Congratulations Golden State Warriors!

Maaaan, watta team. I stopped watching the Warriors many years ago because it was too painful for my delicate psyche, but I'm so glad I finally tuned in because this team was poetry on the court. Lovely people passing the ball with lightning-quick precision. Those charming three-pointers, impeccable defense (I have a thing for defense) and all-around team camaraderie. A+ sportsmanship, charm and coaching smarts. This year's Warriors had it all and then some (Riley Curry—mega-star).

And a special mention of my cousins, Gary, Barb and their daughter, Jamie, who've been season-ticket holders for decades—true fans who patiently and with good grace waited for this and are deservedly very happy tonight. Cheers!

"Kung Fu" - A Play About Bruce Lee Features Dance, Drama

A new play called Kunt Fu, about the early career of Bruce Lee and featuring dance and martial arts has opened off-Broadway at New York City's Signature Theater. Written by David Henry Hwang (M. Butterfly, Golden Child), this has been a 20-years-in-the-making production. Dance, martial arts, Bruce Lee - I would pay top dollar for this (if I had top dollars to spend, that is).



- New York Times review

Cole Horibe stars as Bruce Lee and may be familiar to viewers of So You Think You Can Dance, season nine .

Fresh Stereotypes for Athletic Mascots - Get 'em Here

It's time for Native American mascots to be retired. There's no excuse in the 21st century for athletic organizations to insist that due to tradition and other bullshit reasons, their racist naming and logo practices can't be updated and improved. They can and they should. Because stereotypes are crude, derogatory and disrespectful. Nobody wants to be a cartoon character, or referred to as a group by an insulting misnomer from the 19th century when death and destruction were sanctioned by the U.S. government.

A simple rule of thumb: don't appropriate tribal imagery for your franchise. It's actually easy to be decent about this, and much more difficult to go out of your way to carry on this disgusting practice. Still not sold? What if I offer up some fresh, new stereotypes for teams? That way I'm providing a solution—not just taking away a "tradition."

Who's first? How about Chief Wahoo, the Cleveland Indians' cartoon mascot who looks like he's about to be bonked by an anvil at any given moment? What if we replaced him with, I don't know... a cartoon white guy, perhaps? How about a stereotypical kind of guy, but one who means business? I'm talking about Waldo Weatherbee, principal of Riverdale High in Archie Comics. True, Mr. Weatherbee is obese, bald and fairly grouchy at times, but he's also helpful to students and a former Marine. He's sure to make a great mascot for the newly named Cleveland Anglos!

Before and after: what do you think? I like Mr. Bee's pink skin tones, don't you?

Next: The Washington Redskins. It's hard for me to even type that name—makes me feel dirty.

Perhaps a more current white-man image might help balance the scales on this one. How about an ode to office jockeys who toil from nine to five, then spend evenings and weekends cheering their team? I give you, The Washington Whiteskins. Thumb's up, Biff! (I call him Biff.) He means business!

What about the Atlanta Braves? Their fans just love to Tomahawk Chop the game away, waving their giant sponge movie-stereotype weapons and chanting like they're in an early-50s' John Wayne shoot-em-up. Am I going to take away their right to behave like insensitive assholes on national TV? No way! I'm solutions-based, and then some.

I give you: The Wine-spritzer Toast, modeled here by Ted Turner. I bet he loves a good wine spritzer. Imagine a full stadium, toasting their team in the most encouraging fashion: Tally-Ho! Pip pip!

Paula Deen's ready to promote some fresh new stereotypes.

She Mob - Luge

From She Mob's album, "Cancel the Wedding," comes Luge. The 1998 Winter Olympics were happening, Joy had a riff, and I suggested we sing a chorus of "LUGE!" and not much else. Joy came up with the nonsensical words for the verses. I told her to try and make them sound Norwegian. I was really into the Winter Olympics. She did that. I backed her up with a bunch of Yeah Yeah Yeah's, and here it is. It's one minute long: Luge.



Footage from the Prelinger Archives.

Rivendell Bike Book & Hatchet - Walnut Creek's Weirdest Store

It says so right on the sign.

A little context: Rivendell Bicycle Works is a unique company, making steel-frame bikes with tender loving care since 1994. Rivendell has always worked on old-fashioned principles of communication and hand-crafting and as such, the owner, Grant Petersen, has been writing his own newsletter since the company formed. If I were to summarize his bicycle philosophy, I would say: ride a bike like when you were a kid. Have fun, be comfortable, ride with friends, put stuff in your bike basket and head out.

Rivendell Bike Book & Hatchet is Rivendell's new store in downtown Walnut Creek that displays their bikes, has a wonderful selection of classic children's literature (including Edward Lear's A Book of Nonsense—a must-have), and hatchets—a wall of them. And you can split some wood at the store so you're assured of buying the right hatchet for your household.

All around the store hang these little signs, made of wood and twine, written with what must be a wood-burning kit, like you got for Christmas in 1974. This sign is in the front window and reads: average daily sales for the first 20 days of operations were, like, about $352...which, of course, isn't exactly sustainable—but, you know, things will, pick up as we get closer to hatchet season—which runs from Thanksgiving to Father's Day, which you know, generally arrives mid-June.

This is probably my favorite store sign of all time. It's so honest and straight-forward and optimistic.

Jackson models next to Rivendell's antique typewriter. You can type out suggestions on index cards and post them to the bulletin board, which promises to answer all suggestions—eventually.

I confidently stepped up to the typewriter to compliment the store on its book selection and to suggest some Jane Austen in the future. I learned on a typewriter much like this, so I had no fear. But this typewriter was a doozy. I had to really punch those keys. I ended up index-fingering it, like a newspaper reporter in a pre-code movie. But I managed to get through it and it was a satisfying form of communication.

So what can we take away from this shopping experience? Well, everyone at Rivendell is really, really nice. They gave Jackson a fine Frisbee that is now one of our favorites. They tried not to charge Keith for some IVO lip balm, but Keith insisted on paying. Maybe they felt bad about running out of pine tar soap. Grant thinks they might be the largest distributor of pine tar soap in the U.S. They're getting more—don't worry.

Anyway, shopping should be personable, fun, and sometimes weird, and this store covers all its bases nicely. And the books are great. I hope they get a bigger selection, because any store that promotes Robert McCloskey's Blueberries for Sal wholeheartedly is a good neighborhood store indeed.

Rivendell also has a bike showroom in Walnut Creek and you can test-ride bikes there. The new Bike Book & Hatchet is throwing a Grand Opening celebration December 14th: details. This very pleasant video introduces the people who make up Rivendell.



Disclosure: we've known Grant for a long time, though we really need to see more of him. I'm glad his presence has made its way downtown. Grant's Blog.

All the way with the Oakland A's - Superfan Roundup

The Oakland Athletics have made the grade once again. Congratulations, AL West Champs! And now the playoff series begins. Here is a fine team to root for with excellent team dynamics, plenty of charisma, humor and humility. And superfans with enough time on their hands to go the extra mile for their team. Photos below.

I'm not going to write a bunch of facts on the A's. Looks like big media is finally picking up on their story, after the entire season has almost come to an end—right on time. The A's, as Rodney Dangerfield would say, don't get no respect. I hope they win and win big because they're more than deserving. When I watch the A's, I'm reminded of the spirit of baseball—that almost magical alchemy that comes from the field of good play, good intentions, good heart and of course, ability.

Hat's off.

Big-head A's racers - like Mardi Gras every home game

A crafty superfan - make this with items you find around the house

I hope this guy's a real fireman and not just pretending - still, good helmet

The dream parade

Almost scary, but mostly absurd

And these guys... A+

Any team that has Coco Crisp is a worth rooting for.

COCO! COCO! COCO!

All-American Girls Professional Baseball League AAGBL Trading Cards

The All-American Girls Professional Baseball League was the first (and so far only) women's professional baseball league in America. It could only have happened during World War II, when baseball's reserves were depleted due to the draft and fighting overseas. From 1943 to 1954, the AAGPBL gave women a limited chance for a viable career in baseball, and gave fans something novel to cheer about. You may have seen the documentary, or the film it inspired, A League of Their Own—a snappy, fictionalized account, directed by Penny Marshall and featuring gum-chawing Madonna.

Today I found my little stack of AAGPBL trading cards. They're dated 1984 and I can't figure out who issued them because I tossed out the original packaging. I remember a brochure with an attached order form, back in the pre-Internet days. Where I found this brochure or whether these are an official AAGPBL product, I can't say. Some sleuthing has revealed these factoids:

• A.A.G.B.L. Cards were issued from an address near Kalamazoo, MI (Marcellus, MI, to be exact). 
• Four sets of commemorative cards were published: 1984 (red set), 1986 (blue set), 1988 (green set), and 1990 (yellow set). I have the 1984 red set, as you see below.
• Approximately 85 cards in all were published—now out of print. (I wonder if these are worth anything—no matter, they are precious to me and you'll have to pry them from my cold, dead hands.)

The AAGPBL has an active organization to this day and they endorse cards issued by Fritsch. So if you're interested, check that trading-card action out.

Meanwhile, as an excitable announcer once intoned, "Look at these swinging, catching, base-stealing lassies!"




Fun AAGBL facts: league owner Philip K. Wrigley insisted the teams play in dresses, despite the fact that only a masochist would slide into base with bare legs. The ladies slid anyway, because they were tough—tough like IRON. A salute to the many who suffered scrapes and contusions while playing ball.

The ladies were also required to attend charm school to ensure maximum All-American-Girl behavior on and off the field. This training included exercises for the eyes that would enhance their sparkle and allure (important traits when fielding a grounder). 

For more than a decade, 600 women played for the AAGPBL—pioneers in short skirts in American athletic history. Hail!

Cool flip-side stats:

Known for her cartwheeling ways in the outfield,  Dancer was also a power hitter and an entertainer.

Billed as Chattanooga's only girl boxer ("It was just a promotional stunt," said Hickson), Choo Choo was a leading hitter and would have played ball for nothing.

The player Shirley Jameson admired the most in the big leagues was Jackie Robinson.

Some more:

I don't know what you have to do to earn the nickname, "Slats," but whatever it is, it's worth it.

Oakland A's 1969 Turn-Back-The-Clock Day Playlist

It was 1969 Day at the Oakland Coliseum. This is a marketing situation where uniforms are authenticated from the by-gone era, making modern-day players look quaint and even more baseball-y than usual. There was no such thing as walk-on music for batters in 1969, but we live in a time in history when music is pumped into our very brain cells whether we want it or not. So the A's roster got to pick their walk-on music from days gone by. The pre-game hosts explained that most of the players were too young to be familiar with the music from 1969, except for James Brown or Creedence Clearwater Revival, but once they heard it, they were quoted thus, "That sounds kind of familiar..." and "Oh, my DAD used to play this!"

*sigh*

Anyway, There was barely any hitting until the A's pulled it out in the bottom of the seventh inning, eventually beating the Angels 3 -1 - HA! And a win for starting pitcher Tommy Milone.

In the meantime, I entertained myself by noting the walk-on music that was hand-picked by the batting order. I figure someone grasping for music from before his time would be letting us into a little window of his mind. Maybe even more so than with modern music picks. What do you like from the distant past that has nothing to do with you personally? It's gotta grab ya. Who picked what? Let's find out!

Lead-off batter, Josh Donaldson, went all hippie-dippie, perhaps knowing that his at-bat would set the tone for 1969 Day. By the way, the franchise encouraged people to dress as if it was 1969, but advised everyone to "go easy on the tie-dye, Moonbeam." Well, guess what? Out of 33,000 fans, approximately two dressed up: Keith wore a paisley shirt that used to be my Dad's (a day of Dad stuff), and I wore a loose, flowing top. Thank God I didn't wear my flower skirt--that would have been really embarrassing. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes...

Josh Donaldson - For What It's Worth by Buffalo Springfield (plus bonus Neil Young doing Mr. Soul, because that's even cooler). Josh Donaldson--next time pick Neil Young and maybe you'll get hot again.




Coco Crisp - It's Your Thing by The Isley Brothers. Coco Crisp is one of the coolest players in the Major League, and this just seals the deal. Everyone loves Coco and everyone loves the Isley Brothers—a great combination.




Eric Sogard - The Lion Sleeps Tonight by The Tokens. Eric Sogard's got nerd power and this song just proves it. Every time he came up to bat, we giggled good-naturedly. Good vibes!




Jed Lowrie - Grazing in the Grass by Friends of Distinction. Jed Lowrie's got it going on, choosing this big hit that might be about cows having a good munch, or maybe people smoking their brains out—plus he got a RBI—I can dig it!




Derek Norris - Communication Breakdown by Led Zeppelin. Turns out Zeppelin may have been key to the A's success today. Norris got a pinch-hit two-run homer, giving the A's the lead in the seventh. Because, like Zeppelin, he RAWKS.




As for closing pitcher, Grant Balfour, he seems to have missed the memo on 1969 Day. He'll be sticking to his Metallica, thank you very much. Don't mess with success.

Elegy for the San Francisco Giants

New low for the Giants — a 16-inning loss to the Mets

Now it’s October and where did it go?

Spring’s expectations so high;  autumn’s reality so low

It was a Summer of failure, of a team’s dysfunctional plight

A summer that turned into “A Long Day’s Journey into Night”

Not even Eugene O’neill could have authored this Giant distortion

Nay, this baseball tragedy is bigger, one of Shakespearean proportion

Now it’s October and we wonder where it went

The season known as “The Summer of our discontent” 

                                                                     -Richard McElroy


***

My Dad, a true Giants fan since he moved to San Francisco from Detroit, 50 years ago, is really suffering this season. He tends toward optimism when it comes to baseball, but the Giants have fallen so very far since their World Series championship, when was it—a year ago?  

Oh, Giants, do not go gently into the night! Especially when playing a 16-inning heartbreaker with the Mets. And certainly not during a Dodgers series. And definitely not when you fail to score in more than seven innings. Look what you've driven my Dad to do—write an elegy, based in the month of October, and it's only July! Now is the time, Giants. SEIZE YOUR MOMENT on the field of play. Now that people aren't wearing those stupid panda hats so often, NOW IS THE TIME.

At least I have the A's. My Dad, locked into his San Francisco fandom, can't say the same.

49ers San Francisco Represent

My dream team. In my dreams...

Update: Oh dear, it was not to be. Congratulations, Baltimore Ravens—well played. And a toast to Beyonce's all-lady band, The Suga Mamas, especially to you, lead pyrotechnic guitar, as seen here at the 3:10 mark. If only the 49ers had been on fire as well.

Lance Armstrong Radiohead "Creep" remix

I had to cram all that in to the title and I didn't even credit the maker of this gem. It's by Matthijs Vlot who likes to mish-mash it up. Watch Lance Armstrong recite Creep by Radiohead under Oprah's withering scrutiny. It's not like you have anything better to do, right?



When I hear Americans exclaim, "Who cares about the Lance Armstrong doping scandal?! Nobody cares about bike racing anyway," I want to shake them soundly. A large chunk of the human population around the world cares about bike racing and about bicycling in general, including my family, so up yours, centrist Americans!

Lance Armstrong not only cheated to win seven straight Tour de France titles, he made sure that anyone who didn't want to pump harmful substances in their bodies, or who accused him of doping, would never have a career in cycling. It was like a second full-time job for him—trouncing his competition on and off the course. A liar, a cheat, and a scoundrel. He's not the first—just one of many—and nothing special whatsoever.

San Francisco Giants Sweetheart Pillows

I've got a World Series hangover, I don't want to get over (see Diana Ross, circa 1976). Part of it is regional—born and kind of raised, and mostly from San Francisco. And part of it is coming from a family of genuine Giants fanatics (they won't attend even one A's game due to the trouncing the Giants took from Oakland in 1989). Another Giants World Series win in three years is sweet victory for geographical identification and familial unity purposes.

But it's much more than that. It's the perfection of the Giants' defense, which is like 3-2-1 poetry in motion on nearly every play. It's the confidence that can only come from a dream-team of pitchers, their relievers and their closers, who march to the mound, looking like mere mortals, but pitch like Mt. Olympus Gods (if they had a pitching roster). It's the epic rise and come-back of Pablo Sandoval's hitting and Barry Zito's pitching, which is a story unto itself.

And, let's face it: Giants are hotties. So hot, in fact, that I'm currently designing prototype sweetheart pillows featuring your 2012 World Series Champions. All I need is the proper legal permissions and manufacturing contracts. Take a look and see if there's a place in your home decor for these hot, hot professional sports guys.

Barry Zito is so hot that even my brother has a little crush on him. But only after his incredible come-back games, of course. Before this season, he was an expensive cautionary tale in too much too soon. Now look at him: Hawt, and so confident on the mound. Barry's back, as this sweetheart pillow will attest.

Shortstops are stars and Brandon Crawford is no exception. He's close to perfection on so many plays, making one of the toughest positions look almost effortless. Plus he's hawt.

Pablo! Or Panda, as he is so often called. He's a hitter, not a quitter. MVP of the series—congratulations, sir.

Confession: Sergio Romo is my favorite Giant. He's small, unassuming, excitable, adorable. And then he steps up to the mound and like a surgeon, whips the ball past the American League's best hitters. In every game he played in. This man is an artist. A great artist of baseball.

Buster Posey is truly the sweetheart of the team. All the girls (and boys) like Buster. He's a catcher who never complains (rare), a great defense player who's also a fantastic hitter (even rarer). He was "on" just in time in game four. Huzzah.

Pitchers! We got pitchers! We got lots and lots of...that's right: pitchers. The Giants pitching is still going strong. Tim Lincecum struggled aplenty but re-found his footing as an excellent reliever. Matt Cain pitched a perfect game this season and remains one of the steadiest arms in pro ball. I'm putting Brian Wilson in there too as ultimate team cheerleader this season. Out with an injury for the year, Wilson was in the dugout every game anyway, cheering and jumping about with his fist aloft. Don't underestimate the power of positive thinking (and cheering). Just a suggestion: the beard—it's time for it to go. We're going for 100% hottie status and the beard is standing in the way.

Yeah—you get in there too, Hunter Pence. Blue-eyed soul.

There's so many more Giants who deserve sweetheart pillows, including super-slugger Marco Scutaro, Ryan (The Riot) Theriot, Gregor (The Catch) Blanco, and ace (and possibly genius) manager Bruce Bochy. That will be Sweetheart Pillow Series II. Congratulations, San Francisco Giants.

Joyous Oakland A's Captured by Artist Ming Choi—Plus Balfour Rage

Oakland A's by Ming Choi, 2012

Keith and I actually went out the other night, which almost never happens, and while traipsing about San Francisco, fell in love with this little painting of the Oakland A's by Ming Choi. Choi is part of the artist collective at Creativity Explored, a studio for developmentally disabled adults. If you're ever in the Mission District, stop by and visit the Creativity Explored gallery. It is an eye-popping experience. There are so many wonderful artworks there from the very tiny, to the giant wall-sized. Plus sculptures and even sometimes painted furniture. It's art heaven, trust me, and very affordable.

This 8"x10" painting manages to capture a joyous Athletics season. The low-budget, scrappy A's won their division against all odds. Although they didn't make it to the final playoffs, losing to the best pitcher in the league in an epic and thrilling five-game series with the Detroit Tigers, they played with complete heart and soul on the field. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. Congratulations, Oakland A's—I treasure your memorable season and now we have some art to commemorate it.

And as for you, loyal A's fans, perhaps the greatest performance artists in the history of professional baseball—we'll get 'em next year.

Balfour rage is the official headbanging, fist-churning cheer you exhibit when Australian relief pitcher and Metallica fan Grant Balfour is called into the game. It's especially prevalent in the right-field bleachers and is a great upper body workout.

It started out small.



And grew into a movement of sweeping magnitude.



There is no containing the Balfour Rage.



Bonus! A's fans are Moving like Bernie with Mayor Jean Quan.

Dot Racing at the Oakland Coliseum

Keith tells me that Oakland was the first baseball stadium to feature "dot racing" with the computer-generated dots racing across the video-tron screen in an exciting pre-Internet between-inning experiment in family entertainment. Now they just do it live, which is much, much better.

Happy July 4th. A's swept the Red Sox and I believe the blue dot won.

Barbara Manning's long-lost music videos - found

Long, long ago, back in the early 90s, I was making films for fun and very little profit. Well, I don't think I ever made a profit, but I definitely broke even on these two, thanks to Matador Records' big-time budgets of $300 each (thanks to the record label public-relations model of old). These were a lot of fun to make and I had much help from friends who have stuck with filmmaking, some of whom are so legit, their film jobs come with health plans.

Barbara Manning is a singer/songwriter, who graced the streets of San Francisco for many years, making it an even better city than ever before. She lives in another part of California now, but her presence is still felt in the foggy byways of the City by the Bay. And she could really play baseball too, while wearing a dress and smiling the whole time. I miss you Barbara.

Dock Ellis is from the EP "Baseball Trilogy." Barbara's band, The S.F. Seals, were named after the old-timey minor-league team. Dock Ellis was a unique player who pitched a no-hitter while tripping on acid. He later co-authored with poet-laureate, Donald Hall, the book In the Country of Baseball, about his time in the Major League. After retiring from baseball, he worked as a drug counselor. Sadly, he died in 2008 at age 63.



Barbara's song Still? is a haunting tune from the S.F. Seals album "Nowhere." Featuring scenes from the Manning Manor as well as from the long-gone Master Links miniature golf course in my hometown of Concord, California. I think every music video should focus on either a baseball player on acid or a game of miniature golf. That's my winning combination.

Happy July 4

We headed over to the A's ballpark today (can't remember which corporation is sponsoring it this year), and were pleased to discover it was free visor/flag day, as this fan so aptly demonstrates.



Between innings, a roving reporter interviewed U.S. armed-forces families who were attending the game. Then they broadcast videos on the jumbo-tron from Kabul, Afghanistan, of Bay Area service people, sending greetings to their families. It was really moving and sad.

Despite its popularity in many countries, I still think of baseball as the quintessential American sport, and to see men and women serving in Afghanistan wistfully and cheerfully send us affectionate greetings at the game (a lukewarm pitching-fest between Oakland and Seattle) was almost more than I could bear. Best wishes to all service people and their families.

Perfect kite flying weather.

Uh oh--my big computer-driven project reactivated on me today. So here's a ten-minute post. Can I meet this challenge: embed a video or two and give proper credits where credits are due? YOU be the judge.

Today my kid and I had a busy day. He went to his first golf lesson and did great. So well did he drive the ball that his new teacher got that excited golfing gleam in his eye and started talking to me about nine-year-old tournament girl golfers he coaches, and that sort of thing. I'm glad my kid just found something he can be passionate about besides video games lately. If it's municipal golf, so be it. My dad will be thrilled too so it's win-win.

Anyway, my posting focus is actually on what we did after the lesson. We hiked up a beautiful ridge next to the course and flew our kite. It was so delightfully windy, that I simply held the kite up about four feet off the ground, and UP it went. WAY UP. And while we did that, a lovely hawk glided about a hundred yards away, simply hanging in the wind, perfectly still on a wing, and watched us fly our kite; probably wondering WTF? Because hawks are inclined to do that (they're so smart, those hawks).

So in one area of a vast sky was our rainbow kite with its lengthy tail flitting about. Off by a California Oak, was the hawk, just floating, wings spread, like a natural kite. The clouds were dark gray, getting blacker. It was heaven, baby!

We had a blast. I haven't flown a kite in a million years (I used to be pretty OK at it as a kid). Jackson had never had a proper kite-flying session because we no longer live with a marina conveniently close by. This was really nice--being out in greenery with a bird of prey and some dark orange wild flowers visible along the hillside.

Oh! My posting time is up (note: with editing time, it's ending up being a 25-minute post--that's how it goes). So here's Ray Bethell, multiple kite champion. He is a magician with kites. Enjoy!



Also: I love the giant octopus kites at the Berkeley Kite Festival. Aren't they fab?


- Another kite trio
- Lovely kite at Crissy Field in San Francisco
- When at Burning Man, go fly a kite
- Bay Area Wind Pattern Map

Oh yes, I almost forgot: when we got home, it started pouring and then hailing in large chunks for quite some time. What a great afternoon, I'm telling you!

Hoop-la

I just almost completed my first hoop workout. Not technically a Hula Hoop workout because we have a different brand of hoop, filled with water and weights, which is actually a little small for me because it belongs to my kid. And that's too much information--sorry. But I guess if I want to get serious about hooping, I'll have to spring for one of those gigantic adult-sized workout hoops, special-ordered from the Internets and capable of causing all kinds of damage in and around the house. That's the price of fitness.

What's new in hooping? Let's find out.

Hoop La La really wowed 'em on "Britain's Got Talent," a few years ago. Damn, they're so cute.


FYI, you don't need a Hula Hoop to do the Hula Hoop.


I love our First Lady.


You can be all flamboyantly new-age and stuff--it's OK with a hoop because then at least you're entertaining.


Guys--you can hoop too. Especially at Burning Man. In fact, I believe it's a requirement.


Mesmerizing!


My inspiration.

Giants - Fuck Yeah!

They did it. They hit. They defended. And as predicted, they pitched. Everything somehow came together and they played a great series. Congratulations San Francisco--you finally have a championship baseball team. Fans, in your excitement, please do not trash the beautiful city by the bay. Thank you.

The following ridiculousness is courtesy of gossip-site ONTD. Skimming the comments, it looks like Buster Posey and Brian Wilson are considered the top team "hotties" with Tim Lincecum following close behind. Freddy Sanchez gets a few nods for cuteness. And Pablo Sandoval provides a fantastic "Gif of the Month" that had me laughing for almost a minute.

My family (immediate and extended) has been Giants fans for decades. They all live in or around San Francisco and never gave up on this often incredibly frustrating team. Whereas I tuned out a lot of the past few seasons, other than receiving full reports from Keith for most every game. I just didn't want to have to turn to drugs to numb the pain any more. It was getting that bad. So I'm very happy for them all--true baseball fanatics.

I'm also glad Bruce Bochy put this roster together and let the best players do their best. Perhaps the era of mega-salaried divas will give way to actual team play and management. Naaah... Anyway, what a team! Cheers.

Dave Flemming's delightful Renteria home run call.


Fans watch the final game live in front of City Hall.


Tim Lincecum--despite his arrest for marijuana possession earlier this year (shout out to our former home-town Vancouver, WA highway patrol--yo) what a breath of fresh air he is. It's like Nirvana won the World Series.


Posey and Wilson - that's hawt.


The post-series emitting of fluids is doubly hawt.


Ooh.


Lincecum moves like a kitty cat.


Bonuses for all!


You shall have cake, Sandoval. Just one piece, please.

Cannabis Club Haiku

I don't have a prescription for medical marijuana. I believe it costs between $99 and $200 to track down the correct doctor who will write you a script. It used to cost more but now there's so much competition out there, the doctors had to price accordingly. I think some are offering a rewards card, like Safeway. Just type in your phone number for prescription discounts. I am kidding. I think.

Anyhoo, there's an abundance of marijuana dispensaries in the Bay Area and even though a win for Proposition 19 would make it legal for Californians to finally just grow our own, no one's writing haiku about the illustrious medical Mary Jane. Perhaps one day medical research will receive the funding to try and find out just how medicinal pot can be. Since I can't just waltz in and check out the situation myself, I'll have to go by the colorful ads keeping the SFWeekly afloat. The selection is dizzying!

Northstone Organics
Super Silver Haze
Blue Cheese or Blue Dream on sale
Farm to door service

Berkeley Patients Group
Affordable, pure
with on-site vaporizers
No loitering please

1944 Ocean Collective
Kush and edibles
Nice people. Nice dogs. Nice weed.
Free gift with this ad

Compassionate Health Options
Dr. Hanya Barth
Keeper of goats, horses, hens
Will match any local price

The Divinity Tree
Good bud for good price
Do your self a favor. Woot!
According to Yelp