Mysteries Abysmal

Wilkommen SMB von Portland

NB: Snarkily super critic Stephen Marc Beaudoin of From Every Corner fame is swapping blogs with me for a day or two. He's in town visiting so thought it'd be fun for you all to read a left-coaster's stream-of-conscious mutterings as he galavants around our wholesome but urbane town. You're up Stephen...

How do you shave a few bucks off Chicago cab fare? Serenade an Eritrean cabby with some Bob Marley.This I learned around ten o’clock, en route to Boys Town antics, on my second night here in Chicago with BM (He stayed behind at a party in Logan Sq).

In case you missed it, I’m up in the City of Broad Shoulders this weekend as a visitor from the City of Roses (that’s Portland,Oregon, btw), where I’m a hyperactive creative type who yokes together work as a musician, writer and “person of the theatre.” I met Mr. Manning last fall during our time together in the NEA/Columbia Institute for classical music criticism and was instantly smitten (who isn’t, right?). So here I am, latte at close reach (at the, uh, “Maui Wowi” coffee shop in BBM’s ‘hood, Jimmy Buffett on endless maddening loop), a little bruised and battered from a big night out but ready for another round.

Today’s agenda: a 3 pm choral concert at Rockefeller Chapel, quick change and dinner, John Adams’ new “Flowering Tree” at Chicago Opera Theater, parties, drinks, parties, drinks, you get the idea.

Gotta say I’m totes crushing on you, Chicago. Great urban design, stunning architecture, choice culture, good looking dudes. More soon from the front lines. --Stephen Marc Beaudoin

Blow wind, blow

I thought I'd let daddio take up residency on this blog for a few days. He requires no introduction, except for the fact he forced Bergman's Persona on us as kids (Though not the naughty parts). Pretentious ass. ;)

It was beautiful in Lansing today, and I found myself daydreaming at work of the place I long to be when the weather is nice - Detroit. Bryant and his sister Lindsay grew up in something like the Addam's family, and while most Lansing-ites can't wait to hit the road for the beaches on Lake Michigan or the northern lakes, our family was more likely to spread a picnic blanket in the park in front of the grand train station in Detroit. The one that's been empty for 20 years and whose windows are smashed out. The park in front is a small diamond and there's one bench in each of the 4 corners, but Detroiters are fond of parks and every afternoon the benches are occupied by citizens enjoying unidentified refreshments in miniature picnic baskets that look like brown paper bags.

Despite the snotty comments above, fact is we do like Detroit, and wish it didn't suffer so much. It's not like Chicago in which you can walk for miles around downtown and Lincoln Park without seeing blight. If you find yourself in a nice part of Detroit, it's probably an isolated "green zone" of a few square blocks, and you want to have safe transportation to get to the next "zone". But if you like American music of the last 50 years, how can you not root for Detroit? There's a working class sort I always liked that Michigan's cities seemed to have quite a few of. I recall one in the movie 'Roger and Me' by Michael Moore, which of course takes place in Flint, or Detroit, Jr. The guy being interviewed had just been laid off at GM and talked about driving home after the fact. "Wouldn't it Be Nice" by the Beach Boys was on the radio and he notes that ordinarily he would have been so happy to hear that song, but he was crying too hard this time to enjoy it. And what struck me is that he liked the Beach Boys, and I like a guy that the blue collar stereotype won't stick to. Like you wouldn't expect a guy who finished college to end so many sentences with prepositions.

So I will finish with a plug for blightbusters.org so you can see that Detroiters care and have pride. If I'm allowed back I will tell you all I know about Brahms' 1st symphony. --Ab Manning

Overheard in Lansing

Group of college kids behind me at Biggby, commenting briefly on the piped-in music. 

Girl: I do like classical and I have a Vivaldi CD I listen to. 

A dude: It's cool, but I'm more into jazz and especially older blues--like early Eric Clapton. 

Note

We've begun to spruce up our radio show playlists with some added dialogue. 

Of graveyard shifts

Gerry and I resume our Cyber Classical radio program this Sunday evening from 9pm -12a (10p-1am EST).  We enter into our third year of doing the show together.  I do believe that's longer than Chevy Chase's talk show and the Dana Carvey Show...combined.  Won't you keep us company?

First snowfall

Here is Chicago at its most beautiful.  The "Doggie Diner" snap is a favorite because that little shack is home to the greasiest goods you'll find in the Windy City.  Even though the service is terrible, I go out of my way to visit them a couple times a year. It sits awkwardly among the multi-million dollar town homes in the heart of trendy Lincoln Park, and I hope it stays around forever.      

26 is Legend

The Messiah weighs in on the unfortunate demographic shift of Lincoln Park, as only the Messiah can:  "That was always my favorite part of Chicago on the North Side there.  I guess it's very common in cities for these once wonderful neighborhoods to be transformed into Lansing for twerps.  I'm sorry you are dealing with that now.  It sounds creepy."

(Previous posts on 26: here, here, and here.)

*Super special thanks to Rodney Jewett for supplying me this ultra-rare high school photo of the great musician.

Mid Autumn in Chicago

North Pond in Lincoln Park

Lads playing American footie

Outside my front door on Diversey

Oops, wrong town --there's a little New York residue left on my camera. (Elizabeth Brixey of the Columbia Missourian and Michael Morain of the Des Moines Register.) 

Hollow weenie

When I was a kid, one event that traumatized me to no end was the bogus rumor that a ghost had been caught on camera during the filming of Three Men and a Baby. I don't think I slept soundly for five years. I remember lying in bed trying my best not to let the image pop into my head. "Think of Cecil Fielder," I'd tell myself.  "Alan Trammell turning a double play -- Alan Trammell turning a double play." Yet those little strategies never really worked. It's amusing to think it wasn't Freddy that kept me awake, or Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers. Or even the Wicked Witch. No, it was a cardboard cutout of Ted f*&%$ Danson. 

Happy Halloween

Grace Kelley

Margaret Kelley, the NEA's program assistant, provided thankless support during our 11 day stay in New York. Bravo to her!  She also keeps a beautiful blog that posts way more photos and insight into the 'tute than I have given y'all so far. As is the case with good-looks and intelligence, I was naturally a little shy around her.  Then I opened up a bit, and I now feel lucky to have met her.  As she noted in her journal after observing a homeless preacherman on the subway, I can say we all want to similarly make the journey "from crack to Christ!"