Tommy

I'd like to think I've gotten better at writing reviews that aren't quite so gushing. This will not be one of those reviews. If you've come here for a calm, level-headed appraisal of the Stratford Festival's production of Tommy you're in the wrong place.

Here's the gist: of all the hundreds and hundreds of shows I've seen, Stratford's production of Tommy is the best. You'd think I would need at least a brief gestation period of critical reflection before making that assertion--but I don't. In fact, I say it without any hesitation whatsoever. Prior to yesterday the title of "best show I've ever seen" belonged to...Tommy, and specifically the 1996 Canadian touring company that I saw in Calgary. That night, Des McAnuff and Pete Townshend's adaptation of the Who's 1969 album (I refuse to call it a "rock opera") spoke to me in a way that's seldom happened before or since; to say I left the Southern Alberta Jubilee Auditorium a changed person would actually be understating the case. I never saw McAnuff's original production of Tommy again; indeed, apart from a cringe-worthy non-Equity version that played Thunder Bay a year later I never saw the show again, period. (I have seen the Who themselves seven times since then.)

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that Des McAnuff himself would revisit Tommy twenty years later--or that he'd do it at Stratford, in the intimate confines of the Avon Theatre, and that the production would, a couple cosmetic alterations excepted, be a virtual remount of McAnuff's original version. I still can't believe it happened. The first hint at what was coming we might expect came earlier this week with the first official production still. The next hint came yesterday morning, when McAnuff, Townshend, and members of the cast appeared on Q and talked about a production of Tommy that was faithful to the original. The third came when I entered the Avon Theatre last night and saw John Arnone's distinctive floor markings poking out from under the curtain. And when the Overture started, and it became clear what was happening, I teared up. (I'm man enough to admit that I also cried during the finale. Not teared up: cried. I was crying.)

I'm not suggesting that a new staging of Tommy couldn't work. It's just that the original (which I also saw at Toronto's Elgin Theatre in 1995) meant so much to me that seeing it again was tantamount to witnessing a theatrical resurrection. I've talked about ultimate rock n' roll fantasies. I've never talked about ultimate theatre fantasies, but here they are:

1. Seeing The Phantom of the Opera again for the first time
2. Seeing Des McAnuff's original production of Tommy again

The first one might be tough, given the constraints of the time-space continuum. The second one happened last night at Stratford. Most of the changes are subtle. Some aspects of the design have been modernized--most noticeably Sean Nieuwenhuis' projections, which utilize an LED backdrop that likely didn't exist in the mid-90s. The orchestrations have been tweaked (I loved McAnuff's comment about the guitarists using plastic picks, as opposed to nylon ones, since that's what they used in the late 1960s). I noticed one minor lyrical alteration (near the end of "We're Not Gonna Take It"). That's it. Apart from those few, minor things, I saw Des McAnuff's original production of Tommy again last night. Again, I never dreamed this would happen.

(It should be noted, too, that the Stratford cast is stellar. Robert Markus is commanding in the title role, while Kira Guloien and Jeremy Kushnier excel as Tommy's parents. Paul Nolan is underutilized as Cousin Kevin, but he nails his character's titular song. "Cousin Kevin" has, for as long as I can remember, been my favourite song from Tommy. Collectively, the cast's energy overwhelms as it approaches you; "Sensation" and "Pinball Wizard" are the standouts, with Wayne Cilento recreating his original choreography. As for the ending, Townshend himself said in best: "It doesn't matter if it's Greek, the audience will stand and applaud." And it's true: last night the standing ovation started as "Listening to You" was finishing, and the entire audience was on its feet before the curtain call started. Tell me how many times you've seen that happen.)

I know this is gushing; I can assure you that I'm not on Stratford's payroll, though if that's something they'd consider I could guarantee full houses for Tommy's entire run (and that's before mentioning that I've got three more performances lined up, with more to come). Again, I didn't try and make this objective; you might see Tommy, think it's bombastic, and disregard everything else I ever write. But I loved this show more than I thought I'd be capable of loving a piece of theatre ever again. I refer you once again to my original point: if you came here for a calm, level-headed appraisal of the Stratford Festival's production of Tommy you would've been better served elsewhere. I apologize for that. But I can't apologize for gushing. As I tweeted after the show:

It's nice to know that at age thirty-two life, and theatre in particular, still has the capacity to astonish me. #sfTommy
— Stephen Johns (@snjohns) May 18, 2013

A Little Priest

I'm back--and before writing about the best show I've ever seen, how 'bout a 32-for-32 update? Again, my knee injury necessitated that I reshuffle a few items. One of the new additions, created along with Ambassador Gordo: eat a Vatican City at the Burger's Priest in Toronto. It just so happens that I'm in Toronto for the next few weeks, and today, Ambassador Gordo and I "confessed." (Full disclosure: I owed him Burger's Priest after he won our season-long bet on Leafs and Senators game. Yes, we bet on every single one of each time's forty-eight games.) Here's the visual evidence:

The Vatican City is a double cheeseburger whose "buns" are grilled cheese sandwiches. Obviously it's delicious.

The Burger's Priest is required eating, by the way. Need convincing? Here's George Hearn and Angela Lansbury performing "A Little Priest" from the musical Sweeney Todd. It's too good, at least!

Pearl Jam in State College

I've heard the Vedder Man say lots of things the thirty-three times I've seen him on stage--but one comment stands above the rest. It was uttered on Saturday, May 3, 2003 at the Bryce Jordan Center on the campus of Penn State University, and it went like this: "If you're willing to stick around, we're willing to make this the longest Pearl Jam show that's ever been played." And then he and his bandmates went ahead and did it--and the resulting concert, known simply as "State College" among the faithfull, is one of the legendary nights in the band's career.

And I was there. It went like this:

Set:

• Release
• Save You
• Animal
• Corduroy
• Cropduster
• Small Town
• Even Flow
• Grievance
• I Am Mine
• Improv #1
• Rearviewmirror
• Nothingman
• Daughter
• Highway To Hell [AC/DC] (tag)
• Another Brick in the Wall 2 [Pink Floyd] (tag)
• Lukin
• Whipping
• MFC
• Jeremy
• Improv #2
• Blood

1st Encore:

• You've Got to Hide Your Love Away [Beatles] (Ed solo)
• Gimme Some Truth [John Lennon] (Ed solo)
• Breath
• Do the Evolution
• Black
• Alive

2nd Encore:

• Last Exit
• Mankind
• Down
• Better Man
• Save It For Later [English Beat] (tag)
• Satan's Bed
• Leaving Here [High Numbers]

3rd Encore (which was extraordinary):

• Crazy Mary [Victoria Williams]
• Porch
• Fortunate Son [Creedence Clearwater Revival]
• Rockin' in the Free World [Neil Young]
• Yellow Ledbetter
• Bu$hleaguer (tag)

It wasn't as good as Buffalo--but still, this was a magical night.

Pearl Jam in Buffalo

Ten years ago today--ten years ago right now, actually--I saw what's still the best concert I've ever seen: Pearl Jam at the HSBC Arena in Buffalo. I've got a pantheon of four favourite concerts; it also includes the Who in Toronto, the finale of U2's 360° Tour, and Pearl Jam's second night in Toronto in 2006, but those three all play second fiddle to that night in Buffalo. The next day's concert, in State College, Pennsylvania (which I also attended), remains the longest show the band's ever played and, as a consequence, tends to get most of the attention...but Buffalo topped it all ends up. Aside from the concert itself I'll remember the following three things that happened immediately afterwards:

1. The audience spilling out into the arena's atrium and bursting into loud, spontaneous cheers.
2. Sherkin and our friends Patty and Daphna sitting in Patty's car, motionless and silent, for five minutes. None of us could talk. God had walked through the room that night.
3. Driving back to St. Catharines (where we crashed on Tippy's basement floor; I'm pretty sure I woke up four hours later underneath a pool table) we got stuck in traffic on the Peace Bridge. Patty's car contained only a tape player--and inexplicably the only tape she had was the Top Gun soundtrack. I think it was me who slipped it in...and as we sat on the bridge the "Top Gun Anthem" started. And so we turned up the volume and rolled down the windows and serenaded the rest of the traffic, while people in the other cars turned towards us and cheered.

The setlist remains an absolute beast:

Preset:

• You've Got to Hide Your Love Away [Beatles] (Ed solo)

Set:

• Love Boat Captain
• Brain of J.
• Hail, Hail
• Save You
• Corduroy
• Small Town
• I Got Shit
• Even Flow
• Faithfull
• Deep
• Given To Fly
• Spin the Black Circle
• Wishlist
• Green Disease
• Insignificance
• Black
• Go

1st Encore:

• Free Jazz
• Driven To Tears [Police]
• Better Man
• Crazy Mary
• Do the Evolution
• Alive (...which I hadn't heard since my first Pearl Jam concert--Buffalo was my sixth--since it hadn't been played on the band's 2000 tour in honour of the Roskilde victims)

2nd Encore:

• Soon Forget
• Smile
• Fortunate Son [Creedence Clearwater Revival]
• Sonic Reducer [Dead Boys]
• People Have The Power [Patti Smith] ("This is Nana from the heart of Buffalo!")

3rd Encore (EV: "We had a democratic vote backstage: the verdict was, 'It's Friday night--what the fuck!'")

• Baba O'Riley [Who]
• Yellow Ledbetter

But like all great concerts, Buffalo's magic can't be summarized by song titles: it was the feeling, the excitement, the sense of communion that filled the HSBC Arena that night and that threatened to push the building's ceiling off. It was the electric synergy between a band and its fans; it was the sort of night you wish you could box up and take home with you and bring out to show people whenever you're trying to explain to them why you care so deeply about rock n' roll music. I've seen Pearl Jam twenty-six times since that night in Buffalo, and most of those concerts were pretty good--but none of them have been quite as good. As long as I live I will remember this night.



(Video of "People Have The Power" courtesy the great pjvideoguy)

Southampton 2-3 Tottenham Hotspur

Will the wonders of the Internet never cease? Here's video highlights of the first-ever soccer game I attended, on August 17, 1991 at the Dell in Southampton. Tottenham Hotspur, on the strength of two goals by Gary Lineker, beat the Saints 3-2. I was there with my father and the late Mr. Chubby. It wasn't quite my first Phantom, which happened two months and a day later--but still, this was pretty seminal, not to mention a predictor of my future television viewing habits.

Heritage Posters and Music

Prior to yesterday I'd successfully avoided entering Heritage Posters and Music the entire time I'd been living in Calgary. It's not that I didn't want to enter: it's that I knew if I did I'd be in trouble. And so I practised self-denial, never once pulling off 14th Street into the parking lot abutting a wall of vinyl. I even skipped Gordie Johnson's in-store appearance.

And then yesterday I caved, and my worst fear--namely, that Heritage Posters and Music has the ability to bankrupt me--was confirmed.

The purpose in entering was to get this...

...framed, which I did do (the finished product is gonna look spectacular). The issue, of course, is that I've got four other Pearl Jam and Soundgarden posters to frame...and those are just the ones here in Calgary (I literally don't know how many fancy Pearl Jam posters are underneath my bed in Toronto). The other issue is that Heritage is full of posters and CDs and vinyl, and next Saturday--Record Store Day, people!--it's all going to heavily discounted. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship...although I fear my wallet may disagree. Thank goodness I've still got a cryocuff anchoring me to my living room couch.

Discovering My Inner Jew

"Discovering my inner Jew" is a book title waiting to happen--and if I'm ever able to convincingly demonstrate that the Olsen family's descended from secret Semitic stock I'll start sending proposals out to publishing companies. In the meantime, the work continues at the Casa de Johns--and after a few promising leads I've begun running up against a wall.

See, for instance, the letter I sent to a Borschow in El Paso that's gone unanswered. See also the second letter I sent to the synagogue; it was answered, but the response just generated more questions.

There have been a couple different Borschow families that have been members of Temple Mount Sinai. I'm not sure what you are asking for. Please provide further details. Thank you.

Ah, but there's the rub: I don't know what I'm asking for. I guess what I'm wondering is when the Borschow name started popping up in America--in Texas, in Pennsylvania, at Ellis Island. Or even in Canada, for that matter: I've found evidence of German Borschows arriving in the Maritimes on board rag ships, which could corroborate the story that we're descended from a Berlin cantor. But really, I don't have much to go on despite registering for a couple websites which so far have been of limited use. The clues are there, but I can't piece them together. I feel as though I need a lucky break.

The ultimate break would, of course, be a copy of the letter that my great aunt burned for its suggestion that we might not be what we thought. I wonder if that exists, or if the sole copy (and the information it provided) went up in smoke. Either way, I'll keep on investigating. This is simply too good a story to let fall by the wayside.

32-for-32 Update

The Casa de Johns is a place of refuge this afternoon: refuge from the gloom outside, refuge from the office, refuge from the Blue Jays' stuttering start to the 2013 season. (Alright, that last point's not quite true: I've watched almost every pitch of every game so far this year, including the one that's being shown on the TV screen behind me. The Jays are losing. Again.) But 32-for-32 is moving along nicely. Here's the latest!

1. First and foremost, there's yet another new item: learn about my investments, which first appeared on 31-for-31, has taken the place of increase my monthly RRSP contribution following a meeting with a financial planner earlier today. (He also gave me a tonne of information about my investments--including, among other things, a geographic breakdown of where my money's being put. So that was helpful.)
2. Ambassador Gordo and I have established the parameters for listen to the Tragically Hip's entire catalogue, in chronological order, within a single day: all thirteen studio albums (including the self-titled 1987 EP which, for whatever reason, I neither own nor have ever listened to) as well as Live Between Us, but not the greatest hits package Yer Favourites. Ambassador Gordo tried foisting the That Night In Toronto DVD on me, as well--but there are limits to his powers despite what I'm sure he thinks.
3. I'm almost done reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. It's masterful, isn't it?
   
4. Continue trying to determine if I'm Jewish is done, albeit ongoing. I'll have a specific "Discovering My Inner Jew" entry later this week.
5. Finally, fully commit myself to good mental health, which was the one Big Ticket Item on 32-for-32, is also done as far as this list's concerned. I mean, I took a leave of absence from work and moved home for two months; how much more committed could I get short of getting shock treatment? Anyway: this is obviously a work in progress. But I've gotten my life back since publishing this list last August. And that's awesome.

By the way, to those of you who signed up for the 32-for-32 Rope-Up Challenge, I'll be getting in touch with you shortly. Sorry 'bout the delay. I haven't forgotten!

32-for-4/8

Greetings from the Casa de Johns, where it's week three of Stretching/Icing/Resting (Lather, Rinse, Repeat). Yesterday, in an attempt to minimize my time spent playing Tiger Woods on PS3--more on that in a second, actually--I made a list of thirty-two things for me to do this week. Check them out! Some of these are incredibly mundane. Again, it's all in the name of getting away from in front of the TV...unless it's to watch sports. Or real golf, for that matter: the Masters starts Thursday.

1. Wake up every day by 8am
2. Shower every day by 9pm
3. Do my ACL exercises 3x a day
4. See my surgeon Thursday morning WHOOPS! Apparently my appointment was Wednesday, not Thursday. Good job, Steve!
5. Do daily ERP
6. Make an appointment with the bank DONE!
7. Prepare for the appointment DONE!
8. Meet with the bank Wednesday morning DONE!
9. Get the loose change from my desk at work
10. Use the Coin Counter at TD DONE!
11. Do the recycling DONE!
12. Do the laundry DONE!
13. Vacuum the apartment
14. Clean the balcony
15. Clean my room
16. Rebuild my chest of drawers DONE!
17. Get a new file organizer DONE!
18. Organize my files DONE!
19. Claim last fall's prescriptions DONE!
20. Transfer files between computers
21. Get my printer working again DONE! KIND OF! My old printer wasn't compatible with Windows 8, so I bought a new one instead.
22. Fix my car's satellite radio DONE!
23. Take the Mirthmobile through a car wash
24. Go to Superstore
25. Go to Costco
26. Finish at least one chapter of PSYC 290
27. Watch Argo DONE!
28. Work on Discovering My Inner Jew DONE!
29. Unsubscribe from Fold3 and Ancestry.ca DONE!
30. Write two Brain of SNJ entries
31. Write three Stuff and Nonsense entries DONE!
32. Limit my time playing Tiger Woods DONE!

Here's to not going stir crazy this week!

At the Hundredth Percentile

I know what you're thinking: "C'mon, Steve: it's been more than a week since we've seen a picture of your leg!" I do apologize. To your right (or, for the punctilious, to the right-hand side of the screen) you'll see how it looks today. The sutures are coming out Thursday; incidentally, I'm off work another week while I continue my daily regimen of stretching, icing, and resting (which tomorrow incorporates stationary biking). It's looking better, huh? It certainly looks better than it did on the 28th.

So there's that--and there's also this. Last week I saw my physio. He and I have a long-standing relationship; this is the third different time I've required his services after a broken foot and a strained groin. There was a student with him this time. The first thing he had me do was walk. After I'd taken three steps he turned to the student and said, "You don't see this." The next thing he had me do was bring my knee to my chest; apparently I was able to bend it 125°, which is 25° more than I should've been able to bend it. So that was good. Afterwards I asked the physio how I was doing. His exact words: "You're in the upper half of the 100th percentile of all the ACL recovery patients I've seen." So that was good, too. I knew things were going well, but it was nice getting that sort of validation. And so we keep on keeping on. I'm well on track to run that 5k by my birthday.