End of Summer Recap

It's been too long blog friends. No good excuses besides the peculiarities of life consuming way too much free time. As the summer draws to an end and I begin to think of starting a new school year, I feel it my duty to bring my gentle readers up to speed on all of our happenings.

Let's pick up where we last left our protagonist, (cest moi). May was fairly uneventful, excepting a fantastic birthday party for Heidi...The party was hosted by Heidi's sister, Tonya, and included two of my favorite people, Jeff and Patrick. Lots of potent wine was consumed. One of Heidi's friends played an African Drum melody midway through dinner, quite the wonderfully quirky amuse bouche to our meal!

Patrick created an amazing birthday dessert, one couldn't easily turn a second piece away.
The Mortinson girls were in fine form. Gotta love the sheer powerful beauty of those German/Hawaiian girls!
Of course no birthday is complete without the fabulous birthday shoes!

And now to the reason we have been fairly incommunicado as of late. (There's really no place like "Gnome"). 

We've been spending the last few months finding our own hovel.   My primary activity from the beginning of June has been home ownership. Yes, readers, we've decided after three years to buy a place once again. 

We officially moved in to our five acres with a mule on June 13th (more like 1/10th of an acre and a looming mortgage, but there you have it). I guess after two years of hemming and hawing here in Northern California we are committed to life on the fault zone.

The house? A beautifully restored 1922 bungalow with a decent sized back yard. The place is in Oakland in a community oriented neighborhood. We've met tons of neighbors, including the 92 year old woman to the right of us, and the lesbian couple to the left . Yeah, access to old Christmas hard candies and power tools! This neighborhood has a walking score of 95. If you're wondering what the hell a walking score is...join the club! I do know that the "hood" has a cute little shopping area with a true value hardware, some restaurants, a cafe, and a few shops. Highway 13, my route to work, is close, and casual carpool, Rusty's route to the city, is two blocks away. This house was move in ready, a new concept to us as even considering our brand new home in Fuquay Varina. We are currently making plans to extend the deck and get some stairs to the backyard. Rusty is never truly happy unless there is some project consuming our free time.

I'm completely terrified of the mortgage but hundreds of thousands of Californians over extend themselves every day...what makes us so special we think we can escape the shackles of home ownership? It has been a good two mortgageless years of enjoying expensive restaurants and trips to foreign destinations (I'm talking about Oz of course). Time to get back to real life and drop the wine club, the often ignored gym membership, and Farmstead cheese shop in favor of the $100 store (I'm referring to Home Depot of course, I don't know about you but every trip always ends in a minimum of a Benjamin). We'll keep a few luxuries such as Peet's coffee, Grey Goose Vodka, and itunes downloads but everything else is up for grabs.

I, for one, have taken this as an opportunity to get back to basics...clean out mind, home and closet. Rusty is intent on continuing along the Great Depression hoarding philosophy, but this is another chance to better understand each other...wow, I almost said that with a straight face, knowing I'll continue to sneak things into the Goodwill pile.

It looks as if we have both survived another move, excellent considering the fifty/fifty odds.  

In June, we took a break from moving and enjoyed a day with our friends Janine and Jeff at Gay Pride. A mellow low key day of fun and frivality.

Every parade needs parade queens.  One truly never knows if the queens bring their own sashes or are presented with these honors.  
Janine and Jeff reserved grandstand seats in the shade, and we enjoyed the parade with the rest of the hoy paloy.  Where do we meet the power lesbians with connections to get us good seats?   
Red faced but loving a day of dykes on bikes, marching with drag queens, and lunch at Chow!   And so ends June.     

July 4th, all was well. Paul, Liz, their kids John, William, Emma and Rusty and myself enjoyed a picnic in the park...with watermelon, German potato salad, cherry soup, and fried chicken.  We reminisced in the Berkley rose garden, the place where Liz and Paul were married.  

Right about this time, I was reading a book titled, "Breakfast with Buddha".  Another road trip story about a dissatisfied family man traveling with a buddhist monk.    For some reason I enjoy these "enlightenment" stories, especially during the summer...and who doesn't crave roadtrip shenanigans a la Bob Hope and Bing Crosby.   I read this passage the night before the Fourth of July,

"I have a tremendous fascination with the United States of America, the grand, swirling variousness of it, the way it siphons off the ambitious, the poor, and the abused from so many other nations, the ability we seem to have to be noble and heroic at the same time as we are being arrogant and stupid.  I love my country, but I love it the way you love a wife of many years: not because you have some sentimental notion of her perfection, but because you know her thoroughly, from the courage of the maternity room bed to the pettiness of her morning moods; from seeing her sit for weeks by her dying mother's bedside, to watching her worry about which shoes to wear to a cocktail party given by a person she does not like...And then, always, there was the part of her you don't know.  It was like that with America and me."(Roland Merullo, Breakfast with Buddha) 

Sometimes I have a hard time remembering that I love America, especially when the recession has hit so many of my family members and loved ones, and when she dangles promises in front of me,only to yank them away (yes, I'm still pissed abut prop. 8).  But I also know that if any nation can create roses from manure, it is certainly the US.  I'm still excited to continuously discover different parts of our clever country...

Mom came for a visit just after the Fourth of July.  Wouldn't you know it, I also had jury duty.  I'm all for my civic duty but this was a civil case (meaning based on a dispute over damages for an accident).  I felt a bit dirty afterward because I didn't sympathize with either party, but there you have it, a jury of twelve people not smart enough to get out of jury duty...

We took mom to see Beach Blanket Babylon, something I recommend people do when they come to visit.  After so many times of seeing this show, I'm considering just dropping people off from now on and having a cuppacino and tierra misu in North Beach.  The show is really fun but as hosts we are now starting to recite the words with the actors.  We also did a bit of touring and had a good time catching up.  Mom is doing really well, and I look forward to seeing her soon in NC, if I can.    

During mom's visit we enjoyed our first dinner party in the new house.  Several friends from school came over to warm our house.   Mom spent some time with Issy, and then had to fly back to NC.  

Soon after we hosted our second dinner party.  Monique, Lance, and Heidi came over for some home made sushi.  I've branched out beyond California rolls and now try new things like sashimi (with sushi grade tuna and salmon) and exotic rolls.  We had a mango and kimchi roll as well as a cajun roll (cream cheese, tuna, string beans and cajun spice- Rusty will attest it is much better than it sounds).  

And for dessert, strawberry shortcake!  Mmmmm, delicious and highly photogenic.  

Rusty and I spent the subsequent Saturday evening at the Fire Festival.  This fund raising event was sponsored by the Crucible, an Oakland artists collective specializing in fire arts (i.e. foundries, metal work, glass blowing, fire sculptures, fire dancing, hula hooping, poi, etc.).  The collective also demonstrated their different arts.  We saw a glass blower, a welder, a blacksmith and many others.  

We watched some performances and viewed the phenomenal sculptures.  

This is a picture of a pendulum powered by jets of fire.  The force of the propellent was amazing.  As far away as we were, one felt the heat from all of the sculptures.  

This statue stood twenty feet and was engulfed in flames every few minutes. 

The roar from this flame was almost deafening.

The amazing part to me was how much I actually knew abut these things based on my friendship with Caroline.  I've always known Caroline is very talented, but when watching others perform, it is clear Caroline is truly gifted with her grace and her showmanship.  We were a little disappointed in the performances but it is because we are truly spoiled by Caroline...what snobs we have become. 

Have you ever laughed so hard that your stomach ached?  Well, try a week of this type of laughter.  Julie, Donna, and Robin came for a visit and despite having only one bathroom in the house, we managed to have a fantastic time.  

The weekend was spent in wine country.  We ate lunch at the Culinary Institute of America in Napa.  Wow, a  beautiful setting and a fabulous meal. We then went to Castello de Amaroso.  We toured the castle and then partook of some very generous pours by the tour guide.  She fancied herself a bit of a redneck but I don't think she knew what she was in for from the North Durham girls and our resident Raleigh chicken rancher.    The votes are in and the group preferred to refer to Julie as the Cock Wrangler instead...dirty birds!

A lovely day in front of the castle...

Julie and Walt looking like a JC Penney's ad, circa 1982...

Oh Amore, Amore, at our favorite winery, Viansa. 

 

Cheers!

From classy wineries to trashy leather street festival, only in SF.  We arrived at the Dore Alley fair as strangers and left as friends, or at least Julie and Robin did, creating quite a stir in their regalia, al la marquise de sade.  

A hot day and leather, boy the chafing must have been fierce.  

Talk about your southern goth drag queens, and that's just Julie and Robin...

A handsome, kilt clad, street trick...

Someone got a beedazzler!  

Talk about your happy pig...just a little picture on which to end because I know Med collects pigs and this will totally freak him out.

Well gentle reader, there you have it.  School starts very soon and my adventures will be much less exciting. I do have plans to try and visit NC this coming up year, enjoy some time with Di coming in from Oz, and to try and get to Idaho and Southern Cal. to visit loved ones.  I'm feeling the need to reconnect with friends from my formative years!  I'll keep you posted on my adventures as well as misadventures.  

Spring Cleaning

Spring is here.  Easter has just passed.  As a principal of an elementary school, spring is rarely joyous considering the tensions and pressures associated with the end of a school year.  These past weeks, I've spent some time getting some spring cleaning accomplished.  I've gotten laundry done, cleaned out the years of grime in the oven (uggg, what a tedious task), and had the carpets cleaned (professionally).  I feel a certain amount of catharsis accomplishing these tasks, as the drudgery of the winter seems to evaporate when the carpet and the oven are clean (freaky I know, but I am the son of a German cleaning fiend).  

The city of San Francisco has been doing a bit of it's own spring cleaning.  Light rains cleanse the city from dust and grime.  The grime pools in water on the nooks and crannies of the cornices and on the various mailboxes and signs.   Even a light rain causes a slow down in this fast paced city and a moment of desperately needed introspection.  Spring rains help wash the sins of the city away, sort of Mother Nature's absolution after a long dirty winter.  

Annual spring cleaning satisfies my compulsive German nature, and touches upon my Catholic imprinting.  My family was only Christmas and Easter Catholics, and I for one am as far removed from Catholicism as one can get.  Still, having two Catholic parents, the themes of Catholicism still hold sway.  Spring cleansing and absolution/self forgiveness are wonderful spring themes, Catholic or not.  

Speaking of Catholics and sin, Easter Day was spent at the Hunky Jesus contest with Art (visiting from NC).  The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence host the Hunky Jesus contest every year at Dolores Park.  What a fantastic way to spend Easter Day.   The bonnets were fierce, the drinks were plentiful and the Jesuses were everywhere.  This annual sacrilege was worth braving crowds and horrific parking.  We gathered with a group of friends, new and old, to enjoy a sunny day in the park with thousands upon thousands of potential acquaintances.  We indulged in way too many drinks and I went home to sleep off a bit of spring exhaustion, while Rusty and Art enjoyed an evening of bar hopping and beer busting!

The day before Easter (Saturday), we went to the AIDS memorial garden to honor Tiger, not a personal friend of ours, but a friend of many of my blog readers.  The memorial service was more of a celebration with many flag twirlers there performing in his honor.  There were a few hoopers as well, and a lot of "club" music.  A beautiful celebration of life!  


After, we went to an egg decorating party in a flat above the Castro with about 150 people from the Lone Star (a bar, no, an institution in SF) This party helped us feel really young and downright skinny (of course three or four bears in a flat can make a party seem over crowded), but the egg decorating contest was beyond compare.  The inventive use of sequences, feathers, beads and chenille made me weep. After we stopped by Truck (a pseudo redneck bar no true redneck, gay or straight, would ever be caught dead in) and met a couple of random bunnies.  At first we thought they might be part of bunny-con, but in true SF fashion, they just decided to hit the bars in bunny outfits.  Loving the randomness of SF.  Other highlights of Arts visit include a trip to the wine country.  Enjoyed the kindness of strangers, definitely worth it to go on off days when the workers are less harried.  The best part of the day was a trip through Benzinger biodynamic winery.  Biodynamic farming utilizes natural methods (similar to organic but more stringent and also focusing on sustainability) to grow wine grapes.  The wine country was really chilly with 25MPH winds...Brrrrrrr.  

We also took Art to Beach Blanket Babylon, and by sheer luck, Val Diamond, a favorite star and 30 year veteran of Beach Blanket Babylon, was performing.  While eating Tiramisu in a little cafe after the show, who should walk in but Val Diamond, could the evening be any more perfect. 

We enjoyed another dinner party in which Art and I cooked.  Jesse and Sally (old friends of Art, and now new friends of ours) braved the trek over the bridge to the land of five and dimers (that's 510 area code to those unfamiliar).  We served artisan pasta, artisan cheeses, artisan sausages, artisan baguette, and banana-misu.  Yes, everything we bought had the word artisan on it somewhere.  

We went to the Tonga room at the Fairmont on friday evening before it closes.  Yes, there is a threat to this local favorite.  The Fairmont is renovating the ballroom area and this may mean the end of the 1950's Polynesian Paradise.  I'm sure there is some movement in SF to Save the Tonga Room, as nothing ever happens without controversy in California.  Upon leaving the Fairmont, who should be standing on the street corner but the Brown twins (please refer to my 2/1/09 posting for an explanation of the Brown twins).  Unfortunately, we had no opportunity to speak with them as we were in a cab at the time.  

After the Tonga room, we were off to perhaps the best bar in San Francisco, (recommended by Jesse and Sally), Bourbon and Branch.  This is a speakeasy complete with a password to get in.  The bar also reserves a table for a limited time 90 minutes, and after your ninety minutes, one is shuttled into the"Library" of the bar, (just another part of the bar with actual books on the shelves.  The bar is covered in velvet wallpaper with a beautiful tin ceilings.  The menu has a wide selection of fine Bourbons.  As far as theme bars are concerned, Bourbon and Branch may need to be our new favorite considering the precarious status of the Tonga Room.  

Spring break is at an end, and Art has flown back to Raleigh.  I'm still catching up on all of my school paperwork.  Testing is right around the corner and then summer break, hard to believe, I know.  Spring has been busy but we are looking forward to a quiet summer.  We are also looking forward to Donna, Robin and Julie visiting at the end of July.  What fun!  We hope to see you all soon.  

Wacky Celebrities

San Francisco is like a cereal bowl, once you take away the fruits and nuts all you have left are the flakes.  I can't tell you how often I heard that little joke while in the military.   Offensive? Yes, but with a grain of truth.  I suppose every major city has whack-job celebrities, but the Bay Area seems to have more than our fair share of beloved odd balls. Let's stroll through a few of the oddities known as residents of the Bay Area.  

Rusty and I were keenly aware of the Brown twins our first go around in SF.  The ladies (Marian and Vivien) to this day frequent the Union Square area dressing alike, eating all meals together, and walking everywhere arm in arm.   I have said "Hello" to both ladies on several occasions (during our previous stay here) and have received polite sing-song return greetings.  These ladies have been featured in several low budget movies and on several commercials.  I appreciate the whimsy of their outfits and hope they never leave the downtown area.  I understand they have joined a pentecostal church as of late, I suppose we all find religion in one way or another, and at one time or another.  From Kalamazoo originally, they are the embodiment of San Francisco in many ways.  

 

The SF Weekly just ran an article on another Bay Area oddball (http://sfweekly.com/2009-01-28/news/gritty-in-pink/).  His name is the Pinkman.  He rides at street fairs and in crowded areas on a unicycle, often Market Street.  He wears a pink unitard, pink skullcap and a silver cape (a little aside, he is not Gay).  He is known to put people on his shoulder for a quick ride.  

He doesn't ask for any money for this, rather he does this as a source of joy to people.  He often suffers ridicule and derision, but has enjoyed some success (hired gigs) and has been to several countries sharing this brand of whimsy.  

There is a dark side to this story, as the SF Weekly reports that he, early in his life, while babysitting molested several young girls, touching them while they were sleeping.  Pinkman did confess directly to the families of the girls that were under his care.  The families chose not to press charges.  It cost him his wife, his family, and any chance of normalcy.  Can this abuse be forgotten? Not by me, a person who has advocated for protecting children his whole life.  Forgiveness is only for the girls and their families to give.  His high visibility vocation has forced him from most communities, as articles in newspapers create climates of hostility forcing him to move.  Don't think that I am sympathetic to a person who betrayed a child's trust, but the choice he has made to bring joy to strangers is a fitting penance for someone that has caused a great deal of pain to these families.   

The point is that people often arrive in the Bay Area to reinvent themselves.  Most do it quietly, but Pinkman with a nefarious past, arrived fairly visibly.  He agreed to the article because he feels San Francisco is his last stop, if unable to make a go of it here, then where?  I'm all about second chances and feel that a highly visible repentant sinner is much better than the quiet, video arcade worker, registered sex offender with no visibility.  Now that's the guy I worry about.  

My final famous Bay Area Freak is "Naked Guy".  This early nineties Berkeley student activist challenged social repression by rarely donning clothing.  His real name:  Andrew Martinez, from Cupertino California.   

Although David Martinez wasn't gay, I did see him at a Gay Pride Parade in the early nineties.  I didn't speak with him directly but he seemed like a quiet guy with an easy going demeanor.  He inspired a few "nude-ins" on the Berkeley campus and only was arrested, unemployed and no longer a student, when the Berkeley City Council changed the nudity laws in 1993.  

Today, I was saddened to find out that he had a very difficult life after this, as he started to manifest symptoms of mental illness (schizophrenia), was in and out of halfway houses, and committed suicide in a jail cell.  

Living in the Bay Area, one meets the odd, weird, freaky, dark, mysterious, artistic, and sometimes even dangerous.  Our wacky celebrities are most of all, human.  They experience human joys and losses.  They are also filled with human frailties.  I'm overjoyed Marian and Vivian are still around, and I'm very saddened by the death of "Naked Guy".   The flavor of the bay area is in the oddities, not so much in the money driven Market Street banality.  Sometimes that comes with some dark side effects, the story of humanity can be seen in the neighborhoods and streets of the city.  "There for the grace..."etc. 

The Recalcitrant Slacker...

Yes, I have been very slack in updating my stalkers...uhm, I mean blog fans. The holidays have come and gone and many adventures were had...Instead of a narrative, I'm posting some fun photos with captions.

Snow in O town before leaving out of Cali early December.  We left for NC just after Christmas. 

Driving to Ventura to pick up my nephew before flying to NC.  

Yes, the Central Valley of California can be pretty.

In North Carolina...

Bowling with the Lewis clan on a military base in NC.  Is there anything more American.  These are Rusty's bowling shoes, it was almost worth it to just walk out 

of the bowling alley with these fashionable finds.  

Christmas Movies and Friggin' Hot  (burn you twice) Thai Food Night at Med's!

Movie night shananigans!

On a thai hot pepper high!

What trip to NC is complete without a stopover at the Saucer...

The Saucer triplets!

Deb disapproving of the non-Zagat rated venue and Thiru just missing his pissy little dogs. 

Welcome 2009! New Year's Eve, at Mark Z's House. 

Erotic Cheetoh eating to ring in the New Year!

The Johnston County mullet mechanic crashes the party. 

These Princesses don't come from Disney.

Spandex clad vamp. 

Naughty librarian says "Shhhh" in the New Year. 

Winged victory!

Back to Cali on New Year's Day!  What a long flight. Certainly back to the grind. 

My New Ocean water aquarium.  Very complicated, 

but I've managed to keep my starter fish alive.  

One of my New Year's Resolutions this year was to host a dinner party every month. For January, Monique, Lance, Daniel Benatar (Rusty's Venezualan ex now living in the area), Patty and Jamey (w/ baby Jackson) enjoyed Cioppino (Italian fisherman's stew), Penne with Vodka sauce and some only average sourdough bread.

There's only one top chef in this kitchen!

Monique and Daniel enjoying witty conversation while waiting

patiently for the main event to come together, the top chef was a little behind on dinner time.

The Lance-a-nator! Monique's cute, musician type,

high-earning-potential, husband.

Aussie Day is right around the corner, as well as Chinese New Year and Mardi Gas...2009 promises to be a terrific year. 

Season of Miracles

"The whole building was up in flames but the word of God wouldn't burn," remarked the elderly Southern man to the enthralled patrons of the All-American Hero sandwich shop. After one accidental yet fortuitous fire, the shop underwent a complete renovation from a dingy little grease joint to a cinderblock monstrosity with garish bright white marquees, red and blue lettering and a hard to miss patriotic theme. A sandwich shop straight out of Sarah Palin's "real America". The singed New Testament (King James version of course) caught in the blaze, now sits in a glass display case, undoubtedly opened to an appropriate passage referencing fire, brimstone and the immortal word of God. A bona fide miracle on Roxboro Rd. in Durham, North Carolina.  

From the moment the bible was discovered intact and enduring among the ash and rubble of a burned sandwich shop, the miracle was declared.  Of course miracles point to the greater truth.  God, must have spared this bible as a portent or a sign of his omnipotence.   This "truth" is born out of a surviving bible. 

A professor of pulp and paper can explain until blue in the face that the reason the bible didn't burn had more to do with the amount of clay in the paper significantly reducing the burn rate.  As a matter of fact, burn rate is determined and controlled by this factor and bibles have lots of clay to ensure a strong survival rate in a variety of disasters.  

Does explaining this fact to the elderly devout owners of All-American Hero Sandwich shop lessen the potency of a bona fide miracle?  It is much easier to call into question the heretical rantings of the professor than determine this miracle to be a result of Science and circumstance.  The miracle of the bible would then be based on a subjective interpretation over the "truth" of an omnipotent intervention.  To question this miracle may lead one to question the very miracles of Jesus.  Could his miracles be explained by Science and/or subjective interpretations of events? Well, we are certainly in the handbasket now, full steam ahead on to hell!  

So, how can we believe in the transcendent mystery, the great watchmaker or the flying spaghetti monster for that matter.  Ralph Waldo Emerson speaks to transcendence: "Let us learn the revelation of all nature and thought, that the Highest dwells within us, that the sources of nature are in our own mind...There is deep power in which we exist and whose beatitude is accessible to us...Within us is the soul of the whole, the wise silence, the universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related, the eternal One.  When it breaks through our intellect, it is genius, when it breaks through our will, it is virtue, when it flows through our affection, it is love."  Do I truly know whether the divine actually does exist or the Soul  for that matter? I don't know.  I would like to believe that genius, virtue, and love is really the soul connecting with the divine.  I think Ralph Waldo Emerson is asking us to turn our search for the divine inward, and to look for the divine in the simple beauty in and around us.  He found the divine in nature, I find it in many places, nature, music, art, and in simple kindnesses hinting at greater virtues.  Non-burning bibles aren't as important when one searches inward for miracles and the divine.  The search continues in this season of miracles.   

Just Be Nice!

Moving back to California after an eleven year absence, one would expect a few cultural clashes.  Let me state for the record, I do not believe on the whole southerners are nicer than people in California.  But I do believe most southerners are raised with a stricter sense of manners than most Californians.  (Yes, this is an over generalization, because I have known rude southerners and polite Californians, added to this of course is the influx of New Yorkers to the research triangle park and their effect on the Raleigh Durham area decidedly raising the asshole quota in the area, but on average...Southerners are more polite). 

Case in point, Rusty was singing at the Castro Theatre in San Francisco a few weeks back  (The Passion of Joan of Arc, an excellent silent movie with a score written in the mid 80's, fascinating story, check it out on wikipedia).   I've had the remnants of a cough for quite sometime.  In the first part of the movie I had a tickle I couldn't dislodge and coughed five or six times.  The person in front of me stage whispered as loud as possible without being heard by the conductor "Enough!"  Well, embarrassed but realizing that I must have been real annoying for him to react so emphatically, I leaned forward, and said, "I'm sorry, but I can't control this cough."  In my job, it is clear when someone is irritated or angry the best thing to do is to avoid a power struggle and actually talk to the person.  He remarked back with a high degree of acidity, "Then you should take yourself to the lobby."  Of course this just got my blood boiling.  

I seethed through the movie, consequently reducing my cough considerably.  I was waiting for the chance to inform the man that many others in the theatre were unaware of his rule of coughing or clearing throats only in the lobby.  As we all know, I have a tendency to be somewhat aggressive in this type of situation, but was actually trying to take the high road.  The man making the remarks quickly shuffled his wife out before the standing ovation had finished in order to avoid a confrontation with sweet gentle moi.   If there is something I hate worse than rudeness, it is certainly the cowardice exhibited by this man.   Instead I had to just glare at the back of his head as he hurriedly left, as he conspicuously avoided eye contact.  Had we been in a theatre in Raleigh, I'm pretty sure the same scenario would have been much more civil and considerate.  The desired effect would have been the same, as a matter of fact, I would have probably excused myself to the lobby based on a mere suggestion rather than a commandment from the theatre police.  

Do manners matter?  Manners are different based on regions, situations and class.  Manners are a matter of custom (i.e. a hand shake), consideration (i.e. giving up a seat to an elderly person), or common sense (all manners have an element of common sense).  Although somewhat subjective, still important.  Truly, the most important of these is consideration, because we are talking about preserving people's feelings.  We are meant to live in a civil society, truly being mannerly is the grease to ease the cogs of our often difficult and complex life.   

If manners are important, why don't more people endeavor to exhibit manners and/or teach manners to their children?  Sometimes, I think manners have given way to our rights.  A sense of entitlement means never having to say sorry, or please, or thank you.  

Sometimes manners require  us to be patient and to delay our wants.  In the instant gratification, Burger King, Have it Your Way world we live in, there isn't much time for manners.   I'm amazed at the insistence of many  Californians for accepting others, yet don't take the time to show consideration for individuals.  

We've lived here eighteen months and as of yet, not a single person has brought over a bowl of chili or a plate of cookies (two things that happened to us in the RDU area).  I like many things about California, but I truly miss the hospitality and manners so easily evident in North Carolina.  

 

Hello Possums

What a truly odd Thanksgiving we celebrated this year.  Instead of spending hours in the kitchen and working to cook the perfect bird with Rust's family stuffing and the obligatory relish tray, we relaxed and went to the St. Francis Westin Oak Room for a late lunch/early dinner.  The Thanksgiving buffet was good, but quite honestly, because we chose not to cook and because Rusty has very traditional ideas about Thanksgiving, the K and W Cafeteria would have been more than enough.  (If only we had one in the bay area - 'Serve You? Serve you meat sir? I'll pass it down!  I said I'll pass it down.")   

After, to Maxfield's in the palace for martinis.  A must see bar for all visitors to San Francisco,the bar has a Maxfield Parrish painting/mural. The Palace paid $6,000 for The Pied Piper way back in the 30's.  Some of the children in the painting look a little Children of the Damned-ish with wild eyes and a creepy calm countenance, so of course we love this mildly subversive dream like painting.  

Then a walk to the Post Theatre to enjoy an evening of Dame Edna Everage.  

Dame Edna was in excellent form.  This self-proclaimed Australian icon and megastar caused us body aches from the convulsive laughter.  Songs like "Friends of Kenny", an homage to her hair dresser son and his "flatmate", and to audience participation bits such as audience members raising and waving Gladiolas made us squeal with delight.  Nothing like seeing the first seven or eight rows in a theatre raising swaying flowers culminating in a "trembling glad" crescendo. Brilliant, Absolutely Fucking Brilliant.  This is considered her First Last Tour, so if she comes to your area, make sure you get a seat in the first few rows! 

We braved Black Friday, and managed to buy more for ourselves than for Christmas gifts.  The crowds were tolerable and we managed to get home without hurting each other or anyone else for that matter.  Next on the Holiday roller coaster ride is Rusty's Birthday.  He will be out of town this week, but we will celebrate on next Sunday afternoon with a late lunch of Southern delicacies and cocktails, of course.  

I have much for which to be thankful, certainly not the least of these is to have a wonderful group of people on my bloglist all of whom are near and dear friends.  Keep in touch and come see us soon, make it part of your New Year's resolution.    

Typical Bay Area Saturday

"What do we want?...Equality!...When do we want it?...Now!"

This was one of many refrains chanted ad infinitum at the protest march in Berkeley against the marriage ban imposed by California voters. The crowd was pretty small, near two to three hundred people.  We figured most people were headed toward the huge protest in San Francisco. We marched in Berkeley so we could participate with my boss, his partner, an Assistant Principal in the district, her partner, and another principal ally (straight but not narrow, thank you girlfriend).
The march in Berkeley was more of a stroll around a few city blocks. Traffic flowed freely as everyone fit on the sidewalks. At one point a transgendered UU minister intern gave an impassioned speech, but the crowd was dispersing quickly so we decided it was time to take our leave.

We then took BART over to San Francisco, to catch the GreenFestival, Rusty of course had free tickets. As we exited the BART, thousands of people were marching down market blocking traffic and providing photo taking opportunities for tourists in Alcatraz T-shirts. The scene was peaceful, and the mood was surprisingly jubilant. If there is one thing that Proposition 8 has done for the gay community, it is coalesce the community around an issue. Unfortunately, the rally needs to be held outside of the bay area. Media event aside, holding a rally in San Francisco is certainly a case of preaching to the choir. None-the-less, a great event to stumble upon. We walked to the GreenFestival. The festival was huge and hosted hundreds of informational booths and vendors.
After this exhausting day, we went to my friend Kirsten's 40th Birthday party and talked politics with a bunch of straight 'dudes' none of whom even questioned whether a Yes on Prop. 8 vote violates constitutional rights.  So basically, a typical Saturday in the Bay Area includes participating in two protest marches (one with my openly gay superintendent and his partner), utilizing public transportation, browsing literature about green businesses printed with soy ink on 80% post consumer recycled paper pamphlets, and talking liberal politics with straight men in a blue state.  What a special place the bay area can be at times.  No wonder this place is known as the largest bastion of liberal wickedness in all the US.