2008

The Watsons Go to Birmingham: 1963
The Watsons Go to Birmingham

1963

The “Brown Bomber,” a 1947 four door Plymouth sporting plenty of chrome, sits center stage amid the day to day family life portrayed in The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963. This world premiere play, adapted by Reginald Andre Jackson from the classic children’s book by Christopher Curtis Chapman, touches on America’s racial unrest in the 60’s. The first act takes place in Flint, Michigan, Chapman’s industrial hometown, and the Watson’s home life concerns sub-zero weather, welfare, school bullies and the discipline of their eldest son, “bad weather Byron.” Kenny, the story’s narrator, is a 10-year-old intellectual odd ball with a lazy eye and horn-rimmed glasses who frustrates Byron and his younger sister Joetta. When Byron refuses to learn from his continual mistakes, all five drive to Birmingham, home of their Grandma Sands, in an effort to get Byron on the right track. Protest marches and bombings in Birmingham’s streets during this time of social change show the significance of family and courage for people of any color. The set design is important for moving the action, especially the classic Brown Bomber, which rolls back and forth on half the stage. Once again, Kurt Schnabel’s imaginative lighting effects create excitement, especially in the second act. Yet the scene sequences move somewhat slowly, and the action is unclear or confusing at times, as the Birmingham cast appears slightly removed from the emotion in the play. But Jeremy Tardy as Byron creates a believably rebellious teenager, as does young Kelly Perry’s kindergartner, Joetta. The parents play a reduced roll in the production, letting the sibling rivalry between Kenny and Byron carry the script. It climaxes in the second act during Birmingham’s civil unrest, when the children ask “Why does hate eat them up?’ and “How’s these men hate negroes so much they could kill little girls in a church?” Whether in regards to the pivotal race riots of the 1960s or the violence still prevalent in 2008, these crucial questions warrant discussion after the performance, as these underlying issues remain timely in an increasingly diverse contemporary society. As Kenny displays courage in protecting his brothers and sisters, people of any ethnicity will appreciate the value of family, and the notion that every family demonstrates courage when they tackle problems together. Day to day rituals, including a belief system of faith, resonate through the performance as First Stage reminds audiences that family is indeed precious, even with their troubles – it’s a great comfort in life to be surrounded by, as Grandma Sands says, “My fambly, my beautiful, beautiful fambly.” VS First Stage Children’s Theater‘s production of The Watson Go to Birmingham – 1963 continues through February 15 at the Todd Wehr Theater, Marcus Center for the Performing Arts. 414.273.7206.

Berzerk!!!

Berzerk!!!

In the hours I spent watching the snow fall in Green Bay, I’d forgotten that the relatively quiet streets of Milwaukee’s East Side weren’t filled with snow. In something very much resembling a good mood, I caught the #15 bus to Bay View for my second evening of high-pressure theatre. I was headed to The Alchemist Theatre for Berzerk!!! — an evening of ten-minute plays presented by Alamo Basement and Insurgent Theatre. Last year’s event at the Turner Hall Ballroom had been an exceedingly good time, and I had no reason to think this year’s show would be any different. There were only a few people at the theatre’s bar when I got there, but a couple of beers into the evening, the place began to fill. Alamo Basement co-founder Mike Q. Hanlon introduced the sold-out show by way of explanation: for Berzerk!!!, Hanlon took lines from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and sent them to local playwrights, who were then given 10 self-enforced minutes to write a short script. Eleven shorts were performed by Insurgent and Alamo Basement cast members, mostly dressed in simple black. Two of the shows had been pre-selected for longer re-writes to be performed at the end of the show, and to complicate things further, during Hanlon’s introduction, a pair of playwrights worked alone on a pair of 10-minute shorts that would receive staged readings during the evening. The 15 shorts performed here were an interesting contrast to the show I’d seen the previous evening – Bunny Gumbo’s Combat Theatre. Combat Theatre is a different kind of theatre under pressure: playwrights pull a topic and a location out of hats. Twenty-four hours later, a series of shorts hit the stage. Everything involved in each of the eight productions must be completed in the same 24-hour period of time. The Bunny Gumbo shows tended to be light comedy sketches with a minimum of innovation. Berzerk!!! ranged from intense drama to absurdist comedy, in settings vague and abstract, clearly defined and realistic. Berzerk!!!’s diversity probably came form the process: playwrights worked alone on their own time before handing scripts over to Hanlon and company, who had a substantial amount of time to construct a dozen or so mini-productions. Perhaps working in a combative environment tends to produce sketch comedy the way a writer working alone tends to produce less predictable work. Maybe it’s just the writers that were available for each project. It’s all speculation from the outside, but Berzerk!!! seemed a lot edgier than the first night of Bunny Gumbo’s pleasantly commercial Combat Theatre. The show opened with one of the plays written during the opening monologue, a reasonably clever piece by Rex Winsome. Winsome’s near-comic over-emphasis on philosophy and politics was the basis for a unique tone. Taken too far, this could have come across like an empty gimmick, but Winsome’s voice was sharp enough to keep this from happening. Chelsea Bernard’s Marty and Maryann was a fun little domestic conversation rendered in respectably heavy […]

Arthur, The Boy Who Would Be King

Arthur, The Boy Who Would Be King

The legend of King Arthur goes so far back that historians aren’t in perfect agreement as to exactly when or where it may have originated. In the modern age, stories of the Arthurian legend have been adapted to film, television, comic books, ballets and even a couple of rock operas. The latest incarnation of the legend to hit local theatres is actor/playwright James DeVita’s Arthur, The Boy Who Would Be King, now playing at the Sunset Playhouse in Elm Grove. It’s a family show, written to be equally appealing to both children and parents. The resident playwright of First Stage Children’s Theatre, DeVita’s work here is an admirable adaptation of the old legends. Camelot is on the verge of collapse. Arthur is wracked with feelings of futility as everything he has worked for is falling apart. Merlin acts as a sort of Dickensian Christmas spirit, taking Arthur through his childhood into the dawn of Camelot and beyond. What unfolds isn’t exactly an inspired or insightful look into a story that’s been explored countless times, but it isn’t a tedious re-tread either. The cleverest moments in the script surround Merlin, a shadowy figure who has been a lot of fun for writers over the decades. DeVita realizes his wisdom with a kind of playfulness that keeps the play from becoming lost in its own drama. Some of this playfulness is competently captured here by Ed Carroll in the role of the wizard with the aid of lighting and other modest stage effects. The rest of the cast is big — really, really big. The Main Stage of the Sunset Playhouse is used to its fullest capacity here as thirty or more actors filter through the play, many of them children. Arthur and the other main characters are played by no less than thee actors each. Adult Arthur (Rick Richter) sees himself as a child (Stefano Romero) and an adolescent (Jon Van Gilder). Richter has all the presence of a King, with Romero and Van Gilder of appropriately less regal bearing as someone who was not at all noble until he drew a certain sword out of a certain stone. The play cycles through three distinct casts to represent different eras. As dramatic as this may seem, it feels quite natural, though it makes the full size of the cast feel less impressive than it would if everyone were playing a different character. The set by talented Sunset scenic artist J. Michael Desper is not as showy as might be expected, but the many bricks of the caste wall form a multi-tiered performance surface. It also serves as a nice space for the fight scenes choreographed by the Gene Schuldt. Shuldt’s great talent is normally evident, but here he’s working with a huge group of relatively inexperienced people, so it isn’t quite as show-stopping here. Like much of the rest of the production, the general immensity of things drowns out the power of the individual in a less than balanced production that […]

The riches of Ruin

The riches of Ruin

It’s impossible to ignore “Ruin,” an assemblage of 32 antique TV cabinets, stacked against the north wall on the main level of the Milwaukee Art Museum. The installation, by Nam June Paik, is part of Sensory Overload, a reinstallation of the contemporary art galleries which opens on January 24 and runs until 2009. Overload promises light, motion, sound and the optical in art since 1945, but I advise the wise to absorb it bit by bit, as if spearing peas from a TV dinner. I followed my own counsel and spent two hours sitting in front of “Ruin” watching 2-channel video flash and wink from the cabinets, mostly turned upside down so that their pedestals would serve as supports for the towering, pyramidal installation. This artist’s world is upside down; should you care to compare, Marquette University’s Haggerty Museum of Art has a Paik installation. “Ruin” would have been a perfect fit for the creepy otherworld of Blade Runner. It’s strangely robotic and detached, but the idea of television and all that the word implies remains highly personal. I grew up in a small town in rural Iowa, and I distinctly recall standing outside our local appliance store in the late 1940s, peering through the plate glass window with other folks who had gathered to see a genuine television set in action. It wasn’t long before we had one in our living room. The image on the screen was small, fuzzy and gray, which gave rise to much fiddling and twiddling with dials when we gathered as a family to watch one of the program. Was it Milton Berle? Show of Shows? It didn’t matter; television had come to our town and our house. It seemed important. Astounding! Even miraculous! Over the years, television became a fixture in homes everywhere – first just one, then maybe two or more. The bigger and flashier the television sets became, it seemed the content worth watching began to shrink. We scraped bottom when a recent televised political “debate” involved YouTube, a Bible and a question about Jesus. But I suppose I stuffed myself on As The World Turns, so who am I to criticize drek? While plopped in front of “Ruin 2001,” I engaged a trio of students from St. Louis who paused to peruse the blinking installation. They said they don’t watch television, but gave a good explanation of the intricacies of the 2-channel video system and moved closer to see if there was anything “familiar” in the loopy colorful images. “I think I just saw a Star of David flash by,” one of them remarked as he checked for messages on his cell phone. A group of chattering elementary school students led by a docent drifted in, barely giving Paik’s work a nod. I heard one of them ask what it was about, but before due consideration of the work was given, the herd moved on to the next dazzling thing. Perhaps one needs to be at least 40 years old […]

Peep Show

Peep Show

Peep Show Brooks Barrow Gallery Marshall Building (lower level) 207 E. Buffalo Jan. 11 – Jan. 16 414-331-8635 brooksbarrowgallery.com When the invitation arrived to attend Peep Show, an exhibit of photographs by ten students of University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee adjunct professor of photography Tom Bamberger, whose career includes impressive exhibits of his own work, plus a former position as adjunct curator of photography at the Milwaukee Art Museum, I was intrigued by the fact that he’s now a college professor. “Lucky kids,” was my first thought. Bamberger is a fully mature artist, and in many ways his teaching position is a hard won homecoming. After attending Boston University, he extended his credentials at UWM’s graduate school, where he pondered philosophy and taught mathematical logic. He writes thoughtfully about public art and architecture for Milwaukee Magazine and continues his career as a photographer (when Renatured opened the splendid Inova/Kenilworth building, Bamberger’s work enlivened the walls). Over the past 30 years, he’s proven beyond a doubt that he gets what art is. Of course, it’s one thing to know what it is, and another thing to teach what it is; credentials do not necessarily a good teacher make. But the note Bamberger attached to the Brooks Barrow invitation speaks volumes about his interaction with the photography students he guided during the fall semester: I asked them to make an interesting picture. They took pictures of the moonrise over the Calatrava. All we learned is what is NOT an interesting picture. Hundreds of pictures later they finally asked, “So what is a good picture?” There is no answer to that question. I told them that an “interesting” picture would have to be interesting to you before it would be interesting to anyone else, including me. Finally a breakthrough happened after they told their bossy inner voice to shut up. Everything they were telling themselves might be a good picture was wrong. All of their teachers were wrong. The books are wrong. They were looking with everyone else’s eye but their own. It takes some guts to see the world uniquely and be a student at the same time. I tried to rattle their brains. The students did the rest. It was fun. They taught each other. Saw each other see for the first time. Another great teacher, John Updike, wrote recently in The New Yorker about “visual trophies” – snapshots, and his connection to them throughout the years. An obvious fan of Susan Sontag, he quotes from an essay included in her 1977 book “On Photography.” “All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability … a photograph is both a pseudo-presence and a token of absence.” I visited the exhibit the day before the January 11 opening. The space was buzzing with excitement and a distinct air of cooperation. In the middle of it all was Bamberger, offering a suggestion here, an encouraging word there. Known for his strong opinions, which raise […]

A refreshing change

A refreshing change

Images courtesy Milwaukee Art Museum Chicago. Metzker, Ray K. American, b. 1931. 1958. Gelatin silver print. Gift of Dr. and Mrs. Robert A. Fine When I finally visited the Ramirez exhibition at the Milwaukee Art Museum, the Baker-Rowland Galleries were jammed with students, oldsters and in-betweeners. I managed to snag MAM’s Executive Director David Gordon and ask him why the glorious Windhover Hall was plastered with cheesy banners touting upcoming shows. After all, can’t people get information from the “information” desks? Apparently not. Gordon thinks folks want information fast and quick, so I guess cheesy banners are currently arty junk food. Anyway, Mr.Gordon said the banners were his idea, and that was that. One can only hope we don’t go into “banner overload,” though in my mind, we already have. The best part of my visit was a trip up to the Mezzanine area to view the Museum’s collection of photographs, which were formerly (and disgracefully) installed on an alley-like wall on the main floor. I always thought it was an insult to have them exhibited in such an out-of-the-way space, as if they didn’t deserve better. Now that they are on the north wall of the Mezzanine, I can more fully appreciate the collection that has been gathering strength for fifty years. Lisa Hostetler, associate curator of photographs, shepherds the rotating displays, and her snug office is appropriately beyond the wooden doors leading to the Print Room. Ms. Hostetler took time to chat with me about how works are acquired for the collection; basically, she considers many and selects a few she feels are best suited for acquisition. Her selections are then presented to a core group of devoted individuals who support the art of photography at the museum, among them the Richard and Ethel Herzfeld Foundation, which has contributed to the purchase of hundreds of photographs dating from the nineteenth century to the present. We took a stroll, albeit too brief, with Hostetler pointing out a lovely work by Wisconsin artist, Ray Metzker, one of many beauties (but not too many, as photographs, like all forms of fine art, demand room to breathe) which will be up until February 20. It’s a plus to view them in a serene space away from the fray of sensory stimulation directly below, and if you are a student of photography, or perhaps someone curious about the art of the daguerreotype, the area has several glass cases with artifacts and explanations about the 19th century process. Another nearby case held an exquisite 1850’s photograph, “Young Girl.” By way of contrast, be sure and take a look at “Nancy,” an amazing Chuck Close painting, very like a huge photograph, crooked teeth and all, on the first floor. There’s more. On February 9, Foto: Modernity in Central Europe, 1918-1945, opens in the Baker-Rowland Gallery. Organized by the National Gallery of Art in Washington and coordinated at MAM by Ms. Hostetler, these 160 photographs should knock your socks off. The show runs through May 4. […]

Human Bell

Human Bell

Nathan Bell (Lungfish,Television Hill) and Dave Heumann (Arbouretum,Bonnie “Prince” Billy) could be the musical equivalent of Civil War re-enactors. Their conspired effort, Human Bell, creates an atmosphere akin to that of an organic battlefield – a dirge-y sweep of chaos, simultaneously cold as metal and mellow as a field of grass droning with insects. Recorded by Paul Oldham and mixed by John McEntire, the guitar strings sound as though they reverberate into a tin cup while the crash cymbals and brushes fight to be the main percussive attraction. Add lots of meandering fuzz to the steady progression of songs, and they grow and change just by standing still. Bell and Heumann give us a Tortoise-like bite to chew on – a veritable novel for an audience accustomed to short stories. Through wave after wave of this seemingly cathartic sonic expedition, songs alternate between the quiet, such as “Ephaphatha (Be Opened),” swaying in a brassy swaddling of horns, and the forceful, calculated twitchiness of “The Singing Trees.” Human Bell’s self-titled release is a test in endurance, but should be savored for its meditative qualities. The duo lives up to their name (an uncanny combination of the musician’s surnames), their music widely resonating even during their live shows, when two skeleton guitars must manipulate the body of their recorded music. (On their album, Bell and Heumann host guests such as Matt Riley, Michael Turner, Pete Townshend and Ryan Rapsys.) Human Bell encapsulates a quiet beauty that is at once reflective, progressive and sparklingly macabre.

Open to interpretation

Open to interpretation

By Joe White “We’ll all have walkie talkies, and I’ll pretty much be like the quarterback,” says Kevin Stalheim. Such a statement might seem unusual coming from a member of a classical music ensemble, but when the ensemble in question is Present Music – a gaggle of adventurous virtuosi who have trained their fans to expect the unpredictable – the imagery seems in character. On January 12, Present Music stages “Art, Architecture and Music” at the Milwaukee Art Museum, using the entire Museum as a canvas for a concert. “We’ve been there for a long time, and we always go in there and do a concert where people sit down,” says Stalheim, who serves as the ensemble’s artistic director. “I thought that someday I’d like to do something where we’re moving around the galleries.” Before the performance, UWM students and professional video artists will display their work in Windhover Hall while models from Fashion Ninja pose around the museum. After a talk between Alex Mincek and MAM chief curator Joe Ketner about the dialogue between art and music, the action will move to Windhover for the world premiere of Mincek’s “Portraits and Repetitions,” as well as “In White” by longtime Present Music collaborator Kamran Ince and “Women at an Exhibition” by Randall Woolf. After the performance, concertgoers will split into groups and disperse to different sections of the Museum for music and recontextualized art. Roughly every 20 minutes, the groups will switch places. “What I’m imagining is people walking around in these groups [in] a very quiet way, in a contemplative way, the way someone might in a cathedral or a library,” says Stalheim. “The music will be happening, but people can feel free to move around.” Afterward, guests can enjoy an after-party with access to the Martin Ramirez exhibition, an impromptu runway show by Fashion Ninja and a presentation by multimedia ensemble donebestdone. While the works of Randall Woolf, Alex Mincek and Kamran Ince comprise the traditional sit-down-and-listen section of the evening, they are anything but stereotypical “serious” musicians. Those imagining composers of classical music to be crusty, gray and near-death will have their prejudices particularly challenged by Randall Woolf, who played in garage rock bands in high school and did not have an interest in classical music until college. “I do modern classical music – modern in the sense that it has sounds, ideas, videos and other elements that you would be familiar with in our world, like electric guitar, turntables and drum machines,” Woolf says. His resume includes Harvard and Tanglewood (perhaps conforming more to the “I don’t own a television and never smile” stereotype of serious composers), but his MySpace page includes PJ Harvey and Bubba Sparxx, and his music reflects as wide a range of styles. Woolf wrote “Women at an Exhibition” on commission from the Akron Symphony Orchestra and the Akron Art Museum and premiered the work in 2004. The piece incorporates recordings of women speaking and singing and is played in tandem with […]

Reverend Organdrum

Reverend Organdrum

The Reverend Horton Heat (specifically, band leader Jim Heath) is pretty much a brand name with the best of‘em. For over twenty years, the Rev has built quite a church on the strengths of his electrically – charged, vaguely psychotic musical sermons, with admirers in a wide spectrum of music appreciation, from the purists to the curious. Hi-Fi Stereo, a collection of entirely instrumental covers (save “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head”), falls more on the purist end. Though Reverend Organdrum (I’m betting the moniker brainstorming sessions took three seconds, tops) is quite a pairing, with Asleep At The Wheel’s Tim Alexander providing the organ, there is more miss than hit here. While expertly played and arranged, this disc leaves nothing to the listener’s imagination. From song selection to production to performance, nothing even remotely transports the listener. The lack of anything compelling tells me this was done in pure fun, and probably knocked off with little engaged energy. “Experiment in Terror” is worthy, with some nice atmospheric touches; “James Bond Theme” and “Theme to Route 66” are underlined with a bit of cool. But sadly, those are the only highlights worth mentioning (or even remembering). In a career that has been nothing but success — artistically, commercially, and critically — this project can only be heard as a disappointment. 

Bullet For My Valentine

Bullet For My Valentine

In the 1980s, it was demanded that metalheads swear allegiance to one subgenre and stick with it. Thrashers risked ridicule for owning a Poison album, and hairmetal kids couldn’t fathom the appeal of music so heavy that Aqua Net girls didn’t like it. So it’s amusing to listen to metal in the 21st century and hear Maiden-esque power metal, Sebastian Bach-caliber vocals and death metal growls in one band. Perhaps the emergence of grunge and indie in the ’90s convinced the metalheads that they’d better stick together. If that’s the case, then Bullet For My Valentine is tailor-made to appeal to every last one of them, be they clad in denim, leather or spandex. Scream Aim Fire, the band’s second album, is a nonstop barrage of British riffage, music school-bred twin guitar leads, and all-attack-no-decay double-kick percussion, held together with sugary power-pop vocals that could have been lifted from Skid Row’s debut (note: this is not a bad thing, indie rockers, and no, this isn’t irony talking), were it not for the occasional, and unfortunate, dive into cliché Cookie Monster metalcore. It feels like a calculated choice that will definitely sell records, but hearing Matthew Tuck’s voice soar into Rob Halford terrain would have been much more satisfying. Still, while they may be hurting in the originality department, Bullet For My Valentine is a breath of fresh harmony and — what’s this? Songwriting? — in a musical climate where headbangers seem content with mindless guitar wankery and tuneless vocals. Take the standout “Hearts Burst Into Fire,” a not-quite power ballad about (get this) life on the road, of all things. The riffage may be all Iron Maiden, but the lyrics are vintage Jovi Crüe. VS

Resolution

Resolution

Let’s pretend this column is being written during the first yawning hours of 2008, and not during the first snow-spewing, snot-freezing, soul-sucking weeks of December. Let’s also pretend that contrary to all hard-won common sense and cynical sensibility, the simple arrival of a new year can truly bring forgiveness, absolution and a newfound sense of purpose. Finally, let’s pretend that the rather dubious phenomenon known as “The New Year’s Resolution” isn’t just another hollow, self-defeating ritual designed to give lazy monthly columnists something cheap and easy to write about. Instead, let’s pretend that resolutions really do mean something, and that if we sincerely follow through on them, they can make us better people, and maybe even get us laid. For an extra kick, let’s pretend the following resolutions are your own, and not the aforementioned lazy columnist’s, whose only goal for 2008 is to finally relinquish his post as Vice President of the Mr. Belvedere Fun Club. Here, then, are four things you should do – nay, must do! – in 2008. (Note: I’m keeping these solely Milwaukee-related, and trying to avoid the typical “Quit smoking and drinking so goddamned much” resolutions we’ve all grown so tired of.) 1. Quit smoking and drinking so goddamned much Jesus, you’ve been hitting the sauce a little hard lately, haven’t you? Remember that one night you passed out in the back of your bass player’s pickup truck, got covered in nearly an inch-and-a-half of snow, and almost lost two of the fingers on your left hand to frostbite? How about that night after Thanksgiving when you went out to a bar with a video camera and kept sticking the thing in everyone’s face? Christ, you were annoying that night. And what’s up with the copious cigarette consumption? It used to be you only bummed from your friends when you were bored or wasted, but now you’re blowing precious hip-replacement money on a few packs a week. Seriously, if you need any more reason to cut down on both of these vices, just remember what happened to you last month: completely loaded, you quickly swung your hand to your mouth, thinking you were holding a cigarette. Unfortunately, you were holding a beer bottle, and your front tooth was smashed to dozens of jagged pieces as a result. 2. Finally see the Brewcity Bruisers OK, so the whole roller derby thing initially bugged the living shit out of you. Fake names? Cheerleaders? Endless cover stories? Christ! But hey, like the latter-day Monkees said: that was then, this is now. Your irrational anger has subsided, and you’re finally ready to jump aboard the bandwagon before the whole thing falls apart and everyone starts putting together burlesque acts again. Sure, you’re still a little leery of the weird pro-wrestling vibe the whole thing gives off, and the downright baffling rules always remind you of that roller derby episode of King of the Hill. (LUCKY: See, your blockers stop the other team’s jammers. The pivots can block, jam, […]

Naked is a state of mind

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 […]