Month: December 2004

Categories
Politics Politics Beat Blog

POLITICS: News Cycle

NEWS CYCLE

JANUARY: 2004 At annual New YearÕs Day prayer breakfast Mayor Willie Herenton virtually declares war on his council, while seeming to claim divine sanction. Background? Personnel matters, still-fresh MLGW prepayment deal with TVA, HerentonÕs ID as Alpha male. Darker issues rumored. Readers can chart this pilgrimÕs progress by comparing my interview with Hizzoner (ÒThe Testament of Willie Herenton;Ó just google that title) with mayorÕs year-end sitdown in this issue with my colleague John Branston.

Road duty in Iowa and New Hampshire, where the once high-flying Howard Dean first teeters, then crashes to earth while John Kerry begins his improbable rise to the Democratic nomination.

FEBRUARY: In unexpectedly pivotal Tennessee primary, Kerry disposes of Wesley Clark and John Edwards and virtually seals his eventual win. Former Veep Al Gore, at Nashville rally, denounces President Bush for ÒbetrayingÓ the country in Iraq.

At ClarkÕs swan-song speech, I hear about Bob Mintz, a former Alabama Air National Guard pilot, who Ð with his buddy Paul Bishop Ð ends up telling me about BushÕs 1972 no-show at their Alabama ANG base. The resulting story goes national and perculates throughout the election year.

Councilman Brent Taylor on HerentonÕs issuance of a physical dare: ÒI donÕt want to meet him outside. I want to meet him at the Health Department. I want him to pass in a cup so we can see what heÕs on.Ó

MARCH: New council member (and 2007 mayoral hopeful) Carol Chumney begins yearlong breakaway from her colleagues, charging Òpetty in-fighting.Ó Councilman Jack Sammons: ÒShe makes [former maverick member John] Vergos look like a team player.Ó 9th District congressman Harold Ford gets some flak from Germantown Democratic Club members from what they see as ÒBush-liteÓ attitudes.

APRIL: 7th District congressman Marsha Blackburn comes back from Iraq with rosy prospectus. Former county commissioner Morris Fair dies Ð not long after making dramatic — and pivotal testimony — against multi-million-dollar settlement with Clark Construction Co., over Convention Center cost overruns. Co-cover story with Branston (ÒConvention Center Cave-InÓ) documents the settlementÕs flaws, and the commission says no.

MAY: In Topeka, Kansas, for Brown v. Board of Education commemoration.

In Nashville, Governor Phil Bredesen gets heat from fellow Democrats about workersÕ comp reforms Ð but will prevail. Former state Democratic chair Bill Farmer: ÒGovernor, I wish I had voted for Van Hilleary two years ago instead of working to get you elected. He couldnÕt have done the damage to us that youÕve done.Ó State Sen. John Ford in debate on air travel restrictions: ÒI donÕt fly from here to Memphis. I drive Ð though some of you may describe that as flying.”

Congressman Ford is incorrectly listed by Washington Times as party to testimonial dinner for Rev. Sun Myung Moon, who claims, improbably, to be the Òmessiah.ÓJUNE: The first report that Herenton might resign because of ongoing Ð and at this point undefined — investigations. Mayoral press secretary Gal Jones Carson: ÒThis mayor has nothing to hideÓ : Republican icon John T. Williams dies, following ex-councilman Bob James, his fellow nonagenarian, by mere weeks. Two Republican county commissioners, chairman Marilyn Loeffel and first-termer Bruce Thompson continue a year-long feud.over both personal and policy issues. Interview with now you see him/now you donÕt gadfly presidential candidate Ralph Nader.

JULY: A memo materializes from deposed MLGW head Herman Morris to the utilityÕs erstwhile financial officer, detailing both HerentonÕs high-pressure lobbying on brokering deal and role in process of MLGWÕs head-to-be Joseph Lee. Several Ford-family members do a wrestling caper. Up in Boston, where the national Democrats convene, a new star materializes Ð IllinoisÕ senator-to- be Barack Obama.

AUGUST: Shelby County holds a countywide general election and statewide primary. Key winners: Assessor Rita Clark, General Sessions Clerk Chris Turner, Chancellor Arnold Goldin, GOP State Rep-nominee Brian Kelsey. Bobby Lanier and Susan Thorp lose county jobs in controversy over retirement benefits for ex-aide Tom Jones, who begins yearlong term at federal prison camp in Arkansas. GOP convenes in New York and renominates President Bush.

SEPTEMBER: Mintz story resurfaces nationally but is quickly trumped by CBSÕ Rathergate . Democratic legislative stalwarts Jimmy Naifeh and John Wilder face determined foes Ð but will survive. Former legislator Pam Gaia, a gallant reformer, dies. Herenton, before Jones-Johnson light-heavy championship fight at new FedEx Forum, acknowledges he has thought about stepping down.

OCTOBER: Religious Right icon Ed McAteer dies. Tragic death of county commissioner Joyce AveryÕs daughter underscores problems with 911 system Ð as does much lamented heart-attack death of ex-mayor Wyeth Chandler one month later. An Arkansas bus crash kills 14 Chicagoans. George Flinn is named a new county commissioner, to succeed Linda Rendtorff, now a Wharton aide. Michael Moore does local no-show. E.H. Crump Collection unveiled at the Central Library.

NOVEMBER: Election year ends with local victory for Kerry-Edwards. Defeated nationally and statewide, Democrats begin long debate over future. Wesley Clark, interviewed at Clinton Library dedication in Little Rock, looks toward Õ08.

. DECEMBER: Chumney again, on MLGW. Wharton pumps for new tax.. Curtis Person squeezed by GOP state Senate colleagues. ÒBombshellÓ promised for HerentonÕs New Year prayer breakfast? ErÉ.To Be Continued.

Categories
Opinion Viewpoint

Two George Ws

David Hackett Fischer’s new history, Washington’s Crossing, affords a sorrowful comparison between the first George W, who crossed the Delaware, and the second, whose closest exploit was to cross the Tigris to be filmed serving a fake turkey to the troops.

Lurid accounts of Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo, and the secret detention and mental destruction of men suspected of being enemies of the United States have riveted much of the rest of the world. They are a big source of America’s crumbling image as the exemplar of human rights.

The Geneva Conventions, which regulate the treatment of prisoners of war, is considered “quaint” and outmoded by the Bush administration. That is the famous description in a policy memo passed through the president’s lawyer, Alberto Gonzalez, now his nominee to replace John Ashcroft as attorney general. It authorized mental and physical torture and death threats as long as death was not imminent and the pain did not reach that which accompanies organ failure.

America is now facing a different, more brutal and immoral enemy than nations ever faced before, the administration says. The old civil standards just won’t keep nations safe from the religious extremists who will kill and blow themselves up to serve Allah. The International Committee of the Red Cross, Human Rights Watch, and the other bleeding-heart humanitarian groups that used to file nasty reports on communist regimes, Iraq, or Latin American tyrants don’t understand that.

But, you see, all of this human-rights stuff started with the United States. Actually, it began with General Washington, who was sickened by the systematic torture of captive Revolutionary soldiers. They were brutalized, shot, beheaded, quartered, and their corpses mutilated by British troops and Hessian mercenaries who, as combatants nearly always do in war, had come to see their foes as subhuman. By contemporary accounts they make Abu Musab al-Zarqawi’s bloodthirsty men in Iraq look halfway humane.

Washington had reports of American militiamen tied to trees and bayoneted or, after being brutalized, lined up by the scores and shot through the head. On November 16, 1776, peering across the river from the Jersey Palisades with his telescope, Washington watched as many of the 2,800 Americans killed in the battle for New York were put to the sword after surrendering. He turned aside and began to sob, according to aides, “with the tenderness of a child.”

Washington vowed that Americans would be different and he ordered that all prisoners be treated humanely. He issued a broadside that prisoners should be treated humanely and not as enemies.

After the battle of Princeton, Washington ordered one of his officers to take charge of 211 British privates. “Treat them with humanity,” he directed, “and let them have no reason to complain of our copying the brutal example of the British army in their treatment of our unfortunate brethren. Provide everything necessary for them on the road.”

That became the policy of the Revolution and of the new nation, articulated most eloquently by John Adams. The accounts of British barbarities toward prisoners “harrow me beyond description,” he wrote. “Piety, humanity, honesty” would be forever U.S. policy. War was to be conducted with humanity and consideration for individual rights, in accordance with the values of the American Revolution itself.

As Fischer says in the closing words of Washington’s Crossing: “Too many writers have told us that we are captives of our darker selves and helpless victims of our history. It isn’t so, and never was . Americans in an earlier generation were capable of acting in a higher spirit — and so are we.” •

Ernest Dumas is a columnist for the Arkansas Times, where a somewhat different version of this essay first appeared.

Categories
News The Fly-By

AM I BLUE?

Congressman Harold Ford Jr. recently dashed off a letter to the soon-to-be-ex-director of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge, asking why Memphis home to the busiest cargo airport in the world, numerous chemical plants, and a major port will see an $8.2 million cut in Homeland Security funding. Ford told the media, “Eliminating this funding while providing it to smaller cities that may be at less risk makes no sense.” Other cities losing funding for the Urban Area Security Initiative include Orlando, St. Paul, Albany, New York, and New Haven, Connecticut. All five cities supported Senator John Kerry in the recent presidential elections. Of course, we all know there’s not a vindictive bone in the entire Bush administration, so that last little factoid surely has nothing to do with the UASI cuts and should probably be ignored by everyone, especially the media. Happy New Year, anyhow. — Chris Davis

Plante: How It Looks

Categories
Opinion

Reverse Gatsbys

Two very strange courtroom spectacles are about to unfold in Los Angeles: first, the murder trial of Robert Blake, starting this month, and then the murder trial of Phil Spector, most likely starting in spring of 2005. I’ve been covering these cases for a while now, and as I’ve become more familiar with each story, I’ve realized that Blake and Spector are similar characters, reverse Gatsbys whose east-to-west family journeys spelled their doom. To paraphrase Gladys Knight and the Pips, L.A. proved too much for the men.

This translates into high, weird, and welcome drama involving A- to E-level Hollywood players, with possibly even Kato Kaelin sitting courtside. (He evidently accompanied Spector to a recording session a while ago.) Blake and Spector are far more interesting than two of the three other prominent West Coast defendants in the news lately. I refer to the banal and recently condemned Scott Peterson (whose face has no expression, looks almost fetal, and yet, oddly, is attached to a grown-up body) and Kobe Bryant (as a firm believer in nomenclatural destiny, I am convinced that Kobe lived up to his given name, becoming nothing more than a cut of foreign beef).

Dominick Dunne, the yenta in the Brooks Brothers suit, recently came to the same conclusion, sticking his finger in the smog and telling the San Francisco Chronicle that Blake and Spector are now the cases to follow. It was clear all along that while the Peterson episode signified nothing more or less than itself, when it comes to the human condition–and specifically the American subcondition — the Blake and Spector cases, frighteningly, are where it’s at.

Both Blake and Spector come from scrappy New York-area families — Blake (né Gubitosi) from New Jersey, Spector from Brooklyn. Both men experienced major acts of violence as children. Both are short, are said to wear lifts, and have explosive tempers. And it would seem that their major left or right turns were predestined. The most crucial decision in their lives, to move west, was made by their parents. Blake, now 70, was 5 or 6 when his father decided to take advantage of the Depression mania for child stars and move his family to Los Angeles so his talented kids could sing for their supper. Blake joined the Little Rascals, then appeared in the Red Ryder cowboys-and-Indians series, and then as the beggar boy with Humphrey Bogart in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. As he tells it, his abusive father used to lock him in a closet with a dog collar, then let him out and make him beg for food. That’s when he learned an important lesson: Acting like a junkyard dog would bring what passed for love.

Over time, Blake perfected this talent, playing the beloved Baretta on the cop show of the same name, having delivered the flip side of this character with his chilling portrayal of the notorious killer Perry Smith in the 1967 film version of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. (And Smith’s favorite movie was The Treasure of the Sierra Madre — yet more evidence that Hollywood runs through every vein of the Robert Blake story.) For years, Blake was a regular on Johnny Carson, uttering Baretta catch phrases such as “Dat’s da name of dat tune,” a perpetual prisoner of his tough-guy persona. By the time Bonny Bakley, the wretched and sad woman he is accused of killing, crossed the velvet rope and began her fatal affair with Blake, he was an American institution with legions of fans.

The collision was bound to happen. Also from a poor and violent New Jersey family, Bakley was suckled on fame, groomed to commit suicide by a backstage pass. Raised by a grandmother who loved Robert Blake, she vowed that she would be famous someday. When I met with Bakley’s sister Margerry in a New Jersey diner, she told me that one of Bakley’s last acts was to watch her favorite movie, Sunset Boulevard. At the end, she turned to Margerry and said, “I wonder what it feels like to get shot in the head.” Blake is now accused of answering the question, and Bakley is famous, buried near celebrities at Forest Lawn. And Blake, a vastly underrated actor who is often taken for his screen persona, may not be able to win an acquittal; everyone thinks he’s either Baretta or Perry Smith — both of whom used guns, one of whom swung from the gallows.

Spector, too, is a prisoner of his persona, the monster that Tom Wolfe created in 1965 in a giddy profile in the New York Herald Tribune called “The First Tycoon of Teen,” which inexplicably remains the go-to piece on Spector. “Every baroque period has a flowering genius who rises up as the most glorious expression of its style of life,” Wolfe wrote of the rock mogul who had by then produced dozens of hits. “He is the first boy to become a millionaire within America’s teenage netherworld.” But Wolfe never made a connection between Spector’s past and current behavior, already vicious and out of control. In 1949, when Spector was 8, his father killed himself in broad daylight by sitting in a parked car in front of the family house and filling it with carbon monoxide from the gas pipe as people apparently walked right by.

Spector’s mother moved the family to Los Angeles. As a teenager at Fairfax High, Spector turned his life over to music. In 1958, he wrote and recorded the first in a string of huge hits, “To Know Him Is To Love Him” (his father’s epitaph). He is most celebrated for conjuring the “wall of sound,” a greasy and wet rock style with lots of instruments and overdub. But behind the wall of sound, Spector had a nasty tic: To blot out echoes of his father’s abandonment, he tried to prevent people — especially women — from leaving, even if it meant holding them at gunpoint as they tried to walk out the door. This fact is so rarely mentioned in the gallons of ink spilled over Spector that I’ve wondered if the fame-seeking Lana Clarkson would have gone to his house on the night she died had she known it. “Phil couldn’t stand being alone,” his idol, Ahmet Ertegun, told me some time ago.

His collision with Clarkson also seemed inevitable. The ultimate California girl, Clarkson was a big blonde with a modicum of talent.

Born around the time Marilyn Monroe died, she identified with Marilyn so much that I’ve fancied that she inhaled Marilyn’s soul as she took her first breath and thus sealed her fate. A starlet in her 20s, by 45 Clarkson was hostessing at the House of Blues. Still, she had aspirations. Imagine, in Marilyn’s voice of quiet desperation, Clarkson meeting Spector as her shift ends and thinking: “Maybe he can help me.”

Like Bakley, she died of a gunshot wound to the head. Days before her death, she was fired from a play called Brentwood Blondes, about famous dead women. She was set to play Marilyn. Now she has been written back in as herself. And Spector, once again, is alone, taken down, like Blake, by the American dream’s new L.A. twist. •

Deanne Stillman’s new book, Horse Latitudes, will be published by Houghton Mifflin.

Categories
News News Feature

Iraq Reality Check

It’s hard to make Iraq into a suitable Christmas topic, unless one bears news of Our Boys getting home-knit socks and home-baked cookies from Lard Lake or Fluterville. Mere mention is enough to drive full-grown adults to doctored eggnog. Nevertheless, since the season should require us to do at least some thinking about the killing being done in our name, let’s do a reality check.

The Sabbath gasbags, as The Nation‘s Calvin Trillin calls our Sunday TV news commentators, distinguished themselves yet again. They’re trying to gang up on Donald Rumsfeld on the theory that the entire Iraq war would have worked out just dandy if it hadn’t been for Rumsfeld’s mistakes.

This shark attack was precipitated by blood in the water — to wit, Rumsfeld’s dismissive answer to a soldier inquiring as to why his unit’s vehicles weren’t armored. Rumsfeld treated the soldier exactly the way he treats members of the press or anyone else who raises questions about the war: as though he were an impertinent fool. It didn’t look good on television.

For those now waxing indignant about Rumsfeld and the whole situation concerning armor, I remind you that when 60 Minutes carried exactly this story in October, as did other news outlets, the right wing promptly pounced on it as further evidence of supposed liberal bias in the media.

Rumsfeld’s mistakes may constitute an impressive list, but is there any evidence that this war could ever have worked out well? I know, anyone who asks that question is promptly denounced by the right wing, insisting, as the media watchdog group FAIR puts it, “that the war is going well and anyone who feels otherwise is a defeatist liberal uninterested in bringing democracy to the Middle East.”

So far, we have not brought democracy to Iraq. We have brought blood, killing, and death. Our so-called liberal media do a pathetically inadequate job of telling us about the war because, first, it is too dangerous to cover most of the country, and second, reporters who are critical of the endeavor are blacklisted by our military. The few American reporters who speak Arabic are sending hair-raising reports.

For evidence that the whole enterprise needed to be rethought from the beginning, I cite the Los Angeles Times story from June about the iconic image of this war — the toppling of the statue of Saddam Hussein in the great square in Baghdad. It was actually a U.S. Army psy-ops stunt staged to look like a spontaneous action by Iraqis.

“It was a Marine colonel — not joyous Iraqi civilians, as was widely assumed from the TV images — who decided to topple the statue, the Army report said. And it was a quick-thinking Army psychological operations team that made it appear to be a spontaneous Iraqi undertaking.”

From then ’til this past election, when Bush kept insisting no more troops were necessary, we have been treated like mushrooms. On December 1st, the administration announced 12,000 more troops would be added, mostly by extending the tours of those due to come home and drafting very surprised National Guardsmen.

It’s hard to imagine any group more credulous than the American media in relation to this administration. It’s like Charlie Brown and the football. The latest talking point is that all the naysayers will be proven wrong and the elections in Iraq will work. Well, okay, we all hope so. But what is the evidence? The attacks go up day after day, from all over the country.

The U.S. response is that these attacks are the last gasp of a desperate insurgency trying to buffalo Iraqis before the elections, and it will all collapse after that. That is exactly what the administration told us before the “handover” to the puppet Iraqi government last June. The attacks went up from 20 to 30 to 50 and now to 100 a day.

Meanwhile, we keep bombing Iraqis. I sometimes think Americans don’t realize that. This is not “precision,” “pinpoint” bombing — it’s bombing. It kills innocent people. The best we can hope for from this election is that the Shiite slate endorsed by al-Sistani wins. That would be the slate pledged to ask the United States to leave the minute it gets in. With any luck, they’ll ask politely.

Elsewhere on our suffering orb, genocide proceeds in Darfur. The United States won’t act. The United Nations won’t act. We’re all … just letting it happen. Again.

The new film Hotel Rwanda has come to remind us all of the moral complicity of those who do nothing but sit and watch. The least we can do in honor of the season is send money to the relief organizations. And you might, if you don’t have hand-cramp from writing all your cards wishing for peace on earth, write your congressman as well. •

Molly Ivins is a best-selling author and columnist who writes about politics, Texas, and other bizarre happenings.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

A Pot To Black-eyed Pea In

The question lingers: were the little filth-mottled peas just asking for a beating? Did they have a smart mouth? Could it be that they just don’t listen? Or maybe those tiny, dirt-flavored legumes, common as they are, find comfort and security in the occasional bout of minor but nevertheless disfiguring physical abuse? No matter how you prepare the humble black-eyed pea, that time-honored New Year’s staple seems an unlikely harbinger of wealth and good fortune. It’s a poor man’s comfort and bruised at birth. But every year, after the last drops of champagne are gone and the worst hangover is nursed to a dull throb, we eat these little beans for good luck. Why in the world?

The sympathetic magic at work in most New Years’ traditions is fairly obvious. Of course, you want that special someone beside you at the stroke of midnight because beginning the New Year with a warm, wet smooch wards off romantic entropy and ensures that love will linger for at least another dozen months or so. The cupboard should always be full on January 1st, because a leanly stocked larder — according to tradition — means belts will have to be tightened and budgets carefully managed in the coming year.

Those who hope to grow their capital holdings over the next 12 months shouldn’t remove anything from their home on New Year’s Day. They shouldn’t take out the garbage, sweep out the dust, or even, um, flush. In a best-case scenario (regardless of one’s sexual orientation), the day’s first visitor should be a tall, dark-haired man bearing a small token of affection: A bottle of wine is perfect, but even an evergreen sprig will do the trick. If all of these rituals are observed and the magic works, then unexpected riches will flow into the house.

And then there’s the tradition of the pauper’s pea.

Black-eyed peas, whose origins are speculative at best but which may go back to Africa, India, or perhaps even China, swell during the cooking process, creating a vague metaphor for prosperity. At least that’s the best explanation I’ve found for why the dish is thought to be lucky. If served with rice and some sort of pork product, so much the better. Some black-eyed pea experts say that consuming the peas in any form or quantity will guarantee good fortune throughout the year. Others (professional bean counters, no doubt) claim you’ll enjoy one 24-hour period of good fortune for each and every bean you eat. Most black-eyed traditions, however, are supremely capitalist and quite literally tied to the concept of raking in cold hard scratch.

Throughout the Deep South, black-eyed peas are prepared with turnip greens, which allegedly represent folding money. In Texas, where people tend to be a bit too literal-minded, they substitute cabbage or (disgustingly enough) actual dollar bills. The most common monetary tradition, however, is to hide a shiny new dime in the pea pot. Everyone who partakes in the feast can expect good luck, but the person who finds the dime will enjoy an especially large slice of the economic pie. If they don’t choke to death first. Searching for hidden treasures in a New Year’s dish dates back at least to the Romans, though instead of searching for money in a pot of beans, it was more likely that the pre-Christian reveler would be searching for beans hidden inside a holiday cake. These pagan hide-and-seek traditions were assimilated by early Christians and continued through the Middle Ages, becoming most closely associated with 12th Night (January 6th) and the Feast of Fools. The King Cake, an Advent tradition wherein a doll representing the baby Jesus — a stand-in for the more pagan baby New Year — is hidden inside a circular pastry, is a direct descendant of these ancient rituals. The round cake now represents a crown and Christ’s divinity, but the circle also represents completion, eternity, and the New Year. Eating circular food has always been considered lucky, and in many European countries, doughnuts are still consumed on New Year’s Day for the same reason.

Now that you know a bit more about why we eat the battered bean, here’s a Memphis-meets-New Orleans recipe for Hoppin’ John, the luckiest of all New Year’s dishes.

Ingredients: 1 cup rice cooked in chicken broth (seasoned with a sprig of thyme); 1/2 pound andouille sausage; 1 onion diced; 2 cloves minced garlic; 1/2 cup green bell pepper, chopped; 16 ounces black-eyed peas, cooked and drained; 1/4cup of your favorite barbecue sauce; 1/2 pound barbecue pork shoulder, chopped. Salt, pepper, and Tabasco to taste.

Preparation: In a large saucepan brown the andouille, then add the onions and celery, cooking them until they are clear. Stir in the rice, black-eyed peas, barbecue sauce, pork, and seasoning.Serve immediately, with or without a dime, depending on your fear of choking. Serves 4-6. •

Categories
Sports Sports Feature

New Year’s Resolutions

The Memphis Grizzlies face an uphill battle to get back into the playoff hunt, but if these key players make and keep the following New Year’s resolutions, they just might pull it off:

Pau Gasol: Protect the ball under duress. For a maximum-contract player, Gasol still has plenty of areas that need work, with clutch scoring and defensive rebounding near the top of the list. But turnovers are the real killer. Through the first 28 games of the season, the Grizzlies went 12-16, but were 1-6 when Gasol coughed the ball up four or more times. The key to that correlation may be in how Gasol’s turnovers occur. When the post defensive toughens up late in the game and Gasol tries to put the ball on the floor to attack the basket, a good hard bump is usually enough to dislodge the ball. Turnovers in these situations are deflating for the team. For the Grizzlies to regain some of the fourth-quarter effectiveness that marked the Hubie Brown era, Gasol needs to take care of the ball.

Jason Williams: Don’t let up. During the opening weeks of this season, Williams played perhaps the least effective basketball of his career. He was rumored to be a key instigator of Hubie Brown’s retirement and hit the injured list as soon as Mike Fratello took over. Many assumed Earl Watson would stay at the helm of the team and Williams would be on the trading block. Expectations for J-Will were lower than ever, but he not only regained his starting job after returning from the injured list; he played great, with big minutes and big production. There’s a history here, of course. As a rookie in Sacramento, Williams became an instant star but eventually wore on his coach and found himself on the bench in the fourth quarter. Under Brown, Williams experienced another renaissance, but that relationship seemed to sour this season. Now, with another new coach in place, Williams seems to be thriving. How long can it last?

Earl Watson: Be content. Watson will be a free agent at the end of the season and will be looking for a starting job and starter’s salary somewhere. In the past, he’s been vocal about his lack of playing time. With Williams regaining the starting job and playing well, the team needs Watson to be content as one of the NBA’s best back-up point guards.

Mike Miller: Let it fly. A timid shooter in his injury-riddled first full season as a Griz last year, Miller found confidence in his textbook stroke this season. Better still, even during his rare slumps this season, he hasn’t been scared to let it fly. The Griz need Miller to take every open jumper he can get.

Lorenzen Wright: Pass it up. Wright is the Grizzlies’ toughest interior defender and maybe the team’s best defensive rebounder, but his offense can be a little scary. Wright is streaky with his mid-range jumper and little flip shot. When he’s on, you can live with it. When he isn’t, the Grizzlies couldn’t find a worse shot in the halfcourt if they tried. Hubie Brown always preached about knowing when to shoot and when to pass. Wright should perhaps choose the latter more frequently.

James Posey: Get well. After a dismal start recovering from a foot injury, Posey seems to finally be rounding into shape. He started slowly last year too (for much the same reason) but emerged as an All-Star caliber performer down the stretch. Posey’s ability to elevate his game again this spring might be the key to the Griz getting back to the postseason. Let’s hope his foot will let him do so.

Shane Battier: Sink the corner “J.” With the Grizzlies’ chemistry a little out of whack this season and injuries more of a factor, Battier’s status as glue guy — the most dependable player on the court — has become even more crucial. Effort and intangibles are never in question when Battier is in the game, but to be truly effective, he needs to knock down open shots. Battier likes the long bomb from the corner. Here’s hoping it falls for him more in the new year.

Stromile Swift: Finish plays. Most of Swift’s offense comes on dunks or a fluttery mid-range jumper that seems less sure than a year ago. But how is it possible for a 6’9″ jumping-jack who dunks everything he touches to be shooting only around 40 percent from the floor — a weak number for a guard, much less a post player? Chalk it up to Swift’s difficulty finishing plays around the basket that he can’t dunk. For the Griz’ sake, let’s hope Swift can become a more efficient scorer in the coming months.

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We Recommend We Recommend

friday, 31

Thursday, 30; Friday, 31st: I guess this is the last edition of the ol’ Memphis Flyer for the year 2004, and I would take a look back and reflect upon the highlights of the past year, but I’m afraid it might make me kill someone. Yep, rap someone on the head with a fireplace poker. Beat someone to death with a frozen ham and then cook it and feed it to friends to get rid of the murder weapon. Hold a photo of George W. Bush so close to a person’s face that he disintegrates from shock and horror. Uh, the person disintegrates, that is, not George W. Bush. Well, wait. Let’s rethink that one. What if George W. Bush disintegrated like the Wicked Witch of the West? What if you could just throw a bucket of water on him and make him melt into a puddle of goop and spoil his beautiful wickedness? Oh, never mind. I digress. I actually gave up a couple of seconds of my life thinking about him. I think I was writing about killing someone. And I was JUST KIDDING. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. But I do think that I have become the meanest, grumpiest person I know. I don’t know if it’s old age or brain damage or the perpetual sinus infection I have or the fact that if I hear one more Christmas carol I am going to drive my car through the front window of a department store, but I have become absolutely intolerable. I curse at the television every time I witness an advertisement that has a jingle. I loathe jingles. They are the work of Satan. People who write them should be forced to sleep with Pepino from The Real McCoys. I just saw a piece on the news about a woman who had a baby. That was the story. Just that she had a baby. She had it in the car on the way to the hospital, like that has never happened before, and it was a big story on the Today show, the most watched news show in the world. I gave up roughly two minutes of my life watching it. And cursing at the television about it. The father was cross-eyed and had less than a firm grip on the art of good grammar and had a really creepy laugh and I couldn’t hold back from screaming, “Why must people reproduce?!!!” Don’t even get me started on the news. My stomach gets tied up in knots feeling bad for Matt Lauer because he appears to be in a constant state of cringing for being forced by his producers to immediately follow a horrifying report about American soldiers being blown to bits with a perky piece about Paris Hilton because that’s what the viewing audience wants to hear. I can’t believe how mean I am. The only remotely interesting thing I came across in the news this morning was the piece about David Gest and the lawsuit in which he is involved regarding his alleged refusal to pay a contractor for renovations done on his $1.1 million South Bluffs home. The suit filed by the contractor claims that Gest “has unreasonably failed and refused” to pay for the work, which the contractor claims is just fine. According to the news account I read, Gest claimed that “a kindergarten child could have done better.” Meeee-ow! Whatever the case, my question is, who in the hell would pay $1.1 million for a home that needs work? Shouldn’t a $1.1 million home be okay as is? What could it possibly need? And to make it even better, the alleged work included renovations to the laundry room. Why would someone spend money to have a laundry room renovated? I have given up a good few minutes of my life thinking about this. This is why I am so mean. I want to see that damn laundry room for myself! I’ll not rest until I do! Until I see it I am going to act like my 18-year-old cat and just walk around the house and scream. Like that would be something new. Ha! Can someone please say, “GIVE ME A CIGARETTE!!!” Oh, well. I guess I’d better toss my bitterness and nicotine withdrawal to the wind and get around to the real point of all this: what’s going on around town this week. Here’s a brief look. Thursday, the 31st:, The Four Tops are at Gold Strike Casino in Tunica. And those crazedJumpin’ Chi-Chi‘s are at the Blue Monkey Midtown.

Friday night, the 31st, is, of course, New Year’s Eve. Many of you will likely get potted and act like idiots. I wouldn’t know anything about that. If you prefer to be a bit more civilized, you can see two of Memphis’ most beautiful, precious singers perform. Opera star Kallen Esperian is performing a New Year’s Eve concert with the Memphis Symphony Orchestra at the Cannon Center. And the fabulous Wendy Moten returns to town to sing at Isaac Hayes Food * Music * Passion along with Voodoo Village. I’m sure there are many, many other wonderful things going on all over town, but I really don’t care. I love Kallen Esperian and Wendy Moten and that’s it. — Tim Sampson

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Party Like It’s 2005

Did you spend last New Year’s Eve home alone as revelers counted down to the new year on your TV? Was that you who spent the evening wiping up vomit at that not-so-happening house party? Could it be that you swore to find something cool to do next New Year’s Eve as one of your resolutions?

Well, now is the time to act. Here are a few ideas:

BEALE STREET

Most everyone resolves to get in shape for the new year, so why not cram yourself full one last time? Check out the prime rib dinner at B.B. KING’S (147 Beale Street, 524-KING) and stick around for entertainment by Larry Springfield and Preston Shannon. Fifty bucks reserves a table for dinner, but if you’ve already started your diet, you can pay $20 just to watch the show. Seating for dinner begins at 7 p.m., and the music starts at 8 p.m. If it’s jam bands you like, head over to BLUES CITY CAFE (138/140 Beale Street, 526-3637) and check out FreeWorld from 10 p.m. to 3:30 a.m. And since you’re hanging out on Beale Street, you might as well hear some blues. The Eric Hughes Band will be laying down their Delta-blues sound at the KING’S PALACE CAFE (162 Beale Street, 529-0007) from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. Reservations are required, but the $25 charge ensures you a table for the night. The NEW DAISY (330 Beale Street, 525-8979) is the place to go for a good dose of Memphis indie rock. Local faves Lucero will be heating up the stage along with The Glass, Secret Service, 7 $ Sox, Vending Machine, and Jeffrey Evans, beginning at 7 p.m. Tickets are $10 and should be purchased in advance. THE PLUSH CLUB (380 Beale Street, 527-0063) is all about bringing in the new year with lots and lots of food. VIP tickets ($75) will get you admission to a dinner buffet (8-11 p.m.) and a breakfast buffet (12:30 a.m.). Other clubgoers ($30) can dine from the breakfast buffet at 1 p.m., and VIPs will join the rest of the crowd for a champagne toast at midnight. Performing at RUM BOOGIE CAFE (182 Beale Street, 528-0150) is James Govan and the Boogie Blues Band at 10 p.m. Reservations are required, and tickets are $25.

COLLIERVILLE/ CORDOVA/ GERMANTOWN

At EQUESTRIA RESTAURANT & LOUNGE (3165 Forest Hill-Irene, 869-2663), there’s a four-course dinner where you can choose between such gourmet eats as stuffed shrimp, lobster bisque, grilled lamb chops, and roasted Chilean sea bass. The meal is $90 per person, and reservations are required. Not feeling so upscale? Have a famous Huey’s burger and check out the sounds of The No Hit Wonders at HUEY’S CORDOVA (1771 N. Germantown Parkway, 754-3885) at 9 p.m. ($5 cover). If party-hopping is more your style, head to T.J. MULLIGAN’S CORDOVA (8071 Trinity Road, 756-4480) where you can hear Tom, Dick, & Harry ($10 cover) and pick up a wristband that will get you into all four T.J. Mulligan’s locations for the night.

DOWNTOWN

Downtown partygoers in the mood for a laid-back celebration should head to AUTOMATIC SLIM’S TONGA CLUB (83 South Second, 525-7948) where Memphis jazzman Gary Johns will perform. Enjoy the four-course dinner, complete with party favors, for $65 a person. But if it’s beer (and a glass of midnight bubbly) you’re after, the FLYING SAUCER (130 Peabody Place, 523-8536) is the place to be. Locals Deep Shag will be in the house, and $10 at the door will get a glass of champagne at midnight and party favors. Parties of four or more can reserve tables for $10 per person. The new South Main glass art gallery/cafe GLASSHOUSE 383 (383 South Main, 527-0055) will feature entertainment from Maria Spence. The $20 tickets include dessert, a commemorative photo, party favors, and champagne. For a really fancy shindig, check out the New Year’s Eve Gala at the MADISON HOTEL (79 Madison Avenue, 333-1200) where Amy & The Tramps will be playing after a five-course dinner. Cover is $150 per person. Just a few blocks over, THE PEABODY is hosting another sophisticated affair. The bash is more like three parties in one with Gabby Johnson in the Grand Ballroom, G.I. Joe Mama in the Continental Ballroom, and Blind Mississippi Morris at the Corner Bar. The $30 cover gets you into all three shows. Special menus are offered at Capriccio Grill for $95 per person and Chez Philippe for $125 per person. It’s a flashback to the days of spandex and hairspray at SWIG (100 Peabody Place, 522-8515) as they ring in the new year ’80s-style. DJs Graflin Booth and Shoke will be spinning house and techno while mixing in your ’80s favorites from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. The best part? There’s no cover.

EAST MEMPHIS

THE COCKEYED CAMEL (6080 Primacy Parkway, 683-4056) may have moved to a new location, but they still know how to throw one hell of a party. Backstage Pass will play from 9 p.m. to 1 a.m., and they’ll be offering some special New Year’s menu selections. Reservations are required ($25 cover). If you’re planning to spend the evening with your sweetie, go out for a romantic dinner at ERLING JENSEN (1044 South Yates, 763-3700) where the four-course dinner features shrimp bisque and fillet of buffalo ($80 per person). There’s free grub at THE PARAGON LOUNGE (2865 Walnut Grove, 320-0026) at 10:30 p.m. and a free soul food buffet and champagne toast at midnight. WALLY JOE (5040 Sanderlin, 818-0821) will feature their annual New Year’s Eve tasting menu for $90 per person. You can try foie gras, truffles, and caviar. Or check out a band named after our beloved freeway, 240 Loop at WILLIE MOFFATT’S (2779 Whitten Road, 386-2710) for $10.

HICKORY HILL/ SOUTHEAST

Spend the last night of the year throwing toothpicks at the ceiling and writing on the walls (and tables and booths) at HUEY’S SOUTHWIND (7825 Winchester, 624-8911), where you can chow down to the sounds of Blue Gauge ($5 cover).

MIDTOWN

Put on your dancin’ shoes and rhinestone polyester jumpsuits and head over to BACKSTREET (2018 Court Avenue, 276-5522), where they’ll be partying like it’s 1979 rather than 2005. At “A Flashback to Studio 54,“ Backstreet promises “unexpected entertainment,” a balloon drop at midnight, $5,000 in prizes, party favors, and a champagne toast. At the BLUE MONKEY (2012 Madison Avenue, 272-BLUE), you can hear bluesman Carlos Ecos for $10. Follow Kenny Brown around Midtown for some hill-country blues. First, he’ll be at THE BUCCANEER (1368 Monroe, 278-0909) from 9 to 10:30 p.m. where revelers can enjoy a gourmet buffet ($10 cover). Then he’s moving on to THE GLASS ONION (903 South Cooper, 274-5151) along with The Tearjerkers and Troelz Jensen ($15 cover). The Onion will also have door prizes, drink specials, and a champagne toast. At the HI-TONE CAFE (1913 Poplar, 278-TONE), it’s the 3rd Annual “World’s Greatest Rock ‘•’ Roll New Year’s Eve Party” with The Reigning Sound and Mr. Quintron for $10. If one of your resolutions this year involves more travel, you should head to SENSES (2866 Poplar, 454-4081), where attendees of their “Times Square New York New Year’s Extravaganza” are eligible to win trips to Las Vegas and Acapulco as well as cash prizes. Multiple DJs will be spinning dance music, and the Times Square countdown will be broadcast on giant screens. Cover is $25 per person or $40 per couple. You could see The Ruffin Brown Band at XY&Z (394 N. Watkins, 722-8225) or check out the Southern soul sounds of The Gamble Brothers Band at the YOUNG AVENUE DELI (2119 Young Avenue, 278-0034). There’s a $15 cover.

RALEIGH/ BARTLETT

Spending New Year’s Eve in rockin’ Raleigh? Head to the BEL AIR CLUB (6195 Macon Rd., 388-1474) for Just In Time. It’s $25 for couples, $15 for singles. At FLASHBACKS (5709 Raleigh-LaGrange, 383-7330), party with Twin Soul. But if it’s ’80s hair metal you’re looking for, you can’t go wrong with THE STAGE STOP (2951 Cela, 382-1577) where Lord Tracy will be playing a reunion show at 9 p.m.

UNIVERSITY OF MEMPHIS

Swelter is playing the HIGHLAND CUE (525 S. Highland, 327-9630). Just down the road at MO’s MEMPHIS ORIGINALS (3521 Walker Ave., 413-1315), DJ Walt Bazner will be spinning American favorites. The $10 advance ticket price or the $12 charge at the door also includes any sandwich on the menu, hot wings, and pizza. And of course, there’s always a big celebration to ring in the new year at NEWBY’S (539 S. Highland, 452-8408). This 28th annual event features music from Delta Grass, DayBreakDown, and Minivan Blues Band for a $7 cover. Parties of four or more can reserve tables for $10 per person, and there will be a balloon drop and champagne toast at midnight.

TUNICA

Wouldn’t it be grand to start off 2005 with lots of cash? Start working those slot machines and you just might get lucky. But don’t gamble too hard. Take a break and check out local rockabilly kings The Dempseys at GRAND CASINO (1-800-WIN-4-WIN). Or if party bands are more your style, Venus Mission is playing at the HORSESHOE CASINO (1-800-303-SHOE).

AND MORE

Don’t miss the AXA LIBERTY BOWL CLASSIC at LIBERTY BOWL STADIUM (795-9095) as Boise State battles Louisville. Kick-off starts at 2:30 p.m. Not a sports fan? The South Main Art Trolley Tour will have a special New Year’s “Champagne on South Main” tour from 6 to 9 p.m. (578-7262). Ask the trolley driver to let you out at THE TENNESSEE BREWERY (477 Tennessee Street) for the Memphis Heritage Benefit party from 8 p.m. to 1 a.m. Elmo & The Shades are playing. Cover is $25. Mystery fans should check out the Death Du Jour Mystery Dinner Theater at the SPAGHETTI WAREHOUSE (40 West Huling, 521-0907) at 7 p.m. You can volunteer to be a suspect or a detective. Tickets are $35 per person, and the price includes dinner. •

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Food & Wine Food & Drink

Tiny bubbles

The common term in our vernacular is champagne, but the French get a little pissy about us genericizing their name like Kleenex. Spanish speakers call them cavas, the Italians call them spumante, the French outside of the Champagne region call them crémant, so let’s just stick with calling them sparkling wines.

No matter what country they hail from, the quality of sparkling wines is rising, and it’s now hard to argue that the “real French thing” is the best for the money. With your wallet in mind, I’ve assembled a motley crew of labels under $30 per bottle, most under $20. Cheers and Happy New Year.

Barefoot Cellars Chardonnay Champagne Extra Dry Apricots and raspberry flavors make this inexpensive California bubbly taste like fruit cocktail without the heavy syrup. Great balance of sugar that will please most palates. $8.

Grandin Brut Loire Valley From another great region for sparkling wines in France the Loire Valley. Full-bodied that smacks of smooth almond butter. If you like them less tart, this one’s for you. Amazing value. $10.

Lindauer Brut New Zealand Damn, those Kiwis can make fantastic wine. Just as good as the French, at one-third the price. This is the best deal out there for dry sparkling wines this year. Very dry with firm acids, citrus, and a gorgeous creamy mouth-feel. $12.

Argyle 1999 Brut Willamette Valley From Oregon comes a refreshingly citrus, toasty, minerally sparkling wine. Has some great oomph to it and finishes clean. $14.

Codorníu Pinot Noir Brut Cava This pink Spanish sparkler bears the earthiness of a pinot noir, mixed with a crisp, tart strawberry. Very light-bodied and easy to drink. $14.

Jean Baptiste Adam Crémant d’Alsace Brut This French sparkling wine comes from the Alsace region, making it a bargain. Toasty citrus, with plenty of fizz. $18.

Mumm Napa Cuvée ‘M’ For the sweeter sparkling-wine fans out there, here comes a doozy. Rich and fruity with strawberries and peaches. Hints of vanilla and caramel as well. $18.

Prestige Mumm Cuvée Napa Valley Clean and spicy, smelling coolly like wet slate. Citrus and mineral define the flavor. $18.

Roederer Estate Brut Anderson Valley From California. Full of toasty yeast, lemon, and green apple. $20.

Mumm Cuvée Napa Blanc de Noirs Brut Zesty and tangy sparkling wine with fresh strawberries coming to the party. Crisp and light. $22.

Duval Leroy Brut Champagne A French, full-bodied, tangerine-y, citrus number. Great deal. Yeasty and floral too. $26.

Oudinot Cuvée Brut Refreshing raspberry with loads of action on the tongue. Kick-ass fruity finish. Quite yummy. $29. •