History Repeats Itself-Again.

 On War And The People

"Naturally the common people don't want war: Neither in Russia, nor in England, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But, after all, It is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. it works the same in any country."

-Hermann Goering

A Short Modern fairy Tale.

The Royal court looked down their nose at the miscreant brought before them.


"She is a young poor black woman trying to improve her kids life. M'lord." pleaded her counsel. It was to no avail.

"How dare she, off with her head!" The Queen shouted indignantly. Her advisor whispered in her ear. "What do mean We can't do that anymore? Oh very well then- send her to prison and orphan her kid that will show these peasants to keep in their place."

So the poor mother spent her days chained to a wall and her son was put to work in the poorhouse.

The end.

How to Bring in the New Year

Quietly, spend a slow afternoon in apartment land, otherwise known as San Mateo doing as little as possible to recover from all the previous exertion. I finish the night the way I intended last night- bathing al fresco with a glass of champagne. I look up at the moon and the constellation of Orion and meditate on life, memories of my lost friend and the kindness of my hosts.

My traveling companion Chester gets a perch on my writer’s cap after complaining that he couldn’t see anything as I kept him in my coat pocket with my camera.  He is much happier with the new view.

Monday morning, my last day began with a plea to let me stay but real life beckons. I make breakfast of home fries and scrambled eggs for the gang. An old high school friend shows up as well. Instead of ferrying to Tiburon we decide to attend the “West Side Story” sing a long at the Castro theater. This grand old theater is a reminder of what a movie theater should look like, art deco decor, plush curtains, even an organ. 

The crowd is festive and in the mood for silliness, including me. Having hosted bad movie nights at my home and watched countless episodes of “Mystery Science Theatre” I’m ready with a retort. There are plenty of opportunities. In the balcony scene between Tony and Maria, she asks him to visit her at the dress shop where she works. The audience erupts when Maria commits the best unintentional double entendre with “Tony when you come, use the back door.” This is Castro street after all. At intermission I turn on the gang in mock despair.

“This isn’t going to end well is it? I thought this was a comedy but there’s like drama and singing and shit. This doesn’t end well does it?” Then there is the scene where the detective ( played by the great Simon Oakland) questions Maria who sends Anita off  with a coded message for Tony. 

“They could just speak Spanish.” I remark logically, which gets a big laugh from the row behind me.

We all know how the story ends but irrationally hope that this time they will happily ever after. There is not a dry eye  in the theater when Maria leans down to kiss Tony one last time “Te adoro Anton.”

We trudge up the steep incline of 17th street and the Saturn stairs once more in time to see a spectacular sunset as an exclamation point to a perfect afternoon. I pack my bag reluctantly and after a rushed Skypeing with my brother we go off to  “Mochino”  a fancy Peruvian restaurant. It’s so dark I have to use my tiny flashlight to read the menu. It’s mostly in Spanish but I find something I more or less recognize. I really can’t see my dish when it comes but it’s all very good. Now I should point out I’m not an adventurous eater normally and I’m a total spice wimp but I bravely eat what’s put in front of me and it ranks as one of the top eating experiences I’ve had . Ahi never tasted so fine. 

We end up rushing to the Ferry Building just in time for me to catch the bus to the train station in Emeryville. Hugs to my dear friends and I ‘m off  to the night train north.

We interrupt this vacation for a sobering reminder.

Ok I admit it, as much as I complain and roll my eyes at people for checking  the internet constantly- I did check in on facebook while I was on vacation. The new year started on a somber note. 

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I heard KC drowned.” a friend informed me.

Oh My God. 

We try to prepare ourselves for disaster. I had been thinking about earthquakes before coming to SF -trust me they get them. But life has a way of blind siding you with the unexpected. 

KC, whom I’ve known for years, drowned while trying to rescue his dog from the dangerous ocean surf. Grief, shock, sadness and - what the fuck was he doing? swept over me.

I had spoken to him only a month before while working on a play and needed some advice about guns- he had been  in the navy years ago. We had a pleasant chat and I had intended to get together with him and another friend but put it off until after my trip. The sudden loss reminded me that we should not take the presence of our friends and family so lightly. I vowed to keep in touch with the people I love and learn from them because I don’t want to regret the unasked question when they are gone.

My younger sister died ten years ago and I still wish I could talk to her about this or that but the chance is gone. We are indeed brief candles and the heaviness of morality latest blow has not left me the last two weeks.  I suggest you cherish the ones you love, it’s such a cliché but it’s also true.

Pouring Sunshine, Drifting Through Crowds.

I awoke Saturday morning to warm sunshine. I sit outside in sweats and a t-shirt. Only the sight of christmas decorations remind me it’s the holiday time of year. Feeling chipper me and my hosts decide to go for a walk - or rather a hike to the Randall Museum . I used to go to this place when I lived here. It’s where I learned the ancient art of setting movable type in a shop there. Me and a friend also helped feed the animals in the mini zoo they have. 

Looming over the museum is Bernal Heights, otherwise know as Rocky Mountain. It’s a bare outcropping made unattractive by a cyclone fence placed along the edge so people won’t fall off. I say lose the fence and let nature take it’s course. We wisely stay at ground level and enjoy the view of the city skyline marred by yet more ugly architecture in the form of a tall apartment buidling downtown that looks like an air filter. ( Note building in the center of photo).

When we return to base , Operation Rainbow Grocery Shopping is launched. Five people pile into a Honda Fit- the official car of SF -and we head off.  San Francisco has a population of  800,000 and I’m pretty sure most of them were at the store. It was an absolute madhouse. Note to self: don’t shop in SF before New Year’s Day without sedatives. 

We planned to stay in and celebrate the new year but decide to eat out with the arrival of another couple. We walked down to Castro Street and dine at the Sausage factory (insert your own joke here) an excellent Italian restuarant. While the two adult couples chat completely enraptured with each other E  and I sit in silence. I recognize the awkwardness in her expression from my own years of feeling excluded from company. As we walked back we passed by mobs of people out for a evening of  gala partying. Handsome men decked out in tuxes and a few in dresses stood in line outside a club or strolled around. Yep, gay people really know how to party. 

The hike up the Saturn stairs exhausts me but I’m proud of the achievement. I’ve exercised more in one week than I have in months. It inspires me to keep it up once I get home. I greet the new year sitting on the balcony looking out over the city hearing the whoops and hollers at the stroke of midnight. It’s an odd and unexpected way to bring in the new year. I was grateful for the privacy of the darkness, alone with my thoughts.