Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Duma Key

It's not easy being one of Stephen King's "constant readers", as he refers to his die-hard fans. You tell yourself that you're an intellectual and that you have a well-rounded interest in the literary world, but when you bring King up to one of your friends, you're always met with the gently condescending line about him being "the guy who writes those scary stories." And of course, they are correct, Stephen King is the modern-day "master of horror" and you'd be hard-pressed to find anything scarier than "The Shining", "It", or "Salem's Lot." But there is so much more to Stephen King than that.

King has dabbled in fantasy ("The Talisman", "The Dark Tower" series), science fiction ("Firestarter", "The Dead Zone"), prison dramas ("Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption", "The Green Mile"), coming of age dramas ("The Body", "Hearts in Atlantis"), and one very great apocalyptic epic ("The Stand"). He has published novels under a pseudonym (Richard Bachman), and he has given us collections of short stories and novellas that have often been extraordinary. Along the way, he has given us some of the most memorable, absorbing and captivating prose that I have ever experienced.

He hasn't always been great, or even good. For far too long, he was obsessed with writing stories about writers, and for every "Misery" and "Dark Half", there were his share of duds. The last fifteen or so years have produced more duds than classics, with forgettable titles like "Cell", "Gerald's Game", "Dolores Claiborne", and "Rose Madder". For me, I know it's a bad Stephen King book when I only read it one time. Whether the cause was aging, or the trauma of the car accident which almost killed him, it was pretty obvious to me that King had reached his peak in the early 80's. The exception to that rule was the last three books of "The Dark Tower" series, which were, for the most part, excellent, although the act of writing himself into the saga and making himself a somewhat important supporting character was pretty stupid, and just didn't work. Other than that, however, the last 15 years have been pretty disappointing.

That, however, has not stopped me from buying and reading every new book King has produced. As any "constant reader" will admit, I am totally hooked. So, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw "Duma Key" staring at me in a Target store a couple of weeks ago. I hadn't heard anything about it, and of course, I bought it right on the spot.

It's easy for me to tell right off the bat if it's a good King or a bad King. A good King will grab me right from the start, and I will be unable to put it down. A bad King becomes a chore, and although I will always finish the book, it becomes more an act of obligation (see the aforementioned "Cell", for an example). I'm happy to report that "Duma Key" grabbed me right from the very first chapter. In fact, the new book has all the elements of classic King: strong characters, an interesting premise, and a story that goes in unpredictable directions. And, oh yes, it also has some extremely scary moments. It takes a lot for me to get scared by a book these days, but "Duma Key" had me actually jumping a few times.

"Duma Key" is the name of one of the smaller and lesser-known Florida keys (at least in the book it is), and it becomes the refuge for the main character after he suffers a terrible accident, which causes him first to lose his right arm, and then his marriage. He ends up renting a home on Duma Key, where he suddenly discovers that he has somehow developed a masterful talent for art, first by sketching and then by painting. Sounds a little dull? Trust me, it is anything but that, and I have no intention of divulging anything more of this wonderful plot. The joy is in the discovery itself.

I won't say that "Duma Key" belongs with the holy trinity of King classics, "The Stand" (my personal favorite), "The Shining", "It", "The Talisman", "Christine", "The Mist", etc. It's too soon for that, and yes, I will have to read it again. I have no problem saying, however, that it is clearly one of the best King novels in a long time and an extremely enjoyable read. I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good story, whether you are a "constant reader" or not.

Wow, Stephen King's best book in maybe the last 15 years and Springsteen's best album in at least 25. Not bad at all.

Friday, February 22, 2008

The End of an Era?

When Lute Olson arrived in Tucson, Arizona, at the end of the 1982-83 college basketball season, he was inheriting a program that had hit rock bottom. In that 82-83 season, the only season for head coach Ben Lindsay, the Wildcats won only four games and only one game in Pac-10 Conference play. They were the worst team in the conference by far. I remember going to a game that year at McKale Center, the opponent was either Oregon or Oregon State, the Wildcats were trounced early, and there couldn't have been more than a thousand fans in an arena that seats almost fifteen thousand. It was so quiet you could hear the players grunt. It was depressing.

I didn't know much about Olson, except that he had built a consistent winner at Iowa. I doubted whether he would be able to do much in Tucson. The UA was basically a football school, and Larry Smith was building a program that was going to consistently go to a non-major bowl game and beat arch-rival ASU almost every year in the 80's.

And then a funny thing happened. Olson recruited an average player that no one else wanted named Steve Kerr, and he convinced local high school phenom Sean Elliott to stay home, instead of accepting a scholarship at Kansas or North Carolina, or any of the other powers that wanted him. The Wildcats posted a winning record in Olson's second season as head coach and made the NCAA Tournament. They won their first Pac 10 Conference championship in Elliott's freshman season. In the 87-88 season, Kerr's senior season, the Wildcats spent a good portion of the season ranked number one in the country (for the first time in school history) and made it all the way to the Final Four. Many fans in Tucson still feel that was Olson's greatest team.

Ah yes, the Tucson fans. They simply fell in love with Olson and his teams. They were talented, the program was clean and bereft of trouble-makers, and they won. Oh, how they won. And the ghost town that had been McKale Center was soon sold out to season ticket holders, year after year. The waiting list for tickets was daunting. Lute Olson became the most beloved celebrity in town, and he and his wife were treated like royalty.

The season after that first Final Four season ended in disappointment. The Wildcats were a number one seed in the NCAA Tournament that year, and they were upset in the Sweet 16 by a young, talented UNLV team that would win the National Championship a year later. The morning paper the next day ran a photo of senior and favorite local product Sean Elliott crying on his mother's shoulder in the hallway right after the devestating loss. It wasn't his fault his team lost, Sean almost single-handedly carried the Cats that night. It was the first upset loss Lute would suffer in the tournament, but it was not to be his last.

Every year, Lute would re-load his team with star players, and every year they won 20 or more games and made it to the Big Dance. The early 90's were marked by devestating, first round upsets to teams like Middle Tennessee State and Santa Clara (although to be fair, Santa Clara did have some guy named Steve Nash leading them). The Cats soon became labeled as tournament chokers, that is, everywhere except in Tucson. Meanwhile, future NBA stars such as Brian Williams, Chris Mills, and Damon Stoudemire came and went. In 1994, the Wildcats went to their second Final Four, as Stoudemire and his talented supporting cast tasted victory in the tournament for the first time. But they were beaten in the Final Four by eventual champion Arkansas (with Bill Clinton rooting for them in the stands) and the following year, Stoudemire's senior season, they were once again upset in the first round.

For the 96-97 season, Olson convinced Phoenix high school superstar Mike Bibby to bring his immense talent 120 miles south to Tucson, where he would join talented players like Miles Simon and Michael Dickerson to form a potent line-up. The regular season was a disappointment, however, as the Cats finished the final weekend with losses to UCLA and USC for a fifth place conference finish. The Wildcats limped into the tournament that year licking their wounds and under the radar. No one gave them a chance. They came from behind with six minutes left in the first round game to pull out a victory over South Alabama. They came from behind in the second game as well, this time beating College of Charleston. The Sweet Sixteen game pitted them against mighty Kansas, the number one seed and top ranked team in the nation. Once again, no one gave the team from Tucson a chance. But the Wildcats believed in themselves, Lute Olson threw a bunch of towels on the court in practice, and asked his team if they were just going to throw in the towel, or give it their best. The fired-up Wildcats pulled off the upset of the tournament, and beat Kansas. In the next game, they had to go to overtime to beat Providence, and the Cats were once more going to the Final Four. Again, no one gave them a chance against mighty North Carolina and Kentucky. In the semifinal game against North Carolina, the Tar Heels (with Vince Carter) exploded to an early thirteen point lead, but Arizona dominated from that point on, and easily won. For the first time, Olson's Wildcats made it to a final game. Their opponent was Rick Pitino's Kentucky Wildcats, the reigning champions. The game was classic and epic, with the lead swinging back and forth, and eventually went to overtime. In the overtime, the Cats missed every one of their field goals. They did, however, score ten points on free throws, and that was enough to win the game, and the national championship. Lute Olson and the Wildcats had once and for all thrown off the label of tournament chokers, and the championship was the very first basketball championship in the school's history. The city (and much of the state---yes, even Phoenix) went wild. The next day, there was a victory parade and a celebration in the football stadium. 60,000 people (including me) were there to celebrate the amazing victory. That championship remains the greatest sports moment in Tucson history.

The ecstasy would prove to be short-lived. The team was upset by Utah in the round of eight the next year, and life got back to normal. The 2000-01 team proved to be loaded with future superstars, like Gilbert Arenas, Luke Walton, Loren Woods, and Richard Jefferson. Injuries and personal tragedy would plague the team. Lute's beloved wife, Bobbi, the "mom" of every Wildcat team, passed away on New Year's Day. Lute took a six-game leave of absence, and the team floundered. When Lute came back, the team re-grouped and rallied to win another championship for their coach in honor of Bobbi. The team would get all the way to the final game, where they were beaten barely by a very talented Duke team. Still, it was the fourth time Lute would lead a Wildcat team to the Final Four.

The seasons after that would always end in disappointment. The teams were loaded with talent, would win 20-plus games in the regular season, make the Big Dance, only to lose early. Lute ended up re-marrying in 2005 and was elected to the Basketball Hall of Fame. Despite the consistency of every team, there was definitely something lacking.

Which brings us to this year. This year's team is talented, with probable future NBA stars such as Jerryd Bayless and Chase Budinger. But just before the season began, Lute inexplicably took an indefinite leave of absence. It soon came out that Lute and his wife, Christine, were having serious marital problems. Assistant coach Kevin O'Neill took over, and Lute will not return this season. In his absence, his team has floundered. There have been flashes of brilliance, with several wins over top 10 teams, and a couple of near misses against Kansas and Stanford. But there have also been losses, far too many of them. They have been swept by hated rival ASU for the first time in 15 years. To date, they have won 16 games, but are only 6-7 in conference play. There are five regular season games left, and the Cats probably have to win three of them to get to 19 wins, a .500 conference record, and a berth in the Tournament. At stake is a streak of consecutive tournament appearances that now numbers 23, the second longest such streak in NCAA history. Winning three of the remaining five games won't be easy, not the least of which since the team has lost four of the last five. The Cats have games remaining at UCLA and Washington State, and have little or no chance of upsetting those teams on the road. That leaves games against USC (at USC) and the two Oregon teams at home. It's a daunting task. Even if they do manage to win those three games, the Cats are still very much a bubble team. The Cats could also make it in if they suck it up and win the Pac-10 Tournament, but they would probably have to beat UCLA, probably Stanford, and maybe ASU. It doesn't look good.

If the Wildcats don't make it into this year's NCAA Tournament, the world won't end. The people of Tucson won't commit hari kari, and life will go on. Every streak must end at some point, it's inevitable. There will be a basketball season sometime when the Wildcats will not qualify for the Big Dance. I just hope it does not end up being this season.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Picking up the pieces

I never planned on having to start all over again at the age of 49, but that is exactly what has happened to me. As I stated in my introductory post, I used to have a different blog. I wrote about things like sports, movies, music and politics. I also wrote about my job, which proved to be a mistake. I won't get into what I do for a living, but suffice it to say I wrote about a very real situation at work which needed to remain confidential. I named names, and wrote about things that were not public knowledge. The consequences were devestating.

I was placed on administrative leave the day before Thanksgiving, 2006. The terms were particularly uncomfortable, I had to phone or email my immediate supervisor every morning between 8 and 8:30. And then, for the rest of the day, except for an hour and a half at lunchtime, I had to stay in my home. In essence, I was under house arrest. Oh, I could have left the house after my obligatory morning contact, but if I was caught not at home if they checked on me, I would be fired, and at that point in time, I definitely did not want that to happen.

So I accepted the terms, and I waited for them to make a decision. The holidays came and went with no decision and no timetable. It was brutal and demeaning. The truly ironic thing about the situation was that the U.S. Congress passed the anti-Internet gaming legislation, and I no longer had the ability to play poker on the Internet for money. Think about it, I had all the time in the world, nowhere to go, and I couldn't do the one thing that would give me pleasure, play poker online. Every day was just like the next, and I was slowly going out of my mind. Of course, I took it out on my wife, who was a saint for standing by me through it all.

Then, in mid-January, my father had a combination stroke and heart attack. My supervisor gave me permission to spend time at the hospital with my parents. The one positive to this entire excruciating time was that I was able to be there for my parents. Then came Monday, January 22, 2007. My supervisor and his supervisor came down to see me, and they gave me the news: I was fired. For the first time in my life, at the age of almost 49, I was fired from a job. I was in shock. Three days later, my family and I had to make the difficult decision of putting my father into hospice. He died three weeks later, on February 17th.

I was devestated. I had lost all my self-confidence. I was angry, moody and most of all, scared out of my wits. The funeral seemed like it was happening to someone else, everything seemed surreal and dreamy. I was lost. I felt like running away and never being heard from again. I felt like a total failure.

A week after my Dad's funeral, a job offer came up. It was in Phoenix, AZ, about 125 miles from my home. To quote "The Godfather", it was an offer I couldn't refuse. It meant moving, it meant up-rooting my family, and for the next three months, it meant living alone in an apartment with my family two hours away.

It seemed like the perfect antidote. A new job in a new city, a fresh start. And it slowly turned into my worst nightmare. It was, by far, the most difficult, stressful job I've ever had. The expectations were enormous and the workload impossible. There was a tremendous amount of traveling involved, for the seven months I worked there, I drove more than 24 thousand miles. The stress kept me awake at nights.

My family moved to Phoenix with me on Memorial Day weekend. The move was devestating for them. My stepson was 15 at the time, and we moved him away from his friends, his high school, and his freshman football team. My stepdaughter was 12, and she was only slightly less miserable than my stepson. If you've never been in Phoenix in the summertime, you can only imagine the unbearableness (is that a word?) of it. And when you're depressed and unhappy anyway, well, it can be absolutely miserable.

Financially, we were in big trouble. We couldn't sell our old home, although we were able to rent it out for part of what we were paying on it. My wife had trouble getting a good full-time job, and the stress of not being able to pay our bills was added to the stress I was feeling from this horrendous job situation. As each day went by, I was feeling more and more hopeless and desperate. I was ready to take the ultimate step and run away, or even worse, kill myself.

Things came to a head when I made plans to meet my mother at my father's grave on a Sunday in September. When I got to the grave, I completely fell apart and cried like a baby. I told my father I was sorry that I had let him down, and that I would make him proud of me again. And then I heard his voice. He said one thing only. He said: I've always been proud of you. And that was it.

I drove back to Phoenix and things began to change. I got a new job offer, and took it gratefully. The next day, my wife got a new full time job, and things began to get better. Slowly, my depression lifted, a little more each day. We began to adjust to our new home, and the summer finally ended. I felt like I was starting to live again. My mother gives the credit to my father, and says that he is my guardian angel and responsible for everything that happened after I went to his grave that day. Maybe so. All I know is that that moment was the turning point.

So here I am, about to turn 50 in April. I've started a new job which I like on some days, can tolerate on others, and don't hate on most of them. I like Phoenix, it seems to offer a lot more to me than where we used to live. My wife and kids are starting to feel more at home. And I feel like I am actually living again.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Pure Magic

I first became a fan of Bruce Springsteen's back in 1975. About six weeks after he simultaneously appeared on the covers of Time and Newsweek, Bruce and the E Street Band played at my college in upstate New York. It was a night that changed my life. Bruce's music spoke to me in a way that music never had before, and his live performance electrified me.

I saw Bruce and the band again in 1978 on the Darkness on the Edge of Town tour, and twice more on The River tour. The River was a bit of a disappointment as Bruce edged toward commercial viability. I've always thought it would have made a great single album, but there was too much mediocre, commercial filler to fill it out as a double album. The live shows, however, were still as dynamic as ever. Then came Born in the USA, which I have never liked. Seemingly written for commercial success, the album was of course, a blockbuster hit, fueled by the video of "Dancing in the Dark", with Courteny Cox being dragged onstage to dance with Bruce. It was beyond lame. In between, Bruce released a solo album, Nebraska, which was dark and moody. While I found it to be an improvement over Born in the USA, it still lacked something, in my opinion.

The next E Street Band album, Tunnel of Love, was a major disappointment. I didn't even bother seeing a show on that tour, and soon after the tour, Bruce broke up the band. I was devestated. His subsequent output in the 90's, solo albums like Human Touch, Lucky Town, and The Ghost of Tom Joad, were awful. Bruce Springsteen had ceased being relevant.

And then, in 2002, seemingly coming out of nowhere, came The Rising. Bruce had already re-united with the E Street Band in 1999 (and had done sort of a greatest hits tour), and once more wrote and performed with passion and urgency. Most of the songs were a reaction to the horrific events of 9/11, and songs such as "Into the Fire", "Empty Sky" and "You're Missing" were heartbreakingly powerful. My personal passion was re-ignited, and I saw three shows on the tour.

Bruce's next two albums were somewhat disappointing. Devils and Dust, a morose solo output of mediocre songs, was something I listened to a few times when it came out, and have not picked up since. His next was even worse. Titled "We Shall Overcome", it was an over-blown, over-produced, bloated attempt to re-do standard American folk songs, like "John Henry" and "Erie Canal". I hated it, and once again, avoided the subsequent tour. Constructing a monstrocity called the Seeger Sessions Band for the tour, Bruce broke up the E Street Band, and this time it looked like it was for good.

Instead, once again, Bruce has surprised me. In the fall of 2007, Bruce released Magic with the E Street Band, with a major tour to follow. From the very first time I listened to Magic, I felt an excitement that I hadn't felt in a long time. I listened to it again and again, and made sure to catch one of the live shows on the first leg of the tour, in Los Angeles at the old Sports Arena. In my opinion, it's the best thing Bruce has done since Darkness on the Edge of Town.

The album once again displays the political and social commentary that has comprised so much of Bruce's later work, performed with an intensity and vibrance by an obviously re-invigorated E Street Band. "Gypsy Biker" is a brilliant, biting rock song about a soldier coming back home from Iraq. With an infectious beat and searing guitar, it is one of the best songs Bruce has done in many years. "Living in the Future" is Bruce's biting attack on the America that has emerged in the wake of the George W presidency. "Long Walk Home" is a tight, driving song with a tuneful lyric and a solid performance. "Girls in their Summer Clothes" is a throwback to some of Bruce's best songs from The River, a joyous, fun and nostalgiac "summertime" tune that can't help but put a smile on my face every time I hear it. And, of course, it all starts with "Radio Nowhere", one of the best, pure rockers Bruce has ever done.

The concert was, quite simply, fantastic. Coming in at a solid two hours and twenty minutes (unlike the four hour marathons of the mid-80's), the E Street Band is tighter and better than it ever was. The Magic songs sound even better live than on the album, and the old nuggets that Bruce played that night ("She's the One", "Night", and a phenomenal "Kitty's Back) were flawless. It was the second-best concert I've ever seen, trailing only that very first time I saw Bruce and the band at my college in 1975.

The only disappointment is that, for the first time ever, Bruce is not including Arizona on this tour. Phoenix has always been a supportive town for Bruce, going back to the old days of the first two albums, when Bruce was very much a regional act. He always played Phoenix, and I've seen him on three different tours in three different venues. But not this time.

Instead, I had to go out to L.A. last October to see him. And this year, my wife and I will drive out to Anaheim to see him again, the night before my birthday, as a birthday present to both of us. I'm counting the days.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Is Obama electable?

Barack Obama clearly appears to be on the rise, while Hillary Clinton, who fired her campaign manager over the weekend, seems to be panicking. I like Obama, I like what he says, and I agree with his vision. He doesn't have a whole lot of practical experience, but some very great Presidents (Lincoln, Truman) have not had a lot of experience. Maybe I'm jumping the gun here, but it's beginning to look more and more to me like he will be the Democratic nominee for President.

So the question becomes, is he electable? Or to put it bluntly, can a black man with a Muslim name win the U.S. presidency in 2008? I'd like to think he could, after all, haven't we come a long way since the civil rights battles of the 60's? Aren't there prominent African-Americans in sports, politics, entertainment, education, the judiciary, etc?

Certainly that seems to be the case. And I believe that there are certain sections of the country that are ready to vote for Obama. On the other hand, there seems to me to be a great many other sections of the country that will vote for whomever is running against Obama merely because of his race. Racism is alive and well in this country, and it takes many forms. How many people do you know who have no problem with working with people of other races, yet never socialize with them or attempt to get to know them? How many people live in neighborhoods where people of color are not welcome, either tacitly or implicitly? If you're white, how would you feel if one of your children came home with a boyfriend/girlfriend who was black? The mere fact that these issues even exist today demonstrates that we are far from the race-neutral country that we aspire to be.

Barack Obama's race should not matter at all. We should be far removed from anything as detestable as that. But we are not. The fact that Barack is a black man will matter to a great many voters in November. And, shamefully, I believe that is why he can not win the Presidency.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

My favorite sports teams

I'm originally from New York. My favorite sports teams were all located on Long Island while I was growing up there, the Mets, Jets and Islanders. I'm also a casual fan of the New York Giants, and I loved watching them stomp all over the arrogant, hated Patriots last week. That was sweet.

Having lived in Arizona for the past 26 years, I'm also a fan of the Diamondbacks, the Phoenix Suns and the Arizona Cardinals. I also root for the University of Arizona football and basketball teams. I'll be talking about all these teams, and more, in the future.

It's actually a pretty good time for my teams. I've already talked about the Giants. That had to be one of the best Super Bowls ever, if not the best. The play where Eli Manning escaped being sacked, and then passed to David Tyree, who made one of the most amazing catches ever, will be talked about for years. I honestly didn't think the Giants could win until that play. It was amazing.

The Mets recently made an outstanding trade for Johan Santana, one of the best pitchers in the game. If Pedro Martinez regains his form of two years ago, and John Maine and Oliver Perez continue the progress they displayed a year ago, the starting staff should be pretty solid. Carlos Beltran, David Wright, and Jose Reyes are three of the brightest young stars in the National League, and they form a pretty solid core, although the rest of the lineup is peppered with question marks. The bullpen is a huge question mark. I'm excited about the Mets, but cautious. This team still needs some help to overcome the Phillies and move on in the playoffs.

The Diamondbacks might be the best team in the National League. With Brandon Webb and newly acquired Dan Haren, they probably have the best one two punch of any starting staff in the league. The lineup is filled with young players of enormous potential, like Orlando Hudson, Stephen Drew, Justin Upton and Chris Young. Remember, this team finished with the most wins of any team in the National League last year, and they are only going to get better. I can't wait for the season to start.

Then there's the Phoenix Suns. Like most of the sports world, I am scratching my head over the recent trade of Shaquille O'Neal to the Valley of the Sun. I mean, five years ago, it would have been dynamite. But unless Shaq can prove that he is not over the hill, too fat and too slow, it will prove to be a disaster. I'm cautiously optimistic, but will wait to see what happens. The window of opportunity with Steve Nash is closing fast. If the Suns don't win it all this year or next, it will be time to seriously rebuild.

Finally, there's the Arizona Wildcats basketball team. They actually look pretty good lately, although I think they miss Lute Olson. The Pac 10 is brutally tough this year, and I wouldn't be surprised if six teams from the conference make it to the tournament. Hopefully, the Cats will be one of them.

Welcome

Welcome to my new blog. It's good to be here. I used to blog under a different blog name, but I got into some trouble and had to delete the blog. Those of you who know me know the reason why, and for those who don't, you're better off not knowing. It was pretty ugly, and it cost me my job and forced me to re-locate. Not fun.

Anyway, I always enjoyed blogging and I've missed it. I feel I have something to say about the things I love, like music, movies, sports and poker. I also have some pretty strong opinions about things like politics and current events, so I'll be talking about those, too.

Welcome to my blog. I hope you enjoy it.