My View From Las Vegas

MSN

2010-11-05T21:17:00.001-07:00

Very complete and in depth coverage of what is happening in the World at Large. Good starting point to disover what is current and important.
in reference to: MSN.com (view on Google Sidewiki)

My Blogs

2010-10-05T18:57:00.001-07:00

Some archival value for sure.

in reference to: Home - Windows Live (view on Google Sidewiki)

Photo

2006-03-25T23:44:00.000-08:00

2005-08-09T16:06:00.000-07:00

Reuters

An Iraqi walking through the aftermath of a suicide bombing in Baghdad that killed seven people and wounded at least 90

August 9, 2005
A Violent Day in Baghdad Kills More Than 20
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Filed at 6:20 p.m. ET

BAGHDAD, Iraq (AP) -- A suicide car bomber struck a U.S. convoy waiting at an intersection Tuesday in Baghdad, killing seven people -- including one American soldier -- and wounding more than 90. More than a dozen others died in scattered attacks across the capital.

Also, a U.S. Marine assigned to the 2nd Marine Division was killed Monday by small-arms fire in Ramadi, 70 miles west of Baghdad, the U.S. military said. The deaths brought the number of U.S. service members killed in Iraq this month to at least 32.

Violence raged as Iraqi political leaders showed little sign of compromise less than a week before a deadline for approving a new constitution. Faction leaders conferred for about four hours Tuesday night hoping to overcome their differences and produce a charter by Monday.

Participants said the talks focused on Kurdish demands for a federal state and although some progress was made, there was no final agreement on the issue. More talks were set for Wednesday.

The American convoy was stopped at a busy intersection when a driver detonated a vehicle packed with explosives, the U.S. Army said. Six Iraqi civilians also were killed; scores of Iraqis and two U.S. soldiers were wounded.

At least 1,836 members of the U.S. military have died since the Iraq war started in March 2003, according to an Associated Press count.

The United States hopes progress on the political front, including adoption of a democratic constitution, will help deflate the Sunni Arab-led rebellion and enable the Americans and their partners to begin withdrawing troops next year.

''It's important that they stay with their timetable'' on the constitution, Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld said Tuesday. ''This will be a critical step in persuading the majority of the Iraqis that the new Iraq is worth fighting for, that they have a stake in it.''

Rumsfeld told Pentagon reporters that the constitution ''could well turn out to be one of the most powerful weapons to be deployed against the terrorists'' and the insurgents are ''determined to stop the constitutional process through terror and intimidation.''

Late Tuesday, representatives of political factions met for a second round of talks aimed at breaking the deadlock over the constitution, which the parliament must approve by Aug. 15. Talks were postponed Monday by a severe sandstorm.

The constitution also needs approval from voters in an Oct. 15 referendum. Passage would lead to elections in mid-December.

At the beginning of the meeting, presidential spokesman Kamran Qaradaghi told reporters the latest talks would focus on federalism, distribution of wealth and the elections law.

Kurds demand that Iraq be transformed into a federal state so they can continue to run their autonomous mini-state in the north. Sunni Arabs oppose federalism because they fear the Kurds want to secede and dismember Iraq.

Kurdish leader Massoud Barzani joined the talks Tuesday. Barzani, who was stranded in northern Iraq by the sandstorms, has vowed not to compromise on federalism.

A prominent Sunni Arab on the constitutional committee, Saleh al-Mutlaq, suggested that federalism be decided by the parliament to be elected in December.

''We will not accept federalism in these circumstances,'' al-Mutlaq told The Associated Press. He warned that if Kurdish demands are accepted, ''they will have grave consequences'' for the future of Iraq. He did not elaborate.

Kurdish parliament member Mahmoud Othman said that during the meeting, U.S. Ambassador Zalmay Khalilzad repeatedly called President Jalal Talabani and parliament speaker Hajim al-Hassani for updates -- a sign of U.S. pressure for a deal.

''The problem is that they started discussing the most difficult issue,'' Othman said, referring to federalism.

Iraqi Prime Minister Ibrahim al-Jaafari, a Shiite, hinted that political leaders might not resolve all issues before next week's deadline but said he remained hopeful the draft could be completed by then.

''But if some matters block us ... then it might take a little time'' after the Monday deadline, he told AP.

Al-Jaafari said Iraqi leaders have struggled against deadlines before -- including forming a new government after January elections -- and were able to meet them.

Asked if leaders would succeed this time, he said: ''We hope so, God willing. I see that most of the groups have a strong will, and, God willing, we will cooperate to finish it.''

In other developments:

--U.S. troops Tuesday killed four insurgents trying to plant a roadside bomb in the city of Ramadi, police Lt. Mohammed al-Obeidi said.

--Violence targeting Iraqi police left 10 officers dead, including five policemen slain while sleeping in their car. Lt. Col. Ahmed Aboud said the men had spent the night on patrol and were waiting for replacements.

--Late Tuesday, gunmen killed an Iraqi Cabinet employee, Abbas Ibrahim Mohammed, in Baghdad. In addition, three civilians were killed in a mortar attack, police said.

--U.S. and Iraqi forces killed two insurgents and arrested 22 others in northern Iraq, the U.S. military said Tuesday. Soldiers from the U.S. Army's 3rd Battalion, 21st Infantry Regiment killed the insurgents, found setting up a mortar tube Monday in Mosul.

--The mayor of Baghdad, Alaa al-Timimi, was fired and responsibility for managing the city transferred to the provincial governor, government spokesman Laith Kubba said. He refused to say why the provincial council sacked the mayor.

--The mayor of Samawah, a southern Shiite city gripped by riots over lack of municipal services, resigned under pressure. The decision came Monday during a visit by delegates sent by the prime minister, according to Sheik Mohannad al-Gharrawi.

About 750 Japanese troops are based in Samawah, 230 miles southeast of Baghdad.

Associated Press writers Qassim Abdul-Zahra, Omar Sinan and Sinan Salaheddin contributed to this report.

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2005-08-09T15:57:00.000-07:00

August 9, 2005
Four in 9/11 Plot Are Called Tied to Qaeda in '00
By DOUGLAS JEHL

WASHINGTON, Aug. 8 -
More than a year before the Sept. 11 attacks, a small, highly classified military intelligence unit identified Mohammed Atta and three other future hijackers as likely members of a cell of Al Qaeda operating in the United States, according to a former defense intelligence official and a Republican member of Congress.

In the summer of 2000, the military team, known as Able Danger, prepared a chart that included visa photographs of the four men and recommended to the military's Special Operations Command that the information be shared with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the congressman, Representative Curt Weldon of Pennsylvania, and the former intelligence official said Monday.

The recommendation was rejected and the information was not shared, they said, apparently at least in part because Mr. Atta, and the others were in the United States on valid entry visas. Under American law, United States citizens and green-card holders may not be singled out in intelligence-collection operations by the military or intelligence agencies. That protection does not extend to visa holders, but Mr. Weldon and the former intelligence official said it might have reinforced a sense of discomfort common before Sept. 11 about sharing intelligence information with a law enforcement agency.

A former spokesman for the Sept. 11 commission, Al Felzenberg, confirmed that members of its staff, including Philip Zelikow, the executive director, were told about the program on an overseas trip in October 2003 that included stops in Afghanistan and Pakistan. But Mr. Felzenberg said the briefers did not mention Mr. Atta's name.

The report produced by the commission last year does not mention the episode.

Mr. Weldon first spoke publicly about the episode in June, in a little-noticed speech on the House floor and in an interview with The Times-Herald in Norristown, Pa. The matter resurfaced on Monday in a report by GSN: Government Security News, which is published every two weeks and covers domestic-security issues. The GSN report was based on accounts provided by Mr. Weldon and the same former intelligence official, who was interviewed on Monday by The New York Times in Mr. Weldon's office.

In a telephone interview from his home in Pennsylvania, Mr. Weldon said he was basing his assertions on similar ones by at least three other former intelligence officers with direct knowledge of the project, and said that some had first called the episode to his attention shortly after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

The account is the first assertion that Mr. Atta, an Egyptian who became the lead hijacker in the plot, was identified by any American government agency as a potential threat before the Sept. 11 attacks. Among the 19 hijackers, only Khalid al-Mihdhar and Nawaf al-Hazmi had been identified as potential threats by the Central Intelligence Agency before the summer of 2000, and information about them was not provided to the F.B.I. until the spring of 2001.

Mr. Weldon has long been a champion of the kind of data-mining analysis that was the basis for the work of the Able Danger team.

The former intelligence official spoke on the condition of anonymity, saying he did not want to jeopardize political support and the possible financing for future data-mining operations by speaking publicly. He said the team had been established by the Special Operations Command in 1999, under a classified directive issued by Gen. Hugh Shelton, then the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, to assemble information about Al Qaeda networks around the world.

"Ultimately, Able Danger was going to give decision makers options for taking out Al Qaeda targets," the former defense intelligence official said.

He said that he delivered the chart in summer 2000 to the Special Operations Command headquarters in Tampa, Fla., and said that it had been based on information from unclassified sources and government records, including those of the Immigration and Naturalization Service.

"We knew these were bad guys, and we wanted to do something about them," the former intelligence official said.

The unit, which relied heavily on data-mining techniques, was modeled after those first established by Army intelligence at the Land Information Warfare Assessment Center, now known as the Information Dominance Center, at Fort Belvoir, Va., the official said.

Mr. Weldon is an outspoken figure who is a vice chairman of both the House Armed Services Committee and the House Homeland Security Committee. He said he had recognized the significance of the episode only recently, when he contacted members of the military intelligence team as part of research for his book, "Countdown to Terror: The Top-Secret Information That Could Prevent the Next Terrorist Attack on America and How the C.I.A. Has Ignored It."

Mr. Weldon's book prompted one veteran C.I.A. case officer to strongly dispute the reliability of one Iranian source cited in the book, saying the Iranian "was a waste of my time and resources."

Mr. Weldon said that he had discussed the Able Danger episode with Representative Peter Hoekstra, the Michigan Republican who is chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, and that at least two Congressional committees were looking into the episode.

In the interview on Monday, Mr. Weldon said he had been aware of the episode since shortly after the Sept. 11 attack, when members of the team first brought it to his attention. He said he had told Stephen J. Hadley, then the deputy national security adviser, about it in a conversation in September or October 2001, and had been surprised when the Sept. 11 commission report made no mention of the operation.

Col. Samuel Taylor, a spokesman for the military's Special Operations Command, said no one at the command now had any knowledge of the Able Danger program, its mission or its findings. If the program existed, Colonel Taylor said, it was probably a highly classified "special access program" on which only a few military personnel would have been briefed.

During the interview in Mr. Weldon's office, the former defense intelligence official showed a floor-sized chart depicting Al Qaeda networks around the world that he said was a larger, more detailed version similar to the one prepared by the Able Danger team in the summer of 2000.

He said the original chart, like the new one, had included the names and photographs of Mr. Atta and Marwan al-Shehhi, as well as Mr. Mihdhar and Mr. Hazmi, who were identified as members of what was described as an American-based "Brooklyn" cell, as one of five such Al Qaeda cells around the world.

The official said the link to Brooklyn was meant as a term of art rather than to be interpreted literally, saying that the unit had produced no firm evidence linking the men to the borough of New York City but that a computer analysis seeking to establish patterns in links between the four men had found that "the software put them all together in Brooklyn."

According to the commission report, Mr. Mihdhar and Mr. Hazmi were first identified in late 1999 or 2000 by the C.I.A. as Qaeda members who might be involved in a terrorist operation. They were tracked from Yemen to Malaysia before their trail was lost in Thailand. Neither man was put on a State Department watch list before they flew to Los Angeles in early 2000. The F.B.I. was not warned about them until the spring of 2001, and no efforts to track them were made until August 2001.

Neither Mr. Shehhi nor Mr. Atta was identified by the American intelligence agencies as a potential threat, the commission report said. Mr. Shehhi arrived in Newark on a flight from Brussels on May 29, 2000, and Mr. Atta arrived in Newark from Prague on June 3 that year.

The former intelligence official said the first Able Danger report identified all four men as members of a "Brooklyn" cell, and was produced within two months after Mr. Atta arrived in the United States. The former intelligence official said he was among a group that briefed Mr. Zelikow and at least three other members of the Sept. 11 commission staff about Able Danger when they visited the Afghanistan-Pakistan region in October 2003.

The official said he had explicitly mentioned Mr. Atta as a member of a Qaeda cell in the United States. He said the staff encouraged him to call the commission when he returned to Washington at the end of the year. When he did so, the ex-official said, the calls were not returned.

Mr. Felzenberg, the former Sept. 11 commission spokesman, said on Monday that he had talked with some of the former staff members who participated in the briefing.

"They all say that they were not told anything about a Brooklyn cell," Mr. Felzenberg said. "They were told about the Pentagon operation. They were not told about the Brooklyn cell. They said that if the briefers had mentioned anything that startling, it would have gotten their attention."

As a result of the briefing, he said, the commission staff filed document requests with the Pentagon for information about the program. The Pentagon complied, he said, adding that the staff had not hidden anything from the commissioners.

"The commissioners were certainly told of the document requests and what the findings were," Mr. Felzenberg said.

Philip Shenon and Eric Schmitt contributed reporting for this article.

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2005-08-09T15:18:00.000-07:00

Courtesy of the Statue of Liberty National Monument, the Ellis Island Immigration Museum and the Aperture Foundation

When Old and New World Met in a Camera Flash
By KATHRYN SHATTUCK

If Peter Mesenh?ller expected to find the misery of the tired, the poor, the wretched emanating from a few photographs displayed in the Ellis Island Immigration Museum the day he first visited in 1996, he was in for a surprise. "I immediately got stunned by the dignity, the pride, the self-confidence," Mr. Mesenh?ller, a cultural anthropologist specializing in early still photography and immigration studies, said by phone from his home in Cologne, Germany. "It was totally different from the usual image we have of the huddled masses."

Mr. Mesenh?ller had alighted on the photography of Augustus Frederick Sherman, a registry clerk in Ellis Island's immigration division in the early 20th century. In the hours when he wasn't determining the fate of some of the thousands of immigrants disembarking daily in New York Harbor from foreign vessels, he was coaxing the hopeful to open their trunks, don their finest attire and level their gaze at his camera.

Some 75 photographs of these immigrants are on view at the Ellis Island museum in "Augustus Frederick Sherman: Ellis Island Portraits 1905-1920." Organized by Mr. Mesenh?ller and Diana Edkins, director of exhibitions and limited-edition prints for the Aperture Foundation, a nonprofit photography organization, the show coincides with the group's publication of a book of the same title with 40 more images. The show continues through Sept. 6 before traveling to 16 sites in the United States and abroad.

Understanding Mr. Mesenh?ller's fascination - obsession, really - requires no great stretch of the imagination. As they hover disconcertingly between art and artifact, Sherman's portraits are powerful in their directness yet almost antiseptic in their disaffection.

Dressed gallantly in their native costumes, solemn families and individuals announce themselves to their new world with no apologies. A Romanian shepherd sits with hand on hip, his decoratively embroidered sheepskin coat opened to reveal a lush pelt of curly wool. A Ruthenian, from Ukraine, stares out with pale eyes, her neck encircled by loops of iridescent beads above a peasant blouse and shearling vest. Two men from Borana, in Ethiopia, with sculptural hair ornaments sticking straight up from their heads display their shields; the woman between them hides her hair beneath a wrap.

Striking though they are, the portraits are only nominally personal, annotated occasionally by simple captions but mostly left unexplained: "Eleazar Kaminetzko - 26 - Russian Hebrew SS Hamburg June 23 - 1914. Vegetarian," Sherman wrote on the photograph of a young man with enormous eyes and long, glossy curls. Only a few details, like "Col. Helen R. Bastedo + Osman Lewis, 13, Belgian Stowaway," make up the 1921 caption for a boy with floppy hair and Sunday suit, his arm around the waist of an unrelated woman who protectively cups his hand. And then, with fedora, spectacles and pale smudge of mustache, there is Mary Johnson, 50, from Canada, who, Sherman wrote, "came as 'Frank Woodhull' " on Oct. 4, 1908, and "dressed 15 yrs in men's clothes."

Information on Sherman is nearly as scant. He was born on July 9, 1865, in Lynn, Pa., Mr. Mesenh?ller said, and was a member of the Episcopal Church; he was hired by the executive division of the Bureau of Immigration at Ellis Island in 1892, eight years after moving to New York, and moved up through the ranks.

"We've been looking for personnel files throughout the United States with all the official records and didn't find anything," Mr. Mesenh?ller said. "Up to now, Sherman is a question mark in a way."

Mr. Mesenh?ller speculates that as a higher-level officer, Sherman had unfettered access to the island's detention area, where immigrants were held for a day, a week or a few months after routine questioning raised doubts about whether they should be allowed in the country.

"The technical procedures in those days were very difficult," he said. "You had these huge tripod cameras and the exposure took how many seconds, and you had to get the lighting just right and have your subjects sit perfectly still. And with an average of about 5,000 people each day coming through Ellis Island at peak times, it must have been quite an undertaking."

In an essay in the book, Mr. Mesenh?ller writes that historians view these images as "one of the most substantial photographic records of that period of mass immigration."

Capturing his subjects against mostly plain backgrounds in the native finery they would soon discard for American clothing, Sherman simultaneously documented the richness of their heritage while labeling them specimens for anthropologic scrutiny. "Sherman considered these people as ethnic types, being representative of the new American species," said Mr. Mesenh?ller, who called on a broad swath of colleagues to help him identify the origins of various costumes and discern the differences in, say, the headdresses of Protestant and Catholic women from the Netherlands.

In addition to Sherman's Dutch, Italian, Romanian, Moroccan and Finnish prototypes, there are also the "oddities" - the giants and dwarves, the microcephalics, the physically deformed - he cataloged in later years.

Still, the Aperture Foundation's Ms. Edkins said, the photographer "didn't impose his own feeling on these people. He really showed it in a very stripped-down documentarylike way."

Such images may hold particular interest today "because immigration is so much in our mind," she said. "You know, we shed those things, those differences. We're all jeans and Gap and now there's a commonality."

Roy Glerum of Totowa, N.J., the son of one of those Ellis Island immigrants, said the reality of the melting pot hit him at the exhibition's opening in June. There he saw his father's 12-year-old eyes peering out at him from Sherman's 1907 portrait of his Dutch grandparents and their 11 children. Pinned to their chests was the number of the ship that would take them back to the Netherlands if they failed to pass inspection.

Mr. Glerum's grandfather, Dingenis, had sold his lobster boat to finance the family's journey. Growing up in New Jersey, Mr. Glerum's father, Fran?ois, soon known as Frank, took odd jobs running a bakery wagon before apprenticing as a shop boy at the Manhattan Rubber Company and working his way into an electrician's position, from which he retired 50 years later.

"My dad talked very, very little about earlier life," Mr. Glerum, 78, said. "He didn't want us to speak Dutch. He felt that being in America was the greatest thing and that we never needed to learn about the rest."

His recent museum visit was his first to Ellis Island, Mr. Glerum said. "I was really overwhelmed," he added. "Not knowing the language, giving up everything to come over here - I just thought they must have had great courage."

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2005-08-09T15:16:00.000-07:00

Courtesy of the Statue of Liberty National Monument, the Ellis Island Immigration Museum and the Aperture Foundation

2005-07-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

Alexander Chadwick/Associated Press

July 17, 2005
Battlefields
By RICHARD A. CLARKE

The carnage in the London Underground follows an even more horrendous attack on Madrid commuters 16 months ago. When President Bush sought recently to reassure Americans about his Iraq policy, he emphasized that we are fighting terrorists in Iraq so that we do not have to fight them here at home. Unfortunately for Britain and Spain, fighting terrorists in Iraq did not immunize them from attacks at home.

Earlier this year the administration revealed that Osama bin Laden had communicated with Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the head of ''Al Qaeda in Mesopotamia,'' urging him to send some of his many fighters to the homelands of the United States and its coalition allies. Zarqawi's network has apparently been quite successful in recruiting new terrorists in Arab nations and in Islamic communities in Europe. Before the London attacks, the police arrested Zarqawi recruiters in Britain, Germany, Spain and elsewhere. (Among those arrested in Spain was a terrorist thought to be connected to the Madrid attacks.) Iraq acts both as a motivator for the new jihadis and as a training ground. It has replaced Afghanistan, Chechnya and Bosnia. Now, Muslim radical youth go to Iraq to prove themselves and learn the trade of terror.

A recent C.I.A. analysis reportedly concluded that those being recruited by Zarqawi are receiving better training and preparation by fighting in Iraq than previous terrorists received from bin Laden in Afghanistan. The report went on to say that these new terrorists will probably leave Iraq and practice their skills elsewhere. A Canadian Intelligence Security Service analysis reportedly says that terrorists trained in Iraq are likely to be involved in attacks in other countries. Commenting on the report, a former Canadian security officer said that terrorists are ''still planning very imaginative actions like we saw on 9/11.''

Although the United States made legal entry into the country more difficult after 9/11, it is still possible for potential terrorists to come here. Many of the new jihadis are citizens of European nations to which we grant visa-free entry. A jihadi might also come illegally, as millions of people do each year. Thus many security experts believe that it is only a matter of time until another attack occurs in the United States.

Members of the 9/11 Commission recently warned that the absence of an attack here in the last four years has created an atmosphere of complacency in which needed security improvements are given inadequate attention. Their warning should be heeded. The London Underground bombings highlighted, for example, one of the many areas where we remain vulnerable. Although the federal government has spent approximately $18 billion since 9/11 upgrading airline security, it has spent only $250 million on passenger-rail security. Any regular traveler can see the results. While I have been unable to carry a small scissors onto an aircraft, I have successfully carried a gun onto a passenger train.

In the hours after the London attacks, police officers flooded subway systems in the United States to beef up security. The fact that they had to do so is further evidence that these systems lack adequate protection. Increased use of closed-circuit cameras, uniformed guards and undercover officers in stations and on trains would reduce the likelihood of a successful attack on commuter rail lines.

The best way, however, to stop such attacks is through intelligence penetrations of terrorist circles. Only last month, almost four years after 9/11, did the administration agree to create a National Security Service within the F.B.I. to enhance our ability to perform such penetrations. It will be more years before this service is fully operational.

Why do we still find ourselves with so many domestic vulnerabilities? One major reason is that we have not spent what is necessary. When the Department of Homeland Security was created, the White House said it should be ''revenue neutral,'' i.e., no new money. Since then, homeland security spending has grown very slowly. The amount budgeted has not been based on needs assessment but on arbitrary decisions in an overall fiscal environment made difficult by skyrocketing spending in Iraq. Unfortunately, spending in Iraq will not immunize America from terrorist attacks at home any more than it did Spain or Britain.

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Heat Wave

2005-07-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

Saturday will be the 5th (Sunday will be the 6th) straight day with a high of at least 110. Back in July, 1961 we had 10 consecutive 110 degree days... and that's the record. The slight bump in humidity Friday will dry out over the weekend. Here are the numbers (I hope you're still sitting down): 114 Saturday, with some neighborhoods near 120. 113 Sunday and some neighborhoods will be near 118. Lows in the upper 80's. But have a good weekend anyway,

2005-07-15T16:59:00.000-07:00

July 10, 2005
Will Any Organ Do?
By GRETCHEN REYNOLDS

Last summer at one hospital in Dallas, four people died from rabies, an unheard-of level of incidence of this rare disease. As it turned out, each patient was infected by an organ or tissue -- a kidney, a liver, an artery -- that he or she received in a transplant several weeks earlier. Their shared donor, William Beed Jr., a young brain-dead man, had rabies, caught apparently through a bite from a rabid bat, something the surgeons never suspected. They all thought he had suffered a fatal crack-cocaine overdose, which can produce symptoms similar to those of rabies. ''We had an explanation for his condition,'' says Dr. Goran Klintmalm, a surgeon who oversees transplantation at Baylor University Medical Center, where the transplants occurred. ''He'd recently smoked crack cocaine. He'd hemorrhaged around the brain. He'd died. That was all we needed to know.''

Since the rabies deaths, recriminations have flown, procedural reviews have begun and sorrow and regret have dogged the families of the organ recipients. But the outbreak also exposed a controversy that until then was roiling only the rarefied world of transplant specialists. The issue, although freighted with monetary and bio-ethical complexities, can be boiled down to one deceptively simple question. Should transplant surgeons be using organs from nearly anyone?

Organ transplanting has become, in fundamental ways, a victim of its own success. Not long ago, transplant surgery was a dodgy, last-ditch response to end-stage kidney failure. But with the advent of better antirejection drugs and surgical techniques, transplantation has become the treatment of choice for a growing range of conditions, including chronic kidney failure, end-stage lung or liver disease and some congestive heart failure. Kidneys are implanted routinely, as are increasing numbers of livers, hearts and pancreases.

Fifteen years ago, about 20,000 people in the United States were on waiting lists for organs. Today, about 88,000 are. The number of donors has not come close to keeping pace. There were about 15,000 transplants completed with organs from cadavers in 1993 and about 20,000 last year. Patients used to wait weeks for an organ. Now they wait years. On average, 18 people on organ waiting lists die every day.

Doctors, patients and politicians concerned about transplantation have responded with proposals for increasing donations. In 2002, the American Medical Association voted to endorse pilot projects to give families financial incentives, like cash payments to help cover the costs of funerals, for donating their deceased loved ones' organs. The next year, Congress held hearings on the topic. Representative James Greenwood, Republican of Pennsylvania, introduced a bill that would have authorized demonstration projects to determine whether offering financial incentives to families of brain-dead patients would increase donation rates. There was a public outcry against ''buying'' organs and the bill died. (A few states offer tax incentives to families who donate relatives' organs.)

Increasingly desperate people in need of transplants have turned to highway billboards and Internet sites to solicit donors. Donations from living people have helped. Today the number of living kidney donors is greater than the number of dead donors. But living donations of other organs are rare because they can be dangerous or are impossible.

All of which has led transplant specialists to quietly begin to relax the standards of who can donate. As a result, according to surgeons I spoke with and reports in medical journals, the transplanting of what doctors refer to as ''marginal'' or ''extended criteria'' organs, organs that once would have been considered unusable, has increased considerably in the last several years. The definition of a marginal organ differs from transplant center to transplant center and also from one type of organ to another. This makes it difficult to quantify the increase in the use of these organs. But the expansion is undeniable and has become a much-discussed issue in the field, a topic of ethics papers, surgical conferences and soul-searching on the part of many of the surgeons involved.

Fifteen years ago, William Beed Jr. would not have qualified as an organ donor. When he died in May 2004, he was 20, unemployed and had been living with his mother and sister in a bat-infested apartment building in Texarkana, Ark. Throughout his life, Beed had been in and out of trouble, his mother acknowledged when I spoke to her recently. Marijuana and cocaine were found in his urine at the time of his death, according to a report in The New England Journal of Medicine.

Beed's drug use alone would have disqualified him as a donor. (It still would keep him from giving blood.) ''What people have to understand is that donors now, except for the 75-year-olds who die of intracranial bleeds, are not part of the church choir,'' Klintmalm told me when I met with him in Dallas earlier this year. ''The ones who die are the ones you don't want your daughter or your son to socialize with. They drink. They drive too fast. They use crack cocaine. They get caught up in drive-bys.''

The donor pool was different in the early days of transplantation. Beginning in the 60's and through the 80's, a majority of donors were head-trauma victims, people who had been involved in car accidents, botched suicides or tumbles off horses or ladders. These donors were almost all young, between 15 and 45. (In the 80's, few transplant surgeons would take a 50-year-old organ.) They were of average weight, with no history of diabetes, cancer, infectious disease, imprisonment, high blood pressure, cigarette-smoking habits, tattoos (which have been associated with blood-borne illnesses) or unsafe sexual behaviors. The chosen organs, said Klintmalm, who has been in practice for about 25 years, ''were pristine.''

It was easy to adhere to those standards at first. ''We didn't perceive any shortage of organs back in the day,'' says Dr. Nicholas Tilney, the Francis D. Moore professor of surgery at Harvard Medical School and one of the nation's premier kidney-transplant surgeons. ''If a patient had to wait a few weeks for a kidney, that seemed long. We never foresaw the kind of situation we have today.''

Conditions began to change in the 90's. Seat-belt use was more common by then, and fewer Americans were dying of head injuries, depriving transplantation of its most reliable sources of pristine organs. At the same time, the demand for transplants was growing. Surgeons had little choice but to start looking to alternative sources for organs.

On April 28, 2004, William Beed Jr. complained to his mother that he was feeling sick. ''He couldn't swallow,'' his mother, Judy, a practical nurse, recalled when I spoke with her earlier this year. They decided he should go to an emergency room, she said, and the doctors there examined him and sent him home with medication, saying he was dehydrated. By that evening, he was drooling, throwing up, shaking and still having difficulty swallowing. His fever was rising. He started vomiting blood. His father drove him to another E.R.

Diagnosis is often a matter of context. Because of doctor-patient confidentiality rules, doctors involved with this case would not talk about it on the record, but a few did say that had Beed not had cocaine in his blood, the E.R. doctors might have investigated his symptoms more aggressively instead of assuming he had overdosed. (Because no autopsy was done, doctors have not been able to establish whether the rabies or the drugs actually killed him.)

Soon after, Beed fell into a coma and was put on a ventilator. After a few days, his mother said, the doctors told her and her family that their son was brain-dead. Transplant surgeons use organs from brain-dead patients because they still have a heartbeat, and if the patients are placed on a ventilator, their organs continue to get oxygen. Without oxygen, the organs degrade within minutes.

According to Judy Beed, a transplant coordinator approached her and asked whether she would be willing to donate her son's organs. She agreed, and in the middle of the night on May 4, the parents of Joshua Hightower received a phone call offering them William Beed's kidney.

Joshua Hightower, who lived in Gilmer, Tex., had had kidney problems since he was 2. They had grown progressively worse over the years. ''When he was 16, things got really bad,'' said his mother, Jennifer Hightower, a special education assistant in the public schools, when I met with her in February. ''He was pale and droopy. He weighed 112 pounds. He was sleeping all the time.'' His teachers at Gilmer High School walked him up and down the halls between classes to help him stay awake. A doctor urged his parents to get him on the waiting list for a kidney. In the meantime, Joshua began daily dialysis at home. The process, which purified his blood of toxins, required that he be home every evening by 10. Once there, he was tethered to the dialysis machine for between 9 and 16 hours. When the Hightowers received the call from the hospital, they jumped at the opportunity.

It is impossible to know now when the first less-than-pristine organ was retrieved and transplanted. But over the course of the 90's, according to surgeons I spoke with, many barriers fell. Age was almost certainly the first to go. Instead of accepting donors 45 and younger, some transplant centers began, gradually, to take those who were 48, 49, 50 and then up from there. ''I wrote a paper for The Journal of the American Medical Association back in 1989,'' Dr. Lewis Teperman, director of transplantation at New York University Medical Center, told me when I talked to him earlier in the spring. ''It was looking at the outcomes of using older donors. By older donors, we meant someone over 60. That was considered really, really old.'' Recently, N.Y.U. transplanted a liver from a deceased 80-year-old. A couple of years ago, a Canadian hospital used a 93-year-old liver from a deceased donor.

Almost imperceptibly, most of the other traditional prohibitions evaporated. Surgeons started accepting lungs from people who had smoked, sometimes for decades. They accepted hearts and kidneys from those who had had high blood pressure or had been obese. They took organs from alcoholics and drug users. (Because cocaine is flushed from the body relatively quickly, it is considered one of the least problematic drugs in donors.) Infectious disease was no longer an automatic disqualifier, either. Most surgeons would have once discarded organs from someone with hepatitis C, for instance, since it destroys the liver. But the virus, often spread by injected drug use, is now so common in urban areas that few transplant surgeons will immediately turn down an organ infected with it. Ideally the surgeons implant these infected organs into patients who already harbor hepatitis C. But lately there have been cases in which doctors, as a last resort, have transplanted infected livers into patients who don't have hepatitis C. There is little published data yet about the long-term outcomes for these patients.

The expansion into ''marginal'' or ''extended criteria'' organs has not been systematic. One transplant surgeon will use a marginal organ from, say, a morbidly obese donor or a drug user. His patient survives. Then he will repeat it again and again. At the next big transplant conference, he will talk to his colleagues about his success, and they will go back to their own transplant centers and accept, for the first time, an obese donor or a crack-cocaine user. ''You sometimes have to experiment,'' Klintmalm says.

Klintmalm and other surgeons I spoke with who work in urban areas say that marginal organs are well on their way to being the majority of organs they transplant. Klintmalm, though, takes issue with the very definition of marginal. ''Older organs should not be called 'marginal,''' Klintmalm maintains, referring to donors over age 55. ''They're standard for us.'' But two years ago, when the United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS), the private organization that oversees organ transplantation in the United States, published its first definition of extended-criteria organs, age was prominent. The UNOS classification, which applies only to kidneys, defines a marginal kidney as one that comes from a deceased person over 60 or one over 50 with two of three characteristics: stroke, hypertension or abnormal kidney function. The definition does not mention smoking, diabetes, hepatitis, alcoholism, obesity or drug use.

No government agency sets standards for what makes an organ acceptable. The Department of Health and Human Services contracts with UNOS to handle the day-to-day logistics of the transplant system (getting organs to the next person on the list and so on). But the government's main concerns in policing transplants are that donors and recipients be matched for blood type and that organs be distributed primarily based on medical need, not the wealth, race or celebrity of the recipients. So decisions about whether organs are usable are made on the spot by individual surgeons.

To date, not many peer-reviewed studies have been published that examine the long-term outcomes of using marginal organs. The research that has been done mostly looks at kidneys.

Recent studies of older kidneys (usually defined as over 50), for instance, have shown that they can function almost as well as younger ones. They don't work for as long, however. In a report presented by UNOS, which adjusted for the health of the recipient, among other things, about a third of extended-criteria kidneys failed within three years. (About 20 percent of non-extended-criteria organs also failed within three years.) Transplantation, even under the best of circumstances, still involves risk. In assessing marginal organs, it is difficult to know whether a bad outcome -- the recipient's death or the organ's failure -- was caused by the organ, the surgery or the fragile health of the recipient.

Except for age-related research, few large-scale studies have yet investigated the effects of other extended-criteria kidneys. Do kidneys from diabetics, the obese, alcoholics, smokers or drug users generally work over the long term? Surgeons and scientists can't say for sure.

There is even less information about imperfect livers, hearts or lungs. Surgeons do know that livers, for some reason, don't age at the same rate as their original owners. Sixty- or 70-year-old livers can be in fine shape. Hearts and lungs aren't as durable and are more likely to fail as they get older. But surgeons are using them. A 2003 report by the UNOS-administered Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network stated: ''The need to more agressively utilize available organs for the candidate population as a whole competes with the expectation of each individual.''

And this is, ultimately, the crux of the matter. The marginality of any given organ is relative. It depends on how sick the waiting recipient is. There is a kind of mad, desperate arithmetic that goes into calculating whether to use a marginal organ and when. ''We're all trying to quantify the risks,'' Lewis Teperman, the N.Y.U. transplant director, says. ''If we know that there's a 0.7 increase in relative risk of an extended-criteria organ failing, which is about what we've seen in kidneys so far, you take that number, look at your patient's chances for survival, which might be 90 percent with a perfect organ and 80 percent with an extended-criteria one and. . . . '' He trails off. ''It sounds very clinical when I put it like that, which isn't what I want.'' He starts again. ''It's easy enough to come up with these kinds of calculations. But it's difficult for any of us to apply them in practice, when we're dealing with very sick people's lives.''

Dr. Marlon Levy, a liver-transplant surgeon in Fort Worth and the medical director for the Southwest Transplant Alliance, the group that unwittingly collected and distributed the rabid organs last year, told me: ''You have this immensely complex weighing of benefits and risks in each of these cases. Is the recipient sick enough to justify using any organ, even a really marginal one, to try and save his life and give him a few more years? Or say you have a slightly healthier patient, and you think he's doing well enough to pass on a marginal organ and wait for a better one. Then, suddenly, he develops complications and dies before another organ becomes available. Were these decisions wrong?''

It is extremely difficult to predict outcomes. ''The best thought-out decision doesn't work out all the time,'' Teperman says. ''I have put in extended-criteria organs that worked perfectly, and the person walked out the door a week later. Other times, a patient has gotten an extended-criteria organ and remained hospitalized for months. I've also waited, thinking a better organ would come along, and the patient has died in the meantime.''

To some extent, surgeons' hands are tied. In general, the current system requires that the most desperately ill patient must get the next organ that comes in, whether it is the best organ for that patient or not. ''Things would work best if we could put the most extended-criteria organs into the less critically ill patients and the healthiest organs into the sickest patients,'' Teperman says.

The calculus may be even more complex from the patient's perspective. Dr. Grant Campbell, an epidemiologist with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, had a liver transplant in 1990. At that time, he was chronically ill and knowingly accepted an organ infected with cytomegalovirus, a common and usually mild disease but one that can be serious in immunosuppressed transplant patients. Fortunately, he didn't become sick.

Even the most rational attempts to weigh the risks and benefits of marginal organs tend to fall apart in the face of truly boundless human despair. ''We would have taken any lungs,'' said Harry Littlejohn, 59, of Lewisville, Tex., whose 28-year-old daughter, Carmen, died in 2001 of cystic fibrosis. She had been No. 1 on the state waiting list for new lungs for eight weeks by then. None became available. ''We would have done anything to save her,'' he said, ''anything. But there was nothing we could do.''

Joshua Hightower turned 18 on May 10, 2004, in the transplant recovery ward at Baylor University Medical Center. Photos from around that time show him propped up in bed, looking wan, but smiling.

Joshua had been added to the lengthy transplant waiting list the year before. The doctors said they could not estimate how long the wait would be, Jennifer Hightower, his mother, told me.

After the Hightowers received the call from the hospital, his mother recalled, she had wondered about the donor. Anonymity has been crucial to the workings of the organ-transplant system. Donation is supposed to be a blind act of altruism. Donor families aren't told at the time who will receive the organs, and recipients generally are told only the age and sex of the donor.

''You don't want people coming in and saying, 'I'll only donate to Italians.' Or 'I only want them to go to someone in the Ku Klux Klan,''' says Sheldon Zink, director of the program for transplant policy and ethics at the University of Pennsylvania. You also don't want recipients turning down organs because of their own biases.

But how much should a surgeon tell a patient who is about to receive a compromised organ? Should he explain that the new kidney comes from a retiree, a drug user or an alcoholic, a chain smoker or a member of a motorcycle gang? Does he have to tell a patient that the organ he is about to receive is considered marginal?

"I wish we had been told more,'' Jennifer Hightower says. Her son, she went on to say, would have declined the kidney had they known more about Beed's background and his death. Joshua, she says, was not so sick that he couldn't wait. ''I would have made him pass on it.''

Her attitude worries Zink, the ethicist. ''I would question anyone's motivation in refusing an organ from a drug user,'' she told me. ''They aren't responding to clinical information, because the available clinical data'' -- the anecdotal reports from doctors -- ''indicates that organs from crack-cocaine users are fine, in general. So they must be responding to preconceptions about that person's lifestyle. That's only one small step from declining an organ because the donor is black or Hispanic.''

At the moment, no formal national medical standards dictate what transplant surgeons should tell their patients about organs other than kidneys or what they can withhold. Each doctor makes that decision based on how he feels about the ethics of the situation.

''I believe in erring on the side of telling the patient as much as possible,'' Teperman says. ''We have a lengthy consent form here at N.Y.U., and it goes into the use of marginal organs. We ask patients if they will accept one. You don't want to be calling someone at 2 a.m. and saying: 'You can take this organ we just got in that may not be very good or you can wait and maybe die. What do you want to do?' That's an unrealistic burden to put on a patient. We try to have the conversation early on, when patients are a little more clearheaded. That's not always an easy conversation to have. Some patients would rather not think about it. They'd rather the doctor just make the decision for them.''

Some surgeons insist on making decisions about marginal organs unilaterally. ''There are transplant surgeons who think they absolutely know best,'' Zink says. ''They don't bother asking the patient if he wants a marginal organ because they don't want the patient having a choice. They make it for him.''

When Zink recently asked surgeons at a major transplant conference how many of them always tell their patients if they are about to implant a marginal organ, ''about half said they tell the patient,'' Zink told me. ''Half said they don't.''

Some surgeons withhold information because they are concerned about litigation (better to say nothing than to say that an organ might be compromised, have your judgment proved right and be sued for it). Others are prodded by compassion. ''There are doctors out there who think that a patient will recover better if he isn't worrying about the quality of the organ inside of him,'' Zink says.

Wry pragmatism also plays a role. ''At some large urban transplant centers, virtually all organs nowadays are extended-criteria organs,'' Zink points out. Why discuss the option of accepting or declining an imperfect organ? If a patient says he doesn't want one, he'll most likely never get an organ at all. ''I've had doctors tell me they don't even tell their patients that they're about to get an organ that might be infected with hepatitis C because so many of the donated organs may have it,'' Zink says.

On Friday, May 28, 24 days after his transplant, Joshua Hightower, who had been released from the hospital, graduated from high school. He clutched his diploma, climbed up into the stands and threw up, Jennifer Hightower said. He didn't stop vomiting all through the celebrations that followed. The next day, he was stumbling, and by the evening, he was having convulsions. Spit dribbled down his face. Doctors at the nearest emergency room hurriedly transferred him to the E.R. at Baylor.

Upstairs in the transplant wing, around the same time, three other patients who had received donations from William Beed Jr. lay dying, each with convulsions, delirium or pain. Within two weeks, all but Joshua were dead. Rabies was confirmed as the cause of death a few weeks later.

There is no formal system that tracks the short-term fate of individual organs from a particular donor. Surgeons report raw data about deaths and severe surgical complications to UNOS. Had all of the people who received an organ from William Beed Jr. not come back to the same hospital and died, one after another, their rabies may not have come to light.

In May, three people died who had received organs from the same donor in New England. As it turned out, the donor had passed along lymphocytic choriomeningitis virus, a rare illness transmitted to humans from rodents like hamsters. Two of the recipients, after getting ill, went to the same hospital, which helped doctors there determine that the transplant was the cause.

''I doubt very much that this is the only time'' that rabies has killed transplant patients, says Charles Rupprecht, the C.D.C.'s rabies expert about the Beed case. ''And I doubt that it will be the last.'' In February, doctors in Germany announced that four patients there had been infected with rabies after receiving organs from a rabid young woman who had died, they had thought, of a heart attack associated with an overdose of cocaine and Ecstasy.

''Rabies is a sentinel disease,'' argues Dr. Matthew Kuehnert, the assistant director for blood safety at the C.D.C., who has studied outbreaks of disease in transplant recipients. ''It tells us we should be paying attention, that something needs to change.''

What, though? ''We cannot start testing every donor for rabies or any of the other once-in-a-lifetime diseases that might crop up,'' Klintmalm says. ''We don't have time. It would cost too much. You might as well shut down every transplant center. If another case came in today exactly like that one, a young man who used crack cocaine and died, I would not demand more explanation. Why? We'll never get the risk of transplants down to zero. It's stupid to pretend we can. That young man appeared to be a perfect donor. I wish we had more like him.''

The broader question is what, if anything, should change in transplantation as marginal organs become everyday organs? ''We at the C.D.C. wish that there were more formal disease surveillance and follow-up of transplant patients,'' Kuehnert said. ''We simply don't know the risks of using certain types of donors at this point.'' The C.D.C. has no authority to require such follow-up and study, though. Only other regulatory agencies within the Department of Health and Human Services or state agencies can set such mandates.

In June 2004, the New York State Department of Health became the first regulatory agency in the country to start formally looking into the growing use of marginal organs and to formulate recommendations about what patients should be told and what kinds of organs should be allowed. Its report is due soon.

In the meantime, the United Network for Organ Sharing has created a designation for patients who say they will accept a marginal kidney. At the end of February, 42 percent of the adults waiting for a kidney in the United States said they would take a marginal organ.

A year ago, while Joshua Hightower lay unconscious but alive, the doctors decided to surgically remove his transplanted kidney. But by then, rabies (not yet identified as the culprit) was everywhere in him. His condition worsened. On June 18, a Friday, doctors tested for brain activity. They found none and declared him brain dead. Stung with grief, Jennifer Hightower and the rest of her family sat with the boy through a wrenching weekend while he remained on a ventilator. On that Monday, his parents agreed to end life support. That afternoon, with his family watching, doctors turned off the ventilator. His mother held him as his heart stopped.

It will not be a simple matter in the years ahead to decide how best to save lives with transplants. At some point this year, the number of people on transplant waiting lists in the United States will very likely top 100,000. Unless there is an enormous effort, probably from the federal government, to increase organ donation, the shortage will only grow. ''All these kids we see with diabetes,'' Nicholas Tilney says, ''so many of them will need a new kidney in a few years. Where are those organs going to come from?''

Gretchen Reynolds frequently writes about medical topics. Her last article for the magazine was about epidemiologists tracking the avian flu.

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2005-07-15T13:51:00.000-07:00

Mr. Berinie Ecclestone. British Grand Prix, 2005.
All in all, this season has been gratifying since Fernando Alonso has been so incredibly quick and consistent. For his youth, he seems a very mature driver, and he appears to have the balance of his emotions and ego placed in proper perspective. In short, the guy is super talented and very cool. This is the best thing that could happen to Formula 1.

As far as Indianapolis is concerned, I believe there were unseen forces that may be quite pleased to see Formula 1 fall flat on its face here in America. Of course, when viewed from a strictly fan perspective, the entire episode was one giant farcical disappointment.

Several matters come to mind. Michelin, the internationally known and recognized tire company somehow did not do the necessary research and showed up in America without a tire that was capable of performing on the Indy track surface. Granted, Bridgestone had been at the 500, so they naturally would have had more data on the track surface and so were well advised in what compounds they had chosen prior to arriving at the Brickyard. It is astounding however, when you analyze the sequence of events. That first and foremost, a tire company participating in Motor racing at the highest level of international competition with billions of dollars involved throughout the entire enterprise, would be capable of going in blindly without having at least examined what options they might need to have or what kind of obstacles they might be expected to incur. It was not a secret that the race track had been resurfaced in some way or another which resulted in a grittier more abrasive characteristic.

Michelin shows up and discovers that the tires they have are relatively useless and worse yet they are dangerous. Ralf Schumacher goes off in a high speed shunt, and one other driver whose name escapes me now, goes out as well, and all the while Michel in have no clue. Except they do realize and admit that the safety of the drivers precludes them from simply pressing forward and acting as if everything would be alright. For this I give them a certain degree of respect.

So when the windup ensues you have the race itself, and all that it represents in terms of the perennial desire for Formula 1 to someday, somehow establish itself firmly and loyally in the minds and hearts of American racing fans.

And then you have the internecine intrigue between the intricately drawn factions of the International Grand Prix circus. Here we enter into cultural, financial, philosophical, and not the least, personal conflicts and long standing animosities.

From the Bridgestone perspective, why would they have wished to smooth over a gaffe that exposed their world's greatest rival as something of a complete incompetent?

From the FISA point of view, I suppose they felt they would open a Pandora's box of possibilities wherein which rules that are so incredibly complex, must be continuously revised and reformatted to account for so many variables within the sport and the technology that it draws from in large measure. These rules would perhaps then be the constant point of negotiation as other points of departure would come into question.

Finally, Scuderia Ferrari was showing as much compassion as the Italian Expeditionary Tank forces extended to Hailee Sallase and his vastly out numbered, camel bourne , sling shot bearing defense force in Ethiopia. Another less than memorable episode in 20th century Italian history.

FISA was in no way potent enough by way of silent persuasion to effectuate an ultimate compromise. Max Mosley would have been wise, in my opinion, to have made his way to the paddock and the negotiating table, because the entire BRAND of Formula 1 was suffer ring a devastating blow to its credibility, marketability, and general point of popular acceptance.

As it turns out, he remained somewhere in Europe, Paris I suppose, and from that distance felt safe enough while allowing Ecclestone to bear all of the justifiable ire and resentment from those fans who made their weekend around seeing a genuinely competitive International Grand Prix. They deserve, and I believe they eventually will receive, their money for admission refunded.

Furthermore, Mr. Ecclestone is one person who would have, if he were able, in and of his own will, put together a compromise solution so as to have the racing fans enjoy what they had come to see. There is no one that I know, in or out of Formula 1 who is more desirous of establishing a permanent presence and appreciation for Grand Prix racing in the U.S. than Bernie Ecclestone. He has made repeated attempts to educate, if you will, the civic leaders here in Las Vegas about the kind of product that Formula 1 confirms as unique and attended by a very high end marketing segment with disposable income far greater than what is demographically described by the NASCAR and other forms of all American motor racing.

The unfairness in regards to Ecclestone and the vents at the recent American Grand Prix, is that there are limits to what he personally can do without risking the opposite side of the critics corner wherein which he is accused of wielding totalitarian and dictatorial control over every aspect of the entire enterprise.

To my way of thinking, to the extent that in every instance where to a greater or lesser degree, "The Ecclestone as Czar model" is accurate, then the entire Formula 1 world and everyone involved in this endeavor in any way large or small, should be thankful for all of the years of incessant determination and unrelenting focus and vision with which Bernie Ecclestone has dedicated himself towards bringing together the very essence of what is accepted as the world?s premier Motor Racing series.

Most knowledgeable people with even the slightest awareness of Motor racing in general, will acknowledge that Grand Prix Formula 1 exists on a level of technical and physical challenge unlike any other form of entertainment in the world today. The very fact that Ecclestone has traveled from year to year from race to race, from airport to hotel to airplane to helicopter to jet to hotel and back around again is testimony to the superior discipline, motivation, intellect and abounding business genius that mark the achievements of this leader of the world of Grand Prix Motor Sport.

His comment about the women being advised to wear dresses the color of kitchen appliances was simply his "East End" London sense of humor flexing itself as a leit motif to a very stressful situation.

I know from first hand, personal experience that Bernie Ecclestone is a genuine humanitarian and extraordinarily generous to those he loves and cares about. He is unsparingly loyal to those loyal to him, and he is a person who has done innumerable acts of great kindness to help those less fortunate through times of overwhelming adversity.

His financial success should not be held against him, because every pound note Bernie may hold he well deserves because he has worked his butt off and taken many risks, suffered many personal setbacks and disappointments integral to the dangers of Formula 1 and survived it all to stand as the single most influential leader in the world of Motor Sport since the beginning of organized and sanctioned competition.

No one that I can identify comes even close to having been able to accomplish so much from every angle to see that so many people realized so much more as drivers, team owners, promoters, journalists, photographers, and accessory entrepreneurs of every ancillary stripe.

All persons related to this unique form of incredible excitement and test of competitive skill and technical expertise owe an eternal debt of gratitude to Mr. Ecclestone, and those persons who have character and real integrity within the sport itself realize this only too well.

Without him, Grand Prix Motor Racing as we know it today, would not exist. Case Closed
Michael P. Whelan Las Vegas, July 12, 2005.

2005-07-08T18:12:00.000-07:00

Write Line
FIA and Michelin Teams: A Letter of Concern
2005-06-24
Kaylie Broughton
The FIA have recently published their views on the USA Grand Prix and in general showed that they care little for their fans and that it is not important to please them, but let me take this opportunity to remind everyone of something. Without us, there are no viewing figures and money spent on race weekends, without that there are no sponsors willing to come into F1, with no sponsors there are no F1 teams, with no teams there is no F1. Perhaps you should sit down for awhile and look at it from someone else's perspective instead of just trying to cover your own portion of blame in the matter. Maybe you should try running a series without fans, go to races with no one watching in the stands or on the tv and see how far you get before you fail.
The events which I witnessed unfolding in the USA Grand Prix were totally disgusting for a global sport such as F1, but post race dealings have gone from disgusting to unacceptable and this is why you find me writing this letter.
I am in complete support of the Michelin teams who withdrew from the USA Grand Prix on the formation lap (note that they did start the race) and find it shocking that you blame the matter totally on these teams and come up with reasons which contradict your own rules. I am right in believing there is a rule which states at least 12 drivers should take part in a race otherwise it can be cancelled, so if you deem that the Michelin teams did not start then you should have also stuck to this rule.
I believe that Michelin are to fault for providing tyres that were unsafe for the grand prix in which they should have been used for, but instead of dragging the sport further through the mud perhaps you should be concentrating on how to ensure or decrease the chance of this happening again.
Michelin teams pulled out on grounds of safety and there are several team bosses out there that know all to well about fatalities and injuries that are possible in F1. Even the solutions that were offered did not guarantee anymore safety than just racing at full speeds, as the root cause of these problems had not been identified.
As one of the younger fans of the sport I know how unpopular the sport has become in recent years, but I have stuck through the less interesting seasons and intend to celebrate my 10th year of watching the sport by attending the Silverstone grand prix, however the last week has made me question the sport and indeed my support for it and if the teams are punished for their correct actions last weekend then come race weekends you can forget any viewing figures come from me.
I hope the hearing on the 29th June clears the Michelin teams of any part of bringing the sport into disrepute and I would like to emphasise that they have my full support on this matter.
Regards,
Kaylie Broughton

2005-07-08T16:17:00.000-07:00

Paul Stoddart battles to get his cars in qualifying
F1 > Australian GP, 2005-03-04 (Albert Park Circuit): Friday practice 2

F1's voice of reason
2005-07-06
Anne Proffit

In a pack of incessantly howling wolves, Australian Paul Stoddart has become the voice of Formula One reason. The owner of an F1 team resigned to the rear of each F1 grid, Stoddart knows how to do more with less than any other team owner.

Each Sunday on a Grand Prix weekend Stoddart produces "Stoddy's Sunday Sermon," during which he pontificates on any number of interesting subjects having to do with the meeting's activities or news within the world of F1 racing.

During the United States Grand Prix, Stoddart was inclined to talk about the rules proposal publicly released by the FIA and its president Max Mosley two days prior. Some points Stoddart agrees with in principle; others he has no time for. Stoddart believes that slowing the F1 cars dramatically by following the proposed rules to the letter would make them "15 seconds slower than the GP2 cars." That solution doesn't sit well with him.

The idea of slowing cars isn't always workable. The clever minds of F1 engineers normally return the projectiles to ever-quicker laps within a few months. And slowing cars isn't about to result in lower costs, according to the Minardi chief. "Any change in F1 has always cost money," Stoddard reminds everyone. "Max Mosley should ask the people who pay the bills (what to do) before making his assumptions."

The FIA's nine-page document of proposed changes for the 2008 F1 championship (and presumably beyond) looks at all facets of cars and competition. Primarily it addresses the need to cut costs but, according to Stoddart, tackles the dilemma in the least effective manner.

"This was not a necessarily well informed document," he chides. "The entrants with the best budget, the best technology, the best team and drivers will still win," as they have since the start of competition in the 19th century.

In an effort to reach out to the teams, the FIA is proposing changes that focus on "decreasing the rate of car performance relative to protection for the public and all participants", whatever that means; clear rules enforcement "with some degree of flexibility" (a cynic could have a field day with this one); cost containment designed to keep independent teams such as Minardi in the fold -- but how?; getting rid of expensive materials; eliminating driver aids; and limiting downforce.

Stoddard has his own opinions on where this proposal should go. As an avowed opponent to Mosley's continuing reign atop the FIA his comments tend to be vitriolic.

For instance, Stoddart has no support for a common ECU as suggested by the FIA. While a common electronic control unit might be able to police traction control (a "driver aid" the FIA wants to see banned) Stoddart does not believe such a component would lower costs or enhance competition in F1.

"We need to contain costs without destroying the sport," he insists. "Traction control needs to go but I don't think dumbing down technology is the way."

The FIA would like to see a designated supplier of gearboxes as well, but Stoddart doesn't suppose that will relegate added costs to the dustbin. "My gearbox is less than one percent of my annual cost and it need not be targeted," he fumes. Stoddart thinks placing limits on gear ratios would be an obvious opportunity for cost cutting. As for placing the onus for changing gears on a driver's left foot, "pedal operation goes back to the Dark Ages."

On the touchy topic of downforce, Stoddart ruminates that a 30 percent reduction from 2004 levels will work just fine and still keep competition humming. "That is a sensible solution," but one he's sure the FIA will not like.

Like F1 fans Stoddart wants to see close, non-manipulated competition -- and a complete loss of downforce via bodywork adjustments just isn't going to work. "I have little resistance to cleaning up barge boards" and other chassis extremities, he says.

The FIA would like to ban tire warmers, but Stoddart thinks that's not an issue for 2008. "If they want to ban them, that's okay, but they must allow tire and fuel changes during the races again." The differences between the proposal and the current tire rules, which ban slicks but have near-slick grooved tires, are so minimal as to be laughable.

But, yes, Stoddart agrees, let's have a single tire supplier. "That is absolutely essential for cost containment and the single best way to reduce costs," he declares. The ongoing tire war between Bridgestone and Michelin has resulted in added costs and chaos, as witnessed during the USGP less than two weeks ago. "With a single tire maker you can test the limits of the car and that's valid."

Mosley and his cohorts have asked that an FIA-designated supplier produce all brake discs, pads and calipers to an agreed specification beginning in 2008. Stoddart thinks that idea is rubbish: "Brake specification changes put enormous costs to the teams," he counters. The rules Mosley suggests would do nothing to reduce those costs.

Banning expensive materials meets with Stoddart's approval. What is needed, though, is "a list of approved, not banned materials," as the elimination of exotic items like titanium simply opens the door to new, even more bizarre options.

But banning spare cars is a poor idea, because an accident in practice or qualifying can eliminate a team from competition. "It's better to see 20 cars on Sunday afternoon than 16," Stoddart explains, "So we should not ban spare cars. After an accident what do you do?" He feels that F1 definitely needs spare cars to keep competition levels at the agreed-upon mark.

If testing days decrease for the calendar year as proposed, the measure must not only meet with everyone's approval in the paddock but should be balanced by added track time during race weekends, when a test comes to fruition. "I say limit testing and make it (a test session) open to the public so they can get some value from Formula One," Stoddart suggests.

For the most part the Minardi chief is looking to enhance competitiveness and cooperation within the sport, instead of the current level of combativeness. "We need equal rules enforcement; that is what the teams have been crying out for forever and we need rules for unforeseen situations" like the tire debacle at Indianapolis. "We need to contain costs without destroying this sport," Stoddart maintains.

"Formula one doesn't need more problems; it needs solutions. Sensible governance between now and 2008," Stoddart declares, "is the only way this sport can continue."

Before F1 can address rules packages for 2008 and beyond, however, it must first look to solutions to today's problems and the trial of the Michelin Seven. "Criticism is essential to a healthy F1," Paul Stoddart believes.

That is why he is continuing dialog with the Michelin teams -- despite riding on Bridgestone rubber -- and trying to find a way to gain harmony within today's Formula One paddock. Stoddart's intent is pure but he speaks out in F1's wilderness. Paul Stoddart is the voice of reason

2005-06-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

Christophe Vorlet
June 26, 2005
Maybe Saving Money Is Just for Chumps
By DANIEL AKST
ON a recent tour of Europe, Treasury Secretary John W. Snow talked about the need for Americans to save more. Alan Greenspan, the Federal Reserve chairman, recently told Congress that "our household saving rate remains negligible." From time to time, various economists, pundits and others in the financial peanut gallery chime in on this theme as well. If there's one thing Americans have to do more of, everyone seems to agree, it's save.

But why should we? What if there are good reasons for the seemingly low savings rate? If there really is such a thing as the wisdom of crowds, maybe it makes sense to consider whether most Americans know something that all the worrywarts don't.

I think they do. I think they've noticed that, given the way society is organized and the way the securities markets have been acting lately, saving doesn't make a lot of sense.

First, how can anybody take savings exhortations seriously from a government that seems to revel in fiscal profligacy? Secretary Snow is part of an administration whose policies have plunged the federal budget deep into the red with tax cuts, an expensive prescription plan for older Americans and a costly war in Iraq.

The government's shortfalls are seriously undermining national savings, and they strongly imply higher taxes down the road. Somebody will have to cover all those deficits, and a climbing ratio of retirees to workers will mean increased levies to pay for Social Security and health care for the elderly.

Higher taxes tomorrow make saving less appealing by reducing future after-tax investment returns. That is especially the case for tax-deferred retirement savings: why defer taxes if they're going only higher?

Retirement savers may also worry that when the great waves of baby-boomer retirees hit the Social Security system without adequate private savings, the prudent will be taxed even more to cover the costs of the imprudent. That's another reason not to save.

Maybe parents have noticed that the same reasoning can be applied to saving for college - a process that is unlikely to help get financial aid. Why show up on campus with your piggy bank full if the bursar is likely to expropriate the money?

Taxpayers have had decades to notice that the income tax system, which penalizes working and saving by taxing the earnings from each, is yet another good reason not to save.

In a rational world, we would have a progressive consumption tax that would penalize high levels of spending instead of earning and saving. As it stands now, the system encourages gigantic homes and commensurately large mortgages, because mortgage interest is tax deductible.

Potential savers have certainly noticed, too, that there is no good place to invest their money. Returns are dismal across the board. That makes saving less attractive - and requires extra risk to achieve any given level of reward.

There is also the problem of purchasing power. Signs that inflation may be reviving suggest that your money may be worth less later than it is now. And sooner or later, the dollar will fall against the yuan, making much of what we buy - from China, anyway - cost more.

Given all this, perhaps what we have here is not truly a failure to save. Perhaps it's something closer to rational profligacy.

Under the circumstances, is it any wonder that our main savings vehicle is our homes - or that home prices are soaring? In the long run, houses outperform inflation, provide tax-advantaged financing and capital gains, tend not to implode like Enron and, at the very least, provide a comfortable place to live.

The funny thing is that while society discourages saving, Americans probably save more than the numbers suggest. The government's system of measuring personal saving fails to capture changing asset values, mishandles pensions and has other shortcomings that cause it to understate actual savings, at least in the opinion of some economists.

EVERYONE needs a rainy-day fund, of course. But if we really want society to save more, we have to stop penalizing thrift, stop taxing earned income and stop the federal deficits.

Until that happens, consider the bright side. If Americans started saving seriously, they would have to cut back on consumer spending. That would kick the last prop out from under the global economy. Instead, we're gamely fighting world poverty, one purchase at a time.

Daniel Akst is a journalist and novelist who writes often about business. E-mail: culmoney@nytimes.com

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2005-06-27T15:36:00.000-07:00

TERRIFYING PREDATOR: A shark swims close to shore off Miramar Beach one day after a shark fatally attacked a girl. Officials doubled the number of life guards on patrol and sent a boat and chopper looking for sharks

SHARK ATTACK
Surfer had to fight off shark to rescue girl, punching the animal
A Florida surfer said he acted as ''bait'' to try to distract the shark while he wrestled the 14-year-old girl onto his surfboard: ''I've never been so scared in my life.'' The teen later died.
BY MONICA HATCHER
mhatcher@herald.com

Off Miramar Beach on the Gulf Coast of Florida's Panhandle, longtime surfer Tim Dicus has seen the dark, lithe shadows dart beneath the water -- the glistening gray fins split the waves.

He was once even bumped by a shark, he said. But Saturday was different. Dicus tussled in the water with what experts say was most likely an 8-foot-long hungry bull shark hellbent on snatching a dying 14-year-old girl from the surface.

''The shark kept coming back around,'' said Dicus, 54, who punched the shark on its snout as it circled the girl in bloody water.

A day after the horrific attack near Destin, a still-shaken Dicus said he had a sleepless night. ''I've never been so scared in my life,'' he said. ``It was like the movie Jaws, except I was in it.''

Jamie Marie Daigle, of Gonzales, La. did not survive the attack by the shark as she was boogie boarding with her best friend about 250 yards offshore.

It was around 11:15 a.m., the beach full of tourists and locals. Dicus was surfing. He said he suddenly heard screaming and saw a girl swimming frantically to the shore. When he reached Jaime, she was bobbing face down. One of her legs had been cleaved to the bone from knee to thigh, he said. He saw the pool of blood in the water.

The shark made another snap at her hand, but missed because Dicus pulled it out of reach.

He hoisted the unconscious girl onto his surfboard. All the while, the shark continued to try to get to her, Dicas said. He circled the surfboard. Dicas said he struck the shark hard with his fist once. It did little to discourage the animal.

Dicas finally towed her to a sandbar where two other men were ready with another board and a raft to paddle the girl back to shore.

Using himself as live bait, Dicus said, ``I swam away from them and started slapping the water and kicking to distract the shark.''

Once ashore, paramedics tried to revive the teen, but she had likely lost too much blood.

George Burgess, a researcher at the University of Florida, who investigates shark attacks worldwide, was at the scene and called the attack ''unusual'' for Florida water, mainly because of the shark's aggression.

''This was not a normal Florida attack,'' Burgess said. ''Usually a shark will make a mistake, thinking it's a fish,'' Burgess said. ``In this instance, the shark apparently very knowingly went after a large prey item and persistently tried to follow through on its normal feeding behavior, which would be to come back and attack again and again.''

It was the third unprovoked fatality this year, he said.

On Sunday, a bloody spot in the sand marked where paramedics worked on Jamie, who had come to the vacation spot with her best friends' parents.

Back in her hometown of Gonzales, a suburb of Baton Rouge, parishioners of St. Theresa of Avila Catholic Church mourned the teen's death, calling her ''very beautiful and popular.'' Pastor Gary Belsome, who is also a friend of the Daigle family, said they were dealing with the grief as best as they could.

''At all of the masses yesterday and today, we informed the community about the death and asked them for prayers,'' Belsome said.

Jaime, an accomplished student who was a day camp counselor at the church, was preparing to start high school in August at the prestigious St. Joseph's Academy, an all-girl Catholic school in Baton Rouge.

Last week, she finished a computer prep course with her best friend, who was also admitted to St. Joseph's in the fall.

Jaime had gone with her friend's family on an RV trip to Florida for the weekend. The girls had likely known each other since kindergarten, Belsome said.

Belsome, who spent time with the family Sunday, said that despite the tragedy, the family took solace in that she died while having fun with a good friend.

The Walton County coroner's office will conduct an autopsy today to officially determine the size and species of the shark involved Saturday, believed to be a bull shark.

On Sunday, the 20-mile stretch of beach that officials had closed after the attack had been opened.

''It was business as usual, or almost as usual,'' said Capt. Danny Glidewell, who said the incident was the first of its kind in Walton County.

He said there had been no sightings by midday Sunday. His department had doubled the number of life guards on patrol. A boat was out scanning the water for the predatory fish. Helicopters were also deployed to scour the waters for sharks. Dicus said he had gotten a phone call from Jamie's father thanking him for going out to get her.

``They said they wouldn't have been able to have a normal funeral, if I hadn't gone out there. The shark would have taken her under for good.''

? 2005 Herald.com and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.miami.com

2005-06-27T15:01:00.000-07:00

A view of a virtual game table on the PartyPoker.com Web site.

2005-06-27T14:59:00.000-07:00

June 26, 2005
At PartyGaming, Everything's Wild
By KURT EICHENWALD

AS a rule, companies don't often draw attention to business practices that could land their executives in jail. But for PartyGaming PLC, potential illegalities aren't just a secret hidden in its business plan - they are the centerpiece of its business plan.

A giant in the online gambling business, PartyGaming is an often-overlooked megasurvivor from the dot-com crash of the late 1990's. As hundreds of profitless commercial sites disappeared into the digital ether, PartyGaming's popular gambling sites - like PartyPoker.com - soared, with revenues and profits growing exponentially year after year.

This week, the company will go public in what is expected to be the largest offering in years on the London Stock Exchange, one that will make billionaires out of its ragtag assortment of founders and major stockholders - including a California lawyer who earned her first fortune in online pornography and phone-sex lines. All told, as much as $9 billion is expected to be raised, with all of the cash going to private shareholders selling portions of their stakes.

But there will be no Wall Street investment houses lapping up fees in the giant deal, no victory dances in the offices of American corporate lawyers. That is because PartyGaming, based in Gibraltar, has no assets in the United States, and its officers or directors could risk being served with a civil suit - or an arrest warrant - if they came to the United States on business.

The reason? The Justice Department and numerous state attorneys general maintain that providing the opportunity for online gambling is against the law in the United States - and PartyGaming does it anyway. Indeed, of its $600 million in revenue and $350 million in profit in 2004, almost 90 percent came from the wallets and bank accounts of American gamblers.

To justify this, PartyGaming walks a very thin line. Providing online gambling is not illegal per se in the United States, the company argues - federal prosecutors just say it is. The company has already received an e-mail message from the Louisiana attorney general demanding that it cease providing online gambling in that state; PartyGaming simply ignored the communication and waited for additional action that never came.

The company's prospectus - a British document that is not available in the United States - at times reads something like a legal brief, citing American case law to support the company's position that no prosecution would ever take place.

Still, in its offering documents, PartyGaming makes no secret of the fact that even if the company's view of the law proves wrong, it is banking on its executives' belief that there is little that law enforcement can do - or will do - to prosecute. "In many countries, including the United States, the group's activities are considered to be illegal by the relevant authorities," PartyGaming says in its offering document. "PartyGaming and its directors rely on the apparent unwillingness or inability of regulators generally to bring actions against businesses with no physical presence in the country concerned."

That type of unusual disclosure is typical of the entire PartyGaming story - a stranger-than-fiction tale laced with an unlikely combination of sex, money, technology and the kind of luck that is fitting only for a gambling company. And there are already signs that before the tale is done, it could well inflame trade disputes between the United States and Britain over America's arguably inconsistent behavior toward the gambling industry.

Fergus Wheeler, a spokesman for PartyGaming in London, said that the company and its executives could not comment, in part because no offering of shares was being made in the United States.

THE story begins, improbably enough, at a collection of lucrative massage parlors operated in San Francisco. Their owner, Richard Parasol, saw fabulous wealth from the businesses. State property and business records show that Mr. Parasol - at times in deals involving his Swedish wife, Gunna - moved his family into an upscale home in Marin County and bought an array of investment properties while putting money into a leather goods concern and other businesses.

By the early 1990's, Mr. Parasol had a new business partner in his ventures - one of his three daughters, Ruth, the woman who ultimately would prove to be a driving force behind PartyGaming. After spending years in private school, Ms. Parasol attended college at the University of San Francisco, state records show, before she moved on to Western State University in Fullerton, Calif., where she earned her law degree.

Ms. Parasol, now 38 and a resident of Gibraltar with her husband, J. Russell DeLeon, has universally declined to be interviewed and did not respond to an e-mail message.

But the lawyer's life of filing briefs and making court appearances was not to be for Ms. Parasol. Instead, her father brought her in as an adviser on a phone sex-chat business he had formed with Ian Eisenberg, a Seattle businessman whose father, Joel Eisenberg, was a pioneer of sex-oriented phone lines in the 1980's.

Quickly, Ms. Parasol emerged as one of the small clique of prominent executives in the growing world of interactive pornography. In 1994, she split off from her father's business, forming her own sex-chat phone business with Seth Warshavsky, another young Seattle businessman who had worked with Mr. Eisenberg.

But her business dealings with her father were not over. California state business records show that Ms. Parasol and her father established Starlink Communications, another phone-sex business. They also invested with Mr. Warshavsky's biggest venture ever, the Internet Entertainment Group.

Cash was coming in by the fistful for everyone. While online pet stores and cosmetics companies were struggling, Internet pornography was a gold mine. The phone lines almost printed money, and, through I.E.G., Mr. Warshavsky became the most prominent businessman in online pornography, with hundreds of thousands of paying members. Time magazine called him the Larry Flynt of the Internet.

But soon, everything began crashing down in a storm of unpaid debts and lawsuits. Mr. Warshavsky, for example, moved overseas, leaving behind a huge collection of unpaid bills. Mr. Eisenberg, meanwhile, had a falling out with Mr. Parasol and his daughter and the dispute ended up in court. Mr. Warshavsky and Ms. Parasol were co-defendants in lawsuits contending improper business practices. The Federal Trade Commission sued Mr. Eisenberg, accusing him of engaging in deceptive trade practices by tricking customers into authorizing billings to their telephone lines for Internet access.

The pornography business was beginning to look dicey. But Ruth Parasol had another idea.

While many of her former associates found themselves in legal trouble, she emerged relatively unscathed. According to people who have spoken with her, she and her father sold their interests in electronic pornography, just as the litigation was heating up.

Instead, Ms. Parasol pursued a new venture: online gambling. It was the new buzz of the Internet world, and Ms. Parasol decided to apply the knowledge she acquired from her pornography ventures into the more reputable gambling business.

Using her profits from the pornography business as seed capital, she and a handful of partners opened a Web site called Starluck Casino in 1997. According to company records, Starluck maintained all of its operations - including servers and offices - in the Caribbean, beyond the reach of American authorities. But the business was nothing special; the software that drove the site was simply licensed from a third party.

Then, the next year, Ms. Parasol struck up the relationship that would transform her company into the giant it is today. She spoke with Anurag Dikshit (pronounced DIX-sit), then a 25-year-old computer-engineering specialist who had recently graduated from the Indian Institute of Technology in New Delhi, asking him to write a proprietary program for casino games. Within a year, as Mr. Dikshit's skills were recognized as crucial to her company's future, he became an investor.

By 2000, the new team of executives began exploring the idea that would bring them billions: developing a platform to let gamblers from around the world play against one another online, either at individual virtual tables, or in larger tournaments. PartyGaming is then paid a commission, known as a rake, for its role in hosting the games.

The timing could not have been more fortuitous.

At that point, a poker craze was about to sweep across the United States, pushed by the advent of televised poker events like the World Poker Tour and the World Series of Poker. These programs helped to transform poker, once a penny-ante game played out on kitchen tables by neighbors and friends, into a glamorous event with celebrity matches and color commentators.

HELPING to push the growth was the use of cameras under tables during the competitions. That allowed viewers to see the players' cards and gain an insider's view of the unfolding game.

Once Mr. Dikshit's software was improved to allow for hosting as many as 70,000 players at once, Ms. Parasol's company further fueled the game's popularity. Now, players could join a game anytime, from anywhere, without having to wait for their buddies or to restock on beer and potato chips.

Players responded in droves, making poker by far the fastest-growing segment of the online gambling market. Total revenue for online poker among all companies was already a healthy $92 million in 2002, but it then exploded, surpassing $1 billion just two years later, according to Christiansen Capital Advisors L.L.C., a consulting firm in New Gloucester, Me., that specializes in advising gambling companies.

Ms. Parasol's company, by then known as PartyGaming, did its part to fuel the mania. To help introduce its poker Web site, it hired a well-known poker player named Mike Sexton as a marketing consultant, and with his help it developed the "PartyPoker.com Million" tournament - a live contest played on a luxury cruise ship with a guaranteed first prize of $1 million. With cable channels hungry for more poker programming, the PartyPoker.com contest was soon on television - featuring none other than Mr. Sexton as a commentator.

The company's base of players - and the cash they generated - exploded. In 2002, the casino business at PartyCasino.com, which included slot machines, blackjack games and roulette wheels, was still the big piece of PartyGaming, with 535 registered players compared with 105 registered poker players. By the end of 2004, the number of registered casino players had jumped to 1,296 while the number of poker players had soared to 5,225.

But that is only part of the story. After a blitz of television advertising in the United States, the poker games attracted an escalating number of casual players. At the end of 2002, the average number of daily active players was 1,297. Two years later, that had risen to 77,094 - and by the end of March had reached 121,570.

Profits rode right along with that growth. The company had revenue of just $9 million from its poker business in 2002; by the end of 2004, revenue had climbed to more than a half-billion dollars.

As the business grew, PartyGaming brought in more professional managers. It hired Richard Segal, the head of Odeon Limited, Britain's leading operator of movie theaters, as chief executive in 2004, and hired Michael Jackson, the chairman of the Sage Group, a big British software company, as non-executive chairman. Ms. Parasol and her husband, Mr. DeLeon, now serve as consultants to the company and, after the offering, will retain the right to name one director to the board.

At the same time, PartyGaming adopted a long-term strategy for managing its growth, which is likely to continue to be robust. According to the Christiansen Capital analysis, poker players should continue to migrate to online games over the next five years, even as new players are attracted to the game. In the process, the firm estimates, the total online poker market will mushroom to $6 billion in 2009 from $1 billion in 2004.

But there is a problem with these estimates. Players in the United States make up three-quarters of the market, and even with all that growth they are expected to continue to be at least half of the overall business. At PartyGaming, American players currently make up just under 90 percent of the company's business. And American law enforcement argues that providing online poker is simply illegal.

It is called the Interstate Wireline Act - known colloquially as the wire act. Passed in 1961 and aimed primarily at mobsters, the law prohibits anyone involved in the gambling business from using wire communication to transmit bets on "sporting events or contests."

The question becomes this: Is poker a contest? The Justice Department has historically maintained that it is and, as a result, has argued that operators of online poker, including PartyGaming, are acting in violation of the law.

But it is hardly that simple. In an astonishing bit of luck, in 2001 - just as PartyGaming was preparing to start its poker business - Federal Judge Stanwood Duval in New Orleans ruled in a case pertaining to MasterCard International that the wire act "does not prohibit Internet gambling on a game of chance." That position has since been upheld by the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals.

Still, the Justice Department has maintained that such gambling is illegal, and numerous states have argued that it violates their laws as well. Some authorities have tried flanking maneuvers to frustrate online casinos. Eliot Spitzer, New York's attorney general, for example, opened an investigation into how PayPal, the online payment firm owned by eBay, helps online bettors pay gambling companies. PayPal agreed to suspend all such payments, as did the Citibank division of Citigroup, one of the country's largest issuers of credit cards.

And there have been rumblings in Congress about toughening up federal laws to curb the business. For several years, Senator Jon Kyl, an Arizona Republican, has pushed for a federal law to prohibit the use of credit cards or other payment systems for online gambling. But each of those attempts has collapsed, as various sectors of the American gambling industry - including horse racing and Indian casinos - have sought to insert exemptions into the law for their businesses.

In an odd way, the questionable legality of online gambling in the United States ultimately proved to be a huge boost for PartyGaming. Even as hundreds of millions of dollars started rolling in from American players, gambling giants - notably the operators of Las Vegas casinos - stood on the sidelines. With valuable assets and all of their executives in the United States, none of them were willing take a chance on where the law would finally settle. That paved the way for independent virtual casinos like PartyGaming to succeed.

The company got a gambling license from Gibraltar, where it established its headquarters. It carefully made sure that none of its assets were in the United States, making it impossible for law enforcement to seize anything. Even the computer servers used to handle the poker games were located in Canada, and will be moved to Gibraltar by the end of this year.

Now, as the largest company pushing into the United States market, PartyGaming is best positioned to benefit if the question of online gambling is decided in its favor. Already, the World Trade Organization and foreign governments are siding with companies like PartyGaming and against the United States.

LATE last year, for example, the W.T.O. agreed with the Caribbean island nation of Antigua that United States legislation criminalizing online betting based in other countries violated global laws. An appellate body at the trade organization upheld the principal conclusions in that ruling in April.

Indeed, among international bodies and foreign governments, the American position on Internet gambling is becoming an object of derision. A 2003 report by the Department for Culture, Media and Sport in Britain, for example, found that there was a "growing global market for online gambling where national boundaries" no longer had any meaning.

"Nowhere is this better illustrated than in the U.S.A., where despite the apparent illegality of cross-border gambling more of its citizens gamble online than anywhere else in the world," the report says. "To deny this appears in many ways to fly in the face of the reality of international banking and the inherently international nature of 21st-century telecommunications."

With America's strongest allies throwing in the towel, PartyGaming may well have been successful with its risky roll of the dice on Internet gambling. And now this week, its owners can cash in their billions of dollars in winnings.

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Court Rules File-Sharing Networks Can Be Held Liable for Illegal Use

2005-06-27T14:57:00.000-07:00

June 27, 2005
Court Rules File-Sharing Networks Can Be Held Liable for Illegal Use
By LORNE MANLY

The United States Supreme Court ruled unanimously today that Internet file-sharing services like Grokster and StreamCast Networks could be held responsible if they encouraged users to trade songs, movies and television shows online without paying for them.

The case, which pitted the entertainment industry against technology companies in the continuing battle over the proper balance between protecting copyrights and fostering innovation, overturns lower court decisions that found the file-sharing networks were not liable because their services allowed for substantial legitimate uses. The justices said there was enough evidence that the Web sites were seeking to profit from their customers' use of the illegally shared files for the case to go back to lower court for trial.

"We hold that one who distributes a device with the object of promoting its use to infringe copyright, as shown by the clear expression or other affirmative steps taken to foster infringement, is liable for the resulting acts of infringement by third parties," Justice David H. Souter wrote for the court in Metro-Goldwyn Mayer Studios v. Grokster.

The decision was hailed by the major Hollywood studios and global music labels, which had warned that rampant online sharing of content not only harmed their bottom lines, but ultimately could inhibit the creation of new content. The recording industry has been mired in a sales slump for most of this decade, and it has blamed song-swapping over the Internet for that decline. While movies and television shows are more difficult to trade online because of their greater file sizes, technological advances are making that movement increasingly easy and threaten the cash cow that DVD sales have become for the studios.

"The Supreme Court sent a strong and clear message that businesses based on theft should not and will not be allowed to flourish," Dan Glickman, the president and chief executive of the Motion Picture Association of America, said in a statement. "This decision will be of utmost importance as we continue developing innovative and legitimate ways to marry content and technology so consumers can access entertainment on a variety of devices."

There was some relief expressed among lawyers and advocacy groups aligned with Grokster, in that the Supreme Court seemed to clearly focus its attention not on the legality of peer-to-peer technology itself, but on the behavior of players seeking to make a profit from the technology.

But there was widespread concern that the court, which provided little in the way of describing what might qualify as behavior aimed at encouraging infringement, has opened up the door to prohibitive legal battles that just might stifle future innovations.

"The court has now given as precedent to the whole world of digital technology companies a very difficult road to follow," said Richard Taranto, the lawyer who argued the case on behalf of Grokster and StreamCast before the Supreme Court.

"The immediate impact for the future of our case is not clear," he said, but the impact on future technologies "is a chilling one."

Michael Weiss, the chief executive of StreamCast, seemed to welcome the chance to prove that his company did nothing to encourage illegal behavior among its users. "We'll have another day in court," he said. "Make that several days in court."

Grokster and StreamCast had argued that there were many legitimate uses for their technology, like the transmission of material in the public domain, and had pointed to the Supreme Court's decision more than 20 years ago involving the Betamax video recorder sold by the Sony Corporation to bolster its claims that they were not responsible for any copyright violations by their customers.

The Federal District Court in Los Angeles had ruled for the defendants in the case, and the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit in San Francisco affirmed the decision last August.

But the opinion by Justice Souter dismissed the Sony Betamax comparison. Unlike the Sony case, he argued that the Grokster and StreamCast sought to capitalize on the online trading of copyrighted material and that there was "no evidence" that either company tried very hard to block or impede that sharing. "The record is replete with evidence that from the moment Grokster and StreamCast began to distribute their free software, each one clearly voiced the objective that recipients use it to download copyrighted works, and each took active steps to encourage infringement," he wrote.

The court decision, analysts said, provides media companies with the legal support to use lawsuits as an economic weapon against the file sharing networks, in addition to its efforts against individuals the movie and record industries accused of widespread sharing of files.

"This is significant win for the record and movie industries," said Gene Munster, a media analyst for Piper Jaffray & Company. "It means that file sharing networks - and not just end users - have to share some of the responsibility for piracy."

The ruling, according to analysts, could provide a lift for legal music online businesses like Apple's iStore, RealNetworks and Napster, and the emerging online movie services like Movielink, CinemaNow and Starz on RealNetworks. But that depends on consumer behavior.

"The question is, will the people who have been stealing music and movies now step up and pay for it?" Mr. Munster said. "That remains to be seen."

Steve Lohr and Tom Zeller Jr. contributed reporting for this article

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2005-06-25T17:05:00.000-07:00

Alonso aims to usurp Ferrari

2005-06-25T17:04:00.000-07:00

Michael Schumacher Ferrari

2005-06-24T12:46:00.000-07:00

Paul Krugman

June 24, 2005
The War President
By PAUL KRUGMAN

VIENNA

In this former imperial capital, every square seems to contain a giant statue of a Habsburg on horseback, posing as a conquering hero.

America's founders knew all too well how war appeals to the vanity of rulers and their thirst for glory. That's why they took care to deny presidents the kingly privilege of making war at their own discretion.

But after 9/11 President Bush, with obvious relish, declared himself a "war president." And he kept the nation focused on martial matters by morphing the pursuit of Al Qaeda into a war against Saddam Hussein.

In November 2002, Helen Thomas, the veteran White House correspondent, told an audience, "I have never covered a president who actually wanted to go to war" - but she made it clear that Mr. Bush was the exception. And she was right.

Leading the nation wrongfully into war strikes at the heart of democracy. It would have been an unprecedented abuse of power even if the war hadn't turned into a military and moral quagmire. And we won't be able to get out of that quagmire until we face up to the reality of how we got in.

Let me talk briefly about what we now know about the decision to invade Iraq, then focus on why it matters.

The administration has prevented any official inquiry into whether it hyped the case for war. But there's plenty of circumstantial evidence that it did.

And then there's the Downing Street Memo - actually the minutes of a prime minister's meeting in July 2002 - in which the chief of British overseas intelligence briefed his colleagues about his recent trip to Washington.

"Bush wanted to remove Saddam," says the memo, "through military action, justified by the conjunction of terrorism and W.M.D. But the intelligence and facts were being fixed around the policy." It doesn't get much clearer than that.

The U.S. news media largely ignored the memo for five weeks after it was released in The Times of London. Then some asserted that it was "old news" that Mr. Bush wanted war in the summer of 2002, and that W.M.D. were just an excuse. No, it isn't. Media insiders may have suspected as much, but they didn't inform their readers, viewers and listeners. And they have never held Mr. Bush accountable for his repeated declarations that he viewed war as a last resort.

Still, some of my colleagues insist that we should let bygones be bygones. The question, they say, is what we do now. But they're wrong: it's crucial that those responsible for the war be held to account.

Let me explain. The United States will soon have to start reducing force levels in Iraq, or risk seeing the volunteer Army collapse. Yet the administration and its supporters have effectively prevented any adult discussion of the need to get out.

On one side, the people who sold this war, unable to face up to the fact that their fantasies of a splendid little war have led to disaster, are still peddling illusions: the insurgency is in its "last throes," says Dick Cheney. On the other, they still have moderates and even liberals intimidated: anyone who suggests that the United States will have to settle for something that falls far short of victory is accused of being unpatriotic.

We need to deprive these people of their ability to mislead and intimidate. And the best way to do that is to make it clear that the people who led us to war on false pretenses have no credibility, and no right to lecture the rest of us about patriotism.

The good news is that the public seems ready to hear that message - readier than the media are to deliver it. Major media organizations still act as if only a small, left-wing fringe believes that we were misled into war, but that "fringe" now comprises much if not most of the population.

In a Gallup poll taken in early April - that is, before the release of the Downing Street Memo - 50 percent of those polled agreed with the proposition that the administration "deliberately misled the American public" about Iraq's W.M.D. In a new Rasmussen poll, 49 percent said that Mr. Bush was more responsible for the war than Saddam Hussein, versus 44 percent who blamed Saddam.

Once the media catch up with the public, we'll be able to start talking seriously about how to get out of Iraq.

E-mail: krugman@nytimes.com

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2005-06-24T12:07:00.000-07:00

Aspen's Journal

? The Life

? Aspen's Journal

Monday, January 10, 2005

My name is Aspen, and I am going to work at the world famous Chicken Ranch Brothel in Pahrump, Nevada, which is as close as legally possible to Las Vegas. Most people think that prostitution is legal in Las Vegas, but it is not. Yes, they do have outcall services where the girls more often than not do engage in prostitution. The outcall services do not ever mention sex for money; what they offer is an hour strip tease/massage for a flat fee. Anything else is negotiated with the call girl after the flat fee is paid. Therefore, solicitation of sex for money is illegal?the brothels are not in Clark County but in Nye County where prostitution is legal.

Photo by Benjamen Purvis

I knew that there were brothels located close to Las Vegas when my boyfriend and I first moved out here, but I really had no idea what they were like and surely never pictured myself coming to work for one. I was asked several times if this was something I would ever do, but my only answer was that I'd never really thought about it. Unlike Eden, who had danced for many years, I had never danced. So I visited Eden in the bar of the Chicken Ranch, and she took me back for a tour. I met Diamond that night as well.

I began contemplating the idea of working at a brothel, selling myself. Why? Easy money. Furniture money. I debated quite a bit with my boyfriend until I finally decided that he was OK with it and that I was really OK with it. So after a long four days of the Adult Entertainment Expo, Eden and I headed for Pahrump. I feel very fortunate to have her to help me. She has schooled me on everything and even helped me shop. She said that I was coming in with an even bigger advantage than she was because she was just dropped off her first time.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

First lineup was at about 1:30. Three guys?one was a taxi driver who came in first, and one of the three girls picked was Eden. Wow ?at least I've had my first lineup and the butterflies are starting to go away ... A little before 4 p.m., we had the second lineup of the day. It was a cute, young guy. Eden was busy, so she didn't get to see it ?I was picked!! Yea! His name was Michael, and he knew what he wanted?blowjob. Diamond came and did the Dick Check, I got the money, he cleaned up, and away we went. This was my first blowjob ever with a condom, and it wasn't all that bad. Afterwards, we laid there for a bit after he cleaned up, talking about his friend he left in Vegas playing poker. He agrees with me that Texas Hold-'Em is boring. I encouraged him to come back before he leaves on Sunday to see me and to bring his friend, who happens to be a virgin. He left happy and gave me a nice tip to prove it. The whole thing took about 40 minutes?not bad for a blowjob.

Las Vegas Weekly. All Rights Reserved

2005-06-24T12:06:00.000-07:00

The Life

Inside the brothel, days and nights are an unusual mix of strict rules, camaraderie, and sex for money. Richard Abowitz gets to know the women of the Chicken Ranch.
By Richard Abowitz

? The Life

? Aspen's Journal

It is 5 p.m. on Friday when I arrive at what looks like a typical small-town saloon?a television is turned to sports and two guys are having drinks at the bar. But there are also about a half-dozen girls spread around the room. Two are playing a game of pool. A thin girl with blond hair arches her back just so, less, it seems, to make the shot than to display her?is the correct word G-string or thong? (I could be wrong; she sinks the ball in smoking style.) A thought passes through my head, and it's the first time I have ever surveyed a room with this kind of confidence, the sort that rock stars have: I can have sex with any girl in this room any time I want. It's an unbelievable high.

Five minutes later, Debbie Rivenburgh, 48, the general manger of the Chicken Ranch, gives me a tour. Debbie, for all purposes, is the boss of the Chicken Ranch, responsible for all the prostitutes, maintenance, security, staff and shift mangers. Everyone answers to her.

Despite the building's campy front fa?ade and porch, the comfy bar and the plush, spacious parlor where the lineups take place, I am surprised to discover that within its depth the Chicken Ranch is a maze made up of five double-wide trailers interconnected by wooden passageways and other rooms added on in what seems an architecturally haphazard fashion. The walls are decorated with glamour- shot photographs of working girls, some of which seem to date from decades ago. Another hallway has a series of framed Marilyn Monroe photos. There are also some watercolors, faded perhaps from years of hanging around low ceilings and hallways that can be thick with cigarette smoke. There is huge a kitchen with three large tables, a gym, more bedrooms for girls to work than I can count jutting off in all directions, a shift manger's office, and a larger office for Debbie in the back. Behind the brothel is a pool surrounded by bungalows and a fenced back yard.

"You are about to make history," Debbie tells me as she rounds up sheets and pillowcases for me. She doesn't say this with any pleasure. She has been employed here for 18 years and never before has a reporter been allowed to move into a working girl's room for a few days to live unmonitored by her. In fact, it is her day off and she is only here to orient me before returning to her residence, which is another double-wide, placed further behind the brothel.

Over the years this has occasionally made for a thin line between her life and work. "It is a complicated business to run and it consumes your life. My personal life has suffered. I've missed events when kids were growing up because my job had to come first." It's a balance she's better at now. She just completed months of taking care of her grandkids while her daughter served in Iraq. (She's instituted a discount at the brothel for veterans as well as those currently serving.)

She doesn't think she's unusual. "The people who work here could be your next-door neighbor, because we are. All of the staff that work here are Pahrump locals that are raising families. We are just normal people."

Debbie was never a prostitute?"I took this job working part-time as a shift manager as well as two other part-time jobs. I was a change girl at Saddle West, and I did dishes in a restaurant. That's how desperate I was for work ... After six months here it turned to full-time and now it's been 18 years and I still look forward to every day I come to work. Not many people can say that about their job."

Even in our phone conversations leading to my trip?which was arranged so the dates didn't conflict with her family obligations and took place after her daughter's safe return from Iraq?Debbie made clear that to her core she's a strong traditionalist when it comes to the brothel industry:

"The man who owned the Chicken Ranch started here in 1982 and he learned the business from the working girls who were here at that time who taught him the business. He taught me the business."

The Chicken Ranch is perhaps the most famous brothel name in the United States. The original Chicken Ranch has a history that goes back to the 19th century in Texas (serving soldiers from the Civil War through WWII, cowboys, and eventually the workers drawn in by the Texas oil boom). Though prostitution was always illegal in Texas, it wasn't until 1973 that the authorities moved to close the brothel. They succeeded in shutting down the Texas establishment, but the story memorialized in the movie Best Little Whorehouse in Texas made the Chicken Ranch name legendary, and a brothel owner in Nye County acquired the rights to that name for a legal brothel. Though Debbie isn't sure, she thinks some of the older paintings on the wall may be from the original Chicken Ranch in Texas. The current owner, Kenneth Green, purchased The Chicken Ranch in 1982. Next to Debbie's desk hangs a framed photo of the front of the Chicken Ranch back then: The road leading to the brothel is still dirt, there is no front porch. Green clearly knew it wasn't much to look at. Underneath the frame is a plaque inscribed: "Would You Pay $1.25 Million for this?" (Currently the brothel is for sale and though there is no sign out front, the prices bandied about are in the $6.1 million-to-$7 million range, though the publicist for the Chicken Ranch told me that the worth of the place has been estimated at $10 million.)

"Things have evolved over the years since then to a point," Debbie says. "But I am a creature of habit. When I'm told to do something a certain way I do it that way and I don't change the way I do it. I was taught in 1987 that this is what you say, this is how you do a lineup and I still do it that way."

And that's why although radio, television and the Atlantic Monthly have all passed through the Chicken Ranch of late, Debbie still focuses on the significance of my staying in a room that would usually house a working girl as "making history," and making history in general is not something of which Debbie is inclined to approve, particularly when it involves the press. "We have been burned again and again by the press."

Mostly, Debbie's view of press falls more on the side of public service rather than with a mind toward promoting the Chicken Ranch. For example, she frequently does interviews by e-mail with college students doing research papers. She tells me that the man who ran the place before her had the same policy.

But it isn't just press. Debbie will never be excited about doing anything new at the Chicken Ranch. Take the issue of cell phones. Until quite recently they were not welcome at the Chicken Ranch. "I did not trust all of the working women to not answer their phones if they had clients in the room. And that would have been a nightmare, just a nightmare. So we didn't let the working girls have cell phones while they were here."

So even years after cells became acceptable at other brothels, the Chicken Ranch still held out. "We had two pay phones, and one was an old phone booth so the girls could have privacy." But according to Debbie, the working girls' constant complaining eventually reached a fever pitch. "They said they needed their phones to keep in touch with their families and check up on their children and all these different reasons."

Debbie was at last convinced. After much thought and discussion (about 18 months ago), a perfect solution was reached. In the shift manger's office, Debbie points to a series of little wooden cubbyholes against the far wall of the office. Each wooden box has a room number.

"We decided that we would let them keep cell phones. But when they book a client they have to check the cell phone. And they can pick up the phone when they are through with the party. It works, and we don't have to worry about the more immature girls wanting to answer their phones and talk to their husbands and boyfriends while there are customers around. It's working and I'm amazed."

Even when it comes to something as potentially profitable as setting up the website for the Chicken Ranch, the brothel was slow in coming to a decision. Debbie recalls:

"I know when the Internet started to be a big thing and people all started to get it in their homes, me and the man who taught me the business were reluctant to engage in having a website. We were old- school, and we held back because we didn't want to venture into that area because it was something we didn't know, and we were afraid of it. I know some of the other brothels and we were hearing that it was helping increase their business because guys could research. So we reluctantly gave in and got a website. I have noticed a vast change in business."

It was more than Debbie's temperament that accounted for the reticence, however. The brothels in Nevada are the only legal ones in the United States, and they exist because of the Silver State's unique history and quirky traditions. The truth is, all they have is that past; there is no guarantee of a future. Debbie fully realizes this. "Is it ever going to be legalized anywhere else? Probably not. Most people can't see past 'prostitution'; it's such a bad word." And therefore, time is likely not on the side of the Nevada brothels and particularly those near Pahrump.

When Debbie arrived in Pahrump in 1987, the population was about 3,000. It's now a town of over 30,000. The week after I left the Chicken Ranch?in what the Review-Journal reported to be one of the largest crowds ever to show up at a Pahrump Town Board meeting?a motion to lift a ban against brothels within Pahrump city limits to allow the annexation of the tiny bit of Nye County that includes The Chicken Ranch and neighboring Sheri's Ranch, was rejected. The town board member who sponsored the brothel amendment is quoted in the paper as estimating that this would've meant about $13 million over the next decade for cash-starved Pahrump; probably more tax revenue than any other business in the town. Though the bill would have created no new brothels and there was a common-sense financial benefit to making this annexation, Pahrump's citizens didn't want to have as part of their city the same brothels that were already a long-standing part of their community.

It's not an isolated case.

The Nevada Legislature just approved a massive new entertainment tax on topless strip clubs and, despite the brothel industry's lobbying efforts, the legal prostitution houses were exempted from the tax. On June 10, the R-J's John G. Edwards, reporting on the bill, noted, "Legal brothels, which operate in places such as Pahrump, will continue to avoid the entertainment tax even though a brothel-industry representative asked that brothels be included." In the history of the United State has there ever been another industry that has lobbied to pay more taxes? And that's the rub?the nation's only legal brothels exist always a vote away from extinction, with only a long tradition to protect them in a fast-growing community like Pahrump, with increasingly fewer people connected to local history. It can't be a good thing when politicians are scared to tax you.

I ask Debbie if she feels the days of legal brothels in Nye Country are numbered.

"I think they will stay legal into the future, but how far into the future I don't know. As this town grows and you have your younger families raising children moving to town, you're hearing more and more opposition to us being here. But we stay down here where we're at, we don't abuse the emergency services in town?I have been here 18 years and I've never once had to call the sheriff's department to assist us. We like to be a good neighbor to the people who live down in this area. As long as we continue to stay down here, be good to the town and don't bother anybody, then we'll be OK."

So while the brothels near Reno?where the population boom is far less extreme and threatening to the legality of the brothels?have been active in courting publicity, porn-star appearances and, these days, even presenting the occasional reality television fodder for cable, things have stayed far more traditional in Southern Nevada. And that's especially true at the Chicken Ranch.

? ? ?

This desire to stay on the lowdown is also perhaps a significant factor in what everyone agrees is the most onerous practice of brothels in Nevada, the lockdown. Lockdown is custom, not law, and it is practiced primarily by Southern Nevada brothels including the Chicken Ranch and neighboring Sheri's Ranch.

During the periods the women work?which can last for months at a time (the minimum stay at the Chicken Ranch is 10 days with girls always spending the first few days unable to work until STD test results arrive from a clinic in Las Vegas)?prostitutes are not allowed beyond the gates that enclose the brothel. Debbie admits that lockdown is hard on the girls:

"People tend to lose sight?and even I tend to lose sight?in the day-to-day grind, that they have lives outside of here. To completely leave your life and go be locked up in a place for a couple weeks at a time, well, your personal life doesn't come to a standstill."

The girls are more blunt in referring to life under lockdown as "pussy prison."

The only exception to lockdown is on Tuesday, dubbed "Doctor Day," where the girls are allowed into Pahrump on their own for no more than four hours?divided into morning and afternoon shifts so there are always women available for customers back at the brothel, which is open 24/7. But even on this day there are limits. First off, at least an hour of that precious time away from the Chicken Ranch is spent at the doctor's office getting more STD tests.

Unofficially, the girls are discouraged from going to casinos, hotels and any other high-profile place or places they could conceivably ply their trade outside of the legal confines of the brothel. They are also asked to dress modestly and behave appropriately.

In fact, the brothel management, according to a few working girls, is so nervous about the weekly outings to Pahrump that according to one girl, "That pretty much just leaves Wal-Mart, the grocery store, the gas station and fast food as the places we can go." On the Doctor Day I am there, despite having spent a week straight bottled up in the brothel, all of the girls who went out that Tuesday morning returned more than an hour before curfew. There just isn't much they can do in Pahrump.

The tour ends in front of my home for the next few days. Room 7 is a Spartan affair with a bureau, a mattress hoisted up on four cinder blocks next to a small nightstand, the lower drawer of which?where the Gideon Bible would be in a hotel?is filled with medical waste bags to dispose of condoms. The carpet has that meaningless gray-tan color that would be immediately recognizable to apartment renters in Las Vegas. There is a television with a reading lamp placed next to it. I figure they are being thoughtful, knowing that as a writer I will be making use of the lamp. I put it on the nightstand and adjust it to reflect on my notebook, thinking it pretty convenient. It is only the next morning that I learn the lamp's actual purpose: the girls use it to perform dick checks on customers to make sure they have no visible signs of an STD.

I share a bathroom across the hall with T. and any of T.'s customers who want to use it. She's a tall blond in her late 30s who is completing the testing for a regular job in the medical field and wishes to be identified only as T. There are nicer rooms with faux-wood floors, and one I saw even had a private bathroom. But those are for the girls who are regulars. My room is meant for the more transient girls. And while there is certainly a lot of turnover in a business like this one, there are also some surprisingly long-term working girls employed at the Chicken Ranch. One tall blond who can't yet be 30 has been living here more or less since 1997, and every morning she walks the brothel's dog, Heidi, and pays for and feeds the brothel cat, Meow Meow.

After showing me to my room, the first thing Debbie does is call a mandatory meeting to introduce me to the working girls and staff and to make sure everyone is aware that I will be around reporting a story. They have just finished dinner?meals are served at noon and 5 p.m. and so the gathering takes place in the kitchen. A few days earlier, Debbie told me over the phone about the considerable effort and time on her part it took to prepare the girls for my arrival. She said it wasn't easy. The girls were used to the routine under lockdown and having anyone?but especially a man?stay over at the house was very troubling to some of them. So Debbie's regulations seemed compiled more to meet the concerns she heard from those girls along the way than to protect the brothel from my snooping. She gives us all a handout labeled "Richard" with a dozen rules. Typical among them:

"Do not listen to or include in your article any private conversations between working girls."

"Do not enter the working girls' bedrooms unless you are invited by one of the interview participants."

"Above all, respect the privacy of the women who are not participating with you."

Even the girls who had appeared to be party animals (who I am introduced to as Trinity and Diamond) in the bar just a few moments before are now fully focused employees paying close and sober attention. It turns out, there were no fast times going on in the bar, anyway, at least not when I got here. The scene I had witnessed in the bar when I arrived at the Chicken Ranch was nothing more than a "barlor," a display of the wares meant for the two men who had been sitting watching the television. ("Barlor" comes from "bar" and "parlor".)

When the customers request a barlor, the working girls must all file into the bar and introduce themselves, and after that comes the awkward period when the men must make some decisions for things to go forward. The decision of which, if any, girl to choose is one I soon learn guys love to agonize over and put off making. During the next few days I will see countless barlors and they tend to all end up like a bad high-school dance: boys on one side of the room, girls on the other. After introductions, the men tend to talk among themselves and the girls must wait to be asked back to their room, and so amuse themselves by playing pool or sitting together chatting. Some girls resent this waste of time since so many men arrive simply as gawkers.

Photo by Benjamen Purvis

"I don't really like barlors," Eden tells me. "Unless there is a barlor, most of us who don't really drink much never go in there." (Eden has great hair and a lovely face and no illusions about her number-one selling point, her chest: i.e., her website address, Eden38dd.com). Eden explains that she tends to prefer the more traditional lineup that, while somewhat more demeaning, involves less socializing and works better for keeping the customers from procrastinating. Actually, it isn't too long after Eden and I start talking that I get to go see for myself, as the bell rings to signal to all the girls in the house that a customer has arrived for a lineup.

There is nothing more ritualized and traditional at the Chicken Ranch than the lineup. The customer or customers sit on thick, comfortable sofas while the girls all crowd in the hallway adjacent to the parlor, around the corner, passing back intelligence reports on the age, nationality and whatever other details of the men become available from sneaked glimpses.

"Ladies you have a visitor," the shift manger says. And, with that, the girls file out and stand single file in a row in front of the sofas. A curtain covering the back wall parts, revealing a mirror behind the girls that allows customers a rear view. Each girl introduces herself, but is not allowed to say anything else. As in the barlors, customers tend to not want to make up their mind, and that can be agonizing for the girls who must stand half- naked (and, if it is late enough, half asleep, too) fully displayed. The girls try to hide their discomfort and smile and project a sensual attitude, but it is hard for them not to inwardly groan when, as usually happens, the customers will stall for time with something like, "Wow, they are all so lovely. Can I have all of them?" Mostly, the girls are good-natured enough to laugh as if amused by this line they hear every day. If the men take too long, it is up to the shift manager to nudge things along with "Are you ready to go back with one of the girls now?" or "I really can't have them just keep standing out here like this. Is there someone who you would like to spend time with?"

After being picked?either by lineup or barlor?the girl then takes the customer back to her room to negotiate money. Though the menu of available services itself is posted on the website ( www.chickenranchbrothel.com), it is without prices since the working girls are independent contractors and they fix their own rates. One of the few truly sensitive areas to both the brothel and the working girls is the discussion?to be blunt?of how much specific sex acts cost. The truth is, even for the girl the amount can vary. A customer can strike a better deal during a slow time than during one that is busy. The problem is that it's almost impossible for a customer to know which times are busy and when things are slow.

On Saturday night I ask the shift manager when the rush begins. "Who knows?" she says. "This isn't a nightclub." And that's true. Saturday night turned out to be far quieter than Saturday afternoon, when the bell rang over a dozen times before noon. Monday evening seemed busier than Saturday night. Who would've guessed?

Diamond, Trinity and T. call themselves the three musketeers. All sexy and ready do business on Saturday night, instead they sit crashed out together on the couch watching three movies in a row on the Lifetime channel. According to Trinity: "We also watch Jerry Springer and every day at 2 there is our soap opera, Passions." I could be wrong, but based on their dedication, my guess is there will be no discounting from these girls when Passions is on.

Over my time there I am stunned at how cheap guys can be. Especially, since?and, of course, there is no way for customers to know this?behind the scenes every little difference means more than you think to the working girls. I am sure it has to do with the deeply personal nature of what they are selling. But there are probably no other workers whose income can easily enter the six figures annually whose personal happiness is so much increased by performing an act for $600 instead of $500. The girls don't use the word "date," preferring "party," and if you kick in the extra hundred it really does make the girl feel more like she is at a party.

Interestingly, no girl would admit to performing the act differently or more enthusiastically on account of money. The sex a girl provides for $800 would be little different than the sex for $400 (if you can get her to agree to it). In short: halfhearted sex is not for sale at a discount. During my time at the Chicken Ranch the range was extraordinary, with deals cut that ranged from $200 to $3,000 (for a bungalow). All of this money is split 50/50 with the brothel. The girls must also pay $30 room and board to the brothel as well as pay for their own medical testing (about $60 a week) and even provide their own condoms. So in general, the girls who make the most money are doing it through volume rather than a few high rollers. According to Eden, "I don't have notches in my bedpost, because at this point my bedpost would be shredded to a toothpick."

Still, making the girls' happy isn't the only reason to err on the side of bringing too much money to the Chicken Ranch if you go, because not having enough can mean a long, wasted trip from Vegas. Amazingly it happens all the time. On Saturday morning at 7 a.m. a man paid $150 to arrive by taxi from Vegas, only to not have enough money left for what he came here for.

By my estimate about half of the men who actually go back with a girl wind up leaving because they are unwilling to reach an agreement. Often though, the deal-breaker isn't money but the customer wanting an activity that is either banned by law (oral sex without a condom, for example) or something that the girls refuse to do, according to Eden: "For most girls it's: no kissing on the mouth, no fingering, and don't bite me."

Still, according to Eden, customers tend to be respectful. Eden says of the typical customer: "I would say generally it is 35- to 65-year-old professional men. It is a demographic of people with the disposable income and that generally is pretty nice guys."

A marketing major a few credits shy of graduation, Eden explains her approach to prostitution as a mix of entrepreneurship and post-post-post (hell, this kind hasn't even started yet) feminism. "I go about it as a business. I am a smart girl and I am an attractive girl so I know I can do many, many different things. But this is fulfilling an aspect of my sexual life. Most people don't embrace their sexuality for all it's worth. If you are a sexual person, you enjoy all the aspects of sex, the different things. Just because it is not mainstream doesn't mean it's wrong. Sex is such a crazy thing. Whatever is enjoyable sexually is in the mind and body and spirit no matter what it may be. And I am just a very sexual person and I am making a business out of it. Would I be doing this for free? No!"

Eden, of course, realizes she is an exception and this job is not always the career of first choice. "Lots of girls that do this line of work aren't good for anything else. I don't know how to say it without being politically incorrect, but this is all they can do. They are out here because they have no home, no place else to go. They have nothing. This is all they are good for. That seems very sad. But I also think they have the potential (because of the amount of money they earn) to do so much more with themselves but they opt not to do it. They are doing what they want to do with it and so I don't criticize them."

In a society where being a model for Playboy has become a status symbol of the highest order, most of the adult entertainment jobs that used to be a lifetime stain are now acceptable (two weeks ago a former stripper was elected to a judgeship). Also, to a large extent, strippers and even porn stars are now glorified by the mainstream media. But prostitutes are the day laborers of the sex business. The cultural status of a prostitute is as loathsome now as it was 20 years ago and the workers at the Chicken Ranch feel it acutely. And for all her independence, her pride in her ability to earn money and to manage her career and, most of all, to be exactly who she wants to be, even with all of that, Eden feels the sting of society's disapproval:

"In general with everything else I don't care what you think. I don't care what you think about what I look like; I don't care what you think about the way I dress; I don't care what you think about my car; I don't care what you think about me in any way, shape or form whatsoever. But yet when it comes down to this I don't tell people. Instantly, no matter how good a person you are, no matter how religious you are, what a good mother you are, what a good cook, no matter what it is you do that you are excellent at, at that point that you tell someone you are a prostitute you become a scum of the Earth. In general you are instantly degraded for that to the bottom of the barrel."

So why would Eden?so smart and capable?choose work that generates such hostility in the outside world such that even someone as fearless as she is balks at mentioning her work to people? "There are three factors. What order they go in, I don't know. It varies day by day. To me money is a factor, to me being able to use my sexuality in a positive way for me appeals to me, too." She then turns silent for a full minute. I can see in her face that she is struggling for a way to express the third factor, and I try to imagine what it could possibly be and draw a blank. When she starts talking again it is without her usual lucidity. Her sentences start, then stop, then try again. Yet this is clearly the most important thing of all to her:

"Third, um. Then probably third. Probably." There is another long pause. "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have somebody thank you for being so nice to them and making them feel so good ... um ... making them appreciate life again. I mean, I have had someone say to me that coming out here ... Someone can enjoy themselves enough to go back to appreciating life. I have had someone say something that deep to me. Sometimes people come out here and you personally create a life-altering experience for that person. That to me is very rewarding."

This is Eden's story of that customer:

"A gentleman came out here. He was probably about 60. We went back and I gave him a menu. He says, 'No, this is going to be a special situation.' I'm like, 'OK, just talk to me.' He proceeded to tell me it was the two-year anniversary of his wife dying of cancer. Since she had passed away he had not been able to get past the fact that he loved his wife and that she is gone. He had not been able to have any relationships or to allow his life to move on because he had this guilt. He said, 'I am trying to make my life go on and to believe that just because my life goes on I don't love my wife any less. I picked you because my wife had red hair and was built like you. You actually resemble her. All I want you to do is just lay here next to me and let me hold you. I don't need you to talk to me or do anything. I just want to lay here and hold you and think of you as my wife and think about how much I loved her and what she felt like to me. I just want to say my good-byes to the only woman in my life.' We had no sexual contact whatsoever. He lay there for an hour and he held me in a spoon position, and he just cried. It took everything I had not to wail, but I figured that I couldn't break down because I was there being strong for him."

Eden kept in touch with the man until he sent a final e-mail telling her that he was remarrying and thanking her for helping him begin to move forward.

The girls frequently develop friendships with customers that can be hard for an outsider to fathom. One of the few customers willing to talk to me was Ernest, 37, of Las Vegas, a contractor with sandy blond hair standing about 6 feet 2 inches tall with a bit of a belly. He was Diamond's friend though not her customer?well, not exactly. "I don't party with her," Ernest says. "I did a two-girl party once with her and she was in the way and so technically I never partied with her. She's not my type." Rather Diamond is charged with picking the girl for Ernest to party with.

Ernest and I are sitting at the bar discussing this while watching Diamond and Trinity play pool, and Trinity is topless, because those are the stakes, and she is losing. As Diamond had told me earlier, "Sometimes we have drinks and play pool and wait for guys to come in. I always beat her. Trinity is a good friend but a bad pool player."

"Would you party with me?" Trinity asks Ernest.

His diplomatic answer: "I would have fun, but you probably wouldn't be my type."

"I knew it!" Trinity says.

I ask Ernest: "What's your type?"

"I'll tell you," Trinity says. "He likes a little bit of an older woman." Trinity is 21. Diamond is 25.

"Is that true?" I ask Ernest.

"I tend to enjoy myself more with the older women."

The women here today range from 21 to 41.

Ernest recalls his first trip to Chicken Ranch: "I'd been divorced for awhile. I hadn't been with anybody and so I decided to come out here. I was certainly nervous. I did the lineup. I've only done one lineup and that was the first time." That was about a year ago. These days he drops by a couple nights a week.

Two more men come in for a barlor and the room fills up suddenly with girls. I ask Ernest how many of the girls now in the room has he partied with? He surveys the area and then to my embarrassment he points and starts counting out loud like the Cookie Monster: "Um, 1, 2, 3, let's see, ah, 4, 5, 6. I guess around 7."

Ernest uses all of the clich?s to compare the brothel experience to the dating world: "The cost is about the same. I am serious. I am a numbers person, and I've gone through the numbers. I justify it. Here if I go back with somebody, I am going to be going back with somebody who I know is clean. That's the main thing. But the other thing is that I get what I want. I usually get treated really well. I feel comfortable with a girl when I go back with her. There have been a couple times when I partied with a girl and I would never party with her again, but I never felt cheated. They are courteous. I feel like I am at home out here. Everyone treats me like part of the family." But Ernest's popularity has not come cheap: "Since December of last year I've spent about $12,000." Still, not every visit is a party. "Sometimes I go months without a party."

"Are you going to party tonight?" I ask him.

"I haven't decided yet," he says. He sips his beer, not taking his eyes off Diamond.

"When do you make the decision?"

"When the mood hits me. And who knows when that will be?"

Ultimately, the mood hits Ernest, and Diamond picks the third Musketeer, T., for him. "I picked her because she is an older woman and I thought they would have more in common than someone my age and that would make him more comfortable. I know what he likes and doesn't like," Diamond says.

The friendship between the girls themselves is less complicated and in many ways more intense because they live together in such close quarters for such extended periods of time. When I arrive, for example, Diamond has been working at the Chicken Ranch for over three months straight. "The first two and half months were a piece of cake, but now I am starting to get a little crazy. Sometimes I am not in the mood and sometimes I get irritated fast." It is a position few could understand and this is how she defines the Three Musketeers:

"A couple girls came in and I got attached to them. We kind of hang out together, drink together and party together with guys. And of course, we watch movies on Lifetime. When you are down and out they are like family who are in the same business. They can tell you how to get through it. And we can be there to give each other support. It is a bond that we make between us three."

But even among the girls who don't seem particularly close there are surprising relationships. Eden and Diamond appear polar opposites. Think what you want of her work; Eden is sophisticated, thoughtful and articulate. Diamond is brash, tough and has a street education that at first appalled me with some ignorant comments she made about HIV positive people. I never once saw Eden speaking to Diamond or to any of the other Three Musketeers. I didn't see Eden so much as glance at the television that Diamond seems to watch with every free moment of time available to her. I thought of them as residing in different universes even within the limited space of the brothel. I assumed in fact that they probably did not even like each other. Even Debbie remarked at the contrast: "Diamond is more a little-girl personality whereas you have Eden who is more serious."

Then one night Eden takes me aside:

"This is going to surprise you. But you would never guess that one of the girls I am closest here with is Diamond. It surprises me. We are so different. I don't think we would have ever become friends if we had met outside of here. But we share a bathroom here and we are both neat freaks. She and I both tend to earn a lot of money and so there are occasionally jealousy issues with other girls. We have that in common. I am picking her up at the airport when she next flies out next time, and she is spending the night at my place."

The friend I see Eden spend most of her time talking with is Aspen. Eden, in fact, talked Aspen, whose previous work experience was as a sixth-grade teacher, into coming to work at the Chicken Ranch. "Yes, I recruited Aspen," Eden admits with a laugh. "She is a personal friend of mine back in Vegas, and once I got to know her I figured out she was very open, very nonjudgmental and very sexual. I had been telling her I was a stripper when I was actually out here. But when I got to the point that I was comfortable with her and I told her what I did, she thought it was really neat. And at that point we talked openly about it, and she thought it would be interesting to try and do just for the experience. So she came out here with me in January and really liked it."

? ? ?

It was Aspen who wound up being picked from the lineup to take care of a severely handicapped 32-year-old man whose parents took him to the brothel. I found out from Eden later that the father? on vacation from Florida and who I couldn't help notice was bedecked in gold neck chains that suggested finances were not a serious issue for the family?lowballed Aspen on the price. While Aspen was with their son the parents watched television in the bar. Their son had very limited use of his hands and feet and as the parents worried that Aspen would charge more to dress him afterwards, they suggested she send for them when she was finished so they could put his clothes back on.

"His parents told me what he wanted," Aspen explained to me later. Aspen thinks the man was probably a virgin though she is not sure. "He told me, 'I don't have a girlfriend. I probably won't ever have a girlfriend.' So, I really, really wanted him to have a good time. I wanted it to be a very good experience for him so he would have that memory."

"Eden told me you weren't paid very much?"

"No I wasn't."

"She said it was the lowest you could take."

"Well, yes, but ..."

"But nothing. I saw the chains around the dad's neck. That family could have paid you a lot more."

Aspen sighs: "I gave them a range and they went to the lower end. But they weren't asking for anything outrageous and he was very nice, a very bashful man. The parents wanted me to come get them to dress him. But I thought if I could undress him I could dress him again. I just thought it would be more comfortable for him if I did it. And I did it. It was no problem."

"And you didn't mind going the extra mile for people who didn't want to pay you a penny more than they could get away with?" I ask.

Aspen waves her hand dismissing the notion and then she says: "I think he probably has the heart of a trouper himself. In some strange way I was grateful, because he reminded me of my husband."

It is one of those many moments at the Chicken Ranch where expectations, preconceptions and everything else explodes. "Excuse me?" I ask.

It turns out that Aspen is a widow. "My husband wasn't quite like that, but after he had a stroke he lost a lot of the use of the left side of his body." Aspen took care of her husband for three years like that before he passed on in 2001. Because she is widow of a man who knew he was dying, Aspen was taken care of financially to some extent. She is one of the few girls at the Chicken Ranch who is definitely not there primarily for the money. She too is seeking to explore her sexuality, though she does admit to earning good "furniture money" for her house.

Over days living with the working girls if I formed one real bond, it was with Aspen. I tell Debbie that Aspen is the sort of person who I would be friends with in the "real world." It is the truth. Aspen and I spend hours talking and very little of it winds up being about the Chicken Ranch. We both like Edgar Allan Poe, can spend an afternoon discussing Shakespeare, have an interest in biblical scholarship and enjoy debating philosophy. We get each other's taste enough to recommend books to each other. Not that we are identical. Aspen enjoys karaoke and has a fondness for Meatloaf's singing that I find hard to abide. But one night, sprawled on the floor of Aspen's room listening to Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited (someone has to save her from a life of Meatloaf fandom) I feel exactly like I am back at my college dorm hanging out in a friend's room. When the bell rings for a lineup it is a shock to be reminded that in reality I am sitting in working girl's room in a brothel in Nye County.

Yet, as diverse as all the working girls I meet at the Chicken Ranch are, I do notice that there are some similarities. Aspen is not alone in possessing a nurturing personality. Even Diamond, when asked what she would like to do if she could choose any career answers without hesitation: "My dream is to go to college so that I can be a nurse." This desire to take care of people is perhaps the greatest vulnerability the working girls share. And it is exploited.

Many of the girls have boyfriends and husbands and about the only common denominator among them: None of the men in their lives seem to have regular work. Of course, one has to be careful about stereotyping; there were many working girls at the Chicken Ranch I did not speak with and some girls I did interview chose not to discuss their private life at all, a decision that was respected. Some girls put up a valiant fight, too, claiming that their man was needed to watch children (as if millions of single parents don't pull that miracle off each week and work, too) while they were under lockdown, or that he was engaged in crucial home- improvement projects that otherwise would need to be paid for by a contractor (another feat pulled off by millions of working folks who keep the registers at Home Depot humming), or, perhaps, he is needed to handle the time-consuming task of paying bills and running the business affairs for a girl while she was at the Chicken Ranch (all of which can be done from the brothel thanks to phones and Internet access, not to mention: How could the few things left be too much to allow time for a job?). There were other answers, too. All foolish.

I tell Debbie that I have noticed a pattern. "That's just part of life and you can't judge them for that," Debbie says. "I learned early on that there was part of me that just needed to understand. If there was a girl who was willing to discuss her personal life with me she had to take whatever feedback I had or whatever questions I wanted to ask. But I gave up asking those kinds of questions, because there is always a reason. To me, 'Why does he not he have a job?' you just take as part of the business. And after awhile you just don't pay attention to it anymore, it just doesn't faze you."

And, when Debbie says she doesn't judge the working girls, she means it. She stops me cold when I offer my theory that on some level the answer to why men are able to accept their girlfriends/wives working at a brothel is that they are living off the proceeds. "That's a difficult area," Debbie interrupts. "I am not going to try to figure it out. I gave up trying to figure it out. There's a lot of things I gave up trying to figure out years ago and that's one of them."

Trinity is one of the few girls who is single and so is willing to discuss it. I ask her about the dismal employment rate among the partners of working girls. "Pretty much, yeah. A lot of times the other half chooses not to work because we woman make enough. We make a lot of money." Trinity estimates her monthly income at $9,000 to $12,000 a month. Another girl tells me she shoots for $500 for each day she works. Another is preparing to leave after an extended stay with close to $40,000 saved.

Of course, only the more successful girls are willing to talk to me about their earnings, and there are plenty of whispered horror stories of women who don't earn enough to cover their room, board and bar tab (girls drink if they want to, but not to excess). Not making enough to cover those bills, by the way, would be a good hint to get out of the business. Even Aspen, who is a relative newbie with only a half-dozen trips to the brothel (most lasting only a couple weeks) has had just one day when she did not have at least one customer. Few jobs make it easier at giving you the news that it is time to stop. It is certainly true that I had less sex?none, yeah, you needed to know, didn't you??than any other resident in the history of Room 7 at the Chicken Ranch.

But one thing my time at the brothel taught me is that nothing is straightforward, no judgment fully comfortable to make once you allow yourself into the details of a brothel's reality. Even something as seriously twisted as lockdown occasionally has strange benefits. Debbie points out: "I've seen girls come here who have a pimp. They come here and they start to get a clearer picture of the controlling abuse and the negatives that guy is having on their life. Because they are away from it and they can see it. And the girls support each other when and if they are fed up with the man. I've seen that a lot."

Of course, one person's idea of a pimp is another person's spouse and the distinction can be a very slender one in relationships where the man produces no income. Besides, lockdown can place significant stress on even the most stable relationship. Eden and Aspen (who met the man she lives with now about a year after her husband's death) have both been with the same partner for years. But they admit the topic of whether their boyfriend cheats during the weeks while they are out at the Chicken Ranch is one they can't stop talking about with each other. And Eden and Aspen both have seen plenty of cheating husbands at the Chicken Ranch. Both, of course, tell me that they are sure their man isn't a cheater, though Aspen seems to have more conviction on this point than Eden.

But mostly it is the little indignities of lockdown that are so hard on the girls; even meals take on ridiculous importance. Debbie puts it this way:

"I try to impress upon a new cook how important meal times are to a girl, because of the fact that they are locked up in here, they look forward to their meals. That is the one thing that changes every day in their life."

Debbie's mom Joan is a cook, and says, "Out here they like spaghetti. They like meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy. They like fried chicken and Mexican. I cook for them like I cooked for my family." Many girls also snack from one of the stocked refrigerators, and all say they gain weight at the brothel.

Still, while it seems trivial, Diamond and Trinity got very excited Sunday afternoon when I offered to bring them back whatever they wanted when I decided to make a run to Subway. On my way out I remembered one of the dozen rules was "Check in with the shift manager anytime you want to do something not covered here." So, thinking it routine, I asked at the shift office when I went to be buzzed out of the gate. Debbie wasn't around, and there was a change going on in shift managers. Standing with them was an office employee. But when I asked about bringing back some subs an intense three-way conversation broke out (one shift manager was inclined to say yes, and the other no with the office worker firmly disapproving to shift the balance). Permission was denied. Still in shock I find Diamond, who didn't seem at all surprised by the decision. "Don't worry about it. Don't get yourself in trouble," she tells me.

This is typical of the flip side of lockdown. Whatever the legitimate arguments for the practice, the prostitutes at a brothel on some level should always be treated as adults who are at work. Yet a shift manger has it in her power (they are all women) to treat an employee more like a prisoner than an independent contractor who is residing at her work location. The humiliation of this sort of treatment can sometimes be staggering to outsiders. I can almost see the sign on the cage: DON'T FEED THE HOOKERS. The power that brothels wield over the working girls who reside there can land in ways that are as overwhelming as they are arbitrary.

In the end, I smuggle back a contraband Subway sub for Diamond and Trinity to split.

? ? ?

My time at the Chicken Ranch was clearly coming to an end, and not just because I proved unable to follow the rules for more than a few days. On Monday a new batch of girls arrived for quarantine and Debbie had not prepped them for a reporter living at the Chicken Ranch. Their hostility was palpable. For the girls who had existed under lockdown for days straight before I arrived that Friday afternoon, having me around had turned out to be a novelty, but for these new girls, having a guy in one of their rooms was a distraction at best and at heart seemed to throw off the balance of their private space.

I realize now that Debbie had not been exaggerating when she spoke about how much effort it took her to get the working girls to be OK with my being at the Chicken Ranch these few days. It probably didn't help that a girl who has been assigned to Room 7 was being forced to live in a bunk bed (she was quarantined still, and could not work so didn't yet need the room) in another room while waiting for me to vacate so that she could set the place up as she wanted it. Though I had agonized about if it would be perceived as rude to bring my own sheets to the brothel (ultimately deciding not to do so), most girls bring way more than sheets; they completely personalize their rooms from the drapes to the art on the walls.

So on Tuesday morning I pack up my stuff to vacate. It is Doctor Day and Eden, Aspen, Trinity and Diamond all are on their morning excursion to Pahrump. I decide to wait for them to return to say farewell before leaving. But just as they get back my friend John arrives at the brothel with a friend of his I don't know. We are all sitting in the bar when the unthinkable happens; he starts to behave like a customer, and not one of the nicer ones. First he demands a tour of the brothel. Then after ordering a drink he begins to crack witticisms like, "How much would you charge to let me fart in your face?" Having already introduced him as a friend I decide the only thing to do is just slink out the door like anyone in the midst of a shame spiral. And I make it as far as the front porch when Aspen calls me back to the door of the parlor she has raced around the bar to get to in order to catch me before I escaped beyond the gate, outside the range of her lockdown.

"Hey, don't sneak off. It's fine about your friend. We get stuff like that all the time. Maybe you'll write something that helps people understand us better."

"I am really sorry about John."

She reaches over and pulls me into a quick hug. It is my first physical contact at the brothel. We say nothing for a moment. We are both looking over at Meow Meow, who is making a rare afternoon appearance on the porch where her food bowl is kept under a chair. Inside, I can hear John's laughter. He borrowed some cash from me before I left (an accident in Southern Nevada took out the ATM that morning so he can't use his card) and I wonder if he'll wind up spending it. I feel bad keeping Aspen since I hope she gets his money as much as anyone. They all deserve it for putting up with him. "What a strange way for your story to end," she says

"No," I tell Aspen, "This is the perfect ending."

I reach over and hug her back and then head to my car

Las Vegas Weekly. All Rights reserved

2005-06-22T12:46:00.000-07:00

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/

Vegas' Growth Is Gamble for Lake
Some fear sprawl will put more pollutants in Lake Mead and want treated sewage dumped deeper in it. Others say it'll just shift problems.
By Bettina Boxall
Times Staff Writer

June 19, 2005

Las Vegas' relentless growth has raised concerns that the city's expansion will send more pollutants into Lake Mead, hurting water quality in the nation's biggest reservoir and the source of drinking supplies for millions in Southern California and the Southwest.

With each new subdivision in the southern Nevada desert, more wastewater and urban runoff drains into Mead, a sparkling blue national recreation area but also the receptacle for all of metropolitan Las Vegas' treated sewage.

A wastewater coalition is proposing a solution: a massive pipeline that would take most of the effluent from a wash that now empties into a shallow bay and instead dump it directly into the cold depths of the lake closer to Hoover Dam. There, in theory, it would undergo more dilution and be less likely to feed surface algal blooms.

But some experts fear the pipeline project could simply export the pollution threat out of Mead to the lower Colorado River, where Southern California and Arizona draw water. "It's not a good situation for those downstream," said Alexander J. Horne, a UC Berkeley professor emeritus in environmental engineering and part of a team that reviewed computer modeling of the proposed pipeline project.

He and others argue that moving the wastewater outfall several miles south, closer to the dam, will eliminate natural scrubbing that now occurs in the wash and the lake. That could make it more likely that algae-breeding nutrients such as phosphorous will migrate out of Mead and reach the lower Colorado.

Douglas W. Karafa, program administrator for the Las Vegas Valley wastewater coalition that is overseeing the pipeline project, said that while phosphorous levels might rise slightly, they would remain well within water quality standards. "Saying there is a little more phosphorous going out of Hoover Dam doesn't necessarily relate to anything that is going to happen environmentally," Karafa said.

The ever-increasing volume of effluent draining out of the Las Vegas Valley makes it imperative, he said, that the outfall be moved from Las Vegas Wash, which carries a steady stream of treated sewage into Mead from the region's three water reclamation plants.

The daily effluent flow has swelled to 170 million gallons from 40 million gallons in the 1970s. It is projected to hit 300 million gallons by 2030 and 400 million gallons by 2050. There will be so much wastewater that planners want to use it to power an underground hydroelectric plant that would be built as part of the pipeline project.

The flow has eroded the 12-mile wash, cutting deep channels, tearing out wetlands and dumping sediment into the lake that hurts water quality.

Researchers have found that fish living near the wash's outlet in Las Vegas Bay have lower sex hormone levels and trace amounts of birth control chemicals and other compounds present in the wastewater.

Algae, which can be a pollution problem, has at times reached troubling levels in the bay, probably stoked by nutrients found in the discharge ? a situation expected to worsen as the wastewater flow increases.

To ease the effect on the wash and the relatively shallow bay, the wastewater coalition is proposing a $600-million project that would divert most of the effluent into a 12-foot-wide pipeline nearly 20 miles long. The pipe would extend seven miles through the River Mountains and release the waste into the lake about 1 1/2 miles off Boulder Beach, at a depth of roughly 260 feet.

Designed to encourage dilution and to keep the effluent in an algae-hostile dark layer of the lake, the new outfall would also move the wastewater flows downstream, away from the intakes that Las Vegas uses to draws its drinking water from Mead.

But like Horne, Mic Stewart, the water quality manager for the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, worries that moving the wastewater discharge to within about 3 1/2 miles of Hoover Dam would leave more phosphorous and other nutrients in the water to flow through the dam to the lower Colorado.

"Even a little bit of increase in phosphorous in the river could stimulate algal growth," Stewart said.

G. Chris Holdren, a U.S. Bureau of Reclamation lake expert who was on the modeling review team, says the outfall move might even pose a threat to the lake above the dam. "The problems as I see them ? depending on how the discharge eventually gets mixed into Lake Mead ? is a potential increase in the algal blooms in the open part of the lake where it could impact recreation."

Algae can be toxic, although Mead's blooms so far have not been. Much of Mead, normally a clear blue, turned a cloudy pea green in 2001 when a giant bloom spread across its western portions. But fish and water quality were not affected.

Still, the 2001 bloom ? the cause of which remains unclear ? illustrated Mead's long reach. "The bloom was so extensive that it spread throughout the lower Colorado River system ? and even into reservoirs in the Southland region as far south as San Diego, a distance of about 400 miles," Stewart said.

The best solution to the algae threat, he said, was to increase treatment at the wastewater plants that serve the Las Vegas Valley.

Arizona water officials have not expressed concern about the outfall move. The National Park Service, which manages the Lake Mead National Recreation Area, said it had confidence in the modeling, which indicates the new outfall area would meet water quality standards ? whereas continuing to discharge all the effluent in the wash would lead to pollution problems in Las Vegas Bay.

Erik L. Orsak, environmental contaminants specialist for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, also said that pumping the effluent into a deeper portion of the lake would mean less exposure to trace chemicals for the endangered razorback sucker, a native fish that spawns at the mouth of the bay. "The middle of the basin is one of the best choices [for Mead fish] and certainly has the greatest potential for dilution," he said. Still, Orsak said he advocates more treatment at wastewater plants before the effluent reaches Mead.

But what is good for the lake's razorback suckers may not be good for the ones living below Hoover Dam in the lower Colorado, where federal officials recently launched a $626-million restoration program for native fish and plants.

"We may indeed be relocating to some degree the wildlife exposure to sites below the dam," said Timothy Gross, a research physiologist and toxicologist with the U.S. Geological Survey who has helped document trace amounts of pharmaceutical compounds in Mead fish. "Water quality downstream of the dam is likely to decline ? significantly, probably," from increasing wastewater flows and moving the outfall.

Gross and other federal researchers began studying Las Vegas Bay fish in the late 1990s, testing nonnative carp and largemouth bass as well as razorback suckers. All three species exhibited lower thyroid function. Both males and females had lower sex hormone levels, and in males the quality and motility of sperm were diminished.

The fish additionally had trace amounts of chemicals ? also found in the Las Vegas effluent and Las Vegas Bay water ? that are derived from birth control pills, antidepressants, antibacterial soap and fragrances.

"Much of what we're detecting are things that come from sewage outfalls," Gross said.

While researchers have not definitively proved the cause of the fish hormonal problems, they "in all likelihood are tied to effluent," Orsak said.

Such compounds have been detected in wastewater worldwide, and regulators are trying to figure out what, if anything, to do about them. There are no clean water standards for them, and conventional sewage treatment removes only some of the substances, many of which are endocrine disrupters.

"It seems to me most scientists agree that it is not a human health issue from a drinking-water [standpoint]," said Shane Snyder, research and development project manager for the Southern Nevada Water Authority, which supplies Mead water to the Las Vegas area.

"It's more of an ecologic, aquatic-life issue."

Snyder, who sits on a federal advisory committee examining the matter, said his latest research indicates ozone and reverse osmosis treatments can remove most if not all of the compounds from wastewater streams.

But "the cost of implementing these types of processes can be enormous," he said. "From the data I've seen, I certainly would not advocate vast amounts [of spending] for water treatment or removal of these compounds ? in Lake Mead for certain. I believe there are more important issues that public dollars can go to."

Karafa also said that while the valley's wastewater agencies can make some adjustments to improve the treatment all three plants already employ, there are limits to how much they can do without jumping to much more expensive technology that would have its own drawbacks.

Reverse osmosis, for example, would convert a significant amount of the wastewater to an unsavory brine that would have to be disposed of and ? more critically from southern Nevada's standpoint ? reduce the Las Vegas Valley's take of Colorado River water.

That's because Nevada is credited for whatever treated wastewater it puts back into Mead, meaning that in practice it can draw much more from the reservoir than its legal entitlement. Reduce the wastewater returns, and Las Vegas gets less Colorado River water.

At the Clark County Water Reclamation District, which generates a little more than half the wastewater going into Mead, Deputy General Manager Doug Drury said he is slashing the phosphorous output of his plant by fine-tuning the existing treatment process. Given that, he argues that more wastewater doesn't necessarily equal a nutrient problem for Mead or the lower Colorado.

"I don't see us being stagnant in treatment of phosphorous," he said.

"I believe we'll have to lower it and lower it."

2005-06-22T12:41:00.000-07:00

Checkered Flag at United States Grand Prix, 2005

Think motor racing in the USA and you invariably think of ovals.

You think of NASCAR - stock car silhouettes of production models turning left a few hundred times at 200mph.

Or Indy-cars; F1 lookalikes lapping the 'Brickyard' at astonishing speeds in close company, slipstreaming in packs or slamming into concrete walls in spectacular fashion.

But you don't tend to think of Formula One.

In fact the category has a long and illustrious history in the US.

From the start of the World Championship in 1950, until 1960, the fabled Indianapolis '500' counted towards the world title. Few European teams entered, however.

To compete against the Indy 'specials' of the time was too costly, and perhaps the environment itself too alien, for the likes of Ferrari, Maserati and the other great teams of the 'fifties.

So our tale begins in the year 1959, with the first United States Grand Prix, held at Sebring, one of America's fine road courses.

That race was won by Bruce McLaren driving the revolutionary Cooper-Climax, the little machine that was then in the process of revolutionising Grand Prix car design for ever.

To emphasise the importance of the Cooper it is worth noting that veteran Maurice Trintignant finished second in a sister car, and Jack Brabham fourth in another.

The revolution had truly begun, for it had the engine behind the driver!

1960 saw the US GP at Riverside, another fine road course, with victory for Stirling Moss, before the race moved in 1961 to the circuit that was to become home to the race for the next twenty years, the legendary Watkins Glen.

'The Glen', as the circuit is commonly termed, became one of the best loved venues on the calendar.

Situated a few hours north-west of New York, the undulating course with swooping curves provided a challenge for the drivers and a delight for the spectators.

Interestingly, in 1971 the circuit was re-profiled, and became one of the first in the world to be designed using computer technology.

The parameters of contemporary Grand Prix machinery were fed into the computer to ascertain suitable curvature and situation of bends! (Incidentally, the computer calculated that cars would reach 178mph at the end of the the straight; Jackie Stewarts Tyrrell did exactly that.)

Following Innes Ireland's victory in a Lotus in 1961, the roll-call of winners at The Glen reads like a biography of World Champions; Jim Clark won in '62, then again in '66 and '67; Graham Hill scored a hat-trick in '63, '64 and '65; Jackie Stewart took '68 and '72, Jochen Rindt '69 and Emmerson Fittipaldi 1970.

The talented Frenchman Francois Cevert, a protege of Stewart at Tyrrell, took the spoils in 1971, and it was his death at The Glen in practice for the '73 race (won by Ronnie Peterson) that prompted Stewart to hang up his helmet.

1974 saw victory for wily Argentine Carlos Reutemann, and '75 for World Champion elect Niki Lauda, but 1976 saw a turning point in the history of Formula One in the United States.

With the popularity of the sport growing dramatically, due in part at least to the presence on the grid of the great Mario Andretti, America gained a second Grand Prix; The Long Beach Grand prix was born.

Long Beach lent itself perfectly to the glamour of the sport, the backdrop provided by the permanently berthed ocean liner Queen Mary, a glamourous reminder of glamourous times, standing tall and proud on the skyline, dramatic and picturesque.

And the circuit itself was tremendous, fast straights tempered with typical street circuit tight hairpins providing exciting racing.

The opening race ('76) was won by the genial Swiss Clay Regazzoni in a Ferrari (and it would be at this circuit, sadly and ironically, that he suffered the injuries that have confined him to a wheelchair ever since, just a few years later).

At The Glen, later in the season, James Hunt would take another victory in his successful quest for the title. '77 saw 'local' hero Andretti sweep all before him in his Lotus at Long Beach, with Hunt again triumphant at The Glen, while '78 witnessed Reutemann, now at Ferrari, take a US clean sweep with wins at both races.

1979 was another clean sweep year, this time the property of the mercurial Gilles Villeneuve, Canada's favourite son concluding the year with victory at The Glen, having won in California earlier in the season, while 1980, where Nelson Piquet took Long Beach, saw Alan Jones victorious at the final Watkins Glen Grand Prix.

The circuit owners could not afford to update the facilities as required, and one of the best loved tracks in the history of Grand Prix racing fell by the wayside.

To help form a picture, this is from a guidebook current in the early 1970's:

"To find out how important a race here is..... take a stroll through the spectator accomodation on the evening before the race. The Glen resembles a huge pop festival, thronged with young people, students and hippies, enjoying the last warm days of the year...."

And so to the 1980's, the decade where Formula One came into its own as a commercial sport. Money became the byword, hence F1 in the US went from the sublime of Long Beach, the season opener in '81 where Jones carried on as he left off, to the frankly ridiculous - the Las Vegas Grand Prix.

This 'circuit', actually a series of tight corners marked out by barriers and white lines in the car park (yes, honestly) of the Caesers Palace casino, ranks as arguably the most ridiculous venue to have hosted a World Championship event.

That it actually ran for two years is beyond belief. The drivers hated it, the spectators failed to show, and the 'racing' was non existent. For the record, Jones won in '81, Michele Alboreto in '82.

Long Beach '82 saw Niki Lauda, returning with McLaren after a two year absence, take the chequered flag, while the 1983 race saw one of the most unexpected performances of all time when the McLarens of John Watson and Niki Lauda, having qualified on the back two rows of the grid, came through the field to finish first and second.

Sadly, this was to be the final GP for Long Beach. (The circuit, in a modified form, was resurrected some years later for the Indy-car series.)

Joining the calendar in 1983 was the city of Detroit; Motor City. This street circuit, typically tight and slow, was a vast improvement on the Las Vegas effort, and would become the sole US GP from 1985. Alboreto, something of a US street circuit specialist, won in '83, providing Ken Tyrrell with the last victory his esteemed marque would ever attain.

The '84 Detroit race was won by Piquet, and joining it in a back-to-back US GP double came the Dallas GP. Mercifully short lived (this would be the only running), the race was won by Keke Rosberg, the canny Finn helped by an ice-cooled skull cap he had acquired in order to combat the searing heat.

Needless to say, Keke appeared somewhat bemused to be presented with the winners trophy by the actress who played the part of 'Sue-Ellen' in the popular TV series named after the host city. (And to think, now we have the King of Spain..)

Rosberg triumphed in 'Motor City' in 1985, before the US race became something of an Ayrton Senna benefit. The great Brazillian won the next three Detroit Grands Prix, before the circus abandoned the city in favour of a difficult round-the-streets affair in Phoenix, Arizona.

Here, Alain Prost spoiled Ayrton's party in 1989, with Senna claiming the 1990 and '91 events. Then, without fanfare, the United States Grand Prix was dropped from the calendar.

Falling interest was officially to blame (in fact, the latter running of the Phoenix event drew a smaller crowd than an Ostrich race run locally the same day), along with a lack of home drivers and an upsurge in profile for the 'domestic' Indy-car series.

In hindsight, perhaps a failure to settle in a permanent home, such as The Glen had provided for those earlier glorious twenty years, added to the public indifference to the fixture.

The remedy, in fact, was obvious, but it was to be the best part of a decade before a United Stated Grand Prix would once again be a part of the show.

And so the wheel turned full circle, and we found ourselves, in the year 2000, back at the hallowed ground that is the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

This arena can easily justify the claim to be the most famous racing circuit in the world. For almost a whole century men have raced cars of some kind around the magnificent 'oval', testing skills untested anywhere else, facing challenges like the steep banking and the stupendously high average speeds, pushing the limits as far as one can go.

But here was something different; Formula One, in all its colourful and commercial glory, was finally coming to rest at what has to be its spiritual United States home.

The circuit itself is impressive, with a new 'infield' built inside the great circuit itself, utilising one of the wonderful banked corners to provide the longest full-throttle experience in a modern F1 car in the world today.

And the fans come too, the sport having undergone something of a resurrection in recent years, perhaps thanks to the split in the ranks that tore Indy-car racing into two separate factions a few years ago.

The first year of running produced an apt result; Michael Schumacher, current king of F1, winning in style.

2001 saw a great race, the soon to be retired Mika Hakkinen taking a deserved and popular victory, a far cry from the acrimony of the following year, where Ferrari attempts to 'stage manage' a dead heat resulted in a narrow victory for Rubens Barrichello, the whole affair leaving an unpleasant taste so soon after the farce in Austria earlier in the season.

2003 was another Schumacher benefit, as was 2004, and so to the present.

It is heartening that Formula One appears, finally, to have settled at Indianapolis, for this is where it belongs and, in fact, where it has always belonged.

The great Bill Vukovich, one of the finest 'Indy' drivers of US lore, twice winner of the '500' during the 1950's (and, therefore, two times Grand Prix winner) would surely approve of the arrival of the World Championship at his beloved stalking ground.

It was, after all, the arrival here of the Lotus and Cooper rear-engined marvels during the 1960's that proved to the Indianapolis specialists that rear-engined was the way to go, moving the trend away from the magnificent Offenhauser front-engined beasts that had henceforth dominated America's Great Race.

The final word goes to Jim Clark, Scottish sheep-farmer extraordinaire, who ventured 'across the pond' with a Lotus to take on the 'Indy' boys in 1962, and finished an impressive, some say unlucky, second. Here, he is talking with the '500' in mind, but the sentiment is the same:

"....the golden reward offered at Indianapolis, and to me Indianapolis is almost indescribable. It is one big holiday fair and motor race rolled into one, a national institution with the circuit almost a shrine. I was totally unprepared for it and, as it happened, Indianapolis was totally unprepared for me."

Woe betide those who may be unprepared now

2005-06-22T12:35:00.000-07:00

Jean Todt and Max Mosley

Todt comments on Indianapolis
Racing series F1
Date 2005-06-20

After Sunday's controversial United States Grand Prix at Indianapolis, Jean Todt clarified Ferrari's position in the run-up to the situation which led to 14 Michelin runners peeling off into the pits at the end of the parade lap, taking no further part in the race. But first Todt admitted that "I feel sorry about what happened, but I mainly feel sorry for all the supporters who were here, for the American supporters, for the TV viewers but it was not our decision."

The reason why the Michelin runners took no part in the race was because they had unsuitable tyres on which they were recommended not to race. Compromises were sought from various sources to let the Michelin runners race, even for no points, but no solution was found.

At one point, a chicane was suggested in the quick banked corner at the end of the lap, where one of the Michelin tyre failures took place during practice. Todt explained that he was not consulted on this.

"We were never involved with those discussions," said Todt. "Never involved. We were never asked about that. Whether we would have agreed or not is another question, and I tell you right now, to be sincere, we would not have agreed, but we were never asked about that. But is it serious to decide to put in a chicane half an hour without nobody testing it? It's ridiculous."

Todt did say that Bernie Ecclestone had talked to him about "different proposals, including a chicane, but again, it's a matter of the FIA, it's not a matter of the commercial rights holder (Ecclestone's position). And I said that for me it was up to the FIA to decide."

Continuing to explain his position, Todt pointed out that "number one, it's an FIA decision. Number two, if something happened on the other side; if, for example, we don't have enough grip for qualifying and we ask for three laps because we have good grip after the third lap, or if we ask for a chicane because we feel it would be safer for our tyres, I think everybody would laugh at us. So you just have to be prepared to react to a situation.

"You have two sets of tyres which you chose from, one normally is soft, the other one is hard and then you make your choice. I feel sorry for those who could not compete, but I feel more sorry, again, for the supporters."

Todt then explained the disadvantages of the sudden installation of a chicane. "If we knew beforehand that there would be a chicane, we would have come prepared for a chicane. We would come with different tyres, we would have a different set-up on the car, we would have different gear ratios.

"Honestly, why should we compromise? We try to do a good job with Bridgestone, and we did not do a very good job with Bridgestone since the beginning of the year. We arrive, we are in a situation where we see from Friday that we are competitive, we don't have any problem with tyres so for us it's an opportunity."

There was even a suggestion that the Michelin teams would compete for no points if a chicane was installed. But Todt's reply was "would we have competed for no points? I say no. If this race would have been a race without points which cannot be, it would have been out of the FIA standard, we would not have started."

Asked what sort of harm the boycott had done the image of Formula One, Todt replied "very bad. I wish we could come back to the States because it's a very important country, it's now our number one market, the States, and for so many years Bernie has tried to implement something in the States. Unfortunately, it was not the best demonstration today. It has been a hard hit for Formula One today."

Todt explained that the teams had been warned about pushing the tyre situation to the limit. "We all got a letter two weeks ago warning us after the Monte Carlo race and after Nurburgring when Raikkonen had his problem, that we had to pay special attention to the tyres, the pressures, about all that, and it's something we thought could happen for a while."

Asked under what circumstances he would you have been willing to race with the Michelin runners, Todt said "I would say three options. One, they could have changed their tyres. Two, they would have to compromise in this specific corner. And three, they could have used the pit lane. If these cars cannot take this corner, what can I do? You would have had a race."
U.S. Grand Prix 2005. Indianapolis, Indiana

2005-06-22T12:25:00.000-07:00

FIA statement on US GP
Racing series F1
Date 2005-06-20

2005 UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX

Formula One is a sporting contest. It must operate to clear rules. These cannot be negotiated each time a competitor brings the wrong equipment to a race.

At Indianapolis we were told by Michelin that their tyres would be unsafe unless their cars were slowed in the main corner. We understood and among other suggestions offered to help them by monitoring speeds and penalising any excess. However, the Michelin teams refused to agree unless the Bridgestone runners were slowed by the same amount. They suggested a chicane.

The Michelin teams seemed unable to understand that this would have been grossly unfair as well as contrary to the rules. The Bridgestone teams had suitable tyres. They did not need to slow down. The Michelin teams' lack of speed through turn 13 would have been a direct result of inferior equipment, as often happens in Formula One. It must also be remembered that the FIA wrote to all of the teams and both tyre manufacturers on June 1, 2005, to emphasise that "tyres should be built to be reliable under all circumstances" (see correspondence attached).

A chicane would have forced all cars, including those with tyres optimised for high-speed, to run on a circuit whose characteristics had changed fundamentally -- from ultra-high speed (because of turn 13) to very slow and twisting. It would also have involved changing the circuit without following any of the modern safety procedures, possibly with implications for the cars and their brakes. It is not difficult to imagine the reaction of an American court had there been an accident (whatever its cause) with the FIA having to admit it had failed to follow its own rules and safety procedures.

The reason for this debacle is clear. Each team is allowed to bring two types of tyre: one an on-the-limit potential race winner, the other a back-up which, although slower, is absolutely reliable. Apparently, none of the Michelin teams brought a back-up to Indianapolis. They subsequently announced they were flying in new tyres from France but then claimed that these too were unsafe.

What about the American fans? What about Formula One fans world-wide? Rather than boycott the race the Michelin teams should have agreed to run at reduced speed in turn 13. The rules would have been kept, they would have earned Championship points and the fans would have had a race. As it is, by refusing to run unless the FIA broke the rules and handicapped the Bridgestone runners, they have damaged themselves and the sport.

It should also be made clear that Formula One Management and Indianapolis Motor Speedway, as commercial entities, can have no role in the enforcement of the rules.

-fia-

Discuss this article in the Motorsport.com Forums channel: F1

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'Grand Week' activities lead up to US GP

2005-06-22T12:14:00.000-07:00

Start: Michael Schumacher takes the lead
F1 > United States GP, 2005-06-19 (Indianapolis Motor Speedway): Sunday race

2005-06-22T12:09:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE: BERNIE ECCLESTONE
Name: Bernie Ecclestone
Nationality: Great Britain

Bernie Ecclestone,Born in Ipswich in Suffolk, Ecclestone was the son of a trawler captain and he spent his childhood in the town of Wangford, near Southwold. The family then moved to Bexleyheath in southeast London and Ecclestone left school at 16 and went to work at the local gasworks where his father had a friend who was in charge of the chemical laboratory. He was employed as an assistant there.

His passion was motorcycle scrambling and he began competing in the immediate postwar era. As machinery was scarce he began buying and selling motorcycle spare parts, doing the business during his lunch break. He built up the spares business and then went into business with Fred Compton to form the Compton & Ecclestone motorcycle dealership. He later bought out Crompton and built the business into one of Britain's biggest motorcycle dealers. In 1949 he tried his hand a four-wheeled racing in the 500cc Formula 3 series but after a big accident at Brands Hatch, in which he ended up hitting a car in the car park behind Paddock Hill Bend, he decided to concentrate on business which grew to include the Weekend Car Auctions firm (which he eventually sold to British Car Auctions), loan financing and property.

In 1957 Ecclestone returned to the sport as manager of Welsh racing driver Stuart Lewis-Evans. He bought the F1 Connaught team and ran the cars for Lewis-Evans, Roy Salvadori, Archie Scott-Brown and Ivor Bueb. He even tried to qualify one of the cars himself at Monaco in 1958.

At the end of that year Lewis-Evans, who was by then driving a Vanwall, suffered serious burns when his engine blew up during the Moroccan GP and he later died as a result. Ecclestone abandoned the sport again but in the early 1960s his friendship with Salvadori, who was by then running the Cooper team, led to a meeting with Jochen Rindt. Ecclestone became Rindt's manager and business partner and in 1968 and 1969 he was involved in running the Lotus Formula 2 factory team which was running Rindt and Graham Hill.

In September 1970 Rindt was on his way to winning the World Championship for Lotus when he was killed in an accident at Monza. He became posthumous World Champion. Ecclestone again quit the sport but at the start of 1972 he decided to buy the Brabham team from Ron Tauranac and set about turning it into a winning force. In an effort to get the sport more organized he was one of the founders of the Formula 1 Constructors Association in 1974, along with Colin Chapman, Teddy Mayer, Max Mosley, Ken Tyrrell and Frank Williams. He led the team owners in a battle with the FIA in 1975 for a new system of entries and appearance money being paid to all the teams. In 1976 the teams won the battle and there began to be trouble over the sale of TV rights. In January 1978 Ecclestone became chief executive of FOCA with Mosley as his legal advisor and a new battle began with the FIA's new affiliate FISA which was the brainchild of Frenchman Jean-Marie Balestre. The battle for the commercial control of the sport continued until March 1981 when the Concorde Agreement gave FOCA the right to negotiate TV contracts. That year Brabham won the World Championship with Nelson Piquet driving. There would be a second victory in 1983 with BMW engines.

At the end of the first Concorde Agreement in 1987 Ecclestone became the FIA Vice-President in charge of Promotional Affairs and began to spend less time on Brabham. At the end of that year the team lost its sponsorship and Ecclestone decided to take a year out of racing. He sold the team to Alfa Romeo in preparation for the new Procar Championship. When the new series failed to get off the ground Alfa Romeo had no use for the team and so it was sold to a Swiss businessman Joachim Luhti.

The sale of the F1 TV rights originally belonged to all the teams but in the early days the business was risky and not very profitable. Ecclestone gradually distanced himself from the other team owners and eventually they allowed him to establish Formula One Promotions and Administration to manage the rights for them. TV revenues were split with 47% going to the teams, 30% to the FIA and 23% to FOPA. FOPA, however, received all the fees paid by promoters. In exchange for this FOPA paid prize money to the teams.

In 1995 the FIA decided to grant the commercial rights to F1 to Formula One Management for a period of 14 years, in exchange for an annual payment from Ecclestone. The F1 teams were upset as they found that they had lost the rights. McLaren, Williams and Tyrrell refused to sign the new 1997 Concorde Agreement but the other eighth teams backed down.Eventually an agreement was reached for a 10-year deal with the teams and a 15-year deal with the FIA. Once this has been agreed Ecclestone began to plan for the flotation of his company.

The European Commission began an investigation into the Formula 1 business and eventually this led to the flotation being cancelled and in 1999 Ecclestone issued a $1.4bn Eurobond, secured on the future profits of the company. Later that year he sold 12.5% of the business to the venture capitalist company Morgan Grenfell Private Equity for $325m. In February 2000 sold another 37.5% to the San Francisco investment company Hellman & Friedman for $725.5m. These two then combined their shares and sold them to Thomas Haffa of EM.TV in exchange for $1.65bn in cash and shares.

When EM.TV ran into trouble the shares passed to Leo Kirch who acquired another 25% of the business leaving the Ecclestone Family with only 25% of the business but despite heart surgery in June 1999 Ecclestone remains firmly in charge of F1.

2005-06-22T12:07:00.000-07:00

JUAN PABLO MONTOYA. Mercedes McLaren .Formula 1 Grand Prix, 2004.

2005-06-22T11:48:00.000-07:00

Ferrari Schumacher 2004

2005-06-22T11:46:00.000-07:00

BAR RACING

2005-06-22T11:42:00.000-07:00

F1 begins to count the cost of its darkest hour

20/06/05

After the shame of the day before, F1 woke on Monday to begin counting the cost of what is being described as 'the most catastrophic public relations disaster in the 56-year history of the official world championship.' Or, to put it another way, F1's darkest hour.

The sight of 14 F1 cars pulling off the track at the end of the formation lap for the U.S GP and returning to the Indianapolis pits instead of racing is already being regarded as the death knell of the sport in the American market.

'Simply stated, this race is done. Forget what the contract says about future events,' read the Indianapolis Star?s obituary.

Tellingly, Speedway President Joie Chitwood immediately announced that the circuit held no commitment to invite F1 back in 2006.

"We're as much a victim of what transpired today as the fans are," he said. "Mr. Ecclestone is aware of our position and our unhappiness today."

Even Bernie, desperate to break the American market, admitted the sport's future on the other side of the Atlantic is bleak.

"I'm furious at the stupidity of it all. There should have been a compromise but we could not get one. I tried a million things and thought that if we could get them on the grid we were halfway there. But it did not happen," he complained. "We were just starting to build a great image in America on TV and with the fans. All of that has gone out of the window."

Such sombre realisation spread as far as the drivers.

"I find it hard to put into words how damaging this is for F1. It throws into doubt the future of the race in US," admitted David Coulthard. "Even if we do come back, half the crowd in the stands won't."

"It is a disaster for Formula One in the United States," added Nick Heidfeld.

The first bills for F1's most shameful episode are expected to be issued in the next few hours.

'Sponsors will be lining up to claim millions in compensation from the teams that did not run, while Bernie Ecclestone, the sport's ringmaster, could also be liable to pay huge compensation,' reported The Times.

The scene of this shameful debacle, dare F1 forget, was the most ligitous nation on the planet.

Although there was no immediate announcement that refunds would or would not be issued, on Sunday night a notice on the front door of the Speedway's administration building indicated more information about refunds would be available on Monday.

With Bernie conceding "they've been cheated", F1 will be under huge pressure, both moral and legal, to issue full refunds to all the Indy spectators on Sunday.

Michelin, however, are likely to bear the immediate brunt of F1's shame.

The FIA are expected to charge the French tyre manufacturers, whose admission that their rubber was unsafe to use at Indy precipitated Sunday's shambles, with bringing the sport into disrepute this week.

The withering response of Charlie Whiting, the FIA's race director, to Michelin?s request for a chicane to be introduced, in which he scorned their failure to supply "correct tyres", is likely to be a mere taster of the FIA's response.

'We are very surprised that this difficulty has arisen,' he continued. 'As you know, each team is allowed to bring two different types of tyre to an event so as to ensure that a back-up (usually of lower performance) is available should problems occur. It is hard to understand why you have not supplied your teams with such a tyre given your years of experience at Indianapolis.

'That the teams you supply are not in possession of such a tyre will also be a matter for the FIA to consider in due course under Article 151c of the International Sporting Code.'

Under the terms of Article 151C, penalties can be applied for "any fraudulent conduct or any act prejudicial to any competition or to the sport in general".

Michelin's apparent incompetence could not be worst timed, coming just days after the FIA published proposals to limit tyre supply to just one organisation for 2008 and beyond.

Moreover, 'Michelin's failure to supply its teams with safe and durable tyres less than two weeks after it was warned by the FIA not to sacrifice safety for performance [after Kimi Raikkonen's tyre failure at the Nurburgring] could force the French tyre company's withdrawal from the sport,' noted The Guardian.

However, in mitigation, Michelin publicly announced their mistake nearly 48 hours before the grand prix began.

That the sport could then not reach a compromise for the sake of its reputation and image damns those far beyond the confines of Michelin.

"The bottom line is Michelin made a mistake. But after that the FIA had it in their hands to find a solution and ensure we all raced out there. The most important people, the fans, have been forgotten in all of this," noted Coulthard.

Jacques Villeneuve, meanwhile, blamed Ferrari for their failure to agree to the introduction of a chicane: ?We could have raced with a chicane, if a chicane had been put before the banking, but Ferrari didn't accept."

Michael Schumacher's comment, "I don't know what Michelin's problem is, but this wasn't our problem," spoke volumes about Ferrari's intransigence ahead of F1's race of shame.

F1's blame game is set to explode in the coming days but the damage has already been done. On Sunday this was a sport that imploded.

The cost, which will perhaps never be fully appreciated, will be borne by all those shamed by their association to this reprehensible debacle

2005-06-22T11:38:00.000-07:00

Indy fans show the thumb down
F1 > United States GP, 2005-06-19 (Indianapolis Motor Speedway): Sunday race

Formula farce nears end of road
By Andrew Benson
Motorsport editor

Formula One has made itself look stupid on a number of occasions in recent years - but the fiasco that was the 2005 United States Grand Prix took it to a new low.
Veteran British driver David Coulthard - long a beacon of sense in a sport flooded with people with an over-inflated sense of their own importance - cut to the heart of the issue.

"I have no words to describe how damaging this is for F1. I am sick in the stomach to be part of this," the Scot told BBC Radio Five Live after seven of the 10 teams pulled out of the race because Michelin could not guarantee the safety of its tyres.

"That mature adults were not able to put on a show for everybody is very sad."

It is maturity - or the lack of it - where F1's problem lies, and not just in this one case.

Too many of the sport's key decision-makers cannot see the bigger picture because they are blinkered by their attachment to the sport's increasingly labyrinthine rules or blinded by petty political rivalries.

Of course, everyone involved had a valid point of view at Indianapolis on Sunday.

Ferrari and their tyre supplier Bridgestone were, for example, quite right to ask why they should be penalised for Michelin's error - a mistake that had opened the door to their first win in an unusually poor season for the Italian team.
Any number of solutions were possible, even if all of them had their inherent problems.

But what was needed was someone who could cut through the fog of self-interest and find a solution to staging a race.

And it is worrying for the entire future of the sport - let alone its future in America - that no-one could do that on Sunday.

In the past, that man would have been F1 impresario Bernie Ecclestone.

But perhaps his decision to leap into bed with Ferrari in the political row that threatens to tear the sport apart has terminally harmed his position as F1's deal-maker extraordinaire.

It is difficult not to view the problems at Indianapolis as tied up in that row.

Seven teams and five of the sport's car manufacturers have threatened to set up a rival championship in 2008 because they want a greater say in F1's future and a bigger cut of its finances.

Crucially, they have also lost faith in the impartiality of FIA president Max Mosley, a view that will not have been erased by his organisation's intransigent response to Sunday's crisis.
In that sense, the US Grand Prix offered a haunting view of F1's future.

If no compromise is reached, then it will not have been the last Grand Prix race involving Ferrari and a bunch of also-rans.

For their own sake as much as that of the sport's fans, F1's bosses need to put aside their differences and bang their heads together until they come up with a solution.

If they fail, a sport steeped in more than a century's worth of history could well be consigned to it.

REACTION TO THE US GP FARCE

"We have a tyre which is quicker. We didn't use that because we knew what is going to face us here. I'm not saying the others purposely chose something wrong, but whatever it is, it is their problem and not our problem."
Michael Schumacher, F1 world champion

"I don't know what more the Michelin teams could have done to get a race on safely. We offered so many options and were open to ideas. We offered to let the Bridgestone runners start at the front, we offered everything but sadly for the fans it did not happen."
Martin Whitmarsh, managing director McLaren-Mercedes

"It seems the Michelin teams failed to bring a back-up tyre as usual with them to Indianapolis. The FIA offered them options which would have allowed them to compete safely within the limitations of their tyres. For some reason they chose not to accept those options."
Max Mosley, FIA president

"The bottom line is that Michelin screwed up, but after that the FIA had in their hands the ability to make sure that a race took place."
David Coulthard, Red Bull F1 driver

"On a day that called for strong governance, innovation and compromise, or at least a decent back-up plan, self-interest and intransigence ruled."
David Tremayne, the Independent

"I don't see how even the most ardent Mosley haters can blame the FIA. This is all Michelin's fault."
"Optimistic Dave", BBC message board

If Michelin can't make a safe tyre, how on earth is that the FIA's fault?
From Red Shark

"If it is the only way to be rid of Mosley, Whiting and Ecclestone, then so be it. They are killing the sport. I hope the big guns - Mercedes, Honda, Renault and BMW - have the courage to bring them to justice and rejuvenate the sport we love."
Frank, BBC messageboard
"I am furious with the stupidity. There should have been a compromise. I tried a million things, but the teams had other ideas."
Bernie Ecclestone, F1 commercial boss

"Bernie Ecclestone and Max Mosley between them have presided over a vertiginous decline in F1's credibility on and off the track. So much time has been spent on out-smarting and wrong-footing opponents that the sport no longer has a basis of trust on which to runs its affairs, with consequences that were all too apparent in the failure to resolve yesterday's difficulty."
Richard Williams, the Guardian

"In front of their biggest audience of the year on prime-time television, self-interest again shattered one of F1's finest seasons."
Bob McKenzie, Daily Express

"The contract in the US is up next year. Whether the people here will want to renew it is another thing. The governing body has to be open to some kind of compromise when faced with unique or unusual situations of this kind."
Jackie Stewart, three-time F1 world champion

"Your teams have the choice of running more slowly in turn 12/13, running a tyre not used in qualifying (which would attract a penalty) or repeatedly changing a tyre (subject to valid safety reasons). It is for them to decide. We have nothing to add."
Charlie Whiting, F1 race director

Story from BBC SPORT:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/sport2/hi/motorsport/formula_one/4110170.stm

2005-06-21T12:03:00.000-07:00

2005-06-21T12:02:00.000-07:00

2005-06-18T15:23:00.000-07:00

Jarno Trulli
F1 > United States GP, 2005-06-16 (Indianapolis Motor Speedway): Thursday

Trulli takes Toyota's first F1 pole at US GP
Racing series F1
Date 2005-06-18 (Indianapolis)

By Anna Boffin - Motorsport.com

The troubles for Toyota went away this afternoon in qualifying for the sixth US Grand Prix held on the hallowed grounds of Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Jarno Trulli, the tenth driver to take timed laps secured pole position with his tour of 1:10.625.
Vital to Trulli's fast lap was his superiority in the first and third sectors, where he beat all 19 competitors. The Italian secured Toyota's first pole in its fourth year of F1 competition. "It's been a day of mixed emotions for the whole Toyota team and that makes this result all the sweeter.

"It's been a strange day and I didn't do many laps in practice," Trulli noted, "but I just had to stay calm and do my work despite the limited mileage. Obviously the tires remain a big concern for the race so we hope we can sort this problem out for tomorrow."

The final driver out of the pits, Kimi Raikkonen tried, but was unable to match Trulli and the McLaren driver settled for second with his lap of 1:10.694, only 0.069 seconds in arrears. Raikkonen was best in sector 2. Those two were the sole drivers under one minute, 11 seconds on the 2.605- mile circuit.

Jenson Button qualified just before Trulli and snared third for BAR-Honda at 1:11.277. Button lost time with a bit too much understeer; "It felt like I had very low grip," he explained. A little worried about the tire situation, Button nonetheless found "long distance balance has been very good through practice today."

Giancarlo Fisichella, fourth out of the pits to take a timed lap earned fourth for the Renault team at 1:11.29, citing improved balance for his quickness this afternoon. "I feel more comfortable attacking the corners and the handling is much more consistent." Pleased with his performance after being forced to run early in the session, "We have worked a lot to get the car strong for the race and I am confident we can be competitive again tomorrow."

All the cheers from the stands couldn't help three-time USGP winner Michael Schumacher, who fell behind on all three sectors and will bring the Ferrari to the lights in fifth place after lapping at 1:11.369. The 7-tiome World Champion was "quite happy with my performance and, actually fifth is better than fourth on this grid as the other side is dirtier," he confirmed. "I am hopeful of finishing on podium," Schumacher said, musing that he believed he might have a better opportunity due to his fuel load.

Fisi's Renault teammate Fernando Alonso qualified just after Fisichella but still couldn't beat his speed, settling for sixth at 1:11.380. Like the balance of the Michelin runners Alonso is worried but "we are confident that what Michelin recommended now about pressures should solve the problem. Obviously we sacrifice a little bit of performance to be safe."

Rubens Barrichello's 1:11.431 lap was quite ragged, relegating the Brazilian to seventh grid spot, a far cry from his pole position here last June. One would think the Brazilian would be frustrated with his lap but he demurred: "We understand that we're not as fast as our competitors in qualifying but we're very fast in the race. I had some small problems under braking but apart from that the car was good," he said.

Takuma Sato looked strong in both his first and second sectors but fell behind in sector #3 and settled for eighth with a lap of 1:11.497 in the second BAR-Honda, admitting he struggled a little bit. "We completed two different setups this morning and unfortunately I had to change everything. It was the very first try on the setup so it was a bit difficult," Sato explained.

The Williams BMW team had great hopes for Mark Webber after his fifth place finish in Montreal but the Aussie managed 1:11.527, good for ninth grid slot. He thought the lap was "reasonable and I could not have got much more out of it." Having gone through similar tire problems in endurance racing at Le Mans, Webber feels secure Michelin "will find a good solution in order to guarantee safety and a good race for everyone."

There was a similar situation for Felipe Massa who finished fourth in Canada with the Sauber Petronas, but Massa ran 1:11.555 and will take tenth on the grid and is actually "pretty happy to be starting in the top ten. My lap was okay, no mistakes, but I was struggling just a little bit in the final sector as I lost some grip. We can fight for points from here," the Brazilian stated.

Second to take a flying lap (after Ricardo Zonta, subbing for Ralf Schumacher), Juan Pablo Montoya was easily off the pace with his McLaren and will line up 11th after turning 1:11.681. The Colombian knew his car was good after being quicker than his teammate in two sessions, but the penalty from Canada foisted an early qualifying slot upon him.

"You go out to qualify when the track is dirty, and pick up all the dirt and you're just done," Montoya declared. "I think we have a really fast race car but, from where I'm starting I'm pretty screwed, to be honest."

It was obvious that either the track slowed or the higher tire pressures mandated by Michelin caused many teams' setups to go astray, but that wasn't the case with Jacques Villeneuve, whose lap of 1:11.691 gave him 12th place. The former Indy 500 and F1 champion wasn't too dismayed by his lap 'but it wasn't quite as fast as I wanted. I guess I wasn't aggressive enough," Villeneuve said.

Returning to competition after more than six months as a tester, Ricardo Zonta was first to take a timed lap and his rust showed through with a tour of 1:11.754; perhaps he was being particularly careful in time trials, settling for 13th? "Those were certainly not the ideal circumstances for my first qualifying run in eight months. Going out first is hard because that's when the track is most slippery and I found myself sliding quite a lot." Still, Zonta is happy "to have another chance to race."

The Red Bull drivers' setups surely were marred by the change in tire pressures; Christian Klien starts 14th while David Coulthard ended up 16th. For Klien, the change in pressures "didn't affect things too much so I was quite happy. I think the higher tire pressure might result in some oversteer (during the race) so we have to find a solution for that."

His more experienced teammate "lost a little balance in the car since yesterday after altering tire pressure." Coulthard's lap wasn't going poorly until he got to the back straight entering turn 8. "I lost control of the back end and quite a lot of time. I've been prepared for a tricky weekend," and he's surely got a tricky weekend to deal with.

The meat in that Red Bull sandwich is Nick Heidfeld, the Williams BMW shoe lining up 15th. Not pleased with his lap one bit, the German found his car "was quite difficult to drive because there was very low grip. It was a lot better yesterday, but this morning we struggled and again the same thing happened in qualifying."

Tiago Monteiro was best of the Jordan drivers, the Portuguese taking 17th grid spot and noting his lap was "very good and clean so I am very happy as I pushed really hard to make a good time here."

Christian Albers took 18th in the first of the Minardi entries and found his lap "reasonable. We'll have to see what happens tomorrow with strategy and with the big story of the weekend concerning tires."

Narain Karthikeyan holds 19th in the second Jordan, finding the early going tough on a dusty track. Peter Friesacher is the caboose of the 20-car F1 grid in the second Minardi and thought his lap "not bad, even if there was a little bit of understeer."

As the FIA has eliminated any warmup for the Formula one cars this year, no one has any idea whether the Michelin teams' pressure adjustments and setup changes will aid or harm their chances once the 73-lap contest gets underway at 1PM EST.

Judging from driver comments, a paddock's worth of concern remains about the Michelin tire problem despite the fact that only one team was affected.

Michelin staff intend to study data provided by their teams throughout the evening as they wait for the different tire compound to be air-shipped from Clermont-Ferrand. "In terms of pure performance, it is clear that our tires are well suited to the Indianapolis circuit and it very gratifying to see four different Michelin chassis filling the first two rows of the grid," stated Pierre Dupasquier, Michelin motorsport director.

"Following yesterday's incidents, however, we still have work to complete before the start of the race for many reasons. Whatever happens," he said, "I can assure you that like the other participants in motorsport Michelin will always propose a product respecting the needs of total security and independent of any rules."

Despite trying to duplicate the incidents from Friday practice on many different occasions, Michelin have been unable to do so. "As yet we have not been able to understand the reason leading to yesterday's sudden tire-pressure drop on the two Toyotas," admitted Nick Shorrock, director of Michelin F1 activities.

"Using the latest data available we continue to direct our teams in the usage of our products so that drivers could participate safely in today's free practice and qualification sessions," Shorrock continued. The manufacturer said it will appeal to the FIA for a change of rubber in tomorrow's race should investigations prove the swap would make for safer competition, but certainly wants to be circumspect in making such suggestions.

Mandated amendments to setups between yesterday and today put foul to many pre-qualifying plans and could easily mean unusual characters at the front of the sixth annual US Grand Prix held at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, a difficult track to prepare for under the best of circumstances

2005-06-18T13:52:00.000-07:00

Hearts and Stripes

2005-06-18T13:25:00.000-07:00

Love

2005-06-18T13:24:00.000-07:00

Four Aces

2005-06-18T12:53:00.000-07:00

June 17, 2005
Turn On, Tune In, Veg Out
By NEAL STEPHENSON
Seattle

IN the spring of 1977, some friends and I made a 40-mile pilgrimage to the biggest and fanciest movie theater in Iowa so we could watch a new science fiction movie called "Star Wars." Expecting long lines, we got there early, and found the place deserted.

As we sat on the sidewalk waiting for the box office to open, others like us drifted in from the towns, farms and colleges of central Iowa and queued up behind. When the curtain in front of the big Cinerama screen finally parted, the fanfare sounded and the famous opening crawl appeared against a backdrop of stars, there were still some empty seats. "Star Wars" wasn't famous yet. The only people who had heard about it were what are now called geeks.

Twenty-eight years later, the vast corpus of "Star Wars" movies, novels, games and merchandise still has much to say about geeks - and also about a society that loves them, hates them and depends upon them.

In the opening sequence of the new Star Wars movie, "Episode III: Revenge of the Sith," two Jedi knights fight their way through an enemy starship to rescue a hostage. Ever since I saw the movie, I have been annoying friends with a trivia question: "Who is the enemy? What organization owns this vessel?"

We ought to know. In 1977, we all knew who owned the Death Star (the Empire) and who owned the Millennium Falcon (Han Solo). But when I ask my question about the new film, everyone reacts in the same way: with a sudden intake of breath and a sideways dart of the eyes, followed by lengthy cogitation. Some confess that they have no idea. Others think out loud for a while, developing and rejecting various theories. Only a few have come up with the right answer.

One hyperverbal friend was able to spit it out because he had read and memorized the opening crawl. Another, a hard-core science fiction fan, had been boning up on supplemental materials: "Clone Wars," an animated TV series consisting of "epic adventures that bridge the story arc between 'Episode II: Attack of the Clones' and 'Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.' "

If you have watched these cartoons - or if you've enjoyed some of the half-dozen "Clone Wars" novels, flipped through the graphic novels, read the short stories or played the video game - you will know that the battle cruiser in question is owned by the New Droid Army of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, which is backed by the Trade Federation, a commercial guild that is peeved about taxation of trade routes.

And that is not the only aspect of "Episode III" that you will see in a different light. If you watch the movie without doing the prep work, General Grievous - who is supposed to be one of the most formidable bad guys in the entire "Star Wars" cycle - will seem like something that just fell out of a Happy Meal.

Likewise, many have been underwhelmed by the performance of Hayden Christensen, who plays Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader. Only if you've seen the "Clone Wars" cartoons will you understand that Anakin is a seriously damaged veteran, a poster child for post-traumatic stress disorder. But since none of that background is actually supplied by the Episode III script, Mr. Christensen has been given an impossible acting task. He's trying to swim in air.

In sum, very little of the new film makes sense, taken as a freestanding narrative. What's interesting about this is how little it matters. Millions of people are happily spending their money to watch a movie they don't understand. What gives?

Modern English has given us two terms we need to explain this phenomenon: "geeking out" and "vegging out." To geek out on something means to immerse yourself in its details to an extent that is distinctly abnormal - and to have a good time doing it. To veg out, by contrast, means to enter a passive state and allow sounds and images to wash over you without troubling yourself too much about what it all means.

In corporate-speak, there is a related term used when someone has committed the faux pas of geeking out during a meeting. "Let's take this offline," someone will suggest, when the PowerPoint slides grow dark with words. Literally, it means, "I look forward to geeking out on this topic - later." But really it's a polite synonym for "shut up already!"

The first "Star Wars" movie 28 years ago was distinguished by healthy interplay between veg and geek scenes. In the climactic sequence, where rebel fighters attacked the Death Star, we repeatedly cut away from the dogfights and strafing runs - the purest kind of vegging-out material - to hushed command bunkers where people stood around pondering computer displays, geeking out on the strategic progress of the battle.

All such content - as well as the long, beautiful, uncluttered shots of desert, sky, jungle and mountain that filled the early episodes - was banished in the first of the prequels ("Episode I: The Phantom Menace," 1999). In the 16 years that separated it from the initial trilogy, a new universe of ancillary media had come into existence. These had made it possible to take the geek material offline so that the movies could consist of pure, uncut veg-out content, steeped in day-care-center ambience. These newer films don't even pretend to tell the whole story; they are akin to PowerPoint presentations that summarize the main bullet points from a much more comprehensive body of work developed by and for a geek subculture.

"Concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Trust your instincts," says a Jedi to the young Anakin in Episode I, immediately before a pod race in which Anakin is likely to get killed. It is distinctly odd counsel coming from a member of the Jedi order, the geekiest people in the universe: they have beards and ponytails, they dress in army blankets, they are expert fighter pilots, they build their own laser swords from scratch.

And (as is made clear in the "Clone Wars" novels) the masses and the elites both claim to admire them, but actually fear and loathe them because they hate being dependent upon their powers.

Anakin wins that race by repairing his crippled racer in an ecstasy of switch-flipping that looks about as intuitive as starting up a nuclear submarine. Clearly the boy is destined to be adopted into the Jedi order, where he will develop his geek talents - not by studying calculus but by meditating a lot and learning to trust his feelings. I lap this stuff up along with millions, maybe billions, of others. Why? Because every single one of us is as dependent on science and technology - and, by extension, on the geeks who make it work - as a patient in intensive care. Yet we much prefer to think otherwise.

Scientists and technologists have the same uneasy status in our society as the Jedi in the Galactic Republic. They are scorned by the cultural left and the cultural right, and young people avoid science and math classes in hordes. The tedious particulars of keeping ourselves alive, comfortable and free are being taken offline to countries where people are happy to sweat the details, as long as we have some foreign exchange left to send their way. Nothing is more seductive than to think that we, like the Jedi, could be masters of the most advanced technologies while living simple lives: to have a geek standard of living and spend our copious leisure time vegging out.

If the "Star Wars" movies are remembered a century from now, it'll be because they are such exact parables for this state of affairs. Young people in other countries will watch them in classrooms as an answer to the question: Whatever became of that big rich country that used to buy the stuff we make? The answer: It went the way of the old Republic.

Neal Stephenson is the author, most recently, of "The System of the World," the last book of "The Baroque Cycle" trilogy.

Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company Home Privacy Policy Search

2005-06-18T12:52:00.000-07:00

Ward Sutton

2005-06-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

Brent Murray/NYTimes.com

Cathy Horyn at Fashion Week in February 2005

June 13, 2005
Cathy Horyn

The Times's fashion critic answered readers' questions about her experience losing 30 pounds and covering the fashion world.

Q. How did you maintain the discipline to keep on your program for so long? What kept you motivated during the process and did you have any experiences with suppressing any urges?
? Srinivas Kumar, Chapel Hill, N.C.

A. Hearing my cholesterol number had a real impact on me and lowering it became my prime motivation. I didn't want to fail. While I had no trouble figuring out a low-fat diet (with the help of Jane Brody's 1985 book, which is carb-based), I did have problems in the early phase with portions. I made Brody's turkey burgers but they always turned out enormous. So were the salads I made. When you take a long-term approach to a diet, however, you give yourself time to adjust your habits (which in my case included things like toast with lots of butter and late-night snacks like cereal). Gradually the portions got smaller and I found I was less hungry. Yogurt with fruit and a little honey has been a good snack and, at times, a meal in itself. I started the diet in early September and didn't see much weight loss until November. The real change happened when I started swimming. I was in Tokyo, on assignment, when I decided to use the hotel pool. I thought, "This is something I can do and it's more interesting than a treadmill or jogging." Back home, I switched to a gym that has a 25-meter pool and I now swim three or four days a week, about 30 laps each time. I also do about 20 minutes of free weights. But I think swimming was a big motivator. I saw results faster. And because I swim, I can afford to splurge now and then. By that, I mean cookies or a big blow-out meal, including wine and dessert. But on a daily basis I still avoid things like butter and cream, and I don't miss them. In September, I weighed about 166, and in mid-April, I weighed about 139. Another motivator was the change I saw in my face and neckline. In a way, the scale records weight loss but the mirror reflects the work. How you look and feel is the payoff.

Q. What became of your cholesterol level? Were you able to lower it any significant amount without medication?
? Dave Shallenberger, Decatur, Ga.

A. My cholesterol is now below 200.

Q. Was it the pressure of being around thinner women, and seeing the way others respond to them, that made you decide to lose weight?
? Timothy Doctor, Jamiaca, N.Y.

A. No, I never felt pressure to lose weight being around thin people. I gained most of my weight during my pregnancy, 19 years ago, and during that time I've seen a lot of thin people - models, etc. So obviously I wasn't in much of a hurry over the years to lose the weight. And when you're in your 30's or 40's, it's really hard to picture yourself as a 16-year-old, 110-pound model. Editors and retailing executives in the front row at fashion shows are under a bit more pressure now to look good - well groomed, really - because they're being photographed or giving on-camera interviews.

Q. I'm a 65-year-old mother and grandmother. Having a big family, there is always a crisis in the air and when that happens I eat and eat and eat: oreos, candy, condensed milk, the sweeter, the better. What can be done about it?
? Hulia Tettamanzy, Porto Alegre, Brazil

A. I know from experience that it's very difficult to lose weight when you have a family and a busy work schedule. When my son is home from school, I cook more and I eat more. My attitude now toward a work or personal crisis is that I'm not going to compound the problem with food or guilt about food. I'm just not going to accept it. Cutting out something that makes you feel good is hard, but you will feel a lot better if you do. It is about controlling your life and your time. For me, swimming has been a way of not accepting stress or nonsense from the office (we all feel it). Getting out of the house and going for a walk would do the same, I think. You start in a small way and then after a month, at least in my experience, it becomes a routine you don't want to give up.

Q. Who did you wear before you lost your weight? Who do you wear now? Do you think that you gravitate toward a different overall style now that you are thinner?
? Cari Varner, San Francisco

A. I wore a mixed bag of designer and non-designer clothes. I sort of built a uniform around basic black dresses, often with a cardigan, from designers like Dolce, Narciso Rodriguez and Jil Sander. I used local tailors to make trousers that I liked and I filled in my work wardrobe with things from Banana and J. Crew. I suppose the difference is now I'm looking for more feminine things, like the Balenciaga dress, and pretty, sleeveless blouses with linen sailor pants. It's also great to be able to wear clothes that have a smaller cut through the shoulders ? it opens your eye to different proportions. And many designers, like Nicolas Ghesquiere of Balenciaga and Stefano Pilati of YSL, have gone back to clothes with more construction, that emphasize shape and cut. So I'm looking forward to seeing how those clothes might work for me this fall. Apart from misguided moments of judgment (a party dress, say, with a beadwork AND a flouncy ruffle), my style is tailored and simple. In summer, for work, I still love khakis with a t-shirt but now I can wear a slimmer, low-rise cut with a tank top. If I'm going out to dinner in NYC, I like simple, fitted dresses that are sleeveless, usually with a v-neck. On the weekends, I'm in shorts or old jeans. The usual slob attire.

Q. Your writing is so excellent ? so socially astute and critical. I have to wonder why your piece ignored the real issues: why is mastery, as you put it, wrapped up in weighing less? Why must designers only design for rich bodies, not average bodies? Why was being a member of the club more important to you than dissecting the class premises behind clothing production?
? Nancy Wilcox, Washington

A. I would argue there is less class distinction in fashion than ever before. Though people still attach status to so-called luxury labels like Louis Vuitton ? to judge from the number of young women in Times Square you see with LV logo bags or their knockoffs ? there is much less stigma about wearing something from a mass merchant. People are motivated by value and good design. True, there is a lot of pressure on consumers these days to trade up ? more pressure to trade up, I think, than to be individuals. It's why mass merchants like Target have lines from Isaac Mizrahi and why so many non-apparel companies use "luxury" in their advertising. The strongest parts of the consumer market are the top and the bottom ? mass and class. But they co-exist in most peoples' lives.

Designer labels do discriminate by limiting their sizes to 0 to 14, but the designer business represents less than 4 percent of the total apparel market, so clearly a lot of people don't have the interest, the means or the time to buy into it. Why do fashion journalists pay so much attention to the big names? Because a handful of labels, like Prada, generate the fashion news. And they are feeding the rest of the industry in terms of creativity. One thing I've noticed in nearly 20 years of fashion reporting is that the consumer today is incredibly well informed. Information, more than income, determines whether she will be a successful shopper. Look at all the resources now available to her ? eBay, vintage shops, brand outlets, chain stores like Zara and Club Monaco. Fashion, like politics, is an insider's game. It's meant to be played at its liveliest. Being thinner changes my perspective only insofar as it allows me to experience a wider range of clothes and thus maybe know more about my beat. About five years ago, for the Times Magazine, I wrote about going to Chanel and having a haute couture suit made, which The Times paid for. The idea was to experience a very specialized world, from the perspective of a client. I could have interviewed regular clients for this information but there would always be a distance between what I wanted to know and what they were able to articulate. As for feminine mastery, I think it's largely a personal journey. For one woman, it can mean losing her shyness and becoming more social; for another it can mean a full-blown body makeover. For me, it was weight.

Q. While I can appreciate the pleasure you experienced in losing weight, feeling healthier and being able to fit into better grades of clothing, I don't see how this could possibly affect your analysis of fashion. What I have enjoyed about your reporting is your discernment and candor about collections ? utterly lacking in the fashion magazines ? as well as your referencing of historical/political/pop culture influences on fashion and designers. Much as we don't expect art critics to be artists, I don't think we expect fashion journalists to be couturiers, seamstresses or ? given the wages of most journalists ? top clients of fashion houses. So how does fashion journalism differ from any other critical endeavor that reports on the new with an experienced and skeptical eye? Do you think your reporting will now be less interesting to the still plump-of-bone?
? Anonymous, Leawood, Kan.

A. What I like about fashion as a beat is that it keeps changing. The business today is radically different than it was in 1995, when I left the Post and went to Vanity Fair for four years as a contributing editor. When I came to The Times in 1999, the news had shifted to the business of fashion ? to the corporate slug fest between Gucci and LVMH, and the power of brand marketing as finessed by Tom Ford. Well, fashion writing and criticism has to change with the times. There is a limited audience today, I think, for reviews that don't involve some element of business, some element of history and some inside dope, like the blogs and Web reports are offering. And, of course, some sophisticated humor to keep everything from collapsing into a rant. There is a line between being a critic and a participant; I think that critics for newspapers and magazines like The New Yorker recognize that and we are only to happy to maintain it. I lead, in a sense, a double life ? a personal life that is very far from the fashion front and a working life that attempts to be close to it. I don't see this changing because I'm thinner. In the course of thinking about the story, I went back to my early years in fashion, at the Detroit News and the Washington Post, and asked what had not been revealed to me because I couldn't wear most of the clothes I was writing about. This was something I never had reason to think about until I lost weight. I could have focused the story on the issue of weight in the fashion industry ? and, indeed, I interviewed other editors who had gained or lost weight for their impressions. But many of the conclusions seemed self-evident. The angle of the story really presented itself in the course of thinking about the past, and what maybe I had taken for granted. And I was intrigued by where I could take the story, as a journalist. What would be revealed to the reader about this world? So I go back to the beginning. It's important to break one's own conventions.

Q. Fashion reporter, no experience necessary? While it's true that you don't need to know about crop prices to write about farming, fashion seems like a whole different world. How did you learn all the jargon? The history of the different fashion houses? What sort of books did you read to be able to write about the runway as well as you do?
? Erik Maza, Sarasota, Fla.

A. In 1986, the Detroit News (or any medium-size paper) had an advantage in looking for a fashion reporter without experience. The person wouldn't bring any baggage to the beat. I had to write two try-out stories, of my choosing. One was about the seemingly odd use of black and navy together, a trend at the time, and the other was about curves and my mother's use (in the 1940's) of hip pads to give herself shape. Without too much background, you had to be more imaginative and free. Of course I was lost the first year, especially at the collections in Milan and Paris. Sometimes literally lost ? on my first trip to Milan I managed to stay at a hotel near the airport, miles from the shows. But from the outset, I was more interested in the lives of designers and the times in which they lived than the clothes. I did a lot of reading ? Caroline Rennolds Milbanks, Aileen Ribeiro's great book "Dress and Morality," biographies and memoirs of designers, notably Chanel and Balenciaga. I used, and still do, the library at F.I.T. and the Costume Institute, where you find clippings files. I sometimes think the best candidate for a fashion reporting job today is a person who is intimately connected with his or her times ? what music people listen to, how they spend money ? but has a knowledge of 75 years of fashion history to judge why certain contemporary changes might be more meaningful than others. Above all, though, as Gloria Emerson knew, you have to be a reporter ? interested in people's stories.

Q. I'm a huge fan of your writing style and your elegant twists and metaphors. Have you written any books? If not, are you planning to write one anytime soon?
? Lisa, Oregon

A. I've written one book, "Bare Blass," with Bill Blass, which was a great experience. I hope to write more.

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2005-06-18T11:54:00.000-07:00

Jamie Rector for The New York Times

The exhibition will also visit Fort Lauderdale, Chicago and Philadelphia over the next 27 months.

June 16, 2005
King Tut, Museum Trailblazer, Begins Encore
By EDWARD ROTHSTEIN

LOS ANGELES, June 14 - The Curse of the Pharaohs has a long heritage, at least as far as King Tut is concerned. It was said to have caused a series of unusual deaths that followed quickly on the 1922 discovery of Tutankhamen's tomb in the Valley of the Kings near Luxor. Later it supposedly brought blackouts, floods and major inconveniences, all in retribution for the disruption of Tut's 3,300-year-old mummy and the display of any of the 5,398 objects that filled his oddly cramped tomb.

But in the museum world the curse may have another meaning, one traceable to the exhibition of 50 objects from the tomb that toured the United States in the late 1970's. That exhibition championed supplementary admission prices, boosted the importance of souvenir shops, caused a renaissance of Egyptian kitsch and set curators and museum boards to salivating for something else that could draw eight million visitors.

With the opening here on Thursday of "Tutankhamen and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs" - a two-year, four-city American tour with the stated goals of mass appeal and mass profits - many feared this more recent curse, of abject commercialism, would rise again. Yet unless vast sums are lost, this is one time when the curse may have lost its power. It isn't that the exhibition - produced by a consortium of private companies and carrying a top ticket price of $30 at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art - totally escapes the risks of profiteering or politicized oversight. But despite its flaws, it is often powerful, sometimes provocative and always worth seeing. Its beautiful objects range from a sensuous unguent spoon shaped like a swimming woman to one of Tut's intricate golden coffinettes designed to store his mummified viscera.

Its displays are theatrically lighted, sometimes choosing effect over clarity, but each gallery is given its own striking atmosphere. And the thematic organization skillfully surveys the generations preceding Tut and the burial customs of his time. And finally 50 objects from Tut's tomb are presented, only 12 of which were seen during the previous tour.

Some flaws, such as the need for more textual material, could be ascribed to commercial concerns about audience response, but they are not fatal, so powerful are the objects.

One of the unusual effects of the exhibition is that, at least subliminally, it seems to undermine its promotional presuppositions. By not allowing the more elaborate pieces to travel - like the gold burial mask that became the icon of the first Tut show - and choosing some of the more intimate pieces to display and adding about 70 objects from the 18th dynasty to suggest a broader context, the Egyptian government altered the perspective: Tut, instead of being the climax of the exhibition, as he is meant to be, becomes something of an epilogue, a puzzle.

This exhibition is a fund-raiser, and Egypt has made clear that it wants to earn at least $10 million from each city visited - Los Angeles (through Nov. 15), Fort Lauderdale, Chicago and Philadelphia. The money is to be used for preserving antiquities.

The tour promises a lot more vulgarity than propriety, even if one presenter is National Geographic (which has already produced a television program, sponsored a CT scan of Tut's mummy suggesting that he was not killed by a blow to the head, and published the exhibition catalog).

Zahi Hawass, the secretary general of the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities, chose the objects and wrote the catalog's text. But the exhibition's shape and its texts were overseen by David P. Silverman, an Egyptologist at the University of Pennsylvania, who was also a guiding light in the first Tut exhibition.

He gave pride of place to two distinct objects that seem to affect one's perception of the exhibition. Both appear with self-conscious theatricality, starkly lighted, rising out of dark, hushed galleries. Both are first seen from a distance and approached as they might be by supplicants. Both were pharaohs in the 18th dynasty. And they are images of father and son.

The first, of course, is of Tutankhamen, who appears as a painted wooden torso mounted on a pedestal, as if he were the guardian of what is to be seen within. He seems almost gentle, self-effacing. The hint of a smile, the wide patient eyes, testify to innocence. He is older here than 9, his age when he first took the throne (in 1332 B.C., according to the exhibition), but he doesn't seem close to 18 or 19, the age at which he suddenly died under peculiar circumstances. He hardly seems prepared to dominate an exhibition, let alone rule a kingdom.

That impression is amplified by a second image: an imposing limestone head of Akhnaten (originally called Amenhotep IV). Current theory is that Akhnaten was Tutankhamen's father, and an imposing model he must have been. The head, nearly five feet tall, can seem almost distended, stretched; in photographs it can even seem a little grotesque. But here it is mounted high as its proportions suggest, and the effect is monumental.

He appears to be everything King Tut is not - authoritative, compassionate and condescending, one who commands. The image casts its shadow over the exhibition; so does a striking stone relief in the same gallery, showing Akhnaten and his family making offerings to the sun.

Akhnaten tried to transform the religious culture of ancient Egypt, making the sun god the center of worship, moving the empire's capital, building new temples and destroying the old. For many scholars he was a harbinger of monotheistic ideas, and that is how he appears here.

Within a generation that revolution was overturned, and Tutankhamen is often considered the instigator of this counterrevolution. But the images of Tut, along with his age, make this seem implausible. One must look to his overseers - each of whom succeeded Tut in power after his death, one of whom altered a stone inscription and claimed Tut's credit for the religious restoration.

But a diminished profile of Tut is not something that an exhibition like this can readily promote, particularly not when it wants to usher its subject into the commercial afterlife. And that shrunken scale also requires that one explain the opulence of the tomb's objects. Were all pharonic tombs so saturated with riches? Does this one seem so unusual because it was hidden under debris and survived the millennia unplundered (except for some minor thefts close to Tut's time)?

Why then was Tut buried in a cramped space that would have been more suited to a wealthy commoner? Why was one of his advisers and successors, Aye, apparently buried in Tut's intended tomb? Was the gold meant as compensation, as Dr. Silverman believes, for an inadequate tomb that had to be used in haste? Or, as one might more luridly fantasize, was it a guilt offering to a sweet boy raised by experienced counselors who perhaps put other plans into effect as he reached adulthood?

The exhibition does not offer enough information or raise enough questions, but this can be corrected by a curious visitor. And only rarely do promotional impulses seem overwrought, as they do in the catalog's foreword, in which Suzanne Mubarak, the first lady of Egypt, writes, "The civilization of the pharaohs has long stood as a beacon to the world, a symbol of what is possible when people work together toward common goals."

Perhaps, but that is not quite what the history reveals, and the objects speak more plainly. One of Tut's cosmetics jars, made of ivory, is crowned with a lion and inscribed with lions and dogs attacking their prey. The jar rests on the bodies of Egypt's enemies, their heads protruding. Two are Nubian faces carved of black stone, two of bearded Asiatics, carved of red stone.

It is best to see such things clearly, and for the most part, throughout this exhibition, we do.

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2005-06-18T11:49:00.000-07:00

Jamie Rector for The New York Times
A carved wooden bust of Tutankhamen as a youthful figure.

2005-06-18T11:40:00.000-07:00

Andreas F. Voegelin/Agence France-Presse--Getty Images
The golden diadem was still around the head of Tutankhamun when the British archaeologist Howard Carter opened the royal coffin more than 3,200 years after the young king died

2005-06-18T11:38:00.000-07:00

Last-minute walk-throughs at the exhibit, which opens at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art on June 16 and runs there through Nov. 15.

2005-06-18T11:37:00.000-07:00

Jamie Rector for The New York Times

Pedestrians walk past the large banners that precede the opening of the King Tut Exhibit at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. The stated goals of the exhibition's two-year, four-city American tour are mass appeal

2005-06-17T14:11:00.000-07:00

Steven Klein/W Magazine

Angelina Jolie, left, and Brad Pitt, in a photograph from W magazine.

June 14, 2005
Staging Celebrity in Buzztown, U.S.A.
By CARYN JAMES

If you didn't know that there was some kind of off-screen chemistry between Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, you wouldn't guess it from "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," the tepid action-romance in which they play married assassins out to kill each other. But we do know - from television, print and the Internet - all the speculation about a real-life affair, just as we know that Russell Crowe, in New York last week to promote his boxing movie, "Cinderella Man," was arrested for throwing a phone at a hotel clerk, and that Tom Cruise now behaves like a wind-up doll endlessly shouting to the public that he loves Katie Holmes. (Jumping on couches is optional.)

The huge wave of Pitt-Jolie publicity drove "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," which opened Friday, to an unexpectedly big $51.1 million weekend at the box office, but that's information for industry types to parse. For the average viewer in this celebrity-crazed culture, the hype and buzz are simply part of the baggage we carry into the theater along with the popcorn and the smuggled cans of soda. Whether Brad Pitt and Russell Crowe are playing characters in films, playing themselves on talk shows or are caught by paparazzi at unsuspecting moments, their fictional and nonfictional roles blend into one huge performance piece that affects how we watch their films, now more than at any time since the star-making business began.

With the Smiths, the gossip enhances the movie. We're convinced that Mr. Pitt and Ms. Jolie are hot for each other - a 60-page romp in W magazine is the latest coy hint - so we sit through the film hunting for clues to back that up; that game can be more amusing than the movie.

But sometimes the buzz backfires. When Mr. Cruise turns up later this month in Steven Spielberg's "War of the Worlds," as a father trying to save his children from aliens, his new Tom-on-laughing-gas image will be an obstacle to overcome. Either way, there's no sense pretending the baggage isn't there, especially since the dynamics of creating a star's persona are becoming more complicated all the time.

Eons ago, when movie studios could fiercely control stars' images, there was no Smoking Gun Web site to offer instant access to their arrest reports, no computers or camera-phones to spread unglamorous images. Now the media overload creates an ambient noise around movies, a sound so pervasive that even people who don't pay attention absorb it.

And there is a powerful tug of war in progress. On one side are the stars' publicists, who try to manipulate their clients' images through friendly interviews and restricted access; at the official press day for "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," journalists interviewing Mr. Pitt and Ms. Jolie were required to sign separate his-and-her agreements not to ask personal questions. On the other side is a gossip industry that relies on rumor and relentless paparazzi to try to penetrate that barrier. Bombarded with conflicting images, the average viewer is increasingly savvy and cynical about the publicity machine itself.

So we watched Diane Sawyer trail Mr. Pitt on a visit with impoverished children in Ethiopia and South Africa on ABC's "Primetime Live" last week, knowing that in April, Us Weekly published photographs of him in a more luxurious African setting, playing on a beach in Kenya with Ms. Jolie and her toddler son. "Primetime" drew big ratings, but watching doesn't mean we're sold. Mr. Pitt is right to say that he may as well turn the media attention toward the plight of starving children, but it's annoying to hear megamillionaire stars trying to make the rest of us feel bad for having food.

The latest move in the cat-and-mouse game Mr. Pitt and Ms. Jolie are playing with the public is the elaborate W spread, in which they teasingly portray a 1960's couple evidently bored with everything in their marriage except sex. More erotically charged than anything in their movie, the photographs were shot in March, before the rumors exploded, but are now part of the psychodrama we bring to the film.

While gossip helped the summer confection "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," the sober, treacly "Cinderella Man," about a Depression-era boxer trying to provide for his family, hasn't benefited from Mr. Crowe's real-life phone-tossing. The film was already a box-office dud, and it dropped a calamitous 48 percent last weekend. What's strange is that the off-screen image matters less here than in most films, because the hugely talented Mr. Crowe vanishes completely into his role. In fact, he was more convincing playing the movie's hero than playing Russell Crowe, contrite husband and father, as he chatted with David Letterman, Conan O'Brien and Chris Matthews on the obligatory Hugh Grant apology tour. (The now-classic strategy was pioneered by Mr. Grant a decade ago, when he went on Jay Leno's show after being arrested for picking up a prostitute and charmed his way back into the country's good graces.)

On "Late Show With David Letterman," wearing jeans and his official "Cinderella Man" jacket - the clothes familiar from photos of him in handcuffs - Mr. Crowe stiffly said that he regretted having lost his temper and that he had been frustrated at his inability to phone his wife in Australia. "I'm trying to fulfill my basic obligations to my wife," became his mantra, in language so awkward it might have come from a Victorian novel. Television viewers can never really judge an actor's sincerity, but you'd think Russell Crowe could do a better job of playing himself.

And Mr. Cruise's new connection with the public seems to be wired wrong. The minute he walked onto "The Tonight Show" last week, you knew he'd have to jump on that couch to make fun of his widely derided appearance on Oprah Winfrey's show. (His movie opens on June 29 and Ms. Holmes's "Batman Begins" opens tomorrow; convenient, almost too convenient.) His attempt at self-deprecating humor on the Leno show was so obvious and calculated, it defeated the purpose.

That's not a bad thing; the more blatant the stars' ploys, the more a healthy skepticism creeps into viewers' minds. When Mr. Cruise says in the current Entertainment Weekly that Ms. Holmes "digs" his religion, Scientology, his language is almost as stilted as Mr. Crowe's. No wonder there's a Web site selling T-shirts, hats and buttons that say, "Free Katie."

Ms. Holmes just keeps on giggling as she makes the rounds promoting "Batman Begins." She giggled again when Mr. Letterman asked if she was going to marry Mr. Cruise, and said, "I'm smiling, aren't I?" If you're tempted to find this cute, remember, they're actors; if they can't act giddy on cue, what good are they?

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Fatigue de guerre

2005-06-10T15:46:00.000-07:00

Daniel Arnaudet/ Museum of the Castles

"Bonaparte Crossing the Alps" (1800-1).

June 10, 2005
Sizing Up Jacques-Louis David, in a Compact Way
By ROBERTA SMITH

WILLIAMSTOWN, Mass. ? The achievement of the French painter Jacques-Louis David lies just beyond the pale of modernism. We know that the artist, whose late work is the subject of a compact and revelatory exhibition at the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute here, is indisputably great.

His "Oath of the Horatii," painted in 1784 and exhibited to almost universal acclaim in the Salon of 1785, is a veritable cornerstone of Neo-Classicism. It announced the triumphant return of the grand tradition of Poussinian history painting, and answered the prayers of critics who had been fulminating against the decadence of court painting for years, with Boucher as main scapegoat. It gave visual form to the ideas of the French Revolution before the fact and imbued the events of Greek history with an emotional and spatial immediacy that Poussin never imagined.

In the darkened lectures of Western Art 101, when "The Oath" pops up on the screen after the frothy Bouchers and Watteaus, you take notice. Against an arched setting so plain and lucid as to be almost proto-Minimalist, its impossibly buff, synchronized warrior-brothers reach toward the handful of swords that their father thrusts aloft, their resolute virility enhanced by a huddle of hysterical women and children.

Still, David's achievement is hard to keep in focus. It is too complex, resistant, intimidatingly versatile, politically slippery and enmeshed in history. It comes at us in bits and pieces: the Horatii pledging their lives; Brutus in his grief as the lictors carry in his dead sons; Madame Recamier sitting on her chaise like a mermaid on a sarcophagus; Napoleon crowning Josephine amid enough imperial splendor and extras to satisfy Cecil B. DeMille; the Sabine women courageously calling timeout in battle; various mythological lovers like Cupid and Psyche in their porcelain embraces. And there are the portraits, the best of which convey a sense of scrutiny and stillness that would be equaled only by photography.

In every mode, the images are fueled by the same sure knowledge of anatomy, tuned to real or ideal, a sense of smooth polished skin that may have been new to painting. Yet with all the movement between fact and myth, past and present and propaganda and reportage, it is almost a relief to let David get lost in the shuffle of the great, universally adored, more manageable 19th-century French painters who followed him, starting with his student Ingres.

Then came Delacroix and G?ricault, whose roiling "Raft of the Medusa" heralded the downfall of Neo-Classicism and the onset of Romanticism, Realism and modernity. David quickly became the 19th-century's b?te noire, the personification of the Academy that Courbet and Manet challenged and the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists largely ignored.

Born in Paris in 1748 into a family that included master masons and architects, David entered the French Academy at age 17 but had a slow start. It took nearly a decade and five tries to win the Prix de Rome (after his second loss, he attempted suicide by starvation for two days). Four more years of struggle followed in Rome before he found his style. The saving grace, mere months before his return to Paris, was a trip to Naples in 1779, where he saw the antiquities at Herculaneum and Pompeii. He later wrote that the experience was like having surgery for cataracts.

It is possible that no artist except Rubens was more politically active, but even Rubens did not have to negotiate one of the most tumultuous, fast-moving and treacherous periods in history. Somehow, David had the ambition and the savvy to keep his boat not only afloat but somewhere near the head of the fleet.

Elected as a deputy to the National Convention, he voted for the execution of Louis XVI in 1793. He was a confidant of Danton and Robespierre during their Reign of Terror; during this period he organized revolutionary festivals and painted his starkest, perhaps greatest painting, "Marat Assassinated." He then served a year in prison after the fall of the Jacobins. And under Napoleon, David was named First Painter, although he had to be asked twice. (He sensibly turned down the offer of such a courtly position while the Little Corporal was still First Consul of the ostensibly republican Directory).

In 1815, after Waterloo and Napoleon's second abdication, the game was up. The last act was exile in Brussels, where he died in 1825 at 77.

Perhaps it is not surprising that - relative to the attention lavished on Monet and company - a certain art historical neglect ensued. The first monographs on David in English did not appear until 1980. "Jacques-Louis David: Empire to Exile," the Clark's show, is the first major exhibition of his work in the United States.

It is not big or complete in any sense. Almost none of the paintings mentioned above are included. (The Louvre, which owns the most important Davids, rarely lends even those that are small enough to be moved.)

But this is a thoroughly wonderful show. Including 26 paintings and 22 drawings, it has been organized in collaboration with the J. Paul Getty Museum, where it was seen earlier this year, and overseen by Philippe Bordes, who teaches at the University of Lyons-2. The focus on late work obviates the need for "The Oath," or other examples of the early history paintings, including the Met's "Death of Socrates." The absence of so many of the usual masterpieces means the exhibition emphasizes the David who is slightly outside history and, you could say, more within painting.

The assembled works concentrate on portraits, sprinkled with depictions of Napoleon, some mythological scenes and a surprising group of black-crayon drawings done in Brussels. The accessories and hairdos are Greek, but the thickened features and grieving expression recall his early admiration for Michelangelo.

By the show's conclusion, you probably won't miss the big Louvre-locked Napoleonic warhorses, even thought they fall within the exhibition's scope. (Several of these works are present in color reproductions that dominate most of the show's third gallery; the display includes enormous images that seem to reproduce a narrow strip of each painting at a gargantuan scale. They suggest a dangerously off-the-leash graphic designer, until you find out that these portions are actual size.) All told, the exhibition provides a rare and riveting view of a great, innovative painter whose inordinately complex life and striving personality play out in his work to a remarkable degree.

You can't spend five minutes in the show before realizing that one of its accomplishments is to destabilize any notion of Neo-Classicism, Romanticism and Realism as separate entities, at least as applied to the second half of David's career. It also makes clear that he never completely severed his ties to the work of the much-maligned Boucher, whose art he grew up adoring.

This may explain, for example, the beautiful wet-on-wet tendrils of the mane and tail of the manic rearing steed in the impossibly heroic image of Napoleon crossing the Alps (1800-1). And the locks are only the most overtly gorgeous part of this sparkling image, in which Napoleon's cape, blowing beside him like a great wing or a cantilevered crag almost as solid as the surrounding rock. But Napoleon actually made the trip on a mule, and David seems to hint at the impossibility of his portrayal in the deft indications of tiny soldiers trudging along in the background, sometimes climbing nearly vertical cliffs.

The show is a panoply of changing subjects, techniques and degrees of finish. The subtle painterliness of the surface of the Napoleon stands in marked distinction to the pristine smoothness of its neighbor, "Sappho, Phaon and Cupid" from the State Hermitage Museum, where all parties disconcertingly look out at the viewer while Sappho, her alabaster arms raised toward Cupid, swoons at the touch of Phaon.

Neither work prepares you for the thinly scumbled surface of David's "Self-Portrait" from the Louvre, painted in 1794 in prison. Dressed in subdued browns against a brushy brown background reminiscent of Goya (who was almost his exact contemporary), David presents himself as a simple painter, palette and brushes in hand, as if denying allegiance to all but art.

Then the high gloss returns again, in "The Emperor Napoleon in His Study at the Tuileries," which shows the ruler looking slightly foppish, the Napoleonic Code on his desk, the candles burnt low, the clock reading 4:10 in the morning.

The portraits and their differences hold the attention longest here. The high finish and carefully choreographed settings for Napoleon contrast with the plainness of the commissioned portrait of the wealthy Irish Quaker Cooper Penrose, a study in black, white and gray painted in David's studio in the Louvre; it could be a pendant to Whistler's portrait of his mother. The portraits of his family have an ineffable tenderness, especially one of his wife, who has the face of an Irish barmaid but is dressed in white satin as fine as that clothing the beautiful Countess Daru, whose portrait is on loan from the Frick Collection.

The final gallery is devoted to portraits that David painted in Brussels. All of them depict fellow refugees from Napoleon's court, including a striking double portrait of the emperor's nieces, Z?na?de and Charlotte Bonaparte. The sisters, seated on a couch of red velvet embroidered with the imperial bee motif, are interrupted while reading a letter from their father, Joseph, who had fled to New Jersey. They look toward us, one bold, one timid, their personalities delicately and profoundly differentiated.

It has been said that Nadar's photograpic portraits were presaged by Ingres's painted ones, but the distinction belongs to David, who expanded his understanding of the human body, gleaned from antique sculpture, to encompass the human psyche and became the first painter of modern life.

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2005-06-10T14:55:00.000-07:00

Tom Schierlitz

In Gold We Trust: A gold ingot weighing 99.362 troy ounces (6.8 pounds) -- to "gold bugs," paper money is just paper without it

June 5, 2005
Believing (and Believing and Believing) in Bullion
By STEPHEN METCALF

On a recent early spring morning, I made my way down to the appropriately poker-faced and austere building that houses the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. In its sub-basement, 80 feet below street level, there is a vault that rests on the granite bedrock of Manhattan. ''No man-made floor could hold the weight of all this,'' Peter Bakstansky, a Fed spokesman, assured me. The vault holds 7,000 tons of gold. This represents the world's largest stash of the precious metal, and it is worth about $100 billion. To view it, you descend to an underground bunker and pass through a narrow passageway cut into a 90-ton steel cylinder. Like most people, I'd seen gold before, though only in small quantities -- a filling here, a vanity wristwatch there. In front of me now, stacked in bricks atop wooden pallets, lay some pretty serious bling.

Gold is a majestic condenser of wealth. A standard bar is seven inches long, three and five-eighths inches wide, and about one and three-quarters inches thick. It weighs 27.4 pounds, and at the current market price -- roughly $420 a troy ounce, the unit in which gold is measured -- is worth about $170,000. As miraculous as gold is in itself -- it is soft, dense, ductile, sectile, highly conductive, all but indestructible and, of course, very beautiful -- when you look at any quantity of it, you immediately exchange it in your head for something else. One bar, college education; 10 bars, Brooklyn town house. The cage in front of me appeared fairly small. Filled to the ceiling with gold bars as it was, it might well hold the financial health of a nation in the balance.

Most of the bullion at the New York Fed is kept -- in 122 separate lockers -- in custody for foreign countries. (Most American gold is in Fort Knox.) There is something ancient and strange about the vault, in which workers wear magnesium shoe covers to protect their toes from falling ingots. Egyptians were casting bars of gold thousands of years ago; but the thrust of human history has been away from hard money and toward virtual money, like paper bills, or even little electronic pulses shot off by the trillion across the ether. When I remarked that all this brute physical wealth represented an anachronism, Bakstansky seized upon the word brightly.

''Yes, exactly. Gold is an anachronism.''

''And yet,'' I said, ''all these nations, they hold on to this anachronism, just in case. . . . ''

At this, a light chill entered his voice. ''I don't think anyone in a policy-making position,'' he explained to me politely, ''seriously believes that everything else of value could disappear, leaving only gold.''

To a small but extremely avid subculture in the American financial community, gold doesn't mean bling, or King Midas, or them thar hills. Gold is money; and not just money, but the one true money. The gold subculture divides along several lines -- some of its members are gold speculators, some gold hoarders, some gold philosophers and some outright nut jobs -- but it unites behind a single idea: Paper money issued by governments, when not redeemable for actual gold, is fraudulent. Most of us accept the existence of dollar bills unconsciously. To the gold faithful, however, a dollar bill is ''ink money,'' or better yet, ''fiat currency,'' a nearly constant term of abuse at gold conferences and in gold chat rooms. ''Fiat currency -- it's a floating abstraction,'' Doug Casey, a star speaker on the gold circuit, bellowed at me over the phone. ''What's its worth? I don't know what it's worth! It's a figment of some government bureaucrat's imagination!''

The ''gold bugs,'' as they often are referred to with more than a hint of disdain, find gold appealing because they believe it represents the one enduring form of nonstate money. ''Money is far too important to be left in the hands of bankers, Congress or the Federal Reserve System,'' Gary North, a legendary gold bug who has edited financial newsletters for decades, told me via e-mail. North's Web commentaries include everything from advice regarding prostate problems (saw palmetto has helped his immensely) to a recently completed 700-page ''economic commentary'' on the Gospel of Luke, which he encourages readers to download onto their hard drives, in case he were to ''drop dead and the site is taken down for any reason.'' But the focus of his writings is politics, and North's politics aren't hard to pin down. His is the fierce libertarianism of the ardent gold bug.

I had sought out Casey and North, two leading voices among gold enthusiasts, because after 20 years during which paper assets -- stocks, bonds, and the world's leading ''fiat currency,'' the dollar -- soared, gold was making a comeback. If you bought $10,000 worth of gold in 1980, by 2001 you would have lost $6,800. But then the long bull market in stocks ended, and the dollar, responding to the growing debt burden of the average American, not to mention the federal debt and our trade deficit, began a steep decline. And so, starting in 2001, gold, which like many commodities moves in the opposite direction of the dollar, began to recover some of its lost glamour as a store of value. The price of gold broke through the $300 barrier in February 2002, then the $400 barrier at the end of 2003. Could this be the dawn of the apocalypse that the gold bugs, whose prevailing attitude might best be described as a wishful pessimism, have been predicting? Could the dollar collapse, leaving only gold?

''I will accept questions by e-mail,'' North wrote me, adding, ''I will answer the following type question: 'In your article on [ ], you write that [ ]. But what about this? How could this work?''' I apparently phrased my first questions according to protocol, because North e-mailed me back, relaying his nine-point plan for returning gold to its proper status as the only money. Among his ideas: ''Government collects tax payments in gold. . . . Abolish legal tender law. . . . Let anyone set up a bank/warehouse company who wants to.'' Gold bugs are notoriously squirrelly, and North had warned me ahead of time: no questions regarding the future price of gold, and all questions must hew closely to his published work. When I e-mailed him again, asking whether the rising price of gold might be signaling doom, I must have crossed some invisible line. His one-sentence reply read simply, ''Here endeth the lesson.''

For the past 70 years, the United States has been conducting an experiment regarding the dollar. The experiment asks: Can the United States manage its currency responsibly, without having that currency backed by gold? The U.S. effectively went off the gold standard twice in the 20th century, and both times responsible men in positions of power foresaw cataclysm. ''This is the end of Western civilization!'' Lewis Douglas, Franklin Roosevelt's budget director, declared in 1933, when Roosevelt terminated the right of American citizens to demand gold in exchange for their dollars. ''Pravda would write that this was a sign of the collapse of capitalism,'' Arthur Burns, chairman of the Federal Reserve, warned Richard Nixon in 1971, when Nixon terminated the right of our international trading partners to demand gold in exchange for their dollars.

In spirit, the gold bugs are the heirs to Douglas and Burns. Every day is the end of Western civilization -- or should be, now that our currencies float free of gold. In fact, the recent weakness of the dollar has become an id?e fixe within the gold community, as it opens up one possible route back to an economic system ballasted by gold. Representative Ron Paul, a Republican from Texas who is gold's lonely advocate in Congress, put it to me this way: ''We will go back to the gold standard, even if it takes the near-destruction of the dollar to get there.''

James Sinclair is a 64-year-old American businessman in a tan blazer and navy blue slacks. From his manner and dress, he could be host to an Amway seminar. But when he speaks, he sounds more like a karma yogi. It's as if you're watching a movie dubbed with the wrong soundtrack. ''Silence is deep rest,'' Sinclair told me as we waited for sandwiches at a deli. ''It's the only way to restructure ourselves.'' Among the most famous gold speculators, Sinclair proclaimed in the 70's that gold, then at $150 a troy ounce, would hit $900. (It eventually peaked at $887.50; he sold his position the following day, for a profit of more than $15 million.) Then, with some analysts predicting that gold could go as high as $2,000, he declared the gold bull market dead. (Within months, he was proved right.) In 2001, with gold near its bear-market lows, Sinclair told Forbes magazine that it could hit $430. On the day I met him, gold was trading at $434.

Sinclair remains a star attraction at gold conferences around the world, but in the 1980's he sold his brokerage firm and took his wife and two of his daughters to the foothills of the Berkshires, where he lives on a 40-acre equestrian compound featuring its own 9,000-gallon water system, its own electrical system and a shooting range. (''I like to cut a target every now and again,'' he told me. ''Get out my aggressions.'') Sinclair's private office sports the typical C.E.O. blandishments -- a massive mahogany desk, a wall-mounted flat-panel computer monitor -- but also a profusion of religious items. Incense always burns, and a temple gong sits in the corner, along with a prominently displayed statue of Ganesh. Behind the desk there is a full-color portrait of Bhagavan Sri Sathya Baba, whom Sinclair visits frequently in India. ''I am an enquiring soul,'' he replied, when I asked if he was Hindu. ''All the great minds have wandered the Indus Valley.''

Perhaps because he has found spiritual satisfaction elsewhere, Sinclair regards gold with dispassion. ''Gold is not to be loved or hated, accepted or refused,'' he said. ''Gold is not barbaric or angelic. It fixes nothing in itself. But it is a mirror.'' Sinclair sees the health of the dollar reflected in the price of gold, and the health of the dollar is now in foreign hands. ''We're not talking about what I want, but about what is,'' he told me, as he picked through a tuna salad. ''If we go over $529, that is not good news,'' he said, referring to the price of gold. ''Anyone cheering for a high price of gold should get on Prozac.'' Sinclair says that when the dollar acts successfully as the world's currency, gold naturally returns to its status as a mere commodity. In the parlance, it demonetizes -- it loses out to the dollar as the world's reserve currency. But a mismanaged dollar, he said, could cause gold to remonetize. Our world would look very different then. ''The first sign is the foreign banks will diversify out of dollars. Then they will cease buying dollars. And then they will sell them.'' What could happen then? ''Stagflation. . . . Expansion of U.S. federal deficit. Expenses rise and incomes drop.''

Are we talking apocalypse? ''The most likely crisis is the collapse in the common stock of the operating entity. In this case, the operating entity is the United States, and the common stock is its currency.'' We had made our way up a hill, to Sinclair's koi pond and its accompanying meditation gazebo. As if on cue, what appeared to be a military airplane flew across the sky. ''That's carrying Iraqi supplies,'' Sinclair told me. ''We have war and monetary easing at the same time,'' he said, shaking his head. ''Everything has its season. That includes gold. Do I have a bet on gold? You know I do. Will I one day unravel that bet? You know I will.''

The Daily Reckoning is a freewheeling Web site for libertarians, gold bugs and doom enthusiasts of every stripe. Its editorial director is Addison Wiggin, and before we met, I pictured an ''Addison Wiggin'' as an ancient gold-hoarding Yankee, and the offices of The Daily Reckoning as a cinder-block bunker patrolled by Minutemen. I was wrong on both counts. Wiggin is a sober, black-clad 37-year-old who is active in libertarian circles. The Daily Reckoning, meanwhile, is nestled in the lovely Mt. Vernon section of Baltimore, and its interior could pass for any 1990's dot-com, with a glass-enclosed conference room, exposed brick walls and a couple of nerdy 20-somethings in sneakers and T-shirts.

The narrative Wiggin spun out for me over lunch is repeated, nearly verbatim, by almost everyone in the gold community. ''This is the blow-off phase for the Great Dollar Era. We're in an unsustainable trend right now,'' Wiggin told me, ticking off the miscalculations that have brought us to the brink of an economic apocalypse. To begin with, the U.S. has become the world's biggest debtor, with three outstanding obligations at alarming highs: consumer debt, or our mortgages and credit cards; the federal deficit; and our current account deficit with foreign countries. Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan, Wiggin continued, has simply shifted one bubble -- the 90's bubble in stocks and bonds -- into another, in real estate and ''overconsumption,'' or the American propensity to pay for an ever-more-lavish lifestyle on credit.

But the real nightmare involves the U.S. dollar. If Asian central banks weary of buying Treasury bonds -- an asset denominated in the weakening dollar -- then look out below. ''What is that Dylan Thomas quote?'' Wiggin wondered over his fusilli. ''The dollar will not go gently into that great night.''

Wiggin offered up his analysis with a confident and steady aplomb. And for good reason. While no one in the mainstream financial elite seriously advocates a return to the gold standard -- the modern global economy is too fluid and dynamic for such austere discipline -- at this moment, the gold bugs' grim prognosis for the dollar happens to align with a more mainstream view. A low-level panic about the debt crisis, and its possible effect on the American economy, is gathering strength. ''Our little post-bubble workout is not over, not by any stretch of the imagination,'' Stephen Roach, the chief economist at Morgan Stanley and himself a noted pessimist, told me recently by phone. Roach says he firmly believes that an adjustment is necessary and inevitable, and that when it comes, it will be very, very painful. From appearances, Warren Buffett, the savviest investor who ever lived, agrees. His company, Berkshire Hathaway, has placed a $21 billion bet against the U.S. dollar.

Meanwhile, the general tone is darkening. In February, Paul Volcker, the former Federal Reserve chairman, publicly stated in a speech that ''there are disturbing trends'' undergirding the U.S. economy, including ''huge imbalances, disequilibria, risks.'' These demand ''a strong sense of monetary and fiscal discipline,'' he said, gently chiding both the U.S. government and its citizens to live within their means. Volcker, a man known for his prudence and a cautious tone, let his words ring ominously. ''Altogether, the circumstances seem to me as dangerous and intractable as any I can remember,'' Volcker continued, referring to the very same warning signs as Addison Wiggin, ''and I can remember quite a lot.''

Recently, Comptroller General David Walker, surveying America's debt crisis, uttered a one-word synopsis for the long-term future: ''Argentina.''

Money is entirely conventional. It's a system of equivalence, a medium of exchange. In a society of any sophistication whatsoever, money is used reflexively. You hand me 50 cowrie shells, I give you a head of cattle. I give you a 20, you give me a tuna on rye and some change. As the greatest theorist of money, the German sociologist Georg Simmel, recognized, money is only money when it is in motion: ''When money stands still, it is no longer money according to its specific value and significance.'' Furthermore, the set of conventions that lend money its credibility as a medium of exchange must be universal and stable, so that the shells for which I relinquished my good cow today will be worth as much tomorrow, when I exchange them for something else. Money is built on motion and trust.

Gold, like everything else, is a commodity whose price is established by supply and demand. But gold is unlike everything else in that an ancient fantasy of solidity attaches to it. We produce things, but to exchange them efficiently, we throw over them what economists refer to as ''the veil of money.'' Interest rate swaps, swap curves, swaptions -- the veil only thickens with time. If the gold bugs are apocalyptic, it's worth recalling the etymology of the word ''apocalypse'': to uncover or reveal. Gold holds out the promise, however chimerical, that one day we might pierce the veil of money.

On the final leg of my tour of gold bugs, I visited the Blanchard Company in New Orleans. Blanchard is the largest retailer of gold to the American public, and it is owned and run by Donald Doyle, a soft-spoken man who might well be the living embodiment of the metal he sells: there is something soft but indestructible about his courtly Southern manner. After talking gold for the better part of an hour, we descended to the company vault. There he picked up two coins and placed one into each of my hands. They were ''Saint-Gaudens,'' named after the great American sculptor who designed them for Teddy Roosevelt. They had a face value of $20 and a value based on the amount of gold they contain -- probably a few hundred dollars. But the ornate coins were impossible to stack, and had been discontinued after a short run. On the open market now, thanks to their rarity, the coins together might fetch $800,000. They were heavy, and transfixingly beautiful, and even as I did the math in my head -- five coins, Brooklyn town house -- I heard Doyle say over my shoulder, ''And they sure feel good in your hands, don't they?''

Stephen Metcalf is the book critic for Slate and a regular contributor to The Times Book Review.

Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company Home Privacy Policy Search Corrections RSS Help Contact Us Back to Top

2005-06-08T21:50:00.000-07:00

In 2004 Treasure Island changed their image. This action/adventure swashbuckling
pirate show out front of the hotel changed to a production called "Sirens"

2005-06-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

A Beautiful Campus
From Gothic to Victorian, and from neoclassical revival to postmodern, buildings in a variety of architectural styles have been carefully planned to blend harmoniously into the landscape of the 500-acre campus. The Princeton experience is unique for each student because the campus offers diverse resources for the mind, body and spirit and enough flexibility for students to explore them in their own distinctive ways. More images are available online

2005-06-08T16:02:00.000-07:00

Luca Badoer
F1 > Silverstone June testing, 2005-06-01 (Silverstone): Day 1

Canadian GP: Ferrari preview
Racing series F1
Date 2005-06-07

The eighth round of the World Championship takes place on the Ile Notre Dame, an island in the St. Lawrence Seaway, a short subway ride from the city of Montreal. The location was used for the Expo 67 world fair and the paddock backs onto a rowing basin built for the 1976 Olympic Games.

Hemmed in on all sides by water the facilities and the circuit itself are rather cramped, with the barriers very near the side of the track, which follows the perimeter of the island. This means it has some very high speed sections, linked by tight ninety degree corners and a couple of hairpins.

The Montreal circuit is known for being hard on engines and that will be particularly applicable this year as Scuderia Ferrari Marlboro and the majority of other teams will be tackling the Canadian event with the same engines that have already gone through a weekend's use at the Nurburgring.

Montreal is not particularly demanding on the engine in terms of the percentage of the lap spent at full throttle, while the longest time spent at full throttle is pretty much the same as the season average.

The stress comes from the fact that the circuit not only has some of the quickest sections of the year, it also has some of the slowest, so the perfect Montreal engine has to be very flexible at all speeds, while providing plenty of torque to power out of the tight slow corners.

Those corners lead to another key element at the "Gilles Villeneuve" circuit -- the brakes. "The fast nature of the circuit means we run in low aerodynamic downforce configuration, the lowest of the season apart from Monza," explains Luca Baldisserri, Scuderia Ferrari Marlboro's Head of Race Engineers.

"Because of this we have to brake from very high speeds of around 340 km/h down to around 60 km/h, so the speed differential is huge. This is why it is very hard work for the brakes."

Unlike road cars that usually use steel brake discs and an organic pad material, F1 cars use carbon discs and carbon pads. The advantages of carbon are that the components are about half the weight of those made from conventional materials and it also offers a much higher coefficient of friction and therefore greater braking force.

The disadvantages are that the carbon set up requires very high (over 650 celsius) temperatures to operate properly and that the discs and pads wear out much more quickly than those made of conventional materials. This is because wear is caused not simply by the normal mechanism experienced by frictional material, but through a process of oxidisation where the carbon actually burns away.

"In Canada, we try different materials, because we need a lot of bite from the brakes to stop the car in as short a time as possible," says Baldisserri. "The standard brakes we normally use at other tracks are less efficient and different materials can improve that characteristic."

"One must not forget the life of the components, as brake wear is an important factor for this race. We need to find a good material that gives a lot of bite but that will still work effectively throughout the whole race distance."

Canada is also known for being heavy on fuel consumption and obviously, carrying more fuel adds to the stresses already placed on the brakes, as a heavier car is harder to stop. Changes to the qualifying format introduced at the European GP might have an effect on this, as Baldisserri explains.

"The rule requiring a driver to complete the race distance on one set of tyres definitely reduced the number of race pit-stops in the first part of the season, but, at the Nurburgring, with just the one qualifying session which cars contested using the fuel for the first stint of the race, we saw that some people were going back towards a more aggressive race strategy and stopping earlier as was the case last year. In Canada some teams might go in that direction, so as to run a lighter car."

"Depending on tyre performance, you can decide to be conservative or aggressive. Last year in Montreal for example, at Ferrari we had tyres that were not the fastest in terms of performance so we decided to go for a two stop race. Qualifying was not great but it was a successful race for us, with a one-two finish."

The whole braking process is complicated further by the laws of aerodynamics. When the driver first applies the brakes at very high speeds, the downforce generated by the car prevents the wheels from locking up, by pressing the wheels down onto the track. As the speed decreases so too does the downforce and therefore the amount of grip from the tyres.

But this lack of grip coincides with the point at which the brakes are fully up to temperature and are working most effectively. This means that, when the brakes are at their best, the car is least able to transmit the braking forces to the road thus leading to locking wheels and the chance of skidding off the road.

In order to prevent this phenomenon, the cars can harness the braking characteristics of the engine. All 4-stroke engines produce engine braking when a driver lifts off the throttle, but F1 engineers can harness this ability to meet the specific needs of any braking situation.

"We can modify engine braking, the amount of braking forces generated by the engine, during the braking phase," says Baldisserri. "This allows us to modulate the rear wheels locking. A lot of engine braking tends to lock the rear more and we can reduce that by opening the throttle without the driver having to do anything, as allowed by the rules."

"So depending if the front or the rear is locking up, we can either reduce or increase the engine braking. If the car is locking the fronts, we need more engine braking to reduce the amount of normal braking at the front. This is something the driver can adjust from the cockpit, in the same way as traction control, to suit individual corners on the track."

Although F1 brakes operate at high temperatures, heat is what causes the brakes to wear out and fail. The brakes are cooled by forcing air inside and around the discs through ducts at the front of the car. However, regulations restrict the size of these ducts and in any case, large ducts affect the car's performance in other ways.

"You have to find a balance between cooling the brakes and the car's overall efficiency," maintains Baldisserri. "The brake cooling ducts have an effect on the aerodynamic efficiency of the car. In simple terms, the bigger the brake ducts, the worse the efficiency of the car, so we have to find the right compromise."

The conclusion is that, while Formula 1 is perceived as being all about speed and power, in Canada, being able to stop the car efficiently is the real secret to a quick lap.

2005-06-08T15:55:00.000-07:00

Rubens Barrichello
F1 > European GP, 2005-05-27 (N?rburgring): Friday practice 2
Barrichello hopes to start winning
Racing series F1
Date 2005-06-07

By Nikki Reynolds - Motorsport.com

After spending last week testing at Silverstone Rubens Barrichello hopes that Ferrari can start winning again, beginning with the two North American events next on the calendar. Ferrari has a good history at Montreal's Cirucit Gilles Villeneuve and the famed Indianapolis track that hosts the US Grand Prix, so Barrichello is optimistic.

"I go to Canada, hoping the championship changes a bit for us and that we can start winning," said the Brazilian. "The next two tracks are ones where we are usually very strong so I go there in a positive frame of mind. I really like the atmosphere in Canada and I am enthusiastic about it."

"We are not going to Canada just to score points. We are thinking we can win. We need to see if we can get the best set-up and the best possible tyre. Renault and McLaren are very strong. But with a bit of luck and a good strategy, the car is good so if we make the right tyre choice we should be okay."

Ferrari's struggles this season have been well documented but Barrichello insists that morale remains high, despite the team being yet to score a win in 2005. "This is a team that has won in the past and knows how to win and in my opinion, we don't need much to get back to winning again," he remarked.

"Our rivals have managed to improve their cars and the way they use the tyres with the new regulations, while we have not progressed as much, compared to last year. We need to keep pushing, but we have the same commitment and work level, it is just the performance that is slightly lacking."

Many think that the championship titles are now out of Ferrari's grasp but Barrichello, unsurprisingly, does not agree with that opinion. "I think it is still possible for us to win them," he stated. "We have plenty of chance if we start winning soon."

"I don't think Renault is as dominant any more and I think McLaren is really on top at the moment. We have to see how it develops, but we must start winning races if we are to have a chance to win the championship. Our job is harder than at any other time in the recent past, but it is possible. There is always a way out of trouble."

"2003 was a difficult year but we still won. This year seems even more difficult but we are just keeping on working. If we win it or not, we have to keep working. If we are not champions, but win the last four races that means we have done a good job."

2005-06-08T15:54:00.000-07:00

Rubens Barrichello
F1 > Silverstone June testing, 2005-06-02 (Silverstone): Day 2

2005-06-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

The University of Maryland pool where Roberto Cabrera practices has underwater speakers, but he prefers listening instead to his waterproofed iPod

Go-Go-Go Beat
From Elevator to Anywhere, There's No Stopping the Music

By Linton Weeks
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, June 8, 2005; C01

Roberto Cabrera is a self-professed iPod addict. On this recent weekday afternoon, Cabrera, 22, is at one of his favorite hangouts, the Atlanta Bread Company in Greenbelt, doing some artistic sketching and listening to Billy Idol and the British popsters Pulp on his 20-gigabyte iPod. He's dark-haired, dark-eyed, slightly mustachioed and built compactly. The telltale white wires, tentacling down from his earbuds to his small white digital music player, connect Cabrera to the more than 5,000 songs that he has downloaded from CDs and the Internet.

To get a sense of how much music that is: Assuming that you listen to an hour's worth of tunes a day and each song lasts an average of four minutes, you would spend about a year exhausting the playlists on Cabrera's iPod.

Music addict Cabrera, however, listens to 14 hours of music a day. He needs two iPods -- so that one can be charging at all times.

A junior international business and studio art major at the University of Maryland, the amiable Cabrera says that music is a mega-massive part of his life. "I've always been influenced by music," he says. Now he needs it "all around me, all the time."

He chooses hard-chargers (99 All Stars or Andrea Doria) to wake to, softies (Cafe del Mar) to study by, inspirational bands (Snow Patrol or Nickelback) to exercise to, and mind-massaging performers (John Mayer or Radiohead) to help him drift off at night. He says simply, "I cannot go to sleep without music."

A freestyler on the Terrapins swim team, Cabrera packs his own tunes -- with the help of a waterproof device and headphones -- while practicing at the University of Maryland pool, which already has underwater speakers piping music to swimmers.

He listens to music of his own choosing while: eating, running, painting, pumping weights, driving. He listens to music while giving directions to someone on campus. He even listens to music in the classroom. "Like if it's a history course," he says, "I really could care less. The teacher is talking in a monotone. I turn it up. I put in one earbud and turn my head a little and the teacher can't tell."

All day, every day, Cabrera sets his waking hours to music. He is, in effect, creating the soundtrack of his life.

He is a musicholic and a classic creation of our time: the Era of the Ear, the Epoch of Omnipresent Song, this miraculous Age of Ubiquitous Music.

Surrounded by Sound

It's everywhere. There's no escaping it. Via broadcast and satellite radio and TV, an ever-expanding array of recording technologies -- such as CDs and MiniDiscs -- and the Internet, music has invaded the tiniest, quietest corners of our lives. You hear it in grocery stores, dentist's chairs, on TV commercials, whenever there's a lull in the action at sporting events, in bookstores, on the telephone while on hold, in the background while disc jockeys are talking, at restaurants and health clubs and gas stations.

We can hear the percussive candombe of Uruguay, the eerie throat-singing of Mongolia, raucous bush songs of the Australian outback, Gwen Stefani belting out "Hollaback Girl," or Mississippi John Hurt fingerpicking his blues guitar at any time, any place or any volume we choose.

Online music stores such as iTunes and Napster offer hundreds of thousands of songs for the downloading. Countless new bands spring up all the time, many producing tired music. Meanwhile, old bands refuse to fade away, reuniting ad nauseam for PBS concerts and producing more tired music. And TV music shows -- like "American Idol" -- spawn even more tired music.

But wait, there's more. Nascent and aggressive satellite radio companies advertise a whole new explosion of music possibilities. Sirius promises 65 channels of music; XM offers 67. Oakley's Thump sunglasses contain a tiny digital music player, and cell phones everywhere ring to the opening bars of "Stairway to Heaven."

Music is a luxurious necessity. "There has never been a human culture existing or extinct that has not had music," says Mark Tramo, a neuroscientist at Harvard Medical School who believes that music is a universal language.

Certain melodies inspire, arouse, invigorate. Others provoke, insult, infuriate. As we've learned from watching decades of movies and TV shows, effective music can move us to tears and to cheers. It pumps up the color and texture of reality; the mundane morphs into art. We subconsciously listen for resolution in music, the way we naturally yearn for color-wheel answers in paintings and solutions to well-written mysteries.

Music can be oh so social -- uniting us, family-like in a harmonious unbroken circle of fellowship. "We Are the World" comes to mind. Music can also be divisive, serving as a wedge between cultures or genders. The misogynist "Superman" by Eminem, for instance. Ever since the first Walkman appeared in 1979, social scientists have railed against the alienation caused by personal music devices. And other scientists have warned us of the inevitable deafness and cerebral distraction.

We consume music and music consumes us. We are caught in the middle of a musical war. Whole industries are built on dumping music upon us, while others allow us to choose the music we want to listen to. The armies can be divided into those that overpower and those that empower. It's a battle royal for our ears, our brains, our bank accounts. As a result, never before has there been so much music -- good, bad, harmonic, atonal -- available.

As composer Libby Larsen puts it, "Recording technology has made us all digital democrats." Music today is free-flowing, intoxicating, addictive, and it's no wonder that some people, like Cabrera, just can't get enough of it.

Music on the Brain

They are -- Cabrera and his ilk -- the musicholics: disengaged folks with small, sleek digital players in their hands or pockets who, to varying degrees, need music like they need oxygen. They carry CD players and MP3 gadgets. Many depend on Apple iPods: 10 million have been sold since the device was introduced in November 2001. And there are more and more portable satellite radios and music-playing cell phones showing up on store shelves every day to feed the musical habit.

They are people like:

? Demisha Camp, 21, in a T-shirt and bluejeans, strolling through the Fashion Centre at Pentagon City. She's on her way to a hair salon where she works as a shampooer. She's listening to Faith Evans on her CD player. "I have to work with music," she says. "I can't focus without music or sound."

? Marsha Guery, 20, on the Green Line headed toward Howard University, where she is a fashion merchandising major. She's communing with Amarie on her Sony MiniDisc player. She likes to have music on all the time. Her parents often say to her: Get that music out of your ears! You're not paying attention! But she likes the feel of the sound. "When I walk down the street," she says, "I'm in my own little world."

? A woman in silver slippers at a back table in the upper Georgetown Starbucks. She is studying for a science exam and listening to music on her compact disc player. She loves to listen to music while doing other things, she says. On the table, a paperback textbook lies open. There is a full-page diagram of the human brain.

So apropos. The music, the brain, Starbucks.

Music is arguably the quickest, most immediate mass cultural auger into the brain. Sound streams through the ears to the auditory cortex, which links directly to the limbic system, the emotional clearinghouse. In a fraction of a second, your hearing's job is already accomplished. Then the mind and imagination take over. The sound is reshaped into more abstract representations of music. It conjures up notions of pleasure and displeasure, of desire and dissatisfaction, of memory and long-lost tinglings.

Neurologist Richard Restak says this pinball effect in the brain explains music's transcendence and power. It can "evoke an extremely intense experience," he says.

Neuroscientist Tramo says the research suggests that "all of us are able to apprehend music, that we 'get it' and that we can be manipulated by it."

And this explains why neuro-marketers -- lab-coated people who study the sweat patterns and heart rates of consumers under various circumstances -- are deeply intrigued by music's effects and how they can be used to manipulate us by the rhythm of a piece, the rise and fall of its structure, certain chord changes.

Sonic Sales Strategies

One of the new-school companies on the edge of manipulation-by-music is also one of the old-school originators of the idea.

Muzak, a name synonymous with syrupy, go-nowhere elevator music, has reinvented itself to take advantage of music's useful ubiquity. As we sift through the ever-expanding global jukebox to put together the soundtracks of our lives, Muzak -- along with firms such as DMX and Audio Environments -- is only too happy to help.

From its founding in 1934, Muzak has nearly always been ahead of the curve -- technologically and psychologically -- and its history tracks the ever-widening wash of available music.

In 1937 a couple of British psychologists asserted that music increased worker efficiency, and the idea of using it to bring order into the chaotic noise of factory machines really took off. According to the corporate Web site, Muzak.com, "World War II resulted in great growth for Muzak. As the whole country geared up for production, Muzak took a leading role in work-related music. Time and again, industrial psychologists found music improved morale, attendance and production." Soft Muzak was piped into offices and stores all across America.

In the late 1990s, Muzak reinvented itself into a New-Agey "experiential-branding" concern. The company shifted its focus from background music to foreground; all of a sudden the music wanted to be noticed, to work its influence on you, to implant "earworms" -- slang for musical phrases you can't get out of your head -- into the disc changer of your brain.

Today the South Carolina-based company has 3,000 employees and some 350,000 clients, including some abroad. About 100 million people undergo a Muzak attack every day. And Muzak pushes a high-concept plan called "Audio Architecture, " which means that Muzak would like to help companies use the emotional power of music to sell more products.

Audio Architecture is emotion by design, says Muzak's director of corporate communications Sumter Cox. "We are all about the future," says Cox, "and really what our product does is create an experience. We are a branding company."

Nearly every retail shop, he explains, has a logo and a certain look. Muzak wants to put a musical face on the place. Muzak consultants sit down with companies like Applebee's and LensCrafters and listen to their ideas of what they want to communicate about their brand image. Do they want to be perceived as macho or feminine, young or old, country or urban? Muzak then selects a specialized music program that helps "tell" the company's "story" and, as a result, enhance the consumer experience. The song list for Red Lobster, for instance, contains music that "embraces customers and makes them feel cared for and loved." The Muzak playlist includes Marvin Gaye, Sade and Simply Red. For LensCrafters, Muzak found music that exudes "assurance and independence," such as that of Norah Jones and Sting.

Popeyes fried chicken franchises are pre-wired with zydeco and upbeat rock. In these joints you can hear a cheery-voiced singer singing, "You're paying now, but it's all right!"

For some companies, such as Old Navy, Muzak sets up each store's sound system -- Klipsch speakers, Bose amps, etc. The "energy flow," Sumter Cox says, "is supposed to be a smooth consistent experience." An automatic timer lowers the volume in the morning hours and cranks it up for the midday onslaughts.

At lunch hour, the Aeropostale shop in the Fashion Centre at Pentagon City is resonating. Very loudly. A chain of ultra-casual clothing stores, it is one of Muzak's customers. Patrons, mostly young women, flit in and out of the shop like sparrows. Through the speaker system, the British duo appropriately named Frou Frou sings a light, airy "Must Be Dreaming." Nearby there's disco music at Sephora. Hip-hop at Up Against the Wall. Rap music bursts out of a kiosk selling XM Satellite Radio subscriptions. More music rains down from overhead speakers in the corridors. Cacophony rules.

Starbucks, with a small shop in the food court, is hoping to provide more and more music for your personal soundtrack. The Seattle-based coffee company reported in late May that it had sold 21,000 copies of Antigone Rising's "From the Ground Up" in 12 days from 4,400 U.S. stores.

Some of the businesses not only have tunes playing overhead but specially packaged music for sale. Williams-Sonoma sells its own CDs -- in a wall bin near the cutlery -- including one to play while you're eating dinner. Victoria's Secret has a rack of "road trip" CDs on its checkout counter. The Godiva shop offers, no kidding, a $12.99 disc titled "Melt: Music to Eat Chocolate By."

An Island of Sound

There is far too much music in the world, the late composer Virgil Thomson wrote in London Magazine. "I do not feel this because I get tired of musical sound itself. Musical sounds are always a pleasure. It is unmusical sounds masquerading as musical ones that wear you down, and the commercializing of musical distribution has given us a great many of these as a cross to bear. It has also given such currency to our classics that even these the mind grows weary of. Because though musical sound is ever a delight, musical meaning, like any other meaning, grows stale from being repeated."

He wrote that in 1962. Imagine how he would feel today in the halls of the Pentagon City mall.

Milan Kundera, author of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," writes that public music today has become "a flood of everything jumbled together" so that we don't know who composed it or when it begins or ends. It is "sewage-water music in which music is dying."

Neurologist Restak is sometimes overwhelmed. He rails against bookstores, for instance, that play loud, incongruous music. "They'll have something on there by the Doors," he says. "I can't look at a book in that situation."

As for shopping in the supermarket to Beach Boys music, Restak says, "To me it's dissonant. There is an emotional disconnect, a physical disconnect."

Music is fire. It can be warm and comforting. Or it can spread fast and move dangerously through the landscape. The musicholics have learned to fight fire with fire.

At the Georgetown Starbucks, as the silver-slippered woman listens to a CD while studying the brain, she is apparently oblivious to another layer of music in the caffeinated air -- the misty sounds of Antigone Rising.

At the Greenbelt Atlanta Bread Company, musicholic Roberto Cabrera listens to the technopoppish Rasmus on his iPod as he waits for his lunch. Overhead Muzak's classical music plays.

And when he goes to a mall and shops at Abercrombie & Fitch or Urban Outfitters, where music can be bursting through giant speakers, shaking the room and pressing on the chest as the stores and the corporations and the philosophies infiltrate his ears and seek out the tiniest, quietest corners of his life -- he likes to wear his iPod.

That way he gets to listen to the music he wants to, while walking at the pace he wants to, while choosing the polo shirts and jeans he wants to buy. And, he says, there is added value: Salespeople leave him alone.

? 2005 The Washington Post Company

2005-06-08T13:40:00.000-07:00

Chester Higgins Jr./The New York Times

June 5, 2005
Kicking Off Her Heels
By DAVID COLMAN

THERE is, of course, nothing like a stiletto. Spiky, dainty things, so complimentary to the foot and so alluring to the onlooker, they are so wildly uncomfortable for walking in the world that they function as a veritable badge of leisure.

Diane Von Furstenberg has been on the stiletto circuit longer than many, having embarked on an It Girl career some 30 years ago. She married Prince Egon Von Furstenberg. She invented the wrap dress. And she had so many licenses that even paper towels were scrawled with her signature. The 1980's were less, well, profitable. Today, married to her longtime friend Barry Diller, her dresses experiencing a heady revival and the Council of Fashion Designers of America presenting her with a lifetime achievement award tomorrow night, Ms. Von Furstenberg is standing glam and tall in heels again.

"Feet are so incredibly important," she said, like a character in Colette (the writer, not the store). "If I am going for a heel, the more uncomfortable, the better. You're going for attitude."

But stilettos will get you only so far ? like to a waiting Town Car. Which is why, when it comes to footwear, Ms. Von Furstenberg's favorite escape vehicle is a hiking boot. "I'm a Capricorn," she said. "I'm a climber. I'm a goat. I don't play tennis. I don't like arranged games. I like to do things where you can really go away. When you climb, you're silent."

Unlike those daring ladies who have scaled the Himalayas, Ms. Von Furstenberg does not go in for pitons, descenders and belay devices, being one of the garden-variety casual hikers whose ranks have exploded in recent memory. "I hike all the time," she said. "Barry and I have hiked in South America, in the Caribbean, the Mediterranean, in Africa."

So no mammoth Timberlands with lug soles for her, no Mad Rock rubberized climbing shoes. "I love Tevas, but if you step on rocks...." She shrugged, suggesting the worst. "It's all about feeling secure."

Her favorite is a pair from Lowa, the German hiking boot company ? the Klondike Mid GTX LS II, to be exact. At $150, they are one of Lowa's best sellers. As Gun Week magazine put it, "They are all-day-long comfortable."

Kitted out with a waterproof Gore-Tex liner, the boots are light ? just 1.1 pounds each ? yet sturdy enough to reinforce her foot and ankle. "It's all about the ankle," Ms. Von Furstenberg cautioned.

While hiking is in theory a total escape, she does take along work ? or rather, she takes her hikes back to work. Squirreling away leaves, sticks and shells in her pack, or taking photographs of them, is how she invents new fabric designs, she said.

And fashionista that she is, she sees a certain allure to a good hiking boot. "When you're hiking, you look glamorous if you look real," she said. "These are sexy in a weird way, because of the power they give you. You feel you can handle anything."

Fine for the country, but in the city, you don't want to get too secure. That's why stilettos are good: you have to stay on your toes.

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2005-06-08T11:19:00.000-07:00

Christoph Nieman

June 5, 2005
Portrait of the Artist as a 17th-Century Oprah
By CAROL KINO

SINCE the advent of the museum blockbuster in the 1970's, which helped usher in the concept of the museum as a must destination, art's growing popularity with the mainstream public has become something of a double-edged sword.

For those who have always considered themselves art lovers, the reactions tend to fall into two camps. There are the Pollyannas, delighted to see more people getting clued in to the joys of art. And then there are the skeptics - those who deplore the idea of art being used to pump up tourism, or who simply resent all those extra bodies getting in the way.

And now the popularization of artists and museums has yielded something else to feel ambivalent about: the first art-focused self-help book, "How Rembrandt Reveals Your Beautiful, Imperfect Self: Life Lessons From the Master."

Previous works by the author, Roger Housden, who wrote the best-selling "Ten Poems to Change Your Life," have celebrated poets like Rumi and Robert Bly. This time he metes out the pop-Buddhist-mysticism treatment to the life and work of the 17th-century Dutch master.

Mr. Housden's book is largely focused on Rembrandt's renowned self-portraits, in which he charted the changes in his visage from cocky youthful promise to destitute old age. The gist is that despite Rembrandt's all-too-human flaws, he at least had the courage to repeatedly face himself in the mirror - and we can learn from this example. To this end, Mr. Housden has shoehorned the master's life and work into six "lessons," with titles like "Open Your Eyes," "Troubles Will Come" and "Keep the Faith." It almost goes without saying that we encounter "the presence of angels" along the way.

Although museum officials might be expected to dismiss this book as a frivolous exercise, that doesn't seem to be happening. Its publication has been timed to coincide with the show "Rembrandt's Late Religious Portraits," which originated at the National Gallery of Art in Washington. It reopens Tuesday at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, and on Friday Mr. Housden is scheduled to give two gallery talks and hold two book signings there. Effectively that gives his book the museum's imprimatur. The reason? "Synergy between his new book and our new exhibition," said Cathryn Carpenter, the Getty's programming director. "It just seemed to fit so well."

And although skeptics might be appalled by the book's sentimentality, some among us may similarly find it hard to dismiss out of hand, because Rembrandt, in Mr. Housden's retelling, seems a weirdly savvy choice for a contemporary everyman figure.

Not only did the artist, after his wife's death, juggle what Mr. Housden terms a "blended" family, as well as two live-in romantic relationships, one of which disintegrated into ugly legal actions; he also managed to bankrupt himself by the age of 50 with out-of-control spending and an ill-advised real estate loan.

Better yet, the story of his descent and redemption takes place in 17th-century Amsterdam, soon after that city had spawned the world's first stock market. Certainly, the art world in which Rembrandt rose to fame seems remarkably like our own: it was driven by wide and eager collecting and rampant speculation, and offered so many artists and opportunities that no clearly dominant style emerged.

Indeed, Mr. Housden is not the first writer to seek inspiration in 17th-century Dutch art and life. In the last six years, many others have mined this golden age: think of "Girl in Hyacinth Blue" by Susan Vreeland, "Girl With a Pearl Earring" by Tracy Chevalier and "Tulip Fever" by Deborah Moggach. Each uses a portrait to dramatize the way individual lives can be mirrored and transformed when a person's image is transmuted into paint.

And for anyone who has ever sat through a high-stakes auction, where artworks often get applauded for the amount of money they bring, there seems nothing too terrible about encouraging more people to see creativity, struggle and personal inspiration, rather than dollar signs, when they look at paintings on museum walls.

Mr. Housden certainly does his bit by presenting Rembrandt as a tortured soul who was impelled to paint and act as the spirit moved him, whatever the consequences. Yet many will undoubtedly recoil at this portrayal, for if there is anything that makes Rembrandt seem truly contemporary, it is that, especially since his death, his life and body of work have always been marked by one constant: continual flux and reassessment. (This is also what makes him such a perfect pop-Buddhist subject.)

Though Rembrandt was greatly admired in his lifetime and beyond, he was initially viewed as something of an iconoclast because of his idiosyncratic choice of subject matter and style. Yet in the 19th century - another era when art was wildly popular, with a widespread audience to match - he was recast as a free-spirited Romantic genius, intent on pursuing his own bliss. (This is pretty much how Mr. Housden presents him today.) No wonder that from this point the number of paintings attributed to Rembrandt steadily increased, leaping from 377 in 1900 to 714 in 1923.

In 1968, the Dutch government began financing the Rembrandt Research Project, an association of scholars who set about sorting the real Rembrandts from the chaff. Since then, many works that earlier generations believed to be by the master himself - including at least one self-portrait - have been reidentified as the work of his multitudinous students and workshop assistants.

One result has been that in the last 20 years - what some might call the golden age of American skepticism - much ink has been spilled on Rembrandt reattributions and reassessments. Gary Schwartz, in his 1985 biography, "Rembrandt: His Life, His Paintings," asserted that the artist's aesthetic choices were often influenced by his patrons' tastes. Svetlana Alpers, in "Rembrandt's Enterprise: The Studio and the Market" (1988), illuminated his marketing strategies. And many shows organized since then have focused on what Rembrandt is or isn't, most notably the Metropolitan Museum's 1995 "Rembrandt/Not Rembrandt."

Mr. Housden's book includes a reading list, as well as an appendix noting all the places in this country where it is possible to see Rembrandt's paintings, including the Wynn Collection in Las Vegas. Yet it includes no nod to Ms. Alpers or Mr. Schwartz, and no mention of the Rembrandt Research Project.

As Simon Schama, author of the 1999 biography "Rembrandt's Eyes," once wrote in this newspaper, "Every generation gets the Rembrandt it deserves." If there is one lesson we can glean from Rembrandt's life and work today, it is probably that fervently held romantic beliefs are seldom based in reality. The publication of Mr. Housden's book underlines that in art, as in life, we tend to cling to them anyway.

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2005-06-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

Jeff Chiu/Associated Press

Craig Newmark

June 5, 2005
What eBay Could Learn From Craigslist
By RANDALL STROSS

THESE days, triple-digit annual growth rates are rare among major Web sites. Meet that rarity: Craigslist.

Exceptional, too, is the ability to draw 10 million unique visitors each month without ever relying on venture capital and equity markets. Or the ability to attain fourth place among general-interest portals without ever spending a penny on marketing.

Signal accomplishments, to be sure, fit for boasting in an annual report. But Craigslist is a privately held company that has no such reports, and no burning interest in the competitive fray. It does far more shrugging than boasting. Its management regards profits, which it has earned consistently since 1999, as merely the means to remain in control of its own destiny. Free of debt, it can do as it wishes to maximize what it calls its service mission without having to maximize profits. This is good news for its customers - that is, community members - and bad news for competitors whose shareholders are unlikely to regard community service as their own companies' raison d'?tre.

Until recently, Craigslist was the overlooked underachiever from that fertile class of 1995 start-ups. Like eBay, it began as a free community service that year, a little experiment in applying technology to community-building, not profit-seeking. Craigslist initially provided online listings of local events in the San Francisco Bay Area, the kind that could be found in an alternative newspaper. Visitors were encouraged to contribute, and they added the online equivalent of the mainstream newspaper's classified section. Software handled e-mail forwarding.

Unlike eBay, which is dedicated to removing geographic obstacles to trading and defines "community" along national boundaries, Craigslist thinks and acts locally, organizing listings city by city for merchandise, jobs, real estate, personals, events, volunteer opportunities and discussion forums. It has moved at its own idiosyncratic pace, waiting five years after its start to add a second city, Boston. Today, it has sites for 120 cities in 25 countries and serves up 2.4 billion pages a month.

Craig Newmark, its founder, was, and remains, protective of the noncommercial character of the site. In the early years, he ran it in his spare time with the help of other volunteers. Eventually, the traffic overwhelmed them; he quit his day job and imposed fees to pay for full-time stewardship. But he minimized the impact on the community by restricting the new charges to employers in San Francisco who placed job ads. Modest fees for employers in two other cities were added only last year, and only after Mr. Newmark invited Craigslist visitors to comment on the wisdom of the change; there were 3,000 remarks, all posted publicly. Today, 99.2 percent of Craigslist advertisements remain free.

If you're the publisher of a local newspaper, you're spending a lot of time thinking about Craigslist. Traditionally, local newspapers have derived 30 to 50 percent of their advertising revenue from the classifieds.

Surprisingly, the momentum of this online alternative with virtually free offerings had not drawn much attention as recently as last fall, when Creative Intelligence, a consulting firm based in Altamonte Springs, Fla., surveyed the newspaper industry. It discovered that many executives were unaware of the arrival of Craigslist in their own cities. Nor were all aware that aside from a sliver, ads on Craigslist were available free.

Late last month, Knight Ridder Digital announced its plan to finesse the challenge of free classifieds: it dropped fees for ads for merchandise posted on the Web sites of 22 of its newspapers. When you visit one of these sites and prepare to submit an ad, however, you must navigate past pitches for various fee-based upgrades. The basic ad is free, but after 500 characters, you pay $1.99. Bold face, another $1.99. A photo package, $3.99. And so on. ? la carte charges are the way business is done on eBay, but not on the commons of Craigslist. What part of "free" is difficult to understand?

Executives at eBay have their own reasons to lie awake thinking about Craigslist. EBay, the child prodigy that went the corporate route and became a publicly traded company at the age of 3, now faces sharply declining growth and that awful fate no prodigy is ever prepared for: middle age.

Data collected by Nielsen/NetRatings show that eBay's page views in April 2005 grew by less than half a percentage point, compared with the previous April. At Craigslist, page views grew 130 percent in the same period. According to the company's data, its traffic is now about a fifth of eBay's. And the operational efficiencies are astounding: Craigslist has 18 employees; eBay has 8,800.

Even though eBay's pockets are flush and it can afford to pay retail prices for acquisitions, like $620 million in cash for Shopping.com, announced last week, it must look ever further afield for growth.

One way is to use its technology infrastructure to improve classified advertising. Hani Durzy, a spokesman for eBay, says its core business is a "transaction marketplace," in which the sale is completed online with a binding contract.

In contrast to the "transaction marketplace," classifieds merely enable private parties to get in touch. Viewed in terms of technology and legalities, Craigslist provides nothing more than the newspaper classifieds. To consummate a deal, you're on your own.

But that seems to be all that its large and ever-growing base of fans desires. The offerings of Craigslist have never been more appealing, even though - or maybe because - it is retro in look and retro in its online technology. EBay uses an elaborate feedback apparatus to allow strangers who will never meet in person to feel safe doing business with one another. Craigslist does not need that apparatus. It is for locals only, and it is the one place that can fix you up with an entire life - job, shelter, furnishings, lover - at one stop, with minimal intermediation.

In August, eBay bought a 25 percent stake in Craigslist from a former Craigslist employee. Mr. Durzy said at the time that eBay was "interested in finding out how classified-style trading works."

THAT turned out to be an understatement. In February, eBay started Kijiji, a set of more than 50 international sites providing free classifieds, similar to Craigslist, in cities in Canada, China, France, Germany, Italy and Japan. By last month, the number had grown to 90, and eBay announced two related acquisitions that expanded the network. It is too soon to know how far eBay may go in copying the nonjudgmental approach of Craigslist's community discussions and sexually explicit personal ads.

In some cities, Kijiji and Craigslist co-exist, with Kijiji offering the local language and Craigslist offering English-only listings. Both companies maintain an official stance of being unconcerned about the likelihood of mutual competition ahead.

Were eBay interested, it could learn something else from Craigslist about doing business: how to reach decisions while consulting with its community, eliminating surprises and ill-considered choices. Mr. Newmark, who works full time performing customer-service chores, remains certifiably 100 percent hubris-free.

"Folks, we're considering charging apartment brokers for apartment listings in N.Y.C.," Mr. Newmark told the community earlier this year, explaining in great detail the pros and cons. He added that he would "need your help figuring out what I've missed."

Five years after the technology bubble burst, the success of Craigslist shows an enduring public appetite for online offerings that closely complement life lived off line. Being 99.2 percent free doesn't hurt either.

Randall Stross is a historian and author based in Silicon Valley. E-mail:ddomain@nytimes.com.

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2005-06-08T10:30:00.000-07:00

David Chelsea

June 5, 2005
A Bad Case of Puppy Love
By PETER DAVID MARKS

ALLY lived in Santa Monica. A mutual friend had fixed us up on a blind date. She said Ally was smart and fun. I said I appreciated the gesture, but I had my hands full. The mutual friend lowered her voice and added, "She has a terrific body." With that, my schedule cleared up, and I made a date.

I found Ally's condo and rang her doorbell. A pretty woman with a bounty of dark curls greeted me. She stuck out her hand, introduced herself and smiled. She had a great set of Chiclets.

As we shook, a little ball of fur sprang out of the shadows and barreled toward me. The dog was caramel-colored and not much bigger than a football. He hopped on his hind legs, barking at me in a high-pitched tone that sounded like a rubber sole squeaking on a basketball court. Oh, great, I thought. Another single girl over 30 with a drop-kick dog.

Ally picked him up and cradled him, speaking in a baby voice. "This is Rusty."

"What kind of dog is he?" I said, feigning enthusiasm.

"A toy poodle."

Rusty looked more marmot than dog, the kind you'd feed to larger critters. He flicked his tongue as he sized me up. I'd never had a pet growing up, but I knew how to play nice. I held out my hand. "Hey, little fella," I said.

Rusty leaned forward to sniff. Then he growled, a low menacing rumble from some dark, evil place in his furry chest. I jerked my hand back.

Ally went upstairs to get her purse. I watched her walk. She did have a terrific body. Rusty snarled at me. I gave him the finger.

Ally returned with her purse. "Goodbye, Rusty-pooter," she said, bending down to pet the little bugger. And then, to my horror, he licked her mouth and face. Marking his territory, I suppose. I tried to pet Rusty goodbye to show what a good guy I was, but he backed away. I half-expected him to open his mouth and say, "Bring her back before 11 or else."

Ally and I had cocktails and dinner. I liked her. I felt a connection. It was the drop-kick dog, I decided, that had to go. I drove her home and kissed her goodnight. It wasn't until after we'd kissed that I remembered her pooch slobbering all over her face only a few hours earlier.

ALLY and I spent a lot of time together over the next month. One night at Paco's Tacos I realized I'd fallen for her. Melted cheddar hung off her chin, and I reached over and wiped it off. Grooming, as I knew from the Discovery Channel, was a sure sign of affection in the animal kingdom. They say we're granted only one great romance in a lifetime. I wondered if this was it.

Ally invited me back to her apartment. I had a feeling this was the night we would consummate our relationship. I could barely contain myself. I attacked as soon as we got to her door, kissing and groping her like a 16-year-old. She smelled like quesadillas. She opened the door, and Rusty charged at us, bouncing in greeting.

"Back off," I said, swatting him away. "I paid for dinner."

Up in Ally's bedroom, it was finally just the two of us. A dozen candles burned, casting shadows across our naked limbs. I held her terrific body close to mine and whispered filthy things. Then I got a strange feeling we were not alone. I looked up. Rusty stood on the bed in rapt attention, tongue out, tail wagging.

"What's wrong?" Ally asked.

"I'm not doing this with him in the room!"

Ally laughed, then picked up Rusty and carried him to the door. "Rusty-pooter," she cooed. "You have to let Mommy alone right now." She put him down and closed the door. She smiled seductively and climbed back in bed. I wrapped my arms around her. Who's the master now, Rusty?

Rusty began to whine and scratch the door. I tried to block it out, but he wouldn't stop. He got louder and louder. "Ah-roooo! Ah-roooo!"

"Ignore him," she said, nibbling my ear.

It wasn't easy, but I soldiered on.

The next morning, I rolled over to kiss Ally and stared instead into a pair of chocolaty brown eyes set off by a hairy mug. Rusty lay on the pillow. He stuck out his tongue at me and yawned. Then he leapt off the bed and trotted out of the room. I don't know how he'd opened the door in the middle of the night. I didn't care. I'd slept with a dog.

Ally dragged Rusty along with us whenever she could. I was embarrassed to be seen in public with him. Women loved him, bending down to fawn over him while their male companions smirked at me. Why couldn't Ally own a real dog, like a golden retriever or a pit bull? The kinds of dogs we regularly encountered on our walks down Montana Avenue, tugging their owners behind them like water-skiers?

But over the next few weeks something amazing happened: that yappy sack of fluff began to break me down. I was over at Ally's nearly every night, but my time there increasingly was spent not with Ally but with Rusty.

First I discovered that petting him soothed me after a hard day. Then I learned how, after a large meal, it helped to sling him across my belly like a warm water bottle. Before long I was talking baby talk to Rusty and feeding him scraps from the dinner table despite Ally's objections. I even volunteered to walk him and pick up his poop. Ally was stunned.

So was I. I'd fallen for Rusty. I knew it, of course, when I began grooming him - picking food out of his beard, blow-drying him after it rained.

As my relationship with Rusty blossomed, cracks emerged in my romance with Ally. She was nosy. She was cheap. She never flossed.

I was no saint. I put myself first. I corrected her grammar. And when I felt my freedom threatened, I lashed out with mean-spirited remarks. But whenever I considered the prospect of ending our relationship, I broke into a cold sweat. It wasn't just about the two of us anymore. There was Rusty to consider.

I'm not sure when Ally suspected my affection had shifted. Was it the fact that whenever I visited her apartment, I greeted Rusty with a big hug before her? Or was it the time I returned from New York with Schlep the Camel, a toy for Rusty, but nothing for her?

Plus now I was the one trying to include Rusty in all of our plans, suggesting restaurants that allowed dogs, urging us to take long walks on the beach at sunset. At work, I found myself daydreaming about Rusty and wondering what he was doing at that very moment. I watched dog shows on cable.

I guess the real turning point came when I left the bedroom door open one night, eager for that wooly bundle of joy to race in and join us. I patted the spot next to me, inviting him to lie on me. Ally sat up in the dark and hissed, "Don't do that! He'll keep us up!"

"O.K.," I said. But once Ally began to snore, I patted the bed again. Rusty trotted up and laid his head on my chest. I slung my arm around him and fell asleep, arm in paw. The passion in my sex life with Ally had cooled, but I didn't care. I had Rusty.

One night Ally and I were watching TV in my apartment. Rusty was there, too, curled in my lap. I was drumming his paws when I felt Ally's eyes on me.

She asked, "Do you ever see us living together?"

"Sure," I said, trying to make the conversation go away.

"You know we've been together for a year now."

Had it been that long? It seemed like just yesterday I'd met Rusty. I scratched behind his ear. Boy, he's cute. I picked up Schlep the Camel and threw it. Rusty retrieved it. I was about to throw it again when Ally shouted, "Stop it!" She looked me right in the eye and said, "I need to know how you feel about me."

I didn't say anything for a good long time. I looked at Rusty. He rolled over for me to scratch his belly. I pictured life without him. It felt empty.

"I care deeply about you," I said.

"But you don't love me?"

"I don't know."

She nodded. Tears streamed down her face.

I felt sad, but my own tears wouldn't come. I watched in silence as Ally packed her things. Rusty looked on, too, wagging his tail, confused. Out came T-shirts, sweatshirts and slippers. Earrings, bracelets and hair clips. From the bathroom came hairbrushes, 20 different types of hair product, saline contact solution, even her toothbrush.

SHE had a lot of stuff. She had more stuff at my apartment than I did.

I tried to stay strong, but when she packed Rusty's food and water bowls, I started to question my decision.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this right now," I said, unpacking the bowls.

"Why?"

"We should wait," I said. "Give this more time."

Ally stuffed the bowls back into her bag and gathered her keys. Then she attached Rusty's leash, and to my chagrin he jumped with joy. He must've thought he was going for a walk.

I knelt and hugged Rusty. "Goodbye, buddy," I said. He licked my face.

They left the apartment. As they walked away, Ally stopped and turned around. She picked up Rusty and cradled him. She blinked away tears and said, "I really loved you."

I stared at Rusty, and then the tears that wouldn't come for so long finally erupted, spilling down my cheeks. I called out, "I loved you, too."

Peter David Marks is a screenwriter and documentary producer from Chicago. He lives in Los Angeles.

Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company Home Privacy Policy Search Corrections RSS Help Contact Us Back to Top

2005-06-08T09:38:00.000-07:00

Andy Rash

June 8, 2005
Less Cursing, Better Pictures: 10 Suggestions
By DAVID POGUE

RECENTLY, I was lying next to a hotel pool, keeping an eye on the children, when the guy on the next chaise swore like a sailor.

He was peering at his little digital camera, looking furious. I couldn't help myself. "Do you need help with that?" I asked.

"This is the stupidest camera," he said. "I've tried three times to take a picture of my son going off the diving board, but the delay is so bad, I miss it every time."

I knew he was talking about shutter lag, the maddening time it takes for most digital cameras to focus and calculate the exposure after you have squeezed the shutter button but before the shot is captured.

I nodded sympathetically. "And even the half-pressing trick doesn't work, eh?"

He looked at me as though I had just spoken Aramaic. "The what?"

Suddenly it dawned on me that this guy didn't know the half-pressing trick. He didn't realize that you can usually eliminate the shutter lag by half-pressing the shutter button before the action begins. The camera prefocuses, precalculates and locks in those settings as long as you continue to half-press. Then, when the child finally leaves the diving board, you press the rest of the way down to capture the shot. No lag - no lie.

The guy was so happy, he bought me a ginger ale.

I realized that day that the world could use a handy, clip-and-save digital camera primer - not so much an FAQ (frequently asked questions) list, but more of an FGA (frequently given answers) list. Here are 10 tips everyone should know:

1. End shutter lag. If your camera has a shutter-lag problem, the prefocusing trick may be your best bet. Another option: many cameras offer a continuous-focus option that eats up your battery faster but also reduces shutter lag by focusing constantly as you aim the camera (or as the subject moves).

Newer and more expensive cameras tend to have the least shutter lag, and digital single-lens reflex, or S.L.R., models (the big, heavy, $900-ish cameras that take interchangeable lenses) have none at all.

2. Don't believe the megapixel myth. More megapixels do not make a better camera.

Megapixels measure the maximum size of each photo. For example, a four-megapixel camera captures pictures made up of four million tiny dots. Trouble is, camera companies hawk megapixel ratings as though they are a measure of photo quality, and lots of consumers are falling for it.

In truth, the number of megapixels is a measure of size, not quality. There are terrible seven-megapixel photos, just as there are spectacular three-megapixel shots. (Lens and sensor quality are better determinants of your photographic results; too bad there are no easy-to-compare statistics for these attributes.)

Meanwhile, more megapixels means you have to buy a bigger, more expensive memory card to hold them. And you have to do a lot more waiting: between shots, during the transfer to your computer, and opening and editing.

Megapixels are something to think about only in two situations: when you want to make giant prints (20-by-30-inch posters, for example), and when you want the freedom to crop out a large portion of a photo to isolate the really good stuff, while still leaving enough pixels to make reasonably sized prints.

But if you don't edit your shots and don't need them larger than life, don't get caught up in the megapixel race. Four or five megapixels is a nice sweet spot.

(Bonus tip: Photos intended for display on the screen - the Web, e-mail, slideshows - don't need many pixels at all. Even a two-megapixel photo is probably too big to fit your computer screen without zooming out. High megapixel counts are primarily related to printing, which requires much higher dot density.)

3. Ignore digital zoom. In a further effort to market their way into your heart, camera companies also tout two different zoom factors: the optical zoom (usually 3X) and digital zoom (10X! 20X! 30X!).

Digital zoom just means blowing up the photo. It doesn't bring you closer to the action or capture more detail; in fact, at higher settings, it degrades your photo into a botchy mess. For best results, leave this feature turned off. The optical zoom number is the one that matters; it means a lens that brings you closer to the subject.

4. Ditch the starter card. Unfortunately, it's a universal practice to include a very low-capacity memory card with the camera-a teaser that lets you take a shot or two while you're still under the Christmas tree. But it fills up after only four or five shots.

When shopping for a camera, therefore, factor a decent-size memory card - 512 megabytes, for example - into the price.

5. Beware the format factor. Memory cards come in an infuriating variety of sizes and shapes. The least expensive formats are Compact Flash (big and rugged, about $55 online for a one-gigabyte card; available in capacities up to eight gigabytes) and SD (about $70 online for a one-gigabyte card; maximum two gigabytes).

Most Olympus and Fuji cameras require XD cards (about $85 online for a one-gigabyte card, the maximum), and most Sony cameras require either the Memory Stick Pro (about $90 online for a one-gigabyte card; maximum four gigabytes) or the smaller Memory Stick Duo (about $115 online for a one-gigabyte card; maximum two gigabytes).

Note, too, that you can also find memory-card slots built into laptops, palmtops, cellphones, game consoles, printers, photo-printing kiosks and other machinery. They are most likely to accommodate Compact Flash or SD cards. Memory Stick-compatible slots are less common, and XD slots are downright rare.

6. Do your research. Fortunately for you, the prospective camera buyer, the Web is filled with sites, including dpreview.com and dcresource.com, that do elaborate testing and reviews of every camera that comes along. Look them up before you buy; if you're pressed for time, at least read the intro and conclusion pages, and look at the sample photos.

7. Know your class. Please don't ask a technology columnist, "What digital camera should I buy?"

That's like asking, "What car should I buy?" or "Whom should I marry?" There just isn't a single good answer.

Cameras now come in several different classes with different pros and cons. There are card cameras, no larger than a Visa card and less than an inch thick (gorgeous and very convenient but with few manual controls and short battery life); coat-pocketable cameras (bigger, but still self-contained with built-in lens covers, longer battery life and more features); semipro zoom models (too big for a pocket but with built-in super-zoom lens ); and S.L.R. models (endless battery life, no shutter lag and astonishing photos).

8. Turn off the flash. A typical digital camera's flash has a range of about eight feet. In other words, using it at the school play does nothing but fluster the performers.

9. Turn on the flash. On the other hand, here's a great trick for when someone's face is in shadow: turn the flash on manually. Forced flash or fill flash brings your subject's face out of the shadows, and rescues many a portrait that would otherwise turn into a silhouette. (On most cameras, you turn the flash on or off by pressing a lightning-bolt button.)

10. Turn off the screen. The back-panel screen is, of course, one of the joys of digital photography. But it's also the No. 1 consumer of your battery power. If you're comfortable holding the camera up to your eye and peering through its optical viewfinder, turning off the screen while shooting can double the life of each battery charge.

There you have it - the 10 habits of highly effective digital camera owners. And may all your diving-board photos be lagless.

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2005-06-08T09:10:00.000-07:00

Sara D. Davis for The New York Times

WORKING - Dr. Mike Morris of Duke University Medical Center, photographs a wound before surgery.

June 8, 2005
USES
From Broken Bones to Decayed Buildings
By SANDEEP JUNNARKAR

TO his tools of the trade - surgical navigation equipment, intramedullary nails and plate and screw sets - Dr. Steven A. Olson, an orthopedic trauma surgeon at Duke University Medical Center, has added a simple two-megapixel camera.

When a patient is brought into the emergency room with, say, severe skeletal trauma, caused by a car accident or a shooting, one of the first steps for Dr. Olson's medical interns is to photograph the crushed bones and shredded tendons. The medical team then realigns the bones and applies a sterile dressing as a prelude to surgery.

In years past, Dr. Olson said, surgeons would have removed the dressing each time they wanted to study the damage to plan the surgery. Now, the resolution of the images taken with the camera is enough to provide fine detail of the injury from various angles.

"We can leave the wound covered in the meantime, so there is no continual contamination from exposure to the outside environment," Dr. Olson said. "By using the images, we can make a treatment plan for this patient."

Digital cameras - praised as one of the most rapidly adopted consumer gadgets - are finding usefulness in a variety of professions that traditionally have little or nothing to do with photography.

"In the consumer realm, our in-boxes are being flooded with baby pictures," said John Maeda, a professor of media and science at the Media Lab at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. "But in the professional realm, it is transforming professional fields because it is so easy to discuss something not simply based on text - which is what we were limited to before."

A Teacher's Pet

Rebecca Rupert, a language arts and communications teacher at Aurora Alternative High School in Bloomington, Ind., brought digital photography into her classroom with a big splash. Last month, the students in her civil rights literature class went beyond their assigned readings by traveling to Montgomery, Selma and Birmingham in Alabama and to Memphis to photograph their impressions of a region inextricably linked to the civil rights movement. Back in class, the students transformed their snapshots into photo essays, supplemented by text.

"Having visual literacy is really important and I try to bring that into my classes as much as possible," Ms. Rupert said. "I want kids to be able to use visual medium to express themselves and to communicate in words what they are seeing - it is another kind of knowing."

More schools have incorporated digital cameras across their curriculums. In higher grades, students use them to document science experiments, while younger children illustrate alphabet books by taking pictures of objects familiar to them. Teachers often prepare instruction booklets for their students with easy-to-follow steps illustrated with photographs.

Some teachers fret that if digital cameras are not part of a classroom, the digital divide will widen. But they note that digital cameras are one of the most affordable technologies. "Most school budgets can provide some digital cameras for every school, as opposed to more expensive, sophisticated technology," said Sandy Beck, an instructional technology specialist at Forsyth County Schools in Georgia.

Imagining Home

At 745 Fox Street in the Bronx sits a dilapidated but landmark-designated building dated 1850. Developers have proposed constructing a low-income housing complex to rise behind the old building. But they must first show the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission that the new structure will not obscure the landmark building.

Tony Shitemi, an architect with Urban Architectural Initiatives in Manhattan, which designed the housing complex, enlisted the help of a digital camera to show how the building's historical value would be preserved. Using image editing software, Mr. Shitemi spliced the rendering of the new building onto the picture of the old building - which was also digitally restored.

Other fields that create living and working spaces, like construction and interior design, are also integrating the use of digital cameras. Interior designers can photograph sofas at furniture stores, for example, then hold up the liquid crystal display within a room they are arranging to visualize how well the design works.

HNTB, an engineering, architecture and construction management company in Kansas City, Mo., oversees projects that can extend over a decade. When building highways, HNTB feeds panoramic digital photographs into a database to allow clients to see how the work is progressing without visiting the site.

The Picture of Health

Skin conditions are often the first sign of H.I.V. infection. But in sub-Saharan Africa - where AIDS is a full-blown epidemic - dermatologists are a rarity. To bridge the gap, Dr. Roy M. Colven, the head of dermatology at the Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, studies the digital images and written descriptions e-mailed to him by primary-care doctors in South African provincial hospitals. He received a Fulbright Award last year to set up a long-distance consulting program based in Cape Town, where he is working for another month.

This way, from his office at the University of Cape Town, Dr. Colven "sees" about 12 patients a month, a number that is steadily growing.

Dr. Colven, who uses a four-megapixel camera, said the resolution was good enough for effective diagnosis of skin diseases. "It is relatively low resolution," he said, "but this spares file size on a relatively low bandwidth e-mail system."

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2005-06-07T21:24:00.000-07:00

Jennifer S. Altman for The New York Times

Next stop, Kidville: Andy Stenzler and Shari Misher Stenzler, second from right, with Laurie Tisch.

June 5, 2005
Children, and Moms, at Play
By ALEXANDRA WOLFE

BEFORE her daughter was born, Jodi Della Femina's week stretched out full of opportunities to fit in the little things. In addition to four visits a week to the celebrity-friendly Radu gym, there was time for manicures and pedicures.

But the arrival of little Annabel Kim two years ago put an end to that. Now Ms. Della Femina gets her exercise from pushing a stroller and taking an occasional mother-baby yoga class. Manicures and pedicures are now done on an emergency basis.

"Pampering takes the back burner when you have a child," said Ms. Della Femina, 37, a writer of books about the Hamptons. "You're not going to get waxed anymore, because there's nowhere to put your baby, and there aren't a whole lot of mommy-baby spinning classes, at least at this age."

Ms. Della Femina sees help in sight. This October, Citibabes, one of a number of new private clubs for children (and their parents) is to open in SoHo near her home. For specially selected people like Ms. Della Femina, who is one of 19 people on Citibabes' board, membership will mean that they no longer have to decide between a bikini wax and baby ballet.

Children will enjoy classes in cooking and foreign language, as well as an indoor playground in a 10,000-square-foot space on Mercer Street. And while the tiny ones enjoy their diversions, mothers can visit the club's wellness center, gym or spa. There will be a lounge with a concierge to make restaurant reservations, and a cafe will offer meals with extra folic acid for prenatal and postpartum mothers.

In an age when mothers struggle to nurture their children's happiness and accelerated development while at the same time remaining socially viable and a size 4, clubs like Citibabes are the latest in parental indulgence. Equal parts Gymboree and Soho House, the clubs offer novel learning opportunities for children alongside pampering opportunities for mothers and fathers (not to mention social networking).

"I'm counting the seconds until Citibabes opens," said Jill Kargman, co-author of the novels "Wolves in Chic Clothing" and "The Right Address," who is another founding member of the club.

In New York, Citibabes joins Kidville, a 20,000-square-foot space on the Upper East Side that opened in January. Unlike Citibabes, to which only 1,000 will be invited to be founding members at $1,250 a year, Kidville is open to any family with a child enrolled in a class. Fees begin at $595 a semester.

In Los Angeles, Nana's Garden, which opened 10 months ago in West Hollywood, charges $90 a month for membership and is open to everyone.

All three clubs charge separately for an assortment of personal services and children's activities like tarot card readings at Nana's Garden and "Calling All Future Oscar Winners" parties at Kidville, in which the children walk down a red carpet and perform in a theater.

While many adult members of the clubs extol their convenience and the community they find there, some worry about the message it sends. "I'm against the whole concept," said Ren?e Rockefeller, a 36-year-old mother of four who took her 2-year-old son, Teddy, to Kidville. After a few classes, she pulled him out. "It's too urban, over the top," Mrs. Rockefeller said. "I just don't think that all of a sudden marketing to kids and their mothers works. It's hard sitting at the table and keeping kids quiet because it requires effort on the part of the parents, but that's your job. No one said it was going to be easy."

SITTING in the offices of the Citibabes architect, Garrett Gourlay, the club's founders, Tara Gordon and Tracey Frost, examined a model of their yet-to-be-completed project. The entrance has a member check-in "inspired by nightclub entrances," said Michael Etzel, Mr. Gourlay's collaborator. The lobby will include retail space and, past the check-in desk, the cafe. "It will be a place to see and be seen," Mr. Etzel said.

As Ms. Frost, the mother of 2-month-old Natasha, described it, Citibabes is for "that person who still wants to live in their downtown loft and have coffee at Pastis."

The design is a long way from Romper Room. "It's going to be a sophisticated palate," said Ms. Gordon, the mother of a 2-year-old son, Holden. "I took Holden to Barneys and he was so fascinated with the things that moved, like the silver on the clothes, that it made me realize you don't need all that bright Fisher-Price stuff."

While the owners of both Kidville and Nana's Garden stress that they are open to anyone who can pay the fees of about $1,200 a year, Ms. Gordon and Ms. Frost see Citibabes' invitation-only membership as key to its appeal.

"People might be frustrated at first that it's members-only," said Ms. Della Femina, who is joined on the Citibabes board by the designer Cynthia Rowley and Amanda Cutter Brooks, a former creative director of Tuleh, another fashion label. "But I think that unfortunately in New York there is a necessity to keep things small, because otherwise you can't enjoy it. There is something nice about having that small community."

Ms. Kargman, who has a baby sitter for 2-year-old Sadie from 1 to 5 p.m., plans to be at Citibabes after that during what she called the "zombie zone" before Sadie's bedtime.

"It's companionship for me because I always feel so lonely then," she said. "I'll be there two to three times a week for singing with my daughter, and then there's that beauty bar."

"Motherhood is not enough to forge a friendship," Ms. Kargman, 30, said. "There's this whole idea of 'we both bore fruit so let's be best friends,' but with this club, proximity will bring intimacy. It makes the pool a lot smaller than every mom pushing a Bugaboo on Madison."

Peter Stearns, a social historian and the author of "Anxious Parents: A History of Modern Childrearing in America" (New York University Press, 2003), said the development of such clubs "reflects parents' status concerns and their anxiety also." Not only do the clubs reveal that parents think the outside world is dangerous and that children must be sheltered, he said, but "it's clearly an effort to teach social class pretty early."

It's the "mini-me syndrome," said Lucy Sykes, a social figure and new mother, who created a clothing line, Lucy Sykes Baby, which will be sold at Citibabes. "There are so many yuppie families like us who want to project their own image onto their children," she said. "They want babies to be sophisticated." Regardless, Citibabes and the other clubs are a sign of the times, a cultural moment when affluent parents are raising children in big cities rather than moving to the suburbs, and don't want to give up the fast-paced lives they had before offspring arrived. Fairchild, the publisher of W magazine, plans to bring out Cookie magazine this fall - its promotional ads show young parents in evening wear with the tagline "A lifestyle magazine for sophisticated parents."

Pilar Guzm?n, Cookie's 35-year-old editor in chief, compares the new clubs to day care options available in many European countries for free. "If you can get around the elitism and the fact that they cater to a certain kind of woman, kids' clubs reinforce the idea that pampering yourself and being a good parent are not mutually exclusive," she said. "Whatever criticism these clubs are getting, the basic philosophical kernel shouldn't be criticized."

Shari Misher Stenzler, who started Kidville with her husband, Andy Stenzler, a co-founder of the Cos? sandwich chain, said she got the idea for it one day as she was stumbling down the stairs with her stroller to get to a 45-minute children's class on the Upper East Side.

"I realized there has to be something better," said Ms. Stenzler, an owner of London Misher Public Relations. "By the time you get to the class, you want to stay awhile. There was no place that was a one-stop shop."

Before Kidville opened, 1,000 families had signed up; after six months, there are 2,000 members. The club's transformation from a parking garage to a Candyland-like playground cost $3 million. Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf, as well as Laurie Tisch, founder of the Children's Museum of Manhattan, and Emanuel Stern, the developer of the Soho Grand Hotel, are among the Stenzlers' partners in the business.

Nana's Garden was started by the actress Joely Fisher, her sister, Tricia Leigh Fisher, and their mother, Connie Stevens. It has attracted celebrities like Laura Dern, Jenny McCarthy and Heather Mills, who is married to Paul McCartney. The former talk show host Ricki Lake likes to get tarot readings while her son Owen plays in the garden.

"It was really thought-provoking," Ms. Lake said. "What a great concept to get a great reading and to know that my kid is taken care of."

Tricia Fisher said she was inspired to create the club because young mothers need "a hangout place."

"Now moms stroll in here all day and they've met a whole crowd of cool, young conscious moms," she said.

"I think people feel excluded from hip places in L.A." when they have children, Ms. Fisher added. "And having membership gave it a vibe where you feel safe, like it's your place, your local place."

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2005-06-07T20:23:00.000-07:00

Reddin and Perez: Love on parole
photo: Carol Rosegg

Marathon 2005: Program B
Plays by Cherie Vogelstein, David Lindsay-Abaire, and David Mamet
Ensemble Studio Theatre
549 West 52nd Street
212.352.3101

The second bill of one-acts in this year's Ensemble Studio Theatre Marathon consists of three plays by different writers, all of which work variants on that old entertainment standby, the Eternal Triangle: one man, one woman, and one obstacle to their happy communion. The plays vary as widely in quality as they do in tone, but their overall vitality gives the evening a heartening feel: It's nice to know there's still something left for writers to find in the most overworked of all dramatic topics.
The best item of the evening is also its last and its darkest, a somber poison pill at the bottom of what is otherwise largely a fluffy dessert dish: David Mamet's Home. The title, as you've already guessed, is brutally ironic. Following two plays that mainly deal with courtship, Mamet's focuses on a marriage that has gone rotten. Robert (Victor Slezak) and Claire (Katherine Leask), both busy pursuing careers, seem to have ceased to care for each other almost entirely. When not bickering, in fragmented speeches full of repetition and crisscross, they address each other in those haughty, flatly abstract Mamet sentences that suggest the verbal equivalent of people whacking each other over the head with slats of plywood. (She: "I find unfortunate your formed and perfectly measured expressions." He: "The problem is not my expressions, the problem is you loathe me.")
Here the apex of the triangle is the couple's daughter, offstage and never seen?an obstacle not to the couple's getting together but to their breaking apart. Clues in the text tell us that little Nora?talk about names with ironic significance?has already been deeply damaged by the tension in this house; she needs both medication and an inhaler. Robert has been offered a new and better-paying job that involves transfer to another city; Claire, steeped in her own work, is just as determined to stay where she is, and keep her daughter with her. Threats, lawsuits, and shrill confrontations flare up before the play's three brief scenes, running a taut 20-odd minutes, come to what isn't so much an ending as a sort of disgruntled collapse, leaving the couple in the same miserable state where they started, only with a little more resentment to fuel their future bickering. Curt Dempster's staging keeps this emotional ping-pong match active but never needlessly busy. Leask, whom I've never seen before, gives a striking performance of a woman driven to the edge of shrewishness and hating herself for it; Slezak, cunningly, plays her soft-spoken Mr. Nice Guy of a spouse in ways that constantly suggest the bully hiding beneath his pose of victim.
Home's relentless negativity, its almost eager plunge into the hatred that two people can work up for each other, makes a paradoxically exhilarating finish to an evening in which the fun-making of the first two-thirds is rather sad. The characters in the two preceding plays are love-struck sad cases, their situations stretched by the authors beyond probability. David Lindsay-Abaire's

Crazy Eights, which shares the evening's second half with the Mamet, is the simplest and lightest work of the trio, with only a few verbal flickers and twists of event to show off its author's odd penchant, familiar since Fuddy Meers, for merging innocent whimsy with a faintly morbid appetite for the grotesque. The unloving couple of Crazy Eights are a first-offense druggie trying to get straight (Rosie Perez) and her helpless doofus of a parole officer (Keith Reddin), whose idea of keeping tabs on her is to break into her apartment to make sure she's home by curfew. You can imagine neighborhoods in which his behavior would be found less whimsically appealing than Lindsay-Abaire's view of it.
Once the gigantic initial implausibilities are out of the way, though, the relationship is treated more or less convincingly. And since the three characters, in Brian Mertes's fluid, easygoing production, are all played by genuinely appealing actors, the short and straightforward piece becomes easy enough to like. Rosie Perez, playing the resentful parolee with an arrowlike directness of purpose and dignified, unforced pathos, brings her character genuine emotional intensity. Keith Reddin, stuck with the more improbable role of a legal bureaucrat out of a vaudeville sketch, gives it dimension with his ready supply of wistful gentility. And Tom Pelphrey invests the third character blocking Reddin's efforts with a show-stealing, slack-jawed amiability, so charming it takes a while for you to realize that his character is merely another variation on the gay best friend as Fairy Godmother, as predictable as all the other stuff on which Lindsay-Abaire spins his whipped-cream-plus-acid variants.
Cherie Vogelstein's Love Is Deaf, an hour-long piece that occupies the first half of the bill, is like a string of interlocking triangles, a would-be comedy in which A loves B who loves C who loves D. Every now and then Vogelstein gets off a tolerable joke, but her notion of the vagaries of love?which tends to drive her characters to near-suicidal acts of despair?is even more cartoonishly whimsical than Lindsay-Abaire's, and she doesn't have his ability to spin his whimsies away lightly. Nor has director Jamie Richards provided her with a cast skilled at displaying their emotional dementias gracefully, though Grant Shaud and Geneva Carr, as the play's principal repositories of angst, do tolerably well