It Takes a Villages (Tribute #1)

It seems once one starts to follow the nostalgia trail, there is no turning back until all is vetted.  Lately I've been thinking about the person I've become and the many people in my life who have impacted me...

If I take you back more than just a bit, gentle reader, to my teen years, you would have met a quiet, pimple faced, innocent boy with extremely good manners (almost television quality) and a habit of apologizing for everything.  I know most teens lack self confidence but my esteem was lower than the chassis of a Delorean.   My working class parents weren't overly encouraging as money was tight, the work day was extremely long, and they didn't have the luxury of spending time or effort encouraging us beyond their own understanding of success.

Awkward prom night photo...yes, I did have a date. 

Yes, folks, the pimple faced, skinny boy who was extremely polite and as sarcastic as any other teen.  

I'm sure friends that knew me in those years may see some of that introverted awkward teen still struggling in me, but most others see the confident, stubborn and outgoing educational leader that I have become.  Hopefully, they also see a principled person with a high degree of integrity, because these are qualities I admire in others and try to model as much as possible.

In my life's journey, I've met scores of people that have had an impact on me.  I consider myself a middle class success, drowning in debt of course but not starving by any means.   Professionally, I have a job that I like and sometimes even love, I consider myself a good leader striving to be even better.  Most of my closest friends would consider me somewhat driven, a trait I believe comes directly from my mom.

If you had known me in those teen years, you may have discounted my potential to achieve even this modicum of success.  Not because I wasn't bright, or kind, or even talented in some respects, rather because I couldn't envision any life beyond my current circumstances.

Like many teens, I really didn't have a vision of what life could be like.  The more I work with students I see major differences in world views between those that are on the road to a successful and joy filled life (no, I don't want to argue about what is actually a successful life, define it how you will gentle reader), and those that are on entirely different path fraught with difficulty and often with despair.

The difference is having a positive vision of where one's life can go.  We don't teach our students that the life we live is the life we choose to live.  Those that see themselves as successful are able to set goals, work hard, and to eventually be successful.  Our children are often waiting for the lucky break, the chance to be on the voice and achieve instant stardom, being recruited out of college to the NBA, or being discovered as the next big star by sitting in Schwabb's Drugstore.

When I was a teen I couldn't even envision any lucky break nor could I even envision college, a relationship, travel, etc.  Despite a few minor exceptions (my Humanities teacher who never said, "If you go to Europe", rather always made a point to say, "When you go to Europe."), high school provided no better guidance or direction.  In fact, the covert sorting mechanism prevalent in high school meant I was destined to not achieve, I wasn't in the AP classes, wasn't on target for an athletics scholarship, and certainly didn't have the grades for any sort of academic scholarship.

So, all of this ranting and raving is just the build up to the point.  During those turbulent years, I did meet a family hat helped provide me with the tools to envision a life beyond a low wage job and a rental unit in the poorest parts of some small town.

Gail, the person who knows where all of the skeletons from my life are buried, introduced me to her family pretty early on.  Over the course of time, I became very close with her parents, Doug and Bev. Although my love for Gail is unshakable and her impact on my life is immeasurable, her parents helped me in ways of which they may not even be aware.

Gail and her sister Maggi...what sweet ladies.

Gail, the early years.  

Over the course of several years, these lovely people continuously encouraged me to follow my dreams, to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish.  In discussions about going to college or traveling or whatever crazy dream of the moment I happened to have, there was never a time when Bev or Doug placed a barrier in my path.  My self defeating head said things like, "Oh my grades aren't good enough to go to college, and I couldn't afford it anyway."  Instead of providing an unpalatable solution, the answer from Bev was always something like, "Just apply, the money will come.  You'll find a way."  Opening a door to the possibility was the motivation that I needed at the time.  Just someone to tell me that I should believe in myself and everything will happen.



Doug and I often played racquetball, and he often stomped me in the game (he has an awesome back hand and a little bit of a crafty mean streak in the game...).  He doesn't realize that those hours were a way for me to learn from him more than he knows.  We discussed ideas, and talked about his past.  He often filled my head with possibilities.

Both Bev and Doug were mentors to me when I needed a mentor desperately.

This is not meant to be a slight to my own parents who made me the person I am.  From my mother, I know I received a sense of Schwabian efficiency, professionalism in all that I do, and a certain style lending to the formal side.   From Dad, morality based on the greater good and not the individual need, wisdom to follow rules and more importantly to know when to break them, and diplomacy.  Very good people with everything going against them, and yet they made it work.  My tenacity in relationships is really a by product of their example.  I am tenacious in my loyalty to people,  a trait that I admire in myself and others.  I know that sounds a little self aggrandizing, but an important insight none the less.

The point is that I am the person I have become because others envisioned a life grander than I could envision myself.  Mentors don't impact you because they spend time with you, nor because they give you advice.  Mentors impact you because they can see you being successful.  They have an unwavering belief in you.  My mentors have come into my life when I needed them most...they have impacted me in ways they will never know.

You, gentle reader, are probably a mentor for someone and you may not even realize it.  Spend some time telling your acolyte that their crazy ass dream is possible, even if you don't really believe it to be.  The more you say something is possible, the more someone will believe anything is possible.

Nothing Screams Fall Like Octoberfest

October is here, and the weather is lending itself to anything but fall.  We've been suffering an endless summer for a long time and our water in this infernal desert is all but gone.  Everyone's grass has turned to every shade of brown.  Still we move forward through the year at least marking the seasons with holidays.  I know Halloween is almost here for all the adorable pictures of kids in pumpkin patches posted on Facebook.  It kinda makes me regret never having a cute little accessory to fill my time and drain what little expendable cash I have.

Halloween is on the way, and gentle readers, I've been out voted...the blow up cat and the blow up friendly faced pumpkins won't be going in the front yard this year.  Instead we are opting for the terrifying spider webs, burnt pumpkins and yes, the Pumpkin King (not to be confused with the trademarked Great Pumpkin).  Our neighbors went scary Halloween last year and our competitive natures are getting the best of us.  So, enter our front porch...if you dare!

Speaking of witches, goblins and ghosts, the ever ethereal Carolyn breezed in for a few day's visit on her way to a Hooping Conference.  A short time with Carolyn goes a long way in reminding me of the important things in life.  We all need to take joy in the simplest pleasures, having Carolyn in my life is a constant reminder of that!

While Carolyn was a here, we took a quick trip to the Statue of Liberty, Oakland Marina style.  

During the visit we managed to show off much of our lovely Bay Area.  Luckily the Folsom Street Fair was in the city and we wandered the streets gawking at the leather outfits, displays, open sexuality, BDSM acts, and nudity galore.  For some reason it seemed a little less touristy and a little more actual leather community perversion.  You know me, pretty jaded by now, but there were a few passing oddities that caused me to turn my head around and suffer a bit of whiplash.  Im just happy at this stage of life I can still blush a bit.

Hugs at Folsom.  

Enjoying the shocking sites at this little street fair.  

We did get to see Brontez singing at the fair.  He's the frontman for the Younger Lovers, a punk, garage pop, rock band from Oakland.  They sing such lyrical poetry as Sugar in My Pocket.  Brontez has more than a bit of Oaklandish in him, and I love that he is a fixture of this side of the bay.

Speaking of music, earlier this month we caught Cibo Motto at the Parish in San Francisco.  Yuka and Miho were in town for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.   The music was incredibly strange of course, but fun...they started with Sugar Water and ended with Birthday Cake.  A mostly high energy show with a lot of opportunities to dance.  

We were right at the front next to the stage in this pretty small venue.  The audience was filled with middle aged people there for the nostalgia of the 90's when Cibo Motto was super alternative.  There was one group of young guys right next to us (by young I mean 18-19 year olds), definitely earnest, stoned musician types, just yearning to be noticed and seem cool.   An odd evening to be sure, but the ladies of Cibo Motto seem to have a dynamic stage presence and a graciousness not found in every band today.     Know Your Chicken, people, Know Your Chicken!

Other fun fall festival forays...we joined Matt and Tyler for a few beers in the Dimond for Oaktoberfest (the Dimond is the neighborhood right next to ours).  The weather was sweltering, all the more reason to sample multiple beers from local breweries.  I was a bit disappointed in not seeing one Ompah Band, rather, the order of the day was Salsa and Merengue.  Two nice styles for sure but it doesn't scream Octoberfest.  

Rusty, Tyler and Matt clinging to the shade during the sweltering heat of Oaktoberfest.

This month, we also attended APE (Alternative Press Expo.) at Fort Mason.  It was awesome to speak with so many different artists and authors creating magazines, comic books, graphic novels and art work.  Yosiell had a booth as well to sell Sicklings and his book, A Field Guide to Black Twig Forest (I'm listed as the copy writer for this book...hooray, my first published book!)

Snail Rider Sickling, a hit at APE

Yosiell and his booth.  

More Snail Riders at the low, low price of 100 clams.

Well gentle readers, October is flying by at a lightening pace.  School is keeping me super busy, working lots of weekends to just get caught up.  Still, there are many local diversions to be had in this City by the Bay.  Enjoy the too short fall, and send water! 

Little Beirut

Legend has it, George Bush Senior touched down in Portland Oregon on Air Force One and refused to leave the plane calling Portland "Little Beirut" for all of the protests and liberal politics.  The legend has since been debunked, and we now know that Bush staffers actually coined the phrase. Regardless, Portland residents wear the nickname with pride, as well as a host of other nicknames including: City of Roses, Stumptown, Bearvana, Rip City, and Bridgetown.  Whatever you call this little town, she opened up her welcoming arms to us for an extended weekend vacation.

This is a city very proud of its liberality and of its acceptance of all people.  In stark contrast to this ideology is the fact that Portland ranks in the top three or four of the whitest big cities in America.  The lack of diversity was certainly noticeable when walking around and seeing the sites.  Don't worry gentle readers, we weren't about to let the straight white man keep us down...

Our first night, Old Town Pizza.  We enjoyed a cold beer and a slice or two at a pizza joint that was once the lobby of the Merchant Hotel (est. 1880).  The locals believe this building to be haunted by a former prostitute of the hotel, Nina.  She is said to have been thrown down an elevator shaft for informing local missionaries about the illegal ventures of the hotel management.  She can most often be seen in the tunnels under the hotel but has been known to wander the restaurant as well.  The entire restaurant is really indicative of the oddness that is Portland.  It is also very indicative of the genuine friendliness we found from all the residents of this hamlet.  I'm sure there are assholes in Portland too, but we just happened to meet lots of super nice people.

After a good night's sleep and a hearty biscuits and gravy breakfast at Tin Shed (our favorite breakfast of the trip), we went on a walking tour of the city with an exceptional tour guide.  We spent lots of time discussing the seedy beginnings of Portland, including the big personalities of Portland's early residents.  Many of the shops and buildings downtown started as large hotels, serving as both bars and brothels to the sailors and lumber jacks in the area.  These former hotels have been parceled out into restaurants, stores and offices.

Portland purportedly had Shanghai Tunnels under the Old Town area.  Shanghaiing refers to the practice of tricking or intimidating men into being sailors (typically, a young man would be offered a bed, booze, and a prostitute and when presented with a bill he couldn't pay would be conscripted into service or threatened with jail time).  The legend is that the tunnels under the city were used to Shanghai sailors.  Although these tunnels may have been used on rare occasions for this purpose, the tunnels were actually used to move cargo from different points of the city to the docks.  The tunnels were also used as aqua ducts to move water after flooding.  As the automobile gained in popularity the tunnels needed to be filled to prevent roadways from caving in.

One of the interesting tales on this tour was the story of Nancy Boggs.  The legend has it that Mrs. Boggs ran a floating bordello to avoid the whiskey tax from two different towns sitting on the river that today makes up all Portland.  Men taking the ferry from one side of the river to the other could stop off at the floating bordello and enjoy whiskey, women and gambling on the boat.  There are plenty of stories about this Floating Palace of Sin and plenty of historians questioning whether the story itself is actually true.  True or not, I choose to believe this legend about Portland, the very idea has the makings of a racy novel...

Next stop: VooDoo Donuts, known for their very unusual flavor combinations.  The tour guide claims to be close friends with the owner of this now really famous donut place.  He said the owner actually started the donut shop for late night drunks to have something to eat.  The weird flavors actually started with things like Nyquil donuts (a donut with a shot of Nyquil sitting in the hole), until the FDA put a stop to those shenanigans.

Daytime VooDoo...

Night Time VooDoo, 100 times spookier.  

We never got a VooDoo donut as the line was incredibly long with patrons waiting at least 90 minutes.  Even Nyquil filled donuts aren't worth a 90 minute wait.  

Portland is an odd place with more than a mere hint of bawdiness.  Besides the bare all stripper bars (more stripper bars per capita than anywhere in the nation), The Hung Far Low sign is a prime example of this tongue in cheek naughtiness.  After the restaurant closed, the sign became quite dilapidated, to the point where the city had it removed for safety reasons.  Portland residents were so upset about this that they insisted it be returned.  So, repaired and returned it was, and the city now owns the sign.  The tour guide mentioned that this used to be all in neon except the Tails part of the word Cocktails.  Clever Portlanders, clever.  

For the evening, we of course had to support the local past time, we hit the Silverado, a Gay Strip Club.  For four bucks, we had the privilege of watching young heavily muscled men dance to house music and drink actually affordable but compared to San Francisco, light pour drinks.  It wasn't too long before one of the "talent" spotted us and chatted us up for a bit.  His name is Alan, but forever in our minds he will be known as Model Alan (a la Lump Lipshitz).  It appears this dancer/conversationalist is also on a breakdancing team, who knew one could breakdance in a g-string (and out of one for that matter).   One impressive "dance" move from Alan was a handstand facing the wall with feet up on the wall...while twerking.  Oh, to be young, in shape, on drugs (allegedly) and able to twerk.  Impressive? Definitely.  Sexy?  Hmmmmm...we had to tip that back breaking effort.  We got out of there without a lap dance and without an STD, for that matter.  Good times people, good times.  

The next day?  Gallery hopping, including Antler Gallery, displaying a great show by Crystal Morey, an Oakland artist.    Although the Antler Gallery website highlights pieces from the show, there really is nothing like seeing the entire collection in one room.  Susannah Kelly, one of the gallery owners, was exceptionally helpful and friendly, an attitude we've come to expect in this city.  Another gallery we visited in the Lloyd section of town was Screaming Sky.  The gallery is really more of a shop heavily immersed in the vinyl toy scene, not a note worthy gallery space but awesome vinyls for sale.  

For lunch, Bollywood Theatre.  Excellent Indian street food with Bollywood movies playing on the screen.  Who could ask for more?  More weirdness from the city that embraces weird.  

We also decided to take the Aerial Tram to enjoy the spectacular views of Portland on the rare sunny day.  Everyone promised us that it rains constantly in Portland but lately our luck has been to visit a city and bring a heat wave right along with us.  

PDX at our feet!

The Aerial Tram, a mere four bucks for a round trip ride.  The most terrifying words on the trams were, "We're about to cross the tower, please prepare for the tower swing."  The tram swung fairly significantly at that point...unnerving if one doesn't expect this thrill ride.     

One can see many of the bridges in Portland from this vantage point. 

Instead of VooDoo donuts we opted for the less crowded and equally fabulous:  

My flavor of choice? Bourbon, Basil, and Blueberry all in one donut.  I was in sugar and brioche Nirvana.

Speaking of Bourbon, my absolute favorite part of the trip had to be the Multnomah Whiskey Library.  This members only library will allow non members in if every seat isn't reserved already.  The key is to get there early before a line forms...that is the one thing about Portland, people do not mind queuing up for food and drink.

The whiskey selection was over whelming to say the least.

We met our former acquaintance and now good friend,  Dave, at the library.  Initially we had met him at Tom and Becky's wedding, a gregarious and affable man living the PDX lifestyle.  I'm a little sorry we didn't see his wife and two kids, but with two teen daughters at home, we were happy to provide a few hours of heavenly respite with bourbon cocktails.


Instead of just bringing us our ordered drinks, the bartender wheeled a cart over to mix our Manhattans and Old Fashions right in font of us.  Of course he displayed the understated elegance, professional flourish, and slight disdain one can muster only in an exclusive establishment like this...gentle readers, you know my penchant for this type of top drawer pampering, and quite frankly the drinks weren't much more expensive than cocktails at our local haunts...that's the great thing about living in the Bay Area, everything else seems like a bargain.  We spent the rest of the evening bar hopping in the Pearl district, a fairly high end part of town...where are the seedy bars Portland?  Next trip for sure!

Our final day in Portland was spent in Washington Park.  First stop...the International Rose Test Garden.  Acres upon acres of beautiful flowers to wander thorough all to the strummings of a woman playing the harp.  This is the reason Portland owns the nickname City of Roses.  Can you feel the intensity and the excitement building...all I can say is...Yawn.  Unless you are an horticulturalist, I'm not sure the draw.  But we checked this off the list of "must see" attractions.

More interesting to us was the Traditional Japanese Garden a few blocks away up the hill a bit.

A massive Zen Garden for contemplation and mindfulness.  These types of gardens always make me think of cat litter boxes...

Fancy Koi.

A Japanese Haiku.  

For a late lunch, we opted for McMenamins Kennedy School.  An old elementary school converted to a hotel, restaurant, bar, brewery, and movie theatre.  The multiple bars in this space had school related themes.  We opted for the larger boiler room bar...

Pipe fittings seemed to be the overall design concept.  The beer was from the brewery located within the school.  The snacks ranged from pretzels with an incredible cheese sauce, to cajun spiced tater tots...is there anything better than tater tots and beer.  

We spent some time in some of the smaller bars as well, including the detention room (a whiskey and cigar bar), where I sampled a whiskey from the local distillery.  We didn't make it to the honor roll bar...but we shall return to this educational edifice when we make a return trip to Portland.  The company, McMenamins, have many bars and restaurants, you gotta love a company that takes old historical sites and makes them useful again, while still retaining the spirit of the site.  

Well gentle reader, this takes us to the end of our PDX journey.  We reluctantly made the ten hour drive home reminiscing about the art, roses, strippers, food, history, and whiskey of Portland.  The most impressive part of the trip was the friendly people we met while in this city on the river.   Thank you to the people of Portland for making our stay warm and welcoming.  

There Be Pirates in Vallejo!

Gentle reader, many of you may not be aware of my fascination with the history and the lore of pirates.  Odd, I know, for someone as grounded as I am to be obsessed with pirates.  My interest started as a fourth grade teacher in North Carolina when every year we would get to the section on Blackbeard and I would "invite" Blackbeard to the class to talk about his life...it was really just me dressed in a Blackbeard costume, don't worry folks, the kids weren't fooled either.  Pretty soon I was roped into talking with the entire fourth grade.

You know how it is gentle reader, you purchase your first pirate book "to supplement your teaching" at an out of the way book store where no one knows you, and pretty soon you've got a collections of 6 or 7 books on the subject...it's a dangerous road to follow friends, "Just say No!"

But who could say "No" to the Annual Northern California Pirate Festival in Vallejo.  Not me, that's for sure.  I now know what the Renaissance Faire performers do in the off season, they attend the Pirate Festival.

These people are pretty annoyingly legit when it comes to the outfits and being in character.  I saw one guy dressed as Blackbeard that would certainly put my costume from my teaching days to shame.  Surprisingly, people not in costume were in the minority.

Pirate Awesomeness! Let the festivities begin. 

Quaint little Sea Shanties, of course four hours of Sea Shanties was a little much...

A converted hover round chair...clever, clever captain. 

This mast was pretty authentic looking for being staked in the ground...

Surly crew members Rusty, Yosiell and Oscar enjoying a brief interlude before the beatings continue.  

After awhile, some started to mix their genres as steampunk pirates arrived and the burner crowd arrived in their Burning Man outfits without even a nod to the theme of the day.  Still, all added to the carnival atmosphere and a good time was had by everyone.  I was hoping the day might be a total wash and help to quell my obsession, no such luck readers, I'm just as obsessed as ever.  

Speaking of outlaws, the 4th of July holiday came and went in Oakland.  We took a bike ride down to Jack London Square, to enjoy the family friendly activities...lots of kids!  

                  

From there we attended a lovely quiet little barbecue at the home of Matt and Tyler, our almost neighbors.  Lots of good food and good company.  

Evening was soon upon us, and we left to go to the fireworks.  We figured a good viewing spot would be Alameda, seeing as how on parts of the island one can see the fireworks at Berkeley Marina and at the SF Embarcadero.   We pulled into a small parking lot facing the giant Oakland cranes and waited for the festivities. 

 

The fog, of course was coming in fast and furious freezing out expectant on lookers and obscuring much of the fireworks displays.  

Unbeknownst to us, this was where all of the local rednecks and outlaws come to shoot off their own fireworks.  The family in the car next to us had purchased $600 worth of fireworks, and were bound and determined to set off every single one.  Pandemonium ensued as one of the dads was holding a firework to shoot off and didn't realize this particular variety had multiple shots in it.  He started to put it down and when it went off again, he dropped it to the ground before picking it up in time to shoot it toward a car full of kids and parents.  Well, it ain't fun until someone loses a body part.  Luckily the paramedics were not needed and all was well that ended well.  

Of course soon after we decided that we wanted to keep all of our body parts and drove home with the self satisfaction of knowing that the biggest rednecks we have ever encountered may not be in North Carolina after all.  

In other June news, Yosiell and two others had a show at Faultline, "Omni, Trium, Perfectum".  Pretty cool stuff, the show is coming down this weekend but Yosiell's pieces will be up on his website soon.  

An instillation of witches...

A piece by Felicia Ann, another member of the Faultline group.  

My favorite piece of Yosiell's in the show...very Creepy-Cute.

Lisa Pisa's pieces.  

Felicia Ann subduing Yosiell.  

It was a great show and received lots of attention from the local art community.  We also went to California Great America for Yosiell's Birthday.  My recommendation?  Visit on a Monday during the summer.  Zero lines for any rides and no crowds.  We certainly enjoyed the water rides.  It was great to be reminded that roller coasters are fun no matter your age.  

It's Snoopy!  

Yosiell, Me, Jaimie, and Rusty enjoying the tallest, fastest (and ricketiest) wooden roller coaster in northern California...Oh, and the little girl in the bottom left hand corner photo bombing us...what's up with that?  

It's time to give a shout out to one of my newest favorite places, the Oakland Museum of California!   On Friday nights, the museum remains open late and sells tickets to the exhibits for half price...but the fun doesn't end there.  Near one of the entrances, the museum hosts a food truck rendezvous, with live music.  There is also a make shift bar, and a few activities for kids.    The crowd is certainly a microcosm of Oakland realness.  It' s a beautiful event celebrating the true diverse nature of our hamlet.  

Food trucks everywhere you look.  

The sun setting from the roof of the museum.  

Inside the museum, a DJ was spinning vinyl records and using instruments made from common household objects to add to the music.  

One of the current shows is:  Super Awesome:  Art and Giant Robot

A piece included from our friend Lee, AKA Leecifur.  Lots of artists interpreted the robot figure...following were a few of my favorites.  

Although all of the selected pieces are great, these are only a small taste of the entire exhibit.  

The museum also offers monthly bike tours.  We attended one such tour and rode around downtown looking at different historical spots.  

  

One of the spots we stopped at was a marker of where the first public school in Oakland stood in 1852.  This humble plaque marks the spot in a little easement between the street and where the BART goes underground.  The spot is very unassuming and is filled with trash and graffiti.  Rather depressing but maybe a good symbol of where public schools in Oakland are now, stripped to the bare minimum.  

One of the reliefs in a doorway of the Civic Center.  The center was built in 1914 in the beaux arts style.  It has housed many different events over the years including in the early years, a KKK rally.  Other events include Ringling Brothers Circus,  a Roller derby team, UC, Berkeley Woman's Basketball, Elvis Presley concert, Martin Luther King Jr. speaking (on the 100th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation) , the Grateful Dead played here (57 times), and very recently, Occupy Oakland marched on the civic center to reclaim the space for the people (it remains unclaimed).  

Taking the bike tour encouraged me to purchase and read Beth Bagwell's, Oakland, The Story of a City.  It is a very good basic read of Oakland's history and alludes to many of the larger than life characters that helped shape this city, but unfortunately doesn't really dive into the stories that make Oakland interesting.  The Civic Center is a building with an illustrious past and I would love to see someone actually reclaim the space for the people in a productive way...

As you can see, the Oakland Museum has inspired me to find out more about Oakland's humble beginnings blossoming into a major urban center.  Check out the museum, and hopefully you too will be inspired.  

Oakland is a city of extremes and contrasts.  It is always exciting to live in the blue collar center of the bay area.  Enjoy a final picture depicting the dismantling of the bay bridge...I've said it before, this looks like a great opportunity for the General Lee and the Dukes of Hazard to jump the river.  I will always be a child of the 70's sitcom.  

So, my Oaklandish friends and also any future visitors to our city by the bay...check out the local scene, there is a there, there!