Another example of why I adore Improv Everywhere.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
April showers.
A deluge of weirdness this weekend.
By Wednesday of last week I thought that this weekend would be eventful. By Thursday night I thought it would be completely boring. Come the cool blue dawn of Monday, I contemplated the previous 48 hours in disbelief.
In the mix this weekend: gallery opening, managing a girl's crush, lessons in the game, the “classy hootchification” of Amy Day, birthday Bacchanalia for a hot tamale with actual tamales, a snake named Harley, formal wear capes, black tie in a leather bar, being fondled by an elected official, antique car show, champagne on Nob Hill, the unwise rekindling of an old crush, an equally ill-advised marriage proposal, and food poisoning.
I blame the moon. It’s all new and creative and bringing all sorts of odd flotsam to the surface. I seem to be riding a tide. Of what? I dunno.
It's May first. What will this moonth bring?
By Wednesday of last week I thought that this weekend would be eventful. By Thursday night I thought it would be completely boring. Come the cool blue dawn of Monday, I contemplated the previous 48 hours in disbelief.
In the mix this weekend: gallery opening, managing a girl's crush, lessons in the game, the “classy hootchification” of Amy Day, birthday Bacchanalia for a hot tamale with actual tamales, a snake named Harley, formal wear capes, black tie in a leather bar, being fondled by an elected official, antique car show, champagne on Nob Hill, the unwise rekindling of an old crush, an equally ill-advised marriage proposal, and food poisoning.
I blame the moon. It’s all new and creative and bringing all sorts of odd flotsam to the surface. I seem to be riding a tide. Of what? I dunno.
It's May first. What will this moonth bring?
Friday, April 28, 2006
Black tie, white hot.
Shilpa and I have gotten as close as sibs. We are fabulous, riotously funny, and we make work bearable for each other. Last night was a big black-tie work function. And frankly, we looked hot:
And we could't resist taking a prom pose:
But the question remains, which one is the prom queen?
And we could't resist taking a prom pose:
But the question remains, which one is the prom queen?
Overheard at work - 5
"Are you bringing roadies? I just need to know if I need to bring my own."
"I'll set you up. Would you like a dark liquor? That tends to make me flirty."
"I'll set you up. Would you like a dark liquor? That tends to make me flirty."
Babes in Toyland: Weekend Review, April 22-23
Before we get to this next weekend, which hopes to be eventful, I want to catch up on the last one.
I crossed a bridge (horrors! horrors!) to go take a spin in the fabulous 77 El Deora over at the Ivy Room in Albany (just north of Berkeley). While the door guy, who looked like Uncle Jesse’s stoned cousin, argued with me that they weren’t playing that night, the marquee in front of which he stood begged to differ.
Saturday was a home/neighborhood day filled with sleeping late, cleaning, going to the hardware store, grocery etc. and getting my haircut on Haight. I had planned to go down to Union Square and get a new tux but time did not permit. I had made plans to see (finally) Deb and little Roman (although his name among the tribe is Zack) at her place in Sausalito.
Roman at five weeks. Already a charmer.
Deb’s niece Grace visited about five years ago, and was pushing ten at the time. We had much fun and she thought I was the coolest person in the world. Which of course I am. This weekend her younger sister Emma was in town. It was very odd to see her younger sister who is much older than the Grace which exists in my mind. Grace had told Deb to tell me ‘hi,’ and had said to Deb “I can’t believe I haven’t seen Wilson since I was ten.” I feel like it was just last summer, but five years to a fifteen-year-old is much more significant.
I recall we took her to Michael Driver’s birthday party at David Britt’s place in Rockridge (aka the Britannic Gardens). It was a lovely garden affair with about 90% fabulous gay men (well I suppose it was more like 50% fabulous gays, 40% just plain gays, and then 10% straight couples). What could be more fun for a 10 year-old girl? Those big mo’s were basically ten-year-old girls anyway. Driver was wearing a tiara and even got some Hello Kitty gifts.
I’m just sayin’.
The highlight of the annual event is the frozen margarita machine. Which looks just like a slushie to a little girl and its hard for her to understand why she can’t have one. Grace did have a wonderful time, until she got sick with a bad tummy ache. Either she had gotten into the frozen margaritas, or perhaps it was easting her body weight in sugar coated gummy worms that did her in. My bet was on a little of both. It did make the day memorable.
Grace had an intensively fantastic gay week in SF with movies and ice cream and silly events, tale telling about her Auntie Deb, and other witty repartee. I felt somewhat neglectful that her younger sister Emma had not experienced that side of SF, and felt I had to make it up as best as I could. We even discussed that Grace still talks about her trip. And I am sure I (and other guys here) have ruined her for other men. I imagine her grasping her boyfriend by the shoulders and shaking him, perhaps even throwing in a face slap, and ordering him to "BE MORE FABULOUS!"
Earlier that day at Just for Kids on Haight Street I had picked up a very cool sheep for Roman/Zach (whom I named Sherman). I also found a boa for Emma. Now buying a boa can be a tricky thing. The big chicken ones are fun by their camp value, and only certain women and drag queens can pull it off. On a 10-year-old it looks like they’re playing dress up. But the smaller, finely feathered boas (ostrich down maybe?) tend to dress an outfit up rather than making it look like playing “dress up.” It can be a practical scarf for warmth, or add a little pizzazz to jeans and a top. A thin beige boa has many more appropriate options for a little girl than a full on Mae West number. And it has the added cachet of being from her “gay friend in San Francisco.” Those worldly fourth graders. I also gave her a back of sugar coated gummy worms so she would not feel left out. (“Here. I got you something to make you sick on the plane.”)
I gave Deb her first boa at her first gay pride parade lo those many years ago and boas have a very special place in her heart. She and Emma sort of bonded over the boa. I love girls. I also know how younger kids love it when you talk to them like they are not kids, or include them in grown-up humor. However, Deb and mine humor is so exceedingly childish that it was rather ironic to consider this adult conversation. For example, upon my entering the house Deb, nursing, announced, “Sorry I can’t get up. I have a boy attached to my boob.” I responded, “That’s okay. You always do.”
Emma, Wilson, and Roman
We proceeded to have dinner, play with the baby (as much play as a five-week-old plays), and watch trashy “Top 100 Teen Idols” on TV. By 9:00 they needed to get ready for bed so I said my good-byes and went hunting for Lance and Barney in the Castro.
I couldn’t get Lance to answer his phone or a text so I went to about five bars before I gave up and headed home. About two blocks from my house Lance texted back and 30 minutes of parking later I joined them at the Metro.
Lance had taken Barney and Beth and someone else on an excursion down south all day. As Lance had spent most of his day driving, he was only on his first or second drink. Barney, as entertained passenger, had been drinking wine and cocktails all day and was on his second or third sheet to the wind.
Barney and Lance were cozy at the bar with an exceptionally handsome and exceptionally young looking guy with his young buxom gal pal in tow. I knew I would like her after she opened her mouth and all of South Carolina’s vowels fell out. When I am in SF, I have pretty much lost my accent. But put on the phone with mamma or in a bar with other southerners and it struts right out to the front porch. Law me.
Our new friends are James and Laurie. Neither of whom look much over 21. If. It turns out that they met when James was Laurie’s teacher back in high school. She just turned 21, and he’s 30. And they are both much fun. Laurie is a sassy sweet thing spending a semester up in Sonoma and who bonded with Barney over their nicotine addiction. James came out and escaped South Carolina (“Why go to college? You don’t need learnin’ for farmin’!”), became a teacher, and is now in the D.C. area getting a graduate degree in Biology. I only learned that last bit later, which in hindsight made his stories about spending so much time cutting up worms and watching them regenerate seem much less Boo Radley.
Although there was talk of going to the final pageant for Miss Bay Area Rodeo/Gay Rodeo Queen at Marlena’s, we stayed all night at the Metro having fun with James and Laurie. As young, poor, student tourists they had been staying in a cheap hotel in not the greatest neighborhood. They only had reservations for the week, and Laurie was leaving the next day (Sunday). James was in town until Monday and need to make arrangements for another night somewhere in the City.
Back in Nashville we’ve opened up our home to all sorts of new friends, and it is times like these that I regret not having a larger apartment. Lance and I had spent enough time with James to know that he was a good guy and pretty much PLU and clearly sane. We made plans to meet for brunch Sunday morning and Lance generously offered up his guest room for James to stay Sunday night. And after careful consideration James accepted. Lance too was flying out Monday for Arizona but had not yet bought his ticket. Barney, meanwhile, was slowly but surely sending his body into toxic shock with tequila and tonics.
The next day, I met Lance, James, and Laurie for brunch at Luna.
I love this pic. It looks like a stock commercial shot with the generic “Sunday Brunch” chalk sign. I also think it is a good shot of everyone. I also have to post a close up of James, because he is just that pretty:
That, and this will embarrass him as I know he’s reading this blog.
Lunch was hilarious with good food and good company. While my company ordered two mimosas over the course of lunch, I just drank my one “large” mimosa out of the ridiculous fishbowl it was served in. When the check came, that item was listed succinctly just as a “Big One.”
After lunch, Laurie left to meet her friend and drive back to Sonoma, James went to explore the Mission and see the murals, Lance dealt with the house and work and the dog and such and I headed down to Macy’s Men’s to buy a new tuxedo. I am ashamed to say I have outgrown the one I own. However, I have had the old one since like college so it’s not all that unreasonable to have spread out since then. Tuxedo shopping was a long and arduous affair, but made much more palatable by the charm of my shopping assistant Terri and the fact that I just happened on the last day of the annual Men’s sale and I was ultimately able to buy a nice $500+ suit of dinner clothes for around $260, including tax. I was tempted to buy a new silk dinner jacket as well, but thought that the cheap one I already own was sufficient and I should not look for excuses to spend more money. (Now that I have tried on my old dinner jacket, which won’t even accommodate my shoulders or biceps, I regret not getting a new one while it was in a reasonable price range. The summer formal season is upon us you know.) This week I have been bidding on this vintage western one on eBay:
Sunday night, heh heh, Lance and I took James out to Sundance Saloon. Generally, gay cowboy country western dancing is not what most guys expect when they come to San Francisco. Which is why I think it is such fun to take tourists. It is so off the guidebook track, everyone is genuinely friendly (and friendly without agenda), and everyone has a good time. Lance and I started going together and took the lessons years ago, but he has only been back five or six times in the past several years.
I was worried about James on the way over, as we were playing country music to gear up, and he was having some unpleasant childhood flashbacks (a little SC-PTSD). But after a long night of drinking and dancing I believe we successfully created some positive associations to country music. And for not having two-stepped before (and for being in sneakers), James danced quite well his first time out.
The turnout at Sundance has been increasing steadily, and almost double that of last year. The popularity is such that they are now trying a Sundance night Thursdays as well. I have no idea if it will be as much fun. The crowd last Sunday was great. A lot of new people, and almost all of my old favorites. Lots and lots of dancing, even if the dance floor is too crowded to do anything particularly expressive. Matt was there again, but Jackson was not. I thought they were good friends but it seems they just met each other a week or two ago at the lessons. Matt had left me a voice mail earlier on Sunday asking if I would be out at Sundance, and we spent some time together at the bar. I got a very strong "interested" vibe from him and thought about going out with him even though I know first-hand (I suppose literally) the dangers of dating within the Sundance Saloon population—if things don’t go well it may be extremely awkward as you will see them again, and on a weekly basis.
I called Matt Tuesday evening and left a voice mail asking him out for tonight (Friday)—dinner first then a drop in at Coco’s birthday party, and maybe even a 77 show later depending on how the evening progressed. He never called back. I am trying to reserve judgment and will update later.
I crossed a bridge (horrors! horrors!) to go take a spin in the fabulous 77 El Deora over at the Ivy Room in Albany (just north of Berkeley). While the door guy, who looked like Uncle Jesse’s stoned cousin, argued with me that they weren’t playing that night, the marquee in front of which he stood begged to differ.
Saturday was a home/neighborhood day filled with sleeping late, cleaning, going to the hardware store, grocery etc. and getting my haircut on Haight. I had planned to go down to Union Square and get a new tux but time did not permit. I had made plans to see (finally) Deb and little Roman (although his name among the tribe is Zack) at her place in Sausalito.
Deb’s niece Grace visited about five years ago, and was pushing ten at the time. We had much fun and she thought I was the coolest person in the world. Which of course I am. This weekend her younger sister Emma was in town. It was very odd to see her younger sister who is much older than the Grace which exists in my mind. Grace had told Deb to tell me ‘hi,’ and had said to Deb “I can’t believe I haven’t seen Wilson since I was ten.” I feel like it was just last summer, but five years to a fifteen-year-old is much more significant.
I recall we took her to Michael Driver’s birthday party at David Britt’s place in Rockridge (aka the Britannic Gardens). It was a lovely garden affair with about 90% fabulous gay men (well I suppose it was more like 50% fabulous gays, 40% just plain gays, and then 10% straight couples). What could be more fun for a 10 year-old girl? Those big mo’s were basically ten-year-old girls anyway. Driver was wearing a tiara and even got some Hello Kitty gifts.
I’m just sayin’.
The highlight of the annual event is the frozen margarita machine. Which looks just like a slushie to a little girl and its hard for her to understand why she can’t have one. Grace did have a wonderful time, until she got sick with a bad tummy ache. Either she had gotten into the frozen margaritas, or perhaps it was easting her body weight in sugar coated gummy worms that did her in. My bet was on a little of both. It did make the day memorable.
Grace had an intensively fantastic gay week in SF with movies and ice cream and silly events, tale telling about her Auntie Deb, and other witty repartee. I felt somewhat neglectful that her younger sister Emma had not experienced that side of SF, and felt I had to make it up as best as I could. We even discussed that Grace still talks about her trip. And I am sure I (and other guys here) have ruined her for other men. I imagine her grasping her boyfriend by the shoulders and shaking him, perhaps even throwing in a face slap, and ordering him to "BE MORE FABULOUS!"
Earlier that day at Just for Kids on Haight Street I had picked up a very cool sheep for Roman/Zach (whom I named Sherman). I also found a boa for Emma. Now buying a boa can be a tricky thing. The big chicken ones are fun by their camp value, and only certain women and drag queens can pull it off. On a 10-year-old it looks like they’re playing dress up. But the smaller, finely feathered boas (ostrich down maybe?) tend to dress an outfit up rather than making it look like playing “dress up.” It can be a practical scarf for warmth, or add a little pizzazz to jeans and a top. A thin beige boa has many more appropriate options for a little girl than a full on Mae West number. And it has the added cachet of being from her “gay friend in San Francisco.” Those worldly fourth graders. I also gave her a back of sugar coated gummy worms so she would not feel left out. (“Here. I got you something to make you sick on the plane.”)
I gave Deb her first boa at her first gay pride parade lo those many years ago and boas have a very special place in her heart. She and Emma sort of bonded over the boa. I love girls. I also know how younger kids love it when you talk to them like they are not kids, or include them in grown-up humor. However, Deb and mine humor is so exceedingly childish that it was rather ironic to consider this adult conversation. For example, upon my entering the house Deb, nursing, announced, “Sorry I can’t get up. I have a boy attached to my boob.” I responded, “That’s okay. You always do.”
We proceeded to have dinner, play with the baby (as much play as a five-week-old plays), and watch trashy “Top 100 Teen Idols” on TV. By 9:00 they needed to get ready for bed so I said my good-byes and went hunting for Lance and Barney in the Castro.
I couldn’t get Lance to answer his phone or a text so I went to about five bars before I gave up and headed home. About two blocks from my house Lance texted back and 30 minutes of parking later I joined them at the Metro.
Lance had taken Barney and Beth and someone else on an excursion down south all day. As Lance had spent most of his day driving, he was only on his first or second drink. Barney, as entertained passenger, had been drinking wine and cocktails all day and was on his second or third sheet to the wind.
Barney and Lance were cozy at the bar with an exceptionally handsome and exceptionally young looking guy with his young buxom gal pal in tow. I knew I would like her after she opened her mouth and all of South Carolina’s vowels fell out. When I am in SF, I have pretty much lost my accent. But put on the phone with mamma or in a bar with other southerners and it struts right out to the front porch. Law me.
Our new friends are James and Laurie. Neither of whom look much over 21. If. It turns out that they met when James was Laurie’s teacher back in high school. She just turned 21, and he’s 30. And they are both much fun. Laurie is a sassy sweet thing spending a semester up in Sonoma and who bonded with Barney over their nicotine addiction. James came out and escaped South Carolina (“Why go to college? You don’t need learnin’ for farmin’!”), became a teacher, and is now in the D.C. area getting a graduate degree in Biology. I only learned that last bit later, which in hindsight made his stories about spending so much time cutting up worms and watching them regenerate seem much less Boo Radley.
Although there was talk of going to the final pageant for Miss Bay Area Rodeo/Gay Rodeo Queen at Marlena’s, we stayed all night at the Metro having fun with James and Laurie. As young, poor, student tourists they had been staying in a cheap hotel in not the greatest neighborhood. They only had reservations for the week, and Laurie was leaving the next day (Sunday). James was in town until Monday and need to make arrangements for another night somewhere in the City.
Back in Nashville we’ve opened up our home to all sorts of new friends, and it is times like these that I regret not having a larger apartment. Lance and I had spent enough time with James to know that he was a good guy and pretty much PLU and clearly sane. We made plans to meet for brunch Sunday morning and Lance generously offered up his guest room for James to stay Sunday night. And after careful consideration James accepted. Lance too was flying out Monday for Arizona but had not yet bought his ticket. Barney, meanwhile, was slowly but surely sending his body into toxic shock with tequila and tonics.
The next day, I met Lance, James, and Laurie for brunch at Luna.
I love this pic. It looks like a stock commercial shot with the generic “Sunday Brunch” chalk sign. I also think it is a good shot of everyone. I also have to post a close up of James, because he is just that pretty:
That, and this will embarrass him as I know he’s reading this blog.
Lunch was hilarious with good food and good company. While my company ordered two mimosas over the course of lunch, I just drank my one “large” mimosa out of the ridiculous fishbowl it was served in. When the check came, that item was listed succinctly just as a “Big One.”
After lunch, Laurie left to meet her friend and drive back to Sonoma, James went to explore the Mission and see the murals, Lance dealt with the house and work and the dog and such and I headed down to Macy’s Men’s to buy a new tuxedo. I am ashamed to say I have outgrown the one I own. However, I have had the old one since like college so it’s not all that unreasonable to have spread out since then. Tuxedo shopping was a long and arduous affair, but made much more palatable by the charm of my shopping assistant Terri and the fact that I just happened on the last day of the annual Men’s sale and I was ultimately able to buy a nice $500+ suit of dinner clothes for around $260, including tax. I was tempted to buy a new silk dinner jacket as well, but thought that the cheap one I already own was sufficient and I should not look for excuses to spend more money. (Now that I have tried on my old dinner jacket, which won’t even accommodate my shoulders or biceps, I regret not getting a new one while it was in a reasonable price range. The summer formal season is upon us you know.) This week I have been bidding on this vintage western one on eBay:
Sunday night, heh heh, Lance and I took James out to Sundance Saloon. Generally, gay cowboy country western dancing is not what most guys expect when they come to San Francisco. Which is why I think it is such fun to take tourists. It is so off the guidebook track, everyone is genuinely friendly (and friendly without agenda), and everyone has a good time. Lance and I started going together and took the lessons years ago, but he has only been back five or six times in the past several years.
I was worried about James on the way over, as we were playing country music to gear up, and he was having some unpleasant childhood flashbacks (a little SC-PTSD). But after a long night of drinking and dancing I believe we successfully created some positive associations to country music. And for not having two-stepped before (and for being in sneakers), James danced quite well his first time out.
The turnout at Sundance has been increasing steadily, and almost double that of last year. The popularity is such that they are now trying a Sundance night Thursdays as well. I have no idea if it will be as much fun. The crowd last Sunday was great. A lot of new people, and almost all of my old favorites. Lots and lots of dancing, even if the dance floor is too crowded to do anything particularly expressive. Matt was there again, but Jackson was not. I thought they were good friends but it seems they just met each other a week or two ago at the lessons. Matt had left me a voice mail earlier on Sunday asking if I would be out at Sundance, and we spent some time together at the bar. I got a very strong "interested" vibe from him and thought about going out with him even though I know first-hand (I suppose literally) the dangers of dating within the Sundance Saloon population—if things don’t go well it may be extremely awkward as you will see them again, and on a weekly basis.
I called Matt Tuesday evening and left a voice mail asking him out for tonight (Friday)—dinner first then a drop in at Coco’s birthday party, and maybe even a 77 show later depending on how the evening progressed. He never called back. I am trying to reserve judgment and will update later.
Overheard at work - 4
"Oh! We had the scary tranny shuttle driver again today! She nearly killed us five or six times."
Craziness in the Castro
Cars collide with explosions, deaths, and lots of fire. Craziness at Castro and Market. This all went down in front of Cliff's last night.
Read the story from the Chronicle.
(Photo also from www.sfgate.com)
Read the story from the Chronicle.
(Photo also from www.sfgate.com)
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Rubber band - II
Right on! The Whoreshoes have a track called Gay Rodeo.
Three full-length tracks are available for download from their web site.
Three full-length tracks are available for download from their web site.
Rubber band
I love a clever band name, especially for a honky tonk band. I found a new one while checking out the calendar over at Hicks with Sticks.
Sure the "Dolly Ranchers" had a cute name, but I was (ahem) blown away by The Whoreshoes.
Sure the "Dolly Ranchers" had a cute name, but I was (ahem) blown away by The Whoreshoes.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Backblog
Hey Kids. It was miserable week but a great weekend. And I'll get around to the stories of Friday in Albany, Saturday in Sausalito, Saturday night and the lovely Laurie and James at the Metro, and a near perfect Sunday of good company, sale shopping, and dancing. But not now. Not enough time today. I do, however, have a backlog of overheard comments scribbled on cocktail napkins which I accumulated last week and weekend.
From after work cocktails at Café Flore:
On the recent largess of Janet Jackson, and then some other random divas:
"They have always had BAP."
"BAP?"
"Big Ass Potential. Now they are just actualizing their big butts."
(Me) "'Ass Actualization?' That sounds like a really bad class at the Learning Annex."
Same day, remarking on small tourist with an exceptionally large camera:
Says the pediatrician: "The smaller the man, the larger the camera."
[Silence around the table.]
Pediatrician, matter-of-factly, "It's an extension of the penis."
Also from the pediatrician:
"It's never too early to start drinking."
[Shocked looks around the table.]
"I meant in the day!"
And last, but not least, dating advice overheard in the bar much later:
"Subtlety never got anyone laid."
From after work cocktails at Café Flore:
On the recent largess of Janet Jackson, and then some other random divas:
"They have always had BAP."
"BAP?"
"Big Ass Potential. Now they are just actualizing their big butts."
(Me) "'Ass Actualization?' That sounds like a really bad class at the Learning Annex."
Same day, remarking on small tourist with an exceptionally large camera:
Says the pediatrician: "The smaller the man, the larger the camera."
[Silence around the table.]
Pediatrician, matter-of-factly, "It's an extension of the penis."
Also from the pediatrician:
"It's never too early to start drinking."
[Shocked looks around the table.]
"I meant in the day!"
And last, but not least, dating advice overheard in the bar much later:
"Subtlety never got anyone laid."
Thursday, April 20, 2006
PH, balanced.
When I first moved here, I stayed very much in my comfort zone. True to my 37205 background, I joined the social circle best described by the now-defunct bar Alta Plaza. Very A-gay, socialite, moneyed, white, WASPy-- basically Pacific Heights.Flash forward more than nine years. Tonight I am attending the finals of the South of Market Bare Chest Calendar competition at the Powerhouse.
I know four of the contestants.
And dated one of them.
Passive OK Senate Gives Passive OK to Libraries
I had heard rumors and muttering that some yahoos in the Oklahoma House passed a bill, by an alarming 60-33 vote, they would deny state funding to any library that did not segregate any children's or young adult's books dealing with or featuring any gay themes or contents into a restricted area. Aside from the fact that politicians have notoriously always proven themselves to be incredibly ill-equipped to determine appropriate manage academic materials much less what the public should have access to in a public library, I can't imagine any library, librarian, or the ALA standing by this. As this moved to the state senate for a vote, I sensed a huge backlash coming. They should know better than to fuck with a librarian.
While the Oklahoma senate took the coward's route and did not slam the bill into oblivion for the bigoted uselessness that it is, it at least recognized the dangers or the denegrations of supporting such a bill and let it expire without action.
Oklahoma Senate Won’t Defund Inclusive Kids’ Collections
While the Oklahoma senate took the coward's route and did not slam the bill into oblivion for the bigoted uselessness that it is, it at least recognized the dangers or the denegrations of supporting such a bill and let it expire without action.
Oklahoma Senate Won’t Defund Inclusive Kids’ Collections
What dreams may come
Or rather, nightmares. Yesterday was a seriously crappy day. The beast howls again. I didn't have time for much in the way of lunch, and succombed to the evil that is the Panda downstairs. At first glance, I was reassured by my fortune cookie: "Your luck will be changed today."
Until I noticed it didn't say for better or for worse. This week, I am much more of a glass-half-empty kinda guy.
Until I noticed it didn't say for better or for worse. This week, I am much more of a glass-half-empty kinda guy.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
First "Cowboy," now "Acoustic."
Erasure's new album (released yesterday in the U.S.) and The Acoustic Tour are being referred to as "not your 80's erasure" and "a Nashville sound." There has got to be some genetic tie between gayness and Erasure. I don't get it really. But I love it. And I have always regretted not going to their concert in SF the week that I finally moved here back in Feb 1997. But I didn't know anyone here yet and didn't want to go alone. Had it been vinyl I would have worn out the grooves on the Cowboy album.
They are scheduled to play the Herbst in SF on May 11th, when I'll be in Nashville. And they will be playing in Nashville on May 5th, when I'll be in SF. Criminey! The SF show is already sold out, but what I wouldn't give to see Erasure at the Ryman! (Long legs of mine be damned.)
I say I say I say.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Quake me up before you go go - IV
I am way too tired now. We have also each nodded off at our desks once or twice this morning. I was up at 3:30, and may have been abandonded my muni, but met some fun people in the wee hours with whom to share a cab: Piet, Anna, and Anna (the latter pronounced Ah-Nah). Anna the latter has been going to the anniversary ceremony for more than 30 years.
More details to follow, but I am headed home for a much needed disco nap now.
Here are some pics from the morning. Professional coverage and wonderful photos are all over the web (just Google News "San Francisco Quake 100" or the like), so I won't bother linking or re-posting anyone else's work here.
RMJ had to abandon the black top hat plan, but still he still managed to craft us some fun headdresses. The idea was that we would all stand out looking for each other at the fountain (as they did 100 years ago) and when we came together we would make "San Francisco." We had lots of photo ops and enjoyed the company of many another costumed reveler. At the time RMJ joined Lance and me (Lance was on time, I of course was not, and RMJ appeared even later), Barney still hadn't left the house. So we forayed without him and stumbled upon RMJ's friend Maurice (wandering with Ggreg at the time), who is always happy to don a costume or a big hat. Especially if there is glitter. We found our fourth.
Lance Wills, Robert Michael Joseph, Maurice Kelly, and Wilson Hardcastle
(I look like a young Wilford Brimley.)
Robert Michael Joseph and Maurice Kelly
Maurice and Ggreg
The SF Quartet at Union Square
Lance Wills, Robert Michael Joseph, Maurice Kelly, and Wilson Hardcastle
Fun period couple
Meet me at the Saint Francis.
More details to follow, but I am headed home for a much needed disco nap now.
Here are some pics from the morning. Professional coverage and wonderful photos are all over the web (just Google News "San Francisco Quake 100" or the like), so I won't bother linking or re-posting anyone else's work here.
RMJ had to abandon the black top hat plan, but still he still managed to craft us some fun headdresses. The idea was that we would all stand out looking for each other at the fountain (as they did 100 years ago) and when we came together we would make "San Francisco." We had lots of photo ops and enjoyed the company of many another costumed reveler. At the time RMJ joined Lance and me (Lance was on time, I of course was not, and RMJ appeared even later), Barney still hadn't left the house. So we forayed without him and stumbled upon RMJ's friend Maurice (wandering with Ggreg at the time), who is always happy to don a costume or a big hat. Especially if there is glitter. We found our fourth.
(I look like a young Wilford Brimley.)
Lance Wills, Robert Michael Joseph, Maurice Kelly, and Wilson Hardcastle
Monday, April 17, 2006
Quake me up before you go go - III
RMJ is now designing theme hats and will be bringing long black formal coats for us all. A little period, a little formal, and a little playful. We shall see.
Some (those who would rain on a parade) have protested these events because one should not celebrate a tragedy. This defining moment, the quake and fire, are not being celebrated, but remembered-- and these events are billed as part of a commemoration.
What we are celebrating is the rebirth of the City, something of which San Francisco should be proud. And I think the logo is brilliant:
SF Rising
Some (those who would rain on a parade) have protested these events because one should not celebrate a tragedy. This defining moment, the quake and fire, are not being celebrated, but remembered-- and these events are billed as part of a commemoration.
What we are celebrating is the rebirth of the City, something of which San Francisco should be proud. And I think the logo is brilliant:
Quake me up before you go go - II
Lordy. I am now meeting Lance at Virgin tomorrow morning at 4:15. It will actually dawn on me. (Get it off me! Get it off me!)
Then I suppose I'll head back here to the office super early. Which is good because I was given several "rush" assignments today which means none of the work I already had and needed to do today didn't get done. Grrrr.
The 1906-2006 Calendar is here. Pretty cool.
Quake me up before you go go.
Tomorrow is the centennial of the Great San Francisco Earthquake and Fire. There will celebrations and rememberances tomorrow morning starting at 4:30 at Lotta's fountain. I plan to join RMJ, Barney, and Lance tomorrow morning for the festivities. As much as I am NOT a morning person, this seems a once-in-a-lifetime event not to be missed. Hopefully, we can all find each other successfully.
Much to read and see at the centennial site. And there is an impressive series of photographs at the US Geological Survey.
See also the extended coverage and commentary from the San Francisco Chronicle.
Bees in my Easter Bonnet
It was a great weekend-- A nice if brief visit with Jan on a Rainy Saturday, interesting evening at the Rodeo benefit "Buckin' Taxes," and a fabulous Easter with James, then James with Scott and Scott, followed by Barney and RMJ, then Tony, and ultimately Sundance and the charming new company of Matt and Jackson. Unfortunately, I'm way too busy to write about any of it now. Lots of big "rush jobs" for a Monday. Easter bunny funnies to follow.
Friday, April 14, 2006
"digital" laser tag
Very, very cool.
This tiny wireless device uses a laser to project a full-sized virtual keyboard for typing with Bluetooth-enabled phones, PDAs, Blackberrys, etc. The device is only 3.5 inches tall and about one inch wide. Your "keystrokes" are also accompanied by a synthtic click sound. I have no practical use for one, but I imagine it will be great for travelers. $180.
C'mon. How freakin' cool is this?
Okay, I am a huge nerd.
From ThinkGeek.
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