What am I worth?

I have changed my tactics to writing, blogging, and book selling, in large part because I am not where I want to be. Obviously, if you're not where you want to be, you need to do something differently. As part of that, I've been reading a lot. I've joined a thousand and one groups, forums, mailing lists - you name it. I've reached out to who knows how many different blogs, writers, publicity gurus etc.

About 75% of the time these people write back, in some way. Usually it is a helpful way.

In one particular instance, it was a situation where the person was making the age old case that you have to spend money to make money.

Now between the two of us, my husband and I have a little under $40k of student debt. My husband works in an industry that does not support its employees, in fact, they kind of shit all over them and then stomp on them, no matter how well trained they are. Of course, he makes too much money for us to qualify for government assistance. Our parents happen to live in one of the most expensive housing markets in the country, which means we have to live with them in order to have a place to stay and food to eat. My son has health care because of the ACA. Because of where we live, we have to commute to jobs, and because of a lack of childcare, it doesn't really make sense for me to work at this point.

This is the stress I carry on my shoulders every day.

I have tried a thousand and one tactics already to get my books into readers hands, and here is this person saying the only way I can be successful is by spending money. Money. Something I don't have right now - haven't had for a few years.

I wrote the guy and he actually wrote back, and said nothing I didn't already know. I was grateful he actually responded, but the response did something to me that was unexpected. He wasn't mean, in fact, he was very professional. But it was the fact that he told me things I already knew - things I felt like I couldn't do anything about.

I broke. I just broke. Here was this guy who was supposed to be a guru and he was telling me things I already knew. I felt so defeated.

Here I was, putting every last bit of soul and effort into this - and I still wasn't financially successful. I wasn't getting reviews. I wasn't getting people to buy my books. Granted, people love the books when they read them. Any time I talk to people about them they end up buying a copy. And loving it. Seriously. But I wasn't connecting to enough readers. People weren't coming across my books and buying them. I had a steady trickle of purchases, but nothing to write home about.

I felt like a failure. I was ready to jump off a bridge. The thought actually entered my mind. I cried the rest of the day.

Slowly reason seeped into my consciousness.

The voice (in this case my father's) said: You might not be able to buy another domain, but you could change the landing page to allow for multiple brands.
Me: Okay, I can do that. Next week on update day I can do that.
The voice: Stop 'asking' for reviews. Call in all your chips. Tell anyone and everyone who you know has read your books - I need reviews.
Me: Okay. I can do that. I'll do that.

I started doing that. I felt a little better.

The voice came back (in this case my husband's): You already knew the things this guy told you. Keep working at this. Keep tweaking things. Write a blog post about this. You have more.

I did. I felt even better.

The voice came back a third time (in this case the one in my head): There are more things I haven't done. Try them. See this through. I have a purpose. I am enough.

So here I am. I have a purpose to my writing. I want to educate empathy - specifically compassion. I want everyone to know what is possible in books, with characters, with life. I want to be a catalyst for social change. I want to leave a legacy for my son. This is my purpose.

When there is a purpose, things happen. I believe that. I have everything I need to realize my purpose. I believe I will encounter those driven to work with me. There are no accidents. No coincidences. There is will, and therefore way.

I am sharing all this because I know I'm not alone. My situation is one that has played out many times before over the centuries. I know every modern author isn't in quite as dire of straits as I am. A lot of writers have day jobs, or spouses who essentially sponsor them. I know a lot of people do not need their writing to work for them. And it is nice to have that. There is comfort in that.

I am not comfortable which is why I need you to understand exactly what is at stake for me - for people like me. I need you to know me. To understand my drive. To understand why I struggle every day to do and be more.

When you read my books, understand that through everything, I am baring myself. I am giving you a piece of me to carry with you. When you read my books, you are participating in my life through the lives of my characters. That is the gift I am giving you.

Now tell me, what is it worth?

The Nile - Adventures in Bako

I found out yesterday that the guy who hit my car didn't have insurance. It took his supposed insurance company a month to figure this out and let me know. Yeah. I was pissed and hyped up on adrenaline.

So, like the healthy people we are, we decided to self-medicate. First we tried to find a little quiet bar, but, well, let's just say that didn't work out. We still wanted to go somewhere. I wanted a beer really badly. We had heard the Nile was a cool location, so we decided to check it out.

We parked a block away and walked over. Outside the place was a group of people, most of them in black, smoking and talking loudly. At the door was a large bouncer who didn't check our IDs (I guess we're past that point now...) or ask for a cover. I think there was a cover at some point based on some things said later in the evening, but we didn't have to pay. When we walked in, there was dubstep blasting over the speakers and the decor was kind of retro cool. I immediately liked the place. Then I noticed there was a band setting up on stage. We decided to stay anyway because we remembered to bring earplugs to save our ears.

We waited forever at the bar to get drinks. While we waited, some guy gave us a band's handmade demo. Literally, the paper in the CD case had been printed at home and cut by scissors while the CD itself was labelled with permanent marker. I was mildly excited because the disc said Ruby Skye on it - which made me think of the club in San Fransisco. So far, so good.

Finally the bartender came over and gave us our drinks. I don't order bottle beer at bars on principle and the Nile doesn't have taps, so we both got mixed drinks. While they were very alcoholic, they weren't very good (very few people can get a Long Island right, so it's a good test drink). The band began to play, and it reminded me of art school and high school mixed together. They sounded like they wanted to be somewhere between Tool and Shiny Toy Guns. Unfortunately, they were just weird. After only a few songs they thanked the crowd and said another band would be coming up. Huh?

I think there was a battle of the bands. I'm not exactly sure. It could have been a charity concert. The MC didn't clarify anything when she spoke between sets. There also appeared to be a raffle, but I don't know where you bought tickets for this or why this was a part of the evening. Well, this second band was pretty good. They had an electric cello/trombone player that made their band. It helped that their bassist had an amazing mustache too. Well, that just upped their entertainment value anyway. Then a third band came on which we weren't all that into, but they weren't horrible.

At this point, Christian decided to go get us some more drinks. He was gone for maybe a minute when this random guy sat down at our table and introduced himself. He was asking me questions, clearly trying to hit on me. I couldn't help but smile because it was a lost cause. Then when Christian came up, he left almost immediately. Poor guy. Christian was more amused because it turned out while he was standing at the bar, there was a girl who stood uncomfortably close to him. It was clear she was trying to get him to hit on her because she stood about six inches away while the entire bar was completely free of people.

Another band came on which was a bad mod group with a strange art school video going on in the background. At this point, we decided we were done.

Needless to say, I would give the Nile a second chance because the night was clearly unusual for them.  They have cool decor, a dance floor, and a stage. The place has room to be totally awesome. I just hope the bar situation is better when we go back.

Basque Food - A Bad Idea - Adventures in Bako

Okay people. I don't know whose bright idea it was to conspire against unsuspecting newbies, but it's not cool. I am here to attest to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Bakersfield Basque food sucks.

If you want overcooked vegetables, cold spaghetti, unsalted over fried french-fries, rubbery shrimp, and chilled cheap wine, then by all means, go eat Basque. I personally don't want to pay $20 a plate for parmesan cheese from a Kraft cheese container on my pasta.Even the flan was rubbery and flavorless. This, my friends, is impressive. The level of fail was so complete, it was unbelievable. I would NEVER EVER take a friend to a Basque restaurant. And this, is not even discussing the amazing and infamous pickled cow tongue. Yeah. Try and imagine if freshwater eel, vinegar, and rotting beef were put together. That is the texture and flavor. So if you're into that, sure - eat it. But for my part, I'll stick to steakhouses.

I am warning you so you don't make the same mistake I did. Don't believe the people who say this thing is so delicious. It's just not true. You'd get higher quality and better prepared food at a steakhouse. Honestly.

And guys, we went to the BEST Basque restaurant, supposedly, in Bakersfield. We went to Wool Growers.  This is the place Barbara goes to when she comes to town. In fact, she comes to Bako specifically for this restaurant. I guess when you have millions of dollars, paying $20 for bizarre less than diner quality fare doesn't bug you. For me, I'd rather go elsewhere.

So, for the love of GOD, don't do it. Just don't. It's not worth it. Unless you have Monopoly money.

Adventures in Bako - The Padre Hotel

Last night I finally got the chance to go out on the town in Bakersfield. Having been urged several times by multiple people to check out the Padre, we decided to give it a go.

There are a few things that a person needs to know upon entering the Padre.

1. It's an old hotel that has been renovated.
2. It's the kind of place that you go to see and be seen.
3. You won't believe you're in Bakersfield.

That's just for starters. We only made it into the downstairs bar and dance club which was enough to give us a general idea of the place. It struck me the number of blond heads present - and the overall height of the clientele. People who go to the Padre are tall - about a head taller than me, and I'm not short. I felt like I had stepped through a portal into Santa Barbara or some other place where tall blond-haired people frequent.

In addition to this, the clientele ran the full range of ages. There were people who looked like they had recently turned 21 (well, at least their IDs said so - though I couldn't believe it judging by their faces) and then there were people who had WHITE hair (looking for a sugar baby?).

The strangeness of the demographics for the location aside, the place was hoppin' and it was cool. I particularly liked the gray paisley seats and the techno music at the bar. The dance club had an unfortunate cover of $10 which made it out of the range of most people these days (think: anyone without steady income or a steal of an apartment rental) especially if you wanted to get drinks TOO. That said, when we did go inside, they had cool laser light shows going and were playing an interesting mix of top 40 from the past and present. Besides the incredibly packed nature of the room, it was perfect for dancing.

This would make it fine for a second visit, except of course, there is the bathroom. I have to mention this because it might be the only trans-gender friendly  bathroom in Bako (I don't know this for certain, but it's worth mentioning). The bathroom has separate stall areas for men and women, but the sink area is unisex. So, don't be surprised ladies if you walk in and see 5 guys at the sink checking their hair - seriously. That happened to me last night.

I will say this - the Padre is not a hipster bar. It is not the kind of place you go if you want a super stiff drink and to look at art (at least not the first floor - but I fully intend to check out the roof next visit). It is however full of great people watching and reasonably fun ambiance/dancing. Plus, the bathroom is weird enough in concept that you need to check it out, if only for the "oh shit" factor. I liked the decor, and I enjoyed myself. I will definitely check it out again. And, if you're in Bako and you have an L.A. sensibility, it is *definitely* the place to be. And that is whether you wear white leather shoes, plaid shirts, shorts, or not. Everyone is there.

When Your Mind Runs Wild and Your Body Collapses

Status report:

1. I've taken a full time job. Okay, that's good right? Sure - I was poor (frankly still not rolling in it, but the finances are doing better).
2. I sold my house. Well, I'm in the process of it, but everything seems to be going along smoothly. So that's good, again, helping with the finances.
3. P90x has fallen by the wayside because I don't have enough time in the morning before work and after work to do basic things in the house, write, and workout. This is a problem. I already feel a difference in how I am, except if I try to workout before work, I feel more exhausted... sooo trying to figure out a way to mitigate this. Suggestions are welcome.
4.  Working on my sci-fi project, Legion, which is both fun and frustrating. Fun because it is something new and different, frustrating because I'm trying to figure out how I want to turn scenes into chapters that make sense and aren't wildly different lengths. This may end up being more of a second run through kind of thing.
5. Lovers and Rivals is in reading phase, though after having a review of The Brothers, and lots of free time at work, I've thought of a few changes I want to make in the Book 2 manuscript.
6. I have officially come up with a prequel plan for the Khloe Alwell trilogy. It is awesome, dark, and more sophisticated than I originally thought it would be. I'm excited about it in a way that might make me write it before I write the conclusion book to Khloe.

 So, that's kind of where I'm coming from at the moment. The result is I am physically exhausted while my mind is going a million miles a minute. That said, I'm hopeful. There are promising things in the wings and with that, comes optimism that had been sorely lacking.

Also, it helps that cool people are giving me love on Twitter. I love my Tweeps. It helps keep me going. By their power combined, I am sure I will succeed through this exhausting time. *sleepily sits up with wide smile*

Zingo's Cafe - A Bako Diner

Our new friend at People's Pizza suggested Zingo's as a place for late night diner fare. Seeing as we needed lunch after moving a trailer full of furniture, it seemed daylight was as good a time as any to check out the place.

Zingo's is about a block away from Christian's new work on Buck Owens Boulevard. That should give you an idea of what to expect right away.  It is all old-school classic car loving trucker serving diner. Inside the black, red, and white decor takes you back to another time. Seating yourself in black vinyl 50s style booths, a waitress with a Southern twang brings you water and asks what you'd like to drink. The menu is simple, greasy, and classic.  While you might want to steer clear of any vegetables on the menu, their fried and grilled items are perfect after a night of partying or a morning of moving couches. The service is prompt and sweet like you'd expect from a diner in a place like Bakersfield.

All in all, it's worth checking out, especially if you enjoy the classic Americana of a good old-fashioned greasy spoon.

People's Pizza - Bako Surprises & Adventures

Bakersfield is the last place in the world I expected to get anything remotely like good pizza. But of course, it has, yet again, surprised me. Don't get me wrong, it's hard to compare to New York style when you're outside the Northeast, BUT, this was pretty good in its own right.

The only reason we went to People's Pizza is because our property manager's significant other owns the place.  We never would have heard of it because it isn't listed on Google and we're new in town. Still, we like to support locally owned and operated businesses, and if we're getting crappy pizza, its better to get it from the guy who lives down the street as opposed to Domino's or Pizza Hut. Well, for whatever reason, our Google Foo was off even with the address, and we ended up going to Lamont before heading to the restaurant.

For those of you who have never visited Bakersfield, it is a farming community and therefore has everything that goes with it, most importantly, workers.  Lamont is the predominantly Mexican community southeast of Bako that makes you feel like you're in Mexico (or in my case, India), with the exception of the occasional pimped out Lincoln Navigator (what?!). In any case, it has a road called the "Weedpatch Highway." This is how urban we're talking people. Urban. Needless to say, eventually we discovered we had gone probably 20 miles out of our way, but we did finally determine that no, there is in fact no People's Pizza listed on Google, nor does AT&T rock at Google Foo (T-Mobile forever!).

Well, we finally found People's Pizza. The owner, Nate, comes out, chats with us, and gets us set up with a California style pizza (East Coast peeps, wait for it!). California style has more dough, less grease, and more sauce.  The edge is flat as opposed to the large round bubbly crust of the New York style. Well, People's didn't disappoint.  Their sauce, made with fresh ingredients was delicious, with heavy notes of garlic, oregano, and Parmesan.  I was reminded of my mother's homemade sauce and meatballs. As my chef friend says, when food reminds you of home cooking, it is successful.

Now, Christian and our chef friend Andy scarfed the Cali style down.  So the owner, Nate, knowing I'm from New York and Andy is a chef, decides to make us a New York style.  He admits he doesn't have the space currently to hand toss but would love to do so (that's what makes New York edges bubble so beautifully).  Despite the lack of bubbling crust, People's is able to make a thin crust in the center of their pie that you have to eat with two hands.  They allowed a larger amount of grease (correct for New York style). I would have used a simpler sauce for the New York style than the Californian, but it was still delicious.

So did I find New York pizza in Bakersfield? No. Would I go back to People's even though it's 11 miles away in a town where I could find plenty of restaurants closer? Absolutely. With amazing ingredients, a neighborhood atmosphere, and great service, this place is worth the trek to get there.  I'll take my dad there, and my dad is a pizza snob, so you know it's good.

The Roadkill Cafe - You Kill It, They Grill It

Being in rural Pennsylvania is like being in a foreign country and all that entails. This is especially true when going to restaurants like the Roadkill Cafe.

The Roadkill Cafe is in an isolated village on a road by the name of Crooked Run Road. It looks kind of like a seedy country bar and gas station from the outside. Inside is a country store and a simple restaurant that boasts hunting gear on every wall. You got a free knife with every gun purchase!

The other customers had facial hair, gray shirts, jeans, and hunting hats. My grandmother, mother, and I were the only women customers in the place. We got some stares.

The service was friendly and prompt, the food cheap and reasonable - if predominantly fried. Think $2.50 for a sandwich - a comparable sandwich in Santa Barbara would go for at least $8.

Would I go back? Maybe to take someone for the experience, because frankly it is difficult to find for the type of food that is available. Is it worth going to if I was around for hunting season? Absolutely. They even have cabins - but this year is already booked, so you'll have to wait until next year!

Still, it's fun. Their shirts and aprons with pretend menu items are worth the trip, just to scare your friends, with "chunk of skunk" and "smear of deer." You get the picture - you kill it, they grill it!

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Fun at Oakland Art Murmur

One of the many hipster bars in O-town packed for the night

Well, we finally tried First Fridays a second time on the first truly warm Friday of 2011. My friend was going, and I figured a warm day would be a great time to give it a second chance. It was night and day compared to  our initial attempt. 

When we finally found a parking spot several blocks from Telegraph and W. Grand, we were relieved.  Everything was completely parked.  Walking to where my friends were basking in the artistic ambiance, we passed groups of dirty hippies, hipsters, rockabilly hair, and all manner of things.  The people became denser and denser until I felt like I was back in India, we could barely move. 

Outside of Mama Buzz, I found my group of friends and we checked out a few sauna like galleries.  Really the heat was too much when coupled with the press of bodies.  The art wasn't as interesting as I was hoping for - everything was subjects or styles I didn't particularly find interesting, with the exception of a few complex fractal plays in shiny ink.  Deciding galleries were too stuffy, we wound our way through the crowd to check out the vendors.  There were clearly people on acid painting, stinky weed wafted through the air, and the pungent stench of fish tacos seemed to follow us everywhere.  Punk patches, fairy naturalist jewelry, and pop art magnets were available, among other random things.   Finished perusing, we decided to check out one of the bars nearby, the Stork Club, where they had cheap drink specials, live music, and burlesque show.  I was channeling Betty Page with my hair, lipstick, and black 50s cut dress - which only made sense when surrounded by pompadours and middies.  After a few drinks and the press of bodies got to us, we decided to high-tail it to another bar where a friend of a friend was spinning soul, funk, and RnB. 

At Bar 355, a new friend and I took over the dance floor with our similar cut dresses and hair which made us look like we were meant to be on the stage/floor.  The bartenders were super attentive despite the crowd, and the music was fun.  Drinks were stiff, and you really only could handle one with the heat and humidity.  Pretty soon the place was packed, but by that time, it was late enough that we were ready for bed.  All in all, a wild night with lots of music, art, and general fun.  First Friday is definitely worth checking out, particularly on a warm night.  O-town was hopping and absolutely worth the spectacle for free art shows and entertaining people-watching.

Beach in the Bay - Exploring Alameda

Did you know Alameda has a beach? Beach means there is sand and water, not just water.  Anywhere can have water.  Not everywhere has sand.  And this sand, more importantly, looks like it's the naturally created kind - not imported - by the work of the bay.

Friday was the perfect day to visit this little island city.  Not only was the sand and salty air absolutely glorious, but Alameda itself isn't half bad.  It has early 20th century architecture including the awesome Victorian paint jobs, as well as a smattering of stained glass panels every so few houses.  Add a determined group of locally owned shops representing all manner of products and services, and you have quite an interesting community.  I recommend taking a stroll down Park, the main drag, to get a little taste of what is available.

We decided to check out La Penca Azul, a Mexican restaurant within easy walking distance from our car that had gotten very good reviews. We were very glad we did!  We were lucky enough to be there during happy hour, which meant their huge appetizers were half off.  So a bill that normally would have been close to $40 was less than $20 including tip.  And honestly, we could have had a whole other meal with our leftovers, there was so much food.

Though we didn't drink, the place is renowned for their selection of tequilas which are proudly displayed along the wall of the restaurant.  I was happy with our gigundo appetizers, soda, and the excellent service we were provided from all the staff that came by our table.  The only downside was the awkward conversation taking place behind us at high volume - which wouldn't keep me from going back between 4 and 6 pm.

All in all, Alameda is worth an afternoon of wandering, food, and fun.  There are many other interesting shops and restaurants there that I would love to try out (but there just isn't enough time!).  Who knew? Sand, water, and an awesome island community right in our own backyard.

Stunt Riding - A Show Worth Seeing

Alex Flores doing a burnout.

East Bay Motorsports, Christian's work, and the California Highway Patrol sponsored a free "safety event" at the Oakland Coliseum parking lot.  Just like the true meaning for "safety corridor" this was just as fun.

Yes folks, we got to see stunt riders!  Alex Flores and Jason Pullen were there doing all manner of things, from balancing stunts, stoppies, wheelies, and jumps, to riding a modified dirt-bike that could roll upside down.  I honestly wasn't expecting that much.  I had seen stunting only once before at MotoGP when I saw a race at Laguna Seca.  Christian has made me watch stunting videos occassionaly on TV, but I hadn't seen stunting up close and personal the way I watched it today.  Seeing the burnouts up close, smelling the burning rubber, and watching the facial expressions of the stunt riders adds a whole new dimension to stunting. 

Jason Pullen doing a wheelie.

Of course these guys are hams - they grin and wiggle their eyebrows with the best of them.  Of course they feed off of each other.  Of course they are flirting with danger as they do things with motorcycles that could in theory result with 400 lbs of metal, plastic, and hot solvents falling on your body.  But these guys are good.  They are consistent in their execution and they make it look only moderately difficult (because it's impossible for it to appear easy).

In addition to the entertaining stunt riders, the CHP gave a demonstration of their motorcycle cops riding their BMW R1200 bikes through a cone slalom course, after which anyone could try their hand through the cones. 

Alex's blue & white paisley stunting bike

East Bay Motorsports had a booth where you could check out some of the different kinds of vehicles available at the shop as well as some of the gear.  During the break between stunt shows, you could meet the riders, buy merchandise, and get autographs.  East Bay was giving out free food as well - chips, hot dogs, soda, water, donuts, and other random snacks. All in all it was a pretty good time for a free event with free food. 

Jason's Harley stunt bike

From the announcements, it sounds like this will happen again at least annually if not more often.  When it does I highly recommend going because it's worth the rush of seeing someone stunting up close and personal.  Even if you're not a huge motorcycle fan, it's worth seeing at least once for the experience of it. These guys are phenomenal athletes doing crazy things for our entertainment. A little homage is totally worth it for everyone involved.

ODC - A Dance Show SF Adventure

One of my friends has a sweet job at a nonprofit dance company. Seeing as it is their 40th anniversary, employees got a number of tickets comped for the series of March shows.  My friend, feeling like giving her friends a sporting chance, decided to send a mass email - first to respond got tickets.  So, I responded and got some for the March 18 show.

Well the night was drizzling and a Friday night in downtown San Francisco is generally a hopping place to be.  Streets were still crowded with pedestrians and cars alike.  We finally parked in the SFMOMA lot and then walked over to the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts where the performance was being held.  At the ticket windows there were huge lines of artsy hipsters and the like.  We were running a little short on time, so someone came out and yelled to make sure we were all there for the performance and that we had only 5 minutes.  The lights flickered along with the seating bell.  The woman then reassured us the show wouldn't begin until everyone was seated.  Eventually we got to the window and claimed our tickets.  Inside, an usher kindly showed us our seats.

We didn't have to wait long before the lights dimmed.  The artistic director gave a short speech regarding the anniversary of the company as well as thanking sponsors.  She left the stage and the curtain went up.  The first piece, being performed for the first time, was "Listening Last."  The music went back and forth between a lot of marsh sounds including crickets and frogs, and city sounds such as traffic, sirens, and alarms.  There was some interesting group choreography reminiscent of natural settings, however the majority did not appear to showcase the dancers' abilities.  At least two of the female dancers were unable to hold poses and were slightly stiff.  This may have been because the dance was so new, I'm not sure.  Additionally the piece was a little too modern for my taste - the music and the movements felt inaccessible (and in the case of the music during one portion, physically painful).  Despite that it was a creative discussion of the differences between urban and rural life.  One could go so far as to say it was a compelling emotive argument for rural simple living.  While I could appreciate the interesting discussion of urban v. rural living, I still didn't enjoy the piece (I should note here that Christian did - to each their own). At that point I was a little concerned about the second piece.

Fortunately, "Stomp a Waltz, which was first performed in 2006 was both musically and visually accessible as well as appealing.  The red and black costumes, the acrobatic highly energetic and sometimes romantic movements, were a pleasure to watch.  It was almost overwhelming to watch - each area of the stage had interesting and beautiful dance happening in concert.  I found myself having to look this way and that because I was too close to the stage to see everything at once.  It was the kind of piece I would enjoy seeing again to see the things I missed, and find nuances that may have been hidden to me in the first viewing.

The third and final piece was modern (in that it was strange) and accessible simultaneously. "Waving Not Drowning: A Guide to Elegance" had simple costumes, interesting dancing, and was set to a woman's voice discussing what makes a woman elegant.  It culminated with the female dancers spending a significant portion of stage time dressing the male dancers in paper outfits (some with headbands complete with paper flowers - one even had fairy wings).  The dress time was weird, and even though it was funny, it felt like it was just a really slow punchline to an already elongated joke.  Granted, I did laugh out loud quite a bit - especially when the male dancers began dancing in their new 'girlie' paper outfits.  It was an interesting comment on the nature of fashion and how it relates to femininity.

After the show, there was a small party free to all audience members on the balcony (sorry, this doesn't happen every night!).  Drinks, cheese, and strawberries were in evidence, along with some music (which I think was a CD?) and way too many people.  It was so crowded we decided to leave in about two minutes.

Instead of partying with our fellow audience members, we walked to a diner that was about 4 nice sized blocks away.  Keep in mind it was 10:20pm, and the parking garage closes at 11. When the garage closes, you can't get your car out - you're stuck BARTing it home.  Well considering we needed the car and didn't want to spend the extra cash required for 24hr parking, we inhaled our food and then booked it back to the garage.  Luckily, we got there with time to spare and were home before midnight.

Morals of this story: 1) ODC is an interesting dance company that is worth checking out especially if you are open to more modern dance companies (and can handle more cerebral music and choreography). 2) Always check the time your SF parking garage closes, because otherwise you might have to ride the bacteria infested BART seats all the way home and pay $30 for parking.

Dell Cafe - Locally Owned Businesses For the Win

One of the things I really like about the Bay Area is the number of locally owned businesses.  So many places have become over run by huge corporately owned chains or franchised places that effectively homogenize America - which is gross.

On Castro Valley Boulevard locally owned business after business lines the street. Yes, you do have a few flagships like large grocery chains and of course the requisite number of fast food joints.  Still there are a lot of wonderful stores, service providers, and restaurants that are worth checking out.  I'm thinking in particular of my new favorite breakfast/lunch location - the Dell Cafe.

On the outside Dell is nondescript, another tan building with a small parking lot that it shares with several neighboring businesses.  Inside however, Dell brings you back to another time.  A family owned business, Dell is where everyone working there is family and so are the loyal customers.  The menu is limited - simple - but good.  When you get an omelet with avocado, you get a plateful of omelet and hash-browns with a HUGE helping of avocado - for $6. It's comforting to sit in the burgundy booth stare at the large mural of Castro Valley in the 40s when the cafe originally opened.  Add the delicious and inexpensive food and the casual family atmosphere it's a great place for brunch.

It's places like the Dell Cafe that make you feel like something in the world is still the way it should be.  Those kinds of places are closing across the country, with the economy the way it has been, and the increase in chain restaurants.  People often times don't want to take a risk on something they don't know.  But with reviews easily accessible and map programs directing you to frequently searched locations, it's easier now to find the sweet local places.  I for one, want to live in places where there are more locally owned shops than not.  Its locally owned businesses that maintain community health and keep an economy going.  So go find your Dell Cafe

Fisherman's Wharf - Adventures in San Francisco

After our organ recital experience we really needed to do something else, namely, Christian wanted to get doughnuts and coffee to combat the rainy day.  We searched for nearby coffee/doughnut shops and came up with a small franchised place called Latte Express  near Fisherman's Wharf.  After navigating several large hills and a few winding streets we found ourselves in the tourist monstrosity of Fisherman's Wharf.  I had been there once, as a tourist in 2004.  Needless to say, the place looked very different now in the rain around dusk. 

We found cheap parking for San Francisco and walked several blocks towards the little shop.  The streets were filled with vendors of trinkets and blaring signs. One Latin vendor smiled to a Chinese vendor and greeted him in Mandarin from under the overhang.  As expected, there were few tourists.  No one wanted to brave the evening rain that Sunday.  The few people we did see on the sidewalk were clearly associated with a hotel nearby.  The two or three young couples walking were tall and beautiful.  I immediately thought of Santa Barbara and wondered if I had found some strange locus that existed in the Bay.

We soon reached the shop, which was more of a convenience store than anything, the back wall completely covered by a set of drink refrigerators.  An overly friendly security guard talked up the shop (what he was guarding was not there, he must have been on his patrol).  The Asian woman behind the counter loudly and shrilly asked us what we would like.  I had been hoping for more of a cafe, and had wanted to pass it by, but because of the beckoning inside, Christian and I went in.  Plus, the doughnuts in the display looked good even if the coffee didn't.  I settled on a powder-sugar doughnut and Christian got an old-fashioned.  The sugar hadn't been brushed off very much from mine, and as I ate it went everywhere.  It cascaded onto the floor, my jacket, the table, and of course, exploded during each bite which caused it to go all over my face like a three year old might.  Christian laughed at me, to which I responded by rubbing my gums with my finger which only caused him to laugh more. I proceeded to remove the excess sugar from my face. Still, it tasted good and it was nice to have a coffee after being in the cold rain.

Feeling the urge to walk after we were sufficiently caffeinated, we went a block to the street right next to the water.  Of course here there were many more shops, bars, and restaurants, most of which were franchises.  We kept walking though until we could see the boats in the water, and finally came to Van Ness End, and then proceeded out the concrete pier.  A family was fishing, the kids running around and screaming at each other.  The pier was falling apart on one side which made us wonder what would happen if an earthquake occurred.  The old-fashioned lamps came on slowly as we walked out.  It started drizzling again.  But it was worth the walk to see the hill from the water.  The clouds half obscuring the city sitting just a little back from the water gave it a dream like appearance, and the buildings lit, were at once reflected both above and below, though to differing degrees.  Because the sun had clearly set, and the sign on the pier implied it would be locked soon, we decided to walk back.

On our walk back to our car, the streets had become covered in tourists, nearly all of them in rain gear and many inches shorter than me and that much more shorter than Christian.  I wondered why that was, the heights of people, and if it was an indicator of anything.  I thought again of Santa Barbara, land of people akin to trees they were so tall.  But this is San Francisco, which is homogenized in its diversity.  It's a place where Latin vendors speak in Mandarin to their neighboring Chinese vendors.  Yeah, this is more what I think of when I think urban America.

Organ Recital at Grace Cathedral - Culture for Free in the Bay

Our continued adventures in San Francisco took us to Nob Hill today and Grace Cathedral. We checked out Fun and Cheap in SF and found that Grace was holding a free organ recital. It's been some time since I've been in a cathedral, but my father was the minister of a downtown first church which was as close as Baptists can get to a cathedral.  Along with the dark cavernous Gothic architecture, I also grew up with an organ that you could walk through.

Needless to say it had been a long time since I had seen huge stained glass windows, flying buttresses, and large blocks of stone, let alone heard organ music that caused everything in 100 yard radius to vibrate.  We decided that a free concert would be worth the trip.  So we dressed up a little and headed across the Bay to Nob Hill.  We found a parking space on one of the steeply graded hills and squeezed our compact car next to the curve with some difficulty. 

Grace Cathedral has two labyrinths, one inside and one in a courtyard next to the main entrance of the sanctuary. Just inside, to the right there was and entrance to a chapel and some tapestries hanging on the columns.  The church had roped off the sanctuary passed the door to help control random visitors.  Christian and I were greeted by a man with programs.  Apparently there had been a singing group an hour earlier which we had missed.  I wasn't sorry about that, though looking at the church website, it's clear they have quite the eclectic series of musical acts that perform.  Today we had the pleasure of an accomplished organist, Gail Archer.

The music, by Franz Liszt, wasn't my favorite.  I would have preferred Mendelssohn or Bach.  Still, it was nice to hear the organ, even with typical Cathedral acoustics.  It was nice to be transported while taking in the stone columns and the gorgeous stained glass.  Below the windows were strange frescoes depicting political and church related scenes which seemed like a farse when viewed along with the windows showing iconic figures and the ornamental stone carvings decorating each column. I found myself thinking about all manner of things, about the church, about Catholicism (even though this church was Anglican), about my history with churches, and the different magical worlds created with each swell in the music.

Once it was over, I found myself wishing I could walk the labyrinth and explore the church grounds. Unfortunately it had begun a steady rain sometime during the second or third piece.  Grace is worth visiting, both the cathedral and the concept.  It's a beautiful space that has many things to offer (despite any problematic acoustics that might exist in the sanctuary). Any time you miss the sacred spaces of European Christendom, there's always an excellent specimen in downtown San Fransisco to visit that has great music.

Adventures in the Bay - A Ride to the Sea

 After our adventure in Dolores Park, we decided to go to a place we had never gone before - the other side of the peninsula.  Rather than having a specified plan, we left the Mission District and headed west.  We inched our way through the highly fashionable, commercially robust, and techni-colored Castro District. As we wound our way along the hillside, we came upon a sign for Twin Peaks.  Thinking of David Lynch, we turned onto the twisty road to Sutro Tower.  We were lucky to be there on such a clear day. San Francisco is known for its fog, but that day there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  We could see the entire bay and all the way to the ocean. I couldn't believe our luck - it was beautiful.

After being swept away by the wind and taking a multitude of pictures, we got back into the car and continued our journey west.  As we continued west, the buildings transitioned from businesses and townhouses to individual houses with yards and trees.  It wasn't until we were within sight of both the zoo and the ocean that we stopped for dinner.  At the Java Beach Cafe sitting outside, Christian ate a hot sub and I had a spinach feta peasant pie along with a Stella.  I didn't think it was a coincidence that a cafe served beer next door to the Irish Cultural Center. Bellies pleasantly full, we drove into the sunset.  The drive along the ocean to Lincoln Way boasted dunes covered in ice plant and the occasional jogger.  It brought memories of the wharf in Santa Barbara.  The smattering of palms made me long for southern climes where you're able to swim in the ocean without a wet suit.  Still, the Bay Area isn't too shabby.  You can't go wrong with beer, Irish Culture, and a clear view.

HP7 - Deathly Hallows Part 1

There are different kinds of people in this world.  Some of them have bad taste in music.  Some have bad taste in books.  Others have the palate of a 5 year old. Still others have bad taste in movies. 

The definition of bad taste varies depending on who is perceiving whatever taste is in question.  I will be the first to own up to my need for epics, fantasies, and campy science fiction in film and television.  I can hear the sigh of disdain when my addictions come up in casual conversation, which they frequently do because of the rise in popularity of fantasy and sci-fi in Young Adult fiction.  It's true, I did a Buffy marathon.  I watched Ghost Whisperer religiously on cable reruns.  I did watch the Twilight saga (Okay, but half of the reason for that was because of the naked boys, I'm sorry.  It's totally true. I couldn't stand the whining of Bella after book three and never read book four.).  When Star Trek came out with the Next Generation, growing up, I was sitting there on the carpet with my dad watching that too.  So it's no wonder that I had to see all of the Harry Potter flicks in the theater, after all, I read and own all the books. 

Unfortunately, the books are detailed.  This inherently means that 3 hours is never enough to capture all the details of the story.  Movies are interpretations of their book selves.  For those who just watched them and didn't read, that sucks, because the books are awesome.  Well, I mean, I like them better.  Still, for the most part, Warner Brothers has done a fairly good job with the movies.  Yes there were changes, but all in all, the film interpretation kept the spirit of the books, which ultimately, is as good as you can hope to get.  Having a great cast doesn't hurt either. Yet even with all this in mind, I found myself disappointed with the Deathly Hallows.

Maybe it was because of the role of Dobby in the movie versus the book.  Maybe I wanted more development of the struggle Harry had choosing between the horcruxes and hallows or the tension between Ron and Hermione.  Maybe it had something to do with the cut off place between Part 1 and 2 (which while necessary if WB wanted to get all the details in the movie, is irritating to anyone who read the books and wants to see the rendition of the next plot point).  Then again, some characters just materialized out of thin air and others seemed to be erased, as is often the case with books turned into movies.  It's irritating enough to make me wonder if I even want my someday published works turned into movies....  Nah, I think I'll live.  In the mean time, I'll smolder over Part 1 and reserve final judgment for the battle of Hogwarts in Part 2.  I guess we'll just have to wait until summer...

For a little art history...

I'll be the first to admit I am HORRIBLE, and I mean, HORRIBLE at remembering specific artists or the history behind paintings.  I should clarify.  I am horrible at remembering things I don't care about, which means, most art before the modernists.  Things I like, certain paintings by Cezanne for example, stick in my memory as if I were standing in front of them.  Cubism is etched in my mind, being one of my favorite art movements, though it is often one of the least understood and is to the art world as improvisational progressive jazz is to music to the average Joe. 

I figured I would hook you up with a blog that has some daily anecdotes from historical art movements.  No, it's not anything recent, so if you're looking for the next sweet thing from Chelsea, forget it.  But if you're interested in getting regular artistic thoughts and history on specific paintings, go ahead and take a gander at SPARTACUS.  You're bound to learn something within two phrases. I did.

The Dirty Bird - A Review

My absences have been getting more regular.  I apologize for that...seems the world is out of my hands on that one. The only excuse I can offer is the subject of this post - The Dirty Bird.

We've passed the place a million times, always vowing to go in and try it out but never making it.  Partly this was due to our church mice situation, partly we just kept forgetting, and thirdly, none of our friends live in Hayward to come with us.  Well Saturday we had a little extra cash and nothing better to do, so we decided to hold true to our vow.  Getting there a little early, the place was pretty quiet.  The juke box was thumping hip hop hits, and sitting at the bar was everything from gangsta ghetto style to a ten gallon Stetson. Every wall had a different style of art with the theme of tattoos and women running through them.  Lighting was subtle and chill in blues and reds. 

My long islands were good and textbook.  Christian was pleased with his Maker's and Coke.  At about 10:30 people started to fill the place.  Music began to mix up and included Peaches and Chaka Khan. Everything coming out of the box made us want to bop our heads.  The crowd was mixing more, with metro-smooth, classy, nerdy, and biker all represented.  The bouncer, about as white as Christian, laughed as much as we did by music choices, and people's antics. 

Overall, the Dirty Bird was a fabulous place that we would readily bring friends, family, and definitely talk up as much as we can.  It has become our local bar, should we have any excess funds and a need to get out on the town.