Enough about you, let’s talk about me. I’m sick. I know this because I watched an entire season of The Office on Netflix yesterday and peanut butter seems disgusting. Normally, I will crawl naked across a thicket of thorns to procure peanut butter. (Well, what does your grocery store look like?) Also, when I stand up, the world seems shot by Twilight’s cinematographer; everything is blown out and too close. Also, people are drinking blood through straws. No wait, that’s just the couch.

It’s in this spirit of slight ennui and total deliriousness that I bring you my Utterly Subjective End of Year Round Up in which I speak in absolutes and you can’t object because this site doesn’t support comments.

Let’s ease into this with something indisputable.

1. Best new Chicago Restaurant: Lady Gregory. Only days after opening its doors some time last summer (I’m too sick to google.), this upscale Irish bar and restaurant already felt like a neighborhood mainstay. Since then, LG has made itself indispensable, providing not only delicious food and homey ambiance, but also holiday movie screenings, special whiskey tastings and a winter coat drive. If you’re in the market for a low-key New Year’s Eve destination, LG promises a live DJ, party favors, champagne and best of all, no cover. What are you waiting for? Go. Order the beet salad and tell them I sent you. They will have no idea what you mean, but they will still bring you the salad.

I have a reputation for no-holds-barred honesty, shockingly intimate revelations and naked disclosure. (I’m not sure what that last part means, but it would be a nifty title for an exposé about the figure modeling industry except that there is no figure modeling industry, just a bunch of naked, broke people who haven’t taken enough drugs to make the leap to stripping.)

This intimacy we’ve developed over the past year and a half, it’s vital. You think I have what we have with anyone else? And the reason for our connection is my high-octane candor. (Coincidentally also the name of a buddy flick I have in development about a racecar driver and his therapist.)

My word is my bond, people. Great phrase, feel free to quote me, but keep in mind it carries a lot more heft on the page than when you get to the register to pay for your crème brûlée latte.

My point? Honesty is the cornerstone of our relationship, that and my nominal blogging fee. Which is why it pains me to tell you that I’ve been keeping something from you.

Not the ‘snuggling’ dream I had about my sister’s boyfriend.
Not the fact that I dress the dog up in swimwear.
Not my long-term emotional affair with Levar Burton.

I’ve never told you about my werewolf.

Everything you’re feeling right now is totally normal. Go ahead; let it out. But when you’re done rending your garments and wait, could you not throw that particular vase, it was a gift from my…ooookay, nevermind. Easy come, easy go. Listen, believe it or not my not telling you about the werewolf was an oversight rather than a conscious decision. The werewolf represents such a quotidian aspect of my existence that I even neglected to mention him to my therapist. He only came up in passing.

This also is totally normal.

“So in the dream,” I said, “I was trying to take a shower in another closet with my sister’s boyfriend when I realized the werewolf-” And there I caught myself. “The werewolf is real, actually. My father is a poet and he wrote a poem cycle called The Werewolf Sequence and before I was born my mother made a six-foot tall werewolf out of paper-mâché to sort of go with the book I guess and anyway, I grew up with the werewolf--”
My therapist: “Wait a second, you grew up with a six foot werewolf around?”
Me: “Well, he wasn’t really around, he was mostly in the basement.”
My Therapist: “Oh, that’s better.”

Portrait of a Werewolf as a Young Man (Also my mother.)

Lately I think about the werewolf a lot more than I used to. Probably because he’s always behind me.

Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann

Princess Leia’s impact on my childhood was minimal and mostly to do with her hair. I admired it, but only because I liked braids in general, though I preferred the way Pippi Longstocking wore hers: a horizontal braid arrow that seemed to pierce her head. I can’t tell you how many wire coat hangers I unraveled and stabbed through my braids, trying to force my hair to defy gravity too. It was a point of contention between my mother and me, so much so that I assumed her little lapel button with the crossed out hanger on it was a warning directed at me.

My true Carrie Fisher awakening came by virtue of her book, Postcards from the Edge, a witty, blunt, lightly fictionalized account of her time in rehab. Perusing my quote book, I assume I was about fourteen when I read Postcards—the thicket of Fisher’s quotes I chose to record are smack between excerpts from Woody Allen and Sylvia Plath, the infamous dynamic duo of teenage angst and hilarity. Fisher’s novel is chockablock with lines like “I narrate a life I’m reluctant to live,” and “describing herself was her way of being herself;” I related so much I thought my head might fall off. From there, I sucked down each book she published, spitting her insightful one-liners into a series of notebooks I kept through college. (Philosophy professors and lesbian folk singers replaced Plath, but Allen stuck around.)

In 2007, I returned to The Geffen Playhouse where I’d worked for a year in ticket sales, to see Wishful Drinking, Fisher’s one-woman show. The Geffen is a magical dollhouse of a theatre; intimate, with a lobby that spills into a courtyard lit by twinkling lights. Working there was my first taste of what it meant to live in L.A. Sure I’d spent my shifts crammed into a tiny cubbyhole shared with a rotating bunch of oddballs (the Englishwoman who microwaved fish stew, a retired astrophysicist, some set builder guy who’s claim to fame was that Tori Spelling had given him not one but two lollipops on his last job), but I got to attend glittery red carpet premieres and once ran into Steve Martin walking the halls. (I’m pretty sure the Steve Martin thing happened, but I’ve told the story so many times, it feels more fairy-tale than truth.)

Seeing Fisher at the Geffen seemed like some kind of synchronicity, a childhood idol had chosen to grace a space through which I used to wander barefoot still sporting my college lesbian overalls. The show itself though, then in its infancy, was uneven. While imbued with Fisher’s characteristic amalgamation of candor and whimsy, it meandered. It was lovely just to spend time with Fisher—and the show truly does feel like an impromptu get-together—however, Wishful Drinking’s only through-line seemed Fisher herself. At the time, this bothered me.

This week Fisher kicked off Wishful Drinking’s limited two-week Chicago engagement. Since working out the kinks in LA, she’s taken the show across the US, playing to enthusiastic crowds and even receiving a Grammy nomination for the show’s album. Myself, I approached Wishful Drinking with trepidation, (possibly a byproduct of the hot pink tights I chose to wear). Hours lost in a room with an idol can be treacherous, dragging or accelerating at will. This time, I wanted to leave the theatre feeling as connected to Fisher as I had at fourteen, transferring her words from her book to mine.

Photo by Amy Boyle

My coworker gave me a lacy bra…. because I had cancer.
I love boots…. but then I got raped.
I wore this sweet maternity dress when I was pregnant with my son…who died at eighteen months.

There. I just saved you seventy bucks and ninety minutes. Go buy an Eileen Fisher sweater and take a yoga class. Or grab your bestie and get facials, or just binge on Entenmann's and clean your closet; anything that reminds you of your ovaries. Bonus points if it makes you feel bonded and nostalgic too.

Because that’s what Nora and Delia Ephron’s Love Loss and What I Wore wants: to grant a women of a certain age and means the opportunity to nod wryly and swear that, even with all her problems, you know, like those spats with her sisters, the difficulty finding a pair of heels that doesn’t pinch, she’s still got grandkids and lots of swoopy scarves, so gosh darn it, she’s doing just fine!

Based on the 1995 book by Ilene Beckerman, LLAWIW began as part of a summer series in East Hampton NY. (Of course it did.) Since its inception, it has been produced internationally and often with a star-studded cast. To be fair, the low-tech show has plenty of laugh out loud lines and offers the sort of offbeat moments distinctive to the Ephrons. Set up Vagina Monologue style-- women, music stands, a bunch of somewhat interchangeable characters—LLAWIW uses Gingie (Barbara Robertson) as a focal point, interweaving hundreds of other women’s stories as well. Though many monologues grow mawkish, due in large part to the “now I’m going to tell you something sad voice” nearly all of the cast members employ, several are saved by the quintessential Ephron ability to counter the listener’s assumptions, leaving them somewhere fresh and new. Hard to come by in a show rife with dated references and passé slang. Set in its midst, young actors Roni Geva and Katie O’Brien, strain credulity. In a saccharine gay wedding scene that hijacks the show’s already flabby middle, Geva maintains stellar timing, but O’Brien fares poorly as the least believable tuxedo-sporting lesbian in history.

Dear Twelve Year Old Self:
You don’t know me but I know you. See, I am you. The future you. Nice hot pink shorts by the way. They go smashingly with your hot pick socks, white keds, hot pink scrunchie and that hot pink glossy sports bra you wear as a shirt. (Sports bras are much less exciting when you spend all of your time wearing one while shouting at people from a stationary bike in a darkened room. Why would you do that? Good question.) Oh, and don’t worry, I don’t use the word ‘smashingly’ all the time. Just for special breaching the time/space continuum occasions.

You see this occasion is special indeed. I have brought you here to read my interview with one of your very favorite people. Dare I say, your idol. No, not Lily Tomlin. Younger self, I was lucky enough to interview Tiffany. Yes, she’s still got great hair. Not quite as high in the front though. Well, fewer jean jackets, no shopping mall concerts, but she is on tour with your other favorite. No, not Bette Midler. My God, why didn’t anyone know you were queer? Debbie Gibson. No, I don’t still have the Electric Youth perfume poster you climbed into the dumpster behind Walgreen’s to swipe. Yes, she’s still cute as a piano-playing bug, but she goes by Deborah now.

Anyway, Tiffany was lovely and gracious and gabbed about everything from her country-tinged album, “Rose Tattoo,” to whether she regrets posing for Playboy. Crap. No, forget I said that. I don’t care how much you like Gypsy. I don’t care how well things worked out for Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Look, by the time you’re me, you’ll have a lucrative blogging career. Yes, I know what lucrative means. I was using it in its original sense, from the Latin lucrātīvus, meaning gainful. Fine, once you get here, if my/your lifestyle does not meet your standards, you can pose for Playboy. My God, you’re stubborn. No wonder our mom sent you to all those therapists.

Our Town How is the music industry different from an adult perspective?
Tiffany You know more of the pitfalls; you know the industry is a business. It’s a balance to not get jaded by that. As a young artist, you just go out and play music because you love it. When I got off the road at nineteen, I thought, I’ll give it a couple years and just jump back in, but it’s a very fast paced industry and you have to keep up and continue to put product out and I think I’ve learned all that as an adult. Maybe people told me all that when I was younger but you don’t really get it.

OT We’ve watched artists like Britney Spears publicly falter. How did you avoid that period?
T For myself and Debbie Gibson, that was a big no-no, a career breaker, to be out doing scandalous things—at the time that was not acceptable. Not that it’s okay now, but bad behavior is a little more celebrated. Artists have always gotten into trouble, especially as young teens because you’re living in an adult world. Nobody’s telling you no, you’re making lots of money. But we didn’t have reality TV; paparazzi weren’t what they are now. Every second these kids are bombarded, so you’re gonna see some unflattering things. As a public, we gasp when we see that sort of thing yet we’re hooked to the TV.

OT How has social media changed life for an artist?
T It’s a great time to be an independent artist. Everyday I wake up to some new tool available to me to get the word out about my new record or to network within the industry or get in contact with my fans. I’m not always instantly in the know, but I have lots of friends with their fingers on the pulse and I look to them to educate me. Being an artist used to mean making a record, doing a video, doing some touring-- those were the tools of the trade. Now you can go on Twitter, be accessible through so many different avenues. That’s very exciting, but also kind of demanding. You really have to stay on top of things.

OT Was there ever any truth to the supposed rivalry between you and Debbie Gibson?
T We get a kick out of that. I can definitely say for myself, I never had harsh words with her, I didn’t even know her. We would walk red carpets together, take a few pictures and go our separate ways. We never became friends (and definitely weren’t enemies) until the movie “Mega python vs Gatoroid” brought us together and we developed a friendship for the first time. You’d think we would have collaborated through music, but that’s actually really a challenge. We are two completely different people and I think that’s what this tour is about: celebrating the 80’s through each of our perspectives. I’m much more of a rocker and country at heart, so I’m going to be into Stevie Nicks and Bon Jovi and Guns and Roses and Deborah is your pop girl through and through (with some Broadway thrown in) and she does it beautifully. We never understood the rivalry but it’s probably to be expected, it’s good gossip.

If you’re a Chicagoan who likes to shop than no doubt you’ve heard of the Randolph Street Market. Created in 2004 by former party planner Sally Schwartz, the event has even attracted the likes of Oprah darling Nate Berkus. Our Town spoke with Schwartz about the Market’s inception, current incarnation, and because we here at Our Town are fashion impaired, snagged some style tips as well.

Our Town When you started what was originally known as Chicago Antique Market, did you have any inkling of what it would become?
Sally Schwartz I knew it was a big idea but I didn't actually think I'd still be doing it eight years later, thought I would be on my yacht having cornered the market in some rare item I'd stumbled across. Honestly, it's so much fun I can't imagine doing anything else and feel very blessed that it's been so well received.

OT Randolph Street Market has been described as an urban street party rather than a traditional flea market. What goes into cultivating that atmosphere?
SS I always wanted this event to feel safe and be a safe place to transact business so the vendors are hand picked and screened. Because it's a two-day show, everyone gets to relax and have fun. Throw in the alcohol and people are loose and enjoying life. It's our cool vendors, many of whom camp out onsite, that make the event such a joy for the customers. We also have lots of big cops, Chicago's finest, as bouncers making sure everyone behaves. Chicago is such a unique place, even in the world of big cities, and the Randolph Street Market reflects it, a little wacky, a lot of quality.

OT Haggling at RSM, distasteful or necessary?
SS Haggling is just part of the game and the fun! Though many of our vendors report that they love our market so much because lots of the customers never beat them down in price at all. They think our Chicago customers are so fun and polite and appreciative. And apparently, that's unusual in the world of flea marketing!

OT What was it like to receive a mention from Oprah darling Nate Berkus?
SS I was totally thrilled the first time I saw Nate wandering about. I knew he would shout it from the rooftops. It's incredibly validating to have people with the means to travel anywhere and buy anything tell you how much they love what they see and buy at the Randolph Street Market.

OT This weekend you’re hosting pool parties and a photography competition.
SS The pool party is part of the high jinx, we fill kiddie pools and put lawn chairs around them and VOILA! Pool party! It keeps everyone cool in spirit and gives the pups a place to drink and romp. The first annual Vintage Vernacular & Street Style photo contest is another way for us to get our audience participating and using the market as a backdrop. There are so many fabulous photo ops and we just can't capture them all so we invite our attendees to try their hands at creating permanent memories.

My journalistic credo is borrowed from the theater world: don’t steal focus. As an interviewer, I’m a supporting player, my subject, the star. To this end, I strip questions to the bone, cut most personal asides, and shy away from quoting those capricious compliments the average interviewee pays.

Enter artist Tony Fitzpatrick; generous, insightful and endearingly loquacious—not your average interviewee.

I worry that including my end of our discussion appears self-indulgent. However, in the interest of accurately rendering Tony, I’ve put my usual reticence aside. As personable as he is talented, Tony has plenty to say about his politics, his travels, his inspirations, but he’s also genuinely curious about others. To interview Tony is to step into an ongoing conversation, one he carries on through his visual art, poetry and acting; one he has with neighbors and hobos and strangers who quickly become friends. Here's my contribution.

Our Town What inspired your new play, Stations Lost?
Tony Fitzpatrick I went to Istanbul to meet Muslims. I realized I didn’t know any. I had some a**hole at a dinner party tell me that the world wouldn’t be a peaceful place until we dealt with the Islamic problem. I said, “what do you mean by that,” and he said, “well, till we get rid of all the Muslims.” I said, “jihadists are like two percent, you understand that, right?” He goes, “name me one place in the world where Islamic people live in peace.” I said, “Istanbul, since 1927.” So, then he slides his glasses down his nose and he goes “have you beeeeen to Istanbul?” I said “no, but I’ll tell you what, the next time we speak I will have been.” And I went. And I’ll tell you, I found more brotherhood and kindness and generosity among a culture of Muslims than I did driving across America. So much for who we fear.

OT This is your second show with Ann Filmer. To what do you attribute the success of your collaborations?
TF Her laser sharp ability to adapt. We carved away a lot of great pieces and went down to the most muscular ones. Just as with [first collaboration]This Train, she very gently told me where the lines were, let me know what was germane, helped prune what didn’t belong and shape it into a really dynamic piece. Were it up to me she would have taken a co-writing credit for Stations Lost, but she said, “every word is yours.” I showed her my diaries and told her, I think there’s a show in here about fear and faith and the folly of wanting faith. I worked in radio for ten years. When I hear O’Reilly and Limbaugh, these are the guys who chased me out of radio. They’re the reason I didn’t want to work there anymore; it became this culture of hate. They wrap it up in fear and they kite tail it with faith, like if you’re a Christian you believe this or that; well, thank God I’m an atheist. So, the show is about the aural wallpaper that surrounds us as Americans and how they attempted to teach me faith as a kid. Now look, this all sounds really heavy, but it’s really funny. You’ve seen my shows; I’m a funny motherf**ker. So what’s going on with you?

OT Me? I have a book coming out next spring.
TF It’s about time, goddamnit.

OT I don’t know what to expect-
TF Expect to spend no small amount of time promoting it and let me know what I can do to help.

OT That’s really generous, but you don’t have to do that.
TF I’d like to. You want to do a book signing at the gallery? My gallery is a cool place; people come there.

OT Tell me a little about your gallery.
TF Firecat? It was my studio for seventeen years and I closed it as a studio and turned it into a gallery where we show artists who I think deserve to be better known. You know, Stan [Klein] and me made a list of artists, and everyone on the list it was like, why aren’t these men and women a bigger part of the conversation? I said to Stan, “what could we afford to lose between us,” and he said, “comfortably, maybe $3000 a month.” We figured that was enough to budget the gallery. We take no percentage of the artists’ sales. We print a poster, do a mailing and invite all our collectors. Our friends from 3Floyds supply the beer, and then we usually throw a little after-party at my house.

Here are things I pretend to understand:
Numbers longer than four digits
Fractals
The word ‘hegemony’
The difference between broasting and roasting
Twitter direct messaging
Why the Beatles are important
The problem with free radicals
How to tell time
Post-modernism

I got to thinking about these items while reading Psycho Dream Factory, Chicago writer/artist and Green Lantern Press founder Caroline Picard’s gorgeous new book. In the introduction, Lily Robert-Foley writes that the stories collected within the volume deal with reappropriated images, with copies that destroy the original; that Picard’s work makes “an explosion between the point of origin and the point of arrival, thereby opening a new space.”

I’m pretty sure Robert-Foley believes CDF postmodern. Here are my clues:
-this word pairing: copy/original
-gathering tension between my shoulder blades

I kind of assume everyone understands everything better than I mostly because whenever I call my mother to ask how to hard-boil eggs she either says “Same way as last time,” or “How do you not know how to do this yet?” But just in case you’re similarly confused about post-modernism, when I spoke with the seriously brilliant Picard about her celebrity-sprinkled book and the show she’s concocted in conjunction, I swallowed my pride (also my gum, but that’s another story) and asked her to explain post-modernism. Turns out even those who function within post-modernism are more concerned with making art than labeling it. As it should be. Now if only I can find someone to teach me how to pronounce San Luis Obispo.

Our Town Give me a one-paragraph crash course in post-modernism.
Caroline Picard I will fail miserably. [A teacher] showed me a Derrida art piece. He set up a chair in a gallery. Next to the chair he'd posted a photograph of the chair. Next to that he'd posted text: "chair." I think my teacher said, "This is postmodernism." I liked the teacher because she was an angry old hippy who cussed under her breath; because I liked her I believed I understood. The truth is, I wasn't exactly thinking about postmodernism when I wrote these stories. I was thinking about how you can take celebrities and use them like dolls.

OT You do, however deal with the issue of sameness, which is kind of postmodern, right?
CP I got interested in appropriating images and manipulating them. I was thinking a lot about Woody Allen's movies, how--particularly in his films with young people (like Christina Ricci and Jason Briggs, for instance) actors imitate Woody Allen's style of speech and behavior. In Anything Else, you suddenly have more than one Woody Allen-ite in every scene. When Ricci and Briggs talk to one another they reflect a similar neurotic affect back and forth. When that happens, I feel like the narrative of the story collapses; as a viewer I'm suddenly more interested in the directorial conversations that lead to this display of sameness than I am in the actual movie. I suddenly wonder about the actors' freedom [within this] narcissistic Woody Allen fantasy. Also, a book I was reading about Michael Jackson brought up this idea that everywhere he turned, he saw some version of himself. In a car, he would hear his songs on the radio, at the grocery store he might see himself in the tabloids. What happens to "the self" under those circumstances?

OT Why do celebrities fascinate us?
CP I’m into thinking about their placement, particularly in supermarkets. They’re all over the aisles before you check out--so clearly as a thing to consume. Also they're next to candy; these images of lifestyle connect directly sustenance. At the same time, the worldview perpetuated by magazines like Us or Star is really narrow--lots of white people talking about babies and the celebration or collapse of monogamy. Who got what new plastic surgery. I feel like celebrities also represent a particular and pervasive idea of success--one that spreads through other fields. Fame and recognition is a measure of achievement. The marketability of oneself is more important (in many cases) than the integrity of what is being produced. The actor is legitimized if he or she gets a spot on a glossy magazine. In a more general way, those ideas of success speak to a very basic desire to be acknowledged, recognized and known but that impulse has become commensurate with human capital. Something to be bought and sold. One sort of amazing example, celebrity perfume. You can buy J-lo perfume, or Jessica Simpson perfume. A kind of purchasing of essence to fulfill some deep desire to become them.

Photo by Stephanie Richardson and Jeff Steinmetz

John Stamos may be tweeting backstage passes to Beach Boys fans and Lady Gaga personally Facebooking with followers, but in this moment of increasing celebrity accessibility, folk group Girlyman can honestly say they did it first and maybe with more integrity.

Formed in 2001, the band has always maintained a close relationship with their supporters, arguably grounds for their consistently swelling fan base. However, according to band member Ty Greenstein, it was member Doris Muramatsu’s 2010 leukemia diagnosis, that further solidified that unique connection. Now in addition to down to earth post-gig conversations and personally mailed CDs, the girly people have begun openly blogging about everything from body dysmorphia to musical self-doubt.

While on tour, Greenstein spoke with Our Town about Muramatsu’s positive prognosis, recent addition, JJ Jones and why the band will never change its name.

Our Town Most bands say the secret to maintaining a good working relationship is time apart, but Girlyman socializes on and off the road. Why does it work?
Ty Greenstein We really are best friends, soul mates who share a life path. The bond was personal first. Our lives lined up in this incredible way so we get to be in a band together and take our life lessons into our work. That's really how it happened, not the other way around where a band of random musicians gets together and hopes they have some personal chemistry. In some ways the band is a theater where we can play out all our dynamics and work through whatever comes up, which we're all committed to doing. If things feel good in the relationships, the music also feels solid, and if personal revolutions are happening, I think you can hear it in the music or see it in the shows.

OT Recently you added JJ to the group. Was the addition as seamless as it appeared?
TG It really was. I forget she's a newcomer; we all laugh at the same jokes, obsess over good food, and have long conversations about the meaning of life. Her vision for the band is very much in line with ours; we want to keep opening people up in all kinds of ways with music, and basically just have fun and keep growing. But she also has a freshness to her approach and a perspective that having done this for almost ten years, we sometimes lack. Sometimes we forget how lucky we are to have gotten this far.

OT You famously have a very open relationship with your fans. Any regrets?
TG After Doris was diagnosed in November, that kind of blew the whole thing open. We were all personally shaken and humbled. I was facing the mortality of my best friend of thirty years, plus the specter of an end to the band and my career. I didn't care anymore about arbitrary divisions between "performer" and "fan," and frankly, the fans helped get us through. They wrote to us, prayed and visualized for us, sent packages and donations and inundated Doris with love. Everyone should have that kind of support network when the sh*t hits the fan. We know how lucky we are, and how special our fans are.

OT How is Doris?
TG She's doing really great, responding very well to the drug she's on. She's active and for the most part, leads a normal life. This is largely thanks to the incredible advances in CML treatment over the past ten years. The drug she's on was only approved as a first-line treatment a month before her diagnosis, talk about being born at the right time. These targeted therapies have turned CML from a terminal disease where people had a few years at most, to a chronic illness that just needs to be managed. At her three-month checkup, Doris went from 100% leukemic cells at diagnosis down to 4%.

OT What was the personal and professional impact on the band?
TG In six words or less, it has put everything into perspective. Doris started keeping a blog about her health on CaringBridge, and then we basically turned our whole website into a blog where we post our thoughts about life in general, in addition to pictures and videos of the band in action and behind the scenes. I think the whole "fame" thing has been transformed in a great way with social networking and real time interaction via the internet. Everyone is just a person now, and we're sharing our lives.

OT What can fans do to help?
TG Please keep coming to the shows. And if you want to make a donation to Doris or to the band, you can do so at http://girlyman.com/donate/

OT Careers in the arts can be rife with disappointment. Any derailing early experiences you could share?
TG Plenty. Before Girlyman, when it was just me and Doris as the Garden Verge, we once played a gig where so few people came that not only didn't we make anything but we had to pay the sound guy his fifty bucks out of our own pockets. Then when Girlyman formed, there were plenty of places that wouldn't book us, even for free. Those early days can be pretty rough. I've blocked out a lot of it. We once played a whole show to one person. That was pretty special.

Photo by Honey Lee Cottrell

For almost three decades, feminist sex writer Susie Bright has taken America on a guided tour of her sex life, offering political ruminations, writing advice and titillating anecdotes. But what do we really know about her life outside of the bedroom? Her new memoir, “Big Sex, Little Death” addresses this omission, offering characteristically frank, often startling accounts of topics as varied as Bright’s early work as a founding member of Teamsters for a Democratic Union, her fraught family life, and the truth behind her ongoing feud with anti-sex crusaders.

Our Town Why write a memoir now?
Susie Bright When the publisher approached me, my parents had died recently and I was learning things I never would have discovered if they were alive. I thought I knew everything about my family, but there are people who come out of the woodwork, there’s a box of letters that falls in your lap. I also had a twenty-year perspective on the highlights of the feminist sex wars, things I didn’t discuss when we were in the thick of it. It’s funny how some of the biggest things in your life, you realize you’ve never told anyone.

OT You write that women’s memoirs are often diet books or tell-alls. Why?
SB It’s the snake biting its own tale. Mainstream media and publishers say no to anything truly original. I once proposed a book about my experience as a sex positive feminist and parent to one of my former publishers who said, ‘You can’t be a mom and a sex goddess at the same time.’ I laughed my ass off, although I could only laugh so much because it was a rejection. The professional climate is rife with male chauvinism. A friend of mine’s daughter recently got an editing post at a digital media company, but she wants to do international reporting. She’ll hafta buy her own ticket and airdrop herself into the gnarliest situation she can, because of the gender rigidity in mainstream media publishing. There’s a tracking regime, like, ‘Would you like to write about diapers? How about edit these very important men’s work? You don’t want to do news and hard Op-ed, are you kidding? Wouldn’t you feel better working in PR and marketing and all these other areas where strangely, there are lots of other women?’ We’re faced with those obstacles, which you can get really mad about, and stamp your feet, but you might also find you’re participating. It’s not enough for me to worry about where I get to publish or what I get to say. What am I doing in terms of publishing other women’s real life adventure stories? If I’m not doing that then I can just shut up.

OT Reading your book, I was struck by your bravery. You talked your way out of many explosive situations. Do you look back in amazement?
SB In the moment I didn’t have any doubts. Like, I have to hitchhike to San Francisco, what the hell are you doing obstructing my path with your gun and your psychosis? Afterward is when you open your eyes in the middle of the night. In a narrative, of course, those elements are dramatic highlights. Most of the time my life could be called ‘the kindness of strangers.’ I’m talking to you from Baltimore, where I’ve just been kissed and fed and treated like a queen by people I’d never met. Being plugged in and open to new experiences is definitely worth it.

OT You write about anti-sex advocate Kittie Mackinnon publicly decrying porn and rough sex, but privately sleeping with a woman who in your mind embodied kinky sex. Why do people like her condemn what they enjoy?
SB Look at the GOP Christian zealots who get caught with their pants down in the public square. Same reason, they believe they’re special. If they have a kinky sex life, if they like naughty pictures, if they entertain themselves with taboos, if they have secret prostitute friends, they can handle it because they’re different, they’re entitled. You see this all the time among the uber elite. It’s an aristocratic point of view, which is why sexual freedoms and sexual speech is the foundation of democracy, the litmus test. If people can’t make their own decisions about their sex life and speak freely about it--we’re talking everything from reproductive rights to what you like to fantasize about-- it means there’s a group of people setting up and enforcing public policy in vindictive and prejudiced ways.

Interviewing someone you’ve never heard of is easy. Sure you gotta research, but becoming informed on a deadline is cake compared to fielding a phone call from an icon. Amber Benson may be a minor mainstream star, but for fans of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” she’s a major deity. Thankfully, she’s also one of the most genuine, forthcoming celebrities I’ve had the privilege of interviewing. On the final leg of her book tour, Benson hits Challengers Comics Saturday April 9th, and she’s looking forward to it, but maybe not as much as she’s looking forward to grabbing a burger while she’s in town.

Our Town How’s the tour?
Amber Benson A little crazy. I feel like I haven’t been home in months. We had a really amazing turn out in New York and Houston, people waiting in the rain, crazy stuff.

OT You knew early you wanted to act. When did that goal crystallize?
AB I was a hyperactive child. My mom put me in ballet and lots of after school programs to wear me out so I would sleep. I remember being onstage in “The Nutcracker,” this little marshmallow rolling out of some guys skirt and realizing I did not like ballet. It’s beautiful and I appreciate it, but the rigor was not very appealing as a child. But being onstage and having people clap? That was like catnip, so I sort of matriculated over to the drama world.

OT Acting led you to everything from producing to writing for TV to novels; surprising or part of the plan?
AB If you have a brain and you’re a woman, being one thing isn’t enough. As a creative individual, you have to diversify. Plus you can’t really make a living as an actor. A small percentage does, but then there’s everybody else who’s struggling. As an actor, you’re regurgitating somebody else’s dialogue invented in their world rather than yours. I knew I would go crazy just being an actor. I had always written short stories, bad poetry, plays, that sort of thing. When I was approached about doing the Willow/Tara comics for Dark Horse, I was excited to try something new and writing-centric. After the BBC read the comics, Chris Golden and I were asked to do the “Ghosts of Albion,” an animated program. Then Random House asked us to novelize that universe, so that was my entré into writing long form prose.

OT "Death’s Daughter" was your first solo novel. Since then you’ve written two more. Is it getting easier?
AB I’m at work on the fourth as we speak. You have to treat writing like a business. I like to go places to write. Like, ok, I’m leaving to go to my office. I try to do 1500 to 3000 words every time I sit down. It’s daunting to see a blank computer screen and know you have to fill it with 90 to 100,000 words. But the process gets easier—maybe easier is the wrong word. I get better at the process because I’m doing it more. Especially revisio where the book comes together. You vomit it up as a first draft, then go back and rewrite until you get it to a place where it’s not vomit anymore, it’s cotton candy.

OT You blog, tweet and are active on facebook. Social media, boon for artists or distraction?
AB Traditional ways of reaching people don’t work anymore. Magazines and newspapers are going under, everything is becoming internet based. You have to use what you got and what we have is social media. It puts you in connection with fans in a very intimate way. It’s awesome but frightening because all the walls separating the creative from the real world are knocked down.

OT Any social media regrets?
AB I did something just stupid. I was trying to direct message a friend to give them my new e-mail address and whoops, it popped up on Twitter for everybody to see. But I work hard not to talk about where I am while I’m there. I was at the New York comic-con a couple years ago and another writer, a friend, Anton Struass was at the booth and I tweeted, “I’m at such and such booth,” and then I went to do my signing and he’s like, “dude you left and a bunch of people came over, going ‘where’s Amber, she says she’s here.’” I’m learning you have to be protective of your personal space. I’m not on Foursquare. If I get checked in it’s somebody else doing it and I have to beat them up later.

When it comes to jewelry, designer Erin Gordon knows what she likes, and happily, Chicago likes it too. A New York transplant, Gordon began her line of jewelry as a hobby, but by 2009, she was selling her signature semi-precious gemstone charm bracelets direct to customers and at Sarca, a Gold Coast boutique. Demand escalated, however, and in response, Gordon is launching an e-commerce site, allowing her growing customer base to shop at their convenience. Gordon spoke with Our Town about her favorite designs, her new men’s line and the style-setter she hopes will be Bah-nanas over her work.

Our Town What’s the first piece of jewelry you remember owning?
Erin Gordon When I was very young, my grandparents had a ring made with my birthstone and diamonds for me to wear when it was time for my Bat Mitzvah.

OT What inspires you?
EG So many things, from friends, family and favorite quotes, to fashion, colors, prints, fabrics, art and photography.

OT Which of your designs are you most excited about right now?
EG I recently launched a brand new Luxe Line which will be available on my website in April. With the Luxe Line, I am using luxury gemstones like Malachite, Leopard Skin Agate and Cloudy Quartz with rose gold and rondelle crystal ball accents. The Luxe Line can either be worn alone or mixed in with bracelets from my core collection to add a little extra sparkle.

OT What would you say to others interested in making their hobby a business?
EG I am so lucky I was able to turn my passion for jewelry design into a business. It’s definitely been a learning experience over the past year but if you truly love what you do, it’s worth all of the hard work and dedication it requires to be successful.

OT You’re known for your charm bracelets, a retro concept. However, your take seems current. How do you achieve a look both modern and vintage?
EG When I initially launched my jewelry line, I focused on creating one-of-a-kind pieces using vintage brooches and charms mixed with new gemstones. With the popularity of my vintage pieces, I expanded my collection with signature bracelets that reflect a modern take on a charm bracelet using vibrant gemstones and edgy charms like skulls, Buddha’s, peace signs and feathers.

I’ll admit it; singer/songwriter Shawn Mullins seemed to me a one trick pony, his songs the stuff of grocery stores and drive-by car radios. But last December I had the privilege of seeing Mullins at The Chicago House of Blues. An intimate songwriter’s circle-style show with recently out musician Chely Wright and folk/rock mainstays The Indigo Girls, the event afforded me my first true glimpse of Mullin’s lyrical dexterity and vocal power. Easy to pigeonhole Mullins based on mainstream hits like “Lullaby,” but also a mistake; “Lullaby” and its ilk are only the tip of the iceberg, with Mullins, greater things lie beneath.

Our Town Did you always want to be a musician?
Shawn Mullins Yeah, I didn’t know what else I would do, really. I had to do a little time in the military to help me pay for college, but that was never a career thing. I never really saw myself doing anything other than music.

OT Did your military time influence your songwriting or sensibility?
SM The experience of it comes out in songs, little bits and pieces here and there. I’ve done more than a few years of hardcore road travel, not so hardcore that I’m in a train car, but living in my van and traveling around that way, not staying in hotels, but just camping. The endurance of being in the military helped a little with that.

OT Do you enjoy touring?
SM It goes back and forth for me. I really do love the road, but now that I have my son at home, it’s harder to leave. It used to be, I did six or eight weeks, sometimes three months on the road, but now I’m doing a couple weeks at the most before I head back home.

OT Your songs are like little stories or character sketches. What draws you to that writing style?
SM Growing up, my dad really preached the classic American stuff like Hemingway and Steinbeck. I read a lot of the beat poets. I got really into the kind of American landscape with these characters living through a particular time in history. My favorite songwriters do that a lot too, people like Kristofferson and Dylan are obvious ones, but there are other people that aren’t as obvious, like Tom Waits. I’m a huge Tom Waits fan. I love the way he writes a character with really serious subject matter but really funny at the same time. I don’t know how successful I am at doing that, probably not very, but I love that kind of stuff.

OT You also count Indigo Girl, Amy Ray as a mentor. How did you two meet?
SM I met Amy when she was in her first year at Emory University and I was in ninth grade. She was a friend of one of the teachers and she came to my school to talk about songwriting and being a musician. She was doing exactly what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know exactly how to do it yet. She sang a couple songs and talked to us. That’s when we first got to know each other. She was influential with kind of following your bliss as a musician and just working really hard and doing it independently—that was years before they ever had a deal and I did it that way too for about two years. The passion, the energy she performs with, the persona she puts on, that’s pretty amazing.

Mostly, I work from home. Enviable, sure, but my motto is, why dwell on the positive?
Telecommuting, from the old Latin meaning ‘three days, same clothes,’ has a whole slew of pitfalls. Just off the top of my head, I count five:

1. Listening to the dog bite her nails all day. Sounds like she’s part woodpecker.

2. Proximity to peanut butter. I’ve reformed, but not too long ago I couldn’t keep a jar in the house without eating the whole thing and having to call in sick to work the next day. Office job work, not telecommuting which is Greek for only makes contact via facebook. I limit myself to a few spoonfuls now, but I never forget that spreadable temptress is waiting.

3. Distraction via housework. Even a year ago I might have pooh-poohed this very serious issue. But when my biological clock ticks, it sounds like laundry being folded. (You have to listen carefully to hear it). I still don’t want kids, but man do I love to iron.

4. The compulsion to break for yoga. What’s ninety minutes, I think. Besides, the dog gets so caught up watching me she forgets to bite her nails.

5. Reality television. I don’t have cable, so it took me longer than most to rope this bucking bronco, but a few months back I hit some sort of tipping point. I’d been hearing the name Rachel Zoe for years, and suddenly I had to know more. Although it meant watching the show in eight-minute increments on Youtube, I made it through four seasons. Turns out, Rachel Zoe was my gateway drug. Next came the Kardashians, available on Netflix instant. (Khloe is my favorite. I’m happy to discuss.) Then, just because I could…"The Real Housewives of New York City." Before I continue, a clarification: I don’t watch TV rather than work. I do both at once. Don’t judge. I still spend a fair amount of time waltzing with my muse, but some of my writing jobs involve entering data, editing press releases, all activities that have been scientifically proven to benefit from having skinny women with New York accents shouting in the background. Cheaper to hang out with the housewives than move to New York.

It was in this way I came to learn about a Ms. Bethenny Frankel.

I love Dolly. Not “Hello Dolly” star Carol Channing who I’m terrified lurks in my basement. Dolly Parton, responsible for songs as diverse as “I Will Always Love You,” and my personal favorite, the haunting “Jolene.” Dolly Parton who starred in the 1979 movie, “Nine to Five,” which I watched no less than fifty times when I was in junior high. Sure, I could have been out developing my interpersonal skills, but then what would I have done in my late twenties when everyone else was getting married? Besides, what at the time felt like social failure, in retrospect looks like a self-initiated education in comedy and feminism. “Nine to Five” is a tight, smart gem of a movie, still tart and relevant even in 2011. While its enduring significance is largely due to the caliber of its three female leads, the script itself is trenchant and witty, aiming to educate and entertain.

When I heard “Nine to Five The Musical” would hit Chicago for a limited two-week engagement, I was jazzed…and dubious. While plays like the aforementioned “Hello Dolly” have been making the journey from stage to screen, the film to live musical flip is a recent phenomena. “The Producers” managed it. But for other movies/plays, particularly those submerged in nostalgia, the transition comes less fluidly. (“Dirty Dancing The Musical,” go to your corner!) Perhaps lazy writers bank on a viewer’s tendency to insert her own memories into a given work. Perhaps nervous producers fear a film’s plot won’t withstand the move to stage. Whatever the reason, nostalgia alone cannot carry a play.

Inside the Bank of America Theatre, I was greeted by a brightly colored scrim decked in a late 70’s motif. Pictures of Cher, Charlie’s Angels, references to The Scarsdale Diet, all boldly beckoned. As the lights dimmed and Dolly Parton took the stage to introduce the show, I hoped for the best. Inexplicably introduced by Illinois Governor, Patrick Quin, Dolly sparkled in a calf-length spangled dress. Characteristically charming and sassy, she described her reaction to being asked to create the score for "Nine to Five." “I’ll try anything,” she said, adding, “if you like the show, tell your friends and if you don’t, keep your big mouth shut.

Thus my dilemma; I’d be roughly two hundred words under my count if I respected Dolly’s wishes.

BY SARAH TEREZ ROSENBLUM

As a kid I loved The Keatons. A fictional family, but unabashedly liberal and loving, they reminded me of my own family, just funnier. Like my dad, Steven Keaton even sported a beard. While Alex was my crush and unlikely fashion muse (baseball shirts, dark Levis and red windbreakers? Check check check.), Elise intrigued me. My best friend’s mother, Barb, was a lesbian, an open secret I wouldn’t discover for a few years. For reasons I couldn’t articulate, Elise reminded me of Barb.

When Meredith Baxter outed herself on the Today show in 2009, I felt as if I’d always known. Whether or not Baxter, married three times, spent her life dodging the obvious or truly came to her lesbianism later in life, her sexual fluidity seems part of a recent trend: celebrities like Cynthia Nixon and Kelly McGillis going gay.

Queer culture vulture and lesbian writer Trish Bendix is one of many women writing on the subject in a new anthology, “Dear John, I Love Jane.” A forthright investigation of female sexuality and personal choice, the book is comprised of essays, some witty, some wrenching, about women leaving men for women.

Bendix, who spoke with Our Town about sexual mutability and Elise’s exodus, will read from the collection at 7:30 p.m., Friday November 12th at Women and Children First.

Our Town Tell us about the anthology.

Trish Bendix Seal Press publishes some of the best feminist and queer books, especially when it comes to collections. Around the time the editors were putting out a call for submissions, there was this craze with Kelly McGillis and Meredith Baxter coming out, so a lot of publications were writing pieces on "the late in life lesbian." I came out at age 20 - not exactly middle age. When I heard about “Dear John, I Love Jane,” I wondered if I'd be the right fit or not, but my essay fits right in amongst the writings from women of all ages and places who assumed they were straight until attraction proved otherwise.

“Mike and Molly,” set right here in Chicago, follows a policeman and a teacher who meet through overeaters anonymous and embark on a romance. Born in Plainfield, Illinois and graduated from Joliet Catholic Academy, lead actress Melissa McCarthy is well equipped to play a Chicagoan of any size. But size takes center stage in the series and in Kelley’s strongly worded blog post.

Although Marie Claire is usually seen as one of the more body positive publications, its Editor in Chief Joanna Coles seems to support Kelly, calling her a “very provocative blogger,” as opposed to an insensitive fatophobe, and adding “this is a subject she feels very strongly about.” Interestingly, many others feel strongly about the subject as well, specifically those compared to drug addicts and told to stay seated rather than walk past a thin person.

I would never have called “Detroit” a clusterf**k had I known its star stood behind me. Laurie Metcalf, most famous for her nine-year stint as Jackie on "Roseanne," has been a Steppenwolf ensemble member since 1976. Although a walloping stage presence, in person Metcalf looks like any other Chicagoan, or at least any incredibly petite Chicagoan with perfectly formed knees.

Ricky Gervais
7:30 p.m. at Park West; $39-$50
The British funny man behind “The Office” brings his stand-up show to Chicago for the first time. Catch him tonight through Friday at Park West.

Serena Maneesh, Wovenhead
8 p.m. at Lincoln Hall; $12-$14
Norwegian outfit Serena Maneesh take the wall-of-noise sound predecessors like Sonic Youth and The Jesus and Mary Chain bled ears with and slather it something frantic, cutting angular guitar jabs over crunchy, distorted samples in their shadows. Then they turn on a pop dime with main songwriter Emil Nikolaisan handing over vocal duties to his sister, Elvira, coming off ambient and dreamy in her wails, that reveal their chill-wave influences. Openers Wovenhand rally some judgment day folk rock, footstomp and all, led by former 16 Horsepower lead singer David Eugene Edwards.

Free Lunch
11:30 a.m. at Roti Mediterranean Grill
Celebrate Roti’s one-year anniversary with free sandwiches and salads until 1 p.m. Feeling guilty about a free lunch? Make a donation to Common Threads while you’re there.

BY SARAH TEREZ-ROSENBLUM

For once I felt certain my feelings were reciprocated. Genuinely interested in my plans, he beamed when I approached, anticipated my needs, and let slip tidbits about his private life. The most significant sign? He never once forgot my drink order. Obviously, our love flowed pure and true.

Then one day he was gone, no more a barista, instead a full-time musician, and September’s Chicago Crush of the Month: Ian Westerfer, speaking on behalf of his band.

Name: Rod Tuffcurls and the Bench Press. Sorry bout that...

Hometown: Chicago is where we hang our collective hat (a large, awkward, oddly-shaped hat), but we play wherever the good lord takes us, as long as there's a couch to crash on and some decent cheese curds.

Profession: Rocking out!

Hobbies: Little known fact: The Bench Press invented the sport of Nutball. It's too detailed to explain in full; suffice it to say Rod won't play with us because he wants to have kids someday.

What inspired you to create a cover band? It all started when a friend wanted Rod to play at her wedding. Cue Hollywood montage of Rod chomping on a cigar, racing around Chicago in a red Lamborghini to beat the clock and recruit a ragtag band of music-playing mercenaries with funny names just days before the wedding – time's running out, gotta learn these songs, OH GOD not one of us owns a decent suit! And then we learned a bunch of songs and had fun and got paid and ate wedding cake.