My parents had to put Ruby down today. In June, she would have been fourteen.

She most likely was a Collie – German Shepard – Golden Retriever mix. We didn’t get her from a breeder or an animal shelter, so it’s impossible to know. We didn’t find her. She found us.

While my dad was out working on his antique pickup truck at my grandparents house in Eagle River, Wisconsin in September 1997, a small puppy wandered up to him and immediately lended herself to my dad. She had no tags, seemed in good health and there wasn’t any way to tell who she belonged to. He took care of her for a couple days before he came home. When he went back, he took the dog to a family friend’s in hopes that someone would claim her. They didn’t. So, on October 15, 1997, we took her home. She slept on a pillow between Drew and I on that first car ride.

At first, she didn’t lend herself to our Cairn Terrier, Ozzie, as he proved temperamental around every other animal that came in his presence. He tried to attack her at first, but Ruby, big, dumb and completely incapable of hurting anything other than herself, recoiled. After Ozzie realized she wasn’t going anywhere, they bonded by barking at the neighbors coming and going, or chasing squirrels up trees in the backyard. Then, there was the last few weeks of Ozzie’s life where he was so sick that he didn’t feel like doing anything but sleeping, mustered up the strength to go into Ruby’s bed and curl up with her.

For as much as I will miss her, I think it’ll be hardest for my Dad. They found each other. Until a few years ago, she’d always be eager to go for rides in his pickup truck. I’d often hear stories from my friend’s parents that would see them around in town. There was something special with them. They’d walk out to my Dad’s shed for the day every weekend when the weather was nice enough. He’s going to take her ashes out to the shed and spread them so she’ll always be there, somehow.

The last memory I had is the most bittersweet. That was last Tuesday, when I was leaving Illinois to return to New York after visiting my family. She’d been having trouble with her legs, sleeping most days, and it was apparent this may be the last time I’d see her. As I moved toward the door, I took the above picture, put a treat down for her and kissed her on the head three times. As I exited, I said “Bye, puppy,” and she looked back, just as sweet and unassuming as she always was.

For ten days, my girlfriend Kim, my friend Emily and myself went on a ten-day stretch of going to see The Hold Steady in seven cities. Instead of doing the usual writeup of each show, we decided to capture the experience in a series of video blogs posted to the band’s message board. We have yet to do the Epilogue/wrap up, but felt it was necessary to post this now while it is still feels fresh in our minds. There’s so many stories that these videos don’t contain, and it’s stuff I’ll never forget, either.

He nails the guitar part in one take.

Gino Scarim looks surprised as he makes a series of clicks in a program called ProTools, editing the track he just recorded.

Behind him with guitar in hand stands Eric Grossmann, the guitar player of northwest-suburban mainstays The Brokedowns, who’s joking with his bandmates about being able to play the guitar part despite learning the song minutes before he recorded it.

Scarim listens to the playback on speakers above his head, and after some short deliberation with the bandmembers, decides it’s time to move on to the next track. What he’s doing isn’t making him a lot of money – but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

At 28, Scarim is responsible for two of the northwest suburbs’ longtime music businesses – record label Duckphone Records, which he’s run for almost a decade, and promotion company Decal Productions, which is responsible for booking local acts in local venues. In addition to this, he performs as a sound engineer at the Clearwater Theater in West Dundee, as well as at the Metro in Chicago, and he owns a recording studio, Red Door Studio in Fox River Grove.

Since Scarim’s operations are small, he admittedly doesn’t have much money to pack into promotion or touring for his bands, but there are some success stories. One of Decal’s early bookings was political punk band Against Me! in Elgin, in November 2003. The band went on to sign a major label deal and recorded their latest album with the producer of Nirvana’s Nevermind.

Scarim looks more like a defensive tackle and less like someone who works in the sound business. He’s got a shaved head and a trimmed beard, is heavyset and stands a little over six feet. Physically, he’s a bit imposing, but the fact that he’s wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man kind of dispels the notion that he’d hurt anyone. His co-worker at Clearwater Theater. Co-worker D.J. DeNoon says, “He doesn’t drink, never had a cigarette, doesn’t do drugs and he tried to stop drinking pop.”

There’s no doubt Scarim loves music – that’s very clear when he talks about starting bands with his high school buddies. His musical tastes range “all over the charts,” and he says he likes hardcore bands like Converge, Dillenger Escape Plan and the Lawrence Arms. Taste doesn’t really factor in picking what bands to record. To him, what’s rewarding is providing a launching pad for those who are in the same position he was 10 years ago.

“I try to keep it real light, friendly – joke around. Productive and professional. There are so many added pressures in the studio. My studio is rather inexpensive, but the bands still get a higher quality recording,” he says. Scarim also says it helps if the bands have home recordings. That way he can get an idea of how the band sounds and see what direction he can help take the songs in.

There is no way to deny the influence of Scarim on this community. It’s not outside the realm of possibility to assume someone in his position could be difficult or out of touch. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. There’s no discernable trace of and that’s what endears him to the people he’s worked with and worked for.

Jamison Butcher, one of Scarim’s former interns at Clearwater Theater credits Scarim for “single-handedly” nurturing the music scene and without him “it would have died out a long time ago.” Scarim’s former bandmate and co-worker Mustafa Daka says, “He will do whatever he can to help people and has done a lot, and is so humble he won’t admit it. He’s made a lot of things possible for a lot of people, and keeps things fun for a lot of people.”

“It’s somewhat generational. We were working with younger kids doing shows – high school type kids, kids are getting into music earlier – and it happened to be a good thing at the time,” says Grossmann. “In high school for me, there were no shows around here. People in bands weren’t the norm, now it’s the inverse; there’s a ton of shows all the time.”

Scarim carefully explains that his promotion company, Decal Productions, provides him his necessary income. It’s the reason he can keep the label and recording studio going. The success of the company allowed him to move to different venues – and as a result, present more shows. Duckphone Records is something he enjoys doing, but isn’t necessarily crucial to his income.

Only one of Scarim’s businesses allows him the freedom to not have to hold any other supplemental jobs. The music scene in this corner of the northwestern suburbs went from nascent to populous in a short amount of time. Once it was hard to find shows in the area – now Scarim’s company Decal runs seven shows a week.

“It’s weird,” he says. “The more involved I get, the more I have to be. They all transfer into everything. I couldn’t do one without the other. They feed off each other.”
Back in 1999, the northwest suburbs started to populate itself with high-school-aged kids starting bands inspired by their favorite ska-core staples, the Voodoo Glow Skulls and Slapstick, which later spawned regionally-known acts such as Alkaline Trio and the Lawrence Arms. For the kids in this area, however, there was one big problem – nowhere to record, or play.

That’s when Scarim took matters into his own hands. He founded Duckphone Records in 1999 to record his friends’ bands so they’d have something to sell at their shows.

It wasn’t an instant process by any means. When Duckphone formed, Scarim was working for the Classic Cinemas chain of movie theaters, where he became the youngest general manager in the theater’s history at the age of 19. Two days after he graduated high school, he accepted a job at the theater that paid him $19,500 dollars a year. It was good money, he says, but quit a year later after he was offered a position at musical instrument store Sam Ash.

“I bought equipment slowly – used stuff for a good price. I … never had a ton of extra cash,” says Scarim. “[I started in] my parents’ basement. They gave me an entire basement to do my stuff.”

In his parent’s basement, Scarim started with a basic four-track tape recorder that he ran into an Analog recorder.

Daka, or “Moose” as he’s known to most, used to be Scarim’s co-worker at Sam Ash and was a bandmate in their onetime band Slim Jim Conspiracy. He was instrumental in the early days of Duckphone, as well as when Scarim set out to start booking shows.

Daka and Scarim would take items discarded from Sam Ash – soundproofing and cables – and built a closet with those materials. Even if some of the materials were half broken, they’d try to use them. According to Scarim, they’d “Frankenstein” microphones where they took working parts of some and put them together with parts of others. They fashioned the closet into a vocal booth using found materials. When finances allowed, he would upgrade the equipment in his studio. The patchwork studio setup lasted for several years, until Scarim moved equipment into the studio he’d purchased in January 2007.

Scarim and Daka at first teamed up to find shows for their band. “Me and Gino did a lot of calling around, because a lot of VFWs and Moose Lodges wouldn’t do shows. When we heard bands playing places, we’d call and try getting our band on there,” he says. “We ended up playing a lot of Battle of the Bands so we could play.”

Moose had started booking shows at the Warp Skate Park in Elgin, which originally overwhelmed Scarim. “I was like, I can’t do what Moose does, having bands calling him all the time,” he says incredulously. “But then I started doing it independently of him.” Not long after, Scarim got in contact with Grossmann, who, like Scarim, was struggling to find shows for his band.

The pair heard through mutual friends that they both had wanted to book shows, so Grossmann took the dive and called Scarim. They held meetings at Denny’s in Carpentersville, about the direction they wanted to go in. There, Decal Promotions was formed as a partnership between the two. In 2003, the fledgling company scored big early – they negotiated a deal with Clearwater Theater, a fairly new venue that hadn’t invited may local bands to play. Decal began hosting shows on Mondays and Tuesdays. “Things snowballed from there,” says Grossmann. The success of shows at Clearwater led to slots at Penny Road Pub in nearby Barrington and Just For Fun Roller Rink in McHenry.

About a year ago, Grossmann left Decal to focus on his day job as an IT recruiter and on his new family. Scarim then took over full time.
But he’s not without help.

DeNoon, a co-sound engineer at Clearwater says, “Gino … told me how to set up and run sound. Before [him] I had never done sound – and he needed people who knew how to do it, so he taught me to run it when he couldn’t be there.” Because of his experience at Clearwater, DeNoon now assists bands he’s worked with on shows at larger venues such as the Metro.

Several years ago, DeNoon hit a rough patch where he was unemployed and didn’t have a place to stay. Scarim’s parents took him in. “The job I have now I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t because of Gino,” he says. “I wouldn’t be at the place I’m at now with a place to live without Gino and his family.” He pauses. “Wow,” DeNoon says. “I don’t even think he knows about this.”

Eddie Tsikretsis – the former bass player of Me, Myself and Eyepatch, one of Duckphone’s earliest bands – is far removed from his days on Duckphone’s roster. Yet he agrees that Scarim’s approach remains the same.

“He’s dealing with kids with no musical ability and he’s pretty awesome at that. He championed us the whole time,” Tsikretsis says. “The motivating factor is that he wants to see bands doing something, even if it isn’t his thing.” Scarim recorded an entire album for Me, Myself and Eyepatch, but the band disbanded shortly thereafter. “Gino gets good involvement from kids who have burgeoning interest and he incubates them,” Tsikretsis continues.

Back at the studio, Grossmann struggles to lay down a guitar track for another song, despite his earlier successes. Scarim calmly offers encouragement and provides direction on where Grossmann can come back in on the track. Eventually, after several more takes, the tracking is completed. He takes a seat and listens intently as Scarim cues up the track on the computer screen. After the playback is done, Scarim turns to the guitar player and smiles.

“Good job, Grossmann.”

Then it’s back to work.

By Brendan Hilliard

Like his idol, Quentin Tarantino, Josh Golden has a sense for the offbeat. In elementary school, he was the kid who dressed up as a Picasso painting for Halloween.

“Who does that?” wondered Golden, a lanky, slightly disheveled 18-year-old senior at Dundee-Crown High School, whose standard wardrobe includes tracksuit jackets and Chuck Taylor high-tops.

Marching to the beat of your own drummer can have its advantages, though, even in retro gym shoes. For Golden, that personal parade route has led to writing, directing, producing and promoting a play.

You might say the work looks inward, for You Gotta Be Kidney is a dark comedy chronicling the lives of two kidneys in a donor bank after their host bodies die. While awaiting their transplants, they fall in love and face conflicts.

“Their environment and point of view have never really been portrayed before,” said Golden.

The idea for the play came during a small writing exercise during Golden’s drama class at Beth Tikvah Congregation Hebrew school in Hoffman Estates. At the end of this year’s first quarter, Golden presented the concept to English teacher June Cavarretta as a possible independent study project.

He wrote the play the following term and read his work in class for comments and constructive criticism. When he was younger, teachers would condemn him for “straying too far from the path” in his writing, he recalled. Yet, Cavarretta encouraged her pupil to build upon his work.

“I thought it was wonderful, funny, and really, really creative,” said Cavarretta. “Who would think of using kidneys and other organs for social commentary?”

Golden didn’t intend to stage the play, but “Mrs. Cavarretta thought it would be an amazing play to put on, and I thought, `Why not?’ ” said Golden.

The next step was to find a place to stage the play. He found Elgin Community College too pricey. Community Unit School District 300 officials offered use of the Carpentersville Middle School auditorium, but only on the day before or day after high school graduation. So his parents contacted Dundee-Crown Principal Robert Whitehouse, who agreed to let Golden use the high school’s auditorium.

With that hurdle cleared, Golden is tackling another. One of the lead actors decided to bow out of the play due to scheduling conflicts. Golden was forced to shift a supporting actor into the role.

On top of that, the crew is rushing to complete the sets before showtime. And there are costume issues, namely how to make the oversized kidneys seem life-like and not like pale sickly California Raisins.

Despite this, rehearsals have, for the most part, been pretty laid back affairs.

“(Rehearsals) are more relaxed. Sometimes the actors stall and we get off track,” Golden said. “They aren’t much different than other student-directed plays I’ve been a part of.”

To ready his work, Golden turned the family basement into Kidney headquarters, filling the space with wooden set pieces and costume materials, with enough room left for nine actors to rehearse.

“We usually run through lines for awhile,” said Steve Knight, 17, who plays a liver. He admits, “Lots of jokes are being made.”

Like any good promoter would, Golden claims there is buzz for the show.

“Kids at school are really into it,” he said. “Everyone’s helping with it. It gives me the drive to go on.”

It does seem to have its backers.

“I was quite surprised to see he could make a quality play about kidneys,” said junior Kristen Rich, 17, Golden’s creative writing classmate. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Josh is the kind of kid that no matter what he does, he will succeed,” said Cavarretta. “He is so motivated.”

“There will be a bake sale,” said Golden. “We are selling kidney pies.”

Our Action Week feature is what I not-so-cleverly titled “Secret Staffer.” Seven of our contributors were randomly assigned to compare each other to an action movie or a component of an action movie…except myself. Hey, someone had to remain neutral for editing purposes!

Brendan Hilliard reviews Melly Corzo

Melly Corzo, beyond the shadow of a doubt, IS Beatrix Kiddo, the heroine (and chief ass-kicker) of Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill” series.

Why is this?

Like Beatrix, Melly has a look that can strike fear into the hearts of even the most grizzled warriors. When Melly’s serious, she means it. Don’t get in her way when she’s upset, or she’ll cut you down like the Crazy 88’s. I’m kidding … sort of.

But beyond that, like Kiddo, she’s got a kind heart beneath her tough exterior. She’s compassionate, trustworthy and will stop at nothing to accomplish her goals.

Oh, and she’s got a unique (and memorable) fashion style to boot.

Just be afraid if you see her with a notepad and marker.

Jenna Andriano reviews Andy Soderstrom

For some reason, ever since Andy Soderstrom told me the story of the time he tamed a lion with a bull whip while on a moving train during a Boy Scout outing, he’s always reminded me of Indiana Jones. I specifically chose “The Last Crusade” as the Andy Action Film because he’s a perfect combination of Indiana and his father, Dr. Henry Jones Sr. In fact, I imagine his internal monologue to be a near-continuous debate between Harrison Ford and Sean Connery’s voices.

There are few men who could flaunt a bull whip and fedora outside of Boystown; Andy is one of those men. He, like the father-son duo of “The Last Crusade,” hates the Nazis. Really, the similarities are endless, what with all the pseudo-suaveness mixed with blundering miscommunication, mixed with archaeology and world saving, and topped off with a surprisingly impressive soundtrack.

“The Last Crusade,” though an action movie, is both funny and occasionally insightful. Andy, a man of many words, gets lucky on occasion and pulls out gems on both sides of the spectrum. Therefore, I leave you with two examples of very different though both quintessentially “Andy” lines from “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.”

Professor Henry Jones: My son, we’re pilgrims in an unholy land.

and

Indiana Jones: [to his father] I was just remembering the last time we had a quiet drink together. I had a milkshake.

Melly Corzo reviews Matt Strasser

In 1994, a Luc Besson action film titled “The Professional” was released internationally. It is about a hit man named Leon who ends up taking care of his 12-year-old neighbor Mathilda when crooked cops murder her family. She learns the tricks of being an assassin so she can avenge her brother’s death only to end up in the hands of his murderers. Leon, who is used to being on his own, feels connected to the girl and kills his way to rescue Mathilda, putting himself in danger.

Now Matt Strasser isn’t a hit man. At least … I hope not. But similarly to Leon he has a dark, poetic quality about him. Leon is a quiet man who keeps to himself and focuses on his job. He kills people but has a sense of morality. In his humble apartment he keeps one thing alive other than himself and it’s his beloved plant, a fern that he waters daily. His sleeping ritual consists of sitting upright on a loveseat with a hand on his gun at all times. That is, until Mathilda comes along.

Mathilda will stop at nothing to learn the ways of Leon. He reluctantly agrees only because her entire family was killed and she tugs at a part of him that has long been dormant. He’s sensitive and becomes tied to her. Much as Matt shows his insightful side in his poems, but Leon is also cunning and accurate. With each kill he teaches Mathilda what to do and how to effectively murder someone in the shortest amount of time. Matt is as intelligent as Leon with his bright ideas and quick reflexes. As professional as Leon and Matt are, both would probably be willing to sacrifice themselves for someone they cared about. In this instance, Leon is willing to put his simple life on the line for Mathilda.

When the final showdown arrives, things aren’t always as they seem. And neither is Matt Strasser.

Matt Strasser reviews Evan Thorne

No. Not a chance. Evan Thorne is not that vampire that oddly resembles the Governator in FROM DUSK TILL DAWN! He may not be that scary ass mother fucker, or the stubbly, studly Clooney … and definitely not the squirrelly Tarantino. Hell, if I had to compare Evan’s personality to a movie, it certainly wouldn’t be “From Dusk Till Dawn.” Why then, you ask? Look no further: bloodsucking vampires and boobies. Both kick a whole lot of ass and, well … if there are two things Evan can get behind, it’s vampires and boobies! Try to deny it. I dare you.

Evan Thorne reviews Andy Wyslotsky

Ever since I met Andrew Michael “Painter” Payton Wyslotsky, he’s always vaguely reminded me of Brendan Fraser–specifically, the Brendan Fraser from the 1999 remake of “The Mummy.”

Rick O’Connell is a reckless smartass who (usually) knows what he’s doing and is (more or less) a stand-up guy. But that’s not why I’m reminded of Andy when I see that movie. No, the real reminder is that time when Andy and I were downtown in Chicago and he saved me from a horde of mummies.

We were just south of the Loop, grabbing some Chinese food, when suddenly the air went cold. There were mummies in the air and we both knew it. Suddenly, the sidewalk erupted and at least six thousand mummies climbed out. I didn’t know what to do, but Andy pulled out an elephant rifle and opened fire. He took out at least a dozen, then they were upon us. He took the rifle and broke the stock over a mummy’s head, then rammed the jagged broken edge through another one’s sternum. Fifty or sixty were after me and all I had to defend myself was a pair of chopsticks, so Andy crawled over the heads of the horde, cracking each head with his massive steel-toed boots on the way, and using his extensive knowledge of Jujitsu, fought them off. At this point, the authorities had arrived and slapped us with some drug charges and arrested Andy for killing three stockbrokers, nine lawyers, a fashion consultant, twelve art students, a tugboat captain, a pee-wee soccer team and well over six hundred pigeons. But I’ll always remember him for what he was: a hero.

Additional Reporting by Evan Thorne

Andy and Evan interviewed an apricot. This is how it went.

obviate media.: So, what’s your name, Apricot?
Apricot: Phillip Juanita Hernandez-Smith Baxter.
om.: That’s quite a name you’ve got there.
A: My, you’re glib today, aren’t you?
om.: Aww, did somebody wake up on the wrong side of the fruit basket?
A: You want me to sick the grocer’s union on you pricks?
om.: …Anyway. What’s a day in the life of an apricot like?
A: Oh, you know. I’ve been doing some still-life modeling gigs. Usually talk to my stockbroker around three.
om.: What companies do you have stock in? Dole?
A: Very fuckin’ funny. I’ll have your asses on a fuckin’ platter if you can’t lay off the cheap shots.
om.: What…like, a fruit platter?
A: I swear to god…
om.: Okay, okay, sorry. So, how does it feel to be Peach’s shitty poor cousin?
A: Yeah? Well who tastes better dried? That’s what I fucking well thought.
om.: Touche.
A: Yeah, I get that a lot, but Peach can just blow me. In fact, it’s happened before. Plenty.
om.: So what’s your favorite color?
A: Peach, oddly enough. It pisses me off, but it’s such a fucking nice color…goes with everything.
om.: You are totally gay for Peach.
A: Fuck you guys, don’t judge me.
om.: God damnit, we don’t get paid enough for this shit…why don’t you sing us a song or some shit like that?
A: (singing) If you feeling like a pimp, *****, go and brush your shoulders off/ Ladies is pimps too, go on, brush your shoulders off…
om.: Wow. Not exactly what we were expecting.
A: Well, what the fuck were you expecting?
om.: Um…maybe something fruitier?
A: Try this one on for size. (singing) Millions of peaches/ Peaches for me/ Go fuck yourselves.
om.: Eh…it lacks flow. But it’s alright for a miniature peach, I guess.
A: Fuck you, interview over.