I'm a lasagna boy!

Return to Pirate Cove

... sounds like a Hardy Boys mystery title, doesn't it? For Anna's birthday hike, we went over to Muir Beach and met a good group of hardy walkers. Up the hill and over the ridge we traipsed; on the beach we walked; and up a rock for a little picnic overlooking the quiet surf of Pirate's Cove.

Afterwards we came back home and had some cake and tart. With rhubarb sorbet! Happy Birthday Anna!!!

Manuscripts never burn.

Unlike Jorge at the spetacular conclusion of Eco's "The Name of the Rose," the crazed idealist at the end of Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita declares that "Manuscripts don't burn."

Saw the A.C.T. production of ditto; the staging was magnificent, and the themes of the novel resonated clearly. A little on the long side (3+ hours, with intermission -- coffee! mints!), the play was quite liberal in its interpretation of Bulgakov's witch- and satanic imagery. I didn't notice the sign reading: "Caution: This play contains adult content. Nudity." until leaving the theatre.

Filet of soul.

Dave Blood committed suicide yesterday.

Punk rock is what we make it.

We've got questions / in our school!

This afternoon I took off from work and headed up to Jender's high-school classroom. She had asked me and Aram to speak with one of her classes, to talk about our jobs and careers. She student-teaches at a charter school which has since become a part of the San Francisco Unified School District.

As you know, I am currently student teaching as I make my way toward a teaching credential slated to be in hand come June . As part of that process this semester I am solo teaching for 8 weeks. Right now I am at the International Studies Academy High school in San Francisco in Potrero Hill teaching Advanced ELL (English Language Learner) classes. Most of my students are 17 to 19 and have been in the US for 2 to 5 years.   My eight week unit this semester is about work, why we work, the jobs we do and how we navigate work in our lives. Since many of these students are new to the world of work in the US and they will be soon trying to determine their future careers, one of their unit projects is interviewing someone about their job and creating a paper from that interview. These students need lots of practice before actually leaving the classroom and doing activities on their own. I want them to interview a person in class as I class before they venture out into the cruel world. That is where you come in. I need two brave volunteers to come into my class and be interviewed by my students. Don't worry, these students are more intimidated by you then you could ever be of them and I will supply you with a list of possible questions before hand.  I, personally, think all of your jobs are interesting and believe that my students would enjoy talking to you

Many years had passed since I last walked in the halls of a high school: it was nice to hear Aram's familiar voice echoing against the tile when I walked in.

The English-as-a-Second-Language (ESL) class asked me lots of questions. They were practicing for their current assignment: interviewing someone with a job, and writing an essay on that person's background, daily routine, challenges, and rewards.
The very first question I heard, right after I wrote my name on the board, was, "Are you Indian?" A few more questions on the subject of race: "Do people at your job ever make fun of you because of your ethnicity?"

The questions made me reflect on how much I do like my job, and also offered a different perspective on what I do. I work in a for-profit industry, so our projects are concerned directly with the bottom line and with making money over the long term.

Parkin' in the 'hood.

The SF Neighborhood Parks project now uses Park Scan technology:

ParkScan volunteer observers visit their parks on a regular basis (at least once per month). Using handheld computers loaded with an aerial image of their park, along with routes to follow, they observe park features and rate their condition. In addition, the volunteers use digital cameras to photograph park conditions they observe, both good and bad. Survey results and photos are sent to a central database at the Neighborhood Parks Council. Dangerous conditions noted in the survey are immediately forwarded to the responsible Managing Agency (most often the Recreation and Park Department) for attention. Other unsatisfactory conditions are returned to the observers to have the importance of each condition prioritized. The entire survey is then forwarded to the Managing Agency. Survey results are available to the public on the ParkScan website ...

I noticed this information posted on a new signboard in Duboce Park, which frequently smells like hot dog shit. On days like today, more humid than most, it smells like steaming poop. If anyone ever claims that San Francisco is "European", point them at the Parisian piles of poop in the parks.

Point out the massive homeless encampments in the Panhandle and Golden Gate Park; or the irritating and massive feral cat population throughout the western end of the city.

106 beets, that.

I spilled beet juice all over today's newspaper. Or, more precisely, I had cut and marinated beets to use in a salad, and wrapped the faulty Tupperware container in the morning newspaper. The front-page obituary was marked with beet juice, and a corner of my commuter Timbuk bears a deep maroon stain.

It's just down the freeway.

"Every place in L.A. is twenty minutes!", or, as Duane Delacourt (once Carter's Secretary of Symbolism) put it, "It's just down the freeway." This is California: beautiful, but congested with cars.

While driving (!!) through a pleasant suburban town's main street, I saw plenty of attractive sidewalk cafés, broad pedestrian passages, but all faced with cars, parked and moving. The café tables looked at parking meters and busy streets; pedestrians must needs wait upon cars.

Although the Doonesbury archive no longer provides a free search, alas, I can recount the strip following Duane's relocation to La-la-land. He and his wife are sitting on the deck, about to dip into the ubiquitous Jacuzzi, when he says, "I'm going to the store for some chips and guacamole." "O.k." "I should be back in 3 days." "What?" "It's just down the freeway." This coloured my initial impressions of California; this strip, and the early memories of watching a dragon dance in Chinatown, of riding a cable car (must have been the Hyde St. line, as I remember one particular broad curve).

Cultural differences: ask a Catalonian how the distance from Reus to Barcelona, he'll say "80 km"; ask a San Franciscan the distance from the Mission to the airport, and he'll answer "25 minutes ... depending on traffic conditions."

Here's Johnny.

After many, many years, I finally watched the Stanley Kubrick adapation of Stephen King's novel The Shining.

The book that Jack was writing contained the one sentence ("All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy") repeated over and over. Kubrick had each page individually typed. For the Italian version of the film, Kubrick used the phrase "Il mattino ha l' oro in bocca" ("He who wakes up early meets a golden day"). For the German version, it was "Was Du heute kannst besorgen, das verschiebe nicht auf Morgen" ("Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today") For the Spanish version, it was "No por mucho madrugar amanece más temprano" ("Although one will rise early, it won't dawn sooner.")