e and x

Part of the joy of travel is new places and new people.

The area here is not new to me, but since Im not a local it still has suprises.

A lot of my time here has been going to bookstores. Not an obsessive about books (well), I do love having a 'library' @ home. I have read many books from various university and CPL over the years for hard to find books or when too expensive - and, if the context is rite, I'd like to get books that i already have read. Munson and I took BART to Sf and then hopped on a bus to go way west to the Richmond district - book stores and dim sum. Munson knew of a key store out there, and determined to breakfast before shopping, he decided dim sum. Fuck, i thought, like i want Chinese two days ina row. he wanted cheap - i was looking for a diner/hamburger type of deal. But, again, I trusted him and it paid off.

We were late for lunch, but after processing 15 different places he decided one place was what he wanted. Late lunch crowd, sparse. Dim sum was incredible. It mita been the 3d time for me ever to do dimsum- and enjoyed the experience. Munson was very particular in getting the rite place a sitdown place where the dim is brought to you on the cart - not the place to line up and order carryout style. Munson is cheap like me (yes, Vito, he's cheaper than me, cheaper than dragon, but not as cheap as Dad) so I can be pretty comfortable w. him in restaurants (some people enjoy fine dining out - to me, all i think about is how much it costs the whole meal - not enjoyable - sorry it's the genes, or maybe environment, but it's there) getting cheap. We ate several of the servings, saying no to any seafood. Just so good - the pork, the chicken, the rice, the, the, the,.... and tea!

Then went to Green Apple books for shopping. Great store - several books bought - one too expensive and i shoulds known better-, had in my hands "Der Brand" in english (but new - too expensive), and spent maybe an hour looking about the various storefronts (has two separate store fronts) and various floors - not to speak of various levels. Nice place. We bussed it to the Haight to look for another store - but it had disappeared totally.

Bus to downtown, wandered about the tourists, and BART back to Berkeley.

The people here are not new to me, but since i'm not a local, they still have surprises.

Eve and Xmas were both generally spent @ jH's and Vito's. Her family is from LA, and her P and M made the drive w. her brother. Her sister already lives here, so she was over. Spent a lot of time hanging out there these days w. only minimal rooting about in cars or whatever.

There were a number of dinners to celebrate the parents being up. On Eve we did the traditional Italian thing of fish on Eve. This trad was mixed w. a type of Filipino fish - a nice melding of families, think i. I couldn't deal w. the fish d'accord, so instead i ate a sorta Filipino egg roll type deal. Nice.

The enxt day was Xmas, and went to the Oakland catherdral for Mass - Munson dropped me off. i got there a little late, so I didnt sit w. the family @ start, but after communion I spotted them and moved seat. the deal after mass was to get something in our stomachs for lunch - we had to go through a cheaklist of "what's open on xams for us" and went through chinese and too expensive diners and stuff - and we finally decided to got the supermarket. Good choice.

So - a revelation was that Darwinas sis and bro are very kool to hang w. i will admit that the first two times i met them i didnt have the same impression of them. I'd felt that they were kinda standoffish the other two times I'd met them - but both times were @ weddings when their sister was being married - of course they had no time for me. Unfortunalelty i took that vibe from them then. But lolling about for two days of chilling, eating, and karaoke gave me a different impression of them - really, they are great to hang out w. are very chill, and - next time Im out there a highlight will be to hang out w. them. Fun kids, fun to be w.

Ah, the karaoke. Vito and his inlaws love it - im so so. For their wedding they got a machine w. tonnes of songs - and both eve and Xmas evenings were spent singing into a mic. Both nites I stayed away, but eventually heated up and sang a few songs. I started to get into it by singing along w. the others when they had the mic - and wasnt too scared when th mic finally passed into my hands. I like kar., but really prefer to be on the stage myself - who doesnt? However, i was happy that i did a few songs.

Ate a lot. Darwina, working from the AM to the PM these busy days. She had to run the dinners, although she had a little help. Everone sat around a lot - except her. She cooked a turkey - huge job and the first one here. Giant xmas feast- turkey also had cranberry, and a personal favourite - sweet potatoes. So good - took some leftovers for petite breakfast next day. Special favourite for me was what i 'brought' for the dinner - pumkin pie from that Oakland chicken sandwhich shop Vito and I visited a few days before- and whats called 'rootbeer floats' (root beer and vanilla ice cream combined - Black Cows, anyone??).

And a present. Munson and I got a present - a pair of socks each : the only xmas gift this year for me.

Ended the twonite time w. a showing of "Chuck and Buck", a deep favourite of munson - so fave'd, he owns it. Great great film about, you know, moving on in life and being who you are. It had the air of a "napoleon Dynamite" w. a Buck being someone in that role trying to write and stage a play. The plot was great, and one really looked forward to the play. Do go see it.

Hard Rock, Coco, and Joe

Wednesday / to Munsons

Switchover day. Darwinas P and M were coming up from LA for xmas, so I switched camps from Vito and Darwinas to Munson Wu's. Typical morning - cafe, read a bit on teaching writing, and off to do errands w. Vito. Untypical was washing clothes and packing then when dry. Then breakfast - another of darwinas P.HD.s frenz were over and we were detailed to collect famous chicken sandwich place to eat the chicken sandwiches that led people to line up around the corner for the famous chicken sandwiches. Took a call from Gallo. Stood in line - and since it was Wednesday, I grabbed copies of SF Weekly and East BAy Weekly (Reader type magazines) to pour over. So, we got the chicken sandwiches and raced back to the crib to eat. Four of us chowed down - famous chicken sandwiches were alritegood. Massive sandwich - so hungry gobbled down in mere minutes. Good company - Darwina's friend was chill- liked her, but not in the panting so bad style. yes, I can appreciate woman in different levels.

More errands - and later to a new part of Oakland. First to downtown oakland and a visit to a bookstore. Munson described t perfectly - not an antiquarian bookstore, but the vibe of the place is along those lines. And what a store - if it was 1980, this store would have been hopping - but just much 1975 and 1968 books and the like: and although the books were old and somewhat dispirited - and I walked away w. four (one being Futrell's History of the Air War in Korea - never did i think i'd own a copy of this book). We drive, then to a new place-near a movie theatre, another of those upscale neighbourhoods dotting this area. Fantastic - alight w. people doing last shopping deeds, women, deeply sexy, walking, and even a star citing: former Clinton Secretary of labour Robert Reich. vito spotted him - I woulda been oblivious. I really didn't get anything, but we did stop by a fancy ice cream place - it was an ice cream float for me and a cone for Vito.

Sortied w. the car full of my growing amount of luggage and went to Munsons. In opposition to the situation @ Vitos - where people were coming in for the holiday - his three roommates were all going elsewhere for Xmas. In years past Ive stayed @ Munsons in a separate room all to meself - but since there are three roomies for him now, i slept in the computer/stereo room. Fine by me. Although its a cold house, I came augmented - Vito lent me a sleeping bag that was beyond warm. Fine by me. Every once in awhile I get to sleep in a room of my own - remember, I sleep in the laundry room @ home. Anyway, I pitched tent, arraigned things, and felt @ home.

Munson is a peculiar man. Very strange - but if you know him, not. Hey - were all strange. But 'some girls are bigger than others' - and he can be mighty peculiar. And - this is why he is loved - his decision making is one of them. Well, it wasn't so strange - he just wanted to get his pecularness forward.

Our first decision was to make a choice about where to eat. Me- creature d'habit - wanted to eat @ a Chhinese shop where Munson, Drax and I ate 5 years ago. All I remember was it was @ the bottom of a hill and we three had a good time. However, we had no clue where it was - and Munson instead directed us to a drive around downtown Oakland (the EXACT streets where I had so much trouble the nite before) looking for the place. No, not here, no not there - I suspected that he was just steering us to a place he knew to be good - and, well, I figured it out and let him. I'm needing to do things different - and the thought that a Chinese-American dude who grew up in the area and has taste - well, maybe trust the guy to deliver the goods. He did.

Since i loved the Mongolian Beef that i'd had a few days before, I was wanting the same. Glad I trusted Munson. The new palce was great (called, btw, "Joy Luck" for future reference). I was certain he'd remember the place where we ate years ago - but he didnt. It had he vibe of a place where locals go- no tourists - and came complete w. tanks of fish ready to be eaten. tea wonderful. So, as Munson stated, I now have the name of this place - I can return.

We had another stop before i took up temp. residence @ munsons - a movie decision. I wantd to get some flix to chill w. and he openly stated that there were only 4-5 movies a year that he enjoys, and anything I choose would most likely not to his liking. Tuff chice, but i told him Im pretty mallable and that there are literally hundreds of films I could see and enjoy. So, after chinese we went to some giant video store. Im so used to getting movies through the Chicago Public Library these days - havent set foor in a video store in a few years now. GIANT store, w. every movie ever. Lots of chix. Spent about 30-45m walking the place, and he returned not w. one film, but w. three - I could choose. We got two - after saying he hated Keanu, he allowed me to get "The day the world stood still". He also choose a terrible film about two boys.

It was late by now. But we watched "stood still" - not very good. sleep late into the morning.

Tuesday/ The Mission

mission.1
creature of habit, romantic of the sentimental type, of the favouritist places in the world, the Mission District in San Francisco is a place I always like to go and hang out in. It's a place streaked w. wonder. Very urban - buildings 3-4-5 stories nicely stacked on the streets, crowded always, Latino, Asian, gay, and massed w. total freaks of all types (outside of Amsterdam, this population is the freakest city of any I've visited - no other is close), all these book stores, LP stores, kool bars and clip eateries: it's the totaly joy to experience. Think of a more expansive Wicker Park w. less white people and more freaks. Even BART even runs under it - by far it's the most compelling urban area in the city. No where close.

And there is something more - the personal history for me. When I started to visit Vito and Rocky in SF, this was the neighourhood they lived in - and us being young men, we really worked the neighbourhood. So many places to go or do - hell, even going somewhere else entailed , y know, walking thru the area. And walking - it's one of the flat areas of the city w. rite angel streets, making navigating easier that the hills on passes and windy streets that can confuse in other neighbourhoods. But all those long visits of earlier years - this must be the 15x i'm in this city in - really imprinted my ind here. Although I have never lived her, i'd spend 2wks in summer, two weeks @ xmas or a week on Spring Break and just lounge w. the boys. And it's be like the neighbourhood I lived in - peek out to see the weather, runout to the store for a Coke, grab aquick bite, etc... And the people who lived in the area - soon enough, others who I knew were in the neighbourhood. Bonniax Young was I- as were my frenz. So, as in Chicago, I have my places here where I once walked/swam/hunted.

Boogaloos
And one of my mostus hnting grounds of all time is a diner for hiposters called Boogaloos. Corner of 22d and Valencia. Been around all that time, and still the bumper crowds. Back in ther first days for me, April 1996, we'd go there for a late breakfast from time to time. Neighbourhood place. BAck then it was supposed to have a lesbian twist to it, but not really - mita started out like that, but by my time there it was just strewn w. freaks. How could y not like it? Fully know that other places in SF are also freakstrewn, but this was the place near the crib in the neighbourhood - perfect. Each time I went to California, I'd go back to sup., twice if I could.

Eventually, people strted to move out of the neighbourhood. The Folsom place went condo, and the original dudes - (Vito, Rocky, JLaw, and Cliffhouse) went their seperate ways - like an April '69 of the Beatles. To Oakland, to the Haight, to Alamedia, To Santa Cruz: to all parts around the area. The Mission became not the place to wake up in the morning and walk to Phils for a soda - The Mission now became a place to ..... visit. Indeed, tho' never lived there, it feels like one of the old neighbourhoods I used to live in. Swam/hunted/walked.

But still there is Boogaloos. Knew I'd end up here @ least once - and Tuesday of my latest visit was to eat there and walk the Mission. Vito and I drove in - executive decision not to BART because of the variety of places we were going ot visit. Vito was going to visit a frend who still lved in the Mission and since I wanted to burn @ Boogaloos, it was decided to co-oincide occurances and have a luncheonette for trois.

Lovely girl, of course. Beyond lovely. Slender young white girl, you know the type.Had met her before briefly - enjoyable to sittdwn and sup for a longer time and experience. She'd live din Chicago previously and presently worked as a nanny - I reasked Vito her university when I heard the job, forgetting that Vito had already told me that she's a Depaul grad. Hmm.

Cafe. Waitresses nothing spectacular. S'alright. Eggs. Able to steal the New York Times Science Times section - Section 1 nowhere to cull. Sausages. More cafe. Girls to watch in and out. Brilliant.

Delightful conversation. Talk of Jacob - I really had nothing much else. Frans situation and deals. Her relationship w. her rightous dude - 'finally, @ long last ...' And funnily, the conversation slanted after a bit - who wants to talk to me when Vito is there? She had things to say, and when the time ran near, they had to come out. This is not complaint, just amusing to see her air what she needed in the time remaining. Wait - Vito has the air of a priest about him as well? I learn new all the time.

Mission.2
Out (Cue "Can't buy me Love"). She left and the two boys were left to their original devices - walking the Miission. Now, there wer two factors @ play
- we didnt have all day, because Vito was to shop w. Darwina later.
-the last time an expansive Yellow Pages and Internet search of every bookstore/LP store/thrift shop in the Mission was back in the 1990's

:

So! No way this was gonna be a 'blasting our way into the senctor of Stalingrad'* type Mission mission where we'd spend so much time walking and shopping that evening rations would also be had on the Battlefield of the Mission - we were here for but a bit time, to hit reasonable targets in a reasonable amount of time, and then go. So, very appearantly, two bookstores near 21st and 20th and Valencia i think, were hit.** Again, the amount of times these shops have been firebombed over the last 13-14 years was staggering - and, in chomping up new books for me, en eye to yesterday's 13-14 years) happenings always close @ hand. In one store I got two postcards - I felt I should support the indy bookstores, and no book did I want @ the prices they were offering. In the other I didnt get anything. Walked to Market Street and stopped into a deeply kool thrift stor. Straight to book section - Vito had to race and rescue la voiture from possible parking problems - and I gobbled yp cheap volumes : 2 Hornby works (still no on Fever Pitch, alrady read but a need to own cheaply), The Chomsky Reader - yes, 1987 copyrite date but $2), an an economic history of Medievil England (what year is this in my life, 1989??) and a 'how to' book on Bolo Russel Terriers - the more I know of the type maybe the more I can help him. And, the women, out of this world SEXY, shopping for this or that nicknack knocked this boy out. Y know: "Girl Crazy, c'est Moi". Sexy girl? Gets better. The next stop was a tiny thrift store on Market. I'd wanted bad to return to a massive bin of a thrift store where I'd gotten a wondeful leather 'briefcase w. shoulder srap' a plusdecade ago : I wasnt to get what I wanted. But, w. time runinng, Vito and I again split up - he wanted to get secret stuff for the wife and her stopped @ this botique and that while I went to the tiny shop. It was a 'vintage' type thrift place - no books, but the delightful brunette w. the belly baring vintage top to chheck my parcel w., the slender young white girl coming out of the dressing room w. the belly bearing tite tshirt asking her frenz how it looked (How did it look? How did it look? ASK ME: I WILL TELL Y HOW LOVELY YOU LOOK @ THIS MOMENT I TIME!!).

Absent Rocky
Vito on the field fone, contactin goanother of the Folsom Four. JLaw - who has lived in four residences in a three block radius in the Mission over aperiod of maybe 16 years - was also walking the district. Arrangenments were made to meet up and walking patterens were set to collide. JLaw, deeply laid back dude, a teacher for years, and a Folsom Four - wonderful to hook w. again. Our msiion was to vacate the Mission and go to Ameoba's in the Haight - for yet another of the FF were there: Cliffhouse***.

But first, quickduck of a doorway or two, a sitting and chatting outside of the car, gossips exchanged, jenky exploited and swamped, memories laughted w., good feelings for me to be in the three man team about to be expaned by another, and off into the sprawlling yards of this massive record store**. Huge. No way to get to CHouse w/out help. But first some CD shopping. Basically the shop is so large that every LP ever minted probably was buyable close @ hand. Staggered by the volume and w/ no real plan. So, I wandered a bit dazed, and bits of "oh yeah, that group maybe" flicked across the synapses from tie to time. Coulda used Johnny Gunners for a time like this. But did buy: finally Os Mutantes in my hands, the 2007 Liars LP, and something old - Luna's "Bewtiched", stolen from me -8-9years ago. C.house came out and chatted a bit - but being @ work, concversation was perfunctionary and quick and plans were made for a 4.15drink (clockout time) @ Kezars, a nearby pub. We hung, a round became another when Chouse joined up, and then the dissolving plans w. an eye for the nite.

Folsum no Longer for these Two
These men do not live on Folsum anylonger - so, after the drinx, we went to drop off JLaw and carry onto to Cliffhouse for an Aunt I'd Like to hello. First, an hour chilling in the Mission/owned not rented crib of JLaw and Wife. and two little ones. House rife w. the evidense of children. Running, rambling, toys astrew. Again the thought popped into me head "How the hell do parents do it? what Invisible Sun gets them the energy?" We chilled @ the kitchen table, talked, saw the yard - (A yard! In S.F.! Grass! No vegtables, but that's only yet.). One kid ate her eggs, the other did not. Shy to me, not to uncle Vito. Shamelss Vito, playing the "Santa" trick w. his phone (Get the phone to ring, up pops "Sabnta's" face and name. Watch the kids face turn to wonder. ). Quick popoutpopback's to the laundry room. Th wife, whose pedigree streaches back to Folsum Street, has always been a relaxed wonderperson, easy to chill w.. Our visit ended too soon- but off to CliffAunts.

They had lived lasttimes I was here way down oceanside of S.F. and south! but still City. Now it was off 19th and middle of S.F. Vito and I found it nice, and while he left because of commitments - I stayed. We hung, we talked of planes, and we practiced what planes do in war. No, not firebombing, but something of a different order - precision bombing w. fighter bombers. It was nice. Here, finally, was the first time in, say, six weeks, when I could finally partake in a full scale raid - and so i did. Ate a bit and chilled.

Soon Cliff and I broke out to see the neighbourhood. San Fran has its level places - and also its mountainous parts. Ciffhouse and Aunt do not exactly live in a cliffhouse - but a walk this way and thru there and Cliffy and I were doing our best Malloy up stairs numbering a hundred+ and then another numbering 60+ and then , finally, w. lites out (he'd brought a torch for just this purpose) on the side of the mountain : we crested the mountain. Below us was a magnificant view of western San francisco - lit up grandly was Richmond and Sunset, bisected by Golden Gate Park - and a magnificant view to our right. Very impressive. There are pix - but later. Went back, refilled the ammo, and soon I had to go. Vito called and reminded me that there was but an hour to escape San francisco via BART or be stuck there. So, trammed it to downtown SF and down into the BART station.

The Long Leg home
I get myself in trouble many times. Incidents near the 95th Street El station - too many times. That time on the El where I had to 'put up my dukes' to scare off an attacker when I was headed to a job interview. The worst - Market Garden I. And now: the Long Leg home. I got off the BART @ 12th Street in Oakland, and w.out looking @ my map, I took off. Downtown Oakland in brilliant during the day masses of peoples and activity- but here I was lost and circling and obviously struggling in the deeply deserted and darkened downtown. There were patches of activity and lites ablaze - but there were also chicagolong blocks w. no obvious escape points and to wander in seemed dangerously foolhardy. Topping it off was my fogheadedness - i was befuddled beyond. Toppermost, I was too scared to whip out the map, and when I did - my eyes were not good enough to see the fine point on it in the failed lite.

And then came the shady types. Across the street. Where's the escape point? There- short run will deliver me to that lit area. WHat's thta guy doing? Drug dealer? Nah, gotta be a prostitute, rite? Safe on that one. Ok, this guy - across the street - lets rev and cut ahead of him. Ok, here it goes - three guys, and here they come. Catch each in the eyes as the near, show'm i'm aware.

Eventually, in front of a small vietnemese or Korean food shop open late, light and safe enough to consult the map allowed me to figger out the coordinates back to Lake Merrit. So groceried, I started to walk in what I felt was the correct direction. And yes, I believe it was the way - and it was. After 2-3 streets passed I came upon finally an unambigiously correct cross street totally pointed out on the map. A few blocks later - an open Macdonald, lites, and a final look @ the map - Clear way home.

Now all I had to do was circle the lake grandly and find the small street up. But first. By now i knew the way back - but. still feelig unsure, I walked quick and w. purpose and w. a rolled up newspaper in my rite hand (read it's a means to warn off attacker - funny how just naturally it appears in my hand before thinking 'oh I should do that'). So, I circled the lake, enjoying nearing the end of my oddessy and watching the twee birdies sleeping floating- and there was another pause. two women, cycling, on a patch of the lake where there wasn't a person w.in me in 3/4 of a mile - just had - JUST HAD - to encounter trouble w. their bikes RITE NEXT TO ME. No, not a mile that way upshore or a mile this way upshore or anywhere in between on the TOTALLY DESERTED lake- they had to encounter trouble RITE NEXT TO ME. No way was I biting - I knew the bike was fine and all was done just to get me to interact -so on I sailed.

Took awhile but I had to sweat finding the approach street - and then one last final worry. It was a local resident facing the other way having a ciggerette up the hill on a narrow side street- but I didn't know. And after the heavy gauntlet of worry I'd run - I just wanted to get in a relax. As I approached i caughed out a warning to him that i approached - and when he turned, it was a recognizably an old dude. Cross street finally crossed, a quick look to the left - and there were Vito and darwinas Xmas lights.

Done.

............................................................

*=the idiom being infantry combat, c. 1942
**=the idiom being WW2 airbombing raids, the P.O.V. being form thr bombers.
***=yes yes yes, lame. Got a better one, Rocky??

cafe

cafe

thnx 'aunt i'd like to f.'

Kiss

Monday

Morning
Did things like wake and showered and Darwina showed me how to make the cafe 'communist' style (not a giant 12 cup drip which the last 20 years has accustomed me to - this was a 'grind the beans, pour in the hot water, slowly push this device down into the cruched cafe beans, etc etc etc... even to use a towel to keep the stuff warm while you drink the stuff you just poured - really kool to learn)in the morning.

Vito was on a work tilt this day, and the plans were to go to Berkley and shop for books - every time I am here a cherished activity.I walked meself to downtown Oakland - beautiful place, btw, w. tonnes of great and gorgeous buildings - and took the bus - the wrong bus, tho' thankfully wrong only by degrees and not total directions - towards Berkley. Seems I took one that generally went in the rite direction, just angled away. I was originally told 'maybe this buses 'd be best for this trip', and when I got to talking to Munson he told me different was better. However, that first bus line # was imprinted on my brain, so much so that when I got ot he correct busstop and the imprinted bus# rolled up, I happily jumped aboard. It was 20m i I realised my mistake - outhopped and hiked the 3/4m to Munsons.Chilled for a bit. Nice to be back here - last two times in San Francisco area this was my temphome.

Moes et Al
We took Munsons truck into town. He's rather proud of his vechicle - a white pickup truck he's had for 18years. He wants to keep it forwever- you can do things like that in California (no salt in winter) and he will, knowing him. It was ashort drive, and out we went. First stop a as pot of food. Up and down we walked, me brainbugged about getting one of this wonderful California bugers fro some of the famous chains they have here - Cals was the one I wanted after a chance Darwina remark about their tastiness. Instead, we went into a healthy burger type place - fulled w. tourists - and filled on fries, burger, and Coke (trying to cut it down, finally). I've eated there before and enjoyed it - did so again.

Moes was first, and got a few books. Wanted to get more, but realised that i could return. A book on German civilians during the ww2, 1968 by the author of Cod (not Salt as I originally planned to purchase). I also saw that Bobby Sands book and In Hazrd- but too high a price. Again, can come back. Moes was just glorious. I love this place. Hugh four story building, filled w. varying books. Mainly hung in the history section - military history, excuse me - but let myeyes wander over others - irish, France, political (Thom Hartmann is being targeted, as well as Michael Parenti), and novels (In Hazard and, tho' ive read it, Fever Pitch - something about wanting to physically have the book I've read. I spent too much time there, and worried about the truck - it had a two hour timespace to be legally parked, and in between eating and meandering @ Moes, the 2h was probably up. So, relucantly, I went downstairs to purchase. Munson located- I wanted the guy to page but instead he shouted "MUNSON!!". Shapspeare and Compay was across the street, and tho' it's a B-10 to Moe's B-29idness, I always get stuff from there as well. AMong the Dead Cities, about the morality of bombing civilians in WW2, was added. Started to worry - as i always do - about the sheer weight of books Im gonna be hauling back to Chicago. Well,nows not the time ..... later.

And a hat. Years ago on another trip to Clifornia the trunk of the car we were driving was broken into and among things lost was my avourite hat of all time. II'd found it on the El one day in Chicago, and although I fell knew that it was a womans hat, I also realised that it was fun and fairly unique for me to wear. Lost, howver, to SF thevies. That trip I needed another hat, and went into the Berkely Hat Company to try to finmd a replacement. My prized lost hat had turned out to be unique - @ least to this point - and Ive never been able to reproduce its glory anywhere. But that trip the hat I bought to replace my lost hat has turned out to ave afamous enough perigree of time speant on my head - and so I now prize it heavy. No, never was able to replace the original - but it's a nice second. SO, 10y after I went into the place Munson and i go again - to try and get copies of the hat for my nephew. Again, no go - the second hat's design is now lost to time (I need to keep a good reign o it so second hat doesnt get lost - i did misplace it for 2d @ Vito and Drawinas). But, inevitably, i got another black winter hat. $18. Womans design, gotta be. I wonderv- in 10y time will I return, to this hat store, looking for a copy of Third Hat? Time will tell.

We had a quickstop @ Norman Village - wait, what village called? It's a bizzare collection of condos dabsmacked in Berkley wher all the house look like - well, a modern version of Norman Village. Munson drove up a small winding lane, hard to get through, and we sited the buildings. Nite was fullon, so sites wer not able to be brightly illuminated - but again a different sorta place. I'm not sure of the history of the place.

BAck to Munsons to chill. Rocky's Lover from a bit back was there visiting- her son and his girlfriend live there. It wa snice to see her - Ive spent a bit of time hanin gout w/ her when I stayed w. Rocky in Sabnta Cruz in years past. The son Rex Immediately wanted to know about Roxx and um, well, rite in front of the old Lover? I didnt stay too -I'd be back staying @ Munsons before long - so he dropped me off @ the BART stop and back to Oakland I went.

Pizza dinner
There were plans to stop again and get most delicious pizza thatw e'd eaten on Friday. Asmall hole in the wall, but super great. I walked nother of Lake Merrit this time and .....well, got real worried bacuse it seems i was lostw =and would never get to the place. wandered a lot - a real lot - but I was on The Track afterall. I get worried when I start to meander and it's nite and Im sorta lost - but this nit it finally worked out. I kinda stayed w. familier walking areas an dused the interanl compass - and lo, there I was. Our planned strategam was for me to get there, feign like I didnt know what we wanted to order, and then ask to use their fone so Vito knew I was close and could collect me. A Charm. And, again, best was the three of us munching on the good stuff. Sate. Stomachs. Hope to return @ least one more time before I have to go.

Sunday

Woke up, and sick it was. a terrible sickness, tho' not tempered by that ultimate sign of hangover: vomit. But wait... Bottles in the bin of recycle trumpet the condition - i drank that much? Well, not quite - but 90% yes. And so the reduced speed.

The Lords Prayer
I was to catch mass @ St. Patricks Cathedral - forced myself out of the house early w. the remand to myself comeon: you wanted to return there. you know the time. you have the time. and it fits into time and space for sequences later in the morning. Get it done.

What to get done? A favoured San Francisco visit of a decade ago = when it was The Original Four (Vito, Rocky, Jonny Law, Cliffhouse) of Folsom time, I managed to hit St. PAtricks for four masses in nine days - xmas, the Sunday next to it, then New Years, and the Sunday next to it: all on a simple bike ride fro The Mission. The need for thee eternal return stemmed from the lovely singing of significant parts of the mass. Done unlike ever before/since - and it was this morning, a decade later, that I was to see if I could catch that magic again.

It was the Lords Prayer - a single organ and a single woman (yes beautiful, but it was her voice for once that superseded all), a slow, soaring, beautiful version, singular, washes over. Just her and the organ. That first time it hit me - by the third mass in those nine days there was my hunger to hear it displayed - and here, after a decade - I was back to worship it - and praise Jesus - again.

But - um - if only I could make it. I showered up, clothed down, and hiked out, understanding that hangover do not last forever. Determined me to make my way as best I can instead of people dropping me off - I flanked Lake Merrit to the south and then west to the 12th Street BART. Staggered I was by the bird life on the "lake" (Vito : its an estatucary) - gulls and mallards, of course, but also black little things, pelicans, varying cranes, etc. I took snaps, but none too many are pro. But the birds ... wanted to get a guide book for WESTERN USA.

BART ride was fine - but then: there was a long climb up the stairs in the downtown San Francisco stop to the surface, and the dizziness and need to vomit hit. The stairs I had to climb - tall steep mutherfuckers - staggered me bigtime. Thoughtflashes of "go back, lie on the couch, recover" mixed w. "fight, yr close, it'll pass, just rest". Sweated, felt the churning ... felt it pass enough ... gathered, up, up - but this time the escalator - into daylite.

And, Mass!
Again, after a wander this way and that to bearings straight, needed stop @ a donut shop to get anything inside to help w. the Churn, and final approach for sure this is it.

Yep - same church. An Advent Sunday again. Strong amounts of people - filled way. Tourists and Filipino parishioners maxed out. Me late - after the two readings and the Gospel came the Sermon - and me in the middle of it. Booked back for the readings - uninspiring and not dwelled upon. Remembered remark by Father was something about pornography in a list of bad things because it leads to 'selfabuse' an' all 'at. But for me, it was survival that stood center.

Catholic Masses emphasize a lot of standing, sitting, kneeling, in varying orders. And sitting. Soon, for me, the terrible state of my stomach lead me to an ALL Sitting Policy that I followed thu' till the end of mass - no Holy Communion for me, even.

Bu there WAS The Lords Prayer. Only - well, I guess I'll have to back when St. Patricks ain't having a choir. My Masses a decade past were off hours, and the music was restricted to that single singer and keyboardist. Here they had a full twenty voices. Now, don't get me wrong - The Lords Prayer was sung, and maybe even in the same pace - but here was an example where one beats twenty. Well sung - but not, say, 1997. I'd figured. I was kool wit it.

Marshalls above All
Plan was to go to a local sweets place (Papa Beard?)and wait for Vito and Munson Wu. In I went, struggling, but grateful for the chance again to stomach something that mite antichurn the stomach. So I got - can you believe it - GREEN TEA and a few mini croissants (brilliant). Now, I like tea as much as the rest (well, maybe Gf, Mom, and Darwina rank me in that aspect, and mightily), but if I go into some place for drink it'll usually be Coke or Pepsi or whatnot - a cafe, too. But teas seemed the soothing option. Not bad. Sat outside, waited justa bit, and frenz came. They also ate a bit, we chilled, I mended mainly (nagging headache the rest of the day), and we slipped the ways and were off.

Vito needed a hat, so we processed a few stores that turned out to not have what he wanted or was too dear, so my continual bugging for Marshalls was finally heeded. I admit to ulterior motives - I wanted to see what sports gear - specifically soccer jerseys - they carried here. An Earthquakes jersey would have been kool. Vito got his hat - I was the one who said "Hey- what about this one?", I got a USA jersey and a $10 tie (oh arent we the posh one, actually picking up a tie @ Price when ususally the price is thrift store style or a frenz donation (Crankfaces from a few weeks ago are getting heavy rotation in school). Not bad. Crowded place. Gang of tourists. Comme Moi, I suppose.

The Winter Solstice
It was the Pacific Ocean we were after on this day. We were discussing the Winter Solstice and Xmas and Happy Holidays and all that, and Vito had found a Solstice celebration on the strand - and on Saturday we decided to go. Getting there was a longdistance haul. San Francisco is a small little compact place, really - yes, there are the mountains in the way - but we went full East to full West by tram and it took a spot of time. Further, we got off to eat close to the beach. (Place fantastic. Munson ate fish soup - ugg - and Vito (?): but I had the glorious Mongolian Beef. Too embarrassed to ask for beef Chop Seuy. Glad I didnt. Another reminder to try different things. Mental note to return to this place in future. Now - on a street and in a neighbourhood w. several thousand Chinese restaurants - will we even remember which one it was?).

Nite fell. Beach was hit. We were late for the 'official' start - we figgered that there would be some big todo and mills of people about a giant fire - but whenwe hit the beach and turn full North towards where the thing was supposed to be - we finally stumbled upon a few small bonfire seperated about on the beach. Maybe 5, or so. 75 people @ most.

Well, not exactely what we expected- but it wa sok. For me @ least, it was fun to be a the APcific w. my good frenz. Some lady w. a dog. pictures taken in the lowering light. We walked north--back to a bus line (me want to tram it back - but they arent so fascinated by the very idea of a tram. and so we wnet back. Bus to downtown SF. Into Bart for the Transbay return. And back to my temporary home @ Vito and Darwinas. Sick no more. But tired.

The first 24h

Vito and I winged North and West and across the bay bridge and into Oakland and stopped by a pizza place that had Rocky type delicious pizza (yeah, mf, yr shits that good) to take back to the house. Got in, decamped my shit into jh office. Wait - an office? w asnt I supposed to get a real bed to lay me weary bones on? Lovely for a single nite: NO!! That east coast storm had really fucked up travel, and so one of jh's gard school buddies had to camp out to try to desperatley sort out her flite back to DC. She was in the area to finalize her PhD in lit from Berkely - yes, these are the circles of jH mileau - and , in fact, Slinkywonderful was so Officially Doctored on this snowy nite. However impressive that ewas to me - very, btw - what was more impressive was how sexy this woman was. My style - skinny young white girl. That her mind was CalPhD worthy made her even sexier. Since she had to stay the extra nite, I was to sleep on the floor - totally kool. the funny talk went that maybe we would share the bed in the room - only funny talk, but .... well, it wa funny talk AND exciting talk. Girl crazy characterizes my mindset as I further away from beloved gf. We go as we move, I guess.

I was fuckin tired beyond belief, but I stayed up a bit. Excited more than just sexually - it was great to see the homeowners in their new home - uh,just fun to see them period. But they are new owners, and the place iis incredible. I was expecting a slite place like their last rental, bu this is a proper place, filled w. wood and rooms and fireplaces and books. I love it. There came the time later where I was tasked to decide which was the better house - this or Munson Wu's. I shut up and proffed no opinion. There's moe to the house as well. finally Vito, like me a decade earlier, takes after the Father. the yard here is huge for the area - no, one can't start having soccer games out there, but its big. It looks lke he inherited a terraced garden area, and since jH is Maam Organic to the max, all the stuff out there is super special seeds. looks fun - he's even got the fruit trees going on (one inhertied, but severl fig trees planted by Mr. A. when vitos parents were out over Thanksgiving). The house is key.

Despite the terrible tradegedy of my sleepdeprived bodymindsoul, I woke up spades easly the next morning. Despite vacation, despite Saturday, still my schedule of body arisings was attaried to Chicago. So, wakey wakey before 7am local - well, it'd be about 830h back home. Various errands ran - w. jH to do the shopping (ONE thing was non organic in the cart - wonderful the devotion) and since I just love to grocery shop - have I even told you that? - I was delighted to accompany.

Vito and I also stopped by the Oakland cathedral. New in 2008, moderest to its core, it was a fun place to stop by. basically the sole catholic superstition I still partake in (Unless you consider it all a superstition - another time, y'all) is "when you enter a church you have never been in for the first time ever, say 10 Hail mary's and 10 Lords Prayer and yr wish will be granted. My wishes are puerly Catholic - "the souls of my Father and Brother and Sister and Neice and Son and ancestors, expecially my grandparents on both sides and Aunt Marion. Strenght for my Mom and nephews and neices, my sisters and their husbands, my frenz, my students and colleuges, my soccer players and fellow coaches, Bolo, and lite to those Americans who have none, my country and the World" We all need strenght. Went into the gift shop and Vito and I looked over the stuff there - eventually bought a cross (despite knowing this was a horrible torute execution device, as it's been pointed out) and saints cards. Often times I know not what to pray unless, well, you know, it's a church i'm entering for the first time... - then I have very clear prayers and petitions in mind) and Saints cards. On the back of the cards there are small prayers, so i got the following: St. john the baptist (he knew Jesus), St. Joesph (not @ all because he knew Christ but because he is the partent sait of worker - specfically because its always been such a thing I eed help w.), St. martin de Porress (because when my brother was sick we had a cloth touched by his bones and Mom used to pray to him specfically for my brother. It didnt work as bro died when he was 6 and me 2, but I wanted to emphesiz ethat despite that, i stillbelieve, whatever believe means...), Our lady of Knock (Irish themed - and the one card least popular since there were more than any other card left), and St. Micheal the Archangel - my favourite piece of art in the Art Institute of chicago - and to defend us in battle.

Nite was centered around dinner. Jh's sister and a couple they know came over. Slinkywonderful stayed but for soup - quick drive to drop her off @ BART and goodbye sexy - and back to dinner. Meantime I'd said NYET to a short call to matt Jenke and forced a stop @ a liquor store. Despite the Communist influences here, one cans till get cider and guinness @ the local grocery. Dinner was great - chicken, potatoes, carrots, carmelized to wonderousness. Made the comment it was Gallos we were @.

And it was fun to hang. I will amidt that jH's sister was a bit of a mystery to me in times past. But it was chill and enjoyable this time. The couple LA and Hawaii - were also totally kool. I have lotsa social fears - deeply do i feel the love of frenz and family and colleuges and students - but the fear of strangers prevades. Since I wasn't jackling it up, that sorta fear wasnt present. Later we got out the Karoke machine, and funned for a longwhile on that - vito is Karokemaximus.

The sidelite was that I'd drank way too much. I was having a fun time, and the drinx flowed. The next day I would pay, and pay horribly.

People - Bless you Blacky

Traveling to the West Coast

Good fuck what a fucking chore. totally destroyed and needin' the RandR' of vacation - here I was taking the El to O'hare. No need to race - flite left @ 1845h, and I knew I'd get there a few h early. Straight there. While the weather was ok o the El up - it started to deteriorate while I waited. There was CNN on the telly in the waiting areas - I was wanting news on the terrible failure to try and get some sorta rational system of healthcare in America - and it showed that while all Antarctica was collapsing on the East coast, those of us going in the other direction just had to bludgeon thru' the obvious winterweatheralert demarcation line halfway thu' the great State of Illinois that denoted masses of airborne ice and we'd be free. That is, as soon as the deicers worked their magic on my planes wings (since it flew thu' that line in the sky coming West to East).

So: an hours delay to add to my sleep addled bodymindspirit - to be followed by uncomfortable flite out. I llove to fly - still an enjoyable experince after say 40 roundtrips in my life whereever - little kid me. Not on a B-29 here, but still I can pretent warobssessed style the same experince - well, w.out the enemy fighters, the radar directed flak, and the firebombing of the citizens below. Love planes.

And forwhatever reason I did not want to sleep. The nite before was a flurry of activity. Needed to finish a film for school, final pack, and be sad for mom and Bolo as I was leaving. Couldnt nap as I'd planned- so tired all day friday. Had thought about sleep on plane - 4h in air, woulda been nice - but no. Instead, read a lot of The Wages of Destruction and a writing book (proud me - here I was doing 'work' even tho' in first hours of 2 weeks off!). I had planned to try to kill of Wages this break, but the thin g about dense 700 paged books on economic history is ... well, they're dense 700p books on economic history. But: parts read on plane very good and flowing. Finished my target chapter in flite and was sated. The Writing Workshop book also flowed. Hm - that's a good idea - I gotta incorporate that.

Also Elf: the movie. Inflite movie was, um pretty good. Seen it before, but it was ok. A Simpson's episode. And a nature show. Inflite radio had "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" which I heard 3x and kept missing "Poker Face" by Lady Ga GA - until rite before we landed. Great songs.

And the sailor next to me. Poor dude - 22 y.o., from Alaska, just done w. boot camp and seeing his family in Seattle. Poor? Shit, man, would y like to be in the USN? God bless all of our kids in the service - but there was that nagging feeling whenever any young person tells me they're in the service. He has lots of experience on the sea - he fished for 2weeks @ a time w. his dad when younger. he also hunted in Alaska. Mutherfucker hunts w. am AK-47. true. So, a little jealous was me - no, although I eat up all the meats, im too hypocritical to actually do my own slaughtering. Good kid. Hope it all works out.

And then there were the chix. The glorious one who sat behind me - dark hair, the black boots presently in fashion this season, and the black shirt lovelyunbuttoned up top. Sexy. The one a few rows up w. the little t shirt. And mutherfuckers TRY to claim there is no God?!?!?!?! Fuck all'a'y'all. Seeing this sorta evidence would make a good case in the Supreme Court as to some sorta design going on. Fuck the one behind me could totally convince me that dinosaurs walked the Earth 6,000 years ago for sure.

Flite lasted 3h and 57m and 30s. Since I had only one carryon w. me I could walk straight offa da plane and out. That one carryon thing - I had crammed everything into one bag and then layered meself up so my body could function as another pack. I didn't realize that, well, the one carryon rule meant that I could carry that bag AND A BACKPACK. So, maybe I coulda brought a bit more of a diverse bit'o' clothes. Oh well. Whatever. Nevermind.

So - ander w. a purpose out, walk for say 30s out of SFO's terminal to scout about - and there pulls up Vito.....

The American Hero

School Week finale

Warned it would be a crazy lastweek. many of the kids dinna like their home lives, so - bizzarely, y'know - they hate when school ends. Even when we load the kids on the bus to go home, many act out just cause they want to stay. True. However, I have had some of the best experiences this week - I deemphesized the scholarly aspect and heightened other aspects. F.ex., the book most classes are reading is Monster by Walter Dean Myers. It involves a trial of a 16yr old boy possibly involved in a murder/stickup in a NYC bodega. More than just a trial transcript - scenes of beatings and rape in prison as the kid is held there.

So, I started the talk about "eating dinner @ frenz house ..... saw a movie .... involved a war between Irekand and England .... so guys, these were soldiers, and determined to prosecute the war inside the prison .... they got letters and messages out ..... how did they do it?" ..... "So, the English eventually found out what they were doing.... how did they stop it?" "Good. Good. Good." "O.K., these is one thing the guards did...... this is another the guards did....they had the prisoners 'run the guantlet', which reminds me of when I played @ St. Rita football (careful no mention that the 'St. Rita' team is not in fact the high school team - a high profile thing in Chicago - and not the grammer school team I actually played for - a high profile thing only in the Old Neighbourhood)" and us running backs (careful to mention that I was a running back and not on the line -I touched the ball and not just blocked - any boy recognizes the higher profile of that) had to run between a gang of players each trying to strip us of the ball - it helped us not to fumble and so help our whole team - this is what happened also to the soldiers in prison - they'd beat the hell out of these guys and then ..... "

Eventually it leads back to the book.

"So, these guys in prison - these are the conditions dese guys live under. So, in the book, there's the second witness Zinzi ..... why is this guy testifying when he has nothing to do w. the crime? Ok, so he wants to avoind being raped. If you were under these conditions, would y testify to get in better conditions? Yeah? But - and here's the whole deal of it - can y believe Zinzi? Would you? And, that's kinda the point of this book - y are to act as the jury, and........"

A deep learning process for me. Real deep. Helps that Gallo helps as well, Hunger and that. Bless you, sir. Sorta like he sent the puck cross ice rite to me in front of the net to Secord it in. Goal, his ___ of the year, scored by #51, Virgil Hilts. Assist by #___ , Vincent Gallo. @ 18.15 of the First Period. The "Vee Line" scores again.

Thursday and Friday were basically given over to the grand attempt to calm the kids down and prevent fites and 'running the halls.' Yup, this is the kinda school I'm @. And, I love it. On friday, my whole body was almost totally destroyed by the strain and the wane of energy. Terrible toll this place exacts. In truth, it's a school un;ike any other in cps. School has a long history - the principle, deep love of this place as this is her last year here after decades - the Peace Corps for her next year - likes the repeat the mantra that "This school was special before the was special ed." Luckily Friday was ok - it took about 5-6- 7 -8 minutes of concentrated action to corral the kids into their classrooms - the second floor, man, just loves to play that shit, and this day was additionally not 'corral friendly' but after that it was kool. Pizza parties, school musical show to take us thru' the AM, then chill went the afternoon.

I was totally beat. The whole year so far has been so fucking unlike my experince. Ive been full time @ horribly challenged schools - but each kid here is a shockinhg world to themselves. Iw as warned, but always pointed to my Second Lieutenantt bars on my collar : "I have been in battle and led charges across machinegun swept fields". But this schools a trip. And I recognize how lucky I am. Again, for the millionth time, there is the opportunity here to call out to my men, in the words of Winters: "Follow Me!"

The Blue Man Fry/ Sunday the 13th

Blue

Big day. Lots going on. North side. One of the teachers @ the school loves taking the kids out for stuff, so he enlisted me to help w. four kids going to see Blue Man group. Never been there mesself, so I was excited - it wasn't just a school on a Sunday for me. Job one for me was to collect one kid and take him to the Briar Theatre and meet the others there - but when I got there, the kid was already gone - a mess up. Quick call, phone delivered to me as I talked to the kids Mom, rectified the slip up - the other teacher had gotten the wrong kid. Met @ the Walgreens @ 63d and Kedzie and off we went.

There is always the balance w. telling the kids too much. Since the kid I was driving is, well, a Marquette Parker, I wanted to show off my neighbourhoods brite spots: once again, this is where we swam/walked/hunted/. So, the water tower on top of the Colony Building where we hunted. The alleys of Kedzie where we walked. And the library on 61st where we swam. And on. I guess this is ok - but what about deeper stuffs? I've been processed - that means my prints were taken - three different times, and in custody- that'd be cuffed and in the back of a squad car - another ten times. It gets out in school - but I do hold back bunches.

Blue Man group was the theatre experience of this day. Again, never been - and I'm glad I got to go. Wish I coulda brought gf - but we go on. How as it? Fantastic - of course. Very playful, very inventive, very good. They had the three dudes and three musicians. I'm not gonna bother blathering on about the different bits involved - but all were entertained. Of course the show has been running for 9 years (w. rad changes to get return action) so I knew the basic premise - but of course allowed myself to be be surprised. Many of the best parts were when the audience was involved - hot as hell girl got invited up on stage - no need to feel guilty for admiring her and her shirt as of course she was on stage, and where else should i look? I loved when the dudes went into the audience and picked out people to go on stage - no, didn't want to go. I wondered if the people were picked out beforehand - dunno. And one of the spots I liked best was when +++++spoiler alert+++++ a couple came in late and the guys stopped the whole show, a siren went off, a spotlite showed on them and cameras followed their progress to the seats on the huge screen behind the stage. Great!!! And there were plenty of things like that. I totally recommend it.

We all loved it. I kept cracking up - and loud - as did the kids we were with. Lovely time. Tix in the winter months clock in @ $100 for two - I'd like to take the kids (as in nieces and nephews), but these days it's hard w. them in college and sports and social circles and all that. Again, we go on .

Went to a neighbourhood Chinese place after the show. Mindful that these kids are behavioural disorder kids, they finally started to slip. Angels before, the dysfunctions started showing. However, since the vibe was good, it was easy enough to cower the misbehaviour into extinction. As fun as the Blue Men were, the foodtime was also fun - great to see the kids in different contexts always.

Sidesteps

I was supposed to drive one of the kids home - but nicely asked the other teacher to do that for me. it was to be a Gallosunday, so i didn't want to go all south only to regresso and further north. So - now having an extra hour and spares to play w. - I decided to go to the Marshalls on Halsted and Clark. Spent tonnes of cash on sports gear and an incredibly kool hat (yes, if i was Paperplates I'd have a snap of it on my head all ready for you). Sports gear? Fire jerseys, Sox pullovers - and, finally, an Equipo America jersey. Nice haul.

More time left, so as planned I walked over to Smoky Treats to say hello. I did the secret buzz - since they live rite on Halsted and sometimes prey to the random stranger pushing them, I've done the "buzzzzzzz-buzz-buzz" quick three step. It was answered. yes, I could have used some mobile fone - but didn't have one then or now. It was good to see Treats, wife Lucilda, and babyTreat. Hadn't seen the child yet - and felt good on my ongoing effort to see people nd reconnect. They have entered the new era - three months into babytime - and I understand that they will never again see the inside of a tavern again w. the crew. So we adapt. funny the new furniture - babyproof stuff. Kid looked great. Had to go too soon.

Fry

Then spun up the Strasser to Evanston. it was Fry time, and I'd gotten the puddings black and white plus the bacon and sausages. The Patiences had the beans and tomatoes, and the Shipleys had smoke butt rolling. (yes, and eggs). Shipley also had baked up Irish soda breads - and yes, Mom loved what i brought back for her to try. The massive amounts of meat - wow. totally am I a carnivore, and it was special time for me. And, again, just getting out was good. The butt was basically done when i got there, and was delicious when served. I was going to fry the fry, but Shipley thankfully took that cup from me. I cut up the black and white, but basically hovered as she fried. Delicious.

And the kids. Funny. Always wanted kids - there were three here (Blurry, Proud, Strida). Delightful, the future of our country and planet. But these days I'm realising that maybe that sorta future is not for me. I can't take care of myself: how the hell could I take care of a helpless one? There is sadness that I won't be able to recreate on some scale my family growing up - there was always that deep desire - but .... we go on.

Since it was an Irish themed nite, talk 'rounded to Bobby Sands, the Hunger Strike, and finally the movie Hunger - about Bobby Sands and his death. Gorgeous show. Long takes w. nothing much said - and long takes where the speed of the talk , the accents, and the context made things hard to follow. Since I have much of the context in me it wasn't hard to take it all in - but for someone who has no clue .... Brilliant movie. The movie centered on the actual concrete happenings inside the prison where the IRA were - how they kept the struggle going, how they got messages out and in, the making of cigarettes from Bible pages, the beatings they endured - and , most interestingly, a Mass where all the prisoners -usually in solitary - got to mingle and plan. Powerful scene, w. the milling prisoners talking and talking and talking - all inaudible to the viewer except for the priest saying the mass.

So enjoyable - it started late so I figured i'd watch the second half next time I was up - but a quick look @ the watch showed me 25m left - I could stay to the end and still get home @ a decent hour - until the Youtube Diversion. Gallo put on CKLouis clip. Brilliant. Then another. And another. And ..... the Dubliners. And ... Eventually the movie got put back on, but I knew I was in for it the next morning. Brilliant? Just hadda stay and watch the end - I woulda left if it was not so compelling. Again, new vistas opened. Terrible ending - but, again, true to the movie's realism as we see Bobby Sands failing eyes and ears and, finally, his life gave out. true to his word, a soldier to the end.

Strasser the long leg back.

On the happenings of a certain Saturday ago/ Saturday the 12th

Things a normal person does not think are any big deal

Sometimes (tho' to most it aint no big deal) I can get various things done. Helps that my fone is out. No long distance calls to Matthew or other.

But up early in the morning -thanks you habitual habits of the workweek - and out to get heavy poundage for the Xmaskids of my family firstoff. When I have the pluck and time and mood to do so, I try to get the kids coinage and bills for birthday (and university goodbyes in August). Easier than actually getting trad presents, plus forcing my sense of difference on them. So, Stasser to my banque to fill up on $1 gold coins and $2 bills - all either golden or crisp (the crispness of papercuts if the angle is correct). Various calculations determine the amounts each of the eight get - Nephew.1 no longer gets his University subsidy, but since he is not only my godchild - but he is named after me - he gets extra. Partially, embarrassed to write, because in my penniless days he got shit. Amendment as well - he got even extra, because that real kool Sox pullover just was screaming to be (@ MArshals) bought for him. neice.1 and .2 get Xmas and the tardy University Subsidy. Nephew.2 gets only the Xmas - I was quite clear that any sold Fire Tickets profits goes back to me and not his pocket over the summer. The remaining five get only Xmas - Neice.3 will be joining the college ranks next year - WAIT!!

Then, from 106th and Cicero the ride down to famous 63d Street - the old neighbourhood, if a little west of it really - to Winstons. It's a ramshackle Irish goods food place. It's nice it's still there, tho' that part of 63d rite next to Midway is not so ramshackle as the store. My loved remark about the place is that it reminds me of a Soviet era store - bare shelves except for several cans and odd tins and MAYBE a box of crackers. But the shelves are not the point of this place - this place is a meat processing plant. No, no butchery, but it's here they fashion the black pudding and white pudding and sausages and bacon and all that great stuff for the customer to buy. Winstons has a fancy shamncy place in Orland - but it's all packaged here. And, since it was the Fry for Sunday Nite @ Gallos and Shipleys I was after - it was my perfect place today.

Got The Goods and then West on 63d to another hallowed place of youth - the Village Thrift store on 65th and Kedzie. Now this was the Old Neighbourhhod proper - these were the sidewalks and alleys always walked in glorious youth. No, it wasn't kool kloths to impress the trendy young things in university - instead it was the search for approproiate books to stock my schools library (plus any adult book I could scup up - what was that one I found's title - "Dirty Girl" or "Promiscuous Girl" or "Bad girl" or ....? - the title in none of these but whose essence contains all of these). Got massive loads of books - Strasser delivers me three for three - and then it wa South to home.

Early still, and it was time for walkies and bath for Bolo. It was nice out, so a long walk in reverse for us. Usually there is the walk up 112th West to Mt. Greenwood park, and then a clockwise circle and back home. This time I walked him up the alley N. of 111th to the park, then anticlockwise till 112th and home. And still I had energy swell. Bolo, after us forcibly kicking his steroids habit for him, needs baths to try to reduce his scratching - desperately for all of us. So, into the hated basement tub for a scrub a dub dub w. the medicated shampoo and the leave on conditioner. It works little, but since he went off the steriods we have to try anything to give him a bit of relief. Unf works little.

Finally - a walk of mother and I to 4pm mass @ Christinias. I knew this was my time to go since I had shit to do early and often to-morrow. Uninspiring, todays celebration.

All the Fame of Lofty Deeds.

Industry mixed w. Melancholy as the Nite! took over. I was burning time @ home w. Mom - amazing how II now really try to be the dutiful son and spend time a lot w. Mom (lazy ass fuck undeserving most of the time, but I'm trying...) because it kills me to think of her in the house by herself w. only Bolo, the newspapers, and the noon, 5pm, and 10pm news to keep her vcompany most of the time. So I try. But tonite had mighty melancholey memories to battle with. They were worth it.

Tonite was my last shot @ seeing "All ther Fame of Lofty Deeds", the latest play from the House Company. Melancholy for severals of reasons. One was the memories associated w. Gf. The House is now @ the Chopin Theatre in Wicker Park - one of our first dates way back when was to a play by some touring Polish company. This is where we sat/ This is where we swam/ hunted/ played. And the other was the company itself - although my absolute love of the House predates her existence by years, one of my favourite theatre memories ever was getting into one of their shows on the wait list late and facing the fact that we would not be able to sit to-gether for her first House show. However, a blessed person apraised the situation in a flash as we sat in our seperate seats of the sold out show, moved over one, and we were able to sit "to-gether" - a pole was in the way, but we were next to each other. i remember us excitingly holding hands quickly as the play started - not only did we get in as the last people on the list, but somehow - w. a strngers kindness - even got to sit to-gether.

And the other melancholey was me just burning time before the show - Since I had about an hour to kill, I first fed meself w. the local Wendy's, then walked North by Northwest on Milwaukee. Again, that feeling of swam/ hunted/ played/ walked spun thru' my head - Milwaukee yes, but where went the Macdonalds. Whats that massive pace where there used to be a lot? What goes on on this street where Jackson once lived? The Holiday? There were many grand times, battles fought and won and lost, new territories discovered and won and maybe even lost - on these streets. Lives - mine - were lived there. But now it's only Jackson and family who is there. And speaking of families, believe it or not, Wicker PArk now had tonnes of prams w. a single kid and mom and dad convoying about - could it be that mighty Wicker Park has now come to this?

A look @ the timepiece (present - guarded w. my life - from gf ... er, xgf) shows just enough time to skip to Myopic Books and back. Into the theatre, a switch of seats to a better view, an eye left and right to those whose leggs deserved another look, and the play started.

First half was slow. Niggling feeling that maybe this play was to be in toto a disappointment. That girls gorgeous legs. But then it all worked in the second half, and tears had to be wiped away - did anyone see me wiping?? Lofty Deeds was about a country and Western star who ended up a drunk pill popper. Famous w. his brother whose heydays were in the 1950-60's, he now was a wasting wreck fighting against the end. Death was coming for him, and he wasn't wanting it. I read the reviews after seeing it, and they made a big deal about commercialism and the loss of the artist's control. Yes, it was about that - but inevitably for me it was the loss of time and the need to fight fight against the dynig of the light before you are able to get it right. Yes, I know we all have to get it right, but I get it wrong so often again and again that it seems every piece of art is somehow about 'getting it rite'

Lofty, btw, was played by Nathan Allen - the big star of the House. He usually wrote, directed, and starred in many of the early shows of the House. Here was a play that wasnt written or directed by him - but he was the star. Another early memory of the House was their re staging of a play about Harry Houdini many years ago. I'd taken Jacob to it and he had no clue who Nathan was. During the play he ran out to piss, and coming back he happened upon this dude (Nathan, the writer and director) before sneaking back into the seating area. As is is wont, he talked to this to him unknown stranger and waxed greatly about the show. Then he asked the stranger "Do you know who wrote this?", to which Nathan replied "I did." Loved the story.

And I loved the play. Cant wait till the next one. Sated.

Lannigans.

HAd to have a last drink or two. Crowded, young females this geezer to gaze @, two Guiders to drink up, and a memoir of a Wellington bomber pilot in Italy to read.

My time wasn't wasted today, all halleaugh.

What happened on Friday Nite/ Friday the 11th

After another deeply shocking day of fights and arguments and flying chairs @ school, I hung @ home for a long bit before slipping the ways late and applying full sail due North for a double rock show. Waited w. mom as long as I could - gotta keep her good company these days. I'd had my choice of nites to go out this weekd to see frenz bands - Weightmen and Coyote camaro friday or Bully Pulpit on Saturday. I picked this nite to go out because I was hoping to take Neices.4 and .5 to the theatre in the morrow (eventually they bugged), I'd never seen C.C. and Weightmen only once (twice?) while I'd seen Bully Pulpit 15x or so. Hard choice, but easy.

Got there almost late - walked in, swarmy doorguy dealt w., and Rocky on the stairs watching as the Weightmen rocked out. Talked a bit, and wanted a drink so we went upstairs and got us both a half and half. Curtis and Homes were there as well, and even unexpectdly K.Doll (saw her, recognized that it MUST be her(i think), me too shy - but she came over and said hi. Silly frets.).

I'd seen the weightmen last summer when we shared the stage (well, rite?) @ the Klas show in July (last time I talked to gf .....r, xgf, i guess). This time Curry Favour had flown in from the country to bass it up (July was Homes??), and it was a good thing to see him. He had to fly out again in a matter of hours (all niter!). Glock on drums, and that one guy from the Rainbo who who drinks water and - oh, no, it's a Lagrange boy! They were good - I patted meself on the back when I recognized a song from the summer I dug - happy to hear it again. Enjoyed. They are not regulars to 'touring' - it was billed as their last show of 2009 - and it'd be kool to see them again.

Then firsttimeme for Coyote Camaro. I got another drink - this time I tried it the cheap way and got seperate drinx and poured them myself - Rocky, of course, took the remainder of the Guinessglass as he took the stage.

Decent crowd - seemingly many here for the Weights, so a sparesness started after they left the stage. But pretty. Especially the waitress. Eyes of mine, wandering, over her, again after again. Pleasant. A shirt that ended just so. Especially when she swayed to the music. Something about womans hips, or maybe just this womans hips. Or woman.

Reports from Crankface from Camaro shows past - only reportage I'd had - was positive on the band. Liked it. Word was out that this was to be Rockies last show w. Coyote Camaro. If it is to be, Im glad I caught it. Homes take was funny(and non verbatium): " ... sideshow .... waste ... time for his serious band....". Veddy funny. So differences.

I dug it. Historically originally there was just the drum and bass, then Roxx was added, then brand new (tonite?) was the keyboard player. I guess a replacement longterm for him. Reminded me a lot of the Laughing Hyeneas from the mid 80's: just w.out the herion, long beard and hair, and the blond. I liked the bass and drums, and set my wearing friday nite bones on a seat, and enjoyed. No, dont talk to me - let me watch. What did I see? Good - took some snaps. What did I hear ? Same. Rock gurgled and sang and dansed about a bit - interesting to see him on stage w. people I've never met. His was a role, but The Roles here were the drum and bass. I could see myself seeing a Rockyless Coyote Camero - I liked it a lot. Time will tell.

Passing comment on the importance of friday nites. Made it. As time goes on and air defences get better - and plans are made- it always gets easier.

yeah, yeah, yeah, i know, back to this shit,

from gallo

from the o'gallo, names edited by hilts:

""Very crazy and a little sad. I've been listening to his stuff a lot the last week or so (along with Luke Kelly). I sent you a youtube link to him doing the Patriot Game from the Carnegie Hall show -- it uses my favorite picture of him as a young guy in a apartment in the Village. My oldest brother recently told me that I was to be named Liam in his honor but at the last minute I was named for Vincent.""

maneuvers

Absolute hatred of dicey driving conditions ..... do enjoy 'full sail', but in these conditions its sucicide ..... are times even now when 60 hits in a 30, but thats when there aint nada in front'o'me and soome sorta anger in my mind. Strasser, still shaggled in the left front, is a reminder that one must be careful beyond all means. Rain, in a driving sense, blows - but the ise is the wost. Not just yrself, but constant checking in the review mirror to see if sliding stuff is coming up fast to smash. Deeply careful, am I, but still have managed to grit teeth once pumping the brakes before the safestop. Another shortcut in/not yet plowed side street meant a sliding sideways Strasser. Safe so far.

one thinks of gallo

the Whistling Gypsy

got from good shit

ze early englanders

got from good shit

he is dead

Liam Clancy

Der Brand

Enjoyed this book very much.

More than much. I finished it a while ago, but find myself unable to return it yet to the public library from where I got it. My mind still spins. And I want to read more. And am frustrated by the lack a availability of Freidreichs books in translation here.

Spent many years of life concentrating on the actual strategy and tactics of bombing from the strictly military point of view - from the actual tactics of fireraising, AA guns, marking, fighter planes tactics, ECM, radar directed fire, rocketry, blockbusters, etc etc etc. This is the first book, however, strictly from the civilian side Ive read. And now I want to read more. (Nation review)

It's written by Jorg Friedrich, a German who was born in 1944 - rite when the Allied airwar really started to burn German cities crazily. What started as a nearrun battle in the skies devolved into a beatdown in the last, say, 10m of the war. The book was called a 'catalog of disasters' of Germany by one reviewer, and that really should be the subtitle of this book. Since it's written from the German point of view, its heavily damning of the Allies- and the Nazis - for this "catalog" of disasters. In no way is this a full and complete 'catalog' of the entire airwar - but that writers skill gives us a great impression of the war. Reading it, that term 'impressionism' really seems pure in describing The Fire. Certain areas and certain times are represented - but not all. It is not an A to Zed guidebook by any means.

And it is structured like a catalog - and the catalog has logged in both sides deeds. The first few chapters deals w. the airwar as it was prosecuted area by area around Germany. Broadly it covers the Baltic, the Ruhr, the East, and the Rhineland in turn- but just looking @ the Rhineland parts allows one to get a good take on this book. The Rhineland is the Western part of Germany - and the book takes up the bombing war generally in late 1944 and 1945, or right when the American, British, and Canadian armies were battling on the ground near these cities. The writer makes sure we get the absurdity of the Allies having a full scale fire raid w. 500 planes to totally destroy a city -and to then have the Allies march in and take the city THREE FUCKING DAYS LATER. So, the Allies are the bad guys. But often the reason that these cities were destroyed - well, we think - was that the fanatical German resistance in these cities would have really bogged down the Allies and caused tremendous amounts of causalities. Better to totally destroy these places, so the Allied thinking went, then to allow the Germans to defend the place to the death. So, both sides wrong, the author writes. But other times the Allies would destroy a city behind the lines simply because it had a single train line running though a town or village- since there was the possibility of troops being moved up using these rail lines, this small town or that had to deal w. a 500 plane pasting.

But the author also writes that the English, by the end of the war, were just bombing to destroy everything and .... well, everything- that they could before the war ended. It took a long time for the RAF to get the whole fire raising thing down pat. When the war started, the RAF tried to bomb Germany in daylight - disaster. The theory that bombers could get through and bomb effectively in daylite turned out to be a terrible idea. Then they switched to night bombing. However, the English air force (the RAF) were not getting anywhere near their targets locations in these first months of the war - let alone hitting them when close. SO, they switched tactics again. They decided not to try to hit individual targets because this was too difficult from 3-4 miles up in the air and @ nite. Rather the the RAF tried to just burn down the German cities. Because it was so difficult to hit anything, the theory became to just hit the much larger (than a factory) city - especially so that the German workers would be killed and bigtime enough dislocated so that the industry (which was their original target) is also affected.

What the RAF eventually hit upon was a system which they eventually perfected where individual planes (Pathfinders) w. very experienced captains would fist get to the target, find the correct place where the planners had planned for ground zero, and drop special coloured markers and incendiaries to 'mark' the target. With the target area burning enough to be easily spotted by the following bombers, the 'blockbusters' bomb (gigantic bombs from 4000 to 24,000lbs) armed planes - which was to hit in the target area and send shock waves through the target areas - which broke windows and shattered rooftops. They did this in order to make the target area more susceptible to the thousands of smallish incendiary bombs that followed. These small bombs generlly just fizzed out flammable material which fell into the broken roofs and started fires in attics. The broken windows created a chimmeny effect that stoked the fies. And then game the GP (generel purpose) bombs, many w. timers on them set to explode hours after. This would discourage both firefighters from entering the bombed out areas to try to contain the fires- and keep people inside the bomb cellars for the same reason.

Justa part of the deep harshness of this sorta fire raising warfare was that the best way to burn down German cities was to make 'ground zero' in the place where it was easiets to raise th fires - in the cities "Old Towns". These were the ancient city centers, some going back to the 4th century. the Old Towns were cramped crowded places w. narrow winding lanes w. buildings built w. wood - a raging fire waiting to happen, especially w. these RAF tactics. Once one building caught fire, cramped-location buildings rite next to each other caught fire one after another. With the firefighters so interfered by the GP bombs and the time delay bombs it was hard to contain the fires. Newer cities like Berlin (or, say, Chicago) were not quite built w. old towns - but many of the ancient German cities were. The ultimate aim was to create a "Firestrom" - if the fires from all the little bombs were let go long enough, they merged into a shockinhly distructive massive firestorm. These horrific agents of destruction were horrible - everything burned, all the oxygen was sucked away from area, massive winds so strong they sucked up people into the fire area, and the temperatures were raised up to 3000 degrees. The book was deeply compelling - but the cataloug of disasters would often get so sad and depressing that I had to put it down - despite the deep reading experience it provided.

Part of the depression was in the physical parts of these cities destroyed. here the authors skill as a writer come in. He'll describe an attack - and then write about the history of the places destroyed. for example, as a grand cathedral starts to burn and fall apart, he'll ...... well, catalog the parts of the structure as it crumbles. This part built in the 9th century by this famous architect falls down in the first par of the raid, then thhis other part built by this other famous architect in the 14th C. then falls. the fire then spreads to the famous wing of the building built by this famous German prince in the 18th C. Lost, and horribly. I so love those little city centers all over Europe - its a shame so much was lost in such a little bit of time. So much lost.

But the real depressing part is the experince of the people undergoing these air raids. here the author makes no bones about his feelings on the Firebombers by the language he uses. He never writes that its a 'holocaust' - but many words and images he uses brings it to mind. For example, when the bombs started to fall, people took to their cellars and shelters- and eventually the Germans built massive bomb bunkers. These generally protected people from the bombs themselves - but not from the aftereffects. As mentioned above, the heat in an area where a firestom is raised could raise temps up tp 3000 degrees or so. The people in the cellars were protected by the bombs by th trong bricks/stones that the cellars were made from. but since the fire raged outside in the streets and the people were trapped inside, these cellars acted like OVENS and turned these people into ashes - even tho' the fire mite never reach them. The heat also started coal stored in basements and cellars to start to smolder - and release killer gasses that GASSED those people trapped by the fires. There is a chapter on the treasures and papers lost in the fire raids - he makes much of the amounts of BOOKS BURNED and lost to Germany. finally, there are pictures and descriptions of PILES OF CORPSES being burned after the raids to get rid of them. there is a lot of controversy over this - many feel he should not have tried to equate thesuffering of german citizens in lite of the nazi crimes - but shit, man, .......... war is such a fucking mess.

All of this doesn't excuse the Nazis - the author doesn't go that way. But the tenor of the book does make the claim that maybe the German citizens really just didn't deserve what happened to them and their cities. Again, controversy since no one wants to deny the Nazis deeds.

This excellent book - as all excellent books do - open many new vistas to me. The airwar used to be viewed from 4 miles up in the air for me. But a whole new world now exists - the ground view. Before my p.o.v. was all military - but now the fascination lies in the citizens. Martin Middlebrookes excellent series of books on the air war touched on the citizens ordeal in various battles (Hamburg, Berlin, Schwienfurt-regensburg, Nuremberg, and Peenumende), so i was aware of what when on the ground. But this book is almost exclusively on the ground. So many things new to me. The whole world of shelters, for example. I knew people sheltered from the bombs in their cellars, that they were connected to each other so people could escape if the building above them fell down, etc... But bomb shelters and bunkers were all new. Shelters generally were long corridor type deals w. people generally facing each other across an aisle - think NYC subway cars, except narrower. They generally held up pretty well, but they did collapse from time to time if there was a direct hit. Sometimes they held up only because many men had to hold up the sidewall fullon w. their shoulders. Shit! And then there was the bouncing and buckling of the shelters by massive near hits - like a car going over a big bump, I guess. Bunkers were larger still, and held many more people than a shelter. They were just about impossible to destroy - but @ least one was cracked and destroyed by a direct hit. The description of the people inside, impossible to get out, receiving comfort and last rites from priests, was just horrible.

I wrote of some of the dangers above that I have learned anew. The gassing of people in shelters from the dangerous mix in the air. The heat that incinerated people - a story of a husband in the suburbs during the raid finally being able to get back to his building in the damage zone, and discovering a pile of ashes where his wife had regularly sat during raids. Stories of people being trapped w. no way out, but then running through a burning area to get to another shelter and thence to safety. And the 'water corridor' - fireman, if they had pressure and the water available, would send up massive streams of water in burning areas which would allow trapped people to sometimes escape. Or, sometimes, people trapped outside a bunker unable to get in because it was full and the doors locked- and then bombs hitting rite there. the example that sticks in my mind is of an older woman and a boy, purple in the face and dead, still standing upright, w. her arm around the boy. And, finally, people trapped in the rubble of a collapsed building, w. firmen trying to stop the fire from burning to death people trapped inside the pile- and the screams of the people trapped further down as the water rises and drowns them.

As stated above, I also didnt know that much of the damage from the bombing was concentrated in the last 10m of the war; I always figured it was from the bombing starting in 1942 thru' '45. But once the RAF got started and got the Germans down, they just went from one city to another destroying them. When they were destroyed, then they started on the smaller towns. And on. There came a certain point where the cities were just about undefended because of the prponderance of allied air power over the Luftwaffe.

And the final question: did the bombings have a positive effect on war effort for the Allies? I remember a holiday party @ Gunners and Kats - it was Dec. 2002, I am sure - and I was talking to Ragdoll, a German language prof then @ UIC. I was then working though Middlebrooks ouvre, and wanted a Germans POV. When i asked first, she said, slowly, that maybe it was a military thing and did much to defeat the Nazis. But then, during the convesation, other views came out - basically, the views of this book. In my mind, despite the deep inhumanity of what went on, I just cant get it out of my had that the enormous effort to keep the cities safe DID play a role in th downfall of Nazi Germany. The massive amount of concrete used in bunkers, the continual rworking of the railways, the amount of fighters and flak in the cities and not on the battlelines. But fuck .............................................. I really no longer know what to say.

My next book, immediately picked up, was on the firebombing of Japan. More on that later.