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My sister's graduation and celebratory weekend were fabulous (do a search for "awordsmith" on Flickr if you feel like checking out photos). Then, last weekend, Yael and her lovely beau dragged their tired selves to San Francisco to extend the celebration a bit further. We had a glorious afternoon in Golden Gate Park last Saturday--six of us, in total, exploring the delicious slice of nature under a brilliant sun and with enough of a breeze that no one even broke a sweat on our 2-hour-plus walk. Sweet perfection.
Yes, summer is in full swing here in San Francisco and, by some freak error in nature, we've had three full weeks of sunshine and relatively warm days. That includes a few days of what the SF Chronicle called "sweltering" city temperatures--yes, folks, we may have hit 80 degrees for a day or two there! Luckily, we all survived the vicious heatwave and life resumed as usual.
The heat could not be the reason behind the bizarre behavior of the middle-aged gentleman with the peculiar limp who sat next to us at the movies the other night: the nutjob began flossing his teeth in the middle of the movie. Yes, flossing. In public. While watching a movie.
Really... I've lived much of my adult life in New York City, Los Angeles and San Francisco. Should I really be shocked by anything anymore?
My brother Amir and I had a fantastic time at the Police show last night. That, in spite of our nosebleed seats (see photo for an idea of how many time zones stood between us and the band), in spite of the $10 beers (which, being a non-drinker, caused me less distress than Amir), in spite of the guy next to us videotaping half the show as if it were his kid's birthday party, in spite of the mediocre, muffled, bass-heavy (and surprisingly muted) sound system and in spite of the retro-clothed woman beside me, who--as thousands of people waited patiently for the band to take the stage--thought it tolerable to shout over and over "WHERE'S MY STING-I-POO?!"
Luckily, the video screens were large and remarkably clear, so we could not only confirm that we were actually seeing the Police and not some look-alike intruders, but we could see facial expressions, real live guitar strumming and a grey-haired Stewart showing his drum kit who's boss. These guys may be getting on in years, but they are still consummate musicians who play with more skill and agility than today's young non-talents (albeit not as tightly as in days passed).
A set list, for anyone interested:
1 - Message in a Bottle (Amir guessed right!)
2 - Synchronicity II
3- Don't Stand So Close to Me (a version somewhere between the upbeat original and the bland, soft-rock '86 remake)
4 - Voices in My Head
5 - When the World Is Running Down...
6 - Spirits in the Material World
7 - Driven to Tears (a funky, extended version)
8 - Regatta de Blanc
9 - Walking on the Moon
10 - Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
11 - Wrapped Around Your Finger (with images of glowing candelabra, like in the video)
12 - Bed's Too Big Without You
13 - De Do Do Do De Da Da Da
14 - Invisible Sun
15 - Walking in Your Footsteps (one of several songs performed in a lower, less tuneful key--I guess Sting can't hit those high notes anymore)
16 - Truth Hits Everybody
17 - Can't Stand Losing You
18 - Roxanne (with the stage enveloped, predictably, in red light)
19 - King of Pain (beautifully done)
20 - So Lonely (great song that suffered from the key change)
21 - Every Breath You Take (as expected, a HUGE crowd-pleaser)
Being my first big arena concert since the Clinton era, last night's show reminded me of all that is good and bad about rounding up many thousands of people--young and old, preppy and hippie and everything in between--assembling them in one place, plying them with booze and then making them all leave the venue AT THE SAME TIME. As we fought our way through the hordes of hyper, buzzing people marching toward and crowding into the BART station, I was provided indisputible proof that my youth is, indeed, behind me. I'm just glad I enjoyed it as much as I did before beginning the slow crawl toward senility.
One week ago today, I woke up in a bed and breakfast in sticky, sleepy Independence, Missouri. Despite being in town for only 36 hours to assist a colleague with jury selection for a local trial, I nevertheless attempted to explore as much as possible.
What did I find? Not much, apart from a newly-opened coffee house, where the owner greeted me warmly when I stopped in for my morning cup. I heard all about the painting party that went on the night before and how the state senator, out for his usual late-night walk around the square, stopped in to help the owners and their friends paint the sprawling walls and ceilings of the joint a deep, warm shade of red.
I stifled a smirk as the shop's barista, sensing my hesitance in selecting from the menu (an imagined hesitance, as all I wanted was an iced coffee), informed me that they have some "interesting" items on the menu, then proceeded to explain such exotic drinks as latte, mocha and cappuccino.
Driving from Kansas City Airport into Independence with my colleague, George, I noticed a weather-worn pickup sporting a bumper sticker with a Confederate flag and the catchy slogan: "Why apologize for being right?" Other Confederate-minded folks proudly showed off their flags with statements like: "I'd rather be shootin' Yankees" (charming!), "We fought the first war against terrorism," "Save the South!" and "Yankees Go Home!" What a way to feel welcome!
Back in San Francisco, I've opened my home and my heart to my once ex and now current boyfriend, Jason, who (much to my delight) has chosen to spend his summer here, leaving NYC behind until September. Yes, three years apart did little to quash the feelings Jason and I have for one another and so we're officially Giving It Another Shot. Living under one very small roof for three months provides, I think, an indisputible gauge of a couple's patience and tolerance for one another, although my cats' ambivalence toward the arrangement is another matter entirely.
Off to L.A. this weekend to celebrate my sister's newly-minted PhD with family and dear friends--very excited to share in her great accomplishment with some fabulous festivities (and also to enjoy a baby shower for a special friend). But first, and of course, there's the little matter of seeing THE POLICE tomorrow night. With Jason's arrival a few days ago and the impending Sting-Andy-Stewart reunification, I have barely been able to sit still for weeks. Throw in a huge move at my office and my poor ass has all but forgotten how it feels to sink into the splendid caress of a chair.
Good times, my friends. Good times.