"Sweeney Todd" at Runaway Stage Productions

Ruth Phillips as Mrs. Lovett.


Saturday night, I finally caught Runaway Stage's "Sweeney Todd," starring Ray Fisher as Sweeney Todd, and Ruth Phillips as Mrs. Lovett (their last performance was this afternoon). An excellent show overall, with strong performances by Margaret Hollinbeck as the Beggar Woman, Craig Howard as Pirelli, and Kevin Caravalho as Tobias.

In most musicals, I much prefer Act I to Act II. In Act I, you are exposed some exotic new locale, fresh and happy people, and novel circumstances. The tedious stuff, like wrapping up unsatisfactory romances and burying the dead, is usually left to Act II. No doubt because "Sweeney Todd" is a thriller, it is one of the few, rare musicals where Act II is more interesting than Act I.

For years, DMTC tended to consider "Sweeney Todd" as a company specialty, since no one else in the area would produce this dark musical: it's good to see RSP try their hand. I was part of the ensemble in DMTC's 2002 show, and there were interesting deviations between DMTC's 2002 show and RSP's version. At least two people in the Saturday night audience had also been in DMTC's 2002 version: Lenore Sebastian (Mrs. Lovett) and Richard Spierto (Judge Turpin).

As usual, RSP miked their actors, which was a good decision here: the rapid-fire dialogue could be understood despite the English accents. At DMTC in 2002, I suspect we were sometimes unable to convey our dialogue across clearly.

Judge Turpin's disturbing self-flagellation song was omitted from RSP's version. The song doesn't add that much by itself, except to creep people out further, but by and large, I support keeping any show's integrity by keeping all the songs. People act very strangely to some songs. One friend described how she and a friend had had a shock revelation upon seeing and hearing Judge Turpin's song in DMTC's version: the twisted Judge reminded them of a close mutual acquaintance, and despite the hideous nature of the song, they were reduced to hysterical fits of amused laughter.

One oversight: as a friend pointed out, RSP tended to de-emphasize the importance of Mrs. Lovett cadging not only Pirelli's money, but the purse as well, from Pirelli's lifeless body. The sudden revelation of the purse's existence triggers a cascade of events later on in the show, and emphasis on the purse's theft should have been emphasized as much as possible.

It was awesome how well Kevin Caravalho seized the spotlight in the final scene. What a fine actor he is! Joel Porter made a fine (meaning a bad) Judge Turpin, and Chris Scarberry was smooth and evil as Beadle Bamford.

The ensemble did a fine job as well. I remember how difficult 'City on Fire' was in Act II ('Look! There! Great black crows, etc.'), and the ensemble did well here. In 2002, I was lucky, because I was blocked to stand more or less behind Kelly Daniells: life on stage is always so much easier if you always end up standing behind Kelly Daniells.

An interesting thing began to happen as I listened to Sweeney expound upon his ugly philosophy - he began to persuade me that murder was not only a logical reaction to life's travails, but actually the best overall path in life. It's funny how musicals grab your emotions and play with them. It's a good thing that Sweeney overreaches: otherwise, we might all hurtle over the precipice with him.

"The Worst Pies in London"

Well, At Least It's Natural...

Fun food facts from today's Wall Street Journal....

70,000 female cochineal beetles must be crushed and dried to create one pound of the reddish Carmine pigment used in many food products, including the following:

• Good & Plenty candy;
• Dannon Fruit on the Bottom Boysenberry yogurt;
• Yoplait Thick & Creamy Low Fat Strawberry yogurt;
• Tropicana Ruby Red Grapefruit juice;
• Tropicana Orange Strawberry Banana juice; and,
• SoBe Courage Cherry Citrus drink.

Fairbanks Chill

Third-coldest January on record, so far, according to Frank, in Fairbanks, Alaska. Sometimes this Arctic Cam link works, but at these cold temperatures, everything breaks, including cameras.....

Here's what Accuweather says:

In Fairbanks, Alaska the temperature reached 50 below zero this morning. Some of that air came right over the pole from the Asia continent.

Where There's Smoke....

There's fire?:

An inquiry into the death of Princess Diana is "far more complex than any of us thought," the official leading the investigation said Friday without commenting on the conspiracy theories that persist nearly nine years after her death.

Lord Stevens, the former head of London's Metropolitan Police, acknowledged that some of the issues raised by Mohammed al Fayed -- whose son, Dodi, was killed in the 1997 car crash with Diana -- were "right to be raised." He did not elaborate.

Mohammed al Fayed, the owner of London's famous Harrods store, has claimed Diana and his son were killed by British intelligence officials and their deaths resulted from a plot instigated by Prince Philip, husband of Queen Elizabeth II and Diana's former father-in-law.

Lord Stevens, speaking in a recorded interview to Britain's GMTV Sunday Program, did not reveal which of al Fayed's concerns he believed were correct.

"It is right to say that some of the issues that have been raised by Mr. Fayed have been right to be raised," he told the program, to be broadcast Sunday. "We are pursing those. It is a far more complex inquiry than any of us thought."

Ann Coulter's Sense of Humor

They call this bitch-slapping, a favorite media pasttime, particularly on the right. The trouble is that it is often effective, which means it gets done over and over again, no matter how destructive to civilized public discourse:

"We need somebody to put rat poisoning in Justice Stevens' creme brulee," Coulter said. "That's just a joke, for you in the media."

Things That Make You Go Hmm....

Something's up....

Davis City Manager Jim Antonen was fired Wednesday morning, according to a source close to City Hall.

Surveillance

Vegans and liberal groups in general suffer undercover surveillance by the FBI and other agencies: conservatives are left alone. So much for the value of Homeland Security!:

For example, more than two dozen government surveillance photographs show 22-year-old Caitlin Childs of Atlanta, a strict vegetarian, and other vegans picketing against meat eating, in December 2003. They staged their protest outside a HoneyBaked Ham store on Buford Highway in DeKalb County.

An undercover DeKalb County Homeland Security detective was assigned to conduct surveillance of the protest and the protestors, and take the photographs. The detective arrested Childs and another protester after he saw Childs approach him and write down, on a piece of paper, the license plate number of his unmarked government car.

"They told me if I didn't give over the piece of paper I would go to jail and I refused and I went to jail, and the piece of paper was taken away from me at the jail and the officer who transferred me said that was why I was arrested," Childs said on Wednesday.

The government file lists anti-war protesters in Atlanta as threats, the ACLU said. The ACLU of Georgia accuses the Bush administration of labeling those who disagree with its policy as disloyal Americans.

"We believe that spying on American citizens for no good reason is fundamentally un-American, that it's not the place of the goverment or the best use of resources to spy on its own citizens and we want it to stop. We want the spies in our government to pack their bags, close up their notebooks, take their cameras home and not engage in the spying anymore," Gerald Weber of the ACLU of Georgia said during a news conference.

"We have heard of not a single, government surveillance of a pro-war group," Weber said. "And I doubt we will ever hear of a single surveillance of a pro-war group."

Bad Girl

Alaskan blogger goes bad.

Weird News Blip

In today's Wall Street Journal. I wonder what it means?

Kazak police hunted for U.S. $100 and $50 bills that the central bank warned have radiation levels far in excess of normal for unknown reasons.

Clements' Taking

Logan Darrow Clements, young libertarian and former 2003 California Recall gubernatorial candidate, was in the news recently, trying to use eminent domain to seize the property of U.S. Supreme Court Justice David Souter, in order to score political points:

"This is in the tradition of the Boston Tea Party and the Pine Tree Riot," Organizer Logan Darrow Clements said, referring to the riot that took place during the winter of 1771-1772, when colonists in Weare beat up officials appointed by King George III who fined them for logging white pines without approval.

"All we're trying to do is put an end to eminent domain abuse," Clements said, by having those who advocate or facilitate it "live under it, so they understand why it needs to end."

There is a legitimate issue here. Indeed, just listening to the news regarding the particular Connecticut eminent domain case, my impulse was to side with the conservatives. Nevertheless, an opponent of Clements sees things differently:

State Rep. Neal Kurk, a Weare resident who is sponsoring two pieces of eminent domain legislation in New Hampshire, said he expects the group's proposal to be defeated overwhelmingly.

"Most people here see this as an act of revenge and an improper attack on the judicial system," Kurk said. "You don't go after a judge personally because you disagree with his judgments."

Indeed, there is a regrettable impulse, at least on the part of conservatives in California (such as California State Senator Tom McClintock), to see eminent domain controversies, such as the recent one involving Yolo County and the Rumsey Rancheria (as I blogged about here last year) as just another handy wedge issue, which can be cynically manipulated, whatever the local nuances, to score lazy Culture War points.

I'd be more impressed with Clements if he tore after some conservatives for a change. He is a follower of Ayn-Rand style libertarianism, which places a very high value (too high in my opinion) on individual freedom-of-action (note I don't say freedom here: it's as much freedom of economic action as it is freedom of thought). The thought of making a sacrifice for the common good seems anathema to him, and the idea of eminent domain must strike him as particularly horrible, but perhaps it's better to let him speak for himself....

Here is a portion of an E-Mail from him, sent shortly after the Recall election(dated 10/21/03), to other Recall candidates on our mailing list, attacking, making a caricature of (and thus misrepresenting) the views of one of the liberal Democratic candidates in the election. It's written in the heat-of-the-moment, and a window into what his philosophy is:

When will socialists like yourself come to realize that socialism is disgustingly unethical. I’m sure you already realize that it is a miserable failure everywhere in the world. But I’m not against socialism because “it doesn’t work”, I’m opposed to it because it makes “society” the standard of value and sacrifices individuals to this new god called “society”. Under socialism individuals become pawns of the government who can tell them what to do, take as much of their money as it wants....or kill them if it is “good for society”. Problem is that “society” is nothing more than a word to denote a group of individuals. So history shows us that socialism amounts to one individual (or group of individuals) using the power of the government to rob, imprison or murder another individual (or group of individuals).

You socialists fear “big corporations” that provide us with food, housing, cars, software, clothing, medicine and everything else but you don’t fear “big government” which has murdered over 100 million people in the last 100 years (read “The Black Book of Communism” written by former socialists) and stolen more money from people than all the thieves in the world in all of history. A thief might steal a car stereo, some jewelry or a few hundred dollars. Governments take 50% to 80% of the income of their subjects. In socialist nations they steal entire factories and entire industries. Hillary Clinton tried to put one fifth of the US economy under socialism with her delicately named “single payer” health care plan.

What governments do: start wars, murder people, imprison people, steal our money, take away our freedom
What “big bad corporations” do: produce all the things to keep us alive, make us happy and save our life

Who do you and your ilk think are the real villains in our world?... the mass murders, destroyers and thieves which are governments? No, the companies that sell you the car you drive, the toothpaste you use and the milk you drink. What a pathetic lot of misguided fools you all are.

It’s funny how socialists like yourself often favor gun control but all of your programs require guns because they all function by force. Force people into social security, prohibit people from freely trading by force, prohibit competition with public transportation by force, take their money by force, force employers to do this, force workers to do that, force, force, force...its the way the wheels turn (or don’t) under socialism. You will need a lot of guns to implement your plans since none of them involve free choice and all involve force.

I won’t defend the Republicans. Many Republicans are as bad as Democrats, some are worse. I’m an Objectivist who just ran on their ticket. I’ll defend Objectivism though and if you’d care to take a swipe at it here’s where you can get more information about this philosophy. Take your best shot!
Www.objectivistcenter.org

"Ballets Russes" Schedule Shift

From February 3rd to March 10 - 16, at the Crest.

Mara As Maggie

Ray Fisher reports that Mara Davi has been cast as Maggie in the Broadway revival of "A Chorus Line."

Las Vegas Miscellany

I was suffering fatigue-induced Attention-Deficit Disorder during this trip, and was easily distracted by the various signs and sights:

Some signs seem to raise more questions than they provide answers.

A rhetorical question.

I hate pop quizzes!

Sorry, the word isn't "artifacts": it's "props"!

Convenience is all-important!

A Las Vegas sunset.


















Smoke from a fireplace at midday? What morning chill could it be dispelling? It's shirt-sleeve weather!

Cigarette smoke and its effect on indoor air quality: they vacuum the freakin' ceiling at the MGM Grand!

Our Jaws Drop in Amazement

Walt and I have have been trying to wrap our brains around how prolific our former classmate, Lawrance Bernabo, has been in writing reviews for Amazon.com. Yesterday, Walt wrote:

What I can't figure out is how someone could find the time, or inspiration, to write 11,646 reviews. If he started 10 years ago, he'd have to average 3.2 per day since 1996. How often do you see 3 movies in one day, or read 3 books, or even listen to three new CDs? Have you ever done 22 in one week, ever? Lawrance Bernabo apparently has done 22 per week, every week, for 520 weeks. Or maybe its only 45 per week for 260 weeks.

Today, Walt writes:

Since I wrote you yesterday, Lawrance Bernabo has written 10 more reviews: 4 movies/TV shows, including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 3 books, 2 music albums, and one flag (yes, a flag). He has now posted 11,656 reviews. I don't think I can catch up to him.

New York, New York Roller Coaster

Suddenly looking up at the steep incline of the track, I began pondering the statistics:

• 4,777 feet of track;
• Maximum height of 203 feet;
• Drops of 144 feet; and
• Speeds up to 67 mph.

I also wondered whether I had ever been on a real roller coaster before. Careful reflection established that this was my first roller coaster ride.

I'm freakin' gonna die!

Clubbin' in Las Vegas

Besides myself, two close male college friends of Ira were at the bat mitzvah: Steve Zaintz (the "Z"; who had been in Mr. Norton's high school physics class along with Walt and myself) and Jeff Broffsky. The "Z" owns a Thai restaurant and Jeff owns a comic book store, both in Albuquerque. The two of them wanted to go out after the bat mitzvah and I wanted to join them.

Jeff exudes an air of mastery and control, a decided benefit in a place like Las Vegas, where velvet ropes and hired flaks control access to everything. Ira warned me that Jeff could take me places in Las Vegas that I had never heard of or even thought about. My inside voice said "duh, that's the entire point," but my outside voice said "don't worry, everything will be just fine."

I drove downtown, from the "Suncoast" to the "Four Queens," in order to pick up Jeff and the "Z", and parked in the parking garage. I had been pretty indecisive about what shoes to wear, so when I opened the door of my car, I decided to change shoes once again. Just at that moment, a group of people came to retrieve the car parked next to mine. "OH MY GOD!" a woman uttered, with absolute disgust, when she saw me all hunched over, squatting in-between the two parked cars. "It's OK! It's OK!", I reassured her. "Don't worry, everything is just fine!"

The three of us headed over to The Palms. For a change from his usual practice in Las Vegas, Jeff wanted to see a nightclub. Jeff said we were on a list for special entry to The Palms' Ghost Bar tonight. I was immediately impressed: the Ghost Bar is arguably the most-desired club in the entire city, one of the favorite haunts of celebrities and world-class beauties. How did we get on THIS list? Jeff said a good customer of his in Albuquerque had made arrangements with one of the Maloofs (the owners of The Palms, and who are also from New Mexico), and we were guaranteed access, even on this busy Saturday night.

When we arrived, though, we discovered Jeff's name was not on the list. The special access Jeff had been promised wasn't there. "Which Maloof gave you access?", I asked Jeff. Abashed, Jeff didn't know - his good customer had been responsible for all the arrangements. So, the Ghost Bar evaporated back into the Land of Phantoms and Ectoplasm, and we had to decide what to do next.

We proceeded to the MGM Grand, and tried to enter Studio 54, the main discotheque on the premises, but the lines were outrageously long, so instead we chose another, much smaller club inside the same complex, named Tabu. Entering the club was slightly tricky. Anticipating that Master of the Universe Jeff wanted a table of his own, the flaks quoted him a $250 rate for a table. They did not tell him that the normal cover charge was only $20. We eventually sorted it all out, however, and entered Tabu at the usual rate.

(left) Tabu at about 3 a.m.


Tabu is a lounge that features a row of four low tables surrounded by sofas, with (I believe) two bars. The low tables are cunningly designed to either be normal tables, dancing platforms, or screens upon which interesting lighting effects can be projected onto from above. Access to the sofas is carefully limited to those who pay for such access.

Jeff and the "Z" got drinks and stood gazing at the assorted beauties: I began dancing to the good House music, and tried to find some floor space in between two sofas, which was sort-of a gray border zone between two different parties. The "Z" said: "Marc, you should go dance on a platform!" and I said "Nah, I'd be too embarrassed," but after 30-45 minutes, sure enough, the young lovelies pulled me up on a platform, and there I was, shakin' my groove thing.

With their loud music and low lighting, nightclubs are purposely designed to disorient their patrons (hopefully mildly enough that no one gets hurt). Thus, it is always hard to figure out exactly what is going on, and everyone in nightclubs works to fill in their own knowledge gaps, often unsuccessfully. Same with me: I'm not sure I understood exactly what was, happening, but for the rest of the evening, here's what I think was going on....

Someone kicked over a glass, which broke on the floor. Management began glaring at nearby patrons, which included myself, since it happened nearby. Soon enough, I was back dancing on the floor, and I didn't go back on the platform again. I asked the DJ to play Roger Sanchez' 'Turn Up The Music,' and he said he would. About 1:30 a.m., Jeff and the "Z", already fatigued from the night before, decided to call it quits. I drove them back to their room, but since I had a bit of energy left, I decided to return to the MGM Grand.

(left) These athletic performance artists were built for trapezes, but the space at Studio 54 was a little cramped for THAT kind of circus action. What they're doing here is just fine, though.


By 2 a.m., entry to Studio 54 was feasible. I started dancing on the floor of this Sonic Cathedral to the Night Life, but within 30 seconds, a Woman With No Boundaries literally flung her body into mine. She was loud, funny, profane, and persistent, and indicated strongly that she needed a drink (a Long Island Ice Tea). I agreed to buy her one.

Immediately, I had second thoughts: I was breaking Feynman's Law. In the book "Surely You Are Joking, Mr. Feynman," the Nobel-prize-award-winning physicist Richard Feynman explained his counterintuitive cardinal rule regarding nightclubs: no man should ever, under any circumstances, buy a woman a drink in a nightclub. To do so marks one as malleable, weak, and therefore worthy of scorn. But a Woman With No Boundaries gains an advantage of surprise, and tonight, I fell victim.

I bought her a drink, and she immediately fell into an argument with a boyfriend/agent, who came loping after us to the bar (apparently the Woman With Ill-Defined Frontiers was having a border conflict). Small sums of money were exchanged between them. I tired of this, and drifted back to the dance floor. The woman pursued me, and asked a few questions, apparently to assess whether my hotel room was in the near-vicinity (it wasn't). In a flash, she ducked out the exit and disappeared. So, I lost $12 (a small sum by Las Vegas standards) but gained newfound respect for Richard Feynman.

Rather soon, the DJ stopped playing House music and began playing Rap music. Snoop Dog wasn't my cup of tea so after a few minutes I made my way back to Tabu. By 3 a.m., the crowd there had thinned out. The DJ said he had already played my song (about half an hour before) - shoot! Nevertheless, the DJ was playing a good mix of music, so I lingered for awhile, but soon enough, the crowd was no longer at a critical mass. I returned to Studio 54, where the DJ was once again playing good Trance and House music. Excellent!

(left: I need to get a gig like this)


Many people were working through the informational haze that night, laboring on their particular knowledge gaps and trying to answer questions. The many stone-faced young men gripping beer bottles, I don't know what they lacked - their glassy eyes conveyed nothing. (Rather, I know exactly what they lacked, having been in their shoes more than once, but they needed to dance!) There were others in the crowd whose needs were easier to read, however.....

Among the most interesting clubbers were two tall, statuesque beauties who passed along the perimeter of the dance floor, hand-in-hand, ignoring the crowd, meticulously examining the edges of the dance space. At first, I thought this was SO cool: almost like 'vogueing'. But then, I noticed the expression on the faces of these beautiful, beautiful transvestites: grim - they weren't having any fun. The knowledge gap they were working on was 'where's our stuff?' Mislaid - or stolen? Who could say under the flashing lights? I hope it all worked out OK for them.....

Then there was a young Japanese couple. The question they were working on was "what is the best course of action in a foreign nightclub?" They were trying to fit into the system. The logical course of action, of course, was to find the best dancer on the floor, and mimic that person, but that particular woman (an amazing ball of fire) was at the other end of the dance floor.

So, the next logical course was to find the best, or at least the most senior, dancer at the near end of the dance floor, and imitate that person - and I was that senior person! So they began, not precisely an imitation of my moves, but trying to catch a bit of my fire; the fellow enthusiastically so, the girl, afraid of causing offense, a little less so, but both working real hard at it. I envied them both, because, if they were actually living on Tokyo time, their evening was just starting, even as everyone else here was nearing collapse. There was a bit of 'Dance Dance Revolution' (the arcade game) feel about the whole episode, but it was all fun.

Then all of a sudden, there she was: I was dancing with the best dancer on the floor, an amazing blonde fury. We danced up a storm. She told me two things. One was "Don't Touch": unlike the other woman, the blonde had well-defined (and gorgeous) boundaries, and it was difficult to resist crossing the borderline, even if only an instant. The other thing was a prediction, in the form of a compliment, but I somehow missed a word in the din, and so now what she said is a riddle: "Someday you're going to get a (blank)". I've been trying to fill in the blank ever since. It wasn't something like 'hernia' - that has three syllables, and what she said had just one syllable. It was probably either 'girl' (which would be patronizing and therefore not a compliment at all), or, most-likely, 'job.' A job as a dancer? Very nice! Very strange for a compliment, but flattery will get you everywhere, as they say. Who knows? Maybe she's right!

Here is a sign high above The Strip. Makes me think of all the possibilities in Las Vegas. When some people retire, they take on small jobs, like clerking at a convenience store, to make ends meet. Maybe I should start a dance gig, say, at the 'Chippendales Leisure Retirement Home and Golf Resort' in Tonopah when I retire. Nothing much: just something to pay the electric bill. I'll even take the afternoon show.

Anyway, it wasn't until 5 a.m. when I finally toppled into bed at the "Suncoast," dreaming of trapeze artists and brilliant blonde bombshells and big, big tips.

Kelly Daniells at the Mandalay Bay

Here's Kelly rushing to a hair appointment, after a long Saturday rehearsal in preparation for her opening as 'Sophie' in "Mamma Mia," on January 30th (just a week away!) Behind her is the "Mamma Mia" gift shop window.

Jason McDowell flew into Las Vegas from Sacramento for the weekend, and the two of us sat around waiting nearly two hours for Kelly to make her appearance. I convinced a reluctant Jason to come with me and enter the theater and try to watch the rehearsal, but we both bailed out when the security guard escort explained the rules: not only would he have to stop rehearsal, but he would have to get explicit permission from the director, and each and every actor onstage, in order to allow us to just sit there.



Interesting statue in the lobby of the theater at the Mandalay Bay.


Kelly seems to be adjusting relatively well to her new home. The culture shock isn't as great for her as it is for other singers from New York, who were unfamiliar with strip mall living and 24-hour-a-day conveniences.

Unlike her show mates, Kelly has little experience working in professional Broadway shows, and so sometimes conversation runs dry, but that situation is rapidly changing, day after day. Kelly doesn't seem terribly attracted to The Strip: it's excessive glitz seems to strike her as glitzily excessive, and she avoids The Strip when possible. She seems to be in it for the superior singing opportunities.

Kelly's reaction to The Strip is different than my first reaction was. One of my first memories (in 1975) was of two, old, chipped, muscle-man statues, done in a Roman motif, and covered with gold-colored spray paint. The muscle proportions were wrong, and the effect was so cheesy that I could only shake my head. Even the poverty-stricken, decadent, late-Empire Romans wouldn't have put such garbage on display. I couldn't help but fall in love with the ridiculousness of it all. Sure enough, the statues soon vanished, as things, good and bad, vanish so quickly in Las Vegas. Maybe Kelly will have a love-at-first-sight moment someday for some aspect of The Strip, but it hasn't happened yet, and who knows, maybe it never will.

Beth Gershin's Bat Mitzvah

Beth's friends help her light the last of the candles in the candle-lighting ceremony.

Time for a conga line!


A very nice time with Ira, Marcy, Rachel, and, of course, Beth, and the other relatives and friends. It's like a home away from home!

"How Do You Fit Into The System?"

I'm back from a whirlwind trip to Las Vegas! The primary purpose of the trip was to attend Beth Gershin's bat mitzvah. In addition, I wanted to see how Davis' own Kelly Daniells was doing, as she makes final preparations to take on the role of Sophie in "Mamma Mia" in Las Vegas, and just experience the city in general.

I arrived on Friday night, and tried blackjack at both the Mandalay Bay, and the Suncoast, where I was staying, near suburban Summerlin. I was much too aggressive, however, and despite early successes, ended up losing $660.

Saturday morning, I took the elevator down to the Suncoast lobby, and ran into Stephen B. and wife (both related to the Gershins). As I babbled on, Stephen began getting concerned. I recognized him, but he didn't remember me, and I seemed to know an alarming amount about what he considered to be private family matters.

"Listen," he said, as he gestured with hands in the shape of a globe, "how do you fit into the system?" My inside voice said that I didn't fit into the system at all, and that's precisely why I was there, but my outside voice explained how his cousin Ira and I had been good friends in college (at UNM), and also working at Kirtland AFB in Albuquerque. But I liked that strange, disembodied, holistic expression of his - something to use in the future!

The Amazon Conspiracy

Walt stumbled across this ode to the skills of our classmate, Lawrance Bernabo:

So, I think I have stumbled onto the great Amazon.com conspiracy. I think there is no such person as a Lawrance M. Bernabo. It’s all an Amazon.com sham. I point to the fact that "Lawrance" spells his name wrong as our first clue. No self-respecting Larry would spell it LawrAnce! Everyone knows it's LawrEnce! This is the telltale sign that Amazon.com is pulling the wool over our eyes. The subtle hint that "LawrAnce" is a myth, a sham, a FAKE reviewer, is impossible to ignore.

Kylie Collage

Here is some Kylie collage fan art (available at this site). In general, some of the world's most-interesting pop-idol art comes from Mexico (after all, it's the land of black velvet John Travolta and Elvis paintings).

Beginning Xcode

Courtesy of Deborah, here is James' book-jacket blurb. The book can be ordered from Amazon:

• Bringing together the ease of use of Mac OS X, the power of Unix, and a mix of high-performance development technologies, Xcode is Apple's hottest new integrated development environment. This book shows you how Xcode is the fastest and easiest way for developers to create Mac OS X applications.
  
  Covering the basic fundamentals of Xcode development, veteran programmer and developer James Bucanek explains how Xcode coordinates development in various languages supported by Mac and he offers an in-depth look at the Xcode Developer Tools package. Ultimately, you'll see how Xcode makes it easier for you to develop and maintain applications, and how it can help you achieve a seamless, comfortable, and productive working environment.
  
  What you will learn from this book:
  
• How to set up and control your working environment, create a project, and add source files to it;
• Ways to edit source files and alter the structure of the project itself;
• Techniques to starting and controlling the building the process;
• Various options for running, debugging, and constructing automated test suites for your application;
• A variety of editing, documentation, design, and analysis aides.
  
  Who this book is for:
  
  This book is for C, C++, Objective-C, AppleScript, or Java developers who want to learn to use Xcode so they can write, build, and test programs to run on Mac OS X.
  
  Wrox Beginning guides are crafted to make learning programming languages and technologies easier than you think, providing a structured, tutorial format that will guide you through all the techniques involved.

Mystery Photo From The Far North

Frank has lately been doing smog checks and related automotive tests in sunny, balmy (-30 degrees) Fairbanks, Alaska. He took a photo of these mysterious formations. Take a guess what caused them (and it wasn't Richard Dreyfuss working over mashed potatoes as in 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind!') My own guess proved wrong. I'll reveal the motive force, as revealed by Frank, next week, when I return from Las Vegas.

'Rocket Man'

Performed by William Shatner (accompanied by ... is that Bernie Taupin?).

For once, Gabe, I must agree. As you say, "from the bad to the truly awful." Where are the Klingons when you need them?

And, courtesy of MikeMac, Stewie Griffin's 'Rocketman.' Lyrics from LetsSingIt

She packed my bags last night, preflight
Zero hour, nine a.m.
And I'm gonna be high
As a kite by then

I miss the earth so much
I miss my wife
It's lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight

And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time
'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no no no...
I'm a rocket man
Rocket man
Burnin' out his fuse
Up there alone

And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time
'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no no no...
I'm a rocket man
Rocket man
Burnin' out his fuse
Up there alone

Mars ain't the kind of place
To raise your kids
In fact, it's cold as hell
And there's no one there to raise them
If you did

And all this science
I don't understand
It's just my job
Five days a week

A Rocket Man
Rocket Man

And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time
'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no no no...
I'm a rocket man
Rocket man
Burnin' out his fuse
Up there alone

And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time
'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no no no...
I'm a rocket man
Rocket man
Burnin' out his fuse
Up there alone

And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time(7x)

Operation Sierra Storm

Josh Marshall, among others, are aghast that Michael Brown, the late, unlamented director of Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), will be the keynote speaker at Operation Sierra Storm (OSS), up at Lake Tahoe.

Just looking at the conference description, it seems Operation Sierra Storm is aimed at television meteorologists. OSS seems a little light in the science department, and so most professional meteorologists would pass it up, but there is no question that the visuals in the snowy Sierra Nevada would be exceptional. It's all about weather as theater, not as science, and it may be that Michael Brown is as well-qualified as anyone, given his recent experience, to be the keynote speaker at such a conference.

Out On A Limb

Sometimes the squeaky wheel gets the grease. May it be so here:

A man who believes his brother disappeared four decades ago while on a secret anti-Castro mission climbed a radio tower behind the Miami Herald building Thursday and demanded the U.S. government release information about his sibling.

The man, who identified himself as Robert Annable, left a written statement at the base of the tower pleading with federal officials for any information about his brother Harrison, who disappeared from a fishing boat on Nov. 17, 1962, The Miami Herald reported on its Web site Thursday.

Throw It At The Wall - Does Anything Stick?

Republican accusations regarding Nevada Senator Harry Reid get lamer by the day:

“The fact that Senator Reid is using his tax payer funded “War Room” to create and distribute political documents in order to attack Republicans on ethics issues is absolutely hypocritical and absurd. Does Mr. Reid think that using an official government office for political purposes is ethical?” – Brian Nick, NRSC Spokesman

Changes on the (Distant) Horizon

There are signs that in about a week, the general pattern of westerlies will start to change. With more southwesterly flow, in about two weeks, some precipitation might head for AZ. Still a ways off, but better than what Arizonans have experienced lately!

Davis Enterprise Review of DMTC's "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat"

No sign that The Davis Enterprise will put this on the Web, even for a fee, so I'll go ahead and post it. Just copy and save the JPEG on your computer, and contrive to blow it up in size.

Ray's List

I'm hiring Adam Taylor to do some work (a la Craig's List), based upon the recommendation Ray Fisher left on his blog. Adam's going to be helping with drainage issues (not too far removed from Adam's landscaping specialty), and, if everything works well, he'll be jacking up a part of my house that has settled too much over the years (weight horrors!)

Adam seems competent. But I worry about Ray. I mean, ever since Ray took up barbering and meat pies, he's seemed - well - maybe a little unstable .....

Your Cheating Heart

In time for Valentine's Day, more scientific studies. But I wonder if the conclusion is correct?:

Bill Clinton said he felt others' pain. But a new brain-scanning study suggests that when guys see a cheater get a mild electric shock, they don't feel his pain much at all. In fact, they rather enjoy it.

In contrast, women's brains showed they do empathize with the cheater's pain and don't get a kick out it.

Dead Body Guy

Gabe is very excited by Dead Body Guy. I'm mostly just jealous. I mean, does Dead Body Guy have to do aerobics or attend musical theater rehearsal? Come on! Dead Body Guy is a very ironic, postmodern symbol of our vain dreams of fame. And as Andrew Sullivan tiresomely opined, after September 11th, irony is dead!

But Dead Body Guy is going to get on 'Conan O'Brien'? Damn! All I ever got was 'The Daily Show':

Lamb became Dead Body Guy on Dec. 5, when he put up his Web site, DeadBodyGuy.com. The site features photos of Lamb playing dead in various scenes around his house. Crushed by his garage door. Electrocuted in the bathtub. One series shows Lamb lying face-down in a bowl of chicken soup, above a caption that reads "Dying from bird flu."

...His dream was stalled until last month, when he realized that anybody could play dead. By posing as a corpse on the Internet, he thought, perhaps he could win a role as a lifeless extra on "CSI: Miami." He took two days to build the Web site, then waited for someone to notice.

It was a short wait. It received 300,000 hits in its first three weeks. There were 530 hits from Uruguay, six from Iran. In two hours, the site received 2,000 hits from Spain. "I'm huge in Spain," he said.

...Meanwhile, he is waiting to hear back from a producer at the Conan O'Brien show. He has booked a flight to New York to meet with an agent. "I want to leave a little legacy," Lamb said. "I'd like to have a bridge named after me."

Studmuffins

Too bad you have to pay for this strange article, but the Sunday NY Times featured the brewing battle between the brothel owners of Nevada, who believe a low profile is vital for their future, and publicity lightning rod Heidi Fleiss, who is starting up a brothel that will exclusively offer men for female customers. I especially liked the interview with Heidi's first employee, an unemployed actor who easily admitted he has no relevant experience for his new career direction (which I'm sure the stoic Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius would have said, sotto voce, also applied to his first choice of a career).

The brothel owners may be right: in some ways, despite all the newfound 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas' hoopla, Nevada is probably less-welcoming towards vice than ever, which is a function of population growth. For decades, in order to put together barely-adequate annual budgets, some underpopulated counties in Nevada have depended heavily on income from taxes on brothel traffic. As vulnerable rural economies broaden and strengthen, vice automatically weakens. And rural Nevada, like the rest of the Great Basin, with its many churchgoers, Mormon and Catholic, is basically a pretty conservative place. If rural taxpayers can bear the punch in the wallet, prostitution will likely become illegal everywhere in Nevada.

When I first started travelling through Nevada by car, back-and-forth between in Albuquerque and Sacramento in the early 90's, you'd sometimes see isolated, homely trailers and cottages sporting signs advertising massages. I looked askance at these signs as I drove past. I mean, who would come out here for a massage, even granting steering-wheel fatigue? These businesses were located in empty, desolate places, even by Nevada standards. In any event, these roadside businesses have vanished, usually to be replaced by nothing, or occasionally, by trailer park ranchettes glued together by small churches.

On my recent trip, I noticed an oddity: there's an adult book store strip between the city limits of Needles, CA, and Bullhead City, AZ. The strip is almost entirely in AZ, and the number of stores seems way out-of-proportion to the population. No such strip exists in neighboring Laughlin, NV, that I'm aware of.

So ... why? Are these kinds of businesses unwelcome in Nevada these days, or just unwelcome in Clark County, where Laughlin is located? Clark County is less forgiving than many realize. All appearances to the contrary, prostitution is illegal in Clark County, including Las Vegas, which forces the traffic there (barely) underground. I've read that Nevada's Democratic Senator Harry Reid, a Clark County Mormon who grew up in the town of Searchlight, traces his opposition to abortion to the sad side effects of the brothel traffic that used to occur in his hometown, before the ban.

Or is it some sort of zoning thing that makes the Arizona location particularly inviting for adult book stores? Depending on where the city limits are drawn, it may be the presence of 'rez' in-between Needles and Bullhead City. Well, whatever happens in Vegas apparently stays on Arizona's Fort Mohave Indian Reservation, these days.

Too bad I had to cut my recent trip short a day or two. As a result, I missed dropping by the AVN Convention in Las Vegas. I hope a million geeks showed up! No substitute for being in Vegas to see what happens in Vegas (even if it is all sizzle, and no steak).

Utes Rule

As they might say in "My Cousin Vinny":

Ballet is a young person's game. If you reach 40 and are still dancing principal roles, you're considered some kind of quirk of nature - or resented by younger dancers for blocking their potential career paths.

Getting Into that Bat Mitzvah Frame of Mind Again

This weekend, I'll be flying off to Las Vegas, to be a guest at Beth Gershin's bat mitzvah. It's been two years since her sister Rachel's bat mitzvah. That ceremony was held in a stopgap synagogue: a converted branch bank. They had made some changes to the old bank, but it still looked like a bank. It was hard getting used to using the emergency exit rather than the blocked front doors (despite all the dire posted warnings about multiple alarms and armed guards), and sitting in chairs, rather than standing, in front of the teller windows. The buffet worked pretty well, though, with different dishes available in different teller windows.

On my recent pass through Las Vegas, the Gershins pulled out a cleverly-made DVD with highlights of the previous ceremony and party. Rachel's party was held at the off-Strip Suncoast Hotel and Casino, and it was a blast: two DJs, a videographer, a blizzard of party favors, and enough food to choke a stable of horses. I laughed at the screen when a doofus with big Elton John glasses fell on his back while doing the limbo (until I realized that was me!)

This time, apparently, both the ceremony and the party will be at the Suncoast. I will do the limbo right this time - I WILL! (or else smile while falling!) Once again, Steve Zaintz will be there (an old high-school friend and classmate).

The previous visit was notable for a colossal blackjack win ($14,600.00) This time - can lightning strike twice? Dare I find out?

I also want to see how Home-Girl Kelly Daniells is doing, but I can't take up any of her time: this is probably the most intense month of her life, preparing her debut as 'Sophie,' in "Mamma Mia," at the Mandalay Bay Hotel Resort and Casino, starting January 30th.

Really Dry!

Arizona and the Southwest are experiencing an ominous winter 'rainy season', and there's nothing on the horizon to indicate anything will change:

As much of Arizona enters an 11th year of drought conditions, the state could experience its driest winter season in centuries. ... Arizona's mountains are virtually bare, with snowpack conditions worse than they were at the same time in 2002 — a year that set records as one of the driest in five centuries.

... But a stubborn weather pattern has been steering every storm north of Arizona so far this winter.

The Salt and Verde rivers' watersheds received just 0.14 of an inch of rain in November and December, and none has fallen in Phoenix since Oct. 18.

...The main effect of the dry winter in the Phoenix metropolitan area is an increase in water consumption, say city water departments. Mesa increased its use of Central Arizona Project water by 17% in November and 26% in December.

StarDust

Went out Sunday morning to see what the Star Dust re-entry would look like. Based on the story in the Sacramento Bee, I expected a fireball in the northern sky, crossing from west to east 20 degrees above the horizon, and visible for about 20 seconds, at 1:58 a.m., January 15th.

Visibility wasn't the best. I looked across the chain link fence surrounding St. Joseph's graveyard, looking directly above the lights of downtown Sacramento (and the environs beyond) on a bright night just past full moon. On the other hand, the heavy, broken cloud deck had yielded an hour before, to a fairly clear night, so it could have been worst.

StarDust wasn't very bright: about magnitude 2, and so I didn't notice it until it had already crossed half my field of vision. I first mistook it for an aircraft (since Sacramento International Airport is also in that direction). StarDust moved purposely across the sky, faster than an aircraft, but slower than a typical 'shooting star', and angled noticeably towards the ground (about 1 or 2 dgerees from horizontal). By the time I saw it, it was lower than 20 degrees above the horizon, and I saw it for only ten seconds or so.

I've severely tweaked this photo, trying to bring out the speck I think is StarDust, but it may just be my imagination.

A DMTC Weekend

Time to put all our eggs in one basket! Volunteers work Saturday afternoon to move remaining items, including the hundreds of clothes in the costume shop, over to the new Hoblit Performing Arts Center.

The nearly empty rehearsal space - freaky weird!

Gazing into the orchestra pit: On Keyboard II, Celeste Hammon (right) mirrors Erik Daniells (left) on Keyboard I as they jam through 'Pinball Wizard', from "Tommy," immediately following Sunday afternoon's performance of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" at DMTC's New Theater.

A nice, but busy weekend: Moving clothes, seeing performances, and first musical rehearsal for "Titanic" Sunday evening. Saw "Joseph..." on Saturday night, together with Sally Forment. Liked it much! There were fewer mike problems compared to first Friday (I saw Act II that night), and the performances were more-assured.

Me So Sleepy...Me Want Movies and Dance Music

Pepper missed teaching aerobics last night because of his show (mentioned earlier), so instead we got pedal-to-the-medal Bonnie. My sluggish body and brain was unprepared. It was like "Ground Hog" day in a "Flashdance" video, but without the blow torches, the chair, and the refreshing water-dousing break. I'm not sure how I avoided shin splints. Maybe it's because I'm more a creature of the 70's than the 80's, and naked self-interest kept me "Stayin' Alive."

But speaking of dance music, isn't "Turn Up The Music" (Axwell), by Roger Sanchez, one fine dance tune?

You gotta turn up the music!
Feel that sound
Think it's time you turned up the music
Feel that sound, washing me
Every time you turn up the music

Like they say in "Eraserhead," 'it's new!'

San Juan-Chama Project at Albuquerque - What's Going On There?

Boy, there's sure a lot of commotion going on just downstream of the Alameda Bridge across the Rio Grande River. Massive construction associated with the San Juan-Chama Project is underway.

I found a lot of confusion in my own family about what's going on in their own hometown. I suspect this confusion mirrors confusion in the public at large. One of my sisters thought that San Juan water was being carried through pipes to this location, and injected directly into the aquifer there. The other sister suspected a plot (and I paraphrase):

'(Albuquerque Mayor Martin) Chavez promised Intel (which has a large facility located in Rio Rancho) way too much of the city's aquifer water. They suddenly discovered the aquifer doesn't have nearly enough water for the city AND Intel, and now they are panicking.'

Plots notwithstanding, some urgency might be in order. If I understand correctly, for years, the City of Albuquerque did not claim its full water rights to San Juan River water, even as water demand exploded elsewhere in the Colorado River Basin (of which the San Juan River is a part), particularly due to the cancerous growth of Las Vegas, withdrawals by the Central Arizona Project (CAP), and other escalating demands in the desert southwest. Use it now, or lose it forever - the Iron Law of the American West when it comes to water!

The official description of the project sounds salubrious enough:

The Albuquerque Bernalillo County Water Utility Authority’s San Juan-Chama Drinking Water Project will supply up to 70% of the metropolitan area’s future water. San Juan-Chama water diverted from the river will be transported to a state-of-the-art treatment plant, from which purified water will be delivered to Albuquerque area homes and businesses.

Here is another link regarding the project.

(pictures from December 30 and 31, 2005)

Things are still pretty bucolic in the bosque north of the Alameda Bridge over the Rio Grande River at Albuquerque. By the time I noisily crashed through the dense Russian Olive thickets lining the river, I had frightened off the ducks, and most of the seagulls (the white specks in the photos - it's strange that there are seagulls so far inland in the desert, but the desert river does many mysterious things to bird populations).

Here is the view looking south from the Alameda Bridge. The San Juan-Chama project occupies about 15 acres in the riverbed and bosque, and comes close today to spanning the entire riverbed. I wanted very much to tour the work site, but it was a work day, and busy workers were everywhere, and so I made do by sneaking downstream through the bosque on the west bank of the river, in order to get a better look.

James Bond (and his dog) in the bushes. This mysterious kiva-shaped structure is apparently the municipal surface water treatment plant under construction. Or else, it's a unique, unsuspected, aquatic Anasazi ruin.

Another surreptitious look at the construction zone. Water was being withdrawn through pipes from the lateral canal on the east side of the river, and some of it was pouring back into the river from pipes, as seen in this photo. Of course, the water in the lateral canal had initially come from the river, and so the exact purpose of all this water shuffling was unclear: kind of like accounting for money. On the left side of the photo appear gray concrete forms that are probably meant for the bladder dam (or is it the coffer dam?) that is supposed to extend across the river.

Hopelessly out of his element, Sparky, the city dog from California, doggedly trudges through the bosque in pursuit of his mad master, and tries hard to learn the thrills of being a rural dog.

One interesting thing I noticed is that the four-winged saltbush plant appears to be more plentiful near the river than I ever recall it being before. It did not surprise me that high-desert, salt-loving plants were spreading into the fallow farm fields in the Rio Grande Valley (I had seen that advance when I once lived in Corrales), but their appearance right near the river, together with the generational decline and abrupt burnoff (e.g., the June, 2003 fires) of the old cottonwoods, suggests the region desertifies, if given half the chance by mankind. Is it a trend? Or maybe Mother Nature just wants to restore the area to what it was like before people were there? If it is a trend, in a century, the area will change character, and look a lot more like Socorro, and a lot less like Espanola: Rio Arriba will become Rio Abajo!

Today, the creosote bush that dominates the deserts of southern New Mexico makes it as far north as the hills west of Isleta Pueblo, only fifteen miles or so from this location. Cresote bush is a key plant species: how far north will it reach in a century? Will it make it to Albuquerque? What stops its northern advance - temperature, water, or competition?

"A Legacy Isn't A Legacy Until You Pass It On"

At the urging of Pepper Von, I went last night to see "And The Dream Goes On" at CSU, Sacramento, a revival-spirited celebration commemorating the work of Martin Luther King, Jr., but it's the first time I've seen the show (precisely how many previous incarnations there have been is unclear to me). I didn't understand the ticket reservation policy, so I just showed up, and someone just handed me a ticket, so it worked out well.

The show focused on generational clashes that result from pride, and a failure to listen, as much as anything else. The purpose of the musical show is to effectively pass on the core of the learned wisdom of the Civil Rights movement of the 50's and 60's, to a younger generation, without being overbearing or didactic.

I remember once seeing a film of a Civil Rights pioneer (name I've forgotten) as he walked the back roads of Mississippi in the early 60's. This fellow was alarmingly young; no more than twenty. His vision for the future of Mississippi was clear, simple, and quite radical, given the realities of the day: register everyone to vote. He was taking his life into his hands, he knew it, and yet he was unperturbed: he had a mission, and no earthly impediment would stop him. That zeal and clarity of purpose is hard to maintain throughout life, much less convey to a younger generation. The proper education of the young requires placing the message in a form easier to understand: a musical.

Bev Sykes at The Davis Enterprise summarized the show well:

This year's production, "And the Dream Goes On," is the culmination of work that began with 2002's "Keeping the Dream Alive." The creative team — Anthony D'Juan and Lisa Tarrer-Lacy (book), and the Rev. Charles Cooper (music and lyrics) — found their efforts fueled by passion and a firm belief that they were obligated to pass on King's legacy, and that of the civil rights movement, to today's youth.

...

"And the Dream Goes On" is at once a musical revue, a political statement and a good ol' revival meeting, with a heavy dose of history thrown in to hold it all together.

The central characters are a trio of men, each representing a different generation and perspective. The Dream Guide (Derrick A. Miller, reprising his spectacular performance from last year) is given the mission to share King's legacy with Chuck Temper (Stephen Lamar), an angry young man whose life centers around his "homies" (Robert Joseph Andrews and Thomas Wright).

Chuck feels the world owes him a living, and he's drifting through life without any real direction. Both Chuck and The Dream Guide battle internally as they try to discover and fulfill their intertwined destinies.

The Janitor (the incomparable Bill Miller) becomes the voice of wisdom who helps The Dream Guide and Chuck find a way to connect.

Outstanding moments take place in the "Museum of Living History," where heroes of the civil rights movement — sung and unsung — speak their piece. In the very moving finale to Act I, Kenna Wright — a vision of innocence in white, with large, luminous eyes, who clutches a teddy bear — sings "God Knows What's Best for Me," speculating on the possibilities ahead of her, minutes before she becomes a victim of the 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Ala.

At the start of Act II, Elaine Lenae Douglas — accompanied by dancers Venetia James, Misty Kline and Sharen Moseby — portrays an elderly woman who participated in the bus boycott in Mississippi.

Albert (Noah Hayes) speaks out for interracial marriage, stating, "If you forbid me to love, then you forbid me to live."

Bill Miller and dancer Pepper Von give voice and vision to the pride of being an African American man, in the show-stopping "I Am a Man."

...

Tarrer-Lacy insists that this work is more than just a play: "I see it as a vehicle for reflection," she said, "a call to remember how far we have come, and a reminder that our work isn't complete. It is an acknowledgment that we are not the first to struggle against injustice, and that we can stand proud knowing that we, too, possess the strength to overcome diversity."

... Tickets are free, but they're available only at the University Theater Box Office 45 minutes before each show time. Two tickets per person may be picked up (only for that day's performance). Each ticket guarantees a seat until 15 minutes before show time, and seating is limited.

Many fine performances, of course. Like Bev mentioned, Bill Miller and Elaine Lenae Douglas are excellent (as well as Pepper Von and his tap dance sequence). The dance trio is fine as well (I enjoyed comparing the dancers, and seeing, from second-to-second, who was doing best, because they often outdid each other). The three 'homies' are both skilled and lackadaisical in that youthful way that elders find so annoying. My favorite song was 'You Are' by Rachelle Archer, Shelanda Goss, and choir. I was also impressed with Kenna Wright's discipline: frozen while kneeling, out of the spotlight, for just the longest time, with a radiant smile, and not falling over, or having the smile turn into a Frankenstein mask.

Like they say, "A Legacy Isn't A Legacy Until You Pass It On!" The show continues through this weekend - check your newspaper!

[P.S.: I think that last Tarrer-Lacy quote in Bev's review is supposed to be "adversity", not "diversity."]

Shrines To Dancers

Here is Adams Ballet Academy, in Mesa, AZ. I took class with this school at its earlier location in Tempe (from 1988-89). Deborah and James still do take class with Mary Moe Adams.

After a period of time, every good dance studio that prospers will erect informal shrines dedicated to the best of the dancers that receive training there. Newspaper clippings and beautiful photographs help inspire the young dancers that come into a studio to do their very best.

Peering through the windows of Adams' studio (they were still closed for holiday break when I passed through), photographs of Bonnie Moore grace the wall. Moore received her early training with Mary Moe Adams, and left to pursue ballet glory with the Washington Ballet, ABT, and the Royal Ballet.

Bonnie Moore as Juliet. Here is a link to other photographs (by James E. Strickland) of Bonnie Moore, and another link of a photo with her at ABT (Magnum photos).

Other parts of the wall space were dedicated to another, more-recent standout, Presidential scholar Renee Noelle Meiffren (I touched up the JPEG trying to bring out details, but it looks instead like I made her dance in a lemon haze).

One very impressive dancer, who deserves a wall of her own, and who received Adams' training, is Holly Cruikshank. Holly's height posed a problem for a career in ballet, so she opted for Broadway. Holly played 'The Girl in the Yellow Dress' (among other roles) in the Broadway show "Contact," as well as roles in "Fosse" and "Movin' Out." She is one of the fabulous showgirls in the movie "The Producers," starring Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick.

With students like these, Mary Moe Adams has so much to be proud of!

This is Rayn Dance, a modern dance studio, four doors down from the Adams Ballet Academy. They honor a different aesthetic over at Rayn Dance. As an example, there is a different emphasis on the role of breathing. They also dance barefoot and they have a different style of pirouettes compared to the ballet dancers. Nevertheless, if the school prospers, with time, they too will have an informal shrine to their own alumni. It's altogether fitting!

[Update: On April 10th, I took class at Mary's studio, and noticed that on the other side of the wall where Bonnie Moore's pictures are posted, where Mary has her tape player, that Holly Cruikshank has a little mini-shrine of her own!]

VLA

Wow! What a place! In the empty, silent Plains of San Augustin of western NM - Voila! The VLA (Very Large Array) radiotelescope dishes, arrayed on rails across the grassland like a peace symbol (on three sets of rails, each set 120 degrees apart from one another, kind of like a bird footprint). The VLA is an important part of the global VLBA (Very Large Baseline Array). The waveguide electronics are being upgraded to fiber optics, for even faster data transmission. A portion of the movie "Contact," starring Jodie Foster, was filmed here.


The antennas swung from the SW sky to the eastern sky over the space of an hour or so.


We can hear you, but we can't understand you!

New Mexico Tech

It's been way more than a month of Sundays since I walked around the NM Tech campus in Socorro (I went there freshman and sophomore years, in 1974-75). Lots of changes in the intervening thirty years!

New Name-a-Brick monument in the central space on campus. Most of the names on the bricks were unfamiliar, but EJ Workman rang a bell.

Ye Gods - the new Student Center! Workman Center is in the background.

Subdued construction workers on the roof gaze down at the ground, just seconds after they lost control of a hard hat, which came crashing down and clattered on the ground. This building is in-between Cramer and Weir Halls.

Student residence South Hall used to look like a Motel 6 back in the day. Today, it looks like a La Quinta Motor Inn.

In contrast to South Hall, despite ongoing construction, and some faux southwestern-style roofing material, student residence West Hall looks reassuringly familiar.

The Litigious German Cannibal is Unhappy

"I feel used," he says.

A Tricky Interface: Professional vs. Amateur Theater



Deborah McMillion-Nering sent this wonderful picture from back in the day.

It's around Halloween, 1988, and we are at Sak's 5th Avenue (I believe at the Biltmore Fashion Park, in NE Phoenix, AZ.) Ballet Arizona, under the direction of Jean Paul Comelin, is doing a promotional event for Ballet Arizona's upcoming "Nutcracker." I am at far left, and James Bucanek is at far right. Adjacent to the mouse is Andrea Blankstein: Jennifer Lofgren is regal in her snow costume, and Molly (?) is decked out in flowers.

Unlike many ballet choreographers, and to his great credit, Jean Paul Comelin encouraged interaction between amateur and professional dancers. That interaction is of great educational value for up-and-coming dancers, and as a side benefit, allowed Jean Paul to fill his stage with numerous people in a lavish spectacle.

Nevertheless, it's a tricky place, that twilight netherworld between the amateur and professional spheres. For me, the interaction was disastrous. In first rehearsal of the Soldier/Mice battle, Jean Paul ordered the soldiers to rapidly hustle on-stage from the wings, crawling quickly on elbows and knees. I attacked the stage so hard with my flesh that the skin on my elbows and knees ripped into shreds, covering the stage in blood. To my great regret, since there was no time to heal, I had to leave the production immediately.


Andrea Blankstein has gone on to greater things, however.

ANDREA BLANKSTEIN (Dancer) was born in Boras, Sweden. Ms. Blankstein began her ballet training with Mary Moe Adams at Adams Ballet Academy in Tempe, Arizona. At the age of sixteen Ms. Blankstein was awarded the Bartholin Prize at the Bartholin International Ballet Seminar in Copenhagen, Denmark. Upon the invitation of Peter Schaufuss she joined the Deutsche Oper Berlin in Germany where she danced a wide range of ballets and roles including a pas de trois created for her by Bill T. Jones and Candide in Sleeping Beauty by Peter Schaufuss. Ms. Blankstein joined the Cleveland San Jose Ballet upon her return to the United States, later joining Ballet Arizona, and has recently performed as a guest artist with the Milwaukee Ballet Company. Ms. Blankstein regularly teaches at Adams Ballet Academy and the Jordan Center for the Arts.

And James Bucanek still inhabits the twilight netherworld, teaching at times at Mary Moe Adam's Ballet Academy in Mesa, AZ, but given the less-welcoming attitude of management at Ballet Arizona (under the direction of Ib Anderson) towards amateur dancers, James is no longer involved with Ballet Arizona productions. But there are always creative outlets, no matter what: James just authored a computer textbook entitled "Beginning Xcode", which will be available soon at Amazon.com, among other places.

Fate

I always thought I'd die by being struck by a bus while absent-mindedly crossing the street, but this fate seems far more likely:

Rose's husband believes she fell while looking for the phone in the house this week and suffocated. There were so many piles of items that the man did not realize she was dead in the home.

Shelton Police Chief Terry Davenport said the home was so cluttered that police officers' heads touched the ceiling as they climbed over the clutter.

And the home was so cluttered that police didn't see the woman until their second search of the home.

Wow!

Murdoch bought Myspace, and now they are censoring what people write on it! That is SO Fox News! What a terrible, terrible shame! I envied what they had done there. Now people have got to decide for themselves whether to stay or leave.