Art and baseball
Giants baseball … torture! I am not a long-suffering San Francisco Giants fan. I’ve paid some attention to pro baseball for the last 25 years or so, loosely following the teams my friends liked and investing in any particularly dramatic storylines (from the 1988 Dodgers to the 2004 Red Sox). But as a lifelong NBA junkie my rooting energies have mostly been expended on basketball—first for the Lakers, then (after I grew a soul) for the Sacramento Kings. It wasn’t until the 2007 season that I began to develop an allegiance to the Giants, thanks in part to a Kings team in decline and in part to regular trips to AT&T Park for home games with my baseball-obsessed bro-in-law, Tom. So, even though I feel slightly guilty for bypassing years of pain and jumping on the cable car 50 or so seasons after the team first landed out West, I have had a blast this torturous/nail-biting/wait-until-the-final-out season. I am beyond stoked to cheer on The Freak, The Beard, rookie stud Buster Posey and Cody Flippin’ Ross! as they begin the National League Championship series vs. the Phillies this weekend.
Just call me Buster Given the surge of interest in the Giants and especially Posey, I was beyond flattered when CN&R food writer Henri Bourride sent me an excited e-mail saying he thought I looked like the Giants’ badass catcher. It’s a much better comparison than the pasty-faced no-necks to whom I am usually likened—guys like Ricky Gervais or the late John Ritter—and now I’m a little obsessed with whether it’s apt. So, play along: Put on your Energy Domes and try to match the four faces to the four names. Send your answers to me and make my day.
Not raining, just pouring Sometimes it is impossible to highlight in one newspaper every cool thing happening in Chico in a given week. Everything gets a listing in the calendar, but sometimes really, really great events that deserve extra don’t get it. A list of things that deserve at least a tiny bit of extra ink: folk legends The New Christy Minstrels at the State Theatre in Oroville (Thursday, Oct. 14); Too Many Banjos, 15 minutes of impromptu banjo pickin’ by Gordy Ohliger, John Glick and more at the Franz Cilensek art bench in front of Magna Carta downtown (Friday, Oct. 15, 4 p.m.); Bay Area hip-hop/jazz supergroup Jazz Mafia Symphony at Laxson (Friday, Oct. 15); Crazy Horse-informed Brooklyn indie-rockers We Are Country Mice at The Maltese (Friday, Oct. 15); two nights of multiband heaviosity at Ol’ Hawk Eyes Art Shackle (Saturday, Oct. 16 and Tuesday, Oct. 19); and, finally, folk-pop duo The Weepies at the El Rey Theatre (Sunday, Oct. 17).
It saddens me to share that earlier this week, local musician Brad Nalbone was found dead in his home. He was 25 years old. I didn’t know Nalbone that well. I played basketball with him occasionally with a group of friends that has been meeting on the courts behind the Dorothy F. Johnson Center every Sunday for years. A sweet, quiet guy with a quick smile, he was as friendly a person as he was a force on the court. He could’ve played any three of us by himself and won. He was also a great guitarist who played with local bluegrass outfit Good Luck Tumwater, and he was a regular referee for local pro wrestling matches. In fact, Joey Moshri, a friend of Nalbone’s since junior high, said that the two had planned on working together on a pro-wrestling musical in the next year. “He was an amazing guy and I’ll miss him badly,” Moshri said.
The Butte County Coroner’s Office says the cause of death won’t be determined for another month or so.