Month: October 2004

Categories
News The Fly-By

Burning Down the South

In his groundbreaking documentary Sherman’s March, filmmaker Ross McElwee stumbles into his parents’ house half-drunk after attending a costume party. He’s dressed like a Civil War general. His parents think he’s wasting his life trying to be an artist, and he doesn’t want to wake them. So he sits and whispers into the camera a long, sympathetic monologue about General William T. Sherman.

In 1986, it was unusual for a documentary filmmaker to put himself in front of the camera. It was even more unusual for a documentary to shift its focus between its stated subject and the personal obsessions of the filmmaker. But McElwee did both, and the result was hilarious, heartbreaking, and, yes, even educational.

McElwee’s latest film, Bright Leaves, opens at the Malco Ridgeway this weekend. It takes an uncharacteristic look at tobacco farmers in North Carolina filtered, as always, through the filmmaker’s obsession du jour.

Flyer: If I went to pick up one of your films at the video store I’d go to the documentary section. But your films frequently are referred to as “subjective meditations.” What do you call your films?

Ross McElwee: That phrase [subjective meditation] seems appropriate, but I’m afraid that it also might put a viewer to sleep. I’ve tried to make documentaries that are closer to essay writing and literature. Bright Leaves is an exploration. It’s a journey across geographical, psychological, and emotional landscapes. Maybe I should call it an action-packed documentary.

You put yourself in these films as a sort of genial, somewhat confused tour guide. You show us around like a native, but at the same time you’re trying to figure out exactly what it is you’re showing us.

I try to lure people into a film and then periodically abandon them. [In the case of Bright Leaves], it begins with a personal introduction about my cousin in North Carolina who’s discovered an old Hollywood melodrama [also called Bright Leaves] that he thinks is based on the life of my great-great grandfather [who first marketed the tobacco brand Bull Durham]. And then I step aside and let the film be about tobacco for a while, and I let the viewers decide how they feel about tobacco. The film also becomes a meditation on what it means to make home movies, documentaries, and Hollywood films.

Would you say that Bright Leaves is a film about denial?

Denial is a major theme, although I was determined not to make an anti-tobacco film or a film that says tobacco is BAD. One tobacco grower told me point-blank that tobacco has never hurt anybody. His mother had just died of lung cancer. So, yes, denial is one component. But I’m a former smoker, and at one point in the film I do acknowledge all of the social pleasures of smoking. Smoking is bad in general, but it’s not as bad for everyone as it seems. One guy [in the film] smoked four packs a day into his 90s.

A doctor once prescribed menthol cigarettes for my grandmother’s sore throat.

That sort of thing used to happen more than you might think. There was a time when doctors used to prescribe cigarettes to ease discomfort in pregnant women.

But this film’s not so much about tobacco as it is about the families who raise tobacco and their relationship to the region.

Generally speaking, it’s not large businesses that control the growth of tobacco in North Carolina. It’s not the big corporate farms like you see in the Midwest. It’s small family farms of five or 10 acres. When you look at tobacco in terms of these families, it makes it harder to pass judgment. And there’s also a paradox in the way the state and federal governments treat tobacco. Every pack of cigarettes has a warning label on it. And anti-smoking ads are produced with money from legal settlements [against tobacco companies]. But the federal government also hands out “allotments” which make it possible to grow tobacco in the first place.

Attitudes toward tobacco and smoking are changing. How will this change the lives of the tobacco growers?

At the end of the film I go to the 50th and final Tobacco Day Parade in a small town in the eastern part of the state. After half a century, they have decided to start calling it the Farmer’s Day Parade. Even the farmers in these towns are beginning to acknowledge that tobacco has image problems.

Again, obviously, you’ve returned to your native South, and to some degree your family, for subject matter. But how does Bright Leaves fit in with the rest of your films?

The film does depict smoking and cancer and death, but it’s also very funny. It focuses on all of these somber issues, but it manages to find humor, even hilarity.

Categories
Cover Feature News

The Real Deal

Prior to last season, his fifth as a professional basketball player, James Posey had never made even 43 percent of his field-goal attempts in a season or averaged even 11 points a game, both numbers at the low end of acceptability for a starting small forward in the National Basketball Association. He also hadn’t made more than a subpar 31 percent of his three-point shot attempts since his rookie season and had never appeared in a playoff game. Certainly, he had never made much of an impression on NBA fans or media onlookers outside of the cities in which he plied his trade.

Prior to last season, its ninth as a professional basketball team, the Memphis — formerly Vancouver — Grizzlies had never appeared in a playoff game. The team had never won even 30 games in a season, the starting point for mediocrity at the highest level of pro hoops. Only twice over the previous eight years had it managed to finish out of last place in its seven-team division. It had the worst franchise winning percentage in the league. In statistical terms, to find an equally inept franchise you’d have to travel back to the NBA of the 1940s and acquaint yourself with the likes of the Providence Steamrollers and Pittsburgh Ironmen. Other than the splashy hire of NBA legend Jerry West the summer before, the Grizzlies franchise had never made much of an impression on NBA fans or media outside the suffering cities in which it toiled.

But things changed last season, for James Posey and for his new team. After signing a modest, entirely unheralded contract as an off-season free agent, Posey put on a Grizzlies uniform and then put up career-best numbers in virtually every offensive category. By the end of the season, his overall play matched any small forward in the game. As a result, Posey finished fourth in the league’s voting for the season’s most improved player and probably should have won.

Meanwhile, the Grizzlies bested their franchise record for wins in a season before the All Star break en route to a 50-win season, the starting point for excellence in the NBA. Together, Posey and his new team made their playoff debut, and even though they fell swiftly to the defending champion San Antonio Spurs, it was undoubtedly a sweet reward for years of struggle.

As the most significant NEW addition to a team that had stumbled to 28 wins the season before, Posey can be credited as the primary catalyst for the Grizzlies’ historic turnaround, especially when you consider that the collective style of play that the team used to surprise the rest of the league — a combination of opportunistic defense and efficient offense — exactly mimicked the individual style of play that drove Posey’s personal breakout season.

Even though the Grizzlies won 22 more games than in the season before, the team’s offensive improvement was only modest. The real story behind the turnaround was a defense that improved from one of the league’s worst to well above average, allowing only 94 points per game after giving up over 100 per game the season before.

In this respect, the addition of Posey was only one of a host of seemingly subtle moves that resulted in a major defensive transformation. Earl Watson shifting over to his natural point-guard position in place of Brevin Knight: upgrade. Bonzi Wells replacing Wesley Person early in the season: upgrade. Bo Outlaw usurping departed journeyman Mike Batiste: major upgrade. But with his long arms, quick hands, and constantly revving motor making him the best defender in the starting lineup and the player most likely to match up with the other team’s top scorer, it was Posey who was the feature attraction in this team-wide overhaul.

The Grizzlies’ defense improved so much last season that whenever the offense clicked, the Grizzlies won, going 25-3 when scoring over 100 points and 14-1 when shooting over 50 percent. And, like Posey, the team just kept getting better as the season progressed. After starting the year 15-17, the Grizzlies caught fire after New Year’s Day, going 35-15 the rest of the way.

But what may have been most impressive was that the Grizzlies were able to win 50 games and were able to play effective defense, despite being the worst defensive rebounding team in the entire league. With all of its significant frontcourt players more wiry and athletic than bulky and strong, the Grizzlies were routinely pushed around in the paint. It was so bad that fans became quite accustomed to seeing such beefy mediocrities as Phoenix’s Jahidi White or Utah’s Greg Ostertag dominate games.

And yet the Grizzlies were able to offset this potentially crippling deficiency with a pressure defense that forced turnovers in bunches. The Grizzlies were first in the league in steals, second in blocks, and third in forced turnovers. Essentially, the extra possessions opponents got because of the Grizzlies’ shoddy rebounding were negated by the turnovers the Grizzlies forced. And Posey — the poster child for Hubie Brown’s favorite obscure statistical category, deflections — led the way. Posey finished among the league leaders in steals despite playing fewer than 30 minutes a game in Brown’s 10-man rotation, and, with his penchant for stepping into passing lanes, he was the player most likely to turn a deflection into a fast-break heading the other way.

Or, if you’re the kind of sports fan who favors the romance of the unprovable over the clarity of statistical analysis, you can say that James Posey is the player who finally gave the Grizzlies their growl.

To back up this assertion you can cite the inspirational performances and symbolic gestures that transformed Posey from an unknown quantity to the team’s most beloved player: tackling the showboating Sacramento Kings star Peja Stojakovic and then shutting him down a month later; ripping the ball, and the upper-hand in a battle for a playoff spot, from a scrum of Houston Rockets in a dramatic, nationally televised game; sinking that midcourt prayer to force double overtime in Atlanta; outplaying LeBron James at both ends of the court to will his undermanned team to win number 50. This is the Posey who inspired Brown’s oddly endearing endorsement at a post-game press conference that “he’s neat to be around” and “his parents did a wonderful job with him.”

Statistically speaking, when individual players past a certain age have big single-season increases in their numbers, as James Posey did last season, they tend to fall back to their career norms the next season. Basketball writer John Hollinger, whose provocative work is a hoops equivalent to the Bill Jamesian baseball research detailed in the best-seller Moneyball, calls this the Fluke Rule. In Hollinger’s study, players who qualify for the Fluke Rule regress the following season about 90 percent of the time. Posey was a little too young last season to technically meet Hollinger’s parameters, but in the current edition of the author’s annual Pro Basketball Forecast, he still cites Posey as a likely candidate for a drop-off this season, primarily because Posey’s statistical improvement was driven almost entirely by an increase in his shooting percentages, which Hollinger has found to be the category most given to wild fluctuations.

The same trend is true of teams: Ones that make huge leaps from one year to another, as the Grizzlies did last season, tend to take a step back the subsequent season. According to another Hollinger study, teams that improve by more than 15 games in one season average four fewer wins the next season. These statistics suggest the Grizzlies should fall back to earth a little this year — with 45 wins as a more reasonable expectation than 50. Given the improvements made by teams such as the Denver Nuggets, Houston Rockets, Utah Jazz, and Phoenix Suns, that would probably place the Grizzlies on the playoff bubble. And there are plenty of reasons to conclude that the Grizzlies had more than their fair share of good breaks last season, starting with the team’s 5-0 record in overtime and the fact that all three wins against the Spurs came with star Tim Duncan injured.

Given that Posey’s potential fluke season was instrumental in spurring the Grizzlies’ potential fluke season, perhaps asking the team to repeat its unlikely performance from last season means asking the same of Posey.

Luckily for Grizzlies fans, there’s an alternate explanation for a fluke season in which Posey showed huge improvements in his shooting both inside and beyond the three-point arc. The one shooting number that didn’t change for Posey was his always-excellent free-throw percentage, a measure of pure shooting ability unrelated to the ability to create shots. That this demonstrated shooting touch had never translated to other facets of the game until last season begs the question: Did Posey become a better shooter last season or just take better shots?

Hollinger is wrong when he says that Posey’s shooting percentages were the only things different about his game last season. Other things that changed were the uniform Posey was wearing, the coach he was playing for, the teammates he was playing with, and the system he was running.

If you look closely at the difference between how Posey played in Denver and Houston the season before and how he played in Memphis last season, you can see a change in how Posey was used. Not only did Posey’s shooting percentages go up in Memphis, the percentage of his baskets that were assisted did as well. This means that Posey created fewer shots for himself using the dribble and became more of a catch-and-shoot player, a situation more similar to the free-throw line where Posey had always thrived. Posey also took a higher percentage of his shots around the basket in Memphis, shots typically coming either in transition or off designed cuts. Add in that Posey’s assists and turnovers were both down (something Hollinger acknowledges but dismisses too casually), and it’s clear that Posey handled the ball far less in Memphis than he had during his time in Denver.

In other words, in Memphis Posey stopped being used as a creator of offense, a facet of the game where he struggles, and was used almost exclusively as a finisher. The result was that a previously low-percentage offensive player was transformed into one of the league’s most efficient scorers. (Posey was fourth in the league in points per shot attempt.) Posey scored on the break and around the basket and off his own steals. He knocked down spot-up three-pointers. He attacked the basket aggressively, getting to the free-throw line, where he’s a fantastic shooter. And that was it.

As the season wore on and Posey got more comfortable with the Memphis system, he just got better and better. Late in the season, he was frequently scoring 30-plus points without ever forcing the issue. Since he was already established as an elite defensive player, this improvement on offense turned Posey into one of the league’s better players. In this respect alone was Posey’s transformation different from that of his team.

So instead of Posey’s season being a fluke, it was the result of finally finding a role that maximized his strengths and minimized his weaknesses, Posey finally found his true level of play. That Posey is not the only but merely the most dramatic example of a player maximizing his skills in a Grizzly uniform (see Jason Williams last season) is the best evidence of all that perhaps the team’s big leap wasn’t such a fluke either. To put it another way: Hubie Brown really earned that Coach of the Year award.

Of course, Posey isn’t the only Grizzlies player with SOME- thing to prove this season. Offensive focal point Pau Gasol will be pressured to live up to the max-salary contract extension he signed over the off-season. Mike Miller, who has already missed time in the preseason due to his chronic back problems, will try to prove he isn’t on the verge of becoming a Michael Dickerson- or Bryant Reeves-style albatross. After failing to reach an agreement with the Grizzlies, or any other team, Stromile Swift will be playing for a new contract as he faces unrestricted free agency. New signee Brian Cardinal, a marginal player prior to last season, will try to show he was worth the long-term commitment West made to him. And one-time problem child Bonzi Wells will try to show that his character rehabilitation after coming to Memphis last year is the real deal.

That’s a lot of players but only a start to the list of names that will impact the Grizzlies this season: There’s the odd-couple point guard tandem of Jason Williams (a brilliant playmaker but still a defensive liability) and Earl Watson (a sometimes overpowering defender who couldn’t shoot straight last season). There’s fan-favorite swingman Shane Battier (like Watson, a defensive force who needs to shoot better this season). There’s gritty Lorenzen Wright and lumbering Jake Tsakalidis, two thirds of the team’s stylistically varied center troika. There’s defensive pest Bo Outlaw (who could be pushed out of the rotation by Cardinal). And then there’s the quintet of young players (Ryan Humphrey, Dahntay Jones, Andre Emmett, Troy Bell, and Antonio Burks) currently fighting for a spot on the roster, much less on the court.

The Grizzlies were renowned for their team depth last season and for how Brown used that depth in a trademark 10-man rotation about to get copied around the league as much as the “West Coast Offense” was in the NFL a decade ago. But they’re even deeper this season, adding Cardinal (who finished 10th in the most-improved voting) and rotation-worthy second-round steal Emmett while losing only undrafted rookie Theron Smith. Throw in noticeable improvements from previously marginal players like Jones (his jump shot the revelation of the preseason) and Tsakalidis (in better condition than a year ago), and Brown has more options to work with than ever before.

Another key to the Grizzlies’ turnaround last season was how much of a money team they became in the fourth quarter. The Grizzlies were an NBA-best 35-2 when leading coming into the final period and also sported a league-best 14 fourth-quarter comebacks. Was this a fluke or the result of fresh legs, good coaching, and clutch play? As with the astounding play of Posey and so many other pleasant surprises from last season, we’re about to find out how real it is. •

Editor’s note: For Grizzlies news and coverage throughout the season, check out Beyond the Arc, Chris Herrington’s Grizzlies blog, at memphisflyer.com/grizblog.html.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

Food News

Collierville resident Susan Powers has been catering events throughout the area since the 1980s, but now she and her husband Randy will take the business full-time with Market Café & Catering.

The café is located on Market Street, on the historic town square of Somerville, next door to Powers Jewelers, a business opened by Randy’s grandfather, and just minutes away from Lewis’ Restaurant, which Randy’s other grandparents opened in 1938 in Moscow, Tennessee.

“Randy is the barbecue master,” says Susan. “His grandparents owned Lewis’ Restaurant until it closed in 2000, and that is one thing he learned from them. Everything is going to be homemade. We’re not going to buy smoked turkey; we’re going to smoke whole turkeys.”

The menu will include an assortment of wraps, such as tuna salad made from grilled tuna steak, soups served in fresh-baked bread bowls, and a variety of desserts. Daily lunch specials will feature home-cooking with meat and vegetables.

In addition to prepared meals, customers can pick up “do-it-yourself catering” and gift baskets with goodies and one-of-a-kind gifts made by Powers family members.

“We will have a freezer with crab cakes, stuffed mushrooms, and artichoke dip. So if you’re having a party you can pick up something to serve that’s homemade,” says Susan.

“We’ll have gourmet gifts and gift baskets. My family is very artistic. My aunt and uncle in California make beautiful stained glass, and my cousin makes pottery. My mother-in-law will embroider tea towels and other gifts.”

The café will open around mid-November, with hours, initially, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. The couple plans to expand the hours to offer seafood and steaks on Friday and Saturday nights.

“It’s the country, so we don’t want to get crazy. But I’ve had so many requests for a nice restaurant — comfortable but nice,” Susan says.

For more information on hours or catering, call 901-465-6066.

Calvary Episcopal Church, 102 N. Second Street, continues its 20th year of the “Calvary & the Arts” concert series. Each Wednesday through December 8th (except November 24th), the public is invited to a 30-minute concert featuring local musicians. Following the performance, guests can enjoy lunch prepared by chefs from local restaurants and catering services or by the church’s executive chef, Emmett Bell.

On November 3rd, jazz musician Joyce Cobb will perform with Cool Heat, followed by Bell’s chicken à la king. Also on the menu this month is Capriccio Grill’s lasagna and a performance by international opera singer Kallen Esperian on November 17th.

Concerts begin at 12:05 p.m. and lunch tickets can be purchased for $6 per person at the door. For more information, call 525-6602, ext. 102 or see Calvaryjc.org.

Memphis barbecue chef and restaurateur Craig Blondis has one of the “50 Best Dream Jobs in America,” according to the editors at Men’s Journal magazine. The owner of Central BBQ, 2249 Central Avenue, was featured in the November issue along with a dinosaur hunter, a swimsuit photographer, and a poker player.

When Eric Messinger, author of the article, sat down with editors of the magazine, they made a list of “jobs that capture that adventurous flavor” the magazine represents and “jobs that are really cool,” the writer says.

“Rib shack owner” made the list, so Messinger turned his journalistic eye toward Memphis.

“When you think of a classic rib shack, you think of awesome comfort food. You might walk in and hear your music playing, and they might know your name. I got the feeling that this place captured all of that,” says Messinger. “When I spoke to Craig, he had all those things I was looking for. He himself is at the counter. He just started the restaurant two years ago. He and his partner had been participating in barbecue contests every weekend, so he had a passion. It was a passion that turned into a profession.”

Join the National Kidney Foundation of West Tennessee at the Memphis Botanic Garden for the 10th annual ”Sip Around the World” wine tasting November 5th. Wines from more than 50 wineries will be available for sampling along with food, music, and a silent auction, from 7 to 10 p.m. Tickets cost $50 in advance and $55 at the door. Call 683-6185 for more information. •

Categories
Opinion Viewpoint

A Shabby Performance

The tax man’s fingerprints are all over FedExForum. They’re on the seats, the concessions, the rental cars and limos that bring fans downtown, the restaurants where they eat, and the hotel rooms where they stay. One thing that isn’t taxed locally, however, is the players.

In the world of major-league sports, Memphis and Nashville are tax havens. Tennessee has no state income tax and no local payroll tax, although Memphis voters get a chance to change that by voting on a referendum next week.

In the unlikely event that an income tax ever passes in Tennessee or Memphis, the Memphis Grizzlies will write the biggest checks, because their players make millions every year in salary and endorsements. One $4 million player salary equals roughly 100 teacher salaries. The Grizzlies pay no income taxes to their home state and home town even though they play in a publicly funded arena and, like other professional athletes and entertainers, are taxed in most other places where they play.

But while the mainstream Memphis media have been quick to praise the Grizzlies for their civic activities and charitable donations and to trash the tax referendum for its vagueness, they have not put the two elements together in the same story. This is but one omission in what has been, overall, a shabby job by the media, politicians, and business leaders of explaining the issues underlying the payroll tax referendum.

If the vaguely worded referendum is defeated next week, as expected, no one will point out that enabling legislation is often vague, that Mayor Herenton took a pass, Mayor Wharton took a pass, and the business community raised more than $100,000 to fight the “well-intentioned” proposal. Proponents of the referendum had only city councilwoman Janet Hooks and free media. Payroll tax opponents will crow that “the people have spoken,” and the headlines across Tennessee will read “Memphis Overwhelmingly Rejects Payroll Tax.”

Better gloat now, because the chickens are coming home to roost in 2005. While the Good Ship Memphis steams along, there’s rough water ahead.

· On Monday, a story in The Wall Street Journal appeared under the headline “Rising Property Taxes Across U.S. Lead to a Slew of Ballot Initiatives.”

According to the article, “The efforts share a common theme: that reliance on property taxes, which have jumped 10 percent on average in the past few years, is an outdated and sometimes unfair way to fund local services.”

Every conscientious politician and business leader in Memphis and Shelby County knows as much, but none of them have stuck their necks out for the payroll tax. According to the Shelby County Assessor’s office, property taxes accounted for 50 percent of county revenue in 1996 and 63 percent today.

Memphis is 75 percent of Shelby County. For the first time in memory, the value of assessed property was down in Memphis last year — by $90 million — mainly due to reductions in the Hickory Hill area. As a result, Memphis lost $10 million in tax revenue.

· Next year is a reappraisal year for the first time since 2001. If you’re a Memphis homeowner and your $150,000 house is now worth $200,000, you’re looking at an increase in your property taxes of $908 in 2005 before the Memphis City Council and Shelby County Commission, properly chastened by defeat of the payroll tax, probably raise the property tax rate even more.

· Memphis and Shelby County are buying growth by constructing the most expensive public building project in local history, FedExForum, and by subsidizing growth through the Center City Commission, Industrial Development Board, and Health and Education Board, which grant tax freezes. Every project taken off the tax rolls or not put back on the tax rolls when its freeze expires puts a greater burden on the property tax. At least some of the revenue streams diverted to FedExForum would have gone elsewhere. Suffice it to say that a $250 million arena cannot pay for itself, and it is not free.

· If these numbers have not put you to sleep yet, visit the Web site of the Federation of Tax Administrators (taxadmin.org) for a look at how Tennessee taxation, based largely on sales and property taxes, stacks up against other states. Or Google the phrase “jock tax” for an interesting look at how other cities in Canada and the United States capture tax revenue from professional athletes. But don’t expect to find much from the mainstream Memphis media, which is still starstruck when it comes to pro sports.

I don’t know anyone on the Memphis Grizzlies team or staff. I assume that on an individual basis they are as generous and civic-minded as the rest of us. Generosity and major-league sports are nice, but so is tax equity. On that score, Memphis is bush league. •

Categories
News The Fly-By

Against the Wall

My father was one of the Georgia Tann babies,” says Memphis poet Michael Graber. “Georgia Tann sold 100 babies. Joan Crawford got two of them. Basically, my father was stolen from his country mother and sold to the highest bidder. So the ideas of mistaken identity and abandonment are things that I understand on an almost genetic level.”

Graber, author of the recently released book The Last Real Medicine Show, leans forward, folding his hands prayerfully on the sleek desk where he conducts business as creative director of Lokian Interactive. “Like anybody who chooses to live in their hometown,” Graber says, “I’m haunted by specters. The voices in my poems are Memphis voices. They are [often] Christian voices, because in the South you just can’t get around the cross. And in Memphis you can’t get around Furry Lewis.”

A decade ago, Graber, who also plays mandolin with the Bluff City Backsliders, was not nearly so buttoned down. A fixture of Memphis’ roots-music scene since 1989, he was the yowling heart pumping life and whiskey into Professor Elixir’s Southern Troubadours, a sprawling bluegrass train wreck famous for playing marathon gigs until there was nobody left to listen. When Graber the Dionysian-poet-turned-responsible-executive drops the names of country stars like George Jones, Bill Monroe, or poor murdered Stringbean, it’s at once an act of self-identification and exorcism. He’s not basking in the reflected glory of hotter suns but invoking new gods and begging the favor of a profoundly American muse.

“[All of these artists] have become the stars in our constellations,” Graber says. “They live their lives against the wall, so we don’t have to. We can identify all of our sublimated urges: all the things we want to do and long to do but are scared to do. Putting [these characters] in a dramatic context, where they are challenged at either a peak or valley moment in their lives, informs us of how we might respond in similar situations. They are the heroes of our myths.” They are certainly the heroes of Graber’s exploded sonnets.

The poems in The Last Real Medicine Show consider the “good old days” without succumbing to nostalgia and revisit the bad times without falling into melodrama. In “Howlin Wolf Celebrates Alone at the Hole in the Ground after Making His First Aristocrat Record,” Graber writes of an encounter between the blues man and a waitress, Ruby:

A dead chicken bathes in cream,

but I can’t chew food now.

Phillips just sold me to Chicago.

I should buy a steak the size of Texas

for the backup boys at Sun, who work

harder everyday than Satan does

on Saturday nights

Ruby, shining like gold,

I’m flying. Ruby, I’m falling

in love with the flour in your hair.

When Graber’s characters bend to the temptations of wine, women, and song, they aren’t giving in to weakness but striving toward the transcendental.

“It’s a theme from William Blake who said, ‘The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom,'” Graber explains. “That’s true with all the characters in my book. What you might call weakness I call tools to enlightenment. If these [characters] didn’t live out their passions, they couldn’t become these mythological figures.

“I’m a Romantic with a capital ‘R,'” Graber explains. His poems are all set in a moist, smelly world where rough agrarians are urbanized like horses are broken. But they are most effective when all of the stars go out and the uneventful lives of ordinary folks get blown up as big as the American Dream.

From “My Grandfather Dies Trying to Sell Me a Hat”:

You rise, mistake the hospital

for the pawnshop where you started

selling luggage on the side. You treat

me like an unfamiliar customer.

I beg for a Yiddish saying, or

a word from the long journey,

but you pawned your history

for a storefront and a suit.

Unless I want to buy

“a bike for the kids or

something useful like a hat”

I can ring my questions

“on Epstein’s empty register

next door. He’s a talker.”

You die trying to make a buck

The title The Last Real Medicine Show alludes to the legendary scam where traveling con men went from town to town selling watered-down booze as a universal panacea curing everything from baldness to “female trouble,” while musicians played, comedians told jokes, and pickpockets worked the crowd.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Graber says. “These people weren’t selling snake oil. You can’t sell snake oil.”

Holding his arms outstretched over notebooks, stacks of paperwork, and the ubiquitous bits of technology that define a modern workplace, Graber looks every bit the urban professional, but a wild-hillbilly gleam lights his pale lupine eyes. “These guys were selling hope,” he says. “That’s what a medicine show was all about.” •

Michael Graber signs The Last Real Medicine Show Thursday, October 28th, at Burke’s Book Store.

Categories
News

Voluntary Security

In December 1984, nearly 3,800 people were killed in Bhopal, India, after a cloud of methyl isocyanate was released from a Union Carbide plant. Another 200,000 people suffered from chemical exposure. In America, there are 123 chemical plants that could each expose more than a million people to deadly chemicals in the case of a terrorist attack or accident, and 750 additional facilities could endanger thousands more. Yet, despite the risks, the federal government has not imposed mandatory security standards for the chemical industry. Security at chemical industries is voluntary, much like security was for commercial airlines before 9/11.

Seven weeks after 9/11, New Jersey senator Jon Corzine introduced the Chemical Security Act, which would have required the nation’s chemical facilities to develop a plan to reduce their vulnerability to terrorist attacks. Facilities that the Environmental Protection Agency deemed “high priority” would have been required to cut back on the amount of hazardous chemicals stored on-site or to switch to less harmful chemicals.

The bill was intensely lobbied against by the American Chemistry Council (ACC), an industry group representing 7 percent of the country’s 15,000 chemical facilities. The bill stalled, then was re-introduced with the Department of Homeland Security replacing the EPA in a regulatory role, and then stalled again. A frustrated Corzine said that the ACC was more concerned with private interests than national security.

Robert Kennedy’s book Crimes Against Nature points out that the ACC’s lead attorney, James Conrad, served on Bush’s EPA transition team, and Fred Webber, the ACC’s former president, is one of Bush’s old friends from Texas. Common Cause, a nonpartisan organization working to abolish special interests in government, identified the ACC as a Bush campaign contributor.

Overall, the ACC contends that chemical plants don’t need federal intervention for chemical plant security. But local activists don’t agree.

“If the Bush administration is going to be serious about Homeland Security, they need to put more money and teeth into some rules to force chemical plants to protect the citizens who live around them,” says James Baker of the Memphis chapter of the Sierra Club. Baker is involved in the Safe Hometowns Initiative, a grassroots cooperative of environmental groups concerned about the threat of terrorist groups attacking chemical industries.

In Memphis, there are 20 chemical facilities that are required to submit Risk Management Plans (RMPs) to the EPA, as well as to the local Emergency Management Agency (EMA). Companies that store a significant quantity of hazardous chemicals are required to submit plans that include a worst-case scenario in the event of a major chemical release. According to Baker, these are the plants Memphians need to worry about.

Companies are required to submit RMPs every five years. The previous deadline for plans was 1999, so facilities were required to submit updated plans this year. Joe Lowry, local planning officer for the EMA, said he would not release the plans to the media.

In 1999, plans were released, and they are still available for viewing at the Right-to-Know Network’s Web site, Rtknet.org. According the 1999 plan posted by Vertex, a chemical plant on Presidents Island that handles large amounts of chlorine, an accident with a 90-ton rail car transporting chlorine to their site could release 180,000 pounds of chlorine into the air, spanning 25 miles.

“Most of the time, the wind in Memphis blows from the southwest to the northeast, so if you have something on Presidents Island, that’s going to blow up through the middle of town,” says Baker. “With a place like Velsicol [Chemical], which also handles [chlorine], no matter where the wind comes from, the plant is surrounded by communities.”

The larger problem is that while plants are required to submit emergency plans, there are no uniform federal security requirements. Butch Pennington, of the Local Emergency Planning Committee, says the EPA asked chemical plants in its most recent RMP request to reduce the amounts of harmful chemicals or to switch to less hazardous chemicals. But facilities were not required to make the changes. Had Corzine’s bill passed, changes would have been mandatory.

Lowry says the EMA has “a pretty good handle on the situation.” He says he studies each plan to ensure that it will work. If he’s not satisfied, he sends the plan back for revision. In the event of a chemical release, sirens throughout the city would alert the public to switch on their televisions or radios for further instructions. Lowry says large amounts of chemicals transported through the city represent Memphis’ biggest problems.

For instance, Memphis’ two Mississippi River bridges are used by more than 80,000 trucks and vehicles carrying products every day, Lowry says.

“We run more trains through Memphis than Nashville, Knoxville, or Chatanooga. We also have chemical pipelines running through the city,” says Lowry. “From a HAZMAT standpoint, there’s a lot of potential in Memphis.” •

Categories
News The Fly-By

To Ride or Walk

Cyclists and pedestrians won’t have to complain about crazy Memphis drivers much longer since the Memphis Bike and Pedestrian Plan is entering its final stages. RPM Transportation Consultants, the group that’s been developing the plan over the last several months, will submit a draft of the plan to the Memphis Metropolitan Planning Organization (MPO) by November 5th.

There will be an MPO public hearing on December 16th, and the final plan will be approved by the end of December. The draft plan will be available for public viewing after November 12th on the plan’s Web site, MemphisBikePed.com.

The plan, which falls under MPO’s 20-year Long-Range Transportation Plan, covers all of Shelby County, two to four miles of Fayette County, and eight miles of DeSoto County. RPM looked at 1,200 to 1,400 miles of roadway to determine which were suitable for bike lanes, wide outside lanes, shared roadways, or greenways (multiuse trails located off the roadway).

According to RPM’s findings, only 1 percent of the roads in the Memphis area are extremely compatible for bikes, meaning the road is wide enough to accommodate cycling traffic. Walnut Grove has the lowest compatibility due to the ban on bike traffic over the bridge leading into Shelby Farms.

“In addition to the proposed changes for existing roads, we’re also recommending that bike facilities be included on any new road or development that’s constructed,” said Rebecca Brooks, the project engineer from RPM Transportation Consultants.

At the last set of public meetings earlier this month, RPM identified several roadways that were being considered for the draft plan. Inside the I-240 loop, they are proposing bike lanes (extra lanes for bikes only) along Chelsea Avenue and Willow Road. Outside lanes wide enough to accommodate bikes and vehicles are proposed for Central Avenue and Hollywood Street. They’re also recommending that the city turn the old CSX Railway into a greenway trail through the city.

In Germantown and Collierville, RPM’s plan suggests running a greenway alongside Bill Morris Parkway. As for bike lanes, Bob Murphy, the project’s lead RPM consultant, said they’ve found that Germantown already has a fair amount of existing bike lanes.

Lakeland will rely heavily on greenways, and in Bartlett, they’ll be suggesting a mixture of bike lanes and signed roadways indicating that drivers are required to share the road.

RPM found that Millington has few wide roads, and therefore, most of its bike facilities will be signed shared roadways.

Horn Lake and Southaven already have long-range road-widening plans in place. RPM will suggest that bike lanes be added as new roads are constructed.

“Some of these facilities can be implemented quickly with little cost and little construction. They can be completed in three to five years,” said Brooks. “Others in our long-range bike plans could take up to 20 years to get constructed.”

As for the pedestrian portion of the plan, RPM is suggesting that the city install “missing link” sidewalks in areas where a sidewalk ends and begins again farther down the road. Murphy said they’re looking to connect schools with parks and neighborhoods.

Brooks said they weren’t able to do a complete sidewalk inventory as they did with the bike portion of the plan because “it was beyond the scope of the project.”

“We did do a walking survey and got responses on sidewalks in poor maintenance, which is one of the reasons people don’t walk more often,” said Brooks. “They’ve been damaged or overgrown with vegetation.”

In Memphis, homeowners — not the city — must maintain sidewalks in front of their property, so there’s not much in the plan for improving poorly maintained sidewalks. However, RPM is suggesting areas that would be ideal for “end-of-trip” facilities — areas with benches, water fountains, shade, and bicycle parking. Brooks said they are highly recommending that these facilities be added near parks and in the downtown area.

Funding for the plan will come from a variety of local, state, and federal sources, as well as private developers.

“Memphis has a lot of opportunities. There are a lot of roads that can accommodate bike lanes and wide outside lanes without a lot of construction,” said Brooks. “Because of regulations requiring sidewalks in much of the city, most areas already have them. There’s a pretty good base to start out with. We’re just enhancing what’s already in place.” •

E-mail: bphillips@memphisflyer.com

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Don’t Even Think About It

I attended a party over the weekend where I overheard the following, slightly drunk, rant exchanged over ice-cream cake and beer: “Did anyone see I Heart Huckabees? Well, I did, and I didn’t ‘heart’ Huckabees at all. I hated it. That’s what they should have called it: I Hate Huckabees.” Other partygoers jumped in with “What do you mean? I ‘hearted’ Huckabees a lot,” or “I didn’t understand it, but I guess I ‘hearted’ it well enough.”

For the record, I did not heart Huckabees, nor did I hate it. And I feel like I did a substantially good bit of homework. The two movies I saw before it were What the Bleep Do We Know? (another metaphysical indie that explores the interconnectedness of the universe) and Team America, which suggests that the world’s occupants are puppets. I left I Heart Huckabees tired, if mildly amused, and wrestling with the notion that I should have gotten something that I didn’t get: I have a masters degree. I should get this, right? I would like to heart Huckabees.

The titular Huckabees refers to a megastore like Wal-Mart or Target, with a bouncy 1950s Old Navy-style of retro marketing. Its slogan: “One World. One Store.” Yikes! A conservation group, Open Spaces, is trying to preserve a marshland that Huckabees would like to turn into a shopping complex. (Can you even build a mall in a marsh?) Open Spaces frontman Albert (Jason Schwartzman) leads the crusade against the project, but Huckabees exec Brad (Jude Law) has joined Open Spaces and tries to craft a compromise that will save part of the marsh while keeping the mall.

Brad’s success, hot girlfriend, and shifty politics upset Albert, who counters Brad’s compromise by reading poems at construction sites and generally flaking out as the leader of an organization of flakes. Muddled, he seeks the services of Vivian and Bernard Jaffe — a pair of “existential detectives” (played in a funny but odd way by Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman) — hoping that by being followed and charted, his life can start to make sense. Particularly troubling is a series of “coincidences” that involve running into a tall, Sudanese exchange student who lives with a family of Christian capitalists who have delegated him to gather celebrity autographs (?).

When the detectives start following Albert to work and become involved in the lives of the people there, Albert’s life unravels even more. That is, until Albert runs into a fellow neurotic: environmentalist firefighter Tommy Corn (Mark Wahlberg), whose examination by the Jaffes is interrupted by a competing philosophical detective, nihilist Caterine Vauban (French actress Isabelle Huppert). Meanwhile, the ever-smiling pig Brad — whose work with Open Spaces reflects the need to seem caring without actually being caring — casually enlists the Jaffes for detection of his own life. Sounds fun, doesn’t it? But the Jaffes discover that beyond Brad’s pretty face and successful image, there is a deeper, troubled soul that deserves examination and change. This causes trouble between him and his trophy girlfriend Dawn (Naomi Watts), who soon enlists the Jaffes herself. Existentialism is everywhere — it’s chaos!

This movie bills itself as “existential comedy.” That being box-office poison aside, I Heart Huckabees is not very funny. There are some chuckles to be had here and there, and while the comedy is played very broadly, my response was generally curiosity and confusion rather than laughs. The film only really gets good when the Jaffes are studying Jude Law’s Brad. Not because that section is funnier (it’s not) but because their work actually uncovers something interesting in Brad. I, Bo List, have never had the problem of being a shallow, successful pretty boy in need of introspection (alas), so I was fascinated to see this smiling, gee-whiz corporate cad get upset about what was inside of him. I was bored watching Schwartzman’s Albert deal with the same things because he already thinks too much. What’s the fun in watching an intellectual dwell on himself even more than usual?

The cast is top-knotch, not to mention diverse (Hoffman, Wahlberg, Tomlin, Tippi Hedren), but nothing gels in David O. Russell’s script and direction. (He wrote and directed 1999’s wonderful Three Kings.) It’s like the philosophy in the film: Everything connects, yet it doesn’t. Yet it does. What the Bleep Do We Know? cleverly illustrated that things that seem to touch really don’t. I Heart Huckabees illustrates something similar: Things that should be funny, by law of mathematical probability, probably aren’t.

Categories
Music Music Features

sound advice

Having first introduced himself to the world in 1985 in the seminal hip-hop film Krush Groove, a chiseled, bare-chested 17-year-old man-child bursting into a record-company office with a Radio Raheem-sized portable stereo on his shoulder and a sneer on his face, LL Cool J is probably the most senior hip-hop artist to retain a viable career. With swaggering hits like “I Just Can’t Live Without My Radio” and “Rock the Bells” and his entertaining public feud with older-school MC Kool Moe Dee, LL Cool J was probably hip-hop’s first solo star and first true sex symbol (sorry, Kurtis Blow). He peaked with the 1990 classic Mama Said Knock You Out, where the hit single “Around the Way Girl” not only established a classic hip-hop-culture archetype but boasted pop-poetry on a par with Chuck Berry himself: Listening to the song, you can practically see LL’s honey-complected muse standing by that bus stop, sucking on that lollipop, a New Edition/Bobby Brown button pinned to her sleeve. She’s like an update of Berry’s Nadine, forever walking toward that coffee-colored Cadillac as her pursuer runs behind, campaign-shoutin’ like a Southern diplomat.

LL Cool J never reached those heights again, focusing as much on his respectable acting career as on his music over the past decade or so. But he remains a more viable performer and recording artist than such still-active contemporaries as KRS-ONE, Chuck D., and Rakim. His latest album, The DEFinition, is a collaboration with genius producer Timbaland. Ladies who love cool James can see him up close and personal this week at the Premier, where he performs Monday, November 1st. Doors open at 8 p.m. and the cover is $20.

Or, if you want to see some hip-hop at less expense and probably less hassle, check out locals Tunnel Clones and Kontrast at the Hi-Tone Café Saturday, October 30th. The last time I saw these acts perform was as part of the local opening contingent for Dead Prez last month at the Complex, surely one of the best local shows of the year. Both groups were in fine form (and both have been in the studio working on debut recordings): The Tunnel Clones — MCs Bosco and Deverachi backed by DJ Red-Eye Jedi — stand in pretty stark contrast to what people typically recognize as local rap, owing a lot more to Native Tongues acts (Tribe Called Quest) or indie hip-hop than Dirty South rap. Kontrast — MCs Empee and Jason Harris backed by DJ Capital A –split the difference. They don’t sound that different from, say, Eightball & MJG, but they bring a smart, funny, everyman sensibility to their songwriting.

—Chris Herrington

When Shabadoo played the Hi-Tone Café a few months back it was supposed to be a one-off event. The band is strictly a recording project for Joey Pegram, a local drummer and guitar player whose musical history might only be described as peripatetic. But the show was so well-attended and so well-received that Pegram and his posse of Memphis all-stars are returning to the Hi-Tone for a command performance on Friday, October 29th. Over the years, Pegram has played bluegrass, punk, folk, metal, and just about any other style you can imagine. None of that has had any influence on Shabadoo, a relatively quiet, slyly psychedelic band that’s all about texture and melody, with smart (and occasionally smart-ass) lyrics on love and love’s less savory by-products. Tripp Lamkins (the Paper Plates) won’t be sitting in with Shabadoo this time around, which is unfortunate since his keyboards add so much to the sound. But in the end, Pegram could pull it all off solo if he had to. In a nutshell, Shabadoo is easy on the head, disarmingly clever, and worth checking out sooner rather than later. This isn’t a stable live band, and it’s hard to know which show will be their last.

Going on tour with Kiss and Aerosmith didn’t quite work out for the Porch Ghouls. It might even be said that that little taste of success led to their ultimate demise. But there’s good news for folks who’ve missed that garage-blues caterwaul: Porch Ghouls frontman Eldorado Del Rey is back with a brand-new band called The Ruckus, featuring the Bluff City’s chief Backslider, Jason Freeman, on guitar. The Ruckus is a somewhat more rocked-up version of the Porch Ghouls minus the endearing loungey extras. The Ruckus plays Murphy’s on Halloween night with Jeffrey Evans & The Memphis Roadmasters. All you roots-punks know you can never go wrong when Evans is in the house telling jokes as nasty as his guitar riffs. —

Categories
News News Feature

FROM MY SEAT

COULD A CURSE BE WORSE?

It’s one of the strangest emotions I’ve ever experienced. Sitting seven rows behind the St. Louis Cardinals’ dugout in Busch Stadium for Game 3 of the World Series Tuesday night, I was at the one place on the face of the earth where I most wanted to be . . . and with my father no less. And I was absolutely suffering.

Time heals, they say. And with baseball history — as it unfolds, particularly each October — the invigorating wins and throat-squeezing losses blend together in a tapestry unlike any other sport can claim. So the 2004 Cardinal season — with 112 wins, counting the postseason — will be near the top of the “bittersweet” category as fans do their mid-winter recollecting.

The Boston Red Sox ended the most fabled and talked-about “curse” in American sport (was the “curse” not merely a convenient excuse for 86 years of losing?). And they did so in a fashion that earns them a permanent spot (wild-card status, be damned) among the game’s truly great teams. To come back from three games down against the mighty Yankees of New York, and to beat the Bombers in Babe’s House, and once behind a pitcher whose red sock was the precise shade of the hurler’s hemoglobin . . . the stuff of legend. Put Curt Schilling’s name not beside, but ahead of the Splendid Splinter’s, Yastrzemski’s, Fisk’s. After all, it was he and not they who brought New England to heights their own gridiron Patriots can only approximate.

And what of those Cardinals, the first National League champion to call St. Louis home in 17 years? Imagine having a date to your senior prom with the prettiest girl in the county . . . and showing up with the largest zit your nose could accommodate. Heroes became clowns for St. Louis in this Fall Classic (dare we call it that?). Jim Edmonds, it could be argued, won both Games 6 and 7 of the NLCS, the first with an extra-inning home run, the second with a circus catch in centerfield to save two early runs. Against Boston? He had all of one hit, a bunt single in Fenway.

Scott Rolen drilled the home run that beat the indomitable Roger Clemens in that NLCS Game 7. Against Boston? Nary a hit. Albert Pujols hit .500 in the NLCS, with four home runs. He wasn’t able to so much as dent the Green Monster in a ballpark made for him.

And then there’s Jeff Suppan. As Cardinal Nation roars for his head over the pitcher’s base-running blunder (the enmity is better directed at third-base coach Jose Oquendo), remember how he clinched each of the previous playoff series for the Cardinals, and how he out-pitched a first-ballot Hall of Famer to win the pennant. A clown, yes. But with a hero’s cape still in his wardrobe.

Just as baseball history is written in the language of heroics, its texture is thickened with heartache . . . and collapse. Poor Tony LaRussa has been witness to the execution three times, now, first at the hands of Kirk Gibson in 1988, two years later when swept by an outmanned Cincinnati club, and now under a lunar eclipse at Busch Stadium. Here’s hoping he’s back for 2005. Facial blemish aside, he danced with the partner he brought.

I’m a third-generation Cardinal fan. My grandfather never took my dad to Sportsman’s Park to see the great Musial, much less to see a World Series contest. With the help of more friends than I can count, Dad and I pulled it off Tuesday night for the 18th World Series game to be played at Busch Stadium since it opened in 1966. We could see Stan the Man’s pearly whites as he threw out the first pitch, caught by none other than Bob Gibson. (Oh, but if we could have had Gibby on the hill that night!) But legends, alas, aren’t replicated by the will of a father and son. Legends are made by retiring 14 consecutive batters to take your team within nine innings of a world championship. This night belonged to Pedro Martinez and the Bosox.

After the game, Dad and I shuffled over to Mike Shannon’s restaurant, across Market Street from the stadium in downtown St. Louis. Budweiser, of course, was the salve. Packed within this eatery — decorated wall to wall with, what else, baseball history — were fellow members of Cardinal Nation. Damp from the rain, and some tears. Still dressed almost entirely in red, many of their caps with the fancy World Series logo newly attached. Knowing what was surely imminent, my spirits (so to speak) were near rock bottom.

But like the Grinch after stealing every last item from Whoville, I noticed something truly odd about my extended family of Cardinal loyalists. They were smiling, laughing even. Shaking hands and allowing the scattered Red Sox fans to soak up Cardinal Country for a night. You see, they knew — as do my dad and I — there will be another Cardinal game. Another win, even. Perhaps, I’d like to believe, another championship.