have us believe, 50 is a point of freedom for those women who have done the down-and-dirty of childrearing, particularly female artists. Do Gordon and Monica share in this sense of liberation?

“I’m guess I’m kind of excited, because I’m not sure that it’s really been written about in a somewhat serious way,” Gordon says by phone from her upstate New York vacation home, where she is resting in preparation for a seven-city tour. “I’m a feminist, and I’m not afraid to say that this is a feminist novel, because it’s as if feminism immediately means ‘joylessness’ to people, and I don’t think that this is it at all. People of my age have now accomplished a certain amount, and we’re not scratching at the door begging to be let in anymore. We’re in now, and we’re still young enough to enjoy it, and there are new sets of problems and challenges, but that’s where we are, as cohorts.”

Spending‘s shadowy B is a commodities trader–whatever that is; Monica never bothers to find out–whose paper shuffling has earned him millions. When Monica needs to see a work by Mantegna up close, B flies with her first-class to Milan. Heck, when Monica needs some time to regroup after her success, he flies with her first-class to Rome–for the weekend. She spends some time worrying about trading sex for B’s money, gnashing out the word ‘whore,’ but when she finally makes her own cash, she generously endows him. About spending on many levels, this novel frankly addresses the brokerage that couples enact.

“What I’m trying to talk about is what money can buy at a certain point in your life, and one of the things that money buys is time,” Gordon, who rises each day at 5:30 a.m. to write in longhand, says emphatically. “And time seems to me to be a really, really grueling issue for women: How do you make the space that makes the time? And I sort of cut through the problem of time by giving her money.”

But it is Gordon’s informed depiction of the painter’s life that brings Spending above the tidal mark of the beach book that it could be. Monica’s thought processes as she paints, her intention with the canvas, and her love of color all ring gorgeously true.

“One thing that I really envy my painter friends for is that they get to play with stuff, this physical stuff,” Gordon says. “It has this aspect of literal making in a way that something that you do with words doesn’t have. But with both painters and people who work in words, there’s always the problem of your vision never being able to be captured–that sense that no matter what you’re doing, it’s always a failed enterprise, that what is bodied forth in the world is never as absolutely ravishing as your vision.”

Gordon, whose scholarly work includes an incomplete dissertation on the writings of Virginia Woolf, ends Spending with a party that would have made Mrs. Dalloway proud (“Suppose that Mrs. Dalloway had to do all the work herself instead of just ringing Rumpelmayer’s … ,” Gordon chuckles). But Monica ends alone, in bed, hearing B leave the apartment, secure in the knowledge that he will return, but not wishing a more complete union. Isn’t Gordon shortchanging her character of love and marriage?

“She’s not a young woman,” Gordon answers thoughtfully. “And I think that that dream of total immersion is essentially a young woman’s dream. As you get older, solitude becomes a voluptuous entity in itself, and you almost yearn for solitude in the way that a younger woman yearns for complete union.

“It becomes,” she says, “a real hunger.”

Mary Gordon reads from and discusses Spending on Friday, March 13, at Copperfield’s Books, 2316 Montgomery Drive, in Montgomery Village, Santa Rosa. 7 p.m. Free. 823-8991.

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

White Wines

0

Instant Gratification

White is right: There’s no reason to wait years for white wine to age to perfection. For the most part, white wine is already perfect when you purchase it. Drink it while you’re waiting for the red–and yourself–to age.

White wines that are ready to uncork now

By Bob Johnson

THE EVOLUTION of a wine drinker roughly follows this pattern: Phase I–You open a bottle from the folks’ stash as a teenager, take one whiff, and either add 7-Up to the libation or quickly pour the contents down the drain with one hand while grabbing a can of beer from the fridge with the other.

Phase II–You share a box of wine with fellow sorority or fraternity members looking for a cheap buzz. (Bottles of wine occasionally make their way into dorms, and almost all of them have screw caps, so if you can’t find a box of wine on a Saturday night, a few screw-capped bottles suffice.)

Phase III–While hanging out at a “meet market,” a friend suggests trying a glass of white zinfandel. You don’t know why, but you find you like white zin a whole lot better than the boxed stuff.

Phase IV–A few weeks later at the same “meet market,” you encounter a member of the opposite sex who offers to buy you a glass of chardonnay. Not having a clue what chardonnay is, and not wanting to appear unsophisticated, you agree.

(This is where the evolution stops for many people. If they don’t like the chardonnay, they return to white zin and never look back. Since white zin is the top-selling wine varietal in the country, it’s obvious that countless numbers fall into this category. If, however, they enjoy the chardonnay, the evolution may continue.)

Phase V–Either through your own curiosity or at the behest of a friend, you try a glass of red wine. If you find it too “strong” or too “alcoholic” or too “sour,” you’ll likely stick with chardonnay in the future. But if you like it, you’re on your way to …

Phase VI–Otherwise known as “wine geekdom.” You start trying different varietals. You may even read a book or take a class about wine. And you start talking the talk, amazingly enough, using words like aromatic, unctuous, and cloying in everyday conversations.

If you become truly affected by the wine bug, you may even turn your back on white wine altogether. I know a number of people who now drink nothing but red wine–usually big, bold cabernet sauvignons–and a handful of folks who won’t even look at a bottling that receives less than a 90 rating on a 100-point scale from one of those foo-foo wine mags.

While these people may think they’re drinking only the best, in actuality they’re missing out on some truly memorable white wine-drinking experiences. Especially for people who are eating lighter (chicken, fish, veggies), a well-made white wine can be just what the doctor ordered. The fruity, not overpowering, flavors of the wine can meld marvelously with the delicate, subtle flavors of the food.

Allowing yourself to drink white wine on occasion also serves another purpose: It frees up space on your wine rack for storing more reds. While most reds gain complexity with a few years of bottle aging, most whites are ready to be consumed now. And if you’re starting to get up there in years, it makes a lot of sense to live in the present. As an elderly friend recently said, “I’m not taking any chances on aging wines. Heck, I don’t even buy green bananas.”

There are countless quality bottlings of white wine on the market today, ranging from the ubiquitous chardonnay to varietals that are lesser-known but every bit as tasty.

The white wines that follow are rated on a scale of one to four corks: one cork, commercially sound; two corks, average; three corks, above average; and four corks, excellent.

Geyser Peak 1997 Sauvignon Blanc, Sonoma County–Pineapple and grapefruit flavors, with pleasing herbal nuances. Clean and sweet tasting. 3 corks.

Buena Vista 1996 Sauvignon Blanc, California–Luscious peach, fig, lime, and mineral notes in a sweet-finishing, pleasing style. 3 corks.

Martini & Prati 1996 Gatto Selvaggio Moscato Bianco, California–This Muscat Canelli bottling is clean, crisp, slightly spritzy, and refreshing, with a floral nose, and apple and pear flavors. 3 corks.

Martini & Prati 1996 Vino Grigio, California–Complex enough for the most discriminating palate, yet soft and fruit-forward enough to wow the white-zin crowd. Vanilla and green apple aromas jump out of the glass, accompanied by honeysuckle and ripe honeydew melon nuances. Nicely balanced and thoroughly decadent. 3.5 corks.

De Loach 1996 Early Harvest Gewürztraminer, Russian River Valley–Crisp grapefruit and rose petal aromas, and sweeter fruit flavors in the mouth. This clean, balanced wine stands up as an aperitif or as a refreshing quaffer with brunch or spicy Asian dishes. 3 corks.

The Pyramids Ranch Vineyards 1995 Chardonnay, Sonoma County–A delicious chardonnay from a relatively unknown winery … so far. Winemaker Gregory Graham, who also works for Napa Valley’s acclaimed Rombauer Winery, put this wine through 100 percent malolactic fermentation, which accounts for the creamy oak aroma and flavor. Toss in flavors of apricots and peaches, and you have a stunningly tasty bottling for the price–seen for under $12 in some stores. 3 corks.

From the March 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

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