Wednesday, August 24, 2011

J Mercy (Someday You Guys Are Going To Be Uncles)


It's funny to consider how small all the nieces and nephews used to be. We always enjoyed when they would visit and stay over. They've all grown up to be really cool individuals. They're not so small anymore.

When Jeremiah was about nine, we would take a super ball or a tennis ball out on
the street and play keep away. It was entirely me keeping the ball away from Jeremiah- bouncing the ball off buildings, street signs, tossing it high in the air and using my body in best Charles Barkley fashion to back Jay away from getting the ball. Sometimes I was Air Jordan leaping to miraculous heights gathering the ball over Jeremiah's outstretched hands. I know I floated in the air. My skill set, awesome! Misdirection, sleight of hand, speed and strength- it was a lot of fun. For me. Years of good times.



About nine years later, more or less- my memory intentionally distorts- Jay came up to visit. He wasn't the scrawny kid that he used to be but still, I was the wily veteran. Finding a good solid super ball, we went for a walk. My first toss off a wall and Jay pushed me off my block, and grabbed the ball. Now it was his turn to play keep away from his Uncle. Jump Uncle Brian, catch this Uncle Brian, Here you go Uncle Brian but oh...too slow! Panic! Red Alert! All my Air Jordan and Charles Barkley powers and prowess were diminished. I was now Curious George battling King Kong. I could not jump, slide, glide, slip, turn, twist, push to get to the ball. For fifteen minutes or so, Jeremiah was ruthless, enjoying his new found power. The King is Dead! Power to the people!

Perhaps it was the pathetic look on my face. Maybe it was that I was a decent Uncle (other than my gleeful years as the King of Keep Away) that brought Jeremiah to mercifully stop and hand me the ball, never to play this game again. Nothing said (other than the fun Maria had with this later).

So this, Dexter and Oliver is just a gentle reminder. Some day you guys are going to be Uncles.
Be good Uncles. But for now, I bet you guys can't get this ball from me...











Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Fast, & So Long to Hill

This week I signed up for a one day event to raise funds for an international food bank. I thought this is a great deal- a feast for famine relief: donate or raise $50, company pops in another $150 and there's a huge meal provided for participating! Only thing is or was, was not a feast for, but a fast for. Big difference it turns out.

I've been ignorant that part of Ramadan and its month long fast from sun up to sun down (longer at the beginning of the 30 days)- is to empathize with those less fortunate. Most- all? cultures have fasting as part of their beliefs and it's an impressive credo. I decided I could not do without water so I was not completely all in, but in as much as I reasoned I could be.

Getting up early to load up on coffee (that which I would miss the most), and breakfast of toast and jam, I was ready. Missing the regular meals of a later breakfast and lunch was not so difficult as I don't really load up on either but I missed being able to constantly snack. Free time? Go peruse and have a snack. Walking by the microkitchen, grab a little bite. Without, that was difficult. The day seemed long. I was irritable by 6:30pm (sorry Maria). And this includes my stop at an office on the 7th floor- we sometimes get their mail by mistake. Whenever I bring something to them, I grab a tiny chocolate from their offering bowl (especially since their reception station is empty) and as I was munching on my Mr.Goodbar, it seemed to taste really, really good. Oh, no! I couldn't spit out the melted goo but felt plenty guilty and a tiny bit out of control. I liked the experience and the purpose behind it.

A regular customer at my Peet's store died earlier this month. Mr. Hill. Hillel Narin (sounds like a Star Trek name) or Hilly as his friends called him, was in my experience at the Fillmore Peets store a benefactor for myself, the community and the staff. I know that some of them may have found him to be a bit overbearing, or too personal and perhaps he was. But I do know that he supported our efforts, did not mind irritating the powers above (not the Gods, but the employers who think of themselves as Gods) with suggestions that they did not want to hear. In his day, he owned a noted SF Jazz club, Basin Street West and has reel to reel recordings of some great musicians playing in the club. I hope someone saves these! For a long time, he liked to pay for his tab in dollar coins. His morning hello's were always in a sing song voice- which if one is recovering from 3 hours of sleep might have been too friendly of a greeting to respond to.

He always supported, financially our fund-raising efforts for La Casa DeLas Madres (home for battered women and their children) as for three straight years we raised more money than any store in the entire company. And this, which he and another did not want any acknowledgment of; during my last week the staff of the store- a big band version of present and past alumni put together a picnic for me. Walking down a hill at Golden Gate Park, my friend Bruce handed me an envelope from Mr. Hill and another benefactor. It was an envelope of big bucks- enough to cover my rent for several months. Just a thank you note and when I attempted to thank in person, I would be cut off with just these words from him- thank you. Mr. Hill, thank you.

And thank you for trying to get Shinjo's (Giant outfielder of 2002 from Japan) autograph. He lived in your building but always refused your request to sign a ball for Dexter. A cafe is brightened by people engaging in conversation- I'm always a bit saddened to see cafes where everyone sits with a laptop, silent. A cafe should have animation, regular groups of everyday customers- the congregation, cadence and a vibe, noise and the rustling of papers, people writing, laughter, arguments! Mr. Hill was always part of that. And always will be.
2197 Fillmore Street. 1995-2011.




Wednesday, August 17, 2011

They Can't Catch Us All

Every once in awhile, a political movement takes hold and the voice of the people is finally heard, and true change can begin. Born from the depths of despair, it can take root and grow. We the people can not refuse the opportunity to take back what was once ours, and what can be again.

It is a movement of the people and not the politicians. No politicians- for fear of the loss of PAC money and the influence of special interests, will address the issue. Who has the courage to ask those that govern about taking a stand for the NRZ? Yes, our troubled economy and military occupations are crucial conflicts that ache for resolution but the first candidate that is willing to speak up for the NRZ movement has my vote. These candidates would be showing the courage to believe in hope and faith.


100,000 people at the first NRZ March. August 2011, San Francisco Bay Area. Despite attempts to suppress this rally, people persevered and gathered together.

In recent years, the message has been of anti-hope; saying we have no chance. A grim forecast. Shadows that overtake and overwhelm. A prevailing message that in its fierce and violent delivery threatens everyone. NRZ, however believes that they can't catch us all. NZR believes in the glory days of the past when hope was of the living, and not a dream shattered and a meal for the dead. NRZ is the No Running Zombies movement.

Zombies should not be allowed to run. They used to be slow creatures who we could get when we needed to, or avoided them just by being careful. Those perpetrators that support fleet of foot zombies are special interest groups who will use scare tactics and fear to control people; keep them inside watching their televisions. Don't go out and experience the world and other cultures; other cultures are foreign zombies who not only will take your jobs but they will eat you. They will chase you down and eat you. Just like monkeys that will eat your face. No,no, no.

The movement begins now.
They can't catch us all.

NRZ.
Sign a petition. Get aboard.
( I mean get a board in case one of
'em gets too close. Then whack the
MF)


8/20/11:
I just stumbled upon this essay by Simon Pegg ("Shaun of the Dead"). I got something here!

http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2008/nov/o4/television-simon-pegg-dead-set

























Sunday, August 14, 2011

The Relentless Flow Of The Positive River


The title of this one comes from Sf Giants reliever Javier Lopez . Wherever this phrase originated, it became one of the driving quotes of the team last year. This is not your usual "let's kick some ass" locker room motivation (don't worry- they also rode the emotion of a line from Braveheart) and although the words do not exactly flow as well as the season did, the simple meaning is a smart one to consider; a room full of positive thinking people can accomplish good things. Sometimes the participation is as a spectator, absorbed in the activity that envelops and the current of a positive river.






































In Medford Oregon, Meghan and Tony celebrated their 10th wedding anniversary. They put together an elegant party at their shop, Lotus Hair Salon attended by family and friends. Ten years of a ying and yang relationship; a balance of muse, craft, practicality, determination and dreams grounded by the needs of a Marley. The river inspires siblings to pursue similar bonds, when nearly two decades before- their parents provided faith to our good union. The river runs on and on.











The weekend before, Destination Windsor found Dexter, Oliver and myself at the finish line of the Vineman Ironman race. No, I haven't elevated my couch relaxing ways to 140 plus miles of swimming, cycling and running . We had trekked up north to witness Andrew's finish in the event, along with Kristine, his family and friends, anticipating not only this achievement but for the giant step he would take after the race. To endure a punishing journey just to get to a place where another journey might begin- so much more admirable than a scoreboard proposition at a ball game! Few knew that there would be anything more than the race itself, but would find themselves with spirits elevated, carried forward in the relentless flow.
































Thursday, August 4, 2011

After the After, Arcade Night

Last Saturday in Windsor was a big day. A
one of a kind day but this is about the after, what
Dexter, Oliver and I did.

We just had fun. Looking for a specific arcade
in Roehnert Park, we stumbled upon a different place. It was small arcade, minimal service and a big paint ball place. We watched some guys shoot each other with some of them getting hurt . At that point we decided we should find the original point of destination.

Scandia was just a block away. A whole mess of games, batting cages , mini golf, and about four rides. Tonight I thought I would just let them play out until they were tired. So that's what we did.

The one ride the boys chose was the water saucers where they could squirt each other, while avoiding streams of water that the pool provided. Surprised that Oliver would choose his own vehicle and surprised that they would let him, they were the only riders for this go-round. That is, once we located the ride operator.











Maybe I didn't think this out too well. It was about 8:30 at night, kind of cool outside and they could get pretty wet without a change of clothes at hand. Oliver was soaked. Dexter stopped squirting him once Big O asked him to stop. Alas, just before the ride's finish, I watched a big stream of water arch over from behind and...oh crap.

























Dried him up as best we could, wrapped him up in Dexter's jacket, and back in we went- until
10:30! Not a productive, brain challenging evening by any means but a good night in their book, I think.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Adventure Days With Dexter


Earlier in the week I thought the most exciting thing I would do before this weekend was renaming this blog to one of my primary environmental concerns,
"Monkeys Will Eat Your Face "
However, sensing that Dexter's feelings might be shattered, I chose not to.
Instead I invited Dexter to participate with me in two endeavors, kayaking in the bay and riding on a zip line. He could have declined the offer and that would have been okay. Knowing his extreme fear of heights, I didn't expect him to do the zip line. I was pleasantly surprised when he told me that he wanted to do both. Later, eight stories up and waiting for launch, I would have preferred that he had chosen not to do so- for I was the one wishing that we were much, much lower.









After assisting me at work and making my day easier and less isolated, we set out to meet the in kayak deadline of 4pm, at Pier 40.

City Kayak is a small outfit and the one person running the show walked us through the tutorial. This would be Dexter's first go about in a kayak and he had concerns about 50 foot sharks, or sinking. I haven't been in a kayak since a couple of times with Maria, and some years ago. In our walk to Pier 40, I had left my change of clothes bag at work but as it turned out wearing slacks worked out better than Dexter's jeans, as most of the water did not absorb into my clothing. Leaving my dress shoes at the dock, we were set to go. He had us take several turns to show some ability and then we were on our own.

More experienced kayakers can head out in the direction of the Bay Bridge but our goal was to go to the area of the house boats in much shallower water. Once we got going, I realized that the two hours we had might not be enough for us to get there and back.


We huffed and we puffed, and rested. But when we rested, we tended to drift off and getting our momentum back was not easy. We were going against current in the direction of the ball park, and knew that it would be easier coming back. The tranquility and openness of sitting in the water appealed to both of us, so there were times when we would willingly stop and drift, knowing that later we would have to work hard to get back to where we were.


In that vastness I was surprised to hear someone call out my name way over from shore. It was Alicia from work, jogging around the ballpark. Of course, our attempts to glide over to say hello were more chunky/choppy than glide silky.

Very cool to go behind PacBell/AT&T park, under the 2nd street drawbridge (eerie and noisy), and make our way finally to the houseboats. This area where we have sat quietly waiting for the bat rays, watching from shore and now drifting over the water brought a thrill. We knew that if the rays were there they most likely would lay quiet avoiding the bulk of the kayak but by this time, we had perfected our glide and unity of movement and purpose.
Friday afternoon. Zip line at Justin Herman Plaza. Two folks had intended to go with us but both had to bow out for various last minute obligations. This normally would have provided me the opportunity to back out as well but Dexter was willing, and from our experience on the Brooklyn Bridge- that he was willing to face it would be an opportunity not to dismiss. So we went, with Cailin as our accomplice. The price for a 20 second zip is somewhat steep ; $29 each (you can go again for half the cost) but as a one time event, a fair value.

The instructions are pretty well designed and straight forward: step into the blue straps, pull this one over, and hold on to the buckle. A helmet is adjusted (as if it would help) and walk up the stairs. A lot of stairs. I was anxious about how many stairs. The way up is tented over so it doesn't feel open but you can see outside at the turns.
















At this point we still had two levels of stairs to conquer before reaching the top. At this point, I said to Dexter, "Two more levels?! REALLY?" In his mind, he was just wanting to get the event over but I needed to stop. I didn't like that I was the one who was becoming noticeably anxious. My fear of heights has become a managed one (so I thought) as I'm okay about being on rooftops, after having to climb some pretty shaky ladders accessing high areas when working with the maintenance guys at my cafe gigs.

Getting strapped in by two very nice gents at the top overlooking Justin Herman Plaza was nerve wracking. I checked with Dexter as to how he was. He said he was fine, brave and smiling-not unlike when he was the brave seven year about to undergo major dentist work. If he can keep it together, I should. It probably would not be a very positive memory of his father screaming like Chris Tucker and needing sedation. (keep it together, keep it together...) . Here's the thing; I was not ignorant of the good gentleman who securely strapped me in and while explaining the safety of the rig.
What got me is despite knowing this, my visual focus is the four steps in front of me which end into the oblivion of nothing, and I am supposed to step off into that? (Actually you get into a sitting position at the first step and at a countdown, you are eased into the air)





Here's Dexter soaring through the sky. He took off before I did probably because he was following directions. Eyes closed and lump like, I was sent off seconds behind.



However, once airborne and zipping- weightless, it felt great. Eyes opened you realize how good the birds have it; the view, the room, the speed.
Ah, this is the way to go if this was a way we could go. My girth picked up speed and I soared past Dexter at 500 miles an hour.









To slow you down, the zip takes a bit of an up track with a cushioned wheel or pad to break the momentum. Not unlike an unexpected jolt or shove. Then the guys unhook you, and you walk down a short flight of steps and looking up, relive the experience in words and feeling.
Awesome -but days later, we also remember how the view from the top is sometimes best remembered way down below.


look at my knuckles!

Cailin, not yet convinced that this is a venture that she is willing to undertake found us shortly after we made flat land. After comparing notes, we noticed all the cyclists, for critical mass. We also noticed, in a Where's Waldo sort of way one naked man, he at least with one well placed leaf ready on his bicycle. I can't say if I can recall if he wearing a bike helmet.

When we first came across the first naked man on a bicycle, the thought occurred to me that perhaps we haven't seen him since Bobby and Meredyth's wedding, and that he was the guy who should ride the zip line. I'd pay for that! Soon we found ourselves in what seemed to be the meeting point of all similarly undressed cyclists- none wearing well placed leafs. Cailin and Dexter found it difficult not to bust out in uncontrolled uncomfortable laughter. I of course, maintained a dignified manner drawing from years of being among crowds of naked men .

It was a peculiar finish to an exhilarating few days and yet, candidate for Best Day Ever was still on the horizon. Saturday, July 30 in Windsor CA. But that celebration, is for someone else's blog to reveal. For Dexter and I, these experiences are ours to remember, recall and rejoice. Well done Son.




















Monday, July 25, 2011

Sunday, Santa Cruz



Sunday we fulfilled a promise to Captain Mike that we would take him to Santa Cruz for his first ever trip to the Beach Boardwalk. He's been wanting to ride the historic carousel which is one of the few surviving carousels featuring a ring toss. The carousel as designed by Arthur Looff is 100 years old and became a national landmark in 1987. However, I can't visit these places without hearing my brothers voice speaking about "Arthur Looff, the son of Charles ...".

I've learned the two ring pull as the carousel circles around past the one ring dispenser but i have not yet forgiven the Looff family for their right hand bias- to attempt to toss the ring into the clown's mouth requires a sidearm throw backward as your horse pulls away from the target.











Oliver probably had the most fun on the beach but Captain Mike joined us in dodging the waves.
I practice the art of never getting wet unless my intent is to get wet. Respecting the power of the waves and water but remembering that I am a human and my brain is bigger than the ocean's. I am actually a little worried that the boys will get flattened by the water so in my mind I think- okay, toss the wallet, the inhaler, and heavy shoes to shore- then jump in asap. Hasn't ever gotten to that point, thankfully. Because the next point would be some ten year old kid pulling us both to shore.

Dexter was into winning the dime toss games so while Maria and I rode the Big Dipper (yep, Looff again), the boys wandered off and returned with various glassware and bowls. Dexter never makes a secret of not enjoying thrill rides but Oliver seems to love the thrill of a drop, and the splash of water- with Maria, in a log flume.



Treats and a trip downtown for coffee- Santa Cruz benefits from having room so their coffee shops usually have large interiors. You can find several cafes that brew coffee to order and years ago we would visit a place that had a big garden to relax in.



















An old ice cream shop, Marianne's- 50 plus years offers some great flavors year round that our neighborhood Swenson's only offers seasonally or no longer : Blackberry,
Licorice, Root Beer Swirl. And then there are many more flavors that other people like too. A full day for us.

I Can't Keep This A Secret Any Longer

With great news this morning of November 7,2020, it's time to share more: I didn't like my makeup and admittedly I am wearing a bad ...