THE LOST ONE: Lauryn Hill at The Paramount

I was among the many disgruntled, disappointed Lauryn Hill fans who witnessed her disastrous concert at The Paramount in Oakland last night. The crowd was up and excited, and the opening act, Jupiter Rising, was game and enthusiastic. We particularly enjoyed the beat box stylings of the male leader, and the female vocalist did well. I remember thinking, she's good, but she's no Lauryn - yet. Little did I know...

At least I already knew based on Hill's history that this show was going to be a crap shoot. I surmised that she might be off the wall as she's been for years, or maybe, just maybe, since she was booked into such an illustrious and prime venue as The Paramount, she was tipping her toes into the waters of a full-fledged comeback. Hoping against hope, I fantasized that she would mix rousing new material with crowd pleasing renditions of the songs people still venerate her for.

I was half right. She did mix new material with old, both of which were only very occasionally recognizable. We waited two and a half hours for her to appear, staggering onto the stage in an outfit that looked like a Santeria/Pentecostal mash up, a big and untidy red afro, and a black kerchief to wipe off the buckets of sweat.

And then there was her most alluring accoutrement, her voice - except that her voice was barely even there. She shouted, she yelled, she chanted in an admittedly raspy shadow of the voice Lauryn Hill fans have cherished for a long long time now. At one point, she calmed down long enough to do a tender "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," and she did a competent job with it, although half the time we were holding our breath praying she would hit the notes accurately. Her voice has changed. It's no longer the supple, mesmerizing instrument it once was. That's sad, but that's the nature of pop - ephemeral, fleeting. And we all age and our voices change.

Life changes us and it shows in our faces, our spirits and, yes, our voices. Lauryn Hill gave a coherent explanation of why she has changed and what she has been through and it was hands down the high point of her show. She had me with her all the way right then. She had me riveted with her honesty, and, in a way, her show was brutally honest about where she is at. She says she is sober, but then she falls flat on her back in the middle of a song. Sobriety does change you, and the transformation is often messy and unruly, and Lauryn Hill at The Paramount may well be cogent testimony to that very fact.

The crowd booed her and two-thirds of them exited the theatre in hordes before her show was half over. Much as I am in agreement with their dissatisfaction, I was put off by the loud boos nearly drowning out the ridiculously high volumed band. I guess there cannot be much confusion over how they felt, or whether Oakland will accept a show of this (lack of) caliber.

I still love Lauryn Hill and I still miss her. I saw her last night, and I'm still missing her today. I wish her nothing but good on her journey and I hope she makes it back to us. She is needed right here on earth, where her point of view is one which gets short shrift in the current cultural mix. We're still waiting on you, Lauryn!

Knocked Up: I Laughed So Hard Tears Started Falling Out Of My Eyes!

Really! I heard this was funny but I wasn't ready for how hilarious it is, and sweet, and ridiculous, and crazy, and outrageous and tender. I loved the characters and all the actors, too. Great smart ultra contemporary writing and plot line. This might be one of those rare comedies that gets nominated for lots of awards.

LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE GIRLS: AMY WINEHOUSE, JOSS STONE, LILLY ALLEN AND "GIRL GROUPS, GIRL CULTURE"

I just finished reading Jacqueline Warwick's "Girl Groups, Girl Culture," a text book in the making about the influence of the girl groups of the early-to-mid 1960s on their female audience, and how the singer's images and songs subtly prepared them for the sweeping social changes of the near future, including women's liberation and extreme role differences. While the book is a bit dry at times and reads like an elongated thesis, Warwick does have the power of conviction in her point of view, and it is fun to read her analysis of he Marvelettes, Ronettes, et al. She makes a strong case for reevaluating this brilliant and often trivialized era of music and raising it to the heights it deserves.

I wonder what Ronnie Spector thinks about British soulster Amy Winehouse's music. I read an interview with Ronnie in the New York Times where she said she was leafing through a magazine and came across a photo of Winehouse and, not wearing her glasses, thought it was herself and got real excited. Winehouse does appropriate The Ronettes' look and her producer, Mark Ronson, apes and updates the girl group sound for her second CD, "Back to Black" as immediate and arresting a record as has been released this year. Her UK debut, "Frank," while jazzier and a somewhat better vocal showcase, initiated the often blunt bordering on profane stance of this exciting, fresh and thrilling new talent.

Also a real aural treat and also from the UK is Lilly Allen, a decent singer, fabulous songwriter and real voice for urban females on her debut, "Alright, Still." Her lyrics are quite amazing and her melodies draw on hip hop as well as Europop, with plenty of girl group references thrown into the mix. I love her record as well.

Allen and Winehouse have very different voices, but one element they appear to have in common is brutal honesty. Joss Stone, on the other hand, while unquestionably a superb soul singer, seems to fall short in that area. Her albums have been polite showcases for her old school R&B sound, and the coaching from Betty Wright and Angie Stone has borne some serious fruit. Joss' current CD, shimmeringly produced by beau Raphael Saadiq, is chock full of Aretha Franklin styled grooves and Stone pulls them off. Much of the material is quite horny, and I guess that is representative of a young Hollywood starlet, but there is a sameness to most of "Introducing Joss Stone" (our third intro, by the way) that causes the record to slip into the background.

Joss Stone, Lilly Allen, Amy Winehouse, three white women from the UK who are conquering the US airwaves and music buyer's hearts, while genius African American singers and songwriters like Kelis and Fantasia languish here, relatively speaking, in terms of sales, media attention and airplay. This is just more of the status quo since the 1960s, when Dusty Springfield and Lulu slavishly imitated black singers and morphed themselves into big international careers, followed by Lisa Stansfield and countless others. I wonder just what that really means...

Da Big Apple, Da Final Day

Our final day in the Big Apple was another sweltering one. We hopped on the subway after our morning coffee and made our way to the World Trade Center and paid our respects and said a prayer, and then ventured to the South Street Seaport, to look at the ships, shops and the Brooklyn Bridge. Maybe we'll walk across it next time! From there it was a record shop hunt in Greenwich Village that yielded no new goodies, a visit to Starbucks and the best White Chocolate Frappacino I've ever tasted, courtesy of superb barrista, Shavon (that girl gets a commendation!) before a quick chow down on some chicken tenders and wings at a decent fast food chicken house.

We met Kim Sullivan, a longtime friend from Oakland who relocated back to NYC recently, in the Milford Plaza lobby. It was wonderful to see Miss Kim. She looks as pretty as ever and kept us laughing as we journeyed to MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). Once there, it was like having our own personal docent, as she regaled us with fascinating tidbits about the various artists and their work, with plenty of conversational sidetrips catching us up on mutual acquaintances and friends. After doing MOMA, we rested in their sculpture garden and took advantage of the great photo ops there.

Too soon, it was time for us to return to our hotel and Kim to go visit her Mom. It just reminded us of how much we miss Kim, and what a treat it was to be able to spend time with her in NYC.

That evening we saw August Wilson's final play, the 10th in a 10 play cycle, "Radio Golf," with Harry Lennix and a glowing if underused Tonya Pinkins (hadn't see her since "Caroline, Or Change"). It started slow and stodgy but turned out to be moving and poignant, sparking thoughts about politics, ambition and the nature of friendship.

Still no meat strombolis at Ray's, so we settled for a big slice of pizza and a meatball roll each (delicioso!) and stopped at the deli for two more slabs of cheesecake. Sated in every way, our senses bludgeoned to the max, we packed our bags and fell asleep easily.

Saturday morning our car arrived a bit early and we got to the airport two hours ahead of our departure time, only to learn our flight time had been changed to two hours earlier and we were told was already gone! The next plane to Oakland was scheduled for 4 PM. We were frustrated and tensed out, but we waited in line for the ticket agent, who, after chastising us for not printing out our boarding passes on the nearby machines (who knew?), told us the plane was late and if we ran, we just might make it, even if our luggage did not.

It was like a scene out of the Keystone Kops as we raced across the airport, through security, hopped on a shuttle and made it to the Gate to wait in line 20 minutes before boarding. When we got to Oakland (an hour early, mind you), our luggage arrived with us.

We had to go see Kevin Costner's serial killer "Mr. Brook" to celebrate. It was excellent.

And, way too soon, our summer adventure was over, and I was back to work, trying to make some dollars for the next trip...

NYC, DAY 3

Day Three in the Big Apple started out with a brisk walk in the sweltering heat to Times Square for coffee and internet at our favorite coffee shop before heading to the subway to journey uptown to see the Metropolitan Museum. We stood outside the subway entrance, enjoying our coffee and the unending entertainment provided by the people rushing by. When I was entering the subway turnstile, I swiped my Metro Card in the card reader and a kid came pushing behind and past me, attempting to enter the underground system by using my card swipe. Alas, it didn't work, despite his yelled commands for me to "Swipe it again! Swipe it again!" A little shaken, Lamarr and I went back upstairs to walk around Times Square for twenty minutes until the card readers would accept my card again.

Transit drama seemingly behind us, we proceeded to Harlem so Lamarr could purchase some shoes he had his eye on yesterday. Shoes in hand, we got back on the (wrong) train, got off past our stop because it was an Express, got back on the same train going in the opposite direction, realized we were on the wrong train altogether and were pleasantly surprised to find several native New Yorkers more than willing and happy to help us find our way to the Met. They were so nice! In fact, other than our hotel desk clerks, everyone we dealt with in NYC was extraordinarily warm and friendly. However, next time I will remember to put on my bifocals when I am trip-planning!

The Met was jam packed with folks, some on their lunch hours escaping the heat, others enroute to lunch in the adjacent Central Park. I love the Met. We spent most of our time in the Egyptian exhibit. I don't know why old Egyptian artifacts, mummies, etc. fascinate me so, but they do. We had a ball exploring those rooms and playing around in the temple by the reflecting pool, taking photos and me playing Hercules Unchained with the temple pillars. Some Japanese tourists were so amused by my clowning, they had me take photos of them pretending to push the temple down!

Lunch was at a spot in Times Square named Ruby Foo, recommended by my friend, Saundra Henry. She especially touted the shrimp and lobster egg rolls, which were good. We also ordered a gang of sushi for our big food splurge of the trip. Ruby Foo had a marvelous atmosphere, all reds and golds and Buddhas and triphop playing in the background. It was expensive but decent, and a welcome respite from the midday heat. They were filming a rap video outside the curtained windows which we snuck peeks at from time to time.

That evening we made it to Broadway to see our girl, Fantasia Barrino, starring in Oprah Winfrey's production of one of my all time favorite books and movies, the musical version of "The Color Purple." Fantasia can act! The play was phenomenal, moving, rousing and tear-inducing. Hey! I'll cry if I want to! Highly recommended to anyone visiting NYC or in the Bay Area when the play comes here next season.

After the show we walked over to Rockefeller Center and viewed the September 11 photo memorial projected on the side of a building as well as the golden statue adorning what in winter is the ice rink, but in summer is an alfresco dining spot. From there we headed back to our favorite, Ray's Pizza, for strombolis, but they were sold out of the sandwiches, so we opted for popcorn shrimp and hot pastrami from the deli near there. Back at the hotel, we happily devoured our late supper and fell asleep, getting our rest for our last day in Manhattan.

New York City, Day 2

Okay, back to the summer vacation. I got a little side-tracked by the here and now. So, Day 2, New York City, steamin' hot, low 90s, lotsa walkin' and subway ridin'. First stop, Harlem, for breakfast at Sylvia's (fried chicken and eggs with their famous biscuits; I give it a solid B, good breakfast, unremarkable biscuits) and then sightseeing (Apollo) and clothes-shopping, primarily at Modells, where both of us found a lot to add to our closets.

Next stop, Canal Street and Chinatown, where we strolled around, window shopping, buying $5 "designer" shades and an extra piece of luggage which was badly needed for the return flight. From there it was back uptown to the Guggenheim, which is undergoing a facelift which rendered the incredible outside of the building unviewable and an indoor renovation that had most of the gallery space empty. They did have a disco dance floor installed, and we had fun dancing around there and taking photos.

That night we saw "Bill W and Doctor Bob," an off-Broadway play held at New Stages West, a former cineplex now home to theatres and party spaces. "Altar Boyz" and "Naked Boys Singing" were also being done there, as well as a record release party for r&b starlet, Rihanna. Her new record sounded great!

"Bill W and Doctor Bob" was wonderful, a faithful and dramatic retelling of events in the Big Book, with some focus on the wives, Lois and Ann, and the seed planted with them that eventually flowered into Alanon. It was moving and potent, with outstanding performances all around. I'm sure they had to mop the area around my first row seat as my tears flowed with true copiousness!

WITH NO ONE AS WITNESS

Elizabeth George writes excellent mysteries and this is the best one I've read yet. It follows two London police detectives, Lynley and Havers, as they track down a serial killer, and George turns a seemingly routine thriller plot into a stunning tour de force that had me fighting back tears in the last few chapters. I just learned that PBS has done some shows featuring the two detectives. I'm curious to see how tv does these outstanding characters, so richly detailed that they seem real people. Highest recommendation.

ERYKAH BADU AT HARMONY FESTIVAL/CAR ACCIDENT

We travelled up to Santa Rosa to the Harmony Festival on Saturday to see Erykah Badu. The Harmony Festival is an annual three day event where aging hippies and new jack hippies come together for three days of music, camaraderie, a lot of weed and psychedelic ingestion, tribal dances, tons of new age vendors and some outstanding live music on several stages. The crowd was colorful and off the chain in their apparel choices and they kept us entertained as we walked around the Sonoma County Fairgrounds where the festival was held. We even got to see pop folk jazz chanteuse Rickie Lee Jones sing the last song of her set, and she looked and sounded terrific.

Erykah Badu is one of the finest singers, songwriters and performers we have working today, and she enthralled the crowd with a 90 minute set which opened with a new song, the anthemic "Hip Hop Is...," and continued on through career highlights like "On and On," a poignant "Other Side of the Game," a surprising "Green Eyes" and "Penitentiary Philosophy," a rousing old school hip hop medley ranging from Slick Rick to Grandmaster Flash, and including crowd pleasing turns on her hits, "Tyrone" and "Love of My Life." She came right into the audience and has us singing with her on "Bag Lady," and she held the microphone right in front of Lamarr as he sang along with her. Now that was a thrilling moment - the first collaboration between Skarlo Paine and Erykah Badu. Out of this world!

Unfortunately, minutes after leaving the parking lot enroute to the freeway, a teenager ran a red light and smashed into my silver Saturn, rendering it possibly totalled. Thank God for my sister Cathy, who lives in Santa Rosa, and came and got us, and the wonderful police officers who aided us, as well as the four (!!) witnesses who stayed to give statements backing us up. We'll need them as the kid is claiming his light was green, not ours. I remembered this morning to thank my Higher Power for this experience, even though it feels awful. I don't know where it is leading and I'm keeping faith.

Gratitude. Now that's a concept Erykah Badu would definitely agree with.

BOTTOMS

There are as many ways to reach your bottom as there are people to reach them. And there are many different kinds of bottoms. Speaking from experience. Losing my job, car, housing, friends, family, self-respect, dignity, all sense of ease and even belonging in the world over and over again were not enough until I'd had enough.

And when I was ready, it was on.

Didn't realize I would continue to reach bottoms in areas of my life that had to do with my thinking and attendant behaviors, and it has taken me years to understand that bottoms are gifts.

I'm just sayin'...

NEW YORK CITY: DAY ONE

The Peter Pan Bonanza Bus ride to New York City took about five hours and deposited us at the Port Authority, which was .2 miles from our hotel, The Best Western Convention Center. That translated into six long New York city blocks in humid, sweltering 90 degrees plus heat with multiple pieces of luggage. But we eventually made it to the hotel. Good thing, because we would be making that trek quite a few times over the next four madcap, fast-paced days.

The less said about our hotel, the better. If you want to read about our lodging experience, you can find more info here:

http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g60763-d235228-r7751297-Best_Western_Convention_Center_Hotel-New_York_City_New_York.html

As soon as we'd changed, it was out the door and to Times Square, minds reeling from all the people and electronic stimuli. We were on a mission to find Ray's Pizza and mangia mangia some of their awesome strombolis and meatball rolls. Somehow we found it in the midst of all the mayhem and chowed down on our best New York City meal. We love Ray's Pizza. We stopped in there twice more, both times after the theatre, and they were already sold out of their amazing meat strombolis. You know what that means! We have to go back to New York City!

We stopped for a photo op at the Brill Building, 1619 Broadway, where most of the classic girl group songs I love so much were composed by songwriters like Ellie Greenwich, Jeff Barry, Barry Mann, Mark Barkan, Artie Wayne, Ben Raleigh, etc. As I posed at the door, a mother and daughter walked by and the mother realized what I was doing and gave me a huge grin. I knew she understood.

That night we rode the subway down to Chelsea and hiked around that area. It was our first time there and we loved it. It's where the boys are, for sure, and the nightclubs and restaurants were jam packed. Next we hit Greenwich Village, which was not as seedy as it was last visit (2004) but has yet to reclaim its glory days as the center of Big Apple gay life, but is picturesque in its own faded way.

Exhausted, we trudged back to the hotel with a snack for a good night's sleep, looking forward to Day Two.

Two Days in Cape Cod

So there we were, catching a jetblue redeye into Boston enroute to Cape Cod, the first visit for both of us. Our hosts, Linda and Michael Gillespie, had been inviting us for several years and I couldn't turn down the $99 airfare, so I figured this must be a sign: time to go to Cape Cod! And, as long as we're so close, a few days in Manhattan would be just the ticket.

We arrived in Boston just in time to catch the P&B bus to Barnstable, which would have been perfect except that we missed our stop and got off in Hayannis instead and had to grab a taxi back to it. Michael G was there waiting for us in all his glory and, after picking up a Dunkin Donuts coffee (why is their coffee so highly rated? beats me!), he gave us a wonderful introductory tour of his area of the Cape in all its beaches and ocean grandeur. We when escorted to their house, an amazingly outfitted two story Cape Cod original, complete with sun porch, gazebo, deck and perfect little touches inside and out.

After a wonderful lunch on the beach at Hemisphere, joined by Mike's wife, Linda, and his delightful sister, Susan, we took a healthy hike to a lookout point called The Knob where the views were fantastic. Mike had been telling me for years of his gourmet talents, and at lobster dinner, his claims turned out to be understatement! What a fabulous meal. Two of their friends from volunteering in an AIDS organization were at dinner, also, and they were very interesting. Linda's apple pie and Mike's outrageous carrot cake were irresistible.

That night, Mike let Lamarr and I take one of their cars and drive to Provincetown, or P-Town as it is known to locals. The drive took about an hour and suddenly there we were in the middle of countless blocks of (mostly) gay men and women carousing and enjoying life. P-Town was awesome. It makes San Francisco's Castro Street look like a one-horse rest stop!

The next morning Mike and Linda prepared a delicious brunch, complete with crab and swiss omelette roll, fresh fruit and blueberry muffins. Post-brunch, Mike and I watched a video of Lesley Gore (a shared musical passion) singing "A Lot of Livin' to Do" and "When Sunny Gets Blue" on a 1967 Mike Douglas Show, which I loved. A trip to Chatham and a picturesque lighthouse on the beach followed, before taking in the film "Waitress" (okay) and going to Frostys for yet another scrumptious repast, this time lobster rolls and fish and chips. Mike went home and Lamarr, Linda, Susan and I went to Sundae School for homemade ice cream.

That night we just hung out and talked up a storm as we all had to get up early, them for work and us for the bus ride to NYC.

Wonderful whirlwind Cape Cod adventure! We loved it and we will be back!

Jim Allio and Lamarr Standberry On Vacation

Hard to believe just a week ago at this time Lamarr and I were walking around Manhattan. We had a marvelous vacation in Cape Cod with the Gillespies and in the Big Apple seeing Broadway and off-Broadway plays, eating Rays Pizza strombolis and meatball rolls along with other deliciosities, shopping and walking all over that crazy town! More to come...

This photo is from the Guggenheim Museum across from Central Park. The museum is undergoing renovation and the art installations were skimpy, except for this crazy disco dance floor where you could dance to 50 Cent and take pictures. That was fun!