Marke B.

Paw bump

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Paw bump

For the past couple of years, Pawesome.net has been the Gawker of fuzzy cuddliness, collecting all the coolest, most relevant pet news onto one — yes — awesome blog. From in depth stories about Dogs of the Ninth Ward and Japanese disaster animal rescue help to peeps at intriguing and sometimes scandalous pet trends and products, Pawesome covers it all with fine feathered flair. Local BFF founders Sonia Zjawinski and Sarah Han (formerly of the Guardian) chatted with us over e-mail. 

SFBG Pawesome is very active about animal welfare — what are some of the issues you’ve covered that have meant the most to you?

Sonia Zjawinski It’s the awful stories of abuse and neglect that often go viral, but for every horrible person out there we believe there are thousands of kind, selfless people who truly care about animals. For example, last year we posted about a group of Brooklyn bartenders who got together to save an abused and sick stray puppy. A lot of people walk past animals in need and think there’s nothing they can do, but this generous group proved that it doesn’t take much to help and the reward is priceless.

Sarah Han I’m a huge advocate for getting people to adopt from shelters and rescue groups. I find it really sad that there are so many perfectly adoptable animals in shelters that are at risk of being put down because people are still buying pets from breeders and pet stores. I’m all for the ban of selling animals in pet stores in San Francisco, and everywhere else in the country. I’m also a fan of rescue groups that focus on older pet adoptions, like Muttville in San Francisco. I love senior cats and dogs because they’re usually pretty chill dudes.

SFBG Which Pawesome post is your favorite?

SZ Last year’s April Fool’s joke — we wrote that Stephen Colbert bought Cat Fancy and was rebranding the magazine as Colbert’s Cat Nation. No calls from Colbert’s people asking us to come on the show yet, though.

SFBG What are some interesting trends or story lines happening now on the pet scene?

SZ One of the most exciting areas in the pet industry is the influx of goods on Etsy. The world of toys and accessories used to be very limited, and you were stuck with ones made out of eco-unfriendly materials produced in even more eco-unfriendly countries. With Etsy, there’s an amazing collection of handmade gear crafted out of organic or sustainable materials, and made right here in the States. And it’s stuff you won’t gag at when you see it in your home.

SH I’ve noticed that people are paying more attention to what their pets are eating these days. The pet food recalls definitely got people thinking about all the crap that big commercial companies (and even some pet “health food” companies) get away with. People are also concerned with pet obesity. As our lives get busier, we get fatter and so do our pets. There’s a pet-people gym in Bernal Heights (Fit Bernal Fit) and doggy yoga classes for folks to get in shape while exercising their dogs, too.

I think we’ll be hearing about more of those kinds of services in the future, and maybe because of the off-leash dog issue that’s been raging in SF. Dog owners are feeling very threatened by the GGNRA possibly ending their off-leash privileges in outdoor spaces. I’m torn on the issue because I think dogs need and love outdoor time, but I also believe in protecting what wildlife we have left in the city. Hopefully we can come to an agreement that allows for everyone, including dogs, to enjoy the outdoors.

Party Radar: Happy birthday, sexy Lexy

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Party Radar: Happy birthday, sexy Lexy

Gosh and begorrah, I know you’re hungovah — from all that St. Paddy’s Day grog or whatever. Don’t worry, you’ll feel better by Saturday, just in time to celebrate the Lexington Club‘s 14th anniversary, huzzah! Unfamiliar with this rowdy party dyke landmark? Hot chicks, get hip real quick at this blowout, featuring DJs Jenna Riot and Miss Pop, sexy-sexy dancers, no cover, and of course stiff drinks.

After the jump, a Super Ego clubs column from 2007 devoted to the Lex’s 10th anniversary (which was the perfect antidote to the L Word phenomenon of the time), giving you a wee bit o’ lesbian history.

LEXINGTON CLUB 14TH ANNIVERSARY Sat/19, 9 p.m., free. Lexington Club, 3464 19th St., SF. www.lexingtonclub.com

(originally published 4/10/07):

HOT LEX

10 years of hot dykes and cold beer at the Lexington Club

SUPER EGO Lesbians: is there nothing they can’t do? They can run a contemporary art gallery in thigh-baring Versace, tossing back their Paul Labrecqued locks as they leap from their roofless 330Ci. They can go from homeless crack addict to nude Hugo Boss model without gaining a single ounce. They can be a smokin’-hot Latina named Papi, a sassy, brassy canoodler who just happens — surprise! — to be a whiz at hoops. Astonishing lesbians!

Oh, wait. That’s The L Word — about as far from the real world of gloriously rambunctious, wild San Francisco dykes as you can get without scarfing down a gift sack of MAC Pervette lip frost, doing Pilates to Ashlee Simpson (“I am me!”), and microwaving Cheeto, your stump-tailed calico cat. Yes, yes, I know the writhing isle of televised lesbos that L makes LA out to be is one big, fat, easy, anorexic target. Don’t get your Mary Green panties in a bunch, Caitlyn. Just lie back, relax, and think of Joan Jett and Carmen Electra. It’s OK. But just as Chuck D. once bemoaned the fact that most of his heroes don’t appear on no stamps, so my homo heroes don’t appear on no Showtime.

Case in point: Lila Thirkield, the superhumanly vivacious owner of SF sapphic outpost the Lexington Club. When I first moved here in the early ’90s, I almost turned straight or something. The San Francisco my naive dreams envisioned was full of hot, scruffy, tattooed boys into hip-hop and punk, all of them on goofy, gleaming bicycles, occasionally in drag. What I got were mostly overgymed proto–circuit queens in pink spandex thongs and cracked-out twinks you could practically see through. Great if I needed to floss, but … And while all the cute ex–ACT UPers were somewhere adrift — busy shearing sleeves off flannels, maybe — it was the rough-and-tumble sistas who really dotted the t’s on my fanboy résumé. Dykes ruled it.

That was back when wallet chains were radical and FTMs were the new It girls. I’m dating myself, but who wouldn’t, hello? Alas, despite all those Sister Sledge–soundtracked strides up the rainbow of equal signs, women could still get kicked out of bars for making out. Wha? It was a gay man, man, man’s world, and the few lesbian watering holes hewed strictly to the old-school standards: alternadykes, calm down.

Thirkield, a spiky-souled kid at the time, stepped up and opened the Lexington in 1997 to give dykes of a different stripe a dive of their own. Like all bars clever enough to fill a cultural gap, the Lex galvanized its community and reinforced the new, boisterous lesbo aesthetic that combined street activism, machismo appropriation, punk rock attitude, and a winking yen for girly pop culture. And hot sex, of course.

“It seemed so important to have a space where we could be creative, where artists, street kids, and young people could hook up and express themselves,” Thirkield says. “It was my first time running a bar, but it was like the whole community was running it with me.”

Over the past decade the Lex has persevered in the same spirit. “The economics of the city have really changed,” Thirkield says. “Our crowd has a really hard time living here now — that’s why we never charge a cover and we always support other things going on. But really, we’re doing better than ever.”

The young drinking dyke crowd has also expanded, finding homes over the years in such spaces as the Phone Booth and Pop’s, as well as legendary joints such as Sadie’s Flying Elephant and the Wild Side West. New bar Stray is catering to a mostly female clientele, and, although lesbian spaces Cherry and the old Transfer have succumbed, a slew of roving dyke dance parties have taken root.

“The dyke scene has changed in the past 10 years too,” Thirkield says. “It’s more diverse. Certain aspects of it are more visible in the media — some people expect different things. We get a lot more complaints from people coming in for the first time, saying things like ‘It’s such a dive!’ Well, yes, that’s exactly what it is. I mean, it’s great that lipstick types exist. I hope they find a place that makes them happy. But if you want to flick your lighter and sing along to old Journey songs with a roomful of babes from around the world — like during Pride last year — this is the place.”

And what about that pesky L Word? “We get a big crowd to watch it on Sunday nights — mostly because they can’t afford cable. Then they stay for an hour afterward, drinking and bitching about it. So it’s great for business!”

Seven for spring

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Seven for spring

marke@sfbg.com

FASHION/SHOPPING Everything seems so chill in men’s street wear lately, no? The harsh electro neons and jittery MySpace fabrics of the past few years have gone the way of shutter shades and full-print tees. Flashiness — on the dance floor, on the streets, online — is fading into a style of subtle sparks, complex yet unfussy, mixing high-tech winks with a comfy, endlessly expandable base. Menswear is going deep on us, and taking our sensibilities with it: if you’re still using irony to justify your outfit, then you need to back slowly away from your Tumblr and take a look around.

This makes it harder to binge shop for your wardrobe at thrift stores, of course, unless you’ve got a great connection to a super-hip tailor who won’t go overboard. And I fear that by jettisoning the devil-may-care attitude of WTF bricolage ensembles, we’re quaffing any sense of humor altogether. Still, the burst of, dare I say, modesty after a decade of gaudy attention-whoring comes as a relief. It feels like menswear in 2011 just totally deleted the comments section and moved on.

Another worry, though: how much does all this cost? It’s true that the new look and feel hearkens back to the old model of class, taste, and, yes, accounts. Fortunately, you can get by just fine matching neutral-leaning thrift and vintage finds — some holes or split seams, no problem — with newer touches. Yay for casual deconstruction! Lately San Francisco, previously by no means an oasis of menswear shopping, has opened up in the cool men’s streetwear department, adding to its handful of staples (Nomads, Upper Playground, Density, Unionmade, Azalea, Brooklyn Circus, etc.) a batch of new places and sites to search for spring inspiration. Below are some of my faves.

 

SUI GENERIS “ILLE”

This is the coolest place to vintage shop in the city right now. Castro men’s designer consignment boutique Sui Generis isn’t new, but it just moved, doubling its size as well as its offerings, and adding “Ille,” a Latin masculine declension, after its name. (Owners Miguel Lopez and Gabriel Yanez have turned the old location, at 2265 Market St., into “Illa,” a gorgeous upscale women’s consignment shop.) I’m far from a label whore, but I can appreciate when my friends gush over the selection of repriced Prada, etc. on offer here, all of it chosen with an excellent eye. Beyond the brand worship, you’ll find everything you need to construct a look here — just add your own futuristic flourishes — and the prices aren’t too shabby.

2265 Market, SF. (415) 437-2231, www.suigenerisconsignment.com

 

NICE COLLECTIVE MSU

Just down the street from Sui Generis is this rad pop-up shop from the boys at the fantastic local Nice Collective label, showcasing their particular genius for deconstructed clothing that radiates raffish gentility. (I’m living for their anarcho-utopian push-up cargo pants.) The tech details in most of their designs are fascinating, and the interior of this shop, with its disassembled drop ceiling, billowing canvas tunnel entrance, and digital projections, is a work of art in itself. Nice Collective is a real, big time design house, though, so expect related price points and quality.

2111 Market, SF. (415) 200-5322, www.nicecollective.com

 

HANGR 16

Go to this just-opened Mission District store if only to bask in the incredible friendliness, not pushiness, of the people who work there. As well as carrying unique items from local design wunderkinds Turk + Taylor — I’m still drooling over this one heavy felt Army jacket there — Hangr 16 offers an array of super-affordable button-ups, western shirts, plaid flannels, jeans, and nifty tees in its immaculate little white hangar of a space. More shopping options in the Mission? Oh yeah.

3128 16th St., SF. (415) 626-5522. www.faceboook.com/hangr16

 

BUSH + LEAVENWORTH

A smooth take on classic Americana from this online design house, founded by Neth Nom at his apartment guess where. Light plaid button-ups and some mouthwatering tee designs based on chess pieces (queen for me!) are highlights, as is the ultra-sporty nylon Fillmore windbreaker, combining Members Only stylishness with team jacket masculinity.

www.bushandleavenworth.com

 

MISSION WORKSHOP

Bike enthusiasts with chronic Chrome fatigue should fixie-fly to this hidden little warehouse outlet immediately. Beautifully crafted messenger bags and backpacks in unique styles are the draw, but the supplementary Quoc Pham, DZR, and house footwear, plus a good selection of outerwear, transcend utility to style bliss.

40 Rondel Place, SF. (415) 864-7225, www.missionworkshop.com

 

REVOLVER

I am crying, weeping with want, over this kickass pair of Yuketen Maine Guide OX Red shoes that look like Docksides on steroids. They are $440 at Revolver, a cute little joint that just opened in Lower Haight, and, alas, I sold my first-born for a baggie in the 1990s. But I am going to try them on with a pair of $199 Denham Mohawk chinos and a post-prepster $160 ecru Vassan 2-Tone jacket and yacht rock the fuck out for a few minutes.

136 Fillmore, SF. (415) 871-0665, www.revolversf.com

 

ALLSAINTS SPITALFIELDS

I really hate to recommend a chain, even one from Britain that’s just launching on these shores. But hey, I can’t afford anything here anyway (basic shirts start at around $140), so I’m going to tell you to go and check it out, if only because of the stunning interior that mixes steampunk accents with actual Victoriana. The clothes represent the complete yet fascinating gentrification of a certain postapocalyptic Burning Man aesthetic (the one without the sex clowns and fun fur). Everything is perfectly distressed — work boots, for instance, that gleam vermilion in certain slants of light.

140 Geary, SF. (415) 762-0702, www.allsaints.com

Luminous “Rothko Chapel” comes to SF Symphony

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Luminous “Rothko Chapel” comes to SF Symphony

Ambient music is currently waging a sustained comeback (even the old ’80s New Age label Windham Hill has been sending me emails lately!) But if you’re looking for something that reaches for timelessness — with a lot more philosophical underpinnings than Yanni has mock turtlenecks — then the glowing symphonic sound sculpture that is Morton Feldman‘s “Rothko Chapel,” coming to the SF Symphony Wed/23-Sat/26, is just what you’re after.

Written in 1971 by the intellectually restless composer as a specific commission for the great Abstract Expressionist painter’s Houston chapel, Feldman’s meditative work for chorus, viola, percussion, and orchestra — which will surely be burnished to shining perfection by conductor Michael Tilson Thomas, he’s like that — replicates the spiritual absorption that can overwhelm when face-to-face with a Rothko canvas, let alone the 16 at once that comprise the chapel.

(I always think of Rothkos as paper towels for the soul. Feldman supposedly once said, “Do we have anything in music for example that really wipes everything out? That just cleans everything away?”)

Here’s a wonderful paragraph on Feldman’s relationship to art, especially Rothko, written by Alex Ross in 2006:

The example of the painters was crucial. Feldman’s scores were close in spirit to Rauschenberg’s all-white and all-black canvases, Barnett Newman’s gleaming lines, and, especially, Rothko’s glowing fog banks of color. His habit of presenting the same figure many times in succession invites you to hear music as a gallery visitor sees paintings; you can study the sound from various angles, stand back or move up close, go away and come back for a second look. Feldman said that New York painting led him to attempt a music “more direct, more immediate, more physical than anything that had existed heretofore.” Just as the Abstract Expressionists wanted viewers to focus on paint itself, on its texture and pigment, Feldman wanted listeners to absorb the basic facts of resonant sound. At a time when composers were frantically trying out new systems and languages, Feldman choseto follow his intuition. He had an amazing ear for harmony, for ambiguous collections of notes that tease the brain with never-to-be-fulfilled expectations. Wilfrid Mellers, in his book “Music in a New Found Land,” eloquently summed up Feldman’s early style: “Music seems to have vanished almost to the point of extinction; yet the little that is left is, like all of Feldman’s work, of exquisite musicality; and it certainly presents the American obsession with emptiness completely absolved from fear.” In other words, we are in the region of Wallace Stevens’s “American Sublime,” of the “empty spirit / In vacant space.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxSt_w2ODaQ

(Speaking of vacant spaces, I absolutely love how the lowish resolution on the Rothko paintings in the video above melt their surface scrabbles into pixellated smears.)

SF SYMPHONY PRESENTS MORTON FELDMAN’S “ROTHKO CHAPEL”

with Mozart’s “Requiem in D Minor”

Wed/23 at 8pm, Thur/24 at 2pm, Fri/25 at 8pm, Sat/26 at 8pm

$35-$140

Davies Symphony Hall

201 Van Ness, SF

www.sfsymphony.org

Where were you?

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Where were you?

marke@sfbg.com

FILM Amid the worshipful bromides that attended the 100th birthday of zombie Ronald Reagan on Feb. 6, gay blogger Joe.My.God. helped bring back to light a transcript of a 1982 press briefing Q&A session between Reagan administration spokesman Larry Speakes and journalist Lester Kinsolving. It’s the first known time that AIDS was brought up at the White House.

Lester Kinsolving: Larry, does the president have any reaction to the announcement — the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, that AIDS is now an epidemic and have over 600 cases?

SPEAKES: What’s AIDS?

LK: Over a third of them have died. It’s known as “gay plague.” (Laughter.) No, it is. I mean it’s a pretty serious thing that one in every three people that get this have died. And I wondered if the president is aware of it?

SPEAKES: I don’t have it. Do you? (Laughter.)

LK No, I don’t …

SPEAKES: How do you know? (Laughter.)

LK: In other words, the White House looks on this as a great joke?

The answer, as the briefing spiraled into hysterics, was yes. It’s long been a source of bitterness that Reagan didn’t publicly refer to AIDS until 1987, after the disease had officially killed 20,849 Americans, been identified in 113 countries, and started to be “normalized” by the infection of young white children and closeted Hollywood superstars. But it was the laughter as gays lay dying that brought an angry population together, and that still rings in the ears of those who survived.

Reagan isn’t mentioned in David Weissman’s important and moving new documentary about San Francisco’s early response to the AIDS epidemic, We Were Here — although his communications director Pat Buchanan and Moral Majority leader Jerry Falwell get split-second references, as does the heinous Proposition 64, the heroically defeated 1986 California ballot measure that could have led the way to quarantining gays. We Were Here isn’t a political polemic about the lack of governmental support that greeted the onset of the disease. Nor is the film a kind of cinematic And the Band Played On, exhaustively laying out all the historical and medical minutiae of HIV’s dawn. (See PBS Frontline’s engrossing 2006 The Age of AIDS for that.) There’s no mention of crystal meth, the Internet, the HIV denialist movement, protease inhibitors, depression, or survivor guilt. ACT-UP and the AIDS quilt are discussed only briefly. And you’ll find virtually nothing about the infected world outside the United States or the ongoing fight against the disease.

A satisfying 90-minute documentary couldn’t possibly cover all the aspects of AIDS, of course, even the local ones. Instead, Weissman’s film, codirected with Bill Weber and full of often astonishing tidbits, concentrates mostly on AIDS in the 1980s and tells a more personal and, in its way, more controversial story. What happened in San Francisco when gay people started mysteriously wasting away? And how did the epidemic change the people who lived through it?

The first question provides the narrative framework of the film. In the beginning, we’re introduced to five quintessentially San Franciscan characters, identified only by their first names: Ed, Paul, Daniel, Guy, and Eileen. As they tell their stories about how and why they came to San Francisco, and familiar-yet-still-striking archival photos of an unfettered 1970s Castro District fill the screen, you begin to realize Weissman’s impressive canniness in choosing to focus on these wise and almost preternaturally calm people, who turn out to be major players in the horror that slowly engulfs the film. (And We Were Here is indeed structured like a horror flick, with subtle early notes of discord foreshadowing the graphic images to come. The only thing missing is the screaming.)

Guy, for example, is Guy Clark of the legendary Guy’s Flowers in the Castro. He leads the story from the “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” era through the flower-bedecked funerals of the stricken — touching for a moment on the reaction in SF’s African American community — before bearing witness to a recent miraculous recovery, a man actually rising from a wheelchair to walk again. Other participants tell the stories of SF General Hospital’s groundbreaking AIDS Ward 5B/5A, the Shanti Project, Visual AIDS, and the “San Francisco model” of multifaceted, compassionate care for people with AIDS* before contemporary treatments became available.

The tales are well told and expertly woven together, as in Weissman’s earlier doc The Cockettes. Most of these people necessarily focused on the daily work of trying to help in order to stay sane. But where We Were Here really hits home is in its foregrounding of many unspoken or buried truths about that specific AIDS period that are in danger of being lost (one of which is that people who lived with HIV back then were often scaldingly candid about what was happening to their bodies.)

AIDS was annoying — it just went on and on. Participant Ed talks honestly about how he had to give up caring for patients out of exhaustion. AIDS got gay people where it really hurt: their vanity. The whole thing really fucked with your look. AIDS was bewildering. Suddenly people who had dropped out and run away to the Gay Mecca had to become medical experts, their recreational chemicals replaced with excruciating concoctions of exotic panic treatments. And women actually existed during AIDS. One of the most touching stories is about how the lesbian community rushed to donate blood.

The biggest act of emotional archeology, however, is the acknowledgement that some good came of AIDS. Not just in the well-known sense that it brought a marginalized community together and showed gay people as humans. It also personally transformed the narrators. Most of them found their calling, maybe lifelong satisfaction, during the AIDS crisis. We Were Here will affect viewers on a deep level, perhaps allowing many to weep openly about what happened for the first time. But it’s no mere sobfest. (My dead friends would have hated that.) It’s a testament to the absolute craziness of life, and the strange places it can take you — if you survive it.

WE WERE HERE OPENING PARTY with Rufus Wainwright Fri/25, 7:30 p.m., $25. Castro Theatre, 429 Castro, SF. Film plays the Castro Theatre through March 3. www.castrotheatre.com, www.wewereherefilm.com

*An earlier version of this article used the term “AIDS victims” to refer to those who had passed away from the disease. That term has a long and derogatory history, and still offended some readers, even when not used to refer to persons living with AIDS (PWAs), so we have replaced it above. It’s good evidence of how this film is re-enlivening debates. 

Work the throne: Interviews with the San Francisco Empress 2011 candidates

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Work the throne: Interviews with the San Francisco Empress 2011 candidates

Update: Saybeline has been crowned the new Empress. Congratulations to both the outstanding candidates, and warm wishes for the future.

In this week’s Super Ego column in the paper, I give a grateful nod to our esteemed – if little acknowledged — Imperial Court system, an incredible, drag-based 45-year-old institution that raises tens of thousands of dollars for charitable Bay Area causes. (Really, do yourself a historical favor and check out the recently revamped Imperial website.) Below are my full interviews with the candidates, Saybeline and Monistat.

The annual elections for Empress of San Francisco are coming fast upon us (Sat/19, free. Noon–7 p.m. at Castro Muni Station, Castro and Market, and 11 a.m.–6 p.m. at Project Open Hand, 730 Polk, SF.) The winner will devote the next year of her life to raising funds and repping SF — after she graciously endures a daylong coronation ceremony on Sat/26, one of the city’s true mind-blowing spectacles. (The winner will be announced at Coronation.)

I emailed a series of questions to both candidates in order to get a better sense of who they are and why we should vote for them. They each bring a different, welcome perspective to the competition that ultimately helps refresh this cherished local tradition.

SFBG  What is your Empress platform?

MONISTAT My mission to become Empress is to bridge communities together. We all know that Marlena’s [Bar in Hayes Valley] is the seat of power for the Imperial Court of San Francisco, and I being the outsider candidate promise to outreach to the members of this community. As Empress, I will be the Empress of San Francisco, not just the Castro, but the entire city. There are so many great facets of this town, and so much talent that I can use at my disposal to do some really good work! Being part of an amazing club scene in this town, I have been fortunate enough to work with some of the best promoters, DJs, performance artists, and venues, so why not refresh their eyes and give them something a little different.

SAYBELINE First and foremost, I offer an experienced continued commitment to service in our community. Additionally, I offer a continued commitment to honoring the 45-year history and traditions of the Imperial Council of San Francisco and the many Empresses and Emperors that have paved the way for many like myself, making a difference and serving in our community. Most importantly, my motivation comes from wishing to take on an expanded leadership role spearheading much needed grass roots community fundraising for our local network of diverse community based charitable organizations struggling to make ends meet.

I have actively been involved (both as a gay man and the persona of Saybeline Fernandez) in some way serving the LGBT community of San Francisco for over two decades. In those 20-plus years, I have giving my own money and served the community volunteering on the front lines for our LGBT political and human rights causes, volunteering for HIV/AIDS support services, services for our LGBT youth and services for our marginalized diverse communities. Additionally, I have lent my professional experience in event-planning to many fundraising events that have raised thousands of dollars and awareness, supporting and serving San Francisco. I also feel that one of the biggest differences in this campaign is that I have the ability and experience to energize and engage younger members of our community to become more actively involved in serving the community.

SFBG What would your first act as Empress be?

MONISTAT OMG Coronation is usually six hours long, and ends at midnight with the crowning of the new Empress. Its a long-held tradition. But of course win or lose, I’ll be out that night after the ball partying my brains out, to thank myself for finishing this amazing campaign. I will probably never sleep that night if I win, because usually I have to cart myself to all the bars that have sponsored me with the crown on my head, then have to be up and ready by 7am to go the Emperor Norton’s Cemetery all the way in Colma, in full mourning drag, with a veil on and everything (I secretly love all this pomp and circumstance). Then after a round of partying for three more days, I have to get working on my official Investiture, which naturally will be a fundraiser.

SAYBELINE This is easy for me. It’s sooo important to me that we get more younger members of our community actively involved in serving our community…. So many want to be involved but don’t know how. We have to open the doors, and engage and encourage them to have a greater presence in being of service.

SFBG How long have you wanted to be Empress?

MONISTAT What a loaded question. I believe that every queen is royalty and should be treated that way. The title of Empress just means you have to be in drag more than everyone else. I went to coronation last year. I’ve never won a title in my entire my life — all of my friends have kind of created their own niches and scenes in the city, so I thought, “Hey, why not do something my friends will never do?” So after talking to my closest pals, I decided to go for it and take the bull by the horns. Trust me, running for Empress is harder than most people think.. and it has taught me a lot of lessons about myself and growing up. It’s incredibly challenging to be put under a microscope 24/7 when everyone is watching you and every mistake you make is blown up 20,000 percent.

SAYBELINE I have been actively involved with the Imperial Council of San Francisco for a little over five years. And the thought of becoming Empress first crossed my mind some three years ago. As much as I may have wanted to run in previous years, I knew it was important to gain more experience within the court of San Francisco and the International Court System. Being Empress means both making a large personal financial committment and an expanded committment of one’s personal time. One has to have both in place in order to be successful. And after planning and getting things in order personally, the timing was finally right for me to throw my hat in and become a candidate and with the support of our community hopefully become the next elected Empress.

SFBG In one sentence, why should we vote for you as empress?

MONISTAT I’m young — my youthful energy combined with fresh ideas and the willingness to learn, plus my hands-on approach to things, is the perfect cure to a traditional court that needs to be shaken up a bit. My experience as a club promoter and my connections in this city will make for a great year as Empress. the Imperial Court is nearing its 50th year, there is need for new blood. I’m that queen. Oh yeah, I was also voted Best Drag Queen by the readers of SF Bay Guardian, enough said.

SAYBELINE A vote for Saybeline Fernandez is a vote for someone that offers leadership and experience — and someone committed to welcoming and encouraging younger members of our community to become more actively involved serving the community, raising much-needed funding for our local network of community-based charitable organizations.

Empress yourself

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Empress yourself

marke@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO It certainly has not escaped my attention that this whole amazing Arab youth uprising thing is taking place during Fashion Week. It’s a mitzvah! But while Hunky Beau and I have been busily rooting through Reuters for inspiring pics of various hipster Egyptsters and Tunisians turnin’ in out (or, conversely, signs of any uprising under the Manhattan tents — watch out for Joseph Altuzarra, y’all), I’ve tried to have more than fast-forward fashionistas in my forethoughts and yummy Yemenis on the Bahrain.

Specifically: gay democracy. It’s time once again for an annual event that still remains charmingly underground here, yet has a heavy impact on San Francisco’s charitable community and global gay image. For serious, the wigs alone weigh like 20 pounds. Yes, it’s time to elect a new Empress of San Francisco — and this year the candidates have come out fighting, but graciously.

If you’re unfamiliar with our nearly 50-year-old Imperial Court system, which originally took ironic inspiration from beloved-yet-deranged San Francisco scallywag Joshua Norton, who in 1859 declared himself Emperor of the United States — and which first found full flower in 1965 with majestic Absolute Empress Jose Sarria I, The Widow Norton, while later helping to lead the community through gay liberation and the AIDS crisis — then hie thee ho to the newly revamped www.imperialcouncilsf.org website for a highball full of essential history.

Empress 2011 will wholly dedicate the next year of her life raising tens of thousands of dollars for good causes through nightlife affairs and traveling to regally represent our fair burg at Imperial Courts around the world. And this year’s candidates make for a feisty ballot: Saybeline, glamorous longtime luminary of the LGBT fundraising scene, and rousing dark horse Monistat, the party promoter voted Best Drag Queen in the Guardian’s Best of the Bay poll.

If elected, the youthful Monistat promises to tap her extensive database of “promoters, DJs, performance artists, and venues” to “refresh” the institution. She also invokes her considerable party stamina, promising to give us night after night (after night) of fundraising in face.

Saybeline vows to throw “open the doors to younger members of our community” and to “engage and encourage them” to become more involved in community service. She puts forth her “two decades of experience in volunteering and organizing fundraising events” as one of the main reasons to grant her the crown.

The crown is stunning, btw.

There are two great guys running for emperor as well, Frankie Fernandez and Ray MacKenzie, and voting should be hot and heavy. Everyone 21+ who lives in San Francisco, Marin, and San Mateo is welcome to vote. So hit the polls and enjoy our freedoms while we wait for that exhilarating youth uprising to finally spread to Iraq! Oh wait …

SAN FRANCISCO EMPRESS 2011 VOTING DAY Sat/19, free. Noon–7 p.m. at Castro Muni Station, Castro and Market, and 11 a.m.–6 p.m. at Project Open Hand, 730 Polk, SF. www.imperialcouncilsf.org

>>Read Marke B.’s full interviews with the Empress 2011 candidates here

 

SLUMPFEST

“Slumps” = Cali-meets-Detroit (a.k.a. Calitroit) hip-hop beats. And this massive charitable beat battle, featuring two dozen future underground hitmakers, will surely tease out more than a few sublime J. Dilla apostles.

Fri/18, 9 a.m., $10 or $7 with can of food. Club Six, 60 Sixth St., SF. www.clubsix1.com

 

HOTTUB

Gotta give shouties to my fave Oakland female electro-hop terrors, rapping us up in cataclysmic Four Loko bliss. They’ll demolish the stage with the Tenderlions, Kool Karlo, and Frite Nite DJs.

Fri/18, 10 p.m.–3 a.m., $5 before 11 p.m., $10 after. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

Fried

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Fried

I don’t have a lot of pet peeves — that would break my lease. Other than, say, invading a country for no reason, making fun of people with mental illnesses and addictions, refusing to pay taxes because you think people of color are moochers, or ordering Uggs online, still, not much reliably gets my goat, ties it down with friendship bracelets and Danish dreadlocks, and forces it to listen to Ke$ha remixed by Tiësto while wearing Juicy Couture or Pink by Victoria’s Secret.  

Baaa.

I do however have an eensy beensy problem with fried food in bars. It may be because I recently quit smoking — farewell, dear Marlboro Man, please moisturize — but lately the combined and pungent waft of cheese-smothered freedom fries, bleachy bar-cleaning solution, and, heaven forfend, deep fried pickles (they have these at Truck in SoMa, they’re frickin’ delicious) makes me want to hurl rainbow Santorum. Could it be that I’m finally pregnant? We’ve tried so hard!

Alas, clouds of steamy trans fat, the unerotic kind, are what one must brave to enjoy Buck Tavern on Market Street, notorious for its new owner, former supervisor and mercurial rabble-rouser Chris Daly. It offers a full menu of yummily evil things whose scent can overpower the atmosphere. But other than that, and perhaps a slight overbrightness of lighting, I have no beef with the place. I’d been there before, when it was a sparsely occupied pool haunt (population: one large drag queen with a pool cue and a frightened-looking bartender) which served only beer and soju cocktails. Now, crowded with cute, diverse folks deep in interesting conversations, full call liquor bottles lining the wall, and the sound of cheerleaders screeching on the flatscreens, it feels downright cozy.

Others may fear clouds of a different sort — and yes this is a progressive wonk’s paradise. Daly can be found behind the bar many nights, and you’ll usually see some political player like John Avalos or Ross Mirkarimi or David Campos or “who the hell knows cuz they’re all slightly brown dudes with the same goatee-hair-tiny glasses thing going on” downing a well-priced pint. There’s even a spread-eagle copy of the Guardian to read over the urinal. (Aim high, haters.) But don’t worry, there’s no ideological purity check at the door, just a friendly sense of come-what-may. In fact, I think we may be witnessing the sudden materialization of some boisterous and idyllic parallel universe City Hall. With cheeseburgers, even!

BUCK TAVERN 1655 Market, SF. (415) 874-9183

 

PUPPY PILE

With newish monthly parties like Beatpig, Chickenbear, and OH! the Powerhouse is rapidly erasing its rep among queer youth as a bland haven for desperate cruisers into carnival techno and so-so blowjobs. This special benefit for Pets Are Wonderful Support brings together two of those parties, Chickenbear and OH! for a night of flying feathers (i.e., a bachelor auction) and rock ‘n’ roll hijinx.

Sat/5, 10 p.m., $5. Powerhouse, 1347 Folsom, SF. www.powerhouse-sf.com

 

PINK MAMMOTH SEVEN-YEAR ANNIVERSARY

I smell Burning Man! And it smells expensive. Luckily, I can enjoy some of the nuttier crews right now, for less than the price of one of the actual mammoths that scientists are hoping to clone this summer. (Imagine riding an actual mammoth onto the Playa. Imagine it with your mind!) So much glitch-funk, chunky techno, zen dubstep fun galore at the fuzzy pink tribe’s seventh hootenanny. Oh goddess, they have their own iPhone app and a hot dog bar. Nothing can stop them now.

Sat/5, 9 p.m.-late, $10–$15. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.pinkmammoth.org

 

EGYPTIAN LOVER

I don’t know if this is timely or not? Current events electro, people. The pioneer of electronic funk puts on one hell of a show, and has been jamming the box and rocking Planet Rock for like three decades now. He’ll be joined by Jaime Jupiter for a journey through the Electric Kingdom.

Sat/5, 10 p.m.-late, $20. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

 

MISS HONEY

Fashion-addict club kids, runway voguing, hip-hop DJs in the stripper pole room, and NYC’s Miss Honey Dijon on the main turntables. Work it out.

Sat/5, 10 p.m., $10. Supperclub, 647 Harrison, SF. www.supperclub.com

Knock knock

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Knock knock

superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO I think we’ve all agreed to finally bury overused buzzwords like “legendary” and “icon” and “classic” and “mitxirrika” in the cold, cold buzzground. Hype gives me the sneezes. Nevertheless, there are some accomplished parties and DJs making return visits (and, in one case, celebrating a semi-centennial) this week, which and who deserve some fresh superlatives.

 

DOC MARTIN

Dear me, Doc’s been such a part of the West Coast dance music landscape for the past 25 years that he can throw down any type of set he wants and walk away a winner. In the past two years alone, I’ve seen him pump early house, cutting-edge post-minimal, and full-on balls-out techno. He’s got the mastery to match his moods, the mark of true artistry.

Fri/21, 10 p.m., $15. Temple, 540 Howard, SF. www.templesf.com

 

FAG FRIDAY

At the previous lovely instance of this omnisexual soulful house party’s reunion, in October, I looked over the masses losing their minds when DJ David Harness dropped Danny Krivit’s rework of Derrick May’s “Strings of Life” and teared up a little with the gorgeous wonder of it all. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll strip off someone’s shirt and twirl around with it. Mr. Harness returns, with Juanita More, Rolo, and Miss “I Get Lifted” herself, diva Barbara Tucker live. One of my favorite things.

Fri/21, 10 p.m.–4 a.m., $10. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

 

JAZZY JEFF

Those 1990s revivalists will forever pin him to the Fresh Prince — but man, they just don’t understand. Jazz’s output, especially his recent mixes, has shown a level of crate sophistication and broadmindedness that transcends retro hip-hop shtick. Don’t worry, you’ll still get some joyous old-timey hands-in-the-air, but Jazz’ll drop some smart new hip-shake as well. With Apollo, Sake One, and the Whooligan.

Fri/21, 10 p.m.–late, $20. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.mighty119.com

 

KAFANA BALKAN

Are you being Serbed? Well, get Kosovar here! This raucous, incredibly fun party returns after a long hiatus for its fourth anniversary, its trademark Gypsy-influenced tunes in tow. There’s a dedicated crowd of oom pah pah-lovers, who live for live performances by talented ensemble Brass Menazeri and those almost-hallucinogenic moments when DJ Zeljko hits ’em with a vintage old-country slice in goddess-knows-what time signature. It’s a little bit Burner, a little bit Beatbox, and all Balkan, baby.

Sat/22, 9 p.m., $10. Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF. www.rickshawstop.com

 

JACKHAMMER DISCO

Juan Maclean’s DJ Kicks mix on K7! was one of the best label-released mixes of last year, showing an astute ear that managed to bend disparate elements into a pleasant happy house revival (which cannily matched the single “Happy House,” released by his band, The Juan Maclean). Drop your coat on the floor and prance around it when he headlines this winky-ravey party.

Sat/22, 10 p.m.–late, $15. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

 

DJ BUS STATION JOHN’S 50TH BIRTHDAY

“Looking back, I really believe it was fated that this music I have such a passion for — thousands of songs somehow magically encoded in these spiral grooves of black plastic 30 years ago or more — was meant to survive, to be with us another day,” says DJ Bus Station John. As was he. Now with us for half a century (that’s a lot of polish on the ol’ glory hole! Somebody drop her off at Sotheby’s for appraisal!), the old school disco-teer is still going strong, and bringing generations together. “I love the great rapport I have with the young’uns on and off the dance floor. But it’s important that guys my age and older know they are heartily welcomed at my clubs as well. After all, we lived it the first time ’round. And like my records, we are survivors, here to tell the tale. So boys, I want to see more of your wrinkly faces shining under the disco lights!” For his 50th, he’ll guest star at the weekly Honey Sundays party, playing a “special 12-inch edition” of that party, based on his much-missed marathon tea-dance, Double Dutch Disco.

Sun/23, 7 p.m.–2 a.m., $3. Holy Cow, 1535 Folsom, SF. www.honeysoundsystem.com

So dreamy

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So dreamy

Of all the indie bliss-bands to break through in the last year, Teengirl Fantasy — coming to town Sat/8 — is the dreamiest. Not just in the heart-dotted Tigerbeat vein, although TF’s spangly Angelfire website (teengirlfantasy.angelfire.com) certainly plays on giggle-driven hormone rushes.

No, Oberlin College students Logan Takahashi and Nick Weiss also meticulously tap into a subconscious slipstream of musical influences — 1990s R&B, ’70s soul, Balearic house, Windham Hill new age, bubblegum pop — that roils with allusive energy but never jolts upright into blunt nostalgia or jokey parody. The meticulously layered synth-and-sample compositions on debut album 7AM don’t lead directly to the dance floor either. Instead, they amble ecstatically down some long, spectral hallway toward a distant rave. When performing live, however, Teengirl Fantasy moves multitudes.

SFBG Are you guys still in the midst of your big tour? And did you really play the Great Wall of China?

Nick Weiss We still have one semester left of school, so we tour constantly during school breaks. We played a festival near the Great Wall in August. It was amazing — China was such a nuts place to be. Even though the government attempts to create such a restrictive environment, there are plenty of punks and people who party really out of control. One night we were taken to a Go Kart track around 1 a.m. The place where you bought your tickets was also a bar, so everyone was drunk driving!!! It ruled!!

SFBG You’ve mentioned before that one of the aims of your music is to capture a certain dreaminess or “half-asleep” sensation. There’s a rad sound art exhibition going on from L.A.’s 323 Projects right now that reminded me of you. It’s called “from one side to the other, I’ve dreamed that too.” Basically, you call this number, (323) 843-4652 from anywhere until Jan.17 and it plays an array of sound art pieces made by different people. What would you put on a Teengirl Fantasy Hotline?

Logan Takahashi My voicemail answering message is a recording of one of those Buddha Machines made by FM3. I’ve always thought that was a pretty clever idea for a product or a piece, just a bunch of simple, really pleasant infinite loops.

SFBG Speaking of dreaminess and loops, I think one of the best tracks of the year is “Dancing in Slow Motion” from 7AM. It totally reminds me of how everything sounds when you’re trying to say something in a dream and you wake yourself up — this kind of shivery mumbling. Guest singer Shannon Funchess’ sublimated diva delivery is right on.

NW We met Shannon through her Light Asylum bandmate Bruno Coviello, who coincidentally lived at the studio we were working in. However, we had already seen Light Asylum a bunch of times and knew how amazing her voice was. We wrote the song pretty quickly, but our initial impulse was to make a huge ballad, the size of The-Dream but with a dreamier twist …

SFBG: I also adore the “Dancing in Slow Motion” video, directed by Mark Brown. Between that and the “Cheaters” and “Portofino” videos, you’ve been tagged as adopting a “visualizer” aesthetic. How much input have you had with your videos and the visual manifestation of your music?  

NW: We really just choose an artist whose work we really love, give them the track, and let them do whatever they want. Working with Mark Brown, Kari Altmann, and the legendary IASOS has been so cool… we really love the videos each of them made. I wouldn’t call them pure “visualizer,” I’d say that their looks are pretty intentional rather than automated.  However maybe we just have a pretty high tolerance for rave graphix. I could watch fractals pulse to trance for hours.

LT: Honestly we never intentionally were looking for a unifying aesthetic between our videos, but it is kind of funny to go back and look at the things they have in common. I spent a lot of time watching ‘beyond the mind’s eye’ videos as a child and I think that had an effect on my threshold for abstract 3D FX.

SFBG The title of your album, 7AM is kind of an in-joke to old-school ravers, conjuring up both the kooky bombast of KLF’s “3AM Eternal” and warehouse bragging, as in “Dude, I was there at 7 a.m. when Richie Hawtin dropped ‘Pacific 707.'” Do you guys deliberately build references and concepts into your tracks beforehand, or do they come out of a more organic jamming process?

NW It really is an organic process. We won’t usually start talking about a track until after we’ve written and recorded it. Once we start mixing, we might talk references. But when we’re writing, it’s really more about capturing the live feeling and strengthening improvisations.

LT It helps for us to keep that element of viscerality and response as part of the songwriting process.

SFBG Detroit techno seems a touchstone for you …

LT Detroit!!!! Still trying to make it to the Detroit Electronic Music Festival, hopefully this year. Huge fan of the music that comes out of that city.

TEENGIRL FANTASY with Pictureplane, Tormenta Tropical, and Donuts DJs. Sat/8, 10 p.m., $5––$10. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com.

Johnny are you Weir?

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Yes. Finally ending decades of knuckle-biting speculation, ice skater Johnny Weir came out today(ish) — just in time for the release of his new book and new single! He scores a belated Lamebow Award. Watch him unveil his new song “Dirty Love” in Flint, Michigan last month if you dare.

Welcome, new Republican overlords! Please bend over

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Our fuzzy friends over at Daddyhunt.com just popped this ‘tube in our box. To welcome the incoming House majority, here’s a video countdown of their top 10 RILFs (Republicans They’d Like to … Filibuster?) — many significantly less Droopy-looking in Daddyhunt’s representation. Spank ’em redder! 

The 2010 Lamebow Awards

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The 2010 Lamebow Awards

marke@sfbg.com

I’m sorry. I was totally going to rundown all the most drag-queen-slappingiest moments of the incredibly homo-fixated year that was 2010. But then I thought, “Wait a minute! If I know so much about the gays, doesn’t that mean people will know that I’m gay? I can’t possibly come out — I don’t even have a book deal yet! Goddess damn you, Ricky Martin, for setting the bar so high. Nor do I have a book deal AND an autobiographical country record release date! Gee thanks, Chely Wright! (But also, thank you for one-upping Ms. Martin.)”

Anyway, that was a really long thought for me. So let’s just award those two a couple of nice, shiny, Degeneres-shaped 2010 Lamebows for Best Commercial Coming Out and move on. I’m queer, I’m here, I don’t have an agent, oh well. Speaking of commercial outings, let’s lob a Lamebow, too, at Richard Chamberlain, who helped pioneer the apparently lucrative form in 2003 with his autobiography Shattered Love (!). In December, he warned famous actors to stay in the closet because of persistent Hollywood homophobia. Way to monopolize, Dicky! Also: did you know that the most flamboyant cast member of Will and Grace is light and loafy? Shocking. A Lamebow to you, Sean Hayes, for coming out this year and finally putting our frantic speculation to rest at last.

The year 2010 was also when we learned that it only took six horrific teen suicides being reported in one month to remind old gay people that there are young gay people, and that being a young gay person is pretty damn tough. I have no idea how old gay people forgot this, considering several of them must have been young once, but I suspect something involving tiny dogs and/or tribal tattoos. Our major response to deadly homophobic bullying? Just deal with it, twerps. Sure, the “It Gets Better” campaign was wonderful as a high school survivor support group, a risk-free youth outreach effort, and proof that us olds knew how to work the YouTube. But the underlying message — “Don’t bother trying to change the world. One day you can move somewhere you’ll feel normal like us!” — was awfully regressive. We didn’t even have to leave the comfort of the Internet to feel like we did a little something. Shoulder pat! Still, like the obituaries, it was a rare chance to hear non-celebrity gay people’s personal stories, so there’s that.

Finally, a big, sparkly Lamebow must be parachuted in to the numbskulls who thought repealing “don’t ask, don’t tell” was such a splendid idea. Yes, I feel sorry for people who have to lie to serve. And I’m not pissed off because now my hot gay ass can get drafted. I love Canada, it’s full of bears. No, I’m pissed because the successful repeal has probably ruined gay military porn forever. Look, there’s a very good reason why no porn is set in foofy gay bars with a tranny lipsyncing Lady Gaga in the background. Gays only like gay porn that has next to zero possibility of actual gay-acting people appearing in it. Now I have to worry that I’ll pop in my copy of Assghanistan: Taking Kabul by the Horns or Packin’ Stan: Assghanistan II and some Mary in fatigues will prance out a Katy Perry number with her bunkmates, sigh. Thanks a lot, America.

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