The 'Roid Not Taken

Do you remember Derrick May? I absolutely do not, which actually supports the point I am trying to make, but also dictates that my referencing him here be taken simply as allegory.

The statistics I will cite are factual, taken from www.Baseball-Reference.com, but I have no recollection of his ability, potential, circumstances, anything he did or didn’t do, let alone the choices he may have made nor the reasons behind them. So yes, this is journalistically quite suspect. But again, I’m trying to make a point.

Derrick May is the son of Dave May, a major league ballplayer of minor note in the 1970s. Derrick was the 9th pick of the first round of the 1986 amateur draft, a draft in which Gary Sheffield, Matt Williams and Kevin Brown were also Top 10 picks.

Derrick May played briefly with the Cubs in 1990 and 1991, as a September call-up, but 1992 was his first full year in Chicago. He played left field, started 85 games and had 96 hits in 351 at-bats for a .274 batting average. He had 8 home runs, 45 RBI, 40 strikeouts and a .373 slugging percentage. He was 23 years old.

In 1992, the 78-84 4th place Cubs had another 23-year-old outfielder, a guy who started 67 games in center field, batted 262 times and had a .260 average, 25 RBI, 63 strikeouts and a .393 slugging percentage. Just like Derrick May, he hit 8 home runs in 1992.

Now here’s where I start making things up to make my point. Let’s say May, a former high draft pick who saw his draft-mate Sheffield hit 33 home runs in ’92 and who was trying to solidify his future with the Cubs, had the opportunity to increase his strength and stamina through steroids, HGH, creatine or whatever was available at the time. Again, I have no idea what really may have happened, but let’s just say that while May was tempted, he decided that “cheating” was wrong, no matter if the MLB had a steroid policy or not.

“Admirable choice,” we might say, “he did the right thing; so what?” And upon learning that the following season, 1993, Derrick May hit 10 home runs in 465 at bats—both career highs—and wound up having a mediocre 10-year major league career, we might say, “Well, not everyone can be Mickey Mantle.”

And upon hearing that Derrick May earned between $2-3 million for his entire major league career, not counting any signing bonuses or his 3 subsequent years in Japan, we might think it a shame that he didn’t live up to his potential, but then neither do a lot of guys. And heck, we’d all take $2 million.

But what about the other 23-year-old Cubs outfielder in 1992, a guy who batted leadoff or second most of the games he started, unlike May, who hit 5th or 6th, more conducive to an expected power hitter. What if he met the proverbial Faust at the crossroads of Addison & Clark, and as has been proven the case with Sheffield (who has gone on to hit 499 home runs and earn $154 million), decided that with obscurity staring him down like a pitcher 60 feet away, chemical enhancements weren’t a bad option. Whether steroids or HGH, something was needed to make himself bigger and stronger.

Something that might explain how he could go from 8 home runs in 1992 to 33 in 1993. Something that could enable him to play 18 major leagues seasons, and hit 609 home runs, including an unmatched 292 in a 5-season span from 1998 to 2002. Something that could bring career earnings of $124 million, and plenty of endorsement deals at the height of his popularity. Not to mention a Presidential State-of-the-Union salute.

And while longtime suspicions of steroid abuse—including a government investigation— along with a corked bat incident and premature evacuation from the Cubs clubhouse in 2004 may have eventually tarnished his public image and perhaps cost him eventual enshrinement in Cooperstown, nobody has asked him to return any of the $124 million in career earnings or evacuate his massive mansion in the Dominican.

So, as we stand in February 2009 with Alex Rodriguez the latest of the shamed gazillionaires, if you were to go back to the winter of 1992, might you make the choice Derrick May—now the hitting coach of the Double-A Springfield Cardinals—possibly made.

Or would you still rather be Sammy Sosa?

Worth Wading For?

I still consider myself a major U2 fan, and they've remained a great live act, but the only album they've made of truly lasting impact since 1991's Achtung Baby has been 2001's All That You Can't Leave Behind, and even that isn't quite on par with The Joshua Tree, War or Achtung. I found 2005's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb extrememly disappointing, and quite frankly, never listen to it. While the song City of Blinding Lights is thrilling for its connection to the Obama campaign, it isn't a great song in its own right. So perhaps without reason, I've been looking forward to their next album with hopes for their artistic redemption. Titled No Line on the Horizon, it is slated for release on March 3. I'll withhold full judgment until I hear it all, and often, but the first single has just been released. Titled Get On Your Boots, it can be heard through YouTube (though no video is out yet). I've listened to it about 5 times now, and perhaps it will grow on me, but forget Pride (In the Name of Love), Sunday Bloody Sunday, Where the Streets Have No Name or even One, it doesn't even seem as good as Vertigo.



(If you're a Springsteen fan like me, you can check out his new album Workin' on a Dream on a pre-release stream on NPR.com )

The Best of 2008: Movies

Having averaged one movie per day for the past 3 weeks, in theaters and on DVD, I have now seen most of the films that have been found on other people’s Best of 2008 lists. Hence, my own list won’t exactly be revelatory, but I now feel somewhat qualified to make one. Certainly, there are still many movies I haven’t seen, some of which might belong here. Also, except in some cases where the movie is already on DVD and I’ve watched it a second time, my opinions—especially in terms of ranking the movies against each other—are based on a one-time viewing. It’s entirely possible I didn’t entirely “get” a certain movie or saw it in a less than idyllic atmosphere, etc. Speaking of which, between old people talking obliviously and young people texting and otherwise using their cell phones, I think I’ll gladly revert to watching at home or going only to movies when the theater is mostly empty.

That said, in order, here are my picks for The 10 Best Movies of 2008:

1. Frost/Nixon
2. Milk
3. Slumdog Millionaire
4. Doubt
5. The Dark Knight
6. The Wrestler
7. Gran Torino
8. Changeling
9. Rachel Getting Married
10. Wall-E

Honorable Mentions

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Snow Angels
Iron Man

Others liked these more than me

Revolutionary Road
The Reader

Ones I didn’t see that might belong

Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Wendy & Lucy
Happy-Go-Lucky
Nothing But the Truth

Best Performances

Frank Langella – Frost/Nixon
Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight
Sean Penn – Milk
Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler
Philip Seymour Hoffman – Doubt

Angelina Jolie – Changeling
Anne Hathaway – Rachel Getting Married
Meryl Streep – Doubt
Kate Winslet – The Reader
Kate Beckinsale – Snow Angels

The Best of 2008: Live Performances

In 2008, I attended approximately 150 live events, including concerts in small clubs and football stadiums and theatrical performances that ran the gamut from Chicago storefronts to summer stock in Sullivan, IL to the stages of Broadway & London. Beyond rock & roll, musicals and drama, my in-person experiences included jazz, country, blues, Irish folk, opera, classical, ballet, tap dance, modern dance, stand-up comedy, improv and other art forms. I also went to a smattering of athletic events, including games involving all of Chicago's major professional teams (Cubs, Sox, Bears, Bulls, Blackhawks, Fire).

Here is a rundown of the best of what I saw:

Rock Concerts:

- Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band - I saw the Boss four times, and all 4 were excellent, with his 3-1/2 hour performance at Harley Fest in Milwaukee being the most memorable.
- AC/DC
- David Byrne
- R.E.M.
- Steely Dan
- Bob Mould
- Ray Davies
- The Cure
- Radiohead - They were great at Lollapalooza, but I think I enjoyed their Indy show more, at least from a comfort standpoint.
- Van Halen
- Stereophonics
- Eddie Vedder
- Stevie Wonder
- Brian Wilson
- Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

I was also glad to have seen:
Tony Bennett
BB King
Willie Nelson

Theatre:
Though I saw a number of plays as well, my highlights are predominantly musicals:

- Billy Elliot - London
- The Visit - Signature Theatre, Arlington, VA
- Dangerous Beauty - American Music Theatre Project, Northwestern University
- In the Heights - Broadway
- Fiorello - Timeline Theatre, Chicago
- Les Miserables - Marriott Theatre, Lincolnshire, IL
- West Side Story - Little Theatre on the Square, Sullivan, IL
- Legally Blonde - Broadway
- Avenue Q - Broadway in Chicago
- Million Dollar Quartet - Goodman Theatre, Chicago

Honorable Mention (Musicals)

- Gypsy - Broadway
- Sunday in the Park with George - Broadway
- Goodbye Girl
- Rent – Broadway
- Caroline, Or Change - Court Theatre, Chicago
- Gigi - Light Opera Works, Evanston, IL

Best Plays
Columbinus - Chicago, a small theater I can't recall
Amadeus - Chicago Shakespeare Theatre

Other amazing performances:

Ballet: Giselle - Auditorium Theatre, Chicago
Tap Dance: Savion Glover and Bare Soundz
Comedian: Chris Rock
Jazz: Joshua Redman w/ Branford Marsalis at CSO
Opera: Manon and La Traviata - Lyric Opera Chicago
Classical: Yefim Bronfman – Rachmaninov Piano Concerto 3 at CSO
Athletic Performance: Lebron James vs. Bulls 11/8/08
Other: Barack Obama acceptance speech, Grant Park, Chicago

A Sad Coincidence, or Something Worse?

When people speak of Cubs' Curses, they're typically referring to the team's penchant for perennial failure, even in the few years when they've made the playoffs or been in contention. But with today's news of the death of Dave Smith, a pitcher who was pretty good with the Houston Astros in the 1980s and rotten in 2 Cubs seasons in 1991-1992, I couldn't help but remark on the fact that 4 Cubs Pitchers of the 1990s have passed away prematurely within the past 2 years. In addition to Smith, who was 53 and supposedly succumbed to a heart attack, Kevin Foster, Geremi Gonzales and Rod Beck have all died either this year or last. And with Foster dying of cancer, Gonzales in a car accident and Beck having been known as a heavy-set, heavy drinker, it's hard to imagine any of these deaths had anything to due with the steroid era.

I don't really believe in curses, whether to blame of the Cubs' on-the-field woes or these more grim coincidences, but I'm officially rescinding my bid to buy the team. Even if it was destined to fall about a billion dollars short.

'Tis the Season for Good Movies

I am a big movie fan, with my tastes covering many genres and running from low-brow to high-brow. Although I have a vast DVD collection, plus HBO and other cable choices, and via a home projector can watch movies on my wall about 12 feet across, at least from a technical standpoint I prefer to watch movies in theaters. I don’t particularly like waiting in long lines for popular first-run movies, nor sitting in packed theaters, and am often annoyed by other patrons talking, texting and doing whatever else. And while a pittance compared to what I often spend for live music or theater, $10 for a movie seems like a lot. So I tend to go to relatively few movies each year, though I realize that “relatively” is relative (I used to go to more when I lived near a second run, $3 per movie, cinema, but there are none of those near me now.)

I tend to average about one movie per month, but go to none in many months and tend to go in bunches during in the summer, when the blockbusters are released, and toward year-end, when many higher quality movies are released in hopes of earning Oscar nominations.

Although a couple of the summer blockbusters I saw this year—The Dark Knight and Iron Man—were actually very good movies and are making several year-end Best Of lists that I’ve seen, a couple weeks ago I saw a fabulous movie—Slumdog Millionaire (see my review in a post below) and this past weekend saw an even better one: Milk.

Milk, which I’d give @@@@@, is a bio-pic about Harvey Milk, who in 1977 became the first openly gay elected official in America as a San Francisco City Supervisor, only to be killed the following year. Directed by Gus Van Sant and starring Sean Penn, who gives a remarkable performance, Milk is the best movie I’ve seen this year.

But I’m hoping it’s given a run for its money by several of other highly acclaimed new or upcoming releases I hope to see by year-end or shortly thereafter, including Doubt, Frost/Nixon, The Wrestler, Gran Torino, Revolutionary Road and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. And that’s just what I’ve already heard praise about. I’m especially looking forward to The Wrestler, starring Mickey Roarke as the down-and-out title character in what’s said to be a phenomenal performance in a role roughly paralleling his own story. The movie is directed by Darren Aronofsky, who did Pi and Requiem for a Dream, and features a great, newly written title song by Bruce Springsteen.

A State of Embarrassment

With the caveat that people, even politicians, are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, if, as seems to be the case, recordings exist of Nimrod Blagojevich conspiring to auction Obama’s Senate Seat and perform various other egregious acts that make Alaska’s governor vastly preferable, well, he’s royally (expletive). And while I’m not entirely convinced that he’ll get quite what he deserves, for delusional megalomaniacs, the fall from grace is often ample punishment in itself.

I certainly don’t feel bad for him, and I think his profanely stated disdain for Obama’s unwillingness to “play ball” pretty much exonerates the President-elect from wrongdoing—not that it will stop Republicans from drawing a connection. Though no one seems to be clarifying the one question I have regarding Obama: Let’s say he, or his people, said to the Guv, “I really think Valerie Jarrett would be the best choice for my Senate replacement,” is there anything problematic in that in and of itself? If Obama isn’t offering or asking for special favors, just sharing his preference, is that legal and/or ethical? Or is Blagojevich’s decision-making process supposed to be devoid of any influence by anyone who can benefit in any way (and if Valerie Jarrett is a better Senate advocate than someone else would be, that is a benefit).

Anyway, though I typically don’t overindulge in civic pride, it pisses me off that Blagojevich has heaped worldwide humiliation on Illinois and Chicago at a time when we had been basking in the residual glory from Obama’s election. Around the U.S. and the world, Chicago has primarily been known as the home of gangsters (Al Capone style) and political corruption (vote early, vote often). Since the 1980s, Michael Jordan and Oprah Winfrey have become multi-national beacons for the city, and Obama is poised to outshine even them. And with his support, getting the 2016 Olympics certainly looked likely.

But with indiscretions that make Eliot Spitzer’s seem petty, and whatever shenanigans Mayor Daley may pull relatively run-of-the-mill and devoid of Rod’s brazen stupidity, Blagojevich has once again given Illinois and Chicago a black eye, which threatens to linger long into Obama’s administration.

Below are a few of today’s newspapers, beginning with the New York Daily News:

And You Thought This Was Scandalous

After taking this picture with the then-embattled, seemingly drunk but not yet completely disgraced Governor after a Cubs game back in July 2007, I had to insist that I wasn't giving him the "Loser" sign, but rather indicating that the Cubs were #1.

I guess I was just be prescient after all.

Here's to an Ace

Whatever led to Greg Maddux winning 355 games and being the best pitcher of my generation--both within a single season and over a career--it wasn't as obvious as Roger Clemens (even without the juice), Randy Johnson or even going back a bit further, Seaver, Ryan, Carlton or Palmer. Obviously, even if not overpowering, his talent had much to do with it, but more than with the others, his intelligence and preparation were fundamental to his great success.

Here are some numbers: 4 (straight) Cy Young Awards (+ 5 more times in the Top 5 in voting). 18 seasons with 15 or more wins, including 17 in a row. 9 seasons with 18+ wins. 10 seasons with an ERA of 3.00 or under, including 2 seasons under 2.00. 5008 innings pitched. And though he had many masterful seasons--including a few with the Cubs before they stupidly let him get away--I'll take his 1995 season, when he went 19-2 with a 1.56 ERA with only 23 walks and 38 earned runs allowed in 209 innings as perhaps the greatest of my lifetime (and he must have been hurt at some point that year, as he only started 28 games).

Anyway, I'm probably not saying anything others haven't said better, but most of all in an era where great athletes are quite often jerks or worse, Maddux always seemed like a good, classy guy.

Sorry Ron, but You Don't Belong

I feel bad for Ron Santo. He obviously feels he merits inclusion in Baseball’s Hall of Fame, and every couple years he becomes Charlie Brown trying to kick the football. Today, the latest voting of the Veterans’ Committee was announced, and though this was again heralded as Santo’s “best chance yet,” of 48 votes needed from 64 voters—living members of the Hall—he fell 9 votes short.
With due respect for the 39 Hall of Famers—including many Santo contemporaries—who believe that he belongs in their company, I tend to agree with the 25 who don’t. Now, I say this never—at least at a conscious level—having seen Ron Santo play. So while I know he won 5 Gold Gloves, I don’t know how close he came to Brooks Robinson in the fielding department. But in analyzing his offensive statistics, he just doesn’t warrant selection.

He was a great player for several years, whose total of 342 home runs—which rank him 80th all-time—came in a non-steroid era against the likes of Koufax, Drysdale, Gibson and Maracial. But with 3 members of the 1960s Cubs—who never won anything—already in the Hall, the best justification for his getting in is that others who may be even less worthy are enshrined.

But in 1980, his first year of eligibility, Santo earned just 15 votes of 385 ballots cast by baseball writers who surely were familiar with his career first-hand. The fact that over the years, he’s come closer to getting in (lately via the Veterans Committee) while simultaneously becoming the symbol of unwavering exuberance in his role as a (terrible) Cubs radio announcer, and also has suffered the loss of both legs after a life-long battle with Type 1 Diabetes, doesn’t change his deservedness.

In my opinion, Hall of Famers should be obvious; if it takes 30+ years and myriad voting panelists to determine if you are one of the very best professional baseball players who has ever lived, well, it’s time to stop trying to kick the football from Lucy’s hold (not that Santo nominates himself; he just sets himself up for emotional devastation).

A Tale of Twin Cities

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Actually, my Thanksgiving weekend solo road trip to the Twin Cities wasn't really all that dramatic, though I did have a very enjoyable time that was (not overly) marred by a poor Bears performance vs. the Vikings in the Sunday night game I attended, and a surprisingly disappointing visit to the Walker Art Center, which I had heard good things about for years, but had virtually no worthwhile art on display (I'll post more on the matter separately).

Though my acute enjoyment was limited, a visit to the Mall of America on Black Friday cured (hopefully) a strange obsession. The Mystic Lake Casino Hotel, where I stayed and played, was a good choice on both accounts. I enjoyed attending a play at the new Guthrie Theatre, Minneapolis acclaimed local theater, although I have mixed feelings about the play itself--Blackbird, by David Harrower.

Though it was a bit cold, I enjoyed seeing and photographing Peanuts sculptures in St. Paul (Charles Schulz was from the area) and while perhaps not world-class, the Minneapolis Institute of Arts was considerably better than the Walker and has one of the best Van Gogh's I've ever seen.

I even ate some good meals, including a $11.95 Prime Rib Dinner at Mystic Lake (the Prime Rib wasn't awesome, but was passable for the low price) and a solid Top Sirloin at Murray's, a Minneapolis staple since 1946.

The ride back home seemed a bit long, but traffic nor weather were ever an issue. All in all it was a good trip, the Bears notwithstanding.

A Sly Way of Giving Thanks

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone reading this blog, even if it's just one of you. I'm off tomorrow morning for a road trip to the Twin Cities, highlighted (let's hope) by Sunday night's game between the Bears and Vikings. Don't know if I'll have a chance to blog along the way or even quickly after my return, so I leave you with this...

Honorable Mansion

Theatre Review (Musical)
Grey Gardens
Northlight Theatre
Skokie, IL
@@@1/2

Much as when I saw the original Broadway production last year, Northlight's rendition of Grey Gardens was an impressive production of a solid musical with an interesting story featuring an excellent leading lady. But due to the music itself being workable yet not particularly memorable, the show, as in New York, fell short of being outstanding.

Based on a 1975 documentary of the same name, Grey Gardens tells the story of Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter Edie, the aunt and cousin of Jackie Onassis, who wound up living in filth in their once glorious but fallen into disrepair East Hampton mansion named Grey Gardens.

The first act of the musical shows the Beales when they were ostensibly high-on-the-hog yet still somewhat delusional, about to celebrate Edie's engagement to Joe Kennedy in 1941. I won't reveal plot details, but the fact that Act II showcases their lives in 1973, shared with 52 cats--luckily not onstage, as I'm allergic--should indicate that not everything went as planned.

Noted Chicago actress Hollis Resnik plays Edith in Act I and Edie in Act II, and while not quite on par with Broadway star Christine Ebersole, she is very good. As are all her castmates. And just as an introduction to a historical side show of sorts, on both the highest and lowest levels, the show is worth seeing. For what it is, it is well done, and I'd give the performance itself @@@@1/2. But a performance is always at the mercy of its source material, and it's quite unlikely you'll come away humming any songs or seeking out the original cast recording.

So as an evening of theatre, it gets my vote. But to describe it as a truly great musical, well the cats' got my tongue.

A Forgettable Bond; An Enriching Experience

Movie Reviews:
Quantum of Solace @@1/2
Slumdog Millionaire @@@@1/2

I saw two extremely disparate movies this weekend, in terms of content and quality.

Quantum of Solace, the new James Bond movie, was eminently watchable due to a lot of action and Daniel Craig, who is a very good Bond. But its story line was lacking and I expect, so too will be its lasting impact. Quantum is ostensibly a sequel to Casino Royale, the first Craig as Bond film, which while not quite awesome, was thoroughly enjoyable, in part due to the relationship between Bond and Vesper Lynd, played by the fabulous Eva Green. STOP READING HERE if you don’t want to know that Vesper died at the end of Casino Royale, and supposedly Quantum is about Bond getting revenge. But just how the bad guys are connected with the past circumstances is tenuously explained at best. Especially without Eva Green around, even in flashbacks, they should’ve just started over with a whole new premise. New Bond girls Olga Kurylenko and Gemma Arterton are attractive but eminently bland. Basically, Quantum—surprisingly directed by Marc Forster, whose body of work is much more unique and impressive than what he did here—is a decent “popcorn movie” and not the worst way to spend 2 hours, but the premise, plot, villains and women all fell far short of fabulous, and as some critics have argued, the action sequences may have been far too extensive for what Bond is supposed to be. Craig may have resurrected the Bond franchise, and even my interest, but whereas Carly Simon once sang “Nobody Does it Better” about James Bond, for my money, Jason Bourne now does.

Quite different, and considerably better, was Slumdog Millionaire, a limited-release gem from acclaimed English director Danny Boyle depicting life in the slums of India. Thoroughly original, engaging and eye-opening, Slumdog Millionaire opens with Jamal Malik (Dev Patel) about to win 20 million rupees on the Indian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” but instead is arrested and tortured on suspicion of cheating. In telling the police how he came to know the answers, Jamal describes his life on the outskirts of society and how he made his was through as something of a Dickensesque urchin, driven by a desire to save his childhood friend Latika, who upon adulthood—as played by Freida Pinto—is about as attractive a woman as you will ever see. Some reviewers have complained that she is too beautiful for the purpose of the story, and there does seem to be a bit of contrivance to the whole thing, but in the age of ubiquitous hyper-action blockbusters (i.e. Quantum of Solace) and other stupid pedestrian fare, Slumdog Millionaire is far different—and better—than almost anything else you can see these days. It’s being listed as a favorite for a Best Picture Oscar nomination, and deservedly so.

What the Boss has been working on

It certainly isn't Springsteen's greatest song, but I still like it. As the title tune of his new album, due out January 27, Working on a Dream (which you can listen to by clicking) fits in well with the hopes for a better tomorrobama.

Smashingly Surprising, almost in full (with a twist)

Concert Review
Smashing Pumpkins
November 21, 2008
Auditorium Theatre - Chicago
@@@@1/2

Having attended Wednesday's "Night 2" Smashing Pumpkins concert at the Chicago Theatre (see post below) and being highly impressed until it went off the rails, but also having read about Tuesday's "Night 1" show which was seemingly likewise a solid show marred by a late barrage of musical droning and Billy Corgan's berating of the crowd, I went into the Night 1 show at the Auditorium with both anticipation and trepidation.

What I got was a surprisingly good show throughout, that never really went off the rails, albeit by accident.

I won't go on again about the propriety of the current semi-reconstituted Smashing Pumpkins, and taking the music simply at face value, for a big fan of their best music, getting to hear stellar versions of Tonight Tonight, Today, Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Siva, Mayonnaise and even the new Tarantula and G.L.O.W. was undeniably enjoyable (though I still say original SP guitarist James Iha brought something to the sound that is now lacking).

Even when the Pumpkins went into long instrumental passages, they were largely rocking and/or melodic, not indulgent droning as in Wednesday's show. But according to the reviews of Tuesday's show, the worst came in the encore. So when the Pumpkins ended their standard Night 1 setlist with their long, droning cover of Pink Floyd's "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun," it provided a nice bathroom break after 2 hours of solidly enjoyable music.

And while I was kind of looking forward to witnessing the largely pre-planned, show closing Billy meltdown for myself, Billy did something even more shocking. He walked off the stage and didn't come back for an encore, despite fans screaming for one for 15 minutes with the house lights up.

As it turns out, I guess he was sick, or vocally exhausted, as the Night 2 show on Saturday (which I was not planning to attend) was postponed. He hadn't really taken the criticism from Tuesday night (and other tour stops) to heart and decided to stop the show before he descended into madness and pissed off some of his adoring fans.

But while not happy that Corgan became ill, and curious about what I didn't get to witness, I'm actually glad it ended when it did. Billy didn't have the chance to diminish an otherwise excellent show; he should end there all the time.

Surprisingly Smashing, but only in Half

Concert Review
Smashing Pumpkins
November 19, 2008
Chicago Theatre
@@@@

I have been a big Smashing Pumpkins fan for a long time and have seen them more live than any other artist except for Bruce Springsteen. And though I frequently find head Pumpkin Billy Corgan to be confounding, even maddening, I also think he is enormously talented—even underrated—as a songwriter and guitarist. So while I don’t know if I quite get or fully endorse how Billy and drummer Jimmy Chamberlain—minus the other two founding Pumpkins, plus seven additional musicians—can legitimately sell the notion of a reunited Smashing Pumpkins (Billy & Jimmy also were the core members of Zwan, which they created after the Pumpkins broke up in 2000), I like the music they used to create and even their recent output enough not to care too closely.

But while Billy can seemingly endlessly write enjoyable 4 minute songs, he, Jimmy and—likely without much say in the matter—their current hired hands also seem to have a great affinity for what I’ll call “sonic tornados.” Though they officially begin as songs, they really aren’t recognizable as such, nor are they really jams or solos, and singing is virtually non-existent. These sonic tornados can best be described as swirling blasts of music that go on for 10 minutes or more. Due to Billy & Jimmy’s formidable craftsmanship on their instruments, the tornados can be enjoyable in moderation and even phenomenal in spurts, but they now tend to take over at least half of a reconstituted Pumpkins show, last night being my 3rd since 2007.

And depending on one’s own comfort level at a given show, sitting through an hour or more of these sonic tornados can range from tolerable to tedious to interminable, especially if accompanied by angry rants from Corgan, as I read about happening at Tuesday night’s show. Given that, as well as the fact that when I saw the Pumpkins this past August in Hammond, IN and also last year at the Voodoo Music Experience in New Orleans they were only truly great for about 40 of 120+ minutes, I was somewhat leery about what I would discover at Wednesday night’s show (featuring a White Crosses setlist; the first night is Black Sunshine).

Well, what I found was that for the first 90 minutes, the Smashing Pumpkins (as they now exist) were excellent. Billy seemed relaxed and almost amiable, and even with a number of unfamiliar acoustic songs in the setlist, everything sounded good. Though especially for the harder tunes, like Cherub Rock, Zero and I of the Mourning, the sound could’ve been much louder. And while the 9-piece band was solid, all could have been replaced by machines for all the stage presence the brought to the show. Although Ginger Reyes did fill Billy’s requirement of always having an attractive female bassist to his right. And while not a huge loss, I did miss James Iha a bit; he used to add great guitar fills that went underappreciated.

Anyway, if after 90 minutes, the band played one more major hit and walked off-stage, it would’ve been a great show. But rather, after announcing that he had a cold, chatting aimlessly about the Cubs & White Sox (he's a Cubs fan) and doing a nice version of Disarm, Billy and the Pumpkins went on to play another 80 minutes, primarily filled with sonic tornados, any 10 minutes of which would’ve been fine, but in sum was way too much. The more they played, the more they diminished, rather than enhanced, what was shaping up as a triumphant performance.

Of course, just as I could not stay away from the Pumpkins as they played in Chicago for the first time since 2000, I am also going to see them on Friday night, the first night of a 2-night stand, still in Chicago, but at the Auditorium Theatre. I’ll get a completely different setlist than last night, and out of nearly 6 hours of music, I’ll theoretically will have seen 3 hours that were wonderful.

And then, after 15 Smashing Pumpkins shows and another 7 Corgan/Zwan performances, I think I can move on. But don't hold me to it.

I Guess One Year is All It Takes

What do Ryan Dempster, Ted Lilly, Carlos Zambrano, Mark Prior, Jon Lieber, Kevin Tapani, Mike Bielecki and Rick Sutcliffe have in common?

Well sure, they've all pitched for the Cubs, but they're also all pitchers who, over the past 25 years, won at least 17 games in a season for the Cubs. Once. (Greg Maddux did so 3 times)

So on the one hand I understand the Cubs desire to resign Dempster, as announced today, to a 4-year, $52 million contract. He had a great season, going 17-6, with a 2.96 ERA, and though he flopped in the playoffs, such pitching campaigns clearly aren't an every-year occurrence for the Cubs. And as a Free Agent, he probably got from the Cubs what he would've gotten elsewhere.

On the other hand, based on history, he's probably not likely to repeat himself. Though I realize, he's seemingly now fully recovered from a devastating arm injury that derailed his career--at least as a successful starter--several years ago. And he's still only 31.

But like any sensible Cubs fan, I will assume the worst until proven otherwise.

Little Ditty about John and Barack...

In light of their meeting yesterday, the Chicago Sun-Times is having a caption contest based on the above photo.

This was my entry:

"Now tell me, Sarah Palin, what was that really about?"

I know, kind of obvious. But the one I wanted to use is unfortunately about 15 years too old:

"So did you see the one where Beavis lights Butthead's hair on fire? Heh-heh, heh-heh."

Got any better suggestions?

I I Think Think It It Was Was Good Good

As another stop on my ongoing quest to appreciate others’ brilliance, on Saturday afternoon I saw acclaimed Chinese pianist Lang Lang at Orchestra Hall. Since it was special “family” performance—a bit more talking than normal, only 1:15 in length—of what was already a non-traditional program mostly highlighting Chinese music, I won’t give it a formal review but I enjoyed it very much. And while not well-qualified to judge the relative merits of a concert pianist, from what I can tell Lang Lang—who has garnered both glowing and scathing critiques, according to his Wikipedia article—was outstanding.

But then, so was Kate Liu, a 14-year old Chicago-area piano student who won an audition to accompany Lang Lang on a piece by Schubert (the only Western composer featured). And so too, at least in her own realm, was Soyoung Kee, another area pianist who gave a recital at the Skokie Public Library yesterday. Her past credits, while impressive (doctorate in piano, seemingly noted as a local teacher, some performances worthy of mention but not with any major symphonies) pale in comparison to someone like Lang Lang, and to my untrained ear, his playing was significantly superior, but perhaps that was as much due to the choice of pieces than the performances itself.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that unlike rock and roll and even Broadway, where my familiarity with various artists/composers is pretty vast, when it comes to other art forms that I’m still dabbling in exploring—classical, opera, jazz, even some forms of dance—all I know is what I like, and typically my exposure is primarily to performers who have already been highly acclaimed. You wouldn’t be on the stage at Orchestra Hall unless you were great, at least to some level, but if and when critics degrade Lang Lang, I’m almost certain to have no comprehension as to what they’re critiquing. Plus unlike popular music, where I can somewhat appreciate nuance and texture, generally in the less familiar modes, the faster and louder it is, the more I like it. And that sort of judgment probably isn't fair to the performers or the art forms.

What should I be listening for to better appreciate just how good (or even not so good) someone is?