Saturday, January 8, 2011

Leaving later than planned, Tristan, Andrew, and Andrew arrive at the courts at Almaden Lake Park in San Jose at sunset and are met with harsh words from the ranger closing the park for the night.

I misremembered the location, name, and actual character of the venue in San Francisco that was hosting the book release of my friend Sam’s so-called “fanzine” for the skateboard culture periodical THRASHER.  This of course was a humble way of describing the high concept Duchampian streams of thought that no doubt went into the conversations with collaborator Israel Lundi and the forty-odd page black and white photocopies of the highlights of their respective collections of the magazine.  By the time we got there—after a brief attempt to play bocce ball in San Jose, trying to find the place and park simultaneously in the general area where I recalled it being, calling Tristan’s mom who had internet access, calling Sam who was outside the venue smoking a cigarette but who could not describe anything beyond the character of the alleyway, finding the building, and attending another event for ten minutes or so on the wrong floor devoted to bondage-related sculpture and polaroids—the event had dwindled to what appeared to be its close.  Tristan was dressed for the wilderness, from his floppy hat down to his boots, and Andrew was frazzled by the event downstairs, but I was happy to see Sam and proud to see him travelling for a book release like a big shot, but one who deserved it.  

               
A charming duo was asked to perform for what was apparently the second time and I was quite impressed by the successful incorporation of a fire false alarm into the rhythm of a song.  We said we’d see Sam in Portland when we passed through, congratulated him and complemented the Japanese half of the duo who was smoking pot with two girls outside on the way back to the truck.  

Tristan’s brother Tyler was kind enough to host us on the other side of the bay and Andrew cooked a noodle feast to thank him and his roommates for the hospitality.  We shopped for groceries at a Whole Foods and I bought a bag of spinach among other things that I ate while they checked out.  I ate the spinach and talked to an older man about the marxist traditions of the Salinas Valley, and its biggest proponents of social justice in Cesar Chavez and John Steinbeck.   This conversation seemed natural and logical in the Whole Foods in Berkeley.

After dinner we watched several installments of the Japanese cooking program Cooking with Dog on youtube. Tyler insisted on sharing it for the incredible effect the culinary virtuosity of the woman—non-dog half of the show—had paired with the absurdity of having a terrier sitting next to her on the counter with an overdubbed male voice describing the procedure, giving the effect that it was the dog who was narrating.  

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January 8, 2011, 5 pm - 8 pm
@ SF Cameraworks, 657 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA

Lawrence Rinder launches TULEYOME; Israel Lund, Sam Korman, and Colter Jacobsen launch THRASHER FANZINE

Lawrence Rinder launches a new fiction, with photographs by Colter Jacobsen, Tuleyome; Israel Lund and Sam Korman launch Thrasher Fanzine; with live music by Coconuts. There is a suggested donation at the door, but all are welcome regardless.

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Basho traveled.  He, as far as his audience is concerned, transformed these travels into poetry.  On one level he bisected beauty with his own subjectivity, concentrated his ego into the singular perception of nature; on another level he took this singularity and put the natural encounter into verse; and he left this poem for his hosts; or he interacted with peers and composed with them a linked analysis of a poetic apprehension.  It is now hundreds of years later.

THE MUPPETS TAKE MANHATTAN

And there he stood, blushing a kind of reddish green, the president of the senior class and author of "Manhattan Melodies"—Kermit the Frog. "Way to go kermit!" and "What a frog!" his classmates called out to him over thunderous applause.  Kermit was overcome.  It felt wonderful to have an audience clapping for the show he was so proud of.  "See you on Broadway," yelled someone in the audience.  Kermit laughed at the thought.  Then he bowed one last time and ducked back into the wings.

"Why not?" Scooter asked the others backstage.  "Why don't we put the show on Broadway?"

Miss Piggy, who was still swooning with happiness at seeing her adored Kermy taking his bows, suddenly woke up.  "Broadway!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up like giant searchlights.  "Moi can see it already!"

"Yeah!" agreed Fozzie. "Broadway must be dying to get a show like this."

"Broadway! Broadway!" chanted Animal, the wild-eyed drummer of the Electric Mayhem Band. 

"But the show isn't good enough for Broadway," said Kermit.

"Not good enough!" chorused the others. "It's more than good enough.  It's great!"

"It's a tempting idea," said Kermit. "But we have to think about our plans for the future."  

And then Fozzie had a brilliant idea.  "So I guess if we don't go to Broadway, we just have to..." He paused, looking as forlorn as a bear can look. "...we just have to say goodbye to one another." He waited for the words to sink in.

Kermit looked around at each of his friends.  The thought of the gang breaking up and heading off in different directions was painful.  No one spoke, and Fozzie held his breath.  "Well!" Kermit said at last. "What are we waiting for?  We're going to Broadway!"

Before anyone had time to say "Are you sure?" or "Maybe we shouldn't rush into this" or "Help!" the gang was there, gazing in awe at the famous Manhattan skyline.  Right in front of their very noses was the Empire State Building, as pretty as a picture—it was a picture!  It hung on the wall of the not very clean bus terminal that was the only part of Manhattan they had seen so far.

The terminal wasn't much, but it was home.  They decided to stay in their lockers that night, even if the lockers weren't exactly first-class accommodations. "More like twenty-first class," said Fozzie.  "Right up there with park benches."

"But it's just for one night," said Piggy.  "Because we'll all be Broadway stars tomorrow."

"No problem," said Gonzo, whose personal habits have often been described as "unusual" and even more often as "really, really weird." "This is much better than the file cabinet I used to live in."

"Squawk," agreed Camilla, and everyone else settled down to sleep.