Each of us must have a quiet place, a safe and solemn refuge. A go-to spot where we can chill. Always, but especially in this summer of our discontent.
It should be handy, a room at home away from family tumult, or a sanctuary of sorts but a short stroll away, a getaway for decompression and contemplation. Read the rest of this entry »
The refrigerator repair guy, the guy from an appliance service outfit without a local address or phone number that I was forced to use for warranty work because the owner of the store where I bought the icebox called me “full of crap” when I had the audacity to ask for a replacement washer when that appliance which I also bought there came with a cracked drum; the service guy who would only commit to show up to come fix an over cooling problem on the top shelf of our very chic black mirrored Jenn-Air sometime between 8:00 and 5:00 and ten days at that after a bottle of root beer froze and exploded inside; the guy dressed as crisply as the Maytag guy on TV and who is supposed to be the expert sent by the manufacturer; that guy, when he finally posted late in the afternoon, opened the fridge door and saw a gizmo inside that is part of the fancy schmantzy side-by-side, pointed at it and asked me, “Uh, what’s that thing?” Read the rest of this entry »
In order to move beyond this vexation, I must vent about yet another significant moment in what is euphemistically referred to among my immediate peers as the anschluss of maturation. If for therapeutic purposes only, you understand.
Attempting to move beyond deceptive nomenclature, what we’re talking about here is . . . well . . . aging. Getting older. When the mind becomes set on making promises one’s body can’t keep. When you want to rock & roll until the break of day, but 11:00 p.m. rolls around and Mr. Sleepyhead starts walking toward the parking lot. This trend, when ready, manifests itself with terrible swift sword. Read the rest of this entry »
The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina is still being assessed. Not the least of which devastation is the extent to which the vibrant music scene of New Orleans has been battered, how the players have scattered hither and yon. There are still too many of the Crescent City’s stalwarts exiled in the Diaspora.
Among the more notable expatriots are the brothers Neville. Some are in Austin. One, at least, in Nashville. It’s hard to know for sure. What is certain is that there has been a breach in the relationship between “New Orleans First Family of Music” and the city it has come to represent. Normally the closing act at JazzFest, the band hasn’t returned for either of the two post-tragedy festivals. Read the rest of this entry »
It is prime time for television, half past 9:00 o’clock p.m., just a few hours after the president of the United States has commuted the sentence of a vice presidential aide convicted of a felony against the country.
Not one of the three major cable news networks is discussing the issue. MSNBC and Fox are talking about that wrestler who killed his wife and kid and might have been on steroids at the time. On CNN, Larry King is interviewing that actor who made homophobic slurs against a fellow member of the cast of his TV show and was fired. Read the rest of this entry »
