4- The Michigan Daily - Weekend etc. - Thursday, October 21, 1993 The love song of J. Alfred Heidelberg By RONA KOBELL I've always hated the idea of reading my poetry to a group of people. I'm terrified of stand- ing in a central spot with all eyes fixed on me. What if I get up on stage only to find that I have the stage presence and articulation skills of a dead otter? On the flip side, what if I'm too animated and charismatic and runaround stage not realizing thatmy nose is running orthatmy fly is unzipped? What if the microphone is too tall and in adjusting it I accidentally blow out the audience's eardrums with a shocking amplified noise, sounding more like an siren than a technical difficulty? Because of these irrational fears, no one was more surprised than I when I announced my intentions to read at Club Heidelberg's poetry slam. After some prodding from my supportive housemates, I realized that writers need practice and exposure to bolster their confidence. Besides, I thought, it will be dark and perhaps nobody will recognize me if I bomb. The bar is dark, butnot dark enough. The wood tables are illuminated by peripheral lights and the microphone on stage is in its predicted conspicu- ous spot. Readers cannot avoid being clearly seen and heard. No small crevice in which to take cover in case of failure. The man at the door sees my crestfallen face and smiles at me as I ask where to sign my name to read -an encouraging smile that seems to say, don't worry about this because poetry is subjec- tive and some people in the audience might think it sucks but others will laud you as the next female muse and who cares what these people will think anyway because not everybody can be a Shakespeare or a Seamus Heaney so stop shaking like a silly schoolgirl and write your stupid name on the damn list because you're holding up the fucking line! Of course, I could have been reading into it a little. The bar is packed so I slink into a front row seat. The people all around me are engaged in typical bar rituals, making merriment while I stare flatly atmy unopened notebook. Soon my favorite "guy smiley" emerges and announces the first reader, a regular feature and a talented musician. I stare blankly as a 20-something woman ap- pears on stage playing a harp. My trepidation intensifies. I can't read after her, I say to myself. I don't even have a harp. I don't even know how to play any instrument except the clarinet and after two years of lessons I could only play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and that sounded so cacopho- nous my parents made me practice in the garage... "When I lost the baby, blood poured out of me ..." The melodious voice of the musician sharply contrasted with her graphic words. She certainly didn't have to worry about being compared to a dead otter. I question why I am here and consider ...Because of these irrational fears, no one was more surprised than I when I announced my Intentions to read at Club Heidelberg's poetry slam. crossing out my name. But Guy Smiley is holding all the reader cards, and getting his attention would probably be more difficult that learning how to play the harp within the next 10 minutes. I look up again and a young blonde man has taken the stage. Oh good, I thought, he's probably a nervous young English major, just like me. But he is not like me. He is eloquent and confident and people are encapsulated by his command over language. The fact that he can do all this without a musical instrument only exacerbates my situa- tion. Oh God, Oh God, Oh ... "O ... hio welcomes you!" The next reader bellows into the microphone as he launches into a soliloquy on the finer points of our neighboring state. I have personally never felt so welcomed by Ohio, with its seemingly endless turnpike satu- rated with speed traps, industrial parks and towns with names like Zanesville. Yet I would give anything to be there right now. I think about stopping with my family at the Big Boy's between Mile Post 138 and 139 (we always go there, for lack of a better turnpike dining establishment in that fetid state) on our way to Ann Arbor from Pittsburgh. I think about eating delicious pancakes at 10:00p.m. (breakfast served all day) and wonder if the waitress recognizes us from the last time. Speaking of Big Boy's, I am getting kind of hungry ... "Our next reader ..." Wake up. Come out of your stuporous Ohio fantasy. This is your time! You can do it. Go! I get up as I hear Guy Smiley mutilate my last name. I don't bother to correct him as I take the stage. I ask him to adjust the microphone for me, in light of my fear of technology. He smiles again and then leaves the stage. Now I am alone. A whole night of fear and anxiety culminates in this moment. The audience is attentive but they are not smiling. The way I see it, I have two choices: I can read or,-I can run. "This poem is called ..." I hear my voice but cannot believe it is really me. I have started, and I cannot turn back. I cannot pay attention to the intonations of my voice but I think I sound okay. I look occasionally at the audience but mostly do not move my eyes from my poem. I am calm by the time I deliver the last line. As my stiff legs walk off stage I can vaguely hear applause. In 20 long-short seconds it is all over. I touch my nose. It isn't running. I look down and my zipper is zipped. Nobody's eardrums seem para- lyzed by a technical sonic boom. I sit down, still shaking in aftershock that I actually did it. And now my moment is over and guy smiley is butch- ering someone else's name. It is all over. I breathe a sigh of relief. "That was really good," my housemate assures me. "Were you nervous?" "Naw," I shrugged confidently. "Not at all." Dennis Miller's not laughing DENNIS Continued from page 1 headquarters. But I wouldn't say I'm politically active. While I do vote, I find politics frustrating because noth- ing ever seems to get done.") While comedians are making names for themselves all over prime time network television, this very venue is one that Miller has happened to avoid. Barring some irresistible offer, he intends to keep himself clear of the sit-com phenom. "I like Jerry (Seinfeld)'s show, but I never think sit-com. Maybe I will in the future, if I find other avenues closed tome. But that's not my first choice of things to do." Right now Miller's first choice also seems to be his only choice, tour- ing the country in order to accrue enough material to do an HBO spe- cial next year, hence his visit to Hill Auditorium tonight. But why the push to get back to work when Miller is "having such a great time"? "I'm an adult who's got to support his family. I'm in no huge rush to start working again. But I should probably start sniffing around. "I might consider going back to late night if that were an option, but I just don't sense that that's going to happen. You might as well live in the real world." A task that must be difficult, for the real world is not always kind to comedians. Even those who look the best behind their imposing, ma- hogany desks. DENNIS MILLER will perform tonight at 8p.m. at Hill Auditorium. Tickets are $10 and are available at the Michigan Union ticket counter. _ Really, 'Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia,' please By MICHAEL THOMPSON With a title like "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia," you prob- ably think that you know what to expect. A bunch of guys running after this Garcia guy and at the end he either gets away or he eats it. Wrong, all wrong. The reason that particular plot synopsis could never happen is becausethisfilmisbySamPeckinpah, .................... 1.................. ----- .-- 215 S. State St. [ 4 Ft. ($19.95) Ann Arbor : [ Next to State Theatre-Upstairs . i Black Lite Bulbs Rock T-Shirts A-Z [ [ Black Lite Posters ~R otr o Rock Posters [ Black Lit. Candles oc T Rock Tapestries I [ Rock Ball-Caps [ (Anything this side of page) $fl[ ($8 Value or Higher) 995-mDEADi [ [ Open 7 Days a Week UM/exp. 11-30-93 r--- - -- Garcia" is similar to early Peckinpah films like "The Wild Bunch" in its extreme violence and decadent char- acters. The film differs, however, in the way the protagonist is drawn out. Warren Oates certainly doesn' tcower away from violence, buthe'snotprone to it like his character in "The Wild Bunch." He just wants to get out of Mexico and try to start over again. Oates plays this loser with so much conviction that it's difficult not to feel happy for him when the film finally ends. The film also doesn't contain as much violence as "The Wild Bunch." Peckinpah is creating a bizarre road movie, featuring two of the coolest cars in film history. We know almost from the start that Oates is far from perfect. "Nobody loses all the time," he says at the beginning. But by the time Oates stops losing it doesn't matter. He has lost everything and all his new triumphs become pathetic moments ofmachismo and death. And and nothing is ever simple in a Peckinpah movie. Warren Oates stars in this film as the consummate loser. He's stuck in Mexico playing the piano in a crappy bar. He sees his chance to escape his lowly life when two men come into the barlooking for Alfredo Garcia. Or rather, for his head. Oates thinks he knows where Garcia is sohe jumps at the chance and makes the biggest mistake of his life. "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo no triumph will ever be big enough. He's lost too much to fill the void. The violence the film does con- tain is much like Peckinpah's film "Straw Dogs." It's exciting and cool to watch the protagonist killing all of these people, but the reasoning be- hind the murdering is dense. It's im- possible to ever figure out if the ac- tions of a Peckinpah protagonist are "right." And that's the beauty of a Peckinpah movie. The complications of the protagonist bleed into the audi- ence, making them as guilty or heroic as the film's main character. For fans of action-adventure auteur John Woo, "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia" is a must see. Woo admits that Peckinpah is a huge influ- ence and watching this or any other Peckinpah film makes it obvious. The quick cutting editing style of the vio- lence combined with deep melodrama is as evident in "Garcia" as it is in "The Killer." At least two of the popular movie guides in bookstores claim that "Garcia" is for Peckinpah fans only. That may be, but it's more than likely that after you rent "Garcia" you'll be back for "The Wild Bunch"or "Straw Dogs" next weekend. 'Deisue Wpom #Study Lounge" Vow Co putr om " Landy Fati ] 24hourktendfedLobby Game"o Meat and