Today s big bash is kickoff day of the Saturday-Sunday Earth Day Birthday at the Shell with an impressive musical lineup that includes Kaleidoscope, FreeWorld, Sonny, The Grown-Up Wrongs, Katrina & Rebekah, Nancy Apple, The Minivan Blues Band, Kirk Smithhart, Orange Minute, Thingamajig, The Joint Chiefs, Eric Hughes, Steve Cox, Misty White, Amy Jamison, Delta Grass, Grunt, Dahrius, Stout, Parallel Parker, Chris Scott, and The Subteens. The Memphis Redbirds start their four-day run this afternoon against Colorado Springs. There s a Cooper-Young Neighborhood Spring Fling today at First Congregational Church, featuring live music by local artists, art vendors, martial-arts demonstrations, and information booths. The Chris Whitley Band and Johnny Society are at The Lounge tonight. FreeWorld is playing at the Flying Saucer. Tim Bailey s Orange Mound Choir is at Tower Records this afternoon. The Gamble Brothers Band is at the Full Moon Club. Reverend Horton Heat and Unknown Hinson are at Young Avenue Deli. The Kudzu Kings and The Will Berret Band are at Newby s. And last but certainly not least, Burt Reynolds is at Gold Strike Casino in Tunica tonight. LOVE Burt.
Month: April 2003
ENTER THE ‘ADEQUATE FACILITIES FEE’
For a brief moment, at least locally, the cryptic phrase adequate facilities fee has replaced weapons of mass destruction as a neologism of note.
Shelby County Mayor A C Wharton used the phrase (to describe a potential revenue-generating mechanism) in making a preliminary budget presentation to members of the county commission Wednesday, and, though no member of the commission saw fit to quiz the mayor about the term then, several fessed up later on that they werent sure what it meant.
Asked about the A.F.F. (adequate facilities fee) later on, Wharton acknowledged that it had characteristics in common with an impact fee on developers (a potential levy which the mayor has so far been very, very circumspect about), but whereas proceeds from the latter could be allocated only in the geographic area of the project it was assessed upon, those from an adequate facilities fee could be distributed countywide, without such a limitation, the mayor said.
The premise was the same: Developments cause governmental infrastructure (sewers, utility lines, schools, etc. ) to follow in their wake, and taxpayers should be assisted in paying for these by fees upon the developers who make them necessary. Wharton had told the commission he and his office would be lobbying the Tennessee General Assembly for legislation enabling the imposition of the new fee in Shelby County.
There might be caps on it, having to do with the costs of the structures involved, and other factors. Well have to see, the mayor said after his meeting with the commission, reckoniong that an adequate facilities fee could raise $4 to $7 million in annual revenues for the county.
If it comes to pass, the new tax would thereby put a few drops back into a bucket that would run dry by a projected $26 million deficit in figures he and county finance director James Huntzicker presented to the commission Wednesday.
That gap will have to be made up by some combination of new revenues and reduced expenditures, but Wharton, who preternaturally likes to keep his cards close to the vest, remained somewhat oblique about specific remedies.
After the presentation, commissioners and reporters were scratching their heads and asking each other whether, as seemed the case, Wharton had pledged to rely on attrition rather than outright employee dismissal in downsizing county government staffs. There was no doubt, however, that the mayor spoke of imposing an indefinite freeze on hiring, as well as a freeze on purchases — except essential ones, a category that could turn out to be problematic in determining.
And, while the exact nature and amount of tax increases for the coming fiscal year were left hanging, the mayors budget overview, passed out at the meeting, floated what some heard to be a 35-cent tax increase and suggested that further increases might be necessary in 2004 to fund the succeeding four years.
On one subject the mayor was quite firm: Nothing is sacrosanct in the current depressed fiscal environment. That would seem to apply to the continued suspension of county grants to a variety of non-profit agencies (which Wharton mentioned), to the lapsing of year-to-year employee/consultant contracts (which he didnt mention but which are the subject of feverish gossip in county offices), and to capital improvement outlays, which have been rising steadily in recent years but which would decline annually over the next five years, according to a table submitted to the commission.
The folks at Microsoft aren’t going to tell you. Neither are the guys at Dell.
But the truth is, computers in the classroom haven’t had much of an effect on student achievement.
Zealous advocates of computers in the classroom cloak their ideas in a number of assumptions, all designed to make us tremble at the prospect that “technology” might disappear from our classrooms:
1) Computer skills are essential to functioning in a high-tech society.
2) There is a “digital divide” that keeps poor children impoverished if they do not have access to technology over the span of their school career.
3) Computers “facilitate” learning in a way that causes students to be engaged in their education.
It is true that some computer skills are necessary in almost any job. Even counter help at fast-food restaurants are expected to interface with computer programs. But beyond basic job-related skills associated with computer use, what is there to this “functioning in an information age” thesis?
Not much, if you list the mostly peripheral uses of computers for those of us who are not subscribers to Wired magazine: e-mail, word processing, spreadsheet, database, and the Internet.
That’s about it, really. Unless you’re a network administrator or a programmer or a member of some other profession whose existence revolves around technology, these five functions form a very short list of essential skills. How long did it take you to learn how to use e-mail, type a document, create a spreadsheet, form a database, or surf the Internet? A few minutes, hours, even days?
When I did my student teaching four years ago in two city schools whose students mostly qualified for free lunch (a major indicator of poverty), I had not one student who did not know how to download information from the Internet, including “research” that they copied and pasted into papers they wished me to accept as their own work.
They could not, however, pick out key facts in the paragraphs they submitted. They were intimately familiar with simulation games like “The Oregon Trail,” but when asked to transfer this technology experience to a study of the real pioneers who traveled westward, they were unable to make the connection that there were real provisions that spoiled, that real wagons became disabled, and that there were no convenience stores or wagon repair shops to solve these problems.
In other words, they spent years playing a game that was designed to simulate “real” life, yet they had not even a clue what this game represented in terms of the struggle real humans engaged in to colonize the Western reaches of this country.
Digital divide? No, my friends. What we have is a literacy and knowledge divide. And computers, at least as they are currently being used, can’t fix that, no matter what the technology titans tell you.
If computers can’t solve the problem of poor student preparation, what can? The three constants in any educational program are teachers who are allowed to teach, parents who support the aims of education, and kids who are motivated to learn. These are the only real and lasting solutions to low achievement.
It is not testing that should be faulted or a lack of technology but rather our desire for a quick fix that does not involve human struggle. Testing a child to determine if he can read or identify a place on the map or compute a math problem is neither unfair nor unrealistic.
What is unfair and unrealistic is to expect teachers to do more every year with fewer resources and for less compensation — and to expect almost no sacrifice on the part of parents and students who believe that 13 years in a classroom will magically and painlessly confer upon them a quality education that is “fun.”
Ruth Ogles has been a substitute teacher in the Memphis city schools since 1998; she ran for the city school board in 2000.
Speaking the Speech
Shakespeare’s verse has assonance out the ass, more consonance than you can shake a stick at, and an abundance of awesome alliteration! In fact, Hamlet’s famous charge to the actors, “Speak the speech trippingly on the tongue,” is a tip-top, tried-and-true testimonial to the terrificness of using lots of words that all begin with the same letter. What Hamlet is saying in this passage is essentially “Hey, you stupid actors, don’t mangle your words and get on with it.” But too often this lesson is interpreted to mean just the opposite. It becomes a license for self-indulgent actors, a license to look at the crowd and scream, “Hey look, Ma, I’m saying lots of words that all begin with the same letter.” And too often, this same misprision wrecks Theatre Memphis’ visually lush, often daring, and very nearly boring take on Shakespeare’s original man in black.
Of course, there’s method in the Bard’s linguistic lunacy. Mnemonic devices help actors learn their lines, unlocking all the while a play’s intrinsic rhythms. But these tricks (or tools, if you prefer) are only a road map and not a destination. An actor with as much Shakespeariance as TM’s Hamlet du jour, John Maness, should know this. But against his own character’s sound advice, and more so than any of his castmates, Maness “saw[s] the air with his hand[s],” pronouncing every “Oh!” as if it were his very last. In the second act, however, Maness seems to find his voice, speaking to both ideas and castmates rather than at them. Still, much of this Hamlet‘s sluggishness rests directly on this actor’s typically capable shoulders.
As the murderous usurper King Claudius, Barclay Roberts never plays the villain, and his performance is made the richer for it. Ann Sharp tackles incestuous Queen Gertrude with all the can-do cluelessness of a suburban soccer mom, and it works. John Rone’s Polonius can list toward the artificial, but still he manages to make the silly curmudgeon as endearing as he is annoying. The chorus roles are variously filled with an equitable assortment of divinity and ridiculousness. But in the center, there is always Maness, who has put too much faith in the sound of Shakespeare’s syllables and not enough in their matter, and whose anger is so consistently overwhelming that it grows monotonous. And for the sake of fair Ophelia, I must ask, Oh! John! Where is the love?
In his stated attempt to create a conversational Hamlet, director Bo List has failed. In his attempt to turn Hamlet into an essay on fatalism, he has largely succeeded, and many of his gorgeous visual experiments make up for what could have been (and sometimes still are) fatal performance flaws.
Michael Williams’ golden set is a wonderful, multifunctional work of art, but costume designer Ashley Whitten might consider that, in a play where one character is called on the carpet for wearing all-black, it’s best not to also dress half the cast in black. It just makes Hamlet look trendy.
It’s unfortunate that beautiful design and solid directorial concept only go so far. TM’s Hamlet could have been magnificent. Instead, for all its potential, it seems less adventurous and fresh than the unexpectedly light, almost breezy production of Hamlet currently playing at Rhodes College’s McCoy Theatre.
Shooting the Breezeway: BTC mounts Chekhov and a new play
by Nate Eppler.
“We haven’t sold out every night, but we are doing really, really well,” says Memphis playwright Nate Eppler of his and director Bret Falco’s Breezeway Theatre Company. BTC will be closing its first season with Chekhov’s The Three Sisters, which runs from April 17th to 26th, and Eppler’s own Bit, which runs May 2nd to 10th. “We did Shorty Hawkins at TheatreWorks,” Eppler explains, “and it sold out two out of three nights. Then Jackie [Nichols] invited us to [become a resident company] at TheatreWorks, and we weren’t exactly sure how it would go. For instance, we had a slot during Christmas, when all the other Christmas plays were going on, and we did a play about the ’70s with nudity and mature themes and we did okay.”
From sex plays at Christmastime to a musical farce about a town where tomatoes have been outlawed, it almost seems as if the Breezeway Theatre is incapable of doing something ordinary. The company has attracted an audience — a rather young audience, at that — that might, under normal conditions, not be prone to see theater at all.
“That’s one of the reasons we wanted to do Three Sisters,” Eppler says. Chekhov’s play is about a group of siblings who dream of moving to Moscow but somehow never make it.
Three Sisters will be directed by retired U of M professor and Chekhov enthusiast Josie Helming. “So it will be very Josie,” Eppler says. By that, we may assume that he means vocal clarity and briskness of pace will be the order of the day. Helming’s fairly recent production of Uncle Vanya often seemed more like a Mamet play than what we have come to expect from Chekhov.
“Bit is very Mamety,” says Eppler of his own play, which officially closes the season. “Is Mamety a word?” he then asks. “Because it’s not Mametesque.” Eppler says that his play about a group of comedians fits nicely with Three Sisters because “the sisters all want to go to Moscow but never get there. In Bit the characters get where they wanted to go but find out they never wanted to go there in the first place.”
Rebel Rebel
PHOTO COURTESY MEMPHIS WHITEWATER |
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Jeff Hoff surfing a hole on the upper Ocoee River
in East Tennessee. |
It all began as a spirit of rumbling dissent from within the ranks of the Bluff City Canoe and Kayak Club, which had, according to the malcontents, grown far too tame to accommodate them. Certain seditious types — thrill-seeking kayakers all — felt that they weren’t getting the respect and attention they deserved. Others were upset (inexplicably, we might add) because the Bluff City Canoe and Kayak Club decided to run a recipe on their Web site. Go figure. But whatever the actual reasons for open rebellion, it was from this churning spray of rebelliousness that Memphis Whitewater, a club designed for those who have no interest in being up a “lazy river” with or without a “you know what,” was born. Ask any member and he’ll tell you it’s excitement they crave. Well, excitement and a rather anarchic variation on water polo called boatball.
“There was a big controversy going on about roll practice over at Bluff City,” says Tom Kaylor, a Bluff City defector and proud member of Memphis Whitewater. “Bluff City is mostly made up of canoeists,” he says, “and they didn’t really approve of roll practice because that’s mostly for kayakers. Finally I was just kind of a smart-ass and said we were going to have roll practice whether it was with Bluff City or not.” This feeling was clearly shared by many of Kaylor’s compatriots (though many are still affiliated with Bluff City) and soon a Web site, a baseball cap, and a license plate were designed for Memphis Whitewater. Poof! A new club was born. And true to their spirit, the group has no officers or official leadership. They are bound by their baseball caps, Web site, and love of white water. Greg Cravens, a member, baseball-cap huckster, and occasional illustrator for The Memphis Flyer, quoted Douglass Adams, author of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, saying, “Organization?What kind of word is that to describe this bunch?”
You’ve got to look at it from this perspective, says kayaker Michael Malone, who we will later learn ain’t too proud to take his white-water boating wherever he can get it. “Canoers are usually into the scenic [aspects of paddling]. They are into having a good time, but they just aren’t into the adrenaline of it. White-water guys, we’re into the scenic too, but we’re also into the agility [required to maneuver a kayak in moving water].”
“It’s like riding a roller coaster,” says Ramona Symonanis. “Going down the river, getting spun around. It’s like a carnival ride, only you are in control of your boat.”
As Malone points out, Memphians looking for a white-water experience have to be prepared to drive several hours to get it. That’s where having a club comes in handy. “You’ve got to have a club just to get a ride,” he says. And companionship can be an important thing when you are making the long hauls. But there are occasional options for the urban white-water experience.
According to diehard kayakers unafraid of the muck, there is a quarter-mile stretch on the Mississippi, just beyond a Corps of Engineers dyke, that provides some nice surfing waves. But that’s just about it for local white water, unless, of course, you want to get in a drainage ditch. That’s right, a drainage ditch.
“You know how they have these lakes in these nice apartment communities?” Malone asks. “Well, when it rains they overflow into a drainage ditch, and you have all this water pouring into a tiny little space and it creates a big hydraulic. When I first moved to Memphis, [I got a call about kayaking in a drainage ditch] and I met these guys in Cordova. And there we were, about six of us, with all these Styrofoam cups floating by. It’s not the most ideal thing, and it’s probably not the safest thing, but, you know “
“It’s the radical ones who go into the drainage ditches,” Symonanis says, noting that she would never do such a thing.
Memphis Whitewater has regular meetings at Garibaldi’s Pizza on Walker just east of Highland. Interested parties can always check the Web site MemphisWhitewater.com to find the date of the next gathering. The informal meetings, which are really just big beer and pizza parties, are attended by people of every age, shape, and degree of athleticism. There are toned long-distance runners knocking back brewskis with professional slobs. Seeing this range of humanity gathered together makes the idea of plunging over a waterfall in a six-foot boat seem not so intimidating. The club offers rowing classes, safety classes, and an opportunity for enthusiasts to buy, sell, and trade gear. But more importantly, it provides a support network for those who like their fun wet and wild.
Sound Advice
I remember reading somewhere that Texas-based singer-songwriter and guitar player Chris Whitley didn’t consider himself a singer-songwriter or guitar player. He said he thought of himself as an “expressionist.” I think it was then and there that I decided to actively dislike Chris Whitley. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do since he makes gorgeously eclectic recordings like some roots-minded answer to Beck. Blues with a side of trip-hop, anyone? And let’s face it, the guy can turn a phrase. But his poesy has grown so self-consciously poetic that it sounds like something ripped from the journal of a precocious 15-year-old coffee addict whose grandma told him the beats were way cool. Take this line from his latest record, Hotel Vast Horizon: “No time lost to passers-by/Lonesome transmission/The miles decide/Everyday departures/Loosen from the land/All the wide open returns/In your stride.” Expressionist? No. Cubist? Maybe. Pretentious? It is decidedly so.
Whitley will be playing with his band at the Gibson Lounge on Saturday, April 19th, with Messenger labelmates Johnny Society opening, though for my money it should be the other way around. When Johnny Society released Wood in 1998 it looked like Guided By Voices might have some lo-fi Beatles-worshiping competition. But the band got too slick too fast, and their sound began to list in the direction of bad Cheap Trick. (Could working with Robin Zander be to blame?) Their latest, Life Behind the 21st Century Wall, sounds like Cheap Trick trying to write a Stillwater song for Almost Famous II with a little New Orleans blues thrown in to remind us they are with-it.
— Chris Davis
Living proof that hailing from somewhere as mundane as Akron, Ohio, and being a protégé of Peter Gabriel are not mutually exclusive, singer-songwriter Joseph Arthur emerged from obscurity to critical acclaim with his 2000 sophomore and breakthrough album, Come to Where I’m From, a batch of experimental folk rock variously compared to the likes of Beck, Leonard Cohen, Joe Henry, and the late Jeff Buckley. Arthur hits Memphis this week for a show on The Peabody rooftop Friday, April 18th, as part of 107.5-FM The Pig’s excellent “World Class Concert Series.” The only way to get tickets is to register online at www.radiopig.com.
The latest installment of Tha Movement goes down this week, Saturday, April 19th, at the Hi-Tone Café. Scheduled performers this month include the reggae band One Stone, Drum Circle, and Memphix’s Red Eye Jedi. — Chris Herrington
Where’s the Beef?
A propos that old adage about politics being a sausage factory: The Shelby County Democrats’ biennial convention last Saturday at Hamilton High School may have been a messy and shocking spectacle, but it was at times spicy and even delectable. And lots of fun. The only problem was that the process ended with no sausage.
Which is to say, no chairperson. Current chair Gale Jones Carson and her challenger, state Representative Kathryn Bowers, both ended up with 20 votes apiece — thanks to a sudden illness that forced a presumed Bowers delegate, Marianne Wolf of Cordova, to go home early. When various remedies for the standoff — including a proposed revote and an attempt to invoke a tie-break via Roberts’ Rules of Order — failed to come off, both contestants (and their backers) finally agreed to an adjournment and a runoff vote at a special meeting of the newly elected executive committee to be called later on.
Some of the contests that produced the 41 elected committee members in conclaves (based on state House of Representatives districts) held throughout the Hamilton auditorium were close in their own right –and self-sufficiently dramatic. For example, in District 85, one of several to experience a tie vote requiring several ballotings, a shoving match erupted at one point involving radio talk-show host Thaddeus Matthews, a Bowers supporter, and Carson supporter Jerry Hall. In the end, the majority vote went for Carson.
There were accusations and controversies aplenty in other district conclaves. A Carson supporter in District 87 (Bowers’ home district) was city council member TaJuan Stout-Mitchell, whose credentials were challenged by Bowers booster James Robinson on grounds that Mitchell had not participated in last month’s preliminary pre-convention caucuses. Mitchell denied the allegation.
As Carson wanly noted toward the end of the proceedings, the old Arab proverb that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” was very much in play. There were all manner of unnatural alliances and combinations to be seen — starting with the fact that longtime antagonists David Upton and Del Gill, both Bowers advocates on Saturday, were on the same side. And, though most known partisans of 9th District U.S. Representative Harold Ford Jr. were deployed on Bowers’ behalf, at least one, field rep Clay Perry, was on hand to give apparent lip service to Ford’s public statement on behalf of Carson.
That statement, made last month as some of Ford’s cadres apparently invoked his name on Bowers’ behalf, seemed clearly pro forma and the result of what some of his supporters saw as a panic reaction. A Bowers backer on Saturday remarked bitterly that the congressman had “left us high and dry” after earlier promises of support.
Late in the game, Carson supporters were insisting that Roberts’ Rules mandated a tie-breaking vote by the chairperson or — since Carson, in the apparent interests of propriety, declined to do those honors herself — the first vice chair, who happened to be one of her supporters, freelance journalist Bill Larsha. The crucial argument was supplied by lawyer David Cocke, a Bowers proponent, who somehow prevailed on a hastily assembled jury of fellow barristers to accept his interpretation that parliamentary rules exempted election of a chairperson from that sort of tie-break.
Cocke, a newly elected committee member and voter himself, was under clock pressure to get something done fast, inasmuch as he was due to attend the funeral of his mother-in-law Saturday afternoon. “We kept them from knowing that,” gloated Upton, who with another Bowers ringleader, John Freeman, had been involved in another time-sensitive mission, pleading on the telephone to the ailing Wolff for her return.
Wolff, who was suffering from nausea (presumably for reasons other than the raucous events at the convention), had been carried home early by her Cordova neighbor, Nancy Kuhn, a Carson supporter whom Wolff had beat out for a District 99 committee slot. To compound the irony, it was Kuhn who dutifully drove Wolff back to the auditorium after Wolff finally said yes to her insistent implorers. By then, the convention had adjourned, however.
“That was insensitive,” Carson said scornfully about the prolonged effort to persuade an ailing delegate to return.
Insensitive or not, the Wolff mission was as nothing compared to the arm-twisting and cajoling and threatening and subtle — and not-so-subtle — bribery that will go on (as all of it had during the run-up to Saturday’s convention) in the days remaining before the newly constituted committee is reconvened to break the tie.
Whatever the final result, the course of civilization at large will not be much altered. Clearly, a Bowers victory would gratify those Democrats critical of Carson or of Memphis mayor Willie Herenton, whom she serves as press secretary, or of Carson/Herenton ally Sidney Chism, blamed by Bowers and other legislators for recruiting election opponents for them last year. (Herenton, who showed the flag on Carson’s behalf at last month’s caucuses, was not on hand Saturday, though many members of his inner circle, including city finance director Joseph Lee, were.) White Democrats on the new committee seem mostly to be Bowers backers, testament to one of the convention’s subtexts, invoked subtly by Bowers in earlier remarks from the stage calling for more “inclusion.”
Just as clearly, many Democrats faithful to Carson’s cause (and the mayor’s) were among those who have traditionally been alienated from what they have seen as the party’s establishment — an ill-defined aggregate including partisans of the party’s Farris and Ford clans and, these days, members of the county’s legislative delegation.
In any case, the Democrats will take one more crack at creating a sausage when they meet again, though it is doubtful that the next attempt will have quite the sizzle and spectacle of Saturday’s convention.
Tinkers to Evers to Chance
While a lot of people, locally and in Nashville, were looking the other way, Shelby County’s state Senate contingent performed a valuable service Monday night in sidelining an effort by Nashville-area lawmakers to land a sales-tax break for construction of a new stadium for the Nashville Sounds baseball team. The same kind of break had previously been denied during the construction of AutoZone Park for the Memphis Redbirds. A bill before the Senate finance committee would have allowed Nashville to hold on to its local share of sales-tax proceeds collected at the proposed new stadium, while the state share would have gone to defray the cost of construction bonds. All sales-tax revenue collected at AutoZone Park was designated to pay back such bonds.
Nashville state Senator Thelma Harper, a sponsor of the measure, stated the obvious: “This language is in there because the city of Nashville wanted it.” State Senator Steve Cohen, who had first noted the fillip contained in the bill for the state’s capital city, stated something just as obvious, according to Nashville’s Tennessean: “Memphis is not able to keep its sales tax. It’s a sharing situation.” Two Shelby County Democrats on the finance committee, Jim Kyle and John Ford, promptly indicated they would force a reconsideration of the bill. “It’s a good thing Senator Cohen looked at it,” Senator Ford said by way of collegial acknowledgment. Indeed so.
In dealing with this matter of simple equity, the city’s legislators worked together as smoothly as did the legendary Chicago Cubs double-play combination known to history as “Tinker to Evers to Chance.” Hopefully, members of the Shelby County Commission could cooperate as well in the forthcoming reconsideration of a resolution authorizing a private company, at its own expense, to look into the ramifications of converting The Pyramid into a casino/hotel. Some in these parts seem positively shocked that trade-offs constitute part of the action when legislative bodies meet and vote on matters. We’d be shocked if they didn’t. If the process of coming to agreement results in the resolution of several matters at once, so much the better.
Overdose
It’s enough to give one a headache — or something worse. A member of our staff visited his local pharmacy recently to have a prescription filled and was handed, along with it, a little brochure called “Notice of Privacy Practices.” The brochure began with reassurances about the drug-store chain’s commitment “to guard your privacy,” but that statement segued into a somewhat more ominous one: “What is new is a government regulation requiring us to spell out your rights.”
That spelling-out turned out to mean B-E-W-A-R-E. Among other things, it read, “We may release Protected Health Information about you to federal officials for intelligence, counterintelligence, protection to the President, and other national security activities authorized by law.” Say what? Inasmuch as the dispensing of controlled substances is already accounted for in reporting procedures, this new enablement — a provision of the so-called Patriot Act now under review by Congress — clearly goes too far. The legally prescribed medicines we take, like other aspects of our personal profiles also under scrutiny under the terms of the act, are simply not the government’s business.
friday, 18
One more play opening tonight; it s Fully Committed (a one-man play about an overworked actor-turned-reservations clerk) at Circuit Playhouse. And there are several art openings tonight. They are at: David Mah Studio for Color Photographs by Drew Whitmire; Midtown Artist Market Gallery for pen and ink works by Dani Harris; Jay Etkin Gallery for works by Mark Rouillard; and at 1688 Lamar for a U of M BFA exhibit by nine artists. For some hot Latin music, there s Layover is Brazil with the Jet Set DJs at Automatic Slim s tonight. For the best torch song music in town or just about anywhere in the world, Di Anne Price is playing at Cielo. And there s a rooftop concert at The Peabody tonight by Joseph Arthur, brought to you by 107.5 The Pig.
They’re Out There
One thing you should know about termites: You can poison them, you can light them on fire, you can stomp them, or even drop a neutron bomb on them. Whatever you do, you can never be sure that your house is immune to a termite attack. The termites were here before we got here. They’ll be here when we’re long gone and there’s nothing left but Styrofoam, sharks, and Cher.
Usually, the first indication of termites eating your house is a termite swarm. In our part of the world, termite swarms happen right about now. When the bugs swarm, they come fast. One minute you’re sitting on the sofa reading the Sunday paper, the next minute there are bugs in your hair, bugs on the walls and floors, bugs on the dogs and cats. If it happens at your house, don’t freak out. Termites don’t bite or sting. They can’t hurt you. Just suck ’em up with the vacuum.
Sometimes, a plague of flying bugs turns out to be an ant swarm. An ant swarm isn’t good, but it’s better than a termite swarm. Here’s how to tell ants from termites: Termite swarmers are black. They look like ants, except that they’re about the same size all the way from head to butt, without the pinched-in waists that ants have. Termite swarmers have straight antennae. Ants have crooked ones. If you get termite swarmers in your house, it’s a safe bet that termite workers have been eating your house for a while. I know that sounds worrisome, and it is. But it’s usually not a crisis. Often as not, replacing or reinforcing termite-damaged wood is a medium-sized job at worst, and it’s nothing a decent carpenter can’t handle.
Swarmers outside the house don’t necessarily mean termites are eating your house. It’s perfectly all right for termites to come flying out of a rotten stump 100 feet from your house. That’s what termites do. But if the bugs are coming out of the ground immediately adjacent to your house, that could mean your house is under attack. Call the bug man. If you’re lucky, you won’t be home when a swarm hits, and the bugs will let themselves out before you get home. You’ll find some live and dead bugs here and there, but you’ll mostly find wings on the windowsills. That’s because wings fall off the swarmers as they fly out of their dark underground colonies and toward the light.
House-eating termites (workers, not swarmers) are white and they don’t have wings. They live in the ground and build mud tunnels up to your house. You probably won’t see the workers unless you go into your crawl space or basement and break up their mud tunnels (about as big around as a pencil) or probe into a piece of infested wood. An Orkin factoid: There are about 12 to 13 termite colonies in a typical American acre, each with about a million bugs. Using those figures, I’d say that my yard alone has more termites than Tennessee has Tennesseans.
People ask me all the time: How can they be sure that there are no termites eating their house? Well, you can never be sure. You’ve got millions of termites in your yard, and they get up every morning with nothing to do but find wood and eat it. There’s no fool-proof termite-detection system, and there’s no truly effective termite-killing system. My smarty-pants sources tell me that the bait systems are best but far from perfect. When we’re doing our home-inspection work, we go into a crawl space packing a 500,000-candlepower flashlight. We look for termite tubes, termite-chewed wood, and termite poop. But the flashlight beam is only about a foot across. We can’t promise that there isn’t some termite damage somewhere. The guys who come from the bug companies are specialists, but their termite inspection still involves one guy with one flashlight. Truth is, nobody can inspect a house and know if it has termites or not. Some exterminators have trained beagles to sniff out termites. I’ve been told that the beagles are good. But shoot, with 12 million bugs to the acre, I could put my own nose to the ground and say I smelled termites, and nobody could prove me wrong.
Homeowners, listen to me: Just give up the notion that any company, person, or beagle can find all the termites. Any Tennessee house could have termites at any time. If you want protection against termite damage, hire a good pest-control company, which can treat the house, put out termite-killing bait traps, and inspect the house frequently. If you’re lucky, you might find a company that’ll sell you a no-loophole repair bond, which means if bugs eat your house, they’ll pay to fix the damage.