4/90 Misc. Newsletter

IN MEMORY OF BOB & RAY

(THE BRAND YOU’VE GRADUALLY GROWN TO TRUSTOVER THE COURSE OF THREE GENERATIONS)

Damn. I was so looking forward to a baseball lockout. But at least we get to have an April edition of Misc., the pop-culture report that can hardly wait the five years it’ll take to build the proposed bullet train to Moses Lake. The concept is to have international air travelers to Seattle stop there, at an abandoned Air Force base. If we’re lucky, we’ll have a lot more surplus military and military-industrial plant to recycle, so we’d better start thinking of such inventive re-uses for them now. Besides, they could carry the rail line further east, for romantic getaways in Spokane (or even Wallace, Idaho).

GREAT STUFF: We in Seattle may have seen, thanks to the UW, the launching of women’s basketball as the hot new sport of the early ’90s. It’s competitive but not violent (so far), wholesomely sexy, and more down to earth than the men’s game (by about a foot). It’s also a frontier sport, not yet smothered under commercial endorsements and TV time-outs (again, so far). But will interviewers ever ask coaches of men’s teams how they juggle coaching with raising a family.

THE TRUTH ABOUT NICARAGUA: So, after 10 years, some folks got tired of Ortega, his teenage military draft, his Castro-inspired corporate culture, and his rhetoric (not to mention the contras and the US economic blockade). Ortega has proven his commitment to democracy by allowing himself to lose, something you don’t see in some of those anti-Communist dictatorships the US government loves. The Sandinistas remain the single largest party in the parliament, and might one day make an informal coalition with the non-Sandinista leftist parties that campaigned as part of the diffuse UNO coalition. And we must still remember that before Ortega, there was no democracy in that poor, tiny (fewer-people than Washington state), dictator-brutalized land.

FISH OR FOUL: UW art student Horace Luke made a sculpture incorporating 75 goldfish in a plexiglass tube, surrounded by neon lights. The fish were supplied with oxygen from an air pump, fresh water every three to four hours, and regular meals; but they still began to die, on full display in the Art Building. Then somebody, perhaps one of the piece’s several critics, stole the whole contraption on 3/7, except for the air pump. Without that, Luke told the Daily, any “rescued” fish probably died within 15 minutes.

LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE MONTH: Seattle Radio Guide, an ambitious effort to provide free weekly listings of everything on every station. Publisher Bruce Buckner (“Having never worked on a magazine before…”) is apparently appealing to the few of us who cruise the dial on futile searches for something that’s not bland, old, or excessively market-segmented; but it’s no threat yet to Soundings Northwest….

The local black community could use a more professional, dignified newspaper. The Skanner (new branch of a Portland-based chain) isn’t it. It does, however, have a boxing column by Geek Love author Katherine Dunn.

TATTLE TALES: Mark Goodson and his late partner Bill Todman are famous for producing TV game shows. But, it turns out in the Malcom-memorial issue of Forbes, they made the bulk of their fortune owning a string of suburban papers in Pennsylvania (subcontracting the papers’ management to another chain). I don’t know if the reporters ever vowed to tell the truth, or whether they were stopped by the sound of a bell after asking a few questions (or if they had to stop if they got a no answer).

UNFAVORABLE IMPRESSIONS: The Nov. issue of American Printer carries the sad tale of printers stuck with worthless inventories of fad products whose times passed or never came: Michael Jackson posters, Trivial Pursuit game boards, books on Agnew, Dukakis, Gerald Ford and Oliver North. In the weirdest story, a small print shop invested in costly hardware to stamp photo-engravings of Elvis onto chocolate bars. (Thanx to Fred Woodworth of The Match, a Tucson political journal, for the tip.)

JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Power Burst, an “advanced performance beverage” that vows to “beat Gatorade 7 ways.” All I know is you can prove your toughness by finishing an entire serving of the stuff….

A new line of oat bran English muffins is offered by a local outfit called Broadmoor Bakery. To the English, of course, Broadmoor is not known as an exclusive Seattle neighborhood but as a London psychiatric hospital.

SLOGAN OF THE MONTH: B.F. Goodrich T/A Tires, “The Athletic Shoes for Your Car.”

STAGES OF LIFE: The Coliseum Theater, last of the downtown single-screens, finally went RIP. Possible future uses for the historic building include yet another tacky upscale mall. Its death is directly due to 15 years of physical neglect by the misnamed Luxury Theaters, but can be related to the Reaganomics of the multiplex age, giving us (as noted in a recent Atlantic article) just long commercials, exercises in heavy emotional manipulation with little interest in storytelling or acting, let alone the “glamour” of the old Hollywood….

In happier news, Seattle promoters are trying to start an arts center in Concrete, Skagit County. They hope to set up shop in an old moviehouse this year or next, pending the success of a corporate fund drive.

NOSE FOR NEWS: I’m always defending USA Today from my fellow pseudo-intellectuals. One reason I like it: its recent national survey of urban smells. It printed a letter from Cedar Rapids, Iowa complaining about the local Quaker Oats plant (though “Thursdays aren’t too smelly because they make Cap’n Crunch”), from Wichita (where “the putrid smell of gas from the gas wells and crude oil from the oil wells was bad enough I wanted to brush my teeth”), and one from Milwaukee about the brewery and slaughterhouse smells (the mayor responds, “Milwaukee smells like a thriving city”).

BELLEVUE RICH KID DEAD IN C.D. CRACK SALE (3/20): Perhaps the only lesson from this tragedy is a reminder of the affluent who have abandoned the cities, their schools and industry, for a “quality” (euphemism for all-white) life in the suburbs, while serving as the customers who make the drug scourge possible. People are dying in the Rainier Valley and in Latin America so Eastside power-dressers can have their alleged fun.

SINGER FOR MOTHER LOVE BONE DEAD FROM HEROIN: Perhaps the only lesson from this tragedy is not to take ’60s revisionism too far. Back then, heroin was used by the Mafia/CIA to keep undesirable groups (first blacks, then radicals) under control. Besides, intense artificial “highs” are not the making of true cutting-edge art (especially in the age of Spielberg).

SWEET NOTHING: You know I don’t care for most commercial sentimentality, but I am wistful at Bartell Drugs’ centennial commercials showing an old drugstore soda fountain. The Northgate and old Westlake Bartells were just about the last drugstore soda fountains in town, but they were out by the late ’70s. (The last Seattle soda fountain was in an independent pharmacy on Broadway, replaced by a fancy restaurant that didn’t last five years.) I know they need room to stock all those high-tech prescription drugs and all those different shampoos containing “organic and other ingredients,” but they oughta find room in their bigger stores to bring the fountain treats back. Just don’t make it cutesy-wootsey, OK?

CATHODE CORNER: KIRO’s Aaron Brown has established himself as the nudge-nudge irony of modern TV adapted to local news. You know, the Lettermanian “We both know this is stupid but watch anyway” attitude that lets viewers think they’re too smart to be manipulated while continuing to be manipulated….

CBS has become an industrial dinosaur. Like GM and the Democrats, its attempts to revive itself fall back on the faulty practices that got it into its mess. Every “new look” show is over-researched, over-compromised and over-acted. When Moon Unit Zappa becomes a spouter of non-gag likes, you know something’s wrong.

PHILM PHACTS: The Great Rock n’ Roll Swindle was cool and quite the nostalgia trip, especially for the kids in the audience who were still in grade school when the Sex Pistols happened. It was fun to look back at England before Thatcher (the next European dictator to fall?), when it still had a veneer of respectability to rebel against. But punk was more grass-roots than Malcom McLaren still will admit. None of the hundreds of other bands were mentioned in the film. For example, the women of punk were not a wife/mistress auxiliary whose own works waited for discovery by historians (as in surrealism or the beats), nor the later second wave of an established genre (as in stand-up comedy or even rap). Punk’s women were out front from the start with X-Ray Spex, Siouxsie Sioux, Deborah Harry, Deborah Iyall, Au Pairs, the Slits, and dozens of others. Their legacy is to credit for the recent dominance of women on the pop charts (six of a recent Billboard Top 10).

‘TIL THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY, don’t wear a leather jacket to anti-fur rallies, enjoy the handmade Word of the Week signboard on Corliss Ave. N. heading north from 44th to 45th (a recent display: “Piscatorial”), read The Quayle Quarterly, consider private chess lessons from our own world champ Elena Donaldson-Akhmiloskaya ($25/hr.), try to figure out Lee Iacocca’s statement that “it’s time to peel off the Teflon Kimono,” and visit the Cap. Hill antique store with the simple name “OLD!” See ya.

THE MISC. LIST

Some still think I’m “just kidding,” that beneath the facade of an Angry Young Man there’s a carefree, apathetic party boy. There isn’t. I’m really like this.

Things that make other people laugh but just make me puke

Christian TV, professional wrestling, supermarket tabloids (especially the Weekly World News, made expressly to be laughed at), spoof movies, any movie with an ex-Saturday Night Live or SCTV star (except Strange Brew).

Things that make other people puke but just make me laugh

The flag nonsense, Nintendo, Milli Vanilli, Channel One, Smurfs.

Things people expect me to adore but I don’t

Science fiction, sword-and-sorcery (especially sword-and-sorcery disguised as science fiction), speed metal.

Things people expect me to just loathe but I don’t

Idaho Spud candy bars, designer sneakers, working-class people.

OFFER

No new Misc. subscribers signed up last month, so everyone who signs on this month will get a special bonus: A special frameable essay and two random pages from my forthcoming novel.

PASSAGE

Francois Campoin in the short story “Things That Made It Possible”: “I lost control of the video portion of my life. I kept fading in and out.”

WORD OF THE MONTH

“Aborescence”

3/90 Misc. Newsletter

Russia’s Getting A Multi-Party System!

(Wish We Had One.)

Spring, they say, is just around the corner, but you don’t have to wait any longer for Misc., the info-mosaic that wonders why you can now get a Big Mac in Moscow, but you still can’t get one in Winslow. You call that American freedom of choice? And hey, you vegetarians and epicurean snobs out there, stop scoffing long enough to consider the years of preparation McDonald’s undertook in making food ingredients in the USSR with the quality control needed for modern agribusiness. Most USSR food is still “natural” (as in less-processed), scarce and often rotting. Their system never developed efficient production and distribution; ours perverted those virtues into for-their-own-sake obsessions.

Giving Workers the Rack: I was set to write this month about the imminent closure of Nordstrom’s U-District branch (which has been there in various forms and addresses since the days of raccoon coats), but more important news came in the state’s $30-million decision in favor of employees stuck working extra hours for free. It took the pro-business but out-of-town Wall St. Journal to print the workers’ side of the labor dispute (kudos to reporter Susan C. Faludi, who uncovered not just mandatory volunteer overtime but a corporate culture of bullying, treachery, bigotry, and forced “happiness”). The local media have been as one-sided as they could get away with, taking the angle of “Bad news for Nordstrom” (Times headline, 2/16), never “good news for Nordstrom employees.” I can believe the worst stories and still understand the pro-management employees leafleting outside the stores. Some sincerely believe in the total-hustle policy; others just might be into the “defender” role familiar to analysts of dysfunctional families. What the cracks behind the mandatory Nordic smile mean to Nordstrom’s “service” reputation remains to be seen (computer magazines regularly publish columns suggesting it as a customer-relations role model to computer companies). Even more importantly, many facets of the scandal relate back to the laid back/mellow reputation of the Northwest, whose consumers madethe Big N. what it is today. Nordstrom is one of a handful of institutions that mean the Northwest to the rest of the world (along with the Nordstrom-founded Seahawks, Boeing, The Far Side, Heart, and Ramtha). What does it say when so many of us prefer to buy from a place that hires people on the basis of their conformity to the corporate “look” (a nebulous criterion that could be used against those with too-kinky hair or too-dark skin), and apparently treats them like well-dressed little Oliver and Olivia Twists?

Snow Wonder: You can tell real Seattlites by their attitude towards a big urban snowstorm. To them, it’s a source of childlike wonder and merriment. To suburbanites and Easterners, it’s a nuisance. To Southern Californians, it’s a mix of terror and shock that the weather they love to talk about to prove their “adopted native” stance can do something this big. I loved it, even if it didn’t last longer than four days. I almost got to see a Samurai turn over, live and in person!

The Fine Print (sticker affixed to the back cover of Ernie’s Postcard Book, funny-cat photos by Tony Mendoza, published by Capra Press): “The captions on the back of each postcard are unauthorized and not the work of the author.”

Local Publication of the Month: Adbusters Quarterly, a newsprint magazine on how we are all prisoners of the North American ad culture and even what we can do about it. A sort of radicalized McLuhanism, from the apparent capital of anarchist thought in the western hemisphere, Vancouver.

Modulations: The KZOK-AM frequency, long known as KJET and more recently as KQUL (which played moldie-oldies automation tapes inherited from the old KUUU), is playing new (or at least recently-recorded) music again, mass-market metal under the slogan Z-Rock. If the quintessential KJET song was Talking Heads’ “Once in a Lifetime,” the quintessential Z-Rock song is Guns n’ Roses’ “Paradise City.” It’s nice that the new format also has room for local acts, though a lot of it sounds like KZOK sounded in 1979.

Cathode Corner: I’m trying to decide whether The Simpsons is the best TV show of the past 10 years or the best ever. From Bart’s different weekly chalkboard affirmations (“I will not instigate revolution”) to the gags you need a pause button to get (the nuclear-plant entrance sign, “Unauthorized Visitors Will Be Shot”), every second is packed with sharp humor and social commentary. And to think that it all comes from an ex-Olympian, Matt Groening (whose Life in Hell list of Forbidden Words for the ’90s alone qualifies him as world-class). The show’s setting, Springfield, is, of course, the name of the most famous “hick town” in Groening’s native Oregon; the nuclear plant where Homer Simpson works looks a lot like the one north of Portland on the Columbia. Am pleased to report that Bart T-shirts are being visibly displayed as far away as Federal Way, with Bart-head-shaped bubble gum due in June.

Everything’s Not Coming Up Roses: Oregon has a lot to cheer about this winter, between The Simpsons, the TrailBlazers and the OSU men’s basketball team. But there’s no pride in the governor’s race, in which incumbent Neil Goldschmit was forced out when rumors of a marital split came true (apparently we can have a divorced man in the White House but not in Salem). The rumor about the rumor claims it was started by GOP candidate Leon Frohmeyer, state attorney general and self-proclaimed environmentalist (really, say more radical eco-activists, an architect of compromise deals with logging and mining interests).

Power Politics: Downtown Blackout II lasted four hours, while its ’88 predecessor lasted four days. Could City Light have worked harder knowing that the thousands of Lotto players in three counties were losing their chances at becoming $6 million men and women (Lotto’s dedicated computer-phone lines are routed through downtown)? Ehh, probably not….

Tourist Trappings: Some multinational has started a mini-cruise ship, the Spirit of Puget Sound. Its ads promise “three hours of live entertainment and fabulous food” along with the usual seaside scenery. Don’t they know what the phrase “a three-hour tour” has come to mean?

Junk Food of the Month: Frozen dinners for kids. Banquet and others have devised microwave versions of all the classic kiddie meals (hot dogs, chicken, chili, etc.) with stereotyped kiddie graphics on the boxes. They’re presumably intended for the growing numbers of offspring with all-working parents, who must fend for themselves after school. Wish I had those things back when I was in that situation.

End of the ’80s Item #4: Perrier water can be bad for you!

Street of Silence: It’s sad to witness the death-by-installments of Broadway, the Aurora Village of urban business districts. Speculators would rather see buildings go empty than lower unrealistic rents. Hence, over a dozen major storefronts are now empty, from the venerable Broadway Theater to the Benneton sweater stand that replaced the cool Different Drummer bookstore. Even Sir Mix-A-Lot doesn’t cruise there much anymore, now that he’s got a house in Kent. Only Keeg’s remains of thesix furniture stores that had made Broadway Seattle’s furniture row back when E. Pike was its auto row. (But the long-pending Dairy Queen finally opened, that venerable chain’s first in-town Seattle store since the mid-’70s.)

(latter-day note: Broadway again thrives, with indie businesses replacing downsizing chains (including an ethnic restaurant where Dairy Queen was). Aurora Village got demolished. Keeg’s closed, leaving no more furniture stores on Capitol Hill except used office furniture outlets.)

Street of Noise: The Pike Place Market authorities are all a-flutter over what they claim are semi-secret plans by the NYC speculators who may or may not own the buildings to turn the Market into a high-priced, chain-stored parody of itself. What they’re not saying is that this would only accelerate a process the Market leaders already instigated, starting with sweatshirt stores and tourist-oriented parking projects. The promotion of the Market as a sight rather than a marketplace has already affected the remaining farmers, who see Saturday after Saturday of crowded walkways full of sightseers but bereft of actual food purchasers.

Ink Inc.: Just as we declared Spy magazine “outski” for 1990, imitations began to sprout. If the real Spy’s quaint we’re-from-New-York-and-you’re-not attitude doesn’t quite get your soul afire, you can enjoy self-conscious prose, retro art and graph-chart stories inWigwag (for the Garrison Keillor audience), Forbes Publishing’s Egg (for the most emptyheaded lifestyle wannabes), and Time Warner’s Entertainment Weekly, designed by Mark Michaelson (who worked on the infamous summer ’79 UW Daily with Lynda Barry, John Keister, Pulitzer-nominated cartoonist Mike Lukovich, and an underachieving writer who does some little newsletter about pop culture). And is it a mere coincidence that the mass media have become overtaken with chronicling the daily life of Spy’s most frequent satirical target, Donald Trump?

Hearts and Thorns: If Christmas is when everybody’s expected to be in a nuclear family, then Valentine’s Day is when every adult is expected to be in a couple. This is a reasonable if superficial conclusion from the newspapers and the self-help books. There are, at last, support groups for people who need to learn about getting out of bad relationships, but still none about getting into good ones. To admit one’s wish to share one’s life with another goes against the unisex rugged individualism of early-’90s America. To call a place a “singles’ bar” these days is to be insulting; to still be out looking is to be shut out of a lot of social activities and, despite insurance-institute reports that hetero AIDS may never take off in this country, even to be denounced as a menace to society. At least you can get candy really cheap during the following week.

My Nightmare: I dreamed of an old man with white hair whining, “Ever wonder why you can’t get your hooded robes white again after a night of cross burning? Nothing seems to get all the smoke and ash out, not even the old-fashioned real bleach with the sediment at the bottom of the jug.”… I also have dreams in which Denny Hill was never torn down, and had by now become Seattle’s most fashionable residential neighborhood.

‘Til next time, write your Senators to stop the ban against Silly String (we have only one party to spray for our country!), see Roger & Me, don’t buy from the itinerant street gang of perfume salespeople, beware of any self-proclaimed “environmental President” who came from the top of the oil industry, and heed these words of Tim O’Brien: “A real war story is never moral. If a war story seems moral, do not believe it.”

REPORT

Factsheet Five, the Publisher’s Weekly of Xerox and desktopped literature, likes MISC. “Witty and interesting, even for those of us who live clear across the continent,” sez editor Mike Gundelroy. If you like it half as much, you might consider subscribing to MISC. (with one of Fait Divers’* funny mini-posters as a free gift).

(*Say “Fay Dee Vare”)

BEACON

Philosopher Elaine Pagels, interviewed in Bill Moyers’ A World of Ideas: “Guilt involves a sense of importance in the drama. To say that one is not guilty is also to acknowledge that one is in fact quite powerless.”

WORD OF THE MONTH

“Ataraxia”

2/90 Misc. Newsletter

LATIN DEBATE: IS THIS YEAR “MCMXC” OR “MCMLXL”?

Return with us now to Misc., the monthly information source that hopes one day to earn the phrase a Wall St. Journal headline (1/16) gave to Boeing’s Pentagon spy, “Loyal to Seattle to the End.”

More Than Meets the Eye?: We love to study the mysteries of the world, the unexplained phenomena that some discount as mere coincidence. One such mystery occurred with Ranger Charlie, the jovial host of KSTW’s morning cartoons for the past year. Sometime in December, he disappeared from the screen, leaving his puppet raccoon friend Roscoe in charge. Finally, in January, Roscoe again had Ranger Charlie to banter with — only the beloved ranger had become shorter, younger, and female. Now, that’s something you don’t see in cartoons, not even on The Transformers.

The Fine Print (from a P-I ad insert): “Safeway’s 1/4-inch trim is trimmed to 1/4-inch external fat excluding natural depressions in the contour of the underlying meat.”

The Not-So-Fine Print: A Crown Books in-store poster touts a discount dictionary as the “best in it’s class.” Never buy a dictionary from people who can’t spell. The book in question is a reprint of the ’83 version (since supplanted) of theRandom House Dictionary, inherited via a series of Random House subsidiaries by “Portland House, New York,” successor to the Oregon computer-book house dilithium press.

Local Publication of the Month: The Way of the Lover, a self-help book of sorts by West Vancouver, B.C. spiritualist Robert Agustus Masters. You might not immediately buy into the mythological or meditative content, but you’ve gotta love such chapter titles as “Releasing Sex (and Everything Else) from the Obligation to Make Us Feel Better.”… The Weekly-ization of the local press continues, as local media hype Hawaii tourism this winter as never before. The Times andWashington magazine even ran “editorial” sections trying to find local-angle stories about a place thousands of miles away…. Caverns, a “collaborative novel” by Ken Kesey’s Univ. of Oregon writing class, is a plain piece of commercial storytelling, recommended only for those interested in how it was made (like me) and Kesey completists (unlike me).

Cathode Corner: KING’s first ads after the flood-day (1/9) 11 pm news were two of those awful Infiniti spots wherein you don’t see the car, just a lot of water; followed by a spot with the opening line “drowning in a sea of high bills?”…. Ted Turner, who expects to lose millions on the Seattle Goodwill Games, tried to make a little of it back by colorizing Jailhouse Rock, a film made in ’57 (well into the Eastmancolor era) with a major star, at a time when the only major black and white films were done deliberately that way…. The Mary Tyler Moore Show was almost set in Seattle, instead of Minneapolis. According to a new book about the show, its producers felt that a show filmed before a live audience would need to be set in a town where people spent lots of their time in small indoor rooms. (As you recall, MTM went on in ’70, a year before All in the Family and after several years of sitcoms with outdoor scenes and canned laughter.) As the show coalesced, they decided Minnesota was more indoorsy than Seattle. Instead of Hüsker Du remaking the MTM theme (by old Buddy Holly sideman Sonny Curtis), it could’ve been Capping Day or even Pure Joy.

A Classic Tragedy: Cable’s American Movie Classics channel seldom lives up to its name (most of its flicks are dated Don Ameche vehicles); but on 1/14 it ran one of the weirdest pieces of video ever shot: the Frances Farmer episode of This Is Your Life. The 1958 live telecast, made at the start of Farmer’s return to public life after her lobotomy, shows the Seattle-born actress staring into space while greasy-haired host Ralph Edwards (who also created Truth or Consequences) rattled off a summary of her sad life story. During her turns to speak, she looked offstage (possibly to a prompter). In an elegant but slurred voice, she slowly explained that “I did not believe and still do not believe that I was truly ill.” At the end, she was rewarded for her bravery with a new Edsel.

Junk Food of the Month: Hostess Lite! Thicker snack cakes, slightly less sweet, for “grown-ups.” Most of the reduction in calories is due to a reduction in size from the regular Hostess product…. Burger King announced new oat bran buns for its burgers, just before the gov’t. announced that the oat bran craze had been based on exaggerated claims…. Chateau Ste. Michelle has brought out a special bottling of ’86 Chenin Blanc to honor the UW’s 125th Anniversary. It would have been a more appropriate tribute if it had been a wine more UW people drink: cheap Chablis in a box. But then again, this grad can’t imagine what a UW frat was doing with a sheep during induction week, except perhaps to show it off as a role model.

Praying for a Space: Chicago’s Catholics are faced with declining attendance and a priest shortage, but one downtown parish is investing in a new church building, to be financed by a 20-story parking garage to be built above the sanctuary. They’re just following the lead of my childhood denomination: Chicago Methodists already have a downtown church-office tower and a neighborhood church with a Fotomat booth in its front yard.

The Severed Arm of the Law: A North Carolina firm’s selling a “lawyer doll,” the heads and limbs of which are attached with Velcro for easy mangling, apparently to place curses on lawyers for the other side of your case. Or, you could leave it headless to resemble your own attorney. Such quasi-voodoo rituals didn’t help Noriega, but who says they won’t work for you?

Reach Out and Severely Inconvenience Someone: The AT&T system crash, in which about half of the long-distance network simply refused to put calls through, shows that even the ex-Ma Bell is no longer a paragon of American technological supremacy. The big glitch was blamed on faulty software; just the admission they’d like to make while AT&T’s computer unit tries to wrestle control of its UNIX computer system software back from various licensees.

What’s With Utne These Days?: Utne Reader, the bimonthly digest of the alternative press, now has its very own Publishers’ Clearing House stamp, right between Stamps and Time. When you win your $10 million in the sweepstakes, you can read how to put the dough into socially responsible investments.

Those Phunny Phoreigners: This sign in a Northwest Trek-style wildlife park in Nara, Japan, is noted in the book Gems of Japanized English by Miranda Kendrick: “CAUTION: Everybody: Take care of Hind! It is the season Fawn is born about this time. It may be case if you approach him, his mother deer being full of maternal love gives you a kick by her forefeet.”

We’re Only In It for the Freedom: The first U.S. private citizen to meet with new Czech president Vaclav Havel wasn’t an industrialist or banker but Frank Zappa. Havel, it turns out, is a longtime Zappa fan; during his years as a banned playwright, he let banned musicians, such as the Zappa-influenced Plastic People of the Universe, record tapes in his country house. Zappa may use his friendship with this anti-authoritarian hero to bolster his fight against rock censorship. Zappa would probably be upset by managers of the new Yakima domed arena, who wouldn’t let the B-52s bring the Greenpeace info booth the band has had outside every tour date. The arena bosses claimed it would “set a bad precedent.”

Tomorrow Ain’t What It Usta Be: The Futurist magazine has published some wild ‘n’ wacky predictions for the ’90s. Among them: Flight from the Greenhouse Effect may make Canada more populous than the U.S. Cash money will become illegal for all but very small transactions. Computers with automatic language translation and voice synthesis will enable people to speak in one language that listeners will hear translated into another language. Computer chips will be in everything from houses to clothing. Household robots may be as common as refrigerators. Almost one-fourth of the world’s population will be Moslem. Self-propelled, computerized lawn mowers will be able to “see” where the grass needs to be cut and to avoid trees. Remember, these may be the same seers who said we’d now have home helicopters but not home computers.

‘Til March, you might as well abandon the Sonics this year and root for the Seattle-owned Portland TrailBlazers, thank the nondenominational dieties that there will be no Robert Fulghum sitcom (which would have starred John Denver), and review these words by author/educator John Gardner: “More people fail at becoming successful businessmen than fail at becoming artists.”

PASSAGE

Julio Cortazar in the “Love 77” chapter of A Certain Lucas (1979):

“And after doing everything they do, they get up, they bathe, they powder themselves, they perfume themselves, they comb their hair, they get dressed, and so, progressively, they go about going back to being what they aren’t.”

OFFER

Tell your friends about Misc., the one piece of monthly first-class mail they’ll be glad to get. New subscribers will receive the humorous essay “God as I Understand Him” and first word on future Fait Divers products (the computer novel The Perfect Couple, special mini-posters).

WORD OF THE MONTH

“Descry”

Art of Music Video

Review for Wire, 1/9/90

I will hear no grumblings about whether the 911 Contemporary Art Center was proper in running The Art of Music Video, five Saturday nights of video clips screened in 911’s new, beautiful but as-yet unheated room. Yes, you hippie Luddites and punk purists out there, the music video is an art form. And, yes, most of it isn’t worth the magnetic media from which it can be erased. But the existence of Patience does not diminish the power of Accidents Will Happen, just as Harlequin Romances do not nullify the work of Daphne Du Maurier.

It’s an older art form than most people realize. Even in the silent era, animators Max and Dave Fleischer made sing-along cartoons, accompanied in theaters by an organist. The first experimental sound films were musical shorts. The images in Busby Berkeley’s 1930s musical numbers often held no relation to the narrative of the films surrounding them. Through the ’50s, top singers and bands made shorts for theaters and “movie jukeboxes”. By the ’60s, TV channels in Europe ran clips by the Beatles, the Stones and others. In the early ’70s, the Residents and Frank Zappa were setting their idiosyncratic identities down on film. Devo made videos before they made a record.

Since The Art of Music Video was a series of clips that themselves were sequences of momentary images, it may be best to review it with some random highlights:

* Bruce Conner has pioneered the collage film almost since the first mushroom-cloud stock footage became available. He’s worked with Devo and David Byrne, but back in ’61, he put together Cosmic Ray, using Ray Charles’ “What’d I Say” as the rhythm for intercut shots of burlesque dancers and explosions. Typical music-video cliches, done first and more intense.

* The Residents, in a medium known for self-aggrandizement above all else, have been making videos since 1972 without showing their faces. They may even work better on video than on record, since images and narrative give a greater immersion into their refracted universe.

* Megadeth’s Peace Sells But Who’s Buying? proves that art and art-pop bands aren’t the only ones who can do good video. Director Robert Longo succeeds with these guitar antiheroes by cutting image after image into a visual assault as aggressive as the band’s aural one. (Longo was also represented with Tonight Tonight Tonight, a one-minute dialogue sketch done entirely in song titles. That was shown in a selection of MTV Art Breaks, little fillers commissioned from avant filmmakers, a concept whose logical extreme lies in G. Brotmeyer’s colorized version of Luis Bunuel’s Un Chien Andalou.

* Jim Blashfield of Portland may be the first great Northwest filmmaker. Blashfield (co-founder of Clinton St. magazine) uses an unmistakable “cut-out” animation technique with still photos. Whether the artist in question is Paul Simon or Byrne (or even Tears for Fears or Michael Jackson), they’re but tourists, traveling in the form of hand-painted matte shots through Blashfield’s world.

* Two contractual-obligation videos, made with as little participation as possible by bands still scorning video (at the time), proved to be among the best. Noted UK filmmaker Derek Jarman supplied the Smiths with appropriately moody, slowly-moving visual wallpaper. Bill Pope and Randy Skinner gave those back-to-basics Replacements about the ultimate in back-to-basics video: just a throbbing bass speaker on a stereo system playing the song on a vinyl record. (It’s one of a series of Replacements clips with slight differences; in one, a Young Fresh Fellows LP can briefly be seen.)

* La La La Human Steps’ modern-dance film only vaguely qualifies as a music video, but it was a great clip and may be the final filmed record of the great Showbox (whose fate is open again, the Empty Space Theater having decided not to use it after finding asbestos in all the walls).

In conclusion, a good video DOES NOT turn your mind to mush, obliterate the imagination or overpower the music. It adds another dimension to the ideas being communicated. Of course, acts with no ideas in their music tend to have none in their videos either; as video became more popular, more formulatic people made them. The trick now is to reclaim the creativity behind the best of both sight and sound media, to insist that music and music video can and should be wonderful.

12/89 Misc. Newsletter

Seahawks Keep Losing,

Preventing Those Costly Fan-Noise Penalties

Welcome to the decade-ending edition of Misc., the monthly newsletter that tells you what’s hot and what’s lukewarm. What’s hot includes, as you’ve been hearing, the American flag, recently declared by an act of Congress to be a sacred image, incapable of being legally destroyed or tampered with. Since the flag and, presumably, all representations of the flag now must be preserved at any cost, we should test its efficacy by painting its inviolate image on the exterior walls of the otherwise-doomed Music Hall and Broadway theaters.

MOON PICTURES: Meanwhile, the drive to save the Blue Moon Tavern continues, despite misleading articles in the police-blotter newspapers about its landlord’s scheme to build a “new” Moon in a proposed office building on the Moon’s site. It’d be a gentrified, beatnik-nostalgia theme bar, not the real thing at all. Next door on the same threatened parcel, the Rainbow was reincarnated for one week as the Saturn Music Club, before the strip-show operator paid up some back rent and came back.

NEWS ITEM OF THE MONTH (P-I, 11/3): “A smorgasbord of pants for women to choose from.” We’ll be sure to keep you posted in the event of any great pun headlines involving new UW Symphony conductor Peter Eros.

TROUBLE A-BREWIN’: Rainier Beer boss Alan Bond, whose legal problems over his Australian TV network (now under appeal) we discussed earlier, can also be accused of legal but still nefarious crimes against art. The $37 million or so he bid for a Van Gogh helped to permanently escalate the price of masterpieces, preventing museums from acquiring any more for public viewing while decreasing the amount of private-collection money available to living artists. All that, and he might not even get to keep the thing. He borrowed half the purchase money from the auction house (which was eager to increase speculation prices), and might not be able to pay it back.

TRUTH IS STRANGER DEPT.: Longtime arms negotiator Paul Nitze sez the US and USSR negotiating teams often sat within an unbuggable plastic “bubble” for secrecy during the most delicate phases of their dealings. And you thought Get Smart just made up the Cone of Silence!

THE FINE PRINT: This comes from the credits to Married With Children: “ELP Communications is the author of this film/motion picture for purposes of Article 15(2) of the Berne Convention and all national laws giving effect thereto.” It’s good ‘n’ bureaucratic, but not the best credits disclaimer. That’d have to go either to The Hollywood Squares’ old explanation of how “the categories of questions and possible bluff answers are discussed with the celebrities prior to the program. During the course of the briefing, actual questions and/or answers may be given or discerned by the celebrities.”

PLANE SCARY: A Seattle inventor has announced his plans for a “flying car,” a 2-passenger VTOL plane. In a few years, he sez, commuters could take to the air for their daily travels. Flight could become a routine way of life for millions. You already know what this means: Get ready for drunk drivers in the sky, crashing not into ditches or other cars, but into your roof!

BOUNCING CZECHS: From here, looks like the turmoil in the USSR and Eastern Europe might mean not the end of Socialism but of the generation of yes-man leadership left after Stalin’s purges. Columnist William Safire, obviously bereft at the loss of the Cold War’s simplicities, has been predicting the imminent end of Glasnost for so long that he’s sounding like a frustrated revival preacher forced to announce postponed dates for the second coming. I, though, compare today’s Eastern chaos to the high school counselor who, when a new teenage mother asked when things are going to go back to normal, replied, “From now on, this is normal.”

JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Bisquick Shake n’ Pour Pancake Mix. Just pour water into the plastic bottle of powder, shake vigorously, and squeeze out the batter onto your hot griddle. Just add a pat of imitation margarine and some lo-cal syrup, and you’ve got an authentic ersatz lumberjack meal.

STRANGE BEDFELLOWS DEPT.: Jim Bakker and Lyndon LaRouche are being incarcerated in the same low-security prison. As it’s well known that criminals learn their trade best from colleagues, expect some massive scams when they get out. You’ll be cryingly asked to support nuclear power in the name of God, to fund evangelistic missions towards the “heathen” land of Britain.

STOVE TOP GRUFFING: An anti-wood-stove lobby, Citizens Against Woodstove Fumes, has bought bus billboards asking folks to think about the consequences of their cozy little fires. They claim that home heating by wood, one of the back-to-nature fads that survived past the end of the ’70s, releases more pollution into the environment per home served than hydroelectricity, gas, or even oil (not counting spills). I don’t know if that’s true, but it does increase the deforestation of the Northwest. I also know that in the third world, wood for home heating is used chiefly by those too poor to use more efficient schemes.

HAPPY RETURNS: So Seattle elected a mayor named Rice, and a city councilwoman whose mom owns a Chinese restaurant. Norm Rice deservedly got national press for his achievement, though the stories didn’t mention a big part of the victory, the fact that Seattle voters politely but affirmatively refused the divide-and-conquer tactics Doug Jewett learned from Reagan, Bush and Ed Koch. It shows there are people here who reject not just the new towers and condos, but the political mentality that goes with them.

LOCAL PUBLICATIONS OF THE MONTH: Belles Lettres are little gift books, each containing one classic short story and elegant Po-Mo illustrations. While two NYC companies are credited, the books are really the work of local designers and photographers, headed by Seattle editor Jana Stone.…The Whole Toon Catalog is a mail-order collection of almost every animation video and book available for sale (if only they’d add a rental store). $2 from Box 1604, 4739 University Way NE, 98105….Washington Songs and Lore is the one state-centennial book to bring the pioneer days of noble fur trappers (long before Bob Barker) and Victorian matriarchs to something approaching life. It’s full of Old West clichés, but it’s still a step forward from most the nature-tourist orientation of most “regional” books, which seem to ignore the existence of humans or of social institutions.

INFO ATTAINMENT: Pledge of Resistance, a local pro-Sandinista group, visited hundreds of newspaper boxes throughout Seattle in the wee hours of 11/14, wrapping its own two-page Seattle Past-Intelligencer: Special Citizens’ Edition around copies of the real P-I. The result would make for a semotician’s field day: All the normal local crime stories and human-interest fluff inside, while the front page spoke exclusively of Contra and El Salvador Army atrocities (with an “Editors’ Apology” for not having reported them sooner). The desktop-published type made the new cover an obvious phony, but the split-second illusion of a local paper with a backbone inspired a hope that more political advocates will make active, accessible attempts to truly communicate with the populace (as opposed to shouting worthless buzzwords).

BOUND FOR DOOM: NY Times and Wall St. Journal articles predict big anguish for the book biz, due not to any lack of sales but to conglomerate mismanagement. Companies and writers were bought for more than they were worth. An elaborate system of advertising and chain-store promos failed to make guaranteed bestsellers. The ensuing shakeout may disprove the claims of “synergy” used in promoting media mergers.

SHOP RITE: Among the local products being hawked this Xmas are such board games as Nordstrom’s Nordopoly and Struggle,which promises to “teach kids the challenges of living in the real world.” U-Men Brand jackets and sweatshirts are being sold by an area firm, but aren’t authorized by the now-dormant punk band that created the name. Musts-to-avoid include the Bon’s $20 home video on proper scarf tying.

`TIL OUR NEXT REPORT at the start of the ’90s (can’t you just wait for 10 years from now, when everybody’s going to count the top 10 movies of the last millennium?), complete with our annual and only accurate In/Out list, read Julian Barnes’ A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters, don’t see Back to the Future Part II, and cognate on these timely lyrics by the Soviet rock group DDT: “I don’t like life. I want it.”

VOICES

Anias Nin in The All-Seeing:

“Two people who love the dream above all else would soon vanish altogether. One of them must be on earth to hold the other down. And the pain of being held down by the earth, that is what our love of others shall be.”

FORUM

We’re still looking for your suggestions for our annual In/Out list, to be published in January. Send your suggestions in now, before somebody else does.

WORD OF THE MONTH

“Olefiant”

INS/OUTS FOR ’90

This list covers trends that will be emerging and submerging over the next year.

Last year we successfully predicted the return to the public eye of waffles and Brigitte Bardot.

This is not a substitute for professional psychographic analysis.

11/89 Misc. Newsletter

Empty Space Renovators Find Asbestos in Showbox Walls;

You Thought the Punks Looked Deadly!

Welcome to yet another ennui-packed edition of Misc., the column that wonders whether Monty Python’s Graham Chapman would have wanted to die on the same day as, and have his obituary upstaged by that of, the race horse Secretariat, and decides that he might well have. This is the special newsletter edition, containing (not much, but some) additional material, cut from the version in ArtsFocus. While that tabloid was on indefinite hiatus this summer, I put out a special newsletter version and solicited for subscriptions. Two people replied. This is for them, and anyone else who might end up applying for the mailing list.

NO JANE, NO PAIN: I do not mourn the impending departure of Jane Pauley, who has held her position on Today for 13 years despite a distinct incompetence. She was particularly bad in her early years, but still maintained a level of journalistic ineptitude to the end (we’ve already mentioned her interview with the Seattle Rep’s Dan Sullivan, in which she never “got” the idea that non-NYC theater is real theater).

STAGE OF DECLINE: The demise of the Pioneer Square Theater has been dissected elsewhere. I’ll simply note that at one time, a local theater company was able to support itself mostly on its own receipts, and might have continued to do so had its original team stayed in town. Another case of LA ruining everything.

SPECIAL INTEREST: The John Lennon purists (a bunch of gracelessly-aging ex-potheads) may scorn the memorial Visa cards authorized by Yoko, but I love ’em. There’s nothing quite like going over your limit as the receipt-stamper pulls across the face that sang “Imagine no possessions.”

THE WORLD SERIOUS: So the A’s, thanks to Mike Moore and their other ex-Mariners, finally won. “But where in all this,” you haven’t asked, “is ex-A’s owner Charles O. Finley, the man who wanted to give us orange baseballs?” He’s still dabbling in sports. While Oakland was in mourning over the quake, Finley was safe up here, giving a public demonstration of his new glow-in-the-dark footballs. Their fluorescent green stripes are supposed to make them more visible at night in dimly-lit high school stadia; which would ruin one of the joys of the high-school game. O well, at least they’ll still have under-the-bleachers fights and the sound of both schools’ bands simultaneously playing “On Wisconsin” as their own fight song.

COME BACK, SAM! ALL IS FORGIVEN!: Am still trying to learn whether the Samuel E. Schulman credited as publisher of the new magazine Wigwag is the illustrious ex-Sonics owner and B-movie mogul of the same name. The mag is subtitled “A Picture of American Life;” it looks a bit like Spy and reads a lot like the last half-hour of All Things Considered. Lotsa smug Ivy League “populism” and pretentious cuteness. It does have one nice item on loneliness from the only single black woman in Tucson.

THE PLANE TRUTH: At this writing, the Boeing strike is going strong. It’s a novelty among recent U.S. strikes: it’s against an industrial manufacturer that’s been doing well enough that the usual pleas that the battered workers “sacrifice a little more” to keep management comfy just don’t work. If successful, this may be the turning point in American labor. People at Boeing and other firms may be getting tired of being pushed around, of getting sick from hazardous chemicals only to have management claim it’s just psychosomatic or “hysterical,” of being treated as a mere “cost” to be “contained,” of having any disagreement with any of this denounced as disloyalty to the corporate “family.”

MEANWHILE, Martin Selig’s fall from the heights of local office development should not surprise. In an ongoing attempt to cut corners from the costs of his big projects, he’s been late on payments to smaller suppliers for years. He got caught when he tried to slow down his payments to outfits big enough to fight back: first City Light, then some big creditors. In the end though, an ex-strip-mall-builder in an overbuilt market was no match for the big guys from LA and Toronto, now poised for total dominance.

TOY BOY: The first Xmas product with promise is the Heartthrob game by Milton Bradley, the years-late answer to Mattel’s Mystery Date game (circa 1962). It’s for girls ages 8-12, who draw and trade cards pertaining to their ideal boy’s traits, trying to assemble the most attractive guy possible.

GAS PAINS: The great oil slump continues, as Chevron sells or demolishes some of its most prominent locations (Ballard and Market, Evergreen Point) while the independent Gull sells all its Seattle stations. Gull, along with Mobil, thus joins these other long-gone brands from town (how many do you remember?): American, Carter, Douglas, Enco, Flying A, General, Gilmore, Gulf, Hancock, Hudson, Payless, Phillips 66, Red Crown, Richfield, Rocket, Signal, Standard, Time, USA, Valvoline, Vickers, and Wilshire. Seattle never had any outlets, however, for Clark Oil (no relation), the Midwestern brand that sold premium gas only.

JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Belgian waffle snacks at Gaufres (“gauf”), a storefront at 106 James with the shortest menu of any restaurant in town. For a buck, you get a small cup of coffee and a hot, glazed waffle on a sheet of wax paper. No butter, syrup, or whipped cream; this is finger food. Eat too many, though, and you’ll have a “gauf figure.”…Seattle’s Starting Right Co. now has the first gourmet frozen dinners for babies – strained, pre-cooked mounds of rice/squash/cod, zucchini/potatoes/beef, and pasta/carrots/turkey.

LOCAL PUBLICATIONS OF THE MONTH: Miscellania Unlimited (again, no relation) is launching a new line of Northwest-produced comic books. The starting lineup ranges from the funny-philosophical Morty the Dog (who was “killed off” during his previous series from Starhead Comics; how he returns is the chief mystery) to the all-too-typical Rhaj (a female warrior in ancient Egypt with big eyes, a big knife, and a bigger bare bosom)…. I wish somebody here had a paper as lively as the Portland Free Press. It’s a monthly left-anarchist broadsheet concerned with toxic dumping, deforestation, and particularly with the Citizens Crime Commission, a panel of Oregon’s wealthiest and most powerful people who lobby for more prisons and fewer civil rights using the “drug emergency” for a justification….Every two months Factsheet Five, a national directory of small-press and self-published matter, includes several listings of Seattle-area “zines” available only by mail. As space permits, I’ll occasionally reprint one of these listings. This time it’s The Whetstone, described by FF (haven’t seen it myself) as “a new ‘magazine for independent people’ on news ignored by the major media…the alleged A-bomb test at Port Chicago in 1944, the AIDS-syphilis connection and alternative high-energy sources.” Available for $15/4 issues from FIFE Publications, Box 45792, Seattle 98145-0792.

THE KING AND THEM: Yul Brynner, according to one of those son-of-star-tells-all books, had steamy affairs with many of your favorite Hollywood leading ladies, and also with the actress who later became Nancy Reagan. It’s a gruesome thought, I know, but not as shocking as a pic published last year in the French Photo magazine, a full-frontal nude of a pre-stardom Brynner — with hair on his scalp!

COLOR ME BLUE: COCA recently held a performance by NY artist Mike Bildo. Three local women walked onstage and spent the next 10 minutes brushing bright blue paint on their nude selves. Occasionally, Bildo instructed the models to tastefully flay themselves on one of two large paper “canvases.” A group calling itself the Gorilla Girls picketed outside, calling the work an “appropriation” of women. The Gorillas’ literature drew heavily on quotes from Alice Walker, a writer who has dismissed any criticism of her work with the all-damning phrase “white male attitude.” The Bildo piece did NOT advocate male power over women. It questioned the valuesof originality and individualism, a topic frequently covered in feminist art writing. The models, the six clothed musicians, and Bildo were all re-enacting roles devised in 1960 by conceptual-art pioneer Yves Klien, who in turn was commenting on both French ooh-la-la exhibitionism and on the role of the nude figure in art. (Bildo’s enactment was closer to Klein’s concept than was the re-edited version of Klien’s event in the exploitation film Mondo Cane ). Body painting is an old tradition in other cultures, and has oft been used in Western alternative art. Weeks before Bildo, Karen Finley appeared on the same stage, her nude self covered in chocolate syrup, giving a charged lecture on bodies and body images. The chocolate motif had been used in ’74, with similar metaphors, in Dusan Makajayev’s Sweet Movie. The UK female punk band The Slits once posed for an album cover in mud and loincloths (as re-created this fall by the Seattle male punk band Mudhoney). Had the Gorilla Girls overcome their own stereotypical notions about gender and power, they’d have been treated to a spectacle full of images worthy of smart criticism. (Something like this section may appear in the KCMU Wire).

IN CONCLUSION, copies of the special “What I Did This Summer” report are available by sending a SASE to Box 203, 1630 Boylston, Seattle 98122, as is information on my novel The Perfect Couple (currently available only as Macintosh computer software). Until our next report, vote for Rice (claiming you’re “too hip to vote” is just the same as voting for Jewett), see the Art of Music Video Festival at 911 (no, I won’t bow to the current fashion and call it “the 911 space,” though I might start calling my home “the Clark space”), and remember this quotation from Goethe: “Everything that needs to be found out has been found out.The hard part is finding it again.”

10/89 Misc. Newsletter

(the first self-contained newsletter edition)

Welcome one and all to the never-say-die return of Misc., the only column in town that wonders why “original flavor” toothpaste doesn’t taste like “original flavor” bubble gum.

This is a successor to a column that ran monthly in ArtsFocus magazine for three years. For those who weren’t with us before our summer hiatus, this is a compendium of things that usually aren’t official art events, but are still part of the world in which we and our arts live. Much of this edition happens to consist of corporate mating and decompsing rituals; other months have dealt with politics, books, religion, music, mass behavior, fine food and wine.

WHAT I DID THIS SUMMER: I celebrated the 15th anniversary of Nixon’s resignation (far more important than the 20th anniv. of Woodstock) by meditating on the “herald of impeachment” still displayed at the Comet Tavern and reminiscing about those pre-Reagan days, when fewer people mistook corruption for a virtue. I finished a novel, to be put out somewhere within the next year. Saw the opening of the first segment of the bus tunnel, a slick brown shopping-mall-of-transit designed to make suburban commuters feel at home. Also saw the construction of the Outlet Mall, now open with complete designer stores by Liz Claiborne, Evan Piccone and others, right on the Burlington exit to the north Sound’s Calif.-colony “getaways.” The annual Popllama Records Picnic was censored by anti-rock forces in the Snohomish County Sheriff’s Dept., but promoter Conrad Uno may have kept happy by pretending he was the guy all this summer’s headlines from Japan were about. This second greenhouse-effect summer ended on a stunning autumnal equinox day (even to me, not a weather person). The Ave’s venerable Cafe Allegro was closed for the wedding of two longtime employees (the reception there, the alternative ceremony at the U’s Medicinal Herb Garden). Later that night, Broadway’s Gravity Bar stayed open all night for performances and tarot readings.

DENTAL FLOSS TYCOONS: According to a Wall St. Journal piece, two guys in a New York jail spent months quietly trading cigarettes for dental floss, then hand-weaving the nylon thread into a sturdy rope. They used it one night to carefully climb down from their fourth-floor window. They were still seen by a passerby and got caught.

THE EMPEROR’S NUE CLOTHES: Robert Campeau was forced to turn over control of his dept. store empire to bankers. For a clue to his possible mismanagement, note Campeau’s Bon Marché and its slogan, “The Nue Hits for Back to School.” You’d think a Quebeçois would know better than to sell clothes via the French feminine word for “nude.” (Of course, it’d fit if the promotion includedGuess? jeans.)… Nordstrom might buy Marshall Field of Chicago, which owned Frederick & Nelson for over 50 years. If so, then Frederick’s will be paying Nordy’s for the right to make Frangos (Frederick’s invented them, but Field’s kept the copyright when it sold Frederick’s).

NEWS ITEM OF THE MONTH (Times, 8/12): “Incarceration for man called too short.” Runner-up (P-I, 8/30): “Margo St. James wants to see a prostitute for president” (haven’t most of them been?).

JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Frosty Paws are imitation ice cream treats for dogs, made with no harmful lactose. “Not harmful to humans, but made for dogs.” For humans, meanwhile, there are the new Trix Pops, by General Mills subsidiary Vroman Foods, in the three classic Trix colors (including Orange Orange!)…. Ralston Purina’s new Barbie cereal is the same recipe as its Nintendo cereal; only the shapes and boxes are different. If boys and girls can’t be taught to play with the same toys, at least they can eat the same sugar puffs.

DIRTY DANCING ON MY GRAVE: Just a few months after Vestron Pictures flayed itself all over the Seattle International Film Festival, it went under. Still undetermined: the fate of Vestron’s unreleased products like the fake-DePalma ripoff Paint It Black and of Dan Ireland, whose onetime beloved Egyptian Theater was, at time of Vestron’s first layoffs, showing a cultured, sophisticated James Bond shoot-em-up…. Meanwhile, thanks to Sony’s buyouts, Columbia Pictures and Columbia Records are finally owned by the same company; while Disney’s acquisition of the Jim Henson organization was probably inevitable. Henson’s recent shows have gotten mired in the worst Disneyesque cutesy-wootsies.

WHOLE LOTTO BLUES: A Portland man killed himself in early Sept., thinking he’d lost a $3 million lottery ticket. In fact, he never had it, since the lottery computer registered no winner in that drawing. Undaunted by the bad PR, Ore. still plans to start legal football betting.

HOW WE DOIN’ ON TIME?: David Letterman turns out to be a shareholder and board member of one of the companies buying baseball’s own stupid human trick, the Mariners. He’s said how much he loves Seattle during segments with ex-locals George Miller and Lynda Barry, but that alone wouldn’t stop the majority owners from moving the team. We’ll know their intentions the next time they have to choose whether to keep a star player (Argyros got rid of anybody who got good enough to become expensive).

LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE MONTH: National Boycott News. Far from the amateur rabble sheet depicted in a recent Lacitis column, it’s a very long, well-researched compendium on who in corporate America is doing what and why we should care. Editor Todd Putnam keeps revising his listings to reflect changes in commercial behavior or new information, leading to fascinating sagas about the evolving notions of “good business.”

END OF THE ’80S ( #1): David Horsey’s Boomer’s Song, proclaimed “the worst comic strip in the papers” by our first Misc. column in ’86, has gone out with a whimper. No big Gary Larson/Berke Breathed sendoff; the P-I buried the strip’s discontinuation in a notice about the return of Andy Capp (formerly in the Times).

END OF THE ’80S (#2): That American institution, the convenience store, is in deep trouble. Circle K tried to make up for disappointing national sales by raising prices, a counterproductive move. Plaid Pantry is in bankruptcy, after trying to strike an alliance with Arco. Even the mighty 7-Eleven is reeling in debt from a buyout, and is raising short-term cash by turning company-owned outlets into franchises.

END OF THE `80S (#3): Cuisinarts Inc. declared bankruptcy. Only major asset: unsalable inventory. Has it been so long since its food processors were so scarce, you could only buy a certificate for one?

NO MORE MEAN GREEN?: The gov’t’s thinking of redesigning our money, officially to make cash transactions more traceable. They’d be the first changes since the exchange-for-silver guarantee was dropped. They could change the colors or even print Universal Product Codes with each serial number! This society sorely needs to de-mystify money; turning it into just another ugly official document might help.

’90S PREDICTION #1: The “drug war” is replacing the cold war as the official excuse to stage military adventures abroad. By strange coincidence, the only countries to be targeted will just happen to be countries where U.S. business interests seek more control over the local governments.

NORTHERN BYTES: If you haven’t been to Vancouver lately, you haven’t seen a city “go big time” and do it right, with some big exceptions. The downtown East End, a collection of residential hotels and pubs that some feared would be eradicated with Expo 86, has been preserved as a neighborhood and as a film site. It’s the unnamed city in 21 Jump Street; the downtown-underground portion of the light-rail system (above-ground elsewhere) was a murder site in the last Friday the 13th film. Expo itself is now a vacant concrete slab winding along the waterfront, except for three buildings: the Science World museum (check out the “Music Machines” room, sounds just like Throbbing Gristle playing Charles Ives); the 86 Street disco (where any slam dancing is punished with a thorough beating by the most fascistic bouncers in the west); and the floating McDonald’s. The BC gov’t sold the the rest to Hong Kong developers, whose predatory developments elsewhere in town have led to unfortunate racial attacks against the established Chinese-Canadian community. But the best sight in today’s Vancouver is a stencil-painted graffito downtown, “Jesus Saves,” modified by the spray-painted addition, “Gretzky scores on the rebound.”

YES, THERE WILL be another of these reports, and it will feature our own ’80s nostalgia review (get your nominations in now for what’s worth remembering and what’s lest-we-forget). `Til then, read the haunting comic book Beautiful Stories for Ugly Children, listen to Car Talk on KPLU, and heed these words of the immortal Irving Berlin: “You’re not sick. You’re just in love.”

Published monthly. Subscriptions: $6 per year by check to Clark Humphrey, 1630 Boylston #203, Seattle 98122. Contributions and suggestions are welcome but cannot be returned. All statements of fact in this report are, to the best of our knowledge, true; we will gladly retract anything proven false. All statements of opinion are the author’s sincere beliefs, NOT SPOOFS. (c) 1989 Fait Divers Enterprises.

6/89 ArtsFocus Misc.

C.A.P. WINS, WESTERN

CIVILIZATION DOESN’T END

(latter-day note: That was a city initiative measure to instill mild zoning controls on new high-rise office towers, fought bitterly by developers who are now bankrupt ‘cuz with today’s corporate downsizing they can’t fill the buildings they’ve already built.)

Welcome back to Misc., the column for a world where three AA-level pitchers are called a “good trade” and a million Chinese protesters are called a “tiny minority.” We do know why Willard Scott called Starbucks Coffee “almost as good as Maxwell House” on a recent location shoot. He’s got an ad contract with that product of General Foods (founded by Seventh-Day Adventist C.W. Post to sell health foods, now owned by a cigarette firm).

Three Men and a Pillow: A Seattle firm has invented the Empathy Belly, a 35-pound prosthetic tummy with Velcro outside and lead weights inside. It’s to help expectant fathers empathize with their wives, by sharing some of pregnancy’s discomforts. I wonder if its makers saw the Bewitched where Endora made Darren kinder to pregnant Samantha by making him crave rich foods and feel queasy in the mornings.

Prosaic Paroxysm: We’ve been amused over the years at the creation, practically from scratch, of a mythical “Northwest Lifestyle.” Less amused have been residents of hick towns rechristened as “romantic getaways.” Some of these oldtimers have formed Citizens for Lesser LaConner. Their ads in Seattle papers warn of traffic jams and inadequate facilities for the tourist hordes. It’s so rare to see an ad pleading you not to buy. Businesses there, of course, would remake the place to meet the tourist demand. It’d destroy thetown’s “rustic charm,” but that might not matter to those visitors who came here five years ago for the “lifestyle” invented by people who came here 10 years ago.

Cathode Corner: Joe Guppy, the Mark Langston of local TV, helped make Almost Live into a contender, then jumped to HBO. Another ex-Off-the-Wall Player, Dale Goodson, is now at MTV, writing comedy material for fellow Seattlite Kevin Seal. Then there’s Ross Shaffer’s ABC show, Day’s End. He mostly narrates clips from other shows, telling the late-night audience how much they’re missing by not watching more prime-time TV. As the TV nation keeps diffusing, expect desperate self-promotions like movies used against TV in the ’50s. Already, NBC’s “Come Home” slogan both plugs its living-room comedies and extols prodigal viewers to return from cable and VCRs.

Body Politics: The Christian Science Monitor’s become the nouvelle cuisine of newspapers (exquisite but too small to satisfy), but still has a good item now and then. It recently noted that teen beauty pageants are returning to Nicaragua (first prize: a trip to Melledin, Colombia). Some of the all-male leadership of the Sandinista Youth League grumbled that there should be intelligence pageants instead. A typical “male feminist” attitude, to slag feminine behavior as an irrelevant frill. A generation that’s faced so much work and self-denial (due largely to our hypocritical ideology) deserves a taste of healthy individual pride…. On a similar note, Poland’s first Bennetton store was announced. Maybe Walesa will start wearing nicer sweaters.

Junk Foods of the Month: The Nintendo Cereal System gives you the sugar rush to keep playing; the clever packaging lets you munch it from the box while keeping your joystick hand free…. Champs de Brionne in George, WA would rather be known for outdoor concerts than for Scarlet, a blend of reisling and cherry wine. It’s the same shade of pink as the dress on the label mascot (who looks more like a Barbara Cartland heroine than Scarlett O’Hara). She asks us to “look for my message on the back of the label”; I couldn’t find any…. The trade mag Restaurant Business sez the next eatery fad will be Mom Food — meatloaf, creamed corn, mashed potatoes. “Paying money for something you probably didn’t even like that much as a kid will lose its appeal, but we are reassured that it’s OK to enjoy comfortable food.”

Grinding Down: Many of Seattle’s 10 burlesque joints are feeling financial goose pimples. They’re cutting hours, raising prices, and even bringing mud wrestlers. The problem: overexpansion. Too many entrepreneurs want to make big bucks by keeping all cover and drink charges, making the performers live off tips. You often see the same scam in music and comedy clubs (though comedy clubs don’t offer “table jokes”).

That Last Hurrah Thang: In 1980, I was a student reporter on Sen. Warren Magnuson’s last campaign tour. He chartered an Amtrak train (a symbol of Magnuson’s belief in the benefits of federal spending) to the Tri-Cities (ditto). In stops at Seattle, Tacoma and Wenatchee, he spoke about the influence and privilege our state had achieved with Henry Jackson and himself (they’d been our senators since before I was born). But nationally, the Demos were too busy fighting each other to stop the Reagan stampede. That fall, Demo control of the Senate would be interrupted for six years and Maggie’s career, built on getting people to work together, would end.

Positive Steps: Until further notice, Seattle’s best window displays are at Church’s Shoes on Pike. Some of the displays have less to do with product than with cultural causes (saving the Admiral Theater in W. Seattle and the Spafford murals in Oly).

Local Publication of the Month: Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far On Foot. John Callahan, everyone’s favorite paraplegic, recovering-alcoholic cartoonist, expands his Clinton St. Quarterly essays (“The Lighter Side of Being Paralyzed for Life”) into a fascinating memoir. With the CSQ on apparent hiatus (editor Jim Blashfield is now a videomaker for Michael Jackson and others), it’s good to keep seeing one of its stars.

How Randy Is It?: The Rep’s mounting a revue of Randy Newman’s songs. I’d prefer a tribute to his Hollywood-composer uncles Alfred and Lionel, but there is some potential in dramatizing his better songs like “Cleveland.” I just hope they don’t re-create the “I Love LA” video (is any Seattle actor homely enough to impersonate Tommy Lasorda?).

‘Til July, visit the Karaoke Lounge at Tatsumi Express on the Ave, ask your bank for a memorial Salvador Dali MasterCard, and ponder these words of John Lydon: “Imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery. It’s damn annoying.”

5/89 ArtsFocus Misc.

PENTAGON BRASS PREDICT

GLASNOST WILL FAIL

(THEY CAN ONLY HOPE)

Here at Misc., where we’ve always brought disparate elements together, we don’t understand this “cold fusion” fuss. As a scientific discovery, it’s far less important than the new technique to remove old tattoos with lasers.

With this installment, Misc. has graced Seattle’s more open-minded restaurants, theatres and retailers for three years. That’s longer than the Ford Administration or the original run of Star Trek! Alice Savage, who ran what was then the PR paper for the Lincoln Arts Association, said I could write anything I wanted to. As ArtsFocus has grown under Cydney Gillis into this fiercely-independent sheet, that policy’s stayed. Another policy iterated in the first edition still holds: This column does not settle wagers (not that we’ve been asked to).

Eat Your Heart Out, Updike: The Brasil restaurant on 1st showed scenes from the latest Rio samba parades as part of its Sunday-night film series. Among the 18 “schools” (each with at least 3,000 amateur performers) were several save-the-rainforest parades and one in honor of Brazilian author Jorge Amado (Dona Flor and her Two Husbands, et al.). Can you imagine giant floats, musicians, singers, children, feather-headdressed men and topless women parading for a living American writer? Brazil has serious problems, but at least it has people who actively participate in their own culture.

This participation is largely what Abbie Hoffman fought for. During his heyday and on his death, the media’ve depicted him as an ego freak, no more sincerely subversive than John Belushi. (The radicals who really were ego freaks became Republicans.) Hoffman’s `68 Demo Convention protest and his square-people-bashing at the subsequent trial might have set back support of the anti-war movement, letting Nixon and Reagan vow to protect “real Americans” from “those kooks.” Still, especially in his books, he had much to say on real democracy vs. money-power whoring and how folks must stop being easily led.

Dead Air: KJR’s resident reactionary Gary Lockwood became Millstone Billboard Man #2, standing in a giant “coffee cup” downtown for an airshift (if I only had some tomatos to throw, some ripe, young tomatos). Lockwood’s “those kids today” commercials, denouncing anything recorded since 1970 and anybody born since 1950, are just like the Mitch Miller/Lawrence Welk defenders during the so-called “classic rock” era. To think KJR was once co-owned by Danny Kaye, who worked to bring attention and respect to youth. Also on the retro beat, the speculating Floridians who bought into Seattle radio promptly sold KZOK (to KOMO) and KQUL, née KJET (to Viacom’s KBSG). I’m heartened, though, by the formation of an anti-nostalgia lobby, the National Association for the Advancement of Time. Corporate America’s obsession with 1956-69 resembles the religious “Age of Miracles” doctrine, in which great things are said to have really happened but cannot happen anymore. The only way to really preserve the spirit of the ’60s is to stay fresh, to live in what Flip Wilson called “what’s happenin’ NOW.”

Update: New Cannon Film owner Giancarlo Parretti’s bids for the New World and DeLaurentiis studios collapsed. Maybe he should’ve sent Chuck Norris to see some dissident shareholders.

Local Publications of the Month: Twistor is a “hard science fiction” book by UW prof John Cramer, in which a machine in the UW Physics Bldg. becomes the portal to a parallel universe…. Lawrence Paros’s The Erotic Tongue is back in print. The area’s foremost expert on word origins (and briefly the best columnist in the P-I) gives fascinating histories on our terms for sex and/or love.

Cathode Corner: Rude Dog, the T-shirt mascot owned by Frederick & Nelson’s David Sabey, will have his own Sat. morn cartoon on CBS this fall (produced by Marvel)…. Bombshelter Videos resurfaced on KTZZ, where even Soundgarden’s an improvement over get-rich-quick and save-your-hair “shows.”

Ad of the Month (on a 76 banner): “Our three unleaded gasolines: Cleans fuel injectors best.” Runner-up (in the N. Seattle Press): “Since 1984, Gibraltar Savings: Serving families for over 100 years.” Then there was the Ross Dress for Less clearance ad with the “Men’s” listings printed between the jumping female model’s legs.

News Item of the Month (Times, 4/22): “A letter writer suggests that car-pool lanes should be open to cars with two drivers.” Let’s hope they’re driving in the same direction.

Politix: Veteran ad man David Stern, whose mom’s on the county council, is running for mayor. His best qualification is having invented the Happy Face, the quintessential politician’s stance. (It’s also become a symbol of neo-psychedelia, ironically since he made it to give Univ. Fed. Savings a wholesome family image in contrast to the image of the U-District in `69)…. Let’s try to get this straight: Our state’s Tom Foley’ll be House Speaker if Jim Wright has to quit over moneymaking schemes, including his wife’s unspecified work for our state’s Pacific Institute (the success-seminar outfit whose payroll also includes Emmett Watson and legend-in-his-own-mind DJ Bob Hardwick). It’s almost as juicy as the discovery of a real Texas oilman named J.R. Ewing, implicated in the Iran-Contra cash flow. After involving so many guys with cartoon names (Casper, Poindexter, Felix), it’s fitting the scandal include other parts of the American mythos.

Junk Food of the Month: White Castle Frozen Burgers. After following the elaborate heating instructions (involving foil and paper towels), you get something that looks and vaguely tastes like the food at an East Coast restaurant chain of undeserved reputation…. WSU’s launching a “distinguished professorship in fast food management,” underwritten by Taco Bell.

‘Til June, wear lotsa Parfum Bic, visit the Speakeasy café on Roosevelt (latter-day note: No relation to the later Speakeasy Cafe in Belltown), and try to be patient during the remaining 14 months ’til the Goodwill Games.

3/89 ArtsFocus Misc.

CAT STEVENS JOINS RUSHDIE MURDER CALL,

LEAVES EMPTY SEAT ON PEACE TRAIN

Welcome back to Misc., where we only wish Billy Tipton, the deceased Spokane jazz “man” who wasn’t, had recorded a duet with Wendy Carlos.

The Great ’89 Snow turned everything beautiful and made everyday life a temporary adventure. Monitoring the news coverage, KING gave hourly updates on wind-chill conditions, while KIRO interrupted the very interruptible CBS This Morning for the ritual reading of school closures. KOMO, whose news gets more Murdochian every year, ran promos saying they had the latest forecast but wouldn’t tell it until the regular news time.

Cathode Corner: MTV replaced its Closet Classics Capsule with Deja Video: clips from 1980-85. What a concept! ’80s Nostalgia!…David Lynch is shooting an ABC pilot in area logging towns. Lumberton on your TV every week! We can only hope…. The newGumby show is pleasant and surprisingly funny for a show for the primary-grade crowd. In one episode, Gumby’s “rock band” (more like a clunky jazz fusion) is chased manically by some grandma-age “wild girls.” In another, the jolly green one comes out of a box of fun costumes in an Eddie Murphy mask.

Hearts and Wallets: I saw the “Single’s Festival and Trade Fair.” The Trade Center’s labyrinth of booths was full of merchants. Some insisted that I’d find the love of my dreams if I’d spend hundreds on dating services “for quality, professional people.” I told them I was an amateur person but was trying to break into the pros. Others claimed that my life was really missing the satisfaction that’d come with their “mind control” seminars, or the security that’d come with their network marketing plans.

“It’s,” A Crime: The Times noted the poor grammar in the title “Single’s Festival;” the apostrophe indeed seems to be a lost art. There’s a big supermarket poster that reads, “Fresh Produce: Safeway Is Picky About It’s Quality.” I wish the company was pickier about its punctuation.

Local Publication of the Month: Seattle Reporter, a biweekly newsletter trying to cover the whole progressive community. In its inclusiveness, it may avoid the fate of the old Northwest Passage tabloid, which kept narrowing its definition of “politically correct” until almost nobody qualified.

(latter-day note: This remark was written at least two years before it became so damn fashionable to boast of being “politically incorrect.”)

Your Little Landmark: Local firm Archimedia makes a lovely Space Needle Paper Model Kit, available at Peter Miller Books. Unfortunately, it comes with the 100′-level restaurant; but at least with no interior, it can’t get a “new look” inside like the real Needle just got. Also, your 40′-tall Needle will never have a plastic crab on it unless you put it there.

Philm Phacts: The monthly Media Inc. (formerly Aperture Northwest ) sez Seattle cops are choosing film projects to cooperate with on the basis of script content. Stallone’s Cobra, which wound up shooting elsewhere, was one victim of this de facto censorship. (Stallone might have been trying to make it up to the Northwest, after filming First Blood in Hope, B.C. and calling it Washington). If the selective OK of police help (needed for most any major production) is true, the citymight be trying to avoid the fate of New York, where they worked to lure films only to get all those films about how awful New York is.

Big Storewide Sale: Mark Sabey’s become a major retail mogul by buying Frederick & Nelson and setting himself up as middleman in a proposed sale of Sears’ store and ex-warehouse (a beautiful building which should be saved) to the Sonics. One big thorn in F&N’s financial recovery has been its site at Aurora Village, the Mall that Time Forgot. Almost a third of the spaces there are boarded up, with few prospects for new tenants. The closest thing we have to that in town is Broadway, where landlords’ve become too greedy for even trendy restaurants to afford.

Bank Shots: Pacific First Federal is going to Toronto’s Royal Trust, as a gateway into the U.S. market. By some accounts, the Canadians don’t even care about doing business here, just as establishing a beachhead for a move into California. Expect home-loan funds to dry up as PFF becomes a cash cow.

Junk Food of the Month: Marilyn Merlot by Monticello Vineyards, with a cleavage portrait of Monroe on the label. It could be the first wine named after somebody who died from a drug addiction…. It’s bye-bye to Carnation Dairies, a locally-founded firm that got rich selling canned milk to the western frontier, expanded, moved its HQ to LA and got bought by Nestlé. To help finance the buyout, Nestlé sold the local dairy division, as announced in the papers by an appropriately-named spokesperson, Dick Curd.

A New Gear: Japanese cars are now on the cutting edge of creative design, but in models sold only at home. Nissan has a shockingly cute little delivery vehicle, the S-Cargo (almost as tall as it’s long). But it’s Mazda that’s taking a hesitant plunge in the US, with a British-inspired sports car that’ll fit two small people snugly. Also coming here, alas, is a Lamborghini 4 x 4: leather & mahogany inside, VW Thing-ish outside, $124G. Wake me if anybody ever drives it off-road.

It’s spring-training time, when Mariner fans briefly dream of glory. I’m just hoping the real M’s can be as entertaining as the fictional M’s game in The Naked Gun — or as dramatically tragic as the Vancouver mega-production of Aida coming to the Kingdome.

(latter-day note: Aida ran out of funds before it could get to Seattle.)

‘Til April, be sure to see Julie Cascioppo mid-week evenings at the Pink Door, watch or tape Sunday Night at midnite on KING, and heed the words of rapper KRS-One: “The new fad is intelligence.”

1/89 ArtsFocus Misc.

WHAT’S MORE PATHETIC:

JAMES BROWN IN JAIL

OR LITTLE RICHARD ON HOLLYWOOD SQUARES?

Welcome to the first `89 edition of Misc., the column that celebrates the end of the eight-year Age of Reagan and awaits the end of the 13-year Age of Cocaine. That’s about how long American attitudes and behavior have reflected those of coke users (aggressive euphoria, delusions of omnipotence, an insatiable need for more money). In what drug experts call “co-dependency,” these traits have spread to non-users, even to many who officially oppose the drug itself. It’s clearly shaped the power madness of much of the Reagan Administration. Reagan himself is a coke-addicted filmmaker’s stereotype of a statesman, a “high concept” hero. As violent as today’s coke gangs are, the big damage done by the drug is that done to our economy, culture and social fabric by business and government leaders who, often unknowingly, take the coke rush as their model for success.

This derangement is most visible in the obsessive speculation that’s captivated big business, exemplified by Kohlberg Kravis Roberts. Besides its recent gobbling of RJR Nabisco, KKR now controls Safeway and Fred Meyer (for a near-monopoly of the Oregon grocery biz), plus Dillingham-Foss Tug, Red Lion Inns, Motel 6, Playtex, and the onetime icon of corporate appetites, Beatrice.

International House Style: The next phase of drug-inspired behavior may be a return from effrontery to withdrawn introspection. Seattle’s Happy Face symbol and Seattle’s big sweatshirts are keystones of the Acid House style now popular in UK discos. The fad, which also involves Chicago-invented dance music and Swiss-invented LSD (or at least visuals inspired by it), should reach these shores in toned-down form this year. By then the Brits’ll be into something else.

Brought to You by the Letter “X”: Roscoe Orman, the kindly Gordon on Sesame Street, has celebrated the show’s 20th year by settling on child support for a viewer he helped create in Oregon in 1985. Some who grew up with the show may gasp at the thought of Orman and his therapist lover singing “Which of These Things Belong Together,” but I knew there was another side to him since the time he challenged the “exclusive” terms of his contract by moonlighting as a pimp on All My Children.

From Pawn to Queen: This was the first American Xmas for Elena Akhmilovskaya, now settled in Seattle after suddenly marrying US National Team captain John Donaldson. You’ll find our fair city far different from Moscow. Here, jeans are plentiful and chess players rare. And please go to more restaurants than just the Last Exit.

Cathode Corner: Filming PBS’ Ramona in Toronto destroys the thing I loved most as a kid about Beverly Cleary’s books: that unlike anything else in kid-lit, they took place in a land I’d actually been to (Oregon)…. The new baseball TV deal means more $$ to the owners, fewer games to the viewers (12 instead of 30). More games’ll be on cable, but at what price? At least we might have to see fewer racist Joe Piscopo commercials.

Stamp Act: The US Postal Service is retouching a stamp honoring the 200th anniversary of the French Revolution, removing a bare nipple from the goddess of Liberty. Maybe we could use a revolution of our own.

Local Publications of the Month: ‘Twas a big season for local nonfiction (Boz, Knox, Robert Fulgham). I was more impressed by a well-made if kitschy fantasy, Frederick & Nelson’s Freddy Bear’s Favorite Christmas, a combined book-music box with text by our ol’ buddy Gretchen Lauber… Portland’s Northwest Computer News has started a Washington edition to compete with Puget Sound Computer User. The first News is full of cracks at User for reprinting a lot of material from its Minnesota parent paper…. The Real Comet Press plans to start a quarterly anthology of local comix, to be sold nationally.

Update: Last Jan., I told of changes in my hometown of Marysville. Now it’s a whole different place. Half the downtown’s been razed for a mall. The north side of town has two huge discount stores and a full compliment of middlebrow chain stores. Running between the two retail areas is a bus made up to look like a trolley (talk about a Neighborhood of Make-Believe). The countryside’s almost all gone from farming to tract houses. There’s even an indoor movie house (all we had was the Thunderbird Drive-In, still there). Still, some aspects of the old mill-town lifestyle remain: the video stores have such titles as Cut Your Own Deer At Home.

`Til our fab Feb. edition, visit the CT&T Gift Shop in Wallingford, admire the McDonald’s-sponsored hologram cover on National Geographic’s centennial edition (an issue all about our threatened Earth, not discussing the danger from foam boxes or razing forests for beef grazing), and ponder whether Shelley was predicting oldies radio when he wrote, “The world is weary of the past/Oh, might it die or rest at last.”

INS & OUTS FOR ’89

As always, this list might not reflect what’s hot now, but what will become hot in the year. This is not a substitute for professional tarot reading.

12/88 ArtsFocus Misc.

WE’LL SUPPORT UNITED KEEPING THE TOKYO ROUTEONLY IF THEY’LL CUT THE “DISCO GERSHWIN” ADS

Look: I’m not “just kidding folks.” When I say something here in Misc., I MEAN IT. (OK, the call for a crackdown on violent opera music was a bluff, but nothing else.) The louder I state that these are my sincere opinions, the more some people brush me off with a smug wink. If I were the uncaring, insincere cynic I’ve been cracked up to be, I’d be a Republican, or at least the Good Company producer who put a Gamblers Anonymous show on election day.

Anyhow, this month’s column is dedicated to Seattle’s newest grocery chain, Shop-Rite. Shopping, of course, IS a rite, especially in December. Hot Xmas gifts this year include the new plastic teen makeup kit (for plastic teens?) that looks just like a fishing-tackle box (“date bait” indeed). Those going east can get that special gift at NYC’s new Soap Opera Furniture Store, selling surplus room settings from daytime dramas. Sign up now for a bar stool from Ryan’s Hope. The 13-year-old show, which launched the career of sometime Seattle actress Kate Mulgrew, is being axed to give more time to local legend Sandy Hill’s Home show.

Unlisted: Washington mag’s list of “100 Washingtonians Who’ve Changed the World” left out Ray Charles, Judy Collins, David Lynch, Mary Livingstone, Dyan Cannon, Carol Channing, Lynda Barry, Martha Graham, John Cage, Quincy Jones, Steve Miller, Willie Nelson (once a Vancouver, Wash. DJ), the Sonics rock group, Robert Culp, Dawn Wells, Patrick Duffy, Mark Tobey, Mark Morris, Larry Coryell, Robert Cray, Chet Huntley, John Saul, etc. My biggest beef is leaving out Spokane-born Chuck Jones, perhaps the greatest maker of animated films ever. Any list to leave him out must have been edited by Elmer Fudd.

Towering Achievement?: In a rare show of minor courage, the City Council voted a temporary, slight restriction on new highrises (with exceptions for some well-connected projects). In all other recent cases save one, the city’s succumbed like a lapdog to the developers. Will it really serve the public interest at last? (Personally, I like the Wash. Mutual Tower and some of the others, and realize that office-building is inevitable in an economy gone from making stuff to pushing paper. But that’s no excuse to do it as poorly and inconsiderately as it’s too often been.)

Space Exploration: You may know that the name of the new AFLN gallery-cafe on E. Madison stands for “A Frilly Lace Nightie.” You may not know that the bldg. was the shrink’s office in House of Games (one of the few sites in the film still standing, just two years later). The nearby Bagel Deli on 15th now has keen art shows of its own.

Faulty Femmes: I submit that Robin Givens IS NOT the “most hated woman in America,” as charged by some paper. But who is? Imelda Marcos, the likeliest prospect, is just a resident alien here. Others frequently disliked, often undeservedly, include Phyllis George, Tammy Bakker, Tipper Gore, Yoko Ono, Linda Ronstadt, Phyllis Schlafley, Andrea Dworkin, Anne Burford, and Springsteen’s new girlfriend. Pretty slim pickings, but once more women achieve positions of real power, more will emerge who truly deserve our loathing.

Music Notes: Sir Mix-A-Lot’s Posse on Broadway, with great shots of Dick’s and Taco Bell, made the MTV rap show, but became “Stir Mix-A-Lot” in the credit…. Yuban Coffee is sponsoring this year’s performances of The Nutcracker. If the girl had had the coffee, she wouldn’t have slept and there’d be no show.

Local Publication of the Month: Cambodia: A Book for People Who Find Television Too Slow. To Vancouver, B.C.’s Brian Fawcett, Pol Pot’s crimes are just an extreme form of what the media/corporate culture’s doing to us: fostering passive obedience by destroying history, memory, community and individuality. I don’t buy all of it, but admire his passion and technique, cross-referencing St. Paul, Marshall McLuhan, Joseph Conrad, Malcom Lowry, Homer, satellite dishes, Expo 86 and Reggie Jackson…. On the Bus,Metro’s newest newsletter, gives driving but not bus directions to a bus-base open house.

Graphic Details: Fantagraphics Books, America’s premier publisher of alternative comics (including Seattleite Peter Bagge’s Neat Stuff ), is moving here from LA. It’s not a big boost to the local economy (its prestige title, Love and Rockets, sells under 20,000 copies), but is a clear sign of our emergence as a graphic-arts mecca. In another positive move, the UW’ll now require arts credits by incoming frosh. Maybe that’ll stop state school districts from killing arts classes.

Disappearing Ink: As you know, we believe in reading everything. Now, that “everything” may shrink. Two vital news sources, theChristian Science Monitor and Mother Jones magazine, are reportedly switching to yuppified formats with less political and foreign news, and in MJ even “upscale” lifestyle features. MJ, which prides itself as the biggest left-leaning rag since WWI, ought to know that the Yuppie media aesthetic, selecting a rich minority as the only people worthy of attention, is inherently reactionary.

The REAL Skinhead Story: After a tragic murder in Portland, the media have branded every kid with a shaved head a racist thug. Not true. The few who are thugs specifically follow 10-year-old UK grooming fads and the “ethnic-purity” policies of the British and French “National Front” movements (and the most virulently pro-apartheid groups in South Africa). Purity, of course, is for geeks. Anybody who goes killing or bashing people to prove how superior he is obviously isn’t.

Until we next meet in the new year, with our annual In/Out list (your suggestions still solicited), help fight to save the Music Hall and the Hat n’ Boots gas station, and heed the words of VH-1 VJ Ben Sidran: “War is never as much fun as a good piece of music.”

10/88 ArtsFocus Misc.

SOON YOU CAN SEE JAPAN

(LAND OF COMPANY-RUN UNIONS)

VIA CONTINENTAL

(AIRLINE OF NO UNIONS)

Here at Misc., we must apologize for the lateness of the last issue, stuck in a Belltown computer during the blackout. I can assure you I had the gag comparing Quayle to Pat Sajak days before Johnny Carson did.

The blackout is the top Seattle news story so far this year. The daily papers did an awful job of covering it, giving relatively scant coverage and not really discussing the havoc it played on people’s lives until Day 3. It was over a week before they mentioned the construction crew that started it, though the crew had been visible days before the outage. In the tales of survival dept., the Virginia Inn stayed open with beer served from picnic coolers, constantly re-iced (signs pleaded with customers to be nice to the staff). KJET played four hours of blackout-related songs on Day 2: “Electricity,” “Power to the People,” “The Power and the Passion,” and tunes by the Power Station and the Power Mowers (but not the Blackouts). On the night the juice came back, the Ralph’s Grocery readerboard was ready with “I SAID BUD LIGHT.”

Junk Food of the Month: Langendorf Creme-Filled Carrot Cakes. Now you can enjoy the guilt trip of junk food and the martyrdom trip of health food in the same bite.

Local Publication of the Month: Lifeline America!, a slick national mag from local ad legend Jerauld Douglas Miller. Its tabloidesque graphics and stories cover survival with & life without painful addictions (booze, drugs, food binges, boyfriends). Best part: the cover photo of Liz Taylor’s unretouched face, showing just how much she’s gone through. Worst part: endorsing Ed Meese’s Gestapo tactics against small-time drug users, fueling their own victim self-images while diverting funds away from treatment….The Daily Journal of Commerce now has its own “A&E” section, only with them it’s not Arts & Entertainment but Architecture & Engineering (natch).

Invisible Red Ink: The Soviet Union’s admitted it falsified maps for decades. Military installations were whited out, Moscow streets rearranged, and entire towns moved or obliterated. Our own govt. threatened for years to blow the Russkies off the map, only to find they’ve been doing it themselves.

Tourist Trappings: At Seattle Center, Westlake and the waterfront (no, Mr. Royer, I won’t call it “Harborfront,” a euphemism newly deployed to gussie up its image as everything BUT a real harbor), the future of the city is being debated: Will residents’ taxes be used to make Seattle more liveable or more visitable? In each case, City Hall has chosen to subsidize tourism while vital local needs are put aside (or held hostage). Gore Vidal once wrote a story about Disney buying all of England as a huge theme park, with residents expected to live in costume as milkmaids and other “colorful characters.” It could essentially happen here, as it essentially has to parts of California and New Mexico. Let’s build a better town, but a better real town.

Everything Old Is Neo Again: The next big early-’70s comeback, besides solar energy, could be conceptual art. Our sources count three new Manhattan galleries devoted to various hybrids of visuals, video, performance, and such. Interest in early conceptual, performance, and especially video art is rising. It’d be a great time to screen the early video-art tapes donated to the Seattle Public Library a decade ago, except nobody seems to know where they are now.

The Secret Word Is Love: We normally don’t print sex gossip, but couldn’t resist the rumor that ex-Rocket art director Helene Silverman is to wed cartoonist/Pee-Wee’s Playhouse designer Gary Panter. Silverman’s now at NY’s architecture-design magMetropolis; we can only hope she’ll spread the Panter influence to real-life buildings.

Phast Phashion: Fashion magazines are getting thicker than the models pictured within them. Re-use your copies of Vogue and Elle as inexpensive workout weights…. The “Reeboks Let U.B.U.” campaign could pleasantly remind one of Pere Ubu (the play and/or the band)…. Urban “street” imagery is all over this fall’s ads for suburban-only clothing chains, from J.C. Penney to Lamont’s. If they think inner cities are so cool, why won’t they have stores in ’em?

Loco Biz: Fred Meyer may be a little late in its “We Support Northwest Firms” promotion. There are fewer and fewer of them to support, now with the Seahawks and Seven Gables Theaters going to Calif. clutches (as noted by John Marshall in the San Simeon, Calif.-owned P-I).

Philm Phacts: Home-video bucks for new independent films are drying up. Reason: the big studios are pressuring video stores to stock more and more copies of fewer and fewer films…. Will the UK firm that bought Technicolor stick a “u” into its name?

Headlines of the Month: “Japan’s big boost for state” (P-I, 9/10); “Little yen for NW: Japanese investments going elsewhere in U.S.” (Times, 9/11).

Music Notes: Billboard now has a Modern Rock chart every week. The first #1 is Siouxsie and the Banshees, the last original UK punk band in operation to this day…. The NY Daily News’ recent worst-songs-of-all-time poll is much like the one I did in ’81 (latter day note: that was done for the UW Daily), down to the #1 entry: “You’re Having My Baby.”

Bods vs. Beers: The grand old Rainbow Tavern is now a no-booze “showgirls” establishment. It’s nice that some guys are finding drug-free entertainment, but from a hetero-male standpoint it’s disadvantageous that we’re getting more places to look at women, but fewer places to meet them. (Most of the picketers outside it, claiming it demeans women, were men, mainly regulars from the nearby Blue Moon. Imagine Blue Moon people calling someplace else sleazy!)

To close, be sure to see the 911 Homes for Art and the two non-911 Jardin des Refusées homes, hear the new locally-backed remake of Orson Welles’ radio War of the Worlds, read Pete Hamill’s piece in the Sept. Cosmo on the “Awful ’80s,” and fight for all the park space at Westlake we can still get.

9/88 ArtsFocus Misc.

ANOTHER CALIF. LAND DEVELOPER

BUYS A SEATTLE TEAM!

FANS PLAN TO SPEND

SUN. AFTERNOONS KNITTING!

Welcome to the September Back-to-Cool edition of Misc., the column that still wonders why they called it the Elliot Bay Jazz Festival when it was held on the shores of Lake Washington. We could also wonder why that group of mostly easy-listening acts was called a “jazz festival,” but we’ve too many new wonders to deal with this month.

Philm Phun: MTV’s been showing a two-minute, censored and colorized version of the Surrealist classic short Un Chien Andalou at unannounced times lately. Yes, what was once shocking is now just another part of the Cash-from-Chaos culture. Meanwhile, our buddy Jean-Luc Godard has recommended that French TV colorize his original Breathless — and show it with commercials, something they’re only starting to do over there, over the dead bodies of the French cultural priesthood…. A National Medal of Arts was just awarded to Gordon Parks, presumably for his photography, not for directing Shaft.

Junk Food of the Month: Oscar Meyer Lunchables, boxed snacks containing eight little slices of luncheon meat, eight little slices of bread, eight crackers, and one napkin, for $1.39 — about the price of a regular-size package of each non-napkin ingredient. Tastes OK, too.

Cathode Corner: KING, publicly disappointed by such syndicated offerings as The New Queen for a Day, will add another hour of local talk in the afternoon. That’ll give the station some 34 local hours a week, to my knowledge a Seattle record (aside from public-access cable)…. KIRO called its telecast of the last hydro race Super Boat Sunday instead of the Budweiser Cup. Bud had paid to sponsor the race itself, but not the telecast. ‘Tho, as about the only racing camp with enough bucks and spare parts to run a complete race, the Miss Budweiser boat kept the beer’s name on Wayne Cody’s lips all day…. Troubled? Can’t relax? Try one of two newly announced videocassettes. One shows a parade of sheep for you to count (with a soothing Brahms soundtrack); the other has a Video Psychiatrist who “listens” to your situation, occasionally nodding his head and asking you to elaborate a little further.

Local Publication of the Month: Sophie Callie’s Suite Venitienne, from Seattle’s Bay Press. The Parisian-based author/photographer trails a near-stranger named Henri B. to and around the streets of Venice, secretly taking pictures of his movements and writing a running essay justifying her actions. Not only is that cool enough, but at no extra charge you also get Jean Baudrillard’s thinkpiece on surveillance in modern life, “Please Follow Me.”

Repo Men: First and foremost, Dan Quayle does not look like Robert Redford. He looks like Pat Sajak (who did serve in Vietnam, tho’ in a noncombat role with Armed Forces Radio). In contrast, Bush looks like all the small-town lawyers on Scooby-Doo after their ghost masks were removed. The difference is that those villains were businessmen disguised as monsters; the reverse is true of George.

Slipped Discs: The compact-disc reign of terror has claimed its first victim. Jem Records, America’s pioneer distributor of import and independent music, filed for bankruptcy protection after a planned merger with Enigma fell through. Without major-label promo bucks, Jem couldn’t keep its roster of cult favorites (Brian Eno, the early X albums) from getting pushed out of stores eager to make way for more oldies CD’s. (The totally unrelated Jem rock-fashion dolls are also doing poorly, and may be discontinued.) Locally, the owners of Standard Records and Hi-Fi on NE 65th have chosen to close Seattle’s greatest non-rock record store. It was the best place to get any classical, jazz or swing record, and the last in town with ’30s-style listening booths…. The record division of Toshiba, a worldwide military-tech supplier, has refused to release a Japanese cover of “Love Me Tender” with new anti-nuke lyrics from distribution. The singer is suing. Now thank your stars GE sold RCA’s record unit.

Star Trysts: Hugh Hefner’s bride had to sign extensive anti-alimony waivers giving her no opportunity to inherit the Playboy empire (still oozing money, mainly from the last non-publishing units). Ol’ Hef wants daughter Christine (12 years older than her new stepmom) to get it all, or whatever’s still there.

Center of Dispute: A recent evening found Patti Smith’s song “The People Have the Power” on the P.A. at the Fun Forest, which the Disney consultants want to replace with an upscale (read: “Tourist”) amusement complex across 5th Ave. N. Other parts of their Seattle Center plan have been modified to have less L.A. kitsch than originally envisioned, but it’s still a potential WPPSS of parks in its scale and boondoggle potential, when all the Center really needs is some structural fix-up and a visual-arts space to replace the SAM Pavillion. Other expenditures can wait while more Seattle-appropriate ideas are developed, preferably by citizens. Or as Smith sez, “The people have the power/To redeem the work of fools.”

‘Til Next Time, avoid 7-Up Gold (the first cinnamon-flavored soda), read the new autobio of Portland’s own Mel Blanc, vote in the primary, don’t get snared into the Olympic medal-counting game, and keep those recycling cartons full.

THE OFFICIAL MISC. READING LIST

Folks often ask, “Where d’ya get all that stuff you write about?”

It’s simple: Everywhere.

Here are some of the sources I try to get around to

at least every now and then.

Read the widest possible range for a healthy intellectual diet.

• Variety
• USA Today
• Wall St. Journal
• Post-Intelligencer
• Seattle Times
• In These Times
• The Nation
• Harper’s
• Reflex
• Journal-American
• News-Tribune
• Herald
• Weekly
• UW Daily
• Pacific Northwest
• Macworld
• Vogue
• Taxi
• Mademoiselle
• Films in Review
• Private Eye
• Spy
• Punch
• Newsweek
• Filmfax
• Time
• The Rocket
• Atlantic Monthly
• Puget Sound Biz Journal
• Christian Science Monitor
• Playboy
• Vancouver Province
• TV Guide
• Esquire
• Four-Five-One
• Utne Reader
• Whole Earth Review
• Village Voice
• Byte
• Seatle Star
• Love and Rockets
• Raw
• Comics Journal
• The New Yorker
• The Oregonian
• Writer’s Digest
• Neat Stuff
• Weirdo

8/88 ArtsFocus Misc.

‘ANY CITY THAT CARES MORE FOR

ITS ART MUSEUMS THAN ITS BALLPARK

CAN’T BE ALL BAD’ – JIM BOUTON

Welcome back to Misc., the column that always knew that column writing is a fine art, long before a Seattle actor proved it by forging a one-man show out of old Mike Royko columns. What’s next, you ask? A performance-art piece of collected personal ads? A choral chant based on TV listings?

News Item of the Month (NY Times “Correction,” 7/21): “Because of a mechanical error, an article on the Business Technology page yesterday about quality control appeared in some editions with a paragraph misplaced.” In a similar event, many copies of the 6/28 Time magazine bound the same eight pages twice — including a feature story on poor industrial design.

Junk Food of the Month: Health Valley Blue Corn Flakes. Proof that not all health-food-store junk foods are heavy exercises in carob masochism, they make the dinner-spoiling afternoon cereal a more colorful tradition. No word on whether they’re the breakfast of George Carlin, who once claimed there were no blue foods.

The B.A.T. Channel: BATUS, the UK-based tobacco company that formerly owned (and nearly killed) Frederick & Nelson, is placing newspaper ads to support its hostile takeover attempt against Farmers Insurance. They don’t mention BATUS’ plan to destroy explicit anti-smoking brochures made by Farmers’ Mercer Island office, firing anyone up to the board of directors who refuses.

Yes, But Is It Crime?: By now you’ve heard the legend of Lawrence McCormick, the commercially unsuccessful artist who entered the Linda Farris Gallery on 7/7 and poured red paint on four large glass works. You may not have seen his written statement, posted at Broadway’s Espresso Roma: “I enacted my Art Action: Iranian Blood Deposited on American Art Commodities because of the cold abstract middle-class elitist art establishment mentality of American commercial art galleries and the Linda Farris Gallery as the Seattle `avant garde’ example of degenerative decoration.” Farris, by the way, did not see the act, being in Moscow at the time. I was there, and will remember the large, stern visage of McCormick, waiting outside to be arrested, while the petite gallery ladies stood in near-shellshock.

(Latter-day note: McCormick committed suicide after this column was written but before it hit the streets.)

Demo Tapes: The Democratic Convention was a fascinating attempt to “clean up” the ritual aspect of American politics. It was like a funky old store or building trying for a trendier image. The good news is that much of the old spirit survived, between the major speeches and conductor John Williams’ heavy use of Sousa (including the “Liberty Bell March,” known to younger viewers as theMonty Python theme). The United Auto Workers ran ads with Y-word dads talking trade policy while playing with their sons (and with Danish Lego toys). The GOP responded to the whole tasteful love-in by launching a campaign of attack against Jackson, Carter, Mondale, Ted Kennedy and just about every other Democrat who isn’t actually running. At the same time, the Vancouver Sun sent a reporter out for a week to cover an event as important to Canada as the convention was to us: Wayne Gretzky’s wedding.

Local Publications of the Month: Aperture Northwest is the bible of regional film, TV and stage production. Like its national counterpart, Variety (America’s greatest newspaper), it goes beyond the raw data to be as lively as the business it covers….The same cannot, sadly, be said for Exposé, which purports to cover local fashion and style but whose only apparent idea of editorial content is to plug its advertisers.

Star Trysts: Bruce Springsteen hires a young woman for his band, gives her a prominent spot, then is rumored to be leaving his wife for her. Is he trying to live out Willie Nelson’s movie Honeysuckle Rose or what?…When Lionel Richie’s girlfriend was confronted by his wife, did she just quietly ask, “Hello? Is it me you’re looking for?”

Le Nyuk, Le Nyuk: The Frisco Chronicle claims the following is from a respected French journal, Cinema et Mort: “The lack of respect in America for the high art of The Three Stooges, and the unfortunate consignment of their masterworks to the vulgar medium of television, is perplexing to the French critical community. The impressive body of film work left by Les Trois Imbeciles resounds with the Jungian notion of the male’s painful struggle to come to grips with his own unconscious, specifically with the deeply repressed feminine side of his nature…. In short, Moe must become Curly, by way of Larry, to achieve his full human potentiality.”

Cathode Corner: Residential areas are being innundated by extra-large junk mail in the form of independent Yellow Pages. The latest twist is “The Yellow Pages That Talk.” It just means that the front cover plugs a phone number where you can get KING’s program highlights. Now you don’t have to buy a paper to learn that next Saturday’s ball game will be yet another Dodgers snooze…. The same station had our ol’ pal John Keister promoting caution with home fireworks this past July 4. Back in ’79, Keister wrote aUW Daily editorial condemning “Safe and Sane” fireworks as wimpy, proclaiming, “I regret that I have only ten fingers to give for my country.”

Update: The Beef Marketing Board, already beleaguered with poor publicity by spokesperson James Garner’s health troubles, learned that its poster of a beef-eating yuppie looked like an old Hitler Youth banner. Given the ad business’s recent obsession with young, white, blond, cheekboned visages in smug, aggressive poses, it’s a wonder such a mix-up didn’t happen sooner.

Let Us Make a Pledge to meet in September, and ’til then contemplate the aluminum roof on the Son of Heaven exhibit, beat the heat, and recall the words of playwright George C. Wolfe at the Group Theatre: “America is a continent composed completely of mongrels, and the only way someone can prove that they are pure is by pointing out someone else who’s a mongrel.”