The Rake Magazine

Happy May Day! (Grumble-Grumble.) The interminable rain foiled my weekend running plans of course, although it didn't stop me from making it Brave New Workshop way. Also swung into the Soap Factory (two opposable thumbs up for the 8x8x8 exhibition--they had felt art!) and Theatre in the Round. But I'll report back on all that later--I mean, I report back on what I feel is worth reporting back on.

As far as today goes, I wouldn't be a good journalist if I didn't plug tonight's lecture by Seth Mnookin (from Vanity Fair, dawg!! I've been just lovin' that magazine as of late--even though I have been obsessively showering ever since "Tom Ford's Hollywood"-slash-cootie-fest!). In any case, tonight's event is brought to you by the University of Minnesota's Silha Center for the Study of Media Ethics and Law, a fine organization. The topic: "The Customer is Always Right? The Assault on Media Impartiality from the Empowered American Consumer." Not sure I can elaborate on that subject, for fear of pissing off our advertisers (just kidding). It sounds compelling in any case, no?

Ah, the weekend lineup. They just about write themselves. I've been looking forward to it all week...

There's yet ANOTHER Minnesota Book Awards reading tonight, and this will be the last since the official awards are being handed out tomorrow. Guess who's "moderating" tonight's reading? Tha's right. Me. (Sorry Tex!) But with a lineup that includes over a dozen famous writers, including karaoke king Ed Bok-Lee, my appearance promises to be short.

Shutka Book of Records: A seriously funny mockumentary/documentary about the various local legends inhabiting a Macedonian town--supposedly the world's most populous Roma settlement. See today's Strib for the 3.5 star review. The one and only screening happens tomorrow evening as part of the Film Festival, although, admittedly, this is part of the small campaign I'm waging to get this film reprised in the festival's best-of retrospective. (Are they even doing that this year?) In any case, show's at Bell Auditorium, 7:15 p.m. But not until tomorrow.

And introducing a new feature, The Teaser (truth be told, this might be the one and only time I tease anything): Here are some things I either forgot to write about and/or have yet to experience: The Museum of Russian Art's new exhibition, Soviet Dis-Union, which I saw last Saturday; the Brave New Workshop and its fast-on-his-feet leader, Caleb McEwan, who I'll be enjoying tomorrow evening (no book awards for me, d'Oh!); the Soap Factory's opening, which I may or may not have the time to catch; Coyote on a Fence, Theatre in the Round's new play about death row; the physical fitness/running ability (or lack thereof) of a certain smack-talkin' Minnesota Orchestra percussionist named Kevin Watkins, whose ass I'm going to kick this Sunday a.m.

There he is. He's toast!

Seems I've become a fan of the Westminster Town Hall Forums. You probably already know about the Forums, but if you don't: These are series of speakers, sponsored by our favorite Presbyterian church on the mall, that tackle all manner of contemporary subjects. Last year Westminster embroiled itself in the arts, inviting such heavy-hitters as Edward Albee and (Pfft!) Salman Rushdie.

Now they're tackling the heady subject of America, and what it means to be an American. Interesting topic, no? Still, I was a little under-whelmed by last month's speaker Jacob Needleman, a philosopher who wrote a book called The American Soul. Not knowing anything about the book, I had hoped he would tackle such issues as, you know, are Americans collectively going to hell? Or: just what the heck is the American Dream anyhow? But alas, the fellow had gone reading the Federalist Papers and was more interested in the ideals of early Americans--which, of course, we have strayed far, far from. There was some talk of how we Americans are still connected to such revolutionary thought, but I thought he mostly wimped out in this section, instead hiding in the relative safety of oblique language.

Today's speaker, David Halberstam, a journalist accustomed to shaping language that hovers at about the fourth-grade level (that's how they tell us to write at J-skool, ya'all) (except this guy went to Harvard so maybe not), is slated to cover the future and recent past. This is the guy who wrote The Best and the Brightest, a seminal book that, published in 1972, swayed much public opinion about the American course in Vietnam. Now here's someone with something interesting to say about the meaning of America.

It's really cool to be there at these Forums, which start at noon. But they're also broadcast and re-broadcast on MPR. Hope you catch it one way or another.

All right, oldsters. Indulge me for a sec by turning down The Current or, for all you true contrarians, the Jazz 88. Today's offering comes in the form of a love letter to dear, little Radio K. Remember when?

Remember the dreary radio days of post-REV 105, when there was no such thing as The Current or even Zone or Drive 105? We were younger then. And the indie kids all directed their ears (and hearts) to Radio K. Cosmic Slop? Hell yes I grooved out to plenty of Helen Reddy! The Beat Box? Thanks to that show's theme song, the K's request line shall forever be burned into memory: "Call 626-477-Oh / We'll try our best to pump it through your sterrey-sterrey-Oh." This was a sun-up to sun-down affair, and it burned brightest in the summer months, particularly in June, when the sun stayed up long past the workday and kept our ears filled with "the K" until as late as 9 p.m. Radio K, we loved you despite your puny transmitter.

In any case, as part of their annual Power Surge fund drive, Radio K is boosting tonight's cool-sounding Ink'd and Amp'd concert. One-part fundraiser, one-part DEMO (Diverse Emerging Music Organization) happening, the event is somehow supposed to combine live music by Mel Gibson and the Pants, These Modern Socks, and such with tattoo art--or something like that.

And speaking of tattoos, if I had to choose a line of text to have permanently etched into my flesh (see The Rake's Literary Supplement for the reference), it'd be this from Theodore Roethke: "When small birds sighed she would sigh back at them."

Here's where I give props to some competitors: It seems a couple'a folks over at Minnesota Monthly are having some success with Before The Mortgage, a recently published anthology of essays about adult life before taking on any real responsibility. There's a public reading tonight at Magers & Quinn bookstore, 7 p.m. And yes, I will definitely be in attendance, if only to offer emotional support to my good friend, Tim Gihring.

This Before The Mortgage book grew out of a zine, you know. I once wrote something for the thing, even though, technically, I do not qualify... on account of my having a mortgage and all. I'm pretty sure my piece never made it to print, however. My essay was all about taking the Morning After pill with dinner at my ten-year high school reunion; and it's even a true story! Seems I'd been practicing sloppy birth control day before the big event. And you're supposed to take these things with food, of course, lest you submit yourself to 24-hours of queasiness. It was just coincidence that my next meal, after having picked up the prescription from Burch, was plucked off a typical D'Amico spread of caesar salad and lasagna, which was all that was being offered onboard the Centennial Showboat that night. Washed down the first in a two-part series with sapphire tonic, if memory serves. And I didn't even feel woozy as we floated up the river and back again, despite the ever-presence of nauseating former classmates and all their pregnant bellies.

In retrospect, I'm pretty sure my essay sucked. What a horrible topic, first of all! Second: there are plenty of tough-to-tackle issues involved with sloppy birth control, not to mention with serial dating and childless-ly reaching the thirty-year hump. I didn't adequately unpack any of them, dammit! Plus, I didn't even bother to style the thing. It was a shitty effort. Sorry for that goes to BTM and MN Mo editor Rachel Hutton. See ye tonight. And good luck hawkin' your book, yo!