Category: Uncategorized

Chanda wins her second round match at the U.S. Open, 7-5, 6-3 over Antonella Serra Zanetti. The fact she finished strong would seem to speak well about the condition of her knees.
I might be even more optimistic if she wasn’t facing Venus Williams in the third round. (Then again, Venus had to go to a tiebreaker in the first set against intriguingly named nobody Shikha Uberoi.)

Really nice interview with Mark Eitzel about the American Music Club reunion. Mark comes across as much more sane than usual.
His best line, in reference to some, er, lifestyle issues that once troubled AMC drummer Tim Mooney: “He had personal problems that made it inconvenient for him to be part of the band. Put it this way: At the time he was a close personal friend of Courtney Love.”
The new AMC album comes out next week in the U.K., but unfortunately not for another month in the States. They play the Gypsy Tea Room in Dallas on October 26.
One other bizarre Eitzel update: He provided vocals for a strange ’70s singer-songwriter parody project called Devon Shire, part of the Clubbo fake record label. Explanation of this strange situation from Paul Boutin here.
Finally, a few other Dallas-area shows worth attending in the near future: Sloan, Trees, Sept. 16; Starlight Mints, Gypsy, Oct. 1; Guided By Voices, Gypsy, Oct. 3; Gift of Gab, Trees, Oct. 6.; Ted Leo, Gypsy, Oct. 29.

Since I know you’re all dying to know how my fantasy football draft turned out last night, the answer is — pretty well, I think. The Bum Phillippi roster:
QB: Donovan McNabb
RB: LaDainian Tomlinson
RB: Rudi Johnson
RB/WR: Thomas Jones
WR: Laverneus Coles
WR: Plaxico Burress
WR/TE: Isaac Bruce
K: Adam Vinatieri
DL: Brian Urlacher
DL: Charles Grant
DB: Darren Sharper
DB: Dre Bly
D: Dwight Freeney
Bench: Amani Toomer, Roy Williams, Najeh Davenport, Byron Leftwich, Fred Thomas, Michael Pittman
(That’s Roy Williams the Detroit wide receiver, not Roy Williams the Dallas safety. Or Roy Williams the North Carolina basketball coach.)

Interesting interview with Sufjan (“SOOF-yahn”) Stevens, everyone’s favorite Christian indie rocker. I’ve already written about his tremendous Greetings From Michigan album. And while his followup didn’t do quite as much for me, he’s still a very real talent.
And he’s particularly interesting because he so thoroughly freaks out a big chunk of his cool-kid fans with his emphasis on his religious beliefs. His fan base, I would imagine, worships no gods but Pabst Blue Ribbon and Stephen Malkmus. But they like his songs about Old Testament prophets nonetheless.
“I think that when people react reflexively to material that is religious, they’re reacting to the culture of religion,” he says. “And I think an enlightened person is capable, on some level, of making the distinction between the institution of the culture and the culture itself. The institution of Christianity, the way that it’s set up, it’s institutionalized and commodified, and anytime that happens, anytime it’s incorporated, it leads to disaster. I’m on the same page as everyone. I have the same knee-jerk reaction to that kind of culture. Maybe I’m a little more empathetic to it because we have similar fundamental beliefs. But culturally and aesthetically, some of it is really embarrassing…I think it’s a fair and interesting question. Can you be a liberal, enlightened, modern person and still believe in God?”

Interesting story about Beausoleil and its leader Michael Doucet — without a doubt the most important Cajun musician of the last 20 years and a cornerstone of the Cajun cultural revival of the 1980s and 1990s. (The band’s got a new album out this month.)
He says Cajun music needs to be more about death and draws connections between Cajuns and the Roma — an interesting comparison I hadn’t thought of before.

Dallasites are hereby encouraged to join the Run Against Violence 5K Thursday evening. It’s to benefit the family of David Cunniff, victim of one of the more outrage-inducing incidents of violence Dallas has seen in years.
(He’s a dad who took his two teenaged daughters to an Old 97s concert in Deep Ellum — not exactly some anarchist punk band. Anyway, a skinhead started messing with one of his daughters, dad tried to defend her, and the skinhead bashed his head in. Now he’s paralyzed from the neck down. More here.)
Assuming I’m not detained by breaking news, I hope to be there.

Speaking of 90-something retired diplomatic correspondents: Chalmers Roberts faces death.

Today, I received what may have been my first ever request for ChandaWatch, my quarterly updates on the Grand Slam tournament progress of Chanda Rubin — world-ranked tennis star and former high school locker-neighbor of yours truly. Since I value the needs of crabwalk.com readers so highly — particularly after imposing nothing but Wilmer-Hutchins stories on you poor folks the last week or two — I accede to the public’s demands.
Chanda won her first round match with ease Tuesday, 6-2, 6-2 over the sultry Maria Sanchez Lorenzo. Chanda’s recent knee injuries have dropped her seeding to No. 20, which lines her for for a third-round battle with…Venus Williams, her ersatz Olympic doubles partner. Godspeed, Chanda.

One of the greatest men I have had the pleasure of spending time with has died at age 93. His name was Fernand Auberjonois.
I visited Fernand in his Ireland home in October 1999. At the time, I was a reporter for The (Toledo) Blade with an interest in foreign affairs. Fernand had, for decades, been The Blade’s European correspondent, based in London. But to just call him a reporter doesn’t give him his due — this man truly lived a life.
Among the things he did in his 93 years: Helped start what would become the Voice of America; helped plan the Normandy invasion; was targeted by Joe McCarthy in the 1950s; became one of Switzerland’s best-selling authors; gave French lessons to Katherine Hepburn; helped develop the theremin, the cult electronic instrument; translated John Dos Passos and befriended Walker Evans; became publishing director for Time-Life Europe; and inspired the character Odo on “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.”
Now that’s a life. And he was just the sweetest old man you could imagine. (His wife Helga is great, too.) As I’d go on various foreign adventures through the years, he’d write me little notes of encouragement.
The Fernand Auberjonois brand of foreign correspondent is largely dead now. Fernand wrote primarily about diplomacy, wearing dapper suits and interviewing powerful functionaries; modern correspondents tend more towards a more populist style. But the lesson I take from Fernand’s life is that if you’re going to have to wake up every morning, you should at least try not to be boring.
“I never had the feeling I was having a hard time then, because it was all far too interesting,” he told me back then, talking about his days living hand to mouth in New York City. “That’s what life does.”
Here’s the story I wrote about Fernand back in 2000.
Here’s an appreciation of Fernand (with pictures) written by Jack Lessenberry, another old Blado.
Here’s the obituary linked above.
In other news, tomorrow night will be the one time each year when I descend into a zen-like calm, focus my energies, and direct all thoughts to a singular goal: my annual fantasy football draft. Longtime readers may remember that two years ago, my team (the Bobby Heberts) won the league, thanks to a stirring Amani Toomer effort in the finale. Last year, my Clubfoot Dempseys fared less well, although the fact I was in Zambia for most of the season certainly played a role. (As did my burning a first-round pick on Donovan McNabb when Shaun Alexander was available.)
This year, I have poured my hopes into the Bum Phillippi. (A free cola beverage to the first reader who can figure out the three Saints references in my team names.) The cheat sheets have been constructed, the rotoreaders have been scoured, and I’m ready for battle. Gooooooo, Bum Phillippi!

I’ll be on TXCN tonight talking about Wilmer-Hutchins.