3/88 ArtsFocus Misc.

Back to Our Pre-Taped Profiles

After This Pause for a Sports Event

At Misc., we’re glad Metro’s finally getting those tired Earth Shoe colors off their buses (as part of their continuing belief that promotion is more important to a bus line than reliable service). Let’s paint ’em in the colors that Seattle has sold to the world: screeching primary and secondary colors, in goofily overstated patterns with odd typography along the sides. The first Generra designer bus! I can hardly wait.

JUNK FOODS OF THE MONTH: A while since we had this section, but so much to report now. First, there’s Simplesse, the genetically engineered “fake fat” from the makers of NutraSweet. Then there was that great Nova show on how food technologists take consumer demands for natural foods and end up making cylindrical wafers with imitation cheese-flavored fillings, chemically bonded to maintain a “creamy” texture and all “co-extruded” from a machine in long rolls. But perhaps the biggest news in the field is that Dannon yogurt, one of the last “pure” snacks left, now comes in plastic cups instead of waxed cardboard. You can’t even go natural anymore without buying non-biodegradable petrochemicals.

CATHODE CORNER: Previews of The Wonder Years, the first show to treat people my age as the target of nostalgia, aren’t encouraging: Horribly cute little boys and the same ’60s soul classics you hear today in bad commercials. The 12-year-old kids I knew at the time thought those songs were OK but preferred the Monkees and the 1910 Fruitgum Co. — music for kids left behind by progressive rock. Just as we were becoming teens, suddenly it wasn’t cool to be a teen anymore. We learned the media only cared about people 10 years older than us and always would…. At least until MTV. In that channel’s most amazing promo yet, five young actors stand on a stage and chant, “How do you do, Mr. Ginsberg. I would like you to know that the best minds of my generation are rich and famous.” Not quite true, of course; the best minds of my generation are really bankrupting themselves in self-publishing, paying off video camcorders, and fighting to get airplay.

NEWS ITEM OF THE MONTH (Shelby Gilje, Times, 2/12): “Playskool has Dolly Surprise, whose hair grows when you raise her right arm.” I knew the Sisterhood-Is-Powerful look would come back.

MUSICAL MENACE: At a performance of Seattle Opera’s Orpheus and Eurydice, a man stood up from his seat, yelled “This is dogshit,” and left. They’re trying to identify him from his seat position, in hopes of revoking his season ticket. Earlier, a guy jumped to his death from the balcony at NY’s Metropolitan Opera. I tell you, this Satanic opera music is causing demented behavior. Why aren’t officials demanding warning labels on opera records? Why are opera companies allowed to serve wine at intermissions? Why aren’t opera audiences strip-searched? You don’t know what they could be hiding in those long gowns!

CALGARY REPORT (via Dave Bushnell): “Everybody’s very friendly. When a guy I met tried to climb over a fence to get into an event, the cops asked him to come down, checked his ID, and found out he was going to have a birthday in a couple of days. They sent him a birthday card at his hotel. With all the offices built in the last oil boom, the whole city looks like it just sprang into being in the last few years. You can see multi-million-dollar developments right next to these small suburban houses. One man refused to let the Olympics tear down his little house next to the ski jump; he finally agreed to let them use it as a press office. A strip joint was told it couldn’t use the Olympics name, so it instead ran a “Miss O-Word Contest.” I was with Seattle TheaterSports in the Olympic Arts Festival. We competed against teams from the US, Canada, England and Australia, and came this close to the bronze. Really.”

LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE MONTH: Ex-UW prof Molly (only spiritually related to Shere) Hite’s Class Porn suffers from the most overused plot for first novels (English teacher tries to write her first novel), but it does have one nice twist. After the heroine struggles to create a positive erotic fantasy for women, the result reads just like the plot of a Russ Meyer movie. The heroine doesn’t even realize this; Hite might not either…. Memo to Feminist Baseball: Thanx for your last ‘zine, but I really think deliberate amateurism is passé (as is Michael Jackson bashing).

CAUCUS QUIPS: As our state prepares to be ignored by the candidates and press on Sooper Toosday, let’s glimpse the political realm. Like an awakened sleepwalker saying “Did I really do that?”, more citizens are incredulously realizing they’ve let a gang of grafters, demagogues and confidence artists use our government and economy as their playthings. Others, terrified by the risks associated with reality, are frenetically trying to keep the Reagan illusion alive. But as The Nation (2/6) sez, the leading Democrats (and, to a lesser extent, Dole) are selling progressive populism to a degree beyond anything McGovern did (and often beyond their own voting records). When it’s become hard to even imagine a presidency based on real decency, it’s a miracle that so many voters are insisting that there must and can be a better way.

CLOSE: ‘Til the April Showers come our way (presuming we ever have them), be sure to watch the BBC soap EastEnders on KTPS, vote for Ray Charles and Stan Boreson in The Rocket’s Northwest Music Hall of Fame poll, go to the caucuses, and join us next time.

10/87 ArtsFocus Misc.

Here’s Misc., the column that’s more fun than a Shaw Island heretic nun. Opinions here aren’t necessarily those of ArtsFocus Associates or its advertisers. In fact, offer me a Supreme Court post and I’ll retract or explain away any position I’ve ever taken.

The Summer of ’67 commemorations turned out to be largely duds. That’s OK, really; it’s good to see folks being respectfully apathetic towards the hippie dregs’ shrieks about their own importance. I mean, everybody back in the late ’60s can’t have been as hip ‘n’ progressive as the ex-rads now claim everyone was – somebody voted for Nixon.

But all summers must make way for autumn. Each year at this time, Seattle’s five-month ennui generated by the Mariners vanishes with the first frenzied football crowds. But this year, there’s only half the madness, with the NFL players away. One issue: owners’ demands that players take mandatory drug tests for the privilege of entertaining 60,000 drunks.

The NY Times reports an unnamed Seattle air express firm sent a rare Picasso to a Texas Air Force base instead of the eastern museum expecting it. The story didn’t say if the museum got the aircraft parts the Air Force was expecting, but they would’ve made a great found-sculpture installation (they probably cost more than the Picasso, too).

Junk food of the month: Souix City Sarsaparilla (made in New York), with a taste that blows root beer clean away and two stunning cowboy relief images on each exquisite bottle. Available at the Sunnyside Deli in Wallingford.

Local publication of the month: No one selection this time. Invisible Seattle: The Novel of Seattle by Seattle is finally out, four years after it was made, and indeed worth the wait (it’s even turned out to be prophetic in its theme of an entire city disappearing before your eyes). Semiotext(e) USA, a compilation of underground-press materials co-assembled by ex-local Sue Ann Harkey, is out six months late with the best material being supplied by SubGenius Foundation cartoonist Paul Malvrides. Four-Five-One is back seven months after its fundraiser with a beautiful poster-mag featuring Marsh Gooch on Hank Williams, Angela Sorby on practical nihlism, and Kenneth M. Crawford on a toy-factory worker replaced by a machine, until “the machine eventually goes Union and puts the company back to square one.”

We’re not the only town to lose its semblence of economic power to outside speculation. A Philadelphia paper sez that town, the country’s 4th biggest, is also now bereft of any big local banks and of many locally-based industries. The city celebrating the 200th birthday of the Constitution has lost the last of its economic independence.

Ann Wilson Update: The Heart singer is now seeking a husband with “streetwiseness.” Object: to sire 3 kids. . . . In other celeb gossip, one of the less harrowing parts of Patty Duke‘s memoir Call Me Anna is how she left hubby John Astin when he fell in with the fundamentalist-Buddhists and pressured her and the kids to do the same. Somehow, the vision of Gomez Addams sitting in the lotus position chanting “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” through his cigar all day has an eerie sort of appeal to it.

The Hollywood idiots are at it again: Responding to the popularity of sexual themes in films like Betty Blue and She’s Gotta Have It, the studios have done their usual misinterpretation of the market and come up with a cycle of virulently anti-sex films. Don’t see Fatal Attraction (jilted mistress on a rampage), Tough Guys Don’t Dance (N. Mailer writes AND directs, ’nuff said), Lady Beware (creator of erotic window displays stalked by a sicko), Kandyland (exotic dancer stalked by pimps & pushers), or Blood on the Moon (feminists slaughtered by serial killer).

Among the fall TV season‘s only promising shows is Trying Times, a comedy anthology coming to PBS later this month. It was filmed in that familiar Vancouver-pretending-to-be-America, and was shown on the CBC as part of its series Lies from Lotus Land. It’s the perfect treat for your friends visiting Seattle, trying desperately to find the locations they saw in Stakeout….The Garbage Pail Kidscartoon show was unceremoniously yanked by CBS days before its debut, but don’t fret: a feature-film version is in the works.

Looks like a great theatre season in town with hot offerings coming from Performa ’87, the Group and Seattle Children’s Theatre among others. The best stage value of all has got to be New City‘s Late Night shows with music, dance and a serialized staged reading, “The Life and Times of Baby M,” every Saturday night for 99 cents.

One of Seattle’s best dinner-floor show combos is at the Broadway Jack-in-the-Box. Every Friday night, patrons are treated to the entertainment of watching an endless stream of teens barging in, walking right past the counter to the restroom doors, discovering that the restrooms are now locked to non-customers, and barging right out again without buying anything or speaking to anyone.

While you spend the next month figuring out what the Australians will buy next (after Rainier Beer and Ms. magazine; it was also an Aussie who sold the Beatles’ songs to Michael Jackson), we close with some of Team Chalk‘s work at Bumbershoot: “Outwit the great theif despair — an exercise in radical trust…It’s always tornado season in someone’s heart.”

9/87 ArtsFocus Misc.

ArtsFocus is back and so’s Misc., Seattle’s only whole-grain rumor mill. Opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of ArtsFocus Associates, its advertisers, or Brian Bosworth.

Welcome to the summer of our discontent. Some complained this summer about the traffic, the leaky roof at the Bagley Wright, about paying $8 to see the hydros without being able to get drunk n’ crude, about paying $16.50 for Dana “Church Lady” Carvey in the rain at the Mural Amphitheater, about paying $2 more for Madonna than for the Dylan/Dead show in Eugene, about celeb sellouts like Lou Reed for American Express. Me: I’m not complaining that much, though I did wish we could have had a combined Contra hearing/Isuzu ad, so you could always know when they were lying.

FOR THE RECORD, it’s also been the summer when Seattle got its own overpaid sports legend-in-his-own mind, its own MTV VJ, its own near Presidential hit-and-run, and the start of its own Underground.

Hope y’all had an enlightening time during the Harmonic Convergence. Remember: Author Jose Arguelles sez 144,000 of you had to be meditating at local sunrise 8/16. If the world ends 25 years from now, I don’t want to hear you moaning, “Darn it, I knew I should’ve set my alarm early.”

Already some hopeful news has emerged from the heart of New Age country, on people finding the personal energy to influence the world around them. Port Townsend’s local teens are battling one of the most backward, reactionary social forces known to humanity, the Northwest Nature Poets, over the right to eat Big Macs without having to drive to Port Angeles. More karma to them.

Patrick McDonald has endorsed the Young Fresh Fellows as a local band bound to make it big. As McDonald’s pick-to-click has traditionally meant the Kiss of Death (anyone remember the Heats?), the Fellows should immediately renounce it, declaring that they have absolutely no intention of ever getting a national hit record.

JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Flavored fortune cookies, as introduced at the Bite of Seattle. Seattle’s Rose Brand will soon market the treats in vanilla, mocha, strawberry, mint, raspberry, banana and bubblegum flavors. Every fortune has two happy-face symbols on it (you can also special-order cookies with custom fortunes).

Procter & Gamble’s announced multi-million losses from its Duncan Hines Soft Cookies. P&G expected a big hit due to a chemical emulsifier that made them soft, figuring it wouldn’t matter how poorly they tasted. They’re not giving up, though: Their next product will be diet cookies, made with a new “sucrose polyester” to be called Olestra.

PHILM PHUN: Japan’s Tampopo, easily the best comedy of the year, is also one of the few films anywhere to deal entirely with the preparation and consumption of food. The most that US films have come to discussing with this most pervasive of all human activities are Fatso, a few cannibalism pictures and some good Woody Woodpecker cartoons.

LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE MONTH: The Seattle Design Association Newsletter. Issue 18 has die-cut finger holes in all 12 pages; 11 of those pages have extremely clever illustrations by Carl Smool, Linda Owens, Michael Dougan and other famed local artists, all supervised by (who else?) Art Chantry. A measly $1.50 at Peter Miller Books on 1st Ave.

CATHODE CORNER: The use of retro rock in TV ads gets ridiculous when Time magazine uses the Byrds’ “Turn, Turn, Turn,” a song originally made in part to protest the Vietnam War — a war that Time supported.

T. Boone Pickens, who tried to conquer Boeing, has made a fortune attacking companies; some of them have surrendered to other overtakers rather than face his wrath. Unocal, Phillips 66, Gulf and Citgo got no government help against his assaults, but state and federal pols rushed to the side of our beloved big employer/big defense contractor. One of the govt’s fave companies was threatened, starting the end of unregulated company-poaching, one of the hallmarks of ’80s commerce….

In other big news, the Easterners who bought Seattle Trust claimed at the time to be impressed by the bank’s reputation and good name — so why’d they demolish it all, as soon as the takeover deal was cleared, by slapping on those ugly Key Bank signs?….

Microsoft’s illustrious reputation has finally gained a little tarnish. A major software program was released full of bugs; then the Redmond firm received undeserved criticism when IBM released new computers designed for an operating system that MS won’t have ready for another year.

Get those “Save the Turf” badges back out. A Contemporary Theater has replaced Intiman as the cultural villain in a plot to destroy one of Downtown’s last truly human spaces for yet another totally unneeded office project. Expect no intervention from the city, which has become a wholly-owned subsidiary of the developers…. Give thanks that the Paramount Theater/KKFX empire was rescued from possible bankruptcy. With its prime Convention Center location, the grand ol’ Paramount just might have been bought and razed.

As the moths swarm around the Frederick Cadillac floodlights this hot August night, a final reminder to avoid the $.25 foil-pouch wine at the Liquor Stores, take the 911 Homes for Art tour, read the new bio of cartoonist Winsor McCay, watch Cruzin’ Northwest Sat. morns on KSTW, and come back here next month. ‘Til then, peace and flowers for all.

6/87 ArtsFocus Misc

(one-year anniversary)

Welcome to the first issue of the new Arts Focus and the first anniversary of Misc., the at-large column that tries to keep ahead of a world where Hüsker Du goes on the Today show, the Central Area’s Liberty Bank becomes the largest Seattle-owned commercial bank by default, the M’s briefly take first place, and the Pope tries to stop people from doing all they can to have babies.

Top story of the month: Procter & Gamble, Kellogg’s and other top national advertisers are refusing to place any ads in Florida, after that state passed a tax on advertising and other professional services. If Booth had gotten his original tax plan past our myopic Legislature, we too would be sharing in this rare and wonderful blessing.

At that same time, Contragate and Hartbreak battled for the public viscera, with many Americans somehow finding lying, cheating, and killing in the name of democracy to be less immoral than sleeping around.

Local junk food of the month: Midnight Sun Dark Chocolate, made in south King Co. by an Alaska firm, with such a bold flavor that it’s the Everclear of candy bars. No relation to the “Midnite Sun Chocolate” in Eskimo Pies.

Local publication of the month: Moviemakers at Work. Despite what the Times says, this is Microsoft Press’ first non-computer book, and its choice of interviewees reflects the real star system in late-industrial Hollywood. Not a single actor, writer or composer is in the book; the only subjects with director credits are two animators. Instead, we get audio technicians, photographers, editors, and most especially special-effects artisans. The newfound prominence of these people indicates how the big-money boys now in charge at the movies have dropped all notions of story, dialogue and character in a relentless rush toward old Darryl Zanuck’s dream: to find a movie formula wherein investing in a certain level of pure spectacle will bring a guaranteed return. It didn’t work for Zanuck (Cleopatra, Dr. Doolittle); it’s not working today.

Time Travelers, one of this column’s favorite record and comic stores, hopes to move away from 2nd near Pine this summer. The folk there say it’s ‘cuz the neighborhood has become too scuzzy, and I agree. That Nordstrom Rack has attracted totally the wrong element. In other comic news, Marvel is now owned by New World Pictures, presumably meaning we’ll get more great comic-based films in the grand tradition of Howard the Duck. Gary Larson, meanwhile, has sold rights for a live-action Far Side movie to Alan Rudolph (Trouble in Mind, Welcome to L.A.) would fit in perfectly, as long as he doesn’t sing.

Sports spurts: Have the Sonics’ recent playoff successes led me to reconsider my stance against letting more than half of any league’s league’s teams into its playoffs? No. This does not mean I don’t love the Supes or will approve of any move to Bellevue (what would they be called then? The Evergreen State Warriors?)…

Most of the potential new local owners for the Mariners are stingy bean counters just like George Arduous. They might meet the requirements of Commissioner Peter Uberalles, but could keep the team strictly a stop for players on their way up or down. The M’s may be contenders now, but the question is whether this year’s stars’ll get paid what they deserve here next year or go to someone who will.

Cathode Corner: Joan Rivers has finally been fired by Murdochvision. Why didn’t it happen sooner? ‘Cuz Rivers & Rupert shared the same worldview, one based on gross-out aesthetics and Righteous Right politics. With any luck Murdoch’s Fox Network will fold this year, leaving KCPQ to running its great movies (with the usual breaks from greatness for the monthly Gratuitous Violence Week). I’d hate to see the Ding-Ding Channel’s uniqueness become lost to more of those fashionable-but-dumb Fox shows, shows which prove that it’s square to be hip.

4/87 ArtsFocus Misc.

Greetings, pop-culture followers, to the 10th edition of Misc., the column that knows how to solve two of the city’s architectural dilemmas in one bold stroke: Simply move the twisted remains of the Husky Stadium project to Westlake Mall. Instead of yet another unfillable office/retail complex, we’ll have the world’s largest piece of found art at our core. It’ll be a beautiful, shimmering amalgam of bent steel, creating a fascinating pattern of lights and shadows throughout the day. With the proper supports, it can become a popular spot for climbing, eating lunch, watching musicians and performance artists, and (in the more obscure alcoves) developing new romances. Alternatively, the wreckage could go atop the Convention Center, in place of the planned rose garden dropped several budget cuts ago.

JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Sourdough Chips. Each tiny piece contains a powerful dose of flavors and seasonings, nearly enough to produce a profound centering experience. Habit forming; not for the wheat-sensitive.

LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE MONTH: Reflex, from the 911 Contemporary Arts Center (now desperately needing a new space). At last: A paper that treats the Seattle visual-art scene as worthy of serious criticism. By resoundingly eschewing the “It’s Not New York So Who Cares” attitude toward Seattle artists, it challenges artists and the art bureaucracy, leaving no excuse for mediocrity. Issue 2 has a long, good piece on the new Seattle Art Museum (the dawn of a new artistic consciousness or the same old snuff bottles in tourist trappings?) and a pack-page collage by one of this column’s favorite illustrators, who signs her work only with a logo of a triangle with a line through it. (She’s not related to the local band whose printed name was two diamonds with wings and whose spoken name was a growling scream.)

You already know I usually hate pro wrestling, but Britain’s The Face has a great section on Japan this month, highlighted by pix of top female wrestlers Dump Matsumoto and Bull Nakano, in punk kneepads and punk/samurai/KISS makeup, engaged in a typical real bodyslam, having finished their pre-match set of pop songs. The audience is mainly teenage girls; this is the refreshing overdue reaction of a generation raised on Hello Kitty kitsch. (In the same issue: an account of the Sankai Juku tragedy in Seattle.)

In other violent mythological spectacles, the end of the annual Ring Cycle could be a great blessing for local performing arts. Now we can put some of that money and effort into something fresher, something with more contemporary relevance than an interminable succession of tired ol’ proto-Fascist imageries. (The Ring was begun here as the centerpiece of a scheme to move the Seattle Opera out to Federal Way, something we can all be glad didn’t happen.)

Anyhow, there’s a second Richard Wagner leaving Seattle. This Wagner, he of the Anglicized pronunciation, opened the CBS NewsSeattle bureau less than two years ago. Now the network’s closing the bureau, as part of massive cutbacks orchestrated as an excuse for union busting, and Wagner has been reassigned overseas. Ex-KING anchor Bob Faw, meanwhile, is more prominent than ever at CBS as a national affairs reporter.

CATHODE CORNER: Could anyone have imagined the Beach Boys special with Brian Wilson, everybody’s favorite obese burnout case, resurfacing as slim, energetic and even cheekboned? It’s as if he totally regenerated, a la Doctor Who….

The “news” segments on the UHF Fundamentalist channel are really just more evangelism, with Reagan portrayed as God and the “liberal media” (even the aforementioned CBS) as Satan. The political agenda of Fundamentalism, to foster fear and mindless loyalty, is nowhere else as nakedly shown.

The local Sanctuary movement might be helped by a Supreme Court ruling making it far easier for candidates for asylum to prove they can’t safely return to their homelands. Ironically, it was a Nicaraguan’s case which may help the refugees of “friendly” genocidal governments.

Five members of the Jazz Section, a Czech underground music society, have been convicted of cultural treason for performing unauthorized types of music. It can’t happen here, though perhaps the politicians fighting Michael Spafford’s state Capitol mural and trying to keep all under-21 Seattlelites with no live entertainment would like it to happen here.

Merger mania, totally manufactured by Federal “regulators,” marches on. Now we must say goodbye to American Motors, the last little guys in the car biz and the inspiration to people in many other fields struggling to stay independent. Maybe if they’d brought back the Nash Metropolitan….

Kudos from here to KCMU, the volunteer-run new music station, on its powerful new 90.3 signal. Now people from Duvall to Bainbridge Island can get Ground Zero Radio — or at least hear it….

Further congrats to the Center on Contemporary Arts. Just as its ’87 season was starting (with the California Natural Foods gazebo on First Ave.), it found a new office space in the building where Trouble in Mind was filmed. May COCA keep troubling area minds for many years to come.

One side effect of the film Platoon’s success is in sportswear. Last year, area designers tooled up for the War-Is-Fun Look, inspired by the success of Rambo and Top Gun. Now that the candy-colored camouflage has arrived from the Asian factories, the attitudes that were supposed to have made it a hit have changed. Look for it all at your local close-out store real soon.

‘Til next month, remember this quote from A.M. Maslow: “A first-rate soup is more creative than a second-rate painting.” Ta ta.

11/86 ArtsFocus Misc.

Welcome again to Misc., the regional pop-culture column with the same non-aspirin pain reliever as the prescription brand Motrin.

The astounding playoff and World Series performances by ex-Mariners Dave Henderson and Spike Owen, now in Boston, prove there really has been some Big League Stuff in the Kingdome, if not in the team owner’s box.

Twenty-four percent of the Forbes 400 richest Americans got their fortunes in entertainment or publishing. You’ll notice the name printed at the top of this column was not on that list.

The long nightmare is over: Expo 86 closed. Even with almost as many visitors as there are Canadians, the thing still lost hundreds of millions of dollars (Canadian dollars, but it’s still a lot). The deficit will be paid from BC lottery revenues which normally support charities.

Speaking of what BC politicians call “megaprojects,” seen (or better yet driven under) the Convention Center yet? That thing’s a monster! It’s already totally out of scale with the surrounding First Hill neighborhood, just a few months into its four-year construction cycle. It’s fun looking now as a Paul Bunyan-sized Erector set, but once it gets walls it’ll be a horrible monolith — at least until the graffiti artists get to it, we can only hope.

HUGE STOREWIDE SALE DEPT.: Frederick & Nelson is now under local management and I’m sure they’ll do well, particularly if they follow these few suggestions: bring back the fabric and pet departments, the lending library, the Men’s Grill, and especially the Paul Bunyan Room. The big Paul & Babe mural and the serpentine counter may need to be rebuilt from scratch, but it’ll be worth it….

The Bon may be bought by a Canadian company. If it happens, don’t expect the name to ever revert to The Bon Marche. The original name, borrowed from a Paris store, originally means “good buy,” but in colloquial French has come to mean “cheap” in the demeaning sense — not the best image to promote to the French-literate Canadians who drive to Seattle to shop….

The Heart of Pay n’ Save, that great section with discount imported trinkets of all sizes, colors and uses, has been dropped by that chain’s new out-of-state owners. They concluded shoppers here aren’t as bargain-driven as elsewhere. Much of the “Heart” merchandise will remain in the stores — but at higher prices….

Three of the U District’s best stores and one of Broadway’s have been replaced this year by candy-colored sweatshirt stands. Can the horror be stopped before it devours us all?

LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE MONTH: Market Tab. This photocopied sheet contains gossip, items of interest around town and pithy comments, much like another writing product I know of.

LOCAL JUNK FOOD OF THE MONTH: Cheese sticks at the Gourmet Thrift Shop. Each fresh batch is made with a food processor full of real cheeses. Like everything at the quaint little shop in the old Rubato Record space on Broadway, it’s amazingly good and amazingly cheap. Now if they’d only stop playing that same Steely Dan tape over and over….

In other junk food news, the Dr Pepper Co. just bought the 7 Up Co. Upon hearing the news, I used a can of each product and one drinking glass to determine just how well the companies will merge. Results: a definite clash of corporate cultures.

FILM CLIPS: Jumpin’ Jack Flash isn’t a big hit; audiences are comparing Penny Marshall unfavorably to the three other directors in her immediate family. I still may see it, ‘cuz Whoopi Goldberg’s bank-telecommunications job in it is the same job I used to have. Never got involved w/any spies or killers like she does, ‘tho….

Children of a Lesser God raises some interesting questions. Will Hollywood ever find another starring role for hearing-impaired star Marlee Matlin? And the special subtitled screenings for the hearing impaired are nice, but why don’t studios make similar prints for other domestic films? Deaf people are interested in other things than just deafness, ya know.

Foreign films come with subtitles, of course, like the ones shown by The Cinematheque, which I associate-direct, at the University Cinemas on 55th and U Way. This month a new Cinematheque series begins weekends at noon, with (non-subtitled) horror, cult, comedy and other specialty films. Like the foreign films, these are for the viewer who wants an active, adventuresome film experience.

EARLY WARNING: A local theater company is planning a musical based on a certain very popular cartoon property. High-level rights negotiations are underway between the theater’s fearless leaders and a Mr. Big in LA.

Industrial art takes on a new meaning as construction begins on 6th Ave. S. for a new office-warehouse for the Frye Art Museum. How the Industrial District’s loft photographers, painters and video artists will react to the pastoral oils and watercolors moving in is anyone’s guess.

We all know the local literary scene generally won’t accept anything too far removed from free-verse nature poetry, the written equivalent of a Frye painting. Other writers give me flack for not hating technology (writing this on Lincoln Arts’ word processor instead of in longhand, watching TV). Our local Luddite authors, however, have a ways to catch up to the reactionary behavior of a Chicago group, Writers Without Phones.

There’s one piece of electronics I do despise: The compact disc. They don’t give you big cover art or colorful labels. You can’t make a scratch mix with them. They sound sterile, flat, too clean for any of the music that made this country great: Hot jazz, swing, bebop, bluegrass, gospel, folk, blues, R&B, country, and their mongrel child rock n’ roll. What’s worse is that the record biz is realigning itself to favor the high-priced spread. Already Motown has dropped 82 oldies albums, which henceforth will be sold only on CD. Those records, like most good non-classical music made since 1950, owe their original existence to the low cost and mass market created by cheap vinyl discs. If CDs take over, all you’ll get is slick, bland product (like the current Motown roster). CDs suck real big.

CATHODE CORNER: Pee-wee’s Playhouse, the undisputed Best Show on TV this year, is now on at 9 a.m. Saturdays, despite what the papers say. Don’t miss it, or the rest of the day people will scream when you inadvertently say the Secret Word and you won’t know why.

Maybe I’ll see you at the next Ballard Market Singles Night. If not, keep stroking your miniature replicas of Waiting for the Interurban until next month. We’re in touch, so you keep in touch.