Author: beardandcap

Nailed to the Freekend

We are six games into the 2022 softball season and my Cougar CUBS are playing good ball. Since we came into the season with a new outfield, success was definitely not a given. The squad needs to continue to gel and consistently hit in this division. There are mistakes happening that tracks with a new group getting used to each other but overall they are playing loose and having fun.

It’s been more fun this year. I feel like I’m in better shape physically. Also, last year was a weird partial COVID season, folks playing with masks on. There were less people and teams playing in ’21. Anyway, it’s great to be back at it. I may be in my 50’s but I’m playing with a lot of heart. Ya gotta have heart, miles and miles of heart.

It’s a big seder weekend here. My hubby has one on Friday for his class plus friends and on Saturday his niece is using our deck for an outdoor one. He, in fact has a class scheduled for Sunday. This strikes me as taking on a lot but I’m happy to support him in these endeavors. I also have theatre tickets lined up for the very same Friday and Saturday night. I’m happy being the muscle behind the scenes and a ghost during the supper gatherings. I’m an equal oppurtunity ghost as I don’t show for Easter mass either, fair is fair.

There is a major wrinkle this year with Garry feeling major fatigue the last couple of days. He took a COVID home test today and that turned out alright but he still doesn’t feel great so potentially this could not only cancel his entire weekend but the upcoming trip to the UK. I’ve already set up the bigger dinner table in case he’s feeling better Friday morning. If I could only remember how to pray I might…oh who am I kidding?

Tommorow’s San Francisco weather is calling for sunshine. Bring it.

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Twist My Arm

Sometimes on my lunch break at work, I peek at a few news stories on the web. There was one entertainment article, this past Wednesday that made me stop and read. The Guardian gave a positive review to a staging of Anyone Can Whistle. I forwarded the article along to Garry as we both love Sondheim musicals.

To be clear Whistle is a Sondheim flop. I believe there were nine performances in New York before they brought the stage down for the final time. No one has ever had a full production of it. There have been stage readings of the show. The songs in it are so darn enjoyable and yes the book is somewhere out there in leftfield. The show is either a real novelty or an oddity.

The rest of the day followed along its usual path with the exception of getting a funny email back from my hubby with google flight roundtrip options to the UK. I laughed it off until I got home. He was planted in front of the computer.

Garry’s computer choice is the living room monitor connected to a computer, which is great for visuals but not fun to type on. His eyeballs were on that monitor as I walked in. I felt like Guy Montag in Fahrenheit 451. "Did you get my email?" I smiled, "yes."

On the incredibly zero number of things my husband does impulsively, I can put something real at the top. It’s an achievement deserving a note and a roundtrip to London. His "when am I ever going to get a chance to see this show staged" made perfect sense to me but you don’t have to twist my arm to fly to London and see live theater.

At work, it’s awkward timing all around as two people are having surgical procedures, one is at the end of the month but she’s going to need the month off and the other is in May also with time off attached. June is in inventory (every year) and it’s harder to get approval. If I go it has to be now-ish. Plus, the Sondheim show is only playing this month.

Anyway, we found a flight leaving on the 20th and the seats have extra legroom. I got online and booked two shows: Anyone Can Whistle and The Ocean at the End of the Lane. I’m crossing my fingers and hoping nothing gets canceled. Last night we secured an Airbnb around Russell Square.

Anyone can whistle but it takes an internet search to secure bookings for last second trips.

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No Court Appeal

It was a quiet Friday. Between walking the dog, watching a few tv shows, and packing a few eBay items, this was an extreme low key day. I’ll take it.

Early in the week I didn’t know if I’d be serving on a jury for a criminal case. The case, that involved a stabbing on public transportation, would have gone until mid-April. As a resident of San Francisco for over 20 years, I have done my civic duty before and like a lot of folks, I wasn’t anxious to get on a long trial.

It was close. They were wheedling down the number of potential jurors and they chose a few folks from my group. My bunch was the last and that may have been advantageous. I thought that being the first 12 jurors was lucky because they didn’t end up keeping any. The first few rounds of people to sit, never got a chance to get comfortable. It was non-stop: “Number 6 thank you for your service you are excused.” I was watching a runway of jurors modeling the latest get out of jail smiles. As they left I imagine each skipping in the middle of the street, laughing maniacally as they dodged traffic. Damn them.

When the two lawyers found agreement on a jury, I couldn’t have been happier. I thought I was going to burst a blood vessel. I started daydreaming about getting on public transportation (yes I know, it’s a case about a stabbing on MUNI). There was one slight moment before they swore in their 12 angry men and 6 alternates, when they made absolute sure that these choices would be in court for the ENTIRE run of the case.

A few folks did try to squirm out. The judge wasn’t playing. The “I might be at a wedding the end of the month” or “I need someone to watch the kids for a few days” didn’t go over big. The “I found out my boss will not pay for this and I have to pay for rent” person was interesting because it brought up, via an attorney, a new program beginning in a week. San Francisco is beginning a new program that will pay jurors $100 a day for serving. The judge asked no rent guy, if that would make a difference and he said: “no, not at all”. Everyone laughs at this because…we all live here.

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Catching a Slow Fog

It was a relief to see the fog slinking back to reclaim San Francisco. It’s one of the things you can count on this town. It’s unusually warm for a few days, have no fear our natural air-conditioner will reappear.

I was doing my usual couple of hours at the Pacific Heights pet hospital and resisted the urge to wear shorts (wore shorts the previous two days, that has to be a personal record). My weather pessimism was rewarded when that white/gray fluffy matter said “hold my beer, a few tourists are getting comfortable”.

It was a breeze riding MUNI while that Super Bowl game was going on. It’s a quieter experience. The football game didn’t interest me. Instead it made more sense to get ahead of the work. Additionally, there is the possibility I will be called for jury duty this week. That will be a day to day check in.

It was a nice relaxing weekend. The perfect tempo after a busy softball tournament in Palm Springs last weekend. I love the tournaments and I love coming down from them. Case in point: I dropped my luggage, sat outside, on the deck and didn’t move for awhile. Home is where the batteries recharge. It’s taken me a good portion of a week to catch up on all things non-softball but I had my tourtoise shell dialed to slow.

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The Urge to Purge

When it comes to posting on the eBay platform I am an absolute novice. I’m reading eBay suggestions, other posts, and trying to be real specific about the quality of the product.

The comic-books are from the 50’s to the 90’s and are in different states of condition. I’m the one with the superhero books and Garry has Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge.

There are almost 300 LPs. There is opera, The Grateful Dead, Lenny Bruce, Jefferson Airplane, opera, opera, and more opera. I believe Amoeba Records will be happy.

I used to purge things before I moved to the next apartment, this certainly brakes that pattern or creates a new one.

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Stretch

It was good to get out there.

After a few weeks of colder and wetter weather, we had a pleasant weekend in San Francisco, coinciding with our first softball practice of the new year.

It was a great turnout and I was feeling good physically. I’m roughly at the same weight I was at the end of the season. Naturally, this was intentional. All my walks, change in diet have produced a trimmer me. It’s been a boon, a positive for running around the baseball diamond in my mid-50’s.

I was not rusty after stretching. There has been no softball since the first week of September. But I was practicing like I was in mid-season form. I had quick reactions to ground balls. At bat, I kept back patiently, then made good contact through the zone. I found holes up the middle, between first, second base and down the third base line.

Temperature-wise our high at the park was about 58 degrees, which for me is fine for playing. I felt like I could be out there for hours.

In less then a month a group of us will be in Palm Springs, playing in the Winter Classic. It’s a tournament that’s always marked the opening of the softball season. By then many San Francisco teams are gearing up for a new season. I feel like I’m ready to play but this weekend, it was great to play catch, stretch and get kinks out.

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The Gentle Reign of Winter

We are now having the kind of winter that would probably put anyone off on, say wanting to move to Seattle. On a positive angle, this wet weather is great for what grows outback and the talk of drought in the area is suddenly very quiet. Welcome to the new year indeed.

The winter Omicron surge has taken form interestingly here in San Francisco. Everybody continues to be in different places. There are many folks that have upped their mask game (N95) and even are wearing them outside, others remain rooted in habits they’ve created with cloth masks for indoors. On the morning BART train, I generally sit away from the person who decides it’s okay for his/her nose to be outside.

It’s been an unusually quiet off-season (what I call the non-softball time of the year) for us. This is certainly tied to the current weather and COVID but Garry and I are making it around to see movies and theatre. We are stealthily picking our spots with non-heavy attendance showings (with the exception of the new Spider-man film).

A week ago we went to see New Conservatory Theatre Center’s production of Martin Sherman’s Gently Down the Stream. It was a very good production, nicely acted: Donald Currie (Beau), Daniel Redmond (Rufus), and Sal Mattos (Harry). It’s a romance between an older man and a younger one that is short-term but a friendship that isn’t. The playwright uses that generational difference to take us through a sweeping LGBT history tour that is worthwhile and certainly gives Donald Currie some sweet monologues. He nails each one.

The seats inside the small theatre continue to give folks space between blocks of tickets sold. Garry and I had no one to our left and right. It was not sold out and everybody had to wear a mask throughout the entire performance. The show must go on.

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Blackest Friday

Black Friday got a lot darker with the passing of Steven Sondheim. At 91, yes it was inevitable but still feels like a shock. I imagine this is what it felt like when Shakespeare died. His body of work, the sheer artistry of his words will continue to outlive all.

I didn’t see the news until after finishing a few hours of pulling weeds out back. It’s funny we both responded by getting show tickets. Tomorrow we will see Twelfth night the musical, next Friday I’ll catch the 25th Anniversary of RENT, and February 1st we will see the Band’s Visit. The theater must go on. That said I hope Broadway dims the lights.

One of the things I hope they mention in at least one of the obituaries is his mentoring the next generation of writers. It was surprising hearing his voice on the answering machine in Tick Tick Boom toward the end of the film. Sondheim asked to rewrite the phone message scene and offered his voice to it. Bradley Whitford played him physically in the movie.

In terms of movie musicals, 2021 has been a pretty active year. I’m looking forward to viewing an all new version of West Side Story. If it does turn out to be excellent, I wonder how that will play come Oscar time. The original won many Oscars. In The Heights is worthy and Tick Tick Boom. I hope they all get nods in the Best Musical or Comedy category.

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Bus Riff

After getting my steps in for the day, I climb on on the 24 bus. It’s a beautiful day in San Francisco. The 24 let’s me ride through a few neighborhoods before getting to my destination.

The different buses give you revolving flavors of the city. If I want a simple no nonsense ride to Pacific Heights, it’s the 24 bus. That’s not to say this line is without public transportation drama. Almost weekly, I comment on my Twitter feed about something that happens out of the ordinary (#talesofthe24). In general, it’s an easy ride.

As a huge theatre fan if I want my ride with almost a complete guarantee of a one person show, I can get that. Hey, it’s free theatre. When you see a ton of it you feel you can be a critic. For instance, I didn’t connect with Mary’s bump, grind and grunt on the 16 bus but I found Franco’s “bitch stole my money and my fu***** drugs” to be deep and Chaucer-like.

img_0527I’m in a good mood. The X-Ray’s on Luna’s leg repair looks good. She gets a total green light (longer walks, full unleashed use of the backyard). It’s a relief. And not carrying a pit bull up and down a flight of stairs every day is sweet.

At the intersection of Market and Castro, we stop for a long red light. I can see from my seat folks out enjoying the day. The realization for me is that I’m loving it myself. I’m on my way to work for a few hours and happy with the Luna news.

On that corner: The Twin Peaks Tavern (a bar folks call the glass coffin) is lively with patrons in and out as they continue with pandemic seating. An older man is sitting outside comfortably sporting blue Jean shorts, hoodie zip, and underneath the shorts are black stockings. The stockings have a sizable hole in them. It was big. My guess is he new about it and didn’t mind. This image struck me as a decent metaphor for San Francisco life. It’s not perfect but it’s not the holes that matter.

There are times when I listen to headphones on the trip or read something from my phone but more times out of not I take in the ride. There are a few side views as you ascend the hills. On clear days you can see downtown or the fog (or both).

The restaurants along Divesadero street are busy with Sunday brunchers. I’m my head I start playing back Sunday from Jonathan Larson’s Tick Tick Boom. I love what Lin-Manuel Miranda did with this show. He added a few numbers (where Hollywood directors would cut), one number that Larson cut in the stage show. He made it work visually. Andrew Garfield turned out to be the right choice for the lead.

Ah here comes my stop.

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Halloween Happenings

Friday, October 29th – Halloween weekend: Garry and I have been getting into this Netflix show that is really spooky but in a rather old-fashioned way. The program absolutely avoids the slasher sort of directing that generally permeates these sorts of projects. Instead, Midnight Mass tells a story with character development and lets it play out. There are shocking moments naturally, but you are already invested in the island folks.

Undoubtedly, there will be viewers turned off by the use of Christianity (thru organized religion) to explain it all. I found it to be a creative cover for the evil that is brewing on the island. At six episodes we are hooked. The direction for this TV thing is uncanny. It has depended on long monologues. I mean, there are scenes between actors that go on and on before a cut is even made. My guess is that anyone who likes to read a good horror story might actually enjoy watching this; it does take time to unfold.

San Francisco will be hopping this weekend with the Outside Lands festival at Golden Gate Park and Halloween in the Castro. The weather for both will be perfect San Francisco weather. Yes, wear a t-shirt but carry a lite…whatever. 

We are going to catch the new Wes Anderson movie: The French Dispatch. Anderson is the sort of filmmaker that cares more about making characters as quirky as they can be rather than employing a more satisfying conclusion to a story. This director is not a three-course meal, he is an appetizer, and then the waiter forgets you are there. I like to describe his movies as watchable. It is not that I don’t enjoy Anderson’s movies. I like some of them, but that enjoyment is measured. For my tastes: The Royal Tenenbaums and the Isle of Dogs are memorable for different reasons. His wildly popular Rushmore I never finished.

On our own isle of dog, Luna continues her rehab period. There is no more cone of shame, and we are back to some walking in the neighborhood. She puts pressure on the operated leg and walks on it, but she is not quite 100 percent back yet. Naturally, she wants to do more and misses using the entire backyard to run around like a crazy dog (zoomies), but that has to happen gradually as per the Vets order.

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