Giving thanks, and a mea culpa

I realize that I have been severely deficient in the upkeep of this blog the last few weeks. Its been a situation it seems, most nights, that I'll come from work or the gym with the intention of writing something, then sitting down and having nothing flow out immediately, getting distracted, then finally not actually writing anything for whatever reason. I'm hoping that the Thanksgiving break might help recharge things, so here we go. As I've said, things have been busy and interesting up here the last few weeks. Two weeks ago, I had the kind of weird privilege of going down to Alton Central School and reading to kids as part of their "Celebrity reading day." Seriously. I was considered a celebrity. I think this probably says more about where I live than anything else. Anyway, I read through a couple of children's book's (I read to two third grade classes) as the two books I brought from my personal library, Moby Dick and Walden probably wouldn't have been too entertaining (though I did read part of Chapter one of Moby Dick to the first class, who kept asking me to keep going, though I assume that was because they didn't want to actually learn stuff in their other courses.

Thanksgiving as interesting, mainly because I had to make the long drive(s) myself. Even last year, I drove from Chicago to home, then to Euclid with the family (though I should say, the trip from Chicago, which usually took four and a half to five hours took eight because of snow and slow traffic). This year, I left Wednesday morning, then drove about 13 hours to Cleveland. The drive was actually quite simple, there were only about two or three turns the whole trip, as it was almost entirely on I-90, including the Mass. and New York thruways. The ride back took less time, but again, took the same route.

While I was down in Euclid, I saw two movies, about which I wanted to share some quick thoughts. First, Thanksgiving night, I saw Rent with Robert, Annie and Kenny and their kids, along with some of the drama students they know. I enjoyed it, though it wasn't as good as Chicago as an adaptation. I think more of my problems with it were related to the source material, the play itself. I've seen a lot of online reviews, especially from a lot of regular folks who hated, hated, the show, and pretty much hated the movie too. The thing I can see, even having never seen it onstage, is that Rent is, if anything, a product of two time periods- the AIDS epidemic years of the late 80's, where indeed, it cut a wide swath through whole communities, and then the mid-90's as a theatre piece. It is, more than anything, totally different from anything by Andrew Lloyd Webber or Les Mis, less biting and cynical than Sondheim, and more accessible for many because of the style of music. It will always have a home at colleges once it leaves Broadway, but I don't know if it will ultimately be remembered as one of those musicals that fundamentally changes things. It will probably be thought of, along with Hair, as it's own category.

The second one I saw was GoF, which I found, more than anything, to be incredibly dark. Having not read the books, I track the progress of the kids through the movies, and I was surprised just how dark and intense the movie was. I enjoyed it, don't get me wrong, but I was just a little surprised. I have to say, too, that its great to see the development of each of the actors grow up before our eyes.

Viva La Raza, RIP

There are a lot of things that I like to talk about, other things not. One of those things is that I, a college educated male, who holds a post-graduate degree, watches professional wrestling.

The way I reconcile this is that I don't watch it the way most other people do. I watch to see certain guys who are incredibly good, the guys who are incredibly good at what they do, in all respects. I watch because I want to see how a 60-year old man can make people in a live crowd believe he can defeat a man a 20 or 30 years younger, to watch how brilliantly an Olympic champion amateur has become an all-time great in a totally different endeavor. The great ones are just as much performers as any great theatre practitioner, because anyone watching knows that everything is just as scripted but makes you want to watch anyway.

Eddie Guerrero was one of those who made you want to watch him perform, because of the joy he obviously brought to his profession. Its a profession he was born into, one he was raised in, one his brothers and his nephew, who's actually only three years younger, were born into. He wrestled in Mexico and in Japan, he wrestled in the Bingo Hall known as the ECW Arena in Philadelphia, and then the dysfunctional enterprise called WCW. He became the first luchadore to hold a major American world title.

But what made Eddie Guerrero a great story, and what makes his death all the more tragic, is the personal demons he overcame. Guerrero wasn't a big man; he was 5'8", 220, according to coroner’s reports. He wasn't a steroid user. He was a recovering alcoholic, and like many wrestlers he fought battles against painkillers. Its that addiction that's felled an increasing number of wrestlers, from Bobby Duncum Jr., Davey Boy Smith and Curt Hennig, along with many others in recent years. It’s also a reality that despite the fact that it isn't a sport, no athletes perform the same daily travel schedule as wrestlers. No athletes are on the road more, and there's no off-season for wrestlers. It’s that addiction that Eddie Guerrero fought, and survived. He'd been sober for years, but as any recovering addict will tell you, you fight four-year's worth of one-day battles to stay sober.

What makes King Lear so tragic, the reason the real version wasn't performed for 300 years and replaced by the Tate version, is that for all of the mistakes he makes, the wrongs he commits, there seems to be a future. Goneril and Regan are gone, Albany, Edgar and Kent are triumphant, and all seems right. What seems most unfair is that its then that the hammer falls, that Lear is stripped of first that which he values and loves most, and then his life. Its we as the audience, and through the remaining characters onstage, that are left with the hole in the world. That's ultimately what makes Eddie Guerrero's death so tragic: He conquered his demons, only to be taken in the prime of his life, leaving a wife and two children. Now it’s his friends and family, and his fans, that go on wondering why.

Eddie Guerrero triumphed in an industry stacked against him. In a business that favors big, hulking monsters that are great on the mic, he was short and average sized, and spoke with an accent. Champions, the men who carried the business were supposed to be white and clean cut. Eddie was proudly Mexican-American, growing up in El Paso and just across the border, had a thin moustache and wore a mullet for a large portion of his career. At one point he, and a few other wrestlers like him, would have been shunted to the side, either labeled "vanilla midgets" (Kevin Nash's phrase for him, Chris Benoit and Dean Malenko) or given license to only play a stereotype, which he often had to do. Still, he rose to the top of his profession, he was as adaptable as anyone was, and he could play the good guy and the bad guy with equal brilliance. He made anyone who watched him appreciate that they were watching the consummate performer and professional. He was substance in a business almost all about style. What's sad is that people like him often have to leave so soon.

Wahoo Country

I wanted to briefly talk about the elections yesterday, especially in Virginia. Earlier this fall, I heard on Kornheiser about one of the ads run by the Republican nominee, Jerry Kilgore. It showed the father of a murder victim, who talked about how upset he was that Tim Kaine opposed the death penalty. Tony mentioned how powerful the ad was, and I'm sure it was. Personal testimony like that is always effective, and of course, we're talking about the South, where there is a history of support for the death penalty.

What really makes this interesting for me, though, is that Kaine is Catholic, and essentially makes the same argument that every Catholic politician has made since Roe, the "I'm personally opposed to abortion but I will uphold the law," argument. Kaine also extended that to the death penalty, saying that while he objected to it morally, he would still carry out the laws of Virginia. While I find the last part somewhat disturbing, because I also don't believe in the death penalty, but I understand the sentiment. In response to the Kilgore ad, Kaine made his position clear. What's amazing, here, and I say this as a Democratic voter who's seen such attempts derail a Cuomo presidential run and repeatedly fail at nearly every other attempt. I guess, that in Virginia, people are wising up. That and the fact that George Bush can't deliver a state quite literally in his own backyard (and if you consider the land that used to belong to the District and was ceded to Va. it quite literally is).

I wasn't surprised about Jon Corzine winning, though that race got really dirty. It was gratifying to see the Dover, PA school board voted out, though that was counterbalanced by Kansas changing the definition of science and taking reason out of science classes, replacing it with faith. Nice work. Rock, Chalk, You Stink.

New York State of Mind, or Currency of Love

So, as a treat to myself, and to see Beth perform her cabaret act that she does with Audra White, I visited New York this weekend. Really, the treat for me, ultimately is going to the city. The weird thing was, the last time I went to the city was the same afternoon that Mary called and offered me the job , so, leaving work from that job early to take the same route was interesting. The ride had gone very well, I'd called John Sellers the day before, part of a sort of quick and haphazard attempt to put together the trip during what had been a pretty busy week. When I got to the city, well, things slowed down, a lot. Consider , that it was still very light out by the time I got into New York and around 6:30, about two-and a-half hours later, that I got to John's apartment, suddenly worrying that I wouldn't arrive in time. Beth said to be at the theatre at 8:30, I needed to shower and change, and I had been figuring on about an hour for the trip from Park Slope to the Upper West Side.
Luckily, however, I walked up the subway steps on to Central Park West and 72nd at around 8:20, then looked around for the Triad. I asked several doormen, the doormen of the buildings who's average rent is about 50 times my yearly salary, for directions. I ended up just sorting feeling around for it, then, bang, before Amsterdam, I find the building. There was a show going on, so I still had a while, then I saw Beth and Audra before they went in and wished them luck, but it still was about a half-hour, as the show in the space before their show ran long and they needed to do sound check.

The show itself...well, its best to say that Beth and Audra were fabulous. The other acts...well, in place like New York, you get a lot of really talented people doing a lot of really good stuff, really innovative. Then you have some marginally or completely untalented people who have convinced themselves, or been convinced by other people, that they are in fact talented. There were some really talented people, aside from Beth and Audra, one guy who did a comedy/musical act playing the bass, an a couple of very funny comics, but there were some others, like the host (who was on Square Pegs, that's his claim to fame. A show that was on the air for about two years and then vanished is his claim to fame. He actually did a "So anyone here from out of town," reset for God's sake) and the ventriloquist (its one thing to move your lips slightly, after all how are you supposed to create a sound, but seriously, there has to be some sort of attempt at minimizing their movement. And try to spend more than five minutes on the dummy next time). Still the worst, the absolute worst was this woman who performed last. She was a singer, who performed what had to be the most amateurish (she didn't have live backup, it was on a tape) written songs ever (one was about how great life would be if love were how we measured wealth, the other I heard was written during a breakthrough in therapy, there was no way I was staying for the last song). Obviously, she had to have performed some sort of coital favor for someone to get on the bill, because, wow, she was awful. If they had brought up a homeless person from the street, at least the chances are 50/50 they might well be better.

After the show, I grabbed some food with Audra, Beth and some of their friends and talked, then I headed back to Park Slope. Unfortunately, I went to the wrong stop, and ended up having to go North to go South. I ended up getting back at 3, tired and ready for sleep.

My favorite thing about New York is the fact that even when alone, you feel a part of the city, because its that vibrant. I spent a good part of Saturday just walking around the city, which I always enjoy. Still, because it was Marathon weekend, I needed to get out on Saturday, as I'd still be in New York otherwise. Still, it was wonderful to talk to Sellers and Beth and just be in my favorite city, no matter how many untalented people there are there. After all, they're still living the dream.