Halloween is for Losers

OK, not really. I love Halloween. But I stopped dressing up and taking acid some time in my 20s. I'm keeping it for the kids and since my kid wants to be a garbage truck (again), all my costume-making energy goes into making his fantasy come true. He'll be a side loader this time around. It's getting tough to store all these garbage trucks around here. His dream is to one day own a home with a large enough garage to park his real garbage truck, which he will take on his morning route to pick me up so I can help out with the day's load-in. He will let me compact the garbage and his dad can ride along too if he wants. That's what Halloween is all about: fulfilling your fantasy life and getting way too much candy in the process.

I guess the Castro isn't even throwing a party this time around due to all the violence for the past few years. It's sad but there's always been a dark side to Halloween and I don't mean ghosts and witches. I mean people getting way too fucked up and beating up other people and waving guns around and forgetting where they parked their car and having to spend the night in your living room (and dressing like sexy Red Riding Hood--ew).

A lot of costumes are really lame for sure. Are you in a committed relationship? Demo that for the world to see on Halloween. Here's some great couple costumes for the next gathering of your peers.
Looking good Adam and Eve and Pimp and Ho.

Are you single and loving it? No? Girls, these costumes will catch you a man in no time. Maybe even a guy dressed as a pimp (see above). He will be happy to add you to his stable in these fine ensembles.


Hey, border patrol officers are sexy! Unless you're trying to cross a desert by foot after giving your life's savings to a sociopathic con artist who swore he'd get you to the U.S. in one piece so you could pound nails all day on a construction site if you're lucky. Then I doubt that authority figure will be featured too prominately in your sexual fantasies. Nuns are sexy, if you weren't raised Catholic, I suppose. I think if you were raised Catholic, nuns are the absolute opposite of sexy and will always remain simply scary, like a cop. Some people think cops are sexy, but not in a nun-like way. Oh, it's hard to explain. I just go round and round! Lady plumbers are really sexy until they hand you the bill; da-da-dum! Thank you--I'll be here all week. No, really, this lady plumber outfit is fi-i-ine. She's holding a pipe wrench. If you are not turned on by this there is something seriously WRONG with you. Seriously wrong.

RetroCrush features the worst Halloween costumes of all time; all 70s/80s; all store-bought. I was going to feature the Joanie Loves Chachi costume until I saw this:
If you never saw "Small Wonder" featuring V.I.C.I., monotone-speaking girl robot, considered by many critics as "the worst television show of all time" (and costume), then YOU'RE the loser--not me.

Anyway, happy halloween. I'll be maintaining my son's garbage truck costume and its hydraulic lifting system, standing by with a roll of masking tape and a camera. I hope you stay out of trouble and gets lots of candy.

Source: CityRag

70s Sci-Fi Memories

Ever seen Logan's Run? I was just thinking of renting it because it's been a while (1976--happy Bicentenial, America; enjoy the sci-fi gloom and doom). Michael York and a bunch of young attractive utopians live in a environmentally sealed dome where their every need and pleasure are provided by the government until they reach age 30. Then it's off to the floaty machine where they float, float, float to uh, Sanctuary.

Great pastel tunic-wear; A stone-faced Jenny Agutter as the female lead who gets led around by hand by Logan quite a bit; Set design like a garish discotheque and a memorable matte painting of the Lincoln Memorial by the great Matthew Yuricich. What? You never heard of Matthew Yuricich? Great, great visual effects matte painter. What? You never heard of movie matte painting?

There's a fine book (the only one that I know of) about matte painting by my former boss and friend Craig Barron. Really great stills of movies from the silent era to today. It tells the secret history of matte painters and their camera crews. So many films relied on these great landscapes and architectural wonders, painted on glass (created with actual paint and brushes!). Alfred Hitchcock was a aficionado of matte painting and counted heavily on these artistic tech-heads for many of the most famous scenes of his Hollywood films (that hopeful sunrise at the end of "The Birds"--matte painting; That cool spy-lair in "North by Northwest"--matte painting).

It's all done on computers now and not quite so magical a process (ever watch someone sit at a computer for several weeks at a time?--that's what it looks like). Check out Matte Painting: The Invisible Art.

More Logan's Run here.

Craft-tastic!

Ever wonder what to do with all those tiny plastic liners in your coke bottle caps? Sure you do. Why not hot glue them into a bowl? That's what this resourceful crafter did and as you can see, the results are awesome.

There's some kind of crazy craft resurgence going on. I used to make a lot of crafts with my mom in the 70s. She was very much into decoupage, the fancy French term for gluing paper onto objects, and she had all the special implements to do so, including Modge Podge (my collage glue of choice these days).

I remember a particular illustration of Don Quixote and Sancho Panzo on their steeds as tall, thin shadow figures posed against a dark mustard background. My mom filed down the edges of a big piece of wood to give it some indents all around, then stained it really dark brown, almost black. Then, once the giant image was glued on straight (a tension-filled process) she had herself some home-made Spanish Colonial wall decor to add to our Spanish Colonial living room. We were the only house in Concord, Calif. to have one of those (that I know of). At least it seemed that way because whenever people came over they always looked around and said, "Whoa, what's going on here?"

The couch was nearly 7 feet long and its fabric was covered in bright red and rust-red roses, giving it a cozy blood-cell feel. There were two wooden chairs that would have fit in at the Alhambra de Granada. The coffee tables were that almost-black stained wood with black wrought iron trim (still available in the garage, if I want them). Rembrandt's "Man with Golden Helmet" (a fake!) stared down at us while we sat on the couch. His daunting portrait was surrounded by bejeweled swords and giant gilt keys mounted on goldenrod velvet-upholstered plaques, studded all around with decorative tacks.

I'm not mocking my old living room. I LOVED that room. I fully expected the Spanish Inquisition to arrive at any moment and start chasing us down the hallway, yelling, "Heretics! Give us names and we may let you live!" The Spanish Inquisition had a torture policy very similar to our current government. Not to make light of the Spanish Inquisition, who were responsible for god-knows-how-many horrifying deaths, but my childhood fantasy world went something like this Monty Python sketch, as described in Wikipedia:

In the Monty Python comedy team's Spanish Inquisition sketch, the Inquisition repeatedly burst unexpectedly into scenes after someone utters the words "I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition", screaming "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" The Inquisition would then use forms of "torture" like a dish-drying rack, soft cushions, and the comfy chair.

And that's where crafting can lead you. Here are some craft links I found today. Happy crafting!
Extreme Craft
MAKE blog
ReadyMade blog
Craftzine.com blog

Decoupage THIS

source: zakka life

She Mob Rises...

...like the phoenix of rock bands that it is. Very sadly, I won't be able to play at this show--it will be such a blast. For people of the Bay Area, make a point of going. She Mob is golden!

When and where: Thursday, October 4th at Creativity Explored, 3245 16th St., San Fran., 7 p.m., free.

It's the "Here I Come to Save the Day" show. She Mob will play at the art opening of the Super Heroes Super Villains exhibit at Creativity Explored, reinterpreting famous and infamous characters from comic book history. That's boss!

More Fabulous Gumball Prizes

Today while returning a recently purchased TV at BestBuy (our second return on the same gremlin-plagued brand, which has caused us to switch to a swankier, more expensive brand--oh the pain!), Jackson had to get a gumball prize. He got a necklace with a gilded key charm for 50 cents, which he immediately had to take off because it kept scratching his delicate neck. I keep stuffing all his rejected prizes in my purse where I find them days or weeks later, a bunch of bulbous plastic containers full of junk. Kind of like that TV we returned (twice). Maybe high-end electronics should just plop out of a giant gumball machine. You really don't know what you're getting most of the time.

Enjoy these images of yester-year while I try and figure out how to program my cable remote without a manual. It's a new era and I think gumball prizes should reflect it: miniature remotes, 350-page instruction manuals that barely make sense, audio plug-in devices, customer service reps pressing the "hold" button on the phone, energy-saving light bulbs, 75-page instruction manuals for the energy-saving light bulbs, credit card offers...

Sorry--a little middle-class modern-day angst showing through. Maybe I should read On the Road again or something. The NY Times keeps writing about it. I once saw the manuscript for On the Road at the NY Public Library; one long tissuey roll of paper, spooling out of a really beat-up heavy-metal typewriter. I thought, now there was a writer who was really hopped up on the goofers. Powerful stuff.

Here's your prize:

I Lied

I swore I would never post another Paris Hilton bit (I posted one before), but I couldn't stop giggling through this entire interview. If you can imagine Albert Einstein interviewing a piece of talking fruit on his kitchen counter, it might go something like this. I think the true lesson of Paris Hilton's life is: don't do so much coke, or you will be the recipient of much brain damage. Also: don't be spoiled.

Barry Bonds Limericks

Keith and I wanted to enter SFGate's Barry Bonds limerick contest but we missed the deadline by a couple of hours. We posted them anyway. Keith actually wrote both of these, being a true baseball (and baseball limerick?) fanatic. I only helped with the last line on #2. With limericks, it's all about the rhythm and the last line. I numbered them, just like Emily Dickinson.

#1
***
Jealous of Sosa/McGwire
He set out to raise the bar higher
His soul he did auction
With steroid concoctions
The "Home Run King" is a liar.

#2
***
With his glove and his legs and his bat
He was the best in the game, that's a fact
But it wasn't enough
So he took BALCO's stuff
And now his head is too fat.

Random Stuff-lets

Love me some Tegan and Sara; brilliant Canadian lesbian twin pop stars. Seven gazillion times cooler than Avril or anyone else out there.

FourFour's posted video of Amy Sedaris making cheese balls on The Martha Stewart Show. Love you, FourFour.

JasonHare.com has the best blog about soft rock hits of the 70s (Adventures Through the Mines of Mellow Gold) and he does a killer summary of top-ten hits from the past called CHART ATTACK! He's cutting back on some of his posts to work on other stuff--more's the pity! Only Jason can write a straight-faced appreciation of the Little River Band with the sincerity and love they deserve!

Portraits of famous blondes made entirely from chewing gum.

Dinosaur Comics, based in Toronto, are freakishly awesome. (Click on it, or just go to the site.)

Trees and More Trees

Quickly, I'll throw up (nice imagery) some photos from our move and landing here in Washington. The couch on the sidewalk was in front of our rental in Oakland. Oh, whither Oakland! It makes me sad to see our garbage piled up, ready for the truck to haul it away, just before we hauled ourselves away, but I definitely won't miss that couch. Our new couch comes Wednesday and I'll be posting photos of that as well. Kidding! But I should--it's stylish.

That's our back yard in the last photo. Those trees actually belong to the city but they're letting us use them in the yard--nice! The waterfall belongs to Oregon.

Gumball World

Why I did this today, I don't know, but I started saving these photos of old gumball machine prizes. Most are from the 50s and 60s and they hark back to a more innocent time (check out the movie monsters and gun collection). I can kind of see where our culture was coming from with the gumball prizes back then. We collected miniatures of everything from our world: babies, hotdogs, collies, cars, wishniks, cigarettes, Beatles records.

Jackson's been trying to start a gumball prize collection the past year but every time we cough up the $$$ (they've gone up in price), he gets some hideous monster from a bad movie. Like something from the "Incredible Hulk" only it's a hulk-like villain, not even the Hulk. Or he'll get the actual Hulk and it looks like a villain. He's just not into villains. He likes funny creatures who fall down a lot and get hit with ping pong balls. I'm just not seeing a lot of that in gumball machines lately.

I started collecting the very popular "Homies" from the Goodwill in Oakland a few years ago. I was instantly attracted to them because they reminded me of the kids I saw hanging out in the Mission District in San Francisco when I was growing up. But after I gathered a few of these at 50 cents each, I realized they were a little disturbing. I keep them in a drawer. I can't seem to get rid of them, yet I can't display them either. Here's one of the sets. There's hundreds of these and some are at a different scale, like with big heads and bodies, so when you try to gather your collection from a gumball machine, you end up with a miss-match of styles. From a collector's standpoint, it's annoying because your perfectionist streak kicks in: oh, now I gotta start collecting the big-head series to match my other big-heads--thanks a lot, Homies. I just gave up at that point--probably a healthy decision. Kind of cute and artistic, but pretty disturbing. These caricatures, had they been created by a white guy (or guys), would be considered completely outrageous by the Latino community (I'm guessing), but because they're done by a Latino guy--they're considered cool. It's one of those fine-line situations. Disclosure: I'm mixed Latino and I have mixed feelings.

Anyway, back to gumball prizes. Here a few that caught my obsessive eye. If you feel the compulsion to own any of these, head over to Time Passages Nostalgia Company and put in a bid, but be aware that many of these collections are already marked "sold" because of all the people who are anxious to own tiny plastic telephones, chickens, radishes, and (for many an unlucky child in the past), feet.

Ahhgh! Slugs!

Today I write about some of the weird/creepy things about living here. So far the honeymoon has lasted three weeks, but that fourth week is when you really start to notice your surroundings for what they are: good and bad. So far, not so bad.

Let's see...we live at the end of a street surrounded by city property full of giant trees, grasses, birds and ground squirrels: good. Sometimes teen-agers traipse through and toss their garbage around in this undeveloped terrain: bad. It's easy for me to go back there and do a clean up though: good. Some kids (some really strong kids) brought some big, splintery, nail-ridden wooden pallets over to our area and tried to make a fort out of them: bad. Pallets make terrible forts, especially if you don't nail them together. If you just lean them in a half-box formation, they're bound to fall over on you: more bad. I dragged them over to some god-forsaken corner of our 3-block lot behind the house: good. But in doing so, I noticed a household directly behind us, who also don't have a back fence, and their side yard is literally covered in garbage; a big mountain of garbage, all leaning up against their house with a big sign on it that says: rats and other vermin welcome here (practically): very bad. The trees hide this house from view: good. Just don't ever walk through the trees.

While I was walking through the trees, a boy of about 10 practically bumped into me, walking in the opposite direction. "What are you doing here?," I asked him. He said, "I'm looking for a box." Guiltily, since I just dumped the big pallets against a nearby tree, I said, "I haven't seen any boxes around here." Whereupon he said, "What are YOU doing here?" I said, "Oh, I'm just checking out this street back here, trying to figure out which one it is; because I just moved here and I don't know my way around much." We both looked at each other like, Hmmmmm. That was: weird. We went back to our opposite directions: relief.

Our street is off of a cul-de-sac so no one ever goes here hardly and it's really quiet and peaceful: good. The garbage trucks don't go here either because they can't turn around to go back out, so we take our garbage cans and bins to the end of our street, half a block away: bad. My son is obsessed with garbage trucks (still), so on garbage day he wakes up too early and has to run down our street multiple times to see each truck as it passes through: kind of bad because his feet get covered in grime because in all his excitement he forgets to put his shoes on. This morning I washed his feet twice before all the trucks came. All the neighborhood cats hang out with him and his garbage cans while he waits for the trucks: good. He likes cats and they like garbage. It's a good match.

Today while I was helping him bring back the cans from down the street, I saw a tremendous garden slug on my house, sliding along toward the second story: BAD BAD BAD. I have a phobia about garden mollusks. This slug was the size of a small banana, making it a banana slug, I suppose. Only it was brown, not bright green or yellow, like I've had the pleasure of meeting in the Santa Cruz mountains (home of tremendous banana slugs). I was silently wigging out about this slug: Where did it come from? Where was it going? What did it want? I ran back into the house, trying to hide my fears from my son. It's only a matter of time before he discovers my secret: that I'm irrational in this area of life. Until then, I will have to focus on breathing deeply and thinking good thoughts: good good good.

So, not so bad! I really can't complain at all. Except the slug is gone now and I can't help wondering...WHERE DID IT GO?

Road Trip--Waterfall Alley

On Labor Day we drove along the Historic Columbia River Highway to check out some waterfalls. Ever since we stepped foot in Vancouver people have asked us, "Have you seen the Gorge? Have you been to the Gorge?" Our answer, a sheepish, "Not yet." I've personally been very busy organizing my cult film books and measuring for window treatments. Sensing the urgency of the situation (how often do you get to live by one of the most beautiful spots on earth?), we visited the Columbia River Gorge. It's 30 minutes from our house. I'm not bragging--just letting you know.

There are many waterfalls along this drive and you just park, get out of your car and see them. Some are a short hike from the highway. Others spill into pools a few feet from your car. We managed to get to four of them in one afternoon and they were all spectacular. I'm talking: jaw-droppingly beautiful. Jackson kept saying, "This is a-MAZING! It's so pretty!" throughout the day. And he was absolutely right. Here are some stock photos I found. I didn't get permission and I haven't tried to upload Photoshop on my new computer yet (those cult film books have kept me very busy), so they're big. Sorry. The better to gasp at nature's bounty.

Here's the Historic Highway, established (I believe) in 1917 for the enjoyment of vacationing car-drivers, world-wide. Over the years, some major Oregon industrialists donated their waterfalls to the park. Thanks guys! It's strange to think that someone can actually "own" a waterfall. It's kind of laughable but not in a good way.
Latourell Falls. There's some really fluorescent moss growing all around the top of the rock face. And a very "Lord of the Rings" kind of pool at the bottom. Much of Oregon reminds me of Middle Earth. I think it's the tremendous plant life all around. It makes the air really good and maybe we're getting a little too much oxygen when we breathe around here. There's a lot of spirituality and general freakiness in the area. Could be the oxygen; could be isotopes. Could be geological activity just below the surface of the earth, creating some electromagnetic fields. What was I talking about...? Oh--check out THESE falls:
Multnomah Falls. BIG--620 feet down. Here's a photo from 1920 with the Lodge in front (still there, in case you want an ice cream or a latte before you head up to the bridge for a better view). We would have felt dwarfed by all the natural wonder except for the 60,000 people walking along with us to see it. Better to go on a week day.

The other falls were not as well-attended, but still popular. I'm going back after a big rainfall and see what kind of water droplets ensue.

Jackson Graduates

I didn't have any time before we moved to post Jackson's graduation-from-preschool-day photos. Our friend Monte took these. It's called "Key Day" and all the graduates get a key so they can always return to visit their school. Sniffle! Great day. Now he's in kindergarten--more sniffles. The cliche is true: they do grow up fast. They cross over a symbolic bridge into...even more childhood adventures, I guess. Kindergarten is really different because it isn't a co-op. I can volunteer for his class but his day is really separate from mine (for 3.5 hours at least). Today he told me they went to the music room and they all twirled around to music and the room was full of instruments. I thought, I wish I could have come! In a co-op, I would have not only been there, but I probably would have driven a few kids to the class and helped them with their lunches too.
That's Gail, early-childhood genius and humorist. She runs a fantastic school in Oakland. I miss her very much and we were lucky that we got to work with her and all the kids.

Today I walked along the Columbia River for over an hour. What a bee-yoo-ti-ful day. The sun came busting out of all the clouds at 2 p.m. and the water glittered and twinkled and made some waves along the beach.

Where could I be--I don't kno-o-ow...

Greetings from my new home in Vancouver, WA. Up until two months ago, I didn't know Vancouver, WA even existed and now I'm sitting in my new office/guest room here, finally updating the blog. It's a heady experience (sitting here, not the updating). I've been to Vancouver, B.C. many times so I know this copy-cat city name is confusing (personally, I think the state of Washington should have considered naming the town Columbia, since it's on the Columbia River and "Columbia" has a poetic ring to it, does it not?).

So we've gone and relocated and it's sad to leave the wonders (and friends and family) of Oakland, Calif. but it's damn nice here, if a bit more suburban than I've been used to in the past 20 years. Without going into incredible detail (because I'm tired of moving and just plain tired), I find this place very reminicent of my childhood suburb of Concord, CA. Not the Concord of today, but the Concord of almost 40 years ago. This town is now becoming way over-developed but it's still very beautiful in many places; it really is along a river and Portland is a short bridge away. That's right: tax-free shopping right across the water. And as many know, Portland is a unique and wondrous place.

So we're close to the ocean, the mountains, the rivers and waterfalls, and micro-breweries, parks, playgrounds and an awesome school district. I'm sure I'll find something to grumble about but for now, enjoy this pictorial array from the City of Vancouver website and The Columbian newspaper. I'll be taking some photos of all the run-down decrepit stuff that I've discovered, because that's my personal aesthetic. Until then, enjoy the friendly, laid-back, majestic sights of Vancouver (U.S.A.).

Our tour begins along the Columbia River. That's the I-5 drawbridge to Portland.
Here's a beach along the river with Mt. Hood, ever-present in the background.
Nice mural on the railroad bridge. Vancouver sports many planes, trains and automobiles (and recreational boats).
The fountain at downtown Esther Short Park. There are kids here like you wouldn't believe. We've gone to three parks in one week and they're crawling with kids. Today a couple of kids rang our doorbell and played with Jackson all afternoon until their worried-sick mother came looking for them. They had forgotten to tell her where they would be. That's kid-like!
Hungry? How about some grain-fed beef burgers from Burgerville? Enjoy the seasonal milkshakes; this summer it's Oregon blackberry. Fall will feature pumpkin. We still haven't gone to to Burgerville but they're giving away 2,000 free cheese-burgers tomorrow at Esther Short Park for Vancouver's 150th birthday celebration, so maybe we'll wait in line. Scheduled to perform: Squish--a local all-kid rock band.
It does snow here a little bit. I own a hat with ear-flaps, so I'm looking forward to wearing that without getting laughed at, like I did in Oakland.
Oh hell, I'm going to Portland for some tax-free shopping, Powell's Books, micro-brew and an overwhelming population of indie-rock bands, the likes I haven't seen since 1983 in San Francisco. If I can just stay awake past 11 p.m....cannot manage it...night-night.

Come move with me!

Moving is a blast--don't ever let anyone tell you differently. Here's a journal entry I made a few nights ago. Note my organizational skills and grace under pressure:

After missing my exit, trying to get Keith to the airport on time, after packing everything we own over the course of three weeks and after nearly running out of gas on the freeway by the airport and after finding a discount gas station in the middle of nowhere-Oakland 980/880 hinterlands and after getting aggressively panhandled at said gas station and after getting home and realizing I'd lost my house key and couldn't find it anywhere in the rental car or in my purse, and after getting a call from Keith, whose flight was delayed and after he listened to near-panic-and-emotional-wreck Jackson and me tell him about the lost key; Keith suggested we search our 3-cubic-yard-long-and-wide garbage pile in the front yard because I had completely forgotten that I had taken a pan out there to dump before we had left for the airport. Maybe the key had fallen out of my hand there.

"I'll look!" I said as I ran to our metal scrap pile.

And there were my house keys, sitting on top of a pile of garbage, right in front of our house.

Finally, as Jackson was settled in bed and asking me what if we hadn't found them there, and I said, "I'm not going to worry about that. I'm just happy it's all right now."

Then Jackson smiled and said, "I think we had kind of a confused night!"

Then we both cracked up until we were teary eyed.

Epilogue: I was very careful with my keys from then on (until next time). Waste Management negotiated an end to the 3-week-long garbage lock-out and picked up our entire pile of garbage. The movers were able to enter the house the next morning and get all our stuff. Jackson now sees me as more human, and less of a god (that was going to happen soon anyway). And Keith continues to be a genius.

House-bound

I've been thinking about housing lately, mainly because we went and bought a house (more on that later). I read Winifred Gallagher's House Thinking and really enjoyed her room-by-room history and meditation on shelter; its beginnings and ongoing role in our lives. Heady! Here's some Web sites she lists in the back of the book.

A Picture Dictionary of Modern Architecure (finally, modernism explained, with helpful images)

Greatest Buildings of the 20th Century (one woman's opinion)

The Jeremiah Lee Mansion Tour (Colonial Georgian splendor)

Sea Ranch (known for its successful blending into the geography)

The Mount (Edith Wharton's Lair)

The Gamble House (Craftsman mania)

Home Inspection Nightmares VII (from This Old House)

Levittown (the house as American Dream)

Atlas of Sacred Sites Around the World

We're leaving Oakland for other greenery. It's sad and difficult to leave friends and family but it's also a good time to start over. Oakland has so much potential for greatness but it's also a very difficult place to live. There was a garbage lock-out this month, resulting in much...garbage. A journalist was just gunned down in the street yesterday and seven Black Muslims were arrested in connection to the crime. I can't walk by the art center near my old neighborhood and not think about the woman who was nearly burned to death there one night. I wonder how she's doing. There are well over a hundred liquor stores in Oakland and not enough police and a lot of good will but not a lot of solutions. Great weather though. We'll miss the weather. We'll miss all the people but we'll come visit. One thing Oakland doesn't lack and that's character. I'll always remember the mix of cultures, the food and the music. These are what make Oakland special and great. I'm getting all sappy. Thinking about home does that to me.

Not ANOTHER Crazy Dream

They just keep on coming. This one was around 4:40 this morning during what must have been a pre-earthquake before the 4.0+ quake shook us awake like an angry mother trying to get her kids up for school.

It started as an anxiety dream where we moved to a new house and the neighbors were part of the Gotti family. In the course of many strange occurences, all the Gotti kids were having a sleep-over in several bunk beds that all started careening across the bedroom floor, tipping and breaking and traveling in manic fashion. Suddenly, it became part of a Broadway musical and the kids all started singing "Rock & Roll High School." Stagehands came running and patched all the split wood with duct tape. The bunk beds continued ka-lumping across the floor. The kids kept singing, trying to hang on. The last chorus, they all sang in unison, "Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Rock & roll high school!"

And my bed shook me awake, the windows rattled, and a bottle of shower gel fell into the shower stall with a thud. If you're going to be awakened by an earthquake, make it a musical event.

Local Yokels

Are you wandering around Oakland, wondering what to buy or where to hang out? OaklandGoods will steer you straight.

You can't enter the Oakland Mormon Temple unless you're a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints--but you can download some Temple wallpaper for your computer decorating scheme.

Steam Trains in Berkeley?

Do you like photographs of modern architecture in San Francisco? So does Le Blog Exuberance.

Politics in Contra Costa County? Check out Halfway to Concord, featuring a photo header of the Mt. Zion quarry behind my childhood home.

Do you think the Marin County Civic Center, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, is totally awesome? Here's a photo essay of its design and construction. Why not check out the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge, while you're at it? Would you have liked to ride the rails through Marin at the turn of the century? It would have looked like this.

Attempting to remodel your home in the Bay Area by yourself? Misery loves company:
1oldhouse.blogspot.com
47ranchdressing.blogspot.com
casadecrepit.com (check out the "Crimes Against Victorians" post--very Bay Area)

Coming in September: ArtCar Fest fever--catch it!

When Stevie Nicks was Queen

Long ago, in 1983, the reigning queen of pop music did not lip synch, kept her drug use under wraps for most of the decade, made sure her shows were entertaining and had some pretty killer big hair (presumably all her own). I never really got into her shtick because she seemed so "mannered." I liked talented control-freak Lindsey Buckingham better. But in hindsight, I've come to appreciate the greatness that was Stevie Nicks. Now you can too. Check out that 80s energy emanating all around the stage.

(The best Stevie Nicks video on YouTube was taken away from us so you'll have to settle for this "Solid Gold" appearance. Definitely second best, at best.)

I had this crazy dream...

...don't you hate sentences that start like that? And the dream usually is crazy--crazy boring! No one wants to hear your dreams--that's how it is. But I really did have this crazy dream last night and I'm going to type it here for posterity. Sometimes dreams just scream for attention, you know?

I dreamt we were looking for another rental apartment to move into and a young couple offered to show us theirs. It wasn't too impressive, but we were friendly with them as we looked around. The man and woman who lived there were musicians (I'm kind of a musician too) but they were not friendly at all. In fact, they were pretty snotty towards us, not making any effort to be kind or even polite. Later, we returned to the apartment while they were out, to give it one last look-over. I noticed from all the memorabilia, posters and photos on the walls that they had been in Toad the Wet Sprocket. I yelled, "They were all snotty to us because they had been in TOAD THE WET SPROCKET?!"

See? Ca-razy! Needless to say, we didn't take the apartment. Besides, the washer/dryer were coin-op and I can never come up with enough quarters.

Note: any similarity to members of Toad the Wet Sprocket is entirely coincidental.

Important Ukulele News

This Friday, July 6th, The Tatami Mats will perform "Dark Side of the Uke"--a ukulele-only version of Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon." Why is this happening? It's the second anniversary of The Knockout at Mission and Valencia in San Fran., 10 p.m. start time. Too rich for my blood, but I'm always up for some ukulele orchestrations. May the spirit of Don Ho be with them.

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