700 Sundays

Caught the dress rehearsal for the Toronto engagement of Billy Crystal's Tony winning one man show 700 Sundays last night. I had high expectations. I'm a fan. In fact, I own Mr. Saturday Night on DVD. Nobody liked that movie. That is how highly I think of Billy Crystal.

700 Sundays is described as a one-person performance / autobiographical journey in which Crystal plays numerous characters that have influenced who he is today. It deals with his childhood, his teenage years, and finally adulthood.

The writing is sharp and moving at once with the only slight misstep happening during a moment that makes fun of President Bush and feels forced. Don't get me wrong, it's funny and I'm all for making fun at the expense of the POTUS these days, but it just doesn't sit right within the, let's say "fabric" of the show.

The most interesting thing about this show is that I think everyone who sees it will find something in the story or performance that makes them think "Billy Crystal wrote this show just for me". For a lot of folks it will be finding common ground in the stories about his Jewish upbringing. For others it will be the stories of loss and love. For me, it's the Yankees, Jazz and Comedy. Three of the things that I happen to be most passionate about are three of the things Billy Crystal feels passionate about. Common ground. A wonderful way to build a connection with your audience.

in addition, Billy Crystal displays the type of effortless, easygoing rapport with the audience that many performers can strive a lifetime to perfect, proving himself a genuine theatre star. He learned well from Sammy Davis Jr.

This is truly masterful storytelling. How he will be able to concentrate given the state of the pennant race and the impending high holidays, I'll never know, but the man's a pro. I loved every minute of it and plan to go back for opening night tonight.

700 Sundays runs for only 12 performances at Toronto's Canon Theatre.
Tickets are available through Ticketking at 416-872-1212.

24601

Attended the opening night of the latest production of Les Mis to hit Toronto last week with the always delightful Zeenoixy. The cast was amazing, I am happy to report (especially since that is not always the case with road companies). The swish after party, which was held at the theatre, boasted food stations with comical if somewhat questionable signage. The "Jean Valjean stolen bread sandwich station"?! Had me laughing and the brisket was delish!

If you're like me and you were a theatre geek and in high school when this show was in its heyday, taking it in again would be a fun trip down memory lane. I became flush with embarrassment half-way through the first act when I remembered that I had written 24601 as my student number in my agenda book. Ugh...."At the end of the Day" you're another day older and still a big 'ol geek!

"Mmmm...he nice...me likey!"

107 years ago today in Brooklyn, the one and only George Gershwin was born.



In 1910, the Gershwins had acquired a piano for Ira's music lessons, but younger brother George took over, successfully playing by ear. Now that the Robeau and I are proud owners of a beautiful new piano perhaps the same thing will happen at our house. We thought Bernie the wonder cat would be the one with all the musical talent (she has perfect pitch) but Pickles is the one that sits on the bench next to the Robeau when he plays...

This Pennant Race has me OUT OF BREATH!

To prevent myself from blathering on and on I am including an excerpt from todays New York Times. This time of year is so difficult and so exhilarating if you are interested in baseball more for the human stories than for the numbers. Sigh!

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September 26, 2005
With Next Stage Uncertain, Williams Takes Bow
By JOE LAPOINTE

At the plate, the important contributions were made by Gary Sheffield, who hit a three-run homer in the eighth inning, and Robinson Cano, who hit a two-run shot in the seventh, to help the Yankees in their come-from-behind 8-4 victory yesterday over the Toronto Blue Jays at Yankee Stadium.

("Bernie Williams!" the fans chanted. "Bernie Williams!")

On the mound, the star of the afternoon was pitcher Chien-Ming Wang, a rookie like Cano, who worked seven innings, only one of them bad, to improve to 8-4.

("Thank you, Bernie!" the fans chanted. "Thank you, Bernie!")

And on paper, the important numbers showed that the Yankees' victory - their 12th in their past 14 games - matched Boston's victory at Baltimore to keep the Yankees tied with the Red Sox for first place in the American League East with one week remaining in the regular season as the ancient rivals battle for the divisional pennant and the wild-card playoff berth.

("One more year!" the fans chanted to Williams. "One more year!")

But when it was over - with the team packed for its seven-game trip to Baltimore and Boston, the rookies dressed as cheerleaders as part of their initiation and the music of "Last Dance" playing on the clubhouse stereo - the biggest gathering in the happy room was not around Sheffield, Cano or Wang.

It was around Williams, who went only 1 for 4 with an infield hit. In 15 seasons, Williams has established himself as the third-best center fielder in more than a century of Yankees history, behind only Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle.

Batting .251 at age 37, his skills fading, Williams may be near the end of his career, or at least the Yankees phase of it. He has no contract for next season.

Because yesterday's game was the last home game of the regular season, and playoff participation is not a certainty for the Yankees, the crowd of 55,136 turned fan appreciation day into an unofficial Bernie Williams appreciation day.

Along with the chanting was a sign hung from the mezzanine directed at George Steinbrenner: "Boss: Bring Bernie Back." The fans cheered Williams's every move, and the cheering intensified before the bottom of the eighth inning, when the scoreboard showed a video of Williams highlights.

Alex Rodriguez, leading off, stayed out of the batters box long enough for teammates to coax Williams from the dugout for a wave to the fans. "He didn't want to go out and take a little bow," Manager Joe Torre said. "He looked at me to see if it was O.K. I gave him a little nod."

Over the previous 10 seasons, Williams had helped the Yankees make the playoffs every year, four of them ending in World Series championships. With 2,213 hits in a career of excellence and elegance, he is one behind DiMaggio, who is fourth in team history behind Lou Gehrig (2,721), Babe Ruth (2,518) and Mantle (2,415).

A Love Supreme

Today marks what would have been John Coltrane's 79th birthday and it is as good a time as any to ponder just what it is that makes the man and his music so very special to so many people.

I first heard Trane in the 12th grade, on the 1992 soundtrack to Spike Lee's Malcolm X. Spike used Alabama, to great effect, as background music for a scene late in the film where Malcolm watched television footage of the civil rights movement from his hotel room. I say background music, but the truth is the music was right there in the fore and had as much to do with the success of that scene as Denzel Washington's subtle and powerful acting. This introduction lead me to a slight obsession with the soundtrack (repeat track 9) and a subsequent purchase of a Greatest Hits compilation on cassette tape. I spent an entire summer annoying even my most tolerant friends with the more "outside" stuff on that cassette but kept plugging away. There was something fascinating about this music, even the stuff that didn't appeal to me right away. I really believe that music you have to work to enjoy is, in the end, a much more rewarding experience.

Like everyone I ultimately made my way to A Love Supreme and am as attached to that piece of music as is probably possible. I can't even articulate why. Maybe there is something about music like this that is so personal, music that the artist has so completely given himself to - that it in turn, touches the listener in a deeply personal way. People use the word spiritual a lot and that is appropriate as anything, really.

"You gotta be willing to get up there and DIE for a motherfucker" was Elvin Jones explanation for the sound he created as drummer with Trane's quartet along with McCoy Tyner on piano and Jimmy Garrison on bass. Willing to die while you search for musical and spiritual freedom.

Enjoy a short (poor quality) sample below, the just over 2 minute version of Alabama that began my relationship with Trane's music. If you are new to Trane also check out his work as a sideman with the great vocalist Johnny Hartman, specifically on the Strayhorn tune, Lush Life which is restrained and beautiful and allows even more insight to the full scope of what he was capable of as a musician.

If you are in Toronto this weekend The Rex is hosting their annual celebration of Trane September 22nd - 24th at 9:30pm. Toronto sax player Pat LaBarbara who worked with Elvin Jones for many years is joined by a great line up of musicians. It's a wonderful tradition and well worth checking out.

2005 Film Fest Wrap Up

The 2005 edition of the Toronto International Film Festival has come and gone - almost a week later I've got some thoughts on the ten films I took in this year, in order of appearance.














SARAH SILVERMAN: JESUS IS MAGIC

Caustic and beautiful New York based comic Sarah Silverman brought her one woman show to the screen and to opening night of the fest for the midnight madness crowd. I love Silverman's work and doubt, quite honestly, that anything she could have put on film would have disappointed me. She was in attendance and did a very witty Q&A after the show. During said Q&A someone asked why after mocking blacks, asians, handicapped, midgets and the elderly, did she not go after fat people. Her response? “Oh, they’re sensitive.” It’s all in the delivery. When she was onstage introducing the film some young lovestruck boy yells out "I love you Sarah" - "I love you too" she replied, and then, after a long beat mused out loud "No, I don't". Simple, crisp and vintage Sarah Silverman. The film itself which is essentially a concert film interspersed with sketch and song, directed by Mr. Show alumn Liam Lynch, will probably not make wide release but it will have a life on HBO or Comedy Central and on DVD.

LIZA WITH A 'Z'

"Come with me. It's 1972 and my hands were shaking just the way they are right now. A bunch of people who really loved eachother have come together to...entertain. It's that night, you are backstage at the Orpheum Theatre...come with me...." Yowza, does Liza Minnelli know how to introduce a movie, or what? Then, in the dark Elgin Theatre, a woman I never met in my life dug her fingernails into my arm and whispered "I'm sooooo excited!". Liza Minnelli touches people. What was most amazing about this screening of the Bob Fosse directed made for TV concert film (which is newly restored) is that it felt like we were really at a concert, watching a live show. People cheered and applauded after every number. It was electric and magical. Minnelli and a pack of Producers did a very lengthy Q&A after the show which will be featured as bonus material when the concert film is released on DVD. Minnelli showed herself to be funny and endearing and Fosse's work, both as a choreographer and a director of stage and film was, in a word, flawless.

SORRY, HATERS

Writer and Director Jeff Stanzler's film is set against the anxieties and fears of post-9/11 New York where an Arab cab driver (Abdel Kechiche) picks up a troubled professional woman (Robin Wright Penn) with, let's say, unexpected results. Both actors do an incredible job creating characters that are real and compelling and in Wright Penn's case very, very scary. The film's pacing troubled me, especially the ending which felt sort of anticlimactic and rushed, but overall it's a nice piece of work and worth seeing. Sandra Oh has a small role, and is amazing. When I think about this movie now, it is her performance I think of. She doesn't have a lot of screen time but she creates a likeable and above all believable character that has stayed with me in a way that has totally taken me by surprise.

WINTER PASSING

Theatre vet Adam Rapp's Writing and Directing debut for film feels very much like someone's first effort. The very capable Zooey Deschanel, who played Will Ferrell's love interest in Elf, stars as Reese, a young woman living the bohemian actor's life in New York City. She's painfully unhappy (one night stands, cocaine, masochism and, I'm not kidding, feline leukemia all effect her mood). Reese is offered a small fortune by a book editor if she can secure for publication the love letters that her father (Ed Harris), a reclusive novelist, wrote to her mother, who has since committed suicide. Returning to Michigan, Reese finds that an ex-grad student (Amelia Warner) and a would-be Christian Rock musician (Will Ferrell) have moved in with her father and...hilarity ensues! Well, no, hilarity does not ensue. Well, yes, it does, in Ferrell's scenes, but as my viewing companion pointed out "he seemed like he was in another movie". At first I thought perhaps her opinion was being coloured by past performances and then I realized she was probably right and it was just that I would have rather been watching the "other movie" that Ferrel was performing in. The self indulgent depressed characters in Winter Passing made me flashback to when I first saw the musical Rent on stage and wanted to get up and SCREAM at the stage "Get a JOB and PAY your RENT!!!!"

SHOPGIRL

The story follows Mirabelle (Claire Danes), a disenchanted salesgirl and aspiring artist based in LA and the two men in her life wealthy divorcee Ray Porter (Steve Martin) and struggling graphic designer Jeremy (Jason Schwartman). Based on Martin's novella of the same name and Directed by Anand Tucker, Shopgirl is a nice example of the emotional weight that comedy writers can create when they choose to work on more "serious" material. The performances are all stellar and the direction, while not perfect (there is one musical montage that feels like it belongs in a much lesser movie) is fine. I'd recommend this to someone looking for a bittersweet romantic comedy in a heartbeat. Oh, and I heart Steve Martin.

SKETCHES OF FRANK GEHRY

I also heart Frank Gehry, the Toronto born, world famous architect. Sketches of Frank Gehry is an honest look at the man, his work and his creative process Directed by his friend Sydney Pollock. There really isn't a whole lot more to say than that. If you are the least bit interested in art, architecture or the creative process see this film. Pollock clearly admires Gehry and that shines through in the finished product. Good stuff.

FESTIVAL

Festival is an earthy, black comedy set during the annual Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Various plot strands interweave, including the bitter relationship between a famous self-obsessed British comic and his ever-suffering assistant, an actress debuting at the festival with a one-woman show about Dorothy Wordsworth and a depressed, rich housewife who spies on the stoned Canadian theatre troupe to whom she has rented out her house, all events climaxing with the presentation of the much sought after comedy award. Great character comedy and a fun familiarity for anyone who has ever been involved with a Fringe theatre festival. You know who you are. The film doesn't yet have Canadian distribution so keep your eyes and ears open. Lots of laughs.

CAPOTE

Can I start the Oscar buzz for Phillip Seymour Hoffman here and now please? And while we're at it, Catherine Keener deserves a nod for her portrayal of Capote's friend and author of To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee. Bob Balaban also stands out as New Yorker editor William Shawn (real life father of Wallace Shawn). I must say the moody grey tones of the cinematography were highly appropriate but also wrecked havoc on me almost a week into the Fest when I was sleep deprived and guzzling coffee. The film follows Capote while he researched and wrote In Cold Blood and is at once focused, sharp and moving. I will see it again, when I am less fatigued.

IN HER SHOES

I can't remember the last time I read the book before I saw the movie. I've been reading a lot of non-fiction lately. At any rate, Jennifer Weiner, author of In Her Shoes is one of my faves so I did (read the book before I saw the movie). I loved the book, the characters are relatable and funny and the movie delivers 100%. The three lead actresses are all wonderful and this is sure to be a fine, fat hit - I recommend it and the book (or any of Weiner's other books including the just-released-this-week Goodnight Nobody). Fun trivia: portions of this film were shot on the same soundstage as what could very well be my favourite movie of all time The Apartment, making this a homecoming of sorts for Shirley MacLaine. If men are concerned that this is merely a "chick flick" don't worry about it. Director Curtis Hanson (LA Confidential, The Wonder Boys and 8 Mile) sees to it that it does not descend down treacle lane.

U-CARMEN eKHAYELITSHA

Wow! Great singing! Yikes! Shitty Libretto! This take on Bizet's Carmen, set in a modern-day South African township had immense potential but fell flat. Ultimately I walked away thinking, if you are going to do Carmen, do Carmen or if you are going to tell your own stories, tell your own stories. Make up your mind. Not recommended.

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As always, the Fest is a treat. I love the atmosphere, the line ups, the sleep deprivation, the minor changes in the weather, the coffee in a cardboard cup and I look forward to doing it all again next year!

Rawk. Part II.

Damn. Television has the power to be both so brilliant and so very, very stoooopid. Came home after a really fun dinner tonight, flicked on the TV and saw that CBS is making a mini series, which will air later this year about Pope John Paul II (aka JP2). "Look at the amazing resemblance this actor has to the Pope" Mary Hart cooes. I laugh out loud and say to Bernie the wonder cat "Yeah, right, looks more like Jon Voight". Turns out is WAS Jon Voight. Then, as if things couldn't get weirder "Midnight Pontiff" decides that he is going to do the whole interview in his somewhat questionable Polish accent. Seriously, what the hell?! I can't decide if I'm scared or amused. Amused, I think, but it is hard to tell the difference sometimes.

That is pretty much how I felt when I first tuned in to ROCKSTAR INXS earlier this television season. Then, much to my dismay, I got hooked. I was INVESTED EMOTIONALLY by the time the finale aired last night and nobody was more surprised by that then me. The thing is, I can be a wee bit of snob about TV sometimes. I am its greatest defender most of the time, but I also lean towards "quality" television like Homicide: Life on the Street, The West Wing and Charlie Rose. You have to break it down and ask: what does all great television have in common? Answer: good storytelling. And there is no better manipulator of "real" human stories these days then Mark Burnette. It's taken me a few years to come to this realization, but there is good reality tv and not-so-good reality tv. If the "Big Brother" franchise is to television what "The Enquirer" is to the print media, then Burnette's programs, like Rockstar INXS are In Style Magazine or Toronto Life, even. It's not The New Yorker or Harpers but it's still worth reading and fun, to boot. Burnette is a master at creating suspense and characters that you both care about and dislike (am I the only viewer that wanted to SLAP Jordis?). Also, bonus points to Burnette for putting only singers who could actually sing in a singing contest (ahem, Idol!) and choosing contestants who were not children. Most all of the Rockers were in their 30's and had the talent and baggage that goes with that...which equals, you got it, good storytelling.

The first "Rocker" that I became attached to was Ty. You remember Ty? The charismatic black guy with the mohawk that just about everyone in the free world found "cheesy"? Whatever. Like it is news to me that my tastes run towards cheese. After Ty got axed I took a liking to Suzie, from Toronto who really is sweet and has great pipes, and JD, from New Glasgow, Nova Scotia. The weird part is that New Glasgow is my family's home town. I was born in Toronto but I spent the two longest weeks of my life in New Glasgow when I was 13 years old and I can say with complete sincerity that New Glasgow, while it has its charms, is the last place in the world someone who has "front rock band" as the goal on the top line of their resume would want to be. JD wanted this job more than any of the other contestants and it felt like sweet, sweet justice when he won last night. Good for him. May he live out his days in a LA mans with a keg of Alexander Keith's Pale Ale at the ready and ladies all around. He's a hell of a singer, a showman and I applaud him. Rock on, JD. Rock on.

Tonight I will go back to the boob tube and check out Mark Burnette's next offering The Apprentice: Martha Stewart. Too sinfully delicious to ignore.

Rawk.

Genre-leaping jazz icon Miles Davis heads the list of 2005 candidates for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.




We know that Miles changed the face of jazz several times and helped usher in the jazz-rock fusion movement. He has also been a key influence on a wide array of non-jazz artists, including Prince, Pearl Jam drummer Matt Cameron (who knew?), Who leader Pete Townshend and the members of Radiohead, whose landmark album, "OK Computer," was greatly inspired by Davis' epic fusion album, "Bitches Brew."

So, OK, why not? Guess I'd be more excited if I really cared about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Something tells me Miles would have appreciated it. He always wanted to stay hip and current. John Coltrane has never been inducted which seems like a shocking oversight to me. Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton have both been inducted as "early influences" which seems appropriate.

Dr. John was nominated too, but didn't make the cut. Thank goodness. Dr. John doesn't do it for me. You know what I say to Dr. John? "You're not a Doctor, SHUT UP!" That is what I say to Dr. John.

Keeping Time

Saving America's Soul Kitchen
repoduced from Time Magazine

How to bring this country together? Listen to the message of New Orleans By WYNTON MARSALIS

Now the levee breach has been fixed. The people have been evacuated. Army Corps of Engineers magicians will pump the city dry, and the slow (but quicker than we think) job of rebuilding will begin. Then there will be no 24-hour news coverage. The spin doctors' narrative will create a wall of illusion thicker than the new levees. The job of turning our national disaster into sound-bite-size commercials with somber string music will be left to TV. The story will be sanitized as our nation's politicians congratulate themselves on a job well done. Americans of all stripes will demonstrate saintly concern for one another. It's what we do in a crisis.

This tragedy, however, should make us take an account of ourselves. We should not allow the mythic significance of this moment to pass without proper consideration. Let us assess the size of this cataclysm in cultural terms, not in dollars and cents or politics. Americans are far less successful at doing that because we have never understood how our core beliefs are manifest in culture--and how culture should guide political and economic realities. That's what the city of New Orleans can now teach the nation again as we are all forced by circumstance to literally come closer to one another. I say teach us again, because New Orleans is a true American melting pot: the soul of America. A place freer than the rest of the country, where elegance met an indefinable wildness to encourage the flowering of creative intelligence. Whites, Creoles and Negroes were strained, steamed and stewed in a thick, sticky, below-sea-level bowl of musky gumbo. These people produced an original cuisine, an original architecture, vibrant communal ceremonies and an original art form: jazz.

Their music exploded irrepressibly from the forced integration of these castes to sweep the world as the definitive American art form. New Orleans, the Crescent City, the Big Easy--home of Mardi Gras, the second-line parade, the po' boy sandwich, the shotgun house--is so many people's favorite city. But not favorite enough to embrace the integrated superiority of its culture as a national objective. Not favorite enough to digest the gift of supersized soul internationally embodied by the great Louis Armstrong. Over time, New Orleans became known as the national center for frat-party-type decadence and (yeah, boy) great food. The genuine greatness of Armstrong is reduced to his good nature; his artistic triumphs are unknown to all but a handful. So it's time to consider, as we rebuild this great American city, exactly what this bayou metropolis symbolizes for the U.S.

New Orleans has a habit of tweaking the national consciousness at pivotal times. The last foreign invasion on U.S. soil was repelled in the Crescent City in 1815. The Union had an important early victory over the South with the capture of the Big Easy in 1862. Homer Plessy, a black New Orleanian, fought for racial equality in 1896, although it took our Supreme Court 58 years to agree with him and, with Brown v. Board of Education, to declare segregation unequal. Martin Luther King's Southern Christian Leadership Conference was formally organized in New Orleans in 1957. The problem is that we, all us Americans, have a tendency to rise in that moment of need, but when that moment passes, we fall back again.

The images of a ruined city make it clear that we need to rebuild New Orleans. The images of people stranded, in shock, indicate that we need to rebuild a community. The images of all sorts of Americans aiding these victims speak of the size of our hearts. But this time we need to look a little deeper. Let's use the resurrection of the city to reacquaint the country with the gift of New Orleans: a multicultural community invigorated by the arts. Forget about tolerance. What about embracing. This tragedy implores us to re-examine the soul of America. Our democracy from its very beginnings has been challenged by the shackles of slavery. The parade of black folks across our TV screens asking, as if ghosts, "Have you seen my father, mother, sister, brother?" reconnects us all to the still unfulfilled goals of the Reconstruction era. We always back away from fixing our nation's racial problems. Not fixing the city's levees before Katrina struck will now cost us untold billions. Not resolving the nation's issues of race and class has and will cost us so much more.


Wynton Marsalis, the jazz trumpeter and artistic director of New York City's Jazz at Lincoln Center, was born and raised in New Orleans
From 9/19/05 Time Magazine

Bush Takes Responsibility...sort of

"Katrina exposed serious problems in our response capability at all levels of government, and to the extent that the federal government didn't fully do its job right, I take responsibility."

To the extent.

Nice.

Sharia: On Feminism, Secularism and Human Rights

Before I descend head first into the froth and frivolity of the 30th Annual Toronto International Film Festival, I'm going to take a moment for one more short rant. One more kick at the can for feminism, secularism and human rights.

Lest I give anyone the impression that the only elected officials who screw up reside South of the Canadian border, on Tuesday Premiere Dalton McGuinty said women’s rights ‘will not be compromised’ if Ontario allows Muslims to use Sharia law to settle family legal matters such as divorce and child custody. I don't buy it.

Sharia is the Arabic word for Islamic law, also known as the Law of Allah. Islam classically draws no distinction between religious and secular life. Hence Sharia covers not only religious rituals, but many aspects of day-to-day life, politics, economics, banking, business or contract law, and social issues.

Canada has always been a welcoming place. A tolerant place. a place where persecuted people can come and find safety and a better life. All indications are that Sharia inherently conflicts with the basic freedoms guaranteed Canadians.

The government of Ontario is now set to legitimize oppression, inequality and injustice in the name of respecting other cultures. Turns out there can be such a thing as "too tolerant".

I'm no constitutional scholar or theological expert but I'm left to wonder - whatever happened to the seperation of Church and State?

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Good news!

September 12, 2005

McGuinty says 'No' to sharia law

In a surprise announcement that caught both supporters and opponents of sharia law off guard, Premier Dalton McGuinty says he will move quickly to ban all religious arbitration in the province.

Brownie Points

President Bush, facing a political crisis over the government's handling of relief efforts in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, announced yesterday that he would lead his own investigation of what went wrong.

Yeah, sure, OK. Judge. Jury. And one assumes, Grande Marshall of his very own "not guilty" parade. Goodie!

Meanwhile, today, angry residents of the region tell the Veep to "Go fuck himself". It is still unclear why Dick was down there. On a humanitarian sight-seeing tour or making sure everything was in order for Haliburton and their big exclusive clean up contract. Yuck.

Man of the hour, embattled and suddenly invisible (where's he at?!) FEMA Director Michael "Brownie" Brown is still in place and the fact is, even if Bush did fire his buddy, the bureaucrat immediately below him is no disaster professional, either.

While Brownie ran horse shows, FEMA's number two man, Deputy Director and Chief of Staff Patrick Rhode (Rhodie?), was an advance man for the Bush-Cheney campaign and White House. Rhode's biography posted on FEMA's Web site doesn't indicate he has any real experience in emergency response.

In addition, the agency's former third-ranking official, Deputy Chief of Staff Scott Morris (Scottie?), was a PR expert who worked for Maverick Media, the Texas outfit that produced TV and radio spots for the Bush-Cheney campaign. In June, Morris moved to Florida to become FEMA's long-term recovery director.

Mannhattan Dem, Rep. Carolyn Maloney (Bitchie?) put it nicely -

"The Bush administration has apparently transformed FEMA from a professional, world-class emergency responder into a dumping ground for former campaign staff and political hacks"

The more that comes to light here, the more I am convinced that Brownie is less to blame than W. If there is any justice this scandal will result in a real inquiry, an impeachment and Bush will ultimately be the architect of his own demise. And he's done a heck of a job at it.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Back to School

You have to wonder - how many years does it take to get over that "back to school" feeling the day after labour day? I woke up this morning worried I wouldn't have enough sharp pencils, unsure of what to wear and reminding myself to find a desk that wasn't at the front of the class or the back of the class, but somewhere in the middle.

I haven't been in school for 12 years.

I'm not someone who makes new years resolutions. I find that first hint of fall and a new pencil case inspires change in me much more than a hangover and an eighty percent chance of snow. I'm not going to share any of my new school year resolutions with you because I've decided that it's not my lack of sticktoitiveness that thwarts my resolutions. It's telling people what they are. It's like blowing out the candles on your birthday cake or wishing on a star. Best to keep your hopes secret.

I will tell you this though. I hope that in the new school year I don't have to deal with any more hangnails like the one I have on my right thumb right now. Damn hangnail is so severe, I feel like it requires stitches. Youch.

The Power of Celebrity

It's hard to fathom that the show biz folks were able to throw together a benefit concert for live broadcast on network television before FEMA or the National Gaurd could do anything of note, isn't it?



As outraged as I've been by what I've seen the last couple of days, I don't think I've felt any emotion about this situation other than that. Seeing Harry Connick Jr. so ragged and rough around the edges, so heartbroken took care of that. The sound of Wynton Marsalis and his glorious trumpet cuts you to the core. They are beautiful, defiant and strong. And the thing is, they speak my language. These are "my people". Here I sit, experiencing the power of celebrity, right? These men who I admire as artists, who I have seen perform live countless times, and Wynton who I had the absolute pleasure of meeting and conversing with, allow the magnitude of this event to finally hit home. It might make me feel a little shallow, but there is no denying the impact.

Musically, I just thought it was wonderful to behold. Wynton was so perfectly sparse on Do You Know What it Means...and Harry's Vocal was great, even though he was losing his voice. I love to hear singers perform under limitations like that. For every Joe Williams or Ella who sounded even better as they aged, there is a John Hendricks whose instrument seems to have been compromised but who manages to become a more interesting singer despite that. It was a pleasure to see Harry make the thing work.

This is much bigger than the music, but New Orleans was so much about the music, it seems acceptable to discuss somehow. "New Orleans was". Damn.

KanYe West's outburst was difficult. It seemed like his heart was in the right place, but I couldn't help but think that it was just highly innapropriate. That would be the staid Canadian in me, I guess. The thing is, it was brave what he did, and if not then...when? I don't know. I will admit that I did giggle as Mike Meyers stood there next to him, trying to maintain some dignity and keep it together. I mean Wynton and Harry I felt connected to, but Meyers, hell, he IS one of my people. Literally. Pasty white Torontonian in the comedy business. Slam dunk!

I wonder how my people would all fair in a disaster?

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There are a couple of ways that I have decided to give, which are more personal and meaningful to me. We all have to find our ways to chip in, but if you're like me, as a pet lover, it breaks your heart to see the animals that have been left behind. You can donate through The

Humane Society Disaster Relief Fund

Jazz lovers and members of the music community who want to help their own can send money directly to those affected. The wonderful Irvin Mayfield, founder of the New Orleans Jazz Orchestra, is accepting donations for local musicians. All donations can be sent c/o:

Irvin Mayfield
PO Box # 82385
Baton Rouge, LA
USA
708842385

I will be holding a used clothing drive at my office. If you are in the Toronto area and would like to give, email me at misstraceynolan@hotmail.com and I will give you the details.

Do you know what it means to Miss New Orleans?

Is it wrong that I wouldn't be at all surprised if President Bush arranged to have BIBLES dropped from helicopters instead of food and water and medical aid? Save yourselves sinners! Save yourselves from the ultimate sins - being poor and being black.

Is it wrong that I can't imagine this administration would have let rich white people wait on their roofs for five whole days?

Is it wrong that it seems to me that in New Orleans Black folks loot, while White folks "find" things at the grocery store that's been closed for two days? Thanks mainstream MEDIA!

Is it wrong that the fact that the Christian Right's theory that "god" is smiting the gambling, baby killing, poor black folks because the satellite view of Katrina resembled a six week old "fetus" (um, consult your science books Christian Right, it's an embryo at six weeks) is it WRONG that this makes me want to stick Pat Robertson in the Astrodome to sit in his own poop for a few days and see how it feels?

Yeah. That's probably wrong.