work it

Congratulations to my favorite writer on careers and job-seeking for landing a wonderful new job himself1 The CareerBeat blog should continue to be a source of information and inspiration for job seekers everywhere. Overall lesson: it's all about networking.

Or, you know, just working away at your job then someone thinks you're awesome and thinks you should apply for this better job over there even though you've gotten your current job down pat and come in whenever you want and have it pretty sweet even though you're over-burnded half the time but your office with the windows that open and that view of the park and ocean is pretty awesome but no, seriously, they say you should really apply for this promotion into another department and so you say "okay" and then stuff happens.

What's that smell in the air? Oh, it's change. Change is always difficult, but it's growth. Time for a growth spurt. And perhaps a return to maturity. For what that's worth. (Hint: enough.)

Stay tuned for more news.

tell it your way

Via The Daily What, the amazing winning entry into the Philips-sponsored constrained cinema competition “Tell It Your Way.”

Film entries were restricted to six lines of dialogue:
“What is that?”
“It’s a unicorn.”
“Never seen one up close before.”
“Beautiful.”
“Get away, get away.”
“I’m sorry.”

What's the word?

I'll give you a hint: it's not "up."

I've been amused all day by mental floss' list of 15 Wonderful Words with No English Equivalent.

Sure, we've all taken a little guilty glee in schadenfreude from time to time, but how about those days of daze when you indulge in boketto, or when you've marveled at the gumusservi as you looked across the Bay on a clear night?

Boketto is the Japanese word for gazing vacantly into the distance. Gumusservi is the Turk's term for moonlight shining on water. Check out these other mots justes including words for your teeth chattering, for finding someone attractive from behind but not from the front, and the marvelously creepy word for that feeling of your skin crawling when you are walking alone in the woods at night.

My brother Mac will be less heartened, or heart-attack-ened, to learn that the Czechs call it vybafnout (startling someone by jumping out and yelling "boo!"). I used to do this all the time as a kid, even into high school, and stopped only after I quite nearly killed my dad doing it. We simply called it "The Boo Game."

Mac hated the boo game.

Heh heh heh.

flagging support for marriage equality

I had read about the SF/NYC marriage equality solidarity act of flying an official NY flag under the rainbow flag at Harvey Milk Plaza this weekend to celebrate the first day of legal same sex marriages beginning last Sunday in New York.  However, each time I looked up at the flagpole this weekend, no NY flag.  What happened?

Oh, the usual.  The private people, the "Merchants of Upper Market/Castro" or MUMC [corrected], who control the flag in the public plaza screwed up yet again.  It's hard to tell from accounts if this time they were acting like jerks or just incapable of figuring out how to hoist two flags at the same time.  Seriously people, we have cracked the "two flags, one pole" technology.  Also unclear is if the MUMC tyrant president Steve Adam's is continuing to be an active douchenozzle to the community or is just passively useless when it comes to the management of a flagpole.

Seriously, that is a phrase I never thought I would write:  "management of a flagpole."

Honestly, if cub scouts can do this, a board of "business leaders" should be able to.  Sort of speaks to the quality of the businesses and business leaders in the Castro doesn't it?

The MUMC even refused a test tun by the people who proposed the flag and received it from NY state officials to make sure it would work, and then canceled the coast-to-coast collaboration when they couldn't get it done when the time came.

I understand that the MUMC covers the cost of replacing the wind-whipped flag on a regular basis and that is not a small expense, but there has got to be a better, equitable, responsible or even responsive way of managing a damn flagpole.  Evidence and precedent has shown conclusively that the MUMC fails consistently in its responsibility.


UPDATE:   This post has been corrected to accurately indicate it is the MUMC, The Merchants of Upper Market/Castro, who control the flagpole and not the Castro Benefits District as I erroneously noted before.  Apologies for the error.  The current proposal is for the CBD to take over control from the MUMC.

And thanks to the commenter who noted my confusion.

bibliophiles and book/lovers

Book me. Harder.

The San Francisco Public Library is hosting two speed dating nights for Gen-Boomers, one for hetero-seekers (opposite gender) and one for LGBT-seekers (same gender).

In classic speed dating style, you will have five minutes to talk with every participant about your favorite, most loathsome, perplexing or intriguing book and have the opportunity to potentially meet your next sweetheart. Due to space limitations, each event is limited to 36 participants.

I'm imagining opening lines such as, "So, are you a soft cover or are you hard bound?" But I think "So, was your family happy like everyone else's or were you unique in your unhappiness?" is pretty lit hot. Obvious Melville references not so much.  Unless you're on gay night and go there afterward.

Lucky book/lovers may find themselves on a dark and stormy night.

web cam

Personally, I think it's a little soon for a reboot, but as the 2000's Spider-Man films sort of spun out of control and towards Michael Bay Madness, I'm looking forward to a more comic- and pathos-diven Spidey franchise.  That, and Spider-Man was my first comic book hero and my idolatry bordered on obsession as a kid.

Here's the first trailer for next summer's Amazing Spider-Man.

Say "Hello" to my little friend

Okay, I've likely mentioned in my unbiased way how completely awesome my niece Ellen is.  Here she is chilling with some summer reading early morning at the lake.  This is now my desktop picture.




She's cool in the mellow/jazz sort of cool, funny in ways you don't expect, musically talented, ridiculously responsible and charming as all.

And she's a crack shot.  She took the riflery medal last year at Camp Greystone, and has already set the record for this year (47 out of 50 at 50 feet).  I've been trying to send her a letter or card every day while she's at camp but I'm a few days behind.  Friday I received another letter back from her, and she used her high-scoring target as stationery, with her Hello Kitty envelope.




That's a 45 score: a 7, two 9s and two dead-center bulls-eyes. But here's my favorite part: she signs the letter with a cartoon of Hello Kitty with a rifle.




Oh God. LOVE this. I'm calling it, "Hello....Kitty...."

Or perhaps just "Kitty's got a gun..."

This is my new Facebook profile pic:




I think it needs a caption contest.

Going to the Potter?

The excitement over the big finale of the Harry Potter series has clearly risen to a frenzy. Forwarded via Facebook and viral from there:

them's good eatin'

With all of that "life" stuff going I am terribly behind in the home hobbies, particularly pulling together videos or stories from events such as the summer visits with Dad or the Sundance Saloon stage at Pride. This morning I'm sharing a sight we saw en route to the lake with Dad in June. I was driving Mom and Dad down to meet the rest of the family at the Pickwick lake house, and from rural highway 412 (if I recall correctly) I over shot the left turn onto the Natchez Trace Parkway as it came up on a blind curve. I pulled into a new trailers-turned restaurant and camping area driveway about a hundred feet past to turn around. Mom was the first to notice the peculiarity on the sign, and has requested full credit, which is due.



According to the the punctuation on this sign, they serve up fish, steak, shrimp, frogs... and legs. Perhaps they should invest in a box of commas with an ampersand, or invest in public education.

When we stepped out to the nearest "sports bar" Cactus Jacks to watch Vandy play in the College World Series, I snapped this sign for the new business next door.



Not as funny, but still. That's a lot of effort to put in without an proofreader.

verbal vogeuing

Wow. He may be new favorite vlogger when I need a jolt. Sassy, funny super-gay rants on Target, Ke$sha and #NaughtyPlayTitles.

Meet Louis Virtel and Verbal Vogueing - Episode 1: "The Immaculate Conniption"

NSFW, but only for language.



He needs to be at our next MST3K-style dinner and a movie night.

Attention sports fans!

Bradley has a new blog.  Bradley is the sports man.  He had a sports column in the school paper, started the Broadcasters Club at EHS, and was an on-air intern for more than one sports talk radio station in Nashville (also streamed to the interwebs).

Now that he is headed off to TCU, he's got a new sports blog domain:  Brad's Blog About Sports (and other shit).  So far, it's mostly "other shit."  But it promises to be young and funny and probably a little angry, which is also funny.

Enjoy the rough-housing.

Ellen Hardcastle, the Album

So cool. Shout out to awesome niece Ellen for becoming her own sort of internet celebrity!

Sadly, she's at camp now and missing all this online fun!



Happily, she's at camp having all sorts of actual, off-line fun.

Here's the background info from my nephew/Ellen's brother Bradley:

For Christmas, my aunt and uncle gave my sister a raffle ticket for a chance for her name to be the title of  Hank Green's next album. She won.

Ok so, who is Hank Green? Hank Green is one of the most famous vloggers on youtube. How did get famous? He is the brother of bestselling young adult author John Green (above). The two share a youtube channel called vlogbrothers. The channel is this month's 69th most viewed world wide and has 150,000,000 upload views. They refer to their fans as nerdfighters.

milking it for all it's worth

For as many times as I have had to use the phrase "location-based social networking" in conversations I've had recently regarding my little ramble about Grinder and Scruff, I'm thinking there is good "lactation-based social networking" joke in here somewhere.

I sincerely hope that there is no app for that.

YouTube, Copyright, and Fair Use

Important to share, and watch.  Via Laughing Squid:

Fair Use School: A Reply to YouTube’s Copyright School

BY HUGH D'ANDRADE ON JULY 13, 2011

Last April, YouTube came up with a new way to help its users understand copyright law. Alleged infringers would be required to watch Copyright School — a short, humorous clip in which everyone’s favorite cartoon characters, the Happy Tree Friends, explain the finer points of copyright law. That’s all good as far as it goes. But the advocacy group Public Knowledge pointed out that the video tended to gloss over an important question for many YouTube users, and that isfair use. Public Knowledge challenged their members to come up with a response video that explains fair use, and how, in some cases, making use of copyrighted material without permission is perfectly legal. Here’s the winning entry, fromPatrick McKay:

catching crabs in the social net

I am one of those people who actually enjoy using location-based social networking apps.  To an extend.  I won't use Facebook check-in or Gowalla or GayCities or Looped, but I do like FourSquare.  I like playing the game with my friends and "checking in" to places to let my friends know where I am if they want to join the party, or to unlock a local deal.   I will also say that their merit badges, mayorships and competition among friends can be useless fun too.

Now on the gay side of things there is the no holes barred (poor choice of words) location-based and hook-up-friendly app Grinder which crossed the line into mainstream press (and is locked out of NSFW content by Apple's app restrictions.  Boo.) No self-respecting or self-debasing gay man has a smart phone without Grindr.  For those not in the know, You set up a small profile on Grinder and when you launch the app, it lists the other users around you in order of distance, and you can browse their pic and interests and send them a message.

This is the future now of cruising.

I cannot imagine growing up or coming of age in this level of technology and digital social connections.  I'm not even that old and come from a time that we relied on clever looks, codes and finely-honed gaydar to find other members of the community.  Now, as they say, there is an app for that.  While the stated purpose of Grinder is to be a location-based social networking tool, it's pretty much an ad for hookups.  Even though we all fire it up to see who's around with no intention of following through.  Most of the time, it's window shopping.  Of course, those are usually the daylight hours.

The success of Grinder has spawned similar apps, such as Scruff, which is basically Grindr for bears with more features.

I have both apps on my phone and use them.

I feel as if I should be in a circle of strangers whose last names are unknown when I type that.

I do find Grindr and Scruff fascinating though when I travel.  In SF, it's fun to see who's around, who you know, and who you'd like to know.  I have never hooked up on Grindr before, but I have made some virtual and real life friends/acquaintances.  In Nashville it's a little more disturbing as the gay social scene is so much smaller and incestuous.  If you launch the app while in the bar, you see basically the 30 people around you whom you could see face to face if you would just look up from your goddamn smartphone for one fucking second and paid attention to me.  Also, depending on who is looking over your shoulder, you can see not only the 30 other gay guys in the bar who have smartphones, but pretty much any socially active local can tell you the sexual history of any one there pictured.

It's a small community.

Notice I did not say that it's a tight community.  Ahem.

The real value to these apps, I believe is for (1) the traveler and (2) the lost rural soul.  Can you imagine thinking you're the only freaking gay kid in a town of 1,200 in a state where it's 150 miles of lonely road until the next town of only a thousand people?  This app must be a magic lifeline—young men can actually see and chat with other gay guys and not kill themselves in a fit of isolation.

However, when the lonely and desperate gay tweenager whose parent's don't know that that iPod Touch grandma gave him is now filled with gay porn and websites starts chatting up older, skeevy men who are into younger boys, Grinder becomes the windowless van of location-based social networking.  I would advise young guys to chat up other young and/or verifiable guys and be vague about their real name, location etc. at all times.

The other group that gets the most benefit from Grindr/Scruff (I mean other than sluts) is the traveler.  Don't know where to go as a gay guy in this new town?  Want to meet a friend or order in room service?  There's an app for that.  I have found it particularly useful when visiting non-metropolitan areas.  When Grinder was new, I logged in while in Rosemary Beach with the family and desperate for a drink and maybe another gay person to hang out with.  I don't think Grindr had reached it's tipping point yet as all of the guys online where the closeted type who wanted only other gym-toned hard bodies who were "straight acting" and "need to travel" or on the down-low because they were all on vacation too with their wife and kids, and looking for a little "release" away from their regular "buddies" at "home."

Hey Alex, I'm going to pass on the "Self-Loathing" category, even for $200.

Grindr and Scruff are also fun in airports on layovers.  Other guys are cruising online, generally seeking a drink to kill time during multiple hour delays, and checking in at such specific locations such as "Terminal 2, Gate 12."  Then there are the Larry Craigs.  I am not judging.

There are also the boys who may as well be escorts, looking for love and hinting at compensation.  While not a rent boy per se, I was amused by this profile which popped up while I was in the Denver airport on a layover.  He's a young guy who is ripped and clearly knows his value as an accessory to the more established gay man.  You may read this differently, but this read to me as a cocky young gym bunny looking for a little sugar daddy. Albeit a "daddy" under 30. Maybe he just needs some sugar. Although clearly not the sucrose kind, judging by those abs.

This last trip to the lake with the family was the first time any of us had any cell service, much less data service with our iPhones.  This lake house is right where the borders of Mississippi, Tennessee and Alabama come together, and in the middle of friggin' nowhere.   One night it occured to me to launch Grindr and see what the gay scene was like, if there was any, as there was not a "downtown" to speak of for a good half hour (even 45 minutes) in one particular direction.  (By the way, I am counting the nearest liquor store as "downtown" in this case.)

Grindr was HOPPING.  Holy crap was it active.  I logged in once, was amused for a minute or two and turned off the phone.  I launched the app again later and had messages from over a dozen guys.

I have received maybe four messages in SF.

It was fasinating.  There was an underground gay community of sorts out here, and I can't imagine how wonderful it must be not to have to seek each other our in secret bars or parks, or furtive looks across the high school hallway, or the checkout line at the Piggly Wiggly.

Here's the thing though, the vast majority of Grinder users in this area were 18-23.  Of course, you have to be at least 18 to use Grindr so many of them may have been lying about their ages, which is supported by the youthfulness of their photos, clearly taken in their parents' house.  I can't imagine being out to myself in this part of the country much less cruising online at that age.  But I did not come out myself until I was almost 24.  I could not bring myself to respond to a lot of the very young guys who seemed to still be in high school.  I felt very much wash wash wash, can't get clean.  For some of the more plaintive, I would reply with a "Nice to meet you.  I'm here with my family.  I fly back to SF in a couple of days.  Have a nice weekend."  Like Facebook, Grindr can get a little addictive when you start engaging people.  I started checking more frequently whenever we drove out to a new town just to check out the demographics.  Still, the majority of profiles were of guys under 23 or 24 years old.  I did make one friend actually, and we continue to correspond.  He reported that he has a hard time dating there as he is a man's man, looking for a man's man, and most of the men he has managed to meet are into really young guys.  At 37, he is apparently over the hill.  Even with the abs.  I don't get it.

The Scruff profiles were a bit older and almost all exceptionally heavier.  But such is the Scruff demographic.  Now, after all of this rambling, is the inspiration for this post.  I came across this profile as being "near me" when I was in the backwoods of Tennessee/Mississippi and I found it disturbing in all sorts of ways.  When it comes to sexual lifestyles, I say: have at it as long as it doesn't hurt anybody else.  Personally, I am ridiculously vanilla when it comes right down to it, but I have been in the SoMa community long enough to salute and cheer when the freak flag flies.  But this...this one weirded me out.   I wanted to share this profile, name redacted (he uses his first and last name instead of a nickname which astounds me) because, seriously, WTF?!

neighborly

Mayor Gavin's moved out and up to Marin.  His newly renovated house in the neighborhood, just a few doors away from PeeDee in Ashbury Heights, is up for sale.  And reportedly severely reduced considering the economy!  Apparently, it's a bargain at $2.75 million.

eye of the beholder parlor

I love this. My mother just called me from under the dryer at the Beauty Parlor to tell me how much she loved my article on the Swan Ball in this month's Nfocus. Now Nfocus usually comes out on a Friday and Mom has an early hair appointment with her "beauty parlor person" (Mother is of a generation who do not use the words "stylist" or "salon") so she usually gets a fresh copy right as they are delivered and before they run out.

The Beauty Parlor always runs out of Nfocus.

This month it wasn't delivered until Saturday so she had to wait a whole week to pick up an issue from a replenishing delivery.

She "just loved it." But she's my mother so I would expect her to say so. I feel like it wasn't my best work, and in re-reading it, I fear it was a bit repetitive. But Mom said I got high billing so the editors must have liked it too. This was the hardest Swan Ball piece to write—this year's Ball was lovely but largely uninteresting to me. The Late Party is usually good for some goss', but the later Late Party this year was more messy than I could politely scribe.

Now that the July/Swan Ball issue is out, I feel I can post my column from the June/Iroquois Steeplechase issue now. It's up with the other writing samples on my personal Web site.

Maybe it's all the hot air, but I get a warm feeling thinking about all those society ladies under the driers at the Beauty Parlor reading my rambles.

as long I'm laughing about chickens

We might as well make a visit to our favorite chicken-based comic, Savage Chickens!

.

.

That last one is called "First Draft." Love it.

creeptastic

Birthday Girl Gilly Coomes shared this with me a while back and I thought I posted it here, but it looks like not.

Seriously, this 70s ad for Tab cola is just so creepy in its sexist, quiet, gauzed tone. I mean... just... wow. Enjoy the deep uneasy feeling you get watching this.

And then decide if you want to be a "mind sticker."

Bring me the Big Metal Chicken

This has been cracking me and my family up for days.  I can't believe I never came across The Bloggess before.  I love this woman's writing.  I want to write with her.  Or at least drink.

It started with someone sharing this wonderful entry, because I love anything involving comically large chickens and good-natured taunting of loved ones with irrational tempers.

And That's Why You Should Learn to Pick Your Battles

I also love that there was some follow up action, and that all of this spawned greeting cards:

  .

And that a fan even edited a wikipedia entry thusly.

This has inspired me to start getting back to the funny with the blog.  Life and work have sort of kept me down and away from (1) free time for writing and (2) feeling all that silly.  This has also inspired me to put a lot of those overheards, clever bon mots, and calling card lines on Zazzle or Cafe Press and maybe make some dough off of my shenanigans.  The Bloggess hinted in one of her posts that she is going to name her online store "Eight pounds of uncut cocaine" just to make your Visa bill more interesting.  I'm thinking now "pay no attention to this item and move along" or maybe just "barnyard porn."

There are too many big-red-male-chicken puns to choose just one.


Update:
My sister-in-law is losing her eggs over this and I am loving it.

>I am literally CRYING in my office this is so funny. I love this story. This is absolutely, positively HILARIOUS!!

>I can't stop crying. My funny bone has been tickled to its core!! I think I have to order the cards. I hope my credit card bill says eight pounds of uncut cocaine.

Me: Knock, knock, motherfker.

>Because this chicken will cut you! I can so see the whole TJ Max scene. I can't wait for Carrington to read it. We're having dinner with them tomorrow night at their house. I may have to take a metal chicken to hang out with her real chickens.

Me: I can see you totally pulling this on Mac because that's so you, and the going ape-shit over more towels is so him.

>LOL!!! That is so true. Maybe that is why I cried my eyes out reading this. I still can't stop laughing. I love it. It is totally something I would love to do. And if Mac disposed of the chicken, I'd go buy towels...PINK ones.

Me: Oh God. You realize I am buying you all pink towels now, right?

>I will hurt you. If you buy me a big metal chicken on the other hand, I will love you. Especially if you tuck into Mac's side of the bed with a note that says, "turn off the TV mother fcker".

Finally, I LOL'd at a note from my other sister-in-law, who couldn't quite figure it out because she originally misread the title as "And That's Why You Should Learn to Pick Your Batteries."

Land Shark!

Enneagram!

So last night at Mody Dick, HalaBackGirl was trying to explain to me the Enneagram personality system.  She kept saying who was a 1, who was a 2, etc.  She is certain I am 2 ("Feeler") more than a 1 ("Thinker").

Me:  "I think I'm more of a Thinker."
HalaBackGirl: "No, no.  You're more of a Feeler."
Me:  "Well, when I think I'm a Thinker, maybe I just feel that way."

among the things I don't understand

Poppy seed bagels.  I can find no discernible flavor enhancement from the seeds, but significant mess creation.  Do not eat over keyboards.  Also, there is that false-positives on drugs tests thing.  So...why poppy seeds on bagels?

He told me to call him Mr. "Jobs"

I want to make a new t-shirt:

Can you show me on the doll where the iPod Touch'd you?

How quickly would I get sued?

Happy July

Well, not to sound like Madonna or anything, but I've made it through the wilderness; I've made it throo-oooh-oooh.  Meaning, I've just finally digging myself out of the MacBook crash, MacMini crash, Tivo Crash, demolished bathroom, and car window/dashboard/stereo repair and replacement and frankly would like to just sit here and chill for a little bit thank you very much.

But work and life press on and I've cut the social life into about half, and am quite looking forward to staying home tonight attacking the haystack-sized pile of laundry that has been neglected since before my last trip to Nashville.

Speaking of which I've just finished tagging and edited the 400 or so pics I took at the lake and will be working on a new family video for Father's Day.  Then I can start on the 100 pics from Pride and try to hack together a decent Sundance Saloon Pride video too.  This weekend was chock full of pool party and Independence Day silliness, none of which was captured by me on digital film.  I'm selfish that way.

While I continue to click "ignore" on Facebook event invitations to keep both my calendar and mind clear, I can recommend some specifically manly/bear/cowboy events this weekend:  There is the Bears In the Park, The Bear Week Orphans Edition at McLaren Park this Saturday from noon to 5:00 p.m., followed by the Cowboys and Leather Beer Bust at the Edge from 4:00 p.m. to  7:00 p.m., and PAW at Deco starting at 9:00 p.m. and running until 2:00 a.m.  SUnday afternoon is full of family-friendly barbecues and housewarmings, but Sunday evening you might enjoy "Shaft," a beer bust benefitting the boot black community at the Kok Bar (1225 Folsom) running from 5:00 to 9:00 p.m.  Don't forget that Sundance Saloon supper happy fun country dancing time also runs every Sunday evening at Space 550.

Also this week if you can break away from that pesky day job, stop by the Rules Committee Hearing at City Hall at 1:30 this Thursday July 7th to support Glendon Hyde, AKA Anna Conda, as the Community Representative to the San Francisco Entertainment Commission.

For you amusement however, there is this fun link to NPR's feature on amusing misconceptions, my favorite one being "It took me a while to figure out that Art Deco wasn't a person."

And this new phrase to add to your personal lexicon of horrors:  I actually only viscerally dislike only a few people (Republican politicians notwithstanding) and I was invited to a function recently populated with all of them, with one person singled out to be the center of attention.  Good Lord I could not click "decline" on that Evite fast enough.  When another of similar disposition asked me if I could bear going I had to reply that, "That would be like having a root canal... In your eye."

drama queens

Two theatrical productions you should go see:

Tigers Be Still
at the SF Playhouse

While the productions are really hit or miss and generally landing somewhere at the 80% mark, I love the SF Playhouse for its creative use of a small stage and enthusiasm and sometimes surprising absolute excellence of the actors. Tigers Be Still starts a little slow but the actress may work on this as the run continues and start the show with more of a punch. For a one-room set, which serves nicely as an array of other settings, the action of the piece can get pretty dynamic. And the script is pretty funny by itself—but it's this quartet of actors who really make the show a fun time. I'd prefer a bit more pizzaz to the action, but they put on a great above-community-standards performance. Again, laud applause to these actors who really break the limitations of their written roles.

Side note to the SF Playhouse: Seriously? No decription of your show or decent marketing materials on your own website? There's just a PDF press release people have to download. People hate doing that and typically won't. Your website is an easy, cheap and obvious marketing opportunity. If the rest of your marketing is like this it is no wonder you are struggling to survive. It's clearly not the acting or the material (although your return to the Fantastiks was beyond wretched).

Tigers Be Still is a good date night. The SF Playhouse is on Sutter just a few doors east of Powell Street. Show runs 85 minutes with no intermission, so judge your bladder constraints and wine intake accordingly.

Nikita Schoen’s Left-Handed Darling
premiering at the Exit Theater

Foul Play Productions, whose founders are the best of the best of local theatrical talent from writers to producers, is proud to announce this new production to run July 14 through August 13. I don't know anything about this play beyond the blurbs on the web page, but knowing the talent behind Foul Play Productions, I am eager to see what creative underground angst and entertainment they have concocted.

The Exit Theater is the creative home to local theater, is just inside the seedy border of the Tenderloin, but only a block from the Powell Street Muni/BART station at 156 Eddy Street.  While the theater trends to black box, the performances here are nothing but gold.