SFBG Blogs

Let’s get ready to ruuuuuuuuummmmmble!!!

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By Steven T. Jones

The budget battle of the decade will erupt at City Hall over the next few hours, with firefighters, cops, and representatives of Mayor Gavin Newsom rallying out front at 1 p.m. and the providers and users of other city services – those slashed by Newsom, from public health to parks to social services – rallying with progressive supervisors in the same spot at 12:30 p.m.
Newsom spokesperson Nate Ballard denied accusations of improper coordination between Newsom and firefighters, who are represented by Eric Jaye, who is also running Newsom gubernatorial campaign. “There is an ethical wall between the Mayor and Eric Jaye on these issues, ” Ballard said. “[Newsom] agrees with the firefighters, but he is not involved with planning the rally. Maybe he’ll stop by.”
Expect fireworks and angry accusations being traded before both sides file into Board Chambers at 2 p.m. as supervisors consider an interim budget that shifts $82 million in Newsom cuts over to the public safety departments that actually got small budget increases despite the $438 million deficit.
Newsom did finally follow through on his seven-month-old pledge to work with supervisors yesterday, meeting with Board President David Chiu and Budget Committee Chair John Avalos, but they failed to resolve the impasse. As Chiu told us, “We didn’t hear anything from the mayor that would change where we were last week.”
In other words: Game on!

Street art pics: Osama-Obama milk cartons glimpsed

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Sketchy: Osama street art modified. Photo by Kimberly Chun.

By Kimberly Chun

Recession schmecession – it’s good to see SF’s scrumbly crumbly anti-tradition of street art carrying on despite the big-wheel art-market smash-ups. Welcome to the first in a series of snaps. And thanks to Fecal Face honcho and former Guardian contributor/columnist John Trippe for the reminder of this unsung genius’ work. I saw the altered example above not long before last year’s November election (check the Animosity poster) and got way irked. Trippe spied the proper article, below, and posted it on www.fecalface.com/cellphotos/ the other day …

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Got milk: the real dealie? Courtesy of Fecal Face.

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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

Today’s Look: Marina, Ferry Building

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Tell us about your look: “This is just what I threw on for work today.”

Corporations co-opt local

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Click here to read this week’s article, Corporations co-opt “local” by Stacey Mitchell.

Interview: “Humpday” director Lynn Shelton

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By Mara Math

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In Humpday, two longtime straight male friends just reunited dare each other to have gay sex on camera for the amateur erotic film fest of the title, a dare that will test the boundaries of friendship, marriage, and self-definition. San Francisco Bay Guardian talked with director Lynn Shelton.

San Francisco Bay Guardian: What inspired the inventive plot?

Lynn Shelton: The starting point was actor Mark Duplass. I was looking for an idea for a film to center around him. And then when a straight filmmaker friend came back from Hump! (formerly Humpday), the real amateur porn festival in Seattle, and he was just fascinated by his first look at gay porn, and I thought it was really amusing and sweet. And I started thinking about the relationships between straight guys and gayness, and the tension inherent in super-passionate but platonic straight male friendships. There’s this low-grade homophobia — they don’t hate gay people but they still have residual anxiety about their own relationship to homosexuality. I find that very poignant, and I also loved the absurd deliciousness of taking two straight guys who are being so straight — it’s really about the extremities of straightness, in a way — that they can’t back down from this dare that neither of them wants to carry out … and that in fact is to be gay for a day.

OMG this is horrifying

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By Tim Redmond

Jesus, this is about as bad as it gets: The Chron now has a blog by two Getty brothers writing about what it’s like to be rich:

By the way: there are slews of people richer than we are, just in this neighborhood. We’re more famous for being rich than we really are rich. But we have enough to belong to the leisure class, meaning we get to spend very little of our time doing anything we don’t feel like, and we have means to sample, if not to gorge on, pleasures that most people, sad to say, won’t likely ever share in — things like yacht trips and safaris, ludicrously expensive wine, and private jet travel. You can be richer than we are, but you can’t live a whole lot better without mere ostentation

And:

You can easily make far better hot dogs at home than they give you in the luxury boxes.

I mean, I’m stunned. I don’t even know where to start.

Found: Haight Street Bingo

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SFBG Assistant Art Director Ben Hopfer found this gem at this Sunday’s ever-ambivalence-provoking Haight Street Fair. While not quite possessing the satiric teeth of Hipster Bingo or the blush-ready stab of Blipster Bingo, it certainly has its own, slighty dated (wallet chains, really?) charm.

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The Monk’s Kettle: A “destination” beer tour for the refined yet unpretentious

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By Susan White

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If you’re looking for a classy way to get drunk in the middle of the week – sans the extravagant snobbery of the Marina – you might want to try partaking in one of the Monk’s Kettle’s beer-pairing dinners, now held the first Wednesday of every month.

The Monk’s Kettle is a craft-beer bar located near 16th and Valencia, smack in the middle of our city’s bustling Mission District. Unlike typical gastropubs, this one prides itself on its slightly upscale atmosphere and unique variety of brews (over 150 on its constantly rotating menu, not including the 24 they keep on tap at all times). Yet this tavern doesn’t harbor an exclusive or imposing attitude. According to co-founder Christian Albertson, who opened the establishment in 2007, the Monk’s Kettle merely seeks to “educate” its consumers on the extensive world of beer, providing a friendly and relaxed environment in which to do so. Each of its staff members are trained to recommend brews based on individuals’ tastes, and each course on the menu is listed with suggested beer pairings to go with it. Combining food and beer seems to be a tradition the founders have upheld from inception – only now have they decided to make it an official event.

On June 3, the Monk’s Kettle offered a five-course beer dinner featuring Deschutes Brewery of Oregon, whose representatives were there to host the event. Guests were required to pay a steep cover charge of 80 dollars per person and make reservations in advance (well in advance – according to Albertson, their beer-pairing dinners are now “booked until next April”).

Why homicides are down

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By Tim Redmond

I’ve always been fascinated by this trend: The number of near-fatal shootings in San Francisco greatly exceeds the number of homicides, and while the mayor trumpets the falling murder rate, the number of people shot in the city isn’t dropping at all.

What’s happening? Well, I’m with Sup. Ross Mirkarimi:

San Francisco General Hospital’s trauma unit, one of the best in the country and where virtually all gunshot victims in The City are treated, also deserves some credit, Mirkarimi said.

“They are an unsung hero in this case,” he said.

Let’s face it: The reason only 20 people are dead from homidices in San Francisco so far this year is in part because the folks at the SF General Trauma Center are stitching a lot of shooting victims back together and keeping them alive. In a lot of places in the world (and sad to say, in a lot of places in the US) the number of people who dies after getting shot would be considerably higher.

And I wonder: At some point, will all these cuts to the public health budget start to impact the Trauma Center? And at that point, will the homicide rate go up — not because of more shootings but because we can’t afford as a city to save as many lives?

Grim thought, but sadly appropriate.

Jane of The Jungle: Zookeeper Jane Tollini on life, love, and sex in the animal kingdom

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By Justin Juul. Read part two of this interview here.

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Woo at the Zoo, the afterparty

Being a part-time sex writer is tough because there’s only so much you can say about the topic. Lovemaking is a lot like eating in that way; we all have peculiar ways of doing it, specific attractions to wildly different things, and often-clashing ideas about what’s good and bad, right and wrong, etc. But it’s not like we’re breaking a lot of new ground when we talk about these things; we’re just sharing stories and ideas about an urge and all the weird stuff that happens when we try to satisfy it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that sex is boring or that I don’t enjoy writing about it; it’s just that sometimes I need a break. That’s why I tracked down this month’s featured sexpot, Jane Tollini. Tollini is not a sex worker. She doesn’t do porn and she doesn’t work for a dildo company. Why interview her for a sex blog then? Well, Tollini offers something that bookish porn stars, ex-manwhores, and transsexual southerners don’t. She offers a sex writer the chance to talk about something other than humans fucking. Instead I get to talk about animals fucking. Yay!

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Jane talks facts of life

As a life-long veteran of the San Francisco Zoo (she lived next to it as a child, served almost 20 years there as a penguin keeper, and now works as a consultant), Tollini has seen it all. From donkey shows, to masturbating raccoons, to highly questionable cross-species relationships; you name it and Tollini’s got a story. By the time she’d been at the zoo for a year, Tollini realized she had enough material to host her own beastly sex forum so she grabbed a microphone and never looked back. Tollini’s “Sex Tour,” now known as “Woo at The Zoo,” is an annual romp through the world of sex in the animal kingdom. It happens every Valentine’s day at The San Francisco Zoo, but you can check it out early this year on June 25th when Tollini will be hosting a special kick-off to Pride Week at The California Academy of Sciences called “How Animals Do It.” Tickets available here.

Part One: Gay penguins, animals with two dicks, and the way it used to be

SFBG: So how did you become San Francisco’s premier animal sex guru?
Jane Tollini: I met a pair of lesbian geese named Alice and Gertrude. They stood out to me because, even thought hey had full access to a male goose named Henry Miller, they didn’t want to be with him. Alice and Gertrude laid eggs for each other and then they took care of them as a couple. It was such strange behavior; I just couldn’t help wondering what other kinds of kinky things animals got into. Well, as an animal keeper, I soon found out. When you get to the zoo first thing in the morning, you see a lot of things other people don’t see, believe me. I remember thinking things like “My God, it’s longer than my arm! It’s got a flowering doohickey on the end of it!” Soon after I started at the zoo, I was put in charge of the penguins and that’s when I really started to notice some weird behavior.

Harmony Festival: Having your CAKE and eating it too

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By Molly Freedenberg

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Skaters dropped three stories before hitting this 18-foot vert ramp in the Rude Boyz Eco Cup Zone. Photo from the Harmony Festival blog.

Like most of us, I had a hippie phase. I wore Birkenstocks. I lived on a commune … ahem … in an intentional community. And I frequented festivals that featured jam bands and booths full of rasta-colored beanies. Then I graduated from college.

Some of my other interests and habits from high school remain with me: punk rock, cigarettes, skater boys. But my interest in festivals like last weekend’s Harmony went the way of baggy jeans, ankh necklaces, and smoking pot. That is, simply, it went away. Until now.

This year, the annual Santa Rosa event expanded its usual granola-and-glow-sticks offerings (no offense to those of you who went for Michael Franti or The Orb) to include punk bands and a skate park. Be still my 16-year-old heart … Dead Kennedys? Thirty-year-old men in low-slung shorts who dedicate their lives to a wooden stick with four wheels? I had to go. Plus, Cake – one of my all-time favorite bands – was headlining Friday night.

‘Won’t You Stay?’: A peek behind the curtain

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By Rebecca Bowe

One of the first-ever showings of Adam Chanzit’s Won’t You Stay?, a work in progress, was held at the Ashby Stage on June 8 before a full audience.

The play poses questions about the consequences of extreme idealism by chronicling the lives of three college students as they transition to adulthood in New York City. Jacob, the protagonist, initially comes off as a workaholic entrepreneur who likens his ambition to a Jaguar speeding through the fast lane. He undergoes a transformation after having a profound experience in Siberia that is never fully articulated, but evoked bit by bit through monologues and original music. As time goes on, Jacob becomes increasingly obsessed with aiding people in need — but his frantic quest to end suffering is accompanied by his own descent into mental illness. His precarious path on the edge is contrasted with that of his girlfriend, Alice, and his best friend, Noel, whose own lives follow a more familiar progression from free-spirited college kids to conventional urban professionals.

Chanzit, whose plays have been produced in New York, Los Angeles, New Haven and Denver in addition to the Bay Area, says he felt it was important to solicit feedback not just from people involved with theater, but college and graduate students, people working in the mental-health sector and others. While many staged readings are closed to all but a few select colleagues, invitations to this event were targeted to reflect a much wider community.

After the 90-minute performance, Chanzit, director Mina Morita and producer Shane Boris opened up a dialogue with audience members, and an in-depth conversation ensued that touched on everything from interventions for people suffering from mental illness, to nostalgia for the idealism that was exhibited in the 1960s, to reflections on transformational experiences while traveling. “Having a larger and more diverse audience gives you more input into how the performance is working,” Chanzit says. And for the audience, events such as this offer a rare peek behind the curtain: “There’s something exciting about watching a play in development.”

Prison report: Dumping on the counties

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By Just A Guy


Editors note: Just A Guy is an inmate in a California state prison. You can read his last piece, and links to previous ones, here. He will try to respond to all commments, but since communicating from prison is tricky, it may take a while.

How is it that California is going to try and address the prison overcrowding issue and budget shortfall by making crimes that were felonies misdemeanors? Isn’t this rather like borrowing from Pete to pay Paul?

An article in the Wall Street Journal goes over this idea.

Just because the state isn’t, technically, paying for the inmates housed in county jails doesn’t mean that the people of the state aren’t paying for it. I certainly see that a long-term solution is to reduce crimes and lower the prison population through more progressive sentencing laws, and de-criminalizing some things, AND providing rehabilitation. But I just don’t get how this plan is going to help with the current problem of California’s budget deficit or the huge overcrowding problem.

The bottom line, according to representatives from counties across the state, is that our local jails are already at, or near capacity, and that all that is going to happen is a large portion of the prison population (20,000) will shift to county jails. This will, ultimately, cause an increase in crime.

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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

Today’s Look: Sam, Dolores Park

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Tell us about your look: “I like to borrow girl’s clothes.”

San Mateo the new Chinatown? Everyday Beijing slings a mean stir-fried pancake strip

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Biscuits and gravy: Stir-fried wheat and corn meal biscuit, left, and stir-fried strips of pancakes are a few “hometown specials from old Beijing,” as EBR puts it. Photo by Kimberly Chun.

By Kimberly Chun

Note to self: forget Grant, Clement, and even Irving Street – I’m beginning to believe that San Mateo is the real Chinatown. Every time I venture south to the Peninsula ‘burb, right around B Street and 25th Street, I’m stumbling over some great little dumpling joint or unpretentious enclave of regional Chinese cooking, tucked away in an otherwise shrug-worthy strip mall.

My latest find: Everyday Beijing Restaurant on the sleepy, sunny end of South B Street, across the way from a newish, cavernous branch of Espetus Churrascaria. A spartan interior in the tradition of no-nonsense Chinese dive restaurants, though the space is bright and airy. But what a menu: the long-form dinner version is 150 items deep (give or take a beer or four). Not only do you get only-viable-if-you’re-Chinese items like marinated pig ear strips, but mystery items like “Tofu Cluster with Beijing Sauce.” I haven’t had a cluster in eons!

Show Diary: Neko Case/Jason Lytle, Peaches, Juan McLean/the Field, Telepathe, Handsome Furs, Au Revoir Simone

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Juan, two, three: the Juan Maclean. Photo by Troy Bayless.

By Kimberly Chun

Impressionistic sketches, hazy watercolor memories of the way I listened last week, before the veil of forgetfulness falls.

Dang, I wish I had a proper camera in hand to get my shutterbug on at Peaches. The lady wasn’t going to let a little vault fire get in the way of her Grand Ballroom performance on June 5: she remains one of the most riveting performers to come out of electroclash on a sheer show-womanship level, and now that she has her live band, the Herms, complete with a leggy, black corseted blond guitar player who obligingly shimmies along to the boss lady’s “Shake your tits, shake your dick,” she’s pretty unstoppable. Essentially – no lie – everyone in the room could not tear their eyes away from Peaches’ ever-shifting spectacle, even if Vault Fire II broke out in the next room.

One-man UK opener Drums of Death made me consider suicide, but Peaches made up for it with a bout of crowd-surfing, a romp at the outer edge of the balcony, a slew of impressive costume changes (she poked fun at herself by coming out onstage in a robe at one point), and plenty of brain-teasing visuals, including a video-projected duet with Shunda K of Yo Majesty for “Billionaire” and a dance with super-shaggy Cousin-Its to the tune of “Talk to Me.”

The next night, June 6, saw Stockholm’s Axel Willner, otherwise known as the Field, hunkered down behind the decks at Mezzanine, opening for the Juan Maclean. Love the dreamy new long-player, though the show drew more from a minimalist techno vein, with assists from Dan Enqvist and Andreas Soderstrom. Still, it was mesmerizing – especially accompanied by video art that spliced images of shipping containers stacks with book piles. I stayed for just a dab of the Juan Maclean, who rocked the Human League-y robotic-pop vibe with mucho energy. Kudos to those who can pull off a nice, big Romulan shoulder pad – I’m scouring the thrift stores for mine soon. The kids were dancing as I departed amid complaints of pop monotony from companion Prof. Fluffy.

Super Ego: More Universal gay diva musings

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By Marke B.

My fantasy gay post-diva dance music, y’all:

La Prohibida, “Flash”

In this week’s Super Ego clubs column, I interview local circuit diva-in-training Caroline Lund, and get into some ideas I’ve been chewing on about the state of gay dance music, now that the mainstream has embraced outright divadom. I started thinking about all this, funnily enough, when I got stranded in Vegas for a day a couple weeks ago (missed my flight, typical). Against my better punkrock instincts, I ended up totally engrossed in the Cher and Bette Boutique in Caesar’s Palace, which sold innumerable tchotckes bearing those two classic divas’ likenesses, both of whom have wildly successful shows running in the theater that was built for, ugh, Celine Dion. I bought a Cher mug and shirt. (Side note: the boutique was staffed by Burner-looking FTMs. Then: Chastity Bono became Chaz. But I digress.)

My somewhat-valid prejudices about the circuit scene are no secret to my amazing readers. All three of marvelous you. But because some interpreted the column as broadsiding vocal house in general, not just the really boring screamy phony kind, I wanted to clarify. I’m a proud if slightly-closeted freak for vocal house histrionics of the soulful, gospel-derived variety. Throw on a classic Ann Nesby or La india track and my dancey pants get even wetter. The Jesus squealing can occasionally wear me out, but I get lifted by the spirit. And this little number has basically been my personal theme song for the past 17 years, getting me through some real situations:

Martha Wash, “Carry On”

Which kind of leads into this: The other day I got Facebooked to join the group “I remember Club Universe” – something Caroline Lund and I (and thousands of others) have in common. Throughout the ‘90s, up until that massive, all-swallowing Saturday night ground zero for vocal house (run by the great Audrey Joseph, now of the city’s Entertainment Commission) closed in 2002, Lund coordinated the dancers who wriggled on the risers until well into Sunday morning. Meanwhile, I stumbled around Universe’s huge 177 Townsend space wondering why all the substances I had ingested weren’t making me want to dance more. (Wait a minute, that may have been the source of the problem!)

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OMG, this whirling light spaceship thing at Universe that would dip down and scare tweakers into a frenzy was sooo cheesy.

Take it outside this summer

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By Juliette Tang

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Reading this article about the risks of summer sex in LiveScience got me thinking about how I hate it when these sorts of alarmist articles come out, proclaiming the tired cliche that outdoor sex is bad for you. Not bad in the sense that it might land you in jail or cause you public humiliation if discovered, but bad — i.e. dangerous — because you might get sunburned, risk exposure to bacteria that live outdoors, or get your genitalia stung by a poisonous jellyfish (seriously?) from the ocean. We all understand that going outside to have sex comes with certain risks. But we also know that even though every so often another article will be published reiterating the same message, people will still be having sex outdoors. Let’s face it: outdoor sex is fun and people like it.

Even though sex on the beach might be more burning than hot, with the potential of, literally, sandpapering your sexy bits (sand, friction, ouch!), it’s not like people will simply stop doing it. Entire generations have had their fantasies fueled by the beach scene in From Here to Eternity. As a society, beach and other types of outdoor sex have made it on our collective list of “sex acts to have before you die,” right up there with the menage-a-trois and having sex on an airplane. If we didn’t take our outdoor sex seriously, why is there a book called The 50 Places to Make Love in Golden Gate Park? Instead of merely listing the risks, these articles would be light years more useful if they gave people clear alternatives (sex by the pool, for instance, instead of sex by the beach) or helpful tips on how to make outdoor sex safer. That way, we can all stop freaking out and start getting freaky, especially since summer is finally present — or as present as it will ever be — in San Francisco.

Where’s Gavin?

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By Tim Redmond

So here’s a good one. After Newsom attacked the supervisors in this morning’s Chron, Board President David Chiu and Budget Committee Chair John Avalos decided to pay the mayor a visit. “We wanted to show that we’re open about talking, negotiating on the budget,” Chiu told us. “So we walked into his office to see if he would meet with us.”

Uh, small problem there: “We were told the mayor was out of town.”

Will the Assembly repeal the corporate tax breaks?

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By Tim Redmond

I talked to Assemblymember Tom Ammiano today, and he’s upbeat about the role his house may play in the budget process. He thinks the governor’s threat to shut down the state is just “scare tactics to make the Legislature look bad” and that the Assembly isn’t prepared to accept a “cuts only” budget. “We’re not going to roll over,” he said.

Among other things, he said, the $2.5 billion in tax giveaways to big corporations cpuld be repealed with a simply majority. So the Democratic leadership ought to be making that a priority, and talking it up in the media — would people rather see their state parks close and teachers be fired — or see a tiny number of giant businesses get more tax breaks?

Calitics points out that the CalTaxReform folks have identified $10 billion in new revenue measure that all appear to have majority support in the polls.

So let’s hope the top Democrats call Arnold’s bluff, and offer some real alterntives.

Our guide to the Serge Gainsbourg resurgence

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The true masters never go away, but there’s no denying that Serge Gainsbourg is experiencing a posthumous resurgence of late, one that rivals his Gitane-perfumed popularity in the mid-1990s. This go-round, the emphasis is on Out moments more than pop tracks. Here’s a Playlist guide to the latest touchstones.

Serge Gainsbourg, “Aux Armes … “

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Aux armes et cætera

(Universal, 1979; 4 Men With Beards, 2009)

Gainsbourg went to Jamaica in the late 1970s and made a full-on reggae record. It’s not a novelty at all — in fact, it might be my favorite record of his. Its sizzling, simmering, summertime sound is about as sultry and seductive as any record could dream to be. The equivalent of sinking deep into warm sand and never wanting to wash it off. (Irwin Swirnoff)

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Cannabis

(Philips, 1970; Philips vinyl, 2008)

Saint Etienne kicked off its peerless 2004 contribution to the mix series The Trip with the glam title number of this motion picture soundtrack. The overall album is a rangy delight, benefiting from the fact that it isn’t as strictly conceived as some of Gainsbourg’s other recordings. Highlights include punky blues struts, symphonic hints of his work with Jean-Claude Vannier, tablas-based rhythmic walkabouts, and the occasional soft-core duet between a humming femme and an organ — by which I mean a Hammond keyboard, silly. (Johnny Ray Huston)

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Histoire de Melody Nelson

(Philips, 1971; Light in The Attic, 2009)

Why it’s taken Melody nearly 40 years to get a domestic release remains a mystery, since everyone from Massive Attack to Beck to Portishead has borrowed from it in some way. A perverse tale of forbidden love and tragic death, it is not only Gainsbourg’s finest studio concept, but an epic collaboration of rock band and orchestra. Its combination of doom-laden bass progressions, sinewy acid guitar, and soaring strings remains unparalleled in terms of exquisite execution. (Scott Hewicker)

Obama and DOMA — Ok, this is fucked

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By Tim Redmond

President Obama says he wants to see the Defense of Marriage Act repealed. So why is his Justice Department defending that ridiculous law in court — and in the process, making all kinds of needless disparaging statements about gay people? Ick.

“I am,” Assemblymember Tom Ammiano told us today, “very, very disappointed.”

Me too.

The administration says that DOJ has to defend federal laws that are on the books, but that’s nonsense — the attorney general could decline to defend an indefensible law — and could also make the arguments without invoking incest.

Street Threads: Look of the Day

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

Today’s Look: Sune, 24th Street and Dolores

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Tell us about your look: “The Hamptons meets Noe Valley.”

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