Month: January 2009

Categories
News The Fly-By

Fly on the Wall

Ribbed for Pleasure

File under “Corrections & Amplifications.” Last week, Fly on the Wall reported, somewhat fallaciously, that Dale Earnhardt Jr. behaved more like a professional wrestler than a racing champion when Memphis Motorsports Park offered to provide the popular speedster with a lifetime supply of his favorite Rendezvous ribs if he’d come to town for one little race. It sounded like a delicious offer made in good faith and fun, but the source material quoted Earnhardt describing the offer as “some ridiculous deal … to try to get people to buy tickets. “I don’t want to sound like a jerk,” he said, sounding more like a heel than the good guy he’s known to play.

As it turns out, there was a bit of missing context. A source close to the ‘cue-related kerfuffle has since explained that Earnhardt, who rhapsodized about his love for Memphis barbecue on a recent episode of MTV’s Cribs, might not have been so surly if our local raceway had actually offered a lifetime supply of the Rendezvous signature char-grilled racks, which are his favorite. Instead, he was offered some other brand of ribs which may have been perfectly delicious but weren’t Earnhardt’s stated rib of choice.

Although he was merely exercising his God-given right to stand up for the ‘cue he loves, Earnhardt did come off as something of a jerk. But our kind of jerk. The Fly Team is sorry we ever doubted him.

Shooting Birdies

The Associated Press knows as little about Broadway musicals as it does about Memphis music icons. According to the AP, “the swivel-hipped Conrad Birdie is coming back to Broadway” when New York’s Roundabout Theatre presents a revival of Bye Bye Birdie, “the musical tale of an Elvis Presley-inspired rock-and-roll star and his effect on the teenagers in one small Ohio town.” Conrad Birdie is actually based on Conway Twitty, whose overt sexuality made Elvis seem like the very picture of decorum and civility.

Categories
News The Fly-By

Taking the Plunge

Despite much advice to the contrary, I have jumped in the Mississippi River. In the middle of winter.

And I’m not the only one.

For the past three years, people have been jumping in the Mississippi as part of the Polar Bear Plunge. The event, which is in its 10th year in Memphis, benefits the Special Olympics.

“It’s not like a run, or a golf tournament, or a gala,” says Lisa Taylor, area director of Special Olympics Greater Memphis. “It’s just kind of a wacky event. You’re running into the water and running out. People think it’s really neat.”

When the Polar Bear Plunge began, it was held at Shelby Farms’ Patriot Lake, but a few years ago, organizers decided to make the event a little larger, add a chili cook-off, and move it to Mud Island.

“I did it one year at Patriot Lake. I got in to about my knees and it was cold,” Taylor says.

About 150 people took the plunge last year, and Taylor is hoping for about 200 at this year’s event on February 7th. But participation will probably depend on the weather that day. Participants can wear just about whatever they want, but they can’t wear wet suits.

“Last year, the weather ended up being beautiful. It was in the 60s — the water was in the 20s — but it was really nice,” Taylor says.

I participated in the Polar Bear Plunge two years ago on a day when the thermometer registered in the 30s. Armed with extra towels, multiple layers of clothing, and a few of my colleagues — I thought it would be a fun bonding experience — we braved the freezing cold to run down the Mud Island boat dock, jump into the harbor, and then run out again.

The whole thing took perhaps 17 seconds, if that, but it was an adrenaline-fueled 17 seconds.

Oh, sure, before we plunged, there were mentions of us pulling a Jeff Buckley and cautions about the pollution, but it was worth it. (I am not entirely sure, however, that all my colleagues would agree.)

“A lot of people do it for the cause,” Taylor says, “but a lot do it because it’s something different. How many people can say, I jumped in the Mississippi River?”

Well, I can say it, and I can also say that I did it completely wrong.

Taylor also has some tips for potential plungers, er, jumpers: Make sure you bring a change of clothes and a towel. And you have to wear shoes. (C’mon, people, we’re talking about the Mississippi River here. Do you really want to brave it without footwear?)

She also advises that jumpers dress in their wackiest costumes (there’s a prize). And try the chili.

You want to know my advice? Layers are not your friend.

When I jumped, I wore a bathing suit layered with tights, yoga pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt and a short-sleeved Flyer T-shirt (which I ended up giving to a dedicated reader).

Sure, it kept me warm(ish) while we were waiting on the dock, teeth chattering, but the second we jumped in the water, ice needles started stinging every single inch of my body that had the misfortune to be in the water.

And when I jumped back out of the water, my many layers — especially the tights — brought those ice needles back on dry land with me.

You know how chilly it is when you get out of a pool in 80-degree weather? Multiply that by 1,000.

A friend of mine wore shorts to the plunge and before we jumped, I thought he was crazy. Afterward, though, I saw the brilliance in his plan. When he jumped out, he didn’t have cold, wet layers clinging to him.

Here is the strange thing: Once I was out of the water, out of those horrid tights and wrapped in my towel, I suddenly didn’t feel cold anymore. Maybe I had been so cold that, relatively, being less cold felt warm. Who knows?

My other piece of advice: Bring friends, the more the better. You’re going to want a group of friends to jump with, people you can commiserate and be nervous with. (I remember one person in my group hoping she wouldn’t slip and fall as she ran down the boat dock in her bikini.)

Most importantly, you’re also going to want to bring friends who aren’t taking the plunge. These people can stand on the dock and hold up a warm towel for you to run into. Trust me on this.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

Yes, They Did

CREDIT: by Justin Fox Burks

For Abram Desrosier, January 20th means more than the inauguration of a new president.

Three years ago to the day, he opened the Flyer Saucer in Cordova, where he worked as the restaurant’s manager. Last Tuesday, while the Obamas were celebrating in Washington, D.C., Desrosier threw open the doors of The Silly Goose, the new downtown lounge he owns and operates with Daniel Masters.

“I didn’t realize the coincidence at first,” Desrosier said. “The day was so crazy. We got our liquor license at 3:30 in the afternoon, and we were open by 8.”

Compliant vendors, an enthusiastic staff, and a weekend run to Nashville to push along licensing helped launch the Manhattan-style lounge without a hitch. “We were hoping for a quiet first night, but within 45 minutes, we were packed,” Desrosier said.

Downtowners have been keeping an eye on the Silly Goose, named after a childhood story created by Masters’ grandfather. Previously occupied by the martini bar Swig, the location on the ground floor of the Peabody Place office tower has been hidden behind covered windows for weeks.

“Blogger Paul Ryburn described it best,” Masters said, laughing. “We’ve de-Swigified the place. We’ve gone in an entirely different direction.”

Working since late September, the partners transformed the space with rich red walls, brocade sofas, and original artwork.

“Our bartenders are still working on our signature cocktails, but we have some favorites already,” Masters said, citing Jack Daniel’s shaken with muddled rosemary and a dash of lemon, along with specialty aperitifs, bottled beers, and PBR on tap.

For now, the Silly Goose will be open from 4 p.m. to 3 a.m., serving a menu of appetizers (baked ravioli, hummus, spinach dip), soups (chili, potato with bacon), salads (Caesar, house, chef), flatbreads (pesto chicken, pepperoni, build your own), and paninis (pastrami melt, Black Forest ham, Italiano).

“In a few weeks, we’ll be open for lunch,” Masters said. “And eventually, we would like to do delivery.”

The Silly Goose, 100 Peabody Place (435-6915)

In a hurry for lunch but still hungry for a meal that is delicious and affordable? Then head to Automatic Slim’s for chef Michael Patrick‘s new midday menu.

“The food is out within 15 minutes,” said Jay Uiberall, one of the operators who purchased the restaurant from Karen Carrier last fall. “We wanted customers to be able to get back to work within an hour.”

A handful of the restaurant’s signature items are still on the menu, but the majority of selections are new, including ahi tuna salad and open-faced sandwiches (roast beef or turkey) on grilled sourdough.

All lunch selections cost $10 or less, a price point also reflected in the restaurant’s new brunch menu served on Sundays from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. “Everyone loves the chocolate chip pancakes and the Creole eggs Benedict,” Uiberall said.

No wonder. The pancakes (three on a plate) are topped with orange honey butter. And the poached eggs? They are served over fried green tomatoes and drizzled with Creole hollandaise sauce.

Look for more developments at the downtown restaurant, including a tweaked dinner menu in February, a Valentine’s Day special for two, and live music on Friday nights beginning in March.

Automatic Slim’s, 83 S. Second,

automaticslimsmemphis.com (525-7948)

Now that your mouth is watering, learn how to finesse your own kitchen with the “Cooking at the Garden” series from continuing education at the University of Memphis. The classes are offered on Sunday afternoons, beginning with “Knife Skills: Slicing and Dicing” on February 1st.

On March 1st is a class on vegetarian cooking taught by Flyer photographer Justin Fox Burks. His class will feature cooking fundamentals for vegetarians as well as recipes from his popular blog, thechubbyyvegetarian.com. “We’ll also be doing a lot of eating,” Burks said. “For a class that costs $49, people need to leave with knowledge and a full belly.”

Rounding out the series will be a class on sushi conducted by Umai’s Ken Lumpkin on April 5th and a May 3rd class on cheese making (fresh mozzarella and ricotta!) taught by local-foods advocate Melissa Petersen.

Professional and Continuing Education at The University of Memphis, umce.Memphis.edu (678-6000)

Categories
News The Fly-By

What They Said

CREDIT: by Greg Cravens

About “Obama’s Day in the Sun” by Jackson Baker, concerning the new president’s inauguration:

“The comments here have demonstrated why Memphis is … well, Memphis. Every single subject — and we’re talking about anything — is reduced to race. Black/white. It is the reason this city will never be great. While the rest of the country is moving on and is basically striving to become post-racial, we are still mired in white vs. black, Civil War politics. No wonder our nickname is Funky Town. Grow up, people. If this place cannot get past skin color, we will eventually dry up and die.” — rantboy

About “Shades of Gray” by Chris Davis, concerning the coal-ash spill in East Tennessee:

“The water windmills disrupt the twiddle fish’s natural mating habitat. Thus in turn the goople fish in the Delta doesn’t have the twiddle fish’s offspring to feed on. So the goople fish dies off and we all know, as the goople fish goes, we all go.” — 38103

About “Bush Out, Obama In:
Hallelujah!” by Marty Aussenberg:

“Nice job, Gadfly, great observations. You are right, many out there will actually look for Obama to walk on water and rather quickly. Our country has dug itself a huge hole to climb out of and it’s going to take quite a bit of time to right the ills of Bush’s legacy (whether it’s his fault or not). So, for now, patience, good people, patience.” — TruthbKnown

Comment of the Week:

About “Obama’s Day in the Sun” by Jackson Baker:

“Q: How many Harvard grads does it take to screw up the oath? A: At least two.”

— tomguleff

Categories
Music Music Features

AC/DC’s Big Score

When I was 9 years old, AC/DC’s Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap (which had been released seven years earlier, in 1976) caused much trauma and fascination when my eyes settled on its cover art. The epitome of subtle menace, it shows normal people crowding a motel parking lot, eyes obscured by black “porn-tangles.” Then I came across the quartet’s 1978 live album, If You Want Blood, You’ve Got It, its cover photo depicting guitarist Angus Young self-impaled on the neck of his Gibson SG. After one listen, I was convinced that AC/DC’s guitarist had committed suicide onstage as the last note was struck.

Fast forward to October 2008, when AC/DC managed the improbable: to once again release an album that scared the hell out of me. This time, the fear had nothing to do with lyrics, sound, or cover art. The album is Black Ice, big news only to those who awoke from a six-month coma yesterday. You probably know about the album in large part because of its peculiar promotional campaign.

The arrival of a new AC/DC album has long been an unremarkable event. But the arrival of this 15th studio album by the band evoked a terrifying future world that wouldn’t be out of place in a Harlan Ellison or Philip K. Dick story. During the last months of 2008, the music industry, the mainstream media, and the music-buying public joined forces. To a distant society in another part of the world, it might have looked like Americans were buying one album from one retailer for fear of electrocution by government-mandated shock-collars. Take out the shock-collar part, and you’re getting warm.

In June 2008, it was announced that Walmart would have stateside exclusivity with the release of the as-yet-untitled album. This move placed AC/DC in the company of Garth Brooks, the Eagles, and Journey.

AC/DC, the band that once mastered the ham-fisted single/double entendre in the form of such playground naughtiness as “Big Balls,” “Girl’s Got Rhythm (The Backseat Rhythm),” “Whole Lotta Rosie,” “Love at First Feel,” and “The Jack”?

AC/DC, the band with a 1979 hit song and album titled “Highway to Hell” (with guitarist Young donning prosthetic devil horns on the album cover, no less)?

AC/DC, the band that sang about “Hell’s Bells” in the literal rather than exclamatory sense?

This is all worth a mild chuckle when considering what’s been banned from Walmart to date: Maxim, FHM, and Stuff magazines were banned forever — deemed “too racy.” Individual issues of Rolling Stone, Cosmopolitan, Sports Illustrated, and Vibe have been pulled due to certain cover images. Usually, all it takes is the threat of banishment to make an artist censor an album for Walmart. Nirvana famously changed the line “rape me” to “waif me” so that the largest music retailer in the world would allow In Utero on the shelves. John Mellencamp okayed the airbrushing of the angel and devil imagery from his 1983 album Uh-Huh, and Walmart will not carry any title stickered with the “Parental Advisory” warning.

Even more recent AC/DC titles would attract scrutiny. The second single released from the Rick Rubin-produced Ballbreaker (1995) was a song called “Cover You in Oil.” Not an ode to Jiffy Lube’s “Early Bird Special,” the track is four-and-a-half minutes of vocalist Brian Johnson expounding upon the stomach-emptying implication of the title.

Conversely, AC/DC is a band peopled with old guys who continue to make a reasonable facsimile of the ’75–’83 heyday that forever established the quartet. Many AC/DC fans have a spouse, two too many kids, a flag waving in the yard, and a bank preparing to foreclose on a cramped zero lot-line that “seemed like a good idea six years ago, before the check-cashing places and Dollar Generals started popping up.” And this illustrates the main reason why Walmart is willing to overlook whatever past associations AC/DC may have with unsavory subjects: a focus on the bottom line.

And focus Walmart did.

Assaulting the public with a blunt-force media campaign rivaling what CNN affords a natural disaster or terrorist attack, the tag team of Walmart, Columbia Records, and MTV made sure no household remained unaware of Black Ice‘s arrival. In September, an “AC/DC” channel was debuted by both Sirius and XM. The official release week of October 20th saw stores in Los Angeles, New York, and Chicago morphing into “Rock Again AC/DC Stores” and “AC/DC Rock Band Stores” (to capitalize on the band’s own version of the Rock Band video game). Spacious center sections of each store were dedicated to Black Ice, the album played loudly over a P.A. system, and special “Black Ice” trucks peddled the album as it blasted from mounted loudspeakers.

The sheer capacity of this promotional campaign was a dangerous crapshoot in this limping economy, one that could just as easily have taken a bite out of the Columbia/Walmart backside.

In the U.S., Black Ice sold almost 200,000 copies on October 20th alone. Five days later, the album had shipped over 5 million copies worldwide and shattered the record books by debuting at #1 in a whopping 29 countries, making it the biggest debut week ever by a hard-rock band since the introduction of the Nielsen SoundScan tracking system in 1991. In the U.K., Black Ice‘s registered an approximate 777 percent increase over the last AC/DC album (Stiff Upper Lip) in terms of first-day sales. As of this writing, Black Ice has sold 6 million copies worldwide.

AC/DC

Friday, January 30th

FedExForum

7:30 p.m.; tickets $64.50 and $89.50

Categories
News

With the Flow

CREDIT: by Paul Gerald

A couple years ago, in what might have been my own version of the midlife crisis, I made a list of things I wanted to do while I still could. Among the items was to see a presidential inauguration. And on the evening of November 4th, while watching Barack Obama’s acceptance speech, I knew it had to be this inauguration. Once that thought was in my head, I didn’t really have a choice. My sister lives in the D.C. area, and I had frequent-flier miles.

So here, from the perspective of one little drop in the sea of humanity, is a description of Washington, D.C., on January 20th:

I was up at 6 a.m. and out the door at 7, like a springlet on a hillside miles from the ocean. On the street I joined a larger flow, then a wall of people on the train. I wedged into a person-sized hole, and at each station we said we’d never be able to make room for any of the platform throng. Once, somebody cracked us up with a “Yes we can!”

Downtown was a river of people. We filled six-lane avenues and poured down sidewalks. Crossing the street was like swimming a river, and if you wanted to take a picture or stop for any reason, you had to get in the leeway of a street sign or vendor truck.

The energy was joyful, confident, even giddy. We were doing the “Gimme an O … gimme a B” and then all yelling together, “OBAMA!” We were waving flags, sporting glitter, and strutting our collective stuff.

I made for the hill at the Washington Monument to have a look. Between there and the Capitol building, which is about a mile and a half away, was nothing but people. It was a human landscape. Our springs and creeks and rivers had formed a sea.

Like water seeking to get closer, we backed up against tight spots and street crossings, eddied behind buildings, and streamed into open areas. The Mall is a mile or more long, fully 200 yards wide, and all of that was filled with people.

I headed back to the monument, high ground. By 11 a.m., it was so crowded I couldn’t change places. Whenever I looked around, I saw others doing the same, all with expressions of pure, happy awe. Almost 2 million human beings, all in one place for the same reason!

Up on the Jumbotrons, as the ceremony got started, we saw various political celebs, who got various responses. Clinton, Carter, Gore, Powell, and Kerry: big cheers. Cheney got “Dr. Strangelove” jokes for being in a wheelchair.

Bush got the biggest boos, loud enough to be heard on TV. When he was officially introduced, the crowd, by now a single living thing, serenaded him with “Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, Goodbye!” A proud American moment, I say.

The ceremony was something of a blur. I was a long way from a Jumbotron, with a delay of a couple of seconds between the video and the audio — and probably five seconds between speakers talking and us hearing it. Aretha Franklin was amazing, her voice careening all over the landscape.

When it came time for Obama, some 500,000 cameras were hoisted into the air. The crowd was poised like a slingshot, waiting for “So help me God,” and when he said that, the cheer started down by the Capitol and came to us like a wave, and it swept us into pandemonium. Everyone was hopping and clapping and waving flags, and I looked out towards the mall and saw all those thousands and thousands of flags, whipping back and forth.

Afterward, the crowd broke up in all directions, some lingering like puddles in the dusty, windswept, completely trashed mall. From that point on, it was all about gathering souvenirs and getting home. Up in the neighborhoods, stragglers were showing signs of fatigue, and the once-mighty crowd was thinning back into streams.

I was exhausted but glad and proud to be among millions of Americans cheering the new and jeering the old. I felt a genuine national pride that day, and I was part of one of the greatest gatherings in the history of our country. That doesn’t make me special or accomplished, just lucky. And no matter what happens the next four years, at least we can all say we remember when President Obama gathered us together and said, “Let’s do better.”

Categories
News

Personal Space

CREDIT: by Bianca Phillips

I have personal-space issues. I don’t like hugs. I don’t like handshakes. And I would never in a million years voluntarily sign up for a massage.

But, like Barack Obama says, it’s time for a change. I’d like to make 2009 the year of banishing senseless phobias. First up: my fear of being touched by strangers. Thankfully, the folks at Calming Influence, a Zen-like massage salon on Cooper, offer plenty of options for massage newbies and veterans alike.

For starters, the dimly lit massage rooms at Calming Influence feel like a guest room in someone’s old Midtown home. I’d expected clinical rooms with unflattering fluorescent lighting, but the sage-green walls, wooden floors, and beige paper lanterns immediately put me at ease.

“This place has a nice vibe to it,” says owner and massage therapist Gene Elliott. “We tried to create a place that wasn’t a high-end hoity-toity spa but not too airy-fairy New Age either. Our place is really grounded and comfortable.”

Like many massage salons, Calming Influence offers a menu of services — massage therapy, detoxifying face masks, salt glows, paraffin dips, and aromatherapy. The salon also offers couples massage.

“We put two tables in one room so people can enjoy a massage together,” Elliott says. “We get couples celebrating anniversaries or women on girls’ night out. People have a lot of fun with it. They either zone out or howl with laughter, because it’s so much fun.”

Since I’m traveling solo, Elliott suggests I try the one-hour, basic, full-body massage. The thought of lying still and being touched for a whole 60 minutes sends me into panic mode, and I talk him down to a half-hour spot-work massage.

“I used to have some touch issues too. I was uncomfortable hugging people,” Elliott tells me. “But massage really helped me break out of those boundaries. It drives my family crazy, because now I’m a huggy person.”

Perhaps this massage will make me a huggy person too, I think, as Elliott introduces me to my massage therapist, Tammy Braithwaite.

In a gentle tone, Braithwaite tells me I can leave on as many clothes as I want. She leaves the room so I can undress, and since I’m a modest gal, I opt not to remove my unmentionables.

As I lay face down on the massage table, most of my body is covered with a soft white sheet. I hear Braithwaite reenter the room, and I’m suddenly aware of the 28 years of tension built up in my neck and shoulders.

She rubs oil onto my upper back, and I explain that I’m not only new to the massage thing but actually a little nervous. Any tension is exaggerated by the fact that a stranger is touching me.

But Braithwaite cuts to the chase and starts massaging my taut muscles with the firmness of a pro wrestler, and it’s not a bad feeling. As she describes to me, her clients often classify the firm pressing of their muscles as a “a good hurt.”

She manipulates her hands in various ways to work out my knotted muscles, and midway through my 30-minute session, my muscles begin to relax. I zone out and eventually lose track of time. Suddenly Braithwaite stops and says, “You can come out when you’re ready.” She leaves the room.

What? It’s over already? I lift my head and realize I’m in a bit of a daze. It’s the same pleasurable feeling I’d get from taking painkillers, but it’s a natural high without icky side effects.

When I drift back to reality, I realize massage isn’t such a bad thing after all. I wouldn’t advise my friends to start hugging me just yet though. I’ll need a few more massages before I reach the huggy stage. ■

Calming Influence, 74 N. Cooper
(276-9423)

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

What a Pair

CREDIT: Tom Schmucker | dreamstime.com

There are many classic food and wine pairings that work very well because they’ve been perfected over generations. But classics always can be more fun when they are played with a little bit.

Take steak and red wine, for example. Most of us think of New York strip or rib-eye when it comes to steak, and usually we reach for a Cabernet Sauvignon to pair along with it. But the cow is a big animal — it has plenty of other cuts to offer.

For a classically delicious pairing with a little twist, visit the Majestic Grille (145 S. Main, 522-8555) and try their Hangar steak with Laurel Glen’s Terra Rosa Malbec from Argentina. This particular cut of beef is a bit more “meaty” with a bolder beef flavor and more toothsome texture than many other cuts. Those factors match it well with the dark, deep flavors of black plum and full texture of the Malbec grape. Argentineans are fanatical about their beef and Malbec. One taste of this pairing will make anyone understand why.

Fish and white wine — that seems to be a mantra that is uttered over and over again in restaurants and in the seafood aisles of local groceries. However, it’s not as easy as it sounds. The ocean is vast and filled with a multitude of species of fish and shellfish. So where to start when pairing fish and wine?

Think of the strongest flavors on the plate and the weight and texture of the fish itself. At Restaurant Iris (2146 Monroe, 590-2828), the scallops with house-made gnocchi, fennel and vermouth cream, and citrus can be a deliciously interesting dish to pair. The fennel and vermouth add bittersweet tones, the citrus brings acid, and the scallops and gnocchi are lush and rich without being heavy. For this dish, try Chateau Vessiere, a blend of the grapes Roussanne and Grenache Blanc. Both grapes bring a rich texture without being overly heavy, much like the texture of the scallops and gnocchi. The wine’s acidity is bright enough to match the citrus and cut through the cream.

One of the best ways to end a meal is with a platter of cheeses and a good wine. Bari Ristorante e Enoteca (22 S. Cooper, 722-2244) has one of the best cheese selections in Memphis. To really experience what they have to offer, order a handful of cheeses and a good bottle of red that will pair across the spectrum of this dairy wonderland.

The cheeses that shouldn’t be missed are Gorgonzola Cremificato (a soft delicate blue), Tallegio (creamy, bittersweet, and pungently aromatic), Pecorino Sottoilnoce (available only twice a year, wrapped in walnut leaves, grassy and nutty), and Bianco Sottobosco (semi-soft, rich, and laced with black truffles). This varied and unique selection of cheeses needs an equally interesting wine.

I know many wine drinkers are still hesitant to explore dessert wines. One of the best ways to break through that doubt is to sample a good version alongside such varied styles of cheeses. One of the most famous and hallowed dessert wines is Italy’s Vin Santo, which means “holy wine.” The nutty, honeyed, floral, succulent richness of Fattoria di Felsina Vin Santo carries across the pungency of the Gorgonzola and Tallegio as well as the haunting earthiness of the Sottobosco.

Categories
Flyer Flashback News

Flyer Flashback

At the end of January 1993, the nation was welcoming a bright young man to Washington as the new president of the United States. And back in Memphis, the most powerful and controversial politician in town was the target of federal prosecutors.

This is how Flyer reporters covered the inauguration of President Bill Clinton and the jury selection process in the trial of U.S. representative Harold Ford Sr.:

“One quarter of a million people, an apparent record number, would gather out of doors on an unexpectedly warmish day, on and around the U.S. Capitol and its surrounding grounds, to see the 42nd president take the oath in the flesh.”

The inaugural bash was called “an American reunion” in a bid to symbolize “the spanning of ages, genders, tribes, and persuasions in our fractious, multicultural times.”

At the Washington Hilton, Clinton greeted a crowd of Tennesseans “and whatever fatigue had set in disappeared as the once-pilloried candidate, now an idol, paraded across the stage in the manner of his adopted alter ego, Elvis.”

In Memphis, Ford was about to go on trial for the second time, his first trial having ended in a mistrial due to jury tampering. The big controversy was over jury selection from a pool of West Tennesseans outside Shelby County.

“The potential jurors in Jackson have been equally exposed to the media and have developed equal, if not stronger, biases,” Ford said. “The issue is not that I am a U.S. congressman or that I am black. The issue is that no citizen of the United States should be denied his or her constitutional rights to be judged by a jury of his or her own peers.”

Ford’s protest was in vain, and the majority-white jury was chosen from outside Shelby County. Six weeks later, he was acquitted. — John Branston

Categories
Music Music Features

Goner Friends Rally for Auction, Benefit

Anna Ives, the adorable daughter of Goner Records co-owner Zac Ives and wife Amy, is a tough, energetic little girl. Just 4 years old, she has already endured two successful brain surgeries with grace and pluck.

Last week, Anna and her family (including 6-month-old brother Aron) decamped to Boston for a two-month stay in which Anna will receive special preventative treatment. To assist with the costs that come with relocation, missed work, and other expenses, Zac Ives’ Goner partner Eric Friedl and other local friends have banded together to raise money via an online auction and benefit concert.

“We knew that they were going through so much,” Friedl says. “We wanted to help how we could, to alleviate some of the financial stress.”

The medical ordeal began in 2007 when Anna, then 2, was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor, which was removed at Le Bonheur Children’s Medical Center, a surgery that received high-profile coverage in The Commercial Appeal as part of a series on Le Bonheur’s brain surgeons and that landed Anna in Washington as surely one of the most charming lobbyists the capital has ever seen.

Unfortunately, last October, tests found the tumor returning — smaller this time, but malignant — necessitating a second, also successful, surgery at Le Bonheur. Following the surgery, Anna was referred to the Francis H. Burr Proton Therapy Center at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston for radiation treatment aimed at reducing the risk of the tumor returning.

According to Friedl, the Ives family is settling in well and prepping for treatment, which will begin in early February. Meanwhile, friends are banding together back home to help them out.

The online auction, accessible at Goner-Records.com/Anna, is something of a free-for-all, with Goner Records operating as a middle man — collecting checks and alerting donors as to when and where to send their auction items.

“It depends a little bit on trust,” Friedl says, “but I think everyone wants to see this go well.”

The items include music-related items, event tickets, gift certificates, original artwork from local artists, and other services.

“A lot of people don’t have money, but they do have things, so this is a way they can contribute if they want to,” Friedl says. The online auction, which started January 26th, will run through February 2nd.

The benefit concert, set for Thursday, January 29th, at the Hi-Tone Café, emerged from a desire to find different ways to help.

“John Paul Keith was saying, ‘Hey I don’t have a lot to donate right now, but if there’s a benefit …,'” Friedl says about the origin of the show, which will pair roots-rocker Keith and his band The One Four Fives with Goner-connected artists Harlan T. Bobo and Jack O & the Tearjerkers.

“We put it together quickly,” Friedl says, “but it’s also in the middle of the auction, so it can steer people that way.”

The benefit will be novel for local club shows in that it will start early (doors open at 7 p.m., with music set to start at 8 p.m.), and bands will rotate mini-sets throughout the night. The idea is that fans interested in seeing a particular act won’t have to wait long to see them.

“This is my idea, and if it falls apart, it’s my fault,” Friedl says of the show’s format.

Admission to the show is $10, with all proceeds going to assist the Ives family. Full information on the auction and benefit concert, as well as a way to donate money directly, can be found at Goner-Records.com/Anna.