Monday, August 31, 2015

Driving like an American



          Good evening, 919 Gang. You see how it works? David Farmer writes a piece about gear-shift levers and knobs. Bernie Hunt takes that topic to England, and then others add their thoughts, and the string just keeps growing. How about if you plant a seed?

          ROBERT J. HAWKINS writes:
          Last summer while in England for a wedding I made the confounding, near-miraculous decision not to drink at the initial gathering of the two families.
          And if ever there was a time for drinking that would have been it.
          The key reason I’d chosen not to drink was that we’d only arrived from Belize that morning and the drive from Heathrow to Horsham had been harrowing. And there I was, that night, in a tiny quaintly-named village (Puddlesworth? Ducknockers? Chatalot?) full of thatched houses and narrow winding roads -- from which I was actually expected to make our way back to our B&B in Arundel.
          In a car. In the dark. On the left.
          It had been 30 years since I’d driven in England and I did everything wrong -- got confused in roundabouts, grabbed for the door handle instead of the gear knob, turned on wiper blades instead of turn signals, drifted onto chatterstrips far to the left, drove way too slowly.
          Yes, I was driving like an American.
          In fact that is what the policeman said: “You’re driving like an American.”
          He’d stopped us within blocks of our B&B, but I know that he’d been discretely tailing us for quite some time. Well, as discrete as you can be in a canary yellow car with black-and-white checker stripes and blue lights on top. Knowing he was there made me all the more nervous.
          And clumsy.
          He was nice enough about it, chatting me up at close range until satisfied that my breath yielded nothing worse that the smell of lemon water and duck pate.
          “Well, as you know sir, the objective is to get home safely. Isn’t it?”
          “Yes, sir.”
          “Good then. Let’s see that you do that.”
          “I can just go?”
          “That’s right. You’re almost there. Drive carefully.”
          And I did. With a ridiculous number of "Thank you!" trailing behind me in the night.
          But I still kept reaching for the doorknob when it came time to shift.

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          JANET LOWE writes:
          Preston Turegano’s review of the Santa Fe Opera was quite impressive. I'm living mostly full-time in Santa Fe now and am an opera docent. When I settled here it seemed like a good opportunity to learn about opera. We get three weeks of training at the beginning of each summer, and it's like a graduate seminar. While it is true that opera goers are mostly lily white, the Santa Fe Opera has a school outreach program and a Pueblo outreach program. Both are well-attended, but it doesn't seem like the audience becomes big opera fans. Santa Fe draws opera lovers from all over the world, so the audience does not represent the community anyway. While it might seem that Santa Fe has turned Anglo, that's only true downtown during tourist season. The culture here is still dominated by Hispanics and Native Americans. Not a lot of African-Americans or Asians. We're not an average American city, but the art, music, dance and theater are wonderful.

          PRESTON TUREGANO writes:
          Allow me to clarify: New York's Metropolitan Opera translates its operas into English and other languages on small text machines on the back of seats and facing a seated spectator. The Met's stage arch is too high for above-stage translation projection. The Santa Fe Opera now uses the Met's system, as do other opera houses around the world. The seated spectator can turn off the screen if he or she wishes to do so. San Diego Opera uses the above-stage system.

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          RICK SMITH writes:
          Don Bauder's reference to DeWitt Clinton got me off into a favorite pursuit of mine, high school trivia.
          DeWitt Clinton High in the Bronx has had literally hundreds of grads who went on to fame. I knew about actor Burt Lancaster and Bill McClelland (who?), the first high schooler to clear 7 feet in the high jump (at the National AAU meet in San Diego in 1965). But, among many others, here are a few more: Martin Balsam, Sugar Ray Robinson, Charlie Rangel, Ralph Lauren, Richard Rodgers, James Baldwin, Paddy Chayefsky, and our old friend, Milton Cross, whose voice as host of the Metropolitan Opera was heard on the radio in our household every Saturday morning, to my mother's enjoyment, when we lived in the Frontier Housing project on Adrian Street in the late 'forties.
          Add unwelcome use of "Tom", as with Uncle.

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          JANET LOWE writes:
          We sometimes discuss journalism movies on this blog, so I recommend The End of the Tour. Despite the controversy surrounding the film, I thought it was well-done and the acting was excellent. While I don't claim to be in a league with David Foster Wallace or David Lipsky, the Rolling Stone writer, it was easy to identify with both. I suspect most members of this blog also would understand the situation of both. Who among us hasn't peeked into a bathroom cabinet, or the moral equivalent thereof? Who hasn't struggled with when and how to ask the tough question that is likely to enrage the subject? Joan Cusack absolutely nailed the "escort," or author's driver. My driver in Washington, D.C. described herself as a "celebrity driver." She wasn't a celeb, but she loved driving them. At the end of our time together she informed me that it is customary for an author to give the driver a signed copy of the book being promoted. The only copy I had was the one carried in case the TV interviewer didn't have one to show on screen. Feeling like an ignoramus, I gave it to her. Such is life.

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          BOB ELLEDGE writes:
          Another spell check comment: I spelled "didntl" today and speller said to change to "didnlt." One online dictionary said there's no such word and perhaps I meant “dirndl.”

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          REBER: Welcome to September, and Happy Birthday, Sept. 1, to Lew Little.

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          REBER: I thank Bob Elledge for sharing this, but I hate what he shared. A newspaper, especially a good one, has value, and people should be encouraged to recognize that. The deep discounts are insulting.

          BOB ELLEDGE forwards:
          $10 a year Sunday Edition Subscription - The San Diego Union-Tribune | Groupon

          BOB ELLEDGE forwards:
          Comma Queen | The Semicolon; or, Mastering the Giant Comma | The New Yorker Video | CNE

          BOB ELLEDGE forwards:
          One-Star Reviews of National Parks
          Why did they make Death Valley so hot?
          And this gem:


P.O. Box 2239
Ramona, CA 92065
U.S.A.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

About that photo



          Good evening, 919 Gang.

Boris Yaro's photo for the Los Angeles Times
           CARL LARSEN writes:
          The discussion of whether photos of the Virginia gunman aiming his weapon at the TV crew should have been used by the daily media has not been as spirited among 919 members as I had hoped.
          Thanks to Bob Elledge. I believe he's the one who got the ball rolling.
          The shootings last week have brought perhaps the biggest debate in recent years over ethics and standards in American newsrooms, which already had been shaken by the recent broad dissemination in social media of the horrific photos of ISIS beheadings.
          And this debate has struck news editors overseas. In the U.K., BBC-TV took the rare step of dispensing with its late-night display of the next-morning's papers because several tabloids had prominently displayed on their covers the unsettling photos of the gunman taking aim.
          Some editors perhaps thought that because the victims were shown unaware of what was about to befall them that it was acceptable to use one of the photos. The crossing over the line point was another, less-used, photo that showed the terror on the reporter's face when she saw the gun.
          Personally, I had no desire to see the unsettling photos, and was surprised to see one used on Page 1 of the L.A. Times, and on the "CBS Evening News with Scott Pelley." Some things, I just don't need to see, such as the people jumping to their deaths from the Twin Towers on 9/11.
          But then on Sunday, L.A. Times columnist Steve Lopez threw a monkey wrench into my thinking and into the overall discussion -- perhaps unwittingly -- by writing a piece on what has happened to the Ambassador Hotel busboy who attended to Robert Kennedy by cradling Kennedy's head just after Sirhan Sirhan shot him fatally.
          The Lopez piece told how the busboy, Juan Romero, had been haunted all these years by the assassination and his resulting "celebrity" status. (People would ask for his photo.) Would Kennedy have lived had Romero not reached out to shake his hand, the former busboy, now 65, had wondered all this time. Now, with the aid of a friend in Germany, Romero has reached a sense of absolution, Lopez wrote.
          Displayed in a secondary position with the Lopez story was the photo that defined the event -- a 17-year old Romero crouched over the dying Kennedy. It was taken by Times photographer Boris Yaro and is remembered by millions. Without it, you can't begin to realize the horror and chaos of that night. It's journalistic short-hand today -- to get us on the same page.
          (Yaro recalled the moment: "There still was some pandemonium, and at one point, when I tried to make pictures, a woman grabbed hold of my coat sleeve and began yelling, 'Don’t take pictures. Don’t take pictures. I’m a photographer, and I’m not taking pictures.' My response was, ‘Dammit, lady, this is history.’)”
          The Kennedy photo is now a piece of history, taken by a news professional. The photos of the Virginia shootings were taken by the murderer. Is that the difference, making us so repulsed by the Virginia pictures?
          And what about those chilling images? Could they become an important piece of history themselves? By framing them in our memories, might they not represent a possible turning point in the senseless violence gripping our nation? Hard to imagine, but it's a thought.
          So, I'm now very conflicted about the use of photos from our latest outrage.
          It used to be easy to make a call in the old days, when the judgment was made by asking a simple question: Was it suitable for a "family newspaper?"
          But that cop-out defense is now gone, along with Robert Young and Jane Wyatt presiding over the dinner table.
          And it leaves me wondering what is the role of an editor and just who is it who determines what is acceptable, and what is not? And for what audience? Is it anyone with a smartphone?

          REBER: No one can control what is displayed on social media, but I think a general circulation newspaper still has to ask “Is it suitable for a family newspaper?” And sometimes that will be a tough question to answer. I would ask, are we running this photo to report the news or for shock value. I can’t offer an objective comparison of news and trash, but like Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart I think I know it when I see it.

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          PRESTON TUREGANO writes:
          Twenty-five years ago this summer, Tribune Entertainment Editor Wayne Carlson and Tribune AME for Features Kay (Jarvis) Prokop kindly accepted a free-lance article I wrote about Santa Fe, N.Mex., and its world-famous Santa Fe Opera, established in 1956 and producing opera on a hillside site four miles north of the town since 1957.
          Last week, I went back (just as I recently went back to Laguna Beach, Calif., for the annual Pageant of the Masters tableaux vivant art show a few months ago after nearly 20 years of saying I intended to go back but just never did).
          Santa Fe remains sublime with prevalent adobe architect; nice weather; cool nights, warm days, and just one 30-minute gully washer Thursday afternoon.
          It seemed to me that the town (the capital of New Mexico) is now overrun by motor vehicles, as well as 80,000 residents and perhaps almost as many tourists during the spring and summer.
          The opera house of today vaguely resembles the house of almost 60 years ago.
Over the past few years, it has been lovingly and smartly re-built. (Photo below of the main floor and stage (it has never had a curtain) and "Salome" set about 30 minutes before the performance seen from my front row mezzanine seat.) In 1990, I wrote that the opera facility didn't sell any snacks, and it did not use English-translation titles above the stage as even the Mighty Met in NYC did. These days, there are munchies, and wine that sells for $10 a glass. Ouch! There's also a new and large gift shop.
          The sides of the opera house remain open to the elements, especially crickets that can be heard all night during any performance. These days, all seating areas are covered, allowing performances to continue even if it rains.
          Of five operas staged this summer (always during July and August), I went to Richard Strauss's "Salome" -- my favorite German opera -- on Thursday and Giuseppe Verdi's utterly melodic "Rigoletto" on Friday. "Salome" was vocally and orchestrally sensational (appropriately a 90-piece ensemble!), but visually a mess. No Biblical, or DeMillian, antics here. The production's lavish costumes looked like the Russian imperial court of the 1850-80s, and the "set" was a big giant silver box that looked like an elongated railroad box car. (You can see it in my photo.) Occasionally, it would turn and spin so the audience could see what was inside, and sometimes a long narrow window would open to the audience could see the royals dining. The effect was much like that of a mobile "roach coach" food truck that opens up its sides when it stops by a business for lunch. Herodias, Salome's mother and wife of King Herod, looked like Dolly Levi in "Hello, Dolly" as she supped. Later, when the box turned 180 degrees, John the Baptist was inside -- his supposed cistern dungeon. Instead of being clad in a loin cloth, he was wearing a dirty two-piece gray suit and he looked like a bespectacled/bearded Russian revolutionary, who was constantly bent over a broken writing/dining table and jotting things on long pieces of paper.
          Salome wore sort of a ball gown -- white -- with a shawl. Alex Penda, a Bulgaria-born vocalist, looked 40ish, about 25 years older than what Salome probably was in real life. But she sang the role to a fare-thee-well. To the dismay of many, she did not do the Dance of the Seven Veils, as the Bible says, and as the libretto dictates. Instead, she stood at the back of the box and moved occasionally as she turned her back to look into the box.
          It narrowed down its visual perspective to a distant rectangular hole, where a 10- or 12-year-old girl dressed just like Salome sat sideways. I guess Salome was imagining, or recalling, how her uncle, now king Herod, molested her as a girl and killed her father, Philip Antipas, and became king and married Salome's mother. How psychological, or what a travail! In fact, I decided that Salome did the Dance of the Seven Travails in this production. Terrible.
          The most over-the-top twist in a twisted tale was the beheading of John the Baptist, which always takes place off stage (in the cistern dungeon). When the time came to bring his head to Salome, the box turned around again back to show the cistern/office/dungeon. John's body was now in his chair and slumped over the side of the table. We could see where his head was severed off. His head was not on a silver platter, but rather at the end of the table, closest to the audience. Eventually, Salome came over and laid on her back atop the table, writhing and singing, and as she is supposed to do, caressing the head and kissing its lips. But unlike in the libretto, which ends with a disgusted Herod telling his guards to "Kill that woman!" there were no guards to do so (they are supposed to crush her beneath their shields). Instead, Salome stood, turned her back to the audience and again gazed at the little girl at the back of the box.
          The jammed packed lily-white audience (demographically just like most of Santa Fe in general; what Mexicans?) didn't know how to react. No booing because of the stage director's "vision." What a bunch of cowards. At the conclusion of every SF opera, the stage lights go out and then come back up for the cast bows. It wasn't until each "Salome" cast member who had a singing part came out that the audience cheered each singer; thunderously for Salome. Brava, indeed!
          "Rigoletto" on Friday was also vocally and orchestrally (perhaps just a 50 or 60-piece orchestra) pleasing, but its problem was costumes. No Italian Renaissance drag here; just a mishmash of mid-to-late 19th century fashion.
          The prostitutes in the Duke's palace during an orgy wore Hooters Restaurant short-shorts, thank you. But there were some really nice shirtless eye-candy men in the group, too. Other than the title character/vocalist (Quinn Kelsey, of Hawaii), no one else was a "big name" opera singer. Santa Fe by tradition is a proving ground for up-and-coming singers. Occasionally, a big name comes to perform, but they are a far-and-few between lot.
          Why so long between my Santa Fe Opera visits? As a rule, the company loves to do world premieres of new compositions, most of which have no melodies, or they do a lot of stuff by obscure 20th century composers. In any case, I was glad I went back. Santa Fe hasn't changed for the worst, but the potential for that to happen is there. Even if you don't like opera, going to a Santa Fe Opera performance might be an unexpected amusement you can talk about to your grandkids, or children. I came back and talked about it to my spouse, Bob, who doesn't care for opera. Our dog, Punky, isn't the least bit bothered when I play an opera CD. Good, Punky, Good!


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          DAVID FARMER writes:
          Tom Gable mourned that his first name is sometimes put to unwelcome uses. Well, here's another: in London, the police often refer to prostitutes as Toms.

          DON BAUDER writes:
          Re names. My father's side of the family came to upstate New York in the 1730s from Germany. My great-grandfather, who was in the wine business, was named DeWitt Clinton Bauder, after the sixth governor of New York who was also a U.S. senator, DeWitt Clinton -- called the father of the Erie Canal. We named our first-born son Donald Clinton Bauder and called him Clinton. People asked us if he was named after Clint Eastwood. Since he was born in 1967, I doubt that we had ever heard of Clint Eastwood, since we see about two movies a year.

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          PAMELA DUGAN writes:
          Bernie Hunt wrote that Americans renting cars in the UK usually are given cars with automatic transmissions "on the reasonable assumption that Yanks are befuddled by" the manual variety. I can drive a stick, but on my first trip overseas, to Ireland in 1985, I paid an extra $25 for automatic transmission. I figured driving on the left side of the road would require enough extra concentration; shifting left-handed would be too much.

          REBER: I think it was in New Zealand that a local told me they could always tell when a car was being driven by an American. The clue was that before each turn the windshield wipers would come on.
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          GENE CIECHANOWSKI forwards:
          So then, if he is elected, will President Trump DOWNGRADE to ride on Air Force One?

          TIM WILSON forwards:
          Some call it "Redneck Reggae”:

          TIM WILSON forwards:
          Photos of the California drought before and after:



P.O. Box 2239
Ramona, CA 92065
U.S.A.

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