2003-12 Vital Source Mag – December 2003
The Fags
By Brian Barney THE FAGSThe FagsIdol Recordswww.thefagsmusic.com Stumbling across the vast wasteland of CD wreckage that has become my desk as a music writer, I happened upon a true gem. The cover of The Fags self-titled freshman effort on Idol Records sports a fashionably androgynous being smoking a cigarette (or fag) that would prompt an “I gotta hear this one” out of almost anyone. And, after a good couple dozen listens, I’ll wager this: if they are not drowned in the sea of anonymity, or ultimately eaten alive by the monster that is the record business, The Fags could be pop rock’s next big thing. From the first cut, “Truly, Truly,” the listener is drawn in by hooks that embed themselves in the brain. Standout tracks include “Hitman” and “List” (the record’s definite high point), where soaring vocals, hard-barking guitars and smart harmonies show incredible depth in what might normally be considered shallow waters. Love songs about girls unobtainable, viable or no longer wanted have broken no new lyrical ground since “Maybelline,” but it’s hard not to hum along and reminisce with chorus lines that are the crux of every teenager (or teenager at heart)’s lost logic defined in these three minute diddies. The only shortcoming here is… it’s too damn short! Being an EP with eyes no doubt trained on landing the big deal, the Detroit trio has obviously put their best foot forward. If you don’t reside in the Motor City, where The Fags are still pounding it out as local heroes (this applies to most of you), your best device to put yourself behind the wheel of this little beauty is to cruise online to www.thefagsmusic.com and place your order. ‘Cuz you won’t find it around here.
Dec 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
We Laughed, We Cried
Brainstorming December story ideas in a recent Vital staff meeting, one person told a story about a holiday moment that stayed with him. Eventually, almost everyone took a turn. As the saying goes, we laughed, we cried. It occurred to us that most folks have at least one stand-out moment from the time of year dubbed simply “the holidays.” At some point (no doubt after at least two adult beverages), someone suggested we put our memories down on paper and share them with our readers. “Over-sharing violation!” cried one man. “What if we don’t have a happy/childhood/holiday memory?” queried others. But in the end, we decided that if one story could spark a dozen more, then perhaps a dozen could be a catalyst for thought, if not conversation, about this most auspicious (or at least emotionally charged) time of the year. So here they are. Some are nostalgic, some warm and fuzzy. Others are sad. But all are personal and, in that sense, universal. Happy holidays and hope for peace in the New Year. From all of us. Alex — Writer Every spring my Father, my sister and I would drive down to Chicago to celebrate Passover at my grandparents’ house. They would take out the extra extensions to the table so it could fit 17 people around. What I remember most was the break after the first part of the service. All the kids would scram off to the bedrooms. Like a football team at kick-off, we would jump on my grandparents’ bed and tackle the pillows. I think you know the rest. The adults stayed at the table leaning on the back two legs of their chairs, talking politics. The more they would drink, the further they would lean back, and the redder their faces would get. Erin — Sales Assistant I’ll always remember spending the day of Christmas Eve with my ten cousins at my grandparents’ home. As the youngest, I was the official household pet. Amy and Lisa brushed my hair until my four-year-old impatience made me run to find grandpa, slouched in his brown rocking chair, with a can of Schlitz and a cousin settled in his lap. My brother Jeremy and cousin Andy would give me noogies and grandma let me mash the potatoes before dinner — made by a woman who never counted calories and based food’s worthiness on taste alone. We still gather for Christmas Eve, but after twenty years the cousins are scattered, flying in from Los Angeles, Vermont, and even Taiwan. Two are married, one is lost to suicide and grandpa is no longer in his brown rocking chair. When we meet, there are so many hugs and kisses, so many “guess what’s?” and pictures shared, that the distance between us the other 364 days of the year seems insignificant. The best present I could ask for is the indelible bond of my family. Frizell — Staff Writer A Christmas memory that stands out in my mind was the year […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
December 2003
Dear Readers, This is such an emotionally charged time of year. Colder weather, increased contact with family, insane schedules, and the pressures of our consumer economy settle themselves like a weight onto the shoulders of many. Depending on who you are, and/or where you are in your life, you might be heading towards a rush of anticipation, reflection, hope, stress, financial worry, love, antipathy or dread as the holidays approach. Or maybe all of them together. This is the season when I most wish I was a kid again. I grew up three decades ago in a small town in Iowa. Most of the year, we were the least conventional family in town. My mom was a divorced woman who owned her home, which she bought herself, even though it meant she made most of our clothes and doomed us to subsidized hot lunch at school. True to our activist roots, we were part of the “underground railroad” for objectors fleeing to Canada to avoid going to Viet Nam. Behind the water heater in the basement was a cot with a trunk next to it, on which sat a small lamp and an alarm clock. It wasn’t unusual for me as a five year old to enter the kitchen in the morning to find a tired-looking young man I’d never seen gulping coffee and eggs, on his way to the next place. The neighbors thought horrible things about my mom and her cavalcade of “male friends.” But what could she say in her own defense? It was from her example that I learned to keep secrets. At Christmas time, however, you’d have thought we sprang straight from a Rockwell postcard. Some of my dearest childhood memories are of painting wooden ornaments for our tree, making paper chains and listening to holiday music before bed, curled up on the couch with a cup of eggnog, the room illuminated only by the lights on the tree. I remember the thrill of opening the door to carolers, neighbors come to call. Despite their year-long suspicion of us, they didn’t skip our house, and we invited them in for chocolate and cookies, with something stronger for the grownups. Even as a kid, I could sense something about people getting along because of the holiday. I hope I can pass that on to my son, not just at the holidays, but all the time. In truth, people have more in common than in difference. And while I try to live and work according to my beliefs, I am not a friend of meaningless divisiveness. It’s such a waste of energy, and you miss out on the caroling. Speaking of memories, we all got to yakking at a recent staff meeting, and ended up spinning our own holiday/family yarns for each other. We ended up deciding to share them with everyone in this issue, and we hope you like them. On the other hand, you can skip over that piece if it’s not your cup of […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Jon Anne Willow
Christmas in Iraq
By Megan Furcolow Christmas Eve: Christian families gather and hold lighted candles while one of the children reads aloud about the birth of Jesus. After the reading, everyone sings over a bonfire of thorn bushes — if the thorns burn to ashes, it will bring good luck in the coming year. When the fire dies, each person jumps over the ashes three times while making a wish. Christmas Day: As another bonfire burns in the churchyard, the bishop leads the service while carrying a figure of the baby Jesus. He blesses one person with a touch. That person touches the next person, and the touch is passed around until all have felt the “touch of peace.” — Chaldean Christmas tradition In the Cradle of Civilization Between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers lies Baghdad, a city of five million people. Iraq itself is a country of twenty-three and a half million, of whom about five percent, or one and three-quarters million, are Christian. It may come as a surprise, but under Saddam Hussein’s regime, Christians enjoyed a measure of religious freedom not often found in the rest of the region. Five percent is enough to support six major Christian denominations in Iraq, and several smaller ones. The largest is the Chaldean Church of the East, a Catholic sect believed to have been founded by St. Thaddeus, who is credited with spreading Christianity to Mesopotamia, India and China. The Holy Apostolic and Catholic Assyrian Church of the East have written records dating to the late second and even first century, the time of the Apostles. The Syriac Orthodox church is another ancient denomination, and is believed to have been founded by the Apostle Peter in Antioch in 37 A.D. There is also the Syriac Catholic Church, founded by Syriac Orthodox Christians who reconciled with Rome in 1781; the Armenian Orthodox Church, and a small grouping of Protestant denominations. In Baghdad alone, there are forty-seven Christian churches of various denominations. At least thirty of the forty-seven were built after the Baath Party took power in Iraq in 1963. Before the Baaths, there were no Syriac churches — now there are six. In the same window of time, the number of Chaldean Catholic churches nearly tripled. Clearly the secularism of the Baathist regime did allow Christians to practice their faith with a freedom remarkable in that part of the world. Notably, only one Christian church (The Rising) was built in Bagdahd after the U.S. imposed sanctions in 1991. Christmas Past Christians in Iraq have been politically prominent. Saddam Hussien’s Foreign Minister, familiar to Americans as Tariq Aziz, is a Chaldean Catholic who was born Michael George Yohanna. On the other side of the fence are Christian Iraqis like Mowfaq Fattohi of the opposition Iraqi National Congress. Under Saddam, a walk down the streets of a shopping district in Baghdad in December might have closely mirrored its western counterparts. Christmas decorations, including nativity scenes, were seen in shops, restaurants and hotels. And Saddam reportedly sometimes […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Ryan Adams
RYAN ADAMS Rock N Roll Love Is Hell, Pt. 1 Lost Highway www.ryan-adams.com So this new Ryan Adams album is called Rock N Roll — the title’s printed and spelled backwards on the artwork, presumably as a symbolic gesture — because it features a lot of, y’know, rock ‘n’ roll. And this new Ryan Adams EP is called Love Is Hell, Pt. 1 — no spelling oddities here — because it’s one of two volumes of stuff that’s less, y’know, rock ‘n’ roll. Anyway, Rock N Roll will satisfy anyone who wants to buy a rock-related collection this year (just in time for Christmas!): it features about half a late-period Replacements album, complete with Paul Westerberg-like fragility and self-laceration. There are bonus representations of U2 (“So Alive” ), T. Rex (“Shallow” ), the Cars (“Burning Photographs” ) and myriad other familiar stylistic variations of the last 30 years. No heavy metal, which is a plus. Gets better when cranked louder, also a plus. Sure, it’s undermined by the same absence of coherent personality that made 2001’s Gold such an Elton John favorite. But Love Is Hell nourishes the introspection Adams seemed determined to starve after he disbanded Whiskeytown, and brings his songwriting to the fore: “Political Scientist” and “This House Is Not For Sale” accent details and shades, and even the Oasis chestnut “Wonderwall” benefits from the nuance. Balance the EP and the LP, and Ryan Adams could be the next Jeff Tweedy. All he needs is a kick in the teeth of his ego.
Dec 1st, 2003 by Jon Gilbertson
In Search of An Agenda
By John Hughes In recent months, Vital Source has been asking what we feel are four pertinent questions of nine candidates for Mayor of Milwaukee. Readers have had a chance to get a sense of the field, and the widely divergent styles and orientations of the would-be mayors. As the election now draws within just a few short months, and interest in the future of Milwaukee intensifies, we complete our survey with the same four questions, this time posed to mayoral candidate Leon Todd. Vital Source attempted to contact outgoing Milwaukee Police Chief Arthur Jones, but he declined to respond. Mr. Todd, a member of the Greater Milwaukee Green Party, has served on the Milwaukee School Board for a total of 12 years. He was Director of Public and Community Relations at Northwest General Hospital in Milwaukee, and Director of Sales and Marketing at the Rexnord Corporation’s Data Systems Division. He is also a former MPS School Board member. Holder of two Master’s degrees and one Post-Master’s degree in Urban Education, Mr. Todd is married, and the father of four grown children. He joins Tom Barrett, Vincent Bobot, David Clarke, Frank Cumberbatch, Sandy Folaron, Martin Matson, Tom Nardelli, John Pitta, and Marvin Pratt on the list of people whose thoughts have graced our pages. Mr. Todd answered our questions, and offered eleven additional pages of thoughts on a wide range of subjects. 1. What specific steps will you take to make the police chief more accountable to the people of Milwaukee? Eliminate the Police and Fire Commission and have the Police Chief report directly to the mayor. The Police and Fire Commission serve the political purpose of buffering the mayor from public accountability for the actions of the Police Chief. We must take the Harry Truman “The Buck Stops Here” [here being the mayor’s office] approach to Police Department accountability. The mayor must work with the Police Chief and not scapegoat that person and the crime issue for the mayor’s own political advantage. 2. To what extent is racism an ongoing issue in this city? How will you address it? It is a big issue. Just ask those races and ethnic groups who carry a 60-70 percent unemployment rate in the city. Just look at Wisconsin’s number one standing in the rate of incarceration of African Americans. Just look at the color of those who are doing the construction work on Capitol Drive and then look at the color of the majority of the residents, despite all of the hollow talk about Community Benefits Agreements. A lot of racism is generated from city hall when politicians play the race card for their self-serving politics. Race card politics governs a lot of public policy from city hall and has to stop. My wife and I are an interracial couple and as such we are stakeholders in leading this city to color blind stature. We have four interracial children, all of whom are successful products of MPS. 3. Is that algae or […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Sarah McLachlan
SARAH McLACHLAN Afterglow Arista www.sarahmclachlan.com When Sarah McLachlan disappeared half a decade ago, it wasn’t the artistic equivalent of Patti Smith’s retirement, but in hindsight it helped to clear the way for the Parade of Candy-Striped Sluts. In the meantime, too, her adult-contemporary niche was subdivided (“Here’s your slice, Alicia; here’s yours, Norah…” ), which meant theoretically that her return would need to be a lot splashier than her departure. Nothing ruins a beautiful theory more completely than an inconvenient fact: Afterglow is a ripple. Six years after Surfacing hinted, strongly, at McLachlan’s creative stasis, the follow-up almost realizes that nullity. Recorded over the last three years, these ten songs obviously needed time and patience to reach a zero-g level of taste, restraint and caution. Compared to the musical gangbangs of Pink or Aguilera, McLachlan does gain the advantage of intimacy. Her voice remains a sure comfort, tuneful and lush and womanly. Yet McLachlan refuses to push or prod her gift; she holds it back at all times. The music, which craves her guidance, thus walks or floats behind her at a respectful distance. Surely no one wants McLachlan to move toward the false climaxes of Mariah Carey, but on Afterglow she recedes into such pillowy blandness that references to heartbreak, to unease, to drinking away pain, contain as much emotional impact as the fourteenth long high note at a Barbra Streisand concert. Sarah McLachlan might as well not have come back, because Afterglow practically erases itself as it plays.
Dec 1st, 2003 by Jon Gilbertson
Jimmy Leroy, Mall Mascot
By Alexander Ragir Jimmy LeRoy was there when the black-haired lady and her boyfriend left Bayshore mall and got on the bus. They stole a bra and pantyhose from Victoria’s Secret, and he saw it. “I knew something was wrong,” says Jimmy, scratching his head and dropping his hand over his face as if very embarrassed. “There was something very suspicious.” He first radioed it in, and then used his cell phone, given to him for emergencies by employees of the mall, to call the police. “I was brave. How’s that?” He stutters. “I was really brave. What about that?” Or at least this is how Jimmy remembers it. Jimmy is 65 years old and developmentally disabled. His heart outweighs his mind the way his smile is easier to understand than what he says. His mother died when he was 60, so now he lives alone. He wears sneakers and flannel shirts and has clear blue eyes. Employees and shoppers at Bayshore Mall take care of him, and Jimmy takes care of them. Jimmy’s favorite girl(s). “I’ve known Jimmy since the store opened 17 years ago,” says Patti Aversa, owner of the family-owned women’s clothing store, Aversa. “He is the mall mascot.” “She’s my favorite girl,” says Jimmy, putting his hand over his face again and smiling, exposing dentures that desperately need cleaning, “my favorite one.” “Jimmy, you need to shave better and brush your hair.” “I know,” Jimmy says with a sneaky look. “She’s like my sister.” “He has lots of sisters, don’t let him fool you.” Jimmy grabs her hand and gives it a kiss. “That’s the closest he gets to kissing me. Why are you showing off, Jimmy?” Jimmy nods and scratches his head nervously. Jimmy keeps himself busy at the mall. He gets the employees coffee, watches the kiosk while the employees use the bathroom, rides his bike around the parking lot looking for people who look suspicious, escorts women who carry purses and, most of all, keeps people company. “If I wasn’t here, the whole mall would collapse,” he says as he walks hastily toward Walgreen’s. “I have to be somewhere.” Jimmy takes his patrolling seriously. He’s also a serious flirt. “Hey Jimmy,” says a young brown-haired Alterra employee. “Hey, hot lips,” says Jimmy. “How are you?” she asks. “Peachy, peachy, peachy,” says Jimmy, waving goodbye and moving on toward Walgreen’s. After greeting the cashiers, Jimmy walks up and down the middle of the store, looking down each aisle looking for shoplifters. He moves slowly and cautiously. The 007 of Bayshore Mall. Every day he patrols the parking lot, riding his bike up and down the aisles looking for anything unusual. Jimmy has four bikes, but for patrolling he likes to use Red Spirit or Green Dragon. Red Spirit is a Trek and “is tricky and can smell trouble.” Green Dragon has two mirrors and is good for scoping the parking lot he explains, as he points to his head and wrinkles his forehead. Blue […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
FluMist
By Lucky Tomaszek Many people are relieved to hear about the new FluMist vaccine. No one likes needles, and it seems the makers of FluMist are counting on that fact to convince consumers to buy. FluMist is the first influenza vaccine that is not a shot. It’s a nasal spray. One good dose up the nose and you’re protected for the whole winter. Or are you? Traditional flu shots are made from killed influenza virus, which cannot cause a case of influenza in either the recipient or anyone who comes in contact with the recipient. Killed viruses are considered safer, though shorter acting. In the case of the flu shot, this is not a disadvantage, because protection only needs to last for a year. By the following year, a new flu shot is available that is intended for whichever influenza strain is most prevalent. FluMist is a lot different from its first cousin, the annual flu shot. For starters, it’s not intended for use by the people who are normally urged to receive a flu vaccine, the elderly and the immuno-compromised. FluMist is being marketed for healthy people ages 5 to 49. That’s because it’s made from the live influenza virus, which could be harmful if given to someone who isn’t completely in the pink. Should you take it up the nose? As a matter of fact, the list of people who should not use FluMist is pretty long, and includes: toddlers; the elderly; anyone with eczema or asthma; people who are allergic to eggs; children and adolescents receiving aspirin therapy; people who have a history of Guillain-Barré syndrome; pregnant women, people with reactive airways disease, people on corticosteroids like Prednisone®, Medrol®; and obviously immuno-compomised people like cancer patients, people with HIV or AIDS, and organ recipients. There is additional concern about the FluMist vaccine precisely because it’s a nasal spray rather than an injection. Most people who have ever needed to take a nasal spray medication can tell you that it often leads to sneezing, sometimes repeated sneezing. When you’ve sprayed a live vaccine up your nose and you sneeze, the live vaccine is shot across the room at 100 miles per hour. This can be troublesome for anyone, but especially so for small children in school and people living with immuno-compromised family members. Dr. Sherri Tenpenny, D.O., President and Medical Director of the OsteoMed II clinic in Strongsville, Ohio, shares this concern: “One of the most troubling concerns over [FluMist] is the potential for the viruses to enter directly into the brain… The olfactory tract has long been recognized as a direct pathway to the brain. Intranasal injection of certain viruses has resulted in a serious brain infection called encephalitis… Time will tell whether the live viruses in FluMist will become linked to cases of encephalitis.” IF IT WALKS AND TALKS LIKE A DUCK… The reported side effects of the vaccine are also interesting to note. According to the FluMist package insert, 72�f adult recipients reported side effects […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Lucky Tomaszek
Measuring Mayor Norquist
By Raymond Johnson As the final term of Milwaukee Mayor Norquist comes to a close, it is time to assess his impact on the city. I’ll leave it to others more qualified to weigh his affect on property taxes or schools, on government efficiency or city services. Here, per the name, I will be concerned about the developing city. Perhaps nothing indicates the Mayor’s interest in these matters more than the next job he is taking. John O. Norquist will become the President and CEO of the Congress for the New Urbanism (CNU), a national advocacy organization dedicated to promoting good urban design. Mr. Norquist had served on the board of directors, and has shown supporters and skeptics alike the possibilities for using the principles of the CNU in existing cities. Perhaps the best way to understand the impact of his work is to look at some of the projects built on Mr. Norquist’s watch and assess their overall impact on the city. THE GOOD The Park East Freeway Demolition This has to be the apotheosis of Mr. Norquist’s tenure, bringing together key elements in his thesis on good urban design: freeways are bad for center cities because street grids are better movers of traffic; center cities are desirable because of their efficient access to people and markets; and government doesn’t need to subsidize private development. Sure, it will be a long time before it is ‘finished’, and we will probably get more than a few bad buildings, but if you love cities, this is about as good as it gets. The Riverwalk The Riverwalk is a close second to the Park East project. This is urbanism at its finest. Small-scale, pedestrian-oriented, and snaking through our city, the Riverwalk gives urban dwellers and visitors a different path through the city. Granted, its’ design, in places, is a bit pedestrian itself. The materials are sometimes cheap, the style retrograde, the details sloppy, and it often connects poorly with both the water and the city streets. But early mistakes lead to ongoing improvement. And really, the chief benefits of the Riverwalk are the improvements to our overall urban structure downtown: increased pedestrianism, new residences, shops and restaurants, and the reconnection of the city to its river. Third Ward Redevelopment The redevelopment of the Third Ward has been nothing short of amazing. Once an area of abandoned and underused storage buildings, the Third Ward is booming with loft conversions, new construction and restaurant and boutique openings. The overall street-scaping is of a decent muscular industrial style, in tune with the manufacturing history of the area. An amazing opportunity was missed when the area nixed a beautiful modern parking garage designed by Gastrau Furer Vogel Architects for the piece of junk you see standing on the corner of Water and Erie. This raises the question: as new construction pressures build, will the Third Ward build beautiful modern buildings to complement its beautiful existing ones? Time will tell. 6th Street Viaduct Until a few years […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
