All the wrong reasons - by Jeff Scher

Remember "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds" from the Beatles' Yellow Submarine? This is like that without the repetitiveness. I wish my dreams looked this way...

Best novel of 2007 (and I haven’t even finished it).

Bolano actually published The Savage Detectives in 1998, but the English translation just came out last year. In the tradition of vivid, mystical Latin American novelists like Allende and Marquez, Bolano captures the zeitgeist of ‘60s and ‘70s Mexico City, where everyone is a poet and no one knows where they’ll sleep tonight (or with whom). While I haven’t finished the novel, Part One was an enjoyable bildungsroman and Part Two has shifted to a multi-voiced mystery about ulterior motives that isn’t always easy to follow, but is always satisfying. Bolano died young, but left a decent body of work that I’m looking forward to reading.

The end times never looked so good...

Psychedelic political treatise! Who's with me?

Mexico vs. 24th and Mission - A Comparative Study

*Note: Impressions of Mexico based on a week’s stay in San Miguel de Allende, which isn’t exactly representative of all of Mexico, but that’s where I went. Impressions of 24th and Mission based on years of up close and personal experience.

Bus transportation: advantage – Mexico.
Except for the videos of The X Files in Spanish blasting at 50 or 60 decibels on our 3 hour trip from Mexico City.

Street cleanliness: advantage – Mexico .
It turns out that throwing trash in the street is not a Mexican national pastime; it must be an American thing.

Mexican food: advantage – Mexico.
Mountains of starchy rice and refried beans in your burrito? That’s a Mission thing. My greatest discovery in Mexico? Tortas and more tortas. They know their sandwiches.

Restaurant service: advantage: 24th and Mission.
Super friendly in Mexico, but their policy is to promise you anything and then promptly forget to follow through.

Homeless/impoverished street people: advantage – Mexico
While the stream of consciousness rantings of your 24th and Mission homeless person might be colorful, the dignified desperation of a wizened abuelita gets the nod here. At least the Mexican homeless would take advantage of any opportunity not to be homeless, and you get a sense that they aren’t merely a product of a whole bunch of bad choices.

Sidewalk vending: advantage – Mexico
Fresh cucumber and watermelon sprinkled in chili powder? Corn on the cob? Hand-made yarn holiday ornaments? Dangerous fireworks? Much better than cheap plastic cell-phone cases and slightly suspicious popsicle vendors grouped in odd bunches of twos and threes. You could follow a pretty healthy diet in Mexico just snacking on the street.

Observance of traffic regulations: advantage – 24th and Mission.
This was a close call. It seems to me that traffic safety is inversely proportional to fervency of religious belief. I guess that would make Taliban suicide bombers among the worst drivers in the world. They should do a study on this.

Internet access: advantage – 24th and Mission
This was not a close call, but our friend Dave is narrowing the gap with his internet provider business in San Miguel. The cable TV was fine in our hotel though. I had no idea I would be able to watch college bowl games on our vacation. Neither did my wife…


Pharmacies: advantage – Mexico
While I did not visit a pharmacy in San Miguel, my friends assured me that expatriate Americans are like kids in a candy store there, what with no scrips required for a multitude of powerful pain relievers, muscle relaxants, and stimulants. Looking to retire in a state of permanent glassy-eyed bliss? Go to Mexico.

chew on this

my day at the tour of california prologue

I'm a cyclist and cycling fan, so naturally I spent four hours behind a metal barrier at the top of Telegraph Hill yesterday to get a good look at the finish of the 1.9 mile prologue to the race. In only its second year, the Tour of California (or more romantic Tour DE California) is already the most prestigious American road race, so some heavy hitters from across the pond come over for the event. I mean, that guy just a few feet from me, that's Thor Hushovd!

I'm a planner, so an hour before the first rider departed, I parked myself about 100 meters from the finish line, Sunday crossword and race roster in hand. Lovely day, incredible athletes, beautiful Specialized Angel nearby. Started crossword puzzle, struggled, but gradually teased out some answers. Prologue begins. Cowbells, annoying inflatable plastic bang sticks, riders flashing by at 20+ mph despite a serious gradient. The area starts to crowd up with fans climbing the Filbert steps, the parrots fly in formation overhead. ("Did you see the movie?" "No, did you?") .

My roster tells me which rider will be next up the hill. A few others around me have rosters too, so someone usually announces to the crowd the name and the team of the next guy coming. Problem for me is that I have a couple of real wags to the right and to the rear of me who can't resist attempting a witticism with every rider announced. Examples follow:

Idiot Right: "Next up is Kyle Gritters from Health Net."
Idiot Rear: "Nitter Gritters!"

Idiot Rear: "Josep Jufre Pou? He must get hassled a lot with a name like that..."
Idiot Right: "When he goes by, let's shout 'You're number two, you're number two!"

These are some of the more painfully memorable comments - most were just ill informed speculations about nationality - there was a long discussion about whether the designation AUS meant Australia or Austria, despite the fact that the rider's name was Rory Sutherland. I was torn between keeping mum and turning to point out that "Rory" and "Sutherland" would seem to indicate one of those countries over the other, but I opted for keeping mum.

I'm still having a good time - I can see, I have the crossword for the interstices in the action, the weather is fine. Then, midway through the event as the finish gets more and more crowded, a spectator decides that the 7 or 8 centimeters between my back and the rock wall behind me are ample space for him to squeeze into. Idiot Right and Idiot Rear are also affected by this, and an exchange ensues about squatter's rights and selfishness. Asshole Latecomer (AL) has the name "Maureen" tattooed on his right calf surrounded by bright red and orange flames. He tells them that he "got past" his selfishness a long time ago and that maybe they ought to do the same - this while his kneecap is repeatedly digging into my shoulder blade (I'm sitting on the ground).

Rather than point out the irony in his statement, I keep mum. Keeping mum is often my way of approaching conflict, much to the dissatisfaction of a goodly number of my intimates. I'm close to finishing the crossword and some of the bigger names are coming up the hill, so I'm trying to focus on the good parts of the experience. Then AL starts pulling out a bulky and quite sophisticated camera with a pole thing he attaches to the camera. I tune out until he extends the pole thing so that the camera is directly in my line of sight of the roadway, the line of sight I had husbanded so carefully for over three hours.

When you are a big guy, you have to be extremely cautious about how you respond to indignities, because there are lots of people out there who will view conflict with big guys as potentially physical. In this instance, I figured sarcasm was the best way to go, so I turned and looked back at AL and simply said, "You have GOT to be kidding me..." His response: "What? You're just sitting there doing your crossword puzzle!" Yes AL, I have ventured to the most congested place I could find in San Francisco, found a spot on the pavement that for some reason is coveted by many other people, and it has nothing to do with seeing the cyclists at all! You are a selfless genius! (Actually, I just stared at him incredulously for a long enough time that he left only a minute or two later.)

Idiot Right and Rear then rhapsodized about what a jerk AL was as they made up more bon mots about the riders - guess what brilliant onomatopoeia they came up with when Alexandre Moos rode by? When Levi Leipheimer finally passed by (he is pictured above after the race - thanks for looking down Levi), I realized that my afternoon of sincere fandom had been seriously undercut by my fellow fans. The peril of public fandom is that you often come face to face with people like you who are simultaneously very much not like you.

I am trying to follow the first stage of the tour on www.amgentourofcalifornia.com, but for some reason their site makes no sense at all. Ah well, there are always shots of the Specialized Angel to soothe me:


If you care, my favorite team this year has got to be Team Slipstream, both for their aggressive stance on clean riders and their really cool argyle pattern jerseys. One of their unknown riders, Jason Donald, came second in the prologue. He was working as a garbageman in Colorado last year, imagine that! Will garbage pickup become the next health craze, the Pilates of tomorrow? Great workout and simultaneous benefit to society!

will you be mine (for one night only)?

Cue Up Frankie Laine's "Jezebel". Hit play. Begin reading:

Dear Ms. Rice: No doubt volumes will be written about your policies, your cronies, your academic career and your skills as an international power broker, but what of your book of love? Let's pretend for a moment, you and I. Say there could be a book that no one would ever see save you and me, a book of surrender and conquest, of peaks and valleys, of full-throated cries and barely audible whispers - a slender, tender volume of one night we alone shared?

My wife is perfectly fine with it, I wouldn't speak to the media or your boss - no one need know that for one night of your life you made yourself vulnerable to passion. You could get up the next morning and pretend that it never happened if you wanted to - just step back into your sensible underwear, slip and navy blue two-piece uniform, and off you go to your conferences and power lunches.

Where's the harm? Probably nothing will change - probably. You might feel a couple of strange new sensations as you work your diplomacy magic - we call these feelings 'empathy' and 'warmth'. Don't be frightened - most of us get these feelings from time to time.

Also, should you take me up on my offer, I promise to be completely respectful - the evening will be about you, not me. All precautions concerning birth control and STD's will be my responsibility, and trust me, I take those responsibilities very seriously. I also know how to whip up a tasty and rejuvenating smoothie to get your morning started right.

Statecraft requires deep insight into the nature of all facets of humanity, from the dark recesses of our subconscious selves to the bright horizons of what Lincoln called "the angels of our better nature." In this regard, my invitation, should you accept, can only add to your prodigious skills in divining the intentions of both evildoers and allies. It might also clear up some of that stuff you didn't grasp in those required literature courses in college.

Condoleeza, I eagerly await your response. Know that I am prepared to travel anywhere at a moment's notice, although I would appreciate a Kevlar vest if our assignation were to take place anywhere southeast of the Mediterranean. Again, discretion is my watchword, and, just so you know, I find that gap between your front teeth damn sexy. If it seals the deal for you to know, I have a gap there too. If you're reading this, you know how to reach me.