Two fingers of paradise


I’m humming (the songs of) Eddie Money as I sip coffee at Caffe Trieste in North Beach, early on a rainy Monday fall morning. “Two fingers of paradise” is a corny headline; as if that’s how much espresso was holding up the foam.

I chatted with a guy named Paul who has worked here for 40 years, though I don’t recall having met him. I sacrificed a dollar to the juke box dogs but nothing played; I meant “gods” but just as i was typing I looked up to see two hounds entering, jonesing for their joe. The songs I imagined hearing were by: Etta James, Dean Martin, Nina Smore, Beale Street Blues Boy.

Maybe it’s just as well it didn’t ruin my Eddie Money fix. Waited so long.

b/w
earlier today, before I got to The City, I swung by Soul Coffee in Pacific to see what it looked like darkly.

and1: speaking of Frisco, I took the train yesterday to catch the first set of Adam Theis big band. Then I walked thru SFMOMA and caught part of Windy Chien’s presentation about knots. I bought her book, about the year she spent making knots (as art, not to bind things per se). Windy owned a record store when the rest of us just hung out in clubs; and then sold her ear to Apple for big bucks, or rented it out. And now she is an artist. I noticed not to rag she has 206 hands her own hands in the book, (Compared to GE Wang of Stanford who has that many pictures of his face in his book).

I thought about commissioning Windy to design a couple knots, or licensing them, to represent Scott Amendola, Trevor Dunn and Philip Greenlief. Like for a poster. Or knots. Afraid not.

And the guy next to me mentions John Ralston had passed, at 92. (Eddie Money, Ric Ocasek, John Ralston). In winter, 1984, I was a temporary reporter for the PTT during the 10 weeks that the Oakland Invaders were a thing — the guy at the next table said it made the obit.

Cue danny boy, or candy-o or Mark Kozelek fat cat spitting out hair balls.

1. Chris Strausser, Indianapolis Colts line coach — and my friend since 7th grade, though never a teammate — as told to Alex Valdes of PAW, 1995:
By acquiring the San Jose State job, Strausser not only has returned to the area but has also come full circle in his relationship with Spartan head coach John Ralston, who helped Strausser get the job at Menlo in 1989.

At that time, Ralston was scouting for the Seattle Seahawks and living in Menlo Park. A mutual friend of Ralston’s and Strausser’s introduced the two and they struck up a friendship.

Ralston then contacted Menlo head coach Ray Solari, who had played football with Ralston at Cal, and paved the way for Strausser to get an assistant coaching spot.

“John Ralston is a great guy to work for,” Strausser said. “He’s at that stage where he want to help other coaches get better. He’s a real positive guy, which has been the foundation of his career.”

Stanford rose bowl hoopla; when Ralston retired from SJSU in 1996, he was the only active member of the College Football Hall of Fame, according to a blurb in the Times, that seach-Injuns did suss.

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Jared Goff in action, after Levinthal

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Another type of fantasy football: teeny mates

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My 7 best Raider QBs all-time

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David Humm was the back up or third string quarterback during my youngster days going to the Coliseum with my dad

F948421E-7D42-4395-A89D-12013375127D.jpegDan Pastorini was a Raider but better known for his heroics with Bellarmine, Santa Clara Broncos, and Houston Oilers. He had curly hair or a perm.

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Tom Flores I never actually saw him play but I liked him as a coach. And I admit I sometimes confuse him with Joe Kapp.

 

 

Jim Plunkett is a legend locally in San Jose at Stanford with the patriots with the 49ers that season he was really pathetic and then he turned it around and won a Super Bowl for the Silver and Black.

George Blanda kept playing until he was an old man on 47 which was about my dad’s age — I will have to look it up who was born first. Repeat with me: snap spot Stabler kick Blanda good.  Repeat with me: snap spot Stabler kick Blanda good

This was the greatest playoff play ever, Stabler to Clarence Davis to beat Miami:

bonus track:
I went to a Raiders-Chiefs game and saw a sign that read: LENNY DAWSON ISN’T AWESOME / SMITH AND TRUNK WILL KILL THE PUNK

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Doris Day, ‘whatever will be, will be…’ VS Eddie Money, ‘whatever will be, will be’

 

Their songs were 20 years apart (“Que Sera” vs “Baby, Hold On To Me” But they both expired in 2019 five months apart

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I’ve got a two for one coupon ad running in the Palo Alto weekly for the John Santos show tonight

Which sort of defeats the purpose of advertising in the Palo Alto weekly if plastic alto is driving traffic there

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I am also handing out 10 copies of the coupon that I clipped myself, tainting the measure of the ad but giving me a one on one tête-à-tête out reach opportunityI am also handing out 10 copies of the coupon that I clipped myself, tainting the measure of the ad but giving me a one on one tête-à-tête out reach opportunity X 10

edit to add: show was great!
A highlight was when John Santos called a member of the audience, a visiting musician from Cuba, to sit in:

Stanford rose bowl hoopla; when Ralston retired from SJSU in 1996, he was the only active member of the College Football Hall of Fame, according to a blurb in the Times, that seach-Injuns did suss.

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Rosencrantz and Guildenstern versus Duffy’s blue bags

 

 

I am not sure what it could mean but I have noticed that, like the famous logic defying coin flip seen in the Tom Stoppard absurd play, 100 times in a row as Duffy deftly  makes his little pile I reach in my pocket, grab a blue bag and start at the wrong side of the bag looking for its mouth so to speak.

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Although I told myself I would not exploit Duffys what

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Samardzjia, The Shark, Serb VS San Jose Sharks, nine different citizenships

I think it said: US, Canada, Russia, Czech, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, German, Swiss.

See also: Cree in the crease.

Also: say goodnight Lovejoy. “Goodnight Lovejoy”.

edit to add: about a month later I went to the sharks game for the first time in 20 years and saw a young Filipino guy wearing a Finish hockey jersey but had to leave during the first period to get home and finish cooking dinner

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Kashmir autonomy, 2019 VS Ladakh, 1990s, Helena Norberg Hodge


This morning a woman in beautiful but to me foreign “traditional” clothing explained her cause as we walked from Coupa Cafe to Anna Eshoo’s office. In case, like me, you flipped thru The New York Times too quickly in the last six weeks, on August 5, the government of India had rescinded the autonomy of Kashmir, a mostly Muslim territory. I would only assume she was appealing to Eshoo to get her to urge her colleagues — and We The People by extension — to do something, to restore autonomy in Kashmir.

It reminded me, perhaps crudely, of working with Helena Norberg-Hodge to market her documentary “Ancient Futures: Learning from Ladakh”. Like Kashmir, Ladakh traditionally was an independent nation — of Himalayan cutlure, Buddhism, traditional farming — until annexed by India, mostly Hindu, and more advanced or developed. Norberg-Hodge’s work focused on the effects of a quick introduction of technology and media to Ladakh: boys and men suddenly riding mopeds and wearing leather jackets, and influenced by GI Joe and Rambo.

(Today also in some ways reminds me of the day I met Hakan Sukar the Turkish soccer player, on Bryant–like I admitted, my mind jumpcuts).

I noted, in researching this story, that the Times had a column by a Hindu ex-pat who cannot go back to Kashmir either. Obviously the story is more complex than one can glean from a single source, or a solitary discussion.

F_, my new neighbor and friend and teacher, and I discussed whether Anna was Armenian — I recalled middle eastern but something more “exotic” – I think its Orthodox. (Ok, Chaldean Catholic of Assyrian and Armenian heritage; or NorCal, as we say. NorCal Normal).

Also, as I write this I am watching a Giants game and on the mound and about to bat is “The Shark” who on his greatest day outran the Stanford football secondary for a touchdown for Notre Dame, the Catholic football power. One swing, #29 Samardzjia gets a hit before I can fact-check his name. (Followed of course by Yastrezemski). (He has 63 pitches but losing to The Pirates in the top of the 5th)(86 pitches top 3 but still trailing by 3, 1,2 — yanked so to speak my Bochy after 95 throws)

Is “beauty” universal or bounded by culture?

I also flashed to — and streamed — Led Zeppelin “Kashmir” and its “shangri-la” lyric which AutoCorrect wants to call shanghai. It’s mostly a red herring.

F- she said is affiliated with a Muslim center in Mountain View – Google seems to place it near Fred’s Bar and Mike’s Bikes. (By the way, Palo Alto’s new mosque was built by a different ethnic group, but also Muslims from India. “wealthier” according to F-).

from The Ladakh Project

And: Now I really am spinning: but I thought of Sports Illustrated Muslim swimwear and then a scene from “Grit” a PBS documentary of an Indonesian woman swimming in a similar outfit.
AndAnd but not Anand: PBS radio interview Terry Gross with “Tan” “Natural Tan” a Pakistani fashion consultant to “Queer Eye For the Straight Guy”. Spinning and swimming.

But, yes, a clave now in Plastic Alto and my gray matter is acknowledging Islam.

This is mud in Indonesia buryng art and eventually people.

edit to add: HNH:Author and filmmaker Helena Norberg-Hodge is the founder and director of Local Futures. A pioneer of the ‘new economy’ movement, she has been promoting an economics of personal, social, and ecological well-being for more than thirty years. She is the producer and co-director of the award-winning documentary The Economics of Happiness. She has authored several books, including the inspirational classic Ancient Futures: Learning from Ladakh and Local is Our Future: Steps to an Economics of Happiness (described by author David Korten as “a must-read book for our time”). She has given public lectures in seven languages, and has appeared in broadcast, print, and online media worldwide, including MSNBC, The London Times, The Sydney Morning Herald, and The Guardian. She was honored with the Right Livelihood Award (or ‘Alternative Nobel Prize’) for her groundbreaking work in Ladakh, and received the 2012 Goi Peace Prize for contributing to “the revitalization of cultural and biological diversity, and the strengthening of local communities and economies worldwide.” For a complete biography, see here: Helena Norberg-Hodge.

Helena Norberg Hodge: Right LIvelihood Award, the alt Nobel Prize, winner

last word goes to Rania Matar, photograph of a Muslim refugee in Beirut:

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V.Vale v Eve Valois

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The Bruce Conners reading a ReSearch pub, photo copyright V. Vale.

If it is not obvious on first instance, one might recognize a pattern wherein a common trope at Plastic Alto is to compare two dissimilar items with similar names. Wasn’t there a guy on Saturday Night Live who would have a whole book of these called “snake glitz”? I think the guy later befriended my former editor at The Dartmouth from Palo Alto —and whose parents I saw last night —of the exact same name —the father at least—the mother is Barbara like my mother— Jim Newton.

Anyhow, yesterday I snuck out to the movies twice: once for “Blinded by the Light” based on the memoir of a British journalist from Pakistan named Monsour or Manzoor rather (which itself deserves more treatment: it reminded me of my father);  two, at the Balboa in San Francisco a screening of the 1924 German expressionistic film “hands or lack”;  in the lobby was the famous publisher and cultural maven V. Vale.  I bought from him a book of his photographs parentheses see above and a T-shirt that I’ll probably never wear with William S Burroughs holding a not quite automatic machine gun. And, come to think of it, I got in a conversation with the Persian woman about the depiction of Dash her name was Sahar  like the desert dash  The feature movie of a couple years ago or 10 years ago about the German radicals and the scene where loyalist to the shot were beating up the left or the young ex-pats in Germany.  Excuse aggression parentheses I also tend to leave weird AutoCorrect‘s and well shaggy dog.

Or as Gertrude Stein would say: I write for myself and people stranger than myself.

So walking out of the Palo alto Square – which when it was being proposed was picketed by the Stanford radical Lenny Siegel later to be mayor of Mountain View and in fact on St. Patrick’s Day they did an exorcism to drive out the snake glitz.

I quickly tapped my phone and learned that Mansour had done some type of journalism about a famous large breasted and sadly dead woman whose stage name was Lolo Ferrari  And real name Eve Valois.

So I am saying that if you pronounce Vive LN even make it sound Spanish like the tennis word for hitting a ball in the air, It is almost Homophonic (!)  to the name of the publisher and Hance worthy of inclusion here at plasty. Which reminds me to lather on one more thought like that woman from San Francisco who kept a creation creation creation and then hard to move a large piece of weird art —She is the Carol Doda Of England or the perhaps Asian Carol Doda  which also causes my synapses at least to ejaculate of “star 80 which was not about Jerry Rice who also is not Asian. But he does have amazing hands like Orlac —  and I was likely the only person among the 75 or 80 in attendance upon seeing the bandage and thought “wrapped up like a douche“

another runner in the night. Edit to add: “Come To Think Of It” might be a good sub- head of “Plastic Alto”. Also: “Quotidian In Quodlibet”.

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One millón runs, twenty thousand players, five hundred Venezuelans


Bryan Reynolds of the Pirates, a former Giant, beat his old team the other night, blowing a fine start by Mad Bum. I noticed on the leading online baseball reference that he is listed as the nineteen thousand and somethingth player in MLB history(19,465). It reminded me of reading about Bob Watson scoring the 1,000,000th run, a few years back. Also, because I frequent Coupa Cafe I root for VZ ballers and noted they are up to nearly 500 all time.
Oh yeah, there was also something about Bruce Bochy reaching a career record of 1,995 wins and 2,019 losses: those numbers were also the parameters of his career, 1995-2019. A math-oriented sports writer suggested he immediately retire to preserve the oddity, and then posters quickly called the guy a nut.
Kind of reminds me of Dartmouth professor Carl Pomerance and “Ruth-Aaron Pairs” for example the number 714 and 7xx wherein you factor the number and then add those up and that’s the largest pair that that is true for, I think.

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