Of Mice and Me, Both Skewered at the David Sedaris Reading at Mercyhurst College, 10-22-11

During my last semester of college, I was introduced to the work of David Sedaris in a Creative Non-Fiction class. While it was a writing course, we read several books in order to give us an idea of the different memoir styles out there and integrate techniques employed by the writers into our own work. Of all the writers I encountered in college for the first time, Sedaris is one of my favorites. While some of his essays get pretty off-color, there’s just something so irresistible about his pointed observations about the absurdities of how people interact with each other. Much of what he says rings very true to my ordinary experience, while some of his more outlandish stories make me wonder how he ever survived his 20s. He’s a riveting storyteller.

However, my experience of Sedaris is almost entirely limited to the page. I’m not much for audiobooks and I’ve rarely caught him on National Public Radio, where he often reads essays, but those who have listened to him more than read him have insisted that his work is far more entertaining when he reads it himself. Thus, when my brother Nathan told me that Sedaris would be giving a reading at Mercyhurst College, it didn’t take a lot of persuading to convince me to go too. Also attending were his girlfriend Morgan and my mom, whose exposure to Sedaris was very limited. I wasn’t sure what she would make of him, but while some of his discussion topics made her squirm a bit, she mostly found him very funny and astute.

We bought our tickets in late August, and by the time of the reading on October 22, the theatre, which accommodates several hundred, was sold out. It got started a bit late, allowing time for stragglers to make their way in from the lobby, and lasted just over an hour and a half, with Sedaris reading four full-length stories, followed by excerpts from his diary. He also took a little time out for questions from the audience at the end.

His first selection was The Squirrel and the Chipmunk, the story from which the cover illustration of his latest book is taken. This collection of animal fables is a departure for him, as he mostly writes of his own experiences. However, the tales here certainly have applicability to people, and that’s especially true of this story, which deals with prejudice, peer pressure and fear of the unknown getting in the way of a relationship. It’s a bittersweet story, yet it is not simply a case of a perfect relationship being ruined by disapproving relatives. It also demonstrates how much better things tend to look in hindsight, especially when they have been, to some extent, forcibly taken away.

The longest and most riotous of the stories was the second, Easy, Tiger, a New Yorker piece in which Sedaris discusses the oddities of the Pimsleur language instruction tapes that he has used to help him navigate other countries. In it, he shares several actual conversations used on these tapes, commenting on the uselessness of some of the banter and what the differences in dialogue between languages reveals about the countries in which they are spoken. For this, he played us samples of actual Pimsleur tapes and also demonstrated his skills in Japanese, Italian and German. The impact of his expressive voice, whose timbre is remarkably like that of John Fiedler, who played Piglet for about four decades in various Disney projects, is amplified by his impeccable comic timing. While this essay was mostly funny, it also posed some interesting questions about how and why we learn foreign languages and whether, as more and more people around the world learn English, Americans will cease to bother trying to bridge the communication gap themselves.

Atta Boy, which comments on today’s tendency toward over-indulgent parenting as compared with the brutal but effective tactics employed by his father and, to a lesser extent, mother, resonated strongly with many in the audience. Looking around, I could see a lot of people nodding in agreement with his disgust over the parents who threaten to sic the police on a man who lays a hand on their son to apprehend him after catching him at spray-painting a mailbox. His description of his own parents is howlingly funny, particularly his aggressive dad who hoards after-work snacks, threatens to pummel neighborhood smart-alecks and removes his pants during dinner – and, when the doorbell interrupts the meal, insists on answering the door himself. I think a lot of people felt pretty grateful for their families after hearing this essay.

The final essay focused on Sedaris’s experiences with various doctors, including one whose response to medical issues is too lackadaisical for his liking and another who subjects him to bizarre travel shows on mute while he is poking around in his mouth. This was the essay that inspired my brother, who recently graduated from college with a Fine Arts degree, to draw a mouse on a skewer for him as a gift in exchange for his autograph. It was as funny as the others, and we got to hear him speak French, but I was glad when it was over because all that medical talk was getting rather icky.

The diary entries were taken from the last two years and mostly commented on individuals who struck him as unusual or related jokes that people had told him at readings. These were invariably crude, as was a quip about a quiz show that most of the audience didn’t get, and it kind of worries me that I did. The funniest bit was probably his baffled description of the Occupy Wall Street protesters he encountered in the organic hipster wonderland of Burlington, Vermont. Most of these were very short, sometimes only a couple of sentences, and it was fun to get these quick laughs after the much longer stories.

The question and answer period wasn’t all that illuminating, especially since one of the questions was incomprehensible, but his recollection of the crummy Bangor, Maine motel where he stayed during this tour was hilarious. On the more serious side, he encouraged everyone to go out into the lobby and buy a copy of Peter Kessler’s River Town, a piece of immersion journalism about life among Chinese schoolchildren that particularly impressed Sedaris.

After the reading, the audience had three options: leave, head for the book table or line up for the signing. I’d brought a book, so I got in the signing line, though it took me a while to get there, especially since we bumped into a friend on the way out of the theater, and as a result, Mom and I wound up near the back of the line, which barely seemed to move at all in the first half hour. Nathan and Morgan opted to lounge around the lobby, where they had a good view of the signing table where Sedaris was engaging each person who came up to him in conversation. After more than an hour of waiting, Mom got Nathan to take her place in line while she found a bench, and I gave him the pen and notepad for him to draw his skewered mouse while we waited. As we drew closer, we caught snatches of his conversation with other attendees. I especially liked his request to the 13-year-old pianist ahead of us to, after his concert the next day, “Go out and do something autumnal. Rake some leaves, do something with an apple… I don’t know. Just go outside and be autumnal!”

When we finally made it to the table, I presented my book, the copy of Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk that Nathan had bought me for Christmas, and I mentioned that I had bought it for Nathan as well and that we’d snapped a picture of us holding up our identical books. He made a comment about the dangers of that happening in a family at Christmas and how he and his sister had bought each other the same CD or DVD on occasion. He signed the book “To Erin with friendly friendship” and handed it back… and then he noticed my “purse.” “I’m sorry, is that your purse?” he asked. I replied that it had started out as a camera bag and I ended up just carrying it around everywhere. It’s a clunky red and black thing, not ladylike in any sense of the word but certainly utilitarian. “I just have to say,” he persisted, “that is the most ungainly handbag I have ever seen. I mean, if there was a contest for ugly purses, that would take first prize!”

Well, what can I say? I’ve never claimed to fashion-conscious. I just sort of smiled and shrugged, and he shook his head and laughed, and then he noticed the button on the side. He asked what it said, and I explained that I’d picked it up in Salem, Massachussetts – the trip, incidentally, which made me decide to switch from raggedy ten-year-old purse to hardy compact camera bag – and that it read, “Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.” Of course, he informed me that the dragon button just made the ensemble all that much worse, and then he fixed his eye on my green VeggieTales bracelet and asked if that was to go with the button, and I told him that it was a bracelet tied in with the kids’ video series VeggieTales. At this point, he was looking at me a bit like I was some sort of intergalactic visitor, and he laughed again and said, “You are absolutely adorable.”

Nathan should have gone first because I’d already introduced him as my brother, so the signature he got in his copy of Holidays on Ice was “Think Celine,” who Sedaris informed him is a designer of upscale handbags whose work he insisted Nathan track down so he could get me a less mortifying purse for Christmas. However, he seemed delighted with Nathan’s detailed doodle – “Oh! It’s a mouse on a skewer! Well, look at that!” – and then the two of them spent a few minutes discussing their favorite artists, so I think that Nathan probably managed to demonstrate that his visual tastes are a little more refined than his sister’s. We each selected a twisted postcard to tote home with us; I was hoping to snag the one cheerily chirping, “Let’s explore diabetes with owls!” but that was gone by the time I got there, so I had to satisfy myself with the Pekingese skull.

It was closing in on midnight by the time we left, so it was a full evening, and not only did I have the pleasure of listening to him share his keen insights with that wonderful delivery, I think I also got a taste for what it must feel like to be an inadequate American Idol contestant in front of Simon Cowell. Or Ugly Betty. But hey, at least I’m adorable!

Orla Fallon Brings Her Irish Magic to Erie, PA, 10-4-11

Yesterday, Irish musician Orla Fallon, formerly of Celtic Woman, came to Erie to give a concert at Mercyhurst College. Before the main event that evening, she went to the headquarters of WQLN, our local PBS affiliate, to record a mini-concert in the lobby to promote the show. While I couldn’t make it to the full-blown concert, my dad, grandma and I attended this free show. It was the first event of this kind that any of us had attended, which makes me wonder why we never went to anything like it before. I suppose it just wasn’t on our radar.

There wasn’t much room in the lobby, so a crowd of maybe 50 or so sat in neat rows and munched on complimentary popcorn while we waited for the guest of honor to arrive. She was a few minutes late, so WQLN personality Tom New, who hosted the concert, kept us entertained with some goofy banter that he continued with later as he interviewed her. The whole thing had a very casual feel to it. Most of the people in attendance were retirees, in large part, I imagine, because it was 2 in the afternoon. The crowd was quiet but appreciative, especially once Orla and her fiddler, an enthusiastic young Oregon native named Amberly Rosen, took their places.

Orla probably did more talking than singing, not that anyone minded; her lilting voice has a wonderfully musical quality to it, and she has a natural gift for storytelling. A former schoolteacher, she discussed her appearance at an assembly at Northwest Pennsylvania Collegiate Academy, a local high school, earlier in the day, and her delight in addressing those students was evident. She described her tiny hometown and her eventual decision to pursue music full-time, and she and Amberly both talked about how the fiddler came to join her touring group last Christmas.

She also gave some background on the songs that she sang. As she built up her first song as a perpetual crowd favorite, I suspected what it would be. However, I had never heard that it was composed on a bus ride, an aspect she said adds to its magical quality because it arrived as a gift. I also loved her introduction to the second song, a ballad about a mermaid who is tricked into forgetting the sea by a fisherman who is in love with her. What made this especially neat was that while she was describing the mermaid’s renewed longing for the ocean after she remembers her history, she pointed to my grandma, who was wearing a sweatshirt featuring a picture of a seaside lighthouse.

Orla Fallon is an accomplished harpist, and she played the elegant instrument on all four songs. It was not the largest harp I have ever seen, but its size was still impressive, and it was mesmerizing to watch an expert play it from such a short distance away. We sat in the second row, so we had an excellent view. There was no stage, just a couple of microphone stands on the flat floor. However, the harp rested upon a small pedestal. Her fingers gently plucked the strings on each of the songs, and the harp and fiddle together created a deeply satisfying sound.

The mermaid song was in Gaelic, and it was followed by a purely instrumental tune. As far as I can recall, I’d never heard either of these before. However, Isle of Innishfree, her opening song, has been one of my favorites since I first heard Joe Millar sing it at my first Irish Rovers concert nearly two decades ago. It’s really the song that introduced me to the flourishing tradition of Irish songs about longing for one’s homeland. The gorgeous melody and the poignant lyrics have always had a deep effect on me; only Ryan Kelly’s The Village That They Call the Moy can compete in terms of emotional resonance. Orla’s clear, delicate voice is an exceptional instrument for this song, particularly since, as a musician who spends much of the year on the road in other countries, she can no doubt relate to the feeling of homesickness.

The notion of separation runs deep in Irish music and is part of not only Innishfree but also the mermaid song and the final selection, a benediction of sorts called The Parting Glass. We just became familiar with that song this year thanks to the High Kings, a traditional Irish group rather like Celtic Woman in that it is primarily a PBS-based group. The song’s lyrics have a ring of permanence about them; its reflection on a full life seems to be that of someone not long for this world. However, it also makes a fitting finale for a concert, particularly since many of those in the audience will only see her live once. This song was especially lovely because Amberly provided back-up harmonies, and her voice blends beautifully with Orla’s.

I wish that we would have been able to go to the full concert, but I’m glad that we made it to the PBS show, which had a deeply intimate feel to it. Both women came across as very sweet and personable and were more than happy to talk to those who cared to stick around for a few minutes. Celtic Woman certainly lost an outstanding member when Orla Fallon decided to branch out on her own, but her PBS set aptly demonstrated her ability to carry a concert as a solo artist.

Kick Off the Summer with the Breezy That Thing You Do! Soundtrack

When I think of great summery bands, the Beach Boys tend to come to mind first, but not far behind them are the Wonders, the fictional quartet at the heart of the bubbly Tom Hanks film That Thing You Do! It’s not just the Wonders, actually; just about every song in that movie evokes a breezy, innocent feeling of sun-dappled days when even Erie, PA, my notoriously snowy hometown, is as bright and cheery as the California coastline. Because the Wonders are based in Erie, I can’t help feeling a surge of civic pride whenever I think of the movie, and when I hear the songs on its soundtrack, I make like Guy Patterson, the film’s central character, and start drumming on any object within my reach. That Thing You Do! inspires that kind of exuberance, and I have a feeling I’ll be listening to it a lot this summer.

Lovin’ You Lots and Lots - Performed by a phony group billed as the Norm Wooster Singers, this bouncy not-quite-two-minutes-long ditty was penned by Hanks himself. I’m especially fond of it in the movie because it accompanies the montage that introduces downtown Erie of the 1960s, but it’s a lot of fun on its own and sounds very much like an authentic song of the era. Hanks wanted to create a song that reflected the bubblegum flavor of so many early 60s hits, and from the string of cheesy metaphors and the repetitive chorus to the whistling and the innocuous instrumental accompaniment, I would say he succeeded. “You are the stars in the nighttime sky.  You are my girl, and I'm your guy.  You got me all tied up in knots, and I’m lovin’ you lots and lots, I’m just lovin’ you lots and lots, I’m lovin’ you lots and lots…”

That Thing You Do - This Adam Schlesinger-penned tune is the title song, the one that rockets the Wonders from Erie obscurity to nationwide fame as they hurtle their way to the West Coast on a tour of State Fairs. In the movie, we hear it in its original form, and it’s morose and whiny, but with the tempo dramatically sped up, it becomes an irresistible dance number. The phenomenon of depressing lyrics with a catchy beat is widespread throughout early pop-rock, so this song fits right in. The percussion makes all the difference here, and the voices scrambling to keep up with the beat can’t help catching the energy. Infectious rhymes, a snappy melody and just a twinge of lovelorn angst make this a surefire hit. “You doin’ that thing you do, breakin’ my heart into a million pieces like you always do. And you don’t mean to be cruel. You never even knew about the heartache I’ve been goin’ through…”

Little Wild One - Another very teeny-bopperish tune, this one written by David Gibbs, Steve Hurley, Phil Hurley and Fred Elringham. It’s a little funny to hear this immediately after That Thing You Do! Here, he seems to be doing the same thing that he’s accusing his girlfriend of in the previous song, and there’s certainly nothing remorseful in his tone. He just assumes that she will welcome him back with open arms when he gets tired of straying. Another song with a strong percussive base and some nice harmonies, and while the members of the Wonders are well past high school, it definitely captures the flavor of teenage melodrama. “With them, I feel like I’m wastin’ my time, while you make me feel like I’m losin’ my mind. Little wild one…”

Dance With Me Tonight - Written by Scott Rogness and Rick Elias, this song amuses me because Music and Lyrics, another fun film that pays peppy tribute to a musical era with instant retro classics, also has a song by this title. They sound completely different, of course, as that movie’s focus is the 1980s, but it makes me smile. The Wonders version is reminiscent of Twist and Shout and other songs in that vein. Pure innocuous get-your-feet-moving fun. “Tell your mama that you’re leavin’. Tell your daddy that we’re gone. Tell everyone in Philadelphia there’s a party goin’ on.”

All My Only Dreams - This mellow Wonders song, also by Rogness and Elias, is more of a solo showcase than a group effort, with the minimal harmonizing restricted mostly to the title line. The plaintive tone is just a shade shy of maudlin; this is a guy who cannot be with the woman he loves. While the precise reasons are unclear, great distances seem to separate them, judging by the imagery that reminds me of James Horner’s Somewhere Out There, the touching duet from An American Tail. A nice slow dance kind of song. “So every night I pray I’ll have you here one day. I’ll count the stars tonight and hope with all my might. And when I close my eyes, you’ll be right by my side.”

I Need You (That Thing You Do) - This mid-tempo Wonders song, written by Rogness and Elias with Linda Elias, plays over the credits and makes a nice sort of bookend to the main song. Again, there’s a bit of a pleading tone, though I’m not sure if we’re supposed to think it’s the same relationship being discussed. Either way, a nice track. “I could search around the world, only to find the only thing I need is you, right by my side.”

She Knows It - This electric-tinged song comes courtesy of The Heardsmen, the band formed by lead singer-songwriter Jimmy after the Wonders break up. I’m not sure when the song is supposed to have been released, but it sounds a bit more recent than the rest, perhaps late 1960s. Another one written by Rogness and Elias, it doesn’t appear in the movie. Enjoyable but not all that memorable. “It’s true, it might take a little while; I’ll be the one that makes her smile.”

Mr. Downtown - Sung by the invented Freddy Frederickson, a singer who is supposed to be past his prime at the time the Wonders are embarking upon their tour, this song was written by Hanks, Gary Goetzman and Mike Piccirillo. This brass-heavy song has a smarmy lounge quality to it and almost sounds like it could be the theme of a corny 50s spy show. Quite different from anything else on the soundtrack. “Under the waning moon is danger to be found for the man with the badge in the night, the man with the badge in the night. What's his name? Mr. Downtown…”

Hold My Hand, Hold My Heart - The Chantrillenes, a Supremes-like group who mingle with the Wonders during their tour, provide the only group song on the album featuring only female vocalists. This one is also written by Hanks, Goetzman and Piccirillo, and it’s my favorite of the non-Wonders songs, partly because whenever I hear it I picture the unnamed bass player, the quietest member of the Wonders, standing off to the side mimicking the ladies’ goofy hand motions. While the mental image the title line produces is a tad macabre, I find this peppy song charming. “I want you to say you’re thinkin’ of me those nights when we’re apart. I want you to know when you hold my hand, you hold my heart.”

Voyage Around the Moon - This song by the fictional band The Saturn 5 – the name of which is one of many homages in the movie to the space program, with which Hanks, fresh off of Apollo 13, was deeply preoccupied at the time – is a purely instrumental track. Written by Hanks, Goetzman and Piccirillo, it sounds to me like a cross between beach music and a James Bond theme song.

My World Is Over - Piccirillo has solo writer’s credit on my least favorite track on the album. Diane Dane, like Freddy Frederickson, is a lounge singer type teetering on obsolescence, and she has no qualms about hitting on young singers like Jimmy who are half her age. Simultaneously sultry and sulky, this brass-drenched torch song is repetitive and snoozy. Like the other songs on the album, it absolutely feels like it could have been a hit during its day, but my era is the 60s, and her style just isn’t my cup of tea. “Your love is gone, so for me, my world is over…”

Drive Faster - This is a curious song because it’s by the Vicksburgs, a band that only gets a passing mention a couple of times in the movie. Written by Rogness and Elias, it captures the fascination with fast cars that permeates so many summery songs of the 60s. Musically, the guitar-heavy song makes me think of Johnny B. Goode, while the subject matter reminds me of several Beach Boys songs. A bit of an oddity, but fun. “And let's drive drive drive til we get enough. We're gonna ride ride ride ‘til the sun comes up. Gotta feel that wind blowin' in her hair, and she's mine when I drive faster…”

Shrimp Shack - Written by Piccirillo, this song features the Wonders as Cap’n Geech and the Shrimp Shack Shooters, a ridiculous band in a cheesy Frankie and Annette-style beach movie. Pure frothy instrumental fun with percussion, keyboard and brass, it’s a get-up-and-toss-a-beach-ball-around kind of song that sounds almost as silly as it looks.

Time to Blow - Steve Tyrell and Robert F. Mann share writing credits on this jazzy piano and drums number attributed to Del Paxton, Guy’s personal hero. It’s the longest song on the album by more than a minute, which is rather funny since it’s so far removed from its predominant style. Still, it’s a nice nod to the way that musicians from different genres inspire each other. I’m not that much of a jazz aficionado, but it’s a pleasant song to listen to.

That Thing You Do! (live) - Time for the title song again, this time the version that the Wonders perform on The Hollywood Television Showcase, basically a fictionalized version of The Ed Sullivan Show that’s located in Los Angeles instead of New York. Pretty similar to the first version, but with lots of screeching from the crowds and an overall sense that everyone is overwhelmed by exuberance. The ideal way to end the album. “I know all the games you play, and I’m gonna find a way to let you know that you’ll be mine someday. ‘Cause we could be happy, can’t you see, if you’d only let me be the one to hold you and keep you here with me…”

Yes, this is an album consisting entirely of music from bands and singers who never existed. Yes, if these had been actual hits, it would have been 40-some years ago, not today. Yes, virtually every track is a sappy love song with an extra squirt of cheese. Does any of that bother me? Nope. That Thing You Do! is a perfect album to get my summer off to a chipper start, and the fact that I’m from the same city as the Wonders is just icing on the cake. Tom Hanks, I offer you my hearty thanks.

The Bob-Whites Get a Real Vacation in The Mystery on Cobbett's Island

“The loneliest place on Earth.” That’s how the first keeper of the Presque Isle Lighthouse in my hometown of Erie, PA, described his post, and in The Mystery on Cobbett’s Island, the thirteenth book in the Trixie Belden series, teen sleuth Trixie postulates that the keeper of the lighthouse there would feel the same way. “You know you’d get bored stiff after the first week without your friends,” she tells her friend Diana, who romanticizes the position. But solitude is one thing Trixie needn’t fear during her sojourn on Cobbett’s Island, a quiet fishing village that reminds me of Passamaquoddy, the quaint town that serves as the setting for Pete’s Dragon.

That’s because she has not only Diana but her older brothers, verbose Mart and responsible Brian, and her neighbors, demure Honey Wheeler and resourceful Jim Frayne, to share her vacation. In fact, the trip comes courtesy of Honey’s parents, who have rented a summer house on Cobbett’s Island. Six of the seven Bob-Whites, the club that also includes former gang member Dan Mangan, will have ten days to relax, soaking up the sun and surf in what even Trixie hopes will be a true vacation, free from any preoccupying mysteries.

“Well, I think my girl deserves a vacation, and the boys too,” Mr. Belden says warmly when he finds out about the invitation, since apparently we are not supposed to think of Trixie having just returned from a vacation in New York, and a vacation in the Ozarks before that. At any rate, despite the fun of those trips, the stress level was high throughout. What the Bob-Whites need is a chance to simply kick back and enjoy themselves. And despite stumbling upon yet another mystery – and missing one of their members – this feels like about the most laid-back vacation the Bob-Whites could ask for.

The mood in this book is just so carefree. Mart and Brian swap quips with a wit and frequency unseen since they first showed up in The Gatehouse Mystery, and banter in general is at a high level. I found myself laughing out loud several times per chapter. I smiled, too, at the twitterpation that emerged in this idyllic oasis. Jim and Trixie, already thick as thieves, are practically inseparable – and the new bathing suit Trixie uncharacteristically needs causes quite a stir. Diana takes turns batting her eyes at Mart and local boy Peter, who becomes a fast friend to the sextet - and appears to have his eye on Trixie. And my favorite couple, Brian and Honey, whose mutual regard has been understated and rarely hinted at in previous volumes, seem to spend half the book flirting with each other.

The teens swim together; they learn the basics of sailing and experience the rush of racing; they gorge on a clambake feast and listen in rapt wonder as a salty sea dog spills his tales of the open water. The mystery this time feels more like a treasure hunt, with pieces of the puzzle leading them gradually to a thrilling prize; a ruffian skulks about but rarely comes into contact with the friends, and when he does, he’s one of the least intimidating villains to plague the Bob-Whites yet. Even getting stranded while boating and having to wait for rescue from the Coast Guard feels more like an exciting adventure than a fearful experience. The ever-industrious Bob-Whites take over for a wounded groundskeeper, help repair a battered gazebo and serve guests at a tea party, but even when they’re hard at work, it’s clear that they’re having the time of their lives.

Little is known about the individuals who wrote the last 33 volumes in the Trixie Belden series under the name Kathryn Kenny, but whoever penned this tale obviously knew her stuff. The book just bubbles over with exuberance and affection. I get the sense that, free from any truly pressing concerns or responsibilities, they are able to be more themselves than ever before. The characterization feels spot-on, and the dialogue particularly sparkles.

It’s a shame that Dan is excluded yet again; I can’t help feeling like a lot of writers didn’t really know what to do with him so they just wrote him out of the story. But Peter is a great new character, as is his kind-hearted mother; the grateful groundskeeper Elmer, upon whom Brian has a chance to demonstrate his medical expertise; competitive sailor Cap; grizzled Captain Clark; and bubbly baker Ethel, among others. Additionally, readers are likely to pick up a bit of nautical knowledge as they wind their way through this story, and maybe another random factoid or two as well. For instance, did you know that “Blitzen” is German for “Lightning”? I didn’t!

I also didn’t know just how untroubled a Trixie trip could be until this book. Every one of the Bob-Whites’ outings has sounded like a blast, but The Mystery on Cobbett’s Island seems just a notch above the rest. In fact, in the words of Honey, who’s rarely wrong about these sorts of things… I would say it’s perfectly perfect.

Don't Let Skipper Dan Get You Down; Jungle Cruise Is Terrific!

A couple years ago, Weird Al Yankovic released a song entitled Skipper Dan about a disenchanted actor who believed he was on the path to theatrical greatness but took a wrong turn somewhere and wound up stuck as the skipper of a jungle cruise amusement park attraction. “I’m laughin’ at my own jokes, but I’m crying inside, ‘cause I’m workin’ on the jungle cruise ride,” he moans. It’s my favorite song on Al’s Internet Leaks EP, an endearingly melancholy little number, and the fact that this guy is an actor just makes his melodrama a little more understandable. He probably has an inflated sense of his talent, and in any case, he’s exaggerating his misfortune. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to be in his shoes. But I get it. He hasn’t won a plum role on Broadway, I haven’t written a hit song or the Great American Novel. I can relate.

I thought about Skipper Dan when I went to Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom on my recent trip to Florida because the first ride I went on in the park was the Jungle Cruise. It was also the last ride I went on. We had two very different guides each time we rode, and our first one seemed very much like a female version of Skipper Dan. I couldn’t tell if it was an act and she was going for deadpan humor, or if she hadn’t quite woken up yet, or if she was a sad shell of an aspiring starlet who felt she’d been condemned to a purgatory of cheesy puns on endless repeat. As much as everyone wants to visit Disney World, I would think that working there would be an absolute dream for most people. But maybe not… “Stay in school, kids,” both guides warned us as the ride wrapped up. How inspiring.

While I really couldn’t tell if our first guide was enjoying herself or not, our second skipper, an older guy who at first glance seemed a little crotchety, really seemed to be getting a kick out of his shtick once we got going. That made the second time around even more fun than the first even though we saw most of the jokes coming this time – or maybe partly because of it. Our first guide played it very detached, almost as though she were a recording, while the second was more interactive, and it made for a livelier experience. Both times, we scarcely had to wait to get on a boat, though I got the impression that lines were much longer around midday.

The Jungle Cruise is a very relaxing, enjoyable ride that’s just right to ease you into or out of a long day of ride-hopping. It has a retro feel to it, with all sorts of charming animatronics, most of which have a humorous edge to them. You’ve got elephants spraying water out of their trunks, a rhino getting uncomfortably close to an explorer’s posterior, a band of gorillas trashing a base camp… There’s not much danger of mistaking these creations for flesh-and-blood safari creatures, but the likenesses are still strong, and it’s fun to imagine that one of them might venture toward the boat at any moment. Additionally, because the boat moves so slowly, it’s easy to snap pictures while you’re out on the water, so go ahead and get your camera out.

When I was in high school, I volunteered at the Erie Zoo every October during ZooBoo, the nighttime Halloween event. My favorite of the many volunteer jobs was serving as the narrator for the train ride, which took visitors through the creepily decorated Safariland, which had a different theme each year. The one consistent thing about the spiel was that it was extremely corny, and after almost every ride, somebody would holler to me as he got off the train, “Hey, you could use a new script!” But I loved it, and I never got tired of making those punny wisecracks. Hence, riding the Jungle Cruise had a pleasantly familiar feel to it. Almost like coming home.

So Skipper Dan might not appreciate his job much, but it sure doesn’t seem like a bad gig to me. This leisurely trip through the jungle is one of the most sedate, family-friendly rides at Disney World, and as long as you approach it with the right attitude, it’s a tour to tickle the funny bones of young and old alike.

My 14 Favorite Movie Kisses (Plus a Couple From TV)

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, a holiday that compelled me to watch a sappy movie or two. Then I came here to Epinions, and I revisited a list that my good friend Beth compiled of her favorite movie kisses. When she first published it, I said I’d have to compose a similar list soon, but I never did, so I’m doing it now. Of course, I’m terrible at coming up with lists like this because every time I think I’ve got it figured out, I think of another movie or ten that I need to add to the list. But here, in chronological order, is my not-at-all definitive list of 14 favorite movie kisses – a couple of which aren’t technically kisses, but feel like them – followed by my favorite miniseries kiss and TV series kiss.

"Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes on this lovely belle notte." - Lady and the Tramp (1955)

The spaghetti kiss.  Accidental, and only lasting seconds, but incredibly sweet.  Sheltered, elegant Lady and rough-and-tumble Tramp are enjoying a night out on the town, and for my money, this may be the most romantic dinner scene in movie history.  The fact that they are dogs makes it all the more romantic, especially when Tramp nudges the last meatball her way.  Anybody with a dog could tell you what a remarkable gesture this is...



“You can’t… marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.” - The Sound of Music (1965)

When I think of impactful movie kisses, this one almost always comes to mind first. The Sound of Music is such a perfect movie, with the romantic tension between Captain Von Trapp and Maria stretched out just enough to make us really cheer for the moment when they finally confess their love for each other. The scene is just so beautifully done, especially that instant when the eyes get all misty and the oh-so-composed captain reveals the extent of his vulnerability. And though the two are truly alone together for one of the first times in the movie, within that first blissful kiss are wrapped up a love of the Captain’s children, of the nuns who are Maria’s family and of the God who guides them both. Just beautiful.



“Look to me, reaching out to show as sure as rivers flow, I’ll never let you go…” - Pete’s Dragon (1977)

Up until a couple months ago, if you were to ask me to name my favorite Disney love song, I would, without reservation, say Candle on the Water from Pete’s Dragon, even though we don’t meet the object of Nora’s affections until the end of the movie, even though it’s not the film’s main focus. Ever since Tangled, it ties with I See the Light, a song of romantic awakening – and I can’t help finding it funny that my two favorite Disney love songs both use light on the water as the central metaphor. But Candle on the Water is all about steadfast devotion, about keeping the faith against all odds. Nora does, and when her faith is finally rewarded, what an embrace awaits!



“When he comes back, I won’t get in the way.” “Oh, Han, it isn’t like that at all. He’s my brother.” - The Return of the Jedi (1983)

When they first met, roguish Han Solo and haughty Leia Organa didn’t much like each other. By the second movie, they’d gained some respect for each other, but Han still had a major self-serving streak, and he had it coming when Leia called him a “stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking Nerfherder” before kissing Luke. Leia and Luke don’t have the tumultuous kind of relationship she and Han do, and they share a deep psychic bond. Of course, early in the third movie, we learn that Luke and Leia are siblings, but poor Han, who is finally learning to live for someone other than himself, remains in the dark. While he’s fighting alongside Leia for Luke’s sake, he still views him as a romantic rival, and a clean-cut hero probably better suited to a princess. So the look on his face at the end of the trilogy when Leia laughs off his blessing to go with Luke, the slow shift from disappointment to confusion to blissful incredulity as she kisses him and reveals that Luke is her brother, is absolutely priceless.



“Since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.” – The Princess Bride (1987)

Well, the quote about says it all about Westley and Buttercup, doesn’t it? Here’s a couple who endured, among other things, presumed death, actual death, lengthy separation, quicksand, kidnapping, unusually sized rodents, torture and marriage to a pompous prince with a nose for iocaine powder. A couple whose love is so epic, so profound, that even a skeptical pre-adolescent boy doesn’t mind hearing about that one last kiss assuring that nothing will ever come between them again. After all, this is true love; you think this happens every day?



“It’s amazing, Molly, the love inside… You take it with you.” - Ghost (1990)

No, not the famous scene that my dad speculates caused enrollment in pottery classes to skyrocket. I’m talking about the final scene in the movie, when Sam has finally ensured Molly’s safety and is ready to move on. Suddenly, Molly can see with her own eyes what the eccentric Oda Mae has been telling her all along: that Sam is there. And finally they can speak one last time, without an intermediary. When Sam, engulfed in light, kisses the stunned Molly, it’s a moment at once joyful and melancholy, made inexpressibly more poignant by the celestial orchestral arrangement of Unchained Melody, one of my favorite pieces of movie music ever.



“Please don’t leave me. I love you!” – Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Who could ever learn to love a Beast? Belle, the noblest and deepest of the Disney princesses, could, and the extent of her regard for this man too long enslaved by his own selfishness carried the power to save a life and transform a kingdom. Granted, it’s a rather crummy stipulation that she must actually state the words; it was clear that she loved him when she left the castle to find her father. Was there ever any doubt that she would return once she had restored him to health? But then we wouldn’t have this climactic moment that so dramatically illustrates the power of love to bring light forth from darkness.



“It was the happiest moment of my life.” - Forrest Gump (1994)

Forrest and Jenny, bosom buddies since the age of five, do share kisses in the movie, but it’s this hug to end all hugs that best conveys the vastness of their regard for each other. As thousands of riled-up protesters look on, Jenny wades into the Reflecting Pool looking like Mary Travers and Forrest, sharp as a tack in his freshly decorated uniform, leaps into the crowd and does what he does best – runs. Right into the waiting arms of the woman for whom his love has never wavered, and never will. And the crowd goes wild. In that moment, this vagabond who’s already seen so much of the worst the world has to offer is genuinely as happy to see this man who has only ever shown her kindness as he is to see her. No kiss could trump the affection encapsulated in this moment.



“I come here with no expectation, only to declare, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours.” - Sense and Sensibility (1995)

The kiss we didn’t see. When I read Sense and Sensibility, I was disappointed that we didn’t really get to see Edward and Elinor’s big moment first-hand. We spent most of the book leading up to it, and then it felt rather glossed over. Emma Thompson’s brilliant screenplay fixes that for us, and Hugh Grant is at his most adorable as he bumbles his way through his earnest declaration of love. It’s enough for us to see unflappable Elinor a mangled mess of laughter and sobs before the demure cutaway. But I am free to imagine the kiss that followed, and I imagine that it was a doozy.



“When was the last time you were decently kissed? I mean truly, truly, good and kissed?” - That Thing You Do! (1996)

I couldn’t leave Erie’s little claim to fame off the list, even if the lovebirds decide to remain in California instead of returning to these frosty shores. In this Tom Hanks-helmed charmer about a one-hit wonder band that starts out in Erie, fresh-faced 20-something Guy is a percussionist passionate about music. He’s also a deeply devoted friend to Faye, the neglected girlfriend of bandleader Jimmy. Throughout the film, he attends to her when Jimmy does not, and it’s obvious that he genuinely cares about her. After Jimmy takes his self-absorption one step too far, the band falls apart and Guy thinks the dream is over. But when he sees Faye sitting alone, preparing to return to her old life, he realizes that a new dream is just beginning.



“You saw me when I was invisible.” – The Princess Diaries (2001)

Ah, the foot-popping kiss. It’s such a Disney sort of moment, with the princess and her true love locking lips for the first time. In this instance, it isn’t quite the first kiss for Mia, who only recently was a gangly geek used to getting stomped on by nearly everyone in school, but it’s the first one that means something. Like Mia, I’ve always imagined my first kiss being something magical, with the orchestra in my heart, to borrow a term from Pushing Daisies, playing at full volume. But whatever the circumstances, I would want to share it with someone who, like Mia’s sweet admirer here, appreciates me for who I am, with all my kooky quirks.



“But I don’t understand. I was supposed to be beautiful.” “You are beautiful.” – Shrek (2001)

As much as I love Beauty and the Beast, I also love the scene in Shrek in which Fiona does not transform. Shrek already looks like a beast, and by night, Fiona does too. But the ogre is her true form, and she does not need the conventional beauty afforded her by the human princess body in order for Shrek to deem her beautiful. It’s really a lovely subversion of a fairy tale I adore that ultimately makes the same point: that true beauty is more than just skin deep.



“You wanna know a secret? … You’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.” - 13 Going on 30 (2004)

I saw this movie for the first time in October of 2005, when I was coming off a very depressing period and moving into a very fruitful one. Maybe it was partly my giddy state of mind at the time, but this movie threw me for a loop. I expected a light little romcom, but it took hold of me completely, touching me far more profoundly than I would have expected. “Well,” I thought, “that’s what love is all about.” It’s a shame that the movie’s most memorable kiss occurs when Matt, the childhood chum of Jennifer Garner’s teen-in-adult-skin Jenna, is engaged, but these two feel so right together that I can’t deny them that perfect moment, after which, she tells her teenage confidantes at a slumber party soon afterward, she “floated home on a cloud”. All I can do is long for the clock to reset so that Jenna can reclaim those lost years and treat the best friend she ever had with the respect and love he so richly deserves.



“Other lights may light my way; I may even find romance. But I won't forget that night when you taught me how to dance.” - Miss Potter (2006)

I’d half-forgotten this moment until Beth mentioned it on her list, but there’s something so incredibly sweet about the awkward, gradual courtship between confirmed spinster Beatrix and her starry-eyed young publisher Norman. It’s such a wonderfully touching love story, tragically cut short. If this movie is any indication – and given the restrictions that surrounded Beatrix under the care of her stuffy parents, it wouldn’t surprise me much – the two shared just one kiss, at once chaste and passionate, before they were torn apart for what was meant to be merely a brief separation. Wrenching.

*

”I don’t want diamond sunbursts or marble halls. I just want you.” - Anne of Avonlea (1987)

When I think of Gilbert Blythe, the first word that comes to mind is “patient”. In Kevin Sullivan’s brilliant pair of miniseries (we won’t go into the two that followed), it takes all of Anne of Green Gables just to get Anne to fully forgive him for the egregious offense of teasing her about her hair way back when they first met. He bends over backwards to try to win her friendship, and she stubbornly brushes him aside. In Anne of Avonlea, they’re friends, but Anne has her ideals of romance, and boy-next-door Gilbert doesn’t fit them. His proposal horrifies her – and her refusal horrifies just about every gal watching at home. It takes an extended separation, a proposal from a man who fits her dream profile and Gilbert’s near-death from illness to make Anne finally appreciate what she should have had all along. The kiss is understated; the catharsis isn’t.

*

“I love you, Penny… and I’ll never leave you again.” - There’s No Place Like Home, Part 3, LOST (2008)

And speaking of unions a long time in coming, I had to mention the epic romance that swept so many LOST fans off their feet. The season two finale of the trippy, emotional island drama introduced viewers to Penelope Widmore, the daughter of a wealthy businessman and the one true love of Desmond Hume, the Scotsman stranded on the Island for three years. Throughout the third and fourth seasons, we saw the trials they weathered and the lengths to which both were willing to go to finally reunite. Their first contact, by phone, after years apart remains one of the most brilliantly written and acted scenes in the series. In fact, I still rank it as my favorite Desmond and Penny moment. But when they finally physically reunite in the season four finale after two long seasons of build-up, the ecstasy in that reunion lip-lock may just be enough to nudge Westley and Buttercup from their exalted position.

So, there you have it: a collection of my favorite cinematic kisses, to which many could no doubt be added. What are some of yours?

A Day Sail Cures the Summer Blahs in Mr. Putter and Tabby Clear the Decks

I live in Erie, Pennsylvania, where one of our claims to fame is the Flagship Niagara, a brig that played a pivotal role in the War of 1812. Last summer, my family spent a day aboard the ship, stretching our nautical legs in the waters of Lake Erie. In Mr. Putter and Tabby Clear the Decks, the latest in a series of books about an old man, his creaky cat, his eccentric neighbor and her rambunctious dog, the quirky quartet go for a similar day sail.

Like the rest of the Mr. Putter and Tabby books, this one is divided into sections. In this case, there are five: Itchy, An Idea ,Pepping Up, A Boat! and Another Boat! We begin with Mr. Putter and Tabby feeling “itchy,” as in bored. They’re hot and can’t think of anything interesting to do. That’s where Mrs. Teaberry comes in. She always has adventurous ideas, and when Mr. Putter appeals to her for help, she comes up with the sailing trip. It seems like a perfect outing for them, but when the time comes to leave, one member of the party is not so willing to depart…

As always, Cynthia Rylant does a wonderful job of breathing life and humor into these characters with just a few words. Timid Mr. Putter and zesty Mrs. Teaberry complement one another well, and their pets are always good for a laugh, especially with Arthur Howard’s expressive illustrations. A lot of the humor in the book is purely visual. Other chuckles come from Rylant’s sparse but flavorful phrasing. For instance, upon reflecting on the boat’s name of The Olden Days, “Mr. Putter was glad the boat was not named The Young and Zippy Days. Those were long behind him.”

One two-page spread has Mr. Putter remembering some of the strange ideas Mrs. Teaberry has had in the past. His eyes pop with alarm as he recalls a wobbly ice skating expedition and a trip to a baffling art museum. On another page, Mr. Putter soaks in the fresh air by standing at the bow of the ship in a jubilant expression that’s almost certainly a reference to Titanic.

Only one and a half “chapters” actually take place on the boat; it’s mostly build-up and a bit of denouement. Nonetheless, kids who are interested in boats might enjoy this outing, and anyone who’s ever joined Mr. Putter and Mrs. Teaberry on a jaunt before is sure to love the chance to see these old friends together again. This is an easy reader series aimed at children in early elementary school, but I’m 29, and my eyes lit up when I saw that another installment had been published. So whatever your age, give Mr. Putter and Tabby Clear the Decks a try. I found it smooth sailing indeed.

Straight No Chaser Brings A Cappella Perfection to the Warner Theatre, Erie, PA, 11-29-10

I try to make it to at least a couple of concerts every year. This year, I got in four big ones: Clay Aiken and Ruben Studdard in Chautauqua, NY, and Dennis DeYoung, Celtic Thunder and Straight No Chaser in Erie, PA. Although I just saw Straight No Chaser this week, I knew about that concert and had tickets for it long before the others. I've been a fan of that Indiana University-based a cappella group since I first heard its rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas two years ago, and my parents and I couldn't pass up the chance to see them live.

The group, in the form that we saw it, includes half of the original members from when it first formed in the late 1990s. The others were in the group in later years and came in as replacements for early members. The guys we saw include original members Randy Stine, Charlie Mechling, Jerome Collins, David Roberts and Walter Chase and newer members Michael Luginbill, Ryan Ahlwardt, Seggie Isho, Don Nottingham and Tyler Trepp. We bought our tickets back in June and managed seats in the seventh row, so we had a great view of the show, and the sound quality in the Warner Theatre was excellent as always.

At the beginning of the concert, there were the usual announcements, and I assumed that a dire warning against photography would ensue. Instead, however, the loudspeaker informed us that the Warner had waived its no-photography policy at SNC's request. We were not only allowed, we were encouraged to take pictures and even videos, and members of the group itself brought it up a couple more times throughout the show. I'm very glad I brought my camera. Wish I'd thought to change the batteries, but they managed to last me just long enough.

What I love about their stance on this is that Straight No Chaser became a phenomenon because their video went viral, and they are staying true to their roots. They understand and appreciate better than most how powerful word of mouth and social media can be. They want us to spread their pictures all over Facebook and pepper YouTube with video clips. Oh, and they totally cracked me up halfway through the show by actually bringing up the house lights and taking a few pictures of the audience. Which is actually a really neat idea, but I've certainly never seen it done before. The next day, they posted those photos, and I tagged myself and my parents, or at least the general area where I knew we were. Very cool.

The concert included a solid mix of Christmas music and regular pop. Most of the songs they performed were on one of their three albums, but there were several others I'd never heard them do before, so those were a treat. In between songs, there was a fair bit of talking as the guys shared anecdotes and background and introduced themselves to us. I still need to work on figuring out exactly who's who and wish they'd sold programs, which could have aided me in that endeavor, but every one of these guys is a great singer.

I loved the humor they brought to all of their interactions and so many of their performances. While a lot of the talking was rehearsed, there was a definite feeling of spontaneity to it. I got a chuckle out of the moment when all of the guys shouted out what they had majored in during college, and one of them said, “Women!” And then another one said, “He flunked out!” And when one of them asked, “How many of you out there like 'Nsync?” Then, after an enthusiastic response, he went on, “Yeah, we're not gonna do one of their songs, I just wanted to see how many of you I could get to admit that in public.” Hee! Seriously, though, I was never too into those guys, but they did have some great harmony.

The Christmas songs of the night were all drawn from their albums. The hyper, hilarious Christmas Can-Can closed the first act, while they saved The 12 Days of Christmas for the encore. That came as no surprise whatsoever to me, since for much of the audience, that was probably the only performance of theirs they'd ever heard before. It is Straight No Chaser's American Pie. If they're still together in some form a decade from now or even two, they'll still be saving that song for last, I'd wager. What did take me by surprise was the second encore, during which they performed their doo-woppy rendition of O Holy Night without any microphones. It was a wonderfully reverent moment. So was the mash-up of Hark the Herald Angels Sing and Angels We Have Heard on High, which included some truly celestial-looking blue lighting.

The lighting also made an impression during You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch, when it was green and ominous as the basses of the group detailed the Grinch's many despicable qualities. More on the madcap end of things was the super-fast Jingle Bells and Donde Esta Santa Claus, which featured some very eyebrow-raising attempts at Latin-style dancing. Hey, Santa! was a lot of fun too, especially when some of the members jumped in to form a vocal brass section. They really are adept at imitating trumpets! While I confess myself a bit disappointed not to hear the gorgeous SNC originals Christmas Wish or Indiana Christmas, I loved all of their selections.

The range of music featured in the rest of the show was pretty diverse. From With a Twist, we got the exuberant cover of Three Dog Night's Joy to the World and the infectious mash-up of I'm Yours and Somewhere Over the Rainbow, as well as the melancholy Under the Bridge. LOST super-fan that I am, I would have loved to hear Wonderwall too, and The Living Years is probably my favorite track on that album. But most of their songs veered more toward the upbeat, allowing them to easily insert some visual humor. We got a taste of Marvin Gaye, the BeeGees and Lady Gaga, and Collins had everybody in stitches with his Michael Jackson moves during the mash-up of Billy Jean and Poison.

I was surprised that Don't Stop Believin' didn't get a bigger reaction, especially with its resurgence as the unofficial theme song for GLEE, though I did hear a rather delayed super-whoop from the upper reaches of the theater about 15 seconds into the song. I was rather taken aback at how pretty I found Madonna's Like a Prayer. Carole King's Hi De Ho was one I don't recall having heard before, but it was quite fun. Probably the number that got the biggest laugh out of this '80s child was the Saturday Morning Cartoon medley. Granted, The Simpsons and Family Guy were a little out of place there, but it was mostly theme songs to shows I grew up watching during that magical time of the week designed just for kids reprieved from school. I also loved the introductory remarks that included references to such '80s kid staples as the E-Z Bake Oven and Lite Brite (and having to physically get up and change the channel on the TV since none of us had remotes). A great nostalgia trip for me.

Going into the concert, I would have said that Jerome Collins was my favorite member of the group, as I love his soulful voice and, frankly, as the only African-American member, he's also the most distinct. After the concert, I'm doubly sure that he's my favorite, since barely a song went by in which he didn't steal the show at some point. That guy has loads of personality, and he's a flat-out amazing singer. I read that when the group reunited, he was playing Simba in a Hong Kong production of The Lion King, and I can just imagine how awesome a job he did. But every member of the group is extremely talented, and it's the way they all work together that makes Straight No Chaser so magical. You never miss the instruments, and you often could swear that they're there. They are vocalists and band all in one. I do have to credit whoever was running the lights, though, because that aspect of the show was phenomenally done and really did add to the whole experience considerably.

Well before the end of the concert, they made a point of inviting us to join them in the lobby about 15 minutes after the show: “We want to meet all 2,222 of you!” I was a little surprised that so few in the sold-out audience took them up on this offer. We made our way to the lobby and watched as all but a few dozen folks filed out. There was a line set up, but it was too crowded at first for me to figure out where we were supposed to stand. By the time I did, even though we were among the first out of the theater, we wound up practically at the end of the line. But the last shall be first, and I'm very glad that we were bringing up the rear.

We snatched up one of the small promotional posters and chatted a bit with the guys behind the long table, and each of them signed the poster for me, and just out of curiosity, we stuck around for a few minutes while the others in line behind us had their turn. At that point, there were barely more than a dozen people left, and the ten members of the group arranged themselves on the Warner's elegant staircase so anyone who wanted a picture with them could get one. Obviously, I wasn't about to pass that up! My dad snapped two photos, both of which turned out great, particularly the first, which was absolutely perfect aside from the two guys in the back losing a couple inches off their heads. It's hard to get all those people in one shot. But there are 11 expansive smiles, and I stick out in my bright blue coat against the backdrop of all those snazzy black suits. They all seem like really nice, down-to-earth guys, and I thought it was classy of them to insist on staying to take pictures despite rumbling stomachs and concerns that, as the clock ticked toward 11:00, they might not be able to find a nearby place still serving food. I hope they did; they certainly earned their dinner that night.

If you have the opportunity to see Straight No Chaser in concert, definitely consider snatching up tickets. This was one of the most vivacious and vocally impressive concerts I've ever attended.

Watching Celtic Thunder From the Best Seat in the House, Erie, PA, 10-15-10 Concert Reviews

On October 14, 2009, my parents and I attended our first Celtic Thunder concert at the Warner Theatre here in Erie, PA. On October 15, 2010, we attended our second, also at the Warner, this time with my brother Nathan in tow. Can we count on October 16, 2011, lads?

I’ve spent my life being mesmerized by Irish and Scottish music, so it’s no surprise to me that I would find Celtic Thunder enjoyable. Yet I have always gravitated toward artists who have been performing since long before I was born, and I’m fiercely loyal to the Irish Rovers, so I was cautious in my embrace of this PBS powerhouse quintet. I was certain that the two groups would never have to compete for my affections; my first impression was that Celtic Thunder took itself too seriously and felt too manufactured. Their vocals were impressive, and Ryan Kelly’s luminous rendition of Desperado, which introduced me to the group, remained firmly lodged in my mind, but they still felt very much like a passing curiosity rather than My Next Big Obsession. Little did I know...

I fell in love with Celtic Thunder slowly but completely. I first listened to them shortly before Christmas of 2008; by St. Patrick’s Day of 2009, I’d memorized the bulk of the first two CDs, seen the PBS special in full and watched some interviews. I had a much better sense of their personalities. And I was keen to trot off to Buffalo to see them perform. The timing wasn’t great, so we skipped it, and I feared it would be just as impractical when they hit a major city near us in the fall. “If only they’d come to Erie!” I moaned, convinced by my dad’s assertion that we’d never land such a hot act. I’m glad he was wrong on that score.

Last year’s concert was fantastic. We sat three rows back from the orchestra pit, where there were two or three rows of additional seating, and were able to get a wonderfully close view of these talented vocalists and musicians we’d been following all year. After the concert, we joined the crowd hanging around to wait for the boarding of the bus. I saw them all come out of the theatre to stash their luggage, and a couple of them stopped to chat and allow for some photos. Just as Ryan was getting to the bus, I worked up the nerve to ask him to pose for a picture with me, a request which he graciously accepted. It was a good night.

But this year’s concert was even better. This year, I decided that the time had come to thank PBS for all those years of watching everything from Sesame Street and Jakers! to Peter Paul and Mary’s Christmas special and Celtic Thunder itself. The inspiration for this generosity was the pledge level that included a ticket / Meet and Mingle combo for this year’s show. I called in and was surprised to find them still available. I’d already purchased three tickets to the concert, but I bought one for myself, even as I worried about being on my own for the entirety of the evening.

To calm my nerves a bit, I left a message on the official Celtic Thunder forum, hoping I might connect with someone and thus not risk being a complete wallflower during the pre-show event. I received a very kind response from a woman coming in from Ohio with her daughter, and much to my relief, I spotted them as soon as I walked in the doors of the theatre, and my arrival was early enough that by the time we were invited to leave the lobby, we’d introduced ourselves and pledged to stick together.

I did a little reading about the pre-show reception, a change from previous concert tours, which have included post-show Meet and Greets that are more like receiving lines, with each individual getting a short time with the vocalists in attendance, just enough for an autograph and a picture. The general impression I got was not very positive. I read many complaints about the new format favoring the outgoing; in most cases, people were seated around tables of six or so, and the guys came around to each table for a limited amount of time, so it wasn’t uncommon for someone with a forceful personality to dominate the conversation. What’s more, the format was hardly conducive to picture-taking, and it sounded like there was a constant feeling of them being rushed along to the next table by their manager.

I was pleasantly surprised, then, to find that there were no tables at our Meet and Mingle aside from a snack table and a couple of tiny tables just big enough to serve as a suitable autograph-signing surface. It really did feel like mingling as the vocalists and instrumentalists weaved their way through the room, sharing some unhurried conversation with each little cluster of people. We didn’t do such a stellar job of separating ourselves into six large groups, but that didn’t seem to make a difference; they arrived much earlier than I expected, around 6:35, and by the time they left, everyone had gotten in some brief but meaningful chatting.

I’m so thankful that my new friends Meileen and Shelley reached out to me as they did, since I would have felt very awkward otherwise trying to wedge myself into someone else’s group, and I’m not sure if I would have managed to get any pictures at all. As it was, the three of us took turns snapping each other. I haven’t seen any of the ones with me in them yet, aside from the one that someone nearby took of the three of us with my camera; I can’t wait to see how they turned out.

Another nice surprise was the fact that we got to spend time with not the promised two but four performers. With at least one person in close proximity to every point in the room throughout the event, the behavior was perfectly orderly, with each attendee cheerfully waiting his or her turn. We first met with violin virtuoso Nicole Hudson, who came over so quickly and started speaking with us so casually that at first it didn’t click with me that she was a member of the band. She asked us where we were from and which of the lads were our favorites, and we cheerfully replied. She was very easy to talk to and extremely friendly.

Next up was George Donaldson, the bald, burly Scotsman who is the oldest member of the vocal ensemble. I was especially excited to meet him, as I tend to think of his as Celtic Thunder’s anchor. An experienced balladeer with a tonal richness in each performance I’ve heard few vocalists achieve, he would be my favorite member of the group if I weren’t so smitten with Ryan, whose first solo album goes on sale this week. To my chagrin, I didn’t quite catch every word George said to us; his Glaswegian brogue is thick, and while it’s a joy to listen to, it’s also sometimes a tad difficult to decipher.

But I understood his main comment that he was feeling melancholy at the moment since his wife and daughter were flying out of Erie International Airport as we spoke, ending their week-long stint on the tour with him, and he hoped he wouldn’t be too sad to sing that night. Despite his wistfulness at the departure of his family, he was every bit as warm and wonderful in person as I would have expected. He seemed touched when I told him how much I’m reminded of my late grandpa, also named George, when he sings The Old Man, and he apologized that I wouldn’t be hearing it that night. I’m especially keen to see how that photo with George turned out. My only regret with his visit is that it began with him offering a firm handshake to each of us, but when he came to me, something else caught his attention, and soon we were talking and the handshake never did happen. I suspect he has quite the grip.

It was a little while before operatic tenor Paul Byrom made his way over to us. We told him how much we love his solo albums, and he informed us that he planned to stay on after the tour to arrange some solo gigs here in the US. He also told us to keep an eye out on Twitter for news about an upcoming solo project. Twitter, incidentally, has done wonders for allowing fans to truly feel as though they are getting a peek into these performers’ lives. Celtic Thunder is not a banter band; virtually no talking occurs on stage. But boy, do the quips fly on Twitter! That was also where I learned that enthusiastic Damian McGinty, the youngest member of the group who just turned 18, shares my passion for the TV show LOST, and I loved reading his thoughts on the final season, especially since they often were in line with my own. Anyway, Paul was lovely, and when it came time for pictures, Shelley went over to stand next to him, and he motioned for me to come join them. “I’m trying not to touch you,” said Shelley, in deference to their tour manager’s warnings about respecting their personal space; he chuckled dismissively and drew us in for a cozy three-person side-hug before moving on.

We were the last people Neil Byrne spoke with before heading out. He seemed to have a little trouble extricating himself from the back of the room, but we were told not to worry, he didn’t need to change as the others did, so he wasn’t quite so pressed for time. All-star musician Neil has been an integral part of Celtic Thunder from the beginning, switching instruments with ease and doing his best to make the jigs and reels as entertaining as possible. Recently, however, he has come to feel like a shadow member of the ensemble, even getting his own solo tracks on albums and joining the lads on vocals in group numbers. Indeed, I had sort of gotten the impression that Celtic Thunder had morphed from a quintet to a sextet, but the program covers, posters and t-shirts all exclude him, so it’s hard to say precisely what role he plays. What is clear is that Celtic Thunder would be much poorer without him.

He came over to us in his black suit and matching kilt and was completely charming. Like Paul, he hails from Dublin, so his urbane accent is lilting but poses little challenge in the way of comprehension. I felt a little silly with my program from last year, in which the only pages that feature him are so dark that I figured his autograph wouldn’t show up; the page he ended up signing was Watching Celtic Thunder As a Woman, which was simply because it was the last light-colored page in the book. I hope he was not affronted by the randomness of this autograph placement; if he was, though, I think all was forgiven when I informed him that I’d just ordered his EP, which caused him to break out in a large, grateful grin. It’s quite a perfect storm of Celtic Thunder goodness - the Christmas album, the concert, Neil’s EP and Ryan’s album, all within the space of a couple weeks. Not that I’m complaining!

The Meet and Mingle officially lasted from 6:30 to 7:30, but by the time Neil left at 7:05 or so, several people had already made their way out into the theatre at large or to the merchandise table near the front entrance. My new friends, printed e-mail from the Warner in hand, had to get to the front desk to sort something out with their tickets, which had gotten lost in the mail; I stuck around for a couple more minutes to grab another cup of punch and a few goodies before I headed down to see what I could plunk my money down on. Naturally, I bought a program, but when I saw that there was a calendar, I couldn’t resist snatching that up too, while wishing that the kiosk where I work sold it so I could get a smile out of looking at the lads throughout my shift; goodness knows I never hear them on the mall radio. I also indulged in a pair of green glow sticks and a pack of buttons, and it all came in a snazzy, heavy-duty gift bag with “Celtic Thunder” printed on it.

My parents met up with me at the merchandise table, but we soon parted ways again as they made their way to their seats, which turned out to be closer than I thought, about the same distance away as last year but more toward the middle. I, meanwhile, could scarcely believe it when I was ushered to a seat in the front row of the orchestra pit at the dead center of the stage. I’d somehow managed to finagle the best seat in the entire house.

To my left was a man who’d traveled from a couple of hours away, and this kind gentleman caught Keith’s guitar pick when he tossed it off the stage after his Beach Boys medley in the second act but later gave it to the teenage girl sitting behind us. To my right was an empty seat, and next to that was another young man who became a source of much amusement when he returned to his seat halfway through the first song of the second act, prompting Paul to tap his wrist with exaggerated exasperation and then, during the final song, reach down and shake his hand to show that there were no hard feelings. The lights came down so suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, that I can’t help wondering if this was a planned shtick - that they intended to catch people by surprise and then integrate the resulting tardiness into the act. Even I was a couple seconds late sitting down, and I was standing just outside the pit for the entirety of the intermission.

The concert began as last year’s did, with the dramatic extended instrumental opening of Phil Coulter’s Heartland, toward the end of which the lads emerged from the darkness and mist to strike dramatic poses as the thunderous drums continued. I watched the fog slowly creep down the steps of the platform on stage, as deliberate as a slinky, before leaving the stage to pass directly through me, causing me to shiver with cold and delight. I hope that Celtic Thunder will always begin their concerts with this song; I can’t imagine a better way to start. The choreography was much the same as it was last year, as were the vocals, though I found it fascinating to be able to watch them harmonizing from such a short distance away, especially during Paul’s big line toward the end. The main difference I noticed - one that caught me enjoyably by surprise - was Ryan singing the stirring “Déan trócaire, déan trócaire, a Thiarna” toward the end.

That was the first of many surprises of the night in terms of performances, particularly during the first act. I hadn’t read up much on what songs would be featured in this concert, nor had I glanced at the list of songs in the program, so most of the first half caught me entirely off-guard. I’d heard of Heritage, the upcoming album that focuses on traditional Celtic music, but all I knew about the set list was the fact that Damian would be singing Buachaill Ón Eirne (Come By the Hills), which I would probably consider his signature Celtic Thunder song, but that the entire thing would be in Gaelic instead of just one verse. Because Damian’s voice has deepened dramatically, the song already has a different flavor to it than on the first DVD, and it’s magical to hear his tongue dance over those Irish words in such a seemingly effortless manner.

Prior to the final three songs in the first act, it was all new stuff to me from then on. Keith Harkin, who has ditched his feathery hairdo in favor of more closely cropped locks, mesmerized me with his delicate finger-picking and tender vocals on Michael Peter Smith’s The Dutchman, which is threatening to overtake Mountains of Mourne as my favorite of his songs. The only unfortunate part of this performance was that a large speaker stood directly between him and me, with the result that I couldn’t see much below his shoulders for a majority of the song, but that did nothing to reduce my sense of wonder at his masterful performance.

I had heard a rumor that George and Ryan would soon have a duet, and I was thrilled when this came to fruition as they joined forces for Coulter’s Gold and Silver Days - which, curiously enough, is not on the set list, though some of the lyrics to the chorus are featured elsewhere in the program. Each of them had a solo in the first act; George’s gentle vocals breathed serenity in the Skye Boat Song, a traditional lullaby dealing with the legendary 18th-century figure of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and Ryan tore his saucy way through the equally traditional Black Is the Colour, seemingly relishing the sense of power that came with the lights changing color every time he pumped his fist in the air.

These were great moments, but Gold and Silver Days was pure enchantment and is poised to be my favorite track on the new album. The closest George and Ryan have really come to a duet before is the first verse of Christmas 1915; here, their magnificent voices complement one another wonderfully in an ode to simple childhood pleasures that seems especially fitting for both of them. This one goes right along with George’s usual family-centric fare, but it’s a departure for Ryan - and yet I get the sense that the sentiments contained therein may be closer to the real Ryan than just about any song he’s recorded for the group thus far.

My other favorite among the songs I’d never heard before was Home From the Sea, another Coulter song, which is a rousing ballad that pays tribute to those who risk their lives to rescue sailors out on the ocean. It’s an ideal group song because of the lengthy verses that allow each singer to take several lines, so each man gets the spotlight before joining with the others on the harmonious chorus, which was simple enough and repeated enough times that by the end, I was singing along.

Paul waxed romantic with the somewhat familiar traditional Robert Burns tune Red Red Rose, and I got a kick out of seeing him and Damian do a duet, singing Clifton Bingham’s Just a Song at Twilight as they sat on the steps. Though it’s a serious song, they inserted a bit of fun into it by making moony eyes at each other throughout the performance, but Neil played it entirely straight on his only solo of the night, Coulter’s gorgeously aching Noirin Mó Stoirin. The lyrics aren’t available online yet, but as best I recall, it had to do with a man in exile hoping to reunite with his true love. Sad, heartfelt, and a perfect vehicle for Neil’s impressive upper register. This delicate performance demonstrates that he’s got just as much in the way of vocal chops as the main five. He shared the spotlight with Keith on the electrified Whiskey in the Jar, which was easily the most hard-rockin’ part of the first act and which involved both of them playing electric guitars and zooming across the stage so fast that I swear I felt a breeze from Neil’s kilt.

For the most part, though, Neil was stationary and playing the drums, the guitar or some other instrument. He and the other members of the band were highlighted in the rollicking Belfast Polka and later, in act two, in Appalachian Roundup. Keyboardist David Cooke, who also serves as the musical director, is the oldest member of the band, but his energy was infectious, particularly as he led the clapping in Belfast Polka. Declan O’Donoghue really knows his way around a drum set, and Brendan Monaghan furnishes most of the distinctly Irish-sounding instrumentation, which is so prominent in the first half of the show. Nicole Hudson and Katie Holt are swift as the wind with their bows racing across the strings of their violin and cello, and Joanna Byrne completes the Celtic sound with her flutes and delicate harp-plucking.

I just about fell out of my chair when the lads, Neil included, burst onto the stage for the initially a cappella, then hoe-downish version of Bill Staines’ Sunday School classic A Place in the Choir. This is an ideal way to show off each member’s vocal range, since the verses speak specifically of different types of singing voices. Hearing Damian take the “bass,” “the one at the bottom where the bullfrog croaks and the hippopotamus moans and groans with a big to-do,” was a hoot, especially since the rest of the guys feigned shock and mock-fainted. There was more silliness going on in this number than any other, with the guys taking every opportunity to joke around. Their moves included a couple of endearingly goofy line dancing routines and the imitation of several of the animals mentioned in the song. I tried to mouth the words to this classic I know so well, but I was so busy cracking up I couldn’t get too far.

This served as the exuberant finale for the first act, notable for its total immersion in traditional Irish and Scottish sounds. I immediately loved every one of the songs although I hadn’t heard most of them before, and it was a thrill to experience them for the first time on this night, when I was close enough to stage that if I’d stretched out my foot a bit more, I could have kicked it. Celtic Thunder’s last two albums have been pretty short on music that actually sounds Celtic, so I was very happy to see such a balanced presentation at the concert. I adored everything about the first act, from the old-fashioned outfits to the sense of discovery, and the intermission was just long enough to give me time to touch base with my parents and brother and my Meet and Mingle buddies before seating myself for the It’s Entertainment portion.

The vast majority of the songs in the second half come from that album, which came out in February of this year, though a few songs from earlier albums turn up, along with one whose album placement I haven’t figured out, as it hasn’t yet turned up on an album and doesn’t quite fit in with Heritage. Act two begins with the fantastic group song Take Me Home and ends with Ireland’s Call, the Celtic Thunder rallying cry that always gets everybody up and marching. Both were written by Coulter and predate It’s Entertainment; it’s hard to imagine the show without them. The lads seem to love ribbing each other during these big group numbers, whether that involves lifting up George’s kilt to reveal the boxers underneath or becoming so overcome with mirth, as Keith was in the most somber line of Ireland’s Call, that continuing to sing is impossible. The kilts only came out for that grand finale, during which the rather nasty scar that Damian received beneath his knee after taking a tumble from his bike a couple weeks ago was all too visible; the lads spent most of the rest of the second act in snazzy suits.

Despite George’s warnings about possibly performing under standard, he channeled his emotions as he faced another lengthy separation from his wife and daughter into especially heartfelt performances. From where I was sitting, his eyes looked moist during his poignant rendition of Neil Diamond’s Hello Again, and he and the audience bolstered each other’s energy during the exhilarating performance of the Proclaimers’ Life With You, a joyous celebration of a happy marriage. As wonderful as all the lads are at what they do, George has a special gift for connecting with the audience. I swear he aimed a Spockian raise of the eyebrow at me on a couple of occasions, but I imagine that most of the people there felt at some point that he had looked directly at them. He makes a real effort to include everyone, and while he is on the stage, particularly during Life With You, it feels as though he’s enveloping the entire audience in a great big bear hug.

Aside from the opening and closing numbers and the purely instrumental bits, the only repeat from an album prior to It’s Entertainment was I Want to Know What Love Is, the Foreigner ballad Keith sings on the second album. This is probably my least favorite of his songs, whereas I really like Chicago’s Hard to Say I’m Sorry, which is listed in the program and which I would have expected, given that most of the songs from this part of the concert come from It’s Entertainment. Keith does a perfectly good job with it, I’m just a little confused as to why they decided to go with that one instead of the more recent choice. I much preferred his Surfing Medley, which again allowed him the chance to pull out his electric guitar.

Paul was a shameless flirt throughout the second act, pulling out all the seductive stops for the old Dean Martin standard Sway and augmenting his show-stopping performance of Coulter’s Doo Wacka Doo with as much hat-tipping, cane-clicking and shoe-tapping as possible. He looked mighty classy in his top hat and tails, donning an upper crust accent as he sang of his delight in listening to his grandparents’ old records from the 1920s. A loving tribute to a distinct era in American music and a hysterical high point in the concert, this one shows off Paul’s cheeky sense of humor and his fancy footwork while also encouraging intergenerational bonding over music, which is something that has happened quite a bit as a result of Celtic Thunder.

Damian’s performance of Michael Buble’s Home felt sincerely wistful; he was in the United States for his 18th birthday, and after a month here, my guess is that he is getting a little bit homesick. I was especially looking forward to seeing him do Frank Loesser’s Standing on the Corner, which he sings with such relish while dressed in a blazing alabaster outfit worthy of LOST’s Man in White, Jacob. Unlike on the It’s Entertainment DVD, he has no girl to link up with here, but that in a way makes the song even cuter, since Damian still seems genuinely mystified by his own chick magnetism.

Neil, Keith and Ryan joined forces for Hallelujah, and their harmonies were even more ethereal in person. After I listened to the album, I found myself wishing that I had the chance to watch Ryan sing Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do, since that one is not included on the DVD. Accepting Ryan’s invitation to “look into [his] eyes” as he sat scarcely ten feet away and sang one of the most romantic songs I’ve ever heard is an experience I’ll not soon forget, and as I listened to him caress each affectionate word, I couldn’t help thinking that if Ryan ever does decide to get married, this is the kind of husband he will be.

I loved the intimacy of that performance, but the one that completely threw me for a loop was Coldplay’s Viva La Vida, at the beginning of which he materialized seemingly out of nowhere, leaping over the back of the park bench on the right-hand side of the stage and landing neatly on the seat. I was looking forward to Jim Croce’s Bad, Bad Leroy Brown, but this performance was just as theatrical, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard any scuttlebutt about him covering such an explosively popular song. Exultation filled the chorus as he stood with his arms upraised in a gesture of triumphant supplication, eventually to be joined by Neil. So is this a sneak peek at an album so far off in the distance it hasn’t been named yet? Could it be a track on his solo album? Or was this just a concert exclusive? Whatever the case may be, I’m glad I didn’t see it coming. It was one of my favorite moments of the night.

Before the grand finale of Ireland’s Call, the lads all came together again for U2’s I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, a thrilling group number done mostly as an ensemble and featuring the full force of the backing band, particularly Nicole and Katie on the strings. When it came to expectations for the concert, it sure seemed like everyone in the audience found what they were looking for that night. I know I did.

Special Forces Try to Avoid Explosive Endings in The Hurt Locker

On Saturday, my brother proposed renting an Oscar movie so that we could get in a little last-minute cramming. “Works for me,” I said. “As long as it’s not something depressing like The Hurt Locker.” He then proceeded to tell me that The Hurt Locker was precisely what he had in mind, and as he’s home on spring break, I didn’t want to be a stick-in-the-mud.

Ryan Kelly, my favorite member of Celtic Thunder, had endorsed it as “certainly up there with Saving Private Ryan and Platoon as my favorite war movies.” Well, I hated Saving Private Ryan, except for Tom Hanks and Jeremy Davies, whose characters’ arcs ended in a most distressing fashion, and I couldn’t get through Platoon. “Hurt Locker will probably not be everyone’s cup of tea,” Ryan conceded when he tweeted his praise of the film. I was sure it wouldn’t be mine.

I can’t say it’s a movie I have any desire to watch again. But was it done well? Was there edge-of-the-seat action? Did Kathryn Bigelow deserve to become the first woman to win Best Director? Yes. Yes. And probably yes. She certainly gave me the sense that we were right there in Iraq with the specialists risking their lives at every turn to diffuse bombs. The movie almost felt more like a documentary than a traditional film. And while I was still stubbornly rooting for UP for Best Picture and probably enjoyed The Hurt Locker the least out of the Best Picture contenders I saw, I don’t begrudge the movie the win there either.

The Hurt Locker stars Jeremy Renner as SSG William James, who comes across as a slightly mad adrenaline junkie who is nonetheless very good at his job. He’s paired up with Sgt. J. T. Sanborn (Anthony Mackie), who’s been in Iraq longer and fears his new partner is a bit of a loose cannon. Naturally, over the course of the movie, the very different men come to respect one another as they cheat death together.

While I was unfamiliar with Renner and have only seen Mackie in a couple of movies, and didn’t recognize him off the bat, there are several big names in this film, but they only pop in for a few moments. In the beginning, we have Guy Pearce as the man Will comes in to replace. David Morse and Robert Duvall put in similarly brief appearances, and Evangeline Lilly has a few short scenes as Will‘s ex-wife Connie. Her presence in the film prompted many LOSTies to make the Hurt Locker / Avatar showdown not just a rivalry between Bigelow and James Cameron but also between Kate Austen and AnaLucia Cortez.

Cinematographer Barry Ackroyd, filming in Jordan and Kuwait, creates the ultimate tourist repellant for Iraq. The desolation is palpable, with everything shrouded in dust and concealed weapons on every corner. For a war movie, I found it surprisingly quiet, as the film simply follows these men in their everyday lives, which just happen to sometimes include pulse-pounding danger. There’s not a lot of one side fighting another as such; in this movie, the Americans we see are almost entirely about the preservation of life. Those who plant the bombs are usually out of the picture, having left their special deliveries in the ground or strapped to some hapless victim.

This film serves as a powerful reminder that not all suicide bombers have a choice in the matter. The Hurt Locker gives us two heartbreaking examples of this, in the form of Beckham (Christopher Sayegh), a plucky local boy William befriends, and a father who appeals to the bomb squad for help after getting rigged up with a thoroughly alarming contraption. The latter is perhaps the most intense scene of the movie, and it reminds me eerily of my hometown’s most morbid claim to fame, being the site of the 2003 Pizza Bomber Incident. I was just a couple of blocks away when the drama unfolded on upper Peach Street as pizza deliveryman Brian Wells, having just held up a bank under orders from a crazed conspirator, was cornered by police and, revealing that he was locked into a bomb, proceeded to beg for his life. Watching the film, I couldn’t help thinking that if Erie’s bomb squad had been summoned as quickly and responded as passionately as William and J. T., the outcome could have been much different. Chilling.

The Hurt Locker is a downer of a movie. It’s gritty and profane and violent. But it’s also extremely compelling, and even inspiring to think of the risks these soldiers embrace as they seek to diffuse as many bombs as they can in their tours of duty. Even for those like William who thrive on the thrill this omnipresent danger delivers, there’s a lot to be said for that kind of bravery and willingness to sacrifice one‘s life in an effort to make the world safer.

Number 2600: Around Epinions - How Can Erie Be Dreary When It Has Presque Isle?

I live in Erie, PA, a city that tends to be rather unappreciated by its residents. It’s the fourth-largest city in Pennsylvania, but it has a hometown feel nonetheless. Hence, we kind of get the best of both worlds here. Major attractions include the small but pleasant Erie Zoo; the humble amusement park Waldameer, which you can peruse for free, buying ride tickets as desired; the Millcreek Mall, which recently turned up on a list of the ten best shopping centers in America; the Warner Theater and Civic Center, where I’ve seen such acts as Celtic Thunder, Art Garfunkel, James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot, the Irish Rovers, Clay Aiken and the Harlem Globetrotters; and the recently built casino. But Erie’s proudest feature has to be Presque Isle, the peninsula jutting out into Lake Erie, and so I’m making that the subject of my 2600th post here on Epinions.

Presque Isle State Park is 3200 acres, and it’s about a 13-mile drive all the way around the peninsula. There’s no admission fee to enter the park or the Tom Ridge Environmental Center, the state-of-the-art nature center that has stood at the entrance to the peninsula for about four years. Within the park are numerous nature trails, as well as a visitors’ center; some pavilions; the acclaimed ice cream shop Sara’s; and Perry Monument, which stands in tribute to Oliver Hazard “Don’t Give Up the Ship!” Perry, the Naval hero from the Battle of Lake Erie in the War of 1812. You can also see the lighthouse, though only once have I actually seen it illuminated.

Woodsy areas abound on Presque Isle. When we go there with the intention of walking rather than simply taking a drive, I’m most inclined to take those trails that lead through the woods, since that is where one is likeliest to spot wildlife. Birds are especially plentiful on the peninsula. Our favorite to spot is the majestic Great Blue Heron, though we most often see those when we take the canoe out into the lagoon early in the morning. Last year, we had the rare opportunity to see a nesting pair of Least Bitterns. Go in the spring, and you’ll find yourself practically tripping over geese wherever you go.

It’s rare to get around the peninsula without spotting a rabbit or two, and deer have been known to make an appearance. We’ve seen foxes and beavers, and there have long been rumors of coyotes, though we’ve never been lucky enough to see one ourselves. Snapping turtles are fairly common, while any part of the lagoon featuring a large log is a likely sunning spot for smaller turtles. It’s especially fun to come upon these in the canoe; they usually stay put until the canoe comes almost within arm’s reach, so it’s easy to get a lot of fantastic photographs. Then, en masse, they’ll all slip into the water. Once we’ve passed by, they’ll usually resurface within minutes.

The peninsula is usually pretty crowded when we go, except in the early morning, when we only tend to bump into the odd boater or fisherman. During the day, the paths are full of bikers and roller bladers as well as dog-walkers; though it’s easy to get lost in the beauty of the landscape, it’s important to be aware of one’s surroundings lest you get run over or entangled. If you’re going into the woods, be careful to keep as covered up as possible, as there are ticks lurking, and some are pretty nasty. Inspect yourself and especially your dog afterward for ticks. If they’re big enough to be easily visible, they’re probably not a major concern, but you still want to get rid of them quickly.

Of course, most people, particularly visitors to Erie, go to the peninsula with an eye for the beach. There are several different beaches open to visitors. Beach Six is probably the most popular; it includes concessions, restrooms and changing rooms as well as a volleyball court, and during the summer, it’s usually packed. Other popular beaches include Beach One, Barracks Beach and Beaches Seven through Eleven. In addition to swimming, sandcastle-building and other typical beach activities, many people fly kites on the beach, particularly during the off-season. Sometimes we park and simply watch the kites for half an hour or so. There are also several picnic tables so that families can enjoy lunch without worrying too much about getting sand in their food.

A trip to Presque Isle doesn’t have to cost anything, but there are some activities available for those willing to pay a bit extra. One that is highly recommended is the scenic boat tour, which takes visitors around the bay, with a tour guide to point out areas of interest. If your familiarity with Erie is limited, this is a great way to get acquainted with some of its major features. Meanwhile, a pontoon ride around the lagoons is free and also very enjoyable.  You might also want to rent one of the surreys, pedal-operated vehicles that are great for families who want to see the peninsula from an unusual perspective. Meanwhile, if you’re a local, you can reserve the pavilions for events. My brothers had their graduation parties in outdoor pavilions, while mine was indoors - which turned out to be a very good thing since we had rain the entire day. It was roomy inside, and we were situated right near a marshy area from which a loon called to us all afternoon.

Presque Isle is most popular during the summer, and its biggest weekend is Discover Presque Isle, which usually takes place in July. At that time, crafters, food vendors and all sorts of local organizations set up shop along the peninsula for a weekend full of activities that include lighthouse tours and sand sculpture contests. Presque Isle is also a popular site for charitable walks and runs, such as the March of Dimes and the CROP Walk, both of which I’ve participated in. The length of the walk makes you realize just how big the peninsula really is.

It can also be fun to visit in the winter, even though you probably won’t be doing any swimming. It’s fun to ramble along the trails during this time because you’re almost certain to see some animal tracks. If it’s been cold enough long enough, you might venture out onto the bay. Erie usually gets a lot of snow, and the ice sometimes is pretty thick. I’ve walked across the bay before, and it’s a pretty neat experience. Ice fisherman are also a common sight, and many people enjoy snowshoeing or cross-country skiing. Meanwhile, check out the beach and you’ll probably be treated to ice dunes, stark and ominous against the gray sky. There’s something stirringly desolate about the peninsula in late winter, as captured in the post-apocalyptic movie The Road, which was filmed in part on Presque Isle.

If you ever have the opportunity to visit Erie, make sure you stop by Presque Isle. It’s a wonderful place to spend the day. And if you live here, take a drive to the peninsula some afternoon and experience a resurgence of civic pride.