Archive for September, 2012

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Kansas City’s Symphonic Opener 2012-13

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 30, 2012 by David McInerny

Helzberg Hall was buzzing with opening-weekend energy, and everyone, including the mayor of Kansas City, was in their seats early in anticipation of the music and acoustics of the amazing new Kauffman Center for Performing Arts. Music Director and Conductor, Michael Stern, fairly bounced onto the stage to announce the music for the evening, and suddenly we were on our way.

Composer-in-residence Adam Schoenberg’s relatively new piece, “Finding Rothko,” named for an exhibit of paintings in the MOMA in New York, was quite possibly the best classical work I’ve heard that has been composed in this young century. It’s melodic, powerful and somehow, at a mere sixteen minutes long, transcendent. This piece is not yet on iTunes, but when it becomes available I highly recommend it. The program liner notes say that Schoenberg is currently writing a new orchestration of “Pictures at an Exhibition.”

Vadim Gluzman was the guest violinist for Tchaikovsky’s “Concert in D Major, OP 35.” Gluzman played flawlessly and tirelessly, and without any apparent difficulty, as a joyful smile never left his face. Nor was he put off by the eruption of applause after only the second movement by the large throng of new subscribers who are learning to save their appreciation until the end of each piece – Gluzman simply stepped forward with his smile still firmly in place and raised a hand to quiet the audience. Mention must also be made of the exquisite oboe work of Kenneth Lawrence, and it was good to see him recognized by Michael Stern afterward. A standing ovation greeted Gluzman (at the appropriate time), and he played a Russian folk song as an encore.

Admittedly, prior to last night I was only familiar with Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s 1971 re-working of Modest Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition,” but the excitement by much of the audience after intermission had me wondering what to expect. Ravel’s orchestration is the standard, and from the moment the hall filled with the opening arrangement, it was clear that this was a work conductor’s like conducting, musician’s like playing, and audiences like tapping their knees to. It’s a complex piece, at times nearly bombastic, but it’s creative and playful, and surely requires repeated listenings to grasp all that is there. The finale, though, “The Gates of Kiev,” is so rich and testosterone-driven that it’s a shame to have to remain seated to hear it. Both the orchestra and the audience were so energized after the piece that Stern inserted Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Dance of the Tumblers” as a warm-down encore before everyone was invited into the atrium for a glass of champagne.

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French Onion Soup

Posted in Food with tags , , on September 29, 2012 by David McInerny

The only trick to great French onion soup is to cook the onions properly. Think in terms of one onion per person – really! Roughly chop equal amounts of two kinds on onions: Vidalia, white, yellow – whatever is handy or available (or cheapest) in the produce section. Melt a quarter stick of butter in a large sauce pan, and then add a few tablespoons of olive oil. Add the onions with the heat on medium-high. The amount of onions will seem unwieldy at first, but you’ll be surprised how much they shrink as the water in them cooks off.

The key, as the onions soften and shrink, is to keep stirring them occasionally, and continue to cook them until the sugars caramelize. Brown bits will begin to accumulate on the bottom of the pan – stir them back in until the onions are turning brown and sticky. This entire cooking process with take a good 20-30 minutes, depending on how many onions you are cooking.

Add a quarter cup of white wine, marsala, or good cooking sherry to deglaze the pan. When the alcohol is absorbed, sprinkle a heaping tablespoon of flour on the onions to add body, and then add a can of beef stock for every two onions and simmer for about 10 minutes. Drizzle a teaspoon of worcestershire sauce into the soup, stir in and turn off the heat.

Place small bowls onto a cookie sheet, ladle soup into each, and place a thick slice of French bread on top of each bowl of soup. Sprinkle grated mozzarella cheese liberally into each piece of bread, and broil the cookie sheet of soup bowls in the broiler until the cheese melts and begins to brown. Serve immediately.

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The Rolling Stones’ Final Concert

Posted in Music, Travel with tags , , , , on September 27, 2012 by David McInerny

I had a day off from work late in June in 2007, and I was listening to the Rolling Stones on my iPod, thinking about the great concerts my wife and I had seen in Chicago and Wichita during the band’s most recent Bigger Bang tour. It was great having a new Stones album, and the boys were energized to be back on the road. And the music was great! Mick had insisted that the band practice a large array of songs so that they could mix up set lists throughout the long tour, and it made the shows a lot more fun, and the band was playing very tight as a result.

Against explicit instructions from my wife, I found myself looking at the remaining tour dates, only to find that the Stones had wrapped up North America and were making their way back to England for a final three-night stand in London. It struck me that this might be the last time that the Rolling Stones would tour – I mean, they couldn’t do this forever. My eye kept moving back to that final show on August 26th, and I wondered how much flights might cost to London…

It was a beautiful Saturday in England when we landed, and we were checked into our suburban hotel by early afternoon. In an effort to shake off the jet lag, we decided to walk around and look for lunch. We had a day to attempt a ridiculous whirlwind tour of London Town, see the Stones the following day, and fly back to the States on Monday morning. We stepped into a nice restaurant, saw the menu, and walked directly back out to the street, stunned by the prices for a plate of food and a beer. Quickly switching gears, we stepped into a low-key pub and still blew the lunch and dinner budgets on two sandwiches and two pints. No wonder the Stones fled England in 1972 to record the Exile on Mean Street album.

I can say that we saw Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and the Tower of London, and we have the pictures to prove it. But we laughed at the speed we whipped through town, knowing we would never recommend this method of touring a new city to anybody. I’m pleased to say that we walked everywhere, so we were able to connect the sites in relation to each other in the city. My great regret though, which I’m determined to correct one day, came when we walked up to Shakespeare’s Globe Theater, and I realized that there were afternoon matinees we could have attended. The Globe was sold out that day, but I’m sure I could have purchased tickets when I bought the Stones tickets the month prior. To be able to say we saw a Shakespeare play and the Rolling Stones in London on the same day…

The concert was at the then-new O2 arena, and Mick was energized like it was the last show he would ever do – and it may have been. Keith, before the encore, promised the crowd he would be back, but it was clear he didn’t necessarily mean with the Stones. The band’s families came out on stage as the lights went up, and the standing ovation lasted over ten minutes. Rumors abound currently that the band has begun practicing for one more tour, but nothing is confirmed. If it becomes a reality, I’ll be there, but if the Stones finally pack it in, I’m so very glad I saw their final concert on August 26, 2007.

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P.G. Wodehouse – The Golf Omnibus

Posted in Books with tags , , , , , , , , on September 26, 2012 by David McInerny

On the eve of the Ryder Cup, the emerging chaos of which I’ve just flown out of in Chicago, I’d like to recommend some between-match reading – The Golf Omnibus, by P.G. Wodehouse (pronounced woodhouse). Wodehouse was an uncommon talent in creating hysterical stories between a score of brilliantly conceived recurring characters, all set within – as my father described it – a late Victorian era that never really existed. Crumbling manors kept standing by the iron will of stately, if not somewhat dusty, elephantine dowagers, trembling servants, and scheming match-makers roam the pages from Wodehouse’s fertile, comic brain. The epitome of his creations are, of course, Bertie Wooster and his man-servant Jeeves, headliners in a series of books as well as the acclaimed PBS series featuring Stephen Fry as Jeeves, the gentleman’s gentleman, and Hugh Laurie as Bertie Wooster (and, yes, more recently as House, M.D.).

However, for quick and clever belly laughs, Wodehouse’s golf stories are unequaled. Often set in the fictitious golf club at Wood Hills, under the watchful eye and wagging tongue of the Oldest Member, the witless are hooked, romances get shanked, and outrageous plots are driven straight into the rough. A fading, Victorian sense of propriety governs the proceedings, making the unlikely story lines even more uproarious. The shining example of Wodehouse’s brilliance on the links is The Clicking of Cuthbert, essential reading for anyone that has harbored illusions of golf greatness, or suffered the crime of unrequited love. Meaning all of us.

All these stories are collected in The Golf Omnibus, a timeless tome that would also make a great stocking stuffer for the aspiring golfer in your life. While you’re at it, order the complete Jeeves videos as well. The Wodehouse estate will thank you.

“I was never much of a golfer. Except for that glorious day at Aiken I was always one of the dregs, the sort of man whose tee shots, designed to go due north, invariably went nor-nor-east or in a westerly direction. But how I loved the game.”

– –  P.G. Wodehouse (aged 92), in the preface of The Golf Omnibus

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Booking in St. Charles

Posted in Books, Travel with tags , , , , on September 26, 2012 by David McInerny

The Fox Valley in Illinois has a cluster of charming villages, exemplified by the historic triumvirate of Batavia, Geneva, and St. Charles. I was in search of a decent cup of coffee when I turned a corner in downtown St. Charles and found not only the coffee, but attached to the cafe was also a small independent book store. An over-caffienated bookworm’s dream.

Book shops such as these invariably take on the character of the owner, and Town House Books and Cafe, on 2nd and Cedar streets, is no exception. The offerings were heavily weighted toward local history, travel, and outdoor activities. Among a few new volumes of travel writing, I picked up Paul Shullery’s 1996 story of fly-fishing obsession in England, Shupton’s Fancy (1st ed). It’s a short read, and perfect for my upcoming fishing trip to read in the tent before the lamp goes out at night.

Looking into the cafe, I was tempted to take an early lunch and flip through the new purchases, but I realized that I would be the only male in the room. Clearly, I would be interrupting a local women’s book club, so I decided to look for another spot to eat further along the Fox River, but the Town House coffee was great.

http://www.townhousebooks.com

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Chicken Pot Pie

Posted in Food with tags , , on September 25, 2012 by David McInerny

You know how I am regarding inclusions for soup, stews, pizza toppings, and what-have-you … it’s infinitely easier and more satisfying to empty out the fridge and pantry than to head to the store to remain enslaved to a recipe. At least one weekend evening per week, my dinner is determined more by what’s on hand than a search through recipes, though I wouldn’t recommend this as a modus operandi for everyone.

Such thinking, nonetheless, beget pot pie last weekend. A cursory peek into the vegetable crisper revealed a lonely acorn squash, two final potatoes, and half bag of carrots. When I discovered a couple chicken thighs in the freezer and, glory be, a frozen pie crust from a box of two left over from who-knows-what previous effort, the die were cast. Chicken pot pie for two.

Grill the chicken until done – grilling provides appealing color to the meat and sears off more fat. When done, leave on a clean plate to cool. Cut the acorn squash in half and bake in a 350 degree oven while the chicken cooks and then rests, remove the squash when the chicken is cool and ready to cut (leaving the oven on), and when cool, core the squash from the green skin with a spoon or melon tool. While the squash cools, peel and roughly cube the potatoes and cut up the carrots, and boil slowly for 30 minutes in a pot with a can of condensed cream of mushroom soup and a small can of chicken stock. Cut up the chicken and add to the stew with the squash and reduce the heat to low.

Roll out the thawed pie crust, and place a soup bowl upside-down on the crust. Cut the crust dough around the bowl, about a half inch wider than the edge of the bowl. Cut a second crust the same way. Fill the bowls with the stew, and lay the pie crusts over the top of each, pinching the edges against the rim of the bowl and scoring with a fork along the edge for appeal. Poke the dough a few times with a fork for venting. Bake in the 350 oven until the crusts are golden brown.

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The Flaming Lips – Dark Side of the Moon

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , , , , on September 23, 2012 by David McInerny

Attempting to play a legendary band’s entire epic album was something of taboo in days past, but Dark Star Orchestra’s treatment of the Grateful Dead’s most famous live shows, and Phish’s rendition of Quadrophenia showed that it could be done. Nonetheless, tripping over the eclectic Oklahoman’s – The Flaming Lips – tackling Dark Side of the Moon gave me pause, and prompted several complete listens over the past few weeks as well.

It’s a serious success. In macro terms I would describe it this way: I’m a huge Pink Floyd fan, going back to the Syd Barrett days of the late ’60’s up through and including the post-Waters work of the mid – ’80’s. I still love pulling out Meddle, Saucerful of Secrets, Animals, The Final Cut, you name it, but … I rarely play Dark Side these days. It’s not that I don’t adore it; it’s just that it was so overplayed in my youth, and continues to be a rock staple with my sons, that I rarely feel the need to listen to it again. TFL’s version (2010) has awoken me to the genius of the music again. I haven’t been this excited about Dark Side since I first heard it on 8-track being driven to high school by my sister and her future (and present) husband.

The Lips are faithful to the songs as well as the mood, including the between-song bits of “wisdom” that were written and read by Pink Floyd’s crew and employees of Abbey Road Studio on the original album (“I’m mad, I’ve always been mad…). Wayne Coyne’s vocals are sympathetic to both David Gilmour’s smooth lead as well as Roger Water’s haunting voice, but the guitar playing and treatments are modern, eschewing the slick production of Gilmour’s style and implementing an edgy urgency that is all Flaming Lips. There is a lovely dark-chocolate chunk of a bass line that opens “Breathe” and runs all through “side one,” coaxing the listener, somehow sacrilegiously, to get up and move.

Coyne also slips in a sonic salute to a few other more obscure Pink Floyd songs along the way, including “Careful with that Axe, Eugene,” “Alan’s Psychedelic Breakfast,” and “Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict.” I’ll let you find them (hint – use headphones, but why wouldn’t you with Dark Side of the Moon?). I’m impressed with this disc, and when I read recently that the band is now toying with early King Crimson music well, stay posted.

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Christmas in Israel, 1977

Posted in Family, Travel with tags , , , , , , on September 22, 2012 by David McInerny

Upon landing at Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv, I encountered airport security for the first time armed with automatic rifles, a sure sign we were in the ever-volatile Middle East. While on Christmas break during my high school junior year at Notre Dame International in Rome Italy, my dad decided he would take mom, my brother and sister and me to Bethlehem for Christmas Mass. I was picked out of the line of arrivals in the customs area for an additional security check. I followed a serious but pretty military woman behind a screen where, without a word, she patted me down thoroughly and sent me on my way. I forgot to ask for her name, but it was a memory that stuck with me the entire trip (who am I kidding – for the last thirty-five years).

The hotel room my brother and I shared had a radio, rare for a hotel back in Europe, even now. We played with the dial and found an AM station that played Western music, with heavy rotation for a new hit from Ambrosia, “How Much I Feel,” a song which stuck with me the rest of the year (the band corresponded regarding lyrics with Kurt Vonnegut for a time, which I always thought was cool). We didn’t spend much time in the hotel, however, as it was required to travel with a tour for security purposes, and the tour guide kept us moving.

Buses carried our group every morning around the Holy Land, to the Wailing Wall, Lazarus’ tomb, to a kibbutz, to the Sea of Galilee, to Bethany where Martha, the mother of John the Baptist, asked why Mary, the mother of her Lord should come to visit her, and where Mary responded with the Magnificat (“My soul doth magnify the Lord…”). We saw the Dead Sea, and looked into the caves where the Dead Sea scrolls were discovered, and where I began a fascination with the Essenes, the Jewish sect that left Jerusalem to live in the desert and hid their religious writings in the caves there. There is no way to describe walking in the footsteps of Christ’s passion on the Mount of Olives, along the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem, and seeing where He was scourged, where He was raised on the cross, and where He ascended into Heaven.

On Christmas Eve night we were driven to Bethlehem to join an endlessly long line of other tours waiting to enter the church for Mass. I don’t recall that we ever made it into the church, such were the crowds, but I suspect that our efforts allowed the obligation to attend Mass to be fulfilled. It was a furiously fast trip, but while I was aware that I was already experiencing a special year studying in Italy, I knew that spending time in the Holy Land during Christmas was truly the trip of a lifetime. Thanks, Dad.

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Making Amends to the Bard

Posted in Books with tags , , , , , on September 21, 2012 by David McInerny

When a man realizes that there are only so many days left in his life to make happen the hopes and dreams for which there was so much time in his salad days, it’s time to look honestly inside himself, admit his shortcomings, and make amends. So you can imagine my chagrin, not to mention embarrassment, when I made a list of the Shakespeare plays I still needed to read and was forced to come to grips with the fact that I’ve only read 12 of the 41 recognized plays (assuming you agree with the recent addition of Double Falsehood into the oeuvre, which I do). Only twelve plays? I haven’t read Othello? On the bright side, there are still 29 Shakespeare plays yet to discover and enjoy, and I’m tackling the “histories,” starting with Richard III.

I recommend the paperback versions of the plays from the Folger library. Each play has an introduction that puts the drama in context of Shakespeare’s life and work, describes the importance of the play, and notes famous lines that have become entrenched into the English vernacular. Most useful are the running explanations and “translations” of bits of arcane English which allow the reader to keep the narrative flow.

After reading Julius Caesar in high school, I gave Shakespeare scant attention until, while killing an afternoon in Los Angeles’ Huntington Library before an evening flight to Asia, I saw a First Folio for the first time – the first edition of Shakespeare’s collected works, published in 1623. Only a little over 200 copies are still known to exist. (A great new book by Eric Rasmussen, The Shakespeare Thefts, tells the stories of how some of these copies have made their way, legitimately and otherwise, through galleries, book collections and attics around the globe.) The Huntington visit spurred me to pick up the plays and read, and the comedies have been my favorite. Clearly, I need to pick up the pace.

My dream is to own a quarto, one of the early publications of the plays that were printed on paper folded twice (into fourths, giving the format its name) before printing. It’s likely to remain a dream, as even these volumes, created originally as affordable copies of the plays, run into the stratosphere at auction today. Nonetheless, there’s room for a quarto of Love’s Labour’s Lost on my book shelf, the play that features one of my favorite Shakespearean characters, Berowne.

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Disney World

Posted in Family, Travel with tags , , on September 20, 2012 by David McInerny

Walt Disney’s dream that was realized out of the swampland of central Florida is the world juggernaut of amusement parks. Yet, it is so much more than a park, but is also an experience where those who have allowed their inner child to run free there can never seem to get enough. It’s easy to wince at the commercialism, and even easier to gasp at the cost, but it must be said that the place delivers value for the buck, and it caters to every age. For those that ask me how I can take my family there year after year (and it’s a valid question!), my standard but sincere answer is that it is the only place I know where I can take my family and relinquish the responsibility of keeping everyone happy with no effort on my part. That is a vacation.

As with all parents, we started pushing our kids around the Magic Kingdom in strollers, keeping them well napped and cool to reduce meltdowns to a minimum. That is the key, of course, to avoid trying to do too much, realizing that it can’t all be seen on one trip, and enjoying whatever the park brings vis a vis lack of long lines and the short attention span of children.

Sleeping on the Disney property is essential to maintaining the experience going twenty-four hours a day. We’ve found that the value resorts are too crowded, and the luxury resorts essentially only offer swanky lobbies and proximity to one of the parks. The moderately priced resorts offer the same rooms as the luxury properties, with more room and privacy than the value properties. They are immaculately clean, with stunning landscaping, and free transportation to any part of Disney World.

On our most recent trip this year, with all three kids now of college age, the hot spots were EPCOT’s World Showcase for more sophisticated attractions, premium restaurants, and beer. Pleasure Island offers live music and upscale shopping. We typically end our day there now with dinner and a cigar for the guys, souvenir shopping for the girls. Even now though, we’re not bashful about maintaining our practice of enjoying an afternoon nap!

Each year when we leave now, I wonder if that will be our last trip to Disney World, but when I ask the kids each Spring if they still feel the magic, the answer is still a resounding YES.

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