Category: Current Events

Love and Hate

Love my Planet SOMA family. No less than five people pointed me to this article in Salon today, knowing that it would be right up my alley given its familiar theme.

I’m finally ‘fessing up about Road Trip 99 now. Firstly, it’s been downgraded to Plane Trip 99 and will pretty much involve nothing much but North Carolina. Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor the money to spend my customary three or four weeks on the road this year. So off I go on TWA, to spend some quality time with Mom and Dad on their 50th anniversary.

But that’s not for a couple of weeks.

For now, I’m just excited that it rained last night. It’s almost November. The rainy season is almost here. My mood should improve considerably. Yes, I’m a freak. Yes, I’ve considered moving to Seattle because of the rain rather than in spite of it. Yes, sunshine depresses me as a rule.

Things I love this week:

  • “All in the Family” marathon on Nick-at-Nite.
  • Stouffer’s Macaroni and Beef with Tomatoes (on sale at Safeway).
  • The parking space I got last night at 7th and Bryant, right across from the police station.

Things I hate this week:

  • Perpetual construction.
  • Those stupid commercials for SF Propositions I and J, with the over-acting ambulance drivers and the insipid screaming woman.
  • The idiots in the building next door.

Prejudice

I’ve been accused of prejudice against people who make more money than I do. Nothing could be father from the truth. Some of my best friends make more money than I do. Come to think of it, I even used to make more money than I do.

This accustation hurts me. Deeply. I’ve been crying for more than an hour. How could someone question my support for the affluent, possibly one of the most tortured and exploited minorities in America? I’ve long been a vocal supporter of Willie Brown’s program of affirmative action for San Francisco’s underprivileged rich people.

Indeed, I think San Francisco would be a much better place if we threw out all those marginal types and turned the city into wall-to-wall live-work lofts, Starbucks, and banks. Imagine how the quality of life would improve! No more noisy nightclubs South of Market or unattractive bargain bazaars on Mission Street. We’d finally be rid of those pesky artists and musicians.

Poor people are so unappealing. They’re somehow un-American, with all this talk of respecting their neighborhoods and preserving diversity. If all those unsavory characters in the Mission or the Tenderloin would just create more Internet start-ups, them they’d deserve to stay in their neighborhoods. If those damned artists would start generating capital, they’d no doubt be far superior human beings.

Frankly, individuality and creativity are over-rated, nor all that profitable. They should therefore be abolished, or banished to far-flung suburbs. So should working class families and anyone else who can’t make the cut. Nothing is quite so important as making sure that distressed and oppressed wealthy people have fashionable places to live and shop.

Above all, we must remember that the pursuit of large sums of money supercedes such trivial matters as treating existing residents and communities with respect. Who says that people who spend years living in (and contributing to) a community have more rights than someone with half a million to spend on a studio apartment?

After all, money is the most important thing in the world, right?

Quake and Quiver

This was just plain creepy. At about 6:00, I walked up to the corner store to get a pack of cigarettes. The owner was watching the news about the earthquake in Turkey. We commented on how awful it was, and as I walked out, I just happened to utter the following words:

“We’re gonna have another one here before you know it.”

About ten seconds later, we did. The owner ran out of the store to tell me. It was a small one. I didn’t even feel it. But things were shaking and quivering inside the store. As I walked home, I noticed some neighbors talking about it on the sidewalk. I turned on the news. Channel 4 was already into its predicatble hype mode.

I predicted an earthquake with precision accuracy. And I didn’t even know I was doing it at the time. Much better than last time.

Things I love today:

  • Safeway Select Grapefruit Soda
  • The Safeway at 7th Avenue and Cabrillo
  • The fact that, after tonight, I will finally have every episode of “The Streets of San Francisco” on tape, including the one filmed near the aforementioned Safeway.

Things which suck more than usual today (which means they suck a whole lot):

  • Microsoft
  • Microsoft Internet Explorer
  • Microsoft Active-X

23 July 1999

Tom Ammiano for Mayor. He can be a little annoying. I have my doubts that he can win. But he’s the only one of the bunch I can bring myself to vote for, and it now seems pretty likely that he’ll be on the ballot. Seems my decision has been made.

So now it’s back to the normal everyday grind of life without a houseguest. I feel like I was a pretty lackluster host, just because I was so busy with so much other stuff while Scott was here. He got to see all the hot spots: Target in San Bruno, Denny’s on Mission, Burger King in Marin, and even my laundromat. Twice. I really know how to show someone a good time…

Yesterday’s special treat was the occurrence of not one, but two bomb threats in the building where I do my part-time job. Interesting way to spend a morning: standing on a sidewalk in the Financial District watching all the harried yuppies clutching their cell phones for dear life rather than simply enjoying an unplanned break.

My favorite moment: a very adorable boy visting from another country (I’m guessing France) who asked me very politely and sweetly “how long do your bomb threats usually last?”

Dore Alley Fair down the street this weekend. I haven’t decided if I care. My supsicion is that I don’t…

JFK Jr. Deathwatch, Day One

With all due respect to the deceased, enough with the perpetual John F. Kennedy Jr. reports! Correct me if I’m wrong, but it was his FATHER who was head of state. JFK Jr. was a magazine editor and a president’s son. That about covers it. Granted, it’s more than most of us will ever accomplish, but it hardly seems to merit a four-day, 24-hour deathwatch, does it? Is there nothing else going on in the world this week?

Sorry if that sounds nasty, but I had to get it off my chest. It was the lead story on the ENTERTAINMENT report on CNN a few minutes ago, for Christ’s sake.

Anyway (for those who have not yet begun composing the hate mail), it’s been an insane week. And it’s only Tuesday. In addition to playing tourguide to my friend Scott, I’ve been pretty much working my butt off. For a little relaxation tonight, I did laundry and managed to leave behind both my favorite sweatshirt and my favorite flannel. I fear I shan’t see them again…

But at least I’ve been eating well. Scott brought Count Chocula. I love count Chocula. I think I’ve made that abundantly clear…

Coming soon:

  • Pictures from the new Denny’s on Mission Street, which is hands down the strangest one I’ve ever visited.
  • Exciting new links.
  • I may actually answer some email.

Independence Day

Independence Day random thoughts, nonsequiturs, etc.:

  1. Isn’t it wonderful that, if the House of Representatives has its way, the American flag will have more specific Constitutional protections than a majority of American citizens? Shouldn’t we consider giving the Equal Rights Amendment another shot before rendering a piece of cloth (or other synthetic material) more important than the freedoms it’s supposed to represent?
  2. How did I live here so long without recognizing that the outlying parts of town (the Outer Mission, Glen Park, Bayview, the Richmond, and the Sunset) are in many ways some of the most interesting parts of San Francisco, free as they are from the trendiness and pretentiousness of the sacred northeastern quarter? I’ve been spending more and more time “out there” in the past few months and it’s starting to grow on me. There’s a reality that downtown is sorely missing.
  3. Why would someone throw out perfectly good windows like the ones I found on Clement Street with Sarah this afternoon? They saw trash. I saw end tables which will soon flank the sofa I still don’t have.
  4. What is it about holiday weekends that makes even natives drive like complete idiots?
  5. Last, how many people know (or care) that the humble store on Irving Street pictured above was most likely the first Safeway store in San Francisco, way back in 1927? Even better, how many people will believe me (or care) when I say that there used to be Piggly Wiggly stores here in the 1930s?

Sleeping now, as the 5th of July is not necessarily a holiday for everyone…

8 June 1999

Extremely busy and hectic weekend. My apologies to anyone who’s waiting for me to answer email. Tomorrow, I promise…

Sunday’s “Stop the Hate” rally in the Mission was indeed the put-on I’d imagined. Mind you, it was a serious event and serious issues were discussed and publicized. Essentially, though, it was a brilliant piece of street theatre.

Duncan’s here, I’m playing tourguide, and I’ll have somthing more interesting to say soon. Maybe…

13 April 1999

So yesterday sucked, but I’m well-fed and relatively happy today. Amazing what a few quality moments in the frozen-food aisle at Costco can do.

Mmmmm…bulk shopping. Ten-packs of videotapes, mayonnaise in jars the size the size of some small cars, and mile-long frozen kielbasa. Boxed sets of Andy Griffith Show re-runs and Teletubbies adventures. All the second-rate Disney movies and books by Tom Brokaw. And, of course, the piece de resistance: the food counter with those “hot dog and a Coke for 69 cents” or whatever combos. What’s not to love?

Speaking of consumer frenzy, why is it that I always buy a bunch of three bananas at the store and always (without fail) end up eating one and eventually throwing away the other two?

Still speaking of consumer frenzy, they just mentioned both Kinko’s and Photoshop on “King of the Hill”. Whatever happened to the Megalomart?

And speaking of prime time cartoons, I’m sorry to hear that Wilma Flintstone is dead. I’m even sorrier that, if I’d said “Jean Vander Pyl is dead”, no one would know who I was talking about.

Still speaking of prime time cartoons, SF Mayor Willie Brown is doing his own show on cable TV. How much do you bet he won’t be asking himself many hard questions? And how much do you bet he’ll always be quite fashionably dressed?

And speaking of fashionable, what is this fixation that very faggot in America has with Abercrombie and Fitch all of a sudden? I found more links to THEIR web site than I did to the Advocate while researching the April Fool’s gag. It’s sort of become an instant cliche. I just don’t get it…

And yes, I’ll stop now, before I start another completely random free association…

9 April 1999

Hallelujah! McDonald’s has added sexual orientation to its non-dicrimination policy. Now queers have the right to cook really vile-tasting fast food for five bucks an hour. I’d imagine domestic partner benefits aren’t an issue. Does Master Ronald even OFFER benefits to his plantation workers? Maybe just to the overseers…

Maybe they need a visit from Michael Moore and crew. Yer humble host is most excited about his new show, The Awful Truth, which starts this weekend on Bravo. Michael Moore rules the universe as I currently see it. Among the planned excursions on the show: Michael drives a van full of sodomites through states which still have sodomy laws, videotaping the felonies they commit therein.

Beats hell out of another Friends re-run, huh?

In other breaking news, I’ve managed (thanks to Dan) to obtain something I’ve been wanting for a long time: an original Charles Chips cannister. For those of you who have no clue what a Charles Chip might be, this was a company which used to do weekly home delivery of potato chips. Yes, it sounds as strange to me as it does to you.

My aunt next door got Charles Chips delivered. Most of my other neighbors did too. I always felt a little inadequate as a child because we never had one of these cans in my house. Mom and Dad boughts Lay’s at Winn-Dixie instead.

But now I have one. My life is almost complete.

At the Track

Sure, the news today had stories about the fact that we now seem to be at war. There was also mention of the fact the Fred Phelps made his semi-annual visit to San Francisco on Friday (he’s done wonders for queers ever since we put him on the payroll as official spokesidiot for bigotry).

But today’s completely unnewsworthy story on horse racing at Golden Gate Fields was the one which caught my eye. You see, I grew up going to the horse races and I know what a wondrous thing it is.

About twice a year, my mom and dad and I (sometimes with my grandmother) would pack up the car bound for a little town called Charles Town, West Virginia and go to the races.

The trip was pretty similar each time. The first day, we’d drive up, check into our motel, hit that night’s races, and have a late snack at the diner downtown. On the second day, we’d drive to wherever there were races in the suburbs of Washington or Baltimore. My dad would watch the horses and my mom and I often hit a mall or whatever. Back to Charles Town that night for a repeat. On the third and final day, we’d either go to Washington (for culture) or one of the big theme parks in Virginia (for fun) and then home.

These were great trips. They weren’t really about gambling (although I did learn how to pick a winner). For me, and I suspect somewhat for my mom and dad as well, they were largely about people-watching. Some of the strangest characters in the world lurk about eastern race tracks: big fat drunk guys in plaid sportcoats, scary kids who looked like modern adaptations of Dickensian orphans, bored and damaged-looking mothers…

The food was great too: no frills pizza and hot dogs and hamburgers. There was lots of beer, too, but my mom and dad didn’t drink. The whole atmosphere was so incredibly seedy. I loved it. It prepared me for the pockmarked urban landscapes I love to this day. It was all about the working class (or maybe not even as well-to-do as that…)

Somehow, I can’t imagine that any track in the increasingly trendy and sanitized Bay Area could match up to Charles Town or Laurel or Timonium. No doubt, the uptight soccer moms of Marin County would be horrified at the idea of a child visiting such a place. It’s just too real for our sophisticated palates. I envision lattes and biscotti and sandwiches on focaccia.

But maybe I’m wrong. Anybody wanna check it out with me? Casino gambling bores me. Dog racing horrifies me. But I could be in the mood to hang out with the horses this week.