Cable's Out, Kill Me Now

The danger of having both cable TV and a cable modem is obvious. When the cable goes out, the information deprivation is downright dangerous.

After several hours of intense boredom last night (arranging all my pocket change to be heads up, alphabetizing those little cards that fall out of magazines and playing with the baby) I realized that I could watch TV if I really wanted to. I had a Netflix DVD sitting on the shelf that had been there for months. I'd put off watching Million Dollar Baby because of a friend's warning that she couldn't eat or sleep for a week after seeing the movie. But last night, in an act of true desperation, I finally gave in.

Now that I've seen it, I understand why it won all those Academy Awards. That being said, Million Dollar Baby is the worst, the worst, movie I have ever seen. What kind of sick bastard would make a movie like that? I remember watching Born on the Fourth of July, and feeling physically ill. That is story of pain and anguish. And it's a true story! What I can't believe is that someone would dream up a story like the one told in Million Dollar Baby. It's just sick. Get out the Prozac.

Like I said. I had been warned. But as I'm watching the movie, I'm thinking, "OK, there's obviously a twist coming, but how bad could it be?" I've seen Rocky IV like 17 times and I never got upset when Apollo Creed went down. (However, I'll admit to being mildly upset with Mr. T for years after watching him beat down Burgess Meredith in Rocky III.) But none of that prepared me for the shocker in Million Dollar Baby. Maybe it's because I'd been television and Internet deprived for several hours so the moving pictures had that much more impact. But as the credits rolled, I just wanted to kill myself. Or better yet, have someone sneak into my room and do it for me.

I Still Hate Cell Phones

I've ranted before on why I hate cell phones. But I failed to mention the most odius aspect of cellphone use: cellphones with musical ringtones.

I attended a very solemn and beautiful funeral service today for a musician who passed away after a long and courageous battle with cancer. After a moving and well-delivered eulogy, it was announced that the assembled would hear a special musical selection -- one with particular meaning to the deceased and his family. But in the moment immediately before the piano sonata could be begin, a cell phone rang out in what sounded like the opening strands of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." It would have been shameful enough for someone's cellphone to ring, beep or buzz at that moment. But to have such an infelicitous song blare throughout a memorial service was just deplorable.

I can understand in a roomful of over a hundred people, that one person can be moronic enough not to turn off their ringer altogether. I'll admit to being that moron at least once -- thankfully not during a funeral! This is why I almost always leave my own cell phone on vibrate. Even if it's in my jacket pocket, or across the room on a table, I can usually hear the vibration without anyone else even noticing. When my phone isn't on vibrate, the ring is set to a single beep. This is enough of an alert for me to either answer or silence my phone.

So why do people insist on using such irritating songs on their cell phones? You'd think the potential humiliation of a circumstance like what happened at today's funeral would be enough of a deterrent as people selected their ringtones. Do you think that this particular perpetrator went home and changed his or her cellphone ring to the "standard ring" or even something like "Just a Closer Walk with Thee?" I doubt it.

Any time a companion of mine has a cell phone that starts ringing out some ridiculous melody, I ask, "What's the point?" The answer is usually something lame like, "So I can tell my cell phone ring apart from everyone else's." I don't buy this one for a second. Like you can't tell if the ring is coming from your pocket or across the room? Please.

What I do know is that people, even though they may not admit it, very carefully select their cellphone ringtone as a personal statement of who they are. "I listened to Mozart once in college -- or maybe it was Vivaldi." "The seventh inning stretch is my favorite part of going to a hockey game." Or, "I'm a girl who just wants to have fun and I know how to program my ringtone." Hey, guess what. No one cares.

Baseball: The Ultimate Equalizer

FROM SATURDAY'S WALL STREET JOURNAL

The Replacements
With a crop of top conductors out sick, lesser-known young maestros are getting a chance at the spotlight

By JACOB HALE RUSSELL
March 25, 2006; Page P3

It's happening in Pittsburgh. It's been a problem in Boston, too. And now it's hit Baltimore: Conductors at some of the nation's top orchestras are out sick.

The orchestra world is struggling with some big headaches lately, from declining attendance to mounting deficits. But headed into the season's home stretch, there's another problem: out-of-commission conductors. Among the no-shows are James Levine at the Boston Symphony Orchestra and the Metropolitan Opera (torn rotator cuff), Seiji Ozawa of the Vienna State Opera (shingles) and the London Philharmonic Orchestra star Kurt Masur, who bowed out of this spring's major U.S. tour (heart palpitations, suspected viral infection).

"This has been fairly unusual to have this many conductors all at once having to cancel their dates," says Jeremy Rothman, artistic administrator of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, which recently had to find a month's worth of replacements when its star conductor went on bereavement leave. "It's like the disabled list for a baseball team."

The absences have been disappointing for fans, who've paid up to $100 to see stars like Mr. Masur and Mr. Levine. They've also been inconvenient for orchestra managers, who've been scrambling to fill the empty conductor slots on their schedules.

But this spate of sick conductors is also shaking up the classical music world in a surprising way. A group of lesser-known conductors -- many in their 20s or early 30s -- are being tapped as substitutes. That's giving these young maestros an unexpected moment in the spotlight -- and could end up reshaping orchestras in years to come.

Many orchestras are in a time of transition now, with conducting spots opening up at about 20 symphonies around the country, according to the American Symphony Orchestra League. These include some of the most-watched posts in the classical music world, including conductors at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington D.C. and soon the New York Philharmonic. Other top-tier orchestras in cities like Nashville, Dallas and Detroit are also seeking new maestros.

These searches come at a time that some in the orchestra world say is ripe for a new model of conductor; in the past few years, younger conductors -- and often Americans -- have increasingly risen to prominence in a European-dominated field. As they seek to attract a wider and younger audience base, orchestras value conductors who can connect with concertgoers, rather than remaining aloof.

Some of the biggest names in classical music history, such as Arturo Toscanini and Leonard Bernstein, were discovered when they subbed in for ailing conductors. Now a new generation of conductors is benefiting from crucial exposure at a key moment for orchestras. One of them is 26-year-old American James Gaffigan, an assistant conductor at the Cleveland Orchestra. Usually, his job responsibilities include conducting youth concerts and sitting in the wings during performances in case anything happens to the conductor.

But in January, when Franz Welser-Möst, the orchestra's music director, was bedridden with an ear infection, Mr. Gaffigan ended up leading what many consider the country's best orchestra in one of the biggest symphonic works, Beethoven's Fifth, and the world premiere of a major living composer, Marc-André Dalbavie.

"It's a weird job in that respect," Mr. Gaffigan says, "We're waiting for people to go down. You don't wish any harm on people, but some good things come out of bad things." Though Mr. Gaffigan has occasionally conducted subscription concerts for Cleveland, the Beethoven symphony is normally reserved for well-established music directors. Positive reviews paid off with other gigs, like subbing on Mozart's 250th birthday for a special concert at the Kansas City Symphony.

Mr. Gaffigan will also conduct La Bohème at the Zurich Opera in May. He became known at that opera house last summer, when he filled in for Mr. Welser-Möst, who was himself called in after the scheduled conductor, Marcello Viotti, suddenly died.

Even for somewhat more established young conductors, guest conducting can send a career forward several years, providing the chance to work with the best musicians -- and be heard by the best reviewers. When Bernard Haitink cancelled at the Berlin Philharmonic last month due to injury, the American conductor Alan Gilbert, who leads the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra and the Santa Fe Opera, got his debut at what many consider the world's most prestigious orchestra. This led to top reviews, and some music world observers say that Mr. Gilbert, already rumored to be in the running for the top spot at the New York Philharmonic, got a big boost from his Berlin performance.

This month's big discovery might be Ludovic Morlot, a French assistant conductor in Boston. He substituted for Christoph von Dohnányi at the New York Philharmonic, earning accolades from important critics. As a result of his success there, Mr. Rothman called Mr. Morlot to Baltimore, where he again received rave reviews in a concert that included pianist Emanuel Ax.

Joseph Kluger, former president of the Philadelphia Orchestra and now a consultant on the arts at AEA Consulting, says audiences, critics and musicians often give the "benefit of the doubt" to replacements. "There's a hero-worship aspect of it," he says. "It adds an element of drama to something that could otherwise be routine."

To be sure, with orchestra seasons lasting from fall to spring -- and spanning flu season -- it's not unusual for conductors to call in sick and managers to scramble for replacements. Top conductors have packed schedules that involve jetting back and forth internationally, either with their own orchestra on tour or guest conducting, which makes the job exhausting.

But what has made March unusual is the large number of simultaneous high-profile absences at major symphonies, as well as the several-month-long absence for Mr. Levine, who is one of the world's most famous (and highly paid) conductors and heads both Boston Symphony Orchestra and the Metropolitan Opera, two of the most prominent classical-music organizations.

Artistic administrators aren't always able to find someone like Mr. Morlot waiting in the wings. When Robert Spano had to cancel a guest appearance at the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra this month, the orchestra had to call off its premiere of a composition by contemporary classical composer John Adams -- because they couldn't find someone else familiar with the complex piece. Baltimore had to nix a piece by Armenian composer Richard Yardumian for the same reason.

Conductor cancellations can cause serious problems for symphonies, as artistic directors are forced to scramble to find replacements in a game of musical chairs. "You find yourself sitting at your desk making phone calls to Europe, catching people on their cellphones, finding people in all kinds of unusual locations," says Baltimore's Mr. Rothman. "There's lots of work that you normally have 18 months lead time to figure out."

Pittsburgh and Baltimore have taken the unusual step of turning to concertmasters (the orchestra's lead violinist) to conduct some concerts -- in one case while still playing the violin. And Anne-Sophie Mutter, a top violin soloist, conducted Mozart pieces she herself was playing at Lincoln Center.

For orchestras, the stress of last-minute replacements could actually result in a modest financial gain. Conductors are paid on a per-concert basis and lose that fee when they cancel, and the replacements are usually cheaper than the stars who call in sick.

Audiences aren't usually allowed refunds for cancellations, though at most orchestras it's as much the repertoire and musicians who are the draw, and the chance to see the debut of a younger conductor can be exciting for some. But it's uncertain what impact a longer absence -- like Mr. Levine's -- could have on organizations like the Boston Symphony Orchestra and the Metropolitan Opera, which heavily depend on Mr. Levine's high profile for their financial well-being.

Nice Haircut!

My three-month-old son's newborn hair continues to fall out a few fine strands at a time. A soft downy fuzz is all that's left underneath. Hopefully, within a few months, that short fuzz will sprout into thick a head of baby hair. That will mean only one thing: baby's first haircut. He won't like it. Not one bit. I don't think any babies like getting their haircut. Which means we have something in common. I don't like getting my haircut either.

I've probably had my haircut nearly 300 times in my life. Wow, that's a lot of time sitting still in one of those vinyl chairs. I've probably had my seat cranked like seventeen miles up in the air. Despite all that experience and added height, haircuts still stress me out.

First of all, finding a barber who understands the shape of my head and is brave enough to tackle my wiry hair is the hardest part. Once I've found someone worthy of that trust, I stay pretty loyal. In fact, I've only ever had three people in my life that I've trusted with my hair. Okay, maybe it's not loyalty so much as avoidance of hassle. You see, the first time I sit in any barber's chair I have to put up with all the obnoxious comments and questions about my hair. You'd think barbers that want my business -- or at least a decent tip -- would be a bit more diplomatic. But I know that once they get it out of their system, I won't ever have to hear it again. This is why if they do a half-decent job I'll go back to them again and again.

This isn't to say that only three people have ever cut my hair. I've experimented with a few others over time. This was usually a circumstance of being away from home and in desperate need of a trim. My most unusual experience was getting my hair cut by a guy covered in tattoos and poked full of holes. This made really me nervous. I know it shouldn't have. I wasn't afraid he'd do a bad job. But if he had so few qualms about mutilating his own body, should I have trusted him with scissors?

The other thing that gets me worked up is that big silly bib. Do they have to put it on so tightly around my neck? And how many other people's hair and dandruff is all over those things? And once it's on, where am I supposed to put my hands? Do I have to leave them on the armrests and keep them visible? If I fold my hands in my lap under the bib, will people assume I'm playing with myself under there?

I hate watching my hair as it gets cut. As the barber shortens up the one side of my head first, I always wonder what would happen is the fire alarm went off at that very moment. Would I have to run out onto the street wearing that bib with my hair short on one side and long on the other? What if it's a real fire and the place is burning to the ground? (That jar full of combs soaking in alcohol would surely be an accelerant in such a blaze.) Then, would my barber finish my haircut on the street, or would I be left for days with an uneven coif?

If I'm lucky enough to make it all the way through without a fire alarm, why is it that when the barber finishes, it looks like nothing changed? Then when I get home and look in the mirror, I'm shocked by the dramatic alteration to my looks. I guess it's like watching yourself gain weight. It happens gradually enough that you don't notice it until you look at a picture of yourself from college when you were thinner (and had a better haircut).

Once I'm home from my haircut, the first thing I have to do is get in the shower. I just can't stand that itchy feeling around my neck, down my back and in my nevermind. Whoever thought that tiny little brush with a wooden handle would sweep away all the excess hair? I once went to a barber where they vacuumed the hair off! That hickey left me with some awkward explaining to do.

Of course, in that first post-haircut shower I always use way too much shampoo. Over the past month, as my hair had been growing longer and longer, I would have been gradually amplifying the amount of shampoo per shower. Now, with a shorter do, I'm left with handfuls of wasteful lather! It usually takes me a week to get back to an acceptable shampoo-hair equilibrium.

Getting out of the shower, I can never get my hair back the way I want it. I'm never totally satisfied with my haircuts. For me, the sign of a really good haircut, is one that draws the fewest comments. Because what I hate most about getting my ears lowered are the comments I must endure the next day.

"Oh, you got your haircut!"
"Hey, look, a haircut!"
"Gee, did you get your haircut?"

As if I hadn't noticed that I got my hair cut. Like I didn't sit there for 30 minutes making mindless small talk while watching the guy do it. Yes, I paid for it and everything. I even left a tip, albeit not a very good one. Hey, I was out of singles and no way I'm leaving a five spot.

But then again, if people aren't making any comments, is that because it looks terrible and they're just being polite by not saying anything?

So when my son gets into the barber's chair for the very first time and starts crying, I'll understand why.

New Classic Tradition Breakout

Does it bother anyone else that the international baseball tournament that started this year is called the World Baseball Classic? How can it be "classic" when it is brand new? It's like when I flipped by ESPN Classic the other day and they were showing a live college basketball game. The station logo on the top corner of the screen actually said "ESPN Classic Live." Talk about a disruption in the space-time continuum. It was like watching the end of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey -- only with more dialogue. Ironically, the game wasn't very good.