Archive - Jun 2012 - Entertainment News Article
âHere I am! Hey hey hey hey!â
Fido scampered on over, full of beans as usual.
âFido, have you been messing with my email? Iâm getting all kinds of strange email from people I donât know, in places Iâve never been, and I just have a hunch youâre behind this.â
âI love email,â Fido said. âYou can connect with anyone!â
âI know, Fido, but I donât want to be connected with EVERYone. I can see there is a green, pine pollen dogpaw print on my keyboard.â
Fido sat (obediently, for once in his life) at my side. He grinned.
Mono Council for the Arts presents its 35th Annual Mammoth Celebrates the Arts Fine Arts and Contemporary Crafts Festival in the parking lot of Footloose Sports July 4-7 from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., Wednesday through Saturday.
âChomp chomp chomp, slurp slurp chomp.â
âEgad, Fido, I canât take you anywhere!â
By now Fido was licking the pavement.
âThis,â he proclaimed, âis just the best time EVER! Hey, will you look at THAT?â
Fido eyeballed the baked beans.
âFIDO!â I said, and gave him a tug on his nose leash.
It was his first-ever pig roast. It might be his last-ever, too, unless he can get a grip, and I told him as much.
Local gallery Bluebird Imaging had its official ribbon-cutting ceremony Tuesday evening. The gallery, owned and operated by husband-and-wife duo Kendra Knight and Aaron Horowitz, opened at its new location in the Mammoth Luxury Outlet Mall.
Itâs a new venue for an established businessâBluebird Imaging has been around for six years, tucked away in the middle of the Industrial Park. In its current location, itâs far easier for the public to track down (in Suite Q3 of the mall), directly adjacent to the Mono Council for the Arts gallery.
âIâm legal!â Fido yelped happily to no one in particular. âIâm legal, Iâm a rabies-free Mutt from the Mountains and âŠ do you happen to have a Pup-Peroni?â
Fido got up on his hind legs and did a little jig.
âLook! My tag is Royal Blue this year!â
The other dogs (and a few cats in crates) in the Mammoth Lakes Police Department parking lot expressed varying degrees of enthusiasm.
When the eleven boys of Cameron Yassamanâs advanced Mammoth High School band stop talking and start playing, something happens.
The joshing stops, the awkwardness of adolescence is gone. The soundsâsilver and bronze, copper and gilt and fineâpush the walls of the room back. The air gives way to music.
The music lifts and pulls and pushes and cajoles. The crowded, circular band room grows huge.
The boys are transformed, too.
The music rises, grows bold and rich and deep; Thelonius Monkâs decadent âAround Midnight.â
The roof rises one last time.
The music ends.
The Mammoth theater scene is on the up-and-up, says artistic director Shira Dubrovner.
All it needs is a vision, a business model and some way to capture and hold young people.
Easy to say, hard to do.
Dubrovner got a heavy taste of the challenges facing the theater last month at Directors Lab West in Pasadena, where she and other participants jammed a load of insight into eight days between May 19-26.
They also jammed nine plays in there, ranging from classical theater to highly experimental works by new artists and directors.
It’s always a big deal when the Sierra Summer Festival, in cooperation with Mammoth Gallery, opens its annual poster competition, and it’s open now.
“Golly, Fido, I thought you were going to come unglued there for a while.”
âHey Fido, why the long face?â
Fido lay sprawled at my feet under my desk in the office.
âWhat in the world are you talking about?â I said.
âEvery time I fall in love, Iâm in it, then Iâm out of it.â
âDog breath, maybe?â
âWell, yeah, I guess I can tell that. Let me riff through these press releases first, then weâll have a chat.â
âI donât want to chat.â
âSomethingâs got you way down in the hole, Fido. Lemme finish these up.â
Thereâs something funny about a mule that nobody tries to explain. Mules are not outlandish, hide-slapping, hee-haw hilariousâalthough that kind of humor attends Mule Days more often than would be expected in dire economic times.
Mules provide the kind of mild amusement that curls one side of the mouth, an absorbing sort of sparkle that has demanded 43 annual repetitions of Mule Days, and expanded the celebration to an entire week of demonstrations (Mule ShoeingâŠ), competitions (Log SkiddingâŠ), and that old western standby, a Saturday night dance.
Olympic hopeful Josh Cox has a music library of about 55,00 tunes, says he, but before a big race, there is only one: âIâve listened to U2âs âWhere Streets Have No Nameâ before every race since 1989, the first line is my mantra.â For the curious, âI wanna run, I want to hide/I wanna tear down the walls/That hold me inside/I wanna reach out/And touch the flame/Where the streets have no name.â âŠ