My summer reading list

Following in the footsteps of President Obama, I’ve decided to release my own summer reading list. Or at least, the cream of the crop; I won’t bore you with the whole roster.

“The Given Day,” Dennis Lehane: I was kind of miffed with Lehane when this came out, and so I didn’t buy it. I’ve since gotten over whatever ridiculous reason I had for boycotting him, and picked this up for a dollar at a roadside fruit stand in the mountains of North Carolina over the Fourth of July weekend. At more than 700 pages, that’s amounted to quite a bargain! This is an absorbing, sprawling epic about blue-collar cops, insurrectionists, love, murder and Babe Ruth in post-WWI Boston. It sucked me in and held my attention to the very last page.

“Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships,” Christopher Ryan, Cacilda Jetha: A meticulously researched, cleverly written, fascinating look at sexual and mating customs, especially as it pertains to “pair-bonding,” i.e., the one-man/one-woman model of mating for life.

“A Drop of the Hard Stuff,” Lawrence Block: After Block expressed doubts about ever writing another full-length novel in the pages of Newsweek a couple of years back, I was pleasantly surprised to learn of a new Matthew Scudder novel. Scudder’s a thoughtful, relatable take on the hard-boiled P.I., and many of his adventures rank among my all-time favorite mystery/thrillers. (Block’s Scudder novels are worth seeking out for their gritty, pulpy titles alone: A Time to Murder and Create, When the Sacred Ginmill Closes, A Walk Among the Tombstones, A Ticket to the Boneyard, A Long Line of Dead Men, Eight Million Ways to Die–the latter was made into a movie with Jeff Bridges and Rosanna Arquette). This entry, which takes place earlier in Scudder’s timeline, is kind of slow-moving, but as comfortable as an old fedora–until things start getting real.

“A Game of Thrones,” George R.R. Martin: I wish I’d read this years ago, back when it was first recommended by a friend. Having enjoyed the HBO series so much, it’s hard to enjoy this as its own work. Many of the characters and settings are already set in my head, and knowing much of what’s coming keeps me at a bit of a remove, which makes it hard to appreciate the writing. Still, I recommend it, especially if you haven’t seen the superlative HBO version yet.

“God: A Biography,” Jack Miles: Haven’t finished this yet, but so far it’s an intriguing attempt to look at God as a flawed, ambiguous, contradictory character: “the protagonist of the world’s greatest book,” as the jacket copy says.

Your turn. Read any good books lately?

Posted in Geek Alert, Just Sayin', Reading Room | 1 Comment

The L-word

We’ve all grossly mangled song lyrics, right? Of course we have. My friend Patrick spent years believing ELO’s “Evil Woman” was actually called “He Is A Woman,”while my mother-in-law went the other way, translating Aerosmith’s “Dude (Looks Like A Lady)” as “Do the Funky Lady.”

My mother-in-law seems to receive naughty instructions via song lyrics more often than most. She also famously interpreted the chorus to EU’s catchy ’80s dance number “Da Butt” not as “Doin’ da butt,” which is questionable enough, but as the rather frank directive “Do it in the butt,” causing my wife to shriek when she heard her mom singing those words aloud. Spike Lee, who introduced us all to the song in his sophomore effort School Daze, has a lot to answer for at my in-laws’ house.

It’s not news that the funniest misinterpretations come when we inadvertently assign sexually explicit (or at least highly suggestive) meanings to songs that are actually quite innocent (except, perhaps, in the case of “Da Butt”). But my own most embarrassing incident involving misconstrued lyrics took the exact opposite approach. Continue reading

Posted in Just Sayin', Music | 3 Comments

Re-start your engines!

So Rise of the Planet of the Apes did pretty well this weekend, nabbing the No. 1 slot at the box office and raking in an estimated $54 million as of this writing. I haven’t seen it yet, but I probably will, if only for the thrill of validating my long-held belief that James Franco is intent on bringing about the fall of humankind Continue reading

Posted in Casting Couch, Movies | Leave a comment

Less than meets the eye: Why the Transformers movies are the work of the devil

I am a child of the ’80s, and thus a fan of ’80s toys, comics and cartoons. I was a huge G.I. Joe geek well past the age when I should have been embarrassed to be caught admiring the latest Joe-related action figures at Toys R Us.

That said, boy, do I hate the Transformers. I’ve hated them since they first appeared, and over the years my hate has telescoped in size, like Optimus Ponce unfolding into his true form. Don’t get me wrong; I understand the appeal of cars and trucks turning into robots. I also understand the appeal of armies of sentient robots waging an epic interstellar battle. I’m just not sure those things should go together. Still, as long as the Transformers were confined to a cheesy, poorly animated half-hour here and a comic book I never read there, I could tolerate their existence.

That was then—before Michael Bay took a dorky line of toys and turned them into an unstoppable action-movie franchise. Before said franchise raked in enough cash to not only buy the United States’ debt to China, but to cut out the middleman and buy China outright.

Why do I hate the Transformers movies, and why should you? Let us count the ways. Continue reading

Posted in Just Sayin', Movies, Seriously? | 13 Comments

Just do it

The demon in my skin. He knows my weaknesses ... especially fried chicken.

When you’re in your early forties (what’s that? I don’t look it? Oh, thanks! You’re so sweet) and you end up spending a couple of weeks sleeping in the same house you grew up in, and you encounter people you haven’t seen in literally twenty or twenty-five years, strange things happen. You drive home in the middle of the night and a Rush song comes on the radio as you’re tooling down West Esplanade and you could swear you’re in your old Tercel and it’s not 2011 but 1986. The world that was is overlaid over the world that is, so that the ghosts of past decisions linger outside every building, things left undone and unsaid pile up at the side of the road.

That’s how I felt, anyway, during an extended trip home to New Orleans back in March, as I started to recount in my previous post.

On top of that, I felt like an imposter—or, to be kinder, an actor playing a role (the prodigal son, briefly returning home) for which I felt horribly miscast. I’m blessed to know many people who love me unconditionally, and unlucky enough to play host to a demon in my own skin who relishes pointing out how unworthy I am of such affection, and takes a sadistic delight in whispering a litany of my many failures and shortcomings at every opportunity. Continue reading

Posted in Just Sayin' | 5 Comments

How I spent my spring break

Mardi Gras Day, 2011, Metairie Louisiana. Believe it or not, this is the best photo my iPhone could take.

Dear readers: Forgive the long gap between posts: It’s been a really eventful couple of months, with lots of things to write about but, conversely, no time to write about it.

Okay, that’s not technically true: as a newly minted gentleman of leisure, I’ve found myself with plenty of time to write, but all of that time (and more) has been devoted to finishing the first draft of a novel, which is almost complete. Tonight, though, the words aren’t coming, and I think it’s because there are other words, other feelings, scratching impatiently at the backstage door, demanding the chance to tell their story.

As you probably know, whether from reading the previous post, following me on Twitter or Facebook or actually knowing me in real life, the newspaper at which I worked the last six-plus years folded its tent and went quietly into that good night back at the beginning of February. There’s a lot to say about that, of course, but I don’t think enough time has passed yet. Suffice it to say that the handwriting had been on the wall (hell, it was painted on every surface and stitched into the carpet), and that when the patient finally expired, the prevailing feeling wasn’t sadness, shock or fear—we’d had time to get used to the idea—but one of relief. The waiting, the uncertainty, the anxiety of it all were gone, and those of us affected could begin to focus on what came next. Continue reading

Posted in Just Sayin' | 3 Comments

Saying goodbye

A little bit of housekeeping today: Since there’s no digital copy of it elsewhere on the Internet, posted below is my very last column as Editor in Chief of The Sunday Paper, which ran in its current and final issue, dated Feb. 6, 2011.KFM

Dear readers, you hold in your hands the final issue of The Sunday Paper.

As many of you know, the current economic climate is not a friendly one to print publications. And although we’ve been fortunate to enjoy a wide and dedicated readership these last several years, the fiscal challenges of putting out a quality newspaper in this environment have finally taken their toll.

Saying goodbye isn’t easy, and neither is attempting to thank everyone who’s made working at The Sunday Paper the most rewarding experience of my professional life. So I’ll keep it simple and offer a humble “thank you” to Patrick Best for the opportunity of a lifetime, to Kirsten Palladino for all of her hard work and support, and to all of our editorial, production and sales staffers, as well as all of our contributors and interns, past and present—you know who you are.

But this isn’t about us, and certainly not about me. This column, this issue, this paper, is, as it has always been, about you, our readers. I have never taken you for granted, and I’ve treated the trust you placed in The Sunday Paper as sacred, something that must be earned anew each and every week. Please know that I’ve always striven to live up to that trust, to do better, to do more, to give you a newspaper that not only informs and entertains you, but is worthy of your time. It has been my absolute honor and privilege to serve you.

Don’t shed any tears for me. I’ve had a fantastic, life-changing run the last six and a half years, the last three and a half as Editor in Chief. I’ve made many great friends and met many more amazing, wonderful, talented and driven people. I couldn’t be prouder of all of them, or of the work we’ve done. I have absolutely no regrets.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for the opportunity to be a part of your lives each week. It’s been a blast. SP

Kevin Forest Moreau was Editor-in-Chief of The Sunday Paper. You can reach out to him on Twitter @KFMoreau, on Facebook (Kevin Forest Moreau), at www.islandofkevinmoreau.com or via e-mail at kevin.moreau@gmail.com.

Posted in Just Sayin' | Leave a comment

Ch-ch-changes

Change is in the air: I woke up this morning without anywhere to be, unemployed for the first time in almost seven years. I got up and got dressed, just as I always do, had breakfast, grabbed the morning paper, and began my new morning commute … down the basement steps to my home office.

Can you feel the winds of change? It’s a pretty unsettling feeling to find yourself unmoored from the job and routine you’ve enjoyed for so long. But it was comforting this morning to take stock of the world beyond my lonely little island and find that, indeed, constant change is here to stay.

Game changers: The highly touted meeting of the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Green Bay Packers in last night’s Super Bowl XLV promised to result in one of the most riveting contests in memory. Instead, the match-up between these two blue-collar teams with long and storied legacies produced one of the more ho-hum contests in the big game’s recent history.

Change the channel: The Super Bowl wasn’t the only institution looking a little long in the tooth last night. This year’s much-anticipated Super Bowl commercials were a disappointing bunch, to be sure. The Baby Darth Vader ad was cute enough, and Bud Light was good for a couple of chuckles at the gathering I attended, but by and large this was an evening of retreads rather than marketing innovation, as my esteemed colleague in blogging The Classless Chap predicted before the game had even started.

Change of perception: Meanwhile, in what seemed a promising step forward, for the first time since the “Wardrobe Malfunction” debacle of 2004, the halftime entertainment was provided not by an aging soul-funk superstar or classic rock forefather, but by the Black Eyed Peas, a modern music act that actually achieved its greatest success in this century. Unfortunately, the performance was a dud. The Peas’ prominent place in popular culture probably won’t take a hit, but millions of people got a crash course in the undeniable truth that slickly produced radio hits don’t translate well to the live stage, and that the ability to write a catchy pop hook will always take a back seat to the talent it takes to write and perform a great song designed to move audiences one soul at a time.

Change your tune: Earlier in the evening, Christina Aguilera decided to change the lyrics to The Star-Spangled Banner. She would have been better served changing up her act, toning down the showy vocal acrobatics that prompted oddsmakers to take bets on how long it would take her to finish the National Anthem. Aguilera’s catching a lot of flack for flubbing the words right now, but an over-reliance on the melismatic style (stretching a single syllable out over multiple notes) that too many singers of her generation confuse for talent has already made her a caricature.

The more things change, the more they stay the same: AOL has acquired the Huffington Post. Usually, when someone gets bought out, they become less powerful, but Arianna Huffington stands to become even more omnipresent as a result of the merger, as the freshly minted editor in chief of the Huffington Post Media Group, an umbrella that encompasses all of AOL’s content.

Leopards don’t change their spots: While Huffington expands her power base, growing into the only one-woman media brand with the potential to unseat Oprah Winfrey, Sarah and Bristol Palin seek to protect their own brands by registering their names as registered trademarks. (Is it just me, or does that feel more like the move of a woman looking to cash in while the cashing is good than that of a viable presidential candidate?)

Can you spare some change? Here at home in Atlanta, even more changes are afoot. The mayor is shutting down the controversial Red Dog narcotics squad. Creative Loafing Editor in Chief Mara Shalhoup has been named editor at the esteemed Chicago Reader.

The change-up: And then there’s talk that Jon Bon Jovi is interested in buying a stake in the Atlanta Falcons. I’m not sure whether Falcons owner Arthur Blank reached out and asked JBJ to “Lay Your Hands on Me,” if Jon will ultimately tell the Falcons to “Have A Nice Day” or instead pledge that “I’ll Be There for You.” Still, it’s entirely possible that the rocker could help the Birds ride to the Super Bowl in a “Blaze of Glory.” For the time being, skeptical fans should “Keep the Faith.”

Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes: What’s that? Those puns went down like “Bad Medicine”? Too bad, because “It’s My Life.” And from down here in the Island’s new Basement Command Center, I’m feeling pretty good about it at the moment, thanks for asking. The narrative of my life isn’t being mucked with the way Huckleberry Finn’s recently was; instead, a new chapter is being penned. And as a certain formative song from my high school years named for Huck’s best friend goes: “Always hopeful yet discontent, he knows changes aren’t permanent–but change is.”

Posted in Just Sayin', Music, Sports | Leave a comment

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame gets it right

Elected: Alice Cooper

I don’t usually pay much attention to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The whole idea just seems absurd, frankly. When I was a teenager staring up at pictures of KISS, Def Leppard and Judas Priest, I never once said to myself, “One day, I’ll be a rock god in a tuxedo playing at a formal induction ceremony to a group of stuffy media types!”

I did frequently remind myself that I needed to take down those Def Leppard pictures. I was used to the scorn my dad would direct at KISS or the Priest. (I’m not sure if he ever described either as “a bunch of crumbums,” although I wouldn’t be surprised; it’s one of his favorite phrases these days.) But that photo of Leppard frontman Joe Elliott in his sleeveless Union Jack T-shirt, ripped out of an issue of the heavy metal magazine Hit Parader, invited hoots of derision from my friends, which was another matter altogether. “Is that even a dude?” my friend Styb would ask, to which I would reply “Shut up!” Yep, I sure told him.

There are plenty of arguments against the Hall of Fame. For one thing, Halls of Fame make perfect sense for sports, since the criteria for entry—athletic achievement—is something that can be objectively measured. Continue reading

Posted in Just Sayin', Music | 1 Comment

A life lesson learned over beignets

Breakfast of champions

We’re programmed to rage against the dying of the light. You can see it in the older man quietly appreciating a lithe young woman old enough to be his granddaughter because his primal coding to procreate doesn’t come with an off switch. It’s there in the fight-or-flight reflexes of our lizard brains, in our stubborn insistence that we can climb that rickety ladder, lift that heavy load, as well as we ever could.

I was reminded of that today enjoying beignets and café au lait with my dad.

Eden and I are in New Orleans to celebrate Dad’s 75th birthday tonight. It’s a daunting undertaking. Continue reading

Posted in Just Sayin' | 1 Comment