SFBG Blogs

Calvin Trillin: Pat and Rush on Haiti

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Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh on Haiti

A pact with the Devil’s what Robertson says

Has caused folks in Haiti distress.

If they had consulted Pat’s Jesus instead,

Tney’d now be a smashing success.

And Rush says Obama’s just scoring some points

With all of his darker-skinned backers.

We’ve alread given to Haiti, Rush says:

Our taxes supported those slackers.

When listening to what the two of them spew,

These theories bizarre and rococo,

It’s hard to decide who’s racist and mean

And who just needs help ’cause he’s loco.

Calvin Trillin, Deadline Poet, The Nation (2/08/l0)

Science slips into something more comfortable: the Exploratorium’s “Sexplorations”

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Spring is in the air. Sure, it’s coupled by a lingering chill, but the past few days have brought a cameo by our fair weather (ha!) friend the sun, flowers are popping up and open toed shoe spottings have been increasing in intensity on our city sidewalks. It’s a time of rebirth, renewal… and no small amount of, shall we say, “fecundity” in the world around us.

Such fertility sets the stage nicely for this month’s Exploratorium After Hours night dedicated to the science of hanky panky. If you haven’t yet checked out the kid-friendly science museum’s adult-friendly monthly event, just know that it features all the regular museum exhibits, a cash bar, music, expert lecturers and free parking. February’s theme is “Sexplorations” and it promises a vaguely titillating evening- particularly if you’re into watching insects bang or modern science’s latest findings on your nasty bits.

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“Baby you so fine I wanna stick on you like recombinant DNA.” Science pick-up lines, ya dig? Photo by Amy Snyder, copyright Exploratorium

And what has science dug up on our down under since 10th grade health class? “Sexplorations” will feature a discussion of just these revelations by sly fox science writer Mary Roach, whose latest tome “Bonk,” is a rundown of understandings and misunderstandings of our privates and their functions, a follow up to her previous treatises on cadavers and what specialists have discovered about the afterlife.

What else? A “condom couture” fashion show, sea urchin fertilization, a talk on the sex lives of kitty cats, bull testicle dissection, live sperm and two movies entitled “Love Life of the Octopus” (1965) and “Sexual Encounters of the Floral Kind” (1983). Ready to get frisky, scientifically speaking?


After Hours: “Sexplorations”
Thur/4 6-10 p.m., $15
The Exploratorium
3601 Lyon, SF
(415) 561-0363
www.exploratorium.edu

You need some Ebony Bones …

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….if you miss Bow Wow Wow and/or an electroed-up late period Skunk Anansie, maybe ….

… or just some good ol’ 2010 pop.

Ebony Bones
w/ VV Brown
Thu/4, 10 p.m., $10 21+/$12 18+
Popscene
330 Ritch, SF
www.popscene-sf.com

GOP meltdown could help Jerry Brown

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And lord knows, he needs it. Jerry’s campaign is nowhere, his message is muddled, he’s got no connection at all to young voters and unless he takes steps to define himself pretty darn soon, he’s going to be chopped up into yesterday’s hash by the Republican hit squads.

But here’s a glimmer of hope: The last two GOP candidates are at war. Really. Steve Poizner has even called in the FBI.

In a remarkable letter, Poizner argues that Meg Whitman’s campaign threatened to spend $40 million beating him up — and then promised to deliver a U.S. Senate nomination to him if he’d come to his senses and get out of the race.

Here’s an email that Poizner claims came from Mike Murphy, one of Whitman’s top campaign consultants:

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Pretty harsh. You know this stuff goes on all the time — power politics is a lot like the world of the Mob, except more careers die than people. But only rarely is a consultant so stupid as to put it in an email.

Poizner wants the U.S. Attorney, the FBI and everyone else he can think of involved, but guess who gets first crack at what could be a violation of state election law? That’s right — Attorney General Jerry Brown. Who really can’t lose here — if he finds that Whitman’s campaign was guilty of threats and intimidation, he makes his likely primary opponent look awful. If he thinks she didn’t break any laws, he can claim a conflict of interest, make it sound like the feds really ought to prosecute, and walk away shaking his head.

A rare bit of good news. And a bit of insight into how Ms. Ebay would actually govern.

 

 

 

Prison report: People are getting out

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By Just A Guy

Editors note: Just A Guy was recently released from a California prison, where he wrote regular reports for us. He continues to comment on prison and criminal-justice issues. You can read his most recent post here.

So it’s finally happening: The early releases are to begin very soon, and the furor of public officials trying to protect their collective asses by decrying the releases and stirring up fear is funny.

Shit, what do you do? The number — 6,500 — is a drop in the bucket. Really, why is everyone so worried about it? These inmates are all getting out anyway, and more time inside equates (according to the pundits anyway) to more time for these low-level offenders to become fodder for the prison gangs and become even worse than they are now. And because they’re getting so much rehabilitation on the inside they should be kept there.

I guarantee that the majority of these 6,500 people are people in for possession or possession for sale. I guarantee the majority got no real help while inside, and a good portion will be on the streets and using drugs again — because, well, not everyone has the capability of self-rehabilitation without being given the tools. Is it any wonder many get out worse than when they go in?

I have been on parole for just over two months now. I was in for possession. My supervision has already dropped from once a week to once a month. Bear in mind, I transferred to a different state, but parole isn’t that hard, not if a person is willing to take responsibility for his or her actions and life. But I’m fortunate — I have a great support network, job, car, house, etc…but I also have the desire to stay out and to stay clean.

I know to many of you this may be counterintuitive, but there are folks that have the desire to stay clean, but just don’t know how. They don’t have the tools or skills or know what to do. They grew up around drugs, they went to prison where there were more drugs, their role models were drug dealers and gangbangers. They go to prison and get no real help and now…they’re released into a world with little supervision to the same neighborhood and the same shit keeps happening AND they keep hearing about how they’re such horrible people. The cycle continues.

Leno seeks to affirm religious freedom

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By Nima Maghame

As supporters and opponents of same-sex marriage await closing arguments and a verdict in the federal lawsuit challenging Prop. 8’s legality, California State Senator Mark Leno has introduced a new bill that protects clergy who don’t want to perform marriage ceremonies that conflict with their beliefs.

“We so often heard from members of clergy that if Prop. 8 doesn’t pass, they had concern that they would be forced to marry against their beliefs and scared they would lose their tax-exemption,” Leno told the Guardian. So he’s decided to promote a bill that would remove that argument from the anti-gay marriage arsenal.

South African rap-rave, FTW?

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Via The Awl. Er… we should be paying more attention to Africa, maybe.

From a recent interview with Vice:

Right. So, are you hip-hop or what?
Ninja: Ja we’re from the hip-hop family, but we do rap-rave next level shit. Die Antwoord started with my one homeboy, DJ Hi-Tek (shows tattoo on hand)—He’s got his own PC computer and he makes basically like phat rap-rave beats. I was checking out his shit, and we started making some beats, you know, next level shit. So then I was speaking to my homegirl Yo-Landi, you know she’s got some funk and super flavour, so we started with a kind of, like, 2Unlimited, C+C Music Factory kind of thing… but a bit more gangster, with a street edge.

See ya later, Infected Mushroom.

Street Threads: Evelyn

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SFBG photog Ariel Soto scoops SF street fashion. See the previous Look of the Day here.


Today’s Look: Evelyn, Cortland and Bennington

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Tell us about your look: “I wear what’s clean”

SF Critical Mass under review

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San Francisco Police Chief George Gascón said Friday that he has ordered a review of policies related to Critical Mass, offering veiled threats of an impending crackdown to the unpermitted monthly mass bike ride. As SFPD learned from a 1997 crackdown, that won’t work, and will more likely make the event even more popular and provocative.

But if he’s serious about improving police procedures surrounding Critical Mass, that would be a welcome change. Ever since the March 2007 ride, in which the local media fed hysteria over the ride after an altercation between a driver and cyclist, there’s been a big but confused and confusing police presence on the rides, the result of wanting to “do something” but having no discernible policy or strategy for what to do.

Meanwhile, within the community of longtime Critical Mass riders, there was already a discussion brewing about how to self-regulate and prevent conflicts with drivers. Some of that discussion has been occurring on a new website devoted to the event, and much of it centers on communicating to riders that the event is about celebrating bikes, not purposely pissing off drivers.

There are no official leaders, procedures, or route to the 18-year-old event, making overt negotiations and policies difficult. But if Gascón is serious about the value he said he places on community outreach, there have got to be ways to lower police costs, lessen community conflicts, and preserve what thousands of San Franciscans still see as an important San Francisco tradition.

Time for journalists to organize

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Will journalists be forced to include a “tip jar” logo next to their online work? Or is there some other way to save an industry in crisis?

Alan Mutter has a cool post on his ‘Reflections of a Newsosaur’ blog today: he advocates that we stop the exploitation of journalists. And he includes a handy way to calculate your own worth as a reporter, including the notion of establishing a basic hourly rate (which he calculates as four times the minimum wage in your state, so that would be $32 an hour in California, and then factor in everything else.)

Mutter’s is a desperately needed message and tool– in this age where freelancers are apparently expected to feel honored just to get their byline in an online publication, or a pittance instead of a professional salary.

Since the Chronicle drastically cut its newsroom last year and the California Media Workers alliance set up a Freelancers Unit (which, abbreviated, fittingly says “FU”) I’ve read countless rants about the piss poor wages, or lack of them, that employers seem to think are OK to offer reporters, in the post-print, mobile-phone dominated age.

And so far, no one has figured out a way to turn around this depressing trend. Will reporters be forced to include a “tip jar” logo, alongside the “share” and “email” and “print” buttons that typically frame their online work? I don’t know, but if you are prepared to give a dollar to a barista for making you a cup of joe, why not do the same for someone who just spent months of their life digging up the dirt on the rich and powerful, so that members of the public could have a clue as to what is really going on? And why don’t the aggregators, like Google and Yahoo and Dogg, who profit handsomely from displaying reporters’ work, pay writers a small fee (even a percentage of a cent) everytime someone clicks on this so-called ‘free’ content?

There may be very good reasons why none of the above approaches will work (it’s easy to slip a dollar in a real jar, but less appealing when you have to log in and give someone your credit card number). But if human kind can figure out a way to get to the moon and cure cancer, then we can figure out a way to fairly compensate reporters.
Especially since these are the very folks who alert you when earthquakes hit and wars break out and seemingly wholesome politicians turn out to be cheating, daughter-denying, self-promoting sleaze bags. Yes, we can imagine a world without newsprint, but a world without news? That’s called a dictatorship.

Redford honors Bay Area leaders for the art of their activism

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In our highly messaged world, it follows that activism is followed closely by art. Sometimes the two are indistinguishable from each other. Film and music celebrities perform to raise funds for an earthquake-ravaged Haiti, a farm workers’ union organizes through political theater. Robert Redford is no stranger to this connection. Building on his history of work within the environmental movement, the actor has created the Robert Redford Center– an organization which holds its first event this Thursday, entitled “Art and Activism.” It will feature a public conversation with Redford himself on the title theme and present awards to two honorees, both of whom have elevated their responsibility to help others to veritable art forms.

Victor Diaz, one of the two leaders that will be recognized this week, might have benefited from a program like the one he runs today back when he was a teenager. Berkeley Technology Academy is a step away from traditional continuation schools, one that acknowledges the complexity of life as an underprivileged teenager. “Nine times out of ten,” Diaz says “a kid will tell us ‘I’m selling weed because I can’t get a job.’ We’ll work with them on resume building, help them with their job search- it’s not unusual for us to even buy them clothes that they can go to an interview in.”

This kind of holistic approach for students for whom the traditional educational system has failed is something that Diaz has worked hard to promote in his five years as principal at BTA. The academy strives to keep kids enrolled through their completion of high school, dodging the pitfalls that can occur with conventional “rehabilitation” schools. Typically, students are sent back to their original high schools after a few months at alternative schools- where the same factors that caused them to fail in the first place continue unabated. “[Our approach] holds us accountable to provide all the things they need to graduate,” says Diaz.

The principal has a pretty good idea of what these things are- he was one of these at-risk youth at one point. Bounced around from foster home to foster home- not to mention six different high schools- in his teens, Diaz managed to make it to community college, where his work with young people ignited a passion to make life better for them. He went back to school, and a master’s, law degree and PhD later has worked in county schools, SF Unified and juvenile hall. “This was the population I felt most connected to, that I felt like I had more to contribute to,” he says.

Under his watch BTA- whose attendance is 100 percent racial minority- has become a place where students and their families can receive more than just algebra and PE classes. In the past, young women were directed to off campus women’s advocacy groups when dealing with issues of abuse, but BTA now holds a class on women’s issues and has a health center for private, confidential care. They hold men’s classes as well for their guys that are going through tough personal issues and host health fairs that offer information to parents on Medi-Cal and vision screenings. “We try to do things in house and do them more efficaciously,” says Diaz.

The principal has changed up the staff on site too, to be more involved with students as human beings. “We’re not there just to teach math, we know that sometimes [ensuring kids’ success] requires a home visit. Many of our kids are in foster care, living with a non-custodial, biological parent. 30 to 40 percent don’t have someone to advocate for them. Another 30 to 40 percent, their parents are working overtime to pay their bills.”

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Avery Hale’s only 16- but she donates shoes to developing countries and is getting a Redford award of her own

When asked about his upcoming honor, the principal becomes uncharacteristically shy, deflecting praise towards his peers. “Sometimes I’m a little embarrassed, overwhelmed by [the award]. I know a lot of people that are doing way more important work.” But he underscored the importance of the fact that the Redford Center is giving an activism award to an educator. “Sometimes a teacher who is preventing five kids from dropping out of high school- it’s not as ‘sexy’ [as foreign aid work], but it’s really important.” He says he’ll be encouraging the board to continue highlighting the achievements of “everyday” teachers and school administrators.

But are the kids at BTA impressed their principal will be getting an award from the star of “The Untouchables” and “A River Runs Through It”? Diaz applauds the “amazing” achievements by Redford in his career on screen and off- but was unconvinced his student body would be asking him for autographs. “They don’t know who he is! We live in a small world here.”

The Redford Center will also be honoring Avery Hale, a 15 year old who started an organization that sends footwear to shoeless kids in developing countries three years ago. Hale created her charity drive after seeing photos from her parents’ trip to Peru of little ones with infected feet, and has now shipped or delivered countless pairs to kids on three continents.

“The Art of Activism”
Thur/4 7-9 p.m., $20
Sundance Kabuki Cinemas
1881 Post, SF
www.redfordcenter.org
www.brownpapertickets.org

 

Slow burn: The Clientele lights ‘Bonfires on the Hearth’

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THE CLIENTELE
Bonfires on the Hearth
(Merge)

By Kimberly Chun

“Charmed, I’m sure,” you wanna mutter humbly as the guitar vamps enter sparkling and B-3 commences humming on “I Wonder Who We Are,” the opening track of the Clientele’s latest, Bonfires on the Hearth. Less purple-shaded and melancholy than 2003’s The Violet Hour (Merge), less hard-cornered and haunted than 2005’s Strange Geometry, and further embellished with sitar drone and autumnal brass, Bonfires shows the London band still tucked into its distinct universe, a nook of ‘60s-wracked pop that’s nostalgic but never truly derivative. It’s mood music that finds its strength in softness.

Sonic Reducer Overage: Prefuse 73, Mates of State, and more

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The way to prep yourself for more rain — go out a lot.

Mates of State
The once-SF based Kori Gardner and Jason Hummel Re-Arrange themselves and land at two different SF spots in one fell swoop. With the Red Wine Boys and John Hodgman. Sun/31, 8 p.m., $25 advance. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669. Also Mon/1, 8 p.m., $20. Cafe du Nord, 2170 Market, S.F. (415) 861-5016.

By Kimberly Chun

The way to prep yourself for more rain — go out a lot.

Mates of State
The once-SF based Kori Gardner and Jason Hummel Re-Arrange themselves and land at two different SF spots in one fell swoop. With the Red Wine Boys and John Hodgman. Sun/31, 8 p.m., $25 advance. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669. Also Mon/1, 8 p.m., $20. Cafe du Nord, 2170 Market, S.F. (415) 861-5016.

Oh Captain, My Captain
The Portland, Ore., indie-rock it sweetly past the point of no return. With the Burning of Rome and the Aimless Never Miss. Sun/31, 9 p.m., $6. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. (415) 923-0923.

Nevermint (Grand Lake) from Bob Thayer on Vimeo.

Grand Lake
Oakland is for lovers — and these lake-lubber indies, playing this SF Indie Fest date. With Two Sheds, Fake Your Own Death, and kuma/koshka. Tues/2, 8:30 p.m., $10. Thee Parkside, 1600 17th St., SF. (415) 503-0393.

Freedom breakfast: French toast — not just Wonder Bread anymore

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Dusted: Bananas foster french toast at Boulevard Cafe. Photo by Kimberly Chun.

Maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s just the rain, or maybe it’s just breakfast, but French toast has been looking pretty damn good lately. Especially when you’re a wild bruncher like moi. Et vous? If you’re in agreement, get that sweet tooth tout suite to Toast Eatery in Noe Valley and Boulevard Cafe in Daly City.

You gotta be a butter fan to dig Toast’s croissant french toast. It’s a squashed, egg-battered, fried mound of sweet breadiness. Love it or leave it. You don’t get anything else — not even a fruit garnish. The butteriness can get overwhelming, but then all that creamy stuff didn’t seem to do Julia Child much harm.

Even better, the bananas foster french toast at Boulevard Cafe, perched on the edge of John Daly Boulevard off the Highways 280 and 1 interchange. Whipped cream, thick Texas Toast-y bread, lots of caramelized bananas, and cinnamon, girl. A bonus: No wait since Boulevard has to be one of the hugest diners in the Bay, in a midcentury-space-age building that jives perfectly with the ‘burby delights of the City of Daly. Free parking makes it a last-minute must for all those kids tired of circling Valencia Street in vain.


TOAST EATERY
1748 Church, SF
(415) 282-4328
www.toasteatery.com

BOULEVARD CAFE
2 Poncetta, Daly City
(650) 755-3400
www.theboulevardcafe.com

SF street art: Catching some zzzs

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By Kimberly Chun

Sighted near Dolores Park: a doozy of a dozing garage door.

Meister: Obama’s promise to women

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It’s time to enact the Paycheck Fairness Act that would allow women to negotiate with employers for equal pay with men

By Dick Meister

(Dick Meister, former labor editor of the SF Chronicle and KQED-TV Newsroom, has covered labor and politics for a half-century.)

One of the most important promises made by President Obama in his State of the Union address has been largely overlooked – his promise to “crack down on violations of equal pay laws, so that women get equal pay for an equal day’s work.”

The need for that is great. Despite the 47-year-old law that promises women equal pay, their earnings remain well below men’s pay. They average only 77 cents for every dollar earned by men, even though their work is obviously every bit as valuable to employers and society at large as the work of men.

The pay discrepancy is even greater for women of color. African American women earn 63 cents and Latinas 52 cents for every dollar earned by men.

It’s estimated that if women were granted equal pay, they could earn as much as $2 million more over the whole of their working lives. It’s also estimated that if women were paid equally, the number of families living in poverty could be reduced by as much as half. Women’s earnings are needed by most families, and in many cases, women are their family’s only breadwinner.

Even women doing the same work as men, or work that’s as valuable to employers as that of their male counterparts, almost always are paid less. It’s as bad for women in the professions as for others. Female nurses, for instance, physicians and surgeons, professors, school teachers and lawyers earn as much as 30 percent less than men in their fields.

President Obama already has signed a bill that should help narrow the male-female pay gap. It was, in fact, the very first bill he signed after taking office – the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Restoration Act. It’s named for a retired tire plant supervisor in Alabama who discovered after nearly 20 years on the job that she was being paid less than male supervisors.

Ms. Ledbetter sued for discrimination under the 1964 Civil Rights Act. But the Supreme Court ruled in 2007 that the law requires workers to sue no later than 180 days after their discriminatory pay rate was set – even if, like Ms. Ledbetter, they don’t discover the pay discrimination until years later. As the result of the decision, hundreds of pay discrimination cases were thrown out of court.

Shortly after the Supreme Court acted, the House passed a bill that would have overturned the court’s outrageous decision. But Senate Republicans, claiming the bill would lead to a flood of unfounded suits against employers, blocked a vote, and President Bush vowed to veto the bill if it ever crossed his desk.

The bill that finally reached Obama’s desk for signing provides that the 180-day time limit for filing lawsuits under the Civil Rights Act doesn’t begin to run until the last discriminatory act by an employer.

What’s most needed now is enactment of the Paycheck Fairness Act that’s been pending for a dozen years. The bill made it through the House last year, but was blocked by Senate Republicans. Obama, who voted for the bill as a senator, is certain to sign the new bill – if it’s not kept from him by a Republican filibuster in the Senate.

The Fairness Act would close loopholes in the 1963 Equal Pay Act that have made it relatively easy for employers to pay women less than their male co-workers holding the same jobs. The law would empower women to negotiate with employers for equal pay; prohibit retaliation against workers who share salary information with co-workers; strengthen government outreach, education and enforcement, and generally make the law much stronger.

There ‘s no doubting President Obama’s firm support for the act. As he’s said, “We won ‘t truly have an economy that puts the needs of the middle class first until we ensure that when it comes to pay and benefits at work, women are treated like the equal partners they are.”

Dick Meister, former labor editor of the SF Chronicle and KQED-TV Newsroom, has covered labor and politics for a half-century. Contact him through his website, www.dickmeister.com

The new Amber: Can you go home again?

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We’re not at Amber anymore. Photo by Darwin Bell

Blame it on “Fringe,” but I’ve been thinking a lot about alternate realities lately – you know, the possibility that there’s a parallel universe a lot, but not quite exactly, like this one. Perhaps there’s still a Molly Freedenberg, but in the alternate reality, she’s a doctor, not a writer. Or San Francisco is a mecca for conservatives. Or Amber is a non-smoking cocktail lounge.

Oh wait. This last one, as of January 16, is true. And a parallel universe is exactly what I felt like I was in when I visited the bar on 14th and Church that’s served for three years as my living room, my last stop, my birthday party venue, and, not insignificantly, one of the last pieces of proof I could hold on to that smoking is cool, cosmopolitan, and bohemian, and not simply insane and self-destructive.

The strange thing about the new Amber, now called the Residence, is the way it still refers to its past incarnation. The seating is arranged the same way in the room, though it’s now leather and whicker, rather than wood and ’80s upholstery. The bar’s in the same place, though the countertops are sanded down and stacked bottles of Stoli have been replaced by Grey Goose and St. Germain’s on dark wood shelves (with mirrors behind them)! The bartenders are the same, but Phil wore a black shirt and tie rather than his green ’70s jacket. Even the bathrooms are in the same place, but now sport floral and striped wallpaper. It felt like some kind of de ja vus. Something about this place is eerily familiar, but I know I haven’t been here before.

It took me a good hour to stop staying What The Fuck? This sentiment was seemingly echoed by another regular I’ve often seen stop by with his big shaggy dog who entered the bar and stood still, dumbfounded, for a good five minutes before finding his usual spot near the wall.

Shock withstanding, though, I have to admit that what the folks at Nonsmoking Amber (as my friends are calling it) have done is nothing short of amazing – and bold. Not only did they completely transform Amber’s interior and identity in two weeks, but they dared to tamper with an institution that has many die-hard loyal fans. It has yet to be seen whether the same crowd who appreciated the kitschy ’70s TV set and bathrooms better used for any purpose than actually peeing will also appreciate the new, more sophisticated vibe at Residence. I also wonder what kind of new crowd will be attracted to the new spot, which features cocktails with ingredients like absinthe and ginger liqueur for $8 and no PBR (though there is Hamm’s and Olympia, perhaps as a nod to exactly those regulars), and how they’ll get along with the old Amber crowd. I have a feeling there will be some spill over from the folks who’ve fallen in love with Blackbird, meaning swankier dressers and better tippers. Can everyone get along? Or will those who loved the gritty weirdness of the corner that used to house Amber, the Transfer, and the Expansion find another place for smokes and coke?

Either way, it seems the folks at Residence are ready for change. When I expressed my sadness over Amber’s impending revamp (though, thankfully, not closing), Pete, co-owner of both ventures, said, “It’s time for Amber to grow up, and for our clients to too.” Whether that’s because the bar business is demanding a move towards mixology (though Residence bartenders don’t want to be called or considered “mixologists”), impending anti-smoking laws would require a dramatic change of culture anyway, or the co-owners of Amber were ready for a bit of personal growth, the reasons don’t seem to matter. Like the college days that Amber always reminded me of, all things must pass. Unlike my school dorms, however, which are now filled with new people and new energy, Residence still has the people, location, and casual vibe that I loved about Amber. In fact, if this new, more subdued, higher-end iteration survives, I believe it’ll be because of the things it shared with its earlier self. There are lots of places in San Francisco selling fancy drinks in well-designed rooms. But going to Residence still feels like visiting friends. I wouldn’t be embarrassed to order the cheap whiskey, but I might be inspired to get the Manhattan instead. And so what if I can’t wear my pajamas there anymore and I have to smoke inside? At least I can finally take my nonsmoking friends there without having to offer to do their laundry in the morning.

Derby 1975: “Bananas were the fastest fruit I could think of”

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By Marke B.

Via Boing Boing, this video was posted by Mike Haeg on his blog. It’s an amazingly well-put-together feature-length documentary of the famed 1975 Artists’ soap box derby, benefitting the SFMOMA. The doc was made in 1977 by Amanda Pope, and the vehicles are the parents of today’s rough and tumble art cars. (For more Burning Man prescience, listen for the sound clip from participant David Best, the guy who makes all those beautiful playa temples…)

The Incredible San Fancisco Artists’ Soapbox Derby, 1975. from Mike Haeg on Vimeo.

The quotes therein are delicious. Says Mike: “I stumbled across and purchased an actual print of this film back in SF while working on a project for the SFMOMA. Amanda Pope did a great job capturing the spirit of creativity and the event itself. I wonder where all of these cars are today?”

I wonder most about the banana, and the hot bearded guy in the Berkeley bakery. Soap box!

Nite Trax: Tiger & Woods

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Marke B. goes on about recent dance tracks he loves. See the previous Nite Trax here.

Edit nation is still in full effect, with some amazing laptop Special Extended Disco Versions being put out by the likes of Wolf + Lamb, Tensnake, Soul Clap, and our very own Golden Goose — taking those old, warped, uncanny soul classics into new territory with contempo-technological effects for the post-minimal nightlife set. Turn on the red light.

 

This one by Tiger & Woods, oddly titled “Gin Nation” (a swipe at England somehow, where the stunning 1982 original of this song was extremely popular?), is on everyone’s radar lately. T&G claim they are “shrouded in mystery!” — oh so trendy right now as the underground balks against Internet instant access to retain some allure, and get back that white label feeling (sans vinyl of course.) The echoey build and chopped verses add smoothly up to a fantastic climax. If anything’s coming out of these “closer edits,” it’s an exciting reconstruction of traditional song (and traditional techno) structures ….

Here’s the original, “Music and Lights” from one of my childhood faves, Imagination (big ups Leee John). See the Top of the Pops appearance with equally stunniing outfits here.

Atlanta beats the pants off SF — again

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Hot guys mostly not in their underwear at Atlanta’s 2009 Pride Parade

In general, San Franciscans deal with an existential crisis in one of two ways: binge drinking or making idle threats to move to New York. Usually, it’s a combination of both. Concerning the latter, we frequently cite the Big Apple’s better nightlife, for which we are prepared to sacrifice amazing food, outrageously mild weather, and overall happiness and sense of well-being.

Our behavior needs to stop. Listen, whatever problems you may have, New York isn’t going to solve them for you. I learned this lesson the hard way. Once upon a time, I turned threat into reality. I packed up all my things, threw myself a teary goodbye party, and got an apartment in Williamsburg. Several months later, I was happily back in San Francisco. It was embarrassing.

Here’s a piece of advice. Next time you hate your life, instead of threatening to move to New York City, why don’t you threaten to move to Atlanta?

 

I’m serious. Last year, a Trojan sex study revealed that Atlantans are “most sexually satisfied” out of 10 cities surveyed. San Francisco ranked dead last. 73% of Atlantans participating in the survey professed to have satisfying sex. That’s pretty good.

I know what you’re thinking. Back then, I was skeptical too. Now, I’m prepared to suspend some of my disbelief. The Advocate just published an article on the 15 gayest cities in America, based on the number, per capita, of gay couples, gay bars, cruising spots, and gay films on Netflix queues, among other criteria. The gayest city, of course, was revealed to be… Atlanta?

What is it with this place?

San Francisco wasn’t even on the list. Mike Albo writes, “This admittedly subjective search reveals spots that are much more pink than you might think. Determined by a completely unscientific but accurate statistical equation, these gayest cities may surprise you. Iowa City, Austin, and Asheville have more gays per capita than the biggies.” On Atlanta, he says, “Atlanta guys are hunky… And who doesn’t love the sweet lilt of a Georgia accent on a knockout guy or gal?”

Admittedly, the Southern accent is cute. Next time you are sexually or otherwise frustrated enough to utter that old “I’m moving to New York” platitude, why not replace “New York” with “Atlanta”? Atlanta has better weather, a lower cost of living, and good-looking people, and the stats show that, whether straight or gay, Atlantans are having a lot of great sex. Repeat after me: “I’m moving to Atlanta!”

Before I get labeled a disgraceful turncoat, I’ll admit I’m arguing Atlanta’s case on the basis of reverse psychology. Those temporarily dissatisfied with the Bay Area might finally have a cure for their existential malaise! Imagine waking up tomorrow to find yourself living in Atlanta. Let that thought marinate for a while. You live in Atlanta. Suddenly, things don’t seem so bad here, do they.

 

Street Threads: Jai

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SFBG photog Ariel Soto scoops SF street fashion. See the previous Look of the Day here.

Today’s Look: Jai, Elsworth and Cortland

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Tell us about your look: “The look is just me.”

Back to the mat for Ting and the Catholics

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By Ryan Thomas Riddle

What city officials called the “second largest transfer tax event in our city’s history” is set to go back before the Transfer Tax Review Board. The Catholic Archdiocese of San Francisco has filed an appeal, contesting the delinquent tax value of the board’s Dec 4. ruling that states an estimated $14.4 million in transfer taxes are owed to the city.

Last month, the board ruled 3-0 in favor of Assessor-Recorder Phil Ting’s assertion that the church has to pay transfer taxes for its extensive 2008 property shuffle. Ting told the Guardian that particular decision isn’t what’s being challenged here. While the church has threatened to challenge the basic ruling in court, it is also contesting the exact value of the delinquent transfer taxes owed, he said.

In fact, Ting went before the Board of Supervisors on Tuesday, Jan. 26, to begin lien proceedings against the Archdiocese for the money owed. However, the church’s recent appeal has tabled that for now.

Source switch clouds SF’s water

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By Jobert Poblete

If you’ve noticed that your water has been looking a little off recently, you aren’t the only one. The San Francisco Public Utilities Commission (SFPUC) is warning Bay Area residents that tap water may look cloudy for the next few weeks while maintenance and construction work is completed on the pipeline that delivers pristine water from the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir in Yosemite National Park.

Work on the pipeline shut off the flow from Hetch Hetchy, which normally supplies around 85 percent of San Francisco’s water. In the meantime, residents will be drinking water sourced closer to home from reservoirs in the Peninsula and East Bay.

SFPUC officials assure consumers that the water is safe. The cloudiness is caused by the presence of air bubbles introduced in the pipelines by the construction work and by an increased rate of flow at an East Bay
treatment plant. The department recommends letting drinking water stand for a few minutes to give the air bubbles a chance to break apart.

SFPUC is taking advantage of low seasonal water demand to perform regular maintenance and to complete work as part of the Water System Improvement Program, a multi-year, $4.6 billion upgrade of the region’s water infrastructure. The Hetch Hetchy pipeline is expected to be back on-line by February 19.

Gonna mixtape you up in my love

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Damn straight. Photo via tapedeck.org

Mixtapes were the bomb, right? They represented dedication; time spent crouching by your boombox, starting and stopping and racing for the ‘record’ button when that song came on the radio (early piracy?). The order of songs, the meaning of songs… remember when you’d even record sweet nothings in between tracks for that special someone?

The last mixtape in my possession was made for me by one of my best friends (shout out to you, A cup!) when we were 15 years old, to bring on my exchange student summer in Mexico. It contained the following classics:

1. “The Bad Touch” (the ‘Discovery Channel’ song) by the Bloodhound Gang
2. “I Get Around” by Tupac Shakur
3. “Thug Passion” by Tupac Shakur
4. “Ojos Asi” by Shakira
5. “Bye Bye Bye” by N*SYNC

Equal parts gangster, pervert, Latinphile and vapid teenybopper; I must have listened to it hundreds of times. It was perversely enjoyable trying to translate Bloodhound Gang lyrics to my host mom the day she let me play the tape in her minivan. That mix was me, analog.

And it so it is with a certain fondness I look forward to the San Francisco Mixtape Society’s second quarterly tape exchange. Come with a tape full of memories, leave with someone else’s, down a few, partake in raffles with prizes from Matador Records and, of course, enjoy the sweet, sweet melodies of cut and pasted audio pleasure. Fyi, the theme of the afternoon is “Cities vs. Towns.” It’s enough to make you toss your Ipod and realize- with an unpleasant start- that your car no longer has a tape deck. Oh, fickle technology!

SF Mixtape Society get-together
Sun/31 4-6 p.m., free
The Make-Out Room
3225 22nd St., SF
(415) 647-2888
www.sfmixtapesociety.com