Last week, I participated in a form of collaborative creative engagement that contributed to building cultural community. In lay terms: I played music with a band in a bar for beer.
My fellow music-makers and I (a.k.a. Bourbon Jockey) appeared at Roots Organic Brewing Company in Southeast Portland. We were the evening headliners, as evidenced by our name written prominently on the chalkboard by the door.
We had fun. We helped the establishment move some beer. The people who left when we started to play were planning to leave anyway, and good riddance to them. We kept the volume to a level that allowed amiable conversation by those who were willing to shout at each other. Friends, family and strangers mixed. No fights broke out.
In addition to myself (intrepid front man), Matthew Jones (on upright bass) and Alan Cole (on other guitar), we were accompanied by a young fellow we call “Conga Dave” on account of not knowing his full name. When we last played at Roots, Alan left the stage in the middle of a tune, announcing “I’m going to see if they have a conga drum somewhere.” He rooted around a storage closet and retrieved said drum, then called one of his Lewis & Clark students up on stage to join us. With that simple act, Bourbon Jockey acquired a drummer. We invited Conga Dave to play along last week, though we neglected to confirm whether the closet at Roots still contained a conga drum. It didn’t, so Dave improvised with a few buckets, a shaker and a tambourine played with his foot. In the parlance of musicologists, he employed idiophones rather than a membranophone, but we don't need to get technical about it.
I pulled some video from the bar's security cameras for the benefit and edification of fans who were too stove up to make it out on Thursday night.
1) This first one is a Tom Waits song from whence we derived our name: “Jockey Full of Bourbon.” Sorry about my massive cabeza filling the frame.
2) This next one captures the Bourbon Jockey spirit. While we were playing, we noticed a lone fellow in the corner playing along on a concertina. He was also dressed as a pirate. We coaxed him out front to join us in an impromptu rendition of the Hank Williams classic, “Jambalaya.”
3) A little blues and testifying, with our version of the T-Bone Walker tune, "Stormy Monday" in which I blow on a harmonica and yell.
4) You're still here? Well then here's our take on "Route 66."
If you're hankering for more (and who wouldn't be?) you can find a few more videos on YouTube. Search for "Bourbon Jockey Roots Brewing" to find them. Or not.
We'll be back sometime in June, so put a hold on your entire calendar for the month. I'll keep you posted.
Showing posts with label Monkey Fightin'. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monkey Fightin'. Show all posts
Of Your Assistance I Implore
Dearest fellow,
I humbly seek your most urgent attention for a matter of most import. To my attention has come news that a musical group of note by which is known as “Bourbon Jockey” will be performing at your city at the soonest Thursday night from this date. It has been my dream of my lifetime to enjoy such musical pleasure in the city of Portland Orgon.
My late-uncle, who was most fortunate to be Minister of Foreign Culture in the nation of Nigeria before his recent death, wished me to have this absurd pleasure. Having wished that for me and to assure such would take place, he placed a sum of $3,000,000 million US dollars in a secret account. This sum to be used to travel me to listen to your Bourbon Jockey, of which I am biggest fan, on May 20, 2010 at Roots Organic Brewing Company.
Having demised unfortunately of an accident, my uncle failed to leave instructions regarding the sending of this money to my account for the purpose of hearing Bourbon Jockey. My remaining relatives which are of evil intention have made to block me from my due right to this sum. More so, I am locked in a closet and prevented from all person contact except by the internets.
Of favor to me and in interest of your enjoyment of fine music, I am implore you to visit the Bourbon Jockey performance on May 20, 2010. It is of my knowledge that Bourbon Jockey makes western music of roots variety for the enjoyment of the people and the drinking of the beer.
I ask of your assistance to please attend this most important event for to write to me describing its wonders after its completion. This way I will have enjoyment too. Also, it would be of true assistance to also send me your bank account number and all codes which are necessary for making it of access to me.
For learning more, one may read of the famous Bourbon Jockey in this writing of blog from many months ago.
For learning more, one may read of the famous Bourbon Jockey in this writing of blog from many months ago.
Sincerely and with honest hope,
Mrs. Martha Kwesi Ubunde
WHO: BOURBON JOCKEY featuring Mighty Toy Cannon
WHEN: Thursday, May 20, 2010. From 8:00-ish to Whenever-ish
WHERE: Roots Organic Brewing Co., 1530 SE 7th, Portland OR
HOW: By the plucking of stringed instruments, vocalization and blowing of reeds.
WHY: Why not? You know you want to.
WHO, EXACTLY, IS BOURBON JOCKEY?
Ross McKeen (aka Mighty Toy Cannon): Vocal, Guitar, Harmonica
Matthew Jones (aka Mr. Jones): Bass
Alan Jones (aka The Perfesser): Guitar and harmony vocals
+ Mystery Guest Percussionist known only as Conga Dave
Be There or Be Square
Ladies & Gentlemen
Aficionados of Fine Music and Satisfying Beer
Members of the Press
Step forward and prepare to be dazzled, stunned and stupefied as The Mighty Toy Cannon and the members of the acclaimed musical ensemble, Bourbon Jockey, regale you with feats of vocal virtuosity and strumming of stringed instruments in a manner most astonishing. Step back, there's no need to push, shove or jostle--there will be plenty of room for all of you without raising a ruckus.
Should you choose to partake of a Bourbon Jockey performance, you will be transported on a journey down lost highways and dusty byways of America where you will meet truck drivers, libertine women and deadbeat desperados in the throes of drunken sorrow. Accompanied by the joyous amalgam of melody, harmony and rhythm, you will be besotted by tales of heartbreak and redemption, hope and despair. The bass notes will rumble deep in your bowels whilst the high notes shall pierce the veil of heaven and wrap you as if by the gossamer wings of the very angels themselves.
FEAR NOT brave spectator! The burden of sadness and introspection thus launched in your heart and mind may be soothed by quaffing ales concocted through the alchemical magic of the artisans of Roots Organic Brewing Company of Southeast Portland, Oregon and poured with the steady hand of attentive servers dedicated to ministering to your needs and lubricating your parched throat with AMBROSIA.
How much would you expect to pay for an evening of entertainment that lifts the soul while edifying in such a potent fashion? What price the opportunity to hear stirring tales of sin and transgression without suffering the searing heat of BRIMSTONE upon your own reddened cheeks?
FEAR NOT brave spectator! The burden of sadness and introspection thus launched in your heart and mind may be soothed by quaffing ales concocted through the alchemical magic of the artisans of Roots Organic Brewing Company of Southeast Portland, Oregon and poured with the steady hand of attentive servers dedicated to ministering to your needs and lubricating your parched throat with AMBROSIA.
How much would you expect to pay for an evening of entertainment that lifts the soul while edifying in such a potent fashion? What price the opportunity to hear stirring tales of sin and transgression without suffering the searing heat of BRIMSTONE upon your own reddened cheeks?
Would you not gladly drop a treasury note adorned with the visage of Andrew Jackson into a collection plate for such a privilege? Would you not swoon upon being informed that the only cost of this extravaganza is the humble sacrifice of a token contribution--that is to say that the entry fee is just one thin dime? Two nickels are enough to swing aside the turnstile and afford you the opportunity to partake in the dulcet tones of this renowned ensemble of chamber players steeped in the vernacular of American roots music.
Would you not be further stunned to learn that this meager fee --one-tenth of an American dollar!--were to be fully and unconditionally rebated to you immediately, such that the true cost of this once-in-a-lifetime event is NOT A SINGLE PENNY (as long as you fully commit in your heart within the next ten minutes)?
Yes, you have not misheard us, ladies and gentlemen. But let us repeat this message for the weak-minded and slow of hearing: For the price of a small portion of your leisure and sporting time, you can experience one of the most FASCINATING and CURIOUS musical experiences of the year—indeed of your entire lifetime. Many years hence, your great-grandchildren will gather around your deathbed imploring you to sacrifice your FINAL breath to tell them about the night you heard Mighty Toy Cannon and Bourbon Jockey perform at Roots Organic Brewing Company in the early weeks of the year of Two Aught Ten. Can you fathom the ignomy of admitting to your progeny that you stayed home that evening to watch television?
Don’t take our word for it, heed the insights of others who have bathed in the euphonious river of glorious sound produced by this remarkable conspiracy of musical genius:
“I liked it. It was fun, I guess. The beer was real good. The band looked like they were having fun. I have to get up early tomorrow morning,” said one delighted spectator as he left the venue in the middle of Bourbon Jockey’s penultimate public performance last year.
“They seem to be having a good time up there,” reported another audience member as she plugged her ears, presumably to forestall an overload of joyous goodwill.
Another dumbstruck listener said, “I don’t know what to say. I guess I'll fall back on something my daddy always used to say, ‘Judge not, lest ye be judged.’ I mean, who am I to define what’s good? Look, I could tell you that it wasn’t horrible, but that’s really all I feel comfortable saying right now. Why are you writing this down? I liked the beer and the servers were nice. The band did seem to be having fun, and it’s not like I had anything better to do.”
One long-time fan proffers this advice: “Try to get there early in the set because the singer seems to forget the lyrics the later it gets. Unless you like a lot of humming, you might want to arrive before they’re all drunk, though there’s a better choice of seats after the first fifteen minutes.”
If you doubt the wisdom of your neighbors and common citizens, listen to what the experts have to say. Ethnomusicologist Humphrey Von Humphrey said this after listening to an acetate recording of Bourbon Jockey:
In an unpublished review, a noted cultural critic declared, "It's as if T-Bone Walker and Hank Williams had a baby. And that baby was born with withered arms and something wrong with its soft palate and was raised by, gosh I don't know, Patsy Cline. And maybe it has a hugely swollen tongue or something. Oh, and the baby is drunk too. Forget the baby analogy ... it's more like if Howling Wolf and George Jones were arm wrestling while Fats Domino and Fats Waller argued over which one of the two was fatter. Never mind. There's just a lot going on during a Bourbon Jockey concert and these are grown men who should know better."
Important Details:
Bourbon Jockey
Thursday, January 7, 2009
Yes, you have not misheard us, ladies and gentlemen. But let us repeat this message for the weak-minded and slow of hearing: For the price of a small portion of your leisure and sporting time, you can experience one of the most FASCINATING and CURIOUS musical experiences of the year—indeed of your entire lifetime. Many years hence, your great-grandchildren will gather around your deathbed imploring you to sacrifice your FINAL breath to tell them about the night you heard Mighty Toy Cannon and Bourbon Jockey perform at Roots Organic Brewing Company in the early weeks of the year of Two Aught Ten. Can you fathom the ignomy of admitting to your progeny that you stayed home that evening to watch television?
Don’t take our word for it, heed the insights of others who have bathed in the euphonious river of glorious sound produced by this remarkable conspiracy of musical genius:
“I liked it. It was fun, I guess. The beer was real good. The band looked like they were having fun. I have to get up early tomorrow morning,” said one delighted spectator as he left the venue in the middle of Bourbon Jockey’s penultimate public performance last year.
“They seem to be having a good time up there,” reported another audience member as she plugged her ears, presumably to forestall an overload of joyous goodwill.
Another dumbstruck listener said, “I don’t know what to say. I guess I'll fall back on something my daddy always used to say, ‘Judge not, lest ye be judged.’ I mean, who am I to define what’s good? Look, I could tell you that it wasn’t horrible, but that’s really all I feel comfortable saying right now. Why are you writing this down? I liked the beer and the servers were nice. The band did seem to be having fun, and it’s not like I had anything better to do.”
One long-time fan proffers this advice: “Try to get there early in the set because the singer seems to forget the lyrics the later it gets. Unless you like a lot of humming, you might want to arrive before they’re all drunk, though there’s a better choice of seats after the first fifteen minutes.”
If you doubt the wisdom of your neighbors and common citizens, listen to what the experts have to say. Ethnomusicologist Humphrey Von Humphrey said this after listening to an acetate recording of Bourbon Jockey:
Their harmonies are wholly unique, not only within our traditional concepts of western music but, verily, to the entirety of world culture. Their choices of harmonic intervals – and their apparent ease in shifting those intervals at a microtonal level from moment-to-moment is astonishing. I can safely say that I’ve never heard anything quite like it. The jarring and unexpected microtonal dissonance carries into their instrumental work as well. I’m telling you that it is physically impossible to get that particular sound unless you intentionally fail to tune your instruments relative to each other. Of course, that would be crazy!
Another thing that intrigues me – perhaps 'baffles' is a better term-- is the band's artistic strategies with regard to shifting rhythmic patterns and its curious selection of tempo changes. As an ensemble, they display an uncanny knack for randomly speeding, then slowing the tempo– sometimes even within the traditional verse/chorus form. It’s simply remarkable that they all manage to end each song at approximately the same time—and here I’m talking about ending within at least two measures of each other. I’m reminded of the keening and wailing that accompanies the funeral rites of some tribal cultures, particularly the Oomaomao people who are, as a race, totally deaf.
Important Details:
Bourbon Jockey
Thursday, January 7, 2009
--starting at 8:00 pm going until they tire--
Roots Organic Brewing Company
Roots Organic Brewing Company
1530 SE 7th Avenue, Portland Oregon
No Admission Fee, Cover Charge or other Consideration
No Admission Fee, Cover Charge or other Consideration
Free Membership in the Bourbon Dynasty
(the exclusive Fan Club of Bourbon Jockey)
Recommended Dress: Classy Dungarees/Tube Tops
Bourbon Jockey is:
Ross McKeen (aka The Mighty Toy Cannon): Singin’, guitar slingin’ and harmonica blowin'.
Alan Cole (aka The Perfesser): Six string fireworks and harmony yelpin'.
Matthew Jones (aka Matthew): Upright bass thumpin' and gravitas.
Ross McKeen (aka The Mighty Toy Cannon): Singin’, guitar slingin’ and harmonica blowin'.
Alan Cole (aka The Perfesser): Six string fireworks and harmony yelpin'.
Matthew Jones (aka Matthew): Upright bass thumpin' and gravitas.
Straight Talk from a Guy Named Rocco
Surely you've heard that Rocco Landesman has been confirmed as the new chair of the National Endowment for the Arts.Folks are expecting (and hoping) that Mr. Landesman will shake things up after his predecessor, Dana Gioia, made the political calculation that we ought to treat the arts as a warm glass of milk: comfortable, familiar and soothing. That may have been the appropriate response for the times, but Mr. Landesman is making noises like he's ready to kick out the jams. A successful businessman and theatre entrepreneur, he steps into the position at the NEA with a reputation for candor and for possessing "sharp elbows."
The following are a few select quotes from a profile of Mr. Landesman which recently ran in the New York Times.
Regarding the place of the arts in American politics, he said, “The arts are a little bit of a target. The subtext is that it is elitist, left wing, maybe even a little gay.”
I'm sure the folks in Peoria weren't too happy to read this statement about artistic merit vs. geographic representation in awarding NEA grants: “I don’t know if there’s a theater in Peoria, but I would bet that it’s not as good as Steppenwolf or the Goodman. There is going to be some push-back from me about democratizing arts grants to the point where you really have to answer some questions about artistic merit.”
Then there's his goal of making sure the arts are included in economic recovery planning: “We need to have a seat at the big table with the grown-ups.”
As for the former agency slogan, “A Great Nation Deserves Great Art,” Mr. Landesman had this to say: “We might as well just apologize right off the bat.”
Let's wish him luck.
Mighty Toy Mamet Covers the Beer Summit
This morning's paper reported on yesterday's so-called "Beer Summit," at which President Obama tried to lay some healing hands on Professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Officer James Crowley. Vice President Joe Biden joined the festivities.
The article concluded with this line: "The four men munched peanuts and pretzels out of small silver bowls." That was a prompt I couldn't possibly resist.
Warning: Contains Adult Language. All characters and dialogue are fictional.
The article concluded with this line: "The four men munched peanuts and pretzels out of small silver bowls." That was a prompt I couldn't possibly resist.
Warning: Contains Adult Language. All characters and dialogue are fictional.
A BEER IN THE ROSE GARDEN
-A One Act Play-
by Mighty Toy Mamet
SCENE:
A picnic table in a verdant garden. In the background we see a white, colonnaded mansion. The table is set with small silver bowls filled with pretzels and peanuts. An ornate silver punch bowl with ice is on a side table. We see the necks of beer bottles sticking out of the ice. Four men are seated at the table drinking beer from glass mugs. They are casually dressed, as if preparing for a round of golf. A man in a white jacket stands at attention next to the punch bowl.
BARRY:
Hank...Hank...Hank. Okay. Hank. Look.
[taking a long pull on his beer, holding his hand up to halt the conversation]
Give Jim a chance to speak his mind, Hank. He’s a good man. We know what he is. He's fine. All I'm saying, Hank, is it looks like he made a mistake ... wait, wait, wait… that’s all I’m saying is give him another chance to explain here.
I don't want to tell you your job. I’m no professor, and I don’t want to pretend like I know what happened that night.
HANK:
That’s bullshit.
BARRY:
All that I'm saying is this. Things get set. I know. You know they do, you get a certain mindset... A guy gets a reputation. We know how this...all I'm saying, let’s get this thing beyond us and move on from here.
HANK:
Look, Barry. You may think this is going to blow over. Blow over and, what, be forgotten? Maybe you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be ...[pause] Shit. Never mind ...
BARRY:
... No. Hank. C’mon. What are you saying? Are you saying I don’t know what it’s like to be ... What? I mean, what are you saying here? Are you ...
HANK:
... No, no, no, no ...
BARRY:
... back up a second here. Because I’m where I am now, that means I ... what? I don’t remember where I was before? That’s just bullshit, Hank.
JIM:
Hey. Listen. I appreciate the beer, but I told the kids we’d see the space museum before we go home. Hard Rock Café too.
JOE:
Listen you little cocksucker. Excuse me, but Jesus H. Christ. Do you know who you’re talking to?
JIM:
What the fuck?
JOE:
Wait just a god-damned minute. I mean, look, Barry’s trying to say something. He’s saying something important, and if you don’t shut your piehole… I mean, I’m literally going to crawl in your face and ...
BARRY:
... Joe, Joe, Joe.
JIM:
Is this how this is going to happen? Is that why I’m here? What? So you can give me ... All of you can just ...
HANK:
... See. There. That’s what I’m talking about. Right. There. He’s doing it...
BARRY:
What do you think Tyrone?
TYRONE:
Excuse me, sir. What do I think about what?
BARRY:
You know, about the thing that happened. What do you …
TYRONE:
I try not to think about it much, sir.
JOE:
Look, I think Tyrone ought to sit down with us here. It doesn’t look right for him to be serving. Not today ...
HANK:
It doesn’t LOOK right? Is that what this is about? Looking right?
BARRY:
Well, no. Not exactly. No ...
JIM:
[Standing, fists clenched]
Look, this is bullshit. I don’t care who’s watching…
BARRY:
... no ... wait ...
JIM:
... or what kind of way it looks ...
HANK:
... I only ...
JOE:
... What the ...
HANK:
... wanted somebody to say he’s sorry and move ...
BARRY:
... okay, let’s calm down. Just chill out and enjoy the beer fellas ...
TYRONE:
[opening more beer and filling their glasses]
It’s cold. That’s what I think. It’s cold and tastes good.
BARRY:
How about those Sox? Let’s just talk about the Red Sox? Would that be okay with you? If we talk about baseball a little.
JOE:
Shit on a cracker, Barry. Look, I’m telling you it WAS a stupid thing for him to do. It was done stupidly. Why can’t we just say that. Stupid.
BARRY:
... no, no ... wait now. Joe.
JIM:
... Bullshit. It’s me. That’s who you’re talking about. And my family. My family waiting for me. Shit.
[pause, wiping his brow]
Due respect, I thought Boston was hot in July. Give me another one of those fucking beers. I don’t care which kind. Red Stripe, Blue Moon. I’d even drink some of that yellow Chinese beer. What’s it called? Ching Chong? Good with chow mein though.
[During the following, Barry is intently watching a fly buzzing around the table]
HANK:
Look. I mean, speaking of China. China, that’s the whole problem. I was tired after, what? 20 hours on a plane. You would too. You ever flown from China? No. No, I wouldn’t expect you would have been to China. Not lately.
JIM:
Lately. Kiss my ass lately. Like I don’t ever go nowhere. I don’t go nowhere ‘cause I’m just a cracker cop from Southie. Is that it, professor?
HANK:
I’m not saying ...
JIM:
Yeah? Seems to me you always got something to say. Shit, you get paid to talk and write and that shit. Write books and talk on television.
HANK:
It’s not ...
JIM:
What’s that? You call that work? Bullshit! You're burning my ass with that bullshit.
JOE:
Look. This is what you need to know. When I was growing up in Scranton, we all lived on different ...
JIM:
All due respect sir, you can shove Scranton up your pansy ass.
[Joe stands up and takes a step toward Jim. Barry suddenly smashes the fly on the table, startling everyone but Tyrone. He picks the fly up and drops it in Joe’s beer mug]
BARRY:
Now look. You two can either sit the fuck down and shut your fuckin’ mouths, or I can call an agent over to bust you down so motherfuckin’ fast you’ll be crying like pussies.
[They sit]
You think I like this? You think I like sitting here drinking beer with you fuckbags? There are people looking this way. Some of them can hurt you very badly.
JOE:
Let ‘em look. Like my old mother used to say ..
[Barry grabs Joe by his collar]
BARRY:
You think. What? You think I don’t have anything better to do? Nothing better than drinking this pisswater beer? Is that it? What you think?
[He holds Joe down and forces him to drink the beer with the fly in it. The others at the table drink their beers, avoiding eye contact. Tyrone chuckles quietly]
You see that bowl there? That bowl with the beer and ice?
You know who made that bowl? Paul Fuckin’ Revere made that bowl. You know who that is?
JIM:
Please tell me you’re not askin’ me who is Paul Revere. Where do you think I’m from? Revere? Like I don’t know he’s like the guy on the horse with the declaration of independence. From Boston.
BARRY:
So, you know then. You know that I’m a guy who has a friggin’ punch bowl made by Paul Revere? What does that make you think?
JIM:
Well, I guess ... I dunno. What?
BARRY:
That’s right. That’s what it means to be the guy who brought the beer in a motherfuckin’ museum piece. It means you’re listening to me now.
And, here’s what we’re going to do. You listening, Joe? Hank? Jimmy cracker boy?
[They nod]
What we’re going to do is this. What we’re going to do is make happy. You know how to make happy? You know how to make nice? Let’s just call it our happy ending. Tyrone, what’s the word Carter called it?
TYRONE:
Détente?
BARRY:
That’s right ...
TYRONE:
Rapprochement?
BARRY:
That too. We’re going to ...
TYRONE:
Agree that this was a candid but friendly discussion between honorable men?
BARRY:
Yeah. That’s it. Thank you, Tyrone.
Then Jimbo here is going to have his picture taken with my lovely wife. And then some TV reporter is going to kiss his ass to get an interview tomorrow morning. Right? A big hero and martyr. Another Captain Sulley. Until some grizzly bear is caught on video with his head stuck in what? Stuck in a friggin’ can and the cable news guys decide to run that instead of this story. And then ...
JIM:
I was thinking that, also ... I mean, maybe ...
BARRY:
... and then he’ll get a six figure deal book deal for his memoirs. Right? Don’t think about seven figures, cracker. Don’t start thinking you’re worth that.
JIM:
But. But. The helicopter ride?
BARRY:
... and then what? Then, he’s going to shut the fuck up until he’s an old man. That’s what he’s going to do. And when he’s an old, old man with withered nuts, you know what he’s going to do? I’ll tell you what. That’s when he’ll tell his grandkids all about it. He’ll be drooling in a cup, and he’ll be telling ‘em what a big deal he used to be. That’s what he’ll be saying. But you know what? You want to know what? Nobody ... I mean nobody is going to give a rat’s ass about any of that. They’ll be thinking about how bad he smells. He’ll tell them what a big man he was and they won’t be listening. They’ll be looking at the door.
Are we good here, boys? Everybody?
[Jim nods]
HANK:
Now. What? What am I getting? I’m getting jack, I think. A beer? That’s it? That's all I'm getting out of this? I’m the one. I’m the one who’s had his dignity, what? Taken. Stripped away? I guess that’s always the deal, isn’t it? I walk out of here and make the apologies. “I regret the misunderstanding.” Is that how it goes? I say, “I welcome this learning ... this ... what? This teaching moment?” Is that my cross to bear?
BARRY:
Yeah. No. No. Wait a minute Hank. What do you want, Hank? You want Jesse and Al to have a beer with you too? You got me doing this. Do I want to be doing this?
JOE:
You know what I think we ought to ...
BARRY:
You think we care what you think?
JOE:
I just ...
BARRY:
This is what you’re just going to do, Joe. You are not going to say anything about this thing we’re doing. You are not going to. No. It’s like you weren’t even here. Right? Right? Drink your beer and shut the fuck up.
HANK:
Hey ... that thing. What?
JIM:
Can I go now? Leave, I mean? Maybe take a beer with me? For my wife. She’s waiting. She's somewhere, waiting for me.
BARRY:
Get out of here. We’re done. Don’t forget to smile for the fuckin’ cameras on your way out.
- END OF PLAY-
Sarah Speaks
Earlier today, Sarah Palin gave her final press statement as Governor of Alaska. Not surprisingly, Ms. Palin used the opportunity to lash out at the media, issuing this stinging rebuke:"You represent what could and should be a respected and honest profession, that could and should be a cornerstone of our democracy. Democracy depends on you, and that is why our troops are willing to die for you. So how about, in honor of the American soldier, you quit making things up?"
I like the straightforward tone of that last part. No pussyfooting around. I'm going to give it a try:
“Hey honey! How about, in honor of the American soldier, you bring me another beer?”
"Hey buddy! How about, in honor of the American soldier, you move your fat ass out of my way?"
"Hey Congress! How about, in honor of the American soldier, you fix the health care system?"
Think it'll work?
Memorial Coliseum is about more than Architectural Preservation
I understand if you're fatigued by the Memorial Coliseum story. Perhaps you're one of the many who think it's an ugly, obsolete behemoth that threatens to stifle progress and waste taxpayer dollars. In the end, this post isn't about that story, though it was triggered by it. It's really about who's running the show in this goddamned town, and who's reporting the story.
The front page of Monday’s Oregonian was splashed with two beautiful photographs of Memorial Coliseum (exterior and interior), accompanying a hatchet job of a story about the building’s financial viability. A smidgeon of snideness crept into a headline that read, “Save Portland’s Memorial Coliseum, but for what?”
The O’s editorial position has been staunchly anti-Coliseum from the get-go, parroting the talking points of the proponents of its demolition, and implying that the only folks who want to preserve the building are a few elitist architects with their heads up their asses. On Monday morning, that editorial posture crept onto the front page--or was journalistic laziness to blame?
Asking questions about how Memorial Coliseum will be managed and to what purpose is a legitimate exercise. That’s a task Portland’s mainstream newspaper ought to take seriously. Instead, the paper ran a half-baked recap of talking points with faulty and incomplete analysis. Is editorial bias intruding on journalistic independence, or is this what happens when a newspaper’s resources are stripped bare, leaving no capacity for real investigative reporting?
In her front page article, Helen Jung writes, “The Save Memorial Coliseum campaign, spearheaded by a few architects passionate about the arena, worked.” (Note the emphasis on a "few architects").
Let me turn that statement on its head: “The Raze Memorial Coliseum campaign, spearheaded by a few private sector developers and rich sports team owners passionate about making money, worked.” Is that what you would rather be reading? Because it came close to that and still might.
Jung takes as an article of faith the argument that nobody knows how to manage the Coliseum successfully: “Architects who love Memorial Coliseum would show you the massive glass walls that allow natural light to stream into the seating bowl. They would show you the clever engineering of the roof -- the size of four city blocks -- resting on just four concrete pillars. But it's a little bit harder for them to show the outlines of a good business when looking at the 49-year-old coliseum's financial bones.”
The article states that Memorial Coliseum “has struggled for more than a decade to just break even.” The print version includes a bar chart to support that argument. Unfortunately, it appears to do just the opposite: Over the six year period reported, the chart shows that the City of Portland received close to $2.8 million in revenue from parking and user fees while spending just under $2.4 million running the garage and making some capital improvements. That’s a net gain of $400k (14%) over that period. (Under the management deal for the venue, the Blazers collect all other revenue, such as rentals and concessions, pay the Coliseum’s operating costs, and then split any remaining profit with the city).
Sure, the chart shows that the city has “lost” money over the most recent three years; but that is because it spent money on capital improvements in those years. If there were surpluses from previous years, doesn’t it make business sense to reinvest them in improvements and deferred maintenance? What happened to those surpluses anyway? The article doesn’t explore that question, nor does it report on what the Blazers earned or lost by operating the facility. (A year or two ago, a brief report said that the Blazers broke even operating the venue after years of losing money).
The article correctly notes that “the coliseum needs millions of dollars in fixes, from overhauling its half-century-old electrical system to replacing the roof. Its egalitarian seating arrangement, with no luxury boxes or club seats, makes the coliseum feel more like a high school gym than a venue out to make a profit.”
Why doesn't the article mention that the Blazers recently invested $13 million to upgrade the Rose Garden Arena after less than a decade of use? What makes that a legitimate investment, while maintaining Memorial Coliseum is portrayed as pouring money down a rat hole? By the way, $13 million is exactly what a 2002 study said would need to be invested in upgrades to the Coliseum.
The article briefly describes the management deal struck between the City of Portland and the Blazers. It mentions the “Portland Arena Management” as the Blazers's sister company responsible for managing the venues. It does not mention that Portland Arena Management signed a five year deal with AEG Facilities a few years ago to run the Rose Quarter. It doesn’t mention that Los Angeles-based AEG Facilities is a huge entertainment and venue management conglomerate with a world wide base of operations. (You might call AEG the Halliburton of sports and entertainment management). When the Blazers signed the deal in 2007, its chief operating officer at the time, Mike Golub, described AEG as “the fastest-growing facility management group and one of the most dynamic sports and entertainment companies in the world." Oh boy!
Reports in the Oregonian and other media outlets at the time read like they were transcribed from the Blazers/AEG press release. “The AEG team wants to attract a Rose Garden naming rights partner, coax more development of the Rose Quarter campus, add new events and generate more revenue for Vulcan Ventures, which owns the arena for Blazers owner Paul Allen.” AEG is a wholly owned subsidiary of the Anschutz Company, a sports entertainment outfit that operates the Staples Center in Los Angeles and many other venues and sports teams around the world. Part of its reputation is its ability to sell naming rights for venues, and its development of entertainment centers such as “L.A. Live” – a $2.5 billion district of residences, offices, hotel rooms and event venues which Blazers execs reportedly cite as a model for developing the Rose Quarter.
According to reports, AEG ranks as the nation's second-largest concert promoter behind Live Nation. That's what business folks call "integrated" but you may know it better as a "monopoly." They control the product, the content and the delivery systems. I thought it was interesting that my search of Oregon Live and the Oregonian's archives (thank you Multnomah County Libraries) turned up no further mention of AEG since the 2007 article about the Blazers handing over venue management.
The Blazers are now talking with another mega-developer, the Cordish Co., about creating the entertainment district, so it's not clear what AEG's role is in all this. What seems beyond dispute is that the Blazers and Paul Allen's Vulcan Ventures have been hankering for better profits and that Memorial Coliseum is sitting there as a huge obstacle. The connections between AEG, Cordish and Vulcan certainly make discussions about the proposed “entertainment district” more interesting. I won't be surprised if I learn that the Convention Center hotel project, for which Mayor Sam Adams has a powerful itch, gets integrated into this whole development deal. And here's another interesting connection: Mike Golub either quit or was fired by Vulcan recently, and reports are that Merritt Paulson wants to hire him as general manager for that new Major League Soccer team Portland is getting. It is a Small World after all!
As long as we're constructing a house of cards, when AEG took over management of the Rose Quarter, it was reported to have a “strong interest in developing and managing a 2,500-seat arena" on the site. At that seating capacity, such a venue would compete directly with the Schnitzer Auditorium (2,800 seats) and Keller Auditorium (3,000 seats) for commercial concerts, sucking away some of the revenue potential for those venues and destabilizing their financial underpinnings. Guess who gets hurt if that happens? The nonprofit performing companies that use those city-owned facilities at reduced rates thanks to commercial rentals that offset operating costs, that's who. Top on that list are the Oregon Symphony, the Oregon Ballet and the Portland Opera, all of which are struggling under current economic conditions. Oy!
So here's what has me riled up: This is all starting to feel Bush league. By that, I mean it's looking like the kind of private sector deal-making that we saw flourishing over the past eight years.
It's Enron and Halliburton rolled together into one flaming clusterf**k.
It's a strategy of belittling and marginalizing opponents, treating them as if they're idiots for not understanding the complexities of the deal.
It's the media rolling over and reporting from press releases and talking points rather than doing its investigative job.
It's spreadsheets with variables jiggered so that the future looks rosy and risk free until it all turns to shit and then what's the next brilliant plan?
It's rich fat cats sucking at the public teat while pocketing all the upside of the deal and walking away from the risks.
It's elected officials wanting to appear decisive and action-oriented, hellbent on creating a legacy greater than scandal.
It's about whatever happened to Portland being a town that knows how to plan?
Okay, I’m not a reporter and I have other work to do and many miles to go before I sleep. All of my investigation of this post was done on a laptop while watching the season finale of "House." If I got facts wrong, tell me and I'll fix them. I'll try to add links and give proper citations later. I didn't even take the time to add a photo to brighten things up.
Go read Bob Hick’s excellent analysis of this story at Art Scatter, which he's titled,"Memorial Coliseum: The Empire Strikes Back." It's brilliant and passionate, and Bob is more articulate about it. I particularly like the questions he raises about the place of profit in managing public facilities that were built for the public good.
The front page of Monday’s Oregonian was splashed with two beautiful photographs of Memorial Coliseum (exterior and interior), accompanying a hatchet job of a story about the building’s financial viability. A smidgeon of snideness crept into a headline that read, “Save Portland’s Memorial Coliseum, but for what?”
The O’s editorial position has been staunchly anti-Coliseum from the get-go, parroting the talking points of the proponents of its demolition, and implying that the only folks who want to preserve the building are a few elitist architects with their heads up their asses. On Monday morning, that editorial posture crept onto the front page--or was journalistic laziness to blame?
Asking questions about how Memorial Coliseum will be managed and to what purpose is a legitimate exercise. That’s a task Portland’s mainstream newspaper ought to take seriously. Instead, the paper ran a half-baked recap of talking points with faulty and incomplete analysis. Is editorial bias intruding on journalistic independence, or is this what happens when a newspaper’s resources are stripped bare, leaving no capacity for real investigative reporting?
In her front page article, Helen Jung writes, “The Save Memorial Coliseum campaign, spearheaded by a few architects passionate about the arena, worked.” (Note the emphasis on a "few architects").
Let me turn that statement on its head: “The Raze Memorial Coliseum campaign, spearheaded by a few private sector developers and rich sports team owners passionate about making money, worked.” Is that what you would rather be reading? Because it came close to that and still might.
Jung takes as an article of faith the argument that nobody knows how to manage the Coliseum successfully: “Architects who love Memorial Coliseum would show you the massive glass walls that allow natural light to stream into the seating bowl. They would show you the clever engineering of the roof -- the size of four city blocks -- resting on just four concrete pillars. But it's a little bit harder for them to show the outlines of a good business when looking at the 49-year-old coliseum's financial bones.”
The article states that Memorial Coliseum “has struggled for more than a decade to just break even.” The print version includes a bar chart to support that argument. Unfortunately, it appears to do just the opposite: Over the six year period reported, the chart shows that the City of Portland received close to $2.8 million in revenue from parking and user fees while spending just under $2.4 million running the garage and making some capital improvements. That’s a net gain of $400k (14%) over that period. (Under the management deal for the venue, the Blazers collect all other revenue, such as rentals and concessions, pay the Coliseum’s operating costs, and then split any remaining profit with the city).
Sure, the chart shows that the city has “lost” money over the most recent three years; but that is because it spent money on capital improvements in those years. If there were surpluses from previous years, doesn’t it make business sense to reinvest them in improvements and deferred maintenance? What happened to those surpluses anyway? The article doesn’t explore that question, nor does it report on what the Blazers earned or lost by operating the facility. (A year or two ago, a brief report said that the Blazers broke even operating the venue after years of losing money).
The article correctly notes that “the coliseum needs millions of dollars in fixes, from overhauling its half-century-old electrical system to replacing the roof. Its egalitarian seating arrangement, with no luxury boxes or club seats, makes the coliseum feel more like a high school gym than a venue out to make a profit.”
Why doesn't the article mention that the Blazers recently invested $13 million to upgrade the Rose Garden Arena after less than a decade of use? What makes that a legitimate investment, while maintaining Memorial Coliseum is portrayed as pouring money down a rat hole? By the way, $13 million is exactly what a 2002 study said would need to be invested in upgrades to the Coliseum.
The article briefly describes the management deal struck between the City of Portland and the Blazers. It mentions the “Portland Arena Management” as the Blazers's sister company responsible for managing the venues. It does not mention that Portland Arena Management signed a five year deal with AEG Facilities a few years ago to run the Rose Quarter. It doesn’t mention that Los Angeles-based AEG Facilities is a huge entertainment and venue management conglomerate with a world wide base of operations. (You might call AEG the Halliburton of sports and entertainment management). When the Blazers signed the deal in 2007, its chief operating officer at the time, Mike Golub, described AEG as “the fastest-growing facility management group and one of the most dynamic sports and entertainment companies in the world." Oh boy!
Reports in the Oregonian and other media outlets at the time read like they were transcribed from the Blazers/AEG press release. “The AEG team wants to attract a Rose Garden naming rights partner, coax more development of the Rose Quarter campus, add new events and generate more revenue for Vulcan Ventures, which owns the arena for Blazers owner Paul Allen.” AEG is a wholly owned subsidiary of the Anschutz Company, a sports entertainment outfit that operates the Staples Center in Los Angeles and many other venues and sports teams around the world. Part of its reputation is its ability to sell naming rights for venues, and its development of entertainment centers such as “L.A. Live” – a $2.5 billion district of residences, offices, hotel rooms and event venues which Blazers execs reportedly cite as a model for developing the Rose Quarter.
According to reports, AEG ranks as the nation's second-largest concert promoter behind Live Nation. That's what business folks call "integrated" but you may know it better as a "monopoly." They control the product, the content and the delivery systems. I thought it was interesting that my search of Oregon Live and the Oregonian's archives (thank you Multnomah County Libraries) turned up no further mention of AEG since the 2007 article about the Blazers handing over venue management.
The Blazers are now talking with another mega-developer, the Cordish Co., about creating the entertainment district, so it's not clear what AEG's role is in all this. What seems beyond dispute is that the Blazers and Paul Allen's Vulcan Ventures have been hankering for better profits and that Memorial Coliseum is sitting there as a huge obstacle. The connections between AEG, Cordish and Vulcan certainly make discussions about the proposed “entertainment district” more interesting. I won't be surprised if I learn that the Convention Center hotel project, for which Mayor Sam Adams has a powerful itch, gets integrated into this whole development deal. And here's another interesting connection: Mike Golub either quit or was fired by Vulcan recently, and reports are that Merritt Paulson wants to hire him as general manager for that new Major League Soccer team Portland is getting. It is a Small World after all!
As long as we're constructing a house of cards, when AEG took over management of the Rose Quarter, it was reported to have a “strong interest in developing and managing a 2,500-seat arena" on the site. At that seating capacity, such a venue would compete directly with the Schnitzer Auditorium (2,800 seats) and Keller Auditorium (3,000 seats) for commercial concerts, sucking away some of the revenue potential for those venues and destabilizing their financial underpinnings. Guess who gets hurt if that happens? The nonprofit performing companies that use those city-owned facilities at reduced rates thanks to commercial rentals that offset operating costs, that's who. Top on that list are the Oregon Symphony, the Oregon Ballet and the Portland Opera, all of which are struggling under current economic conditions. Oy!
So here's what has me riled up: This is all starting to feel Bush league. By that, I mean it's looking like the kind of private sector deal-making that we saw flourishing over the past eight years.
It's Enron and Halliburton rolled together into one flaming clusterf**k.
It's a strategy of belittling and marginalizing opponents, treating them as if they're idiots for not understanding the complexities of the deal.
It's the media rolling over and reporting from press releases and talking points rather than doing its investigative job.
It's spreadsheets with variables jiggered so that the future looks rosy and risk free until it all turns to shit and then what's the next brilliant plan?
It's rich fat cats sucking at the public teat while pocketing all the upside of the deal and walking away from the risks.
It's elected officials wanting to appear decisive and action-oriented, hellbent on creating a legacy greater than scandal.
It's about whatever happened to Portland being a town that knows how to plan?
Okay, I’m not a reporter and I have other work to do and many miles to go before I sleep. All of my investigation of this post was done on a laptop while watching the season finale of "House." If I got facts wrong, tell me and I'll fix them. I'll try to add links and give proper citations later. I didn't even take the time to add a photo to brighten things up.
Go read Bob Hick’s excellent analysis of this story at Art Scatter, which he's titled,"Memorial Coliseum: The Empire Strikes Back." It's brilliant and passionate, and Bob is more articulate about it. I particularly like the questions he raises about the place of profit in managing public facilities that were built for the public good.
Nixon: Uncomfortable in his own Skin
Last Friday, upon returning home from a satisfying opening night performance of "Frost/Nixon" at Portland Center Stage, we snuggled up on the sofa with a nightcap and a bowl of popcorn and proceeded to surf the net on our respective laptops, engaging in a little post-theater research and memory freshening. There's nothing quite like historical research to top off a night of theater.Since then, I’ve been trying to write a review, hoping to deliver a post that provides the reader with my uncanny analysis and musings on media, political corruption and human nature. I wanted to draw parallels between Nixon’s corruption and other political travesties, national and local. I wanted to reflect on the role of media in politics and how it has changed over the past 35 years. (Note: MY GOD! Has it been that long?).
Unfortunately, after six days of noodling, all I've come up with are dribs and drabs of incomplete thoughts. I keep getting distracted watching YouTube clips of the original Frost/Nixon interviews and listening to snippets of secret White House recordings. I'd like to be able to use the following Nixon blooper clip as a springboard for profound commentary on media and image-shaping, but mostly I just thought it was funny ... in a sad kind of way:
Over at Art Scatter, Bob Hicks writes more eloquently about Nixon as a tragic figure, so read his post (including the comments) and then pretend that you heard it from me. I'm done trying to weave the following random notes into a coherent essay. Best that you just go see the show, which runs through May 10th at the Gerding Theater ("The Bob"). It's good.
Full disclosure: I’m a neighbor and former colleague of director Rose Riordan and we frequently bump into each and talk about the business and art of theater while walking our dogs late at night. Our dogs are friends too.
1) "Frost/Nixon" is a complex technical achievement, with panels and set pieces that slide smoothly in and out, and lots of projected video (recorded and live). While tricky, all of these elements work together without being obtrusive or flashy – the whizbangery did not distract me from the story. The extensive use of video projection is an essential part of the storytelling and is not a gimmick. (Note: The actors aren’t lip-syncing to prerecorded video as one patron reportedly complained). The proscenium itself is encircled in a bezel that says, "I'm a giant TV set."
2) Technical bravado aside, the true key to the production’s success is that Riordan found just the right Nixon in Bill Christ. For any production of "Frost/Nixon," the big challenge is to transcend the three basic Nixons implanted in our brains: (1) The original Tricky Dick we watched on television from the Checker’s speech to his resignation; (2) the cartoon Nixon with floppy jowls and outstretched arms flashing the victory sign; and (3) Frank Langella.
Bill Christ conveys key Nixonian mannerisms and vocal inflections without sounding like a hack impressionist. He portrays Nixon’s complexities and vulnerabilities, and even manages to elicit a smidgeon of empathy. His nuanced acting holds up even when his gigantic mug is supersized on the video projection that dominates the set.
3) If there are weaknesses in "Frost/Nixon," they are in Peter Morgan's script. I think the play leans too heavily on expository speeches by two of the side characters: Jack Brennan (Scott Coopwood) on the Nixon team and Jim Reston (Adam Ludwig) as one of Frost's researchers. I’m not sure how else the necessary exposition might have been accomplished, but it struck me as a clumsy mechanism to bring the audience up to speed and move the story along. (Note: "Clumsy" may be too strong in this case ... make it "inelegant").
4) Other than Frost and Nixon, I thought the other characters were weakly developed (though well played and directed). Of course, the play's focus should be on the match between the title characters. Still, I would have liked to have known more about the other characters and their motivations, beyond what the script provides. For example, the character of Caroline Cushing (Allison Tigard) is introduced as a woman Frost meets on a flight while on his way to meet Nixon in advance of the interviews. She's invited to accompany him and they become an "item." In real life, Cushing was a journalist who had already been in a relationship with Frost for five years before the Nixon project. Tigard's portrayal gives the role enough weightiness to avoid coming across as Frost's arm candy, but the picture still seems incomplete.
5) The script makes David Frost out to be a journalistic lightweight and party boy. Perhaps that’s an accurate depiction, but it makes him less plausible as a “worthy opponent” (as Nixon ultimately declares). The underdog overcoming odds and beating a tough opponent is a perfectly legitimate plot trajectory. In this case, Frost's transformation from hapless bimbo to master debater seems to happen too quickly, conveniently and without enough dramatic tension. (Note: I couldn’t resist writing “master debater,” but did edit out the reference to Frost as a “cunning linguist” because I have my standards).
6) One of the play’s pivotal scenes involves a drunken Nixon making a late night phone call to Frost in which he exposes all of his insecurities and grudges. (Note: I’m putting “Drunken Nixon” on my list of potential band names). It’s a powerful and effective scene, but one that is completely fictional. I'm not sure what to think of that. I know, I know, it's a play, not a documentary, but still. (Note: I really mean it when I say I don't know what to think about this ... but at least it made me think about the role of truth and imagination in creating theater based in historical fact ... ).
7) I would like to say that "Frost/Nixon" will win a Drammy for best set, except that I think that category might be won by either "The Receptionist" or "How to Disappear and Never be Found" -- also directed by Rose Riordan. Bill Christ should at least be nominated for Best Actor -- but if he wins, the monkey-fightin' Portland acting community will go batshit crazy because he's from out-of-town.
8) Really. Go see the show. Ignore my little penny ante quibbles. It's really well done and is a fascinating story with lots to think about afterwards, food for thought, blah blah.
Oh, one more thing: It's always good to be reminded of how power corrupts. Nixon thought he had the right answers and that his reelection would serve the nation best; hence, the ends justified the means -- lying, cheating and covering up were okay because he was the guy with the brilliant mind and great ideas who was going to save us from ourselves and the rest of the world. Isn't that always the slippery slope upon which politicians risk finding themselves?
Flyin' on a Monday to Friday Plane
Here at Culture Shock, we try to stay focused on life and culture in Portland. And we try hard to avoid gratuitous recycling (or "repurposing") of material culled from the vast interwebs. For instance, I've been working on a review of Frost/Nixon since Friday night (thumbs up with a few quibbles), and a reasoned argument in favor of saving Memorial Coliseum (thankfully, Mayor Adams has given me another week to work on that one before it's too late).
Having said that, I take this moment to give you a clip from the televised version of the classic film, "Snakes on a Plane," sanitized to protect your delicate ears.
Now, let's get on with this monkey fightin' day.
Having said that, I take this moment to give you a clip from the televised version of the classic film, "Snakes on a Plane," sanitized to protect your delicate ears.
Now, let's get on with this monkey fightin' day.
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