Something Tangible After a Bit of a Break

I've been thinking . . .

Yes, this little blog has been moribund for nearly two years; but I have something nostalgic to share and not all of my friends of the last 10 or 30 or 50 years are on the proper social media websites. Hence a mild resurrection of my blog for this bit of personal remembrance.

It seems I have a quilt.

 this is the 1997 side

and this the 2018 side

Of course there is a story (or three).

Back in about 1997, a good friend [Janet] offered to make a quilt for me. She wanted it to be personalized, so I dipped into my t-shirt drawer and came up with half a dozen or so culturally significant cotton visuals.

For instance: 

this is the oldest image on the quilt, from my 1980 excursion to Antarctica

This whimsical logo sets the quilt images into a particular segment of my life. I was departing L.A. in 1991 and heading down a new path in San Francisco. Leaving my partnership in a mortgage firm and a somewhat typical Southern California lifestyle for a Ph.D. program at the California Institute of Integral Studies in Haight-Ashbury. With this shirt, two of my dear friends, Bruce & Faith, summed up the South vs. North feelings among my friends about my pending transition.

I knew not a soul in San Francisco, but uprooting was and continues to be a signature move in my wanderings. Still, leaving Hermosa Beach wasn't without deep rumblings of emotion and loss. My best friend and business partner, dear Tom, had disappeared far too soon from all of our lives. We had both developed plans for what was to be next for us, mine was to be a doctoral program, Tom's future was cut tragically short.

In the summer of '89, Tom & I plotted a month-long roadtrip and invited family and friends to join us for bits & pieces of the chautauqua. A gang of Carl, Deanna, Gary and his parents joined us for Yellowstone and some local color around the Schorzman homegrounds in Idaho.

Leap ahead several years, this naughty (look close) knot artwork comes from my friend [Tina], life in San Francisco had become transformational.
That was the plan afterall.

One of the highlights of my time at CIIS was a 1997 excursion to Indonesia, specifically Bali. My friend and professor, Daniel and his partner Fariba led a group of spirtual adventurers into three weeks of Balinese immersion. Note the masques.

Friends from the L.A. days, if the colors of the quilting thus far seems evocative, tis perhaps because the pinks and greens are made from leftover pieces of the cloths we used in Tom's AIDS quilt panel.

lower left

Now on the to 2018 flip side. I gave Mo, another new friend, a whole mess of chopped up t-shirts and left it to her artistic sense to cast the imagery for side two of the quilt.

I found her edging (non-quilter terminology) to be fascinating; all of the bits and snips woven around the splashes of t-shirt memories.

Interesting, the Indonesia masque t-shirt on the '90s side and this one many years later. You see this painting of me was done by a street artist in Ubud, Bali on that same trip. A much longer story about the masque and dance that went with it, but the shirt was with me for twenty years before it too found its way onto the other side quilt.

Another enduring feature of my time in grad school at CIIS ('91-'99) was the annual conference of the Society for the Anthropology of Consciousness. Life long friends were met and remet at these yearly gatherings, t-shirts often reflected the ongoing happenings at those meetings. Strange though they may have been.

The artist of many of these images was and is the previously mentioned Tina, now a successful professor and still a wonderful artist.

this one should wrinkle a few in time

My friend Scott gave an amazing presentation at this meeting. Seems like a lot of mushrooms . . .

 and then there are the deep flashbacks, the shirt was obtained at one of the many reunions we have attended but the years actually at K College were 1965-69.

Weed, California: I have been visiting long, long, long time dear friends Gary & Cyndi there for three decades. They and their blissful place with a full compliment of critters both wild and semi-tame.

The 2018 side of the quilt was commissioned while I was residing in a solitary aerie in Berkeley (2010-2015), the room with the magnificent view of the San Francisco Bay and the beyond belief landlady.

What more can I say.
You know what that's like, right?

p.s. it's a big quilt, room enough for two

A Long and Winding Road

With apologies to my several New Mexico, desert and Los Angeles friends, I got road weary and certain pressing personal items beckoned to me for an early return to Berkeley. I'm back in the Bay Area. Holiday order placed with Whole Foods. Friends here to be visited and many, many, so many words to write.

Many thanks to those who put me up in places all over the Midwest, South and Southwest. Purrs and pets to all the felines who welcomed me, official pictorial recognition is coming.

Again, apologies to my missed friends, hope to see you all soon.

Total trip Sept. 8 to Dec. 15th - 6700 miles

photo credit: National Geographic

Penn State vs. Cal

Getting a college education should be about expanding your view of the world; about obtaining facts and opinions different from your own and thinking critically on those new ideas. So I have a reading and writing assignment for students at Penn State University and the University of California at Berkeley.

First for those Penn State students who participated in the riot Wednesday night in College Station. Here is a link to the Grand Jury Report on Jerry Sandusky, your former Penn football coach. Your assignment is to read it, all of it and then write a letter of apology to the Penn State Board of Trustees. Last night you lashed out with anger and the destruction of property in support of a rapist, a pedophile and those who kept silent when they knew of this monster's crimes against children. 

You should be ashamed.

Next, for the students are UC Berkeley who were peacefully protesting at that same hour and were attacked by elements of the UCB police force and the Alameda County Sheriffs Department. Your reading assignment is this report on the May 4th (1970) Shootings at Kent State University. Part of your university education should be history in context, what you did yesterday, what you will continue to do today and tomorrow is going to bring a response from the establishment. The response is likely to be violent and therefore not under anyone's control on-campus or off.

I applaud your zeal, I stand with you. I was there yesterday and will be back today, but I do not intend to sacrifice my health or my life to the armed minions of the 1%. I want you to be informed of exactly what it is you may face during the Occupy protests. Please read the Kent State report and be prepared.

For everyone else - Remember Allison Krause, William Schroeder, Sandy Schreuer and Jeffrey Miller.

Four Dead in Ohio - May 4th, 1970.

Seeking SWF with Big Lens

I have been seeking that someone special for a very long time. Most recently I have updated my "needs list" to include a woman who has a good camera with a big telephoto lens. You see I have this really big view and I just can't capture it with my really tiny instrument...

What do I have to offer? In no particular order: big bed, big stories, big brain and this really big view.

On a clear day - the Bay Bridge and San Francisco.

Bay Area weather is nothing if not changeable.

and since we view is due West . . .

Among other things, the woman of my dreams should possess: photoshop and a enormous level of acceptance of over-the-top metaphors.

I would also add that I am about to embark on another of my periodic road trips. This one begins in two weeks and will last a bit over two months. More on that later, including my big reveal on my new approach to online dating, which I will implement upon my return to the Bay area later this fall.

Tomorrow - the writing that led to this week's focus on relationships.

A Nearby Earthquake

A small earthquake occurred in Berkeley yesterday, according to the U.S. Geological Survey. The 2.0-magnitude quake happened at 10:37 a.m. and was centered near Panoramic Way, just southeast of Memorial Stadium on the University of California at Berkeley campus.

I can verify that report. The epicenter was only a mile away and I am up on the 8th floor. It was nowhere near the biggest jolt I have experienced; it wasn't even as moving as the one last month on the other side of the Bay. And nothing like a couple of big temblors in the middle of the night when I lived in L.A. in the early 80s.

I missed the Loma Prieta earthquake here in the Bay Area in 1989, I was living in L.A. at the time. I also missed the Northridge quake in L.A. in 1994, I was living in San Francisco then. Apparently the earth does not move when I am around, at least not big time moves.

Yes, over 400 earthquakes in California in the past week.

Walgreen Story

On the way into the pharmacy the other day I overheard a snippet of conversation between (actor #1) the gentleman with the red bucket, collecting for I know not what charity and (actor #2) the somewhat loud talking lady on crutches. As I passed them I observed the lady was missing one leg just below the knee; the conversation went like this:

"My son gets out of prison next week."

"Parole or release."

"Oh definitely parole to a halfway house in Oakland."

"How many years he do?"

"They gave him twenty but let him out in twelve, he should never have done a day."

"What for?"

"He got the man who did this to me." She pointed at her missing leg.

When I came out of the store, the lady was gone but as I passed the man he spoke to me:

"You heard the story bout her son."

"I did."

"Ain't true."

I stopped, knowing this would be worth the time.

"I knew her back when see lost that leg from too many infections."

"Needles?"

"Yup, and she ain't got no son either. Leastwise not one that gettin' out of prison; her only child died from the same crap that took her leg."

"Sad story."

"Well nobody makes you put that poison in your body."

"No I guess not."

I dropped five bucks in his red bucket for the story and headed to my car with my physician prescribed narcotics in the clean, white pharmacy bag with the tax receipt attached.

--

Art: Decision Time by americanpsycho

Coming Home?

Home - 1. a house, apartment or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family or household.

             2. the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.

In one sense I am coming home today, that would be the the sense expressed in the first definition above. If any place can be called my usual residence in the past several years, then the Berkeley apartment qualifies. Today after 112 days of remodeling, I am moving back in. Pictures to follow soon.

Domestic affections is another thing entirely. I don't really know if I simply no longer feel such emotions or just currently have no interest in that direction. Semi-nomadic feels comfortable and not at all foreign as I had anticipated. This gives me something to ponder as I place my minimalist domestic stuff in the renewed space high up in the low clouds of Berkeley.

Remember Coming Home (Fonda, Voight, Dern) one of the first two major films that took on the subject of the Vietnam War. They both came out in 1978, less than three years after the U.S. exit from Vietnam; the other film was The Deer Hunter (DeNiro, Walken, Streep). The picture below is the one most remember from Coming Home, Fonda and the crippled veteran she falls in love with Jon Voight. The picture at the top is of Fonda and Bruce Dern, her husband; the other factor in the film's equation. I much preferred The Deer Hunter but no one would have got the reference if I titled this post - Searching for Bambi? 


Nevermind, nothing to see here, move along.

And yes the apartment is nearly 100% new, so what am I bitchin' about?

A Disappointing Anniversary

I'm annoyed today. It will pass but today I am annoyed. You see it was a full year ago that I moved into the Berkeley co-op apartment with the truly spectacular view. True the decor left something to be desired but I have low expectations in those areas. There was much debate about remodeling, I was against it. My position was - you don't put money into the place until you are ready to sell. But my voice was advisory only, I did not have a vote.

Then in the late fall a decision was made to move ahead with a complete top-to-bottom remodel. I moved everything out and vacated the space on December 8th. The completion deadline was spoken of as being "the end of the year," now I have enough real estate experience to know that any date a contractor gives you should be multiplied by at least a factor of two. So I expected perhaps late January and would have been only mildly surprised by a February return date.

Well today is the one year anniversary of moving into the apartment and now over three months since I moved out and as you might guess I am not back in yet and expect it will minimally be another week or two even three before I do get back in and even then I expect there will be half a dozen pick-up items that won't be done and will take several more weeks or even months to finish.


Grumble. Mumble. Like a frustrated cheetah when the antelope gets away.

I'm annoyed today. It will pass.

Remodel and Renewal in the Void of Time

On December 8th I moved out of the Berkeley apartment and deconstruction began. I know it started then, I barely escaped with my backpack intact. By Dec. 11th there had been even more destruction. The kitchen was gone, the doorway to the sunroom was demolished, what passed for carpet was torn up and shipped out, all appliances were history, parts of the ceiling were down.


Then I left for points north with promises of work and reconstruction but I knew, as we all know, that lingering just into the foggy future was that Bermuda Triangle of the contractor universe, that which sucks up days and weeks of time in world where progress is measured in fanciful delays of material and elaborate excuses emanating from unseen third parties.


Now in early February, just a few short days ago, I witnessed with yea these two eyes of mine the first installation of new kitchen cabinets. There was new tile and new lighting in the bath. I viewed an order for new hardwood flooring complete with a "guaranteed" delivery date and I received governmental paperwork of asbestos ceiling detritus environmentally disposed of. Granite hath been ordered for counter-tops, delays are awaited on this item. The painting maestro is prepared to begin tomorrow with much debated but now imprimatured hues.


The new finish deadline is set at February 15th, I expect February is probably right.

Home or Something Like It

For about five years now I have refrained from using the word "home" to describe any of the places I have rested my head. I lived at 'Bill's Place' in Las Vegas ('06-'07) and then at 'the condo' ('08) also in Vegas. I literally was undomiciled for fourteen months ('09-'10) while traveling about the country and since March I have lived in the 'Berkeley apartment.' Ann Arbor ('00-'06) was probably that last time I recognized a place as home.

I am not actually adverse to finding a new home and certainly I have no problem calling the SF Bay region home, I lived here from '90 to '00 quite happily. I settle fairly easily into any place that can reasonably replicate a cave, but nothing has felt like home for awhile.

This comes up today because I have returned to the Bay area after fifty days in the Mt. Shasta/Weed/Lake Shastina environs of north-central California. I am not back in the Berkeley apartment yet, the slow pace of remodeling there still crawls forward. So I am in the City staying with yet another seemingly willing friend, I surmise I remain an entertaining interlude in the spare room.

In the next few days I will visit the apartment and assess the likelihood of re-occupancy in the relatively near future or thereabouts. But the search for 'home' continues.

What's In a Name?

Off and on for the last couple of month's I have written quite a bit about my new place -- The Apartment I called it. Most of the words I have written recently had to with the view. Now that summer is in full swing the the sun has reversed course heading back south towards the Golden Gate and the fogs of San Francisco are around most days. So my view gets lots of natural variation. Today I wish to muse about what I call this place in Berkeley. I really thought The Apartment worked just fine with no references to the Billy Wilder, Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine academy award winning film of the same name.

But last week, someone who really knows The Apartment referred to it as The View and that got me thinking. The Eyrie came immediately to mind but that was just way too precious, it led to Roost and Perch, Promotory and Massif which allowed Amy to wonder if caves ever came with views. I growled at that suggestion, briefly considered Grizzly Peak and put the whole idea aside until last night when I wrote this line in a story -- "he lived life with a glimpse and a glance."

Seems as if there must be some ocularly infused eponym that is just right, not too hot, not too cold. So I am open to suggestions, a prize for a winning linguistic turn.

Until then, I am signing off from The Apartment - the one with The View and this my 100th blog post of 2010.

Telegraph Avenue

I have lived in several university towns and spent a fair amount of time in many others: Ann Arbor, Madison, Cambridge, Austin, Westwood, Berkeley. While they all show the liberal influence of the ivy covered walls, they are all somewhat unique. Most influence neighborhoods they share, others dominate the entire city. And then there is the People's Republic of Berkeley.

Such a mixture of liberal/radical politics existing right alongside fantabulous contradictions. For a place of peace, freedom and social justice there are a lot of regulations. Mostly these are seen as "for the people" and against the establishment but rules are rules and are therefore necessarily anti-freedom. But politics and bureaucracy are not my topics today. Telegraph Avenue is.

Telegraph Ave. is less than 5 miles long. It runs from downtown Oakland north-north-east to the south entrance of the UC Berkeley campus at Sather Gate, which then spills directly into Sproul Plaza where "those" protests took place in the 60's. But when most of us hear Telegraph Avenue, we think of the last four blocks at the UCB end of Telegraph, where you can still buy beads, candles, radical bumper-stickers and incense. I live about five minutes from this stretch of Telegraph, so I know the restaurants and other necessary establishments there, yes olde friends I live within walking distance of Tienda Ho.

Early last week, I was up on Telegraph running errands, I hit the post office, grabbed a sandwich at Cafe Mattina and was looking for a place to make my seasonal lottery purchase. After casually keeping my eye out for a lottery sign, I realized that in the mecca of anti-establishmentarianism there was not going to be a retailer who would alienate the local clientele by trading in such a income discriminatory hidden tax. I think I must have been smiling even more broadly as I turned off Telegraph to head back to the apartment. I rounded the last corner stepping slightly around a well dressed young woman, who I noted was a bit out of place on the lingering hippy sidewalks of Telegraph when I heard her whisper;

"Date?"


There it was, in the heartland of free love, a Tuesday afternoon solicitation. I wish I had not simply strolled on. I would like to know more about prostitution on Telegraph Ave. Think I could have gotten five minutes of conversation for what? maybe twenty bucks?

The times they are achangin'.

May Day: Berkeley

May Day in Berkeley 2010 was a disappointment. Yes, there was the requisite amount of Arizona immigration bashing and leaflet handing out and random activist literature tables but this is the Worker's Day. Where were the socialists? Where were the downtrodden? The unions? The huddled masses were drinking mocha lattes.

The most prominent early morning promotion was for the "family friendly" May Day picnic and that was over in Dolores Park in San Francisco. This is not your parent's Berkeley. There is more concern these days about reversing the decades of traffic calming measures (that's blocked off neighborhood streets for those who have not experienced the radical traffic patterns of Berkeley). And lest we forget, we need to be ever watchful of asbestos ceilings and old lead paint.

Perhaps I was just having an olde leftie day and expected more from the former nexus of all things radical. Or maybe I was looking for the other meaning of May Day.

Earth Day

Forty years ago, the first Earth Day (1970) was small, peaceful, non-commercial and did I say small? I spent part of Earth Day #1 on the diag of the University of Michigan campus in Ann Arbor; today, I will send part of Earth Day #40 on Sproul Plaza on the UC Berkeley campus. What I remember most about that first ED (my how abbreviations have shifted meanings), what I remember was the number of teach-ins. Teach-Ins were a product of the Vietnam War protest era. Rather than sit-in or be-in or trash-in; faculty and others on campuses around the world would hold teach-ins to present in-depth points of view on issues that might not normally be part of the present day university curriculum.

Even back in 1970, wind and solar power were being pushed as alternatives to petro-chemical fuels before the Arab Oil Embargo of 1973 or the Iranian Oil Crisis of 1979. Recycling was a novelty in 1970, the Boy Scouts picked up newspapers but that was about it. But like today there were resources, here are some I came across this morning.

Earth Day official website, where you can learn about the big rally this Sunday in Washington D.C. and see how far we have come both in saving and destroying the planet.

Earth Day as big business, an article from today's New York Times.

Earth Day Around the World Part I.

Teachable Earth Day moments from EducationWorld.com.

and one of two YouTube offerings for Earth Day 2010.

Insert hopeful inspiring phrase here.

Out My Window

Images from week one in the new apartment. Again I promise from this point on, only utterly spectacular shots or anything a visiting telephoto lens might capture.

The daylight shots really don't do the reality justice. The view of San Francisco is overwhelmingly distracting.

You can click on any of these for a truly spectacular view.
---

photo credits: me