SFBG Blogs

Another reason why: Psychedelic Horseshit and Pink Reason at Hemlock tonight

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Oh, you need another reason to go out tonight, Nov. 14? How about Pink Reason, who I missed at this year’s SXSW but who royally tore schitte up, from what I heard. They play along with, for the first time ever in the Bay Area, Psychedelic Horseshit, at the Hemlock Tavern, on the bill with Goldies winners Wooden Shjips. Horseshit, I saw down in Austin, Texas, and they were superfun: cantankerous late ’70s-styler NYC rock-punk with plenty of good stage patter — me thinks at this point in the evening, Mr. PH announced, “This song is about Deerhunter and their samplers.” Snark!

Whisky, women, and throngs

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Cocktail maven Jonathan Beckhardt reports, tipsily, on last month’s First Annual San Francisco Whiskyfest

A ballroom full of whiskies has done little to excite my pen over the course of the last week. I get jazzed up for these type of events, but am always let down when I remember, for example, that Whiskyfest is not so much a fest as it is a trade show.

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Ready to whisky you away!

Walking from booth to booth, learning about new whiskies, meeting brand “ambassadors,” it’s like the first day of camp — before every one’s parents have left. You go around, meet the other kids, get an idea for what they are like. But you can’t have any fun with them. At Whiskyfest you stroll around to the whiskies, but just get an idea for what each whisky is about. My notes are full of whiskies I enjoyed and were interesting. But I didn’t leave with a fondness for any the way that I would after a special moment with one of them in a bar.

Lightly Oiled Plovers in Hawaii…

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…may be a bad joke, but this is funny!

Spinning Newsom

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I attended SPUR’s regular post-election wrap-up yesterday, which was a bit irregular in that it was almost a week after the election (owing to the delayed election results) rather than the next day and it wasn’t hosted by respected local pollster David Binder. Instead hosting duties were split three ways among consultant Jim Stearns (engineer of the big win this election, Yes on A/No on H), consultant and number cruncher David Latterman, and pollster/hired gun Ben Tulchin of Greenberg Quinlan Rosner Research, whose work I have quibbled with in the past.
And once again, Tulchin claimed to be objective and pointed out that he doesn’t work for Newsom before going on to play the spinning pro-Newsom partisan. “It was historic, it was a landslide, and the mayor and his team deserve a lot of credit,” Tulchin gushed, going on to argue that this election showed the mayor had coattails and was now a force to be reckoned with — all evidence to the contrary.

Feinstein: easy on torture, tough on bay spill response

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By Bruce B. Brugmann

And so the front page head on Monday’s San Francisco Chronicle blared: ‘FEINSTEIN SLAMS SPILL RESPONSE.”
The subhead added: “This…should have never happened.”

Well, this was an easy one of course for Feinstein, pictured by the Chronicle wagging her finger in a characteristic pose of self-righteousness after a briefing on Treasure Island. She could denounce the locals, call for an investigation, and then scurry back to the safety of Washington. If she really wanted to get at the heart of theproblem and show some political courage, she could lead the way in doing what our editorial demanded: “push for legislation that would allow the Coast Guard to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”

She could push for modernizing safety regulations that would allow the Coast Guard’s Vehicle Traffic Service to order preventative action when a ship is heading toward a bridge or a disaster. She could urge Congress to mandate that the owners of ships passing through U.S. coastal waters be fully identified, be accountable for their actions, and post an accident bond to insure they don’t escape liability for disasters.
(What if the ship had so damaged the Bay Bridge that it collapsed with cars on it? The Chronicle reported that the Cosco Busan is a Chinese vessel owned by either a company in Cyprus or one in Hong Kong and managed by a separate Hong Kong outfit. It will take years to get to the bottom of who should pay for the mess. Meanwhile, the public pays and the crab-fishing industry is severely damaged if not ruined for this year.)

She could urge the federal government to seize the ship, impound the cargo, and make clear that nothing is going anywhere until the ownership is identified and the bill is settled. She could urge all of this for national security reasons, since it is conceivable that a terrorist could seize ships laden with oil or explosives and wreak havoc in major harbors.

If her past is any guide, Feinstein is not about to go up against the powerful shipping interests and do anything much beyond an easy call for investigation and a Chronicle headline or two.

After all, when the chips were down on Mukasey for U.S. Attorney General, Feinstein helped subvert San Francisco values in a most egregious way. She announced her early critical support for Mukasey, abandoned Democrats opposing the nomination, led the charge for his Senate confirmation, and voted in effect for torture and to give the job of the nation’s top law enforcement officer in the United States of America to an attorney who would not take a public position against torture.

This was a snapshot of Feinstein’s shameful record: she is tough on bay spill response, easy on torture. And she’s been late and weak and undependable on Bush and the war. B3

Spiritualized at Bimbo’s – and glad about it

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By Todd Lavoie

Oh, I got me some religion Sunday night, Nov. 11, let me tell you: Spiritualized slipped into town for a stop on their North American “Acoustic Mainlines” tour, and the visit was nothing short of revelatory.

Playing to a full house (and perhaps the most attentive, appreciative crowd I’ve seen in eons, for that matter), Jason Pierce/Spaceman and his companions in post-millennial gospel may have never left their seats during the entire show, but that didn’t keep them from lifting us all into rarely realized states of bliss. And yes indeed, while we were all given chairs as well – and a Bimbo’s filled with candlelit tables always sets the tone for a perfect night out, as far as I can tell – I seriously doubt very many of us could say for certain that we were actually sitting down the entire time. I’m not even sure we remained earthbound, to be honest.

After all, this is the band who declared Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (Arista) on the cover of their third album (and universally accepted masterpiece), so the idea of keeping so humdrummingly terrestrial for too long feels like a losing prospect. Don’t fight it – feel it, right? The thing is: up until now, Pierce and co. have mainly relied upon a decidedly rockist approach, fashioning dense layers of sound into narcotic-and-feedback-flavored sanctity.

RIP Cotton Hill, beloved TV curmudgeon and WWII vet

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A meeting of the minds: Hank Hill, from left, Jimmy Carter, and Cotton Hill

By Erik Morse

On Sunday night, Nov. 11, FOX’s King of the Hill committed the ultimate cartoon sin when it saw the demise of cranky septuagenarian and war hero Cotton Lyndal Hill. A cruel gambit by the animators made all the worse as it was committed on Veteran’s Day, Cotton’s death illustrates a rare moment when an animated series has transgressed “Wile E. Coyote” immortality and confronted the loss of a central character. The following obit was released on the television show’s official Web site shortly before the episode’s debut:

“Cotton Hill, age unknown, World War II veteran, died Sunday in a Texas VA hospital. Hill suffered from several injuries ranging from four rusty bullets lodged in his heart from his military service, a broken hip and torn ligaments in his ankle-knees, to an infection in his esophagus and severe burns caused by a freak shrimp accident that occurred earlier this week at Tokyaki’s Japanese restaurant. Hill leaves behind sons Hank Hill and G.H. (short for “Good Hank”); daughter-in-law Peggy Hill; grandson Bobby Hill; ex-wife Tilly; second wife Didi; first love and former Japanese lover Michiko; an illegitimate Japanese son, Junichiro; and nephew Dusty Hill (of band ZZ Top).”

Texas redneck patrician, misogynist, gun lover, American hero, and war amputee, Cotton proved to be one of the most controversial and loveable television characters since the inimitable Archie Bunker. Representing the best and worst qualities of the “Greatest Generation” – its narrowmindedness, prejudices, simplicities as well as its patriotism, courage, and fraternity – Hill was a surrogate grandfather to many of us who had lost our own so many years ago. As a Texan and an obsessive viewer of the series from the beginning, I was startled by the news – Sundays have now lost a bit more of their juvenile innocence.

Censure Dianne!

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I’ve wanted to do this since about 1982, but now there’s a grassroots movement in the California Democratic Party to censure Sen. Dianne Feinstein over her decision to support Michael Mukasey for attorney general.

The party leadership’s going to go nuts over this, but the blogger/grassroots/progressive movement within the party is going to make it into a major issue. How fun.

The vacationing mayor

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This hasn’t been that big a deal in the local press, but isn’t it pretty screwed up that the mayor of San Francisco, the day after an oil spill that was causing catastrophic environmental problems in his city. took off to Hawaii on vacation?

I mean, he’s supposed to be in charge here, supposed to be a leader. He could have postponed his trip a few days, right?

True grace

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By Rita Felciano

Bay Area Odissi dancer Asako Takami died on November 3, 2007 in San Francisco after a four-year battle with ovarian cancer. She was 47 seven years old. Founder and artistic director of the East Bay-based Pallavi Dance Group, Takami was an exquisite dancer and much-revered teacher of who had lived in the Bay Area for fifteen years. As a sign of their love and affection for this remarkable woman and artist, the Bay Area dance community honored her in a benefit at the Cultural Integration Fellowship in San Francisco on October 27, 2007.

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Born in Nigata, Japan, Takami became interested in Odissi, the Indian classical dance style from the state of Orissa, at the age of 20. In 2000, in an interview with Hinduism Today she explained her fascination with the art. “I’d never seen women who were really beautiful and really powerful. That energy I’d never felt in anything — that was my first impression. I could not forget it.” For the next 15 years she studied with Smt. Kumkum Lal and Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra in India and Japan. She gained international attention through her participation in Ralph Lemon’s Tree, part two of “The Geography Trilogy.” The work was performed at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in October 2000.

Mythili Kumar, Artistic Director of Abhinaya Dance Company in San Jose, remembers Takami for her “exquisite grace and perfect technique.” Her death, she said, “is a tremendous loss to the dance world but I feel so fortunate that we got to know such a wonderful, humble and sweet person. We will miss her so much.” Takami is survived by friends and her partner Ralph Lemon. A memorial service will take place Sun/18 at 2 p.m. in the Bolinas Community Center, 14 Wharf Road, Bolinas.

Ammiano: Wine with a whine!

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Today’s Ammianoliner:

Golden Gate Restaurant Association produces new wine. “I don’t want to pay health care.”

(From the answering machine of Sup. Tom Ammiano on Nov. 12, 2007.) B3

Newsom’s numbers back up

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Another set of election results are in, and now Gavin Newsom is up above 72 percent. Interesting that he’s picked up as the precinct ballots are counted; obviously, the absentees were particularly conservative this time around.

PG&E’s Tag on the Golden Gate

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photo courtesy of wmchu on flickr

I’ve ridden my bike across the Golden Gate Bridge hundreds of times, and often stopped to watch the sunset or to look down at the awesome power of the tide ripping by, but yesterday, for the first time, I walked all the way across. I noticed something I’d never seen before.

On the south tower, tucked among all the brass plaques noting the officials and feting the feat of construction that is the bridge, there was a monument to Pacific Gas & Electric, thanking them for donating all the lighting for the bridge.

I was standing with my friend, who’s an electrician, and who wryly noted that it’s PG&E that really won in that deal — the free lighting fixtures just translates to another guaranteed customer.

But what I was thinking was, gee, there was all this dust-up and opposition to any corporate sponsorship of the bridge to raise a portion of the $60 million for future repairs. Despite assurances from authorities that the bridge wouldn’t be renamed or adorned with company banners, it seems that nobody was interested in having the name of a corporation anywhere near the bridge or its immediate environs.

And here we have a corporation that has a long, litigious relationship with San Francisco, that costs taxpayers and ratepayers millions of dollars, and that regularly tries to purchase our goodwill through massive greenwashing campaigns and big dollar donations — and their name is bronzed right onto the bridge.

Nice. Classy.

Extra! Rock Rapids 38 Carroll 0

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By Bruce B. Brugmann

Well, it isn’t Rock Rapids High School any more and it isn’t the almost famous Rock Rapids Lions. It’s now a consolidated high school district and goes under the fancier nomenclature of Central Lyon. (The Central Lyon Lions just doesn’t have it, does it? For the regular Bruce blog readers, you will realize that I am talking about my almost famous hometown of Rock Rapids, Iowa, a little town in northwest Iowa known as the Gateway to the West.)

Jim Wells just flashed me the final score: Central Lyon 35 Carroll 0. A rout and a surprising one since our two quarterbacks have been banged up and it’s been questionable which one could play for how long and with what effectiveness.

Next game is on Saturday for the state championship, a big big thing back in Iowa, much bigger than the presidential primaries. Everybody in town (that’s about 2,800 people) will either be at the game or glued to the radio. I’ll keep you posted.

P.S. This is how things work back in Rock Rapids, by personal contact over the years and the generations. Jim Wells was the cpa for years for my parents at their drugstore, “Brugmann’s Drugs: Where Drugs and Gold are Fairly Sold, Since l902.” And he handled their personal taxes until they died in the early l990s. He is now reporting on Rock Rapids news for the Bruce blog. I am also getting reports from Dave Foltz and others. Dave is the grandson of Glen Foltz, who operated Foltz’s Construction for many years and then became the Lyon County sheriff. He reported earlier that Halloween in Rock Rapids was pretty tame this year and that my boxcar-across-Main Street generation had probably spoiled it for all the succeeding generations.

Working on the Foltz crew, during the summers, was a rite of passage for the young men in town just out of high school or in college. However, my crew was the crew for the Rural Electrification Administration (REA), FDR’s public power agency that brought electricity to the farms. But that is another story for another day.) B3

Seeing Stars

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By Todd Lavoie

Breaking up, breaking down, pulling yourself together, and plunging back into the dating scene to start all over again – sound familiar? Most of us have trod down that road before – the avenue leading us through the entire tumultuous cycle of doomed romance. Oh, the drama! While there certainly are stops along the journey that can be a real hoot – the thrill of discovery, the razzle-dazzle of courtship – later on, many of the landscapes can turn rather damn ugly for a while before things start looking up again.

Eventually, with a bit of persistence, the road will loop right back to the beginning, up with the pretty scenery which lured you within in the first place. Canadian popsters Stars are the audio-tour equivalent of this trek, but here’s the thing: these guides tend to skip right on through the picture-postcard stuff in favor of focusing on what lay farther down the road. The tussles, the tugs-of-war, the tongue-lashings, and then ultimately the breaking up and breaking down and moving on – that’s their turf, their area of authority. So how the hell do they make all of that strain and strife so appealing, so breathtakingly rip-roaring? How do they convince so many hopeful romantics to hop on such a bumpy ride? Get your answers this Tuesday and Wednesday, Nov. 13 and 14, when Stars storm the Bimbo’s stage and explain it all.

As a longtime member of one of those oh-so-sickening “happy loving couples” Joe Jackson sneered about all those years ago from his new wave bachelor pad, maybe I’m no longer an expert on the peaks and troughs of the dating scene – if I ever possessed that sort of wisdom, I gave it up long ago when I met my match. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been single in the city, and yet a spin of a Stars album can send me back to those days quicker than anything, and – here’s a bonus – without resorting to banal chick-flick-isms and the like. Honestly, why does so much so-called “sensitive” art (and maybe I’m being generous here by calling it “art” in the first place) sacrifice intelligence in the process? Me, I’d much rather dip my ears into something a bit more substantial. And that’s the draw of these Montrealers: we’re talking about clever, heartfelt, literate indie-pop here, hurtling from their five fiery souls with such urgency and conviction that even little old domestics like yours truly can pump their fists along to the “love is war” manifestos without feeling the slightest bit out of place. If you’ve ever loved – or, hell, tried to love, even – than any of their four albums will surely speak to some wounded corner of your heart, given the chance. Best of all, you’ll feel better afterwards – a good ‘n deep scrubbing of the insides ain’t ever a bad thing. Whose heart couldn’t benefit from a metaphorical enema now and again?

Pay Back’s A Bitch

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What’s newsworthy about Board of Supervisor President Aaron Peskin changing his vote three weeks ago on Sup. Michela Alioto-Pier charter amendment tightening laws controlling the Ethics, Elections and Sunshine Commissions?

Nothing—except the real reason the Chronicle’s running dogs of the press were dragged out of their kennel this weekend to tear into Peskin’s Oct. 23 change-of-heart vote: the Gap’s Don Fisher is pissed off that he poured $185,000 into Prop. H, only to see it fail on the Nov. 6 ballot. So, now, he and his Republican allies are punishing Peskin for having the nerve to place the ultimately successful Prop. A on the ballot, thus defeating their well-heeled efforts to turn San Francisco into a giant parking lot.

The big news in Rock Rapids

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By Bruce B. Brugmann

There is no bigger news, nor more excitement, in Rock Rapids, Iowa, and the other little towns in the Midwest, than when their high school has a winning football season.
(Sometimes, it is basketball or baseball.)

Our football team at Central Lyon is now in the semi-finals in the state tournament in Cedar Falls, putting a 23 game winning streak on the line, and is playing right now this afternoon.

Jim Wells is flashing me the play by play. He reports that most of the town is at the game.

First play of the game: “WE LOVE IT!!!!! First play of the game. Carroll has the ball. Central Lyon gets touchdown!!!! C.L. 7-0”

Next report: Halftime score: Central Lyon 28-Carroll 0.

I’ll keep you posted. B3

What was the Coast Guard thinking?

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SFist has posted a link from BoatingSF that shows the path of the Cosco Busan, based on freely available data that even amateur boaters have. The Chronicle reports that the Coast Guard knew the ship was headed for the bridge. The Vehicle Tracking Service on Yerba Buena Island has sophisticated radar and GPS gear and can watch every damn boat on the Bay; why didn’t anyone tell the captain and pilot to get back on course?

The Dan Wilson peppermint latte, or how it feels to be free

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By Benedict Sinclair

Sometimes there’s a mood. One where dessert must coat the human drama. You need a pleasure, perhaps a guilty one. The kind of sublimity you’ll find in the songwriting of Dan Wilson, Grammy Award-winning craftsman behind the Dixie Chicks’ “Not Ready to Make Nice” and frontperson for alt-rockers Semisonic. Wilson once penned the Grammy-nominated radio classic “Closing Time” with the band. Nowadays he’s mechanically churning out sweet, catchy, safe, comfortable songs about the ladies of his pop life.

His latest release, Free Life, is mixed in the direction of lite Nigel Godrich: its clean and balanced sonic landscape focuses on a sparse set of pleasing soft-rock ballads about relationship politics. There’s a dash of lush country, a sprinkling of candy chords, a hint of Coldplay, and a smidgen of chorus harmonies. For better at times and worse at others, Wilson also reveals a ’90s alternative attitude beneath his polished top layers.

As traditional as the album is there’s something to be said for its professionalism. Wilson’s a born performer, as he will surely prove on Sunday, Nov. 11, opening for the equally lush folkalist Sondre Lerch at the Swedish American Music Hall, above Café du Nord. Yet Wilson’s lyrics aren’t written or placed in a terribly evocative way – definitely his weak spot here. “Runnin, all around all around / all kinds of beautiful,” he sings between verses composed of toss-away free advice on “All Kinds.”

Waterboarding Dianne Feinstein’s hair?

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Today’s Ammianoliner:

Mukasey pledges not to waterboard Dianne Feinstein’s hair. It’s been tortured enough, he said.

(From the answering machine of Sup. Tom Ammiano on Friday, Nov. 9, 2007.)

Can I get a diva? Roisin Murphy to the rescue

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By Todd Lavoie

Looking for something sass-alicious to wrap your ears around? Something deep and soulful and dripping with attitude? Former Moloko vocalist Roisin Murphy has just released her second solo disc, Overpowered (EMI), and it’s a floor-burner. What a way to spend an hour and work off some cold-weather calories – looks like Murphy is several steps further into divahood.

I’m picky about my divas. Sorry, but a set of bottomless lungs and an octave-leaping vocal range ain’t always a sure-fire point-of-entry into Divaland for me – otherwise, I’d have to include the likes of Mariah Carey as part of the soundtrack to my quest to get in touch with my more feminine side. Nah, the Glitter girl can keep her bird-squawks to herself, and while we’re at it, a great big pass on J-Lo and Whitney (is it even relevant to bring the latter up at this point, I wonder as her shame-spiral/ future Lifetime movie fodder lifestyle keeps her careening further and further from the mic). All style and no substance – and even the notion of style is up for debate in these cases – makes for a pretty lousy diva recipe, the way I see it. Where’s the depth? Where’s the soul? Don’t we deserve more than just mere artifice?

And don’t even ask me about Fergie.

The oil spill — how to help

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Well, in the end we need to recognize that this was a disaster waiting to happen with thousands of ships coming into the bay carrying nasty fuel oil and a Coast Guard that appeared to be lackadasical about the potential for disaster.

But for now, sfist has a nice handy guide on how you can help.

Hummus for the Holidays

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Tired of turkey? Had it with ham? Chucking the…yeah, well, you get the idea.

By Amber Peckham

If the holiday fare for the last few years has become as boring as your relatives, you might want to sign up for the free – yes, free – vegan cooking class being offered by Wellness Central on November 18. The class will be held in the Loughborough Center and will last around 90 minutes. Vegan nutritionist Patricia Allen Koot will present, and nationally syndicated host of Go Vegan Radio, Bob Lynden, also will make an appearance.

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Without the Wellness Central class, this is what your meat-free meal will look like.

Collage Party at Creative Growth

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If you’re wondering what to do today, there is surely nothing better than joining The Collage Party at Creative Growth, winners of this year’s Lifetime Achievement Goldie award.
I’ll be there in spirit, because there are few things I love more than collage (I’ve got a dozen unfinished projects at home, so I’ll cut jewels from Sotheby’s catalogues when I get there tonight).

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photo of a Collage Party in Berlin

The Collage Party is one part of Creative Growth’s Public Art Making Day, which connects Winnipeg artist Paul Butler’s nomadic collage project (on view at the space’s gallery) with an audio-visual program curated by Jennifer Maerz and the premiere of A Mixed Bag of Trippy Shorts, a new film (or film collection) by the Prince of Calgary, Guy Maddin, whose new feature-length movie gives Detour’s Ann Savage her best film role in over a half-century.
Ladies and gentleman, take out your scissors and start cutting.

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Ann Savage in Guy Maddin’s My Winnipeg

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