Up All Night
Faster than the speed of time
I don’t know anyone who doesn’t waste at least a little thinking space over how much time speeds up as we age. The phenomenon has spawned numerous mathematical theories and countless arguments about physiology and environment that keep mathematicians and social scientists eternally butting heads in the halls of academia. In real life, the passage of time manifests itself as an increasingly kaleidoscopic sense of memory and the feeling that summer gets shorter every year. After all, when you’re six and you only have linear memories from maybe the last three years, an 11-week summer vacation is effectively 7% of your whole life. At 40, 7% is 145 weeks, or almost three years. That’s quite a difference. For ongoing, in-depth exploration of time acceleration theory, I suggest having a bunch of kids and spreading their ages out over as many years as you can. My sample is rather small for this model: I have five kids aged 10 to 18, with nieces and nephews expanding the data set to the ages of 5 to 21. My research has nothing to do with the kids’ perception of time, but with my own. I can’t keep up with how often these kids are metamorphosing, while my own growth has slowed to a barely evolutionary crawl. Two years ago my oldest daughter Alex was a high school junior looking forward to her 16th birthday, feeling like she had the world by the ass. This morning she probably got up early in the south side apartment she shares with her boyfriend, let the dog out and took the bus to her cashier job. She’s figuring herself out, and for now she just wants to work and live on her own. At this time in 2006, my son Harrison was having a hell of a time understanding that he wasn’t the center of the universe (partly my fault, for sure). Since then, he’s been through a slew of changes that could erode the emotional security of any man, but he seems more grounded than a lot of people I know, kid or adult. Savannah just reached the delightful age of 14, complete with all the age-appropriate trappings, and Jesse is starting to smell like puberty is not far off. But right now it’s Cassidy who amazes me the most. When I met Cass she was freshly 14, and the family member everyone was afraid of provoking. Known for her dark bursts of temper, she kept to herself a lot, painting her nails black and staring moodily into space for hours on end. As I was getting to know her siblings, I found some way to bond with each of them, but Cassidy was a pissed-off Cheshire Cat to me. I even lowered myself to her engagement style once or twice, to my great personal mortification. But in the thick of what I think back on as “the dark times,” Cass started sitting in the kitchen while I cooked, slicing vegetables for sauce and helping out […]
Jun 2nd, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
No more gilding the lily
“To gild refined gold, to paint the lily… is wasteful and ridiculous excess.” —Shakespeare, from King John (1595): This morning my son and I were planning his 10th birthday party. I live in East Town Tosa, a neighborhood that straddles the border between affluent aspirations and working class reality. His first few years of school, in the early 2000s, I was frequently faced with extravagant birthday parties and gift-giving that felt like either intense competition between parents or the setting of an unhealthy precedent. Of course, everyone’s intentions were good, but it still bugged me. So each year when Harry’s turn to “celebrate” came, I sent a note to parents asking that he not receive gifts in excess of $20 and informing them that we would not open presents at the party, but would send thank-you’s afterward. To my surprise, a few parents whispered their approval in my ear, though just a few took up the call. Harry’s parties get great reviews – we’ve done a backyard campout, a day at Miller Beach, an all-night Star Wars movie-thon (complete with light saber battles in the living room) and my favorite – inviting three boys over to pick up all the sticks in my yard, then burning them in the fire pit while roasting marshmallows. Two for one, everybody wins! And here’s what you don’t see at his get-togethers: boys comparing the gifts they brought; begging for more tokens when they run out first; crying quiet tears in the back seat because they didn’t win a big prize at the arcade. The reason is simple: contentment truly is more about imagination than money. And Harry’s story is a metaphor for what I see all around me these days. Over the last decade, so many fools (yeah, I said it) have spent up their available credit simply because they could, blindly swallowing fantasy stories about an ever-expanding economy and America’s lifestyle entitlement. They believed it was okay to pay way too much for a house because interest rates were low; they justified gas-guzzling, expensive-to-insure, high-payment vehicles for the flimsiest of reasons, which in fact came down to no more than, “It’s shiny and I want it like an Oompa Loompa – now.” At the same time, over 40 million citizens were without health insurance and 13 million children were living below the poverty line. If put to the question, only the most megalomaniacal of conservative thinkers could believe the situation was good for the future of the nation. It just goes to show another apparent deficiency in our education system: the lack of emphasis on cautionary tales. The Panic of 1893, the 1907 Bankers Panic (the 4th in 34 years), the Crash of 1929, the Great Depression, the 1973 oil crisis, the 1979 energy crisis, the 1990 oil crisis leading to the Gulf War, five recessions in less than 30 years. The list is incomplete, but long enough to establish a pattern: We rise, we fall. As individuals we don’t control market […]
May 1st, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
New Model Army
I started writing my column this month on booze in the newsroom and other lost traditions. In my 21 years in journalism, I’ve witnessed the devolution of media culture from free-wheeling hotbeds of professional tension and excessive living into hushed, corporate cubicle warrens, with reporters and sales folk alike watching their companies’ stock prices as a key indicator of success or failure. I find this development counterproductive, unnecessary and possibly even fatal. Bloggers, gun-for-hire correspondents and foreign news agencies like the BBC and Al-Jazeera have become the new vanguard, and their work constitutes most of the heavy lifting in global coverage. The biggest loss is at the local level, where panicking publishers retire their most experienced newshounds in favor of cheaper, younger labor (or nobody at all), compromising our access to the information that affects us most directly by eliminating the beat reporter with intimate knowledge of the players. Experience has been devalued into obsolescence: a strong statement where exceptions are surely demonstrable, but generally true in my opinion. As a publisher, I absolutely understand the financial travails of for-profit journalism. I know that lifestyle sells to advertisers better than news coverage and that bills must be paid. I know that print is on the wane and web is on the rise, and that the big challenge is monetization of web opportunity. I also understand that the digital democratization of information is one of the greatest blessings of this modern age, but that as a result, it is increasingly difficult to be the exclusive source for anything. It’s a conundrum of biblical proportions and it’s threatening to take down the existing structure of the Fourth Estate. The New York Times and Washington Post are two excellent examples of locally-based daily newspapers that successfully serve an enormous national and international audience on the web, yet haven’t built enough web revenue to close the gap on lost print dollars. It’s democratization again; once online, news outlets compete with everyone else on the web for ad dollars and it’s no longer enough to send sales reps to every business and agency in town to exact the formerly customary pound of flesh. Advertisers now have the same limitless choices as media consumers, plus a long-standing bad taste in their mouth from the extortionary tactics previously employed by daily newspapers and the Yellow Pages. It’s a big mess, that’s for sure. High-quality local news coverage is an absolute must in every community. On the other hand, a long-term soft retail economy and broader competition for ad dollars has local news organizations stuck between a rock and an even harder rock. So, what’s the answer? I’m just one small publisher and I can’t solve all of the world’s problems – I can barely even keep up with my own stuff. But I have seen a few agile publishers here in Milwaukee do some pretty smart things to connect with their constituencies. The Small Business Times was started in 1995 by a group of Business Journal expatriates […]
Apr 1st, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
VITAL’s 2008 – 2009 Spring Fine Arts Season Preview
By Jon Anne Willow and Lindsey Huster Spring brings a sea change in our fair city. Longer days, warmer nights and anticipation of the summer’s inherent ease all conspire to turn the tide of a particularly grueling winter. Yes, change is in the air in so many ways. From the White House to Wall Street and the Calatrava to Canal Street, seismic shifts in management, economics and principles are destined to affect us all in the foreseeable future. We have so much as consumers of local culture to keep track of with this ascent of the mercury.The Milwaukee Art Museum recently welcomed Daniel Keegan to the helm as Executive Director, replacing the highly successful and sometimes controversial <>b>David Gordon. He brings a love of new technology and multimedia to MAM; expect to tap into a guided tour from your cell phone, download a podcast about the latest exhibit and engage with your collection in new ways. Up the road and a few blocks from the lake, Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra Music Director Andreas Delfs conducts his last season (and the MSO’s 50th) as Edo de Waart prepares to take the helm. By reputation, de Waart’s choices tend to be riskier and more contemporary than his predecessor. He also comes with an extensive collection of recordings, so look for MSO performances to be more readily available for download or CD purchase. This month he’ll conduct his first concert for the MSO, Holst’s The Planets, on April 18. The performance includes space exploration video footage provided by the Jet Propulsion Lab and NASA. Milwaukee gets another dose of fame from the MSO with new Pops conductor Marvin Hamlisch.He’s one of only two people in history to win an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, a Tony and the Pulitzer Prize, not to mention a clutch of Golden Globes. On the funding and advocacy side, funding powerhouse Christine Harris, formerly President of UPAF, steps into a parallel role at the Milwaukee Cultural Alliance. Her UPAF shoes were filled by former Journal Sentinel Inc. VP Christy GarciaThomas, who brings media savvy and a strong background in sales and marketing to her new role. Both will try to shake the money tree to ensure ongoing funding for a city with incredibly rich and diverse cultural offerings. There are other changes, of course. Some have gone unreported, some are less glamorous in print but of equal impact in their own way. As a loosely defined collective, the arts face their own sea change. Technology is changing the way we interact with art; a slow economy could change the way current and prospective arts consumers consider discretionary spending. On the upside, the increasing sophistication of local audiences and an ever-more conducive environment for ambitious young artists to produce – and market – quality performances on a small budget bodes well for the health of our vibrant artistic scene. We’re also blessed with unparalleled generosity in private and corporate support of the arts for groups of all sizes and stripes. […]
Apr 1st, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
Then I looked up
Yesterday I had an anti-epiphany. At least I think that’s what it was; I’ve never had one before and I’m not sure about the correct term for what I experienced. Epiphanies are big realizations or sudden flashes of inspiration. What I experienced was more like suddenly remembering something obvious I used to know and shouldn’t have forgotten. I was driving to pick up my sister and then my oldest daughter to do a little shopping for my wedding in June. I was thinking about table decorations and desserts and dresses and what we would do for dinner later when it occurred to me that it’s been awhile since I’d driven down the street thinking about shopping and dinner – and nothing else. It felt great. Normal. To celebrate, I turned the radio from NPR to a Top 40 station and started singing. Loudly. Now I imagine everyone goes through similar periods in their lives. One minute you’re routinely thinking about Saturday night or what color you’d like to paint your kitchen; the next it’s all very serious. Money. Health. Family crises. Career. Relationships. Sometimes everything at once. And before you know it, a year has passed – or maybe two – since you cared about your garden or what’s happening in your neighborhood, let alone the world. At 41, this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve been absorbed by matters of personal gravity, but what I didn’t take note of in the past is the actual process of returning to normalcy after heavy times. Then again, maybe I didn’t used to need a formal process. Probably I’m less resilient now in some ways than when I was younger, and therefore more conscious of what I’d like to avoid re-experiencing in the future. Remember how there was a time when you could fall in love easily, then have your heart broken and almost immediately do it all over again with equal abandon? Yikes. I’m madly in love with my fiancé, but getting to know each other contained elements of a job interview that I would once have found deeply disturbing. While chemistry was definitely a factor, neither of us dropped the reins until we were solid with each other’s personal resumes – from work ethic to parenting style. It was a first for both of us, and awkward in a few spots, but in the end we’re definitely better together for knowing and accepting each other up front. There are lots of things you can’t control – like, for example, who you meet – but you can control how much you engage with that person. It’s a model that can be extended across many parts of one’s life, and to good purpose. (I’m sorry if you already know this, but since this is my column I can only write from personal experience. Thanks for your patience as I work to catch up.) Which comes back around to coming back around. It’s so easy to lose yourself when life becomes intense, but […]
Mar 1st, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
You don’t get a medal for showing up
At VITAL, our new year begins in February. I’d like to thank everyone once again for their support. It used to be a thrill just to write the rent check that proved we weren’t just a home office vanity project; as we’ve matured, though, my view of this whole endeavor has evolved. I have a thousand examples, but it all comes down to one idea, perfectly put by Thomas Jefferson: “I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it.” I now understand that our willingness to work our asses off is ultimately the reason we’re still here, far more than any visionary thinking or single lucky break. I was born in the ‘60s and influenced by both my grandparents’ work ethic and my father’s disdain for it (to be fair, he got over it later in life). Some of my peers joined Generation X. The rest of us went to work. Mine is the generation that brought about both the ubiquity of cocaine-derived drugs and many of the amazing technological advances that shape our world. The two extremes are actually closely related, both born of an inherent relentlessness, a desire to always move at the greatest possible speed, freed from barriers – of fatigue, social awkwardness, geography, even time itself. I’m not saying this is an entirely wonderful way to look at life; the socio-cultural fallout may not be fully measured in my lifetime. Even so, the ‘80s and ‘90s were a gas, a wild ride followed by a hard crash when the middle class economy slowed way down in the first years of the 21st century. But even before that I think there was collective pause, fueled in part by the regret of our parents, now missing the grandkids a thousand miles away, who saw what had become of their latchkey, Kraft dinner-consuming, Alex P. Keaton-channeling offspring. We had it all, but we traded too much to get it. The solution was clear: the next generation would be cared for with a vengeance. Sometime in the late 20th century, the desire to give one’s children “more” took on a new meaning: with the highest percentage of “affluent” Americans in our history, the trappings of attainment took on a nurturing mantle. It was the dawn of the age of the Soccer Mom, the bicycle helmet and the mentality that reasoning was a viable parenting philosophy. I admit it; I was initially swept into the new world order. My kid had a sticker chart that he filled up by performing such amazing feats as picking up his clothes and saying thank you. He actually earned toys for meeting the minimum expectations of socialization! But eventually, I saw what I, his teachers, his soccer coach and the rest of his network of support had wrought: a kid who expected to be rewarded for taking out the garbage. He’s a good boy: naturally nice, smart and funny. On the surface, he looks like […]
Feb 1st, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
Naked is a state of mind
2007 was quite a year. It’s a true and complete summary, and pretty much expresses the one universal aspect of the passage of the twelve month period we’ve culturally agreed spans a calendar cycle. The events themselves were for me,as for you, momentous in ways, predictable in others. Periods of unbelievable chaos intermingled with bouts of monotony and fits of restlessness. And like you, I grew in ways and probably shrank in others. Also like you, I learned a few things and remembered a few I’d forgotten (to my detriment) and which, like thousands of other unimaginative columnists and bloggers reflecting on the old year and projecting for the new, I will share with you now in list form. Living on your own terms is better than lots of money. It truly is, unless money alone is how you set the terms. When you’re happy and you know it, then your face will really show it. People respond to positive vibrations, of course they do. Strangers smile at you, old men chat you up at the hardware store, kids and dogs climb all over you (but not cats – they’re consistently drawn to whoever doesn’t like them). Don’t fake it, though. That’s creepy and easy to identify. Speak your mind when you have the chance. I learned this one the hard way, with a now-former dear friend. By the time I was honest about my fears for her, it was too late. I was already irrelevant. Save your change. A lot of people already know this, but I came late to the game. Naked is a state of mind. This is possibly the most interesting thing I learned this year, when we published last month’s holiday cover featuring a beautiful young woman clad only in snow and a big red ribbon. Most folks loved the playfulness of it, though a few were concerned that we were objectifying women (Incidentally, we’re almost all women over here). Some mused (including two other publishers – go figure!) that we might have done it to sell more ads: a crazy idea, as anything vaguely risqué in Milwaukee tends to scare away more advertisers than it attracts. I’ve taken the liberty of showing, through a sloppy application of Photoshop, that she’s actually less naked than if she were wearing a bikini. We got almost halfway through the month before the crazies started weighing in, but I guess it was inevitable. The one below is my favorite. Needless to say, fisher8624 never wrote back. I’ll leave you with it, as well as my response. VS —–Original Message—– From: fisher8624@yahoo.com Subject: Your Nude Cover FYI – a whole army of good upright people are taking stacks of your magazine with the nude cover and throwing them in the nearest trash can. STOP SPREADING PORN !!! We do not live in the backwoods of Africa where people run around with nothing on !! Your cover people may have such uncivilized tendencies but most of our society is civilized […]
Jan 1st, 2008 by Jon Anne Willow
Learning to Fly
There will be parties and openings. There will be better, more informed coverage of and commentary on local culture from the ground up, ramping up our website so we can bring you even more new stuff all month long. And starting with this issue, we’re commissioning our covers for at least the next year. Each will feature original artwork created just for VITAL by some of the city’s most talented painters, illustrators and photographers. It may or may not be related to anything inside the book; it’s a canvas, not a story illustration. And it’s pretty damn exciting.
Dec 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
We’ve got to help Alan Keyes
Typically I don’t read every political email I receive anymore than I pore over my spam, but sometimes a subject line catches my attention. Recently, Alan Keyes was excluded from a Fox News-sponsored Florida GOP debate on the premise that he didn’t have the required 1% straw poll vote, even though the Iowa Poll allegedly had him at 2% just a week after he entered the race. Turns out, none of the polls used by the Florida GOP included Keyes’ name. Granted, they may have been taken before he declared his candidacy, but he’s in the race now and everybody knows it, even if his only true role ends up being to keep arch-conservative Christian issues in the debate. Keyes’ people sounded off, launching an email campaign to barrage Florida GOP chair Jim Greer with complaints. This morning I received another email from the Keyes campaign. He was recently excluded from the Family Research Council’s Values Voter Summit, reportedly because he entered the race too late to be included. His staff, however, cites that attendee Fred Thompson entered the race barely a week before Keyes. Most top tier candidates were there – unlike the Values Voter Debate held in September, where Keyes came in just behind Ron Paul and Mike Huckabee in a field absent Giuliani, Thompson and McCain. Keyes’ camp acknowledges that political event organizers have the right to invite (or not) anyone they choose, but that groups like the FRC are lying when they claim to invite ALL candidates. In the run-up, Keyes, clearly a candidate, didn’t get his invitation in the mail and when his camp called to see if it was lost, they were told that he simply wasn’t asked to participate. It seems a little sad to picture them all sitting around the office waiting for the mail and then calling the FRC, only to learn that they weren’t invited. I imagine their initial incredulity, followed by quickly rising ire and a subsequent email blast bitch-slapping the FRC, perhaps fired off in anger in the middle of the night. At the end of the day, I don’t really care about Alan Keyes’ candidacy. And it amuses me that I know so much about his campaign through official emails that dish dirt in that whiny, sanctimonious tone to which my ears have been deaf since I was a teenager tuning out my mom over dirty clothes on the floor. My first response is to tease Keyes for his picked-on demeanor and holier-than-all posturing, but in fact his situation reveals chilling political truths. Prior to the advent of email as the political machine’s communication tool of choice, citizens had to rely on the media to report stories of exclusion, favoritism and other abuses of power in a reportedly inclusive system. In Keyes’ case, there’s little chance his story would have gotten much play – he’s the quintessential fringe candidate. But by his ability to communicate with me directly, I am informed firsthand of ways in which his […]
Nov 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
A matter of perspective
By Blaine Schultz, Jon Anne Willow and Kenya Evans + Photos by Kat Jacobs and Erin Landry In planning this story, we originally set out to pair young musicians with seasoned veterans and see what kind of school would be in session as a result. But what happened instead was vastly more interesting: organic dialogue stemming from a common love. What follows are three interviews with six musicians penned by three writers. The questions for each were different, as were the settings and interview styles. But the messages overlap, intertwine and paint a bigger picture of what it takes to live one’s passion. From creative process to overcoming jadedness to living with your choices, these six musicians laid it all out. Very special thanks to the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music for opening their doors for the photo shoots for this story. You’ll find more incredible images in our gallery at vitalsourcemag.com. —Jon Anne Willow Peder Hedman and Jason Mohr By Blaine Schultz + Photo by Erin Landry It is a too-warm September evening in Jason Mohr’s backyard, but nobody’s complaining. Bug spray and citronella candles help, but this year’s crop of mosquitoes arrived late and hungry. In a far-ranging conversation that spans Mohr’s thoughts on how a songwriter may be unconsciously predicting his own future to Hedman’s take on what it means to keep a band together when domestic realities come to the fore, it was never really obvious that two decades separate this pair of Milwaukee musicians. A common point of reference for both guitar mavens is the Maestro Echoplex, a vintage analog tape echo unit. Hedman brought to the interview a Stylophone, a gizmo he picked up at Value Village. The crude, handheld synthesizer may be best known as the instrument that plays the solo on David Bowie’s “Space Oddity.” The Peder Hedman Quartet is in the final stages of self-releasing Don’t Fall Down; Mohr’s group, Juniper Tar, is nearly ready as well with the provisionally-titled Free Bird. Both bands begin with interesting songs and then subtly warp them to their own needs. And make no mistake, the musicians who collaborate with Hedman and Mohr are as talented and beyond ordinary as you will find. “Take a look at this, the first press I ever got,” Hedman says, setting an age-yellowed copy of the Crazy Shepard on the table. The 1982 article profiles the Null Heirs, accompanied by a grainy black and white photo. Since then, bassist Mike Frederickson went on to form The Moseleys and play bass with Robbie Fulks; keyboardist John Duncan played with Gear Daddy Martin Zellar (and Tiny Tim); Kent Mueller ran the late KM Art. Hedman played in Liquid Pink, then Tweaker, which landed him down south for years. It’s a sharp contrast to Mohr’s less than a decade of band experience, highlighted by an EP with his previous group, Telectro. “If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it … well, I’m making my mark,” Hedman says of his […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
Chris Abele
‘Chris Abele’ and ‘Argosy’ may draw blank stares from the average Joe or Jane; ask a local arts supporter, though, and you’ll get a knowing nod. Abele is the 41-year-old head of the Argosy Foundation, established by his father John, co-founder of Boston Scientific, in 1997. The foundation moved from Boston to Milwaukee, where Chris was alerady living, in 2003. Since then, he has generously given his own time and money here and nationwide, supporting the work of groups like Planned Parenthood and the Boys and Girls Club and making appearances at political functions around the world. The Argosy Foundation supports the arts, but its broader mission is to improve the human condition through better access to healthcare, education initiatives for children, environmental protection, improving public safety and more. In the interest of full disclosure, Chris Abele is VITAL’s only financial investor to date, having purchased a (very) minority share of the magazine several years ago. Since then he has made himself scarce, letting us do things however we see fit. He says it’s his way of supporting something he believes in strongly – the enduring relevance of a diverse media. How did the arts become a focus for you? The arts have been part of my life as long as I can remember, largely because I was fortunate enough to grow up in a family who provided plenty of opportunities to experience and learn about music, theater, dance and visual art, [and] shared their passion for it. Our family has supported various arts groups for as long as I can remember. My personal involvement started with the Museum of Fine Art in Boston, but has developed into far more here in Milwaukee. What do you hope to achieve with your contributions of money and time in the arts community? For the groups themselves, I hope to encourage them to strive for ambitious goals; one aspect of Milwaukee that I love is a temperament of relative understatement, which can sometimes mistranslate into diminished expectations of just how much we can achieve and how high we can aim. I would love to see a greater level of pride and celebration of some of the great art that does happen here. For the city writ large, I would love to help people realize just how much we have here and foster a more collective understanding that a life without art is a life deeply diminished. Why is it important to foster the arts at the local level? Our foundation supports arts nationally and internationally, but we are headquartered here in Milwaukee and we believe that part of good corporate citizenship is support for the local community. Personally, I think we have a better arts scene than many people outside Milwaukee imagine, and I’m very excited about how much it continues to grow. What do you consider your greatest achievement as an arts supporter? I’m not sure if it’s for me to declare anything in particular a “great achievement” but I feel good […]
Sep 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
Your papers, please
In August, Lucky and I went to Monterey, California, to visit our dad. We had an amazing time driving the coastal highway through Big Sur, picnicking on a friend’s private beach and cooking like the three of us were still the big Italian family we grew up with. But it wasn’t all just for a lark. My dad’s been sick since last fall, though he didn’t tell us until recently, and all of us are starting to think about the impending “future.” Lucky and I saw my dad in a new light this time: no longer entirely the Pacino-channeling, devastatingly charming, problem-fixing free spirit we grew up with, the man who met us at the door this time was a little too thin, with pure white hair and a big smile that caught me off guard with its open expression of joy at our arrival. In many ways, I like this man better. He’s mortal at last, which probably clears the road for both Lucky and I to look at ourselves and the people we choose in a more realistic way. And even if you’re not into psychoanalysis (sadly, I think it might be a blossoming obsession of my own middle age), it was so nice to be able to really talk to him without the layers of external image that have previously defined him for us. We traveled on relatively short notice, so to save almost $200 per ticket we chose to land in San Jose, then rent a car and drive the 90 minutes to Monterey. For those who’ve never experienced the pleasure of SJC firsthand (though I should note that a renovation is underway), the terminal is the size of a postage stamp and equally useful to air travelers. There’s one bathroom past the secured area – and by that I mean ONE unisex, one-toilet bathroom serving hundreds of people at all times. There’s no place past security to buy water or anything else (and as in airports everywhere, you can’t bring it in with you); there’s one tiny “food court” near the main entrance and it’s a fairly long bus ride to the understaffed rental car building. Needless to say, the security lines were looong, winding the equivalent of several city blocks when we entered the queue to catch our ride back to Milwaukee. We had plenty of time to chat up our fellow travelers, but when the novelty of that wore off after about five minutes, I daringly made eye contact with an attractive black woman in a sharp navy blazer and impossibly well-tailored khakis. She was in a kiosk, positioned under a sign that read “Now You Can Fly Through Airport Security.” The woman was stylishly hawking Clear, a pay service that allows member travelers to expedite airport security checks by whisking through Clear’s own “designated security lane with special benefits,” bypassing the teeming masses and leaving plenty of time to make gratuitous cell phone calls at the gate while waiting for everyone else. […]
Sep 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
