When I was in college the first time around, I decided to major in journalism. It wasn’t, as you might suspect, because I had this burning desire to be a hard-hitting reporter. I’m no Carl Bernstein. But, I thought perhaps a journalism degree would allow me to do what I love – write – and actually make a living.
However, now that I’m back in school I’ve decided to study what I always wanted to study: creative writing. And, while that might seem impractical, I think that people should pursue what makes them happy in this life.
Recently, though, I’ve found that there is something I enjoy just as equally as fiction – poetry.
Now I know, I know. Poetry? Who the heck is going to pay me for that? Well, probably no one. I’m certainly not going to quit my day job. But, I have discovered this whole other aspect of myself, largely due to my new favorite class, Intro to Poetry.
My professor is an adorable Italian from Brooklyn who is – gasp – younger than me. But he’s also a brilliant poet, and has challenged us to write things I never would have tried on my own. This week we’re trying our hands at terza rima, the form Dante invented and used throughout his insanely long Divine Comedy.
I’m sure many of you would rather go to the symphony than sit through a lesson on fourteenth century verse. I wouldn’t do that to you, because the truth is that poetry can be a whole lot cooler than that. And you don’t have to write it to totally dig it.
There are actually lots of ways to enjoy poetry, many of them involving attractive people and adult beverages, if you like that sort of thing. And, as this is National Poetry Month (seriously) it only makes sense that I highlight a couple of local events to start you on your own personal poetry journey. Or, to just go have fun. Whatever.
Recently I went to Poetry Resurrection!, a spoken word event at The Lobby, upstairs from the Garden Restaurant in the 200 block of Central Avenue. My friend Alicia was performing, and I initially went simply to watch her piece.
Soon, I became enamored with these brave performers, trudging up to the mic to bare their souls for a bar crowd. Not all of the performers were veterans, and some of them weren’t that great but, the many who were simply blew me away. They mixed the personal with the political and beyond for a room full of people in every color, class and creed.
Who knew such passion and talent was hiding in our bay area? If this is what poetry reading is all about, I know I’m hooked. Luckily, the Lobby event is a regular Wednesday night occurrence, and usually starts around 10:30 pm. Get there early for a good seat.
If the coffeehouse scene is more to your liking though, you can check out The Globe in the 500 block of 1st Avenue North. Many of you may be familiar with owner JoEllen Schielke, the long-time host of Friday afternoon’s WMNF radio show, Art in Your Ear. Her little coffee shop is probably one of the best kept secrets in St. Petersburg. There’s a great mix of folks at The Globe, along with homemade eats and the funkiest décor in town.
Now, I admit I haven’t yet been able to check out The Globe’s occasional poetry events, but there’s one coming up that I don’t want to miss. On May 18th, at 6pm, The Globe is putting on one of their Sunday School Confessions in Poetry showcases, “S.O.S. The May Day Session” which promises to be a darn good time, if nothing else. What more do you want?
Okay, maybe there are poetry purists amongst us. Well, fine. For you there are several upcoming events hosted at USF-St. Petersburg. April 18th, the Tampa Bay Writers Network, a USF St. Pete organization designed to bring more literary culture into our lives, will host an Evening of Poetry. The event will feature Lizz Straight, a spoken word poet and fellow WMNF-er. Poets from around the community are invited, and can even share their work. You do need to audition for them, but I’m pretty sure that means just sending them a tape. Oh, and if you need a little more motivation, I believe there are cash prizes involved.
The Tampa Bay Writers Network has also been hosting a Wednesday Writers Series to highlight local writers in various genres. Last week they featured Martha Serpas a poet and professor from the University of Tampa and Gianmarc Manzione, my aforementioned professor. TBWN will host one more event this semester, and you can get more info at www.stpt.usf.edu/tbwn/
Well, enough of the shameless plug for my beloved little school. But, you’re lucky you have me to keep you updated on all this cool stuff, because yeah, poetry is cool.
However, for those of you who are easily offended, poetry events are not necessarily for you. They are almost always R-rated, can be radical, political, and even sexual. But they are an incredibly rewarding and uniquely casual way to engage in other people’s perspectives.
Verse is considered the oldest literary art form. It has documented, painted, and projected every inch of the human experience and still finds ways to evolve. You might never look at the world the same way again after seeing it through the words of a poet.
Don’t be afraid to get out there. All it takes is an open ear and an open mind.
Published in the Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 4/12/07
June 17, 2007
I’d Like to Buy the World Symphony Tickets
Lest you think that all I do is lounge in coffee shops by day and booze away at night, I will tell you that I am also an enthusiastic patron of the symphony. That’s right people, high culture.
Well, “enthusiastic patron” might be a little excessive. Okay, so maybe I’ve only been to one show this year. But, what I lack in attendance I make up for with sincerity. I actually own a CD of Beethoven’s 2nd Symphony – the very same piece the Florida Orchestra performed on the night in question. Also featured that evening was Vivaldi, who I have definitely, actually heard of.
Now I know I lost some of you at the very mention of Beethoven. Or perhaps it was Vivaldi that got you. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Lot’s of folks are scared of classical music. One look around the Mahaffey Theater the other night would tell you that just about everyone under the age of seventy had something better to do.
But frankly, I’m hoping to change all that.
People, the symphony is awesome! I’m totally serious. The Florida Orchestra may not be St. Martin in the Fields, but they’re pretty darn good for all the support they don’t get. And, in spite of our neglect, they’re ours. These world-class musicians schlep themselves from the Mahaffey to Ruth Eckerd to the Performing Arts Center over 150 times a year. They are warriors, I tell you.
So, for you yet uninitiated: what’s so great about the symphony? You don’t even have to love classical music to enjoy it. Really. Aside from the fact that all of the venues I just mentioned do have cash bars (you lushes), the Mahaffey Theater has just undergone a gorgeous, $20 million facelift. She’s been updated – dressed up in a more sophisticated style as befits a lady of her age. So, if you like architecture, there you go.
But wait – there’s more…
Apart from the Beethoven on the schedule, I mentioned a piece by Vivaldi - a duet between an oboe and bassoon. Now don’t freak out if you have no idea what those instruments are all about. They are woodwinds (the non-shiny, horn things - like that clarinet your parents made you play). They create melodious duck noises of varying pitch, and are honestly quite pleasant.
Also on stage was a wild-looking harpsichord (like a piano, only it’s skinnier and sounds like a toy) with a wild woman at the keys. Oh, she may have looked like your run-of-the-mill, middle-aged-librarian type, but once Vivaldi kicked it up a notch, she got to bopping her head and tapping her feet like the harpsichord was going out of style.
On the bassoon was none other than Mark Sforzini, a regular with the Florida Orchestra for some 14 years. But don’t let that fool you. This guy is a rock star. He was jammin’ like the Hendrix of the bassoon world – heck, of the whole woodwind world.
I admit, my feet were doing the tap-a-long.
But when I say you don’t have to love classical – or know a darn thing about it – I mean it. You do have to like it, though. Or at least be willing to give it a go. For those who think classical music is just background noise at Panera, you’ve got to see it live. You’ve got to see these virtuosos with their syncopated bows and fingers flying, the gong and drum guys wailing, and that rock-star bassoonist – it’s an incredible dance set to music that has stood up to two, three, sometimes even four hundred years of judgment. Who are we to thumb our noses?
If you don’t ever make it, it won’t be the end of the world. There will always be another crop of old folks ready to (sort of) fill the seats. But personally, I like to think of the symphony as bungee jumping for your ears. These days, it’s pretty radical. And, at the very least, you want to know what you’re missing.
So, lest you think me a hypocrite, I’ll tell you that I’ve already got a seat for next weekend. Mozart’s going to be rockin’ the house, and I can hardly wait.
You know, there might even be a few tickets left…
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 3/29/07
Well, “enthusiastic patron” might be a little excessive. Okay, so maybe I’ve only been to one show this year. But, what I lack in attendance I make up for with sincerity. I actually own a CD of Beethoven’s 2nd Symphony – the very same piece the Florida Orchestra performed on the night in question. Also featured that evening was Vivaldi, who I have definitely, actually heard of.
Now I know I lost some of you at the very mention of Beethoven. Or perhaps it was Vivaldi that got you. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Lot’s of folks are scared of classical music. One look around the Mahaffey Theater the other night would tell you that just about everyone under the age of seventy had something better to do.
But frankly, I’m hoping to change all that.
People, the symphony is awesome! I’m totally serious. The Florida Orchestra may not be St. Martin in the Fields, but they’re pretty darn good for all the support they don’t get. And, in spite of our neglect, they’re ours. These world-class musicians schlep themselves from the Mahaffey to Ruth Eckerd to the Performing Arts Center over 150 times a year. They are warriors, I tell you.
So, for you yet uninitiated: what’s so great about the symphony? You don’t even have to love classical music to enjoy it. Really. Aside from the fact that all of the venues I just mentioned do have cash bars (you lushes), the Mahaffey Theater has just undergone a gorgeous, $20 million facelift. She’s been updated – dressed up in a more sophisticated style as befits a lady of her age. So, if you like architecture, there you go.
But wait – there’s more…
Apart from the Beethoven on the schedule, I mentioned a piece by Vivaldi - a duet between an oboe and bassoon. Now don’t freak out if you have no idea what those instruments are all about. They are woodwinds (the non-shiny, horn things - like that clarinet your parents made you play). They create melodious duck noises of varying pitch, and are honestly quite pleasant.
Also on stage was a wild-looking harpsichord (like a piano, only it’s skinnier and sounds like a toy) with a wild woman at the keys. Oh, she may have looked like your run-of-the-mill, middle-aged-librarian type, but once Vivaldi kicked it up a notch, she got to bopping her head and tapping her feet like the harpsichord was going out of style.
On the bassoon was none other than Mark Sforzini, a regular with the Florida Orchestra for some 14 years. But don’t let that fool you. This guy is a rock star. He was jammin’ like the Hendrix of the bassoon world – heck, of the whole woodwind world.
I admit, my feet were doing the tap-a-long.
But when I say you don’t have to love classical – or know a darn thing about it – I mean it. You do have to like it, though. Or at least be willing to give it a go. For those who think classical music is just background noise at Panera, you’ve got to see it live. You’ve got to see these virtuosos with their syncopated bows and fingers flying, the gong and drum guys wailing, and that rock-star bassoonist – it’s an incredible dance set to music that has stood up to two, three, sometimes even four hundred years of judgment. Who are we to thumb our noses?
If you don’t ever make it, it won’t be the end of the world. There will always be another crop of old folks ready to (sort of) fill the seats. But personally, I like to think of the symphony as bungee jumping for your ears. These days, it’s pretty radical. And, at the very least, you want to know what you’re missing.
So, lest you think me a hypocrite, I’ll tell you that I’ve already got a seat for next weekend. Mozart’s going to be rockin’ the house, and I can hardly wait.
You know, there might even be a few tickets left…
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 3/29/07
Bar-hopping the Night Away
I used to party. Seriously party. I didn’t even get ready to go out until 11 pm, and then I’d drive all the way to Ybor to join the debauchery. Those days had a time and place in my life, but I don’t miss them.
Even though I’m technically a “college kid,” my weekend bedtime is not far from my school-night bedtime. A glass of wine and a rousing game of Scrabble are a good Friday night.
However, I do still have friends who have not succumbed to a life of quiet domesticity, and sometimes these friends successfully lure me out on the pretense of having “a few drinks.” Last Friday was just such a night.
I got the call, as usual, late in the evening. My friend Bryan and his band, Hey There, Battleship were playing at the Emerald Bar downtown. Did we want to go?
I said yes for several reasons, but the most important one being: I do not want to grow old before my time, a shriveled shell of my former cool self (if such a thing ever existed).
Unfortunately, I forgot to check my calendar.
As many of you know, last Friday was First Friday. In Gulfport that means Art Walk - a chilled out stroll amongst the shops and mellow bands, sipping wine and coffee until the wee hours of 10 pm. St. Pete celebrates the first Friday of the month a little differently.
What I have always called First Friday in St. Pete is actually and officially known as (I am not making this up) “Get Downtown.” As in Get down, town! Groovy, baby.
But, while the name might be a little out of style, apparently everyone and their cousin loves this chaotic block party situated between 2nd and 3rd Streets on Central Avenue. I mean, there must be a million people there. And, while the party is supposed to peter out around 10, the kids in St. Pete are just getting started.
If this sounds like your cup-o-tea, check it out. But, I warn you: parking becomes an Olympic event and you could wait up to a decade for a drink sandwiched in between Paris Hilton wannabes and their cologne-drenched counterparts.
It’s an event I usually skip, if you want to know the truth. I prefer my downtown on the down low. However, Bryan’s band was tuning up around 11, and it’s important to support local music – especially if it’s your friends.
The Emerald is a dive bar on Central Avenue, round about 6th Street. Their profile on AOL’s City Guide (which was apparently written in 1965) sums it up as a hangout for “war vets, musicians, artists, divorcees and other sundry misfits and hipsters.”
That might be true, but here’s my take on it: The Emerald is a raucous smoke den about the size of my first apartment in Boston. It’s one of the last remaining places in St. Petersburg where you don’t have to be something you’re not. When the BayWalk crowd starts to bug you, check out the Emerald.
So there I was, sipping a beer and enjoying the din after Hey There, Battleship attacked the crowd with their three-piece funk. Suddenly I found myself at one of those pivotal points in a night: should I stay or should I go now?
The answer was to go…to the Bishop Tavern on First Avenue North.
When I tell you that Get Downtown was still gettin’ down, I mean it had whipped itself into a dervish-style frenzy and apparently the Bishop was its center point. Under normal conditions, I like the Bishop. It’s comfortable with a hint of 1920s speak-easy style that makes you feel as though a much larger and older city waits outside. However, on the weekends it suddenly turns into a sardine can - only slightly less smelly. There’s even a velvet rope at the entrance which, next to St. Petersburg’s still-small town disposition simply reeks of pretension.
After a twenty minute conversation in line for the bathroom, I booked it over to Don Leoncio’s Cigar Lounge about a block up the avenue.
Ah, the smell of good cigars, big leather couches, lots of imported beer – these are a few of my favorite things, and Don Leoncio’s has them all. The place opened up maybe six months ago, and I have often felt that it’s still searching for its niche. For the record, I don’t think thumping techno and rave kids is it, but maybe Don Leo’s was just trying something new Friday night. Personally, I’d love to see a live salsa band, but that’s just me.
For the last drink of the evening, my friends and I settled into the street seating out front. With the techno a few decibels lower, I was actually able to talk with an old friend I’ve hardly seen since high school. That’s what life in the little-big city is all about.
And for the record, I didn’t hit the sack until 2:30. True story.
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 3/15/07
Even though I’m technically a “college kid,” my weekend bedtime is not far from my school-night bedtime. A glass of wine and a rousing game of Scrabble are a good Friday night.
However, I do still have friends who have not succumbed to a life of quiet domesticity, and sometimes these friends successfully lure me out on the pretense of having “a few drinks.” Last Friday was just such a night.
I got the call, as usual, late in the evening. My friend Bryan and his band, Hey There, Battleship were playing at the Emerald Bar downtown. Did we want to go?
I said yes for several reasons, but the most important one being: I do not want to grow old before my time, a shriveled shell of my former cool self (if such a thing ever existed).
Unfortunately, I forgot to check my calendar.
As many of you know, last Friday was First Friday. In Gulfport that means Art Walk - a chilled out stroll amongst the shops and mellow bands, sipping wine and coffee until the wee hours of 10 pm. St. Pete celebrates the first Friday of the month a little differently.
What I have always called First Friday in St. Pete is actually and officially known as (I am not making this up) “Get Downtown.” As in Get down, town! Groovy, baby.
But, while the name might be a little out of style, apparently everyone and their cousin loves this chaotic block party situated between 2nd and 3rd Streets on Central Avenue. I mean, there must be a million people there. And, while the party is supposed to peter out around 10, the kids in St. Pete are just getting started.
If this sounds like your cup-o-tea, check it out. But, I warn you: parking becomes an Olympic event and you could wait up to a decade for a drink sandwiched in between Paris Hilton wannabes and their cologne-drenched counterparts.
It’s an event I usually skip, if you want to know the truth. I prefer my downtown on the down low. However, Bryan’s band was tuning up around 11, and it’s important to support local music – especially if it’s your friends.
The Emerald is a dive bar on Central Avenue, round about 6th Street. Their profile on AOL’s City Guide (which was apparently written in 1965) sums it up as a hangout for “war vets, musicians, artists, divorcees and other sundry misfits and hipsters.”
That might be true, but here’s my take on it: The Emerald is a raucous smoke den about the size of my first apartment in Boston. It’s one of the last remaining places in St. Petersburg where you don’t have to be something you’re not. When the BayWalk crowd starts to bug you, check out the Emerald.
So there I was, sipping a beer and enjoying the din after Hey There, Battleship attacked the crowd with their three-piece funk. Suddenly I found myself at one of those pivotal points in a night: should I stay or should I go now?
The answer was to go…to the Bishop Tavern on First Avenue North.
When I tell you that Get Downtown was still gettin’ down, I mean it had whipped itself into a dervish-style frenzy and apparently the Bishop was its center point. Under normal conditions, I like the Bishop. It’s comfortable with a hint of 1920s speak-easy style that makes you feel as though a much larger and older city waits outside. However, on the weekends it suddenly turns into a sardine can - only slightly less smelly. There’s even a velvet rope at the entrance which, next to St. Petersburg’s still-small town disposition simply reeks of pretension.
After a twenty minute conversation in line for the bathroom, I booked it over to Don Leoncio’s Cigar Lounge about a block up the avenue.
Ah, the smell of good cigars, big leather couches, lots of imported beer – these are a few of my favorite things, and Don Leoncio’s has them all. The place opened up maybe six months ago, and I have often felt that it’s still searching for its niche. For the record, I don’t think thumping techno and rave kids is it, but maybe Don Leo’s was just trying something new Friday night. Personally, I’d love to see a live salsa band, but that’s just me.
For the last drink of the evening, my friends and I settled into the street seating out front. With the techno a few decibels lower, I was actually able to talk with an old friend I’ve hardly seen since high school. That’s what life in the little-big city is all about.
And for the record, I didn’t hit the sack until 2:30. True story.
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 3/15/07
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