Was too busy to write last week. I had work to contend with. 500 CDs to burn. A car to drive. Friends to see.

On that last note: I caught up with Yoga Gina. Well 'Yoga Gina' is a poor nick, all things considered. There is a well to draw from for sure, but it'll do. Anyhow, I dropped in on her intermediate Yoga Class. When she saw me she said, "Great. I need some excitement in my life'. When Yoga Gina says things like that, oil prices go up.

Well, she's hasn't been a wild one for some time. And she was allways more 'free' than wild , but she's got a three year old and a husband from whom she's separated. I met both of them when I picked her up later that night. We went to Twist for Sushi where she had her first 'cocktail' in years. It was a mojito, if you're wondering why I threw the quotes out there. We talked about the usual stuff: Which is to say, our conversation was frank and intersting. Most things come back to Yoga with her, but I suppose that's as it should be. She did say, at one point, "I avoid talking to politics [pause] but please explain how you could vote for Bush".    I remember her saying, after 9/11 that she was glad he was in office.    Yes, Yes, I know the narrative: How he blew the goodwill and how everyone was for the Afghanistan War but then, and then, and then.  But still, she did say it. As did a lot of people.

 After dinner we went to East Andrews (I forgot about me boycott) for a coctail then headed over to Cafe Intermezzo for some coffee drinks. My capuccino was terrible, but her chocolate concoction was pretty good. Things have sure changed when a Gina story ends at 1am with a cup of coffee. We didn't even play scrabble.

Manahtton beach, day one. Its 7:30 and I just got back from the boot camp. Compared to START in San Fran, this was a walk in the park. Sure, the 15 minutes of Crunches kicked my ass, but I don't need to spend 15 dollars a pop for that. 10 minutes of stretch, a 2 miles run, 15 minutes of Ab work. and lots of talking in between. I may have to find another.

Super busy right now, like I said. Been trying to come up with a consulting name. The best I could come up with was "Market Eight", which is completly mundane except for the Lebowski reference. Later, Dave, who was the least slowest of my friends to get the refence, stumbled upon the  'Next Frame' and the wise advice, "Just watch the movie and take notes".

Andrew Sullivan's coverage of the London bombing is great.

There is even a CS lewis quote in there.

 

 

Apparantly I should have headed Lileks advice, and not tried to write about the 4th of July.

Fine then. Now that everyone thinks I am a loon, I might as well try and sneak this through while you're all distracted. I found it when I was cleaning my old Laptop.

--------------------------------

It is, by my watch, noon pacific time, September 11th, 2002, and I am at my north-east facing desk trying to figure out how best to finish this day. The Employees of the MGM-Mirage Corporation are in the front Quad holding hands, while most of the visitor and denizens of Las Vegas a also participating in some sort of public remembrance of the this day, one year ago. Its quiet in here, which suits my present mood fine except for the fear that some people might question my patriotism and compassion, by not participating in the group hug downstairs. But those who know me know I have devoted most of the year to a robust form of Patriotism. I havn't changed much in the last few years except now the Pledge Brings Tears to My Eyes. Now, I –feel- New York in the North East, Now I neither comprehend nor tolerate moral relativism. Three years Ago I wrote that we should Vote For Bush because "America Rocks", and this year I have lost my patience for those who feel the need to qualify that statement. I would like to spend the rest of the day alone. I would like to be free to consider the lives we have lost to unchecked evil. I would to retreat to my Hotel Room with a bottle of wine and plan. Plan a better way to convince people of the existence of Good and Evil. I would devise a Strategy to help confront people, and persuade them that we did not have this coming, and that our Anger is justified, and the world will be better for it. But mostly I want to just take time-out. A friend Advises against this strategy, suggesting instead that we should all just keep Buggering on. I tend to agree with him that we could do without all this structured hand holding, but the only way this day will truly ‘commemorate’ what has happened is if we are pursuing our enemies before it is over. As long as those who finance and otherwise encourage terror are being engaged as statesmen and leaders, instead of Evil Virii, this day will be lost. I would like to about my day as usual, except for a brief nod to the North-east, secure in my knowledge that The evening news won’t contain footage of some vigil at Ground Zero, but instead footage of a Crator where Sadam Hussein met his fate.

I arrived in Witchita Kansas Friday night, a little after one. I had read half of State of Fear on the way in, and read a few more chapters waiting for the airport to find someone to offload my bag. Expect a incisive review at any moment.

Once I got on the road, Route 96 heading north west to Great Bend, I made great time the central Kansas countryside. This isn't the part of Kansas that really speaks to me, but the twin thunderstorms to the west lit up enough wheatfields and grain elevators to remind me of the west end. An  average summer Lightstom in Kansas is more spectacular than all those I have seen elsewhere.  Maybe thats not fair. Lets call Kansas the Bordeoux of thunderstorms and leave it at that.  

 

Not a lot of trafic in central Kansas at 3 am, just the truckers, a bobcat, and a coyote. The coyoto didn't look like I had expected. I had expected something more shaggy, like the one in Dances with Wolves. But maybe that wasn't a coyote- I hypothosized later.

On Sunday a hailstorm came through, and a couple of tornados hit the surrounding areas. We rushed to the dealership and parked 17 uninsured vehicles in the shop and then met up with Grandma in the basement.  When the hail hit it was pea to penny sized and driven hard, but it didn't do any damage besides stripping wheat, none of whch we owened. I  hope the three triplet fawns we saw found suitable cover.  

Jerry and I won 4 straight games of 6 person pitch. I wish I could say we were gracious winners but after the whupping we took at shuffleboard....

On the fourth we lit firecrackers for 9 hours. My cousin's husband, Dune, who still had a 16,000 flash cracker and a 100 shot rocket system to fire, was up for another three earning chief launcher honors.

I launched the first flasher, to much fanfare. Jerry's ''big boomers' are still the crowd favorite, but Dune and I might have started a new tradition when we threw one of everything into a box and lit it on fire. If it wen't mixed comany I would have called the creation 'the bitch', cause after the intitial hellish inferno she popped off for a hour . I'd say we did around 700 dollars worth of ordinance, which was economical by Great Bend Standards.

After 7 hours of firecrackers, you learn to appreciate the simple black cats.  By nightfall each toss was accompanied with a little chuckle that says, amongst other things, just how gratefull we all are to be where we are. Yeah, I believe that. I believe its more than simple entartainment, or just a potlatch with sound, its more of a 50,000 gun salute to those who came before us. The more simple cracker the better that point is driven home. It also helps if you can scare the bejesus out of someone.

A one point some friends drove by in a truck, luring the unsuspecting reveller to approach it offering food, only to find 300 black cats and a short fuse burning at his feet.

Driving back to the homestead at 11, I couldn't distinguish  the city's profesional from  all home-bought fare being set free.   

What a country. What country, I could say, too.

 

 

 

Alex stumbled upon a list of titles for groups of animals.   I was already aware of this list, and am a bit  disapointed, since I had been keeping that knowledge in my back pocket in hopes of winning a few bets.

Oh well. 

I think Bloggers should be added to the list.  "A Blather of Bloggers" sounds good to me. I assume by posting this to my website, I am entitled to royalties as the term inevitably enters the public concious.

I have allways found that list to be poetic.  There is a lesson there on how to describe things in a non-linear fashion.  I mean, c'mon,  a 'bask' of crocodiles, or 'bloat' of hippos.    That's good stuff.

 

 

 

I got to Solstice five minutes early, but didn’t walk around the block to kill time for fear that my friends might also be early.  It wouldn’t do to have them seeing me walking around like I was lost.

 

Hey, they have Miller’s Gin! 

 

They also have the best fish tacos and sweet potato fries that that I have had in the city.  The Fish taco is of the fancy variety, besting other shmancy places like Rica.   The sweet potato fry knocks out Taylor’s Automatic Refresher.  

 

I also ordered the Mac n’ Cheese, which was inferior to Delissio, but that could just be  a matter of taste.  (Yes, I guess you’re right, it’s all a matter of taste).

 

None of this changes the top 10  Pound for Pound rankings though, which remain.

 

1. Tomato Soup at Jeanty
2. Ricotta Dumpling at Absynth
3. Hamburger at Absynth
4. Bread Pudding at Frascatti
5. Pork Tenderloin at Frascatti
6. Steak Tar-Tar at Bix
7. Tuna tar-tar at Michael Mina
8. Muscle Shooter at Sushi Groove South
9. Carne Asada Taco   at La Taquiria
10. Meatloaf at Delissio

 

Honorable Mention:    Cup of Coffee at Blue Bottle,  Tamale Lady’s cheese tamale at Zeitgeist,  Pistachio-heath Milk Shake at Taylor’s, Lobster Corndog at Mina, Foi-Gras at Mina, Carnitas Taco Nicks way at Nicks Crispy tacos.

 

 

I thought I was flying out today, but it turns out that my flight is on Friday night.  So now it’s Thursday and I have no plans.  This has only become uncommon recently. 

 

So its Kansas jul2-5, Atlanta 6-10, Manhatton Beach 11-aug7. Vegas Sept 3^rd, Breckenridge December 28^th

 

The shuffle-board trash talking in increasing.   Little do they know that my Aunt’s place in Kansas has one.   Heck, after this week I should be able to take on my nemesis, Dr. Bernice, who cleaned my clock at Austin City Limits last year. 

 

Speaking of that, who’s going?

 

Colleen says hi.

I had a Pimm’s and Ginger Beer at her Foreign Cinema bar before going over to Doc’s Clock to teach a Shuffle Board lesson.   The board was closed because a band was setting up in the back.    A five piece band whose name I never caught playing big band swing softly over tom waitts horns and percussion. 

Which was mildly coincidental considering that I had sent out this WhiskeyTown referencing Guy Clark Lyric earlier in the day.

 

William Butler Yeats in jeans

Got up to play guitar and sing

In some joint in Mission Beach last night

At the door sat Tom Waits

In a pork pie hat and silver skates

Jugglin' three collection plates Jesus Christ

 

Townes Van Zandt standin' at the bar

Skinnin' a Hollywood movie star

Can't remember where he parked his car

Or to whom he lost the keys

Full of angst and hillbilly haiku

What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do

Go on rhyme somethin' for em' man

Show him how you really feel

 

And then there I was in the mission listening to a horn section that used to play with ol’ Tom.

Bruno’s was my original target, but they are closed due to change of ownership.   I think the fascists closed them down.  Seriously.  Literally.   The night I saw “The People” play there was their last night.  “The People”, despite theirr name, are a Che loving roots reggae band. Who’s more fascist than Che?

 

I don't know, I'm asking.

The new big bend pictures are up.  feel free to add comments directly to the album.   

The only thing keeping the guys at 3QuarksDaily from setting off the Posuer Alerts is that they are really smart.  That, and well placed ice-cream cone imagery.

This dialectic between land and human life achieved its material synthesis, in my eyes, in a series of barns I passed on Route 191, between Grassy Creek and Campton. Still functioning, they had become torqued and twisted with age and environmental punishment, their metal roofs sliding off into the dirt like ice cream slipping from a cone in the sun. Their walls had shifted without giving way, and structures that had once been square had gone feral, turning rhomboid and parallelogram. Most were engaged in an agon with a riotous vine that held them in a death grip while waiting for a nearby tree to drop a limb and deliver the coup-de-grace.

My curiosity was piqued at first, but by the sixth of these barns my aesthetic sensibility was fully aroused and I began naming them as I passed: “Entropy: 1, 2 and 3.” “Time’s Arrow.” Squaring the Circle.” “Elvis Has Left the Building.” “A Practical Application of Non-Euclidean Geometry.” “In Advance of a Broken Neck.” “Waiting for Damocles.” “Unintentional Consequence.”

He does stretch a little bit when he compares living under the poverty line to living in hell.  But it's nice prose, none-the-less.

 

 

 

Liam Neeson got his first lead as Darkman,  played Oscar in Shindler's list, outworked Gibson's Braveheart as the  Roth-splitting Rob Roy.   He was the only Character in the lastest Star Wars Trilogy to out act the CGI yoga, and now he plays Batman's mentor in Batman Begins.

I like Liam Neeson.

I also like the Cowboy Junkies.  Contrary to what anyone might say to the contrary, the two best albums they have done are Lay it Down and Pale Sun, Crescent Moon.  

More on that later. Gotta go to work.

 

Lileks on Woody Allen

Without the ability to make moral distinctions based on motive, consequences, the ethical constructs of various parties, everything is equal, and you end up with people like Woody Allen: a tiny speck of compacted narcissism, revolving around the dead sun in an empty universe. What’s left? Well, thank heavens for little girls.

Not that there’s a heaven.

I noticed a strange rainbow pattern across the face of my cell phone saturday morning.   Sunday I noticed the same pattern on my Ipod.  What had happened friday, that ruined both pieces of electronics?  A gravity wave, ozone depletion, magnetic pole shifts?  

After I half day of of pondering, I hung my head down in defeat, and took my new sunglasses off to wipe my furrowed brow..... and that fixed the problem.

 

 

Someone needs to color up the Harris-maussa fight. This is the best I have seen so far, but it only scratches the surface of the insanity.

 

 

I should have known this weekend would be a strange one. It all started thursday night, after dinner. I was watching my date eat a donut hole, when she said of guy eating an eclair, "That Guy's Donut is bigger than me hole". To say this unintentionally.... I have no words.

Friday I took a half-day to get a haircut that was so good she couldn't finish it. Again, I am not resorting to figures of speech, or otherwise embellishing the story. She said, "I really need to straighten it up around the ears, but I just can't continue. Its overwhelming" .   

This reminds me of the much loved Kids in the Hall sketch where Bruce ejects the 8 track from his beater car exclaiming, "I just can't listen to it while I'm driving. Its that good". We have all made that jest about music, or food.... but the haircut took the cake. And she was getting PAID. That's awesome!

As was the haircut.  Glenda showed the 'mad-skills' she boasted about between cat-calls from her friends M.G. on Jackson. If you want a hair cut from someone who's passionate about hair, go see her at Acabello Salon, on California and Filmore.

Saturday night my dinner at Rica was interupted by a phone call: "We're sending a car, do you want a lincoln or a limo?" Despite the callers' assurances, I was going to have to pay for this ride myself so I said "Lincoln", and 15 minutes later one was out front, driving me to a house party in South San Francisco. Turns out the Limo would have been free. I had outthunk myself.

After the party I ran into a UGA alumni who says that the Bus Stop is the Bulldog Nation's San Francisco Headquarters. That's good to know.

The next morning the Beach Crew called me and said , "where are you", I told them eating bagel on Polk and Broadway", they said "hold on". Two seconds later an unknown woman says to me, "Are you sean? Get in" and I'm now in an Audi driving to the beach with 4 people I don't know. We ended up meeting Heather in the marina and travlling onto Lake Lagunita for a picnic.

The driver was mostly deaf in his right ear, which got me wondering if when you want someone who is deaf in his right ear to turn left, can  you just say , "Hey, Come here!"? And if you want him to move right, qucikly, you could just scream, "RUN!!!!"

No one in the car thought I was funny either.

Later that day I caught the fights. Vivian Harris looked ill after the first half of the first round. By the 5th his opponent, Muassa, was clowning around with him.  Harris was supposed to kill this guy in order to gain the 'respect' he has claimed he rightfully deserved, but instead he was being made to look foolish by the goofy Maussa. By the time Harris was knocked out I was done thinking he was getting his just deserts and was instead feeling sorry for him. And then Muassa hit him again, while he was sleeping peacefully on the mat, which wasn't very Christian. What a strange fight.

The main fight, between Floyd Mayweather and Arturro Gatti was an eyeopener. Most people correctly thought it was going to be a mismatch, but this was masterclass display by Floyd. Floyd is amazing. I'm not sure if anyone can beat him. Gatti couldn't find the corner after the 6th, and had yet to land a punch.

Gay Pride (not my own), the misty weather, a dead cellphone, and lost house keys conspired to ruin the rest of the night.

Its sunday now. I can't decide if I want to go shopping or play soccer. Soccer is the obvious choice, but I hate taking a taxi all the way to Golden Gate park. Who knows what today will bring. OR, as Bill waterson signed off "Lets go exploring"