Tuesday Noon Siren

Kiddies! Now you can play the Tuesday Noon Siren home game.

Get your clicking fingers ready. The Tuesday Noon Siren is only minutes away.

In San Francisco, you can hear it in STEREO!

Just click here at 12:00.

TRAUMA is no Jack Kennedy

I'll leave the rather accurate review of NBC's Trauma, set in San Francisco, to the guys who get paid for it over at SF Gate. To sum up, it's a pretty city shown well as the backdrop for a formulaic show in an over-saturated genre.  Nothing new here, folks, except the scenery.  And to be honest, that's the only reason I tuned in in the first place.  Because unlike what must be millions of Americans who keep this genre afloat, I am not a fan of the Surgical Soap Operas.

I am a fan, however, of San Francisco views, and the series opened with two beautiful shots of the bridges -- first the snobby, touristy Golden Gate and then the REAL one, which became the (almost) center of what one might call a plot when a tanker exploded more near than on the Bay Bridge.

Big money went into effects and the cast, of course, has that uniformly attractive sheen.  But the plot lines are thin and the dialogue may be where the series will live up to its name.  It's painful.

In one particularly "original" scene, the obligatory loose cannon character, "Rabbit," takes his Fastback Whatever (it was a night shot, so whether it was more good-guy Mustang or bad-guy Charger will be determined by people who either have a better eye or who are willing to watch that episode again) on an airborne cruise of a San Francisco hill not only making a less-than-subtle reference to a scene in Bullit, but also asking his passenger (and his audience) to put two and two together as he recreates the famous scene.  "Have you seen Bullit?" he asks, just before the jump.

Our response to that question is a groan.  Whether we've seen the whole movie or not, we've seen that scene.  And calling it out is like saying "ooh, look at me, I'm going to recreate it for you!"  Like no one has done that before.  Yeah.  We get it.  In fact, our emotional response almost parallels the response of his passenger, which SHOULD be a good thing.  Maybe, finally, we'll relate to someone.  Then, after the car lands, she opens her mouth.

"Yeah, I saw Bullit.  I love Bullit.  I love Steve McQueen.  I got news for ya, buddy.  You ain't Steve McQueen."

And off we groan again.

"Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy: I knew Jack Kennedy; Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy."  

By the end of the episode, I had already written off the series.  It's not like there's a dearth of pretty pictures of San Francisco; one doesn't have to watch TRAUMA to see it.  In fact, it's prettier in The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill.  But when the promo for next week's episode came on, I knew I'd be a glutton for punishment and tune in again.  Not because some clever plot point caught my attention -- Good God, no! -- but because I'd seen the scene being shot along the Embarcadero in July.

So while the show backed into a second chance in my living room, I'm not sure that will be true in living rooms anywhere else across the country.  Sorry NBC, but this one may just be joining ER in the "great waiting room in the sky."

Censored!

This cracks me up.

I was looking for information on a certain highway flea market in Middle Tennessee which might come in handy for dumping a few things after the Great Storage Cleanout of Ought Nine when I came across a guide to "anything that has anything to do with antiques," including flea markets. Okey-doke. I'll bite.

Sure enough, the Highway 55 flea market was listed, but so were a number of others which I knew nothing about.  So, I scrolled through.

Among the listings, I found this:  The Swee*censored*er Fleas Unlimited Mall.

The Swee*censored*er Fleas Unlimited Mall?  What would the word possibly be?  Sweet-f*cker?  Nah.  You'd expect an uncensored "T" for that one.  So what ... oh wait.  A clue!

The *Censored* Mall is on Highway 68.  In -- what's this?  Swee*censored*er, Tennessee.

Swee*censored*er, Tennessee?  Oh my.

LOL.

Sweetwater.

They censored the *twat.*

Whew!  Thank you Antiques Guide.  I'd never have noticed that was in there.  Now, I'll never visit that filthy place again!

Oh wait.  I never did.

;)

AT&T Park

 Giants v. Cubs, September 26th
Final score: 6-2 Cubs

Cruise Ships Everywhere!

It's not every morning that you wake up to find a Libra class cruise ship lurking at the end of the street, peering through your windows as you make your morning coffee.  And yet, with the Norwegian Star docked at Pier 30/32, that's exactly what I woke to find this morning.

And it's not alone.

Inspired by the floating bow, I fired up my long-ignored car for a little tool down the Embarcadero.  Sure, I could have taken the metro (also pictured above), but once every couple of months you want to be sure that the expensive knick-knack in the garage still works; and since Critical Mass cyclists will take over the roads tomorrow and I'll be leaving town soon after that for an extended visit South, today seemed as good a time as any to give it a whirl.

So.

The Norwegian Star is moored at Pier 30/32, yes, and her sister ship, the Norwegian Pearl is moored just a little further up the bay.  What brings The Star here, I do not know, but The Pearl is finishing up a 5-day Pacific Coastal cruise en route to LA, where it will pick up passengers for a Panama Canal run on the 26th.  The Star will also depart LA on the 26th, en route to the Mexican Riviera. 

Further still down the bay, near Pier 39, is the Golden Princess, belonging to another cruise line altogether.  And it's not alone, either.  On the other side of town, near Pier 48, its sister ship, the Sea Princess, seems to be taking lifeboats out for a spin....

...  while spinning in its own right.

Presumably, these are sea trials marking the end of the ship's refurbishment in dry-dock on Pier 70 since mid-month.

Ah... back on the water again!

The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

I came to this post in a rather round-about way.   Tooling around the internet the other day I came across a video someone had made of the Death Star over San Francisco.  The video ends with shot of a couple of parrots in a tree near Coit Tower.  For some odd reason, this rang a bell with me.

Coit Tower is on Telegraph Hill, so I did a quick Google search for the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill.  As it happened, I hit on the exact title of a book, and a documentary filmed in the area in 2005.  As I found out more about the documentary, it became less remarkable that I'd pulled the title from thin air.  I'd seen it, long before I ever expected to visit -- much less live in -- San Francisco. 

In the documentary, a man named Mark Bittner became enamored of the flock of wild birds on Telegraph Hill and took to spending time with them, naming and feeding them.  He spent 6 years with the birds, until life intervened.  You can find out more about Mark and the parrots online and at your local bookstore.  But I wanted to see the parrots for myself, and as luck would have it, the trip would be a double win, as I had also wanted to climb the Filbert Steps, which are not only in the heart of Telegraph Hill, but which also lead directly to Coit Tower.

First let me say that the Filbert Step are daunting.  Filbert Street transitions from a normal, everyday hilly San Francisco roadway to one of the steepest navigable streets in the Western Hemisphere (31.5% grade) consisting of roughly 400 steps (Yelpers disagree on an exact number, but a happy medium of 384 has been reported by a runner who claims to keep focused on the "burn" by counting them.  If she can run those steps, I'm taking her word for the number).

Before you ever see a parrot, you hear them.  On my trek up to Coit Tower and back down, I found that where you are most likely to see them as well as hear them is somewhere around the middle of the steps.  And it was there that I stopped and tried to capture a few snapshots.  It's amazing how those buggars can disappear in a tree of leaves roughly the same color as their plumes.  When they take flight, there are roughly 200 of the birds in the air, but when they enter the garden trees along the residential street, they all but disappear.  Some runners (Yelpers who failed to diligently count the steps) say that they've yet to see one.

Top left side * Click to enlarge

Such was not my problem.  I probably could have reached out and touched one -- or fed him if that was still allowed (it's not) -- but for hours of playing Where's Waldo with my snaps, I'm still not sure I ever caught that particular bird on film.  (Or on dig'.  Whatever the kids are calling it these days.) I did however, catch a snap of a few parrots sitting on the telephone wire, with the sun behind them.

 As I stood at the midway point of the steps, hoping for a better shot to come my way before I headed back down, a couple of gentlemen rose the steps, discussing the very thing which held our interest. The Wild Parrots of... well, hear for yourself. (60 seconds)

It seems that the parrots are laughing and taunting the fellows.  "Not the spot?  Of course we're here!  RIGHT here!"  As the fellows move on, you can hear their feet on the wooden steps.

So Star Wars wasn't the right movie to trigger this venture; but if the Death Star isn't hovering over San Francisco, The Birds definitely are. Cue Hitchcock theme.

Glass, Light, and Fog

As the sun set over SOMA last night, the glass windows of One Rincon Hill provided an interesting light show through the minimal fog, which had yet to fully roll in.

 

You don't see that every day.

Opera at the Ballpark

On Saturday, more than 25,000 fans took to the stands and field to enjoy a free, live simulcast of The San Francisco Opera performance of Verdi’s “Il Trovatore” on the 103-foot-wide HDTV screen at AT&T Park.

It was an amazing thing to see opera -- for free -- in a baseball park.  Even more amazing was sharing the park with 25,000 others who (like me) probably don't pay to see productions like this at the War Memorial Opera House very often --  if at all.

My father, a season ticket holder to the Nashville Opera, once told me that he often ran into a man who routinely drove from Atlanta to Nashville to watch the opera there.  Surprised at this -- Atlanta has a perfectly good opera of its own -- my father asked him why he would make that long drive.  The gentleman's response was that the opera scene in Atlanta had turned into just that -- a scene.  It was where the wealthy went to be photographed in fine clothing; it wasn't about the music.  This man drove more than 200 miles because he wanted to ENJOY THE MUSIC rather than MAKE THE SCENE. 

It's a story like that which makes opera at the ballpark make so much sense. Twenty-five thousand people were happy to enjoy the music without buying a fancy outfit or paying a ridiculously high price to do so.

So kudos and thanks to you, San Francisco Opera and San Francisco Giants, for making the music accessible to us all.

Nicola Luisotti makes his debut as San Francisco Opera's music director with this audience favorite, in which fast-paced action is propelled by an irresistible stream of melody. Verdi's favorite themes of destiny and desire are threaded through this suspenseful story of a corrupt count, a dashing warrior and a Gypsy who plots to avenge her mother's wrongful death. David McVicar's visually striking new production is inspired by the haunting imagery of Francisco de Goya. Tenor Marco Berti and baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky, whose beautiful tone and emotional intensity thrilled audiences in last season's Simon Boccanegra, head a charismatic cast featuring mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe and soprano Sondra Radvanovsky.

Park(ing) Day Enthusiasm Curbed by Heat

Park(ing) Day: an annual event where artists, activists, and citizens transform metered parking spots into temporary public parks. Originated in San Francisco by art and design collective Rebar, Park(ing) Day grew to a national -- nae, global -- event in a surprisingly short time.  The event was begun in 2005, and the PARKcycle, a man-powered park vehicle, debuted in 2007.

Now you'd THINK that if you wake up on Park(ing) Day in the city where it originated you'd see creative spots for miles.  Not so.  In fact, I had to work rather hard to find relatively few examples of observance. Could it be that I was looking in the wrong places?  Quite possibly.  But I had taken the precaution of checking the website for likely makeshift parks, so you can't say I didn't try.  Could it be that it was darned near 80 degrees in the shade in The City today and nobody wanted to set up on asphalt?  Also quite possible.

After waiting out the midday sun, I began my search at 3rd and Mission, roughly attempting to mirror the route the PARKcycle would have taken earlier in the day while visiting installations.  From Mission, I trekked over to Market Street (on which I didn't see a single park!), and eventually hopped the F-Line streetcar to Valencia, which had been touted as a likely hub for the event.  Walking several blocks from Valencia's origination at Market Street down to 25th, I passed only a handful of parks, most of them uninspired. Nothing like the rather creative pictures I'd seen from previous years.  Ah well.  Nonetheless, I took a few shots.

Though I would have preferred to have seen this thing on the move, I was at least lucky enough to spot the Rebar PARKcycle visiting the Bicycle Coalition area.

This folding chair park at Valencia & 20th lacked a certain panache, but did benefit from a row of trees.

This mini-park at Valencia &19th gets a few points for the wood pillar and its park ranger.

But this one at Ritual Roasters, Valencia & 21st was by far the most successful park I witnessed, for sheer participation.  Par(k)-tay!

P.S.  SFist has a better photo gallery of, well, pretty much these same parks.  There's one though that was obviously already gone by the time I walked past.  Free Design Clinic, Valencia and 20th -- where'd ya go?

I See Tweed People

According to Laughing Squid,  "Tweed Rides – group bicycle events in which riders eschew spandex in favor of elegant, vintage-inspired riding attire – are growing in popularity, with newly-announced rides in San Francisco, Chicago, and Sydney, Australia."  So when I heard that SF Tweed would be riding, I ventured out with a new-fangled camera hoping to capture a few jolly shots.  Unfortunately, by the time they finally sallied forth (with a rousing "tally ho!") the lack of light presented a challenge.  However, I did collect a few shots of the dapper tweeds frolicking on a tennis court in Delores Park before the pedaling began in earnest.

Though there was no sporting green, there were mallets.  Though there were no horses, there were bicycles.  So whether the game the Tweeds played on court should be considered polo or croquet is a question best left to them, but the games didn't end there, as they also performed choreographed moves on bike and field.

 

You may notice that even the lasses are sporting handlebar mustaches in this event.

A Tweed reminds the crowd that "we are not Critical Mass!  We obey the traffic laws and are polite to the motorists."  However, if the Tweeds have already entered an intersection en masse when the light changes, they are instructed to continue through.  Which is why many of them are carrying "Intersection Diplomat" signs.  Like this one:

As always... click to enlarge.

We're Off to See the Skidders

Assured by the Tuesday noon siren that all was well in The City today, I ventured out of doors to see for myself the much-discussed-of-late Hugo Hotel, a former tenement building which, in the roughly 20 years it has been sitting vacant has become a site-specific art installation (called Defenestration) featuring "seemingly animated" furniture escaping out through windows, heading for the fire escapes, and clinging to the side of the building.  Though the owners have been reluctant to sell, a jury this week decided that enough was enough and awarded the city eminent domain. The hotel is slated to be demolished and replaced with a mixed use facility to include "affordable" housing.

Now... had I done that much research before going out into the world, I might have thought twice about trekking my way out to 6th and Howard Streets, where the "site specific art installation" doesn't leap out at you quite as much as the appropriateness of the word "tenement."  There is no doubt on this corner that you are, indeed, on skid row.  Which is somewhat unfortunate because it's a very interesting building and, in another part of town, it might have been saved as a tourist attraction.  As it is -- where it is -- it won't be.

Though I did take my camera along for the visitation, this was a part of town where even if you could find a shaded shot out of the noonday sun you wouldn't necessarily want to display valuables.  (I took the shot above and quickly pocketed my camera). I decided to share better pictures taken by braver souls instead.

There are very decent ones HERE.

But since I was out, I decided to take advantage of other photographic opportunities.

You see, although it's been far too long since Frank Sinatrat made an appearance on these pages, he is back on the prowl.  After a long, unplanned stay in Nashville, Frankie came home with a friend -- Lion L. Messi -- who Frankie is showing around.  There's a long backstory here, playing out on Facebook, but by the time of these pictures it had become obvious to Messi's owner that while Frankie had pants, Messi did not.  These are the first of a series of shots in which Messi will only venture out fully covered... and, well, his options were limited.

Messi, I'm glad you're willing to go out again, but....

A stop along Market Street

 

 Frank, are you SURE this is the way to the wizard?

These don't look like poppies to me....

Yeah, yeah... "great and powerful."  Got it.

Now look, my friend here needs some pants!

Weather? Is That... Weather?

Although a certain portion of the SF population might disagree, being awakened by the unexpected flash of lightning and crash of thunder this morning was a welcome surprise for those of us who've spent the last few years in weather-free Southern California.

At the same time, it reminds us that sometimes -- no really -- plans can be changed by a shift in the weather. There were several outdoor events scheduled for the day, including the 14th Annual Ghirardelli Chocolate Festival, Shakespeare in the Park (two things I was going to do), and something called the Power to the Peaceful Festival (which I wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole). Alas, now that everything is cold and wet, I imagine that I'm not the only one who'll be skipping these events in favor of the warm and dry.

It's probably not enough rain to keep the Giants from taking their "we're in this thing... no wait, we WERE in this thing" trouncing by the unmentionable team from SoCal tonight at AT&T Park (broadcast for our home disappointment); but on the other hand, those poncy so-and-sos (I need to work on my smack talk) just might melt in the non-surf wetness, giving the Giants their one obligatory win of the three-game stand.

Yay!

I Told You She Was Real

For years (when the subject has come up) I've been telling people about this Skipper doll I had when I was a kid. "It was kinda like prepubescent Skipper," I'd say. "If you rotated her arm, her breasts would grow." I'm not sure anyone ever believed me. Now, thanks to a random comment posted in response to the upcoming Altered Barbie show in The City, I can prove it. Thanks Sarah. Whoever you are.

Fine, Blogger. You Win. This Time.

I finally did it. I abandoned my old template in favor of this new design. Why had I been resistant to make this change? Well, because I HATE the archive options. The old design didn't give a flip when I wrote something and didn't organize by date. It simply gave you a list of Post Titles. If you liked the title, you'd click through and read. Now, I used to work pretty hard on interesting titles and I didn't want to see them disappear to lists of "May" and "September." Worse, under this new template you get stupid little triangles (aaauuuuggggghhhhh!) by the monthly header if you want your post titles to show. Blogger, if you're listening, THIS IS UGLY. Just gimme a list of post titles and be done with it.

So I've been thinking of moving the blog to Bravenet or another provider (I have friends who seem to like WordPress), but ultimately, I'm attached to this one. And, frankly, I'm not writing often enough anymore to bother with a move. So a little redesign (with ugly archives) and... here she is.

Unfortunately, to make a banner out of the picture at the top, I had to crop out the offending tag. Friends who've followed me on Facebook and other outlets will get the joke -- the armless OCD statue helpless to straighten the upside down tablecloth, tag showing. For the rest of you, here's the full shot:



Fitting, no?

Kells Irish

While the meter maid gave an unsuspecting San Francisco citizen a ticket, I snapped this shot of the Kells Irish Restaurant and Bar ("pub" in the fine print) through her minuscule vehicle.

I visited Kells in Seattle a few years ago.

There's a T-shirt to prove it somewhere.