Groove is in the Heart

Final Words in 2008

2008-12-31T10:06:00.000-08:00

So much for keeping this thing up, but at least I can get one more post in before the clock rolls over again and we start with the resolutions and a New Year.

The festivities have already begun here. Two days ago the shops started selling fireworks and I, of course, went out early and bought my little arsenal. The intermittent booms outside serve only as foreplay for me.

Being here, immersed as I am in German all day long, has caused me to seek out sources of English wherever I can. I get a little CNN in now and then, but my anchor is the NY Times and I follow the news doggedly. It's been a hurricane of a year looking back and honestly, I'm not sure even the eye of the storm is anywhere in sight let alone an end.

I am thinking especially of our soldiers who are serving overseas, the small business owners around the world who are furiously strategizing ways to survive these precarious economic times, and the suffering masses around the world who daily experience a hell on earth we can only try to conceive.

I have so many wishes for the New Year and none of them are for myself. There are too many others in the world who need our wishes. If I have one aspiration for 2009, it would be to quickly and successfully negotiate the end of my pursuit of this B.A. degree, get back out in the workforce and find some avenue to contributing to the improvement of the world.

There are no more borders to speak of: try as many might to erect and maintain them, the demands of our human race place demands on all of us as members of that race to struggle with new vim towards some kind of global unity. There is no more chance for isolation: We can not choose to be alone; neither as individuals nor as nations or even hemispheres; advocacy by those who have for those who have nothing is the only acceptable option. Advocacy can be as simple as having a conversation with someone about current events and as complex as choosing a new direction for one's life.

2009 is not going to be pretty, for anyone, but behind every great crisis lies the potential for great greatness. This above all is what I hope we as a race of humans will work towards this year and all those that follow; a world with less tolerance for war, famine, and human rights abuses and more tolerance for that which we do not understand, that which is different and that which frightens us.

As the clock rolls over, let us embrace each other and make room for one another; there is after all, plenty of room on this Earth if we would only figure out how best to use it.

Peace and love to all.

Tag der deutschen Einheit

2008-10-04T02:31:00.000-07:00

October 3, 1990. The official date of German reunification. These days it is a national holiday here in Germany. Most shops are closed, most restaurants stay open to take advantage of the increased foot traffic. The was a quiet, Sunday afternoon feel to the day. Katja and I checked out an art installation in our neighborhood at Torstrasse 166. It is a "Zwischennutzungsgebäude." Essentially an empty apartment building whose next, more permanent use has not yet been established and so the space was given over to artists, 12 of whom were invited to use one each of the apartments in the building and create an installation. The project is open to the public for a couple of weeks, then the whole thing goes away. Berlin is filled with such projects.

Here are some pix, not very good ones mind you, but a few. My favorite apartment is the one where the artist uses overhead light projectors with tranparencies, invites visiting members of the public to stand somewhere in the room and then he 'draws' them into his piece via the transparency. Once the subject leaves, their light projection self remains and becomes a part of the installation.

Exterior of the Building, Torstrasse 166

This place was a crazy web of black yarn, literally coccooning the entire space except for the narrow walkway that allows access to each room.

Transparency room, the artist worked live

Room of the Rising Sun

So, um, yea... That semester is over, as is the one that followed it

2008-09-17T12:24:00.000-07:00

I am not really committed to beginning to think about possibly starting to perhaps blog/write/journal on any kind of semi-regular basis, however given the sheer volume of change that has gone on in my life of late I somehow remembered that at one time or another I had this forum of one, this referendum on my Self, this little corner of the net in which to deposit my (frequently banal) thoughts.

So, pretty soon I'll have something interesting (or not) to post here, but for now...

Hi from Berlin.

Two Weeks and Out

2007-11-28T13:50:00.001-08:00

Not much time left in the semester. It's been a whirlwind but and I'm glad it's almost over. A learning experience to say the least. UCB is a completely different pond from the CA JC system. I'm looking forward to a month of decompression and then getting a whole, new clean-slate semester to start with. How much information can one person process in two weeks? I'll find out soon enough.

Overweight and Underpaid

2007-06-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

I've been exploring the many facets of the term 'downward spiral' for at least the last year and a half now. I've discovered that it is entirely possible to experience a downward spiral without all the expected and normally incumbent depression. Stress is probably the main culprit for my complete lack of motivation towards any creative endeavor whatsoever. At any rate, here is the nutshell.

The last post on this site is entitled 'Hurricane John' and was written by me in an attempt to get back into writing something with any kind of regularity. Much like this post, I suspect. Since then, among the various house projects (new roof, new fireplace, new windows), trying to finish up at College of Marin so as not to be an uneducated loser (my transfer application to UC Berkeley has been accepted, one more step out of Loser-dome), and working at a job I decided three years ago I didn't want to do anymore (still don't), with any free time that has come my way I've pretty much been content to sit at my desk, play World of Warcraft and eat pizza.

Sexy.

Not to give the impression that the activities involved in the last sentence have been a complete waste of time, here is a screen shot showing my Priest character riding an extremely cool Nether Drake:

Hurricane John

2006-09-06T00:10:00.000-07:00

So I've been about as lazy as it gets with regards to updating this thing. It isn't like there isn't anything interesting going on in my life -- there is all kinds of stuff -- but I found I have this messed up desire to make every post 'significant' when really I should be using it as a vent, as a rant, as an expressive element in life.

Ya. Anyway, I'm flying down to Los Cabos tomorrow morning bright and early to secure the property from looters and vandals and pick up the pieces of the ranch left behind by Hurricane John. The fucker basically made landfall on the ranch. A Category 3 hurricane, with winds in excess of 150 mph, devasted the coastline where the ranch is. No roofs on most of the buildings, some outbuildings simply aren't there any more, but it sounds like the house itself weathered the storm fairly well. I'm mostly concerned about the horse and the sheep, I'm sure they aren't too happy.

We'll know tomorrow. Of course I won't have email (or a modern toilet for that matter) until I get back; but Katja is sending the digital camera down with me so I'll have some shots to post when I get back.

Wish us luck!

Non Monsieur, Pas de Climatisation

2006-07-18T08:26:00.000-07:00

Imagine my indignation at paying - well, someone paid for it, not me necessarily, but it reads better this way - 80 Euros per night for a room in a three-star hotel in France, when the weather outside is -- mmm, warm, I'd say (40C or so, give or take a pint of sweat) -- only to discover upon check-in that, in fact, this recently renovated hotel does not actually boast in-room air conditioning.

As a result of my incredulity I went ahead and did a little research online. It seems the French hospitality industry has overlooked this bit of in-room technology. This oversight seems to be pandemic. On the three largest French language hotel booking websites (expedia.fr, hrs.fr, hotels.fr) you can't even specify Air Conditioning as a search criteria. The hotels that do feature A/C all tend to be 4-star and upward establishments. Granted.

I think my favorite part is the dismissive condescension in the voices of the Concierge personnel from whom I solicit this information. The simple question, "est-ce que les chambres sont climatisée?" has been met with more scoffing and French clearing-of-the-throat sounds than I thought possible. They also don't seem to be so keen to have me book a room with them after hearing the question, a phenomenon I attribute to latent feelings of inadequacy with regards to the hotel itself, because, deep down, they know they should be able to offer rooms in which actual sleep can be accomplished when the temperature outside is over 90F at 11:00p at night. I'd seriously have a better night of sleep in the car, in a parking garage, with the engine and auto A/C on.

It's a good thing all that cheese, baguette, veal and wine tastes so fantastic.

Says It All

2006-05-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

This photo just about sums up the modern Woman-Man interaction. I found this while sorting through some unfiled images on my hard drive. I laughed my ass off for like 2 minutes, but maybe you had to be there (which I was).

Lately

2006-05-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

When is something worth writing about? At what point in a person's interal dialogue do they approach a point at which they say to themselves, "hey, all this stuff you think is just boring crap might actually interest some other people, you should WRITE about it in a place where just anybody could stumble across it." Hence, little pieces of my life wind up as strings of 1's and 0's on other people's screens.

School is almost finished for the semester and I am, to say the least, non-plussed. I'm doing fine but the prospect of having to go back to COM for ANOTHER semester because I didn't take fucking P.E. (what am I, 14?), which is a graduation requirement, is not inviting. We leave for Germany in a month. One of my best friends gets married three days later and I'll be missing that. And the more I think about that the suckier it gets.

We went to Santa Monica two weeks ago to catch the Gregory Colbert exhibit. I covered this just about a year ago in a posting about a quick trip to NYC. Well, the show finally came to the west coast. From here it goes on to Beijing. It was awesome, and so different in construction from the way they had it built in NY. Katja was deeply moved, which I knew she would be, and my Mom jetted up to see the show too which was great. The exhibit closes tomorrow I think, but you can get a taste online at the Ashes and Snow website.

What else is going on? I lost my shit for awhile there but I feel like it's coming back. Nothing like being without one's shit, I can tell you that. I gained 10 pounds in 7.5 weeks. I know how the "Supersize Me" dude felt. So now I hike from my house to the top of Mt. Tam every other morning. I've got my roundtrip time down to 1hr 42min. I make Hannah go with me. The first 3 times she was crazy for it, now though, I think she just thinks I'm crazy. We haul ass all the way up the mountain, then up The Stairwell (a section of the mountain that is very steep and long, like a staircase, only not), and five minutes after we summit I turn around and head back. If a dog could ever look bewildered, it's this one. When we get home I hose her down and give her breakfast and she spends the rest of the day snoozing in the sun on the patio. To paraphrase my father:

"In my next life, I'm coming back as my dog."

Good God, I Forgot My Password

2006-04-06T01:01:00.000-07:00

Holy Cow. Five months since my last post so forgive what will most likely prove to be one of the most narcissistic and self-centered posts ever. Not that anyone even comes to this site any more, I’m sure. I couldn’t even remember what my password is. I don’t know what caused me to come here tonight. Nothing of what is constantly roaming around my mind is anything like something I would want to put down in print. I think about Arthur Dent a lot, and Ford, I sometimes wish I could get lost 2 million years ago on prehistoric Earth for a few years. Grow a beard, put a bone in it, you know, the usual contemplative, catharsis-inducing activities. Waking up some mornings it’s all I can do not to choose madness and start talking to trees; pure will I tell ya.

It’s been five months because for five months there has been little admirable about my life. I’ve behaved badly and paid dearly for it. Maybe I’ve watched Aliens too many times, but I have this constant visual of being sucked out into space, there to die a slow, agonizing, imploding death. Maybe that was just my spirit. Creativity escapes me. Oh, well, creative test taking and job performance, yea, I’ve got those at least. Otherwise I’m shooting blanks right now. Four years ago I was on to something, four years ago I had it all worked out. It was something about exercise, a healthy body leading to a healthy mind leading to a healthy soul. I was on the brink of revelation and somehow missed the mark. I really, really needed to finish that. ‘Now, matters are worse.’

Oh god, what am I bitching about?

Happy Holidays!

2005-12-25T11:23:00.000-08:00

Just a quick post to say I hope everyone is having a fantastic day! Also, to enlist the Lords of Winter to get off their duffs and sprinkle some snow in the mountains already! Everyone do a little snow dance today before heading out! Much love to all, and a Happy New Year!!!

Sweet Site

2005-12-06T08:46:00.000-08:00

Check under the mixes section of Spirit of House, I've got one of these streaming right now and it's mellow and sweet. I stumbled across this while trying to buy the domain URL grooveisintheheart.com but it is already taken by a site that mirrors to this one. I've been looking for a more permanent home for this blog and a buddy in Germany has offered me webspace so all I need is a URL. I'm a little bummed the .com is taken but if it's gotta be, at least it references a site dedicated to the Groove!

Coming soon to a decrepit wall near you

2005-12-05T19:39:00.000-08:00

These are some photos of the project I just finished. It was a collaborative effort with my classmate Jane that involved us touring the shadier areas of SF looking for urban art and then photographing it. We spent a lot of time thinking of that unifying, central theme behind the project until Jane suggested that we just try doing a Burner ourselves. Then the question was whether or not to go out into the cityscape and do it or try it in the less highly illegal confines of my patio. So we designed our own tags and then sprayed a piece of plywood. Here are the results.

I lay down the primer

I make my first stroke and drip all over the place

Wearing our Intel Inside Spacesuits

Crafting

I am pleased with my initial lack of suckiness

I drip some more crafting my C, much cursing ensues

I try some black

Turns out black was a bad idea

Jane discovers the art of masking on the fly

We lay down drop shadow

Almost done...

Jane works with Yellow

Final product, we are now ready to vandalize your house

Whirlwind

2005-11-22T17:24:00.000-08:00

Madness is rife right now. I'm failing math with a solid 55%, a grade I have never before achieved. I should have taken this semester off really. Or done it differently to begin with I guess. This may sound like I'm griping, but it isn't intended so. Between Katja's arrival and the seemingly neverending social calendar, I have somehow slipped back to a place where procrastination is the rule of thumb applied to all obligatory aspects of life, and shameless indulgence is to all those 'extracurricular' opportunities. Ugh. There are fewer than 4 weeks left in which I can get my act together.

I keep experiencing these moments where all I want to do is throw the towel in and go get a real job again. I can't TELL you how many times I've run through that in my head. Fuck a duck. It's like, "if I weren't taking classes then I wouldn't be stressing about classes and homework undone and tests not taken, because these classes (that I wouldn't be taking) would not matter at all to me. So therefore by that argument, these classes (that I am in fact taking) don't matter at all to me (except for Art History of course) because I've somehow tricked myself into a state of mind where, although I am enrolled and do in fact attend most class periods, I'm thinking like I'm not actually 'in school' so nothing I do (or in most cases, don't do) matters."

See what I'm getting at? And I have, conservatively, since this week is a nothing week anyway what with the holiday, two weeks to get my act together, learn the math, take the tests, parli italiano and do an art project with it's roots in urban graffiti culture. So I say it once again:

Fuck a duck.

Buy This Record

2005-11-09T23:19:00.001-08:00

This has been in constant play on the car stereo for like three weeks now. I just can't get over it. Taken as a whole the album is nothing truly spectacular, but it's like when I used to go buy a whole CD just for that one track that made me feel. Well this disc has at least 4 of those tracks for me. I first heard track 1, "Here I Am," with Hendrik on the dance floor at Pink last time Kaskade was in town. It will send you to the outer atmosphere and leave you wondering how you got there and not wanting to come back. I don't think he gets there again until track 7 with "Everything," a cut I know we'll be hearing remixes of from other DJ's in no time.

It's a sensuous journey, not unlike his earlier record "It's you, it's me," but with the elements of further evolution of his personal sound coming through loud and clear. While nothing can replace the experience of a 3 hour live set in a swank club with friendly, enthusiastic groovers around you, this record will at least take you to that feeling of the last time you 'had it good' and at best, transport you to that place where you're dancing by yourself, and the whole world is one big spinning ball of light.

She's Here!

2005-11-06T17:03:00.000-08:00

Through Sunday Driver morons and bad weather traffic I came to SFO on this rainy afternoon. There are always masses of people in the arrivals lounge and today was no different. Thinking I was late I quickly cased the whole lobby looking for Katja but it was apparent she hadn't yet emerged. About 35 minutes later, there she was, waving to me on the preview monitor as she walked out. I quickly moved up to meet her and out she walked, looking radiant and happy. Upon coming home Hannah proceeded to lose her mind for at least 20 minutes. There is really no substitute for canine ecstatic joy. Wilkommen mein schatz, ich freu mich so sehr das du wieder bei mir bist. Ich liebe dich!

Two Fabulous Nights, and a GIITH Anniversary!

2005-11-02T11:15:00.000-08:00

I'm at home again today - dying, I think. After two weeks of non-stop school/work/social I think I burned myself out. My current condition was not without reward, however. One week ago saw the second coming of Kaskade to Pink. It might not be a coincidence, but the last time I danced to this guy's music was LAST halloween when (also as a nerd) I hit DNA with Adrienne and Katja. This event also marks the ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of this silly little blog. I just realized that actually. That's fun.

Thursdays are by far the best night to go out in SF, and this particular Thursday was exceptional. Hendrik and I arrived at the club around 11:15 and were ushered right in. Right away the music was good, JBoogie was warming up the equipment nicely. My very old, very good friend Eric Waisman called me up and said he and his lady friend were in a taxi and on their way. Perfect timing. Around 12:30 Kaskade came on and destroyed the dancefloor, and probably the two neighboring buildings as well. I don't think they've invented an adjective to describe how good this music was. I was sure I hadn't heard anything so wonderful before.

That is, until Saturday night. The unofficial Halloween party night. I met Hendrik at Frantoio for a glass of wine, in costume. Caitlin was just getting off and I think it's safe to say that seeing us was the extra push she needed to motivate, go home, and get in costume. Hendrik and I split and raced into SF to Mighty where Miguel Migs et al were spinning. The line was ridiculous and twenty dollars entry. So we hit Pink. Just walking in was a trip. So many people in costume. And my god, the music, oh my my. To paraphrase Hendrik, Thursday night was awesome, but the music Saturday was enchanting, ethereal and totally off the hook. We had said we would try and make it an early night because he was driving to So. Cal the next morning. No way. It was too good. The floor wasn't too crowded, and our fellow dancers were mostly of the same ilk, there to just cut loose and get down. We met a lot of very friendly people.

Nightlife

2005-10-27T19:08:00.000-07:00

San Francisco, October 14, Amazing night.

The weeks are flying by right now. I find I have little time to take care of the mundane, daily responsibilities. I'm marking time by the fun I'm having and at least once a week I'm having fun! Two weeks ago a bunch of people met for drinks and then headed over to Pink (of course!) It was an evening called The Italian Job. We arrived early and entered to the sounds of the sublime Michele Galliano. There were a few people there but we mostly had the place to ourselves for about 40 minutes, which I love, because it means I'm free to make a fool of myself on the dance floor without fear of injuring anyone! The night just snowballed as more people showed up, and music just kept heating up. Around 1a a few in our group headed out to check out Mighty, but I stayed for a while longer because I just couldn't leave the groove. I was definitely lost in the music. Some period of time later my stomach let me know it was empty and I had thoughts of catching up to the rest of our group... found out Scott was down the street kicking it with Hae Min and so instead we bid her a good night and hit Haight street for some late night Thai Noodle. Then it was home to a hot shower and warm bed with dreams of beats all up in my head.

Pink Foursome

Hae Min and I

Couch!

Scott and Hae Min

The Birthday Boy Buys Us All Drinks

2005-10-26T10:56:00.000-07:00

Scott celebrated his birthday for several days in a row, like a good boy should, and I was lucky (foolish?) enough to kick it with him for two nights. On Saturday Hae Min did the whole surprise cake and so forth at the bar, and we all got to taste her fabulous homemade chocolate souffle. Scott was treating his top shelf like it was his personal liquor cabinent, and most of us were helping him. A little later on the crew from Scott Howard (including Scott Howard) showed up and we all proceeded to get plowed and talk about food.

Then on Tuesday, Scott's actual birthday, a few of us surprised him again at Foreign Cinema where he thought he was getting a quiet dinner for two with Hae Min but instead got us, Fellini's 'Roma' and fucking great meal. That was my second time there in a week (see the previous post with review if you're interested in my take). We had a great time and then hooked up with some other folks across town for Pool and Cigars. All in all a fabulous night of celebrating our friend!

The Night Begins Well

Hard at work

Hae Min shows off her dress

Birthday Boy

Foreign Cinema

So many choices...

Sneaky shot

Are you going to eat ALL those little Creme Brulees?

Fire Sucker

Louis and Scott

Aimee

Being Beautiful is Hard Work

Foreign Cinema

2005-10-22T23:16:00.000-07:00

A few nights ago a friend and I went to Foreign Cinema to check it out. We'd both heard about it and wanted to go and the timing seemed perfect. She had just got back into town from several weeks on the road on a trip that covered NYC, Mallorca and several other european destinations. Consequently we were getting together so she could share her photos and stories. I just love hearing about the adventures other people have. There is a vicarious quality to my interest, but mostly I just love witnessing how a few days or weeks, or even months away from what someone knows can alter their perception. Caitlin's trip was catalytic for her in ways she wasn't expecting and she was positively glowing from her experience.

Despite the fact that we arrived at the restaurant a bit late because she had left her album at home, they seated us outside anyway. By 'outside' I mean this large courtyard that sort of sprawls between several Mission District buildings, is partially covered by clear, plastic tenting, and is littered with heat lamps. On the far wall, a bare, concrete surface, they project the movies they show (using an actual projector, sans reels). It was Fellini's 'Roma' which I hadn't seen, and didn't really see that night either, what with photos and dinner and so on. Dinner. Dinner was great. A true surprise actually considering the 'gimmicky' nature of the idea behind the restaurant. It turned out not to be a gimmick at all. The service was outstanding, our Rumanian server, Vladin, was extremely friendly and attentive and the food was damn good. We started with a bottle of wine and a plate of fresh, local oysters that were heavenly. Next up was an Heirloom Tomato salad with shaved parmesan, some pine nuts and this Basil Coulis that rocked. Our main was a simple halibut filet on a bed of the the most tender Pesto Risotto I've had. I insisted on dessert because they had Chocolate Tiramisu, and it had been awhile for me.

After our leisurely dinner we popped next door to Laszlo, the sister bar to the restaurant, and had an aperitif. Then we zipped round the block to Pink where we met Hendrik and his Polish crew for a drink, dancing and (of course) the best music in the city. After a small fiasco over the photo album (Caitlin left it in the ladies room at the restaurant), I left her in the good hands of some friends across town and headed back to Pink to finish myself off on the dance floor.

_________________________
The restaurant is truly worth checking out. The place is huge, with vast dining possibilities both inside and out. The service is uniformly gracious and personal, from booking a reservation to the table-side service. The food is excellent, delicate and at the same time unpretentious, my favorite kind of cuisine. To boot, Modernism West has a space there, literally right off the outdoor courtyard, and they have a changing exhibit of artists' work. Right now Naomi Kremer has a Canvas/Video Projection installation up that is very interesting and worth seeing in it's own right, even if you can't stay for Dinner and a Movie.

Where To Begin...

2005-10-21T23:36:00.000-07:00

Weeks have passed without a post. Several recent events require coverage however. Life has been too full to even begin discussing everything that has been going on. Between school, work, and a burgeoning social schedule (this isn't complaining BTW) I haven't had any focused moments in which to write.

Two weeks ago saw the coming of perhaps the greatest mezzo soprano of our time, Cecilia Bartoli. I tried to get (affordable) tickets to this event for several weeks without luck. On the day before the performance I was on the phone with three different people trying buy their Craigslist tickets and my mom witnessed all of this. I was just trying to find one ticket for myself since all of my usual cultural pals were either out of town or otherwise commited. My mom asked who I was going to go with if I could get tickets and when I said I was going alone she asked if we could go together. "That would be great!" I said. Then she asked me to call the CalPerfs box office and inquire as to which seats were still available. She wound up treating us both to mezzanine front and center seats.

O M G.

The woman has unbelievable pipes and a stage presence to match. We were eating out of the palm of her hand. The Zurich Orchestra La Scintilla was with her, a chamber sized orchestra arranged in a crescent moon behind her with some interesting additions. There was a lute player, a harpsichordist who also played the chamber organ, and two herald trumpeters. Cecilia herself was dressed in an emerald green gown with a generous train that she paraded on and off stage at every opportunity. It was a gorgeous performance. She sang mostly from her recent projects of 'Opera Proibti' which are mostly short length oratorios. There was a time in Italy when the Vatican has outlawed full length opera. The composers of the time, most notably Handel, Scarlatti and Caldera, instead wrote shorter length pieces called Oratorio which were permitted.

The pieces were singularly beautiful. I'm studying Italian right now (running about a B average, so not wonderful), but even the few weeks of class I've had were instrumental in lending a greater appreciation of her performance. Understanding how the cadence and rhythm of the language works becomes so much more important when listening to Italian opera. My mom and I were both deeply, deeply moved.

After the performance we hooked up with my Art History professor, the illustrious Deborah Loft, and, unable to simply go home, we cruised up to the Clairmont Hotel and had champagne (well, they did, I had scotch) and shared our impressions of the show. It was a gorgeous, late summer evening and I heard Ms. Bartoli's voice in my head for days afterward.

Jazz and Peach Cobbler

2005-09-20T22:00:00.000-07:00

Among the mutually insane schedules everyone I know is keeping these days, some good friends congregated from their various points of origin for one night and day of some of the best Jazz being played anywhere. The Monterey Jazz Festival is an annual event of epic musical proportions; one I've heard about almost every year since I was 11 but had never been to. At Katrina's kind invitation, an auspicious surplus of grounds passes, and an agreement that I would eat as much Peach Cobbler as was sent my way, I was able to attend this years festival.

The drive down the peninsula was gorgeous, anyone who was outside in Northern California that weekend will agree that it was some of the finest weather all year. I spent Friday hanging out with my sister at her digs in Santa Cruz, which was awesome. Then after a tasty breakfast I jumped in the little red convertible and shot down the 1 to Monterey. Everyone else was just ponying up to go over when I got there and I hastily dumped my stuff and joined them.

The first act we saw was a young guy named Matthew Bourne, a Brit with a very -- interesting musical style. I wish his website had some links to some of his music because there really is no good way to verbally explain it. What he does is blend the use of a sampler and his piano, looping selected portions of film, books on tape, music from Pinocchio and others as a source for the 'sample' that he then dissects on the piano. In effect he reduces the sample to it's emotional touchstones and then riffs on that, sometimes going to the extreme mellow, sometimes to the extreme outrageous. It was a disturbing and uncomfortable performance to sit through, which we in fact did not, but it was also a glimpse at one musician's take on the true essence of what Jazz is about. I requested a copy of his demo/promo CD from the website and hopefully that'll lend itself to these scant words.

Walking out of that, Katrina and I re-joined Alex and Vanessa outside and saw some killer Blues being laid out. As one of my witty companions put it, "After listening to that even Britney Spears would sound sweet." The day held yet more pleasures. We sat in on a fascinating talk with Branford Marsalis about the condition of the Jazz world, the relationships between established musicians and the young up-and-comers, and the relationship between Jazz and the ever-present commercial consumerism. The man had some wonderful things to say, and some moving things to share, and some things that he just wasn't at all hesitant to get off his chest.

Dinner was also an affair to remember. I think we spent almost as much time trying to decide what to eat as we did taking in all the jazz. There were just too many good choices. And the cobbler, oh the cobbler. It was a heads-up comparison between two competing booths. One had great cobbler and the other had great ice cream. I was STUFFED.

Back to the music. We saw The Army Blues, Mavis Staples, the Miguel Zenon Quartet, The John Scofield Band and more. Katrina and I were able to snag two single seats in a full house for the first set with Joey Calderazzo and his trio, bassist Eric Revis and drummer Jeff 'Tain' Watts, both of whom play in Branford's quartet along with Joey. It was a moving performance. Midway through Joey called their friend and colleague, the jazz musician Michael Brecker, at his hospital room back east where he is awaiting a bone marrow procedure (info here). He had told him he wanted to play a song he wrote for him to his Voicemail and that, so he wouldn't disturb him because of the time difference, he should leave his phone off. Except that Michael answered the phone and surprised Joey. They talked for a few moments before he set the phone down on the piano and they played one of the most beautiful straight-ahead jazz compositions I've heard in awhile. It was short, simple and very, very deep.

After that Vanessa and I hustled over to the arena where we did a little arena pass switcheroo with Warren so we could catch the last twenty minutes of (drum roll please) TONY BENNETT. Holy cow. What a showman, what pipes that man has. The last of the truly great big band voices and he was fantastic. I could have gone home happy right then. Instead we accosted a couple of early departees for their arena passes (right in front of Clint Eastwood I might add), and then, since we could all go in now, watched Mavis Staples sing her lungs out with the John Scofield Band, and then we wandered home.

Back at the motel, wine was drunk, cheese and fruit consumed, and laughs were had. I woke up bright and early and had to wait until 9a for the spa to open, then I spent a very relaxing hour reading and cooking myself in the hot tub and the sauna.

Mmmmmm.

Elephants!

2005-09-13T21:47:00.000-07:00

I drove the motorhome on a GM Goodwrench TV commercial shoot up to Grass Valley for two days. I'd never been to Grass Valley before, it's quite a charming little town. And these two elephants were certainly the largest quadrupeds to ever walk their streets. Incidentally, if anyone was curious what the going day-rate for two adult African elephants, their wranglers, and food and transportation might be it'll run you around 5500.00, which, pound for pound, is a helluva deal if you ask me.

Oh yeah, not having anticipated seeing something photo worthy, these are all taken with my camera phone, so please excuse the poor quality. Still, I think you'll agree, they are discernably elephants.

Eight tons of fun

With a wrangler

Songs to Wear Pants To

2005-09-09T19:45:00.000-07:00

Mom's birthday coming up? Your two month anniversary is just around the corner? What better way to say "I love you" than with a custom written song. Check out what these satisfied customers ordered:

"If you could help me out with something that would be great. I really like this girl, but I don't know how to express it. If you could write a song about her with her beautiful light blue eyes, long brown hair, and great athletic body, that would be awesome."
Song About a Girl

"I need a muzak/elevator music version of the Village People's song YMCA for use in a play I'm sound designing. The characters enter a gay Denny's restaurant and this would be funny in the background."
Muzak YMCA

Back in the U.S.A., What the hell is going on around here?

2005-09-07T20:29:00.000-07:00

I'm back in the states and have been for three weeks. In those three weeks I haven't blogged a thing due to one thing or another. School, work, seeing old friends who were visiting. I've been enjoying the weather, trying to re-assimilate to life here, and hanging out with my dog.

It's been weird not writing, but also it kinda became easier and easier not to do as the days passed. I had every intention of doing a huge photo post, and an update about my thoughts on the end of the trip and on the summer in general, but all of that just seemed too self-centered given the state of affairs elsewhere in our country. I've also, like many of you I'm sure, been absolutely fixated on what is going on In LA and the Southlands. The hurricane has damaged a hell of a lot more than just cities, towns and homes. More lives have been lost as a result of the hurricane and the mismanagement of the aftermath than have happened since the SF earthquake in 1906 in which about 6000 people were killed.

There is a vast amount of information that has to be sifted through in order to find what is really going on. Fortunately there are several people I know who already spend much of their time scouring the news and media sources. These are a few links to some of the most moving/startling/outrageous information available.

Interview with Ray Nagin, Mayor of New Orleans

FEMA Daily Stupidity

Site that cites ONLY verifiable sources, pretty balanced coverage

This is just a few, I don't have time to put everything here but if you're interested, Rick Abruzzo has put together a pretty comprehensive collection of resources and I can email it to you upon request.

On another note, I plan to start writing as often as possible again, so the blog will be updated as necessary. I've been periodically checking my own blog in the last few weeks to see if someone had posted something new unbeknownst to me... I know how that sounds, but hey, it could've happened. At any rate I'm back online now.

NO SOLICITING

2005-08-12T19:08:00.000-07:00

I think my blog just got drive-by'ed. Two separate bots left comments advertising their own products/services on my blog. So I will now be looking for a way to delete comments, something I have been unable to do so far. I hate spam, I hate telemarketers, I even hate my own cell phone company because they won't leave me alone.

Go screw with someone else's blog.

Any Last Words?

2005-08-10T14:36:00.000-07:00

I admit I'm looking forward to being in the sun again -- the weather has been almost miserable here the last four or five days, despite which I have a tan from our little trip to the Baltic Sea. This trip was only two months long and my last two times here were each just over three months. Two months feels like a much shorter time than three, and I'm not really ready to leave. K and I went out to dinner with the family tonight to this new, great steakhouse in town. It was a great meal and a wonderful way to spend my last evening here. Afterwards we walked down the street to Unicum so I could say goodbye to a few friends. That was hard -- I've never been very good at goodbye.

So, as my flight is at 7:30a tomorrow morning, and we have to get up at the ungodly hour of 4:00a just to get to the airport on time, I will cut this short with a few last words in the style of our dear Dumbledore:

Flabbergast, Ausgezeichnet, Lascivious and Quietsch.

See you in a day or so, CA.

Backstroke of the West

2005-08-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

For those of you who, like me, simultaneously love and abhor "Star Wars" and the lumbering behemoth it has become, this will make you laff: Backstroke of the West

Coming does it as literary blurbing (link fun!) of BlogGirl Jenne (you thanks)!

Recently Read, Vol. 2 - J.K. Rowling 4 Prez!

2005-08-01T01:45:00.000-07:00

With so much 'free' time on my hands these days, I've read everything that has come through my hands. I've devoured 6 books in the last 6 weeks. While I am including reviews of all the books, plus a recommendation from Andrea, this edition is dedicated to Harry Potter's latest adventures. After having waited nearly two years for this latest book, it was all I could do to make is last a full week... I ate it.

The little images link to reviews of the books that are more complete (and probably more well written too).

Recently Read, Vol. 2

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling
For those of you (obviously not TRUE fans) who haven't yet read this book, this is not a spoiler. I give nothing away. Rowling has finally released her sixth book in the Harry Potter series and it is a humdinger. Given to me as a birthday gift by Katja, Rowlings latest book is more mature in delivery and subject matter than the previous five books. 'Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince' takes our hero and his friends into new adventures where every main character has a critical stake in the outcome of events. Rowling herself has touted this book as her 'best and favorite book since writing 'Prisoner of Azkaban.' She answers a few questions we've had for a long time while at the same time enticing us into breathless anticipation of the seventh and final chapter by weaving new questions and concerns into the ever more complex tale of Harry and the Wizarding World. The true nature of several characters are revealed for all to see, and the mettle of Harry and a few former DA members is tested once again. I think my favorite part of reading these books outside of the stories themselves is walking around seeing kids engrosseed in the HP story everywhere; in parks, on the bus, and in the S-Bahn, sitting next to adults who have their noses buried in Harry's latest struggles. Having finished every last english book I could lay my hands on, and only having 11 days left here, I just started it again.

Blink, Malcolm Gladwell
Having run through the two books I brought with me from the states within the first couple of weeks, I found myself digging through the small, but diverse English section of our local bookstore. As Gladwell describes in his introduction, for some reason the cover, title and 'look' of this book grabbed me. I read the first page of the intro and bought it right away. As psychology survey books go, it is light on the clinical evidence and heavy on the practical application of said findings. Gladwell (a staff-writer for New Yorker magazine) fluidly writes about how we as humans make, essentially, two kinds of decisions. There are the choices that we consciously make (and 'think over,' sometimes incessantly/obsessively), and then there are the decisions that our subconscious makes for us. He describes the rapid decision-making process using real world stories and interviews coupled with clinical (and sometimes unorthodox) research findings in a way that illustrates just how complex our subconscious, instantaneous analysis of people and situations is. Even before I finished this book I found myself becoming more aware of when I was 'thin slicing.' It is well written and the subject matter is frankly fascinating.

The Book of Salt, Monique Truong
Set in the 1930s, this is the story of Binh, a Vietnamese cook who grew up in Indochine during the height of French colonialism. The story follows him from his days of training and tryst in the kitchen of the governor General of French Indochina to his years of service as the chef in the Paris home of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. Binh's search for a way to transcend his ethnicity in the eyes of the men he meets and find love is set on a Parisian stage similar in flavor to that found in Orwell's 'Down and Out in Paris and London.' Along the way we experience his affection/tolerance of Stein and Toklas, as well as his impressions of a young Ho Chi Minh, whom he meets on a bridge one night in Paris. This is Monique Truong's first novel.

A Cook's Tour, Anthony Bourdain
Recommended to me by Scott, I 'ate' this book and it was delicious. Bourdain takes us for a ride of a different kind this time around. We follow him as he searches the planet for the 'perfect' meal. In contrast to the crass but entertaining tone of the writing in 'Kitchen Confidential,' Bourdain delivers a mature, well-written account of some of the most exotic destinations for cuisine (and just about everything else) I've ever imagined. Not to disappoint lovers of his first book, this one is filled with passages that are distinctly Bourdain-ian: " Suddenly and without warning, one of the men stepped around and, with the beast's nether regions regrettably all to apparent, plunged his bare hand up to the elbow in the pig's rectum, them removed it, holding a fistful of steaming pig shit - which he flung, unceremoniously, to the ground with a loud splat - just before repeating the process." Despite such passages, this book will leave you hungry, and willing to try foods you might previously have vehemently avoided.

The Devil that Danced on the Water, Aminatta Forna
I just finished this and I'm still trying to get my head around it. Aminatta Forna, daughter of Mohammed Forna, the former minister of finance in Sierra Leone, has written this account of the events of her family's life through the upheaval that has encased Sierra Leone. In 1974 Mohammed Forna was found guilty of treason, for attemped assassination of the president of Sierra Leone, and subsequently hanged. The history of this event, and those leading up to it, as the 'world-at-large' understands it would seem to be far different than the truth of what happened. Forna pulls no punches in her description of the ruthless inhumanity which rolls through her country of birth, leaving death, destruction, and corruption in it's wake. I admit I do not know much about the history of many of the African nations, nor can I claim to understand the complexity of this history and the effects it has had on today's African population, but this book goes far to give a visceral and accurate account of some of the things that have gone on and continue to happen in Sierra Leone.

Tuesdays With Morrie, Mitch Albom
I have wanted to read this for awhile now, and the bookstore in Neuruppin just happened to have a copy. A quick read, this book left me thinking about loved ones whom I haven't seen in awhile, and contemplating my own passage of time and mortality. To quote the cover: "An old man, a young man, and life's greatest lesson."

Recommended by Andrea

Peace Like a River, Leif Enger
I loved The Kite Runner, and Bel Canto.... you should also read Peace Like a River... the quote on the cover from the SF Chron says "This book reminds us of why we read fiction." the best book i've read in years, and i didn't even know that the author is from two towns over from Alexandria MN until after i'd read it (Osakis, home the famous Trixie's).... here is what i shamelessly stole off of amazon.com.

Pastoral, Idyllic even

2005-07-27T12:26:00.000-07:00

I had thought to give a daily update on our progress here, and there are two reasons I haven't done that. The first is, I don't know how to take photos very well and Katja has been under the weather for the past day and half, so there isn't much good photographic evidence of our hard work. The second reason is that we have been so damn busy with this painting project that by the end of the days I've been too pooped to write. Today however, we finished the major push we wanted to get done. The living room/dining room area, the stairway and the upstairs landing walls have all received the first coat of the shade chosen by Sheila; and it looks damn good.

Yesterday we bought new rollers and some other goodies and the new rollers turned out to be really good so most of the work we did today will stand and we'll only need to go over some patches where the white base still comes through a little. On the whole, all four of us, who all worked a good 7 hour day, are very pleased with the results of our efforts. We had a lovely light meal of roasted Salmon and fresh beans, and I've had a couple of Chimays (which are damn cheap here... why are they 7 dollars a bottle by us?) and it's still 75F outside (9:30p). And so, I write.

The paint shop screwed up the tint order and we had to take it back and wait a day. So yesterday, instead of doing what we did today, I covered the upstairs area with a second coat of base in an attempt to further conceal the hideous orange that you see in the shot of the staircase; believe me, it is/was much worse in person. Katja and I also had a chance to wander through Fontenay-le-comte yesterday. We saw the church (Romanesque, early 15th c., crypt built in 11th c. on remnants of Roman temple), and made our way through the charming streets, admiring the surprisingly well preserved architecture. After our short afternoon walk we described what we saw to my folks and apparently we've seen more of their new surroundings than they have. New homeownership = more damn work than anyone can be prepared for.

Life here is pastoral. There are chickens across the street who politely wait until half-past eight every morning to remind the neighborhood of their presence. An old woman cruises the neighborhood each evening, selecting the best of each yard's fruits and berries as she goes -- you can almost set your watch to her walk. An owl has taken up residence nearby and hoots his presence nightly and in fact throughout the day as well. Some frogs have just started in on a good croak, and, as this is the countryside, there are the ever-present flies. Truly idyllic. Arthur Dent would certainly love to settle down here if weren't for all the Frenchies he'd have to deal with. And the complete lack of good English tea - outside of my parents home that is.

KG Photography

PC Photography

In which, I learn why the Vendee has this green algae problem

Park

Chateau, overlooking the park

I guess they don't need electricity any further than that

In which, I buy some melons

Through the kitchen window, I

Through the kitchen window, II

Dad, contemplating wall

Stairway and hideous orange

In which, I take a break from that damn wall

Sheila, pleased with her color choice

Dad, stoked that we're done for the day

Katja, and Dad, noticing he missed a spot there

A (mostly) finished product (remnants of horrid orange around door frame)

Our room, Sheila's wreath arrangement

Katja, post shower

Hallway to Master BR

KG Photography

Auzay is Okay!

2005-07-24T08:47:00.000-07:00

Despite the fact that this little village has a tiny population and the extent of the nightlife is limited to the restaurant/bar down the street, my folks were still able to get a DSL connection hooked up and so I am able to give you the breaking news and a few photographs too. This place is really cool, the house dates from the late 17th century and much of the exterior construction is original. The structure is large block stonework, with timbered beams and floors. Of the total property area (which is substantial), about 135 sq. meters has been renovated within the last century.

The village is called Auzay in the arrondissement Fontenay-le-Comte, the closest large towns that you've probably heard of are La Rochelle and Nantes. Last night we had a light meal of local foods. Moules Mariniere, Steamed prawns, fresh baked local bread and a local Chenin Blanc that was exquisite. It's good to be home. The house is in beautiful condition but there is quite a bit of work to be done. I spent the morning sanding down this hideous orange-colored, sponged on paint job that the previous owners were somehow proud of. I also plastered in some gaps along the wall of the stairs in preparation for the big paint job we're going to do in the next couple of days.

The view out of our bedroom is gorgeous and the surrounding countryside is lovely. Local fruits and vegetables have so far been excellent, and we're having a pork tenderloin tonight. I'm currently sipping the second selection of local Chenin Blanc and it is just as good as the last... both are available locally for around 2.30 euros the bottle. Yum. The folks look good, pretty relaxed, all things considered, and being here is reassuring for me. I admit I had my reservations about their decision to move here, not that I voiced them at the time. Now though, I've seen what they've created for themselves here and it is great. A grand adventure and inspiring to say the least. More photos will come as we work the house over this week. I really wish I had a month or two to give them here. They could use the help and it would be a lot of fun to be involved in the renovation of this place.

View of the Garage and through the front gate

Au Revoir (Encore fois)

2005-07-22T17:32:00.000-07:00

So, we're flying to Paris tomorrow to catch a train out to La Rochelle which is about twenty minutes from where my dad and Sheila now live. This'll be the first visit they will have had from family... actually, not counting curious neighbors, probably their first house guests altogether. Our booking number for the e-ticket doesn't seem to be working for online check-in or even just to check the booking, and we never received our train tickets in the mail because my name isn't on the mail box and I guess CHOW is just too alien a name to deliver to around here so they probably sent our tickets back to SNCF.... no matter, we're hoping for a reissue at the station based on our reservation number.

Wish us luck, new posts to come in a week including volume two of Recently Read, which will also include a (not revealing) review of the newest Harry Potter, which I finished today (waaa!)

In the meantime, here are some pix of me playing tennis (or trying to anyway) with my friend Olaf.

Graceful, no?

That just ain't pretty

Klay Kourt Kung Fu

und Schwupps!

I was a ballerina in my last life

SFX people, SFX

We got rained out in the end

Rock Steady Baby

2005-07-15T02:05:00.000-07:00

The summer here has been, to say the least, whimsical. The last few days we've been drowning in some of the wettest weather I've seen in a while. The whole environment is just cracking up. Parts of the Spanish countryside outside of Barcelona are burning uncontrollably while hurricanes and typhoons of hitherto unseen gravity are simultaneously pummeling coastlines in Asia and North America.

Last week, however, was very nice. Katja read about this Reggae concert in Berlin on Monday night and we decided it was a good excuse to go in. Plus I was still enjoying my birthday week (apparently I get a whole week to celebrate a single day I usually forget altogether). We met up with our friends Nicole and Dirk who live together in Friedrichshain and were so kind as to put us up for the night... and the next one as it turns out. Katja and I spent the afternoon shopping, in fact the next two afternoons were also spent shopping, but more on that later. Around 17:30 we hooked up with Nicole and Dirk and had some cocktails at this lounge, then went down the street and (thoroughly tipsy) had a killer Indian meal.

The concert started at 21:00 but we were late because dinner was so good and neither of us wanted to rush away from good food and good company. We crossed town by tram and then walked down to the Kulturbrauerei which is this cool, brick construction industrial park that has an enormous central space that is open air. The buildings all around it are populated with bars and lounges, stage venues and breweries. The concert was in one of these, but there was lots of other live music both inside and outside going on -- and people, people, people everywhere.

Gregory Isaacs was the headliner, but Barrington Levy was also there and so was Black Uhuru. We had missed Barrington because we wanted to finish dinner leisurely, but that was okay because we've already seen him once in Santa Cruz with Adrienne. The music was great, dancehall, rock steady... and then Gregory came out and just rocked the house. I finally got my cell phone working over here and I was able to ring Adrienne back in CA. I held the phone up for her so she could check the music out too.

After the show we desperately needed liquids and found this cool bar that had an experimental music group playing. Really mellow, a perfect spot for us to come down after a pretty raucous show. I had ginger ale.

We stayed at Nicole's place that night and got up and out around midday to go shopping (some more). I shop in earnest (and by shop I mean actually have an objective to purchase stuff) only a few times a year and I have to say we did damn well. I LOVE H&M. New pants, shorts, shirts, this killer white sport coat that was on sale and a steal... I admit I had a great time. Katja is a great shopper and found some rocking good deals too. We came back to Neuruppin three days after having left, overloaded with new clothes and our wallets substantially lighter.

Later that day we decided that we just weren't ready to head home and Nicole had offered us her room for as many nights as we wanted so we called up Jessi and the three of us met her at her place then headed down to this riverside lounge to enjoy the evening and a couple of drinks. This place was really on the river... replete with floating 'docks' that were haphazardly tied together and uniformly unsteady to walk on; but a gas nonetheless. Dig the pix.

Nicole and Dirk, one drink in

Katja and I, at least one drink in

Dirk, off the wall

Nicole and Dirk, two drinks in

Nicole, waiting for Samosas

River lounge

Fall in! Fall in!

We sat on the steps

Interesting wall behind you, don't you think?

Ruf mich auf mein handy!

Jessi and Nicole

Tripod-less...

Rock Steady Baby

The France Epic: Last Blast

2005-07-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

Today, after days of rain and miserable weather, was beautiful. We got up late after a great night of dancing and spent the middle part of the day sunbathing and reading in the garden. Then around 2p Katja's dad, Bernd, stoked up the grill and we had an afternoon BBQ German style... beer is used to baste anything and everything that goes on the grill and all the goods come off of it so tender and juicy... mmmmm. Now I figure it's time to put France to bed and finish off the photo post. All the photos in this post either didn't make the cut for any previous posts or just didn't fit in anywhere else. Click thumbs for larger pix and Enjoy!

Best photo of the trip, taken w/o tripod

A chocolate fountain, Katja got in trouble for taking this picture

KG Photography

KG Photography

Sacre Coeur

First Lunch in Paris

Me, intent on club sandwich

Katja, sated

Metro

Famous Paris 'Lips'

KG Photography, Place de la Furstemburg

KG Photography

Flower store, Place de la Furstemburg

Us, Place de la Furstemburg

Katja and Eiffel Tower

Fountain at Chaillot, a.k.a. Public Baths (SO hot that day)

Fountain

Me at the fountain

They're setting up for Xtreme Sport!

Musee d'Orsay

Clock in the Musee d'Orsay

I was fascinated by this piece

Rodin

Bastille

Eiffel Tower light show

Storm clouds running away from Paris after kicking it's ass

Recently Read, Vol. 1 - Jane's Picks

2005-07-09T23:39:00.000-07:00

I'm calling this first edition 'Jane's Picks' because she recommended all the books in this post to me. This is sort of a two-fold post. The first thing I wanted to do was get in the habit of posting about books I read. I've acquired the habit (again) of going into a book store and just buying something that looks good or that the storekeeper recommends. I hit up the First Street Bookstore across from COM, next to the Pacific Cafe like 8 times last semester; and while the books aren't priced like amazon or even B&N in Corte Madera, there are only a couple of women who work there and all they do is read and sell books (by the looks of it...) so far everything I've picked up there has been interesting.

Additionally, I source books to read from friends. In that respect the second intention of this post is to (hopefully) start a dialogue about what good books are out there... and get the sharing process going. I think before now would have been too early as there were, like, maybe 2.5 people who even knew about this site but based on the stats, emails and comments I have been getting it looks like a few people tune in with some regularity... so let me please encourage you to leave any kind of comments you like, start your own blog (please send me the address so I can link to it...), and/or share your Good Book finds as comments and I'll include them in future posts.

The little images link to reviews of the books that are more complete (and probably more well written too), mostly NY Times book reviews.

Recently Read, Vol.1

The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini
Jane and I started trading books about 7 months ago and I've found she has literary tastes similar to mine. This was a great recommendation, especially since it was the first new piece of fiction I'd read in awhile. Amir, the son of a wealthy man, and Hassan, the son of Amir's father's serving man, are best friends, nearly the same age and who grew up together. The story tracks Amir's life as an Afghani immigrant to America after the Taliban have taken control of his home country. The characters are so well written and it reads so much like a memoir I forgot it was a novel at times. The subject matter is also timely considering current events.

Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China, Jung Chang
This fantastic, multi-generational memoir documents the history of a family in China. The perspective spans three generations of women and tracks the lives and destinies of family members living through the protean social and political upheaval of China from the invasion and occupation of Manchuria by Japan, to the battle for control between the Kuomintang and the Communists. Fascinating.

Bel Canto, Ann Patchett
An unidentified South American country invites Mr. Hosokawa, the head of a powerful Japanese manufacturing company, to celebrate his birthday at the Vice President's house. Having declined the invitation initially, Mr. Hosokawa finally accepts because the host government has arranged for the world-famous opera star, Roxane Coss, and Mr. Hosokawa's favorite voice, to sing several pieces at the party. Ms. Coss has just finished her performance when all the lights go out and the house and all the guests therein are taken hostage. The story tracks the weeks and months of a hostage situation in which relationships and perspectives are redefined by the bizarre nature of the circumstances everyone finds themselves sharing. A wonderful read that draws you in quickly.

Telling Secrets

2005-07-08T16:19:00.000-07:00

There is another (and hopefully, the last) big photo blast coming in the next day or so that'll have the rest of the pix from France.... plus some closing thoughts, in the meantime I ran across this site while blog surfing....

Postsecret

If explored a little, there is some intense human-ness to be had...

_____________
* my secret is i've always wanted to be the extra member of the away team, even if I die first

Berfday!

2005-07-06T15:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm 27 today. I woke up to a good German style breakfast that Katja's mom, Karin, had prepared. I opened my presents from her too... a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon and a box of Pralines... everything a guy needs on his birthday... booze and chocolate!

Around 11:15a Stoeps rolled up in the Audi A8 he is borrowing for a few days (I got to drive it for like 3 hours a couple of days ago... that mother MOVES), and the three of us picked up Toli and then drove into Berlin for an afternoon at the climbing gym. It was a rainy kind of day so this was a perfect activity. Around 5:30 we were pretty much burned out. Incidentally this was my first day climbing in many, many months. Oof.

We zipped round the corner to a little Mexican joint that the boys knew of. It is run by actual Mexicans so the salsa was great, they had XX Amber, and the burrito I had was good too. After gorging ourselves we headed back to Neuruppin at 220 kph. That's freaking fast. And not legal. Not even on the Autobahn.

A8, accept no substitutes. Except maybe the S8, now there is a car I want to drive someday.

At any rate we rented a film, but never got to it. We're both pooped and I'm hitting the sack now. A year older, hopefully wiser, certainly achier, and undoubtedly hungry for more. Love to all!

The France Epic: Gay Paris

2005-07-06T01:08:00.000-07:00

On our last day in Paris I wanted to squeeze in one more museum... the little house on La Place de Furstembourg is one of the places Delacroix is known to have lived in Paris and it houses a lovely collection of both his own works - some of which are on loan from the Louvre - and works from his own collection by artist-peers of his time. It is a small affair, needing no more than two hours to get through completely, and it was a great way for me to round out my art-hungry appetite.

Afterwards I met up with K, who had been working with her camera nearby. We bought some lovely prosciutto-like meat, some cheese, fresh bread and fruits and walked down to the Seine and had lunch together. I really like sitting by the Seine in that area, because all the those enormous tour boats slow down to almost a stand-still so that the hordes on board can have a three minute view of one side of Notre Dame (albeit a very good side of it...) before moving on. They're like bugs in glass containers. My favorite boats are the dinner boats, with their hokey French dinner music quartets. They come right up alongside us and park for awhile and we get to just sit there, drinking our beer and looking them over in their little glass case.

Picture Perfect Evening

Anyway we took the Metro back to Maubert to get ready for dinner with Deborah (see below for details of that meal...). As we were coming out at our metro stop we were hit by pounding bass vibrations. They had closed Blvd. St. Germain for the Annual Gay Pride parade.

Um, yea, I'm from San Francisco, I've been to the Castro numerous times both during and not during the Halloween festival there, and, um yea... they're pretty gay here in Paris. We had a dinner date to get ready for but couldn't do anything except stand there mesmerized by the procession of open, flat-bed cargo trucks that had been converted into themed, traveling dance floors. One after the other passed us by. More than just a gay pride event, there were people from every walk of life celebrating and dancing in the streets. Twas cool.

Someone here must have ordered the beef

Indochine Reprazent!

When in Roma...

...and proud of it too

Again, you will find me in the gym

I think these guys were my favorite

Gay, as in happy

The France Epic: Serendipity

2005-07-05T15:14:00.000-07:00

Not only was France in full bloom with better weather overall than one could ever hope for, but two very special people were also traveling in France at the same time as Katja and myself. Deborah Loft, my Art History professor and the person responsible for my voracious interest in art and art history, was also in Paris. Read 'Je dois me coucher' for details of our evenings together; and here are a few pix from the jazz club we went to that I tried to snap with my silly cell cam.

A smoke-free jazz bar in Paris... whodathunkit?

Also traveling in France, but further south, was my dear friend Jane, and her husband Bob. While we were burning up in Paris they were roasting merrily down in Provence, exploring such outstanding destinations as Aix and the surrounding countryside. Jane and Bob invited Katja and I to have a delicious lunch with them at Michel's in Villefranche-sur-mer, a fantastic restaurant that serves up whole roasted, absolutely fresh local fish alongside tasty house-label wines.

I can't really express how much fun and how good it feels to have been able to meet up with these friends. It really rounded out what was an already outstanding vacation. It was like experiencing all the excitement of unknown newness and yet still having an element of familiarity about it.

The France Epic: Paris Never Sleeps

2005-07-05T12:59:00.000-07:00

As they say here in Brandenburg, "Jetzt kommt es!" Meaning, essentially, here it comes at last. Be warned that this post and the next are loaded with photos and little story snippets. Mostly photos though. Katja has become a real photobug, and I find many of her shots to be really good. She has a particularly good eye for light, moments and angles. Hopefully you will all find her work pleasing too.

We stayed at the only hotel I've ever stayed at in Paris - and the one we've stayed at 3 times together now. Hotel Marignan, 13, rue du Sommerard. It's so well situated, one block from Boulevard St. Germain in the heart of the 6e (Latin Q.). It really is nothing special, but very functional in terms of location, price, included (albeit not wonderful) breakfast, and free laundry services (critical...). Mostly though, it's clean, they know us and they're rude to us anyway, and we always get a room with a little balcony. No A/C though, and in the heat Europe has been having lately, that kinda sucked for a couple of hot nights there.

What Bourdain might call a "perfect meal"

In terms of experiences had, the 10 days in France felt so much more like a month. The week in Paris was just loaded with events, several of which were unforeseen yet fun to be a part of. In spite of the fullness and go-go-go-ness, it was a very relaxed week and thorougly enjoyable.

In addition to all our planned outings we also just happened to be in Paris for the 'Fête de la Musique' celebration in which more than 250 musical acts went up around Paris on this one night. The festival is country-wide, and almost every train station we went through on our way down to the Côte d'Azur advertised a musical line-up that was part of the Fête. The day of the festival was also the day we went to the Rodin house. Katja was totally stoked about the festival and had an idea that it would be all kinds of rock music, DJ's, reggae and so on. However at the Rodin house there was a choir, a harpsichord, viola and other strings; they were playing what I assume was the 18th century equivalent of chamber music.

The Balzac Memorial (1 of 2 bronzes in Paris, the other is in the Metro station down the street), and The Thinker (after last semester, I know what he's thinking about now...)

Katja was unthrilled. I too had had the idea that the 'Fête de la Musique' would have an emphasis on more modern music. We just hadn't realized the scope of the festival. All the way home we saw street closures, bands setting up, lighting systems being assembled, and heard the sound systems all over the city being calibrated and tested. It was a rocking good party.

The Hand of God and The Lovers

The man definitely knew how to face his demons

Later that night we were seeking a restaurant based on memory that we'd had fucking great duck at last time we were in Paris. I knew the name and the general location, but my photographic memory failed me insofar as I got within half a block and still couldn't discern the restaurant amidst the chaos of the hundreds of people on every block of the 6e and the Marais. We finally gave in and consulted a phone book for the street address. When we got there we were hooked up right away with the last streetside table and had a ringside view of the slow parade of people moving from one act to the other... and the dinner music was, well, eclectic.

People Everywhere

They were playing this site's song! (Groove IS in the heart... haha!)

The France Epic: Arrival and Chartres

2005-07-05T08:13:00.000-07:00

Okay I have finally collated the 300+ photos we took on the trip into functional, organized blocks (thank you Picasa...). Trust that I have not included most of the photos of the art we saw. Between the couple of hours we spent at the Rodin and the nearly 6 hours I/we spent at the Musée d'Orsay I have more than enough material to reflect upon. Both of those museums were, for those interested, absolute must-see exhibits.

I also saw the small but meticulously maintained Delacroix museum; and we also spent an afternoon out at Chartres. Chartres blows Notre Dame in Paris right out of the water on the basis of it's glass alone. Take the time and check it out if you are ever in Paris for more than a few days... the photos here just don't do it justice. Additionally, we did visit Notre Dame (Paris) the day after Chartres, just for comparison, and we both agree that even though the structure in Paris is gorgeous - especially since the cleaning - Chartres still is more magnificent as a whole.

I will expand a little more on the previous post I wrote in Paris only to say that there is more to the town than just the cathedral. Chartres boasts a lovely old town with many half-timbered houses that have been well maintained. There is another church in the town that is fairly intact and dates to somewhere around 1000 AD (more than a century earlier than Chartres. The Crypt of the cathedral is the largest in Europe, and some of the foundations of the original Roman temple upon which the Cathedral rests are still accessible on the crypt tour. The interior shots were taken with my cell cam, hence the crappy quality. Just go see it, it'll knock your socks off.

Left: Gothic, Right: Romanesque (400 yrs. older)

North portal sculpture

The magnificent West portal and rose window

Flying Buttresses!

KG Photography

We climbed the Gothic tower too

A Gargoyle's view

A distant cemetary as seen from the tower

Katja-sized Stairwell

The obligatory, "spitting from high vantage" shot

Old town

The Cote d'Azur

2005-07-05T07:25:00.000-07:00

The Royal Riviera, Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat

A big photo update spanning our trip with copious images of the art and architecture we saw is underway, for now I wanted to finish blogging the last part of our trip, the part where we stay in a 4-star hotel for 4 days and do nothing but eat and sleep and sunbathe.

Well, that pretty much covers it.

We did in fact leave the little, tiny town we were staying in (St. Jean Cap Ferrat) one afternoon and took the bus 10 minutes over the hill to the next little, tiny town-that-has-cute-streets; had some lunch, took some pictures. Katja found cool sunglasses for 20E and I found a new bathing suit for 12E. Then we went back to the beach. Pix!

View from our room

More room view

Private hotel beach

Villa Kerylos

*drool*

David Niven's old house

These pretty birds were all over the place

Hotel is on the right

Upon my return, you will find me in the gym

It's a Cutiefish!

Villefrance-sur-mer

Katja enjoying the sunshine

Villefranche-sur-mer

Villefranche-sur-mer

Katja's eye is so good

KG Photography

KG Photography

KG Photography

KG Photography

KG Photography

Beach Club am Spree

2005-07-04T08:49:00.000-07:00

I already posted a bit about the morning we left for Paris -- or should have left I should say. We did miss the flight, we did have to wait in Berlin that day until the only other flight to Paris from Easyjet at 8p that night. The day was well spent however. We hooked up with Jessi and Christian again, and together the four of us met Matthius and some other cats at a beach club on the river Spree.

In the summer months, in several locations along the big river that runs through the city, tons of sand are trucked in and little beaches are created. Huts, dance floors, DJ booths, bars... all these things are constructed and these little clubs become the after party hang outs for those who have been clubbing all night... these are some pix from the one we were at... they had much better music than the place we'd been at the night before... plus a juice bar for those who needed to replenish nutrients not found in beer or Jack Daniels.

...and the beat goes on...

Katja by the morning light

Light me up that cigarette and i'll strap shoes on my feet

Jessi and Christian

Matthius

We're supposed to be in Paris already

Partying Berlin Style

2005-07-02T02:27:00.000-07:00

Okay so these pix need a little explanation. It is the night before we leave for Paris and we're kicking it at our friend Jessi's place in Berlin. Katja wants a good night of sleep so she stays in. I go out with Jessi and Christian and couple other friends to this back street, brokedown palace of a building for an underground party.

The whole place is dimly lit, I apologise for the photos but all came from my cell cam and there wasn't a lot to work with. Trust me though, being there wasn't very much different from the pictures. The courtyard was open air, but the quad we were all in was enclosed by this decrepit cigarette factory from way back... at least 6 storys around us.

Laser light played on the walls, strange, ambient/techno meets rock'n'roll/80's hits music was spinning. In fact the music left a lot to be desired. The night as a whole was very, very interesting however. I made my way home alone around 3:00a I guess... at any rate... some pix.

Everything was dark

Jessi

'Lounge' Area

The only light in the place (The Bar)

Morning light as I come out at Warschauer Str. Station

Photo Blast! New Arrival Pix...

2005-07-01T00:03:00.000-07:00

First day back in Germany

Olaf and his Kneipe

Unicum Interior

Stoeps and Antje

Patrick

Je dois me coucher... Mais avant....

2005-06-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

Just a quick update as I'm tired from a long day (and no nap!), though it was a fun day for our last in Paris. We got up kinda early today and used the free laundry facilities at our hotel to prep for our departure to the south of France tomorrow morning. Though, I suspect, we won't have much cause to use our newly laundered garments considering the heat we are leaving from is only going to be replaced by a swelter.

I wandered over to the Delacroix museum after breakfast. For those with interest I highly recommend this small but elegant museum that is situated in a part of one of the houses the artist was known to live in. It is right in the 5e/6e on a sweet little courtyard/roundabout. Delacroix's atelier is also there, and the garden in the back is perfect for an aprés museum lunch.

Katja spent her morning exploring the Latin Quarter a little more and then we met up and bought some lunch makings and ate down by the Seine. We were taking it easy as it is our last day in Paris for a while.

Last night we were out with my friend and Art History Prof, Deborah Loft, whose travels just happened to overlap our time in Paris by two nights. We checked out Café Universel, this great jazz bar that has no cover and ample seating and (get this), is predominantly non-fumeur.

Tonight we met up with Deborah again and she took us out to one of her favorite restaurants, Chez Lena et Mimile. It was excellent. In addition to the beautiful terrace table we had, the Menu (35€) offered some excellent choices and included a bottle of wine. I had an Arugula salad followed by Canette a l'orange, Katja had a Saumon Mariné and Tournedos Lapin in a killer sauce, and Deborah had an Aubergine Mousse and a grilled Dorade.

We shared.

The wine was really good too, a nice Rosé, which I normally avoid in favor of red, but considering the recent heat it was a perfect addition to a great meal.

Tomorrow it's off to Saint-Jean Cap Ferrat and three days of beach and sun and relaxation.

A Bientot!

Paris Is Burning

2005-06-24T02:18:00.000-07:00

Not kidding, actually. It was 35C here today damnit. That's 96F or so. Freaking hot. We were sitting in a cafe that was 'Salle Climatisé,' (air-'conditioned'), and sweating over our dim sum (yes, I know, dim sum in Paris...) There were probably two hundred or more Frenchies and tourists frolicking in the Chaillot/Trocadéro fountain near the Tour Eiffel today despite signs promising swift and severe punishment for people who walked on the grass around it, let alone took a dip in their underwear.

Nearby police units, presumably on guard against a terrorist attack at the upcoming "Sports-Extreme!" wannabe Bluetorch event at Chaillot, couldn't do more than mop their foreheads and cry a few warnings not to jump from one level of the fountain to the next. We watched the young'uns at play and soaked our feet. It felt wonderful.

Then we went bargain hunting at a designer-seconds shop in the 17e for a little black dress and some strappy sandals for Katja. No go. It was just too hot. On our way back from a much needed Croissant and Café break, we felt a few droplets and observed the gathering clouds above us with little, if any concern.

In the time it took us to get from Rue de la Pompe back to Maubert-Mutualité all hell had broken loose at ground level. Those few wisps of atmospheric condensation we'd observed earlier had called in reinforcements and coalesced into dark, sinister, charcoal colored masses that were pouring forth from their maw, a deluge fit to send Noah running for his galoshes. There were peals of thunder so loud our ears were ringing and a wind, from the very throat of Aeolus himself, threatened to tear the 300 year old sconces off of the buildings past which we ran.

We wearing tank tops.

And sandals.

And there was lightning. A lot, of lightning.

This being Paris, and we, being tourists... what do you suppose we did? Yes, that's right.

We went to dinner.

(See previous post for latest foodie details).

Catch Up

2005-06-23T21:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we took the train out to Chartres. This is something I've been trying to do during any one of the last few trips here. Chartres is a helluva story. Anyone who has been to Paris has undoubtedly seen Notre Dame Paris and been (duly, maybe) impressed.

It is wonderful. An excellent example of Gothic architecture illustrating the middle stages of the Gothic period (the cathedral at Rouen takes it even further).

Chartres is decidedly earlier in style and it shows. This is the French cathedral that most of us have seen at least a photo of, it's the one that has two completely different towers. One is part of the original design and is distinctly Romanesque in style, and the other, installed nearly 400 years later to replace a wooden one that burned up, is unmistakeably Gothic. There are more than 170 individual stained glass installations at Chartres, each tells a story and, taken as a whole, stand as a narration for the region and the times.

(blather blather blather... art-speak continues until no one reads this blog again...)

Suffice to say a I had a blast and Katja enjoyed wandering around with me, snapping away and grabbing some great shots of the Cathedral and the Old Town (pix follow... we forgot the damn cable at home so you'll have to check back in about a week...)

We have been doing our best to conserve money (ok, Katja has, I just go along as best I can), but one area we have not skimped is on food. We have eaten more incredible food in the last few days than some small villages produce in a month. Since we've been here we've eaten the following body parts (and their associated creatures):

Cheese. (cow, goat, sheep, you name it, one can probably make a cheese out of some secretion and, chances are, we've eaten it). It is in fact, extremely difficult to avoid this substance here in france. They do have butter, but most of the time you have to ask for it. They prefer to give you a nice Roquefort or a slab of Chevre instead.

Liver. Again, not hard to find, most places have some form of this as a standard appetizer; again, we've eaten several different kinds including duck, goose and chicken.

Tongue. Not sure this was supposed to be in that particular dish, but nevertheless, I ate it and it was delicious.

Standard fare of breast/flank/tenderloin and so on.

Cheek. (of cow). Called here Tete-de-Veau, meaning literally "Head of Cow." I'd heard of this several times, and hadn't really ventured there yet, but after Bourdain's, "A Cook's Tour," I had to go there. Katja, like a good foodie should, was right there with me. It was delicious. Tender, flavorful, served with a pile of shallots and chervil on top, alongside some blanched and steamed potatoes. Trust me, do this dish right and you won't forget that meal.

Piles of fresh fish, shellfish. Wow. A LOT of amazing, high quality seafood is in season and in abundance (and therefore cheap) right now. For instance tonight we went to this Malaysian joint we know of out in the 16e called Chez Foong (remember that if you're ever here... yum). We had, among other tasty delights, a filet of wild Salmon seasoned and wrapped in a banana leaf and then grilled.

Ya.

I'll leave it at that I think.

Yet Somehow, We're Here

2005-06-21T15:17:00.000-07:00

After joking around with us about missing our flight at a time when neither of us were in the mood - in fact we had to hold each other back from strangling the #(*&@#$!... the EasyJet reservation agent informed us that there was, in fact, another flight to Paris at 20h that night.

Great.

I had barely slept the night before as I'd been out until 3:00a with Jessie and Christian at an 'underground' party that was held in a *very* old cigarette factory that looked a bit like the building in that shitty horror flick 'The Haunted Mansion.' Lotsa fun, shitty music, photos to follow.

At any rate, we're in Paris and we made it to our hotel on the appointed day of our reservation (barely), and were able to check in (again, just barely) before the late receptionist left for the night; she was, by the way, uniformly unpleasant, a fact I (magnanimously, I felt, considering her verbage) attributed to the lateness of our arrival and was willing to forgive. This was premature.

The next evening as we were leaving for dinner she was, again, on duty and was again completely rude to both of us over a very minor request on our part. She is not Parisian, she is not even from France, she is, without a doubt, an American working there. Pourquoi est-ce que je ne suis pas étonné que la personne la plus grossière que j'ai jamais rencontrée pendant mes voyages en France n'est pas Francais, mais Americain?

Of Snafu and Fubar

2005-06-20T05:48:00.000-07:00

Friday night I went to Dabergotz to my friend Toli's house for a LAN party. For those of you who aren't computer nerds, that means we played a networked video game where you try to kill each other for more than 8 hours. Pizza was ordered and Köstritzer Schwarzbier was on-hand in profusion. Katja (obviously) wasn't interested in going and instead went out to dinner and then dancing with two girlfriends.

I hadn't planned on staying as long as I did, but Dabergotz is kinda far from Neuruppin and there aren't any busses running at 2a. I hung out until a friend, Christian, kindly drove me back to Alt Ruppin. It was about 4:30 in the morning by this time, but by the light of day it felt more like 7a. Katja, surprisingly, was also not home yet. And I had no key. And I had to go to the bathroom.

After circling the house once, I jimmied one of the doors to the sun room and got in, I'm still not sure how I did it as I was unable to reproduce the feat later in the day. I guess desperation a good cat burglar makes. At any rate K arrived home shortly thereafter and we both hit the sack for a few hours.

Later that day we packed up and took the train into Berlin. We were staying with Jessie that night because we had an early flight to Paris on Sunday.

We missed the flight. And I'll tell you why.

It would seem that even the German train system, usually so reliable, moreso than that of the French I've found, is not immune to delay and even cancellation. The train we were supposed to catch to make our flight wasn't running because of construction somewhere... construction that was not evident for a train with the same route and itinerary but 30 minutes later; alas... allowing us to get to the airport exactly nine minutes after our flight had closed.

Argh.

'Vorlage'

2005-06-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Ok, I wanted to make some changes to my site template and being the self-proclaimed IT 'pro' that I am I had to figure out how to change the display language for all webpages to English. My German is pretty good but how am I supposed to know that 'Vorlage' means Template? Anyway I figured it out.

I ate my first Döner in more than 18 months yesterday. God it was good. And all of a buck forty or so... ohman, staying fit is tough when there is good, cheap döner kebap and delicious falafel to be had everywhere.

"Really? i can have extra, extra sauce? for no extra charge at all? By all means drown it in Knoblauch Soße man!" (that's garlic sauce to you...)

Last night we met up with some good friends at Unicum, the local joint that everyone hangs at, fun place, photos to follow... anyway my buddy, Stöps, was there, with frisbee. So after a couple beers and shot of Jameson we crossed the street to the park and played the first frisbee of the summer... a little pre-season warm up that we both needed. I love it here.

There is talk of a late July, quick-like expedition to Ibiza for those with the guile and means. So all y'all stateside who've been trying to figure out what to do with that extra 2G, here it is... come to Ibiza for a week.

Man I'm itchy, this week has seemed interminable. My backpack, not really unpacked, just stares me in the face from the corner... as if to say, "you're such a tease, got me all riled up with that nonsense back home last week and now I'm just sitting here..."

Three days until Paris, 10 until Cote d'Azur, 19 until La Rochelle, 27 until Hamburg and destinations northward, 40 odd until Ibiza/Turkey/Greece... oh man.

Meanwhile the weather is fine, fine, fine... and I've got good wine.

Ah yes, These are the Germans I remember!

2005-06-12T02:43:00.000-07:00

Whew. Tonight we went to a 'surprise' birthday celebration for Olaf, the owner of the most popular bar in Neuruppin, Unicum. I know this guy from my last two trips over here and he's great. A bunch of us met up at Unicum around 7:30 and then went over to his place to assault him with plenty of food and drink, including a friggin' grill out the back of someones BMW and a pile of marinated Schweinefleisch to go on it. It's 2:30 in the morning right now which is pretty late\early for Neuruppin, all things considered.

We proceeded to get Olaf completely drunk, fortunately in his own house. Germans can drink. Doesn't matter what it is, they'll drink it, comment about afterwards, and then go back to the kitchen looking for more, or a reasonable substitute, whichever presents itself first. These particular Germans, many of them being close friends of Olaf's, who is, by the by, Bi, became very warm and fuzzy as each bottle of red wine/beer/vodka/bourbon was consumed. There was a lot of cuddling between all party attendees going on. I really could not have asked for a better first Saturday night back in Germany.

I also forgot how much Germans tend to smoke, particularly when drinking, and inside nonetheless. So, I'm going to go shower now, and then I'm going to fall into bed, where I belong... verdammte scheisse.

Safe Landing und Blogger ins Deutsch

2005-06-11T11:09:00.000-07:00

I hope this posts in English, the rest of the Blogger interface I'm using has switched to German for some reason... :)

After a ferocious three days of preparation, my departure from the country was relatively smooth and easy. The flight from SFO to LHR was easy as pie, I was so exhausted I slept most of the way, watched part of one film and just read the rest of the time. I purposely scheduled a long layover in London so I could go meet up with friends and buy cheese at Harrod's. Well, the cheese part worked out. I didn't give my friends in London enough notice and both people I really wanted to see were not in the city yesterday.

No matter, I cruised around Knightsbridge, checking out places from childhood memory not seen in many, many years. Wandering Basil street, remarking differences and similarities. They’ve remodeled the restaurant and bar at The Capital hotel into a 40’s style establishment; it rocks. I had a glass of wine at the bar, shooting the shit with the bartender and catching up on who used to work there but doesn’t anymore, how the food is and so on.

Harrod's is both very different than I remember, and not at all changed. Upon reflection, of course the crowds I saw yesterday have always been there, but childhood memory has edited that out. They roam around the store, not really buying much; they treat it a bit like an interactive museum of British stuff. People everywhere. Security is tighter than I remember, they wouldn't let me wear my little day pack, I had to carry it around by hand. Oh but it is just as wonderful a place as I remember. Of course the bulk of my time was spent in the food halls.

They have all these little mini-restaurants built into the place now. A sushi bar, a pizzeria, a rotisserie. There are little tasting tables all over the place. I found it really difficult not to switch to a British accent. It was a physical effort not to answer every question in my best London dialect. Among other goodies, I bought the cheese I remember, Farmhouse white Cheddar from Keen. Ohman, so yummy. I took the spoils of my shopping excursion around the way to a little park I remembered and had a nice lunch with my book. Then it was time to head back to Heathrow to catch the flight to Berlin.

I was out before we ever pushed back from the gate and didn’t stir until the woman in my row tapped my shoulder, letting me know we had landed already. Katja was waiting with her brother, Christian, and it was a happy reunion.

Driving through the streets of Berlin it was as though I had been there yesterday. We crossed town to Kudamm and had a beer together, dodging the smoky bar in favor of the outside patio. It was raining as we sat beneath the huge umbrellas, catching up.

I’ve missed this place. Her parents were nearly hopping up and down with excitement when we walked in the door. I wish I had adequate words to describe all they’ve done here. They have spent the last few months building out virtually an entire apartment here for Katja. It is lovely. I will try to take some photos and post them.

We just finished breakfast in the little Wintergarten, what we would call a solarium, her glass enclosed kitchen and breakfast nook that looks out onto the garden, which is in FULL bloom. I’ve got disc II of Chillout Sessions playing as I write this, and later, when the rain abates, we’ll take the bicycles into Neuruppin and meet some friends.

In many ways, it is very good to be home.

A Message from the Department of Homeland Security

2005-06-07T01:36:00.000-07:00

Among numerous other tasks accomplished, laundry has been washed, dry cleaning has been dropped off and oil in the car has been changed. I ate some food, finished a bottle of wine from three days ago and tried to let the rest of what didn’t get done today fall out of my mind as I attempted to slip into a book. Nothing doing, so here I sit.

I guess I have a few words to say on the topic of our government's current immigration related foreign policy. As an active member of the community of citizens who are busy negotiating the slew of forms and procedures associated with obtaining an entry visa for an alien acquaintance, it has never been more clear to me that a heightened level of paranoia based on (justified?) xenophobia, combined with a red-tape bureaucracy that didn’t know it’s ass from it’s medial epicondyle to begin with makes for a seriously excruciating process.

Four weeks ago I filed form I-1xWhatever along with 3 other forms, photos of both Katja and myself, photocopies of old correspondence and other personal ‘evidence of acquaintance,’ and a check for $165 to the CIS (formerly INS) in the hopes of obtaining the K-1 Fiancé Visa for her. Today I got a letter saying that I have provided inadequate proof of acquaintance.

The woman lived with me for a year in California. I was there with her for 6 months. I sent airline ticket stubs, copies of journal entries detailing how and where we met, photos of our time together in both countries and more, along with signed affidavits from both of us stating our ability and willingness to marry.

What more could they possibly want?

The Mail-order bride industry is booming like no other time in history. Women from the Czech Republic, Ukraine, Romania, Thailand and the like swarm into this country every week on feebly constructed cases of marriage.

That taste in my mouth is bile. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have a crow to kill for his feather as quill, and some bloodletting to do. With these tools I will write another letter in the hopes that this will be enough.

I think Sheila and my dad had the right idea when they expatriated to France two months ago.

The Assemblage of Bits and Pieces

2005-06-06T13:06:00.000-07:00

There is simply not enough time finish everything that needs finishing before Thursday. I finished finals strong, all work completed, all tests taken, hopefully all good grades. At this point though, I’ll be completely honest I could care less. The weather has been fine, fine, fine here for days. We had a small birthday celebration for Tom and Katrina here on Friday night. It was a lovely evening of Sushi and Sake, Conversation and Consumption. Adrienne, Tom and I went to Pink for a quick late night boogie, just to see what was going on. Charles Spencer, of Loveslap renown, was in the booth and laying down some simply wonderful beats.

Saturday Katrina invited me to go see a good friend of hers in a new play by Sharon Shipley called, “Starcrossed” which is a brilliantly written speculative prologue to Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet.” The premise of the show is a story that tells the tale of how and why the Montague and Capulet houses were such mortal enemies. It was fantastic. It was really made more enjoyable by the intimate setting; crammed, as we were, into this little black box theater on the sixth floor of a building shared with Ruby Skye, downtown. The cast of nine played fluidly together, the dialogue was both well written and well delivered. The set and costumes were bold choices that added to the energy of the piece. As this piece has had a bloom of press and requests for scripts are coming in from all over, including the London National Theater, look for it on a stage near you.

So I had good weekend, really. Underneath all the fun was the itchy knowledge that I had really only just begun to prepare for the next two months. I should have this down to a science by now, and really, I suppose, I do. It’s just that it seems hasty. I can’t wait to go, but I ain’t ready to leave… rrrarrghhgh.

Look for more exciting episodes in this tale as the hours count down and I, for lack of focus and concentration, decide to sit and write instead of finish the 1001 slices of minutiae that must be completed before I fly.

Oh me.

Chewing My Ponytail

2005-05-24T17:13:00.000-07:00

It's Tuesday. How the hell did it get to be Tuesday already? Sunday was just here, with it's warm SF breeze, sunburned shoulders and soccer tourneys. Ugh. One more day before a hellish storm of final exams is upon me. Coping? Yes, but I forget these rules about studying that say you have to take a break every 50 minutes or so. Hence this silly entry.

The Adaptive Diversity of Australopithecus Robustus. Doesn't that sound fascinating? Wouldn't that keep you riveted for hours of unending reading fun? God. I think I need to take a nap. Just a short one mind you, I wouldn't want to waste any of the precious moments I have left not learning all I can about how bipedalism is the most critical determining factor in our evolutionary development into the most advanced species on the planet.

Sometimes I wonder why our ancestors ever came out of the forests... hell, right now even moving into the forest seems like it was too rash a move, fish have the right idea...

Local Eatery Makes Good

2005-05-19T22:13:00.000-07:00

Coming as it does, so close on the heels of the culinary experience I had at Daniel Boulod's magnificent restaurant in Manhattan, the meal I had tonight at Fork in San Anselmo deserves at least as much recognition.

I had heard excellent things about this joint from more than one source and have for a long time wanted to try it. Tonight proved to be the perfect opportunity. It wasn't very busy when we showed up around quarter to nine. The menu and wine list are both modest in offerings, but each available selection leaves little to be desired. We started with a seared Ahi appetizer served over cold Saba noodles and topped with a light sesame dressing of sorts. Delicate, flavorful and superb. At the same time we shared a Mezclun salad with a lovely warm goat cheese and topped with a pear dressing that was, again, light and delectable. The entree was a tender cut of lamb, herb crusted and served on a bed of steamed spinach and a cherry gastrique.

All the food was worthy of at least a star, which, if the critics of any caliber would ever deign to travel this far into Marin, would certainly make haste to award. The wine list is complementary to the fare to say the least, with both excellent local and French choices.

The prices are incredible as well, all starters except for the oysters are under ten dollars and all entrees were the same price: 16.50. They have a lovely tasting menu at 50-something per person with wine that gives an excellent overview of their offerings.

Absolutely not to be missed!

Fork
415.453.9898
198 Sir Francis Drake
San Anselmo

Out of Wine? Oh...

2005-05-19T00:13:00.000-07:00

After a completely idiotic day I’m finally sitting down to write and rant a little. I just reread what I wrote about NY. I don’t get much traffic here, and frankly I’m not surprised. Effusive might not be a strong enough word.

I had two exams today and while both were in the classroom they both still felt like a bad Proctology department visit. Plus this damn wisdom tooth is fucking with me. I’m on antibiotics, which I hate. And I have a pain I didn’t earn through exercise, which I also hate.

I just have to make it through one more week. Seven little days. I’ve been so good this semester at staying up on things and that will be my saving grace. No catch up, just have to hold it together through exams. I still have these gems that pop into my awareness. Little memories of moments, big, time-consuming reflections that distract me from what I am supposed to be doing.

I can still smell that city on the clothes that sit un- unpacked in my room. Damn, what a little flavor of The Road does to me. I can’t wait for the next plane ride, the next air-chariot to climes yet unexplored.

I really did run out of wine, how did that happen?

Coast to Coast, or, What To Do With 4 Days You Don't Have

2005-05-16T03:22:00.000-07:00

In the end I couldn’t wait any longer. With the end of classes looming and more studying to be done than I cared to consider, I called the airline and changed my flight. Instead of an early morning flight, I hopped the red-eye to JFK last Tuesday.

But first I went to the ballgame. At 7:30 on Tuesday night I met Scott and Louis outside Pacbell Park with tickets in hand. Tickets to seats that were amazing, I might add. We were on the Field Club level, row E. That means we were sixth row back from the field, seated directly between the Giants dugout and home plate. Good seats. We had a couple of beers together, and some very soupy nachos. The Giants played the Pirates and lost, but I got to see a home team homerun before I had to dash off to OAK.

I made the flight and was all settled in with my journal and some Dewar’s. Six hours later I was making my way through the new Airtrain-to-NY Subway interchange. It is a virtually seamless transfer that makes getting from JFK to Midtown easy for someone with a backpack on.

I will always love the Subway/Metro/Tube. I love the clacking of the train and whooshing of air as it rushes into the station. I love having to grab a service map and navigate the route to where I want to be. I love learning about a city’s street system from underneath it. And I love the feeling of walking up out of the destination station onto a busy street that couldn’t care less that I’m there, but welcomes me with it’s noise and bustle just the same. Arriving in London, Paris or Berlin gives me the same feeling, but with different flavors, each unique, each familiar and warm.

New York. Oh my. My last visit was hurried and incomplete and I found myself SO glad to be back. I walked out onto 53rd and Lex and into the heart of Manhattan’s morning commute. You know, here in the Bay Area we are lucky enough to have the stunning physical surroundings that we do. The price we pay is to sit in traffic, squandering these oh so precious minutes of our lives waiting to get from one place to another.

I’m the kind of person who will take the back road, the end run, even if it ultimately takes longer to get where I’m going, just so I can keep moving. The streets of NY are just as crowded and filled and traffic ridden, but the people keep moving, striding and bumping and dodging their way through each other. We’re warmer here in Cali, more friendly perhaps, but there is some sense of unity in navigating the crowded sidewalks of Midtown, beset on all sides by strangers and yet still able to enjoy moments of solitude.

Wednesday was a free day. After all, I wasn’t even supposed to be there yet. I had some idea of what the ensuing 96 hours would bring, but no concept of the tenor those four days would take. So I called Tom to let him know I was in early and then I went and met up with Jane. We walked up the east side, skirting the park and checked out the Guggenheim. Why waste time after all? This is what I came for. To satisfy the thirst and entire semester of the History of Modern Art had given me.

They have a lovely collection, and the facility is quite magnificent. Each floor had something unique to offer, and walking from each exhibit to the next, winding our way up, up, up into the skylit column was an experience in itself. They have a fine collection of Manet, Cezanne, Klee, Miro… Picasso. My goodness, Picasso. Later on we visited the Conservatory gardens in the park. Tulips of countless colors were blooming and the impeccably manicured botany basked in the sunlight of a perfect spring New York morning.

That evening I hooked up with Tom and Lisa outside her place at 71st and CPW. They took me over to Amsterdam to The Dead Poet, this great little bar in split level with the most expensive pay pool table I’ve ever played on. The walls were plastered in black and white reproductions of poet legends throughout history and the world. Jane met up with us later after her dinner, and Lisa knew the bartender so our little foursome was stoked.

Thursday morning I had an appointment with Jane at Christie’s. She had a painting by Wayne Thiebaud in that morning's auction, Post-War and Contemporary art. There were several hundred lots up and hers was about in the middle of the pack. Expectations were high but nervous. We sat right in front. I came to see the art.

Hoffman, Stella, Kline, Guston… Warhol and de Kooning for God’s sake! I couldn’t get enough. Seeing works by these artists in slides and in books is one thing; sitting six feet from a rotating display of their works for two hours is quite another. Couple that with getting to watch the bidding process and seeing how much each went for was frankly, just interesting as hell. We didn’t stay for the whole thing, but we did remain in our seats for a respectable number of lots beyond No. 271.

Jane’s little Thiebaud Cupcake performed quite well. Better than expected actually. In fact it blew it’s top estimate and wound up taking top bid for the morning session of the auction. Incroyable. We met Jane’s friend, Ellen, and had a lovely celebratory lunch in a nearby wine bar called Morrell. Excellent wine list and the food was great.

I did some wandering around for the middle part of the day and then met up with my cultural compatriot and the two of us crossed town and made our way to Pier 54 for a photography exhibit Katrina had strongly recommended. Whew.

Gregory Colbert is something else. I won’t even try to explain the exhibit, it would take too long. The thing took up the whole pier and was designed by this Japanese guy to be completely transportable. The entire exhibit packs itself into the recycled industrial shipping containers that it’s built from and then shipped to ports around the world. Inside was like a cathedral. Ethereal music and lighting, huge silk-screened prints floating midair, suspended from nearly invisible wire and flanking a long, straight walkway. That’s all I can say; I wouldn’t presume to be able to put words to Colbert’s art. His vision has to be experienced to be understood and appreciated.

Coming soon to an abandoned waterfront pier near you.

We were late for dinner. Jane knew I was coming out to NY and promised to make my stay as gastronomic as possible. We had reservations at Nobu, that slick Sushi joint that slings plates as artistic as they are delicious. We gorged ourselves.

Later on, wandering our through the Village, I finally made contact with Kathy. She had graduated with an MA from Tisch School of the Arts at NYU that morning and her voice on the other end of the phone implored us to come meet her and her friends just a few blocks away. We cabbed over, crashed a big formal prom-type dance on the way, and arrived at the bar with our stolen silver and gold balloons. Full effect. I don’t remember much after that….

Friday was dedicated to the MOMA. I had seen Deborah’s photos (my illustrious art history prof.), heard what she had to say about her visit back in February (Christo’s Gates….), and was quite taken aback – but in a good way, by the redesign. Granted I didn’t get a chance to really explore the MOMA in its last incarnation during my previous visit, but the differences were marked. A little cold in the hallways, they’ll fix that; and the exhibit galleries have some arrangement and flow issues, but altogether it works. The sculpture courtyard is awesome. In this perfect weather there we folk in swank black wire chairs lounging in the sun and chatting beneath the unmoving sculpture.

I gave it a good four hours and covered the rest of the semester’s material that the Guggenheim just didn’t have. ‘Nuff said about that really. It was completely fulfilling. Go see it.

That evening I hooked up with Azarel over at the new Lincoln Jazz Center, where she works. What a place. They were hosting the top 15 schools in the country who were there because they beat out 125 other schools in a national Jazz band competition. Az gave me the grand tour and then introduced me to Wynton Marsalis. ‘Nuff said about that. Then we had a drink across the street at The Coliseum and caught up.

Saturday morning seemed to come too quickly. I had an early evening flight so I stowed my bags and wandered up and down Madison and Fifth. The stores there are incredible. This one place, Shanghai Tang, has clothing for men and women that is just so unique; incorporating color, figure and form reminiscent of the stuff you see in Chinese opera. Barney’s is just great. Impractical and overpriced, yes; but great. The last dip was into the Neue Gallerie up on 90-something. A small gallery, the restaurant on the ground floor is perhaps more well known, but the two floors house a killer rotating special exhibit, and the house exhibit featuring works by Klimpt, Schiele and many other wonderful German artists. The Hoffman furniture is especially outstanding. The upstairs exhibit was devoted to Photo Portraiture. Many of the subjects were artists and writers. It is one thing to enjoy the wonder of a beautiful Klimpt woman; but it made it more enjoyable for me to see Klimpt himself, caught on film, dancing around his garden in a huge, stylized nightdress designed by his then-wife.

Alas the time came to get back to JFK. I know I’ll be back, and that, soon. They say you need to live in NY for at least eight years before you can call yourself a true New Yorker. If that’s the case I don’t think I’ll ever fit the bill. But I tell you, I’ve got her number now, and I know she’ll answer me every time I call or come to visit. She’s just that kind of City.

A Plague on Both You Ushers!

2005-05-08T23:32:00.000-07:00

Sheesh... watch out all you ballet and symphony goers, there are some new sheriffs in town and they don't take none too kindly to us lowly Standing Room patrons getting in their way and interfering with their 'jobs.' They’re called ‘Ushers,’ although after our experience at the San Francisco ballet on Saturday, I think they should be called “shushers.” (Clever, that, innit?) We were alternately bustled out of aisles and rebuked for sitting on railings, all the while having to endure the verbal effrontery of these overly-officious buffoons.

Despite feeling like small children to whom it is being made evident that the wish is that we been seen and not heard, and that even the being seen part was really quite negotiable, Katrina and I managed to have a lovely time drinking in the eloquently adapted “Romeo and Juliet,” set to Prokofiev’s euphoric strains.

A tale nearly as old as dirt itself, having first appeared as far back as 2nd Century AD in the Greek romance Anthia and Abrocomas, by Ephesius, Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” is a story we should all be familiar with by now. Even in the playwright’s own time there was rampant adaptation of the tale.

Today is no different. What could be better than to do away with all that confusing verse, all that iambic pentameter and quarto form and instead deliver a performance in which the storyline is laid bare by the emotional content of each scene. Saturday’s performance did just that, and did it elegantly.

Highlights for me include the scene in which Romeo, burdened by his unrequited ‘love' for Rosaline, joins his friends in the street at night just before slipping into the Capulet’s party en Masques.

Romeo:
Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

Mercutio:
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

And dance he does. For the next nearly three hours he and Juliet entwine and unwind themselves around each other in duets whose movements, fluidity and passion seem to flow from the same places that inspired Claudel to sculpt her “Waltz.” Perhaps similar inspiration was at work on the wardrobe designers responsible for the creation of simply stunning costumes. Period, impeccably accurate, but dance-ably so. Father Capulet’s robe in particular was remarkable.

In Act III R+J finally get to consummate their love and Romeo is so incensed by the experience that he spends a good four minutes leaping about the stage while Juliet looks on from the bed. She too has good run of her own Jeté, alternating between simply marvelous sections a pas de Bourrée. Her point work was some of the best I’ve ever seen, so delicate and precise it looked easy.

Mercutio of course has his wonderful sword fight with Tybalt, ending in his death and the light but ‘grave’ soliloquy that tolls his death.

‘tis no so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
church-door, but ‘tis enough, ‘twill serve: ask for
me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.

The swordplay is excellent and the players themselves appear caught up in the momentum that builds from this scene to the end of the play.

Even more well done is the scene in which Juliet, confronted by both of her parents, is forced to endure her father’s presentation of her chosen husband-to-be, Paris. They make her do it in her nightgown and barefoot no less. The sense of her powerlessness was visceral.

From the sets to the costumes, the music to the lighting design, the show was superbly produced and performed. The show closed today, and I was tempted to run into the city to see the show one more time and find out if the ushers on the other side of the house were any friendlier…

Sin City

2005-05-01T23:29:00.000-07:00

Thursday found me hastily packing for a weekend in Vegas. We left Oakland around midday, and after one of the bumpiest, most turbulence ridden plane rides I've experienced we arrived in time to check in to our hotel, have a quick nap and then dress for the evening. Thanks to the ever well connected Jane, Katrina and I had 6 row center tickets to the Cirque du Soleil show "O" comped and waiting for us. We had a pre-show drink and lively conversation at Caramel in the Bellagio and then went to our seats.

I had heard good things about this show but nothing prepared me for the experience we had that night. The show is amazing. Inside the theater that was specifically designed and built for this show the troupe put on an amazing spectacle. To begin with the stage is enormous, both wide and deep, and the entire thing is constructed in sections which can move vertically up and down independent of each other. For most of the show the stage is a very deep pool of water and the performers spend most of their time diving and jumping in and out of it. The acrobatics are inspired and incredible to watch. We were close, seated in the "wet section" where supposedly we were warned that we would get wet... we didn't but we could feel the spray as high divers plummeted in ones, twos and threes from heights that looked to be double of those regularly attempted by olympic high divers.

There was this sequence where three devices called Russian Swings were used to launch acrobats 40 feet into the air there to perform spins and flips, twists and poses that were visually stunning. As always with Cirque du Soleil the intense athleticism of the performers was broken up by scenes starring the clowns who were sweet and funny and endearing. Ai yai yai!

After the show the two of us just sat and took it in. Eventually, after everyone had filed out and we were in fact asked to leave so that they could clean the theater in preparation for the second show, it occurred to us that there was going to BE a second show that night. How anyone could deliver that kind of experience once let alone twice a night is beyond me.

Still floating on the cloud we had been placed one, we swept out of the Bellagio and hopped a cab across town to the Hard Rock there to have a delicious meal in a restaurant Katrina had selected. It is called Simon Kitchen, and it serves up beautifully crafted haute cuisine in a swank but elegant atmosphere. The wine list was good and the desserts were out of this world. The loungy DJ'ed set was followed by a live performance from an up and coming singer songwriter whose name escapes me, and was VERY loud; loud but entertaining.

Fat and happy, we cabbed it over to the Wynn where we joined Jane and her crew at La Bete for the clubs opening night. It was just fine, not outstanding in any way except for the company. I was left with the reinforced perspective that we definitely have some amazing clubs here in SF and certainly have a corner on the completely fucking incredible house music scene. Around 3a we wandered out and went back to our hotel down the strip there to crash and get the first 8 hour night of sleep either of us had had in days.

Morning found us moving slow and taking our time. We sought out a Starbucks, and fortified by our espresso drinks we met up with Carol and Jane at Neiman and just wandered around the mall for awhile. Carol had to split so the three of us went Caesar's and had lunch at Bertolini's, a decent Italian joint near the Forum shops. All three of us were still working out the toxins from the night before but by the end of the meal were ready to do some serious browsing. We ogled Coach and other boutiques and I found a great shirt which was just calling to me.

Later that evening Kat and I met up with her local buddy Scott and had drinks in Mandalay Bay and then dinner at the bar in Charlie Parker's steak house downstairs. This is the same guy who opened Aureole and we were not disappointed. The three of us shared two lovely salads, and two grilled fish dishes. Then we went for a ride in Scott's 911 out into the desert for dessert. Whoo... when you have to be anywhere and not be say, more than 5 minutes late... 911, accept no substitutes.

Around 12:30 we met up with Jane at La Bete again and the scene could not have been more different. People everywhere, great table service, excellent mix of music and good company. I stayed until the joint had quieted and found us chilling on comfy couches outside in front of the waterfall. Another fabulous night.

Saturday my flight wasn't until 8p and I was more than ready to go home. But the day was good, Kat had a spa treatment and I read my book, "The Kite Runner," a good recommendation if you're interested. Then Kat, Jane and i hooked up and had a lunch at the high rollers buffet consisting of surprisingly good dim sum and other sundry Chinese food. We sent Kat on her way to the airport for her 5p flight and then Jane and I had one last glass of wine before I had to go back and get ready to split for home.

Vegas is growing by the month it seems. Flying in on Thursday afternoon afforded me a view of Vegas I hadn't seen before. The patchwork growth like some urban lichen on the desert floor. The Nevada desert, as unlikely a place for one of the most decadent destinations in the world as there ever was. So many people live there already, with more arriving all the time. For me though, each of my two night visits reinforces the knowledge that two nights really is enough. I jumped my plane and two hours later I was sharing salad, pizza and beer with Scott and Jeff at Jupiter in Berkeley. On the drive home I ruminated on the weekend's events, grateful that at the other end of this drive was a little slice of peaceful heaven, far from the dings and whistles, lights and intensity of Las Vegas.

Then I went to bed.

Cheers!

Chocolate Chicks

2005-04-23T12:00:00.000-07:00

You know, I'm at DNA quite often, and I have yet to be there on one of these nights... O My God

This find is courtesy of Jenne's site... thanks for the constant source of enlightenment Jen!

Where do I sign up?

Wilkommen

2005-04-23T11:34:00.000-07:00

A hearty hello to Andrea way out there in the middle somewhere. She has recently launched her own blog which can be found here. I, for one, can't wait to hear how she adapts her witty, intelligent, running dialogue on life to the written word... much love Red.

California Misses You

2005-04-18T19:17:00.000-07:00

Last night four old friends got together for dinner at Lotus in San Rafael. There were AT LEAST ten emails sent back and forth between us the week prior. Ideas were slung, possibilities generated and considered and finally decided upon. As it was two sets of Marin parents were out of town for the weekend so we had our choice of homes to settle at after our delicious Indian meal. Katrina kindly had us over for red wine flights, home made angel food cake, ice cream and strawberries, and some of the best conversation we've all had together in a long time.

We talked of friends and family, life and art, culture and film. It was concluded that this type of thing just doesn't happen often enough and that steps will have to be taken to ensure that such events are not few and far between.

California misses You, Jenne Raub, and You Andrea Gross, and all you others out there who are at home but far from 'home.' We'll always have this, and we are so lucky for it. I will not take these things for granted in my life, ever. There is nothing more important in my life than my friends.

Cheers.

Oof Da

2005-04-18T18:12:00.000-07:00

So much going on these days. Last night was outstanding. In fact the whole weekend was awesome. The weather on Saturday was undeniable and I went with a friend down to Stanford to the Cantor Center for Arts to see "Edge of the East," a traveling exhibit showing some of the cutting edge, contemporary art coming out of China. It was a fascinating show that included an installation piece consisting of 12 traditional Chinese school writing desks, each had a character workbook, traditional ink and brush and there was this video playing showing how to make accurate strokes. In essence it was an interactive installation where the 'art' was being created by each visitor who took the time to sit and learn a bit.

And it is MUCH more difficult to draw/write Chinese characters than I thought it would be. It is an absolute art form. Precision and accuracy, of stroke and form are the only appreciated expressions.

We also spent quite a bit of time in the Rodin sculpture courtyard where they have more than a dozen casts of some of his finest works; including a full size cast of the Gates of Hell, the seminal work that was never delivered to the client because the commission 'fell short' of expectations. It is stunning, horrifying and moving all at once.

Later that evening I had the first professional massage I've had in at least two years out at Frog's in Fairfax. It was amazing, I achieved levels of muscular relaxation I had forgotten were possible. This is something that will become a regular part of life.... and at $1 per minute, it's cheaper than some phone calls I make daily. Of course on Sunday I was a little sore, but hey you know what they say, No Pain - No warm tingly feeling in my hands and back right?

Two Weeks in Review

2005-04-15T13:08:00.000-07:00

Where is 2005 going? I blinked and it's tax day. The last couple of weeks have been nutty. On top of my folks finally calling me from their B & B in Bordeaux to let me know they are alive and have not, in fact, been kidnapped by the French wine cartels. They still have no house, but they don't sound worried about that. I have a plane ticket now and dates I'll be gone. There is something incredibly solidifying about buying a plane ticket. It doesn't matter how long the trip is, or where I go, just having the ticket means I know where I have to be and what I need to be ready for....

When Parents Leave The Country

2005-04-01T22:06:00.000-08:00

You know I've been really fine with this whole thing all along. I think it is a fabulous idea that my dad and Sheila move to France. Today though, was actually their last day in California... and in a week they'll be in Paris and then moving on to the Bordeaux region. I think it didn't really hit me until this afternoon as we were all sitting together over coffee at Trieste in Sausalito.

There was somewhat idle talk several months ago by my father and step-mother that they were thinking of moving to Europe. Then in December they actually went to France and toured several regions of interest and came back buoyed by their experience and ready to move forward. They enlisted an attorney over there, several real estate agents, opened bank accounts and made the proper inquiries about citizenship, legality and insurance. Then they sold their house in Orange County, packed up the house, shipped their stuff and the car and hit the road for a few days. Spent the night with my sister in Santa Cruz, a couple of nights up here in Marin and tomorrow morning they jump a plane to Kansas to hang with Sheila's boys and the grandkids.

Fine. Really. It's just that OC is SOOO much closer both geographically and psychologically than the fucking Vendee region of France. I mean really, it's fine, it's amazing actually and totally the right thing for them to be doing. I tell you though, if I didn't have a German girlfriend with family near Berlin, I would be having a lot more difficulty with this. Now instead of just one good reason to up and go to Europe with any frequency, I have two.

As I'm getting older I am realizing how much I absolutely abhor Goodbyes. It isn't as though I don't feel anything, or that I'm somehow detached from the reality of a goodbye situation, I just remain healthily in denial until at least an hour later -- usually when I'm conveniently alone. I know in less than 4 months I'll be on my way to see my folks from Germany by train. But there is this whole period of intense change, evolution, transition, development, and in some ways upheaval that they will be going through really without either my sister or I, or our step brothers.

It is a grand adventure, that is my feeling. Grand adventures can be daunting though, and I saw that in their eyes tonight. They are prepared, things are going to be fine, but there is a strain behind their eyes. The strain of not knowing.

See the thing is they don't have a house in France yet. Yeah. They sold the OC house and are doing this move on speculation. Oh they know where they'd like to be, they have the proper contacts for seeing what's available... but they don't actually have a home base there yet.

I could really free write all night about this but I think I'll leave it at that for now. I'm stoked for them, and I really wish I could just go with them for a few weeks, just the first few weeks. Not to hold hands or help out even, but just to go see, to experience first hand their experience with this new adventure.

Sheila, Dad, I love you both very much and wish you absolutely all the best for a smooth, effortless, graceful transition into this new phase of life. Enjoy yourselves, and in three months I expect we'll be sitting in the garden, conversing in French, eating cheese and sipping a local favorite.

Bon Voyage!

Friendship

2005-03-20T23:13:00.000-08:00

Like air, and water, like pizza too in fact, friendship is critical to my life. Maybe even a little more than pizza actually, and that's saying a lot. In four days I have alternately been drenched, sun-bathed, worked over, and imbibed more than I can say for the past two months. Coming down off of the push that was mid-terms this semester has been natural, pleasant and remarkable. Mostly because I didn't even realize the shit-stress-fucked-over-eat-my-own-brain for breakfast phase I'm just coming out of even WAS mid-terms until it was almost past. It took a classmate whining about how much mid-terms were kicking her butt for me to ask, "Are we in mid-terms right now?" Wide eyes and suspicion all around, believe me (oh he must not be taking a full load...)

At any rate, friendship. How do we make friends? Why? Once we are friends with someone, what perpetuates it, lets it continue to grow and persist in a way that few intimate relationships in my life haven't even come close to? Couldn't say really. At least not beyond reiterating the fundamental precept to how I attempt to conduct myself. That being that at each turn of life, I strive to be straight with myself and those around me. It isn't easy, and it doesn't always go smoothly. I make choices that seem considered and rational at the time, only to discover that in fact they were quite dumb and sightless later on. Hence the old hindsight cliche.

Point being that in life, I think, a friend is someone who not only understands this about oneself, but has experienced it and therefore can sympathize. Growing up is such a pain in the ass, and just when I think I may have got it at least partially right, wrenches start appearing in the works. I think maturity can be defined as how well one deals with the wrenches. Shave and haircut, that's my two bits.

Another Saturday Night

2005-03-07T22:13:00.000-08:00

No, you should not believe a word Ted says....

Two if by Candle

Man of the house

Table for four please....

Katrina, Ted, Aisha

Awww...

Just a cool shot

Bunny Ears? Really?

Gaurav's Balcony View

Gaurav's Other Balcony View

Great Hands

Party Folk

Lovely in the darkness

Positively Glowing

Packed House

Oh God, Shots

Cheers!

Why I didn't do shots

Kitchen Scene

Very Nice...

Why I wasn't using the flash all night...

Cuties by Candlelight

Busy Man...

Masked and Dangerous

Parking in Crosswalks

2005-03-07T11:24:00.000-08:00

Saturday evening found me much too quickly. After a day of prepping for the coming school week, I made my way home to find my Mom preparing another of her delicious meals. My god-parents and a friend of theirs from New York soon arrived, and we all shared a glass and conversation, some topics included Christo's latest, I wondered if Christina had seen it and what she and her fellow New Yorkers thought of it; Bacteria, Fruit Flies, Mice, Nematodes and their relationship with the Atkins diet (thanks uncle John); and a discussion on whether or not the soup was 'too leeky.' I love these people so much...

Shortly before the dessert was served I made my excuses and quickly freshened in the shower, dressed and was out the door to meet Jason. He just moved into a great 2BR place with Meaghan in Kentfield, and i say, well done. He is a lot closer now and despite our conflicting busy schedules I know this means we'll get to see more of each other. We met at the Silver Peso in Larkspur for a drink and so I could have a chance to twist his arm into coming to SF with me that night. Nothing doing... damn virtuous fireman. It was really, really good to catch up, however briefly.

Around 9:45 or so I pulled up to The Globe. Kirra and Sheila were cheek deep in yummy looking food but napkined up long enough for pecks all round. Scott, rockstar that he is, was mid-shift on a 12, nursing a hangover and fading energy but still on his craft. I had the presence of mind to grab the camera on the way out the door and was therefore able to catch the man in the act. Kirra and Sheila had apparently just been making out with each other, the kind of making out intended as a deterrent against the unwanted attentions of a bereft middle-aged guy's advances. Somehow I came a moment too late and missed their kiss, drat.

Katrina rolled in from her previous engagement and we promptly proceeded to clink and sip our way into the evening. Ever generous with his smile and pour, Scott had us under his wing for almost an hour, at the end of which he sent us, somewhat ruefully I must say, on our way. We headed up toward Gaurav's pad in Kat's rental (thankfully much smaller than my truck) and proceeded to not find a parking spot anywhere within 4 square blocks.

Hoping to hide beside it, we tucked her little Chevy 4-Door next to a big Chevy, just inside the crosswalk, and right in front of G's front door. Crossing our fingers, we rang and were buzzed in. Lovely I have to say... Gaurav had the fireplace going, the lights were low and little groups chatted all around. After breaking a glass within 3 minutes of having entered his place, I retrieved a plastic cup and Gaurav mixed up a VodTon for K. As you can see, I spent my time having fun with the camera.

Good gracious it was a gorgeous night. Gaurav's pad has a wonderful balcony with a great view in both directions. Late in the evening Katrina and I stood in the night air and admired the lights of what we'd decided a Saturday prior was definitely one of our favorite cities. For an early March evening, it was positively balmy.

I'm running pretty hard these days, moving in many directions all at once. I'm really enjoying it though. Somehow there is time for everything, even to sit and write this despite the pile of work I know is waiting for me. There are these times in life when serendipity dominates and everything just clicks and flows; when intention and presence of mind are all one needs to move with grace. It seems to be all around right now, betraying it's presence in the little things: simultaneous thought, coincidental phone calls, serendipitous meetings of friends long since last seen.

Life is not without it's travails, of course, but there seems to be a natural balance right now. Four dear friends, 2 couples, have lately and independent of each other decided that it was a good time for them to live together. Literally within 2 weeks of each other, Jeff and Karen found a perfect place for themselves in Berkeley, and on the other side of the bay, with perhaps months of no communication between them, Jason and Meaghan found their spot. I don't know that it means anything in the grand scheme of things, but it certainly fits with what I've been noticing is going on. It lends more nuance and depth to the beauty that pervades.

Growth is happening, life is moving apace and newness is all around. Some things need destroying before the next evolution can begin, and these kinds of things have also transpired. Friends going separate ways for now, long time lovers realizing their paths have diverged and can no longer be shared, an ocean and two continents separating me from my beloved, Sheila and my father have sold their house in OC and are preparing themselves for an enormous adventure whose end is not clear.

Et quoi meme? Je ne suis pas triste, j'attend mes affaires, je fait mes devoirs et suis mes cours, j'aime mes amis et ma famille, j'adore ma nouvelle amie et tous nos temps ensemble. Je crois que la future soit brilliant et heureuse. Alors dans ce moment, j'ai ni que l'amour et la reconnaissance pour tous. Chaque moment avec mes amis est jolie. Chaque moment dans ma vie est maintenant plein de bonheur.

Photos from The Ball!

2005-03-05T01:40:00.000-08:00

Smile for the Paparazzi!

Jane

Our Dinner Companions and Lovely Hostess

Isn't She Lovely

The Adorable Couple

Linda and Jimmy feeling good vibes

In your next issue of Marin Magazine....

Hot Tamales

Lauren and January

She could have danced all night!

Blue Eyes and Pink Ties

2005-02-28T20:15:00.000-08:00

I think I can begin to write about this now. Saturday was a night to remember for so many reasons, a few of which follow. The evening began with a frantic change in the night's planned form of transportation. My Godfather had kindly agreed to loan me the use of his Cherry red Boxster for the evening, but less than a quarter of a mile out of the garage a scary orange light came on and she started making really bad noises. So I took her back to John and left her there. This would turn out to be a boon.

I raced home and quickly washed my truck, and was happy to see it clean up so nicely. I then showered (quickly) and rapidly but accurately donned my tuxedo, pink bow tie and cummerbund. Out the door at 5:15 and on my way to pick up Katrina in Mill Valley to begin, as she would later put it, our "magical night, fairytale evening..."

We were going to the Ball!

I pulled up and Warren, I mean Mr. Weagant, came to the door and it never felt more like Prom. He admired my outfit, shook my hand and shared my amusement and laughter about the situation. Kitt was ready with the camera and Katrina, well, she looked absolutely amazing. She was wearing a pale blue, Satin McClintock full length, and white, vintage arm length gloves; finished by pretty little shoes with a nod to the Pink Tie theme with their flower detail. You know, that's just exactly how they're going to write it up in the magazines.... but I digress.

After a hilarious but hopefully quality photo opp in front of the baby grand, we swallowed a few errant jitters and hopped in the car. Our first stop was the Globe Restaurant and Bar, and a few precious moments with Scott. He kindly filled out a prescription against the pre-Ball jitters, Kat's in the form of Brandy and Soda, and mine in the form of a simple Pinot Noir. Jittery was soon a thing of the past. It was so nice and comfortable there with two of my best friends and my favorite beverage, that it was tough to leave and indeed we wound up departing behind 'schedule' but as it turned out, right on time.

With a hug and a wave, and a promise to return at the night's end, we were off to the night's main event, The Pink Tie Ball. At the invitation from lovely Jane again, we had seats at Table 27, a perfect view of the dance floor and live music, and completely awesome table mates. We pulled up to the Ritz around 7 p.m. and were swiftly ushered in. Down the elevator went, and out we spilled into a full reception area. We registered, got our table assignments and gave them my credit card information for all the stuff we were going to bid on at the auction.

Jane, in her ever-present clairvoyance, found us immediately, pulled us out of the crowd and promptly placed us before a photographer. A photo or two of the two of us, and then one of Katrina alone, full length. We gave our names and the designer of her dress and then laughed our way into the silent auction room. Two glasses of pink champagne were acquired and then we proceeded to peruse the goods. We saw the mayor of San Francisco, a couple of times; and my friend Ingvar was there with his wife Alicia, and both of them looked fantastic.

Beautiful people, dresses, shoes, and hair everywhere. The two of us just wandered and talked, occasionally considering a bid here and there, but not really. It was truly fantastic to be there with a friend, especially this friend who was at least as enthusiastic and excited as I.

At the third chime of the dinner bell we headed downstairs for dinner. Tom Pontilio, and his orchestra (I have no idea who he is either...) provided the musical entertainment; and the Ritz's kitchen provided a tasty meal and really fantastic desserts. The live auction was held during dinner, and Katrina got to flex her bidding paddle muscles on a weekend trip to the Sonoma Mission Inn. She was outbid, but the final price of more than 5G was a good amount.

We danced and danced... that is to say, Katrina danced, and I stepped on toes. Really though, after a few minutes enough of my early ball room lessons came back and I was nimble enough on my feet to take Jane for spin and thank her for making such a wonderful night possible for us. Jane looked stunning in a sequined black gown and matching shawl, and just lovely hair. She was all smiles and rightly so, as the Benefactor Chair for the event she was integral to it's execution and it went off without a visible hitch.

Later in the evening found us at the upstairs lounge chatting with Jane and her husband Bob, two friends of theirs Frankie and Mary Beth and Will Weinstein. The rain had started falling again, and we knew there was a good warm spot waiting for us around the corner. We said our thank yous and good nights and cruised back over to the Globe for a nightcap. Scott was all smiles, and despite being at the end of a long shift tolerated our review of the evening and punctuated it with his always funny wit. Kirra, Shelley and Sheila showed up for a bit, but it was soon time to get the Belle of the Ball home before she pumpkined on me.

On our way home we had a lesson in how quickly life changes, and that is as fast as a snap of the fingers. But that's a story for another time. Suffice to say I'm happy we weren't in the Boxster.

Dancing and dining, laughing and meeting new friends, deliciously decadent desserts, and some truly touching conversation made this Fairytale evening a night I will never forget.

Photo Realism and Meeting my Heroine

2005-02-21T19:44:00.000-08:00

Where to Begin? There have been days and days since the last posting, and frankly longer since I've really even thought about this little enclave I'm so trying to discipline myself to use. I could not, however, pass up the opportunity to recap the past couple of weeks.

On a Thursday evening not long ago my dear friend Jane invited me to attend an evening of Art Appreciation. Though I was sick as a dog, weak and faded from the flu that has been going around, we decided it was just too nice an opportunity to miss. We ponied up and went into the city to attend a showing of Robert Bechtle's works on paper at Crown Point Press, right around the corner from the MOMA.

As a very recent inductee into the world of modern and contemporary art, I am in a state of constant vesseldom... that is, I approach each of these experiences as an empty vessel to be filled with new knowledge, awareness and (hopefully) appreciation. Art, like Wine, is a personal thing, and yet also like wine, a little education goes a long way towards enhancing one's experience and appreciation. One of Jane's favorite things is the speculation and appreciation of Art, mostly modern and contemporary, but her knowledge base is vast and extends (so far as I've found) everywhere.

It was a lovely evening despite my inability to remain standing too long (a glass of Cab or two certainly helped keep me on my feet.... and that's hardly ever the case). We went to the show at Crown Point and then promptly whisked ourselves around the corner to the MOMA where my good friend Kirra was volunteering that night. The event, as it happened, was the Member's night opening of a Bechtle retrospective. Fabulous. Innumerable works, superb display and room arrangement, and the chance for me to bump into friends and gaze at Bechtle's fascinating art. Needless to say, before long I realized if I wasn't home in bed quickly the floor around me would soon suffice; so we left.

The following Thursday was to hold new, even more pleasant surprises. Jane again had the generosity to invite me to an evening at the home of some friends of hers who live in Sea Cliff. They were hosting an evening known as the Collector's Forum. Basically it is a group of very wealthy people who in one way or another support the art and museum world. Most are benefactors of the MOMA and all are collectors of some degree. I asked if we could also invite my Art History professor, Deborah Loft, who is one of the most inspiring and quality teachers I've ever had. She kindly accepted our invitation and the three of us were the first ones there.

Walking in the door, Jim and Jean's home was striking from the moment. An original, and I say beautiful, Claude Monet hung above the fireplace, and the entry was adorned by a Neri sculpture in Marble. The guest of honor on this night was... you guessed it, Robert Bechtle, come to show some slides and spill the beans on his technique and some history of his career. What I discovered just the day before was that there was a chance that his wife, one of my current Heroines, might also be there.

She was. So I met and spoke with Whitney Chadwick, author of Women, Art and Society, the text we used two semesters ago in our History of Art by Women course. The slide show was great, but the chatting with Whitney and Robert afterwards was even more enlightening. After some delicious tiny warm chocolate cakes (I had three), the three of us jumped in Deborah's car and made our way back across the GG.

I have found myself in the last few weeks, moving in circles I didn't even know existed. I have taken it on as an opportunity to educate myself via experience, to encounter kinds of people who live very different lives and involve themselves daily in very different endeavors than I. It is a world I'm not sure I'd ever be entirely comfortable in; a little to much attention paid to what others are looking like and doing, and not enough attention paid to who those people actually are, but I am with a good friend who knows the ropes well and isn't afraid to just pull me right along to the next big adventure....

Speaking of which... Next Saturday promises to be the icing on the proverbial cake.

For Those Who Know....

2005-02-04T19:12:00.000-08:00

Saturday, February 5th sees the closing night of a much loved event! Foundation, the monthly beat fest put on at The Endup and featuring 3 all-time favorites, is finishing up at least, as they say on the website, "for now...."

So come one, come all, wear your sexiest but bring your towels and prepare to dance your butt off all night. $10 at the door before 11p, and well worth it...

Much love and thanks to Miguel, Julius and Jay-J, these evenings will be missed!

Ok, Wow

2005-01-23T13:55:00.000-08:00

Saturday night, January 22nd in San Francisco, CA and elsewhere I'm sure, was a fantastic evening to be out. Not only is it my beloved's 25th birthday, oh so many miles away, it also saw a night of dancing and fun to remember. And may I just send right off the bat, a big thanks to the parking gods, last night was just about ideal, thanks.

A quick rundown of the night would must include a deeelicious meal at Maya's house. She and Jim cooked Adrienne and I sautéed chicken and sweet potato burritos, and Jim made a tasty salsa. After dinner we played some cards, Adrienne napped, and then she and I picked up our friend Kajsa and headed into SF.

Scott Edmonds arrived home from his travels in Vietnam and further destinations on Friday. Despite the 30 plus hours of travel he was in top form when we saw him last night, tending bar at the The Globe restaurant on Pacific, if you can believe that. He looks fresh, healthy, serene, happy and positively bursting at the seams. It was overwhelming to see him. He served us some delicious cocktails and talk tales; just some small delights to tide us over.

An hour later and across town we entered the Catalyst cocktail lounge to meet up with friends celebrating Laura Gould's '30th' birthday. She was radiant and effervescing in the presence of many good friends. She, Kirra and Co. danced on the bar for all of us, and the $3 Laura's B-Day Orgasm was a hot seller. One pint and several hugs and kisses later we were out the door and on our way to the feature event...

Scuba Reunion came together again last night, and it was our latest arrival yet. Consequently, there was a damn line of more than 25 people waiting to get into Pink. Nothing compared to other clubs but just so annoying for us. Fortunately Giles saw us and moved us right up to the door and we were in and grooving. Miguel was on as we came in, and J served us some poison plus 4 pink shots.

The music and the vibe were both incredible. Outstanding beats had the dancefloor flowing. Gaurav popped in for awhile, and we saw bunches of other friends all enjoying themselves immensely. Another resident there, Monna, kicked it with on the dancefloor, his long dreds and fluid style helping us claim our space. My body was naught but elastic sinew as the music just poured through me continuously. These guys are so good, and every night with them witnesses house music history.

As the night pushed it's way into early morning, we were still going strong but feeling our feet and our tummies. (Yes, i DID just use the word 'tummies'). So around quarter to four or so, we said our thankyous to Franky, Miguel, and Mauricio, hopped in the car and hit Mel's for sandwiches and Sweet Caroline (oh, oh, oh!). Across the bridge through the fog, weary but elated, we made our way to warm showers and comfy beds; and to dreams of dancing in outer space.

Don't Miss....

2005-01-19T22:54:00.000-08:00

You all should know by now what Scuba Reunion means..... and also how much it sucks to miss it..... see you where the love is.....

It's Still Raining

2005-01-07T21:48:00.000-08:00

Hi there, this is just a quick request to the global weather service: I live at 37°57'N Lat. by 122°33'W Long. and it has been raining pretty much non stop for two weeks now. I would like to humbly suggest that perhaps it would be more efficient and beneficial if the annual rainfall for this region were dispersed throughout the year as opposed to coming continuously and all at once. My garden and my water bill would certainly also be appreciative.

She is Gone

2004-12-30T03:45:00.000-08:00

So I am once again alone in a house built for more than just me. The New Years party I never intended to have can't come soon enough for me, if only so that I can be surrounded by loved ones - however briefly. It is so difficult to say goodbye to someone you love. She worked for and won herself the first ever sebbatical leave from a job that doesn't allow that kind of thing. She chose to spend a year of her life away from everything she knows, just to see if this crazy thing with a boy from California might work out to be more than either of us ever thought possible.

And I thank her for that. She will never know the depth my gratitude runs, it is the single most trusting, selfless, and beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. We had a crazy time this year, it was a year of discovery for both of us. From seeing the national highlights of 4 states inside of two weeks, to purchasing black market documents in the interests of continuing education, Katja and I had more fun, adventure, strife, love, and epiphanical awakening than I thought possible for people our age.

2004 is a year for the books as far as I am concerned.

I don't know what is coming, or where I'm going, or where any one person I know will be even a week from now... nor do I know what familiar face out of my past will walk by me on the street (as has happened an uncanny number of times this week...), but i Know, wherever I go and what-so-ever I do in this world, I have a partner that time, distance and hardship cannot break from me -- nor I from her.

What DMB song are you?

2004-12-13T22:14:00.000-08:00

Say Goodbye

This quiz got me, hands down my favorite DMB song....

Holiday Thoughts

2004-12-12T20:11:00.000-08:00

This year of the Monkey has been a whirlwind, the world has seen tremendous change, as have the lives of individuals both near and far. It has been a year filled with joy and sorrow, Good times and also close calls, dear friends departing this world before their time, while new friends have come into my life like fresh bursts of wind across my face.

There is much to be thankful for, and maybe this message would have been better written a couple of weeks ago, but right now is the time when my thoughts have become cohesive. Strangely, this should be a time of happiness, when family comes together and friends return from travels. Somehow though, I feel removed from the gaiety around me, aside from one brave foray the day after Thanksgiving, I have avoided going out in public during the busy hours, and much of my time has been spent preparing for times that are not here yet instead of looking to the moment for satisfaction.

There are so many things I want to remember from this year. I have been lucky to have the love of my life with me almost the whole year, a gift whose worth has no measure, and for which I thank her for making possible with my whole heart. I have played homely host for new friends from lands abroad, and with them I had the opportunity to explore the lands near my home that I have never seen. It is easy to razz a friend who lives in Berlin for never having visited Paris, but now I understand a little this desire in we travelers to see lands afar before that which lies in our backyard.

We live in a beautiful land! I fulfilled a life long wish to bath beneath a towering waterfall this year, and seen many of the great natural wonders this firmament boasts. The long road, just when it seems to have finally come to an end, insists upon turning another corner and offering some new distant vista at which to aim; thus does my adventure continue to grow with the passing of time.

I want to remember my good friend, Jedidiah Brooks, who's passing from this world created a rift of emptiness in the hearts of many, for he was loved and respected by all who met him. He was a man who would always greet a friend as though years lay between them, when perhaps it was only yesterday that last I hugged him.

I want to remember my dear Aunt Catherine and Uncle Max, who too long ago left me here and continued on together. I think of them everyday, and if I had one wish for this christmas and every christmas hence, it would be to spend even one more day with them, laying in our bags by the fireside, with only the stars to hear us. You are sorely missed.

I miss friends who live a stone's throw from here, and I miss friends who's voices I have not heard for too long. Time is not getting easier to understand, even though with each day I have more experience with it than the last.

Days of joy have there been as well. Endless summer days and nights, one after the other after the next. Changing skies with changing latitudes, changing perspectives too. I have doggy love, and Hannah knows it. I am blessed with so many wonderful friends, you are all loved; I thank each of you, my life would be so much less bright without you.

In these days of change, it is sometimes best to look to one's own fences and neighbors, family and friends, and speak warm, kind words to strangers we meet. For it is only through love that we will know peace.

Happy Holidays to all.

I'm a Nerd (but just barely....)

2004-12-08T23:13:00.000-08:00

You are 55% geek

You are a geek. Good for you! Considering the endless complexity of the universe, as well as whatever discipline you happen to be most interested in, you'll never be bored as long as you have a good book store, a net connection, and thousands of dollars worth of expensive equipment. Assuming you're a technical geek, you'll be able to afford it, too. If you're not a technical geek, you're geek enough to mate with a technical geek and thereby get the needed dough. Dating tip: Don't date a geek of the same persuasion as you. You'll constantly try to out-geek the other.

Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

Eine Nachricht aus Kalifornien

2004-12-08T22:08:00.000-08:00

It has been a while since my last post, and in fact I have to say I am not altogether pleased with how I've been using this new found fun-ness called Blogger but, whatever man, it's the end of term and I'm up to my ears in it right now. IF I can get myself out of the semester without smelling like a horse stall I'll be happy (and lying on a beach in Baja for 10 days I might add....)

At any rate, for those english only folks out there, this one isn't for you....

Hallo meine Lieben aus Deutschland! Es ist jetzt sehr lange her seit unserem letzten Kontakt; und, muss ich sagen, ich vermisse alle euch ganz ganz viel. Ich bin jetzt in meinem Prufung zeit mit der Schule und ich habe keine Zeit und auch keine Lust zu tun was ich muss. Also, hier ist ein paar kleine Gruesse von mir.

Ich weiss wie kalt es ist jetzt in Deutschland, aber vielleicht die Bilder und meine Stimme aus diese Nachricht kann euch ein bisschen waermen. Ich denke an euch sehr oft, besonders an unsere Abenteuer von diesem Jahr. In einigen Wochen werdet ihr wieder eure Katja, oder Perle oder Katinka haben. Dann werde ich hier allein sein mit nur meine wunderschoener Erinnerungen. Ich muss Danke sagen, das Ihr den ganze weg hierher gekommen seit, um zu sehen woher der verrueckte kumpel aus Kalifornien kommt. Es war ein grosses Vergnuegen euch hier zu haben.

Also bleibt warm, und sag hallo zu alle Freunde wem ich habe vergessen (oder kein email adresse haben....)

Frohe Feiertage zu alle!

In Liebe,
p.

2004-11-16T10:30:00.000-08:00

It's that time again! This week sees the reunion of three SF favorites. Scuba, the underwater themed evening at Pink, SF goes off again this Thursday night. Miguel Migs, Mauricio Aviles and Franky Boissy will all be there to keep your feet groovin' and your heart bumpin'!

I Love San Francisco

2004-11-04T19:29:00.000-08:00

Foundation 2nd Anniversary!

I love Miguel Migs too. Some might say it is unhealthy for a self-assured, confident semi-heterosexual to have such feelings about another man, but I do. For how could I not love the person whose artistic efforts bring so much joy and love to the world we live in.

This Saturday sees the celebration of the second anniversary of Foundation. An evening of music and dance at The Endup in San Francisco, CA. Founded by Julius Papp, Miguel Migs and Jay-J, it promises to be one of the highlights of the season if not the year as well. Admission is only $10 before 11:30 and the party is definitely going to be off the hook.

A small (as of this moment small) group of us will be going to pay homage and revel the night away, please feel free to join us!

Things that are Not Fun

2004-11-02T09:00:00.000-08:00

Like my dog getting sprayed by a skunk right before bedtime, are not the sort of things I like to have happen. I let her out the back gate one last time before bed so she could pee and lo, she catches, kills but is first sprayed by - a skunk. Not much to do except put her in the shower and work on it for an hour before exiling her to the kitchen - every night for the next 2 weeks, which is about how long it will take before she stops smelling revolting. Thing is, for like at least a year from now, every time she gets wet that pleasant odor will return, hopefully it will serve as a reminder to her.

Damn Dog.

Learning Curves

2004-11-01T19:18:00.000-08:00

Mmmkay... Mostly the reason I was interested in starting this blog was to get some much needed opportunity to free-write. However as a seasoned IT dude with a background in coding and graphic design, learning to manipulate the blog code has become a challenge and crash course refresher in HTML and CSS and all that jazz.

So now that I've figured out how to link to other sites this is the official props post. This goes out to Jenne, the catalyst behind the creation of this Blog, and the woman who so long ago spun her well-loved LP by Deee-lite for all of us at the tender age of 14 or 15 in a Sea Ranch bungalow on night of adolescent discovery that I'll never forget.

Check out her site, she is above many others I know a true lover of life, love, friendship, dance, travel and thumpin' beats. She has moved away from us again, but since she is holding down the fort in South Beach, there is the promise of a road-trip in my future to check out her new digs.

California Loves Ya' J!

More Great Photos

2004-10-31T13:53:00.000-08:00

Click and Save baby!

Two Too Hot!!

Gaurav and Laura

Nightmare Jack

Yea Baby, Yea!

Are Boyscouts allowed to do this?

Oh Tooth Fairy....

The Dave

Kitty!

Mystery Man

The Devil at Work

Cut This Guy Off!!

Meow!

Hallowe'en Weekend Fun - Friday, October 29

2004-10-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

Our weekend started out in just the right way -- 7 hours of sitting in traffic and driving in circles around the Bay Area looking for the right costume materials. The Haight these days, incidentally, has got to be one of the most over priced commercial areas on the west coast. There were no deals to be had except at the Discount Fabric store from which we purchased 1/2 a yard of totally excellent sequined pink taffeta for less than the cost of a cappucino down the street.

By five o'clock in the afternoon we had been to Berkeley twice and San Francisco. Now we had a scant 4 hours to get our costumes ready. Mine was actually pretty easy - I am dressing up as a Nerd this year - no snide comments please, I heard them all last night. Katja's costume, on the other hand, required all 4 hours to finish. She is a disco queen this year (quelle surprise) and is sporting this totally extravagant and realistic afro wig we got in this freaky wig and mask shop on Hollywood Boulevard earlier this summer. BUT, she had no adequate pants.... So we purchased some cheap, cute black jeans at Crossroad's on Haight and I proceeded to create bell-bottomed flares out of them using the sequined taffeta.... they turned out great and I only stabbed myself with a holding pin once.

Adrienne came up from Santa Cruz for the night and was sporting a super-provocative outfit, both the ladies looked amazing and I was definitely the luckiest Nerd around. We hit this party in North Beach around 10:30p and it proceeded to go off; lots of friends and good food and drink, great costumes and - of course - Karaoke! We're going into the Castro on Sunday to see the freaks, but I gotta say, there were plenty of freaks gettin' down at Kirra and Shelley's last night!

Around 12:30a we split with some friends we picked up in tow and went across town to the DNA Lounge to hear our favorite DJ's spin. For those in the know, you'll know that right now in San Francisco, pretty much the best house music anywhere is being produced on a weekly basis. Some in larger clubs like DNA, but mostly the scene is happening in smaller venues where more intimate experiences can be had. Miguel Migs, Mauricio Aviles, and David Harness were on hand last night, dropping beats fit to give a person goosebumps. A special live, on-stage appearance by Lisa Shaw had everyone in the house melting from the soulful heat of her vocals. It was epic.

4:00a found us venting steam off our bodies on the sidewalk and contemplating how much more we could dance. As fall evenings go in San Francisco, it was a beauty. Still in costume, we all decided on one more foray inside and then quit for home.

With all the turmoil going on in the world right now, I sometimes have trouble having so much fun. Sometimes it doesn't seem fair while I and others are pouring our hearts on to the dance floor only to have them filled up again by incredible music and synergistic vibes, that there are people living in societies elsewhere in the world who will never have the opportunity to feel that way. Music is a catalyst in so many ways. Personally, life would be virtually unbearable without the presence of music in it. Out of any given 24 hours, the only ones that don't include music are the ones when I'm asleep or in the bathroom - and I'm planning on getting a CD player that can hang in my shower so then it'll just be up to my dreams to provide the continuing soundtrack I can't seem to live without.