President of Mexico in Palo Alto and other auspices

Posted on November 4, 2014 by markweiss86

Saw this dude in town and met his Baldhead security 2nite

Saw this dude in town and met his Baldhead security 2nite

I was in not University commercial part of Palo Alto not campaigning 25 hours or so before polls open and close like a Venus fly trap and walking off the beer and football I notivrdt a familiar face some kind of party a lockout at a clasier joint than the one I was scraping off my shoes The President of Mexico. The bald or shaved security guy said if he was not so busy we could play at sobriety test prep wasn’t sure he wasn’t hitting on me. I almost wanted to pull out from my trunk of Chedder parked 40 feet away my spiffy and Terry built MARK WEISS FOR PALO ALTO sign but thankful after picturing tragic misunderstanding did not merely pulled out so to speak no premature protocol reach around try.

This was a really classy shindig they had from M-A Stevie Nicks but people like me were forced to not see not gawk but stare at the new glassy walk like in ancient Hawaii or Mark Twain version of such. I thought I saw my favorite diplomat there but merely hitched my dress like Suzanne Vega don’t think he sees me I don’t think so and security o can foretell does not have time or stomach for moldy war story but owner or chef comes out and offers him a French sized morsel and I tempt fate by he would be spoken two not Danes mention a Swedish farm girl I used to know. Did I say beer gin joint or potato juice?

Rhianon or Merv morris or his sister looking like my diebencorn

Rhianon or Merv morris or his sister looking like my diebencorn

He says or she says lady there is nothing to see here.
And I lady you don’t need to see is actual lyric feel like the under class or undesirable more than future mayor. Weird huh.
Todd Kjos, thanks for endorsement. Susan Charles. Terry Shuchat saysvhi and bye but I will take it as good sign.

I worked for Jerry Brown For President so even sighting I mean I think I can discern TV from real unlike Chancy The Gardener as played by Peter Sellers and Jerzy Kozinski is good. Makes me go yes on 1 & 2.

Not Garcia eating not smoking it we'd say

Not Garcia eating not smoking it we’d say


Mazel tov to lovely spy lady and her mini her never met but we are distantly related or share the One Soul.
Our neighbor Art

Our neighbor Art

Aram James and Carol Garston at a low security no celebrity Weiss not Go over or State Department event. Shout to not Judy Smith Melicia Charles on it for Uncle Sam port of call I will protect HER privacy not mentioning exact locale not land of Isle of splendour

Aram James and Carol Garston at a low security no celebrity Weiss not Go over or State Department event. Shout to not Judy Smith Melicia Charles on it for Uncle Sam port of call I will protect HER privacy not mentioning exact locale not land of Isle of splendour

edit to add, 8 days later: I fell asleep in front of tv, woke up to see Charlie Rose, Jon Stewart, Mazier Bahari and Gael something, talking about Iran, “Rosewater” aka “Then They Came For Me” and I think the man above is not only not Michael McFaul or President Nieto of Mexico, but who he actually is not is an Iranian journalist inprisoned for 118 days in Iran accused of being a spy. Or if Gael is not the guy above, there are 2 pretty cool Mexicans sneaking around.

Gael García Bernal (Spanish pronunciation: [ɡaˈel ɣaɾˈsi.a βeɾˈnal]; born November 30, 1978) is a Mexican film actor, director, and producer. He founded Canana Films in Mexico City.

Ok, the real Gael Garcia Bernal sings with Devandra Barnhart but in the film about Iran prison there is cameo by Leonard Cohen.

Gael the rael

Gael the rael

Indeed typing “peacock” and “late night tv” yields the facts that Gael Garcia Bernal appeared November 3 on Jimmy Fallon on NBC but also yields false positive of Katy Perry “Peacock” on Letterman.

The thing with McFaul and me being 86’d from the sidewalk in front of a restaurant on Birch Street on eve of election, when I am on the ballot here, — check that, read it “McFaul comma and me” — is probably just Condi with security detail and not actually Colin Powell let alone Vladimir Putin my first thought, hope or memory.
Flash to my ex-girlfriend D claiming she met Rice in DC and had the same hair stylist and Rice saying quote “call me Connie” sic. There, now I’ve written about D_. How Does it Feel?

Enrique Peña Nieto (Spanish pronunciation: [enˈrike ˈpeɲa ˈnjeto] ( listen); born 20 July 1966) is a Mexican politician and the current President of Mexico. And since 2010 married to Angelica Rivera, a soap opera star, which is what saves this from being merely idiotic. Not his marriage I mean but her star-power.

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Two minute warning or warming to or of Steve Almond Against Football

Posted on November 3, 2014 by markweiss86

This has 45 reviews on major web portal compared to 3 for the compilation I bought and mentioned above, with Namath and Red Smith and Dwight Clark the catch on cover, but 500 for Nate Jackson:

Steve Almond who lives in Boston has three kids, two brothers and was two years behind me at Gunn and the editor mantle of the Oracle apparently it appears does not like Football and is eloquent or elegant enough to stretch that thought or run under it like Cliff Branch from Snake Stabler in 1975 or like me running under a Billy Parker toss that glorious six seconds to last if not a lifetime then forty years — FORTY YEARS I SAY — my inner foghorn leghorn likewise rising out of its four-pint stance — for 177 pages and twenty three doll hairs from or for Melville House and Amy Sedaris too.

I spy the words “3.7 GPA” which is not referencing Ken Williards average yards per carry for the 4.9 in 1970.

I hope but am not counting on calling Jim Harbaugh a dick.

He was also known as “Scoop” his twin just Mike and also Dave or David big brother we also called, in a tip to Mel Brooks, in Mr. Murray’s Spanish class, Brad Elman and me, Professor Little All Man. Earlier he wrote about rock music. Maybe he is glossed herein and above, in previous 500,000 memes and moans.

Some joke about a woman before the baby-mom and a pun on statistics and sat-dick-sticks and “regression to mean”. Ok, but not very Nitsky or Nagurski. P. 98 “biggest fucking pussy…change your tampon you woman” this is not good for me, Steve, was it good for you?

And 1: pp 148 to 150 sustained thought about Pat Tillman that is promising, I hope to actually read it soon enough. I did not know Don Delillo had a book on football called End Zone listed in thanks.

Maybe stick to candy, kiddo. I am not baiting him. Ok, I will cut to the chase, the big opening number:

okay, references Harvard and Yale in the 1860s and banning of early versions of game which I have to admit does appeal to my inner snob of the six-figure private education club. Swede Oberlander call your ghost Dave Casper agent. I think David Almond started at Harvard and switched to Stanford. And Yes Ryan Fitzpatrick is making more of a dent in NFL than John Paye of Stanford did or does if you excuse the mixed metaphor. You would think a guy working at B.U. or what not would piss on Harvard, will have to skim for that. Nowinski, should be here. I think I traded briefly with Steve a minute ago. Jonathan Martin p. 115. Ok.

I have to admit that when I heard about Kwame the Stanford lineman who could play piano and was I think part West Indian (you can go West-East but not North-south, if you are jumping somehow from Bruce Hampton to hear as I am) there was a broadcast news bit I wanted to reach out and maybe Earthwise manage him, that being before he started beating up his partner, or you would think. Does Stanford have some kind of pipeline so to speak on gay black linemen?

Anyhow good luck, Steve Almond. I owe you a better two minutes, so to speak. I am not at bookstore, I am at Peets, across from a bookstore I knew or know but not in biblical or Wesleyan rapper sense even das butt.

cue GF: and this stretches out, see above, to 4 minutes which proves once again that Gary is twice the man I’ll ever be:

and 1:
two minutes later I realize partly due to this that I might as well and am more likely to by 5:30 tonight be sitting in the Old Pro of Palo Alto the former Ramona’s on Ramona and not the quonsut hut on Pepper watching Colts and Giants for no reason, with a Guinness and maybe if not a burger a chicken sandwich than going to Oakland Arena to watch Black Keys and Jake Bugg and certainly not sitting in the “promoters hold” or spooning spit out of Ralph Carney’s saxophone. Thank you, Donna Grider but you are on your own.

edit to add, weeks later:
One on one with John Paye, 1978 and 2014
I have an appointment to meet up with John Paye and his place of work, his gym in San Carlos, California tomorrow morning. Later that day, he leads the Menlo Prep school girls’ varsity basketball against rivals Menlo-Atherton of Menlo Park, Calif, in a six-part basketball extravaganza, at the El Camino Real gym. I may go to that as well, lord willing the creek don’t rise and my girlfriend finds something equally her to do. (She did sit with me at a Gunn girls basketball game when we first started dating, and we went with the Rothsteins to the Seqouia football jamboree in September of this year, Gunn was in).

I want to ask John a hypothetical: you are a former Stanford quarterback, who coaches girls high school hoops, how would you respond if Stanford calls and asks you to come back to the farm to coach football, head coach I mean, is that something you can rise to the challenge of, in the way that going from football to basketball each winter may have entailed a few weeks or sessions of getting your basketball legs back, relative to your football mindset and body, or is this, twenty years past your playing days too much water under the bridge, too far removed to switch back to football after years of being in basketball?

I won’t be disappointed if he can answer succinctly in 100 words and then shows me the door; he’s got a game that day (or three, if not six), he’s got a business to run, he’s got his own family, it’s holiday season, et cetera. But something tells me, or isn’t it pretty to think so — F. Scott Fitzgerald — that if I know John Paye — and I hardly know John Paye, I admit — that he will respond thoughtfully and teach me what I don’t know about this topic and the assumptions therein.

Part of the backstory is that when I was a rising Freshman hopeful to play frosh-soph hoops at Gunn — and excuse the fluid back and form between the cage and the gridiron — I for reference was a receiver for the 8th grade A team flag football at Terman, and played three season of hoops at Gunn — plus I was a sportswriter before becoming a blogger — and John Paye was at the Menlo Junior High as a prospective 8th grader, this is summer of 1978, both of us attended Dick DiBiaso’s Stanford basketball camp. John was already, even a grade disadvantaged the best player in the camp whereas I was, well, not the worst. Even so, I asked John to play one-on-one with me, during everyone else’s lunch break, and he said “yes”. The score was 20-16 winners; any closer it might have gone to overtime or win by 2 buckets.

And: a few minutes alter, I am at Starbucks on Laurel in San Carlos, a mile or so from Paye’s Place — John Paye rang me a few minutes ago to confirm my interview request and reported he is in LA-LA for the night to watch his former charge, a center for USC ladies hoops, play against Loyola-Marymount which coincidentally features the daughter of one of his Menlo football teammates. The screen froze for a minute and I thought I had lost this whole, even hidden, session and jumped up to see which computer-mesmer or North Korean enemy of James Teddy Franco was secretly controlling me. Just a ghost, which reminds me that I am parked — and excuse the digression, especially if you are here because you are a fan of either Steve Almond or John Paye — in front of SamTrans building which has an odd piece of public art, of a man and a woman and their two kids and you cannot tell if they are historical, mythological or realistic and a plaque that says in 1974 Ken Kidwell the banker paid for this so maybe it is him and his kin. Which made me utter the line: are those cop-killer bullets in your pocket or are you just happy to see us?

The game with John Paye versus yours truly Mark Weiss, at lunch hour at Maples Pavillion during a summer camp when I was 14 and he 13, won by he 20-16 I meant to say was “losers” meaning essentially we took turns on offense. Winners would mean, he would continue with the ball until I stopped him. That, plus he may not have been trying that hard. I also remember at the very start of camp Mike Bratz a Stanford player and therefore star of the coaching staff telling me that my shots all rolled in after friendly bounces and that when we moved from the outside courts to Maples I mightn’t me so lucky. Good eye for talent, he. But my point about John Paye is that he was an approachable and likable guy, at that age but reportedly carrying on thru his playing and probably coaching days, and I salute that. It is probably not true the Leo Durocher saying that nice guys finish last. Sometimes nice guys finish first. I also met Steve Young a couple times in passing so to speak in recent years and he seems like a nice guy. I will stop here on the off chance that John Paye is reading this. I presume if he names his gym Paye’s Place he banks on the goodwill established by he, his sister his parents and probably his kids and it probably does not skew things that I am publishing in advance our mutual schedule for Friday. Normally people like some privacy. And as Andy Grove, who I’ve met, says: only the paranoid survive.

I am curious about John Paye’s take on character, beyond he box scores.

And on a related topic, I am wondering about the Riekes Center open house.

To tie the heads and tails here, John Paye is a counter-argument to Steve Almond’s book.

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Jodi is smarter than her meter; or, 8888 w. Jodi w. SEIU

Posted on November 3, 2014 by markweiss86

she can go east west she can go north south

she can go east west she can go north south


SNAKE ANTHONY IS NOT A SMALL JAPANESE WOMAN NOR IS OR WAS JODI BALL, S.E.I.U
(In the course of a 12-week campaign leading up to my name on the ballot as candidate, member, Palo Alto City Council, I am slightly more outgoing than usual Weissian self and tend to post to the cloud more freely, this being item #141 since July 14, on policy or a blend of policy and culture, than being lingua franca of Plastic Alto; Bruce Hampton is the narrator of the background track, from Medeski Martin Wood “Uninvisible” of 2002 — “snake anthony…” If I do end up producing a track or more of Jodi Ball her thoughts, voice, music timing and essence, I guess, if seated to council or maybe ARB Architectural Review Board I would at least report to Clerk or City Attorney Molly Stump that I have a client who is also working for We The People. A couple huge ifs there. For reference, City Manager — Jim Keene — runs the city and reports to Council who report to we the people, about 60,000 of us and about 20,000 registered voters. I think there are 1,000 employees, our budget is $150 M which might not include Utilites, here the instant matter, and a good number, like Ball, are union, S.E.I.U, who I tend to support; timing is everything, or as Paracelsus sort of said, there is poison or potion based on dose; if she has nothing else ready to say she can, oddly enough, read this:

I think there is a pun on “meter” somewhere, yet not funky. This is somewhere between punk, “stoner rant” Beat as of 1961 filtered thru Coen Brothers 2013 version of such, ode to Tom Parkinson and his assailant, real MMW and The Groove Grillers; maybe Hampton would lay down a track, sally

Snake Anthony was not a small Japanese woman, nor is or was Jodi, S.E.I.U, “caught working” a drummer and bass player of a punk vintage yet open-minded and broader, so to speak, and in flux, like a river, like the same river once, as Marshall McLuhan had said, and Myra Melford did affirm. Ball, on a roll, working the streets, and avenues, of Our Fair City; she has installed smart and smarter meters up and down our best coast. I tried to rouse Maya from her abode but it was still fairly early, even with the shift, not the red-shift the big one, doppler and all that, —big bang, beat— but spring forward fall back and all that. Vallejo. She said she used to live near Highland School, where Tracy Hartwell famously, or famous enough, put together two compilations, Say It Thru Song, Jodi Ball said she heard or heard of that. Good on Tracy! Anyhow, I was telling her about AFI at the Cub, 1996 — back in 19 and 96, as the man might say — it was AFI — a fire inside, asking for it — Groovie Ghoulies, Vintage 46 local kids with Mohawks from San Mateo and Fury 66 from Santa Cruz. We sold 404 tickets in a 300-cap room, which only works since you can stand about a 100 in the “throw”, but yeah it did get a little rough; a welder named Arbogast fixed all four or three chairs for like $75 total chargeback, he was holed up near the former Moffeit Drive-In, eventually he too sold out. Actually, since I am playing track #3 of MMW as I compose this, in three or four 2:35 loops, it is pretty wild to say that in one July weekend at Cubberley Community Center of Palo Alto, Earthwise Productions had back-to-back-to-back a three-peat if you will: AFI, MMW and Cake, about 1,000 people, probably fewer repeats than you might expect today. I saw AFI recently on late night, Davy Havock pushing 40 himself but still swinging it, in a tough gay guy glam kind of way. Works for me. Caught working the lady says. Cake meanwhile whatever they do or don’t 2:43 actually to be exact, me at 9:42 engine running in my White Cheddar (Chevrolet Cruz 4-dour, 4-cylinder Chevy —- and as I type Chevy he says “we live in a Ched” or shed probably at like 0:53. Day before election, or 34 hours before polls close, although I am predicting it will take until December 3 or later to fill that fifth seat. Maybe it will be me. I am here. Send me. But, after this 10 a.m.at good ol’ HMG or GHS or GSH or whatever, To Jaco (not Pasturias, speaking of bass players and other not Japanese or even Hapa players). It’s all about timing. Jodi Ball and I meeting in the driveway. Her delivery. I am saying spoken word, funny and deep, backed by bass drums and keys, I have a hunch that she can play them all themselves. I am sensing 8888 that and my day job maybe a new client. I am one of the few in Palo Alto, in 2010 there were exactly 50 of us, who stood up for the public sector unions here, Measure D — my device was “d is demeaning, and e is expensive” — I’d like to stay in touch, we swapped digitals but in an analog sense as well. Maya did not take the bait. They would about the same age, and have a lot in common. Jodi said that Jello said “buy my album” and I said I hope he was kidding. When Jello played the Cub we by honest mistake or rookie erros oversold the house considerably by not counting in one of the advance piles and had a line out the door but luckily since it was a spoken word show and not a band and no gear to take up stage space or freak people out, literally or figuratively, the stage crew guy at Cub said we could, like the orchestra, place 100 folding chairs on stage and we had to run this by Jello or Eric really he was sit in the round. So we set 375 not 300, win-win-win. Anyways, thank you Jodi Ball for your public service meter reader and your sense of timing hope to see you soon. it would be funny and cool if sense thing came of this. And out. (run the photo, link to the MMW track. get the name of the speaker. not Snake Anthony obviously. the working title was: 8888 w. Jodi w. SEIU. Everything in 4’s like Bernie Worrell at B.B. King my then-client John Ellis opened up for. I helped him load out. Heavy. Save for later the dog crap Bhagadav Gita riff.

No relation to Lucille.
Jodi Ball Or Deal?

edit to add: I should explain: I’ve started to say that I feel “8,888” apropos of 11/4/14. Not to be all Joe Namath or some thing. If it’s not eight thousand near nine thousand votes cast than votes plus the number of people I’ve met, and the seeds going forward of the movement and its assets.

This is meant to be read aloud. Or “LOUDY”. Or as Rabbi Janet Marder told me recently: you don’t have to finish your work, but you cannot stop working either. (which I took so literally Sunday morning I was on my haunches –dauber down — scraping dog crap off Town and Country sidewalk, in front of Peet’s as a guy from Redwood City who said he played with or agains Jim Plunket and Jim Chasey later pivoted and yelled at me: WHAT ARE YOU THE DOG SHIT POLICE?

I get it.

Go, Jodi.

so you play this as your read that and maybe if you are like me you imagine Jodi Ball both reading one of her monologues ala Beth Lisick and playing all three parts, the drums, the bass and the keys. Or she reads this, 1,254 words takes about 6 minutes as another plays:

the only other thing, short of links and editing, is the all caps JODI which almosts looks like J O D I versus normal Jodi which is like a reverse ee cummings thingings

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No on D rant for weird lady blogger

Posted on November 2, 2014 by markweiss86

If Tuesday does not solve our very real set of problems, I would look to the Measure D supporters –and by the way LWV was biased in listing H, K and B and thirty others to E, J and T only — there’s a long and disappointing list and “follow the money” to figure who is this non-elected (in most cases) and non-representative and most important non-responsive “deep government” or “establishment” that are benefiting by our losses, and who are, sorry to say, our enemies. Of Democracy. Of Palo Alto. The other 59, 700 of us who are not “The Three Hundred”.

I would say here, a scoop for you, missy Thorp: If this passes: RECALL LIZ.

Or as 10,000 gay activists yelled, nose to nose with 1,000 armed cops, “White Night” in SF — and I’m sorry you think this is “incoherent” and “irrelevant’ to your little myopic, ahistoric world, world in a rain drop rather: WE HAVE THE POWER TO, WE HAVE THE POWER TO (and this was a Gunn High cheer at football rallies, contemporaneous, 1970s kind of thing, except for the ending, and I got this from “Times of Harvey Milk”) FIGHT BACK.

Bottom line: this is a ploy to preserve the momentum of developers and or get Liz the Mayor seat.

Also, for what it is worth, Tim Gray and I wrote and Sea Reddy joined in signing a ballot statement for this, that was not part of the record, but exists on my blog. NO ON D.

OR:
“Nine is fine”.

(Victoria Thorp is this weird lady blogger who deletes everything that I write on her wordpress blog – she went to Tufts or something B-list like that — and is sort of a muse in a grain of salt turn to pearl type of way, for Plasty so I posted this and pasted it here)

If I am choosing sides here besides the E-heads, like Peter Drekmeier who won’t support me because I stand with Tom Jordan and Enid Pearson and Emily REntzl on “No On E — Expensive” from 2010, about Bixby park and the “anaerobic digester” the other suspects in “deep government’ and GJR061614 would be the Roger Smith and the “9>7” people. And I otherwise like Roger, too.

I don’t think Tuesday will solve everything. My game plan is set for next 60 and 600 days either way.

Read my blog

Isaiah: Here I am, send me. (Works for Guy Kasznik, #81 for Gunn, as well)

and 1:
and where do you get the gall to be so fucking condescending? I might be Mayor you know.

i almost greeted you at a meeting the other night, matching the photo above to lady in back of room, with messier longer hair than pic above.

clue: james franco is “teddy” to people who knew him (but not me, or only indirectly and second hand me) my post about “teddy and esther” is only incoherent if you don’t know the basic facts. more likely you are culturally illiterate by local standards than I am incoherent and irrelevant.

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Gratuitous Matt from P.A. (Haimovitz) shout or peek

Posted on November 2, 2014 by markweiss86

mattfromPA

Matt Haimovitz lived in Palo Alto and was a child prodigy on cello and someone told his parents “you could or should move to New York and train him at Carneghie Hall and Julliard” and so they moved, he was 10, and then around 30 he shucked the yoke of classical and toured smoke filled rooms, as part of the Rope-A-Dope-All-Stars jazz tour, Charlie Hunter, Steven Bernstein, DJ Olive and more.

I tried to book him into a yoga studio here.

I interviewed and even jammed with his cohorts on “Messien: Quartet for the End of Time and Akoka” that played at Lively Arts, for KZSU, Kracky and DJ. Socalled.

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Nina n me

Posted on November 2, 2014 by markweiss86

ninaI said to the rock, please hide me. Lord.

I’ve been listening to Nina Simone, a cd I bought at of all places S_(national chain, coffee, and music, — Don MacKinnon — Plastic Alto don’t play brand name), called “How It Feels to Be Free” 2003 compilation produced by Timothy Jones. I’ve been listening to three tracks especially: track #2, “I Wish I Knew How, It Would Feel To Be Free”;track #7, “I Shall Be Released” –actually a Bob Dylan song and track 14, the final track,
Sinnerman, written by Nina herself, a live recording from 1965 from an album called Pastel Blues, presumable a live album.

And if you are herring my voice live, you are at a soiree in Soth Palo Alto, Barron Park, and you may have been hearing this album, all 14 tracks playing softly as background music, 1 to 4 p.m. on Sunday November 2, 2014, a Mark Weiss for Palo Alto City Council event, two days before the election. If I can produce my own event, at C_’s house, as if it were my day job, an EARthwise Production — I am a concert promoter and artist manager — I would play the music — I brought my own boom box –softly in the ante room, while the Niners-Rams play on mute. We had decided we would screen the Niners but not encourage people to follow that too closely. And just for reference, I will be reading formally, a speech working title “What Would Perry Do?” or maybe since it’s a football Sunday, “What Would Niner Do?” – I’ll stick with Peery — twice, at 1:30 and 3:30, the event is 1 to 4.

In my fantasy world, like Rupert Pupkin perhaps, I start out by singing that one line: And I said to the rock, please hide me. I said to the rock, lord, please hide me. And people sing along, or clap and it is a warm up and prologue.

I’d like to outro with “strawberry fields forever”.

Maya Angelou

On the Pulse of Morning

Bill Clinton

Eric Hanson

New Jersey Performing Arts Center

Newark New Jersey

lady I met in Newark, likes math

Allen Ginsberg

Walt Whitman

Evan Sokol

Steve Lacy

Pat Stoeck, on Chimalus. Agnes and Aldo, Lillian Marcus, Art and Ani Liberman, Eric Rulifson, Marianne Raleigh, Edwin Puris, Blair Wynn, John Chovanec,

Andrew Jacobson, Cameron McIlfresh,Scott Rothstein, paul and ej Hong, the balloon lady Marie Mandoli and “Shay-lah”, Mike and Patti Kriegal, Caroline Camhy — Sam and Michael Rothstein, Julie Williams, Tom Farley, Munchie Farley? Dan Adams and Star Teachout, FELIZ — Zander, Leo and Felix Adams, The Skelley’s, the Israeli tech couple and their dog that rent the former Skelly home, on Whitsell, Terry’s friend the daughter of the famous music teacher and art teacher, the guy who fed the donkey, Winter Deffenback and Gerry Mastaller, Marianne Chowning Dray, Dr. Dray, back in the day Katy Jacobs lived here, Cary Milia, (who I thought was Gary Miller), Gary Kremen, Bern King and Gere King, Robbie And David, what was my mnemonic device for recognizing which King wears jeans versus shorts? — Rune and Lilligul Oslund, Nick and Judy Larsen and his dome but they are big in Japan

I also met Sandy Keck Adams this morning, she is the mother in law of our mayor Peter Drekmeier, who told C_ he would come except for the fact that Dr. Amy Adams, MD/Phd is hosting a party for her Harvard pal — I am blanking the name, something about “Working Stiffs” I in some ways would either quoting Elvis Costello or Pink Floyd would rather be there, wish I was there, not here.

No, thank you all for coming. This could make a difference. As Margaret Mead says: don’t underestimate the ability of a small group of people to change the world. It is the only thing that actually does.

(I mean to write a 1,000 word address, which if I read 200 words per minute would be five minutes?)

Check with Alice chinese at 11 re 12 or 1230 pickup.

8888, sounds good to me. If it does not land on 8888 votes maybe I’ve spoken to 8 thousand people since July.

The average person in this race is spending $25,000 I have spent closer to $500, or Terry did and I reimbursed her. I’m gonna win on a cost-basis.

Somewhere in an earlier version of this, in my head, I was referencing Richard Serra “to fold, to shape” about this and my actions, or how being on the ballot, on a campaign, shaped my actions these 120 or so days. I wrote more than 100 posts since then.

We have the right to work. We may not have the right to see the results of our work. Vedantic philosophy or “chaos theory”.

Redshift of universe, doppler effect, universe is expanding.
Heisenberg uncertainty. we cannot know location and speed, or anything,

Brian Swimme universe is a story not a place.

Sapir worf — our words create the universe.

Lisa Fay Beatty “save me yeah” mudwimin.

parallel universe theory the eels mark E. Mark Everett Oliver.

Paul J Cohen continuum hypothesis, Reimann. (ree – mon)

Bob Marley ob-ob-a-zerving the hypocrites mingling with the fine people we meet, in a government yard, in Kingston, making corned beef stew of which i’d share with you. my feet are my only carriage.

The main point: bottom line at word 865 or worse: (not Michael McFaul reference, not George Packer Unwinding or Nancy Packer endorsed me reference, BLUF bottom line up front) there is a moral vacuum here: we should have resolved Buena Vista as a byproduct of conducting this campaign and election. We the People or our leadership and the fact that I have to make the distinction or break that down is part and parcel of the problem — leadership should reach out grab the hand of the owner, Jisser, and the bank bona fide offer, produced by Winter — though i’ve done no diligence — and made the two sides meet (gestures with hands)

and 1: and this is from July, before I had pulled papers:
Shame on local leadership for silence on Buena Vista
Posted on July 21, 2014 by markweiss86
Posted by Mark Weiss, a resident of Barron Park
0 minutes ago
Kudos to Winter Dellenbach for her compassion and diligence and tenacity here.

Shame on local leadership — Council, commissioners and staff — for not doing more to broker a deal along the lines that Winter indicates. I would think converting the park from a group of disorganized renters to an HOA would entail a significant improvement to the site from a physical standpoint.

I thought it notable and slightly confounding that there was disconnect and dissonance between the referendum at Maybell and the defense of our neighbors at Buena Vista. I would think in both cases the principle is stopping greedy interests acting in their own interests but adverse to everybody else. People I like and respect were For D AND passionate about saving the park, for instance — Nancy Krop comes to mind. And there are plenty of Against D who haven’t said boo about BV.

The deal offered Jisser would be a reasonable profit for him. Why he is entitled to maximize his profit, especially given the externalities?

It is notable that GS reports that Palo Alto Housing Corp would have worked with Prometheus to develop the property but have not apparently figured out a way to help the BV residents organize and defend or buy their homes.

This is another good litmus test for the upcoming Palo Alto City Council candidates.

By the way I think discourse would be improved considerably if more than 5 of the first 55 posters here would do so under their full names.

Lastly, is there someone living at BV who wants to step up and run for Council? We need more residentialist and opposition candidates.

By the way, is it time for a Rent Board or Tenants Union here and not just a pro-landlord “mandatory mediation process”?

edita, 2 p.m. a break from the action: Carter Family, 1920s white people version of this, source material:
Sister Mary, she wears a golden chain There’s every link in Jesus’ name There’s no hiding place down here There’s no hiding place down here Well, i run to the rocks to hide my face And the rocks cried out, “No hiding place!” There’s no hiding place down here I’ll pitch my tent on the old campground I’ll give Old Satan one more round There’s no hiding place down here Oh, the Devil wears a hypocrite shoe And if you don’t watch, he’ll slip it on you There’s no hiding place down here

edit to add, months later: our sister city is Tsuchiura

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I say “Boom, Boom” Pat Travers say “out go lights”

Posted on November 1, 2014 by markweiss86

Pat Travers is or was a Canadian blues rocker who released a live album in 1979, my freshman year at Gunn, that included a cover of the Little Walter song “Boom Boom”.

Did this become a Gunn football or basketball chant or just something people played at keggers and shouted
I SAY BOOM BOOM
YOU SAY OUT GO THE LIGHTS

BOOM BOOM

OUT GO THE LIGHTS

I actually yelled that last night at Gunn homecoming, moments after an electrifying 80 yard catch and run by Israeli-American Guy Kasznik, giving Gunn a lead, against Lynbrook, in an eventual rare victory. I yelled “boom boom” to no answer. The students were working something a bit more contemporary if not as topical (the lights went out for 30 minutes ala something in the World Series and Super Bowl we all saw recently, I will suss up later).

I had a field pass and Guy Kasznik stepped on the sideline not 10 feet from me, but it’s cool since he was held running under a sure touchdown last week. I also yelled “shabbat shalom” while standsing at the end of the first half, a few more broken tackles and prelude to his half 2 heroics.

Touchdown 3-pete man Guy Kasznik of Gunn, #81 greeted post score by Schuyler Son

Touchdown 3-pete man Guy Kasznik of Gunn, #81 greeted post score by Craig Ching

That is pretty fucking legendary, a long touchdown run, breaking several tackles and the stadium lights go out? Between the touchdown and the PAT? I did hear Tom Jaboubosky and Dean Lubbe muttering something is wrong with the lights moments before the blast or black out.

So if Glenn Bill “Max” McGee earns his moniker for intramural “Fayerweather” exploits at Dartmouth in the seventies, Guy Kasznik should be GFWYN “gif-win” for Go For What You Know a Pat Travers reference for this.

Henaini? Any body?
(as in, the guy says to the coach, “here i am, send me”)

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Two-tone Titans triumph

Posted on November 1, 2014 by markweiss86

Gunn football rode four electrifying touchdowns from receiver Guy Kasznik (#81) and running back Nozo Imanaka (#21) to defeat a pesky Lynbrook team Friday night in South-West Palo Alto, 28-19.

Kasznik hauled in Noah Riley tosses of 45, 56 and 74 yards, reminiscent of John Chovanec against Santa Clara a then-record SCVAL 227 yards in 1981. An Imanacka ground blast, on a fourth-down red-zone play sealed the win in the fourth quarter.

An oddity or omen, depending on your spiritual ilk or knowledge of Farmer’s Physics is a stadium power outage that seemed queerly timed to the third Kasznik trot, that stopped action for nearly 30 minutes. Wags joked that the event was a deliberate ground-rule maneuver to give the Titans, eight of whom perform two-way, time to suck air.

Coach Shinichi Hirano was elated after the game. Well, I think I noticed a smile.

(Insert Gordon Kass quotes here, courtesy of Palo Alto Daily News, a branch of the San Jose Mercury but not a Knight Ridder paper, nor even close).

And do note here, since this is an arts column and obsessed with post-modernisms and meta-issues, that Palo Alto Weekly did not send a reporter to the Gunn tilt, which was also homecoming and attended by nearly 1,000 fans, although they did send Keith Peters and his camera to Castilleja ladies water polo earlier in the week. Enough, aldrete!

Kasznik, also reputed to be a fine association rules and athletics man (soccer and track for you plebians and web-surfers), is finding a fine form in the second half of the campaign, after missing the first several games; he injured his back attending a Buddy Teevans football camp in Hanover, New Hampshire in July; speculators, recruiters, touts and gossips say that guy is a fine student, the son of a Stanford GSB statistics professor and is hoping to catch on at either Dartmouth or Brown, of the Ancient Eight.

Meanwhile, newby PAUSD prexy, a Dartmouth man himself Glenn Bill “Max” McGee (but not the Packers Super Bowl hero) was seen leading the cheering section for the 650s. McGee although well-groomed also expressed interest in checking out a barbershop in Midtown where homeboys of actual Packer receiver (and Paly grad) Davante Adams cut heads wearing a Green-and-yellow NFL replica jersey. The cut is $20 — yours truly, Sphinx Fitzwater for Plastic Alto and maybe those fucks at the Weekly, excuse the French, rocks one — but if you say “make mine a cheese-head like ‘Vant'” it is a sawbuck –fittingly, that — or if you are Mike Cobb a former mayor whose office is nearby, as is that of Roger Kohler the commissioner, it is free, or pre-paid by an anonymous “agitator”.

Other standouts for the Titans this season, and I, for the first time in 30 years have seen all seven clashes, include: Dietrich Sweat (#42), Andrew Maltz (#74), Max Chiew (#25) Jarrod Bibo (#30 although he missed last night’s game with a pre-existing condition), Fred Li (#50), Jonah Weger (#55 I think, although I am pretty weak on the interior line play, but first Matt Maltz and then Shinichi Hirano and Gordon Kass noticed and affirmed that one of the keys to success against Lynbrook was an imbalanced line, especially in the second half, putting more men on one side of the center than the other, especially as Lynbrook “had 9 or 10 men in the box”, “our version I mean your version of the old USC ‘student body right’ right?” I suggested; Hirano also stated that on defense he stopped blitzing and had his guys react to play not try to force it, prudent but wining strategy), number eleven (#11) a mid-season bolster, whose name I didn’t quite catch, a Pacific catch, you might say, I will add at bottom, made a stick or sack at a crucial juncture, somewhere around 6-feet 190 or 10-stone; Sharod Miller (#80, but injured Friday — The Titans suited 18 and 15 got in the game, and that after promoting a couple frosh-soph guys mid-season after losing to a cracked fibula lower leg bone Forrest “Bubba” Larson number 15); Rothstein of the Barron Park by way of Long Island Rothsteins — but not the Black Sox Rothsteins, a promising sophomore linebacker lost to a broken hand and delicate screw insertion procedure; Schuler Son the punter, who is somewhere between Guy and Ray Guy; Etienne Daadi (somewhere in the 20s) — okay, that’s 12 of the 18.

I wrote above that Gunn Titans have to be the best 965th ranked team in the nation. I would venture they are the best 1-7 team in the CCS, maybe all-time.

I asked Coach Hirano the prospects of running the table with Mountain View and Los Altos — traditional Gunn SCVAL rivalries, all relegated to the cushier “El Camino” tract — and he wouldn’t make any Joe Namath-type predictions but something in his eyes have me believing that these lads, having tasted blood might put it all together in stretches of 48-minutes, as compared to 46- or 45-minutes like against Carlmont and Prospect and pull another W out of the crisp fall night air. Or is their a day game coming?

Somewhere in this chronicle I hope to quote from and not just shout out to Steve Almond a successor of mine at helm of the Gunn Oracle and his anti-football tome. I nearly procured a paper back copy of Bill Walsh “Genius” but want to verify that I don’t already owned a signed copy hard. I saw “When the Game Stood Tall” twice which is what launched this odyssey, and my inner Chris Ryan. (I have the Neil Hayes book version and only got far enough to affirm that “Chris Ryan” is a white-version of Maurice Jones Drew whereas MJD in the movie plays a cameo of himself and ghost-of-touchdowns future). The Hollywood version of “Eighteen Angry Men” would definitely have a Greg Barber character, the old sage on the sidelines suggesting tweaks for the skill positions.

Gunn is 1 and 7 but I would bet these young men and their families are strutting around town this weekend and next week as if they are 4 and 3.

I broke one of my rules in that, although I didn’t campaign, I said hello to Maltz as he stood by me on the sidelines. “Andrew, I am a friend of your fathers; we met at the supermarket, (the 15-year old and the 48-year-old, I had met the dad in sixth grade at Fremont Hills) Your dad and I played side-by-side at Terman, he at guard me at tackle (I gestured with my forearms). Andrew struck out a gloved hand, shook mine and then said “Excuse me” and ran onto the field for the extra point, good by Riley, an even 21 after the lights re-ignited.

I tried a similar thing to Jarrod Bibo and confirmed that that was father (Another Gunn ’82, on the golf team) and Gramma last week at Homestead. I told Rothstein who was making himself useful as a ball boy, to say encouraging things to his teammates, to help pull out the win. At a certain point, at the end of the halftime and float festivities, a lady asked me, looking pseudo-official with a gunn but not CCS field pass, to ask the P.A. announcer to thank a woman volunteer for “17 years as a chain-carrier” and they did, thanks to a young Master Kaplan I think was his name. I also spoke to that Eleven and said “good play, Titan”. Heretofore for seven weeks, beyond what trivial or chaotic effect I might have had checking in with Hirano win or lose each week, I had tried to thwart The Observor Effect, I did not want writing about the game or season to influence the outcome. There is no cheering in the press box, Rick LaPlante told me, in 1984 and I honored that outside of a few “fuck”s and “shit”s muttered and then half-swallowed and maybe one or two fewer “yes!” under my breath. And I did high-five Mr. Riley after the first Riley-to-Kascnik, after another man did. (It took me seven weeks to match Noah and his dad to David Riley, class of 2006 a tall basketball guard who, as I recalled, apocryphal or not I saw go 10-for-10 and with a silky touch. His dad said he is now enshrined as an all-time great at Whitworth of Spokane, which is a Christian school to boot).

I also asked Dr. Kasznik (he of the gratuitous yud) if I could run his photos of any action under this banner and explained in more detail my “Monroe Trout…David T. McLaughlin” riff.

I also wrote and then deleted a letter to the universe suggesting math teacher and Princeton grad Chris Redfield, who won more than 100 games AND A CHAMPIONSHIP, IN 2009, 28 YEARS AFTER WE DID in six seasons in Bob Bow Gym would be the next Superintendent if Max maxes out. He said math, father of four and golf is plenty on his plate. I introduced him to Matt Maltz, little schmoozer weaver that I am, and wished him well in CCS for his ladies, including Anna Zhou who is bound for Harvard.

Rumor is that Pizza Chicago served 18 portions post game of a special pie sprinkled with Eagle and Spartan. Such are the stuff of South Palo Alto dreams. Isn’t it pretty to think so. Or, I say boom boom you say: OUT GO THE LIGHTS.

And then outro to not Madness “Our House” but Rancid “Time Bomb”.

Eighteen Angry Men or Fine Young Cannibals:

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Mark Weiss the Frederick Douglass agitator type

Posted on October 30, 2014 by markweiss86

Frederick Douglass daguerretype in collection of Chicago Art Institute

Frederick Douglass daguerretype in collection of Chicago Art Institute


John Fredrich, candidate for member, Palo Alto City Council and a retired Gunn High School of Palo Alto social studies teacher, suggests that rather than thinking of Andrew Goodman the martyred “outside agitator” when Bill Johnson real estate investor and real estate rag publisher calls me “The Agitator”, that rather I should recall Frederick Douglass, the antislavery activist.

John Fredrich Douglass sounds like a project.

Thanks, John. Thank you Mr. Douglass.

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Go, Dohatsuten, Giants

Posted on October 29, 2014 by markweiss86

With

    Photo and reading by tif

    Photo and reading by tif

    a 3-2 lead and Mad Bum getting loose I shook off my catcher and signaled brothy pork ramen from Dohatsuten on St Ants only 9 min walk from Fred hello Laura Stec dive bar preview. Terry now texts me to join me. Meanwhile Tif slides me a ooh-mamma/ DUDE! bowl and snapped or tapped this semi sefry.

    Bonus points if someone saves me from searching Giants Nippon bullpennsensi circa 1965. Wanna say Mayoni Matsumoto
    edit to add: try masanori murakami
    Murakami

    and 1: leah garchik had something about ad man Bob Gardner thinking of himself as Madison Bobgardner which made me want to ring her about my visit with legendary ad man Dan Mountain this July in Venice, CA and watching with him in his home a few innings of Clayton Kershaw and the Dodgers on tv. The year I entered the ad game, 1988 Dan won the Howard Gossage Award as top copywriter in SF and therefore the world. That same year I gave Jeff Goodby a mock award, the Goose Gossage Award: a 1975 Topps card of the ChiSox hurler, mounted and with handwritten copy “Trapped in this plastic sheath I empathize with the unemployed junior copywriters of the world”. By 1992, like Mark Fidrych, and Sid Finch, I was a flash in the pan in SF ad circles and drifted back to the peninsula, eventually opting to go Earthwise.

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