The Rake Magazine

Month: June 2007

  • New Pizza!

    basil.JPG

    I am PSYCHED about these guys landing in the Western Metro. I know they’ve been shopping spots in the Twin Cities for a while, but it looks like Minnetonka (Hwy 7/Shady Oak by Lunds) is the first lucky recipient of a HomeMade Pizza Co.

    You could just poo-poo it as another take-and-bake concept, but you would be a sad and hungry poo-pooer when you realized how cool these guys are. Never mind the props from Oprah and Brooke Shields, never mind that chef-on-the-scene Grant Achatz calls it a personal favorite, it’s really all about the ingredients, my friends.

    The guys behind HomeMade Pizza Co. have an idea that the ingredients should be the best available and all-natural and that the pizzas should be made from scratch. That means chopping fresh basil for your personal pie. Huh.

    Plus, they seem to have a knack for putting the freshness to work. The Georgia has Santa Fe chicken sausage, poblano peppers and ricotta cheese … the wild mushroom pizza is complemented with creamy Fontinella cheese and fresh thyme … and their signature sausage and onion utilizes all-natural Itaian sausage, carmelized onions, Asiago cheese and a hit of sage.

    Also check out their Cutie Pie Kit, in which you take home a box of fun for pizza making with the kids.

    They aren’t open yet, but they are hiring, which means it will be soon, very soon …..

  • Girl Power!

    ART
    Japanese Visual Culture: The Power of Girls’ Comics

    Anime.jpgShojo Manga! Girl Power! East and West is an internationally touring exhibition that celebrates the evolution of Japanese comics for girls from the postwar era to the present. Manja are Japanese comics. Sojo manga are Japanese comics for girls. These comics reflect the evolution of social roles for Japanese girls and women over the past 60 years. The show features over 200 works by 23 artist from the East who have contributed to shojo manga in Japan since World World II. But it doesn’t stop there. You’ll notice the word West in the title as well. The Twin Cities exhibition will also feature work from emerging and established manga artists in the West, including MCAD alumni. And as if this weren’t enough, the show will also include winning entries from a regional high school manga competition.

    9 a.m. to 8 p.m., Minneapolis College of Art and Design, 2501 Stevens Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-874-3700; free.

    MUSIC
    She’s Mighty Solid, but She Sure Ain’t Blonde

    johnette.jpgBest known as the lead singer and bassist of Concrete Blonde, Johnette Napolitano continues to haunt us with her sultry croon. Sexy as she is, this woman is no young chickadee. Well on her way to the big 5-0 (this year in fact), Napolitano has a strong history of success behind her. After years of lurking on the fringes of the Los Angeles punk and new wave scene, she got together with James Mankey to form the duo Dream 6, which later became Concrete Blonde, a name allegedly suggested by R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe to connote the band’s mix of hard and soft elements. After Concrete Blonde split in 1995, Napolitano continued her musical career with a couple short-lived projects (one of them with the late Marc Moreland of Wall of Voodoo), occasional Concrete Blonde reunion albums, and composing soundtracks for indie films such as Wicker Park and Underworld. Though her new solo album, Scarred, isn’t her first — she release two prior, largely improvised, mostly electronic albums — it is certainly the most provocative and defining project she has undertaken in years.

    7 p.m., Varsity Theater, 1308 4th St SE, Minneapolis; 612-604-0222; $15.

    More Indigenous Music

    Sarah copy.jpgIndigenous In Music is presenting another concert at the Fine Line this evening. Go check out a diverse sampling of indigenous music by Cochise Anderson & The Crossbloods, Bluedog, and Sarah Hindsley. You’ll get a little bit of spoken word, performance art, blues, rhythm and blues, folk, and hip-hop. And you won’t be disappointed in any of the above. This is the real thang, folks — music of the people in a myriad of forms. And you get to see the whole thing evolve right before your eyes.

    8 p.m., Fine Line Music Cafe, 318 1st Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-338-8100; free.

    Music al Aire Libre

    Christopher1.jpgWhile the acoustics are usually better indoors, you just can’t beat an outdoor concert — as long as the weather holds out. This evening offers several options for music in the park, so pick your poison — or your park. Christopher Lawrence serves up pop-rock R&B at Minnehaha Park. Hell, he even sings about I94 and the wind blowing through your hair. It doesn’t get much more outdoorsy than that. Let’s just hope there’s a good breeze blowing, and no rain. 7 p.m., Minnehaha Falls Pavilion, 4801 Minnehaha Ave. S.; 612-230-6400; free.

    Peter K & Con Brio serve up a modern groove of Latino, jazz, funk, and rock at Lake Harriet. The Latino edge gives this jazzy ensemble the perfect sound for an outdoor show. It’s down-right feel-good music. 7:30 p.m., Lake Harriet Band Shell, 43rd St. W. and E. Lake Harriet Parkway; 612-230-6475; free.

    And the South Side Big Band is playing at Centennial Park. I can only assume this will include at least a little bit of swing. 7 p.m., Centennial Lakes Park Maetzold Amphitheater , 7499 France Ave. S., Edina; 952-832-6789; free.

    THEATER & PERFORMANCE
    Tick, tick … BOOM!

    IMG_7757a-177x228.jpgYes, that’s the sound of your biological clock ticking — and I’m not just talking women here. We all know what it is to feel age setting upon us. And most of us know what it’s like to want to have done more. No, I’m not mixing up my tenses. I’m talking about the need to do something, be someone — the urge to achieve — and the frustration of time slipping by all the while. Author and composer Jonathan Larson struggled for years as a waiter at the Moondance Diner in New York City before his success with the Broadway show Rent. Truth be told, the version that is now known worldwide was not publicly performed until several months after Larson’s unexpected death in 1996, so he never got to see his masterpiece in full flight. In fact, Larson’s career was riddled with disappointments, fueling his 1991 musical, Tick, tick … BOOM! — an autobiographical tale of a young composer on the brink of turning 30 and falling into oblivion. His girlfriend wants to get married. His best friend is raking in the dough on Madison Avenue. And Jon is still waiting tables as he tries to write the great American musical. Yes, that’s right. Tick, tick … BOOM! takes us on Larson’s personal journey as an author and composer. It’s the behind the scenes tale, the making of…, the back story — and definitely a tale of its own. See it tonight, or Thursday through Sunday.

    7:30 p.m., Loring Playhouse, 1633 Hennepin Av. S., Minneapolis; 612-840-0189; $15 (senior/youth $12).

    ON THE NET
    Who Are We? — a video tale by Minnesotans

    We Minnesotans are a very dignified and loving people, a very handsome people, you might even say. We’re experts on matters of sex. Our local cuisine is awe-inspiring. We’re terribly articulate and deep and meaningful, asking ourselves such questions as: what would an orchid say to a star? Yes, we have an odd sense of humor, but those Hutchinson folks sure know how to have a good time. When it comes down to it, we’re just good people. We always help our fellow neighbors. And we love to share our talents, like stacking and un-stacking arms, and crossing the street. Wow! There are just so many great reasons to live in Minnesota! Hell, in Minnesota, we can even show you things a week before they happen (just look at the date).

    EXTRA
    Have you seen the MNSpeak LOLCats? Don’t miss these masterpieces!

    And on a less than local scale, if you chose not to waste your time with the MTV Movie Awards you might want to catch a few highlights. Sarah Silverman had a few funny jabs in her opening monologue — particularly a comment directed at actor Jack Nicholson — but her attack on Paris Hilton was a little on the harsh side. After all, the girl is going to jail today. Don’t miss Will Ferrell and Sacha Baron Cohen accepting their award for Best Kiss. It’s priceless. But that’s not all in this weekend’s man-on-man love arena (just trying to balance out a Girl Power! post a bit). Kudos to Enrique Iglesias for embracing his gay fans. Watch him serenade a love-struck fan in London this weekend.

  • The Strib's Pam Miller Pens a Note

    Without further comment … this from Pamela Miller, Star Tribune Guild officer and the paper’s Faith & Values reporter.

    “Brian’s coverage of the misery at the Strib has been accurate and intelligent. I appreciate that.

    “But I wonder if you, the blog- and media-reading public, really care what happens to a bunch of middle-class journalists who will probably land on their feet. The real tragedy is not for journalists, but for you citizen consumers of news, who now will find less of it, written more hurriedly by fewer people, in their local paper AND at that paper’s website.

    “Like most of my counterparts, I wrack my brain day and night for a way to save my beloved craft, and hope that we’re all wrong and that this terrible time is just a dip in, not the death throes of, mainstream journalism. I believe journalism won’t die, but just evolve somehow. But how, in a way that preserves accurate, cool-headed reporting?

    “Like Brandt, I am among the lucky ones at the Strib — the religion beat will survive, whether it’s covered by me or not. But I never forget that a few years ago, when the first symptoms of shrinkage appeared, an equally important beat, Science, was killed. And now I look around and see talented folks like Warren Wolfe scrambling for a gig after his growing-in-importance topical beat, Aging, is unplugged. And I look at Doug Grow, whose trademark hearty laugh sounds almost sad these days — here’s a guy who in the past would have had a retirement party that would have filled a stadium; now he tells me he’d rather we didn’t even have cheese, crackers and beer at Jax for the 50 departing folks “because it would feel too sad; no one will wanna come.” And I look at wonderful support staff folks like Patricia Grice and Brian Leehan, who contribute deeply to our paper’s intelligence and humanity, and feel angry that they may be forced to walk the plank so an oil-drilling company can have its big bucks.

    “I have a teenage son who is co-editor of The Quill, the student newspaper at Robbinsdale Cooper High School, and for years he dreamed of being a journalist. Now he’s not so sure.

    “We have a great union contract, but even the best contract can’t prevent layoffs and buyouts. We union officers feel like hospice workers, treating symptoms and holding hands. But in this grievous time, we also feel strong stirrings of solidarity and stubbornness in those of us left. Avista can expect to face a savvy, strong union when negotiations open next spring. We’re not rolling over — far from it. We’re going to have some things to talk about.

    Pamela Miller
    Faith & Values reporter
    Minneapolis Star Tribune

  • No Hobgoblins, No Little Minds, No Consistency: Not This Team

    Riddle me this: Did that team that lost on Saturday and Sunday in Oakland look like a club that is 7-3 over its last ten games (counting the two weekend losses)?

    Hardly. It’s weird how quickly momentum can dissipate over the course of a major league season. Just as the piranhas are heating up (at the top and bottom of the order Castillo, Punto, Kubel, Bartlett, and Tyner were on base twelve times on Sunday), the guys is the middle of the order pull a vanishing act. You’re gonna see this stat everywhere, but it’s a dead horse worth kicking: Cuddyer, Morneau, and Hunter were a combined 1-12 on Sunday, and 4-43 in the Oakland series.

    What, really, makes the little engine run? It apparently ain’t the piranhas; the Twins scored a grand total of five runs in three games. Getting on base is a fine thing, but it doesn’t mean anything if the big boppers aren’t doing their jobs and smacking the ball around the yard –and out of the park. With four runs the magic number anymore, Earl Weaver’s old standby, the three-run homer, is more important than ever. The Twins are going to go as far as their pitching and heart of the order can take them; small ball really isn’t going to win enough games in the AL Central.

    The disappearing act in Oakland was especially painful given the rock ’em-sock ’em series between Detroit and Cleveland. With the crazy unbalanced schedule it’s more possible than ever for a team to shave away at a division deficit, and in scuffling on Saturday and Sunday the Twins blew a chance to truly climb back into the fray with the Tigers and Indians.

    Finally, I find this modestly alarming: with just two months of the season under his belt, Johan Santana is one loss away from equaling the total losses from all but one of his ML seasons to date. He’s at 6-5 now, and lost just six in each of his Cy Young years. His career high for losses was seven, in 2005 (when he was 16-7).

    How about Kevin Slowey, though? That was fun to watch, and he looks like a guy (knock wood) who’s going to be consistently fun to watch for a long time.

  • Like This

    prisoner.jpg

    I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what to say. I have absolutely no idea. I can’t even begin to imagine. I’m speechless.

    Seriously, words fail me.

    The cat’s got my tongue. I’m tongue-tied. There is nothing on the tip of my tongue. I can’t explain. I have no comment. I’m at a complete loss for words. There is apparently no ax to break up the frozen sea within me, assuming there even is a frozen sea within me, and I honestly have no reason to believe this to be the case.

    It’s like this, do you understand? Do you understand what ‘like this’ means? Can you even imagine what ‘this’ means in the present context?

    I can’t. I guess I can tell you that much.

    So, listen to me: I’ve got nothing for you. The English language has become a puzzle to me. I can’t seem to find the right word, never mind the right words.

    I do know that when I say ‘like this,’ or even just ‘this,’ I’m referring to a crisis. I don’t, unfortunately, (as I’m trying to explain) have any words to explain this crisis.

    It strikes me as some kind of miracle that I have been able to dredge up from someplace a word like ‘crisis,’ or a word like ‘miracle’ or, holy shit, ‘dredge.’

    At this point such words represent major discoveries. Seeing them mysteriously appear on the page beneath my pen is like watching an entirely new continent surface in the middle of the ocean.

    As such, I must say (and I must say, I must say, I must, helplessly, say), they leave me dazzled. Wholly dazzled, and delighted, which is more, so much more, than I have any right to expect given my present frame of mind.

  • Three Cheers for the Spurs; Two for LeBron

    Among the more contrarian aspects of my sports fandom is an aversion to hyperbole in general, and Big Events in particular as a means of describing and defining the games I witness. It’s probably a snobbish impulse, because Business 101 tells us that supersizing anything is the way to bring in the casual consumer, and I fancy my approach to watching sports as anything but casual. Nevertheless, superstars boost ratings, and every sport secretly hopes that their league will be blessed with the next Tiger Woods, Wayne Gretzky, Michael Jordan, etc. (This is not limited to sports: Longtime music fans have lost count of the number of people anointed the “next Dylan” or the “new Bob Marley.”)

    I say this, of course, in the wake of all the hoopla piled on top of LeBron James’s legitimately spectacular and unarguably memorable performance in Game Five of the Cavs-Pistons series. I’ve read at least three or four accounts that refer to the performance as the real crowning of King James, as the moment LeBron went from everyday superstar to the status of icon or myth or legend–what we used to call a “superstar” before the language was cheapened.

    When confronted with this stuff, a little war goes on in my brain. First, I guess I’m envious that I can’t just submit to the frenzy of the moment, devoid of all context, and swim in the melodramatic agony and ecstasy of it all. But the more rational, analytical side is saying to the television (or computer or newspaper), “get a grip.”

    Here’s why: A year ago at this time, everyone was raving about how Dirk Nowitzki had taken that next step, had emerged from pure scorer up to inspiring team leader. The hype and hubbub over Dirk’s playoff performance last season (until the last four games against Miami, when everyone then immediately went crazy for Dwyane Wade) is how and why Notwitzki was awarded the MVP this year; which, if anyone watched both Nowitzki and Steve Nash this season, was a travesty even before Nowitzki was exposed against Golden State.

    Now, LeBron has always had way more raw talent and potential than Nowitzki, and, in my opinion, has been a better player the past two seasons *even before his world-shaking Game Five.* (Readers with good memories might recall that I picked LeBron as the NBA MVP in 2005-06.) So, obviously, the point here is not to rip or otherwise belittle LeBron, but to chafe at the black-and-white, all or nothing way the major-media machinery operates when covering sports. I practically threw a shoe through my television set listening to Magic and Barkley and the rest criticizing LeBron for passing off to Donyell Marshall for the trey attempt that was a make-or-break bucket in Game One. Who doesn’t think that if Marshall hits that shot the same blowhards aren’t gushing about how the superstar “made something happen” by drawing the defense and shrewdly compelling the win with his pass, perhaps even pointing out how it is an example of LeBron wanting to be more Magic than Michael in the way he involves his teammates on the court? The bullshit came full circle when LeBron eschewed all passes and took it hard to the hole in Game Two, only to get hacked by Rip Hamilton and thus missing the basket for another last-possession loss. Magic and Barkley both put on their bobbleheads and agreed that “you can’t expect to get that call on the road.” Hey, maybe that could have been a reason to dish it to Marshall in Game One.

    So now LeBron scores 29 of his team’s final 30 points and those who subscribe to the philosophy that your superstar has to be selfish and win games by himself are vindicated. Yup, it’s nice and neat that way. It’s just that a part of me wants to point out–as the wonderful trio of Marv Albert, Doug Collins and Steve Kerr did during the contest–that if Eric Snow isn’t in the game to strip the ball from Pistons players without fouling down the stretch, LeBron never gets the chance to be a superhero. Putting Snow in for defensive purposes was just one of the many smart moves Cavs coach Mike Brown has made in this series–another was giving LeBron a 3 and a half minute rest to start to the 4th quarter–but Magic and others such as The Sports Guy Bill Simmons had been ripping and second-guessing Brown before then. (Now, of course, it is Flip Saunders being ripped and second-guessed for not guarding LeBron more diligently. Perhaps Saunders was set up by the ball movement LeBron had fostered in the previous games; you know, the thing Barkley and Magic ripped on.) For that matter, if LeBron had missed only two instead of three crunchtime free throws, the game never would have gone into a second overtime.

    So what’s my point? That team sports are just that; a team game, full of all sorts of wonderful subtleties and wrinkles that ultimately mean as much or more than the jaw-dropping performances by the superstars. That the glory of LeBron had emerged before his Game Five explosion, when he combined with Hughes and Pavlovic to create the most suffocating perimeter defense in the Eastern Conference; and when his constant encouragement of rookie guard Daniel Gibson gave Gibson the confidence to come in and attempt, let alone make, a series of tough shots that totally swung the momentum of this series over the Cleveland. (Ask Fred Hoiberg why he was more valuable with the Wolves than anywhere else and he’ll tell you it was the confidence invested in him by KG.)

    The all-or-nothing crew is now going with the meme that LeBron single-handedly beat the Pistons. And sure, if all you do is read the box score and focus on the superstar, you see that 29 of his team’s last 30 is pretty damned single-handed. But how has the previously unflappable Chauncey Billups gotten so flustered in this series? Why has a seasoned squad of Pistons who nearly all the “experts” claimed was the undisputed class of the East and would wipe out the Cavs in this round, has instead gotten just two nail-biting home wins (that could have easily gone the other way) in the first five games? The fact is that those who called for an easy Detroit series underestimated LeBron’s supporting cast (team defense is so boring and easy to ignore, doncha know). Now that the Cavs are on the verge of upsetting their conventional wisdom, these same “experts” continue to disregard Brown’s coaching savvy and the Cavs’ synergy, and instead proclaim King James–it’s so much easier, and cleaner, without the messy details.

    The reason I love LeBron James is because through it all, and against an industrial-strength myth-making machinery that could inflate even the soundest of egos, he understands the context of what is happening here. No one disputes that without LeBron the Pistons win this in 4 or 5. But it isn’t all spectacular talent and a knack for coming up big either. Substitute Kobe for LeBron and the Pistons win this in 4 or 5 too. (Imagine how Kobe would have made Z and Varajo and Pavlovic feel during the season and the post-season; or how he would have reacted to Gibson taking over once in awhile.)

    And yes, LeBron *has* matured and taken it to another level in this series, and, just maybe, we’ll look back someday and consider this the great harbinger of the second coming of Jordan. But, eh, maybe not. And that’s my problem with The Sports Guy lately. I single him out, Bill Simmons, because he’s my favorite sportswriter (has been ever since Bob Ryan went simultaneously senile and Neanderthal a few years back and then Ralph Wiley died), and has proven on many occasions that he knows the beautiful intricacies of the game, beyond the hype. But in the past six months or so, Simmons has stooped to conquer. Humor will always be his saving grace–he makes me laugh out loud nearly every column–but he’s increasingly decided to shelve nuance and play into the lumpen “regular shmoe” stereotype. And that means hype. So it’s not enough that LeBron, in Simmons’ words, “made LeLeap” in Game Five; it has to mean that the Cavs “are gonna own the East for the next 10-12 years.”

    This is consistent with Simmons proclaiming the team that acquired Allen Iverson to be a world-beater, and that AI would practically destroy every opponent in his path once freed from Philly. The reality, of course, was that he was paired with the wrong fellow-star (Melo) and the wrong coach (George Karl) and faded away this season, even as Iguodala was emerging as his star-replacement for the Sixers. Ditto Simmons’s obsessive fixation on his beloved Celtics getting Greg Durant in the lottery. It wasn’t enough that this was, perhaps, a one-in-five chance: Every team had to be evaluated on whether they were or were not tanking, and what that meant; lottery histories had to be analyzed; college basketball had to be trumpeted while the NBA was besmirched. And for what? So a bunch of ping-pong balls could blow the whole fucking thing out of the water and expose the fixation to be much (much much much) ado about nothing? So, now that his Celts don’t have Durant and LeBron goes off for 48 and puts the Cavs on the brink of the first trip to the Finals, Boston is toast through 2017? Here’s hoping the Sports Guy stops looking for the, ah, Big Picture, and contents himself with the games, one game at a time. Because the beautiful thing about sports is that nothing ever stays the same, or very predictible for very long.

    And when it does, when genuine team greatness occurs, the casual fans frown and turn off their sets. That seems to be the case with the San Antonio Spurs, who have won so often that they have lost their cache, or become like rooting for the Yankees or something. Except that’s bullshit. First of all, the Spurs are not your classic “overdog.” Yeah, they totally lucked out winning Tim Duncan in the lottery, but since then have built their team by being ahead of the curve by scouting international talent, which is how they landed Tony Parker (France) and Manu Ginobili (Argentina) with very late draft picks, making a trio with Duncan that, along with demanding coach Gregg Popovich, comprise the heart and soul of the Spurs. And few teams in any sport have produced so much heart and soul over a 5-10 year period.

    Second, in almost direct opposition to their second and third championship teams earlier this decade, the Spurs have become a hell of a lot of fun to watch. In this year’s playoffs, only Golden State provided more sheer basketball excitement, and unlike the Warriors, the Spurs weren’t going to keep pulling the trigger on a game of Russian roulette until things ended predictably badly. San Antonio isn’t about lightning in a bottle: Their fireworks are gorgeous precisely because they’re as voluminous and well-choreographed as the skies over the Hudson on the 4th of July. Just because everyone on the team–from Duncan down to 12th man Benny Udrih–has a pretty well-defined role doesn’t mean it isn’t exciting or downright glorious to watch. No NBA has a pair of penetrators as adept as Parker and Ginobili. Few if any teams have a half-dozen players who are legitimate threats to hit the three-pointer. With Ginobili’s former Argentian national team collegue Oberto emerging at age 32 beside Duncan, no team has a more intelligent pair of low-post players. Oh, and I know this is boring and “hard to watch,” but *no* team in basketball plays defense as diligently and seamlessly and selflessly as the Spurs.

    But the Spurs are also a flavor that the public thinks it has already tasted, and so they get ignored, even by the commentators. In Game Four of the Jazz-Spurs series, if one had only been listening to the idiotic spew of Mark Jackson and (to a lesser extent) his cohorts Jeff Van Gundy and Mike Breen, one would have thought that Deron Williams and Carlos Boozer were laying waste to San Antonio: In fact, despite all the gushing Jackson was making about the Jazz’s top two players, Utah never led after the midpoint of the first quarter and was beaten at home by a dozen.

    To their credit, Sports Illustrated and Simmons have both correctly noted that after more than a decade in the league and with three rings already in his safe deposit box, Tim Duncan is playing the best basketball of his life. But Duncan has to share MVP honors with Ginobili for the Suns series (the true NBA Finals this year) and with Parker for the Jazz series. And Duncan probably doesn’t get those “better than ever” headlines without Oberto making opponents pay dearly for all the low-post double-teams on TD, especially the numerous times he’s cut along the weakside baseline and Duncan has found him for an easy layup.

    For all the times Parker and Ginobili have flown through the air, that Duncan has dipsy-doodled a turnaround hook for a banker on the right low block, the Ginobili has drawn the charge or pulled up for a trey or he or Parker have drawn the D and then dished to vets like Barry and Finley and Horry for treys–well, it is just beautiful, beautiful basketball that deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as the classic Celtic teams from the 60s as well as the 80s (and I saw them all). Simmons is wrong: This hasn’t been a terrible year for the NBA. Not with the Spurs refusing to give an inch to all comers (and the AI-Melo Nugs, Nash-Amare Suns and DWill-Boozer Jazz are a pretty good test). Not with LeBron and the Cavs’ defense quickening. Not with an eight seed toppling a 67-win team in a manner that indicated it wasn’t a fluke. On the brink of the NBA Finals–which the marketers are probably already concocting to be a Godhead versus Dynasty matchup–the game has produced a bounty of marvels. And just between you and me, they’re especially satisfying when put into their proper context, with the subtle, team aspects allowed their place.

  • Rybak Exits Star Tribune

    Media reporter Deborah Rybak has decided to take the buy-out and leave the Star Tribune. She joins the likes of Eric Black, Doug Grow, Stormi Greener, Sharon Schmickle and 40-plus more Star Tribune newsroom employees who have/had until 5 pm today to officially notify the paper of their intentions. The paper has decided to deep six the media reporting beat.

    Every departure has its elements of skullduggery and drama and Rybak’s certainly is no different. Working half time for the past six months as she dealt with family issues in California Rybak has been out of the newsroom maelstrom, but hardly immune to the effects of the tentacles of of misinformation, calculated or clueless, that have added to the anxiety dripping off the walls of the building these past few months — really ever since the day after Christmas when McClatchy announced it was selling out to Avista Capital Partners.

    Rybak had no intention of leaving as of even a week ago. In fact, she has a May 14 e-mail from managing editor Scott Gillespie assuring her that, “Our agreement is airtight,” plainly meaning that he understood she intended to return to the media job and that he had agreed to that.

    Still, to give you an idea of how screwy (and worse) these last couple weeks have been, Rybak, following the action from California, watched in a combination of puzzlement and horror as Gillespie nevertheless posted her job — meaning it was technically available for other reporters to choose — and then faded off into a veil of incommunicado-ness, sliding decision-making up and down the management pecking order. This left Rybak asking repeatedly, and long-distance, for clarification on what in the hell was going on — as in how she could declare her intentions to keep the job, based on the paper asking her to declare that she wanted it, then watching them first post the beat to all-comers, before eventually dumping the job entirely.

    UPDATE: Some of you have asked when the full, final and official list of buy-outs will be released. Guild officer Pam Miller explains that Strib management has some kind of a June 6 deadline, “But I expect they’ll announce it before that.”

    Complicating the situation is the paper’s stated (to the Guild) intention to get rid of “about” (says Miller) 10 of the 35 or so newsroom support staff, meaning news aides, librarians, etc. As Miller explains it the paper has said it will not accept more than 50 reporters, if it doesn’t get the minimum number of support staff. That could have the effect of some people who chose to take the buy-out being told their request has not been accepted.

    Or, put another way, the situation really is miserable.

    Miller, who writes for the Strib’s Faith and Valuyes section, described, “an eerily quiet scene” after today’s 5 p.m. deadline passed. Many had gone home early, perhaps seeing no purpose in ruining a perfectly good spring weekend with an extra hour of the spirit-sapping vibe of the Star Tribune building.

    “You know,” says Miller, who by the way plans on staying, “I think of myself as a happy person. I’ve liked almost all the jobs I’ve ever had, and I like this one. I look forward to coming in in the morning. But I am very concerned about what this has done to this place. The way this has been handled has made everyone more suspicious of our managers, more suspicious of Par Ridder. It has become an unhealthy, toxic environment.”

    Based on Ridder’s history and current ethical challenges I wonder if there is anyone who believes he and his current management team even have the skill set to restore their own credibility, much less a semblance of productive collegiality to the building?

    Miller adds that it isn’t as though she and her colleagues don’t understand the profound problems of the newspaper business. Rather it’s that they detect no vision at all for moving their paper into something better.

    I mentioned a memo from LA Times publisher, David Hiller, that was picked up on LAObserved yesterday.

    The LA Times is beset by at least as many problems as the Star Tribune, and may or may not be better off with the smoke and mirrors purchase by Chicago tycoon Sam Zell. But the Times at least understands, and constantly reminds its staff that it intends to survive the transition to all digital news, and at the very least it isn’t going to go down without a fight.

    Said Hiller, “We are adding technology and online product development resources. A little later today, we are announcing that Scott Sullivan has joined latimes.com as chief technology officer and will be building the teams to speed our development and rollout of new interactive products in the second half of 2007 and 2008. High on the priority list will be new local entertainment and listings products, building off the current calendarlive.com offering. We’ve also made initial investments in the camera and editing equipment necessary for our developing video strategy and continue to address our multimedia editorial training and staffing needs.”

    The Avista owned, Par-operated Strib maybe be giving lip-service to such ideas, but there isn’t anyone in the Strib newsroom who thinks they’re going to take any serious risks to achieve anything like what the Times is attempting. And THAT is demoralizing.

    Hiller added, “The recent [reduction] program was a difficult but important part of how we are changing – reducing expenses in the core and investing for growth. As part of this, we are both eliminating some positions and adding back some positions. We eliminated approximately 170 positions, mostly through the voluntary buyouts; we are planning to hire back approximately 50 positions in the core paper to strengthen talent in multi-media, local coverage, marketing and sales. In addition, we will be adding likely more than 30 additional staff in interactive before the end of the year. We are a living, changing organization and this all part of how we adapt.”

    I’ve said it before, the current Avista “team”, and I say that sardonically, betrays far more interest in “harvesting” than “investing” in the Star Tribune. Cornball chatter about, “leaner and meaner” is, frankly, an insult to the intelligence of the average reporter. Money talks, and what Avista’s money is saying is, “Every man for himself.”

  • The John McCain Pander Factor

    Conservatives have enjoyed great success pilloring Democrats and liberals with accusations of “flip-flopping”. Any lefty who everv changed their mind, voting against a flawed bill and then voting for a repaired bill was labeled a “flip-flopper”. It worked because the party’s base, the average Sean Hannity listener, wants glib judgments made for him, and made with instantaneous and unequivocal bias.

    As we see today with Mitt Romney, that “flip-flopping” can cut both ways. But I’m more fascinated with the “pander factor”, where supposedly intelligent, worldly, sophisticated men (as all the Republican presidential candidates are … “men”, I mean) not only attempt to out-Sgt. Rock each other on the issue of who can be the most ruthless toward our “enemies”, (long, murky list there), waffle on their acceptance of evolution — EVOLUTION, for chrissakes! — and, in the case of John McCain the other night on “The O’Reilly Factor”, let pass with out comment, much less condemnation, one of the most naked assertions of gender and ethnic privilege I’ve ever heard.

    Here is the YouTube link. The most interesting stuff begins at about the 1:40 mark. That is where we hear this exchange:

    Bill O’Reilly: But do you understand what the New York Times wants, and the far-left want? They want to break down the white, Christian, male power structure, which you’re a part, and so am I, and they want to bring in millions of foreign nationals to basically break down the structure that we have. In that regard, Pat Buchanan is right. So I say you’ve got to cap with a number.

    John McCain: In America today we’ve got a very strong economy and low unemployment, so we need addition farm workers, including by the way agriculture, but there may come a time where we have an economic downturn, and we don’t need so many.

    O’Reilly: But in this bill, you guys have got to cap it. Because estimation is 12 million, there may be 20 [million]. You don’t know, I don’t know. We’ve got to cap it.

    McCain: We do, we do. I agree with you.

    In fairness, McCain is “agreeing” with O’Reilly’s notion of a cap on immigration. (Get back to me with those enforcement details, Bill.) He is not specifically “agreeing” with O’Reilly’s Berchtesgaden-like view that, “the white, male, Christian power structure” is some kind of inviolable, God and Constitution-ordained law in this country.

    My point is that unless McCain’s earplug went dead at that precise moment he had an obligation, as a candidate for President of the United States, a country where over half the population is female and the percentages of the other-than-white and other-than-Christian citizenry has been substantial and growing for a century, to say something to the effect, “Well look, Bill. I’ve got to stop you there and tell you that I’m not on board with the idea that what you call the ‘white, male, Christian power structure’ is something so pure and faultless it isn’t long overdue for a little enlightened evolution.

    “Sorry, bad choice of words, there. But even though this is Fox News and even though most of your audience is 68 year-old white guys sitting in their boxers in their trailers cleaning their guns, I’m just not comfortable with your assertion, or is it Pat Buchanan’s?, that white, male and Christian is the only way to run this country.

    “Now, back to your point about making it tougher on the brown crowd to clip hedges in San Diego … .”

    Let me ask you, has any politician with as much crossover appeal as McCain had even two years ever squandered as much so fast? It is astonishing.

    Also, if you missed Jon Stewart’s “interview” with McCain about a month ago, here is that link.

    It really is a shame. But I guess we knew all along that McCain’s biggest problem was going to be the GOP’s nutball factor. But, personally, I thought he’d blow his chances by doing the “straight talk” thing with Jerry Falwell, James Dobson , O’Reilly, Hannity and the rest of the court of fools and tell them how their combination of rigid sanctimony and crass, low-denominator marketing would sooner or later kill off their party.

    Instead, McCain has shot his feet off by declining to play truth-speaker and pandering instead to their post-Weimar lunacies.

    There’s a book in this one.

  • Tasty Bits

    chocolat-celeste_1952_10900.jpg
    something lovely from celeste?

    First off, did you see this piece on kids’ menus? I’ve been noticing the ‘chicken finger pandemic’ myself for a while now, but thankfully there are places that try to feed kids, not just pacify them. Craftsman, with their finger-free kids’ menu of fresh but friendly food, comes directly to mind. I have to say, my kids aren’t saints or elite eaters by any means, but because our home dinners are not restaurant-style (no special orders!), the 4 year-old has grown up eating tilapia, zucchini, goat cheese and spinach with the rest of us. It’s actually easier than trying to make meals to fit everyone.

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    I wandered into the new Wayzata Eatery the other day. They’ve just opened with a “Fine Casual Dining” motto in the old Louie’s Habit spot. The space has been made a bit more comfortable, but it still has a dark and clubby feel. The menu looks interesting: Nueske’s BLT, parm crusted grilled cheese, wild mushroom lasagna, and an $11 Wagyu burger. The first menu wasn’t proofed very well, but crispy leaks and pine nutes are forgivable. Word is, the owners have a history in foodservice, but more on the commercial/supply side. Apparently this is their first restaurant, but they have plans to turn the old Shelley’s Woodroast into a seafood restaurant later this summer. Let’s hope it’s nothing like the Billfish concept that failed across the street.

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    Always looking to give something cool and different to the grad, this year I’m bringing personalized, stenciled chocolates from Chocolat Celeste. That and a fat check.

  • Get Your Yearly Art-fill in One Single Weekend

    ART
    Art on a Roll

    i-skate-shirt-web.jpgNorthfield has more to offer than the “Cows, Colleges, and Contentment” of the city motto. (Aren’t there more pigs than cows there anyhow?) A city becomes a true city only when it produces outsider art. Or didn’t you know that? Well, one thing you probably do know is that small towns — particularly college towns like this one — tend to produce a lot of skateboarders. (You know — the ones getting thrown out of every plaza and park in town.) In an effort to raise awareness, support skateboarding, and raise funds for a skate park, the Grezzo Gallery is hosting Breaking the Law, local art by local skaters. Celebrate the opening tonight with DJ Joe Cruse. Renegade Board Shop, from Faribault, will be putting on a demo right in font of the gallery if the weather holds up. And be sure to buy a t-shirt (design featured to the right). All proceeds will toward The Key youth center’s efforts to build a skate park.

    5:30 – 10 p.m., Grezzo Gallery, 16 Bridge Square, Downtown Northfield; 612-986-7690; free ($20 t-shirts).

    Art Festivals for Everyone

    twirl2.jpgThe Flint Hills International Children’s Festival is this weekend, and there is so much exciting stuff happening, I just have to run down the list for you. This isn’t just for kids, people. By all means take the kids if you’ve got them; but don’t forget to be the kid, too. It’s a completely interactive affair, and it ought to be great fun. Spend the day among artists and butterflies, making your own art, watching stellar performances from around the globe, eating international cuisine, and partaking in various artistic and community events. There’s an ARTwalk exhibit with more than 615 pieces of art displayed in 155 windows in downtown Saint Paul, a festival sculpture garden, an aerial ballet piece based on the work of Chagall, a Kite Festival with a huge kite 50 feet in the air adorning Landmark Plaza, a Poster Contest presented as huge building art hanging from all of the buildings surrounding Rice Park, Movement Arts, an
    ARTmoves community art parade in Rice Park, an incredible array of local performers, and international performers from Mexico, Morocco, France, and Canada. See the lineup of performers. You can’t go wrong. The amount of planning behind this event is astounding, the kids have put in a great deal of time and preparation from their part, and there’s something for everyone. Don’t miss out.

    502732979_b51d3a9aaf.jpgIf you don’t quite get your fill of art at the Children’s Festival, there are a couple of art festivals worth attending. Now in it’s sixth year, the Red Hot Art Festival brings local artists, musicians, food vendors and restauranteurs, installation artists, and community organizations together in Stevens Square Park for a unique weekend gathering.

    If you prefer your art sans community, stroll on along to the ever-so-comfortable Edina Art Fair. Enjoy work by more than 400 artists, live music, fashion shows, great food, and lifestyle demonstrations. What the heck is a lifestyle demonstration anyhow? Only in Edina!

    Out on a Limb

    icecream.jpgFor whatever reason, I can’t refrain from mentioning Jennifer Davis’s art opening this weekend. Davis offers, “the dilute pastels of a taffy-colored universe, where a tethered manatee drifts above a delighted crowd or a pensive youth dreams unbridled fantasies about the horse that got away.” And while it resembles art that I so often hate, it manages to express a certain strange perversity that justifies the sappiness. I want this stuff hanging in the nursery that I keep neglecting to need. I want to write a story, or a poem, to go with each of her images. I want the children I haven’t had to grow up dreaming them. I can’t stop looking.

    7 p.m., Gallery 360, 3011 W. 50th St., Minneapolis; 612-925-2400; free.

    BOOKS, AUTHORS, AND THEN SOME
    Call It Beat, Or Simply Be Beat

    andrecodrescu.jpgWhen he arrived in the United States in the 1960s, then 20-year-old Andrei Codrescu tucked his transcendentalist ideals into his breast pocket and sought out the vestiges of the Beat Generation, principally Allen Ginsberg. Since then, the Romanian-born writer and thinker has elucidated American culture in myriad forms: poetry, essays, novels, screenplays, and even a National Public Radio column. In traditional Beatnik spirit — if anything Beat can be called traditional — Codrescu’s sardonic wit and thirst for the unusual, his playful defiance of all categorization, are his trademarks.

    Despite his acutely ironic sense of humor and his archetypal Jewish wit, Codrescu seems an odd proposition for the Minnesota Public Radio’s American Humorist Series. “For years now I have published my poems in funny magazines / So that nobody would notice / How sad they were,” he writes in his 1980 “Paper on Humor.” More than a humorist, Codrescu is one of our nation’s leading proponents of critical thought. Fearing that our literature, particularly poetry, was suffering from lack of public debate, Codrescu founded the Exquisite Corpse literary journal in 1983. A decade and a half later, he had become one of the first online-only publications, understanding, before many, the distribution value of the Internet. There’s no denying this man’s dominion. With more than 38 published works and endless public presentations he continues to find new outlets for his obsessive learning impulses.

    Friday at 7 p.m., Fitzgerald Theater, 10 E. Exchange St., St. Paul; 651 290-1200; $22-$31.

    While seeing Codrescu is sure to be quite rewarding, living like Codrescu is perhaps even more admirable. You’ve got an opportunity to do so each day of the weekend. The beats were certainly not the first to bring poetry together with music and dance (thought they did it so well), and they’re certainly not the last. Watch words collide with spoken artwork re-colored by choreographers this Saturday in Embedded With Mangoes in the Garden of Dueling Delights, a TalkingImageConnection reading featuring Shá Cage, Carla Hagen, Julia Klatt-Singer, Haley Lasché, Sam Osterhout, Annette Schiebout, and special guests Three Dances.

    Saturday at 8 p.m., Soap Factory, 518 2nd St. SE, Minneapolis; 612-623-9176; free.

    And if you still have a little more beat in you left on Sunday, stop by the 331 Club at 6 p.m. the Lit 6 Story Stage’s Ginsbergian beat poetry day.

    DANCE
    The Language of Silence? Really?

    mn_dance_index.jpgSure, poetry with dance is cool, but let’s face it, sometimes you just just need to shut out those words. Explore the gestures of Arabic letters and poems of 13th century mystic Muhammad Jalaluddin Rumi in silence, or at least Close to Silence. Tonight the Minnesota Dance Theatre showcases the premiere of choreographer-in-residence Wynn Fricke’s Close to Silence, a piece that crosses cultural boundaries by combining modern dance with traditional Islamic dance.

    8 p.m. (Sundays 7 p.m.), The Southern Theater, 1420 Washington Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-340-1725; $32 (students and youth $17).

    DANCE, MUSIC, AND OTHER GREAT STUFF
    Forget Grand Old Days, the Insanity Starts Here

    vaudeville_sm.jpgMinnesota Public Radio is on a role this weekend. Follow up the Friday’s Codrescu presentation with a vaudevillian extravaganza on Saturday. Seventeen distinctive acts will perform as part of Vaudevillian Stages. Yes, this is real vaudeville — musicians, dancers, comedians, acrobats, and freak shows. Get a load of this line-up: Mongolian acrobats Circus Manduhai, singer Isabella Dawis, The Twin Cities Harmonica Trio, pianist Michael “The Hook” Deutsch, 21-string banjo master Paul Metzger, savage comedian Brian Beatty, Jared “Yodelboy” Mason, manualist (don’t ask) Scott Richardson, tap dance sensations The Ausland Brothers, aerialist Risa Cohen, vocal jazz stylists Rio Nido with singer Prudence Johnson, guitar luminary Tim Sparks, ethereal musical ensemble Dreamland Faces, host Tom Lieberman, and even Ned Beatty (though, strange as he is, I don’t see how he possibly fits in with this motley gang).

    Saturday at 8 p.m., Fitzgerald Theater, 10 E. Exchange St., St. Paul; 651 290-1200; $27-$31.

    MUSIC
    Diggin’ on Them Roots

    charlie1.jpgMaybe it’s the railroads that have tied Minnesota so tightly to the folk music scene since the ’40s. Or maybe it’s the good old Midwestern working-class mentality that permeates the back roads and smaller towns throughout the state. Regardless, our imprint on contemporary folk doesn’t stop at Bob “Zimmerman” Dylan. Hailing from Dylan’s hometown, and clearly influenced by much of the same music as his forebear, Charlie Parr has been quietly shaking the Americana music scene with his authentic rendering of Piedmont-style blues. With the storytelling finesse of Dylan and Woodie Guthrie, the finger-picking mastery of Rev. Gary Davis and Dave Van Ronk, and the raw soul of Robert Johnson and Brownie McGhee (is that enough name-dropping for you?), Parr builds on a strong tradition of American folk and blues while addressing the very real issues of the contemporary Midwestern working man. Anyhow, it’s a hell of a lot better than going to see Styx play at Myth! I mean, come one; they weren’t even that good in the ’80s.

    Saturday at 8 p.m., Cedar Cultural Center, 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; $9.

    Ok. Now quit reading and go DO!