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lignes2frappe · 3 years

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40 ANECDOTES GHETTO SUR « THE WIRE », LA PLUS GRANDE DES SÉRIES TÉLÉ

Plus de douze ans après la diffusion du dernier épisode, les rues de Baltimore recèlent encore bon nombre de secrets...

1. Pour créer The Wire, les producteurs et scénaristes David Simon et Ed Burns se sont grandement inspirés de leur précédent projet The Corner, une mini-série qui documente les conditions de vie dans les ghettos de Baltimore.

2. Simon et Burns se sont également appuyés sur leurs expériences professionnelles passées pour donner corps à la série : Simon a travaillé pendant de nombreuse années comme journaliste à la rubrique faits divers du quotidien local Baltimore Sun, Burns a été détective puis enseignant dans une école publique de la ville.

3. De nombreux des acteurs ont auditionné pour un rôle différent de ceux qu’ils jouent à l’écran.

Idris Elba (Stringer Bell) avait initialement postulé le rôle d’Avon Barksdale. Robert Wisdom se serait bien imaginé en Stringer Bell avant de se voir proposer le rôle du sergent réformateur Howard ‘Bunny’ Colvin. Gbenga Akinnagbe (Chris Parlow) a passé des essais pour interpréter Marlo Stanfield. Jamie Hector (Marlo Stanfield) a failli être engagé pour être l’ex-taulard Dennis ‘Cutty’ Wise. Isiah Whitlock Jr. enfin, le très corrompu sénateur Clay Davis, aurait pu être vu sous les traits du très méthodique détective Lester Freamon.

4. Soucieux de ne pas ternir l’image de la ville, l’ancien maire de Baltimore Martin O'Malley ne voyait pas d’un très bon œil le tournage de The Wire. À ce titre il a téléphoné en personne à David Simon pour lui suggérer d’inclure dans ses intrigues certaines de ses réalisations.

Face à son refus, il aurait alors demandé à sa police de faire preuve de zèle en arrêtant les membres au moindre incident (traversée en dehors des passages cloutés, flânerie dans les pacs, refus d’obtempérer...).

Ces arrestations n’ont pas été sans conséquence puisqu’elles ont retardé à plusieurs reprises le tournage.

5. À la demande des services de police il est toutefois arrivé aux showrunners de lever le pied sur certains détails. Le Baltimore Police Department craignait en effet de voir certaines de ses faiblesses révélées au grand jour (notamment en matière de traçage de téléphones mobiles) et de permettre grâce à cela aux criminels de déjouer ses enquêtes.

6. Pour plus de réalisme, de nombreux personnages de The Wire sont nés en croisant les biographies de personnes ayant réellement existé : les caïds Avon Barksdale et Marlo Stanfield, Stringer Bell (qui tire son nom aux truands Stringer Reed et Roland Bell), le tueur à gage Wee-Bey Brice, le policier Bunk Moreland, le clodo informateur Bubbles, Omar (qui emprunte à pas moins de cinq différents braqueurs), le maire Tommy Carcetti et même le frère Mouzone.

7. Fait pour le moins cocasse : le policier Jay Landsman qui a inspiré le sergent-détective superviseur du même nom (interprété par Delaney Williams) joue également un rôle dans la série (le totalement fictionnel major Dennis Mello dans la saison 5).

8. L’un des gangsters les plus célèbres de Baltimore peut être vu dans The Wire.

Roi de l’héroïne dans les années 60/70, Melvin ‘Little Melvin’ Williams a en 1985 été condamné pour trafic de cocaïne suite à une enquête menée par... Ed Burns. À cette occasion David Simon avait d’ailleurs rédigé pour le Baltimore Sun un long format en cinq parties intitulé Easy Money: Anatomy Of A Drug Empire.

Libéré de prison en 2003, Williams interprète dans les saisons 3 et 4 Deacon (« le Diacre »), un médiateur entre les dealeurs et les toxicomanes.

9. Dans un registre similaire, impossible de ne pas mentionner Felicia ‘Snoop’ Pearson alias Snoop dans la série, alias « la femme la plus terrifiante de la télévision » selon Stephen King, qui l’année de ses 14 ans été condamnée pour meurtre au second degré, et qui en 2011 en a repris pour sept ans (avec sursis) après avoir été arrêtée pour trafic de drogue lors d'un raid de la DEA.

10. Suite à son arrestation, le juge lui a dans un premier temps refusé d’être libérée sous caution au motif que ses talents d’actrice lui permettaient possiblement d’échapper aux autorités.

Extrait : « Il se trouve que j’ai regardé les épisodes de The Wire dans lesquels vous êtes au générique. Vous avez l’air aujourd’hui très différente, et je ne dis pas ça à cause de votre tenue. Votre apparence générale n’est absolument pas la même. »

11. Le générique de The Wire reprend la chanson Way Down in the Hole écrite par Tom Waits en 1987 pour son album Franks Wild Years.

À l’exception de la saison 2 qui réutilise la version originale, toutes les autres saisons proposent une réinterprétation : The Blind Boys of Alabama (un groupe de blues pour la S1), The Neville Brothers (un groupe de funk pour la S3), DoMaJe (une chorale d’adolescents originaires de Baltimore pour la S4) et Steve Earle (un chanteur country pour la S5).

12. Chaque épisode démarre systématiquement par une citation sur fond noir tirée des dialogues à venir.

Parmi les plus mémorables on peut se souvenir de « The king stay the king » de D’Angelo, « … a little slow, a little late » d’Avon, « All in the game! » d’Omar, « The Gods will not save you » d’Ervin Burrell ou encore « We fight on that lie » de Slim Charles.

13. Clark Johnson qui dans la saison 5 interprète le rédacteur en chef Augustus ‘Gus’ Haynes a réalisé le pilote de The Wire ainsi que le tout dernier épisode.

14. C’est peu dire que la diffusion en interne du premier épisode a provoqué des remous au sein de la distribution. Jugé lent et poussif, il a désespéré une partie des acteurs au point que certains d'entre eux sont partis demander à leurs agents de les sortir de cette galère (Wendell Pierce/Bunk, Sonja Sohn/Kima, Isiah Whitlock/Clay Davis...).

15. Les fameux immeubles aperçus en fond du point de vente où opèrent Bodie D’Angelo, Wallace & Co. ont en réalité été rajoutés digitalement après coup – ce qui à la revoyure saute quand même pas mal aux yeux.

16. Le célèbre canapé orange sur lequel Bodie D’Angelo, Wallace & Co passent le plus clair de leur temps a été déniché dans une décharge. La production a ensuite dépensé 5 000 dollars pour le faire répliquer à l’identique.

17. Loué pour la qualité de ces dialogues, The Wire ne doit sur ce point précis rien à ses acteurs : il leur était tout bonnement interdit d’improviser sur le tournage – et ce principalement afin d’éviter que ces derniers soient tentés de s’inventer des gimmicks.

Seule et unique exception à la règle : le cultissime « Sheeeeeeeee-it » de Clay Davis/Isiah Whitlock Jr.

18. Dominic West est passé à deux doigts de refuser d’incarner Jimmy McNulty et ce parce qu’il n’était pas très emballé de passer les cinq prochaines années de sa vie à Baltimore. Son agent a cependant su la convaincre en lui avançant comme argument que, parti comme c’était parti, la série ne durerait « pas plus d’une saison ».

19. Si West est ensuite très peu présent dans la saison 4, c’est parce qu’il souhaitait passer plus de temps avec sa fille née l’année du tournage en Angleterre. Il a alors négocié un contrat avec la production stipulant que toutes ses scènes devaient être tournées en trois semaines et qu’il pourrait en sus réaliser un épisode.

Reste qu’à en croire ses déclarations ultérieures, West semble avoir pas mal regretté son choix : « J’ai réussi à être quasi absent de la meilleure saison. Je réfléchis comme un idiot. »

20. Andre Royo a failli ne jamais auditionner pour le rôle de Bubbles.

« Ce personnage me posait doublement problème. De un, je ne voulais pas jouer un stéréotype, je ne voulais pas saborder ma carrière. Et de deux, je ne pensais pas être en mesure de faire mieux que ceux qui avant moi avaient joué ce genre de rôle. »

21. Kima aurait dû mourir à la fin de la saison 1 suite au guet-apens tendu par Wee-Bey et Little Man. Sonja John a cependant fait des pieds et des mains auprès de la production pour que ce ne soit pas le cas.

Sachant cela, voilà qui explique très certainement pourquoi celle qui au départ faisait partie des personnages principaux a vu son temps de présence considérablement chuter puisqu’il n’avait jamais été question qu’elle continue l'aventure.

22. L’expression « good police » très régulièrement entendue dans la bouche de différents agents des forces de l’ordre est directement empruntée à l’argot de la police de Baltimore.

23. Au cours de toute la série, seul un policier se sert de son arme, Roland Pryzbylewski.

‘Prez’ fait toutefois feu à trois reprises : une première fois par mégarde dans un mur, une deuxième fois en riposte à des tirs et une troisième fois sur l’un de ses collègues.

24. Dans la célèbre Fuck fuck fuck scene (S1E4) où Bunk et McNulty inspectent les lieux d’un meurtre en ne prononçant en tout et pour tout qu’un seul mot, ledit F-word et ses variations est entendu 37 fois (« Fuck. Fuck me. Mother fuck. Fuckity fuck. »).

Petit bijou d’interprétation, la scène n’a pas été des plus simples à tourner à en croire le réalisateur Clement Virgo : « Je voulais que ça ressemble à la scène de douche de Psycho. Je voulais que ce soit parfaitement filmé. Avec notre cameraman, Uta, nous avons tout tourné à l’épaule, elle n’en pouvait plus. Il ne fallait louper aucun détail, que le téléspectateur comprenne tout ce qui se passait dans l’histoire ».

25. Étonnamment, Idris Elba n’a jamais été vraiment à l’aise avec son personnage, et ce pour des questions d’ordre moral.

« Je ressens un problème quant à la glorification d’un dealeur et la fascination qu’éprouve l’Amérique pour ce monde (...) J’ai des enfants, je me sentais particulièrement inconfortable d’être associé à un tel personnage. »

26. Si vous vous êtes toujours demandé quels sont les livres de chevet de Stringer Bell, un youtubeur s’est amusé à zoomer sur sa bibliothèque entrevue dans l’épisode où McNulty et Bunk perquisitionne son domicile après sa mort.

Économie (La Richesse des nations d’Adam Smith), management (L’Entreprise libérée de Tom Pete), stratégie d’entreprise (Strategy Safari de Bruce Ahlstrand, Joseph Lampel et Henry Mintzberg), histoire des idées (The Great Philosophers de Stephen Law), romans... tout y passe – retrouvez la liste complète ici.

27. Le jour de la scène où Wallace est assassiné a été tournée, Michael B. Jordan a expressément demandé à sa mère de ne pas venir sur le plateau.

« Ma mère est extrêmement émotive, ça aurait été trop pour elle. »

28. Aussi rusé qu’impitoyable dans les rues, Omar Little met cependant un point d’honneur à ne jamais jurer, lui qui de toute la série n’est pas entendu dire un seul gros mot.

D’ailleurs le jour où Michael Kenneth Williams a eu la surprise de lire un « shit » dans l’un de ses dialogues, il s’en est étonné auprès de David Simon. Ce dernier lui a alors répliqué qu’il avait bien fait de l’avertir et que dorénavant il lui laissait le cas échéant le soin d’éliminer toute grossièreté de ses textes.

29. Dans toutes les scènes où Omar annonce son arrivée en sifflant, Michael K. Williams était doublée car il ne sait pas siffler.

30. Les cicatrices qu’arborent sur le visage Michael K. Williams et Jamie Hector (Marlo) sont bien réelles.

Si Hector ne s’est jamais confié sur la balafre qui lui traverse la joue, Williams a révélé que sa blessure au front lui avait été infligée à coup de rasoir lors d’une bagarre à la sortie d’une soirée.

31. Bien qu’il n’ait jamais manqué un jour de tournage, ni même été une seule fois en retard de toute la saison 3, Michael K. Williams a avoué avoir été durant toute cette période addict à la cocaïne.

32. Gbenga Akinnagbe joue deux rôles différents dans la série : avant de prêter ses traits à l’impitoyable Chris Parlow, il peut auparavant être brièvement vu grimé en policier au tribunal dans une scène où il faisait de la figuration.

33. Si Randy Wagstaff qui à la fin de la saison 4 termine dans un foyer après le décès de sa mère adoptive et Cheese Wagstaff (Method Man) partagent le même nom de famille ce n’est pas un hasard : le second est le père biologique du premier.

L’information a été confirmée en personne par David Simon qui a malheureusement dû abandonner cette piste lorsque le nombre d’épisodes de la saison 5 a été réduit de 13 à 10.

34. Autre arc narratif laissé de côté : le passé trouble du lieutenant Cedric Daniels.

Modèle d’intégrité et d’ambition, il est plusieurs fois sous-entendu que par le passé il se serait laissé corrompre, notamment lorsque le divisionnaire Burrel le menace de révéler au grand jour ses sources de revenus inexpliquées lorsqu’il travaillait pour la DEA.

35. Avec 58 apparitions en 60 épisodes, Daniels est le personnage le plus vu au générique de la série.

36. Dans la saison 5, plusieurs vrais journalistes du Baltimore Sun peuvent être aperçus au sein de la fausse rédaction du Baltimore Sun. David Simon y est également allé de son caméo dans le tout dernier épisode où il apparaît dans la salle de rédaction.

37. Porté aux nues par les rappeurs, The Wire est évidemment ultra référencé dans leurs textes, au point qu'il fut un temps où rares étaient les clips dans lesquels n’apparaissaient pas un acteur de la série.

Idris Elba a ainsi été invité par Fat Joe (All I Need) et Angie Stone (I Wanna Thank Ya), Hassan Johnson (Wee-Bey) par Jay Z (Anything), 50 cent (Just A Lil' Bit) et les The Roots (Break You Off), Andre Royo (Bubbles) par Nas (Be a Nigger Too), Cam’ron (Lord You Know) et Freeway (What We Do), Wood Harris (Avon Barksdale) par Common (Testify) et Kanye West (Through The Wire), Anwan Glover (Slim Charles) par Rick Ross (The Boss), Raheem DeVaughn (Guess Who Loves You More) et Lil Mo (Dem Boyz), J. D. Williams (Bodie Broadus) par Fabolous (Breathe) et Lumidee (Never Leave), la liste est sans fin…

38. Du temps de sa diffusion, The Wire n’a jamais été considérée de près ou de loin comme un succès. Outre le fait que la série n’a jamais remporté le moindre Emmy Awards (en parallèle Two and a Half Men/Mon oncle Charlie en a obtenu neuf...), les audiences étaient confidentielles : là où les tous derniers épisodes des Soprano ou de Breaking Bad ont réunis plus de 10 millions de téléspectateurs, –30– en comptait un petit million à peine.

HBO avait d’ailleurs officiellement annoncé l'annulation de la série à la fin de la saison 3 avant de revenir sur sa décision, puis d’envisager à nouveau de clore les débats après la saison 4.

39. Dans l’hypothèse où The Wire aurait été prolongée d’une saison, David Simon aurait souhaité déplacer l’action dans les quartiers latinos du Southeast Baltimore afin d’explorer le thème de l’immigration, « un sujet source incroyable de frictions et d’idéologie ».

40. Aussi réaliste que soit The Wire, il est important de savoir que David Simon n’est absolument pas neutre politiquement et que la série présente un point de vue.

Proche de l’aile gauche du parti démocrate, il a été critiqué par de nombreux acteurs locaux (politiques, syndicats de policiers, associations de terrain, certains de ses anciens collègues...) pour le pessimisme de son propos et sa critique jugée peu trop systématique des institutions au détriment de la responsabilité individuelle.

LE THREAD TWITTER

Publié initialement sur Booska-p.com le 7 octobre 2020.

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camilliar · 6 years

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fic? post???

@stultiloquentia said I liked fics about the decline of man so here’s some crazy shit I’ve been writing for @tomato-greens where they’re all teenage runaways, maybe I’ll “finish” this “story” one day? pg13, eventual zimbits but not in this part, ~3k, I’d say “enjoy” but

Eric hadn’t begun to fathom just how large Jack was—how tall, how broad—until Jack reared up and bellowed in his face, “This isn’t a game!”

“I wasn’t playing.” Eric tried to straighten up, but he was only five feet.

“Either get with the program or go home!”

And, well, that sure hurt—Jack must have known Eric couldn’t go home, right? Wasn’t that the whole point? What else did Jack think they were doing out here? There wasn’t any home, not really, except this one, here and now.

Also, until Jack yelled, Eric wasn’t sure he knew English. Eric had only ever heard him speak in French before. So that was a revelation.

“What’d you do?” Shitty asked, as they were waiting to steal into the gas station bathroom on Moreland—the Shell, not the Chevron. Less foot traffic at this one. Fewer passersby.

“Nothing,” Eric swore, starting to waggle. He really had to go now. “I gave him a plant, is all.”

“A plant?”

“Yeah, you know, a little plant. A Christmas cactus.”

“A what?”

“Christmas cactus,” said Eric. “They’re pretty when they bloom. My mama used to have one—used to, she probably still does, oh boy, I can’t wait to get into the bathroom—what do you think is taking him so long in there?”

“I bet we don’t want to know,” said Shitty.

“Well, you’re probably right, I suppose—I was thinking I could water the cactus here, or Jack would—you know, if he took it from me—”

“She.”

“—if he took it from me, we could walk over here with it and just get it a little water, nice clean water like from the tap—don’t make that face at me, mister! I’ve been holding it all night.”

“You coulda got me up, you know.”

“Nah,” said Eric. “Nah, and destroy your beauty rest?”

“Nothing pretty about me,” said Shitty, and he grinned to show off his pointy canines. It made him look feral. Eric agreed he didn’t look pretty, though he was sure better-kempt than the rest of them. To that point, when the door flung open and Eric rushed inside, Shitty filed in after and, kindly, took a moment to lock the door. He had his dopp kid until his arm; it was his most prized thing. It looked about a thousand years old, like something from a fairy tale. Shitty put it on the edge of the sink and began removing little cannister, old film containers and pill bottles. Being brazen, sometimes Shitty would sneak into the bathroom of a nice restaurant and fill them with lotion, or soap. Sometimes he’d do it in a Target, just pumping shaving gel into an old film cannister. Why not steal the whole bottle? Eric had asked him once. It was something about that not being right, some code. He had a razor blade and he was shaving with it, carefully skirting his mustache. He was impeccably well-groomed for a bum, Eric thought.

One day maybe I’ll be able to grow a beard and then I’ll be impeccably well-groomed, Eric thought. He was only 14; maybe he’d be tall one day.

Or maybe he’d never find out. Was this temporary? He’d only been in Atlanta for two weeks. Had it only been two weeks? Don’t think about it, he reminded himself. Do your business. Don’t look.

He was still doing his business, his semi-hard cock in hand, when Shitty stuck an old Mortin bottle under his nose. Eric had never gone to high school, but he knew that smell; some of his daddy’s team used to smoke after practice, when they thought Coach had taken Eric home for supper.

“No thank you,” he said, shocked, clumsily stuffing his prick back into his pants, still wet at the tip. He would fret about that all day.

II.

Eric was confident that if he has access to his kitchen, he could make Jack feel better. The one time he’d seen Jack smile—really smile—was when Shitty’d brought him a Happy Meal with chicken nuggets and an apple pie for dessert.

“You know,” Eric had said, trying to be all casual-like, “McDonald’s pies aren’t very good.”

Jack had looked up; having shoved most of the thing into his mouth, his cheeks were bulging.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Eric had continued, “I can make an apple pie that’s a lot better.”

Having a mouth full of food hadn’t stopped Jack from trying to say, “Well, what good does that do us? Where do you think you’re gonna bake one?” Of course, with all that pie in his mouth, not to mention the weird accent, Eric hadn’t managed to make out what Jack had said exactly. But, that was the gist of it, Eric was certain.

“You don’t have to try to make her like you,” Shitty explained. They were walking down Moreland; Larissa had reported that, on the way into town with her mother, she had noticed that someone had left a big box of stuff on the curb up on Briarcliff. Eric had never been to the other side of Ponce, and he was nervous-excited. “Just rich people over there,” Shitty had explained, “real bougie fucks.” Eric didn’t know what bougies were, but they were going to check it out.

“You think there’s any kitchen stuff in that box?” Eric asked. Waiting to cross Freedom Parkway took an eternity.

“Oh, yeah.” Shitty rubbed his hands together, like he’d realized this was a great idea. “That’d be good, if it’s vintage we could try to sell it at Highland Antiques, get some cash. Or is that one of those antiques malls where you have to rent a booth?” He began to stroke his chin. “I wonder.”

The light changed, and Eric scurried across in Shitty’s wake. “Nah, I mean like, we could hold onto it, use it to cook something.”

“Like over a fire,” Shitty agreed, “real old-timey hobo-like shit. Make some beans.”

“I was just thinking since Jack liked that that awful pie from McDonald’s, maybe he’d like my award-winning apple pie, which is much better.”

Again, at North, they had to stop and wait for traffic.

“You can cook a pie over a fire?”

Eric had begun to notice that Shitty was more difficult to deal with right after he’d smoked some pot, which was just about always.

“You cook a pie in the oven.”

“I doubt there’s gonna be an oven at the end of someone’s driveway,” Shitty said. “When rich people get a new oven, the Best Buy or whatever hauls the old one away.”

“Well,” Eric said, consoling himself. “Maybe there’s a pie plate. I shoulda brought mine. That was pretty darn stupid of me, huh?”

Shitty put a hand to Eric’s back, as if to usher him across North Avenue. “Listen, kiddo. It’s nice of you to want to do something sweet for Jack and all, but you gotta let her live with her choices. Junkies get a little junk-sick sometimes, you know?” As they got to the other side of the street, he paused. After a moment, he added, “Let’s go to the Borders sometime and steal you a copy of Naked Lunch.”

“Naked what?” Eric asked. He was only able to half-focus on Shitty’s explanation, too busy hoping beyond hope he’d find something pretty in that box on Moreland to bring home—such as it was home—for Jack.

When they got there, to Eric’s disappointment, the box had already been picked up by the garbagemen.

“Fuckin’ DeKalb County,” Shitty mused. “Fuckin’ yuppie assholes.”

Eric had no clue what he was talking about, none whatsoever.

III.

Borders didn’t have a copy of Naked Lunch, or anything else by the author. “Fuckin’ capitalism,” Shitty complained. “This whole place is full of garbage, not books. Who needs any of this?” He picked up something on a display of mostly stationery, a plastic deer figurine in pink glitter. Eric thought, well, the store is full of mostly books? He did like that sparkly deer. He wished Shitty would steal it for him, but Shitty had a twisted code about stealing things Eric might actually like. “Come on, we’d better go to Whole Foods, see if there’s free tortilla chip samples.”

But at the door of the Whole Foods, a staff member stacking handbaskets looked at them funny and said, “Excuse me.”

Shitty paid him little heed, just said, “Hey, bro,” entered anyway.

Eric had never been in a Whole Foods before. It was dark, not bright like a Publix. And not for lack of light—there were overhead lights. It was just yellow, washed-out, dingy. It didn’t feel clean like a Publix; it felt less clean than Kroger.

“Oh, good,” Shitty said, dragging Eric by the arm. “Guacamole.”

It wasn’t guacamole, though, it was pineapple salsa.

“Bullshit,” sad Shitty, “total bullshit. But, here, eat this anyway.” He had somehow managed to pile it only about four chips at once. “Beat off the scurvy.”

“You think there’s anything here Jack would like?”

Through a mouth of tortilla chips, Shitty said, “There’s nothing anywhere Jack would like, because Jack only likes two things: narcotics, and feeling sorry for herself.”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked what these chips tasted like; they shimmered under the yellow lights with a glean of oil, like they’d come out of a deep-fryer. Sometimes at UGA games Eric’s father would take him to his buddies’ various tailgates, and some of those guys had deep fryers, and, well, Eric knew what flour tortillas in corn oil tasted like. He preferred Tostitos, with their dry, clean starch—but he realized, now that he was eating, that he’d been hungry all morning, truly hungry. He’d been hungry for so long that he forgot he was hungry until he had some food.

“See, the thing with Jack is,” Shitty started to explain, but the same employee who’d been stacking baskets approached them.

“How’re you boys doing?” he asked.

Shitty had tortilla chip crumbs in his mustache. “Thanks for asking, bro, we’re fine. When does the guac come out?”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

Shitty’s question wasn’t answered.

IV.

It was easy to lose track of time, Eric figured, when day after day was the same and you had nowhere to go and nothing to do. It felt wrong when he thought of it: he had things to do, didn’t he? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking for a place to stay? But Eric was no closer to affording an apartment than he had been upon arrival in Atlanta, and some kind of gravity, or lack of inertia, kept him spinning in circles. The highlight of his week became Larissa’s trip into the city on Saturday mornings; she would take a walk in the park with Shitty while her mother did errands. Sometimes, out of pity, Mrs. Larissa’s Mother gave Eric a few dollars.

“Don’t blow it all in one place,” Shitty chided. He was about to head off with Larissa toward Inman Park. What would they do there, and where would they go when the weather got too cold to spend it outside? Eric thought for a few minutes about other places Shitty and Larissa could walk to, but then Eric realized Shitty’s walks in the park were the least of his worries.

When Jack woke up that afternoon he wasn’t in such a bad mood, so Eric felt like it was safe to ask him: “What do we do when it gets cold out?”

Jack blinked his eyes open, slowly at first and then all at once, like the question caught him off-guard. “I don’t know what you’ll do,” he said, “but I’m staying here.”

“In Atlanta?”

“Right here.”

The thought was so disturbing that Eric wandered down the street until he remembered he had three dollars in his pocket. He was a block down from the Zesto, and found himself walking toward it until he was pressed up against the window, looking in, reading the menu over the counter. A sundae was a bit over three dollars. Feeling determined, Eric began to inspect the sidewalk and then the parking lot, hoping to find anything: a nickel, a dime, a quarter. Anything would help.

A pair of ladies holding hands were walking down McLendon toward the corner, on the other side of the street. Feeling bold, and determined, he jogged toward them.

“Hi, ma’am,” he said. “Ma’ams.” Suddenly, Eric was grateful for how long it took the light to change before a person could get to the other side of Moreland. “How’s your day?”

One of them was wearing aviator sunglasses and a poofy skirt that sat high up on her waist. She was big-chested and had on a patterned V-neck T-shirt. She let go of the other woman’s hand and said, “Okay.”

“I was just wondering—” now Eric felt solidly deranged “—if you would be so kind, do you have a couple cents on you? A sundae at the Zesto is three-twenty-nine, and my friend Larissa only gave me three bucks, so I was hoping—”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence before he got a dollar along with the question, “Aren’t you too young to be panhandling?” But, mercifully, they didn’t wait for Eric to answer.

On one hand, if Eric sauntered back leisurely, the sundae would begin to melt; on the other, if he ran, truly hustled, he might spill it. He tried to split the difference, and spent the walk daydreaming of all the things he’d buy for Jack one day, if he would only afford it: a beautiful old razor like his grandfather had owned; a Kindle, so Jack could read all the books he wanted without having to fret about going to the store; new yellow sneakers, fresh as they were vivid as they were hideous.

“What’s that?” Jack asked warily, when he saw Eric approach with something in hand.

“Just a sundae, from Zesto.” Eric paused. “I thought we could split it?”

“I don’t want to share a spoon.”

“I got two spoons.” Eric squatted, careful not to rest his weight on Jack’s blankets. “You like hot fudge, right?”

Jack only grunted.

“These nice ladies gave me a dollar,” Eric explained, removing the lid from the sundae. “You know, I had to really screw up my courage to ask them, but it wasn’t too hard once I put my mind to it. They seemed real friendly, but they asked what I was doing panhandling, said I was too young to be doing that. I don’t think I’m too young, do you? I think I’m just about the right age for things, I mean, we all gotta learn to put ourselves out there at some point, I guess.” He sighed, digging his spoon into the melting soft serve. “I’m still worried about what to do when it gets real cold out.”

Jack, who had already been eating the ice cream, had white on his lips. He licked them, slowly. “I used to worry about it too,” he said, before helping himself to another spoonful.

“What made you stop?”

Jack swallowed his ice cream. “Heroin.”

Eric had nothing to say to that, so he kept eating, perhaps a little too quickly, given how thoroughly he wanted to savor things. Then again, the sundae was melting, so.

Suddenly, Eric was deeply, depressingly aware of how rare this moment was: Jack was being honest, and he didn’t seem sick, and he didn’t seem angry. Eric was midway through helping himself to another bite of ice cream when he got a bizarre urge not to feed himself but to offer his spoon to Jack instead.

And Jack accepted, which was weirder.

It made something in Eric start to burn, start to fill his chest with—god, some emotion, some strong tug from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

Eric cleared his throat, to get Jack’s attention. “Listen, Jack, can I ask you something?”

Jack looked up. “I guess,” he said. “For the ice cream.”

“Why—” It was hard for Eric to get it out. “Why does Shitty call you ‘she’?”

Their nice moment was over.

“He shouldn’t,” Jack said, drawing his arm up, to shield his face. “Does he? He shouldn’t.”

“Well, I was just wondering—”

“Stop wondering.”

“But—”

Now Eric felt awful stupid.

“Never call me that. She doesn’t exist. You’ll never get to meet her, so don’t ask.” Jack put his face in his hands.

“But who’s ‘she’?”

“She’s nobody, so shutup.”

Eric was good at that—shutting up. He merely put a hand at Jack’s back, felt him trembling. “You want some more ice cream?”

Jack looked up, pushed himself to his feet. The plastic spoon from Zesto clattered to the pavement. “I gotta—” He found something, dug it out of his blankets. “I need the bathroom, don’t follow me.”

It had been months now, so Eric knew Jack needed the bathroom the way his mother needed her alone time: to do something she really ought not to have been doing, that was, behind closed doors. Eric had seen Jack crush pills in his fist and rub them into his gums, that night he’d probably thought Eric was sleeping and couldn’t see it.

In the plastic bowl their sundae was a puddle of white streaked with brown. Eric might have gotten a C+ in eighth-grade English, but he knew symbolism when he saw it.

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snuglebunnie · 7 years

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keijay-blog · 6 years

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New Post has been published on https://cookingtipsandreviews.com/66-best-ever-thanksgiving-pies-taste-of-home/

66 Best-Ever Thanksgiving Pies | Taste of Home

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Gingersnap Crumb Pear Pie

This basic recipe was one my grandmother used for making crumble pies from fresh fruit. She simply substituted oats, gingersnaps or vanilla wafers depending on the fruit. Pear was always my favorite. I added the ginger and caramel to give it a new twist. —Fay Moreland, Wichita Falls, Texas

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Cranberry Pecan Pie

I first prepared this pie at Thanksgiving to share with my co-workers. It was such a success! Now I freeze cranberries while they are in season so that I can make it year-round. —Dawn Liet Hartman, Mifflinburg, Pennsylvania

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junker-town · 6 years

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The ERAs that have never existed in baseball history

Nobody has ever had a 1.05 ERA in baseball history, and that qualifies as news in this offseason.

There were 26 pitchers who finished the 2017 season with a 0.00 ERA. Among them were Jon Jay and Mitch Moreland, three different Tylers, and at least four different players with George Lucas-ass names (David Goforth, Jason Gurka, Damien Magnifico, and Thyago Vieira). It’s not that hard to finish the season with a 0.00 ERA. Don’t allow any runs, stupid, and you’re on your way.

But a 0.01 ERA? Ah, there’s a tricky one. It would take a pitcher 900 innings to have a chance at a 0.01 ERA, and he would only be able to allow one earned run. This has never happened and never will, of course. This also goes for the 0.02 ERA, which would cut the required innings in half, but still be impossible to reach. When you get to the 0.03 ERA, you’re at least in the realm of a reasonable innings target (300!), but it’s still mostly impossible.

The lowest ERA in baseball history that isn’t a flat 0.00? That belongs to Joba Chamberlain, who posted a 0.38 ERA in 2007. It was effectively tied by Buck O’Brien in 1911, except Chamberlain’s ERA was rounded up from 0.375, and O’Brien’s was 0.378, which is just a midge higher. We’ve moved into the area of possible ERAs, now. These are the ERAs that could exist, in theory, but don’t.

My goal today is to find the ERAs that have never existed, the uncharted statistical territories that are without a flag. After the 0.38 ERAs of Chamberlain and O’Brien, we have the 0.39 ERA of Cliff Markle in 1915, and after that, we have the 0.40 ERA of Joel Johnston in 1991. After that, though, there’s a gap, and we have to go all the way to Craig Kimbrel’s 0.44 ERA in 2010 to find an ERA that’s existed in the wild.

Where are the 0.41, 0.42, and 0.43 ERAs? They’re statistically possible, certainly. A pitcher who throws 22 innings and allows an earned run would have the 0.41 ERA. It just hasn’t happened yet.

This brings us to my point: I’m a huge nerd, and I feel like it is my mission to discover the ERAs that haven’t happened yet.

Once you’re deep into the 1.00s, there are several of each. When you’re in the 2.00s, there are dozens of every ERA, give or take. There have been several 2.01 ERAs. There have been several 2.99 ERAs. As you get closer to the median, there are more and more examples. Grover Lowdermilk posted a pi-friendly 3.14 in 1916, and Craig Stammen did it last year. Once you’re into the 3.00s, you’ll notice that almost all of them were claimed before the First World War began.

All of the ERAs from 1.06 to 6.73 are taken. There will be no flags planted on these ERAs. With that written, with the help of Baseball-Reference’s indispensable Play Index, I would like to present the ERAs between 0.00 and 10.00 that have never existed.

0.01 0.02 0.03 0.04 0.05 0.06 0.07 0.08 0.09 0.10 0.11 0.12 0.13 0.14 0.15 0.16 0.17 0.18 0.19 0.20 0.21 0.22 0.23 0.24 0.25 0.26 0.27 0.28 0.29 0.30 0.31 0.32 0.33 0.34 0.35 0.36 0.37 0.41 0.42 0.43 0.46 0.47 0.48 0.55 0.58 0.62 0.65 0.78 0.80 0.85 0.88 0.91 0.97 0.99

1.05

6.74 6.76

7.72 7.73 7.95

8.01 8.09 8.23 8.30 8.32 8.37 8.43 8.72 8.73 8.93 8.94 8.96 8.97 8.98 8.99

9.01 9.02 9.03 9.04 9.05 9.07 9.11 9.21 9.34 9.40 9.44 9.46 9.47 9.51 9.52 9.54 9.59 9.61 9.62 9.63 9.65 9.70 9.73 9.77 9.78 9.79 9.80 9.81 9.83 9.84 9.86 9.89 9.91 9.93 9.94 9.96 9.97

Some of these are achievable. Give up just four runs in 34⅓ innings? You’ve landed on the moon, so to speak, and that 1.05 ERA bodes well for your future. Give up 125 earned runs in 167 innings? Well ... the important thing is that you tried, and at least your 6.74 ERA is one of a kind.

Once you get past 10.00, forget about it. Nobody has posted a 14.39 ERA, and no one ever will. The specific combination of earned runs and innings pitched is too outlandish, especially when you consider that the worse someone pitches, the less likely they are to continue pitching.

My hope when I started this research was that there would be one regular ol’ ERA in the middle that was a holy grail. After all this time, we would realize that nobody had ever had a 4.53 ERA — not even Jeff Suppan — and we would all have a good laugh about it. Except several people have had a 4.53 ERA, including Jeff Suppan. I did not know this before using him as an example for a typical 4.53 ERA, and now I’m scared. I absolutely swear on a stack of Willie Mays cards that this is true.

Instead, it looks like the realistic holy grail is 1.05. It’s tough and demanding, and it would take a heckuva effort. But we’ve seen relief seasons like eight runs in 68⅔ innings. It’s nothing that unheard of for a closer. We just need it to happen again so that we can move on to 0.99.

The larger point is there needs to be a damned trade or a free agent signing because I’m losing my mind. We’re about a news-free week away from me texting, “THERE HAS NEVER BEEN AN 8.37 ERA” to my wife, which would be followed by a “THERE HAS NEVER BEEN AN 8.43 ERA” text minutes later. She knew what she was getting into, yes, but nobody deserves that. Make some moves, baseball teams.

In conclusion, Grover Lowdermilk. Thank you.

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dusudaunord · 7 years

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Things to do in Montréal from June 9 to 15

Montréal’s first massive weekend of summer starts now with the F1 Grand Prix, Francofolies music fest, Mural Fest, 375th anniversary and Expo 67 celebrations, Fringe theatre fest, Chagall and Gaultier at the Fine Arts Museum, plenty of live music and more.

Revved for Formula 1 Grand Prix

We’re off to the races June 9-11 as the Formula 1 Grand Prix du Canada turns up the heat at Circuit Gilles-Villeneuve and downtown at the free Crescent Street Grand Prix Festival and Peel Formula events, featuring DJs, fashion shows and driver appearances, and Little Italy’s Grand Prix celebrations. Eat, drink and let loose throughout Grand Prix – get social with the city’s patio scene, and indulge in F1 specials at numerous restaurants and bars. Fashionistas won’t want to miss the free Grand Prix Fashion Event on the third floor of Cours Mont Royal downtown on June 9 or the Bijoux Bijoux jewellery sale at Marché Bonsecours June 9-11 – or any of Montréal’s excellent boutique shopping from Old Montréal and Westmount to the Plateau. And F1 parties keep us up late, from a soirée at The Ritz Carlton to electronic dance music Friday to Sunday at New City Gas, Velvet, Flyjin and many more venues.

Entertainment for all

The sun is out and there’s entertainment in the streets: Summer festival season begins now! French-language music festival Les Francofolies fills Place des Festivals this week with free outdoor shows all afternoon and into the night on several stages – don’t miss Sunday night’s major Québecois star showcase with Yann Perreau, Avec pas d’casque, Safia Nolin and more! Take a walk up traffic-free Saint-Laurent Boulevard during Mural Fest, June 8-18, to watch artists paint new works on buildings’ walls and catch live music – while walking, stop by the St-Ambroise Montréal Fringe Festival outdoor stage for live music and performances – you can buy your tickets to festival shows there too! Science fans young and old will love the Eureka! Festival of free activities in the Old Port. Canada Soccer’s 2017 CONCACAF Gold Cup starts at Montréal’s Saputo Stadium with the Men’s National Team playing Curaçao on June 13. And add more laughs to the weekend with comedian Bill Burr at L’Olympia on June 10.

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Celebrate the city

Watch Montréal history come to life on the Saint Lawrence River in spectacular, free multimedia show Montréal Avudo every night in the Old Port. The Old Port is also where you’ll see Cirque du Soleil’s VOLTA under the big top. From there check out the city’s high-tech 375th anniversary light show on the Jacques-Cartier Bridge. Old Montréal landmark Notre-Dame Basilica, one of the city’s most stunning churches, lights up with beautiful high-tech spectacle Aura, while the surrounding streets illuminate with the historic tableaux projections of Cité Memoire. Urban green space, outdoor eatery and bar in the heart of downtown Les Jardins Gamelin hosts music performances, dance classes, family activities and more all week. Grab a bite from one of Montréal’s great food trucks or pop by the Marché des Éclusiers market in the Old Port for a meal, a drink, local produce and other creations. Head to the Village au Pied du Courrant next to the Jacques Cartier Bridge for music, food and socializing. Walk through the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts Open-Air Museum on Sherbrooke Street. And feel like a kid again on the music-making 21 Swings in Place des Festivals.

Une publication partagée par 1967:Canada Welcomes the World (@expo67world) le 25 Mai 2017 à 9h28 PDT

Expo 67 returns

Montréal takes a look back at city-changing Expo 67 with entertaining and history-rich exhibitions: see colourful outfits and products created by Québec designers at the McCord Museum’s Fashioning Expo 67; photographs tell the tale in The Sixties in Montréal: Archives de Montréal at City Hall; marvel at the technological innovations of EXPO 67: A World of Dreams at the Stewart Museum and Écho 67 at the nearby Buckminster Fuller designed Biosphère; baby boomer youth culture is a blast in Explosion 67 – Youth and Their World at the Centre d’histoire de Montréal; it’s all about ’60s artistic expression in the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts’s Révolution: “You say you want a revolution” and the Musée d’art contemporain’s In Search of Expo 67; Arcmtl presents Expo 67: Avant Garde! – forward-looking, boundary-breaking art of the ’60s at the Cinémathèque Québecoise; and Centre de design de l’UQAM honours architect Moshe Safdie’s Habitat 67 in The Shape of Things to Come.

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Art and film

Don’t miss CHAGALL: COLOUR AND MUSIC at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, ending June 13 – also a must while there: Love Is Love – wedding haute couture and prêt-à-porter by Jean Paul Gaultier. Meanwhile at the Musée d’art contemporain see Hajra Waheed’s The Video Installation Project 1–10 and collections-based Pictures for an Exhibition. Mexican artist Gilberto Esparza’s Plantas autofotosintéticas has us rethinking how biology, technology and art intersect at Galerie de l’UQAM. British artist Ed Atkins intrigues with questions on human bodies, digital creation and reality in video exhibition Modern Piano Music at DHC-ART. Pointe-à-Callière archaeology and history museum presents the fascinating Amazonia: The Shaman and the Mind of the Forest. And see interactive local-history exhibition Mon Coeur est à Montréal – 41 Vies à Découvrir at the Grande Bibliothèque. On screen: The Montreal Israeli Film Festival runs to June 15; travel through virtual worlds in Felix & Paul Studios Virtual Reality Garden at the Phi Centre; explore space in double feature KYMA – Power of Waves and Edge of Darkness at the Rio Tinto Alcan Planetarium, watch saxophone documentary “The Devil’s Horn” under the stars at Place de la Paix on June 12, and the first of the Montreal International Documentary Festival free outdoor film screenings, Swagger by Olivier Babinet on June 14 at 9 p.m. in Parc du Portugal.

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Live music

Along with outdoor shows, French-language music festival Les Francofolies features high-talent indoor shows this week with Québec music giants Yann Perreau, Klô Pelgag, Catherine Major, Pierre Lapointe, Louis-Jean Cormier and more artists at Place des Arts, Rymz et la Mifa Friday night and Peter Peter Saturday at Metropolis, Corneille on Friday and Fred Fortin on Thursday at Club Soda, and eclectic artists throughout the week at L’Astral. The Montréal Chamber Music Festival continues with the Dover Quartet, pianist Robi Botos, the Israeli Chamber Project, pianist Jan Lisiecki, free Matinées Musicales and smartphone concerts. The eclectic and excellent Suoni per il Popolo festival continues all month – this week open your ears to: Gypsy Kumbia Orchestra, Eric Chenaux, Framboos, French post-punk band Frustration, the machine experiments of will eizlini and [the user], composer Nicole Lizée, Aussie experimenters Severed Heads, avant-garde jazz icon Roscoe Mitchell and more.

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Friday night brings folk-country singer-songwriter John Moreland to Bar Le Ritz P.D.B. On Saturday night, welcome back the fun 60s-influenced stylings of The Avalanches at Théâtre Corona, let electronic music move your body while visuals dazzle at Substrate with Suzy.Technology in the SAT‘s dome. Spend Sunday afternoon dancing outside at Piknic Electronik with electronic music from Ardalan, Christian Martin, Mandiz, Woulg and Co/ntry. Later on Sunday, join The Jacksons to celebrate 50 years of their music, at L’Olympia, Grammy winners and ’80s music icons Toto swoop into Place des Arts, and indie rockers Day Wave and Blonder play Bar Le Ritz P.D.B. Monday brings the Classical Spree: Spotlight on Adam Johnson and the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal – a free show demystifying the workings of the orchestra at Place des Arts. The Montreal Folk Festival on the Canal starts June 14 with an opening party at Bar de Courcelle and multi-artist Tributes to Willie Nelson and to folk star Penny Lang on June 15 (followed by a weekend of free music outdoors). See rapper Freddie Gibbs on his You Only Live 2wice tour at Théâtre Fairmount on June 14. And on June 15, British electronic duo Mount Kimbie play Théâtre Fairmount.

Up next:Paint the town with MURAL Festival

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