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The Guardian’s Local Sex-Positive Blog

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

 

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

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!

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.”

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

Street Threads: Vivian

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

Today’s Look: Vivian, Cortland and Bennington

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Tell us about your look:“Comfort, classic and simple.”

“Waiting for Guffman” forever!

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By Louis Peitzman

In honor of SF Sketchfest’s Jan. 31 screening of Waiting for Guffman (1996) with star Fred Willard in person, I tried to interview the entire cast of the film. I failed. I did, however, speak to four cast members — two of Corky’s actors and two Blaine councilpeople — who reflected fondly on their experience and humored my fanboy questions. Where are these characters now? And, of course, is Broadway finally ready for Red, White and Blaine?

Fred Willard (Ron Albertson, travel agent)

On getting involved with director Christopher Guest: “I was in Spinal Tap. I’d worked with Michael McKean and Harry Shearer before, and I knew Rob Reiner. I was doing a show called Fernwood 2 Night at the same time he was doing All in the Family. We would pass in the halls and say hello, how are you. I would say mostly it was because of Harry Shearer, who’s a fairly good friend and who I’ve worked with. So I got in Spinal Tap, and then I was in a movie that Eugene Levy wrote and directed in Toronto called Sodbusters, which is kind of a spoof of Shane. Then next I knew, I got to know Christopher Guest.”

On the improv process: “[Guest] calls you and discusses your character and kind of aims you in the right direction. But there’s nothing, no lines written down. So he films a lot and then cuts out what he doesn’t need, and puts in what moves the plot forward, as he puts it. Which always kind of frustrates me, because some of the funniest stuff that not only I do but that a lot of people do, doesn’t really move the plot forward, but it’s just stuff I’d enjoy seeing. But he likes his movies about 85, 86 minutes. And that way, I think, a lot of people I find tell me they watch them over and over, which you can’t do with a two-and-a-half hour movie.”

On creating Ron: “First, [Guest] kind of gave me everything. He said I was a high school athlete. It was his idea, the penis reduction joke. In fact, he wanted to have a scene where I was running, you know an old film clip of me running the hurdles, and each hurdle being knocked over. That never was filmed or put in the movie, which I’m kind of glad about. He pretty much told me that Catherine [O’Hara] and I were like the Lunt and Fontanne of this little town, that we’d been in every production and when we had to audition, it was just kind of a technicality. We considered ourselves the pros of all the amateurs. I can say we’re about the most annoying couple I’ve seen in film.”

On the Chinese restaurant scene: “[Guest] just said, all right, what we’re going to do is, you’re going to take Eugene Levy and his wife out, because this is their first show and you’re going to try to make them more comfortable, because they’re the newcomers. So my key there is, in making them more comfortable, we would make them as uncomfortable as possible. And I didn’t know that Catherine was going to be drinking and get kind of tipsy during this scene, which added a whole nother dimension. And Eugene is a perfect victim. … [Guest] said the Chinese restaurant scene, we’ll probably film for two hours and then cut it down. And my first thought is, ‘Oh my God, what am I going to think of to say for two hours?’ But the night we did it, it was filmed late at night. We’d finished another scene. We got to the restaurant and we started filming, and went on and on. And finally, he said, cut, that’s it. And I said, ‘Wait a minute, Chris. There’s more! We can still do more!’”

On what Corky sees in the talentless Ron and Sheila: “I would think what Corky sees is a kind of commitment that we have. We probably show up on time, we probably bring baked goods to the cast. We probably have a lot of input and show off a lot of interest. I was going to say we’re probably very good with our lines in the script, but we probably aren’t actually. We probably make up for it by discussing points in the script and pointing out how we could improve our parts.”

On whether or not Ron and Sheila have a happy marriage: “Oh, no. [laughs] You could see that there’s just so much tension, with Sheila’s drinking and Ron kind of domineering her.”

On where Ron and Sheila are now: “If they stayed in Hollywood, they’d probably be running a little acting studio out in North Hollywood where they teach acting, and spend most of the class discussing their near-Broadway adventures, and how they were probably just as glad they never went to Broadway because it would be like prostituting their talents.”

On whether or not Broadway is ready for Red, White and Blaine: “I think it might be wonderful, yes. We were doing some promotion for Chris’s last movie, For Your Consideration, and someone asked, ‘I hear rumors that they want to do Waiting for Guffman on Broadway.’ And Chris was kind of swatting away the idea. He’s not too enthralled with that. And I yelled over to him, ‘Chris, does this mean we’re going to Broadway?’”

On a possible sequel: “I wrote an idea for a Waiting for Guffman, part two, and got it to [Guest]. And he discussed it with me, and said, ‘Well, I have several other ideas.’ That was before we did the next movie. I thought that was going to be the only one, and I said, ‘Chris, come on, this is my opportunity. Let’s do another one.’”

Catherine O’Hara (Sheila Albertson, travel agent)

On getting involved with Christopher Guest: “I worked with [Guest] — it was for HBO years ago, with Fred Willard and him. And we had a great time together. And I hoped to work with him again, and then I got a call about Waiting for Guffman.”

On the improv process: “It’s thrilling and exhilarating and scary. Really scary on the first couple of days, especially the first day, when you first open your mouth. Because there’s no rehearsal and you know, you open your mouth on camera, with the camera rolling, and you hope to God that you made a good choice. You’re locked in from that point on.”

On the outlines: “[Christopher Guest and Eugene Levy’s] outlines are inspiring, because they’re filled with funny ideas about these people. Everything that’s on the page is very well chosen. I think Waiting for Guffman was just a few pages — they’ve gotten longer. Because in Guffman, we all kind of traveled around as a group, so it would say, ‘They have rehearsal.’ Whereas the other stories, we sort of split up into different couples and different groups, so there were more pages.”

On creating Sheila: “They gave us the idea that Ron and Sheila ran a travel agency but had never been anywhere. So right there, you start thinking, ‘Why would I have never been anywhere when I have a travel agency?’ And you can make whatever choices you want, and there’s no discussion. You don’t have to run anything by Chris. You just come out with it on camera, and he can use it or not. But it’s so freeing that way, because everyone’s imaginations can be limited by directors or writers when it’s fully scripted. … You are totally free to create your own world and present their ideas with whatever voice you choose. And you just start rolling.”

On Sheila’s talent, or the lack thereof: “I would like to claim that I show the least talent. I think the others were probably thinking ahead to their careers outside of this movie. [laughs] But I showed no potential in Sheila’s performance.”

On playing a bad actor-singer: “Oh, it’s fun. It’s fun to try to ride the fine line of bad acting and not be too bad. You just want to be sincerely bad. But the best is — I mean, the saddest of the best in life, is when people kid themselves. And we’re all doing it every day, I’m sure. But you know, when someone sincerely believes that they have a right to be performing or doing whatever they’re doing in life and they don’t have talent or what it takes to pull it off. But they love it, and you can’t take that away from them. They love it and they get so much out of it and they believe they’re born to do it. And God bless them.”

On whether or not Ron and Sheila have a happy marriage: “What did Fred say? [laughs] I don’t think they have a healthy marriage. I think their marriage might last, just because, who else is going to be with them? [laughs] I think it’s a sad, codependent kind of relationship. They’re so deeply into their own whatever the hell they’ve got going on, I’m not sure they’d have the wherewithal or nerve or whatever, to leave each other.”

On the Chinese restaurant scene: “I loved that we had that [Chinese restaurant] scene. … I think I maybe did run that by him right before we did that. I asked him if I could be drunk and he said yeah. It was great because, you know, there’s a lot of stuff that Sheila’s burying deep down, in my mind anyway. And some of that got to come out because she was not editing herself and not aware of being on camera.”

On where Ron and Sheila are now: “They probably are together, but then she’d still be drinking if they are. No, maybe she’s gone sober. Sober and he found a true love for her, taking care of her through her rehab. And there are a lot of people in this city and every city who are acting in maybe not big famous ways, but they’re acting and they’ve got their groups of friends who they work with, and I’m sure Ron and Sheila could survive. And Ron, he’s got such nerve, he’d get them in the door.”

On whether or not Broadway is ready for Red, White and Blaine: “Oh, sad. Sad to say. Well, you know, I’ve seen some sad stuff on Broadway. Maybe. Let’s be honest.”

Michael Hitchcock (Steve Stark, councilperson)

On getting involved with Christopher Guest: “I’m a member of the Groundlings theater in Los Angeles, which is a comedy/improv troupe. And one night I was doing an all-improv show over there, and I found out afterwards that [Christopher Guest] had been in the audience. And I was glad I didn’t know ahead of time, because I would have been really nervous. I found out he wanted to interview me regarding Waiting for Guffman. He doesn’t really do auditions, per se — he interviews people he’s interested in. He kind of scours various improv theaters and comedy places.”

On the improv process: “Chris’s movies are so different from anything else that you’d ever imagine, because it’s such a creative experience, I think, for everyone involved. You just don’t get that in a scripted thing, and there’s obviously nothing wrong with scripted material—there’s writers who are usually very good at what they do and have written great things. But on something like this, you get to create your character.”

On creating Steve Stark: “We sat down, for my part, I was a councilman and we talked a little bit about it ahead of time. And he asked me, ‘What do you want to do?’ And I said, ‘Well, I would like to be someone who really wanted to be in the show but didn’t make it. And I’m kind of secretly in love with you.’ And he said, ‘All right, let’s try that.’ I chose for myself the occupation of being a pharmacist, because growing up, I had a job in a pharmacy, so I knew a lot about that. I knew about the pharmacy life. In improv, you obviously want to have specific information, so I could draw on life experience for that.”

On what makes Christopher Guest movies unique: “You never rehearse. So there’s never like a trial run of improv information. The first time anyone talks is when the cameras roll, which I really, really like. I think a lot of people don’t do it that way. Chris is one of the few people who actually do it like that and I love it. You can’t really plan ahead. You have no idea what the next person is going to say. It just makes it so invigorating. Certainly scary but invigorating at the same time. The weird thing about watching any Christopher Guest movie if you’re in it, is thinking, ‘I don’t even remember saying that.’ It’s so weird to look at them and go, ‘Oh my gosh, I really said that?’ You kind of forget, because you obviously film it more than one time.”

On where Steve is now: “In one of the reshoots, Corky and Steve Stark end up together in New York. And that was filmed and not used. So I’ve always thought, well, maybe he did. But in my own mind, I think poor Steve is probably at the pharmacy, hoping against hope that Corky moves back to town.”

On the gay subtext: “I think in that kind of a situation, the small town kind of situation, he was married and had a wife and kids. He probably didn’t even know himself exactly what was happening.”

On the Christopher Guest family: “It’s truly like a family reunion getting together. And Chris, to his credit, in subsequent films you usually get paired up with somebody new, so there’s a new chemistry and a new kind of playing around, which I just love. And plus, what’s great, he usually hires the same crew, too, so the people behind the scenes are familiar faces, which makes a huge difference when you’re flying by the seat of your pants in an improv situation.”

On whether or not Broadway is ready for Red, White and Blaine: “I think if a chandelier fell down. If you could get a chandelier to fly down, then yes, certainly. I think Broadway would certainly be ready for Red, White and Blaine. Some of the other Broadway shows, you kind of wonder how they got up there. If you actually look at Red, White and Blaine, it’s pretty well produced. So that’s what I really liked about Chris’s approach. It’s not like people are stumbling over their lines or falling over each other. Corky was a taskmaster: those people knew their lines and knew their dances and the scenery came in at the right time. In real life, that scenery could never have fit on the stage. So I thought, good for Corky. He had it figured out.”

Deborah Theaker (Gwen Fabin-Blunt, councilperson)

On getting involved with Christopher Guest: “I had met Catherine and Eugene and all of the SCTV people at the Second City, because they’d been there over the years. I was the lead actress on a series that Eugene Levy created for George Lucas called Maniac Mansion … That was my first big job, and then, I performed out here—there was a Second City in Los Angeles back in 1990, and Chris Guest just coincidentally happened to come to one of the shows we did. And he left me a note. There was no real audition. There was never any audition. I think he just called the people he liked.”

On the improv process: “What Chris has created is a two-sided thing, because you never feel the same about a script. You rarely get a script that passes your desk or that you see that you go, ‘Oh my God, this is fantastic.’ Improvising your own material and creating your own character ruins you for the real world. It’s just so inventive and so much more fun to do a movie that way that any scripted material pales in comparison. It’s almost like he’s ruined us for real movies.”

On creating Gwen: “In the outline, I was a city councilwoman — pretty much all we knew. I decided from watching dailies with them, I better come up with something more, because it could be very easy to get cut. I decided to make myself the last surviving descendent of Blaine Fabin, so that was me. But when we were meeting, talking about the character, he said, ‘I see you as the sort of woman who wears open-toed sandals with pantyhose,’ and I went, ‘Oh, I got ya.’ I used my friend’s name — her last name was Blunt — because we could pick our own character names. And I know that Mike Hitchcock, Steve Stark, also used his friend’s name.”

On holding her own against the wackier characters: “I think you only manage to be funny in that situation if you don’t try to be, if you just kind of go so deep or invest so much in your own viewpoint or whatever viewpoint your character has. I’ve never gotten a laugh if I’ve tried to be funny, ever. I don’t know why that is, but it is, so I always find — and to me, the things that are the best material are weird nuances of people’s behavior or their strange idiosyncrasies.”

On the comedic contributions of hair and makeup: “Look at Catherine with her ‘Texas claw,’ what they called the ‘Texas claw,’ where her bangs are so high, because women in Texas would wear their hair that way. To me, that was hilarious. And then there was the inspired bit that our makeup artist Kate Shorter put in of all the performers having those red dots by their eyes when they do the stage show. That just cracked me up.”

On the reality TV connection: “It’s just about — I hate to say it — the audacity of hope, that they all think they could be Broadway stars. It’s the same kind of misguidedness that you see on American Idol with the contestants who are as flat as pancakes and couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but they’re just so convinced that this is their big moment. There’s something borderline tragic but borderline sweet about how hopeful everybody is about having a show business career without having any talent. Now you see, it’s been backed up by all these years of reality television. You see all these competitors who are so earnest and so sincere in their desire to do whatever they cannot possibly do because they just don’t have a shred of talent.”

On how difficult Gwen’s life really is as a Fabin: “I think it’s her delusional creation of a dynasty. In that little place, she’s a big fish in a little pond only by reminding everyone that she’s a Fabin. People don’t honestly care or remember, but to her, that’s all she’s got to go on, so she’s going to milk it for every ounce that she can.”

On where Gwen is now: “I think that she would now be the mayor and she’d be a despot. I think that she’d have been all sweet and congenial all the way through. And then finally, once she got a little bit of power, she’d go completely power-hungry, because she’s a Fabin after all.”

On whether or not Broadway is ready for Red, White and Blaine: “There were rumors that at some point they were trying to make this into a musical. … If they did do it as a musical, it would have to be done with a sense of irony, and I don’t know if they could pull that off. The film was presented as verite, as a documentary. The musical in and of itself wouldn’t work as a musical without the framework of the documentary, so I don’t know. Hard to say.”

SF Sketchfest presents Waiting for Guffman with Fred Willard in person

 

Sun/31, 2 p.m., $15
Christopher B. Smith Rafael Film Center
1118 Fourth St, San Rafael
www.sfsketchfest.org


 

 

Strange sounds: “Trimpin” hits the Red Vic

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This is what genius is made of. Toy monkeys, Bunsen burners, turkey basters, wooden shoes, a 10,000 volt neon transformer, water. Or at least, this is the shape of inspired thought in “Trimpin: The Sound of Invention,” a film playing this weekend at the Red Vic Movie House whose focus is on a sound sculptor creating fantastic sculptures of instruments that are actually played by intricately tuned computer programs.


“Trimpin: The Sound of Invention” playing this weekend at the Red Vic Movie House

Never heard of Trimpin? Maybe you’ve caught a glimpse of the German born artist’s installation at Seattle’s Experience Music Project, ‘If VI was IX.’ It’s creation is followed in the movie; a self-tuning stack of 700 guitars piled 50 feet high, programmed to play songs from Scottish ballads to punk rock- even a genre created by Trimpin that he calls “kingk rock.” The instruments soar from the museum’s floor like some stirring auditory tornado that is its own conductor, creating an enveloping sound experience for its audience. Filmmakers have done us a great service by documenting the development and implementation of ‘If VI was IX’- it is not every artist that has the cranial space to conceive of such a project.

Trimpin is a difficult artist to categorize, but “The Sound of Invention” tries to cover all the bases. He is shown in his capacities as a composer, a mechanical/computer engineer, a lover of auditory pleasures, a savant. He makes sound art from unlikely sources- see my list that begins this post- and uses them for all ranges of musical forms, from the known to the previously unimagined. This is the first time the world has gotten such a close look at the man- Trimpin has never sought representation by a dealer or gallery, and up to the release of the movie, had never recorded the soundtracks created by his brainchildren commercially.

But hey, here they are, all tied up with a neat cinematic bow- sounds like… a great flick.

“Trimpin: The Sound of Invention”
Fri/29 7:15, 9:15 (through Sun/31), $6-9
Red Vic Movie House
1727 Haight, SF
(415) 668-3994
www.redvicmoviehouse.com

Appetite: Hoist your stein for Beer Week

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By Virginia Miller of www.theperfectspotsf.com. View the previous Appetite here.

beerweek0110.jpg

2/5-2/14 – SF Beer Week is going to be a big one this year
We’ve been buzzing awhile now about next week’s SF Beer Week. This one, only the second, is slated to be huge with over 200 events going on in a 10-day span. There’s a lot of beer sampling to be had, my friends! Celebrating craft beers at large, and the rich diversity of our local craft beers, the event is sponsored by local breweries in the SF Brewers Guild. There’s an event to suit every beer lover, from meet-the-brewer nights, to tours, tastings and dinners, to special casks and releases. Navigating the sudsy waters is a bit daunting, but here are a few to consider:

**The big shindig, 2/5, is an Opening Gala at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, featuring 30 of Nor Cal’s best (including some rare) brews, a tapping of the Brewers Guild collaborative brew (a barrel-aged Imperial Common), live music, commemorative stemware for each attendee, and food for purchase from the likes of 4505 Meats, Tacolicious, and Tataki Sushi. Get tix now as they’re $45 but will be $55 after 1/31.

Marijuana goes mainstream

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I’ve smoked marijuana on and off for most of my adult life, usually in the evening to help let go of the anxieties associated with being a progressive wage slave in an increasingly conservative capitalist country.

Buying my pot, which is California’s biggest cash crop, has always been a criminal transaction: in hushed tones or coded language, I arrange to meet a dealer I’ve been set up with through friends. And when I meet him (they’ve always been men), I give him cash in exchange for an eighth- or quarter-ounce of whatever kind of pot he’s selling.

I don’t know what variety I’m buying, who grew it, or how it was grown; whether violence or environmental degradation have occurred along the supply chain; or even whether it is an indica or sativa, the two most basic cannabis families that have differing effects on users.

I’ve been completely in the dark, both in terms of what I was buying and who was benefiting from the transaction, but that changed recently. I obtained a doctor’s recommendation to legally smoke weed — honestly citing anxiety as my affliction — and set out to explore the area’s best cannabis clubs.

It was a little strange and disorienting at first, this new world of expert purveyors of the finest Northern California marijuana and the various concentrates, edibles, drinkables, and other products it goes into. But what eventually struck me is just now normal and mainstream this industry has become, particularly in San Francisco, which has long led the movement to legalize marijuana.

Unlike in cities such as Los Angeles, where the rapid proliferation of unregulated pot clubs has made headlines and raised community concerns, San Francisco years ago made its clubs jump through various bureaucratic hoops to become fully licensed, permitted, and regulated, free to join the mainstream business community, pay their taxes, and compete with one another on the basis of quality, price, customer service, ambiance, and support for the community.

As Californians prepare to decide whether to decriminalize marijuana for even recreational use — on Jan. 28, advocates plan to turn in enough valid signatures to place that initiative on the fall ballot — it’s a good time to explore just what the world of legal weed looks like.

Pretty much everyone involved agrees that San Francisco’s system for distributing marijuana to those with a doctor’s recommendation for it is working well: the patients, growers, dispensary operators, doctors, politicians, police, and regulators with the planning and public health departments.

“It works and it should continue to be replicated,” Sup. Ross Mirkarimi, who created the legislation four years ago that led to the current system, told us. “It’s now mainstream.”

Public health officials agree. “In general, we’re very happy about our relationship with the industry and their commitment to the regulations,” said Dr. Rajiv Bhatia, San Francisco’s environmental health director. “We did this well and we did it cooperatively with the clubs.”

Bhatia said there are now 22 fully-permitted clubs (and two more under review) in San Francisco, less than half the number operating when the regulations were created. He also said the city no longer receives many complaints from neighbors of clubs.

Misha Breyburg, managing partner of the nonprofit Medithrive, which opened just a few months ago on Mission Street, supports the process too. “The regulations generally are not easy, but I think that’s okay,” he said. “The process was long and cumbersome and stressful, but very fair.”

Martin Olive, director of the Vapor Room, one of the city’s largest and best dispensaries, agrees that the permitting process professionalized the industry: “I’m proud to be here because the city government has been amazing.”

Richard Lee — founder of Oaksterdam University in Oakland, which teaches marijuana cultivation and is the main financial backer behind the initiative to legalize and tax pot — said San Francisco and Oakland have demonstrated that cannabis clubs can function like any other legitimate industry and become a real asset to their neighborhoods and the local economy.

“Once they started legalizing the clubs, they had no more problems,” Lee told us. “It really is boring and really not a big deal. It’s only the prohibition that makes it exciting and a little scary.”

In fact, Lee said that normalizing and legalizing the marijuana industry is the best way to deal with the problems associated with the illegal drug trade, such as violence, creation of a criminal class, respect for law enforcement, wasted public resources, lost tax opportunities, unsafe growing operations, and environmental damage.

“We need to end cannabis prohibition to end the violence,” Lee said.

Bringing marijuana above ground also has created an artisanship that’s similar to the wine industry, elevating cultivation practices to an art form, improving the science behind it, and making users more sophisticated about subtle differences in taste and effect among the dozens of varieties now on the market.

But the growers themselves still exist in a murky gray area. Although they can get some legal cover as registered caregivers to a cooperative’s members, they’re still exposed to thefts, shakedowns, logistical difficulties, and raids by federal agents or even local police, such as the series of raids in the Sunset District last fall that targeted even legitimate growers for the clubs.

“Right now, cultivators have no air cover at all and they’re getting mixed messages,” Mirkarimi said, calling for the city to better protect growers and even consider getting into the business of growing pot for the clubs and patients. “General Hospital should dispense medical cannabis.”

That issue and others related to the city’s relationship with the industry are currently the subject of a working group convened by Sup. David Campos, a byproduct of which is the proposal to create a Medical Cannabis Task Force to advise the Board of Supervisors, an item the board was scheduled to vote on Jan. 26.

Mirkarimi said he’s also concerned about current rules that ban smoking in clubs that are within 1,000 feet of schools or drug treatment facilities, which has served to prohibit smoking in all but a few San Francisco clubs. Oakland bans smoking in all its clubs. “That’s where the laws could be modified, because you don’t want to take away that social vibe,” Mirkarimi said. “San Francisco needs to be a leader in activating the next step.”

Olive, whose club allows smoking and has a great social scene, agrees that something is lost when the clubs are forced to be simply transactional.

“This is a social healing medicine, and we’re here to promote an inviting atmosphere where people can share their stories,” Olive said. “The whole point is not to just come in and get your medicine, but to be a part of a community.”

That community can range from young stoners to dying old patients, who can both benefit from their communion. “It’s the hippies and the yuppies. Everyone comes here,” Breyburg said. Or as Olive told me, “There is something intrinsically rewarding to sharing a joint with someone, as silly as that sounds.”

The voter-approved Proposition 215 and state law are deliberately vague on what ailments qualify for a doctor’s recommendation, spawning a sub-industry of physicians who specialize in pot, like the ones at the clinic I visited, Dr. Hanya Barth’s Compassionate Health Options in SoMa.

The busy clinic charges around $130 for an initial visit and patients walk away with a legal recommendation, which is all state law requires to legally use marijuana (the clinic recommended also buying a $100 state ID card or a $40 card from the Patient ID Center in Oakland, but I didn’t need them to enter any of the clubs I visited).

The long forms patients fill out even suggest anxiety as an affliction that pot can help, but the clinic also asks patients to sign a waiver to obtain detailed medical records supporting the recommendation. When Barth learned that I have a shoulder separation for which I underwent an MRI a few years ago, she requested those records and added “shoulder pain” to my “anxiety” affliction.

“My goal is not just to give people a recommendation. I look at how I can help or support the person beyond just giving them a recommendation,” Barth told me, illustrating her point by showing me two packs of cigarettes from patients whom she said she convinced to quit smoking.

Her vibe combines the healer and the old hippie, someone who sees a plethora of uses for marijuana and generally thinks society would be better off if everyone would just have a puff and chill out. The clubs also don’t draw distinctions based on their customers’ reasons for smoking.

“There is a distinct difference between medical use and recreational use,” Olive said, telling stories about amazing turnarounds he’s seen in patients with AIDS, cancer, and other debilitating diseases, contrasting that with people who just like to get high before watching a funny movie, which he said is also fine.

But Olive said there’s an important and often under-appreciated third category of marijuana use: therapeutic. “They use cannabis to cope, to unwind, to relax, to sleep better, or to think through problems in a different way,” Olive said.

This third category of user, which I officially fall into, seems to be the majority people I encountered in the local clubs. And while it may be easy for cannabis’ critics to dismiss such patients as taking advantage of laws and a system meant to help sick people, Olive says they play an important role.

“They make it easier for the cannabis clubs to give it away to the people who really need it,” Olive said, referring the practice by most clubs of giving away free weed to low-income or very sick patients, which is supported by the profits made on sales.

The Vapor Room is widely regarded as having one of the best compassionate giving programs, and Olive estimated that the operation gives away about a pound per week through local hospice programs and by giving away edibles and bags of cannabis vapor at the club.

Some of the profits are also used to offer free massage, yoga, chiropractic, and other classes to their members, a system being taken to new heights by Harborside Health Center in Oakland, which has fairly high prices but uses that revenue to offer an extensive list of free services and laboratory analysis of the pot it sells, identifying both contaminants (such as molds or pesticides) and the level of THC, the compound that gets you high.

Olive said there’s also a positive psychological impact of legitimizing the use of marijuana: “It no longer feels like you’re doing a bad thing that you have to be sneaky about.”

As I created my list of the clubs I planned to review, I found abundant online resources such as www.sanfranciscocannabisclubs.com and www.weedtracker.com. But an even better indicator of how mainstream this industry has become were the extensive listings and reviews on Yelp.com.

I combined that information with recommendations from a variety of sources I interviewed to develop my list, which is incomplete and entirely subjective, but nonetheless a good overview of the local industry and the differences among the clubs.

Also, like our restaurant reviewers, I didn’t identify myself as a journalist on my visits, preferring to see how the average customer is treated — and frankly, I was amazed at the high level of friendly, knowledgeable customer service at just about every club. To comply with city law, all the clubs are fully accessible by those with disabilities.

So, with that business out of the way, please join me on my tour of local cannabis clubs, in the (random) order that I visited them:

————

DIVINITY TREE

While the reviews on Yelp rave about Divinity Tree (958 Geary St.), giving it five stars, I found it a little intimidating and transactional (although it was the first club I visited, so that might be a factor). But if you’re looking to just do your business in a no-frills environment and get out, this could be your place.

The staff and most of the clientele were young men, some a bit thuggish. One worker wore a “Stop Snitching” T-shirt and another had “Free the SF8.” But they behaved professionally and were knowledgeable and easy to talk to. When I asked for a strain that would ease my anxiety but still allow me enough focus to write, my guy (patients wait along a bench until called to the counter) seemed to thoughtfully ponder the question for a moment, then said I wanted a “sativa-dominant hybrid” and recommended Neville’s Haze.

I bought 1/16 for $25 and when I asked for a receipt, it seemed as though they don’t get that question very often. But without missing a beat he said, “Sure, I’ll give you a receipt,” and gave me a hand-written one for “Meds.”

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: three years

Price: Fairly low

Selection: Moderate

Ambiance: A transactional hole in the wall

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Moderate

Access/Security: Easy. Membership available but not required

————-

GRASS ROOTS

Located at 1077 Post St. right next to Fire Station #3, Grass Roots has the feel of a busy saloon. Indeed, as a worker named Justin told me, many of the employees are former bartenders who know and value customer service. With music, great lighting, and nice décor, this place feels comfortable and totally legit. Whereas most clubs are cash-only, Grass Roots allows credit card transactions and has an ATM on site.

The steady stream of customers are asked to wait along the back wall, perusing the menus (one for buds and another with pictures for a huge selection of edibles) until called to the bar. When asked, my guy gave me a knowledgeable breakdown of the difference between sativa and indica, but then Justin came over to relieve him for a lunch break with the BBQ they had ordered in and ate in the back.

Justin answered my writing-while-high inquiry by recommending Blue Dream ($17 for a 1.2-gram), and when I asked about edibles, he said he really likes the indica instant hot chocolate ($6), advising me to use milk rather than water because it bonds better with the cannabinoids to improve the high. Then he gave me a free pot brownie because I was a new customer. I was tempted to tip him, but we just said a warm goodbye instead.

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: five years

Price: Moderate

Selection: High

Ambiance: A warm and welcoming weed bar

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Easy

————–

HOPENET

Hopenet (223 Ninth St.) is one of the few places in the city where you can smoke on site, in a comfortable, homey style, as if you’re visiting a friend’s apartment. In addition to the loveseat, two chairs, and large bong, there is a small patio area for smoking cigarettes or playing a guitar, as someone was doing during my visit.

Although the small staff is definitely knowledgeable, they all seemed stoned. And when I asked about the right weed for my writing problem, a gruff older woman impatiently dismissed any indica vs. sativa distinctions and walked away. But I learned a lot about how they made the wide variety of concentrates from the young, slow-talking guy who remained.

He weighed out a heavy gram of White Grapes for $15, the same price for Blue Dream, and $2 cheaper than I had just paid at Grass Roots. That was in the back room, the big middle area was for hanging out, and the front area was check-in and retail, with a case for pipes and wide variety of stoner T-shirts on the walls.

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: seven years

Price: Low

Selection: Moderate

Ambiance: Like a converted home with retail up front

Smoke On Site: Yes!

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Easy

————

VAPOR ROOM

Vapor Room (607A Haight, www.vaporroom.com) is San Francisco’s best pot club, at least in terms of feeling like an actual club and having strong connections to its community of patients. It’s a large room where customers can smoke on site, giving this collective a warm, communal vibe that facilitates social interaction and fosters a real sense of inclusiveness.

Each of the four large tables has a high-end Volcano vaporizer on it, there’s a big-screen TV, elegant décor, and large aquarium. There’s a nice mix of young heads and older patients, the latter seeming to know each other well. But, lest members feel a little too at home, a sign on the wall indicates a two-hour time limit for hanging out.

Its early days in the spot next door were a bit grungier, but the new place is bright and elegant. It has a low-key façade and professional feel, and it strongly caters to patients’ needs. Low-income patients are regularly offered free medicine, such as bags full of vapor prepared by staff. Mirkarimi said the Vapor Room is very involved in the Lower Haight community and called it a “model club.”

But they’re still all about the weed, and they have a huge selection that you can easily examine (with a handy magnifying glass) and smell, knowledgeable staff, lots of edibles and concentrates, a tea bar (medicated and regular), and fairly low standardized pot prices: $15 per gram, $25 per 1/16th, $50 per eighth. And once you got your stuff, grab a bong off the shelf and settle into a table — but don’t forget to give them your card at the front desk to check out a bowl for your bong. As the guy told me, “It’s like a library.”

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: six years

Price: Moderate

Selection: High

Ambiance: Warm, communal hangout

Smoke On Site: Yes!

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Easy, but membership required

————-

MEDITHRIVE

The newest cannabis club in town, MediThrive (1933 Mission, www.medithrive.com) has a bright, fresh, artsy feel to it, with elegantly frosted windows and a welcoming reception area as you enter. This nonprofit coop takes your photo and requires free membership, and already had almost 3,000 members when I signed up a couple weeks ago. Tiana, the good-looking young receptionist, said the club recently won a reader’s choice Cannabis Cup award and noted that all the art on the walls was a rotating collection by local patients: “We’re all about supporting local art.”

The decorators seemed to have fun with the cannabis concept, with a frosted window with a pot leaf photo separating the reception area from the main room, while the walls alternated wood planks with bright green fake moss that looked like the whole place was bursting with marijuana. There’s a flat-screen TV on the wall, at low volume.

The large staff is very friendly and seemed fairly knowledgeable, and the huge selection of pot strains were arranged on a spectrum with the heaviest indica varieties on the left to the pure sativas on the right. Lots of edibles and drinkables, too. The cheapest bud was a cool steel tin with a gram of Mission Kush for $14 (new members get a free sample), while the high rollers could buy some super-concentrated OG Kush Gold Dust ($50) or Ear Wax ($45) to sprinkle over their bowls.

Prepackaged buds

Open for: three months

Price: Moderate

Selection: High

Ambiance: Professional, like an artsy doctor’s office

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Very low

Access/Security: Easy, but membership required

————

KETAMA COLLECTIVE

At 14 Valencia St., Ketama is a testament to how silly it is that clubs within 1,000 feet of schools aren’t permitted to allow smoking on site. This former café has a large, comfortable seating area and full kitchen, both of which have had little use since a school opened way down the street last year, causing city officials to ban smoking at Ketama.

Pity, because it seems like a great place to just hang out. Yet now it just seemed underutilized and slow. The staff is small (one door guy and a woman hired last summer doing sales), and we were the only customers during the 20 minutes I was there (except for the weird old guy drinking beer from a can in a bag who kept popping in and out).

But it still had jars of good green bud, several flavors of weed-laced drinks and edibles, and a pretty good selection of hash and kief at different prices, and the woman spoke knowledgeably about the different processes by which they were created. To counteract the slow business, Ketama has a neon sign out front that explicitly announces its business — another indication the industry has gone legit.

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: five years

Price: Low

Selection: Limited

Ambiance: Dirty hippie hangout, but with nobody there

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Easy, but free membership required

————

MR. NICE GUY

Belying its name, Mr. Nice Guy (174 Valencia St.) thrilled and scared me, but not necessarily in a bad way. Located across the street from Zeitgeist, the thug factor here was high and so was the security, allowing no human interaction that wasn’t mediated by thick Plexiglass, presumably bulletproof.

After initially being told by a disembodied voice to come back in five minutes, I submitted my doctor’s recommendation and ID into the slot of a teller’s window, darkened to hide whoever I was dealing with. Quickly approved, I was buzzed into a small, strange room with three doors.

I paused, confused, until the disembodied voice again told me, “Keep going,” and I was buzzed through another door into a hallway that led to a large room, its walls completely covered in brilliant murals, expertly painted in hip-hop style. Along the front walls, a lighted menu broke down the prices of about 20 cannabis varieties.

Then finally, I saw people: two impossibly hot, young female employees, lounging nonchalantly in their weed box, like strippers waiting to start their routines. The only other customer, a young B-boy, chatted them up though the glass, seemingly more interested in these striking women than their products.

I finally decided to go with the special, an ounce of Fever, normally $17, for just $10. I opened a small door in the glass, set down my cash, and watched the tall, milk chocolate-skinned beauty trade my money for Fever, leaving me feeling flushed. It was the best dime-bag I ever bought.

Prepackaged buds

Open for: ???

Price: Moderate, with cheap specials

Selection: High

Ambiance: Hip hop strip club

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: High

Access/Security: High security but low scrutiny

————-

BERNAL HEIGHTS COLLECTIVE

Bernal Collective (33 29th St. at Mission) seemed both more casual and more strict than any of the other clubs in town — and it also turned out to be one of my favorites.

After refusing to buy pot for a guy out front who had just been turned away, I entered the club and faced more scrutiny than I had at any other club. It was the only club to ask for my doctor’s license number and my referral number, and when I tried to check an incoming text message, I was told cell phone use wasn’t allowed for “security reasons.” On the wall, they had a blown-up copy of their 2007 legal notice announcing their opening.

But beyond this by-the-book façade, this club proved warm and welcoming, like a comfortable clubhouse. People can smoke on site, and there’s even a daily happy hour from 4:20–5:20 p.m., with $1 off joints and edibles, both in abundant supply. Normal-sized prerolled joints are $5, but they also offer a massive bomber joint with a full eighth of weed for $50.

The staff of a half-dozen young men were knowledgeable about the 20 varieties they had on hand and offered excellent customer service, even washing down the bong with an alcohol-wipe before letting a customer take a rip from the XXX, a strong, sticky bud that was just $15 for a gram.

Buds weighed at purchase

Open for: five years

Price: Fairly low

Selection: High

Ambiance: A clubhouse for young stoners

Smoke On Site: Yes

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Fairly tight

————-

LOVE SHACK

This longtime club (502 14th St.) has had its ups and downs, the downs coming mostly because of its location on a fairly residential block. After taking complaints from neighbors, the city required Love Shack to cap its membership, although that seems to be changing because the club let me in, albeit with a warning that next time I would need to have a state ID card. It was the only club I visited to have such a requirement.

Once inside this tiny club, I could see why people might have been backed up onto the street at times. But the staff was friendly and seemed to have a great rapport with the regulars, who seemed be everyone except me. The knowledgeable manager walked me through their 20-plus varieties, most costing the standard street price of $50 per eighth, or more for stronger stuff like Romulan.

On the more affordable end of the spectrum was the $10 special for Jack Herrer Hash, named for the longtime legalization advocate who wrote The Emperor Wears No Clothes, a classic book on the history of the movement.

Buds weighed at purchase

Open for: eight years

Price: Moderate

Selection: High

Ambiance: Small, like a converted apartment

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Moderate

Access/Security: Tight

————-

COFFEE SHOP BLUE SKY

Blue Sky (377 17th St., Oakland)is based on the Amsterdam model of combining marijuana dispensaries with coffee shops, although it suffers a bit from Oakland’s ban on smoking. Still, it’s a cool concept and one that Richard Lee sees as the future of marijuana-related businesses because of the synergy between smoking and grabbing a bite or some coffee.

Most of Blue Sky is a small coffee shop and smoothie bar, but there’s a little room in back for buying weed. “We’ve got the best prices around,” said the guy who checked my ID, and indeed, $44 eighths and $10 “puppy bags” were pretty cheap. Customers can also sign up to do volunteer political advocacy work for free weed.

The only downside is the limited selection, only four varieties when I was there, although the woman at the counter said the varieties rotate over the course of the day based on the club’s purchases from growers.

Prepackaged buds

Open for: 14 years

Price: Low

Selection: Very limited

Ambiance: A fragrant little room behind a coffee shop

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Easy

————–

HARBORSIDE HEALTH CENTER

I have seen the future of legitimized medical marijuana businesses, and it’s Harborside (1840 Embarcadero, Oakland). With its motto of “Out of the shadows, into the light,” this place is like the Costco of pot — a huge, airy facility with a dizzying number of selections and even a “rewards card” program.

All new members are given a tour, starting with sign-up sheets for daily free services that include yoga, chiropractic, acupuncture, reiki, consultations with herbalists, and classes on growing. Then we moved to a section with the clones of dozens of pot plant varieties available for purchase (limit of 72 plants per visit), along with a potted marijuana plant the size of a tree.

Harborside is also blazing the trail on laboratory services, testing all of its pot for contaminants and THC content, labeling it on the packaging just like the alcohol industry does. Some of the smaller clubs don’t like how over-the-top Harborside is, and they complain that its prices are high. But those profits seem to be poured back into the services at this unique facility.

Prepackaged buds

Open for: three years

Price: High

Selection: Huge

Ambiance: A big, open shopping emporium

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Tight

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SANCTUARY

The people who run Sanctuary (669 O’Farrell St.), the first club to fully comply with the new city regulations and get its permanent license, have been active in the political push for normalizing medical marijuana, as a wall full of awards and letters from politicians attests. Owner Michael Welch was commended for his work by the Harvey Milk LGBT Democratic Club, where Sanctuary employee Tim Durning has been an active longtime member and former elected officer.

Sanctuary has a generous compassionate giving program and caters to lots of poor residents of the Tenderloin neighborhood. While the club is prohibited from allowing smoking, they fudge the restriction with a Volcano vaporizer. “A lot of patients are on fixed income and live in the SROs, where they can’t smoke, so we let them vaporize here whether they buy from us or not,” Durning told us.

Those who do buy from them find a huge selection — including 20 different kinds of hash and 17 varieties of buds — at a wide price range. Staffers know their products well and take their business seriously, giving a regular spiel to new members about responsible use, which includes maintaining neighborhood relations by not smoking near the business.

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: five years

Price: Low to moderate

Selection: High

Ambiance: Campaign headquarters for the marijuana movement

Smoke On Site: No, but vaporizing OK

Thug factor: Low

Access/Security: Easy

————–

GREEN DOOR

If low prices or a huge selection of edibles are what you seek, Green Door (843 Howard St., www.greendoorsf.com) could be the club for you.

Eighths of good green buds start at a ridiculously low $25 and go up to just $50 (the cheapest price for eighths at many clubs and also the standard black market price). If that’s not low enough, super-broke users can buy a quarter-ounce bag of high-grade shake for $40.

If you didn’t already have the munchies going in, you’ll get them perusing the huge menu of edibles: from weed-laced knockoffs of Snickers bars and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for just $5 to cupcakes, ice cream, or Chex party mix. They have lots of hash and other concentrates as well.

Somehow, the club also manages to have a strong compassionate giving program and contibutes to local civic organizations that include the Black Rock Arts Foundation, Maitri AIDS Hospice, and Friends of the Urban Forest.

The club itself is a little sterile and transactional, with an institutional feel and employees stuck behind teller windows. But even though that and the steady flow of tough-looking young male customers raise its thug factor a bit, the employees all seemed friendly and helpful, giving free edibles to first-time customers.

Prepackage buds

Open for: 8 years (4 here, 4 in Oakland)

Price: Cheap

Selection: High for edibles, moderate for weed

Ambiance: Like a community bank of cheap weed

Smoke On Site: No

Thug factor: Moderate

Access/Security: Easy access, high security

————–

RE-LEAF HERBAL CENTER

While I had heard good things about Re-Leaf (1284 Mission St.), my first impression was that it’s a little sketchy. As the door guy was checking my recommendation card and ID, I asked whether they allow smoking on site. He looked as if this was a difficult question, paused, and finally told me to ask the people behind the counter.

The small club was blaring gangsta rap when I entered, after a while lowering the volume to compete less with the blaring television set to an ultimate fighting match. It had two small fridges filled with tasty-looking edibles and lots of vaporizers and other merchandise for sale, but only eight varieties of marijuana.

But the service was good, and after knocking $5 off my gram of Jim Jones (a variety I only found here) because I was a first-time customer, he told me it was OK to smoke on site. I sat down on the couch, but there were no bongs, vaporizers, pipes, or even ashtrays to use.

Buds weighed on purchase

Open for: two years (three years at previous SF location)

Price: Fairly low

Selection: Limited

Ambiance: A loud head shop that also has some weed

Smoke On Site: Yes and no

Thug factor: Moderate to high

Access/Security: Easy

White out

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CHEAP EATS Dear Earl Butter,

Not you, but people say, “You will be stronger.” I wonder how, when I am in a million pieces. Of course I know I will come together, but what if the forearm is on top of the elbow and the upper arm below? What if my fingers are in the wrong order? How can this make me stronger?

I thought I would ask you, because don’t you have some experience with cubism?

Right now I’m on a train crossing the border between Germany and France, sitting backward. I’d puke, but I’m too tired, and completely empty. I haven’t slept in days. I haven’t eaten. Last night I looked at a bowl of onion soup, which was a start.

If I still weigh anything by the time I get to La Rochelle, then survival is almost guaranteed, since the French are certain to feed me.

It was beautiful. When word got out that a sister was down in Europe, this net of unexpected kindness opened up under me. Christ, I love my extended family. I mean, don’t get me wrong: I hate life, but you gotta love the people in it, don’t you? Some of them. Thanks to my brother Jean-Gene the Frenchman and Andi Lu Who, my French sister, my road-to-recovery stretches from roughly Bordeaux to Rome. I knew I had cugini over here, and old best friends of brothers, their exes and exes’ sisters, in-laws of in-laws and such … What I didn’t know is that they would circle up with their arms stretched out and interlocked to catch a farmerly kook they’d met only once, or twice. And years ago.

I need this. I need friendly, familiar faces and hours and hours of ping-pong. Can you believe that I have been through what I’ve been through without the consolation of so much as one bowl of duck soup?

Ah, but the grass is greener in France. The countryside is beautiful. Germany was beautiful too, from the train, but it was a black-and-white kind of beauty. All branches and snow. I wish I could white out what happened to me there.

Well, I take comfort in the fact that I lasted a couple weeks longer in Germany than my mom did in St. Paul, where she moved recently to more easily stalk her own great love, Garrison Keillor.

But she got off easy. I’m pretty sure Garrison Keillor never kissed my mom’s ring finger after making love to her, for example. I don’t think he called her his wife about a million times, or soul mate, or the love of his life. In fact, I’m not sure he knew she existed.

Wait, that’s right — he signed a book for her.

If only I’d gotten an autograph and left it at that. It’s dizzying, like death or sitting backward on the train. If I can stay vertical, Earl, I will eventually fly from Italy to Ohio to the Caribbean, to help wash windows and paint a hurricane-damaged house my other brother built there. Then I should be warm enough to come crawling back and curl up in your closet. Start cleaning.

Dear Dani,

That is great. There is nothing I look forward to more than a lunch date with Joel. At Valencia Pizza and Pasta, here are some of the things I have eaten with him: lemon chicken sandwich ($6.25), chicken-bacon-red pesto sandwich ($6.95). I’ve seen Joel eat breakfast there with corned beef hash and also a roasted chicken plate that was so big it almost stopped him cold. Today he got the pollani picata, which, I think means chicken breast with lemon and capers. What a beautifully full plate!

I got the meatloaf sandwich. A meatloaf sandwich of ridiculous pomposity ($6.25). Honestly, for a moment, I thought they had put the slices in sideways just to thwart me. There was no way to include the lettuce, tomatoes and pickles. You just have to treat them as sides. It was so juicy. I tricked Joel into looking out the window before I attempted a bite. I did not want him to see my jaw unhinge. Listen, this really is my new favorite restaurant. We walked out, as we always do, full, and happy, and friends. — E.B.

VALENCIA PIZZA AND PASTA

Mon.–Fri. 11 a.m.–3 p.m., 5–9:30 p.m.;

Sat. 9 a.m.–3 p.m., 5–9:30 p.m.; Sun. 9 a.m.–3 p.m.

801 Valencia, SF

(415) 642-1882

Beer & Wine

AE/MC/V

L.E. Leone’s latest book is Big Bend (Sparkle Street Books), a collection of short fiction.

Appetite: Hoist your stein for Beer Week

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2/5-2/14 – SF Beer Week is going to be a big one this year

We’ve been buzzing awhile now about next week’s SF Beer Week. This one, only the second, is slated to be huge with over 200 events going on in a 10-day span. There’s a lot of beer sampling to be had, my friends! Celebrating craft beers at large, and the rich diversity of our local craft beers, the event is sponsored by local breweries in the SF Brewers Guild. There’s an event to suit every beer lover, from meet-the-brewer nights, to tours, tastings and dinners, to special casks and releases. Navigating the sudsy waters is a bit daunting, but here are a few to consider:

**The big shindig, 2/5, is an Opening Gala at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, featuring 30 of Nor Cal’s best (including some rare) brews, a tapping of the Brewers Guild collaborative brew (a barrel-aged Imperial Common), live music, commemorative stemware for each attendee, and food for purchase from the likes of 4505 Meats, Tacolicious, and Tataki Sushi. Get tix now as they’re $45 but will be $55 after 1/31.

**Every day of Beer Week, kick-ass Humphry Slocombe, in collaboration with Beer & Nosh, is offering a variety of beer ice creams. If their boozy Laphroig, Secret Breakfast, Guinness Gingerbread-type flavors are any indication of what’s coming, it’ll be good.

** On 2/8, Bar Tartine, Chef Chris Kronner, and Chez Panisse chefs, Rusty Packer, Rayneil DeGuzman and Nico Monday, host a four-course dinner with beer pairings from Magnolia and Dogfish Head Breweries. Seatings are at 6 and 9pm; tickets at tartinebeerweek.eventbrite.com.

**I’m a fan of Allagash beers (particularly bourbon barrel-aged Curieux) from Portland, Maine. Just one of many brewers you could meet over the course of this week is Allagash brewmaster, Rob Tod. He’ll be at Monk’s Kettle on 2/7, Superbowl Sunday, from 6-9pm, and on 2/9 (6-8pm), he’s speaking over Allagash beers, charcuterie and cheese at Oakland’s The Trappist.

**On 2/14, it’s a proper Valentine’s Day at Beer Week’s closing party (4-8pm) at Trumer Brauerei in Berkeley. There’s BBQ, beers from 20 local breweries (like Anchor, Speakeasy, Sierra Nevada, Moylan’s), music, silent auction and free shuttles from downtown Berkeley BART. Tickets are $40 pre-party (including unlimited 4 oz. pours, dinner, free shuttle) at www.celebrator.com. Or maybe you’d prefer to break down a whole pig for Valentine’s? Then La Trappe’s Porcine Valentine (3-11:30pm; $95), where Belgian beers and butchery meet, will be just your speed.

www.sfbeerweek.org

All together now

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SONIC REDUCER What do you get when you mix air and earth, combine boisterous and baroque exuberance and densely layered yet bouncily buoyant guitars, incorporate baby Scorpions with full-blown ELO?

Voila, you just ordered Citay, the city’s musical mega-maximalists — now jumpier, rockin’-er, and more exhilarating than ever, judging from the sound of the new ‘un from this fab fantasy confab of Bay Area music-makers, Dream Get Together (Dead Oceans), all united under the imagination of one man: songwriter and guitarist Ezra Feinberg.

“I love the first album [Important/Frenetic, 2006], and I love Little Kingdom [Dead Oceans, 2007]. But whenever I listen to Little Kingdom, I’d think, God, this is sooo mellow,” drawls the chatty Feinberg by phone as he maneuvers between the raindrops and tollbooths, making his way to, sorry, the citay by the Bay. “I don’t really feel like I’m this mellow. This doesn’t feel like me. So in a sense, it’s just been a more honest record. This record is more excitable, and I’m more excitable than Little Kingdom.”

Picture a well-attuned supergroup of SF musicians like Warren Huegel (Tussle), Josh Pollock (Daevid Allen’s University of Errors), Diego Gonzalez (3 Leafs), Sean Smith, and Tahlia Harbour — a dream get-together, if you will — woven together and levitating blissfully, beneath the intense gaze of Feinberg and longtime collaborator Tim Green (Fucking Champs) as they constructed the ornate “sonic architecture,” as Feinberg puts it, of Dream Get Together.

That edifice took a year to make — “I don’t churn it out,” Feinberg confesses — as the group assembled parts like the space-rock synth solo by Howlin’ Rain’s Josh Robinow, heard on “Hunter,” and flotillas of crazily interlocked, airborne guitars. (“I like a lot of what is considered to be pretty bloated and overly athletic 1980s heavy metal guitar playing,” Feinberg says.) Drummer Huegel turned to a full rock kit, in contrast to the last album, and the vocal harmonies came to the fore. The result: songs like the title track take classic rock as its starting point then swoop and soar and leave you shaking your shag, tucked in your party van, and marveling at the sound of a rippling guitar solo in flight. “I wanted to take Citay as it was known on the first two records and blow it up, set a grenade to the first two albums,” Feinberg muses. “It’s like the other albums went off their meds.”

The phrase Dream Get Together refers to a specific relationship, also the center of this collection of songs. “It’s about how difficult it can be if you have a fantasy of a relationship with somebody and it’s met with the reality of that other persona and the real relationship,” explains Feinberg. But it also nods to the dream community of musicians that Citay itself seems to have become — despite the issues of scheduling so many busy players (“Omigod, you have no idea,” the bandleader moans. “It’s a logistical nightmare”) — it’s the same idea, or dream, of supportive, collective art- or music-making that has inspired so many in recent years.

“Citay has become this solo project that also has aspects of a collective because there are so many people,” Feinberg observes. “We’re all friends, and we encompass so many bands in San Francisco — I think there’s something really ideal and beautiful at the heart of what Citay has become.”

Now if we can only get our dream on — together.

CITAY

With Fruit Bats and Extra Classic

Fri/29, 9 p.m., $15

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

www.slims-sf.com

————

CLIPD BEAKS

Seventies-era Cali-rock was the starting point for the off-and-on-again-Oaklanders’ next-level To Realize (Lovepump Unlimited). With Late Young, White Cloud, and Raccoons. Fri/29, 9:30 p.m., $6. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. www.hemlocktavern.com

DO MAKE SAY THINK

The Toronto post-rock thinkers make a rare appearance, toting the recent Other Truths (Constellation, 2009). With Happiness Project and Years. Tues/2, 8 p.m., $16. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. www.gamh.com

NOMO

Yes, mo’ super-heated Afro-rock-inspired awesomeness, pweeze. With the Actors. Tues/2, 9:30 p.m., $10–$12. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. www.bottomofthehill.com

THEE OH SEES

Oh, say, can you see Kelley Stoltz, Ty Segall, and the Sandwitches joining with T.O.S. for this Stand with Haiti benefit. Tues/2, 9 p.m., $10–$50 sliding scale. Café Du Nord, 2170 Market, SF. www.cafedunord.com

Beneficence

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SUPER EGO The Bay Area nightlife community is pulling out all the stops (and the big guns) to aid the victims of that horrifying earthquake in Haiti this week. There already have been some stellar benefits at Afrolicious, Element, Levende East, and others — and even our local stars of comedy came together at Deco last week to lend support. Below are some more huge efforts, as our club kids continue to spread the love and funds.

———–

SAN FRANCISCO HEARTS HAITI

It’s a live global funk extravaganza, blending Afrobeat, Latin roll, street strut, and bhangra bang at the Independent, with 100 percent of proceeds going to the Haiti Relief Fund (www.haitirelieffund.org). Featured: Sila, Haiti’s Kalbass Kreyol, Bayonics, Native Elements, DJ J-Boogie, Joe Bagale, Meklit Hadero, Aima the Dreamer, Thank You Julius, DJ Jeremiah & the Afrobeat Nation, NonStop Bhangra, DJ Felina, DJ Amar & Electric Vardo, Gibson Pearl, live belly dancers.

Wed/27, 7:30 p.m., $10. Independent, 628 Divisadero, SF. www.theindependentsf.com

————-

INDULGENCE HAITI CHARITY EVENT

Hey, even the fancy-pants crowd is activated (yes, bottle service and dress code is in effect). Harry Denton’s Starlight Room, high atop the Sir Francis Drake Hotel, is hosting a shindig with Sebastien Presents featuring ambitiously facial-haired stripper-rock DJ Meikee Magnetic and live drummer Mateo G of Heroes, plus funk-rap DJs Nile and Big Bad Bruce. Did I mention this is for charity? All proceeds from Ketel One sales (and a portion of the door) go to the American Red Cross, so drink up.

Wed/27 8 p.m., $20. Harry Denton’s Starlight Room, 450 Powell, SF. www.harrydenton.com

————

UNITE FOR HAITI

Surefire Sound, Big Up magazine, and YBR promotions offer up two big rooms and the Venus Tour Bus outside, bumping dubstep (DJs Joe Nice, Ultraviolet, Sam Supa, Blackheart, NTRLD, Dubsworth, Maneesh the Twister, Lud Dub), reggae (Green B and Daneekah, Stepwise, Nowtime Sound, I&I Vibration) and blunted breaks (Coop D’ville, Ripple, Bogl, Jon Holiday, DJ Cruz, General Nao). With classic MCs Emcee Child and Chronic G. All proceeds go to Yele.org.

Thu/28, 10 p.m., $5–$15. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.mighty119.com

————-

HAITI AID

Woah. Woah, woah, woah. The city’s best electro, indie, and globaltronics clubs are joining forces to bring the relief, and it’s gonna be a madhouse. All door proceeds will be donated to the Red Cross. Tearing it up live: inimitable rap trio HOTTUB and live electro-bangers Tenderlions. Smashing DJ sets by Bad Neighbors, Eric Sharp, Disco Shawn, Jeffrey Paradise, Nisus, Omar, Richie Panic, Shane King, Sleazemore, Sticky K., and White Girl Lust.

Sat/30, 9 p.m., $10–<\d>$15 suggested donation. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. www.mezzaninesf.com

————-

HAITI SWING DANCE BENEFIT

C’mon, you know you want to do the Shorty George with Big Bea for Haiti. Join the Queer Jitterbugs (straight people, beginners, and straight beginners gladly welcomed!) for a night of whirling and twirling for the cause. No need to bring a partner, even — there’ll be plenty to go around.

Sun/31, 7 p.m. beginners lesson ($10 suggested donation), 7:30 p.m.–9:30 p.m. dance ($5–$10 suggested donation). Live Art Gallery, 151 Potrero, SF. www.queerjitterbugs.com

————–

HOPE FOR HAITI

Did someone say classic San Francisco house bonanza? I did. Mark Farina, Miguel Migs, Fred Everything, Garth, Jeno, Julius Papp, David Harness, J-Boogie, M3, Galen, Solar, MFR, Frankie Boissy, Chris Smith, Chris Lum, and Consuelo are taking us back in style. Part of the international House4Haiti.com movement, which is coordinating parties worldwide, this lovely event is giving 100 percent of its proceeds to Doctors Without Borders. It’s also going to wear out my new pumps.

Monday, Feb. 1, 7 p.m.–1 a.m., $10 suggested donation, Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.mighty119.com

Welcome to violence

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MUSIC Late last year, Stones Throw Records announced it would release a full-length album of tunes by its veritable resident producer, Madlib, in 2010 … every month. Dubbed Madlib Medicine Show, the 12-part series sounds like a rap nerd fantasy.

Ever since his critically-lionized Quasimoto adventure, 2000’s The Unseen (Stones Throw), when he adopted a helium voice and crafted adult cartoons straight out of Fritz the Cat (1972) and Le Planete Sauvage (1973), Madlib has defined an idiom of crackling sampled loops, slightly buggered raps, and thick clouds of weed smoke. Over 15 years deep into a career that kicked off with a cameo on the Alkaholiks’ 1993 debut 21 and Over (Loud), the L.A. musician’s enigmatic vision perseveres, even as the idealistic underground scene he once occupied — remember back in the ’90s when his old group the Lootpack chastised wannabe gangsta rappers on “The Antidote”? — has turned cynical, becoming obsessed with the same “mainstream” guns-drugs-porn-money quadrangle it once criticized

Meanwhile, onetime critics who complained that Madlib produces too many records have been hushed by a rapacious Internet age, where weekly emissions of tracks and mixtapes are de rigueur. For example, L.A. indie rapper Blu, a promising inheritor of the West Coast hip-hop tradition, has been on “hiatus” for well over a year as he crafts his major label debut, yet still manages to upload several albums’ worth of free online “demos.” Madlib’s dozens of aliases (Yesterday’s New Quintet, DJ Rels, take your pick) and chaotic forays into post-bop, free jazz, soul-jazz broken beat, Brazilian tropicalia, and deep funk might seem quaint in comparison.

Smartly, Madlib doesn’t give his music away for free. The Madlib Medicine Show may resemble those Internet “loosies” and “street albums” you downloaded last night, but he makes you pay for the privilege of hearing his work. (Or at least he tries to; no one is immune to the Web’s torrential bootlegging.)

The first installment, No. 1: Before the Verdict, is particularly pointed in its message of commerce as a soul-destroying, mind-blowing shit-stem. The cover depicts a charred $1 bill (with a weed leaf embedded in a corner), an industrial plant spewing toxic waste, and the World Trade Center being bombed by an airplane. The interior features photos of strangely voodoo-fied Africans — one has a hand protruding from her mouth — and the cryptic message: “There were only three witnesses. Two are dead. The other isn’t talking.”

Before the Verdict’s 17 tracks consist of remixes of Guilty Simpson’s 2007 album Ode to the Ghetto, and a few previews of a forthcoming collaboration tentatively titled OJ Simpson. (Again, just like those damned Internet “street albums.”) Guilty is a decent if ornery thug rapper, but he’s clearly no match for Madlib’s symphony of ’70s soul “rapps,” funky howls, vinyl hiss, DJ cuts, burps and farts, pungent jokes culled from ’60s comedy albums (Redd Foxx and Millie Jackson!), and police scanner snippets. The Detroit rapper’s litanies about “Gettin’ Bitches” and “Robbery” are vocal anchors drowned by the Madlib Invazion’s furiously funky creativity.

Remember when that Quasimoto album intoned at the very beginning, “Welcome to violence”? These days, Madlib doesn’t just promise it. In rave terms, he has entered his hardcore phase. No longer positive and consciousness-expanding, the blessed weed smoke is fuel for a crank personality. The transformation is compelling, hilarious, and frightening. As the rap world’s version of “reality” narrows into a handful of masculine fantasies, Madlib has become the era’s pamphleteer, printing out screaming headlines like a crazed prophet of doom.

Not all of his current work sounds like a ghetto dystopia. On his 2008 homage to his late friend James “J Dilla” Yancey, Beat Konducta Vol. 5-6: A Tribute To …(Stones Throw), Madlib employed the same collagist techniques with melancholy, loving care. And then there’s the other album Madlib produced this month, Strong Arm Steady’s In Search of Stoney Jackson (Stones Throw). The L.A. group fares somewhat better than Guilty Simpson. Madlib lets their hard-rock rhymes breathe a little, before snuffing them with musical ether

MADLIB

with DJ Shortkut

Fri/29, 10 p.m., $20

Mighty

119 Utah, SF.

www.mighty119.com

Potrero punk power

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When I meet with the triad that makes up Dadfag at Four Barrel Coffee, Eva Hannan explains that they are operating on no sleep. She and fellow guitarist-vocalist Danielle Benson had woken up at dawn to drive their Sacramento friends from Ganglians home after they’d stayed in the city to see Dadfag play the previous night at El Rio. The exhaustion doesn’t show. Instead, Dadfag have the same delirious energy one witnesses when they perform, except that Benson has blown out her voice.

What DadFag does musically is simple. Their potent punk power chords simultaneously assault and envelope. The rabid hardcore recantations (“Tits”) and sludge-y post-punk numbers (“Water”) on the band’s debut album Scenic Abuse (Broken Rekids) reflect a natural tendency to prefer extremes — love/hate, strong/soft, superfast/slow — over anything banal or middle-of-the-road. Witness drummer Alan Miknis’ description of the band: “We’re really sweet and also the biggest assholes at the same time.”

In concert, Dadfag’s fervid spirit compels curiosity. The band is aware of this. “I think having enthusiasm, like true enthusiasm about things, and life, and music, and your friends –” Benson says.

“And not just doing it to get laid,” Hannan interjects.

“Yeah, well that’s a perk,” Benson quips, before concluding, “People are attracted to that. They want to be around people who are excited about things for real.”

It’s hard to decide if the members of Dadfag are disrupting one another or finishing each other’s sentences. It seems that it might work both ways. Hannan explains how Benson “lost her shit” and moved out to the Bay, and Benson explains how Hannan “lost her shit” and followed suit.

“She came and slept on my air mattress with me for a little,” Benson says, going on to observe that air mattresses are more comfortable with two people. “Yeah, it evens it out,” agrees Hannan. “But you both roll to the middle, so it’s always funny.”

The members of Dadfag knew each other back in Athens, Ga., where Hannan grew up, Benson went to graduate school, and Miknis drove up from Americus, an even more secluded Southern town, to see shows. But their friendship didn’t truly commence until they all landed in the Bay Area. “We had the same circle of friends, but we never talked,” Miknis explains. Through another Athens transplant, the now-defunct fuzz-rock band Long Legged Woman, the three eventually found each other.

Dadfag didn’t just find each other, they also found themselves here. “Living in San Francisco is so great, everyone should move here,” says Hannan. Their explanation of why they despised Georgia is a bit fragmented, but with no shortage of reasons: “It’s a drag.” “There’s nothing going on.” “Everyone is drunk all the time.” “I got called a fag a lot more.”

The three found (or rediscovered) music after arriving in San Francisco. Hoping to start a band, Benson and Hannan began sharing the song scraps they’d written. Justin Flowers of Long Legged Woman suggested Miknis join Dadfag, and the three subsequently started squatting in Long Legged Woman’s practice space in Potrero Hill. “Sometimes with music, people will really match up well,” Hannan says. “And it just so happens that our first real experience playing music with one other person or trying to write with one other person worked that way.”

A year-and-a-half and more than 200 shows later, they’ve come a long way from not being able to follow Miknis’ drumming and just trying to play as loud and fast as possible. “Until I played in this band, there were a lot of things I didn’t feel empowered about, especially playing music loud in front of people,” says Benson. “It gives you the confidence to say or do or be anything you want to.”

DADFAG

With the Baths, Neighbors and Making Tents

Thurs/28, 9 p.m., $6

Hemlock Tavern

1131 Polk, SF

(415) 923-0923

Do make drone

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MUSIC “One, 1,000 … two, 1,000 … three, 1,000 …” I’m counting down the seconds, by phone, between rare Bay Area lightning flash and thunderbolt with dAS, experimental composer and core member of Big City Orchestra. He’s at the 30-year-old noise-collage collective’s studio in Alameda, preparing for the BCO radio show, ubRadio, streamed live every Wednesday afternoon through a Web site in Amsterdam. “Maybe I’ll just put a box of microphones out in the storm today,” dAS says with a chuckle, to catch the air’s anticipatory crackle

Big City Orchestra, an “art/anti-art organism,” is a stunningly prolific entity boasting dozens of members and 130 hour-long releases on more than 100 labels. Its output ranges in diversity from collections of microtones coaxed from coffee beans and popcorn kernels to full-orchestral whirling dervish drones and bursts of nervy circuit-bending. Entrancing sculpted-static epics slither into its catalog next to winking pop cut-ups like now-legendary album Beatlerape (Staalplaat, 1993), which shoves the Fab Four into a blender with William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy and pushes “pulverize.”

It’s a deliberately omnivorous — and very Californian — aesthetic, sonically spanning the impish instrumental inventions of East Bay composer Harry Partch and the arcane postmodernisms of entropy-obsessed Hollywood sound conceptualist GX Jupitter-Larsen. (Jupitter-Larsen’s wonderful quote “Imagine flogging a dead horse your whole life” seems to follow Big City Orchestra around the Internet.) The Orchestra came of age during the fertile underground mail art and cassette culture period of music history, where punk aspiration met industrial machination and hallucinogenic exultation. (BCO toured with Legendary Pink Dots in the early 1990s, and some of its more bitingly humorous compositions summon Butthole Surfers and Negativland.)

And did I mention funny hats? They’re often in abundance at BCO performances, as are giant puppets, swirling backdrops, and arty projections. For the orchestra’s 30th anniversary show, Sun/31 at Café Du Nord, all these elements will be in abundance, including a “reenactment” of Beatlerape. “We’re going to squeeze 30 years of music into three hours with more than 20 guest perfomers and the whole works. Everything from building artforms to chainsawing trees,” dAS promises.

The Orchestra began life in Southern California (“Oh, somewhere around Torrance, Hawthorne, Redondo — those kinds of places,” says dAS) in 1979 as the “in-house music supplier” for a network of houses full of students who “weren’t necessarily into prerecorded music.” dAS himself studied at UCLA, and “probably benefited from or was cursed by having a father who was a rocket scientist and a mother who later became a psychiatrist.” Nomadic in nature — dAS and his wife and musical collaborator Ninah Pixie often tour Europe via camper and couch — BCO “somehow found its way to the Bay Area,” where has made a home in its Ubuibi studios (www.ubuibi.com).

But dAS seems averse to discussing the past, or experimental music lineage and theory in general. As befits the restless nature of Big City Orchestra — or Big Seit Ohr_Kastra, or Pig Kitty Porkestra, or an infinity of other names the group has taken — the musical moment is always now, and the sound of now is the one most suitable to the situation at hand. “Look, we’re all monkeys with thumbs, ” dAS says, “and if I don’t keep my thumbs busy, it’s trouble. Yes, I’ve listened to ‘serious’ experimental composers — I know about that stuff — but I also love pop stuff. Seeing Devo at one of their first performances changed my life, and I think XTC is the best band to have ever existed.”

“The Big City Orchestra approach is always project-by-project,” dAS continues. “We take each case on its own merits, improvising on whatever materials are appropriate. It’s more a matter of pulling a zany, hare-brained scheme out of one of our heads — we’re currently doing a pirate record for kids. It’s just circumstantial. Hopefully that derails a lot of theoretical questions.”

OK, then, what are some of the circumstances? “I just got my hands on three harmoniums. Man, you can do a lot of damage with three harmoniums. Or sometimes we like to just confound expectations. At a recent NorCal Noise Festival, after three days of acts blowing out eardrums, we took everyone outside, sat them in a circle, gave them all teacups, and put the kettle on. Our contribution was the sound of water coming to a boil, and then serving tea.”

Or how about this? “We do a TV show in the East Bay where we basically treat the TV as a light source, just playing around with different-colored lights. There’s 2.4 million potential viewers, so you figure there must be at least 1,000 stoners who happen upon it and hopefully love it. Maybe it even means something to someone — who knows?

“Frivolity is important,” dAS concludes. “Sometimes it’s good to have art that just fills a hole in the wall. Or sometimes it’s not.”

BIG CITY ORCHESTRA 30TH ANNIVERSARY SHOW

Sun/31

8 p.m., $10

Café Du Nord

2170 Market, SF.

www.cafedunord.com