The Rake Magazine

Category: Blog Post

  • Somi Preview

    The singer Somi, who will be performing at the Dakota tonight and Thursday, is like a cool glass of pink lemonade, a titch more sweet than citrus, yet still refreshingly tart on the tastebuds. Born in Illinois to parents of Rwandan and Ugandan heritage, Somi (actual name L. Kabasomi Kakoma) is a smooth cultural-musical polyglot, sinuous like Sade, with some of the breathy restraint of Cassandra Wilson, yet cognizant of the African vocal tradition of long, extended coos that gradually fade in the ether.

    Last year’s Red Soil In My Eyes, her second full-length disc, is better than her debut at showcasing her range. The opener "Ingele" is a beguiling reminder of Sade with a bossa nova pitter-patter that both singers borrowed from Astrid Gilberto. "African Lady" is a slab of Afro-beat based on a Fela tune and has his dank horn voicings. "Natural," performed as a duet with breakthrough Blue Note guitarist Lionel Loueke, may be her most impressive vocal, providing us with depth and sheen as she roams the musical scale, while the music straddles the still pool of folk and the agile improvisation of jazz. Red Soil contains some duds, of course — "Day By Day" is a compound cliché, the lyrics and the pat rhythm, and "Mbabazi" strains too hard, down to its heavy-breathing denoument. But it demonstrates that Somi is talented and able to vary the mood without a clumsy drop in quality control.

    I’d expect more jazz at the Dakota gigs, not just because it’s a jazz club, but because Somi’s current touring ensemble includes a backing trio with extensive jazz chops. Guitarist Herve Samb is a Senegalese native last at the Dakota with David Murray’s Gwo Ka Masters. Samb’s own music leans toward hip-hop inflected neo-soul, so he too is a polyglot. He’s also scheduled to perform in France later this week so I’m not positive he’ll make the Somi gigs. Pianist Toru Dodo is a Japanese native schooled at Berklee who has played with jazz heavyweights like Kenny Garrett and Benny Golson. And percussionist Daniel Moreno has gigged with George Benson and Roy Haynes, appeared on Roy Hargrove’s Rh Factor world-jazz fusion disc, and collaborated with Angolan singer-guitarist Waldemar Bastos who put on a fabulous (and obviously memorable) performance at the Walker nine years ago.

    In the past year or two, the Dakota has increasingly supplemented its jazz calendar with kindred music from New Orleans and Africa in particular, ranging from Dr. John and Irvin Mayfield to Toumani Diabate and Dee Dee Bridgewater’s Red Earth project. These next two nights with Somi have a chance to further buttress that breadth.

  • Identity Crises… Literary Edition

    When she was in second grade, my girlfriend was informed by her teacher that E.B. White was a woman. Ostensibly, she was using the initials ‘E.B.’ to hide this fact, because books written by women, of course, didn’t sell as well as those by men.

    "No," I said, fifteen years after the fact. "You’re wrong, like usual. Or rather, your teacher was wrong, but I’m putting it on you."

    After a quick Google search, we found that E.B. (author of Charlotte’s Web, the book they were reading) was short for Elwyn Brooks, and even though that’s still somewhat androgynous, the pronoun ‘he’ was being used in all instances. And there was a picture of a man, which was fairly incriminating, smooth cheeks notwithstanding.

    "This changes everything," my very sweet, feminine girlfriend said. "But you shouldn’t have told me I was wrong. I still love you though."

    This changes everything. Why do we form such set ideas about the authors whose books we read? To the point that, if we learn an unusual fact about them, our opinions change about their work? Like when I heard Roald Dahl was an anti-Semite, or Wallace Stevens was American (I’d thought Irish – I don’t know why), or Shel Silverstein is maybe the most terrifying person ever: All of a sudden I felt I had to reexamine their stories and poems, as if these personal tidbits might unlock some secrets hidden in their texts.

    But it’s unfair of us. Especially in the realm of fiction, where the entire premise of a story is that it doesn’t have to be real. (They have to be honest, they have to be sincere, but certainly not real.) I imagine the very reason writers like J.D. Salinger become reclusive is so that their biographies don’t get intertwined with their work. Still, I’ll re-read Catcher in the Rye or Franny and Zooey and think to myself, ‘This was written by a man who totally took himself away from society. What does that mean?’ And I suspect that thinking about this gives the narrators of these books, in my head, certain desolate, lonely voices that may not have been intended. That is to say, we mar fiction by involving its authors in their work.

    In the last year or two, the already-ailing literary world has been getting a ton of bad publicity due to some identity fraud. The most notorious example, of course, is James Frey’s admission that he exaggerated some facts in his Oprah-loved memoir, A Million Little Pieces. More recently, Margaret Jones confessed that she wasn’t actually a half-Native American raised by a black family in LA, as she posited in her memoir, Love and Consequences; and Misha Defonseca, author of the Holocaust memoir Misha, admitted she wasn’t raised by wolves in the forests of Europe during the war. (Is this new news? No — this isn’t new news.)

    Memoirs are supposed to be true, and these writers deserved to get called out. Apparently Mr. Frey was considering publishing his as fiction…and then didn’t. My theory? It’s because he can’t write a sentence. An excerpt? An excerpt:

    "I see my attendant friend and I raise a hand.
    Are you okay?
    No.
    What’s wrong?
    I can’t really walk.
    If you can make it to the door I can get you a chair.
    How far is the door?
    Not far.
    I stand. I wobble. I sit back down. I stare at the floor and take a deep breath."

    If we all go back to late high school/early college and take out our differential calculus text books, and decide to apply mathematic principles to literature, one might say that Frey’s prose is a derivative of Cormac McCarthy’s prose (aptly ridiculed here), which is a derivative of Hemingway’s prose, which is sometimes perfect but still sparse.
    Hem’s answer to what might be the best intellectual training for the would-be writer, taken from his interview with The Paris Review:
    "Let’s say he should go out and hang himself because he finds that writing well is impossibly difficult. Then he should be cut down without mercy and forced by his own self to write as well as he can for the rest of his life. At least he will have the story of the hanging to commence with."

    Frey had a good story (in minor need of embellishment, I guess), but not a lot more. Still, in the current climate of the literary industry, if you’ve got a good story, and it’s mostly true, it can still sell well in spite of shoddy craftsmanship.

    Rachel Donadio puts it well in Papercuts.

    The real damage, though, has been inflicted upon the fiction industry. Take a look at JT Leroy. Among other books, he wrote a short story collection entitled The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things (2001). It was met with ridiculous amounts of praise, and deserved every blurb. Then, in 2006, it was revealed that JT Leroy didn’t exist — he was actually an alternate personality for one Laura Albert, a middle-aged woman in California. (‘Alternate personality’ meaning, this was no mere pseudonym. Check this out.)

    Unqualified rage ensued. Pretty soon thereafter, the likes of Ian McEwan (Saturday, Atonement) was getting harangued for not citing his sources in his novels. Even though he did cite them.

    The point being, Leroy/Albert’s writings were published as fiction, which gives the author, in my view, the liberty to slap whatever they want to inside – or outside – a book’s covers. Albert never claimed the writings were autobiographical, rather it was assumed. And to make something imagined so personal that people believe it’s real, well that’s just good writing. (I’m not going to get into the battle over film rights, which does incriminate Albert just a little bit…or a lot.) Really, though, this is no different than Mary Ann Evans writing as George Eliot, or Amandine Dupin writing as George Sand…or E.B. White the woman writing as E.B. White the man.

  • More April (and March) Book Releases

  • Minnesota: Card Carrying Member of the Mile High Club

    After $761 million in public financing in the early
    nineties, countless broken promises to workers, unions, legislators, and the
    inane poke to the rectum that is the price of the Northwest
    SmartSnack    , Minnesota’s favorite dysfunctional relationship is over.
    Sure, it was great to throw our international hub status in the faces of those
    who would dare deem us flyover country. And surely the fascinating articles on
    Minnesota cities and landmarks featured in NWA WorldTraveler
    brought hordes of screaming tourists to our fair state and raised the profile
    of Forest
    Lake     on the world stage. The tax revenue didn’t hurt either.

    But we paid dearly for these perks. For no matter how many
    times the airline took advantage of our willingness to bend over, we never once
    got a reacharound.
    And make no mistake, the announced acquisition of Northwest Airlines by Delta
    is no exception.

    Many are calling this move a merger. I call bullshit. Delta
    is paying $3.1 billion for Northwest, the company is going to be called Delta,
    and the headquarters is going to be located in Atlanta. This shouldn’t strike
    anyone with a functioning neuron as a merger of equals. Of course, this isn’t
    such a horrible thing for the companies. By trimming operations, marketing, and
    executive staff, not to mention logistics, at various airports, the company
    gets to continue to do business in a remarkably inefficient way – continuing
    the holding action the airlines have been running for the last decade as they
    try to cope with the economic realities of the modern world.

    That’s what this merger is about. Two large airlines, both
    in fairly weak positions coming off bankruptcy, recognizing that being bigger
    would allow them to continue the status quo for a few more years before the
    economy and their own stultifying cultures and abject idiocy brings them
    inevitably to the conclusion that the only way to survive and cover the rising
    cost of jet fuel is to sell "executive
    services    " in WorldClub lounges.

    But what does this mean for Minnesota? In the short term,
    we’re getting buggered again, sans lube. Northwest HQ will leave town, along
    with the high paying jobs and tax revenues that accompany it. The newly merged
    company will have a conversation with our esteemed governor to discuss how it
    can adhere to the "spirit" of its agreements with the state and much noise will
    be made about the obvious benefits of whatever agreement is made to release the
    company from its obligations – maybe we’ll take flying unicorns instead of
    planes, and the in-flight drink service will include MDMA cocktails, making for
    the happiest red-eye in aviation history.

    Regardless, Minnesota’s grand tradition of being boned by
    business will, of course, preclude taking payment on the $245 million in
    bonding money the airline technically would owe the state for pulling the
    headquarters out of the state.

    Of course, Northwest leaving would present more opportunity
    should our government show some huevos and take away some of the preferred
    provider status the airline enjoys at MSP. For years, Northwest has rabidly
    turned away competition at the airport by undercutting competitor pricing and
    locking up three quarters of the gates at the Lindbergh Terminal. With
    concessions from the uber-line, we could have real competition in the market.
    Southwest and JetBlue might actually set up shop here, thus dropping average
    fares for Minnesotans. Because sure, we have service to 160 cities, but on
    average it costs us $60 more per ticket to get to any of them, according to a
    University of California, Berkeley study.

    But given how many times our government has rolled over and
    wet itself in the face of pressure from business interests, I’d say das
    uber-line will be happily gouging Minnesotans for Cancun vacations until we
    rise up in a grand populist rebellion, or until they realize what kind of
    margins Ashley
    Alexandra Dupre     could bring to the WorldClubs.

     

     

     

  • The Three Pointer: Painless #60

    AP Photo by Carlos Osorio

    Game #81, Road Game #41: Minnesota 103, Detroit 115

    Season Record: 21-60

    1. One More Smallball Razzing

    Since this will probably be my last Wolves three-pointer of the year (I’ll either do a season evaluation and/or cover the team’s press conference later this week after tomorrow’s Milwaukee tilt), it’s appropriate that I jackhammer on the anti-smallball theme one more time, eh?

    Without being a conspiracy theorist, isn’t it odd that we finally got a long look at Jefferson-Gomes-Brewer-McCants-Foye the other night (a lineup one might think would be deployed on a more regular basis, given that it best reflects the five players this organization is probably most invested in right now) and tonight had not one but two stints where Al Jefferson and Chris Richard actually were allowed to play on the floor together? Now, granted, the first one was just 3:16 in the second period and the second only a tad longer at 3:33 in the fourth, which is hardly a large sample. But lo and behold, how did the Wolves and Jefferson fare in that combined 6:49?

    How about plus +9, factored out at plus +1 in the first half stint and plus +8 in the second half one. If you go plus +9 in 6:49 of a 12-point loss, that means the Wolves were a miserable minus -21 in the 41:11 Jefferson and Richard didn’t play together. Here’s another interesting stat: On a night when Jefferson labored hard to get his 30 points, shooting 12-26 FG, he was 4-5 FG during his time with Richard, and thus 8-21 FG without Richard. What makes this even more skewed is that Richard had a case of the dropsies tonight; he flubbed an easy slam opportunity on a pick and roll, frittered away a basic feed into the post, and couldn’t even retain possession of a rebounded free throw in the final period. Imagine Al Jefferson playing beside a center who could not only hang on to the rock a little bit, but stick a 12-footer just often enough to deter those double-teams. Imagine Ryan Gomes guarding Tayshaun Prince instead of Rasheed Wallace.

    2. The Foye-McCants Redundancy

    It is quite possible that Randy Foye and Rashad McCants can find a way to co-exist in the same backcourt, especially if they realize it is the only way they both get regular rotation minutes. But in a very fundamental way, they really do have a lot of overlap in their respective games. Neither one of them is really a point guard, in that point guards are working for a seamless blend and a synergistic ensemble above all else–they are the Anthony Hopkins or Gene Hackman of hoops, capable of greatness mostly in the context of their character role. Foye and Shaddy are more like Jack Nicholson, the shooting guard of actors, a guy who is essentially himself regardless of what role he plays, a guy who elevates the ensemble by being a shining star, not a blender.

    Everybody knows this about McCants, of course. Tonight he got up 17 shots (making 8, with 2-7 from 3pt range) in 30:30, and received a technical foul for banging into Rodney Stuckey heading back up the court after executing a spectacular dunk that facialed both Jason Maxiell and Amir Johnson in the 4th quarter. Foye is a little less obvious, especially if you just read his stat line in the box score instead of watching him operate an offense. Tonight, for example, he had an impressive 9/1 assist-to-turnover ratio. But what the stats don’t show is after he nailed a jumper midway through the first period for his initial points of the night, he waited three seconds on the team’s next possession to give himself a heat check and try to stick another. Later that same period, he stepped back and made a trey for his second bucket of the night. Eight seconds into the team’s very next offensive possession, he launched another trey–heat check #2 (both heat checks missed).

    On a slightly more macro level, Foye very much buys into his 4th quarter mythology. Tonight, he was 4-7 FG with 4 assists after three periods. But in the final 12 minutes, he launched as many shots as he had in the first three quarters (going 2-7 FG) and doled out even more assists (5, versus zero turnovers). In other words, Foye’s governance of the offense was much more pronounced in the 4th quarter, in ways that were both good and bad.

    There are worse things than two Jack Nicholsons, of course, and by that I mean that both Foye and McCants have undeniable talent. Er, offensive talent, anyway. Neither one seems to be able to play a lick of defense. Randy Wittman has loosened the reins a little bit these past couple weeks, which has certainly made the games more entertaining in the sense of showmanship and skill-rendering, but in the process the Wolves are yielding a whopping 112 points per game during the month of April, and it starts on the perimeter. Tonight, both Chauncey Billups and Ronnie Stuckey could get pretty much anywhere they wanted off the dribble, and Shaddy’s defense was equally porous and lackadaisical.

    Getting a quality point guard would be a boon for this ballclub in more ways than one. It would shake up the pecking order and compel both Foye and McCants to redefine their styles and priorities. It would also nice to see Jefferson, Foye and McCants all benefit from a slick passer with good court vision who, unlike Mr. Telfair, could keep opponents honest with an accurate jumper and/or an ability to finish at the hole as well.

    3. Snyder and Brewer Are Not Redundant

    The largest stylstic difference the past few games has been when Brewer and Snyder have subbed in for one another. Even as Snyder’s defense has become more sporadic, he has gotten to the rim off the dribble more consistently than any of the swingmen or back court players on the roster. Brewer, on the other hand, is thankfully concentrating on defense and rebounding once more and letting the shots come to him by accident–he was an efficient 4-5 FG in 24:46 tonight as a result.

    The biggest similarity between the two small forwards is they both are anxious to exploit opponents in transition and are much less effective when the pace is slow and the offense bogs down in the half court. On the odd chance that Snyder is still around next year, it might be good to see them playing together on a quintet that tries to play three-quarter court traps and just generally pressures the ball. Of course that’s best utilized when you have a shot-blocker to help clean up the gambles of pressing, which brings us back to square one (or at least point one) and the need for a pivot man to prevent small ball from becoming the fallback position.

  • Sparks Fly

    FASHION & MUSIC
    Voltage 2008: Fashion Amplified

    Voltage: Fashion Amplified pumps up the volume again with their annual synthesis of music and fashion. First Avenue is showcasing local fashion gurus along the catwalk with the native Minnesota sounds of The Haves Have It, Zibra Zibra, Bella Koshka, MC/VL, White Light Riot and Birthday Suits
    (who also sport the fashions of the designers). The event is set to
    take place the day before the opening of Voltage Fashion Weekend 2008,
    which will include workshops, fashion shows, trunk shows, and social
    networking happy hours for those interested in design and fashion. For
    a list of the weekend events go here. And be sure to peruse the list of runway designers. —Hannah Simpson

    7 p.m., First Avenue, 701 First Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-332-1775; $20.

    See a slideshow preview of the designs, enjoy Christy DeSmith’s Exclusive Sneak Peek, and read an interview with Voltage designer Ra’mon Lawrence Coleman.

    FILM
    Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Milos

    If Voltage isn’t your thing, you have some fabulous film fare from which to choose. The Milos Forman retrospective at the Walker continues this evening with one of his best, and perhaps funniest — though most controversial — films, The Fireman’s Ball. For another, very different kind of classic, of the angel-eyes variety, put your drawers on, take your guns off, and head over to the Edina Cinema for a screening of the world’s best Western, The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. And finally, for an "eclectic mix of local filmmaking talent," make your way to the Bryant Lake Bowl for IFP’s monthly Cinema Lounge, featuring films by Jon Springer, JoEllen Martinson & William Scott Rees, Troy Zimmerman, Shakademic, Sean Cook, Sarah Jean Kruchowski, and Jarl Olsen.

    BOOKS & AUTHORS
    Tough Questions, Straight Answers

    A man with two purple hearts and two U.S. Senate terms under his belt — including membership on four senate committees: Foreign Relations; Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs; Intelligence; and Rules — Chuck Hagel is sure to have an erudite position on the current state of our country. Tonight, he will share these views with the Twin Cities as he discuss his new book, America: Our Next Chapter: Tough Questions, Straight Answers. Through a largely conservative, but consistent and perhaps even practical lens, Hagel looks to the nation’s founding principles to explore the economic, foreign policy, national security, political, domestic, and leadership challenges facing America today.

    7 p.m., University of Minnesota Bookstore, Coffman Memorial Union, 300 Washington Ave. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-625-5549; free.

  • Confidence Game: A Case of the Yips in the Motor City

    AP Photo by Duane Burleson

    We’ve been spoiled. While the Twins starting pitching and offense have too often been an iffy, up-and-down proposition throughout most of the 21st century, the bullpen has pretty consistently owned the late innings and protected leads. It was easy, in fact, to take them for granted. It didn’t seem to matter what collection of spare parts and previously anonymous warm bodies showed up in Florida in mid-February; by the time opening day rolled around Ron Gardenhire and Rick Anderson would have assembled a pen that was generally one thing Twins fans didn’t have to spend a lot of time fretting over.

    Eddie Guardado, LaTroy Hawkins, J.C. Romero, Bob Wells, Jack Cressend, Tony Fiore, Juan Rincon, Mike Jackson, Johan Santana (remember him?), Jesse Crain, Aaron Fultz, Matt Guerrier, Joe Nathan, Dennys Reyes, Pat Neshek….I’m sure I’m missing a few, and, yeah, some of those guys took their lumps in Twins uniforms before they found their niche; others were salvaged from some other organization’s scrap heap. The bottom line, though, is that since the Twins millennial turnaround the bullpen has been a constant.

    Fans who have been paying attention long enough –anyone who, say, still shudders at the name Ron Davis, or remembers LaTroy’s brutal stint as the closer — know what a luxury that is. Still, the various meltdowns and injuries (Romero, Rincon, Crain, Reyes, Glenn Perkins) notwithstanding, the late-inning guys have been nothing if not resilient and relentlessly effective.

    Which is what makes what’s happened the last week –in Chicago and, especially, in Detroit –so startling. Coming into this season the starting pitching was, charitably speaking, a question mark, and with few exceptions the starters have been pretty damn good. Better, certainly, than any of us had any reason to expect. And they sure as hell should have won three games the bullpen has coughed up in spectacular and debilitating fashion.

    The culprits in the first two cases –a 7-4 loss to the loathsome White Sox, and Monday night’s 11-9 heartbreaker in Detroit– have been the uncommonly reliable Matt Guerrier and Pat Neshek. It’s too early to be seriously concerned, I suppose, but these weren’t just instances where Guerrier and Neshek were getting nicked. No, they were getting rocked. Granted, Jermaine Dye’s seventh-inning single off Neshek that tied the score in Chicago was the result of a decent pitch and a very ugly swing, but it seemed to open the floodgates, and they’ve been open pretty much ever since.

    Both Guerrier and Neshek are finding way too much of the plate with their fastballs, but also, most notably, with their breaking balls. Maybe it’s the cold weather, but Neshek in particular doesn’t seem to have either access to the velocity he’s showed over the last couple years or that Frisbee-like movement on his slider.

    I guess what makes these early struggles a bit alarming is the fact that both guys were in the A.L. top ten in appearances last year (74 for Neshek and 73 for Guerrier). Guerrier set a career high for appearances and innings (88), and pitched two or more innings 14 times. The rotation being what it is –and, sorry, Livan Hernandez is fun to watch, but the league’s eventually going to catch up to a guy with his stuff and his strikeout ratio– the fortunes of this team depend heavily on the seventh and eighth-inning guys getting the game to Joe Nathan. If this shit keeps up all those dollars the Twins are paying Nathan are going to be more a pension or a retainer than a salary.

    It’s probably also too early to get too concerned about Joe Mauer, but I don’t think it’s too early to start to recognize and perhaps accept what he is. And what he is is a very good catcher with a pretty swing. Folks, our Joe is not a superstar. He’s not a guy who can carry a team for a week or two at a time. He’s not even a middle-of-the-order guy. He belongs in the two hole until he demonstrates otherwise, and I honestly don’t expect him to ever demonstrate otherwise.

    When Carlos Gomez gets on base (and this looks like it’s going to be increasingly infrequent as other teams get the book on him: feed him a steady diet of sliders down and away and fastballs up and in), Mauer’s skills are ideally suited to move him over and even drive him in, provided doing so doesn’t require much more than an occasional line drive or sacrifice fly. He has excellent plate discipline and bat control –perhaps, as many people will tell you, too much discipline and control. Mauer is what he is, and moving him to third base or the outfield, I’m pretty sure, is not going to change the kind of hitter he is. He’s a natural, a controlled, instinctive hitter, but I’m afraid I’ve seen no indications over the last several years that he’s willing to change, adapt, or even learn anything new. If he gets better he might be Wade Boggs.

    I never much liked Wade Boggs.

  • Omnibus Energy Bill Takes Shape

    This just in from the Minnesota House of Representatives Session Daily:

    Proposals designed to boost solar and wind power and
    tighten greenhouse gas regulations are among the provisions of the omnibus energy bill approved by the House Finance Committee.


    HF3661    /SF3337*,
    sponsored by

    Rep. Bill Hilty     (DFL-Finlayson) and

    Sen. Yvonne Prettner Solon     (DFL-Duluth), originally contained language that
    would require the Commerce Department and Pollution Control Agency to submit
    regular reports to the Legislature on progress made in meeting the state’s
    greenhouse gas reduction goals. As amended by Hilty, the bill now contains
    language from several other bills, including:

    • a provision that would carve out a small portion of the
      state’s mandated renewable energy standard and dedicate it to solar power (from

      HF3843      , sponsored by

      Rep. Kathy Brynaert       (DFL-Mankato));
    • a provision requiring producers and purchasers of gasses
      with a high "global warming potential" to report data on sales and use of the
      gasses to the PCA (from

      HF3545      , sponsored by

      Rep. Joe Atkins       (DFL-Inver Grove Heights));
    • a provision forbidding the sale or purchase of small
      canisters of mobile air conditioner refrigerant (also from

      HF3545      , sponsored by Atkins); and
    • a provision authorizing the Commerce Department to
      coordinate and arrange bulk purchases of wind turbines and related equipment
      (from

      HF3343      , sponsored by

      Rep. Al Juhnke       (DFL-Willmar)).

    The bill now goes to the House Ways and Means Committee.

     

  • Ruf Rash

    (e.d.: I wish I had an uncle like Kurt Nelson’s. The "Yellobird" is just the most famous roadgoing Porsche Turbo of all time. Big article in Sports Car International this month–the only one you should read. Here are Kurt’s fond memories of the RUF experience, rashes included:)

    The day I drove a RUF CTR stays with me like a good rash —
    something a little annoying, but the burning sensation went away with boost, oh
    so lovely boost.

    There is Porsche, and then there are the RUF variants,
    taking what is already a potent automobile and transforming them into
    unbelievable driving machines. Alois Ruf
    Jr., the man behind the engines, takes his place as one of the worlds foremost
    tuners, and I was fortunate enough to have driven one of his iconic cars. I
    actually got to flog it a bit, spin the tires and move the speedo a little, all
    the while remaining very smug

    About 15 years ago my
    uncle brought me into his garage to show me the latest acquisition to his
    stable; a RUF Porsche CTR, or commonly known as the “Yellowbird”. This is a car he picked up new and shipped to
    Germany for Alois Ruf Jr. to do his magic.
    That magic included taking a normally aspirated 3.6l engine and thru
    some “tweaks” turning it into a 475 hp beast with a manual boost control
    allowing for up to 32 lbs of turbo mayhem coupled with quad pot Brembo brakes
    all around; if you are going to propel
    to outrageous speeds, you had better be able to come to a screeching halt if needed.

    I was giddy when the engine turned over: the rumble was like a heartbeat, a low
    thumping which belied the power under the hood. This was long before the rice
    burners and the fart cans sticking out the back, so having a little noise from
    the exhaust actually meant something. It
    was the roar when he kicked the throttle down that made my inner child stand up
    and say holy farcking-schmidt.

    He drove first, allowing me to feel what it’s like to be
    pinned to the seat, in 3 gears, engine roaring, tires smoking, and passing cars like they were in
    reverse. To be fair, mid way into 3rd
    gear and we were over 120 mph, but who was keeping track, not me I was too busy
    trying to wipe the full shit eating grin off my face.

    After some begging, groveling really, and promising that I
    would not fuck up the car, we changed seats and I got to drive this piece of
    automotive wonder. Buckles fastened,
    smile firmly attached to face, and my license in a easily reachable place just
    in case, I let er rip, smoking the tires and shifting as fast as I could into
    second, not just to preserve the motor, but also to stop the wheel spin, and
    really feel the acceleration when those sticky tires hooked up. I knew that the acceleration would be mind
    blowing, but what I really wanted was to get into the twistys, ya know, let it
    all out on some curves, testing to see if those tires were worth their value at
    $300 each. On my first freeway cloverleaf,
    I experienced the drivability issue common to Porsche; over steer. Coming in at 90, I hit the brakes hard, and
    got the car a bit sideways, with the backend coming around more than was
    comfortable, and really it was not a problem, but my passenger suddenly had a
    less than comfortable look on his face. Hey,
    if you don’t push it a bit every now and then, how do you know what the limits
    are or how do find out if those tires perform as predicted. A bonus is being able to steer with the right
    foot, using the throttle to point shoot at will. Pulling a rollercoaster like g force, the car
    just tracked around the cloverleaf and rocketed into the merge lane at 75, just
    out of 2nd gear. That was fun
    so I sought out another set of cloverleaf exchanges, and to varying degrees I
    had the car either under control or out of control, depending on the
    driver or passenger perspective.

    This was all we could muster, due to traffic and the
    presence of the police, who were eying the car, just waiting for me to do
    something stupid. I did bring it up to
    about 140 when we were out of traffic, and judging by how hard is was pulling,
    the claim by RUF of a top end over 200mph seemed plausible.

    He has since sold the RUF, and other cars have come into the fold including a Ferrari 512M
    which is a kick to drive as well , but that Porsche lingers in my memory and always brings a smile
    and a regret that I did not go to law school and become a criminal defense
    attorney.

    http://galeria.forocoches.com/data/4054/16205YB-1024×780.jpg

  • Plastic Surgery Consultant? Really?

    You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s not bad enough we waste so much time and energy (and lives) on vanity; now we’re hiring consultants? Here’s a press release that just came across my desk for a plastic surgery consultant. I like how the first tip is to not fall in love with your surgeon. Hey, good advice! But wasn’t it Pygmalion that fell in love with his statue, and not the other way around?
     

    April 2008 – Cosmetic plastic surgery is a
    luxury in the best or worst of times. "Make no mistake about it people
    will always want to improve their appearance with cosmetic surgery,"says Angela Segal, independent patient consultant for individuals
    seeking cosmetic surgery. "People need to know how to cut through the
    fluff and get the best value for the investment they are making in
    themselves."

    As an independent consultant, Ms. Segal works exclusively for the patient. Her popular website www.AngelaSegal.com
    helps patients navigate the plastic surgeon selection process. Segal a
    former 12 year veteran patient consultant and administrator provides a
    unique approach from the "inside" on how to determine the best
    procedures for the best prices.

    Ms Segal contends there are 5 basic ways to help patients reach their plastic surgery goals:

    1. Don’t fall in love with the surgeon. The personality of the surgeon
    is of slight importance but remember you are paying the surgeon for
    surgery. You will be asleep when the surgeon performs the service that
    you are paying for. Obviously if the surgeon is rude or arrogant that
    is unacceptable. The best indicator is the longevity and attitude of
    the staff. Remember, the surgeon pays them to be there. If they are not
    happy you probably will not be happy either.

    2. Be honest about what you bring to the table. It’s a hard truth; but
    price negotiation in elective plastic surgery always comes down to the
    risk for complications and how long the surgery takes to perform. Time
    is money.

    3. Be firm but likable. Forcing the surgeon into accepting your price
    can backfire, especially if the practice dreads your every contact. The
    goal is to be fair and get the best value. Never forget that the
    relationship should be a partnership.

    4. Learn to compare fees by procedure, surgery time, facility and
    supplies used. This can be tricky because sometimes these points are
    not clearly written on the quote. A shifting of fees can leave a
    patient believing they have a better deal than they really have. Don’t
    be afraid to ask for the information that you need to compare fees if
    it is not present on the quote.

    5. Pay for your consultation. Paying for your consultation with the
    surgeon proves to the surgeon that you are serious. A veterinarian does
    not give free consultations. It is ridiculous to expect a medical
    doctor with surgical experience to perform a medical evaluation for
    free. Ask questions specifically related to you and what the
    recommendations are. You are making a decision based on your desires,
    what the surgeon can achieve, and the best value.

    Ms. Segal offers her consulting services on line, by phone, or in person.

    Press Inquiries Contact: askangelasegal@aol.com
    (714) 425-5900