MISCELLANEOUS

Eve and the Fire Horse is a good movie. So is Caché.

Very funny (and likely accurate) review of Richard Ashcroft's new record.

Alan Greenspan is retiring (from The New Yorker):
Alan Greenspan, who retires this week after serving four and a half terms as chairman of the Federal Reserve, is arguably the most skillful bureaucratic survivor the nation’s capital has seen since J. Edgar Hoover. But unlike the late, unlamented director of the F.B.I., who terrorized his way to longevity, Greenspan practiced the subtler art of ingratiation. His Washington career began when he joined Richard Nixon’s 1968 campaign. After Watergate, he switched his loyalties to Gerald Ford, serving as the head of the White House Council of Economic Advisers. In the summer of 1987, Greenspan was Ronald Reagan’s choice to succeed Paul Volcker at the Fed.

Weathering the Black Monday stock-market crash that came a few months after he took office, Greenspan gradually established his authority. He became the public face of American prosperity: calm, credible, upbeat. Under Bill Clinton, he worked closely with three treasury secretaries—Lloyd Bentsen, Robert Rubin, and Lawrence Summers—to eliminate the budget deficit. Then, barely a month after the 2000 election was resolved, Greenspan endorsed George W. Bush’s plan for top-heavy tax cuts. The plan passed, the surplus disappeared, and, in 2004, Bush nominated Greenspan for another four-year term. “He’s extraordinarily good at getting along with people in power,” William Seidman, a former head of the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, has said. “He has the best bedside manner I’ve ever seen.”

Paul O’Neill, Bush’s first Treasury Secretary, has suggested that he and Greenspan secretly hoped to rein in the White House tax cutters. If that’s true, the secret was well kept. But a Fed chairman’s primary responsibility is his conduct of monetary policy, and it cannot be denied that Greenspan presided over almost two decades of low inflation and surprisingly strong economic growth. When he took office, the Politburo still occupied the Kremlin, the Dow was under 3,000, and few people outside the Pentagon and university science departments had heard of the Internet. Greenspan recognized that technology was upending established relationships among inflation, unemployment, and growth. The dramatic rise in productivity that was accompanying the information revolution, he said in 1997, was a “once or twice in a century” occurrence. So instead of raising interest rates, to head off inflation, as some colleagues recommended, he kept them low, and the economy recorded its longest-ever expansion.

Unfortunately, Greenspan extended the experiment too long, allowing a speculative bubble to form in the stock market. After the inevitable crash, in the spring of 2000, the Fed cut interest rates repeatedly, to cushion the impact on the economy. After September 11, 2001, it brought the rate down further—to below two per cent, the lowest level in forty years. By the middle of 2002, it was clear that the recession many expected had not materialized. Yet Greenspan chose to maintain an ultra-loose policy stance for two more years. The public explanation was that the Fed was worried about deflation, which can be even more damaging than inflation. Democrats could be forgiven for suspecting that Greenspan was also giving Bush a hand with the 2004 election.

Just as in the late nineteen-nineties, cheap money led to a speculative boom, this time in residential real estate. In parts of the country—New York, Miami, San Francisco—prices have doubled since 1999. In some neighborhoods, a decent-sized apartment selling for less than a million dollars is considered a steal. “Presiding over one bubble could be seen as bad luck,” The Economist recently noted, paraphrasing Wilde’s Lady Bracknell. “Presiding over two smacks of carelessness.”

If Greenspan remains popular, it’s because his ministrations have made many middle-class homeowners millionaires—at least on paper. But the economy is chronically unbalanced. Like an athlete on steroids, it is ailing from the inside. The United States has a negative personal-savings rate; an immense budget shortfall, which will expand as the baby boomers retire; a trade deficit greater than Russia’s gross domestic product. As a country, we are living far beyond our means. Every working day, we borrow more than three billion dollars from foreigners, notably the central banks of China and other Asian nations, in order to pay our import bills and keep our interest rates low. Nouriel Roubini, an economist at New York University, calls this “vender financing.” The Chinese lend us cash; we buy their goods.

Roubini is among those who fear that America’s profligacy will eventually create a crisis of confidence on the part of its creditors, leading to a run on the dollar, an upward spike in interest rates, and a deep recession. With the Dow recently having popped above 11,000, investors aren’t losing sleep over this scenario, but it cannot be dismissed. In January, the price of gold hit its highest level in twenty-five years, suggesting that some investors are already shifting their money out of dollars and into a safer haven. (Buying precious metals is a traditional way of insuring against future catastrophes.) Meanwhile, Ford said that it was cutting at least twenty-five thousand jobs, the latest in a series of retrenchments by major exporters, and the Commerce Department announced that economic growth slumped in the fourth quarter of 2005.

Greenspan himself, in a research paper that he co-wrote last year at the Fed, has pointed out how the proliferation of home-equity loans, which allow people to cash out some of the rising value of their homes, has impacted the economy. Flush with the proceeds of such loans, many American families have been spending more than they earn. Now that house prices have levelled off, homeequity lending and consumer spending have slowed. If house prices fall, the impact on the economy could be devastating. In a speech last summer at a Fed conference in Jackson Hole, Greenspan referred obliquely to such an eventuality. Talking about periods when financial markets downplay possible dangers ahead, he noted that “history has not dealt kindly with the aftermath.”

Sitting in the audience that day was Greenspan’s successor, Ben Bernanke. A former Princeton professor, Bernanke is a respected economist, but he has no experience on Wall Street and not much in Washington—just a few years on the Federal Reserve Board and several months heading the Council of Economic Advisers. In the coming months and years, events will test the new Fed chairman, and investors the world over will look to him to prevent a panic. Greenspan was a master at this game. Even when his arguments were opportunistic and unconvincing, he delivered them with gravity and élan: his mere presence was reassuring. But a bursting of the housing bubble would have exposed his sophistry, and the suspicion lingers that he is getting out while the getting is still good.



THE OSCARS

Initial thoughts on whom I think should win:

PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Philip Seymour Hoffman - CAPOTE

PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Paul Giamatti - CINDERELLA MAN

PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
Felicity Huffman - TRANSAMERICA

PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Rachel Weisz - THE CONSTANT GARDENER

ACHIEVEMENT IN ART DIRECTION
KING KONG

ACHIEVEMENT IN CINEMATOGRAPHY
THE NEW WORLD

ACHIEVEMENT IN DIRECTING
BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
MARCH OF THE PENGUINS

BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM OF THE YEAR
TSOTSI

ACHIEVEMENT IN MUSIC WRITTEN FOR MOTION PICTURES
(ORIGINAL SCORE)
BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

BEST MOTION PICTURE OF THE YEAR
BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

ACHIEVEMENT IN VISUAL EFFECTS
KING KONG

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
THE SQUID AND THE WHALE

KANYE

Rolling Stone

It's just weeks before the forty-eighth annual Grammy Awards, and Kanye West is lounging in a well-appointed suite in Manhattan's swanky Mercer Hotel, now commonly referred to as the site where Russell Crowe, in a fit of rage, hurled a telephone at an unsuspecting employee. Far away from the fabulous chaos that is the downstairs lobby -- Lindsay Lohan, Ben Kingsley and the designer Marc Jacobs are but a few of the boldfacers swirling about -- West tucks into a dinner of roast chicken and squash soup. It doesn't take long for conversation to wind toward the eight Grammy nominations that his second album, Late Registration, has garnered. But before he begins cataloging the specific statues he'd like to see on his mantel, West takes a moment to reflect on how far he's come since he burst on the scene with his stellar debut, The College Dropout, in 2004. All of the goals he set for himself as a fledgling producer in Chicago years ago have since been achieved, goals that he simply defines as such: "To go gold or platinum," he says, "to have songs that are respected across the board, to have some sort of influence on the culture and to change the sound of music and inspire up-and-coming artists to go against the grain." In West's mind, his mission has already been accomplished: "If I was to say that I hadn't already done all of that, then I'd be on some fake Hollywood bullshit modesty, and that's just plain stupid."

It has become a cliche to call Kanye West arrogant. Whether discussing his music or his style of dress, his intellect or his production prowess, he has absolutely no qualms about patting himself on the back. "Everyone in the country is in therapy and spending all their money on self-help books so their little internal voice will be able to say, 'I am good and I am OK,'" says Fiona Apple producer Jon Brion, who worked closely with West on Late Registration. "If you're going to believe all the stuff about positive thinking and self-actualization, that we affect our environment by the way we think about ourselves, do you want a better example than Kanye West? Fuck Tony Robbins. Kanye West should have infomercials."

Those hoping that success will tamp down West's outsize ego will be waiting for quite some time. "In America, they want you to accomplish these great feats, to pull off these David Copperfield-type stunts," West says. "But let someone ask you about what you're doing, and if you turn around and say, 'It's great,' then people are like, 'What's wrong with you?' You want me to be great, but you don't ever want me to say I'm great?"

At twenty-eight, West is one of the most popular and polarizing artists in music today. And while he's sold more than 4 million albums to date, he is as known for his outspokenness as he is for his hitmaking ability. His temper tantrum at the 2004 American Music Awards after Gretchen Wilson beat him out for Best New Artist, his no-holds-barred takedown of George Bush after the Hurricane Katrina disaster -- not since Tupac Shakur has a rapper been so compelling, so ridiculously brash, so irresistibly entertaining. After having produced a slew of chart-toppers for the likes of Alicia Keys ("You Don't Know My Name"), Twista ("Slow Jamz") and Jay-Z ("Izzo [H.O.V.A.]," "Takeover"), he traded his position behind the mixing board for a microphone. Since then, he has amassed a pile of his own hits, including "Through the Wire," "All Falls Down" and the massive "Jesus Walks." Six months after its release in 2005, "Gold Digger," his hypercatchy ode to women who "ain't messin' with no broke niggas," still blasts from radios across the country and packs club floors. "You'll be out somewhere dancing or having a drink, and when that song comes on, people just lose their shit," says Maroon 5 frontman Adam Levine, who collaborated with West on the Registration track "Heard 'Em Say." "You just see the room ignite. It's a monster, monster hit. A classic."

"Gold Digger," which features Jamie Foxx in Ray Charles mode, is nominated alongside Mariah Carey and Green Day for Record of the Year, and naturally West believes his effort should win. "Don't ask me what I think the best song of last year was, because my opinion is the same as most of America's," he says, shrugging. "It was 'Gold Digger.'" Never one for understatement, he goes so far as to call his track an "international anthem." White ladies, old Jewish guys, Ethiopians, Australians, they all loved the single, he says. "It's got all these pop accolades, but it also really connected in the hood. It's what you attempt to do every time you walk into the studio." Just to be clear, he would also like the Album of the Year Grammy, thank you very much. He doesn't, however, believe "They Say," his song with Common, should win for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration. "I just think it was a bullshit nomination," he says. "You're telling me that if someone sat you down in a room for thirty minutes and told you to come up with a list of all the best collaborations of the year, you would come up with 'They Say'? Not to sound arrogant, but how was 'They Say' nominated over 'Heard 'Em Say,' and how was that song nominated over 'Gold Digger'? And why wasn't 'Gold Digger' nominated for Best Rap Song? That's a gimme Grammy."

If he's afraid that his statements will hurt his chances of dragging home a wagon filled with miniature gold-plated phonographs, he's not letting on. "Kanye is always opinionated and outspoken, and now that it's Grammy time he turns into a house nigga?" he asks, referring to himself in the third person. "Come on. That's not even realistic."

PITBULLS

TROUBLEMAKERS
What pit bulls can teach us about profiling.
by MALCOLM GLADWELL

One afternoon last February, Guy Clairoux picked up his two-and-a half-year-old son, Jayden, from day care and walked him back to their house in the west end of Ottawa, Ontario. They were almost home. Jayden was straggling behind, and, as his father’s back was turned, a pit bull jumped over a back-yard fence and lunged at Jayden. “The dog had his head in its mouth and started to do this shake,” Clairoux’s wife, JoAnn Hartley, said later. As she watched in horror, two more pit bulls jumped over the fence, joining in the assault. She and Clairoux came running, and he punched the first of the dogs in the head, until it dropped Jayden, and then he threw the boy toward his mother. Hartley fell on her son, protecting him with her body. “JoAnn!” Clairoux cried out, as all three dogs descended on his wife. “Cover your neck, cover your neck.” A neighbor, sitting by her window, screamed for help. Her partner and a friend, Mario Gauthier, ran outside. A neighborhood boy grabbed his hockey stick and threw it to Gauthier. He began hitting one of the dogs over the head, until the stick broke. “They wouldn’t stop,” Gauthier said. “As soon as you’d stop, they’d attack again. I’ve never seen a dog go so crazy. They were like Tasmanian devils.” The police came. The dogs were pulled away, and the Clairouxes and one of the rescuers were taken to the hospital. Five days later, the Ontario legislature banned the ownership of pit bulls. “Just as we wouldn’t let a great white shark in a swimming pool,” the province’s attorney general, Michael Bryant, had said, “maybe we shouldn’t have these animals on the civilized streets.”

Pit bulls, descendants of the bulldogs used in the nineteenth century for bull baiting and dogfighting, have been bred for “gameness,” and thus a lowered inhibition to aggression. Most dogs fight as a last resort, when staring and growling fail. A pit bull is willing to fight with little or no provocation. Pit bulls seem to have a high tolerance for pain, making it possible for them to fight to the point of exhaustion. Whereas guard dogs like German shepherds usually attempt to restrain those they perceive to be threats by biting and holding, pit bulls try to inflict the maximum amount of damage on an opponent. They bite, hold, shake, and tear. They don’t growl or assume an aggressive facial expression as warning. They just attack. “They are often insensitive to behaviors that usually stop aggression,” one scientific review of the breed states. “For example, dogs not bred for fighting usually display defeat in combat by rolling over and exposing a light underside. On several occasions, pit bulls have been reported to disembowel dogs offering this signal of submission.” In epidemiological studies of dog bites, the pit bull is overrepresented among dogs known to have seriously injured or killed human beings, and, as a result, pit bulls have been banned or restricted in several Western European countries, China, and numerous cities and municipalities across North America. Pit bulls are dangerous.

Of course, not all pit bulls are dangerous. Most don’t bite anyone. Meanwhile, Dobermans and Great Danes and German shepherds and Rottweilers are frequent biters as well, and the dog that recently mauled a Frenchwoman so badly that she was given the world’s first face transplant was, of all things, a Labrador retriever. When we say that pit bulls are dangerous, we are making a generalization, just as insurance companies use generalizations when they charge young men more for car insurance than the rest of us (even though many young men are perfectly good drivers), and doctors use generalizations when they tell overweight middle-aged men to get their cholesterol checked (even though many overweight middle-aged men won’t experience heart trouble). Because we don’t know which dog will bite someone or who will have a heart attack or which drivers will get in an accident, we can make predictions only by generalizing. As the legal scholar Frederick Schauer has observed, “painting with a broad brush” is “an often inevitable and frequently desirable dimension of our decision-making lives.”

Another word for generalization, though, is “stereotype,” and stereotypes are usually not considered desirable dimensions of our decision-making lives. The process of moving from the specific to the general is both necessary and perilous. A doctor could, with some statistical support, generalize about men of a certain age and weight. But what if generalizing from other traits—such as high blood pressure, family history, and smoking—saved more lives? Behind each generalization is a choice of what factors to leave in and what factors to leave out, and those choices can prove surprisingly complicated. After the attack on Jayden Clairoux, the Ontario government chose to make a generalization about pit bulls. But it could also have chosen to generalize about powerful dogs, or about the kinds of people who own powerful dogs, or about small children, or about back-yard fences—or, indeed, about any number of other things to do with dogs and people and places. How do we know when we’ve made the right generalization?

In July of last year, following the transit bombings in London, the New York City Police Department announced that it would send officers into the subways to conduct random searches of passengers’ bags. On the face of it, doing random searches in the hunt for terrorists—as opposed to being guided by generalizations—seems like a silly idea. As a columnist in New York wrote at the time, “Not just ‘most’ but nearly every jihadi who has attacked a Western European or American target is a young Arab or Pakistani man. In other words, you can predict with a fair degree of certainty what an Al Qaeda terrorist looks like. Just as we have always known what Mafiosi look like—even as we understand that only an infinitesimal fraction of Italian-Americans are members of the mob.”

But wait: do we really know what mafiosi look like? In “The Godfather,” where most of us get our knowledge of the Mafia, the male members of the Corleone family were played by Marlon Brando, who was of Irish and French ancestry, James Caan, who is Jewish, and two Italian-Americans, Al Pacino and John Cazale. To go by “The Godfather,” mafiosi look like white men of European descent, which, as generalizations go, isn’t terribly helpful. Figuring out what an Islamic terrorist looks like isn’t any easier. Muslims are not like the Amish: they don’t come dressed in identifiable costumes. And they don’t look like basketball players; they don’t come in predictable shapes and sizes. Islam is a religion that spans the globe.

“We have a policy against racial profiling,” Raymond Kelly, New York City’s police commissioner, told me. “I put it in here in March of the first year I was here. It’s the wrong thing to do, and it’s also ineffective. If you look at the London bombings, you have three British citizens of Pakistani descent. You have Germaine Lindsay, who is Jamaican. You have the next crew, on July 21st, who are East African. You have a Chechen woman in Moscow in early 2004 who blows herself up in the subway station. So whom do you profile? Look at New York City. Forty per cent of New Yorkers are born outside the country. Look at the diversity here. Who am I supposed to profile?”

Kelly was pointing out what might be called profiling’s “category problem.” Generalizations involve matching a category of people to a behavior or trait—overweight middle-aged men to heart-attack risk, young men to bad driving. But, for that process to work, you have to be able both to define and to identify the category you are generalizing about. “You think that terrorists aren’t aware of how easy it is to be characterized by ethnicity?” Kelly went on. “Look at the 9/11 hijackers. They came here. They shaved. They went to topless bars. They wanted to blend in. They wanted to look like they were part of the American dream. These are not dumb people. Could a terrorist dress up as a Hasidic Jew and walk into the subway, and not be profiled? Yes. I think profiling is just nuts.”

Pit-bull bans involve a category problem, too, because pit bulls, as it happens, aren’t a single breed. The name refers to dogs belonging to a number of related breeds, such as the American Staffordshire terrier, the Staffordshire bull terrier, and the American pit bull terrier—all of which share a square and muscular body, a short snout, and a sleek, short-haired coat. Thus the Ontario ban prohibits not only these three breeds but any “dog that has an appearance and physical characteristics that are substantially similar” to theirs; the term of art is “pit bull-type” dogs. But what does that mean? Is a cross between an American pit bull terrier and a golden retriever a pit bull-type dog or a golden retriever-type dog? If thinking about muscular terriers as pit bulls is a generalization, then thinking about dangerous dogs as anything substantially similar to a pit bull is a generalization about a generalization. “The way a lot of these laws are written, pit bulls are whatever they say they are,” Lora Brashears, a kennel manager in Pennsylvania, says. “And for most people it just means big, nasty, scary dog that bites.”

The goal of pit-bull bans, obviously, isn’t to prohibit dogs that look like pit bulls. The pit-bull appearance is a proxy for the pit-bull temperament—for some trait that these dogs share. But “pit bullness” turns out to be elusive as well. The supposedly troublesome characteristics of the pit-bull type—its gameness, its determination, its insensitivity to pain—are chiefly directed toward other dogs. Pit bulls were not bred to fight humans. On the contrary: a dog that went after spectators, or its handler, or the trainer, or any of the other people involved in making a dogfighting dog a good dogfighter was usually put down. (The rule in the pit-bull world was “Man-eaters die.”)

A Georgia-based group called the American Temperament Test Society has put twenty-five thousand dogs through a ten-part standardized drill designed to assess a dog’s stability, shyness, aggressiveness, and friendliness in the company of people. A handler takes a dog on a six-foot lead and judges its reaction to stimuli such as gunshots, an umbrella opening, and a weirdly dressed stranger approaching in a threatening way. Eighty-four per cent of the pit bulls that have been given the test have passed, which ranks pit bulls ahead of beagles, Airedales, bearded collies, and all but one variety of dachshund. “We have tested somewhere around a thousand pit-bull-type dogs,” Carl Herkstroeter, the president of the A.T.T.S., says. “I’ve tested half of them. And of the number I’ve tested I have disqualified one pit bull because of aggressive tendencies. They have done extremely well. They have a good temperament. They are very good with children.” It can even be argued that the same traits that make the pit bull so aggressive toward other dogs are what make it so nice to humans. “There are a lot of pit bulls these days who are licensed therapy dogs,” the writer Vicki Hearne points out. “Their stability and resoluteness make them excellent for work with people who might not like a more bouncy, flibbertigibbet sort of dog. When pit bulls set out to provide comfort, they are as resolute as they are when they fight, but what they are resolute about is being gentle. And, because they are fearless, they can be gentle with anybody.”

Then which are the pit bulls that get into trouble? “The ones that the legislation is geared toward have aggressive tendencies that are either bred in by the breeder, trained in by the trainer, or reinforced in by the owner,” Herkstroeter says. A mean pit bull is a dog that has been turned mean, by selective breeding, by being cross-bred with a bigger, human-aggressive breed like German shepherds or Rottweilers, or by being conditioned in such a way that it begins to express hostility to human beings. A pit bull is dangerous to people, then, not to the extent that it expresses its essential pit bullness but to the extent that it deviates from it. A pit-bull ban is a generalization about a generalization about a trait that is not, in fact, general. That’s a category problem.

One of the puzzling things about New York City is that, after the enormous and well-publicized reductions in crime in the mid-nineteen-nineties, the crime rate has continued to fall. In the past two years, for instance, murder in New York has declined by almost ten per cent, rape by twelve per cent, and burglary by more than eighteen per cent. Just in the last year, auto theft went down 11.8 per cent. On a list of two hundred and forty cities in the United States with a population of a hundred thousand or more, New York City now ranks two hundred-and-twenty-second in crime, down near the bottom with Fontana, California, and Port St. Lucie, Florida. In the nineteen-nineties, the crime decrease was attributed to big obvious changes in city life and government—the decline of the drug trade, the gentrification of Brooklyn, the successful implementation of “broken windows” policing. But all those big changes happened a decade ago. Why is crime still falling?

The explanation may have to do with a shift in police tactics. The N.Y.P.D. has a computerized map showing, in real time, precisely where serious crimes are being reported, and at any moment the map typically shows a few dozen constantly shifting high-crime hot spots, some as small as two or three blocks square. What the N.Y.P.D. has done, under Commissioner Kelly, is to use the map to establish “impact zones,” and to direct newly graduated officers—who used to be distributed proportionally to precincts across the city—to these zones, in some cases doubling the number of officers in the immediate neighborhood. “We took two-thirds of our graduating class and linked them with experienced officers, and focussed on those areas,” Kelly said. “Well, what has happened is that over time we have averaged about a thirty-five-per-cent crime reduction in impact zones.”

For years, experts have maintained that the incidence of violent crime is “inelastic” relative to police presence—that people commit serious crimes because of poverty and psychopathology and cultural dysfunction, along with spontaneous motives and opportunities. The presence of a few extra officers down the block, it was thought, wouldn’t make much difference. But the N.Y.P.D. experience suggests otherwise. More police means that some crimes are prevented, others are more easily solved, and still others are displaced—pushed out of the troubled neighborhood—which Kelly says is a good thing, because it disrupts the patterns and practices and social networks that serve as the basis for lawbreaking. In other words, the relation between New York City (a category) and criminality (a trait) is unstable, and this kind of instability is another way in which our generalizations can be derailed.

Why, for instance, is it a useful rule of thumb that Kenyans are good distance runners? It’s not just that it’s statistically supportable today. It’s that it has been true for almost half a century, and that in Kenya the tradition of distance running is sufficiently rooted that something cataclysmic would have to happen to dislodge it. By contrast, the generalization that New York City is a crime-ridden place was once true and now, manifestly, isn’t. People who moved to sunny retirement communities like Port St. Lucie because they thought they were much safer than New York are suddenly in the position of having made the wrong bet.

The instability issue is a problem for profiling in law enforcement as well. The law professor David Cole once tallied up some of the traits that Drug Enforcement Administration agents have used over the years in making generalizations about suspected smugglers. Here is a sample:

Arrived late at night; arrived early in the morning; arrived in afternoon; one of the first to deplane; one of the last to deplane; deplaned in the middle; purchased ticket at the airport; made reservation on short notice; bought coach ticket; bought first-class ticket; used one-way ticket; used round-trip ticket; paid for ticket with cash; paid for ticket with small denomination currency; paid for ticket with large denomination currency; made local telephone calls after deplaning; made long distance telephone call after deplaning; pretended to make telephone call; traveled from New York to Los Angeles; traveled to Houston; carried no luggage; carried brand-new luggage; carried a small bag; carried a medium-sized bag; carried two bulky garment bags; carried two heavy suitcases; carried four pieces of luggage; overly protective of luggage; disassociated self from luggage; traveled alone; traveled with a companion; acted too nervous; acted too calm; made eye contact with officer; avoided making eye contact with officer; wore expensive clothing and jewelry; dressed casually; went to restroom after deplaning; walked rapidly through airport; walked slowly through airport; walked aimlessly through airport; left airport by taxi; left airport by limousine; left airport by private car; left airport by hotel courtesy van.

Some of these reasons for suspicion are plainly absurd, suggesting that there’s no particular rationale to the generalizations used by D.E.A. agents in stopping suspected drug smugglers. A way of making sense of the list, though, is to think of it as a catalogue of unstable traits. Smugglers may once have tended to buy one-way tickets in cash and carry two bulky suitcases. But they don’t have to. They can easily switch to round-trip tickets bought with a credit card, or a single carry-on bag, without losing their capacity to smuggle. There’s a second kind of instability here as well. Maybe the reason some of them switched from one-way tickets and two bulky suitcases was that law enforcement got wise to those habits, so the smugglers did the equivalent of what the jihadis seemed to have done in London, when they switched to East Africans because the scrutiny of young Arab and Pakistani men grew too intense. It doesn’t work to generalize about a relationship between a category and a trait when that relationship isn’t stable—or when the act of generalizing may itself change the basis of the generalization.

Before Kelly became the New York police commissioner, he served as the head of the U.S. Customs Service, and while he was there he overhauled the criteria that border-control officers use to identify and search suspected smugglers. There had been a list of forty-three suspicious traits. He replaced it with a list of six broad criteria. Is there something suspicious about their physical appearance? Are they nervous? Is there specific intelligence targeting this person? Does the drug-sniffing dog raise an alarm? Is there something amiss in their paperwork or explanations? Has contraband been found that implicates this person?

You’ll find nothing here about race or gender or ethnicity, and nothing here about expensive jewelry or deplaning at the middle or the end, or walking briskly or walking aimlessly. Kelly removed all the unstable generalizations, forcing customs officers to make generalizations about things that don’t change from one day or one month to the next. Some percentage of smugglers will always be nervous, will always get their story wrong, and will always be caught by the dogs. That’s why those kinds of inferences are more reliable than the ones based on whether smugglers are white or black, or carry one bag or two. After Kelly’s reforms, the number of searches conducted by the Customs Service dropped by about seventy-five per cent, but the number of successful seizures improved by twenty-five per cent. The officers went from making fairly lousy decisions about smugglers to making pretty good ones. “We made them more efficient and more effective at what they were doing,” Kelly said.

Does the notion of a pit-bull menace rest on a stable or an unstable generalization? The best data we have on breed dangerousness are fatal dog bites, which serve as a useful indicator of just how much havoc certain kinds of dogs are causing. Between the late nineteen-seventies and the late nineteen-nineties, more than twenty-five breeds were involved in fatal attacks in the United States. Pit-bull breeds led the pack, but the variability from year to year is considerable. For instance, in the period from 1981 to 1982 fatalities were caused by five pit bulls, three mixed breeds, two St. Bernards, two German-shepherd mixes, a pure-bred German shepherd, a husky type, a Doberman, a Chow Chow, a Great Dane, a wolf-dog hybrid, a husky mix, and a pit-bull mix—but no Rottweilers. In 1995 and 1996, the list included ten Rottweilers, four pit bulls, two German shepherds, two huskies, two Chow Chows, two wolf-dog hybrids, two shepherd mixes, a Rottweiler mix, a mixed breed, a Chow Chow mix, and a Great Dane. The kinds of dogs that kill people change over time, because the popularity of certain breeds changes over time. The one thing that doesn’t change is the total number of the people killed by dogs. When we have more problems with pit bulls, it’s not necessarily a sign that pit bulls are more dangerous than other dogs. It could just be a sign that pit bulls have become more numerous.

“I’ve seen virtually every breed involved in fatalities, including Pomeranians and everything else, except a beagle or a basset hound,” Randall Lockwood, a senior vice-president of the A.S.P.C.A. and one of the country’s leading dogbite experts, told me. “And there’s always one or two deaths attributable to malamutes or huskies, although you never hear people clamoring for a ban on those breeds. When I first started looking at fatal dog attacks, they largely involved dogs like German shepherds and shepherd mixes and St. Bernards—which is probably why Stephen King chose to make Cujo a St. Bernard, not a pit bull. I haven’t seen a fatality involving a Doberman for decades, whereas in the nineteen-seventies they were quite common. If you wanted a mean dog, back then, you got a Doberman. I don’t think I even saw my first pit-bull case until the middle to late nineteen-eighties, and I didn’t start seeing Rottweilers until I’d already looked at a few hundred fatal dog attacks. Now those dogs make up the preponderance of fatalities. The point is that it changes over time. It’s a reflection of what the dog of choice is among people who want to own an aggressive dog.”

There is no shortage of more stable generalizations about dangerous dogs, though. A 1991 study in Denver, for example, compared a hundred and seventy-eight dogs with a history of biting people with a random sample of a hundred and seventy-eight dogs with no history of biting. The breeds were scattered: German shepherds, Akitas, and Chow Chows were among those most heavily represented. (There were no pit bulls among the biting dogs in the study, because Denver banned pit bulls in 1989.) But a number of other, more stable factors stand out. The biters were 6.2 times as likely to be male than female, and 2.6 times as likely to be intact than neutered. The Denver study also found that biters were 2.8 times as likely to be chained as unchained. “About twenty per cent of the dogs involved in fatalities were chained at the time, and had a history of long-term chaining,” Lockwood said. “Now, are they chained because they are aggressive or aggressive because they are chained? It’s a bit of both. These are animals that have not had an opportunity to become socialized to people. They don’t necessarily even know that children are small human beings. They tend to see them as prey.”

In many cases, vicious dogs are hungry or in need of medical attention. Often, the dogs had a history of aggressive incidents, and, overwhelmingly, dog-bite victims were children (particularly small boys) who were physically vulnerable to attack and may also have unwittingly done things to provoke the dog, like teasing it, or bothering it while it was eating. The strongest connection of all, though, is between the trait of dog viciousness and certain kinds of dog owners. In about a quarter of fatal dog-bite cases, the dog owners were previously involved in illegal fighting. The dogs that bite people are, in many cases, socially isolated because their owners are socially isolated, and they are vicious because they have owners who want a vicious dog. The junk-yard German shepherd—which looks as if it would rip your throat out—and the German-shepherd guide dog are the same breed. But they are not the same dog, because they have owners with different intentions.

“A fatal dog attack is not just a dog bite by a big or aggressive dog,” Lockwood went on. “It is usually a perfect storm of bad human-canine interactions—the wrong dog, the wrong background, the wrong history in the hands of the wrong person in the wrong environmental situation. I’ve been involved in many legal cases involving fatal dog attacks, and, certainly, it’s my impression that these are generally cases where everyone is to blame. You’ve got the unsupervised three-year-old child wandering in the neighborhood killed by a starved, abused dog owned by the dogfighting boyfriend of some woman who doesn’t know where her child is. It’s not old Shep sleeping by the fire who suddenly goes bonkers. Usually there are all kinds of other warning signs.”



Jayden Clairoux was attacked by Jada, a pit-bull terrier, and her two pit-bull–bullmastiff puppies, Agua and Akasha. The dogs were owned by a twenty-one-year-old man named Shridev Café, who worked in construction and did odd jobs. Five weeks before the Clairoux attack, Café’s three dogs got loose and attacked a sixteen-year-old boy and his four-year-old half brother while they were ice skating. The boys beat back the animals with a snow shovel and escaped into a neighbor’s house. Café was fined, and he moved the dogs to his seventeen-year-old girlfriend’s house. This was not the first time that he ran into trouble last year; a few months later, he was charged with domestic assault, and, in another incident, involving a street brawl, with aggravated assault. “Shridev has personal issues,” Cheryl Smith, a canine-behavior specialist who consulted on the case, says. “He’s certainly not a very mature person.” Agua and Akasha were now about seven months old. The court order in the wake of the first attack required that they be muzzled when they were outside the home and kept in an enclosed yard. But Café did not muzzle them, because, he said later, he couldn’t afford muzzles, and apparently no one from the city ever came by to force him to comply. A few times, he talked about taking his dogs to obedience classes, but never did. The subject of neutering them also came up—particularly Agua, the male—but neutering cost a hundred dollars, which he evidently thought was too much money, and when the city temporarily confiscated his animals after the first attack it did not neuter them, either, because Ottawa does not have a policy of preëmptively neutering dogs that bite people.

On the day of the second attack, according to some accounts, a visitor came by the house of Café’s girlfriend, and the dogs got wound up. They were put outside, where the snowbanks were high enough so that the back-yard fence could be readily jumped. Jayden Clairoux stopped and stared at the dogs, saying, “Puppies, puppies.” His mother called out to his father. His father came running, which is the kind of thing that will rile up an aggressive dog. The dogs jumped the fence, and Agua took Jayden’s head in his mouth and started to shake. It was a textbook dog-biting case: unneutered, ill-trained, charged-up dogs, with a history of aggression and an irresponsible owner, somehow get loose, and set upon a small child. The dogs had already passed through the animal bureaucracy of Ottawa, and the city could easily have prevented the second attack with the right kind of generalization—a generalization based not on breed but on the known and meaningful connection between dangerous dogs and negligent owners. But that would have required someone to track down Shridev Café, and check to see whether he had bought muzzles, and someone to send the dogs to be neutered after the first attack, and an animal-control law that insured that those whose dogs attack small children forfeit their right to have a dog. It would have required, that is, a more exacting set of generalizations to be more exactingly applied. It’s always easier just to ban the breed.



NYTIMES ON CANADA'S ELECTION

A New Leader in Canada Means...

Paul Martin, the prime minister of Canada, ran an attack ad during his unsuccessful campaign that said: "A Harper victory will put a smile on George W. Bush's face. Well, at least someone will be happy, eh?"

Well, Mr. Bush probably did smile. Stephen Harper — the Conservative Party leader, free-enterprise economist, skeptic of the Kyoto climate change protocol and supporter of the American-led invasion of Iraq — won the national elections on Monday. This might be the first time an American administration took serious notice of a Canadian election since 1988, when Brian Mulroney, a Progressive Conservative, campaigned in support of free trade with the United States and won.

But how much of a difference will the change in government make to the United States? Probably, not a whole lot.

Liberal Americans will still be able to point to Canada's liberal social programs. With only 124 seats out of 308 in the House of Commons, Mr. Harper won't be able to end same-sex marriage or national health insurance, even if he wanted to.

Mr. Harper has already promised not to send troops to Iraq, and the basic bilateral trade and immigration arrangements will probably not change much either, although the Bush administration may help Mr. Harper by working to reduce United States tariffs on Canadian softwood lumber, which would also make building a home south of the border a bit cheaper. Mr. Harper can also be expected to boost border patrols and intelligence sharing with Washington.

Even symbolic displays of warmer ties between the two countries may be off limits. In 1985, Prime Minister Mulroney and President Ronald Reagan jointly sang "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling," known in Canada as the Shamrock Summit. Mr. Mulroney was widely mocked for showing too much coziness with the Americans.

Mr. Harper seems to have learned this lesson. When the United States ambassador to Canada, David H. Wilkins, gave a speech last December, implicitly admonishing Mr. Martin for introducing the United States into the campaign, Mr. Harper carefully kept his distance.

"I don't think foreign ambassadors should be expressing their views or intervening in an election," he said.

WHAT DO THEY DO WITH DECEASED ZOO ANIMALS?
Slate.com

Veterinarians at the National Zoo put down two animals this week: an arthritic, 40-year-old elephant named Toni and a 13-year-old cheetah with kidney problems named Wandu. What happens to zoo animals when they die?

First, a necropsy is performed, and then the remains are cremated. The carcasses of all animals that die at the National Zoo—including those that wander into the park from outside—are brought to an on-site pathology lab for thorough examination. Zoo staffers identify the cause of death (if it isn't already known) and preserve tissue samples that might be important for research or education. (The zoo maintains an archive of formalin-soaked specimens from every animal that's died there since the 1970s; the Bronx Zoo has tissue samples dating back to 1920.) After the necropsy, Toni's carcass—which weighs thousands of pounds—was shipped to a lab in College Park, Md., where it will be incinerated starting Friday. The process should take about 24 hours.

Toni, like other elephants, is part of a national conservation program that has its own protocol for necropsies, as well as an updated list of which body parts should be saved. Instructions for elephant necropsies, for example, suggest a "chain saw, axe, or reciprocating saw to cut through the cranium" and "carts on rollers to move heavy parts." (Click here for a document that describes the procedure.) The elephant parts now in demand for research purposes include intact brains, eyes, and "two whole large thoracic ribs."

Not all species are part of a national program, and not all zoos keep tissue samples from every single animal. Most of the time, parts are donated as needed. Scientists who study exotic species can ask a zoo ahead of time to save a certain body part or blood sample. The zoo's education department might also receive some excised parts. Docents could use a tortoiseshell or a patch of cheetah skin, for example, as a part of educational presentations. Natural-history museums often have a need for skulls and other bones; the Smithsonian (which runs the National Zoo) sometimes requests carcasses for their displays of taxidermic critters.

Laws on the final disposal of a dead animal vary from place to place, but incineration seems to be the most popular method. The first elephant at the Baltimore Zoo, Mary Ann, received an official burial in a Maryland graveyard when she died in 1941.

MOVIE AWARDS
NY Times

And the Documentary Nominees Aren't . . .

COME Oscar night, the nominees for best documentary will most likely be relegated once again to the back row of the orchestra. And, along with the balcony, what will again cast a shadow on the winner are the category's seemingly perennial controversies.

Each year, the documentary branch of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences winnows the eligible films down to a shortlist - this year, 15 movies, 5 of which will receive nominations on Tuesday and 1 the Oscar. Just as traditional are the subsequent laments about what was nominated, what was not and why.

This year's shortlist includes the obvious front-runner for the prize, "March of the Penguins," Luc Jacquet's study of the reproductive cycle of the emperor penguin. The movie has made more than $77 million - a high profile and high profits no longer count as handicaps in winning this award.

Why, then, did Werner Herzog's much-admired "Grizzly Man" not make the cut? The film, about the naturalist and ecologist Timothy Treadwell, who was killed by the same Alaskan grizzly bears that he studied, was chosen best nonfiction film last month by the New York Film Critics Circle.

Simple explanation, said the documentarian Arthur Dong, a member of both the documentary executive committee and the academy's board of governors: "It didn't get enough votes." He explained that volunteers from the documentary branch conducted initial screenings of all eligible films, voted and put their highest vote-getters on the shortlist.

How many volunteers? Mr. Dong referred the question to the academy's publicity office. A spokeswoman there declined to answer. So it could be two people? she was asked. "I hope not," she answered. For years, accusations of cronyism and bad taste plagued the selection of Oscar documentaries - in the 1990's, films that were denied nominations included the epic basketball documentary "Hoop Dreams"; "Crumb," the portrait of the maverick cartoonist R. Crumb; the true-crime documentary "Brother's Keeper"; Michael Moore's debut, "Roger & Me"; and "The Thin Blue Line," in which Errol Morris (who finally won for his 2003 documentary "The Fog of War") dismantled the case against a man on death row in Texas.

Moreover, films with Holocaust or other Jewish themes were seen to have a lock on the category: Between 1995 and 2000, the winners included "Anne Frank Remembered," three other Holocaust films - "The Long Way Home," "The Last Days" and "Into the Arms of Strangers: Stories of the Kindertransport" - and "One Day in September," about the 1972 Munich Olympics murders. "There are not many sure things in life, but that was a sure thing," Spike Lee said in 1998, when his "4 Little Girls" - about the 1963 Birmingham church bombing - lost to "The Long Way Home."

What Mr. Morris once referred to as the "Mother Teresa school of filmmaking" - the perception that if a film's subject is exemplary, the film must be, too - has always held sway at the academy. So has the voters' penchant for movies about the mentally or physically disabled. This year seems no different: both "Unknown White Male," about a man who loses his memory, and "Murderball," a forceful movie about wheelchair-bound rugby players, are on the shortlist. So is "39 Pounds of Love," about the painfully wizened Ami Ankilewitz, a victim of spinal muscular atrophy, who seeks to travel across the United States. It is said to be his long-held dream, but there is nothing in the film that does not feel stage-managed.

However the documentary nominations are ultimately decided, some films - as usual - were out of the running before the shortlist voting even began. Others were considered certainties, including "After Innocence" by Jessica Sanders, whose mother Freida Lee Mock, is the head of the documentary branch. Mr. Dong said Ms. Mock had recused herself from the voting, just as she did when her own 1994 film, "Maya Lin: A Strong Clear Vision," won the Oscar.

There's an inherent conflict between how the academy determines eligibility and how most documentary filmmakers make money. Because European television has government money and spends it on films that tackle controversial subjects, American documentarians often look there for financing, in exchange for the chance to show the film on the air.

To be considered for an Oscar, however, a documentary must have made its debut in theaters and played for at least a week in New York or Los Angeles, and films that appeared only on television - or even those that appeared on television before moving to theaters - are disqualified.

Some - the BBC in Britain, HBO in the United States - have been willing to delay broadcast to preserve a film's Oscar eligibility. But that doesn't mean that they are happy about the rules.

"I do not think it should matter whether films have been broadcast on TV outside the U.S.," said Nick Fraser, editor of the BBC's "Storyville" series. Agnès Varda's meditation on aging and eating, "The Gleaners and I," was cited as one of the best films of 2000 by many of the major American critics' groups, but it was ineligible for an Oscar because it had been broadcast in Italy and France before opening in the United States. And last year, "Control Room," in which Jehane Noujaim examined American and Arab news coverage in the opening stages of the Iraq War, was similarly shut out, even though it was shelved by its producers for six months before being shown on European television; in the interim the required blackout period had been extended to nine months.

That rule has since been eliminated. But it doesn't help Eugene Jarecki.

The director of "Why We Fight," which opened on Jan. 20, Mr. Jarecki has produced an ambitious treatise on the American military-industrial complex, the philosophy of perpetual war and the prescience of Dwight D. Eisenhower. It won him the prize for best documentary at the Sundance Film Festival last January - just as the documentary branch announced another set of rule changes.

Ms. Mock said in an academy press release that "films with a true theatrical rollout would be 'exempt' - in quotes - from the television blackout provision," said Mr. Jarecki, whose previous documentary was "The Trials of Henry Kissinger." Mr. Jarecki's legal counsel, John Sloss; members of the Sundance Institute; and executives at the BBC concluded that the academy had at last recognized that a television debut is sometimes a financial necessity for documentaries. Mr. Jarecki allowed "Why We Fight" to be shown on British television.

But according to the academy, Mr. Fraser said, the film violated the broadcast ban. "We were informed that these clauses had been dropped," he said. "Had we known that the rules had retained some obligation to show first in a cinema in America, we would have rescheduled our screening."

Mr. Dong said the rule banning broadcast before theatrical release applies to all Oscar contenders, not just documentaries. But he conceded that some of the documentary branch rules are about survival - at one point the academy's board of governors wanted to eliminate the short-documentary category altogether and banish documentary features to the science and technical awards, which are presented in a separate ceremony.

"I think the academy, with the best of intentions," Mr. Jarecki said, "sought to make the rules evolve in a way that recognized the realities facing the financing of certain documentary films, to make it more relevant whether a film had a theatrical life in America than what its television pedigree was. That was clearly the direction they were moving in."

MUSIC & POETRY

K-Fed grooving to Popozao.

James Lipton reciting the lyrics to Popozao.

MUSIC MADNESS MERCREDI

An eclectic selection of songs for you to download* to your iPod:

With a Gun - The Minus Five (with Wilco)

Float On - Ben Lee

Interlock - Stereolab

Excursions into Oh A-Oh! - Stereolab

I Know I'm Losing You - Rod Stewart

Hey There Mrs. Lovely (Destroyer Sessions Demo) - Ryan Adams

Papa was a clock - Coldplay vs The Temptations

Juicebox Rock - The Strokes vs. Peaches

Radio Houston - Radiohead vs. Whitney Houston

Wilson Pickett - Mustang Sally

Nothing You Can Do (b-side from vinyl) - Wilson Pickett

Spit on a Stranger (Pavement cover) - Kathryn Williams

Heartbeat - Annie

Dreams - Cat Power

Papa was a Rodeo - The Magnetic Fields

Thunder Road (Bruce Spingsteen cover) - Bonnie Prince Billy & Tortoise

Star Witness - Neko Case

Bachelorette (Mark Bell remix) - Bjork

Daybreaker (Four Tet remix) - Beth Orton

Just a Little Lovin' - Carmen McRae

Time (The Revelator) - Ryan Adams

Blue Room - Chet Baker

Don't Explain - Billie Holliday

Yes, Baby - Big Mama Thornton

Am I the Same Girl? - Barbara Acklin (a favourite)

You are what you love - Jenny Lewis

Deus Ibi Est - Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan

* - hosted elsewhere, and may disappear without warning...


Sisley, Alfred
L'inondation - Route de Saint-Germain
The Flood on the Road to Saint-Germain
1876
Oil on canvas

RECIPES

Fig and Pear hors d'oeuvre
1 cup finely diced figs (either fresh or dried)
1 tsp. minced fresh ginger
1/4 cup Madeira, port wine or full-bodied red wine
2 tbsp. sugar
1 sprig fresh rosemary
1 pear; peeled and chopped into small pieces
1 baguette, thinly sliced and lightly toasted
1 tub Boursin

Simmer together first five ingredients for 5 minutes in a covered small pot. Add pear, and simmer for an additional 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Remove rosemary.
Spread Boursin thinly on c ooled baguette slices. Top with a dollop of fruit compote. Serve immediately. Compote can be made in advance and refrigerated.

Seafood Chowder

Fry up some celery and onions in butter till softened. Add about 3 Tbsps. flour and stir till mixed. Add a can of clam nectar and about an equal amount of light cream. Stir till mixed well and add a potato or two cut up into cubes. Simmer for about 10 minutes or till potatoes soften.

Buy some seafood that you like - I got about 5 prawns, a small piece of salmon and some chunks of snapper and cod. I then fried them all quickly in butter till barely cooked, threw them in the soup cut up into smallish pieces. Lots of pepper, and any herbs you want.

Or there is Ian McEwan/Henry Perowne's Fish Stew recipe.

MUSIC: CAT POWER
A-
from Stylus Magazine

The reclamation of the American South has not been limited to hip-hop. An increasing number of artists—Frank Black and My Morning Jacket to name a couple—have recently tapped the region’s resources, from dated recording equipment to idle session warriors. These efforts have gone far beyond R.E.M. and Elephant Six’s Faulkner-ized mysticism, focusing less on the Dixie’s arcane, gothic romance and more on the enduring sonic memories the region birthed through the first half of the 20th century. Cat Power’s Chan Marshall is the latest student of the South, her musical ideology inching closer to her native Georgia since 1998’s Moon Pix. The Greatest, however, is the most fruitful and complete work to come from the underground’s recent fixation, an album of surprising compromise and lasting faith.

Recorded in a week with a group of Memphis session veterans—Mabon and Leroy Hodges among them—on The Greatest Marshall effectively receives her Southern inheritance: buoyant horn fills, mercury Telecaster leads, sawing violins. Dusty Springfield’s Dusty in Memphis is the obvious touchstone, but Springfield defied expectations by approaching Southern soul as a white, British diva. Marshall is a daughter of these sounds, and The Greatest sounds less like a reach for new sonic frontiers as the hazy underbelly of the folk-blues skeletons Marshall has been propping up for over a decade.

Springfield was famously too intimidated to sing in front of the legendary band she’d contracted; in contrast, Marshall sounds settled, if not completely comfortable, in front of Hodges and company, her sparse piano chords allowing the band ample room to mold their infallible country-soul. Infallible, and inspiring: the true value in The Greatest lies in the way the band consistently shifts Marshall just slightly out of her comfort zone, forcing her to maneuver tempos, textures, and themes foreign to her work.

This is crucial. Marshall has been predisposed to drifting on past albums, fueled in no small part by her singular and often isolated sonic palette. She is afforded no such luxury on the spry, swinging “Could We,” arguably as bright as Marshall has ever sounded. “Islands” features a familiar melancholy, but the song’s Hawaiian pedal steel intro coerces Marshall to adapt. And adapt she does, transforming a too-familiar pining into high personal drama, singing, “I don’t want no heavy diamonds / And pearls crush my teeth / I just want my sailor / to sail back to me.” Marshall’s fusion of potentially banal sentimentality with desperate, empathetic expression is a constant throughout The Greatest, her newfound economy of image one of the album’s subtle surprises.

The interaction between Marshall’s idiosyncratic songwriting and her band’s traditional ethos manifests fully in “Willie,” a rewrite of Speaking for Tree’s marathon narrative. A lonely horn wonks in the background as Marshall’s coo stirs with an insistent grand piano and cagey guitar chords. Words appear only in spurts: “Second time was through the heart…Willie had a job to do…Please don’t bring him down…He’s on the same side as you.” It is the album’s sonic centerpiece, its sighing majesty the place setter for the blue simplicity of “Where Is My Love,” the wayward “The Moon,” and the Crazy Horse-lite closer “Love and Communication.”

The Greatest isn’t perfect, but its stumbles are neither intrusive nor damning: “Hate” feels reductive, especially at the end of the album, and “Empty Shell” languishes anonymously. But Marshall’s tendency to coast is severed here, a combination of a restless, joyous band and a refreshingly brief twelve-song cycle. It’s important to note that Marshall’s collaboration is no academic exploration, nor is it cut-and-paste revisionism. These songs were born for their arrangements, Marshall’s songwriting tailored for her veteran band the way their tested measures were for her strident, smoky husk.

During the second verse of “Lived in Bars,” Marshall asks “Who’s gonna play drums, guitar, and organ with chorus?” right before the melody goes double-time to keep pace with the newly vibrant brass section, her question answered with a grin. The moment is a miniature of The Greatest’s triumph: Hodges and company humor Marshall for stretches, subtly adding atmosphere and rhythm before forcing her to a higher plane. Marshall’s walking in some tall cotton here, shambling heartily through the South, the blessings of its musical patriarchs clutched proudly in her palm.



BASEBALL

NL EAST
ATLANTA BRAVES Moving in/moving out: The Braves took a double hit when shortstop and leadoff man Rafael Furcal grabbed the Dodgers' big money and closer Kyle Farnsworth took big bucks from the Yankees. The defending NL East champs also saw Julio Franco, a key bench player and half of their first-base platoon, sign with the rival Mets. Atlanta rebounded a bit by trading prospect Andy Marte to the Red Sox for shortstop Edgar Renteria, and bolstered the bullpen somewhat by trading catcher Johnny Estrada to the Diamondbacks for Lance Cormier and Oscar Villarreal. Strangely for the Braves, though, they've been more reactive than proactive.

Lowdown: Second baseman Marcus Giles is penciled in at leadoff right now, and the Braves are still looking for a closer. Chris Reitsma is about all they have. Renteria should return to his All-Star form in the NL. The rest of the team is largely intact, including a solid rotation, a lot of good, young position players and some outstanding veterans such as Giles, Andruw Jones and Chipper Jones. That all bodes well for a run at a 15th straight division title. But as far as getting better, the Braves didn't.

GRADE: Still shopping, still trying to catch up -- C.

FLORIDA MARLINS Moving in/moving out: Faced with an ownership mandate to slash payroll, the Marlins tore down a deep and contending team by trading away tons of talent. Gone are first baseman Carlos Delgado (Mets), pitcher Josh Beckett (Red Sox), infielder Mike Lowell (Red Sox), catcher Paul Lo Duca (Mets), center fielder Juan Pierre (Cubs) and second baseman Luis Castillo (Twins). Free agents Jeff Conine (Orioles), A.J. Burnett (Blue Jays), Todd Jones (Tigers) and Juan Encarnacion (Cardinals) left too.

Lowdown: The franchise's two youngest and best stars, pitcher Dontrelle Willis and now-third baseman Miguel Cabrera, are about all that remains. They'll be joined by a load of possibly talented but definitely untested prospects that the Marlins got in all those trades. The Marlins signed Joe Borowski to close, and Pokey Reese to play second base, but for the most part, you're going to need a scorecard to figure out who these guys are.

GRADE: Gutted, just like the bosses wanted -- B.

NEW YORK METS Moving in/moving out: No NL team benefited more from the Marlins' selloff than the Mets, who traded for first baseman Carlos Delgado and catcher Paul Lo Duca, both of them All-Stars who plug gaping holes. Mets GM Omar Minaya also landed the closer he needed, signing free-agent lefty Billy Wagner (four years, $43 million), cleared some salary by trading right fielder Mike Cameron to the Padres for new right fielder Xavier Nady, and signed solid bench players in Julio Franco and Jose Valentin. A late trade sending surprisingly good starter Jae Seo to the Dodgers in exchange for righty relievers Duaner Sanchez and Steve Schmoll added depth to the bullpen.

Lowdown: Minaya didn't get Manny Ramirez after all that talking, but that is about the only significant player the Mets wanted who wasn't lured to Queens. With a blockbuster offseason, every part of this team is better, with the possible exception of the starting pitching depth now that Seo is gone. The shortcomings at catcher and first base have been filled wonderfully, the bullpen problems are addressed and the bench is better. If the Mets stay relatively healthy and their creaky rotation doesn't fall apart, the Braves will face their toughest test in more than a decade.

GRADE: Money and good trades pay off -- A.

PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES Moving in/moving out: New GM Pat Gillick completed his biggest offseason task when he traded first baseman Jim Thome to the White Sox for center fielder Aaron Rowand. Gillick couldn't talk closer Billy Wagner into staying, so the Phils settled on former Yankees setup man Tom Gordon. The Phils also traded starter Vicente Padilla, signed starter Ryan Franklin and versatile infielder Abraham Nunez and brought in a few bullpen arms in various trades and signings. They also bought a backup catcher.

Lowdown: The Phils spent much of the winter dangling right fielder Bobby Abreu, only to find no takers, and dabbling in other blockbuster talks, only to come up empty. They lost out on Wagner, the closer they really wanted, and are still hurting in the bullpen. They also could have used more help in the rotation (Philly starters had a 4.20 ERA in '05, ninth in the NL). The Thome trade was good, though, because it filled a trouble spot in center, cleared up the first base problem and helped ease the payroll.

GRADE: Not much better, but maybe better off -- C.

WASHINGTON NATIONALS Moving in/moving out: Indefatigable GM Jim Bowden pulled off a whopper of a trade for a slugger: Texas second baseman Alfonso Soriano. But it seems that the Nationals will have to drag him kicking and screaming into the outfield. The Nats are now without outfielders Brad Wilkerson and Terrmel Sledge (both went to the Rangers for Soriano), and free-agent Preston Wilson, who signed with Houston. Contenders for much of 2005 before finishing .500, the Nats lost a couple of free-agent starters, too, in Esteban Loaiza and Hector Carrasco. Bowden tried to offset that in an early trade for San Diego's Brian Lawrence and the later signing of free agent Ramon Ortiz. The Nationals will also have a newcomer at third (Vinny Castilla was traded to the Padres for Lawrence), new infield backup and a new lefty out of the bullpen: veteran Mike Stanton.

Lowdown: The lowest-scoring team in baseball needed punch. Bowden thinks he has it in Soriano, though his numbers undoubtedly will drop from what they were in Texas due to the expanse of RFK Stadium. Soriano, at least, will contribute some offense along with Nick Johnson, Jose Guillen and Jose Vidro. But in losing Loaiza and Carrasco, the Nats' starters took a step back from '05, when they were seventh in the NL with a 4.03 ERA.

GRADE: Lots of motion, not a lot of movement -- D.

NL CENTRAL
CHICAGO CUBS Moving in/moving out: An early push for free-agent shortstop Rafael Furcal went for naught (he signed with the Dodgers), but GM Jim Hendry, under the gun after a 79-83 season, recovered nicely. He traded for Florida's Juan Pierre, who will lead off and play center, both troublesome spots last year, and fortified his bullpen -- another scary spot -- with two better-than-average free-agent signings: lefty Scott Eyre (from the Giants) and righty Bobby Howry (Indians). The Cubs spent $23 million to lock those two up for the next three years. The other noteworthy signing was free agent right fielder Jacque Jones (Minnesota), who won't blast as many homers as the departed Jeromy Burnitz but offers better defense and more on the basepaths.

Lowdown: The restructured and now possibly dominant bullpen should help prop up the always-touchy rotation. The biggest non-pitching question remains at shortstop, where veteran Neifi Perez and 23-year-old Ronny Cedeno will try to do what the Cubs wanted Furcal to do. Still, when the smoke clears, this offseason will be judged on how well the hard-working Pierre does. He improves the defense and, if he's at top form, he'll provide many more RBI opportunities for Derrek Lee and Aramis Ramirez.

GRADE: Improved in the field, in the 'pen and at the plate -- B.

CINCINNATI REDS Moving in/moving out: Pitching was Priority No. 1 for the Reds, and they addressed it -- some -- by dealing away popular first baseman Sean Casey to the Pirates for lefty starter Dave Williams. That wasn't the extent of their moves this winter, but it's pretty close. Adam Dunn now will man first base, leaving the outfield to Austin Kearns, Ken Griffey Jr. and Wily Mo Pena. Infielder Rich Aurilia re-signed, too, and the Reds traded for light-hitting utility man Tony Womack, which should give them some options off the bench. Lefty reliever Chris Hammond signed up. But, so far, there aren't a lot of new faces in Cincinnati.

Lowdown: One new starting pitcher -- and a lower-rung one at that -- won't make a lot of difference for the Reds, who should have learned that last season with Eric Milton. Like a lot of teams, the Reds are leaning on their youngsters (Kearns, Pena, Dunn, shortstop Felipe Lopez, versatile Ryan Freel) and the occasional vet (Griffey, Aurilia) to get them through. But the pitching -- this team has no closer -- is just not there.

GRADE: Too quiet to do any good -- D.

HOUSTON ASTROS Moving in/moving out: Handcuffed by a huge payroll tied up in a few players, the Astros haven't been able to do a lot. The NL champs re-signed catcher Brad Ausmus, a must, along with outfielder Orlando Palmeiro and pitcher Russ Springer. They signed Preston Wilson, who adds to a glut of outfielders. But the Astros will figure out who plays where later. The uncertainty of first baseman Jeff Bagwell's return makes the need for more power in the lineup more crucial. (The Astros hit .203 in the World Series against the White Sox.)

Lowdown: This is, in large part, the same team that worked its way into the World Series, with one huge exception: Roger Clemens. No one yet knows whether the ace will return in '06, and that (along with the inflated payroll) has stymied the Astros. Still, the pitching's good enough to compete, and Wilson is a slight upgrade, offensively, for a team that needs all the pop it can find.

GRADE: Did what they could to get better -- C.

MILWAUKEE BREWERS Moving in/moving out: A surprising .500 team in '05, the Brewers are entering a critical year. Their biggest move was a necessary one: trading first baseman Lyle Overbay to make room for Prince Fielder. GM Doug Melvin made a good deal, getting starter Dave Bush, outfielder Gabe Gross and pitcher Zach Jackson, a former first rounder, from the Blue Jays. The Brewers and Jays also traded to get third baseman Corey Koskie to Milwaukee (for righty Brian Wolfe), and Melvin sent pitcher Wes Obermueller to Atlanta to get back the Brewers' former closer, Dan Kolb. The bullpen, though, is still a soft spot.

Lowdown: After years of ineptitude, the Brewers are seeing their effort at developing talent begin to pay off. With players like Fielder, second baseman Rickie Weeks and shortstop J.J. Hardy, the Brewers have a lot of potential to go with outfielders Carlos Lee and Geoff Jenkins and, now, third baseman Koskie. The team's starters, sixth in the NL with a 4.02 ERA last year, remain largely intact, and now Bush joins them. The big question? The bullpen, which could make or break the Brewers.

GRADE: Slightly better than a .500 offseason -- C.

PITTSBURGH PIRATES Moving in/moving out: GM Dave Littlefield signed a slugger he needed -- Cubs free agent Jeromy Burnitz -- capping a very good run for the Pirates. The Bucs also found a useful hitter and great clubhouse guy in first baseman Sean Casey (who came in a trade with the Reds for lefty starter Dave Williams). Ditto for third baseman Joe Randa (a free agent from San Diego). They also bought reliever Roberto Hernandez (2.58 ERA in 67 appearances for the Mets in '05) and filled out the bullpen. Their closer (Mike Gonzalez) is untested, and their rotation is pretty young. But the Pirates are looking up.

Lowdown: Littlefield would like a little more power from his corner infield spots, but Randa and Casey are respectable at getting on base, at least. The Pirates will rely on the revamped lineup and their young, talented rotation (Oliver Perez, Zach Duke, Kip Wells, Paul Maholm) to get them to .500 or better, somewhere they haven't been since 1992.

GRADE: Safe and steady is starting to pay off -- B.

ST. LOUIS CARDINALS Moving in/moving out: This has been a tumultuous offseason for the reigning NL Central champs. The Cardinals lost most of their outfield when Reggie Sanders signed with Kansas City and Larry Walker retired. Solid second baseman Mark Grudzielanek also left (K.C.) and third baseman Abraham Nunez signed with Philadelphia. Starter Matt Morris (101-62 in eight years with the Cardinals) bolted to San Francisco for a three-year, $27 million deal. The Cards also traded lefty reliever Ray King to the Rockies and saw reliever Julian Tavarez sign a two-year deal with Boston. Reliever Cal Eldred, who appeared in 145 games in the past three years for the Cards, retired.

Lowdown: GM Walt Jocketty isn't one to stand still. Though the Cardinals lost out on a lot of free agents, they did find a decent hitter and a replacement outfielder in Juan Encarnacion, and landed capable outfielder Larry Bigbie from the Rockies in the trade for King. Wayward free agent starter Sidney Ponson was a relatively cheap gamble at $1 million for this year, and the Cards tried to replenish the bullpen with former Mets closer Braden Looper and former Oakland lefty Ricardo Rincon. Free-agent pickup Junior Spivey and Aaron Miles (also from Colorado in the King deal) will probably compete for the starting job at second base. That's a lot of movement, and not all of it is an improvement. But with solid starting pitching, a good closer in Jason Isringhausen, third baseman Scott Rolen healthy again and guys like Jim Edmonds and MVP Albert Pujols still hanging around, the Cards will hope it's enough.

GRADE: Stumble, step up, scramble, start again -- C.

NL WEST
ARIZONA DIAMONDBACKS Moving in/moving out: Continuing their climb from the 111-loss abyss of 2004, the Diamondbacks had tons of work to do and came out ... well, it's hard to say. They dealt disappointing starter Javier Vazquez to the White Sox for Orlando Hernandez, a reliever and a stud center-field prospect. They swapped big-swinging third baseman Troy Glaus to the Blue Jays for starter Miguel Batista and Gold Glove second baseman Orlando Hudson. They picked up catcher Johnny Estrada in a trade with Atlanta. And they signed a starting center fielder in Eric Byrnes. All of them fill holes. But ...

Lowdown: It's very possible that Hernandez and Batista will be worse than Vazquez and Shawn Estes (who signed with the Padres). The two new D'backs certainly are older. Glaus' bat -- no getting around this -- will be missed. Expecting youngsters like Chad Trady and first baseman Conor Jackson to immediately pick up the slack is asking too much. But the beauty in these deals, in Arizona's eyes, is in guys like Hudson, who's just entering his prime, and that young stud center fielder, Chris Young, who has shown great power in the minors. Estrada, too, is a good find if he ever shakes off the collision he had last year with the Angels' Darin Erstad. The D'backs still have problems in the bullpen, and their rotation could be tr?s shaky (Brandon Webb notwithstanding), but there's enough young talent (Tracy, Jackson and others) and veteran know-how (Luis Gonzalez, Shawn Green) to keep things interesting.

GRADE: Maybe better for the future, but not now -- C.

COLORADO ROCKIES Moving in/moving out: The young Rockies went through major growing pains during a 95-loss season in '05, and Colorado's not about to abandon its basic plan now. Still, the Rocks added some experience in free agent closer Jose Mesa, re-signed starter Byung-Hyun Kim and added to their bullpen savvy by re-signing Mike DeJean and trading for St. Louis lefty Ray King. They also traded for a catcher, landing the Mariners' Yorvit Torrealba. What's that? Not excited about any of those guys?

Lowdown: Well, those guys are all useful players, and all are needed, but the Rockies will still ride their youngsters (third baseman Garrett Atkins, shortstop Clint Barmes, right fielder Brad Hawpe, outfielder Matt Holliday) and stumble because of a mostly lightweight rotation in a pitchers' purgatory. That's just life, and near-death experiences, in Coors Field.

GRADE: Youth on the Rocks in Colorado -- C

LOS ANGELES DODGERS Moving in/moving out: Losing a manager and a GM in the span of a month put the Dodgers -- terrible in '05 with 91 losses -- way behind. But once GM Ned Colletti was pried away from the Giants, he went to work and stole former Braves shortstop Rafael Furcal (the Cubs thought they had him), hired new manager Grady Little and generally did not stop for weeks at a time. The Dodgers probably missed on as many players as they got -- Paul Konerko, Manny Ramirez and several big-name pitchers turned them down -- but they did sign Nomar Garciaparra to play first base, Bill Mueller to play third and Kenny Lofton to play center. Colletti also calmed the clubhouse by sending Milton Bradley to the A's. He added two starters by trading for the Mets' Jae Seo and signing Giants free agent Brett Tomko. The bullpen was re-stocked with closer Danys Baez and reliever Lance Carter from Tampa Bay. All in all, an incredible workout for a team that started so far behind.

Lowdown: Whether the Dodgers are better in '06 depends largely on the health of J.D. Drew, Jayson Werth and Garciaparra. But Furcal helps, as does Mueller, while Seo and Tomko at least make up for the free-agent loss of Jeff Weaver. The whole place should be much more upbeat, too.

GRADE: A late start, a really strong finish -- B

SAN DIEGO PADRES Moving in/moving out: The NL West champs (82-80) had next to no hitting in '05, so GM Kevin Towers went on a sign-and-swap frenzy. Towers made sure the Padres kept what good they had by re-signing on-base machine Brian Giles. Then he solidified the strongest part of a pretty good bullpen, getting closer Trevor Hoffman, a San Diego favorite, to re-up. Beyond that, the Padres' moves were truly dizzying. A big breath now ... They dumped uninspiring third baseman Sean Burroughs on the Devil Rays in exchange for uninspired pitcher Dewon Brazelton, then upgraded their offense at third by trading pitcher Brian Lawrence to the Nationals for sometime-slugger Vinny Castilla. They shored up their outfield defense, and added some offense, by trading Xavier Nady for the Mets' Mike Cameron. They lost some offense, though, by trading second baseman Mark Loretta to the Red Sox for catcher Doug Mirabelli, though that was necessary with the loss of free-agent catcher Ramon Hernandez (who signed with Baltimore). Starter Adam Eaton and bullpen stalwart Akinori Otsuka were traded to the Rangers for starter Chris Young and backup outfielder Terrmel Sledge.

Lowdown: The rotation, the best part of the team in '05, may be a little shakier without Eaton and Lawrence. Newcomers Young and free-agent pickup Shawn Estes (from Arizona) aren't quite their equals, though there's always ace Jake Peavy. The previously strong bullpen will be without Otsuka, Chris Hammond and Rudy Seanez, but with Hoffman bearing down on the all-time saves record, it should be good enough. The weak offense has improved, and the defense, a key part of this team in spacious Petco Park, is better with Castilla and Cameron.

GRADE: Getting over that barely .500 hump a must -- B.

SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS Moving in/moving out: You-know-who should be back in 2006, if the Giants are lucky, for 120 or 130 games. That should automatically give a huge boost to the offense. Barry Bonds' return is critical because, for the most part, this has been a sleepy offseason in San Francisco. The starting pitching got a shot in the arm with the signing of righty Matt Morris (three years, $27 million). Longtime starter Kirk Rueter is gone (released last August) and Brett Tomko signed with the Dodgers. The bullpen is a little iffy, too. A trade for Baltimore's Steve Kline (for righty LaTroy Hawkins) and the signing of Tim Worrell looks good, but the loss of steady lefty Scott Eyre (Cubs) was a big blow. Veteran first baseman J.T. Snow, who played in nearly 1,200 games for the Giants over the past nine years, has moved on to the Red Sox, clearing the way for young Lance Niekro.

Lowdown: The Giants should be much improved after a 75-87 showing, but it won't be because of any moves they've made this winter, the landing of Morris aside. The Giants will be better because of the return of Bonds (assuming he's healthy), a full season from closer Armando Benitez (if he's healthy, too) and the improvement of young pitchers Noah Lowry, Matt Cain and Brad Hennessey. If all those things go right, that should be enough to put the Giants in the middle of the division race.

GRADE: Just getting healthy in a quiet offseason -- C.

MY WEEK AS A WAITER

from NYTimes

My Week as a Waiter
By FRANK BRUNI
IT'S 7:45 p.m., the East Coast Grill is going full tilt and I'm ready to throttle one of the six diners at Table M-8.

He wants me to describe the monkfish special. For the fourth time. I hoarsely oblige, but when I return yet again to my riff on the apricot lager mustard, which comes right before my oratorical ode to the maple pecan mashed sweet potatoes, his attention flags and he starts to talk to a friend.

Does he mistake me for a recorded message, paused and played with the push of a button? Doesn't he know I have other tables to serve?

I need to go over and massage the mood at R-5, where one of the two diners has a suspiciously shallow pool of broth in her bouillabaisse, perhaps because I spilled some of it near M-2.

And I need to redeem myself with the two diners at X-9, who quizzed me about what the restaurant had on tap and received a blank stare in response. I'm supposed to remember the beers? Along with everything about the monkfish, these oddly coded table references, more than 10 wines by the glass and the provenance of the house oysters?

I had no idea.

I usually spend my nights on the other side of the table, not only asking the questions and making the demands but also judging and, I concede, taking caustic little mental notes. And it's been 20 years since I walked in a waiter's shoes, something I did for only six months.

But last week I traded places and swapped perspectives, a critic joining the criticized, to get a taste of what servers go through and what we put them through, of how they see and survive us. My ally was Chris Schlesinger, a well-known cook and author who owns the East Coast Grill, in Cambridge, Mass., and has no business interests in New York. So that my presence in the restaurant wouldn't become public knowledge, he introduced me to his staff as a freelance writer named Gavin doing a behind-the-scenes article to be placed in a major publication.

In some ways this restaurant, which opened in 1985 and specializes in fresh seafood and barbecue, was an easy assignment. Its service ethic is casual, so I didn't have to sweat many niceties. Its food is terrific, so diners don't complain all that much.

But its pace can be frenetic, and servers have little room to maneuver among 100 or so tightly spaced seats.

From Monday through Saturday, I worked the dinner shift, showing up by 3:30 and usually staying past 11. I took care of just a few diners at first and many more as the week progressed.

And I learned that for servers in a restaurant as busy as the East Coast Grill, waiting tables isn't a job. It's a back-straining, brain-addling, sanity-rattling siege.

Monday
Pop Quiz and Chop Chop

Every day at 4 p.m., the servers take a pop quiz. This afternoon's questions include ones on how the restaurant acquires its oysters and the color, texture and taste of mahi-mahi.

Before and after the quiz they tackle chores: moving furniture, hauling tubs of ice from the basement, folding napkins. I pitch in by chopping limes into quarters and lemons into eighths. I chop and chop. My fingers go slightly numb.

The servers range in age from their early 20's to their late 40's. Some go to school or hold other jobs on the side. Many would like to do less physically demanding work. All would like to earn more money.

If they put in a full schedule of four prime shifts a week, they might make $45,000 a year before taxes. Almost all of it is from tips. They wonder if diners realize that.

Bryan, a young server with whom I'm training, brings me up to speed on the crazy things diners do. They let their children run rampant, a peril to the children as well as the servers. They assume that the first table they are shown to is undesirable and insist on a different one, even if it's demonstrably less appealing. They decline to read what's in front of them and want to hear all their options. Servers disparagingly call this a "menu tour."

I acquire a new vocabulary. To "verbalize the funny" is to tell the kitchen about a special request. "Campers" are people who linger forever at tables. "Verbal tippers" are people who offer extravagant praise in lieu of 20 percent.

The doors open at 5:30 and soon two women are seated at L-3. They interrogate Bryan at great length about the monkfish, which, in changing preparations, will be a special all week long. He delivers a monkfish exegesis; they seem rapt.

They order the mahi-mahi and the swordfish.

"It's amazing," Bryan tells me, "how unadventurous people are."

How unpredictable, too. During a later stretch, Bryan has a man and a woman at L-3 and two men at L-4. The tables are adjacent and the diners receive the same degree of attention. The men at L-4 leave $85 for a check of $72 - a tip of about 18 percent.

L-3's check is $58, and Bryan sees the man put down a stack of bills. Then, as the man gets up from the table, the woman shakes her head and removes $5. The remaining tip is $4, or about 7 percent.

Tuesday
Ice, Ice Baby

I'm shadowing Tina, who has worked at the East Coast Grill for decades and seen it all. She is handling the same section Bryan did. She offers a psychological profile of a woman sitting alone at L-3, who declared the chocolate torte too rich and announced, only after draining her margarita, that it had too much ice.

"Some people are interested in having the experience of being disappointed," Tina says.

Some people are worse. Arthur, a young server who is fairly new to the restaurant, recalls a man who walked in and announced that he had a reservation, a statement Arthur distrusted. The East Coast Grill doesn't take reservations.

Arthur tried to finesse the situation by saying he was unaware of the reservation but hadn't worked over the previous three days.

"You haven't worked in three days?" the man said, according to Arthur's recollection. "You're going to go far in life!"

At about 9:30, a half-hour before the kitchen stops accepting orders, I take my first table, two women and a man. I ask them if they want to know about the half-dozen specials.

"We want to know everything," the man says.

The statement is like a death knell. I mention the monkfish, but forget to say that it comes with a sweet shrimp and mango salsa. I mention the fried scallops, and I'm supposed to say they're from New Bedford, Mass. But that detail eludes me, so I stammer, "Um, they're not heavily breaded or anything." They seem puzzled by my vagueness and poised to hear more. I've got nothing left.

What unnerves me most is trying to gauge their mood. Sometimes they smile when I circle back to check on them. Sometimes they glare.

In addition to dexterity, poise and a good memory, a server apparently needs to be able to read minds.

Wednesday
Who Really Needs a Drink?

I'm under Jess's wing. She's young, funny and generous with her encouragement. That final quality turns out to be crucial, because after I greet four diners at M-7, I'm informed that one of them has an affiliation with the Culinary Institute of America.

As I walk toward them with a bowl of house pickles, which is the East Coast Grill's equivalent of a bread basket, my hand shakes and several pickles roll under their table. I can't tell if they notice.

But I can tell they don't trust me. I'm tentative as I recite the specials, and I ask one of them if he wants another Diet Coke. He's drinking beer. They all look at me as if I'm a moron.

Jess tells me that enthusiasm is more important than definitive knowledge, that many diners simply want a server to help them get excited about something.

"You've got to fake it until you make it," she says.

I take her pep talk to heart, perhaps too much so. I handle three men at M-6, one of whom asks, "Between the pulled pork platter and the pork spareribs, which would you do?"

I tell him I'd change course and head toward the pork chop.

"It's that good?" he says.

"It's amazing," I say. I've never had it, but I've seen it. It's big, and so is he.

He later tells me, "Dude, you so steered me right on that pork chop."

I serve four young women at M-9. They order, among other dishes, the "wings of mass destruction." Per the restaurant's script, I warn them away from it, pronouncing it too hot to handle. They press on and survive.

One of them later wonders aloud whether to have the superhot "martini from hell," made with peppered Absolut. I didn't even know it was on the menu before she mentioned it.

"Why worry?" I say. "With those wings, you climbed Everest. The martini's like a bunny slope."

She orders it and drinks it and she and her friends leave a 22 percent tip (which, like all the tips I receive, will be given to the other servers). The three men at M-6 leave 20 percent.

Have I become a service God?

Thursday
I'm Really Allergic to Tips ...

Divinity must wait.

It's on this night that I spill bouillabaisse, confront my limited beer knowledge and silently curse Mr. Monkfish at M-8. I move up to an evening-long total of eight tables comprising 20 diners; on Wednesday I served five tables and 17 diners.

I encounter firsthand an annoyance that other servers have told me about: the diner who claims an allergy that doesn't really exist. A woman at X-10, which is a table for two, or a "two top," repeatedly sends me to the kitchen for information on the sugar content of various rubs, relishes and sauces.

But when I ask her whether her allergy is to refined sugar only or to natural sugars as well, she hems, haws and downgrades her condition to a blood sugar concern, which apparently doesn't extend to the sparkling wine she is drinking.

She orders the sirloin skewers, requesting that their marginally sweet accouterments be put on a separate plate, away from her beef but available to her boyfriend. He rolls his eyes.

Pinging from table to table, I repeatedly forget to ask diners whether they want their tuna rare or medium and whether they want their margaritas up or on the rocks. I occasionally forget to put all the relevant information - prices, special requests, time of submission - on my ordering tickets.

At least everyone at M-8, including Mr. Monkfish, seems content. As I talk to one of the women in the group, another server noisily drops a plate bound for a nearby table. A rib-eye steak special skids to a halt at the woman's feet.

"Is that the cowboy?" she says, using the special's advertised name. "That looks really good!"

About an hour later M-8's spirits aren't so high. They're motioning for me, and it's a scary kind of motioning. The two credit cards I've returned to them aren't the ones they gave me.

One of my last tables is a couple at X-1. They take a bossy tone with me, so when the woman asks if it's possible to get the coconut shrimp in the pu pu platter á la carte, I automatically apologize and say that it's not.

It turns out that I'm right. (I guiltily check a few minutes later.) It also turns out that servers make such independent decisions and proclamations, based on the way diners have treated them, all the time.

Friday
Do Not Jump the Shark

Apparently everything up to now has been child's play. Business will double tonight. People will stand three deep at the bar, closing lanes of traffic between the kitchen and some of the tables.

"Like a shark," Chris Schlesinger tells us, "you've got to keep moving or you die."

My chaperone is Christa, who's as down to earth and supportive as Jess. She's supposed to watch and inevitably rescue me as I try to tackle an entire section of five tables, each of which will have at least two seatings, or "turns."

By 7:30, all of these tables are occupied, and all have different needs at the same time. One man wants to know his tequila choices. I just learned the beers that afternoon.

Another man wants directions to a jazz club. Someone else wants me to instruct the kitchen to take the tuna in one dish and prepare it like the mahi-mahi in another. That's a funny I'll have to verbalize, a few extra seconds I can't spare.

I've developed a cough. It threatens to erupt as I talk to three diners at M-6. Big problem. I obviously can't cough into my hand, which touches their plates, but I can't cough into the air either. I press my lips together as my chest heaves. I feel as if I'm suffocating.

The kitchen accepts orders at least until 10:30 on Fridays and Saturdays. I'm dealing with diners until 11. By then I've been on my feet for more than six hours.

Over the course of the night I have surrendered only two tables and six diners to Christa. I have taken care of 11 tables and 32 diners myself. Except I haven't, not really. When my tables needed more water, Christa often got it. When they needed new silverware, she fetched it, because I never noticed.

Truth be told, I wasn't so good about napkin replacement either.

Saturday
Feeding the Hordes

My last chance. My last test. The restaurant ended up serving 267 diners on Friday night. It will serve 346 tonight.

Between 5:30 and 5:50, I get five tables, each of which needs to be given water, pickles, a recitation of the specials and whatever coddling I can muster.

The couple at one table want a prolonged menu tour. I'm toast.

Once again I try to tackle an entire section, seven tables in all. Dave is my minder. He tells me to make clear to diners that they need to be patient.

"If you don't control the dynamic, they will," he says.

I don't control the dynamic. Around 6:30 I ask him to take over a table I've started. As some diners leave and new ones take their places, I ask him to take over a few more tables.

I deliver a second vodka on the rocks with a splash of Kahlúa to a woman at L-9. Before I can even put it down, she barks, "There's too much Kahlúa in that!" Nice to know you, too, ma'am.

I do some things right. I point a couple at L-6 toward the tuna taco, because by now I've tasted it and I know it's fantastic. They love it and tell me they love me, a verbal tip supplemented by 17 percent. The next couple at L-6 barely talk to me, seek and receive much less care and leave a tip of over 50 percent. Go figure.

I do many things wrong. I fail to wipe away crumbs. I don't write the time on one ticket. I write M-12 instead of L-12 on another, creating a table that doesn't exist.

Around 8:45, my shirt damp with perspiration, I hide for five minutes in a service corridor, where I dip into the staff's stash of chocolate bars. Then I suck on a wedge of lemon, a little trick I learned from Bryan, to freshen my breath.

By the end of the night I've served a total of 15 tables comprising 38 people. Some of these people were delightful, and most tipped well, keeping my weeklong average - for a comparatively light load of tables - at about 18 percent.

Some weren't so great. They supported an observation that Dave made about restaurants being an unflattering prism for human behavior.

"People are hungry, and then they're drinking," he noted. "Two of the worst states that people can be in."

I recall a young woman at a six-top who bounced in her seat as she said, in a loud singsong voice: "Where's our sangria? Where's our sangria?" Her sangria was on the way, although she didn't seem to need it, and the bouncing wasn't going to make it come any faster.

Around 11:30 all the servers are treated to a shot of tequila. I drink mine instantly. I'm exhausted. I'll still feel worn out two days later, when I chat briefly on the telephone with Jess, Christa and Dave, who by that point know the full truth about me.

"I think you got a good sense," Dave says.

I think so, too, if he's talking about trying to be fluent in the menu and the food, calm in the face of chaos, patient in the presence of rudeness, available when diners want that, invisible when they don't.

It's a lot, and I should remember that. But I'd still like frequent water refills. And a martini from hell. Straight up.