13th HOUR HAUNTED ATTRACTION: JERSEY’S LEADER IN FEAR
One of the most original and detailed haunted attractions, 13th Hour rises from behind the Dewey Avenue bridge in Wharton, New Jersey, just down the road from Rockaway Townsquare Mall. The two-floor haunt consists of The House of Nightmares, The Attic, and The Dark Side of the Hayden House, through which customers walk on their own. And good thing. Having a guide would only prevent you from taking in the barrage of sights and sounds, each and every room decorated with passion, care, and imagination, giving visitors an unforgettable journey that gets better and more elaborate as the years pass. The walkthrough is so fluid, the themes and designs from room to room and scene to scene so smooth in pattern, and the overall layout seamless and not in any way disjointed, confusing, or seeming patched together. The truth is, an aspiring haunted-house owner could buy scary props, lights, smoke machines, animatronics, and other things and set them about and hang black tarps as walls, then hire inexperienced actors and charge a competitive price for admission. That formula might work for the short term. But for the long ride, a willingness to know your customers well and listen to and surpass their expectations over a number of years is the right way to forever tower over your imitators. To go through 13th Hour would show you firsthand that it takes talent, dedication, and vision to build and always improve an award-winning haunt, one that wins major industry awards while also winning the admiration of fellow haunters. Therefore, describing too much about the production would be a disservice. One must see it and live it to understand why thousands and thousands of visitors come back several times during the Halloween season, sometimes having to wait in long lines. Substantial credit must be given to the staff and security for moving people along, for reducing wait times, and for minimizing disruptions.
The actors play no small part in 13th Hour’s success. Because they interact with you, surround you, and portray a character—and not just scream in your face, which is the primary scare tactic used at other walkthroughs—they heighten your fear and steal your attention long enough for animatronics or someone or something else to cause the jumps and sustain the tension, a tension that never lets up. That is professional haunting—as it should be. In fact, those who enjoy watching horror-suspense-thriller movies would experience the same adrenaline rush walking through this serpentine maze of sets. In this terror trap you are part of the scene and not just viewing the nightmare from a safe distance. The action is non-stop as the whole building comes alive overhead and underfoot and all around you. No mercy. Remember Long Branch Haunted Mansion, Brigantine Castle, and Haunted Gingerbread Castle? Top attractions that have been gone for years. Well, now 13th Hour is drawing the crowds and dominating the chills-and-thrills market.
Christmas Haunt is the same frightening walkthrough combined with holiday flourishes. Again, special touches are in place to accentuate the theme and satisfy your desire for the macabre. The haunt has had a Valentine’s show as well as other seasonal events. Which means, no need to leave New Jersey to seek out Halloween excitement and adventure. Fun can be had and memories made here in Morris County, at the 13th Hour haunted house, where visitors can find, in addition to three haunted attractions, ten year-round escape rooms and even hatchet throwing!
Would you like to explore a supreme haunted house? Would you thrive on the challenge of solving complex puzzles to escape dark, foreboding rooms? Who wouldn’t! Go online and buy tickets, spend an evening in 13th Hour’s mysterious world and spread the word about Jersey’s number-one haunt, a haunt for all ages.
A RECREATIONAL PLAYER’S RANDOM THOUGHTS ON PRO PICKLEBALL
Winners come and go, in men’s and women’s singles in particular. Some players win a lot, while others (newcomers, sometimes) win here and there; hype is built around them but the quality of their game fluctuates throughout the season. The reality is, sustaining excellence at the highest level and competing with regularity on Championship Sunday is not easy, the long season bringing dozens of tournaments, extensive travel, unpredictable weather, and, maybe hardest of all, athletes having to work through, or be sidelined because of, injuries, keep full-time jobs, and raise families. Certain athletes are steadier and more durable than the rest. In my estimation, MLP-PPA players are the best I’ve seen and I respect anyone who tests their skills on a pro court, works hard on and off tour, and never loses sight of their destiny and is grateful for any rewards that come.
I am not interested in flamboyance or showboating, or persona or image. Call it what you want. No matter how talented a player may be, a spectacle does not draw me in. No need to swallow fire, eat glass, or perform a high-wire act. Ha! Playing to (or revving up) the audience is often welcome—charisma is an asset, no denying that. Overdoing it tries my patience. I prefer to let talent—a match well played—command my attention. By all means celebrate a good shot, a wild rally, a hard-fought victory, the winning of a medal, with respect shown to the opposition. Always. No unsportsmanlike conduct. No paddle-smashing or paddle-throwing. Keep it clean. Please.
Losing is hard for some players who seem to carry that burden around and do more harm than good to their game. And there are those who compartmentalize a loss, give it its due attention, show balance, sportsmanship, and grit, then continue learning and improving and come back better, stronger, and more determined than ever, a wise course indeed.
Fans pick players to like, players to despise, players to admire, players to tear down. Who they like and don’t like is not always based on performance alone. In many cases, dislike comes from jealousy, envy, intense emotion, that sort of thing. If a player is talented but obnoxious, and if I care enough to learn what I wish to know about them, I can only respect, study, and understand their game by cutting through the static. When and if that fails, I lose interest.
Some players seem to be natural athletes whose skills develop and mature in short order. Others make slower progress, struggling for long while finding a groove, a groove that may or may not come, may or may not hold. Watching promising players work through the draws (according to a number of players, progressive draws are the most grueling) and scrap with the best athletes has shown me the differences between recreational players and professionals, and those differences are gigantic.
Commentators can be helpful to a sport, pickleball being no exception. Some are not as helpful as they could be. Courtside interviews are from time to time bland, the questions and comments from the reporters lacking substance. Also, excessive dialogue during matches—even worse during points—diverts attention from the athletes at work. A precise, balanced analysis is necessary and important, I agree, but a nonstop commentary overloaded with statistics and other trifles becomes a nuisance.
Players’ personal lives—some fans care. I pay no attention. What pros do off court (not pickleball-related) can stay there. When players let the press/media and the public into their personal lives, their followers tend to want more. Again, I can do without the day-to-day stuff and the social-media narcissism. I admit that I like some players’ personalities and dispositions but don't care for how other players carry themselves. What kinds of paddles and gear they use is also not on my list of curiosities. As I see it, the top players would win using the worst paddle. And only practice and training would improve the skills of lower-ranked athletes.
Bad calls have been made. Referees are human, let’s not forget that. And well-trained. When errors in call-making happen, most players keep going without protest. Although momentum can shift because of a call gone wrong, all a player can do is shake it off and play the next point. In pickleball, maturity, resilience, humility, and a sense of humor work wonders regardless of age or experience.
EDWARD BURNS: THE “FAMILY” MAN
Since the release of his first (and breakthrough) film, “The Brothers McMullen” (1995), Queens, New York, native Edward Burns has used his sharp eye and ear and unique style and voice to explore family drama and dysfunction, never shying away from or distorting the thorny elements of family life and relationships. Sarcasm, confrontation, pettiness, friction, competitiveness, jealousy, and betrayal are prominent in his work. Although he may not receive widespread recognition and acclaim, Burns, who cites Woody Allen as a major influence, continues to make evocative films that for years to come will be seen and admired by those who appreciate good filmmaking on a small budget.
In harmony with smooth narratives, Burns’s films have a distinctive style that blends rawness and reality. And even though he has taken on significant roles as an actor, as a writer and director he has never ignored—or discarded—the formula that has made him an independent standout. As mentioned earlier, his works are structured around everyday conflict, and that conflict is conveyed through crackling dialogue and meticulous character development, aspects of Burns’s writing that have always been intact; his scripts combine formal language with colloquialisms, light humor with biting sarcasm. Characters come alive; even minor characters carry weight and purpose. As far as conflict goes, an argument in a Burns film—for anyone who is unfamiliar with his work—is realistic, sounding as if you the viewer are part of the scene, the words and body language natural and unrestrained, never melodramatic, never overdone—authentic through and through. Watch any of his films and see (and hear) for yourself how convincing the back-and-forth is. To achieve this without a slip, Burns casts consistent and dependable actors and picks ideal locations, the cinematography never failing to pull it all together and add polish. That is why Burns, each and every time and by every standard, turns in the work of a seasoned craftsman whose unswerving attention to detail has entertained and inspired others.
Though he has produced the majority of his films on small budgets, Burns makes the best of that money without sacrificing quality or substance. As a matter of fact his book, Independent Ed (Avery, Penguin Group, 2015), chronicles the making of his films, from the development stage to the premiere. Whether you’re a film enthusiast, an aspiring filmmaker, or an esteemed veteran, you would no doubt find his memoir fascinating and informative. Anyone who has ever dreamed of working in the film business, or is even curious about filmmaking at all, should read Independent Ed, a fun behind-the-scenes journey.
At the time of writing it is Christmas, and, during the holidays, people tend to watch sappy movies that sometimes seem “forced” and one-dimensional, the characters themselves dull and timeworn—no depth, no layers, no heft. Throughout his career Burns has not done a tearjerker; judging by his output over two decades, he doesn't seem headed in that general direction. An Edward Burns film is never forced, artificial, contrived, pretentious, or saccharine. “The Fitzgerald Family Christmas,” for example, demonstrates a precise balance and control of pain, humor, and tenderness, the tone steady and fluid as it builds and builds to its thoughtful conclusion. There’s nothing mawkish about it. Regardless of theme, though, when it comes to writing real-life situations and complex characters, Burns is one of a kind, his stories always honest and always unmoored from superficiality.
Some of Edward Burns's most successful films are “The Brothers McMullen,” “She’s the One,” “Sidewalks of New York,” “The Groomsmen,” “Purple Violets,” “Nice Guy Johnny,” “Newlyweds,” and “The Fitzgerald Family Christmas”—films that show working-class people living relatable lives and coping with everyday adversities, a template that has earned Burns a devoted following. Worth noting is the opening of “Purple Violets”: the lead character, played by Selma Blair, is seen reading The Stories of John Cheever—fiction from a first-rate writer. The scene might have people wondering if Burns has been inspired by Cheever’s work. If his films are any indication, he has probably read and been influenced by important modern writers. Yet another reason why his characters are memorable and true to form.
Moviegoers who are tired of investing their time and money watching mainstream movies lacking characters and stories worth caring about may be looking elsewhere for films that establish with them a genuine emotional and psychological connection while digging into the human condition, films unafraid of presenting to the audience through drama and humor all their missteps and imperfections, exploring with an unblinking eye the unforeseen and unavoidable clashes between members of an imperfect family and between friends and acquaintances. That would be a challenging feat for some filmmakers, but not for Edward Burns, whose followers are awaiting his upcoming projects: “Beneath the Blue Suburban Skies,” “Millers in Marriage,” and the sequel to “Brothers McMullen.” Keep rolling, Independent Ed!
GEOFF TATE
BIG ROCK SHOW HITS
LIVE AT THE NEWTON THEATER, NEWTON, NJ
SEPTEMBER 7, 2023
Opening Act: Mark Daly
Opening the set with the album title track “Empire,” Geoff Tate walked on from stage left, his usual regal presence drawing energy from the audience, who came alive with cheers, overhead fist-pumps, or holding high and proud the heavy-metal hand sign. Once Tate and his band settled in, the show was fluid, with few breaks, the seasoned musicians sounding rehearsed. From the start the frontman’s clean voice and tone were evident as he stalked the breadth of the stage, wandering everywhere, never staying in one place, often dancing, jumping, or becoming animated in one form or another throughout the 105-minute show. Older selections, from Operation Mindcrime and Rage for Order in particular—displayed Tate’s stagecraft, a characteristic of his live shows which hasn’t diminished at all in forty-plus years, incorporating practiced body movements and hand gestures that enhanced the songs’ visual presentation. None of Mr. Tate’s physical showmanship affected in any way the overall strength and consistency of his voice; never out of breath, no straining or cracking. So, while the eighteen songs showcased Tate’s power, range, and enunciation, some lyrics were sung differently from their original versions. For better or for worse—That is up to the listener to decide.
The concert featured a generous layout of Queensryche’s extensive catalog. Among the albums from which Tate shaped his set on this night were Empire, Rage for Order, Promised Land, Operation Mindcrime, Operation Mindcrime 2, Q2k, Dedicated to Chaos, The Warning, Rage for Order, Promised Land, Tribe, along with an unexpected track or two. “NM 156,” “Screaming in Digital,” and material from the original Operation Mindcrime had the crowd roaring loudest and singing along. As the tour expands and continues one cannot begin to imagine how the songlist will change from gig to gig. Knowing Tate, though, concertgoers should expect a regular rotation of tunes that would satisfy both singer and rabid fan alike.
As far as the design of the stage itself and overall production value are concerned, all the musicians had sufficient room to maneuver, and all of them took advantage of the deep, wide platform, constantly moving around and entertaining the audience from every position. The stage-light towers added a sense of size and dimension, the lights themselves flickering, shifting, swirling, and roaming as would be expected to intensify by degrees a high-energy rock concert like this one; the volume, of course, was loud, the guitar solos searing; the thumping percussion could be felt all around, underfoot, and in the stomach. The way it ought to be!
Following the ballad “Silent Lucidity” the band left the stage for a brief moment. With the full house howling, whistling, and shouting out song requests and words of appreciation, Tate and his band returned for a two-song encore, after which they were rewarded with a longish standing ovation as they said thank you and waved goodbye.
Anyone who is looking for a night of straightforward rock music from the former Queensryche singer, attend at least one show on this tour and move and groove and punch the air while listening to your favorites. No doubt Tate and his band will play at least a few of them, maybe even surprise you. The Big Rock Show Hits is a tour not to be passed over. True, absent from this production is the playing of an album in its entirety, as he has done on recent tours, but even more fun the fans should expect to hear the popular radio hits mixed with any number of tracks not included as frequently in past shows, each and every one of them performed with passion, seriousness, and as a celebration of music that spans generations. Tour dates are posted at Geofftate.com; setlists can be found online.
SECONDS
Work puts me on the road very early in the morning. While some are still snoozing or easing themselves out of bed or fixing breakfast, I have the privilege of making discoveries others might miss in their travels. On a Friday in late autumn, I was driving through a suburban neighborhood. On this particular highway and at this approximate time, it is vital to point out, tailgaters, speeders, and other reckless drivers are not uncommon. Numerous times I’ve been harassed by those tailgaters, their high beams like torches burning through my back window, distorting my vision. Such drivers are a daily nuisance, determined to ruin your day—if you let them. Today, though, no one was prodding me, giving me the finger, aiming at me bright lights. From what I could see mine was the lone car on the long picturesque boulevard, at least for now.
Imagine my good fortune, then, when on the right side of the road, in an area where I’d never glanced before, I passed a lake whose surface, rippleless in the glow of approaching dawn, could be seen from my position on the dark highway. I glimpsed the pristine reflection on the water: houses of different shapes, trees of all sizes, stood out in eye-catching form and detail. It was as if an upside down model of a lake community were sunk in the ground, or as if such an impeccable picture were being cast on the water from an invisible projector. The view brought gooseflesh to my arms, I got a chill. I smiled, sighed, while easing my foot off the gas pedal, savoring the moment. Had it been my day off I would have pulled over and stared a little longer, grateful to have noticed something that in an instant had dispelled my morning sluggishness and given me peace and strength for the day ahead. What made the moment—the image—particularly special was that I did not have to search the internet to find it. No computer or cell phone necessary. Not this time! That reflection, seen through a gap between houses, was outside in the tangible world, a world of endless wonders and infinite treasures. The details of that lake scene are forever imprinted in my memory. For that I am thankful.
Needless to say, I appreciate the little things in life: a phrase often used for moments such as these; and the lake’s glassy surface—and the vision captured on it—is another little thing to add to a growing catalog of mental pictures, pictures that provide, as needed, calm, comfort, and inspiration. What might I discover next!
JOHN WILLIAMS: MOVIE MAGICIAN
John Williams’s body of work occupies a special nook in my musical treasure chest. I first heard his music when I was just an intensely curious little boy. It gave me chills, lifted my spirits, and sparked my imagination. Then, as a teenager developing myriad interests, I became an easily excited filmgoer constantly checking the newspapers to find out what was playing in theaters from one weekend to the next, just so I could plan my whole weekend around that flick. A number of unforgettable movies I saw, some of which were scored by Williams, who has been nominated for more than 50 Oscars, 60 Grammy Awards, and numerous other awards. For decades I have followed his musical journey, a journey that has enriched my life and inspired me, brought me peace and comfort in tough times, made my hardest days a little better and cleared my mind when nothing else could. Sometimes, not wanting to miss anything, I look up music he has made from films I haven’t seen and also from films I might never see. In fact, I remember hearing a song not long ago, a soothing, atmospheric, elegant song, and by the end I had gooseflesh. That piece of music, one I hadn’t heard before, was the main theme to yet another movie whose soundtrack had the Williams name. And another day made better by hearing his music.
I grew up in the 70s and 80s, back when records, 8-track tapes, and cassette tapes were being listened to, shared, and traded, and when, regardless of the weather, my friends and I would gather in groups at the park or huddle around cars with the windows down, music of all kinds pouring from boom-boxes and car stereos. Oh, the sounds of youth! And those sounds brought us together time and time again, in all seasons. Nothing could keep us apart, as we were naturals at improvising our own amusement. Who knows how many hours we must have spent listening to music and talking to each other (living in the moment, one might say) and, of course, thinking about and preparing for the future. I know I thought about the years ahead a great deal, especially when I was alone in my room or working outside or taking a walk and had substantive music playing in my head, shaping—and refining—my thoughts, ideas, visions. To a young lad in search of wisdom and direction, the scores of Mr. John Williams helped nourish a tender heart and a developing mind.
His music, to my ears, is textured, layered—grand in design. With his score as background, the narrative comes alive. While I admire many composers, Williams was the one who drew my attention to movie scores; through his music I came to understand, from my own limited perspective, the meaning and purpose and application of the craft—knowledge that has influenced my writing. A discriminating listener, I often think of his artistry whenever I hear music that lacks those indispensable characteristics. And that is why my musical treasure chest is overflowing. Though there is always room for more talent, more possibilities, more memories.
Williams’s music was a part of my childhood which I still enjoy and celebrate, probably because I don’t want to grow up, though I know I have to, to some extent, but also because music has a distinct way of marking time, and the music of John Williams has always been and will always be for me a reliable marker, reminding me of fun-filled adventures in a dark auditorium, along with music that heightened that pleasure and piqued my interest in filmmaking among other creative disciplines. Growing up I was enamored of themes from “Superman,” “E.T.,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Jaws,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” and “Star Wars.” Even now, hearing those sublime tracks, as well as others he has written and composed, makes me smile, reflect, and feel appreciative of his legacy. Williams’s gargantuan catalog includes more than 150 film scores, all first-rate.
For me, John Williams’s music restores memories of my early days watching movies at the theater and at home, whether alone or with good company, and of spending time with old friends and acquaintances—flashbacks that fill me with profound happiness and gratitude. Mr. Williams, thank you for your contributions to music and to the history of American cinema. Without them, my life—and the lives of many—would be out of harmony.