Happy birthday to me from Palo Alto’s Finest

Posted on January 28, 2012 by markweiss86

Today is my birthday but so far the only present I have received is a $46 parking ticket from Palo Alto Police Agent David Lee.
My car was packed at Lytton Plaza because I have been pretty much working around the clock since Wedesday on the issue of First Amendment rights, music, noise ordinances and a bogus staff report suggesting we ban amplifiers willy-nilly.
For instance, at about 9:55 a.m. I spoke with Barbara, who is Chief Dennis Burns’ administrative assistant, to try to get clarification on incidents that happened Wednesday afternoon at Lytton. I have not heard from Dennis but I did get a quick response from Captain Ron Watson. I missed his first call, within the hour — because I was in Dr. Jordanna Finnegan’s literature class “Poverty and Inequality in America” at Foothill, but called him back around 11 and we spoke for about 20 minutes and compared views on the situation and issues.
The night before I traded voice mails with Deirdre Crommie, whose brother in law Derek Stafford I recall as a Gunn baseball star, who is responding to the staff report as part of her duties at Parks and Recreation commissioner, along with Pat Markevitch and Ed Laiung. Pat and I, along with Sue Webb, who is the Rosa Parks of Lytton Plaza, talked from by cell Wednesday night, and then Pat and I had an impromptu meeting in front of the bank building where Palo Alto Downtown was discussing the item Thursday morning.
Russ Cohen, the PADBID’s $70,000 a year mouthpiece and I enjoyed a lively talk about slide-guitar, public art and the First Amendment, while I was sitting in the same soon-to-be-offensively parked car, for about 20 minutes around 6 p.m.

I left my car parked at the Plaza, 500 Emerson block, at University, next to “Digital DNA” by Maltz and Varela, and walked home; I live in downtown North. I left the car there because I was intending to return after dinner and sit in with Sue Webb’s jam session.
But my girlfriend — the homeowner and arts commissioner — persuaded me to snuggle in front of the tv — we actually watched the German version of the Ron Jones Cubberley “The Wave” story — about “autocracy” — and after walking the dog, she and Frida drove me back to fetch my buggy.

I was actually pulling out — Terry went through the green light — when two officers tapped on my hood and asked me to re-park. Agent David Lee and his fellow public servant said that they had tried to phone me but had no luck. I realized soon enough that at 5 p.m. I had parked somewhere that at 11 p.m. becomes a taxi stand. I was vaguely aware of the general concept but not the specifics since I don’t drink that much in public and I live within blocks of downtown. I rarely use those cabs.

I offered a version of the above to the two officers, as much for my amusement as curiosity to what it would get me. I thanked the officers for their service to our community. I asked how much this would cost me and Agent Lee replied, as it is written on the sheet, $46.

One way to look at it: it cost me $46 for all that I learned to today talking with public officials and public safety about this issue. It’s like a tuition.

And it could have been worse: he said he cancelled the tow truck he had called to remove me; I might have had to pay the tow and stow fee.

On the other hand, since he had not actually written the ticket when I had pulled out of the space, he could have let me go with a warning. I’ve said several times to various people in varying wordings: the amount of staff time and civilian time spent reacting to what is basically the case of a very few individuals — at the Jan. 4 meeting I was in a member of the Friends of Lytton Plaza who is also a former commissioner said it is only two people who support this “draft ordinance” — two very powerful people with seemingly magic ability to get staff and public safety to turn their words into action — turned into bad prospective or actual if not de jure public policy. So on top of about 20 hours I’ve put into this round of Lytton Plaza For The People Not Just The Business, I am $46 in the hole.

I think the taxi stand is a good idea if it saves drunkards from trying to drive. On the other hand, at 12:30 there were about ten taxis lined up and parked on both sides of street– I forgot to count if they were all facing the proper direction or following the parallel versus diagonal suggestions — and no drunkards — so although Agent Lee implied that he had given me a 90 minute grace period, practically speaking my car was not really in the way and would not have been until after last call when, and I can only take their word on it, there is a run on taxis and it can get pretty dicey.

But in this case Agent David Lee was working for the taxi companies, the landlords and the pubs and not for me or you my neighbors and voters and taxpayers and citizens of Palo Alto.

So if Agent David Lee thinks, or is instructed to milk citizens like me for every $46 he is probably also costing us in public relations, good will and other externalities. In the same way I, ironically, oppossed Measure D on the grounds that by attacking public safety collective bargaining rights we could end up getting less for each dollar we pay to (potentially disgruntled) public safety.

Also, and ironically, as we discussed John Steinbeck’s “Tortilla Flat” in Dr. Finnegan’s Foothill class today, I compared a scene in that book to the fact that at Occupy movements the people are asking Police to change sides and march with the rest of the working class. But, and I heard this on NPR or KPFA, a spokesperson from PR Watch in Madison, police seem more likely to consider dissent a form of violence than the did in previous recent history and California police, such as in Davis — and apparently their counterparts in Arizona – are quicker to use pepper spray than the they do Wisconsin.

My citation number is 50567 if anyone who bought pizza to support Paly High Wednesday — Sue Webb, Joel Betts and I, afraid to make music in Lytton after being misinformed by this same Agent Lee and his normal partner Kono about the enforceability of the proposed ban on amplifiers and something about “permits” spent 30 minutes imploring passersby by talk mikes only to “support Paly, buy Pizza” — identifies so greatly with my plight or my actions. I will hold off paying this for a few days — I think you can, hypothetical helpers — just walk up and offer over say $20 to the nice people at 250 Hamilton and say “I want to help pay down citation 50567” and hand over your money.  Thanks (and this, from the guy who would not take donations when I ran for City Council in 2009; I will edit to add to see if clerks will actually take amicus or third party donations on this.

I won’t fight this per se.

My main point is that our existing ordinance is fine. The proposed ban on amplifiers is like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. The staff report weighs a small set of individuals views more than the input of the citizens and commissioners. Sue Webb deserves a Mayoral Proclamation rather than to be made to cry by boys in blue. And I think we should work to educate our neighbors about public safety and their unions to repeal Measure D and maybe then we would get — and we should demand — the highest standards of conduct and performance from our employees, civil servants and public safety.

Posted in Plato's Republic, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Hello, Gunn genius Jin Pan

Posted on January 26, 2012 by markweiss86

I am dedicating this quirky version (or can I say “quarky version?”) of the famous old song “Hello, My Baby” to Henry M. Gunn High senior Jin Pan, a finalist in the prestigious Intel Talent Seach contest, for science.

My understanding is that the Intel Contest was formerly known as the Westinghouse Contest. I heard this from Charles, Steven and Eric Cohen — fellow Gunn grads — whose father Paul J. Cohen won the contest years ago, and went on to win a Fields Prize. (This came up apropos of writing here, below, about Evan O’Dorney of Danville).

Now of course I wonder, brilliant, yes, but can he play? (Music). I am guessing, yes. And if Amy Chow (gymnastics) and Ladoris Cordell (law) can give music recitals, so should our Jin Pan. And if he is willing to play on Ramona Street between Gore Mansour and what used to be Rainbow Ice Cream, I will lead the band in terms of having that site renamed Jin Pan Alley.

outro with another weird crowd-sourced version of “Hello…”, from 1899, an was recorded not by Intel or Westinghouse but on an Edison 5470:

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Crush Rigo Head

Posted on January 24, 2012 by markweiss86

I am a big fan of Rigo.
I met him a couple years ago when I was helping Charles Linder. I had borrowed my dad’s Mitsubishi van to help Charles and Rigo move a bunch of panels that were part of a pubic art installation on Market in SF. What is notable about that day is that the three of us were sitting in Muddy Waters cafe in the Mission and Charles jumped up screaming “that’s my bike” and ran out the door. I ran for the van and pulled a U-ey and caught up to Charles –at full sprint — and a bicyclist a couple hundred yards up (south) Mission. I cut the bike off just as Charles had overtaken the rider. Charles grabbed the bike by the handlebars and said “This is my bike!”. He pulled about 50 dollars from his wallet and forced the exchange on the biker, who said he had bought at a flea market. The bike was handmade of zinc. It took an amazing combination of an artist’s eye and an athletes prowess to recover the bike like that — Charles had told me previously that he was a state finalist in high school track back in Alabama.

I dig the “one tree” and the “innercity home” Rigo stuff. I actually didn’t realize until it had been installed for a couple years and I finally sought it out that the San Jose State tribute to the 1968 Olympics — black gloves — was by Rigo.

Terry bought me a box set of Rigo chapbooks.

A recent trip to SFMOMA, maybe to see the Richard Serras, I caught about two minutes of this Rigo interview. Would love to see more of his work.

I saw a print of a similar shot of this at Pacific Art League and pulled this from my cell, from months prior:

edit to add, after blowing another half hour bouncing around or sufring:

I got a snap shot of the emerging art scene by hanging out at Charles Linder’s Refusalon, on Natoma, in the early 1990s, directly before starting Earthwise Productions as a concert entity, transitioning out of ad agency mindset. I recall Charles L came to an early show, maybe the Mudwimin.  But I only met Charles Linder because a former ad agency colleague set me up on a date with Jennifer Goldman whose brother Charles Goldman organized a show at Refusalon; it says that was 1994. Charles Goldman designed the first Earthwise logo, for a set of notecards that I had the press run twice because they printed it glossy when I wanted matte: I am still getting rid of those. Goldman deserves the full Plastic Alto treatment someday. (I remember taking Jennifer Goldman to the Prawn Song launch party so I guess I was sort of tracking music — more about I had met Lane Wurster randomly in 1991 than I was researching the local music scene).

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Jurassic 5 meets Tortilla Phlat

Posted on January 23, 2012 by markweiss86

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2pNVAzIhF4

OR, WHERE CHALI CAME IN BEARING A BAG OF MACKERELS
When Chali 2na (“Charlie Tuna”, Charles Stewart to some — news 2 me — not the fictional animated corporate pitchman, but a very real larger than life rapper, writer activist and band leader) spits, on his 2000 Interscope release “Quality Control” in track #2, “The Influence” “easily, 2na be, cleverly” (swelling his treasury), I naturally, Weissily, stupidly, wish- and wistfully heard “easily, tunily, CUBBERLEY” blah blah blah (as opposed to bee bee bah).

I was promoting all kinds of acts at the defunct high school theatre and multi-purpose room. Ozomatli, Chali 2na’s other vehicle had just played the theatre. The auditorium, where Cake, blink 182 and Broun Fellinis all played, did host some hip hop. I caught at a Japanese cultural event Shing02 playing a matinee under the name Terra Cotta Troops. I booked, because of my relationship with Bay Area Action stalwart Heru Hall, recently profiled in The Palo Alto Weekly, something called Black Male Renaissance Project (BMRP) of East Palo Alto, including an act called Whichicallit and Dem. (That was the kind of show wherein anybody that was part of the draw was also on the guest list; if you knew who was playing or at least could claim you knew someone who knew someone who knew (or was related, by birth, surrogate or by “it takes a village) someone, you were in, saving the five dollars, and you got a free poster, which cost me about two dollars a pop — it featured (euphemism for “I stole it”) the famous Miles Davis photo, that Joey Piziali recently helped me remember, because I asked him about the stencil art, near his mural, on Cali (not Chali) Ave, here. (Actually, “here” here right this minute — 12:58 on Monday, January 23, 2012 — means that same Cubberley — I am writing this on a public computer, at the temporary Palo Alto library, in the old high school auditorium, where John Neumann and Andy Zenoff and I once went to a high school dance, and yes, I am within fifty feet of the stage that the above-stated rappers and rockers, well, rocked.

I found in a pile, in a box, in a storage locker, not the jewel case just the disc, the Jurassic 5 bomb, my one and one-ly, and played that bit for the first time in a few years. And then, of course, found the video and lyrics for the first time.

I thought of this in reference to my study of John Steinbeck’s “Tortilla Flat” — Tortilla Phlat I call it above, yo — and the fellowship of the subculture of men in this case and their pursuit of not the Holy Grail but what’s inside, as Stew would say, or The Beatles’ “Revolver”, the wine.

I just came back from making a 45 minute presentation with my group: Penka, Eli, Milena and me. We rocked it! Jurassic 5 claims, in track #1, that they can rock it without a rehearsal, but we actually rehearsed — this was our firstiest hit. My girlfriend — that’s no lady — bought me a Foster’s 40 for the 49ers game but I punted it in deference to my gig. It was an interesting group: we come from four different continents and speak between us seven languages, and it took some doing to learn, indeed, to rif off each other and build and not compete. That Penka is a concert pianist, and Milena sings in a cover band — and writes her own stuff, she says — and I, of course, sang once — twice even, with the Foothill Chorus, made me want to work up a few songs –like a group sing of Sublime’s “What I Got” but we will have to wait for a command encore or something. But there was definitely and undeniably a group dynamic that we worked on and worked up. And it worked! In my mind and our minds, regardless if The State could feel us truly. Truly, easily, tunily, Foothilly, rock-abilly, Bah dah dah dah dee dee dee dee and all that.

But don’t take my word on it, C 4 your shelf:

http://www.amazon.com/Quality-Control-Jurassic-5/dp/B00004THKW

 

Posted in ethniceities, music, Plato's Republic, sex, Uncategorized, words | 1 Comment

Travels with Frida

Posted on January 23, 2012 by markweiss86

and a Spaniel riding shot-gun

The clubhouse manager of my apartment complex told me Christmas Eve that I could come back in the morning and commandeer The New York Times, which would otherwise sit all day or be wasted. Because I don’t actually live in my apartment –long story — I woke up on December 25, 2012 and loaded my dear friend Frida (the cocker spaniel) into the car and zipped back to Oak Creek, about three miles. I thought: what a perfect Christmas present for this non-Christian! But I was slightly meshuganah in that out of the 700 residents of my complex someone else got up earlier and beat me to the prize.

I then realized that my gift that morning was my friendship with or moment with Frida. (My girlfriend had to work that day and had left a couple hours earlier).

Better to travel hopefully especially with a cocker spaniel than to arrive…

Foreshadowing my Steinbeck project….

Or did I make all this up?

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3 Short Posts about Jason Mraz, SF Public Press and Dr. Dawn Norfleet jazz

Posted on January 20, 2012 by markweiss86

Rushing back to my secret (wired) hideout to prepare for a presentation Monday on Steinbeck’s “Tortilla Flat”, I wrote in my head two short posts for “Plastic Alto.” But then, and only because I have known Matt Nathanson since he was in short pants, I listened to the final two minutes of a song to hear it back announced. It was “I Won’t Give Up” by Jason Mraz. All I can say about Jason Mraz is that he was said to worship Stew when Stew was my client and was a nobody (which is redundant: aren’t all my clients nobodys?) and I wonder if he is related to jazz bassist George Mraz. The video about has five million plays while Matt’s biggest hit has a mere 3.5 million plays.

II.

Spoke for about 24 minutes and 16 seconds to Michael Stoll the executive director of the group that puts out San Francisco Public Press reader-supported ad-free newspaper. We spoke about the “diminution” of the fourth estate: Bagdikian, Chomsky, “Page One”, Project Censored, Jeff Adachi, Matt Gonzalez and David Eggers –he asked me about David Bergin, who I don’t know. Also: Anne Grimes of Stanford communications.

When I get a minute —

He said it is not Palo Alto but they made a video about Redwood City salt flats, climate best by government test:

I thought this video was informative if a little timid about calling a spade a spade or a backhoe a backhoe; there is considerable pressure by powerful entities to milk huge profits out of desirable bay front property, and lip service to doing so in a smart or environmental manner. I thought the photos by Ian Nemuda were excellent and the music by a cadre of what seem to be local or indie new age or classical composers. When I get a minute — and I was interrupted for at least an hour by a call, above – I look forward to reading San Francisco Public Press and coresponding with Mr. Stoll, as appropriate. (Now back to Monterey and “Tortilla Flat” — good thing Cargill didn’t get their grubby paws on it).

The vid:

III:

I spoke to jazz musician, educator and tall drink of water Dr. Dawn Norfleet for about two minutes and 20 seconds yesterday. She was driving. We are both too busy to resume the interview other than to say she has three big and differing gigs if you are in LA and need some jazz. I met Dr. Dawn at IAJE which tells you how long ago that was since IAJE is a defunct organization, hopefully replaced by something a little more defunctier. As I recall she is a Wellesley and Columbia grad – I recall meeting USC/Wellesley doubler Tierney Sutton in the same setting or sitting — and her plethora of current projects include educational outreach to children, the World Stage of LA, Andy Milne, friends of Michael Jackson and The Grammy’s – a whole plethora of good stuff. You go, girl! I mean, proceed, Doctor!

(I was going to ask her if people confuse her with Denny Zeitlin. Or Dr. Billy Taylor. Or who are your influences? How tall are you? Who does your hair? Monk or Mingus? That kind of thing. TBC)

Ok, back to “Tortilla Flat” which rumor says is soon to be a James Franco vehichle, as it bridges “Pineapple Express” with “Your Highness” (plus the Steinbeck angle fits in with his Ginsberg and his Hart Crane).

edit to add at 4:20 on a Friday which for me means walk the dog and hit the books, sorry, Charlie.

Posted in la la, music, sex, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

I (heart) Clare Rojas

Posted on January 20, 2012 by markweiss86

Clare Rojas did this (detail)

I was the nerd who gave Clare Rojas a purple rose of friendship at the opening event at Paule Anglim Gallery.

Clare told me that she was not actively pursuing her music activities but that she had recently posted new music under the name Peggy Honeywell. The gallery supposedly links to it.
I enjoyed meeting and not to gossip someone who I think is her partner, the painter known as Barry McGee. He said he wants a commission to tag the Palo Alto Caltrain station. On it, bro.

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John Edward Buchanan, Jr (1938- 30 December 2011)

Posted on January 18, 2012 by markweiss86

The mass of  people who gathered Wednesday at San Francisco’s glorious Grace Cathedral, for the Requiem Eucharist for John Buchanan, were given a small print of one of the Venetian masterworks currently on view in the flesh at the Legion of Honor — canvas is flesh, you bet your sweet tuckas it is; and oil is blood, of a sort. Does a tube not bleed if it is pricked?  The Very Reverend Dr. Jane Shaw presiding recalled Buchanan and his talent for provoking thought and wonder about art, rather than lecturing or dictating or pontificating about art (or running on, as I do). She suggested, for example, that he would have or did ask whether the dark area (not pictured above; the image above is a detail; the crop was done on the De Young website — sister institution to the Legion – they were both under Buchanan’s tutelage) was a reference to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. I was just telling a very learned and experienced and committed new friend about the concept — the cave concept — so that part resonated with me. Or maybe my new friend was just acting like she didn’t know about the cave, so as to let me elaborate?

I recall meeting Legion of Honor curator Lynn Federle Orr last summer at Andrea Fisher Gallery in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Lynn lives in Palo Alto, just a few blocks from my crib. I saw the big write-up in the Pink but have not seen the show. Now I will most def see the show and think about Buchanan and the work – plus they recommend Tintorettos “Suzanne” — the one that mixes nudity and the Bible —  book of Daniel.

I never met John Buchanan but have gotten to know, on behalf of my parents and their Paul E. and Barbara H. Weiss Pueblo Pottery collection, several of Buchanan’s team. My mom used to tell a story about John so graciously and charmingly trying to serve her seconds of the family-style meal they shared at the De Young the day they broke bread together and sealed their deal.

I don’t really speak Episcopalian so some of the finer points were lost on me. I substituted “Lord” for “Christ” and only loud enough to encourage my row, not drown them out. I am saving my first Episcopalian blessing for another event — Lord willing, but made note of what the readers and leaders demonstrated to be the international sign for “I would like a blessing but will skip the communion bread and wine part”. (Meanwhile, it was only natural to briefly flash to my coursework at Foothill College on Steinbeck’s “Tortilla Flat” and the Holy Grail symbol and theme therein, right?).

Meanwhile the vice president of the United States (the VPOTUS?) was across the way at the Mark Hopkins (or did I almost call it the Mark Hopter?) and men in blue were all over, but not enough to scare me and our companion from sneaking into the otherwise closed or restricted Venetian Room and Tonga Room. I asked our companion if she knew many Tongans.

I wore what I feared was a perhaps too gay tie but it was bought for me by my girlfriend TAD from the De Young gift shop — it is supposed to be a Amish design with pinks, purples and blues – at least eight colors, I see, now that I look at it — but Julian Cox the curator gave me his blessings AND the bell hop at the Fairmont complimented me and got almost as big an earful on JEB2 as you my dearly beloved and perhaps also mourning readers.

The four of us went to the Fairmont and ate blue cheese hamburgers and toasted to life, “To Life.”

The Three Philosophers by Giorgio da Castelfranco, called Giorgione, ca. 1509. Oil on canvas. Gemaldegalerie of the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna but on view at SF Fine Arts Museums Palace of Legion of Honor in San Francisco through February.

Posted in art | 2 Comments

Lemon Twist meets Aussie not-green not-bitter; more on The Kent Lockhart Legend

Posted on January 18, 2012 by markweiss86

i made a little chap book with this info, for eric, and then bored Reeves with the story so here goes:

She comes in colors. She’s like a rainbow. This Stones lyric I truly believe is about the mother of my high school basketball teammate Kent Lockhart, Marlinda Fitzgerald. Marlinda was a go-go dancer in LA in the days of the Stones pre-Altamont. They moved to NorCal — marlinda and Kent — in about 1974; he went on to become a high school All America, first team All-WAC for UTEP, drafted by the Knicks in the NBA draft, then went to Australia and was first team all Australia ( and a teammate of future U.S Secretary of Education Arnie Duncan who Kent described recently as “heady” — natch, dude went to Harvard — “left-handed” and “slightly pigeon-toed”) and then became a high school art teacher (as well as a coach, for example for Andrew Bogut of the Milwaukee Bucks). Not that his hoops credentials add any particular credibility to his story, but why would they lie?

The story is that Marlinda was invited to a fancy party but she had to wear this outfit made of little tiny mirrors — maybe they were glued to her skin or just a body suit. And people were I guess tripping on something. So when she made her entrance they shined a spot on her and the little mirrors all refracted — that’s why she was like a rainbow — the writer – keith mick whoever, not muddy waters we presume — was describing the chick with the mirrors outfit or his drug experience.

She also has a story about borrowing tons and tons of boulders from William Randolph Hearst from San Simeon – and he was on horseback — and she ended up using these on her garden at 3134 Greer Road in Palo Alto – Lockhart claims that he, as a teenager had to move and place all these boulders, bigger than basketball, weighing up to 100 pounds each, and that was equivalent to so many hours in the gym weight room. He was a fiercesome specimen – this was way before the era of doping I mean steroids. He probably benched about 350 and he was about 180 to 200 pounds himself, about 6 foot 4. I recall he showed me the spot on is arm where the rim would him him — he could jump six or seven inches above the rim, so that the rim would come to about halfway between palm and elbow and he had just been named MVP of the SF Pro Am league – this was 1988 or so — at Kezar near what is now Amoeba Records — and he said “when I get my leap to HERE” (pointing about halfway between that spot and the elbow — like if he added another inch or two of vertical leap – he was probably around 25 to 30 inches already I would guesss — “they will HAVE TO take me” meaning let him sign a free agent contract. Although he played for Phil Jackson and Cazzie Russell in the US minor leagues and legendary coach Don Harris I mean Don Haskins at UTEP — in his book on “Glory Days” and the first all black national champions Haskins lists Lockhart among his greats all time — and Lock is among the three top players in Palo Alto history, with Jeremy Lin of Palo Alto High who had a cup of green tea with the Warriors recently – the NBA has more teams now than in 1985 — and “Jungle Jim” Luscutoff, another Paly High guy – we, Kent and I, he of the 1700 plus career points and me of a grand total of 4 varsity points – went to Gunn High, the “red and black” — Paly wore or wears green — he never got another look from the NBA and loves it in Australia. He makes folk sculpture reptiles that i am dying to get my hands on one. When Sports Illustrated wrote about the 1984-1985 UTEP team — they were four or top five in the country – they never actually mentioned Kent Lockhart’s position (small forward, shooting guard, 3 or 2 if you follow hoops parlance) but they mentioned Marlinda’s go-go dancing (but not the song) and show one of Kent’s canvasses, rather Klee-esque. After being Pro Am MVP but before opting for Down Under I, being an advertising copywriter haunting North Beach shops, suggested to Kent that he sent little promotional posters of himself — not unlike Eric’s little doodle of the footballer – they call it “gridiron” in Melbourne – Dandenong actually, he works for the Murdoch School named for the mother of the media baron–speaking of Mothers (or in this case “Mother——–s”– I suggested he draw some chickens and say “YOU NEED A 2-GUARD WHO CAN REALLY DRAW FOWLS”. Marlinda said “Listen to him” (meaning me) and “They are not like us” meaning, in this case, if I understand or understood, although it sounded bonkers to Kent maybe I — the Ivy Grad — was right, and it would work.

That’s my story.

Mark Weiss

how much for your “She’s Like a Rainbow” drawing. I mean special price for me?

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Adventures in Potrerolandia

Posted on January 17, 2012 by markweiss86

 

On my way into the City this fine sunny yet cold morning, I shot Richard Serra’s “Ballast” — I was reminded of its existential 160-ton weight on the world by a brochure I got earlier in the month at his big gig at SFMOMA.  The Mission Bay Serra has been here about five years but I never actually saw it until today, seeking it.

Richard Serra "Ballast" near the ballpark

Later, in chapter ten or twelve of my adventures today, I briefly met the artist Carol Selter as she was apparently documenting her own science-and-nature themed-show at Gallery 16. I name-dropped Tony May and added the important fact that he and I share the upcoming birthday of January 28. Then I shot the ultra-sneaky snap of her from outside the gallery, on the steps looking back in.

artist scientist Carol Selter at work

(Both of these episodes took place in SOMA more than Potrero Hill, but I am sticking with my somewhat misleading yet ever so trendy headline, a reference to the IFC Carrie Brownstein Fred Armisen vehicle; I have gotten into at least two conversations about it; once, when the dj Mia^1 (mia to the power of one) said that the Rob Syrett opening, in its minimalist charm, was like “Portlandia” and secondly, there at Gallery 16 when Katy Meacham said she was from Portland before SF).

What drew me into the City and Potrero Hill actually Dogpatch was the chance to meet one of my Chicago correspondents, the playwright and musician Terry Abrahamson, who I first was put in touch with because he wrote a tribute to my former client Stella Brooks, “Jazz Funeral for Stella Brooks.” What I didn’t realize until today is that not only did he know JC Brooks (and that in itself is another weird coincidence that I just noticed, the surnames of Stella and JC who Terry calls “Jason”) but that JC Brooks recorded some of the demos of what became the music for “Jazz Funeral….” Meanwhile, Terry was unclear on “Passing Strange” until I set him straight this a.m. — JC Brooks played the narrator during a recent mounting of “Passing Strange” in Chicago. Today over eggs and crab cake (me; he had sausages) we schemed about trying to bring his sixties paranoia piece “Doo Lister’s Blues” to the Bay Area, even as a one-man show or a staged reading.  Abrahamson also gave me a great line or point-of-view when he said he doubts he will outlive his ideas; he’s prolific and generates more projects than he could possible finish or actualize. Here he is holding a book of his blues photos, which make me want to put him in touch with Jay Blakesburg:

Chicago underground legend Terry Abrahamson at Just For You

This has nothing to do with me, my day or Potrero Hill, but Ramon and Jessica remind me, in this moment, of the lesbian book store skit in “Portlandia.” Here is a quote from their actual press release:

Coda: …and if you’re wondering, Dina is Ramon and Jesse is Jessica

(I met Dina McAbee thru Beth Custer a couple years prior and then sort of bumped into her again recently with Jewlia Eisenberg at the pop up Jewish Music Store in the Mission but my best Ramon and Jessica story or association was how a friend of mine thought their song prolonged the life of their dying hound; I spun the same song once on KZSU).

My photo of Mia and Rob is somehow stuck in my stupid cell, but Rob’s picture of me, next to a piece of his that sold to a local super duper architect, and featuring some balloons donated by the super duper nice people at The Balloon Lady — is that Dogpatch or Sunnyside? — came out, so to speak. They actually donated a cool frog balloon but in my best clown moment it lasted less than two minutes at Caffe Centro before I fed it to the ceiling fan.

 
edit to add, Feb. 7, 2012, about three weeks later: catching up again with Terry Abrahamson, and telling him about this post, I felt bad my photo had a flaw that made him look like a Edgar Bergen colleague, so he sent along a better one:

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