chase the light

On the way up to the San Juan Islands I stayed a day in Seattle. I wanted to see the Mark Ryden exhibit Wondertoonel [LINK] at the Frye Museum before meeting up with my sister. Since I’ve spent so little time actually in Seattle I went touristing around. Of course if there’s something Led Zeppelin related I’ll go see it. Which in this case is the infamous Edgewater Inn where the “shark incident” occurred. At the time you could fish off the balconies of the hotel… well you’ll see [LINK]. These days if that sort of thing went on all kinds of lawsuits would be flying. The Beatles also stayed at the hotel on their 1964 tour and there’s a famous picture of them fishing out the window [LINK].

After years of not going to Macworld, I think the last one was in 98 or something, I hit the Moscone Center to check out the new goodies. In a way I was disappointed because there was nothing new released that was really geared towards me. The new Mac mini and the iShuffle, which is really uninteresting if you already own an iPod. I did like the display they had them on as everyone could walk up and try it out. That is if you want to put earphones in your ears that thousands of strangers have done before you. Yuck. It was hard to even get near a Mac mini. They’re small. I went down to the wharf afterwards and had dinner, watched the sunset and the seals bark and play.

In 1995, in a classroom I was teaching in, I found this postcard late one night. It was in the tray of the chalk board in front of the class. It had actually been there a few days getting moved around. It first caught my eye only because it was a painting from my favorite classical painter William Bouguereau. “The Abduction of Psyche” from 1895. The painting was now a 100 years old. The classes had left awhile ago so it had obviously been left behind. I flipped it over to find a love note from a girl. There was no one in any of the classes that I knew of named either Josh or Naomi. So I’m not sure how it ever decided to land in my hands but I’ve kept it this whole time. I was cleaning out a closet and opened the box that it was in and read it again. I’m not sure how old she was when she wrote it, she could have been a teenager, she could have been in her thirties. All I know is she is 10 years older than she was and I hope she hasn’t changed.

All together now… Awwwww….

“This is a vision of us. What do you think of my dream come true? Isn’t it a little blue? You know what I mean, I hope. Here is that thing I wrote. Hope you enjoy the postcard. I’ve been saving it for someone really special for about a year now and I guess you came my way.

Eternally, Naomi

P.S. I’ll give you the story of Psyche and Cupid sometime.

I’ve been going crazy for almost 6 1/2 minutes and I think the flowers on my pretty dress are falling off too slowly for anyone else but but me to see, but you were pretending oh so well when you said, “why are you crying girl?” and, “sit on my lap, ooh brr, it’s so cold so why don’t you take off your dress little girl?”, but I laughed and said “only the flowers, I’ll take off only the flowers.”
Naomi – November 24, 1995

After years of trying to find someone to take me to New York, so they could show me around, I finally caved. I’m now going. Last time I was in New York was 1977. The summer of the New York City blackout, Son of Sam, the Apple II was released, Star Wars came out, Elvis died, and Studio 54 was in full swing. I thought I would try to finance the trip in a way that steers clear of my bank account. So as I cleaning the house I was thinking of ideas of how to do this when I came across the infamous “penny jar”. Hmmm… I’d been throwing quarters, dimes, and nickles in there too. I certainly didn’t want to count it all and put them into rolls. I remembered the Coin Star machine at the grocery store that does all that and takes a small cut. So I packed up pennies, put them in the cart, wheeled them through the store and started dumping into the machine. Ching, ching, ching, ching… it took forever and I refused to look at the total until I finished. As the last coin dropped through, a total of 4106 pennies, 818 nickles, 1146 dimes, and 329 quarters. Total cash amount $279.31! Minus the processing fee, 254.45! Ok, so straight to the bank and then online to book a ticket. No one can beat Jet Blue to New York so I type in Long Beach to New York. $255.20. Roundtrip ticket to New York? .75 cents. Priceless.

Oh Neko. Oh lovely, lovely Neko. Oh wait I said that Thursday. I’m repeating myself in my haze of Neko. So I pulled a major blunder as I stopped by the El Rey late in the afternoon to check when the box office was opening. I pull up on my bike (how green of me) and the box office was closed but the front door of the theater was open and some dude was standing out by the curb chatting with someone. I politely interupt them to see if they know what time the box office and the doors open. He kinda chuckles and and said “Doors at 8, Show at 9. Come by we’ll play a few songs for you.” Not making the connection AT ALL. I actually thought his remark was kinda weird. Of course when I finally come back for the show, guess who jumps up on stage first. Dexter Romweber, yep the guy out front. Damn. Stupid me, had I not missed him at the San Francisco show I would have totally known who he was and not been a fool. He’s only been slugging it out since the 80’s with the Flat Duo Jets. He was great though in a Elvis, Eddie Cochran on a distorted 11. Dexter’s drummer didn’t use a hi-hat, he just pounded the drums and cymbals a lot. The Sadies came next and are a garage-punk meets western-movie soundtrack, bluegrass rave-ups en psychedelische campfire ballads. I bought a CD after the show since I really liked them. Very polite with their preacher suits and ties and “Thank you ladies and gentlemen” after each song. Then it dawned on me what Neko had done. Brilliant. Have your backing band open for you so that they get warmed up and get all the kinks out before you have to show up on stage. A free soundcheck before an audience. Neko was good once again, but much more low key. Hardly any audience banter and very few technical problems except for those long tuning pauses between songs. Setlist: Favorite, If You Knew, Souful Shade of Blue, Outro with Bees, Blacklisted, The Tigers Have Spoken, Maybe Sparrow, New Song, Rated X, Hex, New Song, Furnace Room Lullaby, John the Baptist, Lucky Eye w/Dexter Romweber, Make Your Bed, Train From Kansas City, Benny Hill Theme, Loretta.

Since I’m not going to be around much of the holidays I’m opting out of the tree thing this year. But, I did get the whole experience of getting sap on my hands and needles in my pants by riding shotgun on the tree hunt with Jill.

Oh Neko. Oh lovely, lovely Neko. She’s back with a west coast tour with a whole band this time. Although there were some minor technical problems, i.e. broken strings, a couple false starts on songs, a tambourine that she had to run upstairs to retrieve, occasional flat singing, long guitar tunings between songs, etc. it’s always great to hear her fire up the vocals. She was a little loud in the mix compared to the band but she’s swimming in reverb anyway so it’s all good. Keith and Shelli came by for dinner in North Beach and watched the show for a bit but after a big pasta dinner they were yawning non-stop. It was a school night for them anyway, but not for me. As she came out she said, “be careful with me because I’m a blood pinata”, referring to her current menstrual status. One of many things that flung out of her mouth tonight. She opened with Favorite and closed with Loretta. The band played the Benny Hill theme a few times while Neko tuned or ran upstairs to fetch her tambourine. All the new material sounded great and she almost played the new album in its entirety. Setlist included: If You Knew, Soulful Shade of Blue, Hex, Train From Kansas City, The Tigers Have Spoken, Maybe Sparrow, Blacklisted, Favorite, Rated X, Outro With Bees, Make Your Bed, Furnace Room Lullaby, Loretta, a couple of new numbers and John the Baptist. Next up, the Los Angeles show at the El Rey Saturday night. I need an intervention. Wait, no I don’t.

I was a bored this afternoon so I went to Alcatraz and shot one photo. It’s called “Blow Your Horn Mark”. Thank you. Goodnight.

The tragic heroine of San Francisco’s most famous love story, was born and raised on the Presidio. In 1806, when Concepcion Arguello was 15 years old, a seasoned Russian diplomat, Nikolai Rezanof, arrived in San Francisco Bay seeking aid for the starving Russian colony in Sitka, Alaska. As comandante of the Presidio, Concepcion’s father entertained him with the best Hispanic hospitality, despite well-justified suspicions of Russian intentions. Completely green in the ways of the politic world, Concepcion fell in love with the Russian, who in turn proposed marriage. Before sailing through the Golden Gate with his hard-won supplies, he reminded her that since he was Russian Orthodox and she a Roman Catholic, he would have to get permission from both the czar and the pope. The journey, he noted would take years, but Concepcion said she would wait.

Rezanof never returned. In time, Concepcion retired to a Domincan convent, disavowing all connection to the outside world, and burying her her sorrow beneath decades of silence and daily ritual. Then one day came bittersweet news: her fiance had not abandoned her. He had frozen to death in the snows of Siberia some 40 years before, enroute to petition the czar. Concepcion died in 1857 and is buried in Saint Dominic’s Cemetery in Benicia. Her gravestone, carved with the name Sister Mary Dominica is at the end of the second row. A larger monument for her stands besides it.

I really love this story, and there’s even a great poem about it from Bret Harte, but come on 40 years?! I think I would have moved on by then.

Um, don’t forget your gloves when you go to Yosemite in the winter. It won’t matter if you’re completely prepared on all other fronts. In fact naked with nothing but gloves and boots on might be more bearable. Anyway, an early freeze hit most of Northern California this week and everything iced over leaving ice waterfalls and leaves stuck below the lake ice like the bodies in those bad horror movies. Bridel Veil falls had all this ice on it and occasionally huge chunks would come crashing down and you could hear it echo through the valley. That gets a bitchin’ thumbs up. Last time I was in Yosemite it was a 107 degrees and miserable. People actually burst into flames that time. I swear. I saw it with my own eyes. What started as a 1.5 mile hike up to Mirror Lake turned into a 6-7 mile hike as I took the wrong path on the way back and ended up in Katmandu. I swear. There were sherpas and everything. Eventually I got back to the car and could only get to Santa Nella before I got tired. Besides, the Motel 6 in Santa Nella is only $39.99 a night! Yee har. That includes a window view of Highway 5 from only about, say, 100 feet or so. There’s something very relaxing about the white (frightliner) noise generated by a steady stream of 18 wheelers barreling down the highway. They really could charge more for those rooms. I could barely hear The Apprentice on TV.

City Souffle. The ingredients: A Saturday night jam with fellow insurgents Keith and Shelli in Oakland. A Sunday viewing of Polar Express in IMAX 3D with friends from all corners of my life at the Metreon. And an “on a whim” stay at a hotel Sunday night in North Beach. Occasionally while travelling you come across a little gem of a hotel or site to see and you’re reluctant to share as the secret will get out. Pssst… The Hotel San Remo [LINK] has a little bungalow, um er, penthouse suite [LINK], on top of the main hotel and overlooks the north of North Beach. And you can stay there! At night you can hear the faint sounds of the city such as the dinging of the bells on the cable cars, the white noise of traffic, the barking of seals all the way down at Pier 39. Yet, oddly it’s all very far away sounding and not enough to disturb your rooftop hideaway. The room comes with it’s own copper fitted bathroom, claw-footed bathtub, TV, a deck with lots of lounges and chairs for guests, views of Coit Tower and kinda of the Golden Gate Bridge, and NO telephone. Since the main hotel is more like a European Pension all of these are actually luxuries. It’s location is walking distance to North Beach, one street away from the end of the Powell-Mason cable car line and a block from Bimbo’s 365. It’s pretty easy to book during the week, but book the weekend far far in advance. Nice place to wake up this morning. Ok, there’s the traveller tip of the day. Have a look…

A month in Australia and boy am I bushed. Get it? No? Damn. 1200 photos, one dead bird, 15 bites of various kinds, a tiger snake encounter, a diviner, waterfalls, and a very confused Vespa scooter now named Shemale. Melbourne still to come. It’s done.

“My dad never referred to it as a Gibson guitar or Fender guitar… it was always that goddamn guitar.” – Bruce Springsteen

A parents worst nightmare is when their kid asks for a guitar. Most kids growing up in the 60’s and 70’s usually wanted one of two guitars, a Gibson Les Paul, or a Fender Stratocaster. I, of course, always wanted a Les Paul because Jimmy Page played one, but I also wanted a Telecaster because Springsteen played one. I now own one of each. Last week fellow “Polar Express” and “Dinosaur” surviver Bau asked if I’d be interested in a tour of the Fender guitar factory in Corona. Hell yeah! He won the tour while visiting the Fender Museum. So, today, we headed out to beautiful Corona and met Steve Grom, who is VP Corporate Quality Assurance, and got to see the manufacturing process and the Fender Custom Shop. It was pretty damn cool.

Choose whаt tуре оf guіtаr you wаnt
Decide if уоu want аn асоuѕtіс оr еlесtrіс guitar. Acoustics аrе grеаt tо learn on. No fancy bells аnd whіѕtlеѕ. And іf уоu’rе gоіng tо hаvе lеѕѕоnѕ, you’ll fосuѕ on how tо sound аѕ сlеаr аnd рrесіѕе as possible whеn уоu рlау. Yоu саn аlѕо сhооѕе bеtwееn a сlаѕѕіс nуlоn-ѕtrіngеd асоuѕtіс which іѕ ԛuіеtеr and lеѕѕ dеmаndіng to рlау, or a ѕtееl-ѕtrіngеd асоuѕtіс that’s lоudеr but tougher on beginner’s fіngеrѕ.

Many brіllіаnt and fаmоuѕ guitarists ѕtаrtеd wіth an еlесtrіс, simply bесаuѕе іt was what thеу were іntеrеѕtеd іn. There’s mоrе vаrіеtу іn sound, looks аnd рlауіng ѕtуlеѕ. But аgаіn, like steel-stringed асоuѕtісѕ, thеу mау be рunіѕhіng on un-саlluѕеd fіngеrѕ.

Thеrе іѕ nо right оr wrong wау tо start hеrе. Lооk аt guіtаrіѕtѕ from thе gеnrе оf muѕіс уоu wаnt tо рlау tо gеt аn іdеа оf whаt guitars thеу uѕе. Just make sure to use a guitar center coupon when buying it, this way you’ll get a good discount!

It’s a wrap! Ha! See what I did there? It’s a wrap, like gifts or presents at Christmas… and the movie wrapped? Anyone, hello? This stuff isn’t easy, ya know. As of half an hour ago, Saturday October 2nd, 10:30pm, I put my last shot on The Polar Express [LINK] to film. Done. A few 13 hour days this week and I’m officially sick of Christmas for the next few years. I think I’ll sit them out. Only 38 days away from opening in IMAX 3D [LINK] in true stereoscopic or your regular boring theaters. This game is annoyingly hard…

Took the new toy [LINK] out for a spin at the Abbot Kinney Street Festival. After walking the couple miles up and down Abbott Kinney Blvd., that festival sucks. There was nothing even close to worth buying. I did see a girl from one of the classes I helped teach at Silicon Graphics selling hula hoops. Another success story! She was nicknamed “Psycho (insert name)” because she was a little, um, different. From what I can tell, she’s been working on her tan and her body. Well hello there…

About a year ago Imageworks moved a handful of artists out to a new building behind the main one. Dubbed “The Cornfield”, as the artists felt they were being sent to the cornfield [LINK]. On the bright side they have a patio and tree lined area where they can have a bar-b-cue and enjoy the outdoors. Ya know, kinda like a cornfield.

13th Annual Inkslingers Ball [LINK] Funny thing. I don’t really like a tattoos. I do not like them on people, I do not like them on steeples, Sam I am. I do like the whole culture behind it though. I think it’s fascinating. They start to look ugly on skin after a few years, but I still like the art of it all. This is all a ruse really and I’m not getting one because I’m a pussy. At least a piercing is a one time thing. The thought of a tattoo needle going in and out for a couple hours makes me cringe. Again, because I’m a pussy.

Every year there’s the family party down at Dana Point Harbor. Coinciding with me getting older and the end of summer. For years there was never any kids at these things. Now it’s come full circle and the next generation of kids are attending. I’m not sure I like kids all that much, they’re so dang noisy. Smoke + Trees + Sun = Cool photo.