Sunday, March 30, 2003
This area is known for
This area is known for grey foggy days where a wet wind whips ocean-cold against your raw bones, and you shudder in your pantlegs against every frigid blast. Then there are days like this one, warm and clear and chamber-of-commerce perfect - days on which the antisocial nihilist in me derides the joy I feel when the hillsides erupt in wildflowers and the sky is deep and cobalt blue. At times like these I look for ways that my whole life might take on a similar upswing. And things have been good.
We got a “last-best-final” offer from management, so the decision goes to the bargaining unit membership - it’s finally out of my hands. What’s even better, the offer wasn’t totally insulting and I got a nice free lunch out of it.
I got to visit happy hour for sixty precious minutes last friday and was paid the most profound compliment I’ve ever received: Last week Hillary told me that she’d had to stop reading this site while in class over the wireless network in her school’s lecture halls - she’d read something that made her - well, chuckle, and someone else chuckled too, and as a result, almost gained some unwanted attention, and therefore, no more Chucklehut. I actually wrote in my notebook on the way home that night, “Highest compliment: H can’t read in class.” (It may help, in this case, for me to clarify that I have the utmost respect for Hillary’s intellectual capacities. I’m not going to get into the total package here because this would become gushing and sycophantic, but among her innumerable other sterling and superlative qualities, she’s drop-dead brilliant.) So anyway. I see Hillary at the patio and thank her for a comment she’d left a day or so ago. She recounts, matter-of-fact, ‘yeah, that was in Con law....” It’s childish, and worse now that I’m broadcasting it here, but that really made my day.
However, that was not all. I also had *two* excellent comebacks over the course of the day:
(In bargaining session, with senior union representative:)
Susan: We’re looking for people who can count to eleven without taking off their shoes.
Dan: You mean you’re looking to hire the deformed.
(Meeting a very nice person for the first time:)
Lisa: They say we are most attracted to those who are most like us.
Dan: I supposed that’s why I love myself so very much.
Then I had another deeply satisfying dinner at our favorite place, which I was wondering whether even to link here because they’re getting a big too busy for my liking, but while we were waiting at the bar the owner came up and introduced himself and we were able to speak about having bought art off his walls, some of his menu changes, and the guy who did all the metalwork and metal art they have up, whose name we already knew since we’re interested in some of his work ourselves. He comped us our beers. I’m plugging his place even if I’m inconvenienced by it.
On the way home I stopped off at ToyBoat to get an egg cream, which I love dearly, and at the checkout line I saw a display of flat taffy from Country Store Candy, Austin, Texas; it was red with a thick white stripe down the middle and I bought it and ate it right away. So thrilling again to be peeling off that waxed paper, snapping off a hunk and letting it shatter and then dissolve in my mouth, sealing my jaws shut for a moment or two before it disappeared.... The label described it as “Old Fashion” taffy. No “-ed.” This made it seem a bit less nostalgic and more backwards. “Yes, I’ve seen the new fashion - if you can call it that. I really don’t think I’ll be espousing it. I’ll stick with the old fashion. Some things are not subject to change.”
Then Saturday - we got up early and went to the gym, which for me is about 1/4 mile from the east end of Chrissie Field. I’m driving over in my cross-trainers and tshirt and shorts on a stunningly beautiful day; as we approached the facility a big blue heron cruised right in front of us, he must have been five feet long from beak to tail, wild in my face. I got to the gym and stretched out, took a look at the treadmills and went back outside to run along the bayfront amidst the restored wetlands. As I re-approached the gym after running for about 20 minutes it occurred to me that it isn’t really accurate to say I’m working out when I’m going in. I’m working, yes, but in, not out. Out is an entirely different ball game. And “working in” has a somewhat different connotation. But it seems more precise, and maybe a bit more fun. God knows anything would help.
As I’m waiting for Kel after my workin, I see a big truck painted with the words: “Royal Laundry, Division of American Etc. Inc.” It seemed to me that someone gave up too quickly. I suppose the inherent weakness of the Royal circumstances in America would contribute to a sense of helplessness and, perhaps, to a tendency to throw in the towel. But really - “American Etc.”? I’d like to see their mission statement: “To have a mission statement.” Although I guess it’s better than “American Etc. ‘n’ Stuff.”
After the gym, we got to walk the dog in Golden Gate Park, which is always a treat. We got to see the old Acid Drop area near the Polo Fields where Kel’s sister took a header and wound up with a little retrograde amnesia for a while, and in general the park is looking incredible, everything in blossom or bright with new growth.
Then we grabbed a bit of lunch and went out to the Asian Art Museum, which just opened last week in the building that used to house the old library. It’s a strange marriage of sensibilities; there are still a lot of big plaques and carvings everywhere about reading and silence. The overall effect is, “keep quiet, you’re upsetting the art.” There are big spaces where nothing is installed yet; I’m hoping that they fill them in soon. But the gallery space was plentiful and harmoniously arranged. Conclusion: I’m not crazy about the architecture but the art is displayed nicely.
On the way home we strolled up Polk Gulch all the way to Pine Street, where Shalimar has opened another branch - I got some fresh onion kulcha - and then back home where I grilled the perfect pork cutlets and Kel did that thing with onions, peppers and cumin that works so well over cornbread; we experienced palpable satisfaction and then retired to the entertainment lounge for three episodes of the Tick - Pineapple Pokopo, Arthur’s bank account, and the Mole Men. Random noteworthy lines which I can still read in my notebook include:
“Let’s hang ten for justice!”
“Join me in my soily realm!”
“Thumbs up for evil!”
“A terrified City cringes in its collective pajamas.”
“Villians - I say to you: cut out all that evil!”
“Joseph Stalin - grab onto my armored muu-muu - together we will leave this earth behind!”
“I don’t think that puppet’s going to give us any more trouble.”
“You can’t fight evil with a macaroni duck!”
“Get meta with me!”
and finally, my personal favorite for the evening:
“Evildoers - Eat my justice!”
Finally, today, we get in a great bike ride down to Kirby Cove (and the first time I’ve ridden past where I fell and broke my wrist), and can take a quiet day of recuperation, reconstruction and regeneration. (Laundry.) Tomorrow I have a pile of work to do but it’s officially a holiday so it’ll be quiet and I’ll be able to get a lot done.
I had some other stuff to put up that was more interesting but instead I blew a bunch of time on hunting down linques. Ah well. Our glorious and inevitable victory is surely at hand. That will have to do for now.