May 2, 2005
iTunes and Other Musical Outlets
Looking over the iTunes '00's indie rock essentials, I'm proud to say that I already own 15 of the 25 basics, 3 of the next steps, and 2 of the deep cuts. So I've got a pretty good handle on the indie rock of the oughts. I've even attended concerts by six of the artists. I quibble with some of the selections (Modest Mouse and Ben Gibbard projects each get three songs), but the thrust of the list is in the right direction.
| Wed | 05/18/05 | Rilo Kiley | St. Andrews Hall | $16 |
| Fri | 05/20/05 | Decemberists | St. Andrews Hall | $12 |
| Mon | 05/30/05 | The Killers (89X) | Fox Theater | $36 |
Anyone wanna go? The Brunettes are opening for Rilo Kiley. The Killers are playing at the 89X Birthday Bash, with Brendan Benson, Keane, Louis XIV, Hot Hot Heat, Social Distortion, and Jada Pinkett Smith's band, among others. I'm feeling bitter that Sleater-Kinney and Kathleen Edwards aren't going to make it to town anytime soon, but that's how it goes sometimes. I'm also drooling over the Lollapalooza lineup, but I don't think I can afford it at this time.
Everyone's drooling over The Arcade Fire in indie rock circles, but I didn't quite get the hype. I'd listened to "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out), but I still wasn't a convert until an unlikely medium showed me something new. MTV came through for me. OK, it was MTV2, but these days it's just as unlikely a source. I saw the video for "Rebellion (Lies)" and saw something that had been missing in "N#3(PO)". The video also reminded me a lot of Sleater-Kinney's video for "Get Up"; the power of music to pull people out of comatose lives. The Arcade Fire add an element of theatricality and a healthy slice of the Pied Piper story, but the gist is the same. Word has it that they put on a terrific live show, but I'm not about to find out anytime soon.
April 29, 2005
Random Thoughts
As if there weren't enough reasons to adore Kathleen Edwards, the video for her new single "Back To Me" was shot out at Joshua Tree National Park. How can I tell? There's a rock formation in the background that I took a picture of when I was out there. This is so cool.
You know what's disappointing? Finding out that the Rick Leach whose brother is married to Lindsay Davenport is not the same Rick Leach who quarterbacked the Wolverines to three Rose Bowl appearances. I'm feeling so disillusioned.
Nominees for Alternative Album of the Year at the 2005 Juno Awards: Funeral - The Arcade Fire, Let It Die - Feist, Now, More Than Ever - Jim Guthrie, The Slow Wonder - A.C. Newman, Set Yourself On Fire - Stars. And Feist won. The most left-field of all of them, and she wins. Leslie Feist is part of the Broken Social Scene collective in Toronto, used to live with foul-mouthed female rapper Peaches, and her sophomore album is described as "a combination of folk, bossa-nova, jazz-pop, and indie rock." This is a slate of nominees that would never happen at the Grammys.
I am worth $2,188,056.00 on HumanForSale.com
April 24, 2005
Release
I cannnot wait until May 24. Seriously. Sleater-Kinney's new album, The Woods will come out, their first for Sub Pop, and NewsRadio will come out on DVD. S-K have already started hitting media outlets; they're on the cover of MAGNET this month. They've put a track from the new album up for download on Sub Pop's site. Word is that The Woods is less punk and more rock than any of its predecessors, helped along by producer Dave Fridman (Mercury Rev, The Flaming Lips). "Entertain" takes a few listens to open up. It's still crazy to think that three people are responsible for a riot like this. It's like a boat flying over a choppy sea; a racing sloop. Punk isn't supposed to last for five minutes, so I guess this must be rock. It isn't Pearl Jam or the White Stripes or anyone I've ever heard before but Sleater-Kinney. Don't get in the way of this music or it might tear you in half.
Someday I'll go to a Sleater-Kinney show where the crowd loses its collective mind. That's got to be some sort of rock 'n' roll epiphany. I can't imagine hearing this song cook off and not pogo like a maniac. There are too many people in indie rock who can't let go of themselves and respond to a show. They've got to invoke Gang of Four, Archers of Loaf, or Stephen Merritt thrice daily or they haven't done their job. And they don't dance. They don't even move at a rock show. They put effort into not letting the music take over. Last year I realized I couldn't like Seth Cohen all that much when he refused to see how much fun Luke was having at the Rooney concert. Granted, Luke's taste is pretty questionable if he'll go off at a Rooney show, but the point remains: Letting go is way more fun than standing there.
The Woods will probably take a while to grow on me. Every Sleater-Kinney record has been like that for me. Dig Me Out was the first one I downloaded. The Onion AV Club was saying good things about them, so I listened to the title track. I kept waiting for the bass to support the guitars, but it didn't exist. It sounded way too thin for my taste, but I found the guitar line snaking through my head for days afterward. The album slowly opened itself up to me after that. All Hands On The Bad One was a much more immediate, accessible listen. "Ironclad" is an alternate universe #1. I didn't get The Hot Rock for six months after I first listened to it. I think I must have listened to the tracks in the wrong order or something, because the first song just grabs me whenever I listen to it now. "The Size Of Our Love" is the only real ballad ever on a Sleater-Kinney album and a stand-out track. One Beat is the only one I bought on the day it came out. I don't know what I was thinking, given my track record, but I still felt vaguely disappointed when it wasn't immediately my favorite album ever. I gave it a few listens and grew on me in a HUGE way. It took up residence in my car for the next six months without letting up. I expect The Woods to match it.
The MAGNET article is mostly an interview with them done by Eddie Vedder, who seems to really like talking about some band he's in. And how he blew out his speakers listening to The Woods. And The Who, which is a strange reference point for Sleater-Kinney, other than both having spectacular drummers. But it isn't a bad interview. I really wish I had some background on the opening spots S-K did for Pearl Jam; Vedder talks about a few of them. It just doesn't work without more knowledge than I possess.
I've been waiting for NewsRadio to come out since TV shows started coming out on DVD. It's my all-time favorite sitcom and I haven't been able to watch it in the last two years. I was a loyal viewer until Phil Hartman died and it never was the same after that. All of the major actors are still on TV, but none are in a project worthy of their talent. Stephen Root comes closest, but that's also because he shows up in movies all the time.
March 29, 2005
Betty and Veronica
Veronica's mom comes back into the picture, the fractures in the Kanes' alibis are spelled out, and Wallace gets a chance to shine. Just another day in Neptune. My take:
The show has been subtly showing clues that Celeste Kane may be behind her daughter's death, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm right and then second-guessing myself for the umpteenth time. This time she's storming out of the Neptune Grand shortly before her daughter is murdered. I just don't know what further information we're going to see before the final episode. Is this a big red herring before dropping something else on us? The murderer has to be someone that's been established already, but someone expendable enough that he or she won't be back next year. Celeste and Jake are the most obvious suspects, but if Rob Thomas is willing to stretch further, Duncan and Weevil can be included in the pool.
Lianne's conviction that Jake was with her at the time of Lilly's death seems absolute; she clearly doesn't know that Lilly's actual time of death is by necessity hours later than the one the coroner provided. I'd say that this puts her out of suspicion.
Conversely, Jake and Celeste are pushed closer to the center of this case. I've been leaning toward Mommie Sneerest and her behavior in her interrogation doesn't do her any favors. Jake seems combative, and I know that Kyle Secor has himself another series lined up for next year. He certainly can't be counted out.
Sheriff Lamb may always be looking for a way to put himself in the spotlight, but he's not a sociopath.
Weevil has some explaining to do. He'd been sending Lilly letters and annoying her so much that she switched gym classes, and we have no idea where he was at the time of her death.
Duncan, as usual, is a huge blank. It would be pretty daring if the series made him the killer and I would stand up and salute Rob Thomas (same goes for Logan or Weevil). They've set up his epilepsy (and the drugs he's been on whose side effects include violent fits) and his alibi doesn't cover the time during which Lilly was really murdered. But he doesn't have a motive. If he did it, I'd expect the Kanes to come out with it and a ginormous lawsuit against the drug manufacturer.
I don't think it was Logan. Sure he was "crazy jealous", but he was and is so broken up by the tragedy that I can't believe he had a role in it.
I also don't think it was Keith. He's been far too considerate a parent and a man to do anything like this. And why would he lash out at Lilly if we was really furious at Jake Kane?
It wasn't Abel Koontz. Obviously. Or was it?
We met whoever did this in the pilot, of this I'm certain. Everyone who had some connection to this case had to be included here. You can't set up as season-long mystery if you don't introduce us to the solution at the same time.
March 28, 2005
Salon's Visionary
Watching Sheen's eccentric performance on "The West Wing" and Alan Alda's assured one in his current five-episode guest stint on "ER," you can't help thinking that their roles should have been reversed. Alda would surely make a more even-keeled president. And Sheen's advanced case of windbagitis might work better in Alda's role on "ER"; Alda's supposed to be playing a brilliant emergency medicine trailblazer, but he shuffles around so modestly, he might be mistaken for Marcus Welby.
This statement appeared in this article on Salon from November 1, 1999. In her last statement, Joyce Millman asks that Alda challenge Bartlet in 2000. Well, that didn't happen, but the closest thing to it has.
In other news, subscribers can watch the pilot episode of Veronica Mars with AOL Video On Demand. I think it requires RealPlayer to make it work, but I'm not sure. It's the whole pilot, and it's completely commercial-free. Also, the series returns from re-runs tonight at 9:00 on UPN for seven straight new episodes.
Be warned: If you install this, it will suck all of your free time down a giant well. NASA is offering a free program called WorldWind. It uses satellite photography to create maps of the US. It doesn't allow you to type in your address and find your house, but you can specify your city and do your own work from there. It's half a gig when installed, and it sucks RAM like there's no tomorrow, but it's amazing to use the US Geological Survey Urban Ortho satellite to zoom in on your house and be able to identify whose car is parked in the driveway.
March 13, 2005
Day 7: In Which Everything is Far Less Awesome
Palm Springs International Airport is an operational mess. When we tried to return our rental car at 7:10 AM, the line was already out onto the street. The line to get through security was over 100 feet long before you reached the cordons. Some random employee chastised us for not being there an hour and a half before our flight. At this point, I really started missing Metro. After we made it through security (at least the line kept moving), we hurried to our gate. With an expected ten minutes before boarding, I went to buy some Halls and some gum. Despite the shop being literally next door, it took me 15 minutes.
Things improved after we boarded the A319. Dust was blowing around the airport, but it didn't look strong enough to be worth worrying about. It did, however, obscure the mountains almost completely. We took off and when my sister realized we were headed toward the mountains ringing Joshua Tree, I almost lost my hand. The simple explanation was "I don't like mountains". To me, seeing the mountains that way was spectacular. It showed the way they spread out, the way water had carved into them, and the way people interacted with them. Roads ran through passes, and some along the spine of a range. Once we saw a large body of water which may be Lake Havasu. The dust storm was raging across the Mojave, carrying the dust thousands of feet into the air. We missed seeing the Grand Canyon by being on the wrong side of the plane; Flagstaff was a lousy consolation prize. Eventually the peaks of Colorado reappeared, then the flatlands took over all the way to Minnesota.
The final leg home was in a 757, probably my favorite plane to fly in. It's big enough not to respond to every whisp of wind, but small enough to still feel nimble. Plus it's single-aisle, so you never get stuck in that annoying middle pod of seats. We hit some serious turbulence near Muskegon, but it all settled out before we landed. Temperature: 25. Back to reality.
March 12, 2005
Day 6: In Which Everything Is Awesome
Somehow my sister was up by 8:00 am, but wasn't ready until past 10, so we missed almost all of the Mardy Fish vs. Jan-Michael Gambill match. Fish was really in the driver's seat when we made it to our seats. Unfortunately, our seats were in the northern half of the stadium, assuring a long, hot day. The match finished at 6-2, 6-2 for Fish. The next match was Sharapova vs. Angela Haynes. The heavily-favored Sharapova displayed impressive control of the match, easily taking the first set 6-1. With the rout on, and not wanting to miss any of the later matches, we headed for lunch.
After lunch, 15-year-old Svetlana Karatantcheva of Bulgaria took on Lindsay Davenport. Last year, Karatantcheva said "I will kick her butt" before a third-round match with Maria Sharapova. Famous last words, as Sharapova took her down. This year, she would make a second round exit. In her first set with Davenport, she was able to break the world #1, but her own serve was broken twice. We knew that Tim Henman was scheduled to play, so when my brother and I heard the PA announcement from Stadium 2 drift over, we headed out to see him. When we got there, Henman was already down 3-0, but he was digging in against Frenchman Arnaud Clement. Henman held serve and got a break back, but we left before his first set was over.
Andy Roddick was set to play Fernando Verdasco in Stadium 1, so we wanted to steal some seats in the shade before they filled up. My real hope was that Roddick would take care of Verdasco quickly so that we could catch the end of the Henman match, but that was not to be. Roddick's serve wasn't perfect, but it was his ground game letting him down this time. Verdasco was able to camp out on the baseline, as Roddick's shots were landing short. Verdasco could then unleash his own punishing lefty forehand for some easy winners. Roddick was lucky to get and hold a break on Verdasco to take the first set, and it was about this time I started calling him "Alberto Fedrigatti". He fought hard in the second set and broke Roddick's serve. The third was a dogfight the whole way, but neither could keep an edge on the other. It went to a tie-break, where Roddick charged hard and Verdasco faltered. The match finished 6-3, 3-6, 7-6(2). We found out the Henman match also went to three sets, Henman winning 4-6, 6-4, 6-3.
Nathalie Dechy and Emilie Loit were playing over on Stadium 2, so we went over to see that. I saw Loit play in the US Open last year against Serena Williams. While she lost the match, she played Serena tough and for that she has my respect. Dechy I'd heard of, but I'd never really seen her play. After the heated Roddick/Verdasco match, this one seemed s l o w. Each woman was content to bang away from the baseline, but neither had the power to really hit with some authority. It was like men's tennis, but at half speed. Each would have been well-served to make more appearances at net, but they were perfectly happy to wait for the other to make a mistake. If Dechy committed a string of errors, she'd turn away from the net and shriek hilariously. Girl is high maintenance, you gotta believe. Dechy had alreadly taken the first set, but Loit took the second. We were pulled away by dinner, but Dechy muddled her way to victory in the third.
The night session kicked off with Andre Agassi vs. Wayne Arthurs. Arthurs's whole game is his serve and volley, which matches up very poorly with Agassi's status as one of the best returners in the game. Arthurs was riding a streak of 147 straight holds of service, but Agassi ended that quickly at 148. He sought out his opponent's weaknesses and exploited them, taking the match 6-4, 6-1.
The last match of the day was Daniela Hantuchova facing Anne Kremer of Luxembourg, Luxembourg. I was routing for Hantuchova in this match, but she didn't get off to a good start. Her groundstrokes were deep enough to keep Kremer back, but when she got agressive she wasn't able to keep her winners in play. Kremer, for her part, was playing solid tennis and took the first set 6-4. At that point, it was already close to 10:00 PM and we had to leave to pack and get some sleep before our morning flight. Hantuchova, we later learned, battled back to win the next two sets 6-3, 7-5. I'm happy to see her win a three-set match coming from behind. She's famous for on-court meltdowns, and I think she really feels the pressure on her to succeed. I wonder if her father is a nightmare like many of the dads on the circuit; it would explain a lot.
March 11, 2005
Day 5: Things Start Happening
First match of the day: Clijsters vs. Asagoe. We made it to our seats only a couple of games into the match after we figured out that our tickets were in a completely different section from yesterday. They were on serve in the first. Clijsters was playing strongly, but Asagoe wasn't ready to go away. Clijsters actually came into this match unseeded, due to her prolonged absence last year after her wrist injury. Clijsters won the first set 6-3 on one break, and turned in the same score for the second set. In the second picture up top, Asagoe is seen going after a Clijsters overhead. She got a piece of it, enough to deflect it back into the air, but nowhere near enough to put it back over the net.
The next match was between Amelie Mauresmo (or as my sister calls her, "the man") of France and Tathiana Garbin of Italy. Mauresmo wasn't in any trouble during the quick match. She showed why she's #2 in the world as she destroyed Garbin 6-2, 6-1. The ninety-degree heat was already taking a toll on us, and in the break between sets we left our seats and sought refuge in the highest row of the stadium, where the rim provided some measure of relief from the sun. From there, you can see both the mountains of Joshua Tree and the purple-blue court.
As the match turned into a full-fledged rout, we left the stadium to get lunch before the biggest matches of the day began. We took a quick stop at the practice courts to see Lleyton Hewitt, who signed about five autographs before declaring "I'm done" and leaving without another word. Elsewhere, Davenport was hitting around with fellow veteran Amy Frazier, who lives in Rochester Hills. Frenchwoman Mary Pierce was on the court with her coach, who may be her brother. Federer was also out, with girlfriend Mirka sitting in the shade. I didn't realize he was hitting with Jiri Novak until someone else mentioned it, and I feel kind of guilty about that. I mean, Novak's been around; I should know who he is. My sister hung around to try to get Federer's autograph on her novelty tennis ball, and he obligingly gave it to her, signing something for just about everyone who wanted his autograph. Federer scores so many points with me for the way he conducts himself. He seems like such a class act, Lleyton Hewitt.
After lunch, we watched Juan Carlos Ferrero try to rebuild his ranking after a disastrous 2004 filled with injury and illness. The former world #1 didn't have too much trouble with Igor Andreev, beating him 6-3, 6-3. After this, my sister and I left the main stadium to go find the match between Mark Philippoussis and Gregory Carraz of France. Of course, we had to swing by the practice courts first. Mardy Fish was heading to one of the courts, and he kindly gave my sister his autograph.
We caught the end of the match between Max Mirnyi and Xavier Malisse. To sum up my feelings on Malisse: Haaaaaattte. We came upon the match at 5-5 in the third set. To nobody's surprise, it went to a tiebreak. Malisse lost the match, upon which he destroyed his racket. Not by just throwing it on the ground, he bashed it on the court until it was mangled almost beyond recognition. Shut up, Xavier Malisse.
At the start of the match, Philippoussis was hanging with the young qualifier Carraz. His big serve was still intact, allowing him to win a lot of cheap points. It looked like he was going to be able to handle Carraz, and I think he was up a break in the first set when we left. We had heard a rumor that Andy Roddick was on one of the practice courts, so of course we had to check it out. When we got out of the grandstands, we could see that this had to be true by the enormous number of people ringing one of the courts. My sister took up a position by the fence and wormed her way to the front. After his practice session with Sebsastien Grosjean was over, Roddick signed a bunch of autographs, Lleyton Hewitt, but he didn't get quite down the line to my sister. After about 7-8 minutes of signing autographs, Roddick made it to his little golf cart and sped off. Andy Roddick seems like the frattiest frat boy who never got a chance to frat. His closest pop culture analog is Luke from The O.C.. He has a good sense of humor, but behaves like he might believe a little bit of his own hype.
The evening session was dominated by the ATP All-Star Rally For Relief, put together by Roger Federer as a tsunami-relief benefit. Nine of the top ten men on the ATP tour were there, along with four of the best female players. Roger Federer, Andre Agassi, Lleyton Hewitt, Carlos Moya, Marat Safin, Andy Roddick, Tim Henman, Paradorn Srichaphan, Guillermo Coria, David Nalbandian, Amelie Mauresmo, Elena Dementieva, Kim Clijsters, and Daniela Hantuchova all showed up to support this event. It was so amazing. The men all played tiebreaks against each other: Coria vs. Nalbandian, Henman vs. Srichaphan, Safin vs. Roddick, Moya vs. Hewitt, and Federer vs. Agassi.
Coria is fast. Also, the earth is round. He's got to be deadly on clay. The women look like they're having a lot of fun on the sidelines, and Clijsters looks like she's really having a ball (no pun intended). In the middle of Henman/Srichapan, Srichaphan started moaning. Henman tries not to laugh as he plays out the long groundstroke rally, but he is unsuccessful. For Safin vs. Roddick, the women will be acting as celebrity ballgirls. Roddick demands acknowledgement for the four vollies he hit in a row. Safin demands that Roddick hit 150 mph on his serve, but Roddick only gets to 147 (and it's out). He and Roddick then agree that if he can ace Andy, Andy will give another $100 to tsunami relief and vice versa. Now that they're playing for cash, the serves are tougher, but both are good enough returners to stave off an ace. When Roddick hits one out to lose the tiebreak, Safin climbs the ladder to the umpire's chair to embrace him.
A pair of film producers each donated $5K for the chance to play a doubles game against Roddick and Safin. Looking at their AllMovie resumes, many of their movies suck quite a bit. But they must be profitable, otherwise why would Avi make "Shark Attack 3: Megalodon"? Safin and Roddick hike up their shorts over their polo shirts and hunch to match the posture of the 60-somethings arrayed against them. The announcer tells them that they'll be playing with a handicap, and asks Dementieva to go hold hands with Safin and Hantuchova to do the same with Roddick. Hilarity ensues. The ever-eager Dementieva brings her racket with her and attempts to join in the game, defeating the idea of her as a "handicap". Roddick and Hantuchova pretend to sneak off to make out. Of course, Roddick and Safin still win.
As Hewitt and Moya warm up, Dementieva has to leave. The other three ladies are sent into the stands with big UNICEF buckets to collect donations. Kim Clijsters comes up the aisle right next to us. She's passing the bucket far and wide as she makes her way up. A lady asks her to sign an autograph as she drops her money into the bucket. She signs more autographs as the bucket comes up the aisle. My sister is sitting right on the aisle, and gets Clijsters to sign. I swear, Kim Clijsters is one of the nicest people in professional sports. She's graciously signing everything in sight, keeping an eye on the bucket, and even making a little small talk with the fans in that Flemish accent she has. If she wasn't playing tennis, she would be everyone's favorite Belgian kindergarten teacher. Whoever has her as a grandma will be lucky.
Hewitt and Moya begin their tiebreak. Someone (not me, I swear) yells a "C'mon!" at Hewitt, but he pretends not to notice. As much as I dislike Hewitt, I have to give him credit for showing up at this. Also, he's been uniformly decent to Clijsters in the papers this last fortnight and that counts for something. He and Moya engage in a great rally at the net, during which at least eight volleys are exchanged between them before one escapes over Hewitt's head for a winner.
Federer and Agassi warm up as Hantuchova returns her bucket to the UNICEF folks and checks out. After a few points between Federer and Andre, Mauresmo does likewise after turning in her nearly-overflowing bucket. Clijsters is still in the stands. Agassi and Federer are playing for real. They both have such a great sense of what they want to do with the ball and how to move on the court. Clijsters returns to the playing surface, but only long enough to exchange her bucket for an empty one. A fan is helping her move the bucket around the stadium and gobs of money are pouring in. Andre does the grunt/moan thing against Federer, and it's still funny because we're nine. When they're tied at 6-6, the PA guy says that, since this is "so special", it won't be a sudden death tiebreak as announced, but they'd play till someone won by two. A few points later, with Agassi serving for the game, Federer says, "If you wanted to make this really special you'd let me win this one." Andre wins the point. Kim Clijsters has finally come back with another bucket of money. Tomorrow, the paper will let us know that they collected $18,282.76 in those buckets alone.
After the tsunami-relief festivities were over, James Blake played Alberto Martin. It's good to see James running around the court like he was. Last year, he lost his father and suffered a broken vertebra which kept him out for much of the season. He dealt briskly with Martin, beating him 6-2, 6-3. The second match was women's doubles. As advertised, it was Navratilova/Pastikova vs. Black/Huber. But it wasn't Martina Navratilova, it was Gabriela Navratilova. And it wasn't even Anke Huber, it was Liezel Huber. Bait And Switch! We left, since we were dead tired.
March 10, 2005
Day 4: Tennis, anyone?
Thursday was the beginning of our experience at the Pacific Life Open. Men's first round action had begun and the women were finishing out their first round and starting the second. We walked onto the grounds, but before entering the main stadium went over to the practice courts to see who was hanging around. #3 in the world Maria Sharapova was hitting with #1 in the world Lindsay Davenport. On the next court, Andre Agassi was hitting with a guy who looked a lot like Chile's bronze-medal-winner Fernando Gonzalez. Elsewhere, Roger Federer was practicing with some guys I couldn't quite place. It took a while to recognize American Mardy Fish with his new, really short haircut, but David Nalbandian looks the same as always. There are way too many shirtless Europeans and South Americans running around. It's up to the Americans to keep things classy.
At noon, we made our way to the upper bowl of the stadium where our seats were. Australian veteran Wayne Arthurs was taking on the young qualifier Brendan Evans of Pontiac. It wasn't a walkover, but Arthurs had little trouble taking the qualifier out. Not a lot of people were in the stadium. There weren't any bigger names scheduled to play that day, and the ninety-degree heat made it difficult to stay out in the sun for more than a single set. In the lower bowl, people were packed into the south end, the only place with shade. At 1:30, the sun finally cast a shadow over our seats, making things a lot more bearable. Next, we watched Angela Haynes, who grew up near the Williams sisters, beat Italy's Mara Santangelo. Mal Washington's sister, Mashona, lost to 15-year-old Czech Nicole Vaidisova. One of the first things my sister did after arriving at the Indian Wells Tennis Garden was to purchase an oversized novelty tennis ball for the accumulation of autographs. During this match, the PA announcer mentions that Maria Sharapova will be signing autographs at a sponsor's tent, so my sister leaves. She comes back 20 minutes later with the signature, but notes that Sharapova seemed like she really didn't want to be there. Next, another 15-year-old, the tiny Alexa Glatch lost to 30-year-old Jill Craybas.
Outside on the practice courts, Martina Navratilova was practicing for her upcoming doubles matches. Daniela Hantuchova, looking thin but healthy, was practicing her serves a few courts over. She doesn't have a deadly serve, but her motion is so lyrical. It looked terrific in the setting sun. Joachim Johansson was hitting around as well. He and his friend Lleyton Hewitt seem well matched. They both exhibit a spectacular arrogance. Johansson is so tall, and his serve is so powerful that he can threaten any player on any day if it's going in. I really dislike him. I was so happy when Agassi took him out in the Australian Open.
March 9, 2005
Day 3: In God's Country
Joshua Tree is a national park seemingly without much of a hook. Grand Canyon has the largest ditch in the world. Everglades has a ginormous swamp and alligators. Sequoia is another park named after a tree, but they have the world's biggest trees. Joshua Tree is named after a plant renowned for its bizarre appearance. A giant yucca, Joshua trees grow barely an inch per year and can live for up to 300 years or so. They don't have growth rings, so it's difficult to tell exactly how old they can get. They have a weird beauty to them. They never stand very close together; it's the least dense forest I've ever seen. But there they are, spreading out for miles in the high valleys of the Little San Bernardino Mountains. Time to put on some U2.
As we enter the park, we can see some high, rocky hillsides, but nothing that much different from what we saw driving up the Twentynine Palms Highway to the village of Joshua Tree. The park's 800,000 acres are far too expansive to see more than a fraction of them, but the 70-mile-long driving tour we've chosen should help us see as much as we can. Park Boulevard meanders through a high valley of the Mojave desert. Last week the area was inundated with rain and although no standing water remains, the desert's greenery is proof of its lingering affects. Every here and there you can see evidence of the recent erosion.
Our first real stop is fifteen miles into the park at a location called Hidden Valley. Legend has it that a cattle rustler kept his ill-gotten herd in here after blasting away a huge boulder. Disappointingly, we opt not to take the mile-long loop into the valley, but shoot some pictures near the entrance. I look back across the flats we'll soon be traveling through and snap some pictures perched atop a boulder with my brother.
A long spur off of Park Blvd leads south to Keys View, the can't-miss part of the driving tour. The overlook sits at 5,185 feet in a saddle between two summits in the Little San Bernardinos. From it, we can see Mt. San Jacinto's snow-capped peak across the Coachella Valley. To the south is the Salton Sea. We're told that, despite the haze hanging in the valley, we've come on a low smog day and are thus able to see the sea, which only happens 50% of the time.
We rumble on in our white whale of a rented minivan, Stephen and I snapping pictures as we go. One hillside has a rocky projection that looks strikingly like one of the fallen statues from Easter Island. We forego another hiking trail, but turn in at Jumbo Rocks to get pictures of the huge granite outcroppings. Down the road a bit is the slightly creepy Skull Rock, which does look oddly human.
Like Mackinac, Joshua Tree has its own Arch Rock. For the record, Mackinac's is more physically impressive, but Joshua Tree's is far more accessible. We climb all over it and the surrounding rocks, Stephen takes a bunch of pictures. I've maxed out the memory stick on my camera at 92 pictures in the last two days.
The landscape begins transitioning from the high Mojave desert to the low Sonoran. The Joshua trees have all but disappeared, replaced by creosote and ocatillo. We roll into our last stop, the Cholla Cactus Garden, just inside the extents of the Colorado branch of the vast Sonoran desert that extends down through Mexico. The Little San Bernardino Mountains have given way to the darker Hexie Mountains to our southeast, while the Pinto Mountains are to the north. We're on the edge of the Pinto Basin, which encompasses much of the 585,000 acres of land designated as wilderness inside Joshua Tree. The Cholla Cacti are low and bulbous, but are a vibrant pale green. Some of the wildflowers have begun to bloom.
Back in the car, we're still over twenty miles from the exit to the park. We race down through the Pinto Basin as fast as the Cadillac in front of us will let us, which isn't very fast at all. Far to the northwest are the amusingly-named Coxcomb Mountains and I wonder why someone would name a mountain range after the Prince Regent. To leave the park, we go between the Cottonwood range and the Eagle Mountains to pick up I-10 35 miles from Palm Springs.
Back in town, dinner is at a restaurant called "Pommes Frittes". Translation: "French Fries". Walking down the street, I pass a tall blond in a green jacket staring in a shop window. It's Maria Sharapova.
March 8, 2005
Day 2: 360-Degree Views
Today's big activity is riding the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway. Established in 1963, the Tramway carries visitors up the side of Mt. San Jacinto in the world's largest rotating tram cars. The base station is already 2,643 feet above sea and the cars carry visitors up 5,873 vertical feet on 2.5 miles of cable. Being kind of stupid, I grab a spot standing right by the edge of the enclosed car. We start heading up and I realize why the people who'd clearly ridden the tramway before are grabbing the stanchions attached to the floor in the middle of the circular car: The car doesn't rotate, the floor does. This means that the rails attached to the side of the car don't move, making it quite a bit harder to stay vertical.
There are four towers to hold the cable on which the car rides. Every time we pass one, the car gives a sickening swing through the air. This is kind of like the world's slowest roller coaster. We can see the towns of the Coachella Valley spread behind us and the Salton Sea gleam 50 miles to the Southeast.
It's only 55 at the top, thirty degrees cooler than in the valley. Snow is piled all around; a sign at the bottom said it was five feet deep an I believe it. The intensity of the sun renders a jacket unnecessary. We hike down a path into Long Valley, a short distance below the summit. Someone's made a snowman on the opposite bank of the small mountain creek. Pictures are taken. We try to figure out where the guy who brought his downhill skis up the tramway has gone off to, but it's no use. We hike back up to the summit and take a bunch of pictures of the Coachella Valley before heading back down. This is kind of awesome.
Back at the resort where we're staying, I see this middle-aged guy barreling down the condo-lined street in his golf cart, blaring Pink Floyd's "Money".
March 7, 2005
Day 1: Sjeng Schalken Knows We're Cool
Driving to the airport I ponder, "Why does traffic go slower on a clear Monday afternoon than during a Tuesday night thunderstorm?" Some questions must go unanswered. Lunch is a hasty swing by Pizzapopolis. My sister quietly begins her pre-boarding freakout. Once a great flyer, a thunderstorm and a CRJ were here undoing.
Take-off is a part of flight I've never worried about. I know that, statistically, it's dangerous, but the way I'm pressed back in my seat is reassuring. I'm a little concerned that the pilot has elected not to use more than a few degrees of flaps, but I vaguely remember that this is standard procedure on a DC-9. Somewhere above 10,000 feet, my sister decides to return my hand to me. Uneventful cruise. When we descend, I try to figure out which river is which in Minneapolis-St. Paul. I think I figured out which was the Mississippi and which was the St. Paul. Gusty winds make for an exciting crab into the crosswind. Still, no big deal.
After hanging around MSP for two hours, we board the flight for Palm Springs at about 4:45. My sister tells me to look, but I miss the guy with a bunch of rackets getting on the plane. She says, "I think that was Sjeng Schalken." After a long wait on the tarmac with a wonky APU on our A319, we get to take off. In the middle of the flight, I see badlands through breaks in the clouds as they give way to some serious mountains; covered in snow, barren of trees on top, diving into deep valleys. On one of the mountains I'm pretty sure I see a ski resort.
As the sun goes down against the high country on the horizon, I think I see Flagstaff or Kingman, Arizona pass by on my left. In the last rays of twilight I see the outlines of the the peaks lining the Coachella Valley as we land in Palm Springs. The guy with the rackets gets off the plane before I can spot him, but he has to hang around to get his luggage too, and now I'm convinced it's Sjeng Schalken. I lean over to my sister and say, "It's a good thing we brought our tennis gear. Now when we pick it up, Sjeng Schalken will know we're cool." We crack up.
March 5, 2005
Veronica Mars: Tuesdays at 9:00 Eastern on UPN
The best new show on television is Veronica Mars, and it's currently my favorite show on TV. Last year had a lot of shows that had good first seasons, but now they're having trouble following through (Joan, The O.C.). Veronica Mars has had a terrific first season thus far, and shows no signs of slowing down. Obligatory recap of the premise: Veronica Mars has life pretty much going her way, when it all falls apart. Her boyfriend, Duncan Kane, breaks up with her. Her best friend; Duncan's sister, Lilly; is murdered and her father pursues a case against Lilly's father, billionaire Jake Kane. The investigation stalls, Keith Mars is replaced as sheriff in a recall election and Veronica's mother takes off for parts unknown. At a party where she tries to demonstrate she's unaffected by her precipitous fall from grace, her drink is drugged and she's date-raped. The new sheriff made an arrest and obtained a confession, but Veronica remains unconvinced due to some major inconsistencies. Keith has since set up his own firm as a PI and Veronica joins him, helping out on his cases and gathering her own evidence to vindicate Keith.
This show is so good. The other female heroine shows out there often have the lead in tears (Alias) or feeling sorry for her lot in life (Buffy), but Veronica isn't about to succumb to that. She's made a conscious decision to move forward. She's been hit pretty hard, but she's getting up off the mat older, wiser, and a little more brittle. Despite her remarkable inner strength, she projects an image that's tougher than what she really feels. You can see the facade crack sometimes; usually relating to something from her past, but sometimes due to the empathy she retains for others. It's like being able to see around corners when that happens. Kristen Bell, the Royal Oak native who plays Veronica, is remarkable here. She kills in every scene and plays so well off of co-stars Enrico Colantoni (Elliott from Just Shoot Me) and Jason Dohring. I saw her in David Mamet's Spartan, and she was spectacular there, too, stealing a scene right out from under Val Kilmer in a movie where Kilmer dominates every other second of film. I'm bitter that I'll be in California the day before the cast shows up for the Paley Festival at the Museum of Television & TV, but there's no chance for me to show up.
I really want to see this show get a second season and a DVD release. Unfortunately, it's getting destroyed in the ratings. Enterprise has comparable numbers, and is being shut down after five seasons. The difference is that UPN believes that Veronica Mars has the potential to take off. Enterprise used to average close to 6 million viewers per week, now it takes in half that number. I believe in this show too. Summer repeats are key, it's how One Tree Hill(VM's competitor on Tuesdays at 9) made big ratings gains between seasons. And I think a DVD release would help quite a bit. It's hard to appreciate all the nuances of the series if you haven't seen all of the episodes. I don't know if there's a Firefly-sized appetite for DVDs out there, but there are a lot of loyal fans out here on the internet.
Fans have started a pre-emptive strike against cancellation. SaveVeronicaMars.com is up and running, cataloging these efforts. This is the first anti-cancellation drive I've participated in. Wonderfalls wasn't nearly as good as this show and is probably best served as one of the great might-have-beens. Veronica Mars is a show with real dramatic legs and I hope it can be a network-defining show for UPN. I've sent in my fake $2 bills, signed the petition, and let Amazon know how I feel about a DVD release. This show deserves a place in next year's fall schedule.
February 28, 2005
The Man Can't Keep Me Down
The three of you reading this might wonder where I've been. I lost my old host for this site after my graduation (plus a couple of semesters). Now I'm here. Let's get to it. Note: The archives will be filled in slowly.
Joan: What to do?
Joan of Arcadia was one of the best new shows of last year, but has run out of steam this year. I don't know how a show that was off to such a good start last year (and the early part of this year) has suddenly started wandering into a teen version of Judging Amy, Barbara Hall's other CBS drama. Part of the problem is that nothing's really happened this season after the first two episodes. Joan comes back from crazy camp trying to shut out God, but can't deny that things were better when they worked as a team. We've gotten no movement on the Adam front, and the writers running up against the real issue of whether or not Joan and Adam will have sex.
More important than that is whether or not Joan can keep being such a flake. Sure, she's supposed to be "normal not-too-popular teen girl who happens to have a direct line to the Almighty", but all of the girls I knew in school had more sense than her. I don't need her to turn into a genius, but I do want her to learn from her experiences and develop the common sense to avoid screamingly obvious bad choices.
Case in point: Joan gets an A+ on an econ. paper, her first ever. God tells her to use that knowledge. Joan decides He meant that she should sell the donations from a clothing drive to a vintage clothing store, using the proceeds to buy new stuff for the homeless and skimming a cut for herself. I honestly couldn't watch this episode the whole way through.
BUt there are parts that give me hope. Joan and Adam still have a deep bond, and they can pull things together. Kevin has a story that's worth telling. They finally wrapped up a soul-sucking police storyline. They've got a lot of balls in the air, so some people are going to get shafted on screen time from episode to episode, but I can live with that. Like another show about high school and the supernatural, they still can follow the same path as Buffy. A slight but engaging show about a teenage girl and her powers took a turn near the end of the first season, followed that course at the beginning of season two before returning to lighter ground, then undergoing a transformation in the middle of the second season and charging hard through the third season. It could happen again.
