Walls & Windows Exhibit

Last night was the opening for Todd Wozniak, Israel Davis and Nate Tonning at the Avenue of the Arts' Tributary Art Gallery.

This collection of ceramic sculpture & pottery was a breath of fresh air on the gallery scene that has of late become rather stuffy. While the guitarist played requests from the attendees, the art was clearly center stage as patrons would gather around the works in conversation.

Israel Davis' work was very whimsical in its fun presentation. While I will not try to unlock the mystery of his works here, I do believe it is important to see this show.

Tributary Gallery is headed by the Bouck brothers who along with other up start galleries on the newly named Avenue of the Arts are changing the art landscape of this town one show at a time.

For those who miss the early 90's energy of the Reptile House and the loft art openings from artist Nate Neering, this new group of galleries has revived that energy on this street.

Tributary Art Gallery
40 S. Division
Grand Rapids, MI 49503
Phone: (616)458-4124 (Call for Hours)

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Next Stop, Bethlehem (An Original Christmas Story)

Feel The Burn

Sometimes a picture says it all and after a long holiday of bottomless beverages, sugar laden treats and meals that spill into other meals, it is time to return to a healthy path and get back on track.

So good bye to the holidays and hello to the new year's resolutions.

Stay strong!

This is just wrong, wrong, wrong

I am pretty open minded about most things concerning religion but the sight of this new producct got me scanning CNN, FOX and the MSNBC to see if Jesus had returned and was at this very moment attacking the Kabbalah Center.

For those who missed the Bible story while smoking cigarettes in the church parking lot, Jesus walked into chruch one day and got so mad when he discoverd that the religious leaders had turned the lobby into a Wal+Mart of religious trinkets and potions.

Needless to say he went Rambo on them as he turned up tables and sent products flying across the room.

Kabbalah Water just smells funny and it ain't because of the tap they use to bottle this stuff. It was crazy enough that Target was selling red string Kabbalah bracklets last year but I can hardly imagine what comes next. I seriously doubt that I will be shocked.

So without any further comment I offer up this new product that even I have a hard time swallowing.

See The Actual Ad Here: Kabbalah Water

LOL Holiday Gifts

Christmas can be a season of big let downs and rarely does a gift come along that prompts such uncontrollable laughter, but Jon Stewart's America desk calendar did just that.

So thank you, Michael, for giving so many good gifts this year....but most of all a good chuckle.

(Click on the image above to see why this calendar had me in stiches.)

" Oh My God, I RUINED CHRISTMAS!!! "

I tend to do a lot of favors. I do these good deeds to tip the balance back to good. I feel no matter how small that these favors are worth the effort...even if the effort is laughable.

This year and like every year my good friend Dave coordinates the drawing of names for a gift exchange with his family members. And like last year I assisted in notifying the lucky family member who they were buying a gift for this Christmas. This year it was to be conducted via email with me pulling out of a large envelope each of the member's name.

My next step was just to copy to the individual emails Dave's approved text, "FAMILY MEMBER NAME will be buying for NAME DRAWN FROM ENVELOPE." Dave made every thing so perfect that even I could not screw it up.

I was near the end of this long list of relatives when a funny thought hit me, What Would Dave Do if all the gifts under the tree were addressed to him?

I hastily sent off a note to Mark his brother in law and soon the holiday prank was hatched. When I saw Dave's mother a few weeks later I explained to her how this would all work. I was not sure if she would go for it but judging by the email I received in my mailbox today, it worked like a charm.

So Merry Christmas, Dave. Thanks for having a generous humorous spirit this year.

- Tommy

Mr. Labotz's WWDD's 12/26/2005 Email:

Tom,

my family implemented what I'm told was your plan to convince me that the gift exchange had gotten completely bollixed up...... and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I immediately pictured you in your office, trying to put together the gift exchange emails while simultaneously talking on the phone, burning a CD, listening to the radio, and sorting through your paperwork. It was easy for me to imagine that things somehow went awry. When it looked like I was on the verge of spiralling into an "Oh my God, I've ruined Christmas!" type of depression, they let me in on the "joke".

Ho........... Ho............ Ho.................

At first I was hard pressed to appreciate the humorous aspects of the situation; my family did not suffer the same problem. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.

Kudos for coming up with a great idea; even I can laugh about it now.

Dave
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Next Stop, Bethlehem (Original Holiday Story)

All My Best To You.

Also, New Christmas Story HERE

An Original Christmas Story Goes Live Tonight!!!

I bring you good tiding of great joy!!! A story has been born.

No, not that story.

A new story of the holidays...but Tommy style.

So check back later to see this holiday treat.

Merry CHRISTmas!

Tommy

Next Stop, Bethlehem (A Christmas Story)

Dear Friends, this is a rough draft of a new story I have been working on this holiday season. I hope you enjoy it. Most of all, it is my wish that you have a great Christmas!
Love, Live and Laugh Even More - Tommy

Next Stop, Bethlehem

The other day, while dashing through the snow filled streets, I got a flat tire. Needless to say I was not ready to include this added expense to my already growing seasonal act of maxing out my credit cards as I seek to promote good will with my gift list. Truth be told, this yearly act helps make the season less bright.

So not wasting any time I took my four aging Kojak bald tires to the repair shop and plopped down a sum that I would have rather used to secure a plane ticket out of this winter wonderland.

This is a common practice among those of us who live in the world of check to check. Items that must be dealt with as they ascend rapidly to the top of the list with no effort at all are always compared with something else we would rather be spending our cash. It could something as simple as a lost ticket at a parking ramp, “Well, that could have been a nice dinner at San Chez” to an unexpected crown for your tooth being equated with a weeklong lake front vacation home rental. To the paycheck challenged our lives are in constant comparison flux hell.

So after standing in a long line with the rest of the folks who were also seeking to ensure a skid free safe passage out of the city this holiday season, the attendant heralded the tidings of great joy.

"How do I say this but we are kind of backed up," the short gnome like attendant announced, "It will be at least an hour. This is a busy time of the year for us people."

I was biting back a smart comment about their need to step it up like his relatives in the North Pole. He needed to understand the need for speed and my desire to get my sleigh back up and running.

But all I could squeak out was a simple “Thanks.” Why blow it this close to Christmas?

As I crossed the street to the bakery I began to think about the reason for the season. How could I forget as I am reminded every few miles as I drive to my parent’s home each year. Frankenmuth, just North of my hometown of Flint, is also home to Bronner’s, THE WORLD’S LARGEST CHRISTMAS STORE, who has made it very clear with billboard after billboard that lines the highway with the words CHRISTmas WONDERLAND.

But here I am mid list at the end of the shopping season questioning the very story that we will be asked to honor at some point and in some fashion.

As I enter the bakery, one of the high tech joys of this shop is the ability to offer free wireless service. Some how Starbucks has not figured out how to offer it for free and thus one more reason not to like the Black Oil of Seattle’s reign.

Here I wander about like some crazed man, as my eyes never rise above a crotch height level. Most folks with a laptop understand this moment and have also been witnessed to the many folks who do not understand this quest for firepower. I am just glad today to find this place rather empty and an available power outlet.

Having plugged in I am ready to begin to work and make the most of this downtime. The road outside may have set me back but now I was on the super information highway clipping along at speeds generally reserved for gazelles.

And then the realization set in that I had nothing really pressing to do as my fingers were free to wander click by click to wherever my heart desired.

I did what most anyone would do when bored and launch the Google home page and type out some random interesting topic and let the journey begin.

I was just beginning to type my search of Bethleham when my phone rang. The caller id read Mom but I knew otherwise.

Yes, it was mom but it was December 23 Mom, the version of mother that like clock work calls to inquire what I want for Christmas. Hello Tommy Boy,” she greets me while making a reference to a oft viewed Chris Farley film, “I was just wondering what you want for Christmas this year?" Same line, it was just a different year.

Having resisted back at the tire store, I decided family does not count in these matters and I let it rip. "Oh, I was hoping for a Francis Francis espresso machine from Italy. It usually takes about 2-4 weeks to get it here."

"Well, well don't we have fancy tastes,” she wittily replies, “I guess we’ll have to wait and see if it is in Santa's bag this year."

In other words Mom is saying the only thing that is fat besides Santa is Chance in this case.

Having been beaten back down I softly say, “You do not need to get me anything. I’ll see you Christmas Eve. Bye.”

“Ok, see you then but don’t forget we are planning on visiting the Live Manger again this year. It is a family tradition. Don’t be late, son. Buh bye.” And then she was gone.

But so was I, because I had forgotten about this messed up tradition. Every year of my life my family has always bundled us up, equally packed us up like sardines and then drove to the inner city of Flint to a church parking lot that had been converted into a what most people would swear to be a replica of the birthplace of the Christ child.

Worst shows have closed on Broadway mid-performance but this one keeps plugging along with the same audio track that all the live silent actors move about to as they recreate this story.

Angels appear on the rooftop of the manger and open their mouths to sing the great tidings of joy, but nothing comes out of their mouth. Only the tidings of steam trail out of the angels clearly indicating not a virgin birth but that they were freezing their asses’ off on the top of a roof.

They spare no expense in this production, which includes a few live animals, a generous make up budget and even stadium speakers to broadcast this strictly by the tape program.


I think it was some where around my mid thirties that I noticed something I never noticed before. While most nativity sets in America include the wise men, this live nativity pageant play included a white man in black face makeup.

Between laughter and horror I found myself involuntarily asking out loud to no one in particular the question, “We are in downtown Flint and this church cannot find one African American to play this role?”

“Refill, sir,” the server inquired as I was transported back to present time and space.

The Google home page glowed on my screen as the blinking cursor invited me to wander. Thinking of time ago I began to wonder about the idea of a pregnant woman with a man who was not the father of her child being led on a donkey to a far off city only to discover there were no rooms.

I pictured myself as Joseph and wondered if I would have fared any better. In all reality, Joseph could have been gay given that most straight men would have a hard time settling down with a woman who’s previous lover was a real God. The performance anxiety alone would be too much for any straight husband to endure. So my coming to this conclusion is not too hard to understand with my revisionist vision of these events.

Before you begin casting stones, I feel what Joseph did regards of his sexuality was one of the noblest things a man could do. Most times the gay man is just called in to dance with the wife of the man who will not get funky on the dance floor.

I do not remember hearing if Jesus had any siblings. Surely if one of my own family members were in jail, I would visit and at least make one of the four books to record this history. But there really is nothing.

And what if Jesus’ silence on gay people was because he knew his stepfather was gay. Most times people who know someone who is gay tend to react more lovingly than those who do not. The only clue we have of Jesus’ paternal father is that he claims to be God’s only son. Joseph in silence served his purpose on the dance floor of dirt.

So I put myself in Joseph shoes and imagined a modern virgin birth. I imagined packing for the trip, arriving two hours for my international flight and checking in to our room in Bethlehem.

And then my cursor caught my eye. Of course, if Joseph were alive today at this very moment and faced with joining the throng of people also seeking passage during this season he would no doubt use an online booking agent.

Wasting no time I typed Bethlehem atTravelocity.com and entered in two people, one child, one night. Let's see, I want to check in December 24 and check out December 25. I was giddy at the idea that had Joseph had this technology how much nicer things would have been for Mary that celestial night.

Suddenly a brief flash and the screen announce in 5 seconds I would be transported to my list of area hotels to select from.

And just like so many years ago the screen presented hotel after hotel all with the same message for my heavenly party, and me "We're sorry, there is no availability to match your request."

I wonder if Mary would rather visit South Beach this Christmas?

©Tommy Allen, 2005

Yes, Virginia, There Is A Festivus.

Who knew it would happen like this but there it was looming on the calendar December 23rd. And those who are in the know know this is not a day to trifle with as we hurry home past last minute shoppers and drunken office workers, Festivus is upon us.

So what was supposed to be just another Friday night dinner at home, suddenly quickly changed as Vince showed up. We joked about the holiday a bit but this is no laughing matter.

Before we could escape it, Festivus kicked in.

Little did we know that the meal I had blindly prepared for this evening was eerily in line with the Festivus traditional of serving nothing that resembled a holiday meal. Only comfort food is allowed. So out with the Turkey, Duck or Ham and in with the hearty Italian sausage tomato cream sauce served over an equally meaty pasta with horse milk cheese.

Next was the Airing of Grievances. It would be unfair to reveal the true nature of the many comments shouted back and forth at each guest during this practice but lets just say they were very direct and in the spirit of "I've got a lot of problems with you people!" tradition.

My personal favorite part of the holiday event was the Feats of Strength. I was knocked out of the running right at the git go as I lost an arm wrestling match in the blink of an eye to Vince. But it was fun watching Vince and Michael battle it out over who would be triumphant.

Even Madison got in the game. At one point I thought she was going to either bite or hump the players who were battling it out on our game board of a living room rug. Either act by Madison would have been in the spirit of this game since Festivus is not over until the head of the household is wrestled and "pinned" to the floor. Madison was just trying to make sure we all knew she rules the roost.

Oh, you ask, "What about the no frills aluminum pole?"

Yes, Virginia, there was a pole but it never materialized properly since it held up our sparkling Christmas tree.

And just when I thought I would forever be spotlighted on the center stage of clumsiness, a Festivus Miracle appeared. Michael, the purveyor of perfection, knocked a purple glass MOMA Christmas bulb to the floor shattering it into a thousand glittering silver pieces.

The Liberation of the Aluminum Pole Has Begun!

Happy Festivus 2005.

Further reading on Festivus

'Tis The Season of Giving

It is that time again when giving kicks in and for those seeking a great tax break seriously consider a charitable donation before December 31, 2005.

The Katrina Emergency Tax Relief Act suspends the limitations on deductions for a cash contribution to a non-profit "public charity" made between August 28, 2005 - December 31, 2005. One can donate to any non-profit not just one associated with Katrina relief. Simply stated this means that 100% of this donation is deductible. (Be sure to alert one's accountant of this donation.)

So if you are looking for a Grand Rapids non-profit, please consider the Student Advancement Foundation (SAF). In my column for On The Town's December 2005 issue I had the chance to interview Susan Heartwell, SAF's Executive Director (pictured above), to discuss the scope of what they are accomplishing in the Grand Rapids Public Schools. It was truly a pleasure to see what they are doing at SAF.

One of their programs seeks to bring all the Grand Rapids public school libraries up to national standards. It would be nice to end the year with this project fully funded and completed.

To date they have raised $1.8 million and only need $200,000 to make this goal.

So in the spirit of the holiday I just wanted to give you the info about a great program and partner it with the great news of a terrific tax break this season.

Be sure to look for updates on this blog on the many artists and subjects I cover in my column. I hope in the coming months to be able to share more insights that I am not able to get into print due to limited word space within my column.

Web: Student Advancement Foundation
Mail Checks to The Grand Rapids Student Advancement Foundation
118 Commerce SW, Grand Rapids, MI 49503
Be sure to include Literacy Project on the subject line of your donation.

December's What The F#%*!

Sunday AM for most folks is a time to sleep in, brew a full pot of coffee and just ease into the day. So you can imagine my shock as I moved from the New York Times to the Grand Rapids Press and stumble upon a new face in the Advice section.

There it was the serenity now breaker in big black type, "Pushing condoms wrong for teens" by James Dobson of Focus On The Family. WTF?

On first observation I was shocked but not surprised to read this right wing rant about the sharing of condom knowledge with teens is the same thing as giving them permission. But in reality as I look over my friend's who have adopted an open forum of discussion with their kids, there were gaping holes in his argument and issues to be raised.

In a culture increasingly targeting hormonal teens it is important to note that if I had kids I would be very forth coming with all the options to save their lives from everything from STD's to pregnancies. In fact many of my close friends have spent time with their kids talking about sex and not one of their kids is pregnant or carrying a killer in their veins.

The very fact the GR Press allows such a right wing speaker is further proof that the newspaper is so far out of touch with this region. To continually serve this side is to ignore the true facts of this regions changing landscape.

Case in point, last year a friend of mine hosted what was billed as a "Passion Party" in East Grand Rapids. Think of this as a Tupperware party for sex toys and lotions for motion. At first even I was a bit shocked but what was even more revealing besides the first view of the famed "Rabbit" is the amount of sales this saleswoman is pulling down in this area. She even quit her day job because the demand is so high. Her best sales are coming from the areas outside the Grand Rapids city limits.

So how does one help counter this misconception of our region and how we are being served? We can start by calling the GR Press and demand that they start by becoming increasingly metropolitan, comfortable and willing to have dialogue on topics that really are representative of this region, even talking about sex in a healthy, intelligent and adult manner. Might I suggest we see Savage Love by Dan Savage as part of our line up to counter balance and serve this region. ( I doubt this would happen but everyone has a fantasy or two or four.)

As to Mr. Dobson's assertions on insertion may I counter with an article from the LA Weekly which exposes the mess the CDC has become under W's reign.

They wrote, "These new regs require the censoring of any “content” — including “pamphlets, brochures, fliers, curricula,” “audiovisual materials” and “pictorials (for example, posters and similar educational materials using photographs, slides, drawings or paintings),” as well as “advertising” and Web-based info. They require all such “content” to eliminate anything even vaguely “sexually suggestive” or “obscene” — like teaching how to use a condom correctly by putting it on a dildo, or even a cucumber. And they demand that all such materials include information on the “lack of effectiveness of condom use” in preventing the spread of HIV and other STDs — in other words, the Bush administration wants AIDS fighters to tell people: Condoms don’t work. This demented exigency flies in the face of every competent medical body’s judgment that, in the absence of an HIV-preventing vaccine, the condom is the single most effective tool available to protect someone from getting or spreading the AIDS virus."

So I think it is pretty clear what a Faith Based Initiative can provide to our country's teens. It is not the A, B, C's that are often used by organizations committed to preventing the advance of disease and pregnancies but they rather employ a messed up A, B, D.

Abstinence
Be Faithful
Dunk Head In Sand

Condoms do save teens lives on so many levels that it is worth talking about with them. Knowledge is power!

One last point, why is it that everyone else in their column BOLD the "name/location" of the person asking the question while Dodson has nothing? It makes one consider his journalist integrity in his forum and has this reader wondering if these questions are actually made up to serve his own end.

Further Reading
http://www.laweekly.com/ink/printme.php?eid=54598
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/SavageLove

In Bedded

It has been a loooooong week. Between all the work to be completed before the holiday break there are the festive parties that seems to spring up like weeds in my garden. Do they make Holiday Round Up to squelch these pop-ups?

Seriously, I love this season.

It is the time to travel the many avenues that fat will forge into our diets. Yep, this is the last stop before we arrive at Resolution Station, so eat up.

Every year I make a music video revue of the past year. It started off as a Valentine's gift when funds were running tight in our house and has ballooned into a full blown year end video production. Last year's Year 6 included parts 1-5 as well on one DVD. I was really happy to have been able to make this gift for my closest chums. It provides a nice bookend to the previous year and ensures the weepy eyed host/hostess will open that special bottle of wine one has been eyeing on the wine rack.

This year I am facing the fact that besides a table full of sugar cookies I have yet to decorate, I have not produced anything to give my friends this Christmas. So I have decided to produce a much smaller version of the year end video. My goal is to have it done in one day this year.

But one should not feel too bad or shocked at this news since I have not bought one gift yet this year. So I will pop an extra anti-anxiety pill and just roll with the season while Michael and the dog enjoy a Saturday AM slumber in bed.

Cheers!

Signs of the Times

Anyone who has ventured beyond the city walls will attest all bets are off on what culture is yet to be discovered.

On a recent trip to Holland I was on my way back to the city and felt a much overdue trip to the Zeeland Herman Miller Outlet Store was in order. Anyone who has discovered this gem also more than likely has been the benefactor of the design gods with a great Herman Miller story. (Mine is two black eames chairs for only $200. each. Cool, huh?)

Again the trick is getting through Zeeland with its strange configuration of city streets. No wonder it is still a dry village, although I doubt it was when they laid it out.

So as I wander about the town seeking the HM store I am greated by many signs. But my favorite three are very special and deserve to be singled out. Now I am sure there might be those who will take offense, but I really don't care. These signs got me to turn off my auto pilot as I deviated from my charted course home and performed daring U-turns to snap a pic of what had me laughing at 25 MPH.


One would think that a church of all places would be able to accurately report what the Angel had to say since no doubt there is more than one reference Bible inside these walls. I am quite sure the Angel delivered "Tidings of Great Joy"


I see a whole new round of wristbands in our future.
H C A A B
(He Came As A Babe)
Jesus really was such a cute kid from all the family photos I have seen and I understand the neighbors were not joking when they propped this holiday declaration decoration.


This sign always made me laugh as a kid. For years I would avoid it for obvious reasons...and we all know how that story ended. I am Special.



Ok, so this is not a sign in Zeeland but a sign of the times as original art hangs on the walls of many area galleries this year. If you are seeking a unique gift please be sure to visit a local gallery who could sure use some Christmas cash (or credit card) cheer this year.

Support Local Artists!

To view Tommy Allen's artwork, please visit The Nines Gallery in Holland, Michigan.
http://www.theninesgallery.com/Pages/artistpages/TommyAllenframe.html
The Nines Gallery has the newest round of images from the Lake Michigan Suite.

Flint Art Road Trip, Part 2 - CHRISTmas Town

I am not sure what I have done here but I am quite sure I messed something up on the blog today. But not as messed up as the folks at Frankenmuth's Bronner's Christmas store. Leading up to this holiday store paradise we were continually reminded of the "reason for the season" as CHRISTmas is clearly spelled on every billboard leading up to this mecca of tack.

Jean found a few items that I swear the last time I saw them was at a bachelor party.

It was very cold. Even the Baby Jesus who was actually born in the Middle East had a very pained look upon his countenance and quite frankly looked very out of place in his native garb against the cold snow.

I felt it would be good to warm him up a bit with a stylish Paul Smith scarf. The other wise men who I question their wisdom should have checked the weather channel and brought more appropriate gifts. Mary was so touched that she became speechless. Which was a shame since we were just talking about making tortillas with her face on them. I did lose my wallet after this gesture. I wonder who could have taken it?

And just when we thought all holiday traditions might have been totally marketed out and packed in shiny boxes of lights and bulbs when what to our wondering eyes would appear but a three story tall Santa, my dear.

I guess in Frankenmuth it is a very touching tradition to be at Bronner's and let Santa Claus tea bag your children. And you know what Capra said so many years ago, "Every time Santa tea bags a child an angel gets it's wings ripped off."

So this brings us to the close of the Flint Art Road Trip. If I could have found a way to upload more images here one would have seen the arresting display of Precious Moments figurines, the right to life ornaments (full priced) and the Adopted Baby's Christmas bulb (discounted 75% off) I would have even shown you the blow up reindeer who appeared to be placing his hand in a region that would surely get him kicked off the sleigh team. The rest of the town was just about the same with it's overpriced chicken served by folk in traditional German attire, long endless lines of starry eyed tourists and the local meat market of Kern's Sausages where they invite you to get yours in the rear. We had no more time to spare so we just hit the road.

We laughed and laughed as we took our picture in front of the Kern's sign and shouted to passer's by, "Merry CHRISTmess to all, and to all a good fright."

Flint Art Road Trip, Part 1

I have been accused of being way more serious on this blog than I am in person, so I aim to correct this misconception by posting my photo views of my recent trip to my hometown of Flint.

The goal was simply to get in my car, pack a few friends, don't alert family of my arrival and just drive over to the East Side to see all the things I never have time to view between the baking of the turkey and the emergency therapy sessions with family members.

Sunday's trip was to include a few other folks but due to my last minute decision to visit Flint only my friend Jean Hanks was able to accompany me. No regrets, please.

First up, we toured the many empty storefronts of downtown Flint. One thing that stands out about Flint is the beauty of decay. Something about the rust and boarded storefronts ignites such passionate conversations.

My favorite observation is that as you start off the highway on the main street to downtown you are greeted on the left by the Genessee County Jail. Nothing is more welcoming of urban renewal than a prison on the corner of your city’s main street. What the hell was those city planners thinking when they built this modern structure?

After all this decay I was hungry like the folks who would wander up the streets looking for money. A stop to an old Flint favorite, The Bill Thomas Halo Burger complete with a cow mascot with a halo was definitely in line. As a child this halo meant nothing but now I know that the cow is just a spirit of the cow that used to be. Almost saint like. And don't even think about counting Weight Watcher's points here.

Our last stop was the Flint Institute of Arts. DAMN! This is museum is worth blowing a hole wide open in the sky to visit. FIA is the home to the second largest collection of art in the state. And if you love contemporary art, hell, each and every period is beautifully represented here. The Buick may have come and gone in style but this collection only gets better with time. It makes you wonder what Grand Rapids is thinking when you see what an art spread Flint puts out. (Psssst….The Warhol show is only there until the end of December.)

Ok, I want to write more about this trip but I need to make a break. The Flint Road Trip, Part 2 will include our trip to Frankenmuth - The over the top German CHRISTmas town. (Hometown to Vince Salerno – tell me his life was not hell, an Italian boy in weinerschnitzel town.)

Lastly and Sadly for those folks looking for a souvenir from this downtown Flint trip would have to visit the Wal-Mart on the outskirts of town/farmland to procure this much sought after Made In China gift item.

Syriana

Last night was a good night to head out to the movies. Since much buzz has been generated about Syriana it felt like the best choice.

It turns out that the feeling was correct.

Syriana while laboring along in rapids cuts only gives the audience member a clue to the bigger picture here or there as a handfull puzzle pieces are placed in your lap. (unless you were the idiot who brought a 14 inch pizza and bread sticks to create their own strange version of dinner theater.)

The film is very complicated in the way it is presented but it is meant to do so to remind the viewer of the maze one must truly wander in the international oil race. Contracts are signed, leaders are wrongfully accused and yes, people will die either physically or morally off the radar.

There are wonderful elements of symbolism as well but at the risk of spoiling it, I will allow the viewer to wander down this path of discovery on their own.

Most of all this film will inspire dialogue many hours after the credits have ceased rolling. Even now I find it hard to divorce what I have seen in a fictional story with what appears in the news headlines. Syriana is worth the ride and as John Douglas of The Grand Rapids Press says it should be moved up to the top of your must see film list.

Mangiamo! ( Let's Eat )

Last night was the fundraiser to benefit Grand Rapids' East Hills Council of Neighbors held at the new restaurant Mangiamo! which is Italian for Let’s Eat.

While it is not fair to review a restaurant in its first few days since things are hectic trying to break in a new staff, a few items are worth noting.

Lately service has totally fallen apart in this town. Not here at Mangiamo! From the moment one hits the steps to walk up to the door, a person has opened it and extends a hardy welcome. Next someone helps with your coat and finally after the host scans the reservation list, you are escorted to your table.

My party guests tonight included Artist Michael Pfleghaar, Realtor Vince & Kristin Salerno, Jon Bouck of Tributary Gallery and newly elected city commissioner Rosalynn Bliss.

Our table had a great view of the restaurant’s vast lawn now completely covered in a blanket of snow. As we settled in after being walked through the many tables found in the various rooms, one of my guest was concerned over our hard-to-find table but soon it was clear that this private little enclave would be the table to request for future dinner gatherings.

Throughout the night people like K.C. Caliendo of East Hills sporting her big white napkin tucked firmly in her cleavage would swing by to thank us for supporting her neighborhood. West Michigan green builder Guy Bazzani popped over as well. (FACT: One of Guy's earliest jobs was the remodel of this former residence into a restaurant back in the early 80’s.) Mark Rumsey fresh off his birthday karaoke tour of the westside bars stopped by as well. But alas no singing...yet.

Even former Grand Rapids Mayor John Logie with his artist wife Susie stopped by to say hello. It was nice since he shared an interesting bit of history of this building, which included his family once calling it home. The former restaurant, Gibson's, had a great patty melt sandwich named The Honorable John Logie but sadly it is missing on the new owner's menu. As I ranted a bit about how I will miss it, Susie made a joke about how the city’s medical health centers were rejoicing to see it disappear.

Even the restaurateur Greg Gilmore made stops at every table welcoming each guest and inviting feedback. Like I said I will not review the food since I feel this is not fair as they will be adjusting items during this preview week, but I will offer a few insights on the menu. (Our actual comments are reserved for his staff as we each filled out a comment card reflecting our responses to the many dishes we tasted throughout the night.)

So here are my very thoughts that I feel will not change even after the doors are opened to the public in the coming days.

First, you may order wine by the glass, bottle or a carafe. The carafe is a nice touch I have not experienced on this level outside my trip to Italy. Presented in a very stylish decanter it instantly brought a sense of warmth and charm to the table as we took turns pouring each other a glass. And the house and proprietor choices from red to white and everything in between were very diverse and good for the price. (If memory serves, White Zinfandel the trashy training bra of the wine family is MIA from the wine list.)

Secondly, the attention to fresh ingredients in the appetizers was outstanding. The many dishes served family style in generous portions included tasty offerings of prosciutto, olives, blue crab, artichokes, oven roasted red peppers and lots of fresh bread in various forms. (The homemade loaf actually took me back to my mother's bread she would prepare for our family dinner.)

Lastly, the menu spans a wide range of tastes and not one wet burrito. You may laugh but you would be amazed at this item popping up on more than one local Italian eatery’s menu. So whether you crave a pizza, pasta or a Chicken Marsala, Mangiamo! will be the place to land.

So as our meal came to an end the conversation turned to where to go next. As we made our way towards the coat check we heard the sound of the piano playing in the next room. As I got closer I could see and hear John Logie singing in the newly remodeled room. But there in the corner across from the bar was the piano and a reinvented (and oft seen at Gibson's) pianist. I really really liked how the piano has been given a premiere spot in the former Grapevine lounge. It is very classy and very New York.

But the class almost ended when the former mayor stopped singing and the pianist started the theme from Ice Castle’s. "Please, LET this moment end."

Drawing on all my power as a former drama student I enlisted the help of Mark Rumsey and his Icicle power pop band member wife Joleen and we began to churn out our own versions of popular holiday classics.

I am not sure what we were singing as dawn washes over these keys but burnt into my brain were lines that included Santa using email, drinking in a winter (or winner's) wonderland and finally something about Rudolph being gay. My red nose surely gave me away tonight.

In the end, Mangiamo! is the place to visit during the coming winter months. A place where friends may gather, have a meal and then if the mistress of the keyboards is present, retire to the lounge to sing a note or two.

As you exit the restaurant doors one will be hard pressed not to look back and with a slight grin blow an air kiss to the giant Mona Lisa by di Vinci who smiles eternal in her only special way above the door. Somehow even though her back is turned to the goings on inside, she is well aware of the warm glow of memories bold and bright being created just inside Mangiamo!’s door.

Leadership

This is a strange posting to make on a snow day and especially from an artist. Leadership topics are usually reserved for those Trump/Stewart types who connect the dots, get a book/Television deal and in the process sometimes even leave a body count.

But I believe after living in this town that leadership can happen on all levels and so I will not shy away from using this term.

During the past year I met a person who inspired me again to think about how we can all get involved. Rosalynn Bliss, our newly elected city commission, ran an outstanding campaign in Grand Rapids that not only captured the votes of this city, but the hearts of even more. So much so that a friend recently remarked she went to the polls in East Grand Rapids to vote for Bliss only to be saddened to learn she was not on the ballot. (East Grand Rapids has their own city government separate from Grand Rapids.)

Bliss brought out people I have never seen take one step for a political campaign. Her new generation of leaders fundraiser focused on the next generation of leaders became the political event of the year and the biggest money maker for her campaign. This youthful group that came out are often marginalized and ignored by the political machine. Well, not any more!

And what we all gained in the end was not just the chance to place a very energetic and intelligent person who listens to people, but a person who by getting in the game and leading is inspiring a new generation of leaders. (My good friend Dave is considering a run for a seat on the library board and Kristin expressed an interest last night in seeking a political seat someday.)

Last night was the Uptown Holiday Shopping event and everywhere Bliss went business owners and shoppers greeted her with handshakes saying how happy they were to see her win.

So today I simply want to salute that spirit of community that Bliss has brought to our city. We need leaders, but leadership can happen at any level. It is all about stepping up to the plate.

Now get out there and make snow angels!

(Photo: Tommy dressed as a fairy granting a wish for Bliss who is standing to my right - Halloween 2005, Tributary Gallery on Division)

Further reading...Rosalynn Bliss will have a profile piece on her in the Sunday, December 11 Grand Rapids Press.

The Dreamer Begins....

Beginnings are hard. We never really know when they truly start. Most times it is the endings we clearly can see in history. But once in a while a beginning is crystal clear.

Often have I sat at this glowing screen pushing a key here or there to eventually form thoughts that no one will ever see.

Today as the TV played in the background I went about my morning routine of downing massive cups of coffee, wandering through a spam minefield to retrieve my email and finally settling a hundred arguments in my head on why I should get out of bed to start the day.

But there it was lingering in the air, the quick news blip that today is the 25th anniversary of John Lennon’s death (cut to commercial). Like a slap to the face on a near zero degree winter’s day, my face swelled like an ocean as I started to cry.

Music can span the mountains of time and today I am hurled back to sitting at my school desk as my friend Bunny Sexton (really, it is her name) enters the room crying. Since I was at a conservative Christian school, weeping for sinners was usually reserved for those who were burning in hell because they did not cling to the cross. In our school we were not allowed to listen to Lennon or any other singer who did not adhere to the faith of our fathers.

But Bunny did listen to John Lennon and her grief was real just like Lennon’s music. I, too, secretly would hide my 45’s at a neighbor’s house, race out of church to hear the finally moments of the American Top 40 countdown broadcast and sometimes even stay up late with my face pressed to the TV speaker so I could hear a favorite singer. This act of contortion would keep my secret special and not alert the wrath of my parents who were sleeping in the next room. (I think my eyes took a beating from watching TV from this angle.)

Starting Over was just breaking the charts and it seemed like a golden era was about to be reborn. Bunny, Naomi and I all cried as the rest of the class looked on in disbelief over our mourning. And for the first time, I stood speechless as those around me condemned his music and always with a Bible verse to back up their speech.

So today I stumble to my computer and think, “Today is a beginning -the day I begin to wipe the tears from my eyes and share more than what graces the pages of area papers or the loud drunken conversations often overheard in this little town.”

Lennon plays over and over again in my head and now on my iPod. The words to Imagine no longer sound like a pop song but has become a powerful prayer of peace for the world and very much like the powerful sermon on the mount that so many have seemed to forget.

Imagine is a prayer that all faiths can rally around. If we are ever to survive we have to rethink all we know, retrace our steps and in doing so we may find we end up in places or rooms we never imagined.

I stand dressed now ready to enter the world as an adult but in my heart I am still holding tight to my fellow classmates who believed the dreamer. Beginnings happen all the time, we just have to welcome the clarity of the dawning moment. Hold it tight to your heart. Begin.

“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I am not the only one.” – John Lennon

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