gurl'hillas in the mist

Kevin invited me for a little adventure down the coast. And as usual, adventure time with Kevin was awwwwesome. Unfortunately, it doesn't really translate well to a blog post.

In short: Pacifica strip mall bar drag show.

Hammina.

We started with a small birthday party in Montara, a town of like 40 people just above Moss Beach and above Half Moon Bay. We did get to drive through the just-opened Devil's Slide Tunnel, which was enormous, gorgeous, and very cool.





The gathering was lovely, and I was in the mood for a room full of people I didn't know. The "town" is tiny, certainly coastal country. I felt like it was the setting for a 60s Disney movie. Shout out to Alison, who is total PLU. Kevin and I hesitated outside before going in, listening to eh wails coming from inside.

"Is that a sing along?"
"I think it's just a 'sing.' I'm not hearing any 'along.'"

Alison, shouts to Alison, walked up the hill towards us and assured us we were int he right place as she recognized that voice. For some reason, I had to go in, and climb the stairs towards the party, first. Why me? I don't know anyone here? I was just Kevin's plus one. Not that wandering into a party as if I were invited were anything new to me, but still. Alison urged me up, so I said, "Whatever. If anyone asks, I'm your boyfriend."

Sure enough I was eagerly welcomed, with smiled and handshakes that clearly said, "Hey, I don't know you but think I should so I'll just pretend that we've met before." Which was pretty funny. It's completely logical that one would not know everyone at a birthday party, and assume that people arriving were invited and not total strangers. So everyone played as if they, or at least the host, knew me. For some reason, Kevin and Alison had lagged downstairs, so even when I met the hostess, no one had a clue who I was, but was playing along, until the host's smile turned from one of welcome to one of inquisitiveness. The "hi" smile switched to "who?"

"I'm Alison's boyfriend."

That was fun. Alison eventually appeared beside me, questions were raised, and because she is PLU, she totally played along. Note bene: Alison and I had never met before.

Later I told people I was her ex-boyfriend. When quested as to why we split up, I acknowledged that she was entirely justified in dumping me as I was a selfish lover and never reciprocated oral. When this got back to Alison, she agreed. So much fun.

There were maybe ten of us so it was an intimate gathering, and everyone was lively and charming and fun to meet. It was arm-deep foggy on the coast so there was no view even though we were just a block above the ocean. But the spring chill made for a cosy night with dogs and songs by the fire.





Kevin had joked earlier that I seem to know everyone so I might know someone there. It took about 15 minutes to find a one-degree of separation. The Guy With Guitar was Jamie Clark, and once we started talking Bay Area music, we found we had several friends in common.

Facebook posts to various walls were duly uploaded.

I love it when worlds collide.

And there were certainly some personalities at play here. I really want a caption contest for this one.


But the true adventure came when we had to, frighteningly, take the coastal highway in impenetrable fog back up to Pacifica to "take in a show." One of Kevin's friends, or friend of a friend, recently bought into a bar in Pacifica: The Longboard Margarita Bar. They are trying to find their niche and have attempted several different marketing ideas to different crowds. Like the early bird cocktail hour for seniors in the early afternoon.

And Female Impersonator Night once a month. Or something. They never formally called it a Drag Night and I have no idea why. (Update: It's called the "Lipstick Review.") Anyway, word was, they had started a drag night once a month and they pulled in some queens from Vegas. They had only had one night so far, and they asked Kevin, drag aficionado that he is, to go check it out. Naturally, he thought of me. Squeeee! (That is the giddy sound.) It was either going to be really good, or really bad. Which meant for us, either way we were going to love it. The only truly bad show is a boring one. If it's epic or epically tragic, awesome.

We drove, carefully, through the pea soup fog up to Pacifica, and found the address. We knew we were into a adventure when we found the bar in a strip mall. Keep in mind, to us, this was a good sign. So to speak. Kevin noticed mall sign featured the Lone Cypress of Monterey. We were two hours from Monterey. And holy cows we weren't in a city anymore: acres and acres of free parking. And hovering around the doorway were young people pierced, inked, poorly dressed, smoking, socially awkward, and "rad." Again, squeee.




The space is fine any featured terrible art typical to a café or surf bar. The staff was quite kind and attentive if inexperienced. What the bartenders may have lacked in knowledge and skill they made up in cuteness, cleavage, and sweetness. The dollar surcharge per drink on an event night was in lieu of a cover charge and perfectly acceptable.

The space was ample and comfortably populated—crowded enough to be fun and happening, not too crowded to sit, mingle, or enjoy. They had pulled out rows of sofas to make it more of a cabaret show. Kevin and I, when asked, offered some constructive criticism, such as spending $40 on yards of black fabric and some pipe, make a backdrop, and an instant stage. It was a slightly awkward setup, but workable.

And work it they did. The MC was really good. The crowd was totally foreign to drag shows, and she provided education on drag, crowd etiquette, tipping, etc. She worked the noobies with slightly raunchy humor and just nailed what the crowd needed and wanted. A far cry of the host acts I am accustomed to, but spot on for this audience. I was impressed. The drag too was good, quickly running the range from power ballad through quick change acts to tragic, on-the-floor Trannyshack mess. I ran through my singles.


The crowd was surprisingly good too. It was early 20-somethings, birthday parties, and girls dragging (heh) their boyfriends out. The queens worked the dudes and everyone was really into it and had a good time. Although this was definitely a foreign scene to them. I had a crick in my neck and couldn't turn my head without turning my shoulders and the woman ordered at the bar thought I was checking her out, or she was checking me out. She started flirting, and felt the need to clarify, "I'm a real woman." Yeah. I can tell. If you were a drag queen, your boobs would be bigger, your makeup would be bigger, and your hair would be bigger. I just replied with a smile. "I can tell. Your eyebrows are drawn where nature intended."

Her black and sparkly halter, and feathered blond hair and fair features, I did "compliment" her that she was working the look of Olivia Newton John in the final scene of Xanadu.

For the rest of the evening, Kevin and I referred to her as ONJ. Her male companion was the only guy in the bar we considered doable.

Except for a scruff little hottie in the corner talking to one of the performers. Kevin pointed him out. I chuckled and crossed the room and directly chatted him up. Kevin sat wordlessly impressed at the bar. Until it was clear his first comment of the evening was truer than he thought. I introduced him to my friend Jason, the current Mr. Gay Rodeo.


I guess I do know everyone. Well, not everyone obviously. But I get by. Enough to walk into a surfer bar on a Thursday night in Pacifica and run into someone I know, who lives in Marin.

Only at the end of the night did I remember that we were driving home. It was just a short but escapist drive, and we were clearly not at home anymore, and enough influences came together that I happily had fallen into vacation mode. I had been removed from my daily life and left my cares behind.

As is usual with the odd adventure with the Kevin, super happy fun time!

keep an eye out!

I don't fear I will fall prey to a similar addiction—but from my neighborhood to the world, a new trend is bursting forth.

In a single word: monocles.

Mad for him

Mad Men: Roger Sterling one-liners.

eye might have a problem

I have always been a collector of sorts. Up until college, it was comic books. Then it was movies adn television tapes. Then DVDs. I went back to school in 2002 and got a Master of Library and Information Science degree designed around television and film archiving. I was no longer a video hoarder, I am an archivist.

After I fell feet first into the world of country-western dancing, and the gay rodeo, I got a little Imelda with the boots. Including the two pair I keep in Nashville, I think I may have 14 pair of cowboy boots. That's a little excessive. I made myself stop with the boots, and I moved on to buckles, (much smaller and much less expensive). But with the belly protrusion I have stopped that too.

I do love eyeglasses though. I remember my first "cool" pair I got with Frame Consultant James Hass at City Optix on Haight Street. This was around 1997. Flush with a little savings and a new VSP coverage through work, I picked out a beautiful green gun metal pair from L.A. Eyeworks. I thought getting two pair was just far too extravagant. The dude explained it to me this way:

"How many pairs of shoes do you own?"
"A lot."
"These go on your face."
"Sold."

And I never looked back. Well, I did look back, but through some really awesome glasses.

VSP assists in buying new frames and lenses every two years. About two years ago I kind of screwed myself as I didn't realize it was based on the calendar year. I had been visiting some cool wooden frames in the window of Specs in the City in the Castro for a while, but the holidays got manic (as they do) and I decided I would just come back in January. That put me a year our for the next VSP cycle. I couldn't decide between two wooden pair and a sleek pair of black and orange frames. Each frame was about $300-$500. I had about $500 in my flex spending account to use or lose so I was going to get something. The owner/salesperson was nice and offered me all three for $600. The markup on glasses frames must be exorbitant if he could make that offer, which I accepted.

Instead of getting $200-$300 from VSP, I later learned I would only get $20 for each pair as I bought the frames from a shop without an optometrist on site. And the lens prescription themselves would have to be filled at Veo at Church and Market, for which Specs and the City had arranged a discount. I may have been far more out of pocket than I expected, but I got a fashionably crafted wooden set of sunglasses, a pair of wire and wood day frames, and the black-and-orange designer frames.

I swore off specs for a while too.

Then a coworker shared her similar ordeal, and I remember someone once mentioned an online glasses retailer: EyeBuyDirect.com. I thought I would at least take a look.

Prices at EyeBuyDirect range from $6.95 to $49.95, inclusive of prescription lenses. Holy merde. For $7, I was willing to try it out. Shipping is a flat $4.95, so I might as well try two. They had an easy return policy, and each pair cost about as much as a cocktail. That was worth it. By the end of the shopping trip, I had four frames picked out: three regular and one pair sunglasses. Including shipping: $70.

Here's the deal: frames and lenses start around $7. Then come the add-ons: anti-glare, $7, UV filter, $5 and so on. Polarized lenses (for sunglasses), $35. The sunglasses were half the cost of my order. I added UV for the sake of my eyes, but thought that the anti-glare add on was a rip off and I didn't want to overdo it as this began, after all, as just a try-it-out exercise.

It took about three weeks for my glasses to arrive, maybe a month. It takes about two weeks to get the lenses made and fitted, and about two weeks to ship. Only after I made my order did I think to do some consumer experience checking, and I found about five nasty stories online. However, these also did not appear to be from savvy shoppers with realistic expectations, and five bad reports out of thousands of customers seemed like a pretty good track record.

So, the frames arrived, and two of the pair did not look as good in person as they did online. I was able to return them with little to no trouble and only at the cost of shipping, which was less than $5. As I wanted alternative frames instead, it was an even trade.

I liked the pink pair I got for pride, and loved the bright blue pair. However, it seems that the anti-glare coating is something you really need.

A week or so later, I tried calling about getting anti-glare lenses. My first customer service experience with EyeBuyDirect.com was terrible. I was clearly directed a call center somewhere in Asia where the English was limited and critical thinking prohibited. She could only read to me from a script, which did not necessarily address my needs. More than once I had to ask, politely, for her to (1) listen to my question (2) think about it and then (3) using her own knowledge, answer my question based on her understanding of both my question and their practices. Aaaand...nope.

There was a lot of head banging on my end.

I had the frames I wanted, I just wanted to update the lenses. But their stock rotates (one reason they are so cheap) and those frames were out of stock.

"But I have the frames, I just want different lenses."
"I'm sorry sir, but those frames are out of stock."
"Yes, but I would like to return these frames, get the anti-glare lenses, and get the glasses back."
"But those frames are out of stock."

About ten minutes later, I was almost certain she was going to ask me "Who's on first?"

I hung up and called back the next day. Entirely different experience. Still obviously a call center, but his person was more fluent, and was able to communicate off-script. Here's their deal: there is a 14 day immediate return and refund policy, but you have a year to return your glasses for other reasons, no questions asked. When you return a set of frames and lenses, it doesn't get routed to them, but rather a third-party which processes the frames to be recycled or given to charity. They can't take back my frames and put in new lenses. They can make an entirely new pair and send those, provided the frame style is still in stock. Seems wasteful, but makes sense.

So by the end of it, I returned all four frames I bought in the first place, and got four new ones, upping the design on one pair, and adding anti-glare this time to all of them. I paid maybe $11 for the difference. No new shipping charge.

A couple of weeks later, they arrived at my office, and they have been MUCH fun. And so far, the quality of the lenses and prescription are just fine as far as I can tell.

They sent me a discount code for a new pair, and a discount code for me to share with friends. Friends who use this code get %5 off their order, and I get bonus points and credit towards new pairs with every friend who buys using that discount code.

So now I have five new pair of glasses.

Including lenses and shipping, I spent less than $100. And the bulk of that expense was for the new tortoise shell sunglasses I got to keep in the car, but have found they are my new favorite pair. The other frames I got for parties and such, and justified it thinking that $15 was a bargain, and far less than I usually spend on other costume or party props.

But now I think I have another collecting problem. I already had maybe 11 pair of glasses, even though I really just rotate among four of those, and change to the others depending on the occasion and what I'm wearing.

Over the past two months, I have added these to the family, and am loving it:


I've always wanted a blue pair, especially if the Blue Party ever comes back. These have been a big hit and I find myself picking out blue shirts just so I can wear these glasses.


And every time I wear these out, I get compliments, and everyone wants to try them on.


I wanted a pink pair for Pride, which also looked gorge on Easter.




Actually, those are light purple. The pink came out too fleshy and just made my face look out of focus. The darker pair in the group photo are actually dark purple, and look cool when the light catches them.


The red frames, are just simply fun.


And I really couldn't be happier with the tortoise shades. These replace a pair that were stolen from my car ages ago.

But yeah, I recognize this might be a bit excessive. But it is so much fun, and ridiculously affordable as far as fashion obsessions go. With my last order I got some limited sale notices, one of which was a pair akin to ones I had been eyeing in the store last year—brushed copper gunmetal—but they were $595. I snagged them for $6.95 plus the anti-glare and UV filters.

My recent purchases have pushed me into a previously-unknown "VIP" level at EyeBuyDirect, and today I received a code for 20% off sunglasses (but they have to be actually designer sunglasses, not just frames I liked to which I added dark polarized lenses), and links to a special sale.

These caught my eye. So to speak.


While my other frames were around $7 plus, these started at $32. I decided that I absolutely did not need yet another pair of fun time glasses.

I manage to resist most of the day. They'll be here in about three weeks.

If you would like to join me in the fun, and feed the credit in my account, please shop around yourself and use this link or the coupon code IF2NXG2WBI543415 to save 5% on your order. Just get your eye prescription from your doctor or optometrist (they'll e-mail or fax it), and measure your pupillary distance first (so easy: get a ruler, look in the mirror, close one eye and line up the zero with one pupil, close that eye and open the other one, and read the number in the center of that pupil, in millimeters). Bifocals including no-line are easy too, just a little more expensive. And note that the site is predominantly "serious" glasses, not the crazy color ones I bought. I had to hunt for these. So if you're looking for professional, staid yet stylish, or rimless, the site has thousands of choices.

Thank God my prescription doesn't change from year to year. I think it would cost me many thousands of dollars to update the lenses in all my frames using a conventional lab.

I'll be seeing you!

au revoir

In other sad news, I have just learned that Barabara Ann Felch, Madame Felch, passed away this week too. Madame Felch was one of my favorite teachers, and taught me French from six-years-old through fourth grade, and continued to be a teacher and personal friend through my academic career and adult life.

Mom called me last night, and Ensworth included this in the alumni newsletter which just arrived in my inbox:

Ensworth was saddened to learn of the death of Mrs. Barbara Anne Felch, former faculty member, on March 29. "Madame Felch" taught French to generations of Tigers from 1970-2009. Visitation with the family is Fri. Apr. 5, 4-6pm and Sat. Apr. 6 at 10 am preceding the memorial service at 11 am, all at Westminster Presbyterian Church, Nashville. Sons J.W. ('90) and Thomas ('94) are Ensworth alumni.

Au revoir, et merci pour toutes les leçons.

a southern state where 2013 is still 1963

Can you believe there is a county in Georgia that still enforces segregated proms? Last year a bi-racial kid tried to go to the Whites Only prom and they called the police to keep the "impure white" out. WTF?!

This year, against rabid racism from the school officials, parents, county officials and even other students; four girls—two black, two white, all friends—are trying to make the first integrated unofficial prom happen.

In 2013.

Read about it. Visit the Facebook page.

Is it too late for an Easter egg?

I love that someone noticed this:

 

Clearly this was a casting/crew/producer "in" joke.  Maybe they posted this.  Regardless, loves.

Was watching a Friends rerun and noticed this. - Imgur

Unhealthy SF meals at Squat & Gobble?

So back in January, news broke that many, many restaurants were screwing their employees while bilking their customers by adding a Healthy SF surcharge to bills, but not paying the employees' health coverage as required under Healthy SF.

As part of the Healthy SF plan, which requires restaurants and other small businesses to provide some form of health insurance coverage to their employees, there was a provision to allow restaurants to pass the cost along to their customers as a surcharge. This is pretty disingenuous as restaurants could include these costs as part of their business model and the cost of doing business rather than adding a line item to every bill. Basically, it is a political statement on the part of the business owner to do so. Some have expressed their opinion to me that the surcharge may read "Healthy SF" on the bill, but it is really saying "Fuck you" to the customer/SF citizenry for voting for it, and shows an open disdain for their employees.

While I do not whole heartedly agree with that assessment, I take their point. (The charges I've seen have usually been $1-$3 per check. I have a hard time believing that couldn't be spread out in pennies across the price of various items, or absorbed in business costs.) However, I have also noticed some liberal superiority in the happiness to pay the surcharge as it supports the service industry which needs all the respect it can get for their hard work. If I have been so satisfied to pay the Healthy SF charge for the good it creates, should I be so bothered about it appearing as a charge and not an increased price?

Unfortunately for everyone, the potentially unscrupulous and arrogant nature of the surcharge was made outright nefarious when the City's Office of Labor Standards Enforcement audit found that restaurants had collected over $5 million dollars in Healthy SF fees, without providing the insurance or coverage for which they were purporting to be passing thought the cost. After public outcry, the City had released their list of offenders.

photo from SFGate

To be fair, some cases may have in fact been clerical and compliance recording errors. And for this reason, the City offered a grace period for these offenders to make good.

At the top of the list of the most egregious offenders was one of my favorite brunch spots: Squat & Gobble in the Castro at Market and Noe/16th.

When I needed a convenient and amusing place to take a visiting friend staying at a B&B on Henry Street, I told him to meet me at Squat & Gobble around his corner. I had been actively boycotting this place since I learned that the owner tacked on extra charges to his customers (i.e. me and my friends) to the tune of $160,498, and payed employee health expenses totaling... wait for it... $0.

For some reason, I thought all of this had been worked out. Either I thought the grace period had expired or I had a half-remembered conversation in the neighborhood that the owner had done the right thing and taken care of everything.

Apparently, such is not the case.

When I arrived Saturday morning, the owner recognized me and greeting me warmly, and was kind enough to let me "reserve" an outside table as I waited for Andrew to walk the two blocks to the restaurant. This turned out to be an even bigger favor as while I was waiting the crowd grew large and outside tables became a premium.  Meanwhile, Apple Maps sent Andrew to the Squat & Gobble at Haight and Fillmore, who directed him to the one in the Upper Haight (at which point he called to clarify), and the confusion and long walk back left me camped at a premium table with a coffee for longer than expected.

While I was waiting for Andrew, a handsome gay couple in their 40s walked up to the patio, and greeted the owner. The conversation went along these lines:

Paraphrasing: "Hi. It's nice to see you. We came by just to see you and to let you know that we miss you, and we miss coming here, but we won't come back until you clean up that Healthy SF business. That's why we haven't been coming here, and we thought it was important that you knew that."

At the point the owner bunched his shoulders and avoided their eye contact and displayed every aspect body language I would associate with shame. He hemmed and hawed but didn't really say anything. The couple was kind and calm, and also unwavering. "You know this is important. And that is a lot of money. It's not okay."

At this point I was thinking, "Well, shit. I have been avoiding everyone on that list on principle and now I feel like a hypocrite. But I also can't leave at this point, and I certainly can't leave without telling him why or else what would be the point of leaving, and after his kindness this morning that would turn the friendly relationship bitter. Also, I don't want spit in my coffee."

So I sat, slightly ashamed of myself, and eavesdropped intently to hear if the owner did in fact have an explanation, justification, or confession. I did not or could not hear one.  Ultimately, they hugged it out and parted ways.

I did try to catch the eye of either one of the men, to share my concern and ask them where things stood now as far as they knew and what came of their conversation. I failed at that, and could not easily cross the front line of tables and bars to casually approach them.

So I don't know what's up with the apparent fraud at Squat & Gobble, or if ownership is treating the staff with respect or providing basic health coverage as required by law.

Anyone out there have any news? I'm thinking of passing this question on to the SF Appeal, the finest source for local news-news. Or better yet, I'll ask the Castro Biscuit, the best source for local-local news in the Castro.

Update:  Yes, the whole accounting thing is terribly complicated and companies are required to have a set aside funds account for health care for their workers, but the legislation/regulations are a bit unclear on how they are to be spent or how overages are to be accounted.  Which is why the grace period was offered for people to get their reporting and relevant accounting act together.  However, at $160k reported collected and a zero reported spent, and the body-shrug/head-hung-in-shame act I witnessed on Saturday, I don't think the S&G case is a clerical one.

Sundance, Tuesdance, Thursdance, and Saturdance Saloon

Sundance Saloon is expanding their dance nights around the City.  Thursdays and Sundays will continue at the regular space at 550 Barneveld, and now in addition to the Third Saturdays at Beatbox in South of Market (11th Street near Folsom), Sundance Saloon will be line dancing and two stepping every Tuesday at Beatbox too.

missing Mees

I've just heard that brilliant designer, Emmy-winning Star Trek TNG decorator, and all around fine person Jim Mees recently succumbed to cancer. I worked with him on my first ArtRageous as I was just coming out in 1996, and am grateful to have called him friend ever since.

Cheekwood and the Swan Ball will be paying tribute to his legacy in Nashville.  Take a quick look at his IMDB credits to see where you have seen his hand over the past 40 years. Credits run from One Day at a Time and The Jeffersons, through his steallar work on Star Trek TNG, Voyager, and Enterprise; up through Gilmore Girls, Private Practice and Bones.

I just noticed he also worked on Women's Murder Club, which was a short-lived and terrible LA depiction of SF. My good buddy Helena Lamb was the Assistant Director on that but I enjoyed seeing her credit. I wish I had noticed Jim was working on that too as I would have loved to have gotten them together socially.

I am grateful that he shared his diagnosis and condition with the Swan Ball committee last year. We had fallen out of touch since his "retirement" to Pennsylvania, and I was able to write him a heartfelt letter of affection and appreciation before it was too late. I am very much conscious of not leaving important things unsaid, and I am glad I had the opportunity to put pen and pensive to paper.  57 is far too young to go.

This e-mail came through about an hour ago via Mom from the Swan Ball Office. Jim was the designer of several Swan Ball events, and was the man behind the 50th anniversary ball last year.

Dear All Chairs of the Ball,

We have lost a bright spot of brilliance in our Swan Ball Productions. Jim Mees, Emmy Award-winner famous as the set decorator for the "Star Trek" series, and wonderful fellow, has passed away. Jim led the production teams of 12 Swan Balls and lent his creative genius to the process of creating the look and style many of us wanted to achieve. He brought humor and energy to the task. After many Swan Balls, he came to fully appreciate and admire our mission and intention, and he grew to love our beautiful Cheekwood too.

Jim's service information to date is included here with information about flowers and memorials: His service will be at the Salem Lutheran Church in Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania on Monday, April 8 at 11:00 AM. The local florist in Selinsgrove is Rines Florist 800.993.1953. In the event flowers are sent, Jim's wishes are that they be yellow, green and white.

Sassy Carroll is going to the service and has let us know that donations can be made to Cheekwood in his memory.

Jim: A toast to you dear friend! Thank you for bringing your special style, flair, and unparalleled sense of scale to our Balls. You are much missed!

Sincerely,

Cathy Jackson

For my Trek fans out here, here is the Star Trek interview (video) with Jim about designing for Star Trek (unfortunately, I can't embed it), and his entry in the official Star Trek Database.

And the celebratory obituary at Star Trek.com.

Update: This was just posted minutes ago to the Hollywood Reporter.  Go read it.

Jim Mees: man of style and grace.  Thank you.  And cheers to you.

April showers on Easter bonnets

It may have been March 31st, but this Easter Sunday was still winter in most of the country, and a very wet April day in San Francisco. Easter does require some sartorial splendor, and I pulled out the seersucker shirt, pink ties, and linen jackets. Bonnets were debated, and while the bunny boater was festive,


I opted for a simpler fedora with Easter chick.


After mass, Coco and I pounced on our favorite table in the Castro.


What the menu may lack in brunch glamour, it makes up for in "right sized" mimosas.


Harvey's will never win any culinary awards, but the staff and energy of Harvey's is much fun on a Sunday, and the table in the window is always a fun perch, particularly for Easter Sunday socializing and people watching—both the delightful and the WTF.

Such as:


The day started out sunny, but by 11:30 there were scattered showers. And by 12:30, torrential downpours. We decided, wisely, against the party in the park, and enjoyed our perch as long as possible, before moving to the window and the fun people in 440.




As usual, some were more fun than others...






It was fun to be rowdy with other happy-go-lucky people, as we witnessed the downpour outside, and I suppose a different sort of down-pour inside.

Atlanta Michael particularly loved my hat. And the chick. He kept saying how tasty it looked. It didn't occur to me that he was serious, and that I needed to point out that it wasn't a peep. He actually bit and tried to eat the chick off my hat!


I left him gnaw for a moment or two before declaring that it wasn't edible. Ew.


From there I walked Coco to her bus, and joined other revelers hiding from the rain in The Edge. Shouts out to Hegarty and Richardson, or as I captioned the photo: Thundercats, Ho.


Bright spots on a dark and rainy day!

Curry Up, Curry Scores

Davidson's Warriors' Stephen Curry perfecting the imperfect art of shooting

Via Sports Illustrated, this is pretty freaking cool.

The easy stat to cite is Curry's lifetime three-point percentage of 44.6, the second highest ever behind Steve Kerr's 45.4 (and without the benefit of the shorter 1990s-era line). That number does Curry a disservice, though, for the other players near the top of that list are guys such as Kerr, Hubert Davis, Jason Kapono, Steve Novak and Tim Legler. All are prototypical spot-up shooters, men whose NBA existence is/was predicated on playing limited minutes, standing at a certain spot on the arc and waiting for someone to pass them the ball, often once the defense has been sucked in another direction. Of the top 40 three-point percentage leaders, only Steve Nash and Mark Price were also primary ball handlers, and neither of them was counted on to score like Curry, who is the Warriors' first (and occasionally only viable) scoring option.]

Rather, to truly appreciate Curry's skill, you have to look at how and where he takes his shots. This season, according to NBA.com, the 6-foot-3 Curry is shooting 65.9 percent on pull-up jumpers (in 176 attempts), 69.8 percent on step-back jumpers (63 attempts) and 72.7 percent on running bank shots (a smaller sample size of 11 attempts). For comparison, Novak has not attempted a step-back jumper. Or a running bank shot. He has, however, taken four pull-up jumpers, and no doubt each one scared the hell out of Knicks coach Mike Woodson.

Certainly, there are other players who sink crafty shots, or are devastating mid-range shooters -- Kobe Bryant, for example. What separates Curry from those players is his consistency and range. Curry doesn't just make a lot of threes; he makes a lot of deep threes. Whereas many of the spot-up specialists camp out in the short corner like gargoyles, Curry usually launches from the top of the arc, and often on the move.

love your memes

I missed this when it first came around, but the resurgence of Surprised Patrick is cracking me UP.

Know Your Meme
We Know Memes
And on Twitter.

Molly,

You in danger, girl.

April 1

Too often I feel as if I am surrounded by fools. It would be nice if there were an April Be Entirely Reasonable Day.