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News News Feature

In Praise of Ghouls, Demons, and the Like

The very idea of it sends shivers dancing up my spine like spiders. It’s dusky, the weeping willows hang in the shadows like grappling fingers and the leaves on the sidewalk whisper warnings with each step. Somewhere a howl rings out, probably just a tape player on someoneâs front porch, but maybe not. Maybe not.

It is Halloween and anything can happen. I love Halloween. It combines two of my favorite things — playing dress up and candy — so I’m already naturally predisposed. But I think it touches something deeper than that. As a kid, Halloween was an exercise in creativity. One year I went as a coke machine (read: spray-painted red box); the next as a piece of taffy (read: clumsy, green iridescent wrapper thing.) These days, I choose costumes with whimsy — what I would want to wear if I could wear anything any day of the week.

(I figure when I get older, and by that I mean much older, like nursing home old, I’ll wander around in palatial dress, my walker matching my tiara. And this will be okay because I am old and eccentric. Now though, young and fairly able-bodied, Halloween and weekends alone in my apartment are my saving grace.)

Costumes give normal, regular people, and by that I still include myself regardless of that nursing home thing, a chance to be something they’re not. Once a way of avoiding the beasties of the night by tricking them into thinking you were one of them, perhaps Halloween today gives us a small respite from our more psychological demons and our everyday lives. And of course, again, when I say us, I mean me.

I fear I’ll always see myself as that awkward, shy girl, clad in baby fat and braces. Not to mention my eyesight — better than a bat’s, but not by much — and the weight of glasses that went with it. When I’m dressed up as a Glenda, the good witch, or Madonna, or whatever else, none of those fears seem to apply. Like with any ritual mask used in tribal traditions, the Halloween costume strips the wearer of his real identity and gives credence to some other story, whether it be hopes for the coming season (how many little kids dress up as what they want to be when they grow up?) or figures from cultural mythology (superheros, television personalities, Zorro). The mundane becomes the exceptional.

Choosing a costume also says a lot about the wearer, even if what it’s saying is: I don’t care about Halloween, which is why I’m wearing my regular clothes and telling people I’m an undercover detective. There’s a chance to be funny or clever — the black-eyed peas, the Freudian slips (Just in case you’re interested, to become a black-eyed pea, one creates the appearance of a black eye with your everyday mascara and dark eye shadow. Worst comes to worse, you can use dirt or actually have someone hit you. Then you affix a “P” to your chest. Presto, a Black-eyed pea. The Freudian slip idea is similar, just a slip with the word “Freudian” stuck to the front.) Or a chance to be scary — that is what the holiday is all about. Or whatever you want really. It’s the one chance you really get to be anything you want, anything at all, regardless of age, race, educational background, or lack of superpowers. You just say that’s what you are and people will believe you. No other holiday can do that for you.

And roasted pumpkin seeds aren’t bad either.

(You can write Mary Cashiola at cashiola@memphisflyer.com)

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News News Feature

Residents Wanted

Tunica County, once the poorest county in Mississippi and now one of the richest, is finding out that there are some things money can’t buy. One of them is residents. With a population of about 10,000 people, Tunica County has collected over $200 million in gambling taxes since the casinos came in 1993. The money flows in at the rate of about $4 million a month, enough to fund two new schools, a golf course, miles of new roads, an arena, an airport that will be able to handle jets, a river park and marina, dozens of new law enforcement vehicles, a library expansion, and much more.

And as long as there are gamblers, the money will keep on coming because Mississippi law lets the handful of counties with riverboat casinos take a 4 percent tax levy while the rest of the state shares another 8 percent.

Jobs are plentiful. Three new banks, a half dozen new government buildings, landscaped sidewalks, and a park have dressed up downtown. The open sewer known as “Sugar Ditch,” which once brought national notoriety to Tunica, is long gone thanks to $20 million in water and sewer improvements.

To ice the cake, in September Tunica did away with city property taxes altogether.

For all the apparent prosperity, however, people are not eager to live here.

The casinos have created 14,000 jobs in Tunica County, but most of the employees commute to Memphis or DeSoto County, Mississippi. Tunica County’s estimated population of 10,000 is only about 10 percent more than it was in 1990, before casinos.

”That’s not good growth for a county having the type of economic activity we have had,” says County Administrator Ken Murphree. “We’ve had to compete with the perception that the quality of life is better in DeSoto County.”

With no casinos, DeSoto County gets only a small share of state gambling taxes, yet it is the fastest-growing county in the state, with a population pushing 100,000. Its public and private schools are jammed, and its major roads are lined with shopping malls, churches, and new subdivisions.

Seven years after the onset of gambling, Tunica still has no major grocery store, 24-hour drugstore, or movie theater. There are clusters of new apartments for casino workers stuck out in the middle of cotton and soybean fields but little new single-family housing. The Tunica public schools are under state supervision for poor academic performance. The enrollment is all black and mostly poor.

Drought, combined with the casinos’ appetite for land for roads, golf courses, and hotels, has driven away some of the farmers that were the backbone of Tunica’s old agricultural economy.

“I think we”ve kept losing people since 1990,” says Brooks Taylor, editor and publisher of The Tunica Times. “Farming is depressed, and my husband’s a farmer. Crops are just awful. Everything is dried up.”

The casinos, on the other hand, have been triple winners. They earn over $1.2 billion a year, making Tunica the third most popular casino center in the country behind Las Vegas and Atlantic City. Mississippi’s combined state/local tax rate of 12 percent is lowest of all the states with riverboat gambling; Louisiana, Missouri, Iowa, and Illinois take at least 20 percent. And in Tunica, a large share of gambling tax revenue goes right back into infrastructure and amenities that mainly benefit the casinos, including $50 million of roads, a $38 million airport with a 7,000-foot runway (the county’s share is $12 million), and a $10 million marina for touring riverboats.

By comparison, an adult literacy program got only $30,000 last year from the casino windfall and had to rely on United Way for an additional $68,000 in funding. Betty Jo Dulaney, director of the Tunica County Literacy Council, estimates that half the adults in Tunica County are illiterate.

“Most of the people that come to this program do not read well enough to pass the G.E.D., which is what employers require for skilled jobs,” she says.

When the board of supervisors met in August to approve the $74 million budget for fiscal year 2001, the literacy council got only an additional $24,000.

It isn’t that Tunica has ignored the needs of its own citizens. Twelve percent of all casino revenues, or about $25 million to date, goes to the Tunica County Board of Education. The county has hired a full-time housing director to help people with home ownership. The library has more than doubled in size and circulation, and there are new ballfields and an indoor public recreation center.

If gambling’s rising tide has not lifted all boats, even social activists like Sister Gus Griffin of Tunica’s Catholic Social Services agree it has lifted many of them. ÒI think it’s amazing the number of families who, once they had a job, took off on their own,” she says. “I think that’s the miracle of Tunica.”

At a recent public hearing on the budget, she was the only person to speak. She asked if a hospital was on the list of expenditures. No, she was told, it was not. But two clinics are available, and a doctor is supposed to be on duty 24 hours a day.

Sister Griffin simply nodded. She has been working in Tunica for 10 years. Government, she says in an interview after the hearing, has become more open and responsive to local needs but still has a long way to go in housing, education, job training, and public transportation. “We have people come into our office every day looking for housing,” she says. The Tunica County Housing Project, funded by Catholic charities and various grants, has built 30 new single-family homes east of U.S. Highway 61, with 11 more in the works. The housing organization had to put in all the water, sewer, and roads itself. Less than a mile away, $38 million of federal and local government funds will be used to build the new airport, shaving 15 to 30 minutes off the current distance from Memphis International to the casinos.

The other big concern for Tunica has been attracting new citizens, especially the mid-level and upper-level casino workers who live in DeSoto County and Memphis.

“A lot of employees came here from bigger communities and are used to having more in the way of amenities in the place where they live,” says David Rogers, vice president of human resources for Hollywood Casino, who commutes 45 minutes to work. “That and the number of rooftops in Tunica County limits the population.”

So Tunica is taking steps, sometimes with considerable controversy, to change its image to appeal to them. A $10 million municipal golf course is planned. A consulting firm suggested it could be a magnet for new upscale homes. The $25 million arena, which opened in August with a farm expo, will also compete with a new arena in DeSoto County for general entertainment like rodeos and tractor pulls.

The most controversial addition is the new public elementary school in the northern part of the county near the casinos. Backers hope it will be a catalyst for new housing and attract both black and white students. Plans for the school were approved last year after the U.S. Department of Justice, a federal judge, the Mississippi attorney general, and a citizens group hammered out a consent decree.

Nearly a year later, steel has been erected, but the school is not expected to open until 2001. Capacity will be 500, but only 250 students are projected to enroll initially.

[This story originally appeared in the October issue of Memphis magazine.]

(You can write John Branston at branston@memphismagazine.com)

Categories
Music Music Features

The Dixie Chicks with Willie Nelson Opening

At the Dixie Chicks concert Saturday at the Pyramid, country legend Willie Nelson opened the show with a quick, rambling greatest hits set obviously geared towards a crowd that probably wasn’t very familiar with his huge catalogue. So Nelson stuck to obvious fare like “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,” “Always on My Mind,” and his de facto theme song, “On the Road Again.” Playing before a backdrop that promoted his Web site (www.willienelson.com, if you were wondering) and with a seven-piece band that included bass, harmonica, piano (looked like his sister Bobbie), two percussionists, and two additional guitars, this was classic Nelson– braided ponytails, red bandana, and red, white, and blue guitar strap.

Nelson closed his set with a mini-tribute to two of the few American musicians whose stature rivals his own, offering up versions of Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya” and “My Bucket’s Got a Hole In It,” and the Elvis-identified “Just Because.” And, speaking of the King, Nelson tossed red bandanas to the crowd with the frequency that Vegas-era Elvis used to toss scarves.

Nelson’s set seemed a little off, as if the weirdness of his being an opening act and the musically unfriendly arena atmosphere were cramping his style. In this context, the Dixie Chicks put on a better show, in fact, one of the best arena shows I’ve seen in a long time. The rootsy pop band played an 18-song set and two-song encore before an adoring sell-out crowd of dolled-up dixie chicks and the guys who tagged along. Live, they confirmed two of my previously held beliefs: That they’re a lot better on the up-tempo pop stuff than the slow ones and harder country songs, and that although their records are merely decent, this is about the most invigorating and culturally righteous really popular pop music around today.

Cynics and lazy critics grouse that the band is a country music Spice Girls, but, as this performance made clear, the world that produced country icons past isn’t the same one that produced the Dixie Chicks, and this band speaks to and for their female, suburban fan base in as honest, direct, and engaging a manner as you could hope.

Opening the show with their best single, the not-ready-to-settle-down anthem “Ready to Run” and closing the dopier sexual liberation manifesto “Sin Wagon,” this isn’t your grandmother’s country music, and I say good for them. Glammed-up, moving freely around the stage, and leading their all-male band with the musical skill critics like to gloss over, the show leaned heavily on their two multi-platinum albums, and if neither of those records is quite ready for the time capsule, the show’s succession of engaging and recognizing hits — even to a non-fan like me — proved that this band has a pretty good greatest hits album in their future.

After a brief pause, the band opened their encore by surprising the crowd with lead singer Natalie Maines playing from the concert floor at the back of the hall and sisters Martie Seidel (violin) and Emily Robison (mandolin) playing from the rafters on opposite ends of the Pyramid. The band played, “Goodbye Earl,” their controversial hit about a woman who murders her abusive husband. The band then returned to the stage for a show-closing crowd sing-along of its own de facto theme song, “Wide Open Spaces,” sending everybody home happy.

(You can write Chris Herrington at herrington@memphisflyer.com)

Categories
Politics Politics Feature

Waiting for Bob Dylan

Christy thinks Democrats are lousy tippers.

“But you know, with these things you expect it,” the young waitress continued. “Everyone figures that they paid their money so they could be here and they don’t want to spend any more on tips.”

The Democrats she’s referring to are the crush of people who filled the Wildhorse Saloon in Nashville last week for a concert and party that, together with other passings of the hat Tuesday, netted the Gore campaign $4.2 million.

Christy and the other servers elbowed through the crowd to serve food and especially drinks to the donors, most of whom showed signs of rumpling and sweating, due to the room’s heat, well before the concert actually started. People huddled three deep at the bar, drinking cocktails out of plastic cups (glassware had been prohibited) and leaving the empty cups strewn on all bare surfaces (the secret service had removed the trash cans).

About two hours after the Wildhorse opened its doors to guests, a long string of noticeably weary and disheveled national journalists filed in, settling into the press riser and trying to capture a new angle on a story they’ve already compiled dozens of times during this campaign season.

“If you’re waiting for Bob Dylan, you might as well go home,” said one clearly agitated man to no one in particular. “That’s why I bought my ticket, but Dylan being here is just a rumor that was started by the Bush campaign.”

Though this was apparently a well-circulated rumor, the outspoken man was the only one present with a theory on its origin. Instead of the legendary folk singer, campaign contributors were treated to a varied lineup that began with Billy Ray Cyrus and ended with Tony Bennett, with Kim Richey, Patty Loveless, and Bebe Winans in between.

The very bloated and still mullet-sporting Cyrus took the stage first, playing a handful of songs, including his early Nineties hit, “Some Gave All,” a tribute to Vietnam vets.

“This year we’ve got an opportunity to elect the first Commander in Chief who also served in Vietnam,” Cyrus remarked during his introduction to the song. At this comment, Al Gore, sitting on the saloon’s second-floor balcony alongside wife Tipper and running mate Joe Lieberman and Hadassah Lieberman, pursed his lips into a tight line, wrinkled his brow in thought, and nodded his head slowly and appreciatively, in an expression that seemed to reveal his thoughts — something like “Yeah, that’s good, remember that, use that.”

The mostly B-list performers seemed antsy and overwhelmed at the prospect of performing for the vice president and his running mate, with only Tony Bennett looking completely at ease. Bennett strutted and snapped through a repertoire of his best known hits, equally working a crowd composed of Ann Taylor-clad campaign workers and blue jeans-sporting labor union members. Though Bennett was a daunting act to follow, it was Al Gore who drew thunderous applause from the audience, his reception being second only to the one given to Eddie George, the Tennessee Titans well-loved running back who emceed the evening’s events.

Gore eventually took the stage, markedly at ease and occasionally drawing laughs from the crowd, despite the circles under his eyes and the leaden weight that caused his feet to drag with each step.

The Gore lovefest was only heightened when the veep contrasted the bright, sunny, beautiful day that November 8th would be if he is elected with the dreary, cold, gray day that he says the Wednesday after election day will be if George W. Bush wins the presidency. At this, the crowd cheered and thrust their “Gore/Lieberman” signs higher in the air, pressing forward in an attempt to shake the presidential and vice-presidential hopefuls hands.

As the festivities drew to a close, the secret service men’s faces screwed into looks of deep concentration, cautiously eyeing everyone who drew near the candidates. Orlando, a secret service officer who had been surprisingly chatty earlier in the evening, disappeared at this point, sucked back into a job that called for him to protect Joe and Hadassah and Al and Tipper from the bad tippers.

(You can write Rebekah Gleaves at gleaves@memphisflyer.com)

Categories
Politics Politics Feature

Gore on the Stump in Tennessee

NASHVILLE — “Too dark, it’s way too dark in here, I can already tell,” said a cameraman to a mass of media types, none of whom were listening to him because cell phones were pressed to their ears.

It was just after 10 a.m. and Tennessee State University’s Poag Theater was beginning to fill on this Wednesday morning.

First in was a seemingly endless string of journalists. Cameramen lugged oppressively heavy equipment, trudged to the camera platform and began the Sisyphean task of checking light and sound, assembling and disassembling gear.

Reporters settled into seats in the theater, not caring that their view was completely obscured by the camera platform. Apparently after sitting through a few of these speeches, seeing the candidates becomes unimportant.

Secret Service men, betrayed by the squiggly cord trailing out of their ears, stood rapt in the doorways and attentive at the metal detector, giving each entrant a through, albeit brief, once over. Meanwhile, the reporters continued to mill about, sitting first in one seat, then another, flipping through copies of The Tennessean, then walking upstairs to the balcony, most of them more concerned with finding an available electrical outlet for their notebook computers than gaining a better vantage point.

“Does anyone know what this one is about?” asked one reporter to about a dozen others.

“Education,” came the answer from a disembodied voice.

“Does anyone have the text of the speech?” asked the first reporter.

“Not yet,” came the mystery person’s answer.

After about 20 minutes passed, students at the historically black college began to enter the theater. The rows in front of the media riser filled quickly. Students who sat in the reserved press seats were asked to move to accommodate the visiting reporters, and there was a bit of back-and-forthing, with the same groups of people standing, then sitting, then being asked to stand again, until it was realized there was a seat for everybody, or at least an out-of-the-way place to stand.

After the din of gossip and one-sided cell phone conversations had subsided, a noticeably nervous TSU student body president managed to say a few encouraging words to his fellow students before introducing Senator Joe Lieberman, the Democratic vice-presidential candidate.

Lieberman greeted the group by saying that he’d never had a bad day in Tennessee and then proceeded to tell a joke about a couple of college students who overslept an exam and asked their history history professor for a make-up on the excuse that they’d had a flat tire on the way to take the exam. The prof said fine, okay, then sat the students down in separate rooms, and gave each of them a two-part make-up exam. First part: for 5 points: Who was president during the Civil War? Second part: for 95 points: Which tire?

Thus was the credibility issue, so often vented during this campaign year, vented again at TSU. Ultimately, Lieberman wrapped it up and introduced the head of the ticket, Vice President Al Gore. The two men hugged on stage before Gore took the mike to ask the crowd, “Wouldn’t Joe make a terrific vice president?” The question, like most of the speech which followed was expressed in the vice president’s patented Golly-gee-give-him-a-gold-star Eddie Haskell speaking style.

Shortcuts

Gore’s speech itself was mostly centered on education, and the day’s leitmotif was the word “shortcut.” As in: “If we want our children to learn and grow, there aren’t any shortcuts.” Or: “If we want to raise the standards for every child, there aren’t any shortcuts.” Or: If we truly want to reform American education, there aren’t any shortcuts.”

Gore criticized his Republican opponent, Texas Governor George W. Bush, for talking about education reform, but not acting on his reform promises in Texas.

The vice president then set out to debunk a Rand Corporation study that Bush had evidently used as proof of education reform in Texas by citing a new Rand study, released only this week, showing, said Gore, that the education gap in Texas is widening.

An audible groan arose from the 200-plus students gathered in the theater, with echoes from the several hundred more who listened to the speeches through speakers positioned in an amphitheater outside of the building, when Gore maintained that Bush’s education reform plan would only increase the number of Pell grants awarded to freshman students, not the number granted to all students.

“That’s not a path to a college degree. That’s a path to a college dropout,” Gore said to enthusiastic applause from the students. He concluded his speech by saying– what else?– that Bush’s education reform plan was a “shortsighted shortcut in education policy.”

Immediately following his speech, the room came alive with the sounds of rhythm and blues music. First, the Jackson Five’s “ABC” blasted over the PA system and many of the students cautiously danced to the song as they pressed forward to get near the vice president. When that song ended, Arrested Development’s “Tennessee” began to play, and the students who weren’t already dancing, began to sing along softly. By the time James Brown’s “Feel Good” came coursing through the room, the crowd had become even less inhibited and the two candidates had left the building, off to meet the plane that would take them the day’s next stop at the fairgrounds in Jackson, the West Tennessee home of Gore’s maternal ancestors, the LaFons.

”Who’s Related to Me?”

Indeed, when Gore and Lieberman and a number of regional and state Democratic dignitaries– former governor Ned McWherter, state Gore-Lieberman director Roy Herron, U.S. Senate candidate Jeff Clark, state House Speaker Pro Tem Lois DeBerry, et al, et al.– ended up on a platform at the Jackson fairgrounds, the vice president issued a public call: “How many of you out there are related to me?” A generous number of hands protruded from the 2,000 or so people gathered in the July-like heat.

What the crowd heard was standard Gorefare– the usual talking points about “revolutionary changes” in education, protection of the environment, shoring up Social Security and Medicare, paying down the national debt, and “fighting for the working people” of Tennessee and the nation.

Stripped of his coat and with white shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the vice president got downright shucksy. The man who was famous for having his surrogates leak his international derring-do to the national press, his friendships with foreign heads of state and so forth, told this crowd: “You know, the local newspaper wants me to talk about foreign policy. I don’t usually do that, but I will.”

He then talked, in a brief and obligatory manner, about his ability to handle foreign crises and quickly resumed the catch phrases of his domestic concerns– “fighting for you,” “an equal day’s pay for an equal day’s work,” “pledge to treat teachers like the professionals they are.”

Gore eventually wound to his peroration: “I want you to fight for me so I can fight for you. I want you to feel my passion.” (To which an unfriendly demonstrator– one of several anti-abortion protesters who had infiltrated the rally with their signs– muttered audible, “I want you to feel my passion!”

At the end, though, just before some impressive fireworks and strings of confetti shot from guns, there was impressive enough applause from the crowd, and Gore departed the platform and set to shaking hands and pressing the flesh while the portable soundtrack played the usual staples, including, once again, James Brown’s “I Feel Good.”

Then the veep was off to Kansas City for a rally while running mate Joe Lieberman headed west to Memphis for a private big-ticket reception.

{Jackson Baker contributed to this story.]

(You can write Rebekah Gleaves at gleaves@memphisflyer.com)

Categories
Politics Politics Beat Blog

Yes, We Have Some Second Bananas!

With Tennessee’s 11 electoral votes known to be up for grabs and all the main players in state for comparison purposes this week, one consequence has been to reinforce the impression TV viewers formed some while back about the smoother styles of the vice-presidential candidates vis-a-vis their ticket heads.

Democrat Joe Lieberman and Republican Dick Cheney both came, saw, and conquered.

Lieberman, however, suffered from a disadvantage. His best go, like Cheney’s only one, was in Memphis, where the Democrat’s remarks were confined to a smallish, throughly screened big-spender audience in private, while Cheney’s were let go in full view of a high school assembly and the gathered media.

First, Lieberman: some weeks ago various influential Memphis Democrats, including some activists in the city’s Jewish community, hatched the idea of a fundraiser for the Democratic ticket that would galvanize assorted Memphians who had not yet invested much attention in this year’s campaign.

Many of those were Jewish, and some of the early planners consequently characterized the event in embryo as a “big Jewish fundraiser.” But they intended it to be only one component of an ensemble event that would include a public entertainment on the riverside Mud Island site and might involve Vice President Al Gore as well.

Both the Democratic National Committee and the Tennessee Democratic Victory 2000 committee were lobbied hard for a combination event on the date of October 24th.

A Closed Event

When push came to shove, however, and the direness of the vice president’s home-state positon became obvious (he started trailing in several key polls,for example), a decision was made to go to Nashville instead Ñ leaving the Memphis area only the fundraiser.

That ended up not sitting well with Memphis Democrats who feel they’ve been short-shrifted by the ticket, despite the fact that, over and over again, they’ve proved their willingness to go to the ends of Tennessee and elsewhere to support Gore’s cause.

In any event, Lieberman made his appearance Wednesday night at the East Memphis home of Bernice Cooper, widow of the late Irby Cooper, who died in July. Cooper owned a fleet of hotels (including the East Memphis Hilton and, at one time, Nashville’s Hermitage), and was a well-known philaanthropic figure and a consistently supportive one in Democratic ranks.

His son Pace Cooper is picking up more or less where his father left off, and was able to turn out some blue-ribbon political figures (e.g., both Memphis Mayor Willie Herenton and former U.S. Rep. Harold Ford Sr., his political rival) and donors for the occasion.

In one sense, the event was a clear success– raising an estimated $600,000 in far less time than it took to raise a claimed $4.3 million in Nashville over two days this week– but it took place in a vacuum.

Lieberman was, as usual with an audience, both genial and elegant, and he employed his essentially conservative mien to draw contrasts with the rebate-minded Republicans he and Gore are now having to compete with.

Democrats and Solvency

Boasting the current balanced budget and high prosperity, Lieberman told his 70-odd auditors, “It would have been hard for a Democrat to say 15 years ago, but after the last eight years we’ve earned the right to say we are the party of economic growth and fiscal responsibility.”

And he promised: “We’re going to continue the growth by balancing the budget, paying down the debt, by living within our means. And then by making choices that have consequences about how we’re going to spend what’s left of the surplus.”

Lieberman minced no words about why he was in Tennessee. “It’s been a remarkably close race, and it probably will be right down to the end. but I feel we have got momentum on our side as we head into the last two weeks.” Pointedly, he added,

“The kind of money you’ve raised here tonight will keep us on the air in one of the big states for a week. It will allow us to get out the vote in states where that could be a determinant factor.”

Lieberman concluded his remarks with an evaluation of the Memphis event that was especially meaningful to the Jewish members of his audience, “This is the last Gore-Lieberman fundraiser of the campaign,” he said, comparing it to a siyum (pronounced ‘see-yum’), the ceremony that, for a Talmudic student, marks the completion of a stage of study.

There will be one more big fundraiser in the campaign, an official of the D.N.C. explained later, however. This one, in Washington , will involve gay and Lesbian donors and will feature President Bill Clinton.

Bush’s Better Half?

The visit of Republican vice-presidential candidate Dick Cheney to Germantown High School in suburban Shelby County was an easy, good-natured outing for the former Defense Department official, who served George Bush the elder during his presidency and now could be a crucial element in the success of George Bush the younger.

The GHS visit followed a breakfast meeting with 30 local Republican cadres, and the sunny mood generated there followed him to the podium in the high school gymnasium.

Two daughters accompanied Cheney to Memphis– Mary, whose gay lifestyle may have given her markedly tolerant father crossover appeal rather than a cross to bear, and Liz, who introduced Cheney after recalling his probably apochryphal advice to her: “Liz, don’t screw this up!”

Speaking in front of a wall mount which sequenced the words “Bipartisanship,” “Honor and Integrity,” and “Results” over and over, Cheney began by noting that he had done next to no campaigning in his own home state of Wyoming. About the result there, he said, “I am confident.” The very fact that the current week had seen Gore– less than two weeks out from the election– having to exert himself in his native Tennessee was meaningful, said Cheney. ” We’re going to carry Tennessee on November 7th.”

By the Numbers

Much of Cheney’s talk was devoted to numbers. Gore’s spending proposals would exceed the expected surplus by some $900 billion, he said. The much-vaunted job reduction claimed by Gore from “reinventing” government had come almost exclusively– some 85 percent– from the nation’s overly depleted military ranks. 25 people involved with the 1996 Clinton-Gore fundraising effort had been indicted . In his 1998 Texas relection effort, Governor George W. Bush had won 27 percent of the African-American vote and 50 percent of the Hispanic vote.

And so forth and so on. In a curious way, Cheney’s numbers game created a bond with his audience. And in the Q and A that followed his brief remarks he disposed of the one or two unfriendly questioners deftly and without malice.

To a student who made unflattering statements about the Reagan administration, Cheney said, affably enough, “Well, I have a somewhat different view of President Reagan than you do. . .”, and proceeded into a carefully stated apologia .

(Cheney managed his defense of the Great Communicator, perpetrator of Iran-Contra, while simultaneously chastising the Clinton-Gore administration for what he said was winking at the sale of Russian arms to Iran.)

For all his measured obedience to his team’s talking points, however, Cheney avoided anything like the hard line. In his conclusion, he made the obligatory request for his auditors’ votes but said, “If you decide to go the other way, that’s all right.” He noted that his own father had been a lifelong Democrat who reluctantly consented to vote Republican after his son became one of the GOP’s stars but insisted on givng his political allegiance a formal review every two years.

So there you had it, two vice-presidential candidates, equally winning, each a vicar for his ticket, the one soaking up bucks in private for use in other states, the other building bridges in public for the sake of winning the state he was in.

Time would tell which was the superior strategy.

Categories
Sports Sports Feature

Wrestling Ring Announcer Publishes Book

Gary Michael Cappetta relates over 21 years of experience in the world of professional wrestling in his new book, Bodyslams! The book is a personal account of Cappetta’s experience in and out of the ring as one of wrestling’s more important in-ring announcers. Cappetta has worked in both the World Wrestling Federation (WWF) and World Championship Wrestling (WCW).

Cappetta sheds light into the mysteriously private world of professional wrestlers that he describes as “a game of deception” in which performers regularly take advantage of each other, promoters ruthlessly lie and cheat to maintain power, and where the ultimate “con” has nothing to do with what goes on inside the ring.

Much of the book relates Cappetta’s experiences traveling with the wrestlers. In one story, Cappetta tells of traveling with a young Mark Calloway, who WWF fans know as the Undertaker. According to Cappetta, Calloway met up with a fellow wrestler who had earlier swindled the younger athlete by running out on a wrestling school contract with Calloway, leaving the future wrestling star with a great deal of debt. Though Calloway never personally exacted revenge, the rogue wrestler that was Calloway’s target died of an overdose 2 years later. Cappetta says that the Calloway story is a good example of how “some of the wrestlers feed on the younger guys.”

In addition to Cappetta’s experiences with the wrestlers, the book describes Cappetta’s own dealings with the television executives who hold a power over the performers. In one instance, Cappetta recounts his falling out with WCW due to the shenanigans of one Eric Bishchoff, then executive vice-president of Turner broadcasting, directly in charge of wrestling operations.

According to Cappetta, Bishchoff repeatedly brushed off Cappetta’s interest in renewing his contract with WCW and even forced Cappetta into an agreement where Cappetta would work with WCW, without a contract. However, Cappetta decided to buck the entire system and walked out on WCW, and the wrestling world.

However, Cappetta is not bitter about his experiences. About Bodyslams!, he says, “It’s my desire that when the public reads Bodyslams! they will think they have read an honest, even account of an industry twisted by personal gain.” He goes on to say, “There are a lot of people I praise.”

Cappetta is currently working on a second book, this one about a fictional wrestler’s rise to the top and eventual fall.

Bodyslams! is available by calling 1-800-BODYSLAMS or through the book’s website, www.bodyslams.com.

(You can write Chris Przybyszewski at chris@memphisflyer.com)

Categories
Sports Sports Feature

Our Baseball Holiday

No matter how much my stomach turns as the Yankees and Mets clash in this stop-the-presses Subway Series — a New York team has to lose, I remind myself — there remains a transcendent quality to the World Series from which I simply cannot turn away. The Super Bowl is a one-day extravaganza, to say the least. The Final Four, the Kentucky Derby, even the Daytona 500, all have their virtues as classic championships. But for the most sports-intoxicated country on earth, the definitive American contest is still the World Series. (Remember Jack Nicholson’s impassioned plea in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? “It’s the World Series, Nurse Ratched! The World Series!!”)

The time has come — we’re actually overdue — for a national sports holiday. After all, how can a country so wrapped up in celebrating games not have a date on the calendar devoted to just that? And I have just the date: Game 4 of the World Series. Now hear me out on this.

Sadly, America is generally falling out of touch with its national pastime. This is due in part to outrageous salaries, superstars jumping from team to team, and the saturation of the sports page by the likes of the NFL, NASCAR, and the NBA. Whatever the reason, the most important step baseball must take to return to the front of the line is to re-establiish the connection with its very lifeblood: children.

As almighty network television currently has it, every World Series game begins in prime time. The final out is often recorded well beyond midnight on the east coast. Ten-year-old boys and girls have to be in bed by the third or fourth inning for crying out loud. Money makes the TV world go round, though, so how to get the Series back under sunshine? This is where our holiday comes in.

Every fall, on the Wednesday of World Series week — typically when Game 4 is played — Americans should get a day off from work. Government offices close for the day. Banks close for the day. And, most importantly, all schools close for the day.

With our holiday — let’s call it National Baseball Day — television would have no excuse for forcing the World Series into prime time. We’ll see the first pitch of Game 4 no later than two o’clock Eastern. Baseball with shadows, eye black, outfielders with sunglasses . . . the way the game should be seen. And with a nationwide audience of children able to watch every last pitch.

We’d have to really make it an event. Perhaps the season’s batting and home run champions could be honored before Game 4. Instead of mind-numbing analysis from media types, maybe the pre-game festivities could include an annual legends tribute, where each league can be represented by a hero of days gone by. (This year? How about Whitey Ford and Tom Seaver?) Something, anything to remind us all that baseball is a part of this country’s fabric.

Would everybody tune in for the game on National Baseball Day? Of course not. And that’s fine. Go to the lake. Picnic with your family. Visit a museum. Take the dog to the park. Just remind yourself, however you enjoy the day: baseball — and the World Series — got you there.

(You can write Frank Murtaugh at murtaugh@memphismagazine.com)

Categories
Politics Politics Beat Blog

Where’s Bill?

The envelope, please: Answers are No, Yes, and Who Knows? The questions are: Is Gore coming to Memphis this week? Is Lieberman coming to Memphis? Is Gore going to do what everybody in politics except himself and his immediate entourage thinks is necessary: i.e., invite Bill Clinton out on the campaign trail with him while there’s still time?

Gore: The vice president will be everywhere but Memphis this week. He and wife Tipper will be in Little Rock Tuesday morning, then will fly to Shreveport, Louisiana, then to Nashville, where Lieberman and wife Hadassah will join up for a pair of shebangs (a Wild Horse Saloon affair and a DNC fundraiser) Tuesday night. Another couple of ops in the state capital on Wednesday, and then the Democratic ticket will go to Jackson for an afternoon event.

That’s the closest Gore will come to Memphis until the weekend before the election, when (U.S. Rep. Harold Ford Jr., one of his state co-chairs, promises) he will domicile overnight in Memphis.

After the event in Jackson, a Fairgrounds rally with Lieberman, the vice president will fly to Kansas City for another rally and an overnight.

Lieberman: The vice president and his wife will come to Memphis from Jackson later Wednesday night for a 5 p.m. event at the University of Memphis, followed by a $5,000-a-head fundraiser at the home of Bernice Cooper, widow of the late Irby Cooper, a well-loved philanthropist, hotelier, and Democratic loyalist who died earlier this year, just before the Fourth of July. (Son Pace Cooper, who maintains his father’s political connections, was instrumental in arranging the visit.)

Clinton: Almost every Democrat who’s willing to speak on the issue (and most are) believe that the best way – maybe the only way – for the vice president to win the election is to invite out on the campaign trail with him the man who is (a) widely regarded as the best campaigner of our time; and (b) as entitled to take credit for the current prosperity and (fragile) peace as anybody else.

Rep. Ford, who did a star turn at Temple Israel Monday night in a debate with Bush’s Tennessee director David Kustoff, put it simply; “I would!” when asked whether Gore should extend an immediate invitation to the president.

But, as the New York Times noted in a well-read P1 article last Friday, there are strained feelings between Gore and Clinton (as between members of their families and respective entourages), and the vice president seems determined to keep the president at arm’s length. A Gore surrogate, New Republic publisher Martin Peretz was putting the word out that if Gore lost the reason could be put in two words: ‘Bill Clinton.’

Columnists began to pile on at Gore’s expense – the Times‘s Maureen Dowd, Salon‘s Joan Walsh, and assorted others. Most of them suggested what increasing numbers of rank-and-file Democrats believe, that if two words account for Gore’s currently faltering position (Republican opponent George W. Bush now leads in all polls), they are more likely to be ‘Al Gore.’

Indeed, Walsh , in a piece entitled “Let the Big Dog Out,” went so far as to refer to “Al Gore’s cowardly refusal to run of President Clinton’s legacy.” And Oran Quintrell, a Memphis Democrat who circulates a widely read email newsletter, hit a similar theme.

The closer I watch this election, the more it seems that Al Gore is making this a one-man show,” Quintrell observed about Gore. “I do not see him campaigning extensively with other Democrats, especially those that speak directly to the base. I do not see him tying his message to the message of the other party-standard bearers. When I see him on TV, he is standing there alone more often than not. I am getting the impression that the Gore campaign sees this as an election about Al Gore.

“Well, it’s not. This election is about me. And you. And you, too, over there. Clinton always understood this. At least, he gave the impression that he did, which is what counts.”

Given the spate of Gore biographies in the last year, virtually all of which make a point about Al. Jr.’s domination by his father, the lordly and leonine Senator Albert Gore, it is tempting to get out one’s Freudian primer, blow off the dust, and conclude that the current Gore is attempting to substitute Daddy Bill for the Father that must be repudiated for the son (so plainly uncertain at times about his own identity) to claim his rightful destiny.

Politically, that would seem to be as risky a strategy right now as it might seem psychically necessary.

(You can write Jackson Baker at baker@memphisflyer.com)

Categories
News News Feature

Blaming a Name

My name is Mary Elizabeth Cashiola. Probably that means nothing to you, I don’t expect it to. It’s not the name of anyone famous, or anything special. It’s just my name, the one I was given at birth and the one I have hated since shortly thereafter.

I’ve always thought names carry a weight — even though the Bard said that a rose by any other would smell as sweet, I don’t buy it. At the same price, most people would choose the label over the generic. Teenagers forming their first band pick the name before they write the songs, sometimes even before they learn the instruments. Names carry clues as to what something is, what is does, what it wants, where its going.

In my case, I don’t think my parents were foisting off any of their intentions on me, no dreams for unparalleled greatness or any hopes for a certain type of person. They simply took my grandmother’s name, her having died many years before I was born, and honoring her, gave it to me. As simple as that.

But that simple decision, while not anything of consequence, has made its impact on my life. I’ve always felt constrained by Mary, like because of it, I was boxed into a way of being or a certain type of personality. Maybe this seems silly, but every name has a mythology. Mine means “Mother of Christ.” I know people aren’t consciously thinking about it, but there are certain things associated with Mary: Catholic, virgin mother. It’s like when they hear my last name and automatically say, “That’s Italian, right?”

When I was younger, I felt I had a duty to be religious. I feigned an increased piety because I thought my Sunday school teachers expected it of a girl named Mary. (In an ironic twist of sins, I lied and told them I liked church.)

My name in particular connotates Catholicism and Christianity, but every name has its own history. For some names, someone so special used them that the name will forever be associated with that person. In America, the name George sounds regal and political and is someone who can be counted upon in times of crisis.

Other names are associated with different time periods: Ethel and Mabel are ladies who quilt; Joan is a woman of integrity and maturity and Jennifer is almost every female under 30. Haven’t you ever met someone and heard them say, “You don’t look like a Michelle.” Or a Herbert or a John or a Trina. Names conjure up certain images in people’s minds, depending on race and culture and age.

Besides all the Bible characters, Mary has two nursery rhymes (and you better believe I heard them all the time on the school bus), plus a whole legendry in popular culture: Mary Tyler Moore, Giligan’s Island’s Mary Ann, Mary Lou Retton, all your run of the mill good girls, except for Mother Goose’s contrary gardener. It’s not that I’ve ever wanted to live a life of crime or run rampage across the country. And had I wanted to do those things, I would have, whether my name was Mary or Bonnie or Bella.

But Mary sounds to me mealy-mouthed and docile, a name for someone good and sweet and innocent. Someone nice. And I don’t want to be any of those things. I want to be worldly and in charge and screw the other guy.

And I know that I can change the connotation of my name; I can be whomever I want. Just sometimes I wonder, is there a name that is more fitting for the person I’ve become? Would it have made a difference, really, had my name been Alex or Pagan? If my name had been Tatiana, would I become a world traveler? If I had been called Ruby or Starr, would I have still gotten straight A’s?

In the end, I know that names really don’t mean all that much. Names merely conjure expectations while the real factors in who a person is are genetics, location, and experiences. But when I told you my name earlier, who did you think I was?

(You can write Mary — we call her Tatiana — Cashiola at cashiola@memphisflyer.com)