The Gun in his Pocket (El arma en su bolsillo) 彼のポケットの銃

It starts with that incomparable polenta at Zuni yesterday, and my lovely lunch companions, Kiri Henderson and Rhonda Rubinstein. Kiri is the smart young publisher of TODO , a hip monthly guide to San Francisco. The design of the tiny magazine is exquisite, courtesy of the gifted Rhonda, with whom I worked on BIG_54 (San Francisco) a couple years back.

Trust me, TODO is a startup that is going places. It is already in taxis, hotels, cafes, but surprisingly, half of its readers are not tourists, but locals. It's got attitude. How can you not love a guide that uses as one its lines: "TODO, keep it in your pants."

It's gotten into mine.

Then, there is Weekend Sherpa , a free email newsletter, also brilliantly designed. It is the brainchild of another young entrepreneur, Brad Day, recently of San Francisco Magazine.

It's a snappily written service that helps you plan your weekend outings in the Bay Area. Even if you don't plan on going anywhere, it's fun reading when it lands in your inbox every Thursday morning. Brad's partner is my old friend Holly Kulak, which is how I found out about the pending launch of Weekend Sherpa several months back.

I expect this exciting startup to be a success also.

***

As long as I have lived in San Francisco, I've been involved, one way or another, with media startups. I came here originally to help launch SunDance Magazine in the early '70s. Many failed startups later, I landed at Rolling Stone, which was headquartered at 625 Third Street.

When Jann Wenner took his act to New York, I helped found the Center for Investigative Reporting .

Not long afterward, a group of entrepreneurs approached me with a prospectus for a magazine called Bread and Roses. That one turned into Mother Jones by launch time.

I was an editor at Mother Jones in the early '90s when Wired Magazine won its first National Magazine Award. Though I didn't know anyone there, and I'd not yet visited their offices in the 500 block of Third Street, I was proud that another San Francisco startup had won the Pulitzer of magazine awards, so I faxed them a congratulatory message.

They probably wondered who the hell I was.

As these things go, I was part of the Wired story myself by late 1995, though on the web side.

There are so many other projects I've been part of, at least marginally. I've always felt there's room for all of them here, in this town. This is a town of creative people who, as Kiri so accurately put it yesterday, "don't fit in anywhere else."

***

The main thing about today is that this is the day my oldest son, Peter Weir, moved out. He loaded his car up with all his stuff and drove to his new home in Pasadena, on the campus of Cal Tech.

This house doesn't feel the same tonight. Although Peter almost always came home long after I was asleep, I liked leaving the lights on for him. It was nice having him here, seeing how his (adult) mind works. In about five and a half years, he'll be Dr. Weir. I look forward to that day.

Many other things came and went today. Aidan's team won their soccer game under a blue sky and Indian Summer weather. The boys went to a swimming party. My date and I went to a movie. I love it when the person I take to a movie laughs out loud. This girl had fun tonight. Here she is, trying to measure up.

Michigan obliterated Notre Dame. The Giants lost again, however. I've gotta get up early and coach little league baseball out on Treasure Island; then go to a season-ending picnic with my softball team, the Michigan Mafia.

That was a startup once upon a time as well. The time was 1978.

But that is another story.

***

One sadness today was discovering that our pumpkin vine dropped its most promising gourd prematurely. There are a few swollen blooms under yellow flowers still, but I wonder whether this big, aggressive pumpkin plant is thinking about keeping his gun in his pants this time around.



-30-

Comencemos el excedente que polenta incomparable en Zuni ayer, y mis compañeros del almuerzo, Kiri Henderson y Rhonda encantadores Rubinstein. Kiri es el editor joven elegante de TODO, guía mensual de la cadera a San Francisco. El diseño del compartimiento minúsculo es exquisito, cortesía del Rhonda dotado, con quien trabajé en BIG_54 (San Francisco) una parte posteriora de años de los pares.

Confiarme en, TODO es un arranque que es lugares que van. Está ya en los taxis, hoteles, cafés, pero asombrosamente, la mitad de sus lectores es no turistas, sino locals. Tiene actitud. Cómo puedes no amar una guía que utilice como una sus líneas: “TODO, la mantienen tus pantalones.”

Ha conseguido en la mía.

Entonces, hay fin de semana Sherpa, un boletín de noticias libre del email, también diseñado brillante. Es el brainchild de otro empresario joven, día del alfilerillo, recientemente del compartimiento de San Francisco.

Es un servicio snappily escrito que las ayudas tú planean tus excursiones del fin de semana en el área de la bahía. Aunque no planeas en ir dondequiera, él eres lectura de la diversión cuando aterriza en tu inbox cada mañana de jueves. El socio del alfilerillo es mi viejo acebo Kulak del amigo, que es cómo descubrí sobre el lanzamiento pendiente del fin de semana Sherpa varios meses traseros.

Espero que este arranque emocionante sea un éxito también.

***

Mientras haya vivido en San Francisco, he estado implicado, una forma u otra, con arranques de los medios. Vine aquí originalmente ayudar a lanzar el compartimiento de SunDance en los años 70 tempranos. Muchos fallaron arranques más adelante, yo aterrizaron en la piedra del balanceo, que fue establecida jefatura en la tercera calle 625.

Cuando Jann Wenner llevó su acto Nueva York, ayudé encontré el centro para la divulgación investigadora.

No desear luego, un grupo de empresarios me acercó con un prospecto para un compartimiento llamado Bread y las rosas. Aquél dio vuelta en la madre Jones por tiempo del lanzamiento.

Era redactor en la madre Jones en los años 90 tempranos en que el compartimiento atado con alambre ganó su primera concesión nacional del compartimiento. Aunque no sabía cualquier persona allí, y todavía no visitado sus oficinas en el bloque 500 de la tercera calle, era orgulloso que otro arranque de San Francisco había ganado a Pulitzer de las concesiones del compartimiento, así que os envié por telefax un mensaje congratulatory.

Se preguntaban probablemente quiénes era el infierno yo.

Pues van estas cosas, era parte de la historia atada con alambre mismo por finales de 1995, aunque en el lado de la tela.

Hay así que muchos otros proyectos que he sido parte de, por lo menos marginal. Me he sentido siempre que hay sitio para todos aquí, en esta ciudad. Esto es una ciudad de la gente creativa a que, como Kiri la puso tan exactamente ayer, “no caber adentro en cualquier otro lugar.”

***

La cosa principal es alrededor hoy que éste es el día mi más viejo hijo, vertedero de Peter, movido hacia fuera. Él cargó su coche para arriba con toda su materia y condujo a su nuevo hogar en Pasadena, en el campus de la tecnología de la caloría.

Esta casa no siente igual esta noche. Aunque vino Peter casi siempre a casa de largo después de que estuviera dormido, tuve gusto de dejar las luces encendido para él. Era agradable teniéndolo aquí, viendo cómo su mente (del adulto) trabaja. Por la mitad cerca de cinco y los años, él será el Dr. Weir. Miro adelante a ese día.

Muchas otras cosas vinieron y fueron hoy. El equipo de Aidan ganó su juego del fútbol bajo un cielo azul y tiempo del verano indio. Los muchachos fueron a un partido de la natación. Mi fecha y yo fuimos a una película. La amo cuando la persona que llevo a las risas de una película hacia fuera ruidosamente. Esta muchacha tenía diversión esta noche. Hay una foto de su tapa ascendente, intentando medir para arriba.

Notre Dame borrada Michigan. Los gigantes perdieron otra vez, sin embargo. Tengo que levantarme temprano y entrenar pequeño béisbol de la liga hacia fuera en la isla del tesoro; entonces ir a una comida campestre del estación-conclusión con mi equipo del beísbol con pelota blanda, la mafia de Michigan.

Eso era un arranque érase una vez también. El tiempo era 1978.

Pero ésa es otra historia.

***

La tristeza descubría hoy que nuestra vid de la calabaza cayó su calabaza más prometedora prematuramente. Todavía hay algunas floraciones hinchadas debajo de las flores amarillas, pero me pregunto si esta planta grande, agresiva de la calabaza está pensando de mantener su arma sus pantalones este vez alrededor.

___________

昨日Zuniの無類のpolenta、および私の美しい昼食の友達、Kiri HendersonおよびRhonda Rubinstein余分を始めよう。 KiriはTODOのスマートで若い出版業者、サンフランシスコへの情報通の月例ガイドである。 小さい雑誌の設計は絶妙、私がBIG_54 (サンフランシスコ)にカップル年取り組んだ才能豊かなRhondaの礼儀である。 私を、TODOある行く場所である開始が信頼しなさい。 それはタクシー、ホテル、喫茶店に既にあるが、意外にも、読者の半分はないツーリスト、地元の人でありではない。 それは態度を持っている。 1つとしてラインを使用するガイドをいかに愛しないことができるか: 「TODOあなたのズボンで、保つそれを」。は それは私の物に入った。 そして、週末Sherpaの鮮やかに設計されている自由な電子メールの時事通信が、またある。 それはもう一人の若い企業家の考え、サンフランシスコの雑誌の貝折れ釘日、最近である。 助けが湾区域のあなたの週末の遠出を計画するのはてきぱきと文書によるサービスである。 どこでも行くことで計画しなくても、それは木曜日のあらゆる朝あなたのinboxで上陸するとき楽しみの読書である。 貝折れ釘のパートナーは私が数月週末Sherpaの未決の進水について背部いかに調べたかの私の旧友のヒイラギKulakである。 私は成功であるとこの刺激的な開始がまた期待する。 *** 私がサンフランシスコに住んでいた限り、私は媒体の開始に、何とかして、かかわった。 私は早い70年代のSunDanceの雑誌の進水を助けることを最初にここに来た。 後で多くの壊れる開始、私は625第3通りで本部に置かれた圧延の石で上陸した。 Jann Wennerがニューヨークに彼の行為を取ったときに、私は見つけた調査記事のための中心を助けた。 長くないその後、企業家のグループはBreadおよびばらと呼ばれた雑誌のための説明書との私に近づいた。 そのは開始時間までに母ジョーンズに回った。 私はワイヤーで縛られた雑誌が最初国民の雑誌賞を獲得した早い90年代の母ジョーンズに編集者だった。 私がだれでもそこに知らなかった、および私がまだ第3通りの500ブロックのオフィス訪問されなくてけれども、私はサンフランシスコの別の開始が雑誌賞のピューリッツァーに勝った、従って私がそれらに祝いのメッセージをファックスしたこと自慢していた。 彼らはおそらく私がだったかだれ疑問に思った。 これらの事が行くので、私はワイヤーで縛られた物語の部分自分自身網の側面の遅い1995年までに、しかし行った。 従って私がの他の多くのプロジェクト、少なくとも限界近くの部分ある。 私はすべてのためのここに部屋がこの町に、あることを常に感じた。 これはKiriがそう正確にそれを昨日置いたように、「」。どこか他の所に合ってはいけない創造的な人々の町である *** 主な事柄は約今日、動くピーターのダムこれが日私の長男であることである。 彼はすべての彼の原料と彼の車に荷を積み、calの技術のキャンパスのパサデナの彼の新しい家に、運転した。 この家は同じを今夜感じない。 私が眠っていた後ピーターがほとんどの場合家に長く来たが、私は彼のためのライトを残すことを好んだ。 それはここに素晴らしく彼を、彼の(大人の)心がいかに働くか見る持ち。 約5および年半分のでは、彼は先生であるWeir。 私はその日に先に見る。 他の多くの事は今日来ては去って行いた。 Aidanのチームは青空およびインド夏の天候の下でサッカーゲームに勝った。 男の子は水泳党に行った。 私の日付および私は映画に行った。 私は私が映画笑いに大声で連れて行く人時それを愛する。 この女の子は楽しい時を今夜過した。 見合うことを試みる彼女の上りの上の写真がある。 ミシガン州はNotre Dameを抹消した。 しかし巨人は、再度失った。 私は早く起き、宝物島の小さいリーグ野球をコーチするなる; それから私のソフトボールのチーム、ミシガン州のマフィアとの季節終りのピクニックに行きなさい。 それは昔々また開始だった。 時間は1978年だった。 しかしそれはもう一つの物語である。 *** 1悲しさは今日私達のカボチャツルが最も有望なひょうたんを時期早尚に落としたことを発見していた。 黄色い花の下に今でも少数の膨張した花があるが、この大きく、積極的なカボチャ植物が彼のズボンで彼の銃を保つことについて今回考えているかどうか私は疑問に思う。 -30-
_____________

No posting of mine could ever be complete without bringing it all back home to the mother tongue, courtesy of our automated English-Japanese-English translation service. This one is priceless:

Inimitable polenta of yesterday Zuni, and the friend of lunch where I am beautiful, Kiri Henderson and the Rhonda Rubinstein excess will be begun. Kiri of young publisher TODO, the information to San Francisco monthly guide. The design of the small magazine exquisiteness, me BIG_54 (San Francisco) couple year is courtesy of the talent rich Rhonda which is tackled. TODO is start of the place where it goes. That the taxi, the hotel, already is in the coffeehouse, but even unexpectedly, it is the tourist and the person of local end is not half of the reader and is not. That has attitude. It is possible how not to love the guide who uses the line as one? TODO with your pants, maintains that. Where you inserted in my ones.

And,Weekend Sherpa, current events communication of the free E-mail where is designed vividly, in addition. That of the already alone thought young entrepreneur, the shellfish hooked nail day of style, recently " is San Francisco Magazine. As for help planning the excursion of your weekend of bay area promptly it is the service by the document. It does not plan by the fact that it goes everywhere and the, that when landing in all mornings your inbox of Thursday, is book-reading of the pleasure. The partner of the shellfish hooked nail of, is [hiiragi] Kulak of my old friend Weekend it supports several months of Sherpa.

As for me when it is success, this exciting start expects and. If I had lived in San Francisco, *, I related starting of medium, somehow. I pot style launching SunDance Magazine of the quick seventies. Afterwards many the start which is broken, I landed with Rolling where it is placed on the headquarters with 625 3rd sorts Stone. At the time of the pot weight of style of the Jann Wenner took that behavior to New York, I helped where you find Investigative reporting for the sake of Center. It is not long, after that, the group of the entrepreneur got near in me of the instruction manual for the magazine which was calledBread and Roses. It turned that To start time Mother Jones.

I being whoever, there you did not know, or I was not visited of still the office of 500 blocks 3rd sort and however the [te], as for me another start of San Francisco won [piyuritsutsua] of magazine prize, therefore I facsimile doing about the message of the celebration bragged in those. There perhaps was I. Because these things go, by 1995 the side of the net is slow Wired story by your, but. Therefore other many project, at least it has me the limited nearby part. I the room in this town, felt a certain thing always here because of everything. As for this way Kiri so accurately yesterday you put that, “”. Somewhere being agreeable to the other place, it is town of the creative people where is not good, *

Main matter approximately today, it means that dam this of Peter's who moves is the day my eldest son. He stacked the load in all that raw materials, and that car [pasadena] of the campus of the technology of cal drove to that new house. As for this house tonight you do not feel the same. After I slept, when Peter is the majority, it came to the house long, but I liked the fact that the light/write for that is left. That is splendid here him,) heart of that (adult how works, the having which is seen. Approximately because 5 and year half, as for him Weir which is the teacher. I see first in that day.

Other many thing is to do today coming, going away. The team of Aidan won the soccer game under the weather of the blue sky and the Indian summer. The boy went to the swimming party. Went my date and I to the movie. I love man-hour that I keep accompanying in the movie laughing with yell. The girl this when being pleasant tonight passed. There is a photograph in regard to her rising which tries the fact that it corresponds.

Michigan state erased Notre Dame. But the giant lost for the second time. I rise quickly, the league baseball where the treasure island is small am coached become; Then the team of my softball, to the picnic of seasonal end of the pot weight of Michigan Mafia. That was former times 々 and start. Time was 1978. But that is another story. *

The grief present our pumpkin crane is the most promising hail is, furthermore time it is quick, the fact that you dropped was discovered. There is a flower to which even now small amount expands under the yellow flower, but whether or not this it is large, this time you think concerning the positive pumpkin plant maintaining that gun with that pants, I think in doubt.

(I trust that Kiri and her TODO team will see the opportunity to market their product in the future in Tokyo. The billboard is already clear: "TODO with your pants, maintains that...where you inserted in my ones." Sounds like a winner. :-) )

Empty Nest Time

It's never easy when your child leaves home, as every parent knows. It certainly doesn't help if you're the kind of parent who has "transition" issues, which I apparently do.

Among all of the things I might blog about tonight, the one that means the most to me is this: My oldest son is moving to Pasadena tomorrow. He is entering the PhD program at Cal Tech in computational neuroscience. The photos I am posting tell a story.

He was a beautiful little boy, always smiling.

He was many things as a young boy, curious, aggressive, sweet, strong, fast, kind, observant, and incredibly gifted in math.

He eventually became the valedictorian of his high school class (Redwood High School, 2000).



But now, at the age of 25, he has trouble deciding what to take and what to leave behind. So, our living room tonight is a mess.




In this way, his dilemma is similar to the one we all face, and, of course, why I blog. These stories are the ones I must tell, as other stories I might prefer drift away on the tide, moving further out of reach...



Regardless of other deficits, I am a proud father of a great son tonight.

Sad-Eyed Lady* ( Lady* Triste-Eyed)

You know, my (almost) 8-year-old daughter does not usually have a sad face. Normally, she has a happy face. But last night, as Dylan shot this photo, she seemed to put on a complicated face. She was cooking dinner with me (thus the apron), but afterwards, all fell silent in this apartment. I went searching for her. I found her sitting cross-legged on my bed, looking at herself in the mirror.

I asked her what she was thinking about and she said "nothing." But she kept staring wordlessly into the mirror.

What am I to make of this? Boys never act this way. Even after so many years as a parent, and with three daughters, I feel like I am entering alien territory when I try to help one of my daughters get through whatever it is she is going through.

I know it is not enough to tell them that they are beautiful, even though in my eyes, my three girls are the loveliest creatures on this planet. Or that they are brilliant, which they are; charming, kind, compassionate, strong, athletic, impressive as leaders and teachers.

Maybe what I hit up against is the gender barrier that separates all of us, each from the other.

How, exactly, can a man talk to a woman if he can't talk effectively to his little girl?

I have many more questions than answers.

Q -- Can we be friends after we were lovers?

A -- Apparently not. My experience is that my ex-lover will not accept my offer of help, as if the core of what we had is no longer relevant.

Q -- Why do women have so much trouble making up their minds about essential things?

A-- Okay, this could be asked about many men too and there are so many exceptions it isn't even a rule, but in matters of the heart, as we age, as has been noted here before, I believe men show up more often than do women. Hopefully I am not offending anyone, but that's what experience teaches me.

Q -- Where does that sense of hope about the future go between the time little girls become middle-aged women?

A -- The only answer I have is another question. Is it just dragged out of their beings by repeated disappointments in love?

There is so much more. I have not even scraped the surface. Anyone's perspective is welcome...

+++

(*)
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims,
And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,
Who among them would try to impress you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

-- Bob Dylan

-30-



Sabes, mi (casi) hija de 8 años no tiene generalmente una cara triste. Normalmente, ella tiene una cara feliz. Pero ayer por la noche, como Dylan tirado esta foto, ella se parecía poner encendido una cara complicada. Ella cocinaba la cena con mí (así el delantal), pero luego, toda se cayó silencioso en este apartamento. Fui a buscarla para. Encontré su sentada a piernas cruzadas en mi cama, mirando se en el espejo.

Te pregunté que lo que ella pensaba alrededor y ella no dijo “nada.” Pero ella guardó el mirar fijamente wordlessly en el espejo.

¿Cuál soy a hacer de esto? Los muchachos nunca actúan esta manera. Incluso después de tan muchos años como padre, y con tres hijas, me siento como estoy entrando en el territorio extranjero cuando intento ayudar a una de mis hijas a conseguir por con lo que es ella está pasando.

Sé no es bastante para deciros que que sean hermosa, aun cuando en mis ojos, mis tres muchachas son las criaturas más encantadoras en este planeta. O eso son brillante, que son; el encantar, clase, compasivos, fuertes, atléticos, impresionantes como líderes y profesores.

Contra qué golpeo para arriba es quizá la barrera que separa todos nosotros, cada uno del género de la otra.

¿Cómo, puede un hombre hablar exactamente con una mujer si él no puede hablar con eficacia con su pequeña muchacha?

Tengo muchas más preguntas que respuestas.

Q -- ¿Podemos ser amigos después de que fuéramos amantes?

A -- Al parecer no. Mi experiencia es que mi ex-amante no aceptará mi oferta de la ayuda, como si la base de lo que teníamos sea no más relevante.

Q -- ¿Por qué las mujeres tienen tanto apuro el componer de sus mentes sobre cosas esenciales?

A-- La autorización, ésta se podría pedir acerca de muchos hombres también y hay así que muchas excepciones que no es uniforme una regla, pero en las materias del corazón, pues envejecemos, como se ha observado aquí antes, creo que los hombres demuestran para arriba más a menudo que las mujeres. Esperanzadamente no estoy ofendiendo cualquier persona, pero eso es lo que me enseña la experiencia.

Q -- ¿Adónde ese sentido de la esperanza sobre el futuro va entre el tiempo que las pequeñas muchachas hacen mujeres de mediana edad?

A -- La única respuesta que tengo es otra pregunta. ¿Apenas es arrastrada fuera de sus seres por decepciones repetidas en amor?

Hay tanto más. Incluso no he raspado la superficie. Cualquier persona perspectiva es agradable…

+++

(*)
Con tu silueta cuando la luz del sol amortigua
En tus ojos donde el claro de luna nada,
Y tus canciones del fósforo-libro y tus himnos gitanos,
¿Quién entre ellos intentaría impresionarte?
señora Triste-eyed de las tierras bajas,
Donde el profeta triste-eyed dice que viene ningún hombre,
Mis ojos del almacén, mis tambores árabes,
Si los dejó por tu puerta,
¿O, señora triste-eyed, debo esperar?

-- Bob Dylan

-30-

Tiny Dancer

To be a baseball fan, you have to believe in magic. What else explains game-winning comebacks when your team is behind 8-1? Not that tonight will produce one of those, but as I type this, the Giants are trying to do just that, and they've closed the gap to 8-5. A 6'7" tall pitcher, Scott Munter keyed the rally with his first MLB hit, a humungous double that carried out to "Triples Ally" in Telephone Company Park, and bounced up into the stands, which converted the hit into a ground-rule double.

Later in the comeback, Barry Bonds smashed a mighty line drive that bored its way into the right field wall. How odd. Another ground-rule double. If the Giants win this game, Munter will not be the winning pitcher, but he did a great job, throwing a sinker that turned batters' swings into easy ground balls that his infielders converted into outs.



***

Do you remember the man who wanted a tiny woman? He was driving down the highway recently, and since his local NPR station was pledge-driving, he fumbled into a "Light Rock, Less Talk" environment, which immediately yielded Elton John's song Link to Lyrics.

It turns out that the man did not end up getting a little tiny woman. He didn't get a dancer. He didn't get a pet, although two promising young cats have been offered to him, in the far North Country.

Another man got a phone call. He got an email, too. Once a long, long time ago, the emailer reminded him, obliquely, he helped somebody in trouble. All he did was drive this friend in his car to a place where help was available. On the way, he inadvertently made an illegal left turn, for which he was ticketed.

The emailer reminded him of this incident, so far in his past now it has faded entirely out of his memory. It's nice when friends do that, remind you of where you've been. In this case, the man may one day soon find himself in similar trouble. His emailer made him laugh; if he needed a ride to find help, no doubt another traffic ticket would be issued.

Nice symmetry.

***

Doing homework with his 12-year-old son, another man was surprised at his son's new maturity. No tears, not even any complaints, as he worked his way through difficult math assignments. Instead, he showed patience and persistence, and after a couple of hours, he had the math problems nailed. Very satisfying.

***

Giants trail by four now. One out, one on, courtesy of an Omar Vizquel bunt hit. Gutsy. It's the bottom of the 7th. They've walked Bonds this time, no doubt hoping to avoid another hole in the stadium wall.

***

I have a photo of a little boy, just a few years old, kissing a beautiful woman I know. It is a very sweet photo, but my friend does not wish her photos to be published. Seems like many of my friends don't like their photos published, and I understand. I'm happy having my photo published, as long as they are from my first five years on this planet.

Because this kiss was so sweet, and because the lovely woman closed her eyes, this qualifies as one of the best kissing photos I've ever seen. But all you can do is imagine the scene I have painted. Perhaps the meaning will come through.







This is serious now. The Giants are within two runs, 9-7, and those runs are sitting on 2nd and 3rd. Oops. This looks very bad. They will have to do it in the bottom of the 9th. There may or may not be enough magic tonight.

But, before I know what happens, I will close this post. Maybe magic, maybe a painful loss. Everyone who reads this blog knows all about loss, so we can assume that is how this will end.

The photos, BTW, are of my 12-year-old, who hits, pitches, and catches. He believes in magic still, but soon he'll be a teenager...

***

I'm still wondering about that guy and his imaginary tiny dancer. What is it he really wanted? Even more importantly, what did the tiny dancer want? She, after all, was the one calling all the shots.

Women, of all types, as we eventually discover, always do. That's one of the main reasons men play baseball. And, therefore, why we know how to lose, (if we do), which the Giants just did, in spite of a tremendous Barry Bonds home run in the 9th. They fell one run short.

Much like the story of my love life.

Through the looking glass, softly 1.2 (Con parecer de cristal, suavemente 1.1) 見るガラスを通して、そっと

I think I see a beautiful garden of flowers, attended by a lovely woman. All is yellow, and orange and pink and green. A photograph of a real person in a real place, captured as an image that blurs the boundaries between the real and the perceived.

In About Looking, John Berger explains this phenomenon. So, my question is this: How much of love is imaginary? If my feelings of love for someone exist in my mind and my heart, is that enough?

Or, does the feeling have to be returned in a way that I can accept and appreciate? What, then, is love all about?

I ask these questions because my daily reality here in San Francisco, as summer turns to fall and soon to winter, is my complete aloneness. My son Peter leaves here on Saturday, and when he goes I lose my only reliable adult companion. There is no woman in my life to share my daily experiences in a physical way.

I wake up alone.

I drive to work alone.

I shop, clean, cook alone.

I do the laundry alone.

I garden and I recycle alone.

Most nights, I eat alone, and I sleep alone.

Always, I blog alone.

Is this such a hard story to understand? The only question is whether, for me, it will prove to be sustainable. Mostly, I seem to be happy being alone. I am not particularly lonely. And I do have lots of love in my life. Just nobody by my side. As the days grow shorter, the air cooler, the light harsher, and the rest of the fruit on the trees falls to the ground, I sit inside with these thoughts at night, rather than outside, like before.

Last night I had a dream there were still several large plump plums on my tree. I was climbing in it, and I tried to reach for them. They looked perfectly round, firm, soft, supple, no doubt luscious to suck and bite. I reached as far as I could but they remained always out of my reach.

-30-

***

Martes 12 de septiembre de 2006

Pienso que veo un jardín hermoso de flores, asistido una mujer encantadora. Todo es amarillo, y anaranjado y rosado y verde. Una fotografía de una persona verdadera en un lugar verdadero, capturada como una imagen que vela los límites entre el verdadero y percibido.

En alrededor mirar, Juan Berger explica este fenómeno. Así pues, mi pregunta es ésta: ¿Cuánto del amor es imaginario? ¿Si mis sensaciones del amor para alguien existen en mi mente y mi corazón, es que bastantes?

¿O, la sensación tiene que ser vuelta de una manera que pueda aceptar y apreciar? ¿Sobre cuál, entonces, está el amor todo?

Hago estas preguntas porque mi realidad diaria aquí en San Francisco, como verano da vuelta a la caída y pronto al invierno, soy mi aloneness completo. Mi hijo Peter se va aquí el sábado, y cuando él va yo pierde a mi solamente compañero confiable del adulto. No hay mujer en mi vida para compartir mis experiencias diarias de una manera física.

Despierto solamente.

Conduzco para trabajar solamente.

Hago compras, limpio, cocino solamente.

Hago el lavadero solamente.

Cultivo un huerto y reciclo solamente.

La mayoría de las noches, yo como solamente, y duermo solamente.

Siempre, blog de I solamente.

¿Es una esta historia tan dura a entender? La única pregunta es si, para mí, demostrará ser sostenible. Sobre todo, me parezco ser el estar feliz solo. No soy particularmente solo. Y tengo porciones de amor en mi vida. Apenas nadie por mi lado. Como los días crecen más cortos, el refrigerador del aire, el más áspero ligero, y el resto de la fruta en los árboles baja a la tierra, me siento adentro con estos pensamientos en la noche, más bien que afuera, como antes.

Ayer por la noche tenía un sueño allí seguía siendo varios ciruelos regordetes grandes en mi árbol. Subía en él, e intenté alcanzar para ellos. Miraban redondean, ponen firme perfectamente, suave, flexible, ninguna duda deliciosos para aspirar y para morder. Alcancé por lo que podía pero permanecían siempre fuera de mi alcance.

-30-

fijado por los comentarios de David Weir @ 4:29 P.M. 0 se liga a este poste
Lunes

***

私は私が美しい女性が出席する花の美しい庭を見ることを考える。 すべては黄色およびオレンジおよびピンクおよび緑である。 実質間の境界を汚すおよび感知されるイメージとして捕獲される実質の場所の実質人の写真。 In About-Looking,では、ジョンBergerはこの現象を説明する。 そう、私の質問はこれである: 愛のどの位想像であるか。 誰かのための愛の私の感じが私の心および私の中心にあれば、ことが十分あるか。 または、感じは私が認めても受け入れ、いい方法で戻らなければならないか。 愛は何、についての完全に従ってあるか。 私は夏としてサンフランシスコの私の毎日の現実がここに、落下とすぐに冬に回るのでこれらの質問を、である私の完全なalonenessする。 私の息子ピーターは土曜日にここに去り、彼が私行くとき私の信頼できる大人の友達だけ失う。 物理的な方法で私の毎日の経験を共有する私の生命に女性がない。 私は単独で目覚める。 私は単独で働くために運転する。 私は単独で買物をしたり、きれいになったり、調理する。 私は単独で洗濯をする。 私は庭いじりをし、単独でリサイクルする。 ほとんどの夜、私は単独で食べ、単独で眠る。 常に、単独でiのblog。 理解するべきこの非常に堅い物語はあるか。 唯一の質問は、私のために、支持できる証明するかどうかである。 大抵、私は幸せなだけであることようである。 私は特に孤独でない。 そして私は私の生命の愛の多くを有する。 私の側面によってちょうどだれも。 日がより短く育つように、空気クーラー、軽いより粗いの、木のフルーツの残りは地面に下り、私は夜にこれらの思考と中坐る、よりもむしろ外で、前にのように。 昨晩私はまだそこの夢をだった私の木の複数の大きくふくよかなプラム有した。 私はそれで上って、私はそれらのために達することを試みた。 それらは完全に円形になったり、吸い、かむために固まる、柔らかく、甘美なしなやか、疑い見なかった。 私は私ができたが、それらが私の範囲から常に残った限りでは達した。 -30-

Finally, back to Jenglish:

I think of that you look at the garden where the flower where the woman where I am beautiful attends is beautiful. Everything is yellow and the orange and pink and green. Boundary between substance is polluted the photograph of the substantial person of the place of the substance which is captured and as the image which is perceived.

About with Looking, as for John Berger this phenomenon is explained. So, my question this is: It is which rank imagination of love? If my feeling of love because someone's is in my heart and my center, sufficiently is there a thing?

Or, I recognizing, it accepts feeling and must return being good method? What, concerning follow does love completely?

Because as for me my everyday actuality of San Francisco here, turns to the winter with falling directly as a summer, these questions are done, my complete aloneness which is.

My son Peter Saturday goes away here, when him me going, just the friend of the adult whom I can rely on loses. There is no woman in my life which shares my everyday experience with physical method.

I awake independently.

I drive in order to work independently.

I shop independently, become clean, cook.

I wash independently.

I do the garden fumbling, recycle independently.

Most nights, I eat independently, sleep independently.

Always, independently i blog.

This it should understand is there a very hard story? Whether or not because of me, it can support the only question, it proves, is. Mostly, I seem to be the thing way which is just happy. I especially am not lonely. And I possess many of love of my life. Exactly with my side everyone.

In order for day to be brought up more shortly, rather than the air cooler, being light, is rough, remainder of the fruit of the wood descends to the land, I these thoughts and in sit down in the night, from outside the margin which is rubbed, like before.

Last night I portly plums possessed the dream over there still of my wood which is the group of largely. As for me rising with that, as for me you tried the fact that it reaches because of those. That secure in order to bite becomes completely circle, and will be that soft, sweet pliant, being doubted, you did not see, it sucks. I me was possible, but if those always remained from my range, with it reached.

-30-

***

Ah yes, the physical method. That's nice.

Who needs a muse? ( ¿Quién necesita un muse?) だれがじっくり考えを必要とするか。(*) 1.2

As I look at this fuzzy image of a very pretty woman, I begin to find my writing voice. The question is: Why should it be this way? Shouldn't I just locate what I want to say on my own, without external stimulation?

Apparently not. In conversation tonight with a friend, it was suggested that I am seeking external validation for all that I write. A mirror. This is what the mirror said to me, in the form of both words and images:

When a Man Loves a Woman
~ Percy Sledge

When a man loves a woman
Can't keep his mind on nothing else
He'd trade the world for the good thing he's found...

When a man loves a woman
Down deep in his soul
She can bring him such misery




And after that song finishes playing in my brain, there is:

That's How Strong My Love Is Lyrics
Otis Redding

If I was the sun way up there
I'd go with love most everywhere
I'll be the moon when the sun goes down
Just to let you know that I'm still around

That's how strong my love is...

I'll be the weeping willow drowning in my tears
You can go swimming when you're here
I'll be the rainbow when the sun is gone
Wrap you in my colors and keep you warm

That's how strong my love is, darling...

I'll be the ocean so deep and wide
I'll get out the tears whenever you cry,
I'll be the breeze after the storm is gone
To dry your eyes and love you warm

That's how strong my love is, baby...




And, after that song finishes, there plays:

That Lovin' You Feeling Again
Roy Orbison and Emmy Lou Harris




When I saw you standing there on the street
I found myself by your side
I started wanting you again
There's just no way to hide from that old
Loving You feeling again
It's really got me reeling again
It only seems to stop to start all over again with you
I remember how you'd always been
That certain look in your eyes
Your not easy to resist
But I just walked on by
With that loving old feeling again
It's really got me reeling again
Only seems to stop to start all over again with you
Loving you feeling with you
We were so close we were too far apart
I gave you my love
I wanted your heart
Without yesterday haunting the way
Maybe we'd still be together
Sharing that loving you feeling again
It's really got me reeling again
Will it ever stop and not start over again
That loving you feeling again
No matter how much I try
This loving you feeling
It's taken such a long time to say goodbye
And getting over you is so hard to do
With this feeling loving you
That loving you feeling again


Then, after all this, my reckless side kicks in, and I remember Hank Williams, Jr.'s Finders are Keepers:

You're one in a million, a hundred to one shot.
I took a gamble and just lookie here what I got.
A diamond in the middle in a field full of stone.
And I'm bettin' everything I got that you can keep me comin' home.

Finders are Keepers
And I'm keeping you as long as I can.
Finders are Keeepers
So baby don't ever stop just keep on holdin' my hand.

A needle in a haystack would be easy to do
Compared to me finding somebody else like you.
I tell ya chasing the perfect woman is just like rolling the dice,
She's as pretty as a natural eleven and I'm puttin' my heart on the line.

Finders are Keepers
And I'm keeping you as long as I can.
Finders are Keeepers
So baby don't ever stop just keep on holdin' my hand.

Finders are Keeepers
So baby keep on keepin' on with your lovin' man.



Who wouldn't be inspired by such beauty? After listening to my four songwriter guides, the fuzziness of the image begins to assume the shape of the connection between love and art.

This blog has always mainly been about love. I started with love lost and I am progressing in the hope of one day discovering love found. Until then, images, soft, fuzzy, untouchable are what I can write about.

None of this is personal. All of it is collective.

-30-


(*) Which comes back into English as: Someone needs thinking thoroughly?

Plea from Biloxi

I shot this image in January. Although things are getting cleaned up in Biloxi, the people there are still in great need of help.



***



Sharon Hanshaw, the Executive Director of Coastal Women for Change, recently issued this open letter:


My name is Sharon Hanshaw, and I’m the Executive Director of a non-profit organization called Coastal Women for Change, headquartered in Biloxi, Mississippi. As I watched CNN’s recent Katrina anniversary coverage, I saw story after story about New Orleans sandwiched between heartwarming stories about dolphin rescues and the adoption of stray animals.

Believe me, I have nothing against media coverage of the plight of people in New Orleans or the fate of lost animals. But I am angry with CNN, and here are the reasons why.

First of all, I doubt many people around the country realize that New Orleans received only a glancing blow from Katrina, whereas people along my part of the Gulf Coast took a direct hit. We lost everything we had and everything we had ever known.

Katrina made landfall just up the road near the town of Waveland, which was essentially obliterated, so much so that its nickname ever since has been “Wasteland.” My own community of East Biloxi was similarly flattened, as were parts of Gulfport, Bay St. Louis, Pass Christian, and other towns along the Mississippi coast.

The poor in New Orleans suffered not from the storm itself, but because the levies failed. As horrible as that was, it is quite different from having your house explode into a million splinters, your possessions blasted into bits and splattered in the trees and bushes, numbers of your friends and neighbors swept out to sea, and the aftermath of a giant coat of toxic mud sprayed over your entire community – the smell of death.

That is what happened to us, but I didn’t see a word about this on CNN or other major national media outlets. In fact, the only contact I had from CNN was word that they had put a story about us “on hold,” apparently permanently.

The sad thing is this kind of treatment is what we’ve grown to expect from the media, from politicians, and from everyone with any power over whether or how our coastal communities will be rebuilt.

The big relief agencies put us on hold; FEMA put us on hold; the local, state, and federal governments put us on hold, and now CNN has put us on hold, too.

Well, guess what? I’m tired of being put on hold. The people I work with in Coastal Women for Change have already endured too much pain. Do you realize that in the days following Katrina, when we tried to reach the assistance centers set up in Houston, Texas, we were turned away because they told us they were only able to help victims from New Orleans!

Sometimes, sympathetic volunteers called over their supervisors to ask whether they could help us too. It became embarrassing and frustrating to be required to explain over and over again that though we weren't from New Orleans, we needed help nonetheless.

That is one indication of the effects of the saturation media coverage of the fate of New Orleans, to the relative neglect of what happened to the people along the Mississippi Coast, who were the ones at Ground Zero of Katrina’s wrath. To this day, my insides quiver when I hear people speak about the storm with the ignorance created and perpetuated by imbalanced media coverage.

My own family traces back to 1835 right here on the Mississippi coast, and EVERYTHING I ever knew is gone. Some of my family and friends were washed away. Almost immediately, following the storm, developers seized the opportunity to turn what is left of our community into a resort area that would finish the demolition Katrina started.

Here, we remain desperate for someone to notice how badly we are hurting a year after the storm. Except for the small groups of grassroots volunteers and church people who help us, month after month, we would have nowhere to stay, little to eat, nothing to wear, and nowhere to go for the emotional support we need to keep going.

Please circulate my open letter to anyone who might be able to help. Consider it an urgent appeal from the people of America’s forgotten coast.

Thank you for listening.

You can visit CWC and find out more about this remarkable group of women at Click Here.

And Then There's Love...

Everyone I've ever been in love with gave me something I couldn't have gotten on my own, or at least I thought I couldn't. Speaking strictly for myself, though I know this applies to many others as well, I came into adulthood with so many missing pieces that for decades my love relationships were all about trying to making up for my own deficits through loving another person. In the process, I became an expert caretaker, attentive and committed to boosting the other's self-esteem, while rarely giving voice to my own needs -- since I was barely conscious that I had any.

This profile is a dangerous person to be in relationship with. He easily becomes resentful that he's doing too much and not getting enough back in return.

In fact, the women in my life have always given me at least as much as I gave them. It's always been equal, or as equal as we could make it. But after my last breakup, I started wondering whether men and women have messed things up so much in our culture that it might be better to try and meet women from other cultures.

I still love American women; don't get me wrong. In so many ways they are the best potential partners for American men. But the gender wars of the last 30 years have worn us all down, so much so that maybe we all need a break from one another in the form of seeking relationships with other kinds of people from other parts of the globe.

No matter how you slice it, our way of doing things in parochial America is only one way to do them. Having been fortunate enough to have traveled to at least two dozen countries, several of them multiple times, I'm well aware of how arbitrary each culture's governing assumptions and customs truly are.

There are all sorts of other ways to be in a couple than the norm we employ here. Of course, with this country, we've been able to develop a diversity of relationship types in modern times, some of which are as progressive as anywhere in the world. But I doubt I am unique in appreciating the potential cross-cultural benefits of getting to know people from radically different societies better. Of learning how to create intimacy across not only gender but culture.

I think that path might hold the promise of more satisfaction for me than would the business as usual routine between American men and women. Maybe this is all theoretical, at present. But knowing what you are looking for in life is an important part of finding it. I had lunch with a friend of mine yesterday, a lovely woman aged 45, divorced, mother of two sweet daughters, and two years into a relationship with a new man.

She argued that as we grow older we know much more about what we want in other people, and we don't dilly-dally around as much as when we were young. We get serious pretty fast, and we recognize 'types' -- the commitment-phobic type, the cheating type, the marrying type, the unreliable type, the caretaker type, the charismatic type (watch out for them), the narcissistic type, and on and on.

We've all had enough experience to sort the people out we meet more efficiently than in the past. When we were young, hormones drove us into all sorts of impulsive choices, and while that can still happen in your 40s and 50s, other factors soon overtake the purely biological attractions that (apparently) never stop happening.

This makes breaking up at older ages much more painful than when we were young. Then, we might get hurt, or hurt somebody, but neither of us truly knew what we were doing.

Now it's different. We know, or we ought to know. Otherwise, we ruin the risk of "obliterating" somebody, as I've previously noted. When you give your heart away, you've entered extremely dangerous territory. We're all old enough to know this. And yet some of us keep doing it!

Are we the weak ones? Is it a bad trait? Shouldn't we learn how to be more guarded, to spot the danger signs, to hold back, be cool, remain somewhat aloof from our lovers?

Maybe. For my part, I don't care to live in such a world. I'd rather find cultural pockets elsewhere that contain at least the promise of true romantic love. Sharing emotional intimacy is as good as it gets in this life.

I intend to experience that again...

Indian Summer Weekend

It's fall ball time. Soccer, Little League Baseball, Softball, MLB, fantasy baseball -- all are in the exciting phase of beginning or ending.

The scores are in at 1-2, 5-4(11), 7-2 (in progress), start time 4 pm PST, and then there is my beloved Mud Lake Mafia. My fantasy team has suddenly and unexpectedly lurched from 14th place, where we have been buried all season, to 11th place today!

You have to understand that in my world, this is big news.

***

Today, I learned of some sad news. A young friend on my softball team lost his Mom a month ago to cancer. She was 57. I remember her coming to our games, and rooting strongly for the Michigan Mafia, and for her son. Mother and son were obviously close. She clearly did a great job; he's a fine young man -- and a great hitter. He also was my ten-year-old son's camp counselor the past two summers. Dylan is making him a card right now; it is covered with Sad Faces.

I talked to this woman's brother today; that's how I found out about it. He is mourning his sister, and supporting his nephew. That's why he was out there today. I had to leave early, but we were ahead 7-2, and seemingly in command.

***

The Giants are making a serious run for the playoffs, though they still must be rated a long shot. They've won two straight tough games this weekend against the tough Padres. Tonight's game is critical -- only if the Giants win it will they draw close enough to have a realistic shot at the Wild Card.

***

Peter's been working been working with my friend Julie, in her law offices. He's been exposed to the world of our criminal justice system, where the defendants of poor young black men, the victims are poor young black men, and the judges, prosecutors, defenders, and jury members are rarely if ever young black men.

In the papers, a middle aged black man's book about his radical youth receives praise. But this man is believed to have done something very awful, for which he has never been brought to justice. It is still possible, apparently, for people to get away with murder. Even in this age of DNA and forensic science, many Cold Cases remain unsolved.

It takes a D.A. with guts, a police department with guts, and investigator with guts, a victim's family with guts. It's hard for all of these parties to come into alignment at the right time. After all, in the neighborhoods where most murders take place, the priority is placed on solving today's crime, as opposed to yesteryear's.

It is extremely difficult for the victim's family. Year after year, they wait, hoping to see the perpetrator brought to justice; hoping at least to know what actually happened and why. In our society, there are those shameless enough to profit from the evil they've done, without ever allowing themselves to be held accountable.

But some of us are watching. And the statute never runs out on murder.

***

We had a big birthday bash last night at my house. Lots of kids and lots of adults. The picture above was taken last night by Dylan. Below, Aidan batting in today's Fall Ball opener. We lost 3-5.