E. C. (Gene) Ayres Blogspot

In the winter of 2004 an old friend paid me a visit to my then-home in St. Petersburg, Florida, and made me an offer that, while I didn't refuse, took me four months to accept. It was an offer to come to China and teach for a year at a public university in Harbin, Heilongjiang Province, of the People's Republic of China. For those of you who are not of the Boomer generation, you may not recall a movie, based on a book, that was a mega-hit thriller in the 1960s: The Manchurian Candidate . Manchuria was a nation in and of itself prior to the British occupation, consisting of today's three northernmost (and eastern-most) provinces of China, of which Heilongjiang is the largest and northernmost of the three, the capital city of which is Harbin (pop. 7,000,000). The Manchu were the native race of this region, who had their own language, and also their own emperor who, not satisfied with their confinement to the north decided to expand southwards. This decision, by the future Q...

There were three extremely disturbing stories in the news this morning, and none had anything to do with Libya, or Obama, or deficits (at least fiscal ones) or our disfunctional Congress. What they had a lot more to do with was the End of Civilization as we know it. To wit: the Philadelphia Orchestra is bankrupt. That is huge, and utterly inexcusable to be allowed to happen in any society that still imagines itself to be advanced. On a lesser scale, but equally significant, here in Seattle two similar cultural decisions have been reached: to close down the Intiman Theater, arguably the finest repertory company on the West Coast; and on a smaller, but perhaps even more significant scale, Nordstroms is firing all its piano players. No, not because they are too costly, or not gifted enough, or destract shoppers from their mission. No, it's because today's shoppers, it turns out, pefer canned pop music to live piano. So I think it wouldn't be too much of a reach to say that to...

Back in Jane Austen's time people used to laugh, and sing happy songs like ‘now we don our gay apparel.’ But now gay means getting murdered in rural Wyoming like Matthew Shepard, or flogged in Teheran, or at best having to be secretive, or at least pretty brave, if you choose to come out anywhere outside of, say, the West Village or West Hollywood. But to me, I keep wondering just what all the fuss is all about. It’s like the old saying, ‘some of my best friends are Jews.’ Or in this case, ‘gays.’ Relatives too. Even favorite ones. Having worked in the arts, music, Hollywood and literary worlds my whole life, I was bound to meet one or two of them. And it’s hard to understand why all this anathema from the rest of us. Most of the gays I’ve met are very nice, well educated, well dressed, polite people who wash their hands, and have excellent taste in most matters. Every town or city I’ve ever lived in was improved once gays moved in: art galleries were opened, good restaurants, thea...