Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

Month: May 2009

Writers’ Conferences in NYC Worthwhile

writersconfsnyc-050I’m here in the Big Apple and have attended both the Backspace Writers’ Conference and the BEA (Book Expo America). The Book Expo is an event I have attended for the past 5 years, ever since it was held in Chicago at McCormack Place. Then there was one in Washington, D.C. and a couple in New York City at the Jacob Javits Center.

 

One thing is for sure: you are going to have top-notch authors everywhere and there will be interesting programs and speakers. The morning Master of Ceremonies last year was Stephen Colbert, and the author of “1000 Splendid Suns” spoke. This year’s M.C. was Craig Ferguson, and the advertised author was Pat Conroy (“Prince of Tides,” “Beaches”). Unfortunately, Conroy—who had Davenport ties with his (now deceased) brother a priest at St. Anthony’s in Davenport at one time—was ill and, at the last minute, unable to attend the luncheon. (Rumor I heard was that he had surgery 2 days prior).

 

Still, the Backspace Writers’ Conference being held on W. 32nd Street at the Radisson Martinique Hotel featured keynote speaker David Morrell (“Rambo”) and at least 12 separate agents visited and shared wisdom with the would-be authors. Morrell was receiving an award for being so supportive of the conference, initially, but there were other speakers throughout the day.

 

Unfortunately, I was unable to hear his keynote address today in the afternoon, as I was helping hold down a table at the BEA for one hour (2:30 to 3:30 p.m.) advertising my first collaborative novel Out of Time and meeting and greeting a variety of authors, booksellers and readers.

 

One notable event occurred with “Sully,” that would be the pilot who put his plane down safely in the Hudson River, saving all 155 passengers onboard, spoke to the assembled crowd. (See photo). On Saturday night, musicians Steven Tyler of Aerosmith and Clarence Clemmons, “the Big Man” of E-Street Band fame were speakers.

 

All-in-all, with the weather improving to perfect by today, it has been a busy and fun-filled 5 days, and, except for having to find a dentist in midtown Manhattan to fix a tooth that flossed into oblivion, a very productive trip.

Jury Duty Reveals UTHS Violence

I was on Twitter…or was it Facebook? Whatever it was, I read David Burke’s comment that he had just concluded a week on jury duty, and I was in Chicago and the words JURY DUTY flashed before my eyes,

I had been sent a summons for jury duty, but I totally forgot about it…didn’t submit it…didn’t remember where it was.

I called home from Chicago to the spouse, who was told to look on the desk for signs of a jury summons. He located same and sent it in and, following my return from visiting the new Chicago Modern Art Gallery (10 years in the making) and other such trips, I called and got a message on the phone that my number was, indeed, “up.” I had to report at Monday (today) at 8:30 a.m. to the fourth floor of the Rock Island County Jail building.

This, of course, is about an hour and a half earlier than I would prefer to get up, and would require me to be up no later than 7:30 a.m. I asked my husband, “Should I set my alarm, or will you wake me up?”

He promised to wake me up at 7:30 a.m. Instead, he woke me up at 6:30 a.m., a time of day when it is best not to do this. (He said he “misread” the clock; next time I will use the alarm clock.)

So, I trotted on over to the jail and parked fully a block away in the parking lot behind the old County Office building, because there is no parking anywhere near the new jail building. I took: my jury summons, 3 magazines, a sweater, an insulated bottle with ice in it, 2 cans of Diet Dr. Pepper for much-needed caffeine input, a pair of heels that went with my understated, black-on-black outfit. I left my cell phone in the car, as instructed.

Up to the fourth floor I went, with my large bag and my large purse. About 50 people were gathered, and, after a rather long wait, during which only half of the light panels in the room worked (7 were out and the attendant was calling for help in replacing the bulbs or light rods or whatever they run on), I sat and read my “People” magazine. A man next to me asked if he could read one of my other magazines. It was hot in the room at that time. As the day went on, it would become cold in the room and I would lend my black-and-white sweater to a woman named Mary Leach, who was the sister of the former Mayor of Moline, Stan Leach.
Mary and I turned out to be spectacularly bad candidates for this particular jury, because both of us had close ties or were teachers.

The case involved a young man named Trent Mooney who was charged with assault for decking two teachers at United Township High School. One of the teachers was David Maccabee; one was a counselor, Patrick Green, whom, the initial complaint stated, Mr. Mooney had “struck in the face.”

Now began the division of the jury pool into smaller groups. My group was the petit jury afternoon after the 12-member jury was selected, and the group would have to return on the morrow to render a verdict. Still, it would chew up 2 full days of time.

The other group was taken somewhere else…the Court House, I think, and they would be Grand Jurors who could expect their trial experience to last a week. This did not thrill me, as a prospect, as I have airline tickets to go to New York City on the 27th and that would be cutting it close, as I plan to drive to Chicago a day or so in advance of my flight time,

Now began the questioning of we prospective jurors. Certain numbers were called to take a seat in the jury box. I was not among the first eight. The questions seemed rather dim (“Have you ever known a teacher?”) Who among us has NOT known a teacher? This question came from State’s Attorney (prosecution) assistant Margaret Osborne, who would be the prosecution. An attorney named David Hoffman represented the defense. Mr. Hoffman has curly white hair and seemed rather full of himself. He did make fun of the question I just mentioned, and he seemed sharper than the opposition, but, having said that, he let a woman who taught for 34 years in the Moline Public Schools remain on the jury, while kicking off a man who worked for Deere who once knew someone named Patrick Green. (It was determined that, through sheer age alone, they could not be one and the same individual).

I was troubled by the prospect that the David Maccabee in question might be the band director my daughter had been First Chair Alto Saxophone for. I even accompanied a few of his students at contest(s), but I was not the most active band parent, and I was not sure if he would remember me. For my part, I remembered him by face, but the name did not immediately ring a bell. I asked the bailiff if that person was the instrumental music director at UTHS. He did not know, but he asked the prosecution attorney, and they were one and the same, so I knew I must recuse myself, when asked.

I was called to the jury box, and, when they asked if anyone knew the individuals involved, raised my hand and said I knew Mr. Maccabee. The Judge (Michael Meara or O”Meara) then asked me if I was ‘close” to Mr. Maccabee, and I said it had been four years since my daughter had been in his band. He then asked if I could be impartial and consider the defendant to be innocent until I heard the evidence, and I answered that, as a 36-year-veteran teacher, I could not. I don’t think hitting your teachers (two of them) in the face is a good way to resolve conflict. I don’t condone teachers hitting students, either. When I said this, the Judge immediately excused me.

A different person took my seat and the questioning continued, with me in the courtroom as an observer. Then, we were excused for a 2-hour lunch (11:30 to 1:30 p.m.) and Mary and I went to Bennigan’s, where we shared our thoughts on students hitting teachers in the face, which were remarkably similar in nature. (Summary: not a good idea).

We returned to the holding area at 1:00 and were the first ones back, so I decided to go up to the 5th floor where testimony was being given. Instructing Mary to tell them I had gone to the rest room if asked, I left my gear in the holding area and went back upstairs to the courtroom, where the trial was now in progress and Mr. Maccabee was testifying. The bailiff kicked me out, because I was supposed to stay in the holding area until released. I returned to Floor 4 and, as I entered, learned that we were all free to go…the jury on the other side of the street had been selected.

I then went back to the 5th floor, now a free woman, and sat in on Mr. Maccabee’s testimony about the altercation, which did, indeed, seem to involve “policing” the halls of UTHS. Mr. Maccabee was saying that Mr. Mooney was trying to get to Mr. Lopez, who had been “taunting” him verbally.

Question from Defense Attorney Hoffman: “What was he attempting to do?

Mr. Maccabee’s answer: “He wanted me out of the way.  There’s no question about that at all.”

Mr. Hoffman: “If you had been disengaged and gotten out of the way, would he (Mr. Mooney) have gone for you?”

Mr. Maccabee: “No.”

Mr. Hoffman: “Did you continue into the Art Room?”

Mr. Maccabee: “Yes.”

After this, Mr. Maccabee was excused from the stand and strode right by me, seated in the back pew.

I got up and followed him into the hall, expecting to share a few words about my daughter, his former First Chair Alto Saxophone. He did not recognize me by name, I’m sure, and I doubt if he recognized me, period. He blew me off and muttering something about “having to go” did not give me the time of day.

I did some further research on the UTHS situation and the best I have been able to determine, the inmates may be in charge of the asylum. My daughter told me, over four years ago, that she did not want me to substitute teach there, as the kids showed the teachers no respect and were unruly and difficult to discipline. I have heard rumors that the administration does not “back” the teachers and that physical altercations, while perhaps not the norm are not that unusual.

It was always my belief that, if you hit a teacher (let alone two teachers) you would be expelled. For how long you would be expelled was open to question. Often the length of the expulsion was not long enough, in the teachers’ eyes. (One semester? Two?) One teacher (male), who was known to be the type who can take care of himself physically, got tired of being hit and quit his job. (He went to work as a prison guard, instead). He returned, briefly, but ultimately left for a better job elsewhere.

In short, what is happening at United Township High School and why was this case in Rock Island County Court on Monday, May 18, 2009? It would seem, to me, that the student in question should be expelled. Two wrongs do not make a right. While Josh Lopez should not have “taunted” anyone, hitting not one, but two teachers to get to him to retaliate seems a case of “two wrongs do not make a right.” Is it the school’s intent to see the student do actual jail time, as well as to suffer expulsion? If so, was it because the hit to the face broke teeth or did serious physical damage? Obviously, there is an issue within the school if the band teacher, who is a mild-mannered individual who doesn’t even have to control the kind of class that students usually rebel against (i.e, the kind where you have to sit quietly and think and concentrate) is struck AND a counselor, who was described as “trying to calm Mr. Mooney down,” is struck in the face during the fracas.

Mr. Mooney might also be well advised to dress up a bit for his court appearance. He was wearing tennis and a hooded sweatshirt. Did not exactly scream” solid citizen.” I would not want either one of these attorneys to defend me in court. The prosecution seemed dim and the defense seemed to not be using his challenges wisely. It will be interesting to see how the case turns out. Personally, I don’t think the kid has a chance in hell of getting off.

Franco Rivera (Daniel Sunjata of “Rescue Me”) At Midway Airport (Chicago) on May 7th, 2009

francoThe daughter made a trip back to the Midwest (specifically Chicago’s Midway Airport on Delta) last Thursday from New York City where she has been interning in the music industry since January and sat next to one of “People” magazine’s “50 Most Beautiful People” of 2003.

She slept all the way and didn’t recognize television’s Daniel Sunjata (Condon), Franco Rivera of “Rescue Me” for the past 5 years and 58+ episodes. When asked about this, later, she said it was because “he was wearing a hat.”

The husband (pictured here with the actor) did recognize the handsome and talented actor and took the opportunity to tell him how much we enjoy the show, adding, “My wife is going to be so pissed that she isn’t here.” (He’s right about that.)

Sunjata was born in Evanston, Illinois on December 30, 1971, and was also nominated for a Tony for Best Actor in Richard Greenberg’s “Take Me Out” on Broadway in 1970. He is six feet one inches tall and attended both Florida A&M, the University of Louisiana, where he earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts, and NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, where he was awarded a MFA.

Daniel is African-American, Irish and German and has had some of the best lines on “Rescue Me” over the past 5 years of his appearance in 58 episodes,, both those expressing his strong belief in a conspiracy theory regarding 9/11 and in exchanges discussing ethnicity or a variety of weird topics, like the ones listed below:

“Rescue Me: Bitch (#2.11)” (2005)

Franco Rivera: Oh, sh*t. Sean Garrity readin’ a book. That’s the first sign of the apocalypse.

Franco Rivera: I don’t know if I can believe you or not, Tom. See the Tommy Gavin I used to know was a lyin’, cheatin’, schemin’, brawlin’, skirt-chasin’ son of a bitch. I looked up to him. You always knew where he stood, but this new Tommy, this, uh, fancy coffee-drinkin’, pastry-eatin’, kind, sweet, sincere one, uh-uh, Bro, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.


“Rescue Me: Sensitivity (#2.5)” (2005)

Sean Garrity: So you’re over the fat chick?
Mike Silletti: Totally.
Sean Garrity: Yeah? So what’s with the new girl, what’s her name?
Mike Silletti: Allison.
Sean Garrity: Can I tell you something bro, concerning Allison? She’s gigantic.
Mike Silletti: She’s tall.
Sean Garrity: No. Shaq is tall. Ok? Yo Yo Ming is tall.
Franco Rivera: Yao Ming.
Sean Garrity: Yo.
Franco Rivera: Yao.
Sean Garrity: No, I was just-I was just saying hi. Your chick is gigantic.
Franco Rivera: Oh, he’s back with the fat chick?
Sean Garrity: No, he’s dating a vet, now.
Franco Rivera: What war?
Sean Garrity: No. Vet, like cats and dogs.
Franco Rivera: And she’s fat?
Mike Silletti: Tall.
Franco Rivera: Oh, how tall are we talkin?
Mike Silletti: Like, not that tall, like 6’2″ 6’3″ and a half?
Franco Rivera: So what, are you only doing Guiness book chicks now, is that it Probie? Fattest and tallest, I mean, what’s next, a chick with three tits?
Sean Garrity: Oh, that’d be great wouldn’t it? You know I dated a chick with three nipples, one time? Well, I thought it was a nipple, it turned out to be a boil… Long Pause… Anyway, an extra tit would be great.

(On pejorative stereotypes applied to groups.)

Don Kleinman: Ok, we have a hand up. You think you’re prejudiced?.
Tommy Gavin: Yup.
Don Kleinman: Against who?
Tommy Gavin: Well let’s see, uh, Chevy Neons that cost 12 Grand to buy but have $8,000 paint jobs and 9 spics inside them smokin’ weed, that’s one thing.
Don Kleinman: Ok, now listen, the term “spic”…
Franco Rivera: It’s Ok, I’m a spic.
Tommy Gavin: Crazy chink broads who don’t know how to drive in the first place and now they have cell phones stuck to their ears while they’re doing 65 MPH down 6th avenue, huh? Right? And the crazy chinks on bikes with 10 pounds of chinese food strapped to the handlebars…
Don Kleinman: Ok, see, now the word “chink” is what I like to call a problem word.
Sean Garrity: …raises his hand… Yeah, uh, if I were a chink I’d rather be called a chink then a gook.
Don Kleinman: Ok, now hold on. Listen to me please. Chinese people would not like to be called gook or chink or pan face or zipper-head or…
Franco Rivera: See? That’s another thing-Puerto Ricans, we even get shafted when it comes to racism. Chinks get like what, 4 ethnic slurs? We get one-spic, that’s it. The Irish, they got: Mick, Paddy, Donkey. The Italians, they got: Guinea, WOP, Deigo…
Sean Garrity: …raises his hand… Yeah, uh, Sphagetti Bender…
Franco Rivera: Ehhh, Sphagetti Bender went out of style during Sinatra’s first marriage.
Mike Silletti: …raises his hand… Greaseball?
Franco Rivera: Yeah, greaseball. There ya have it. That’s four.
Tommy Gavin: That’s right, you know, same thing with the Jews, right? Heeb, Kike, Jew-Boy, Benny…
Franco Rivera: Shiloch
Tommy Gavin: That’s five.
Franco Rivera: Yeah, black people, forget about it. Spear-Chucker, Jungle Bunny, Raisin Head, Porch Monkey, Spook
Tommy Gavin: Shyne
Sean Garrity: Tar-Baby
Franco Rivera: It’s endless, totally unfair.
Tommy Gavin: Yeah
Don Kleinman: …all turn and look to the front at Don who is looking in complete disbelief…
Franco Rivera: What?


“Rescue Me: Pieces (#3.9)” (2006)

(On having sex with Heather Mills McCartney)

Kenny Lou: I’d hit that.
Tommy Gavin: You would?
Kenny Lou: In a heartbeat. Wait, who are we talking about again?
Tommy Gavin: Heather Mills McCartney, ex-wife of former Beatle Paul.
Franco Rivera: I’d do her.
Tommy Gavin: Really?
Franco Rivera: Oh yeah man.
Tommy Gavin: Even though she’s only got the one leg?
Franco Rivera: Tommy, it’s a bonus man.
Tommy Gavin: How is it a bonus?
Franco Rivera: Well it gives you an extra sexual position to enjoy for one, that being her laying on her side, the side with the leg, you straddle said leg and do her sideways without having to worry about the extra pesky leg getting in the way.
Tommy Gavin: What about the stump?
Franco Rivera: I didn’t think about that. Pass.

Daniel Sunjata, the college-educated actor who plays a Hispanic firefighter on the series created by Denis Leary was gracious and amiable while waiting for the luggage to come out on the carousel. He laughed when my husband mentioned how upset I would be at missing this opportunity to meet and greet the 38-year-old actor, who seemed to be talking to a girlfriend on his cellphone as the plane landed.

Sunjata was generous, gracious and friendly, and obligingly posed for the photo you see here, with another beautiful person, my spouse of decades.

“American Idol” Rock Week Rocks the House

Last week, Adam Lambert was announced as being in the bottom three. How did this happen? Beats the hell out of me. He was nothing short of brilliant on May 5 (Cinquo de Mayo) singing Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta’ Love.” His duet with Allison Irahita on “Slow Ride” was exceptional, as well, and Allison’s rendition of “Cry, Cry Baby” (Janis Joplin) was gutsy and great.

Kris Allen and Danny Gokey, by contrast, were just too soft and twinky, as they are not rockers, but more crooners or ballad singers. This was the first week that Danny Gokey might need to fear the bottom of the barrel. His excruciatingly high ending note on the song he chose (“Dream On”) caused Simon to say, “That last note was like watching a horror movie. A little over the top. With Adam, it worked. With you, it didn’t work tonight.”

If there is any justice, Danny will get to experience the bottom of the barrel that he has, heretofore, escaped. Yes, American likes him. Initially, I thought the final would be a mano-a-mano duel between Danny and Adam, but last week’s close call for Adam, plus Allison’s growing self-confidence onstage could spell a finale that features Adam and Allison not dueting, but squaring off against one another for the Grand Prize.  Or not. Danny still has massive numbers of fans and the backstory of his recent status as a widower, and Allison still does not have the most riveting personality of the quartet, but the girl can sing. She has the pipes and, I suspect, the most on-air experience of the four, after Adam. (Check her out on YouTube).

The fact that this isn’t turning out to be a Grand Slam for Adam and Danny is interesting and a pleasant surprise. Stay tuned for Wednesday night’s results, which could be surprising. Or not. My prediction, as before: Kris goes back to Conway, Arkansas. He’s a nice guy, a cute guy, a crooner, but does he have the staying power to make it to the Top Two? My guess: no.

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