2003-12 Vital Source Mag – December 2003
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
Living Without Santa
By Lucky Tomaszek One night in December of 1978, when I was 6 years old, I stayed up very late watching a toy drive on TV. As I gazed longingly at all the dolls and drums and toy trains piled up for needy children, the host announced the arrival of Santa Claus — he was coming to pick up the toys! I was so excited that I sat straight up on the couch to get a better look. “Ho Ho Ho!” shouted a deep voice, and I got goosebumps. I could hear him stomping onto the set and suddenly, there he was! He was tall and round, dressed in a red velvet suit with black boots. And he was African American. I watched in bewilderment as this jolly Santa picked up the collected toys and thanked the viewing audience for their generosity. The Truth comes out. The next morning, I had a million questions for my mom about the toy drive. I started with questions about the toys I had seen and who would be getting them. Then I said, “Why was Santa on TV black, and Santa at the mall white? How can he change his skin like that?” Then and there, she told me the whole truth, straight out, with no holds barred. I was devastated. I felt like the adults were pulling off the biggest conspiracy ever. I told my mom I needed to get to school right away and tell all of my friends The Truth. We were being lied to, and it had to stop. Mom explained that I really shouldn’t tell the other kids, as it would make them sad. I didn’t understand it — I was taught not to lie. And in our radical house, I was also taught to stand up for injustice and help others in need. In my kindergarten mind, explaining The Truth to all of the other kids was merely fulfilling what I was already seeing as my role in life. Despite her advice, my mom was called to pick me up early that day, but not until I’d broken the hearts of four or five of my classmates. The true meaning of Santa. As I started planning my own family, I knew I wanted Christmas in my house to be different from what I felt it had become for most Americans. At the time, I was in the middle of spiritual crisis, unsure of my beliefs regarding Christianity and the role of the holiday in our culture. As a long-time retail professional, I detested the shopping and the spending and the consuming. But I didn’t have my own set of beliefs around which to build a “new” holiday celebration. I was a little lost. My first baby was born in July of 1995 and I spent the next 5 months pondering how I was going to present Christmas to her. My husband and I exhaustively discussed the holiday and what message we really wanted her to take with […]
Dec 1st, 2003 by Lucky Tomaszek
