February 4, 2010

We watched the Grammy telecast last Sunday, and despite some of the musicians’ do-gooder efforts—Wyclef Jean is certainly a more appropriate spokesperson for Haiti than Bono is for Africa—the majority of the program felt like one long, insincere, self-congratulatory fiasco. From Lady GaGa’s factory-themed (very appropriate) opening number to the Li’l Wayne/Eminem/Drake collaboration—marred by sound outages and my girlfriend’s very vocal dislike of all things rap—the entire show felt like one long advertisement. Download the songs from tonight’s show at iTunes! Buy all the Grammy-winning CDs at Target! Even Lionel Richie’s reasonably heartfelt introduction to his “We Are the World” co-writer Michael Jackson’s 3-D tribute (forgot to pick up my specs, #$%@) included the tag, “The movie This Is It is now available on DVD.”

Deserving lifetime achievement honorees like Leonard Cohen and Loretta Lynn did not appear on the broadcast, apparently because they’re not “sexy” enough for the primetime audience. But the Grammy honcho got plenty of airtime to make another laughable plea on behalf of the poor ol’ music industry and how the artists—not the huge stars we suffered through on TV, but hundreds of others who will never set foot on the Grammy Awards stage—should be paid for their work. I agree. Go see them on tour, because that’s where they make their money, not from overpriced CDs and downloads (and what’s up with the $1.29 price point for songs now?).

Dread Clampitt’s Balder Saunders knocked winner Taylor Swift on Facebook, hilariously: “I’d like to thank the Grammy performance committee for not seeing one of my live shows and still putting me on the air with Stevie Nicks! I’d like to thank (the) Pro Tools Auto Tune Program for covering up the fact that I can’t sing…” I agree. As much I as I admire Swift’s recorded work, every live performance I’ve seen by her left me underwhelmed. As did the Black Eyed Peas with their lethargic rendition of “I Gotta Feeling,” a song that used to mean something to me.

Saunders is one of the nicest guys around, and he wouldn’t knock a fellow musician if he or she didn’t have it coming. Which brings us to our own music scene, which is overflowing with talent and diversity and people that favor helping others over multi-million dollar production numbers. This past weekend, Saunders’ band Dread Clampitt joined forces with Donnie Sundal and Chris Alvarado for a Haiti benefit organized by Chuck and Carmen Stiles at the Funky Blues Shack in Destin. The event was a great success, raising around $1,700 for local CNN hero Aaron Jackson’s Planting Peace (www.plantingpeace.org). It’s not the first time our musicians have come together for a worthy cause, and I’m certain it won’t be the last. I’m proud to champion these guys and gals in the pages of the Beachcomber.

And none of them need Auto Tune, neither.
- C.M.

ABOUT OUR CONTRIBUTORS
Dr. David C. Simmons, who reviews the film A Single Man in this issue, is a professor of Film Studies and Humanities at Northwest Florida State College. Simmons receive his Ph.D. in Film Studies and Humanities from Florida State University in 2005.

FRIENDS OF THE BEACHCOMBER
The Destin History and Fishing Museum has a special fundraiser program going on now, an oral history collection that will share the complete history of Destin. The museum seeks audio and video assistance, particularly anyone who can help transfer audiocassettes to CD. Call (850) 837-6609. It would be a shame if our longtime residents’ stories weren’t preserved for future generations.

GOOF OF THE FORTNIGHT
In the Jan. 21-Feb. 3 issue, we incorrectly stated that the Forrest Williams Band led the Beachcomber Music Awards nominations with nine. They are actually tied with Newfangled Theory—eight nominations apiece. We sincerely apologize for the mix-up and have fired our accountant/proofreader. (More work for the rest of us, ack!)

FROM THE (E)MAILBAG
I wish to express my irritation for the obvious contempt expressed in the “Welcome, Snowbirds!” piece (Jan. 21 Beachcomber). Speed limits changed for the winter visitors’ pleasure, buying all the fresh bread, eating dinner at 3, and obviously all of us eating only the Golden Corral? I estimate that my husband and I spend at least $100 a day in groceries, restaurants, shopping, gas, etc. Mr. Manson may prefer that we don't come here, but I assume that the merchants trying to make it through the lean winter season are glad to see us. Yes, we eat at the Golden Corral sometimes, but for the next week we also have dinner reservations at Commander's Palace, Ruth Chris' Steak House, and Bud and Alley's. We do eat dinner between the hours of 5 and 6:30 many evenings - what time does he eat?

Instead of thinking of us as interlopers that disturb his private paradise, could he not look at us as winter residents? I would be willing to guess that those of us that are here for 90 or so days in the winter actually spend more time here than the owners of the beautiful homes that we rent. Two or three weeks in the summer and a weekend here and there don't compare to a full three-month residency. We don't just visit a restaurant or shop once during our visit. We are repeat customers—something I would think a business would prefer to have.

I suspect Mr. Manson's problem isn't with just the snowbirds but with all non-locals. We love your beautiful beaches and wonderful shops and businesses, but if they were supported with only full-time residents, I doubt that many of them could survive. The paradise that he wishes to keep to himself wouldn't exist. One would think that if you chose to live in a tourist area that you realized there would be tourists. Most of the people we meet are friendly and exemplify the idea of southern charm. I'm glad I haven't met Mr. Manson yet.

Sincerely,
Peggy Rhodes (a six-year winter resident)

(The piece was intended as satire, as well as an attempt to bury all the ugly stereotypes about our winter residents, whom I cherish. – C.M.)

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