OF THE TOWNS talk

by bill beggs jr.

Creve coeur

Officially, the Vietnam War came to an end 50 years ago. U.S. soldiers left after more than 20 years of military assistance and eight years of direct combat that left more than 58,000 American names etched on a memorial in Washington. The hostilities also killed an estimated 791,000 to 1.14 million Vietnamese soldiers and civilians. The beautiful Southeast Asian country is now a major tourist destination, but in 1973, it was reeling from the bloody, toxic morass that three decades of political turbulence and armed conflict had wrought. To mark the 50th anniversary of the war’s end, journalist and historian George Black released The Long Reckoning: A Story of War, Peace, and Redemption in Vietnam. Black will appear April 10 at 7 p.m. at the JCC’s Staenberg Family Center / Mirowitz Performing Arts Center, at 2 Millstone Campus Drive. The program is free and open to the public, and books will be available for purchase. Black says the American war in Vietnam left many deep scars that have yet to be sufficiently examined, much less healed—the worst damage inflicted in a tiny area bounded by the demilitarized zone between North and South Vietnam and the Ho Chi Minh Trail in neighboring Laos, which suffered the most intensive aerial bombing campaign in history, the massive use of toxic chemicals and the heaviest casualties on both sides. Against such a horrific backdrop, Black recounts an inspirational true story of the veterans, scientists, U.S. pacifists and their Vietnamese partners who wielded moral authority and scientific and political ingenuity to ameliorate the horrors the protracted conflict left behind. Their intersecting stories illuminate reconciliation and personal redemption, all embedded in a vivid portrait of today’s Vietnam. It’s a sobering account of the startling collisions between past and present.

st. louis

Updates on two wildly divergent topics in the StL previously covered: a renegade bear and two South Korean automakers. Ben, the 300-pound Andean bear (aka spectacled bear), who’s managed to escape captivity at Saint Louis Zoo to freely wander the grounds, is to be transferred to another zoo, where Ben’s enclosure will be surrounded by a moat. Quite the escape artist, Ben has managed to wriggle free twice despite workers reinforcing his enclosure to prevent his escape. The facilities seem entirely suitable, although Ben obviously is smarter than the average bear and may feel he’s entitled to more than the … please forgive us … bear necessities. Now, to the Hyundai and Kia story, which is about keeping sneaky creeps from getting into cars not their own and driving off to who knows where. The City of St. Louis has filed a lawsuit against the companies, whose cars started being stolen at an alarming rate once a thief posted a video on TikTok last summer illustrating how to bypass the ignition using only a screwdriver and USB cable. It went viral, of course. Hyundai and Kia thefts skyrocketed nationwide, including in St. Louis city and county, and owners saw their insurance rates head skyward as well, all because the car companies failed to install an anti-theft device. The city is seeking “in excess of $75,000”—plus attorney fees and expenses—euphemistic language for hella cash. Mayor Tishaura O. Jones pointed out that some of the stolen vehicles have crashed, causing at least one fatality and damaging property both private and public. Car thieves don’t care how they drive. And on the other side of the globe, Hyundai and Kia also seem like they couldn’t care less, having so far reacted to legal threats from the StL with a shrug.

Forest Park

Looks nice, smells awful. A perennial favorite of landscapers to plant around medical buildings, the Bradford pear tree is really more trouble than it’s worth. Not only do its lovely blossoms have the noxious odor of a kitty’s litter box in dire need of emptying, but the trees are terribly fragile—Bradford pears start quivering from the roots up even before a thunderstorm shows up on radar. Once at a wedding reception under nasty weather at DeMenil Mansion, near the A-B brewery, we came out after a storm, startled to see several Bradford pears along the street had given up the ghost. One had snapped in two, with the larger piece landing on the car right in front of mine. Conservationists say they’re invasive, which is why two rows of the nuisance trees have been removed at Forest Park, to be replaced with magnolias. These sturdier trees also have beautiful blossoms, but their fragrance also can be a bit off-putting. To some noses, a stand of magnolias can be overwhelming—imagine your 4-year-old niece sprayed an entire bottle of grandma’s Chanel No. 5 on herself. She thinks she smells glorious while everyone else is about to pass out. Good on Forest Park Forever for replacing the annoying flora, which have a life span of no more than 20 years before artlessly collapsing across someone’s expensive SUV. They were imported from China. Plus, once established, a stand of them can crowd out everything else in, like, 15 minutes or so—just after you get back from break, look … there’s more. Here’s another reason to wear one of those masks left over from the pandemic: Bradford pears are blossoming all over.

LAST ISSUE’S Q

& A

WHAT ARE THE NAMES TODAY OF SAIGON AND HANOI, FORMER CAPITALS, RESPECTIVELY, OF SOUTH AND NORTH VIETNAM?

In sports, when not referring to when a Cardinals player hurls a ball from the mound toward the opposing batter, what on earth is a pitch? And, from whence did the term originate? (Hint: It’s a noun.) It’s a soccer field. The term originates from another sport played throughout the former British empire— India, most notably. Why; it’s cricket, by cracky!

“I don’t even have the words to tell you how much this camp has meant to my daughter and us! Highly recommend, don’t wait!”

Westport

Want a little Second City or SNL-type entertainment? That is, where expecting the unexpected is not only expected but you yourself might be invited to participate, competing for real prizes? Then you’re probably up for the world premiere of Broke: The Game Show Show at Westport Playhouse, which will debut April 14. What to expect: Four witty performers working from a loose script, but improvising throughout this ‘show within a show,’ so the Saturday night show will be at least a little, and maybe a whole lot, different than it was the night before. And the next weekend? All bets are off.

“I love improv, because it’s different every time,” says cast member Ashley Rube. “It’s like building an airplane while you’re flying it.” We improvised coffee at Sweetwaters in The Grove, not far from her home, in another eclectic neighborhood a stone’s throw from Missouri Botanical Garden. On the faculty at The Improv Shop Training Center, Rube lives and breathes improv. What would you expect from someone with a bachelor’s in literature and a master’s in theological studies who spent a year working on a dairy farm? Rather than a digression, milking cows and making cheese has been an invaluable component of a life made up as she’s gone along, focusing on doing the next right thing for her fellow performers and her community. A native of South Carolina, she’s worked in publishing, nonprofit advocacy—and done stand up, here, at Mizzou and in Nashville, to name a few. Meanwhile, while it’s obvious she doesn’t take herself too seriously, she’s very serious about her art form. A commercial actor, teacher, and writer, Rube offers performance and applied improvisation workshops to actors, improv teams, high school and college kids—and businesses. Businesses? Workers excel when they collaborate. Plus, how about having to describe yourself in little more than 30 seconds? Yikes! Well, the ‘elevator speech’ is a tried-and-true impromptu skill touted by life coaches and employment counselors. As for performance art: “I try to make it less ‘precious’,” she says. “The most precious thing is the person next to me on stage. Am I taking care of them, and are we having fun together?”

Rube performs monthly as a member of several independent and Improv Shop house teams. Musical improv is a specialty. Once during a song, her voice cracked. Her director remembers it as a pivotal moment. She made it work, folding the glitch into her performance. “If you must fail, fail forward!” she says, with a laugh. (Not surprisingly, Ashley Rube is an easy laugher.) In a bit of synchronicity while your scribe was at the counter toning down his ultra-sweet Vietnamese brew, Ryan Myers—her improv partner, fellow educator and cast member (they’re two of four), came over from working on a laptop. He could have been at any number of places, says Rube with a smile. She was remarkably serene, considering their first rehearsal was that night. That’s OK. She knew she’d be able to make it happen, on the spot. Broke! runs April 14 to May 6—Friday and Saturday nights only, at 7:30 p.m. For ticket information, visit westportplay.com. &