Blurbex

Got this from the Darden Rice campaign for Pinellas County commissioner:

Darden asks Rene, “Where’d ya get that yard sign?”

ST. PETERSBURG, FL – Yard signs are among the most visible parts of a campaign – and so are their hiccups. The Darden Rice campaign posted a picture today of her opponent’s misspelled yard sign …

“There are just some details you have to get right,” said Darden Rice. “Especially the name of the job you’re asking voters to hire you for.”

Here’s that photo:

Now, do you think former St. Petersburg City Councilmember Rene Flowers has to pay for those signs?

But the real question I have is this: Is a misspelled yard sign really that big of deal to voters? As a Pinellas County resident — with all the issues facing us like taxes, crunched budgets, crime — would a yard sign really make or break your support for Flowers? Or does it make Rice look petty?

There’s no doubt that the Church of Scientology has improved its image in the last decade or so. A little less secretive, a little less scary (although still creepy), more the butt of a good joke than a genuine threat.

Nonetheless, before you walk into a Scientology storefront on a drunken lark and fill out some paperwork, consider this:

My brother Kurt just received yet another piece of mail from the Church of Scientology, telling him “You are eligible for a free-six month membership in the International Association of Scientologists.”

Kurt’s been getting mail from Scientology for 29 years. As a 17-year-old living in St. Pete, he was briefly the drummer for a band that included a couple of Scientologists (the band was Tarkhill Firetower, just in case someone might remember).

Kurt — in his callow, impressionable youthfulness — attended a two-hour seminar or some such thing. He quickly decided it wasn’t for him.

But the mail started to come. And it has kept on coming, through more than a half-dozen moves. Kurt now lives with his family in a small town in central Tennessee, not exactly a hotbed of Scientological activity, and he’s more amused than anything.

He’s just glad they don’t have his e-mail address.

Reunited and it feels so good: A pair of well-known duos make their returns to multiplexes this weekend. Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly (Talladega Nights) team up as middle-aged sibling rivals in Step Brothers (read Lance Goldenberg’s review).

Meanwhile, Mulder and Scully are together again after a 10-year layoff in The X-Files: I Want to Believe. If the reviews on Rotten Tomatoes are any indication, this may be the last go-round for the FBI agents with a penchant for investigating the supernatural.

Granted, the Tampa Bay Rays have sustained me through the summer thus far, but I’m amped about the U.S. Olympic basketball team kicking into gear.

U.S.A. Basketball stunk it up in the last Olympics. The chemistry looked shaky; they didn’t play as a team. Finished with the bronze. The ’08 edition looks and feels better; more care seems to have gone into finding players to fill roles rather than just amassing a gang of gunners.

The U.S. squad begins pre-Olympic games tonight vs. Canada (8 p.m., ESPN). It sure seems like the American players are motivated to re-establish hoops dominance on the international stage. Most of the players made long-term commitments to get to this point.

Here’s a quick breakdown:

(more…)

1. Reggae royal family Morgan Heritage – a St. Thomas band formed by five children of reggae heavyweight Denroy Morgan – bring their island sounds to Jannus Landing tonight. Fri., July 25, 8 p.m., 16 Second St. N., St. Petersburg, $18, jannuslandingconcerts.com.

2. Cigar City Magazine holds a launch party for its July/August West Tampa issue and featuring an exhibit of black-and-white images of historic West Tampa cigar factories by architectural photographer Todd McDonald. Fri., July 25, 7-10 p.m., West Tampa Center for the Arts (in the former Santaella Cigar Factory), 1906 N. Armenia Ave., $2 suggested donation, Tampa, 813-453-4381. 

3. Return of the Living Dead is screened in between sets of punk music during Zombie Beach Night at Beach Theatre. The regular midnight screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show with performances by RHPS live cast Interchangeable Parts follows. Sat., July 26, 10:30 p.m., 315 Corey Ave., St. Pete Beach, $5 admission for each film/$8 for both, 727-360-6697. 

4. Shop for a variety of art goodies, from original paintings and art prints to art supplies, as well as tools, books, clothing, electronics, CDs, music equipment and plenty else at the Best Garage Sale Ever! at Vitale Studio. Sat., July 26, 9 a.m.-5 p.m., 2740 25th St. N., St. Petersburg.

5. The Summer Camp Fest continues through the weekend with a variety of related entertainment at Studio at 620.

 Shout outs to some local bloggers:

• St. Petersblog rips into Progress Energy CEO Jeff Lyash and the “community” effort to find the Tampa Bay Rays a spot for their new stadium.
• Want to see some more theater shows, but your wallet is empty? David Jenkins has an idea on how you can get in for free.
• Pelicans’ Last Supper on Sticks of Fire.
• Lenny Bruce recollections over on Pushing Rope.

I was a writer for the St. Petersburg Times from 1987-1993, and one of the first pieces of advice I got (I think I heard it initially from then managing editor Mike Foley) was “get the dog’s name.”

That turned out to be an old journalism saw encouraging writers to get as much detail as possible.

During my tenure at the Times, I don’t remember if I ever got the dog’s name. As the pop music critic, I didn’t have many opportunities (maybe if I interviewed someone at their house and they had a pooch).

Apparently, getting the dog’s name is still part of the modus operandi at the newspaper. In today’s front-page story about a young man, James Kenneth McElroy, who attacked his family in Tampa, Thomas Kaplan writes:

Another neighbor, Bob Torres, 56, never got to meet [the family]. On Tuesday night, Torres and his son had been walking their German shepherd, Jason, when they passed the McElroy family’s small, olive-colored ranch house, its lawn in need of a mowing.

That reads kind of silly to me. I really don’t care what the dog’s name is. As an adage, “get the dog’s name” works, but as far as including it in the copy, not so much.

In this week’s Urban Explorer, I tackle local art theft and profile a couple artists whose artwork was stolen, literally, right off the wall at a gallery and restaurant.

It’s not a rare occurrence. Talk to any prolific artist and most likely they’ll have a story or two about pilfered paintings.

As I reported the piece, I thought about the good it could do to get pictures of the stolen art into the public eye. So, if you read the online version of the story, there are photos of the stolen pieces I wrote about.

But there are only two photos so far. If you’ve had art stolen, I’d like to post your photos, too.

So, if you have a digital photo of your stolen artwork, go to the Creative Loafing You Shoot page and upload the photo via Flickr. Once received, we’ll post the photos on the story’s web page. Just think of it as a digital milk carton. And, hopefully, it’ll lead to the reuniting of you and your work.

1. Two big mouths play in town tonight: Guttermouth at Orpheum in Ybor City, and Cowboy Mouth (pictured) at Jannus Landing in St. Pete.

2. Taste a variety of cheeses from Ireland during a special presentation at Whole Foods this evening.

3. The Studio at 620 kicks off three days of campy goodness during its Summer Camp exhibit and film festival. The opening night reception starts at 8 p.m. with Broadway’s Michelle Dowdy in a “Beyond Hairspray” presentation followed by a “The Singing Sitcoms” performance featuring Bob Devin-Jones and an ensemble cast. The screening of John Waters’ original 1988 version of Hairspray (starring Ricki Lake and Divine) follows.

4. Pinellas County Center for the Arts (PCCA) was selected to perform at Scotland’s Edinburgh International Festival next August. To raise money for the trip, the school stages a special student presentation of The Producers tonight through Friday night at 7:30 p.m. at Gibbs High School in St. Pete; tickets are $10 adults, $8 students.

5. Inkwood Books welcomes Ian Vasquez, who signs copies of his debut novel, In the Heat, a New York Daily News “Beach Read for Guys” selection.

How is it that a barely-funded series of web shorts produced during the writers’ strike manages to be better than just about everything aired on TV?

Part of the reason is Joss Whedon, the man behind Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. Whedon — of Buffy, Firefly and Serenity fame — is known for snappy dialogue, engaging stories and a keen talent for creating fan buzz. Last week he released Dr. Horrible with little fanfare, posting three fifteen-minute episodes throughout the week. You could view them for free on the Dr. Horrible site, but only through last Sunday.

Now they’re $1.99 each on iTunes. And worth every penny.

There’s nothing new to this comic tale of a nascent super-villain trying to make it into the big leagues, but when that story is told with Whedon’s flair for dialogue, a half-dozen musical numbers and the comedy genius of Neil Patrick Harris in the starring role, it’s gold. Whedon regular Nathan Filion plays Captain Hammer — the doctor’s arch-nemesis — with oblivious, scene-eating verve and the entire production manages to be slick and humble at the same time.

That might be the ultimate appeal of Dr. Horrible. The countless home-made video blogs and shorts posted on Youtube and the like create an aura of low expectations for web films, making it easy for Whedon and crew to surpass the perceived potential at every step. The actors are better than the script, the script is better than the plot and the plot is good enough to generate some pathos and interest. Most of the laughs come from obvious slapstick or surprise — the head of the League of Evil is a villain called Bad Horse (the Thoroughbred of the Apocalypse), silently played by an actual horse in the show’s final scene — but they work.

Experience has trained all of us to know in our bones that 99% of online entertainment is pure crap. Maybe the real lesson in Dr. Horrible is that a skilled storyteller and some out-of-work production pros can turn those lowered expectations into honest-to-goodness blockbuster fun.

Wanna get Joe Bardi to exclaim “Damn it!”? Do what loyal commenter David Jenkins did on our blog post about the best superhero flicks and mention the “Ninja Rap” song from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret of the Ooze. In case you’ve conveniently forgotten this lost classic, here’s the video:

Chris Simms, the dude don’t give a fuck. The Bucs quarterback — for so long a good, obedient soldier — talked out of school not long ago. He told the St. Pete Times that GM Bruce Allen had asked him how he thought Brett Favre would fit in as a Tampa Bay quarterback.

This is some deep inside stuff, and it would certainly seem that the Bucs did not want it getting out that they had an interest in Favre (even though speculation had been rampant among sports pundits).

(more…)

After getting denied service at the Mobil station on the corner of Fourth Street N. and Ninth Avenue in St. Pete this morning (the pump told me to “See Attendant” and I don’t do that), I drove up the road a few blocks to the Bob Lee Mobil at 1631 Fourth Street N. Though Bob Lee Tires has been in this location since the 1940s, I think the gas station has been recently renovated. In truth, I have a hard time keeping up with all the Fourth Street development these days.

Upon pulling in, I noticed that the rows of pumps were really close together. So close, that only one vehicle would fit between them at any one time. Odd layout, I thought. Despite their close proximity to one another, the pumps were shinny and new, and the gas was cheap by local standards ($3.89 a gallon), so I decided to fill up. I had popped out of my car and was digging in my pocket for my wallet when the heavy-set man in the blue workman shirt that cried out “I work on cars!” spoke up:

“May I help you, sir?”

“Um, no thanks. I’m just getting some gas.”

“All our pumps are full serve, sir.”

I was flabbergasted. Had I awoken in the 1950s or in New Jersey? And which one would be worse? (I lean modern-day Jersey, myself.) To be honest, I wasn’t even sure what to do. Do I just stand here? Do I get back into the car?

(more…)

1. Clip Film Series — a program offered by the Tampa International Gay and Lesbian Film Festival – presents its July selections: the Chad Allen drama, Save Me, followed by two episodes of the new LOGO series Sordid Lives, which is based on the indie film by Del Shores. (Pictured at right: Allen and co-star Robert Gant.)

2. It’s another Wednesday evening fundraiser for the nonprofit Abilities Foundation, this one a six-course Spanish Wine Dinner hosted by La Fogata Churrascaria and featuring Montecillo and Osborne wine pairings by Osborne U.S. Associate Pablo Pelaez.

3. American Stage kicks off a four-night run of An Evening Wasted with the Songs of Tom Lehrer, which is produced by Julie Rowe and T. Scott Wooten, aka, Economic Stimulus Productions.

4. The Zappa Plays Zappa tour – featuring Dweezil Zappa, a lineup of talented musicians and special guest Ray White – plays in Orlando. Definitely worth the drive if you’re a Zappa fan.

5. Side Splitters Comedy Club welcomes Got Jokes?, a new local improv troupe that claims it has a “fresh, hip and innovative approach” to improv comedy.

With The Dark Knight raking in monster box-office and critical raves, and this week’s CL cover story focused on what our superheroes say about who we are as a culture, Joe Bardi and I were inspired to each make our lists of the best superhero flicks of all time. Joe offers 10 films in eight entries, while I give a traditional top 10 list. Enjoy!

Joe’s Picks:
1. Batman Begins/The Dark Knight: The new kings of the comic-book castle. Begins sets the table, and then The Dark Knight redefines the genre for the 21st century. I don’t see how anyone — not even director Christopher Nolan and his team — will top Knight for a long, long time.
2. The Matrix: Though not based on original graphic novel source material, there is no denying that The Matrix set the standard for all the modern comic book/superhero franchises. There is no Dark Knight without Keanu and Co’s reality-bending excursion into virtual reality.
3. Die Hard: Sure, Die Hard might seem out of place on a list of flicks about guys dressed as insects and flying rodents. Still, how can a list of superhero movies not include NYC cop/terrorist-killer John McClaine? In the original Die Hard, Bruce Willis tries his best to make McClain an everyman, and winds up creating one of the quintessential superheroes of the 1980s.
4. Superman/Superman 2: Really more of one big movie than two individual films. Superman and Superman II were both the babies of Richard Donner (Lethal Weapon, Goonies). After Donner had completed Superman and was halfway through shooting Superman II, the studio replaced him with A Hard Day’s Night director Richard Lester, causing Superman II to suffer a bit from the lack of consistency at the helm. Still, I find the sequel more fun to watch than the original.
5. Iron Man: 2008’s other excellent comic-book movie, and the first one from Marvel’s new production company. Iron Man manages to combine a terrific performance by Robert Downey Jr. with a plot that carries weight in these over-militarized times. It’s also damn funny.
6. The Incredibles: A Pixar animated feature about a family of superheroes, The Incredibles manages the difficult task of satirizing the superhero flick while delivering an excellent take on the genre that appeals to the whole family. Can’t wait for the sequel.
7. Spider-Man 2: I was never a huge Spider-Man fan, though I do appreciate what director Sam Raimi brought to the web-crawling franchise. Spider-Man 2 is easily the best of the Spidey flicks, primarily because of the villainous Doc Ock and his amazing tentacles.
8. Batman: The Tim Burton/Michael Keaton original holds up today largely on the back of the amazing production design and Jack Nicholson’s inspired performance as The Joker. I’m partial to Batman Returns, actually, as I find it a much more entertaining experience than this brooding original, but I fear villagers with pitchforks might show up at the Loaf office if I rank Returns over Batman. So I won’t — but you’re all wrong!

(more…)

For those of us intelligent and tasteful individuals who miss HBO’s The Wire — which was egregiously snubbed by the Emmys this year, yet again — let me suggest something of a surrogate.
It’s called Generation Kill, (9 p.m. Sundays, HBO) a seven-part mini-series about the Marines of First Recon Battalion during the initial 40 days of the Iraq War.

The show, which runs about an hour and a quarter, has the same visceral, hyper-real feel of The Wire. GK is based on a book by Evan Wright, who was embedded with the Marines as a reporter for Rolling Stone. Its executive producers include David Simon and Ed Burns (yes, from The Wire), who also do a fair share of the writing.

(more…)

There is nothing better than getting wrapped up in a good book, especially in the summertime, when a great read is key for lounging on the beach or relaxing at home on a rainy day. Plus, the economy sucks, we’re all broke and — with a valid public library card — books are free. So I’ve compiled a short list of books to read this summer:

1. David Sedaris’ new collection of essays When You Are Engulfed in Flames. While reading Sedaris’ best-selling Me Talk Pretty One Day, published 2001, I laughed myself to tears before finding myself morbidly depressed at finishing it. When You Are Engulfed in Flames is his much-anticipated sixth collection of essays. I would recommend actually buying this one because 1) you’ll probably want to keep it around and 2) Sedaris is so good he deserves your money. Click here for an in-depth review by the New York Times

2.  The Prodigal Tongue: Dispatches from the Future of English by Mark Abley. Abley explores the fluid reworkings of the English language, making his newest book about language a must-read for word-nerds. From Henry Hitchings’ review for The Telegraph:

Attuned to pop culture as well as to scholarship, Abley proves a deft social anthropologist. On field trips to Singapore, Japan, Oxford and Los Angeles, he has sampled the plosive rhythms of hip-hop and African American vernacular, the spicy hybrid that is Spanglish, the “gnarled gobbets” of Asian English, and the zippy argot of cyberspace, where novelties proliferate at a particularly startling rate.

3. In honor of Entertainment Weekly’s 1,000th issue, the magazine compiled a list of the 100 best reads of the last 25 years. One of my all-time favorites, American Pastoral by Philip Roth, came in at number 5. Pastoral, published in 1997, focuses on Swede Levov and the tragedy that befalls his perfect family when his only daughter becomes a terrorist in a paroxysm of rage over the Vietnam War. When you’re done reading that, you might want to check out Roth’s anti-pastoral, Sabbath’s Theater.

4. If the title alone isn’t enough to entice your readership, the past eight years and a recent testimony before the House Judiciary Committee by former White House Press Secretary and author Scott McClellan should be. His book What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington’s Culture of Deception is a memoir chronicling his experience as one of the president’s closest advisers. Click here to read some highlights.

5. And something for all you fantasy lovers: local author Dora Machado’s debut novel Stonewiser: The Heart of the Stone. In Stonewiser, a mysterious rot has been eating away at the entire world, and only the tales preserved in the hearts of the stones can provide the truth. The Stonewisers are the blessed ones able to read what’s hidden inside the stones, and the most gifted one is Sariah, Machado’s main character. When Sariah discovers untruths in the stone tales she goes on a desperate quest to restore justice. The Heart of the Stone is the first installment of a three-part series. Read the review by Science Fiction & Fantasy Media a.k.a sffmedia.com.

1. Two much-anticipated new albums hit stores today: Dr. Dog’s fifth, Fate (streaming in its entirety here); and the U.S. release of Paul Weller’s ninth, the double-disc 22 Dreams. Support independent music stores and purchase your copy at Vinyl Fever or Mojo Records.

2. Bust out the Aquanet and spandex – Poison takes the stage at Ford Amphitheatre tonight! Hair metal co-horts Sebastian Bach and Dokken provide support, and Poison frontman Bret Michaels appears for a post-show meet-and-greet party with fans at Floyd’s at Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino.3. M3 Tuesdays at Whiskey North is a “Meet-Mix-Mingle” event featuring old school hip-hop, R&B and house spins by DJ Silence until 8 p.m. followed by live jazz by City Groove from 8 to 10 p.m.

4. Tanya & Matt’s Ice Creamiest celebrates National Ice Cream Month with free scoops from noon to 6 p.m. at both of the Tampa locations.

5. Dash Rip Rock brings their fun cow punk back to Skipper’s Smokehouse.

Bucs camp starts Saturday and I don’t care.

Well, I care a little, I guess, but not like I used to in the past. I picked up the sports section today and there was the obligatory story about keen areas of competition expected in camp — running backs, receivers, etc. — and I barely skimmed it.

Last year, and the years before, I would’ve been all over it.

Why? The Rays, man.

Until this year, I, like so many Tampa Bay sports fans, slogged through late June and July — with the NBA Playoffs over and our baseball team already 20 games under .500.

Football training camp represented a rebirth. Throw me a crumb about the battle for who’s going to return kickoffs, or the human interest story on the 127th kid who’s overcome adversity, and I am on it.

Hey, I’ll probably still read those stories, but they won’t be the lifeline they’ve been before. And I’ll read the Rays stories first.

Does this mean I’m getting old?

Lately, as I’ve been flipping through stations on the radio, I’ve heard a lot of songs by bands that I enjoyed as a teenager playing on classic rock station 102.5 The Bone.

“Come on, I’m only 31! This can’t be considered classic rock,” I plead to the stifling air in the car’s cabin the first time I heard The Bone play a Metallica tune.

That’s only how it started. Metallica? OK, I guess. I mean, they’ve been together since the early ’80s and burst onto the scene in ‘83 with Kill Em’ All. I guess a band that’s been around that long could be considered a “classic.” After all, it was 25 years ago. (Hard to believe, right?)

But then I was even more alarmed when I started hearing bands from the ’90s being passed off as classic rock: Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam, among others. I was so freaked out I almost stopped listening to the radio. But then I realized I would be listening to those same bands on CD (in my car) or on tape (at home; yes, I still have a tape collection for some reason), and it was too late to stop the “am-I-really-getting- old-enough-for-this-to-happen-to-me?” question from entering my head.

Don’t get me wrong, I like a lot of new music, and am definitely not stuck in the ’90s, but these bands were around during my coming-of-age, and so they have a special place in my life. I grew up with them, and it doesn’t seem that long ago that I was barely done growing up.

It’s just that I can’t be old enough to have listened to “classics” that were new while I was in high school.

I discussed this with a good friend of about the same age a couple weeks ago on the golf course. He agreed that it was really weird hearing these bands on the radio, being passed off as classic rock when it wasn’t that long ago that they came out.

How can this be? Do we really get old so fast? I catch myself (and cringe) when I talk about the (good old?) days when gas was around $1-a-gallon. I can remember the only slightly-annoyed sighs from people when gas would rise just over that $1-a-gallon mark.

I stopped myself recently from mentioning to someone younger than me that I used to pay $1.35 (!) a pack for Camel Lights (close to $4 a pack now). I can remember a time when the Internet was unheard of; when it was more the stuff of science-fiction that technically exists but not a part of everyday existence. I can remember my parents listening to records, actual vinyl records, when I was younger. I remember freaking 8-track tapes in the drawers of the desk in our living room.

I remember looking through my dad’s junk box as a kid, checking out his high school-era mementos and feeling like I was looking at ancient artifacts, joking that he was older than dirt, etc. He was about the same age then that I am now. Sorry dad.

At least I’m still young enough for this to freak me out, so I guess it’s not too bad. Someday I’ll be so accustomed to this sort of thing that it won’t even bother me anymore. I’ll unabashedly tell younger people “when I was your age” stories. I’ll probably tell them things like, “I remember a time when Delta didn’t even fly to the moon,” or “I remember when you needed an actual piece of computer equipment to surf the web,” or “Used to be an ID was a card with your photo on it and not something embedded in your wrist.”

And by then I’m sure I’ll be cranking Nirvana on the full-fledged “Golden Oldies” stations.