If Wishes were Bagels

It was a quiet Friday. Between walking the dog, watching a few tv shows, and packing a few eBay items, this was an extreme low key day. I’ll take it.

Early in the week I didn’t know if I’d be serving on a jury for a criminal case. The case, that involved a stabbing on public transportation, would have gone until mid-April. As a resident of San Francisco for over 20 years, I have done my civic duty before and like a lot of folks, I wasn’t anxious to get on a long trial.

It was close. They were wheedling down the number of potential jurors and they chose a few folks from my group. My bunch was the last and that may have been advantageous. I thought that being the first 12 jurors was lucky because they didn’t end up keeping any. The first few rounds of people to sit, never got a chance to get comfortable. It was non-stop: “Number 6 thank you for your service you are excused.” I was watching a runway of jurors modeling the latest get out of jail smiles. As they left I imagine each skipping in the middle of the street, laughing maniacally as they dodged traffic. Damn them.

When the two lawyers found agreement on a jury, I couldn’t have been happier. I thought I was going to burst a blood vessel. I started daydreaming about getting on public transportation (yes I know, it’s a case about a stabbing on MUNI). There was one slight moment before they swore in their 12 angry men and 6 alternates, when they made absolute sure that these choices would be in court for the ENTIRE run of the case.

A few folks did try to squirm out. The judge wasn’t playing. The “I might be at a wedding the end of the month” or “I need someone to watch the kids for a few days” didn’t go over big. The “I found out my boss will not pay for this and I have to pay for rent” person was interesting because it brought up, via an attorney, a new program beginning in a week. San Francisco is beginning a new program that will pay jurors $100 a day for serving. The judge asked no rent guy, if that would make a difference and he said: “no, not at all”. Everyone laughs at this because…we all live here.

It's a groggy Monday for me. I got up at 5:00 a.m. and could never properly get back to sleep. At that hour, I looked over at my dog and she was dreaming of something, that I believe involved running. Her paws were moving back and forth and there were murmurs. I get dreams like that as well but dreamland ended too soon this fine morning.

It's been a string of fine mornings, if you enjoy warm weather. The fog seems to be playing hide and seek with everybody but mostly hiding. We are in the midst of a mini heat wave. We get these here, they never last very long because you never bet against the fog. The fog always wins. It's the Rocky from the second movie.

We were out Sunday in the warmth that was the marina district, playing softball in the last couple of games of the season. We split a double header and ended up going 10-4 for the season and coming in second place, which is a pretty good place to be for this young team. As one of the 2 older players on the team, I've enjoyed watching this group improve. They've got more to go but they can hit and they pick each other up and are generally positive, even when something flops.

My day went well on the field, even after jamming my hand into second base. I was able to play thru some pain, get my hits. At home it was the ice and ibuprofen cocktail. The right wrist is still smarting with a little swelling. I'm hoping for a quick heal as tournament season begins July 4th weekend. Wish me luck. Yes softball retirement is all the rage.

Monday is the universally understood blech day of the week (If you're working it). It's sunny and 75 degrees out there. The San Francisco fog's hide and seek routine, the last couple of days has inspired residents to sport shorts and tees. The thought of laying on a beach somewhere was an attractive concept. It is days like these, that the memory of being unemployed for a chunk of time, helps kick your body into gear, a gear that's shifted once again after coffee.

It was a nice weekend. I took advantage of cool weather Saturday and watched a movie: Green Lantern. Being a reader of this particular funny book, when I was a kid, I was particularly disappointed that they got the Hal Jordon character DEAD WRONG. All that money, that went into all that CGI and it's the main character interpretation, essentially words on the page, that sunk this movie. It's yet another movie, that does not need to be seen in 3-D; what I like to call 3-Don't these days. Please make my movies in wonderful 2-D with an A plus story and script. Jordan was never meant to be a big wuss. When the writer or director or both, made that choice...they decided to make a few things lighter, possibly exploring, what's funny to them about this story. Bad choice folks. "I pledge allegiance to a Lantern that I got from a dieing purple alien," Ryan Reynolds says, when checking out his new toys...ugh.

While the film was 3-D, all the other characters were 1-D as in one dimensional. Some potentially good characters in the Green Lantern corps such as Sinestro were minor parts. Angela Bassett is in a walk-on part as Amanda Waller. She is in 2 or 3 scenes and the only thing the audience knows is that she works for the government, while comic-book folks knows that Waller is an administrator for the Suicide Squad.
There is some good CGI work in Green Lantern but will you not remember any of it 10 minutes after you've left the theater? I think not. In retrospect, what the makers of the Thor movie did right was stay true to the main character and use aspects of the character (arrogance) to fuel part of the story. Here the story wasn't great but you're with him early on and the few comedic moments that happen feel natural. You want to show me fireworks? Fine but give me something with it; a side order of story and character, please.

Sunday's warmer weather played well for our last regular softball game of the year. We had a 10:15 a.m. match against the Penguins. We got up early for a light hitting practice. in fact, my alarm got me up at 6 a.m., I cursed the gods of softball but later apologized, after all there was a game to win. Admittedly, I always like to beat the Penguins, they are our old rivals from the rec division, plus I remember more than a few nasty rating meetings, when I would go toe to toe with their manager; a self-professed bitch queen from hell. He actually announces that at the first meeting...so there are no misconceptions. However, I figure most of their players don't know the history. It's been so many years. Who really cares? I know there manager cares. My team knows I care; when I say silly stuff like: I want you to keep scoring runs, like every inning. I want Penguin meat, it tastes great with salt. My guys had a real good game to the tune of 21-3.

The North Beach festival was happening right outside my doorstep Saturday and Sunday. Really, what is it about the smell of anything frying that makes me stop and take notice? I snacked on occasion, on one particular time, I bought one of those gigantic turkey legs, it was a real Fred Flinstone moment. The fair could definitely use more seating for folks eating and drinking. I would buy stuff and go right back up to my apartment because the sidewalks didn't look comfortable. The fair was busy not unlike myself all-weekend, catching up with buddies, seeing bad CGI movies and softballing. And now it's back to the work week at my fortress of solitude.

It's great being back on a semi-regular gym routine, especially with my crazy new sleeping / awake hours. My theory continues to be, work out (especially cardio), vitamins, and get enough sleep to make a difference and my body will still be alright during the wee hours of the morning, when I am awake. Stay tuned.

It's weird being a creature of the night in a city that does shut down to a great extent by 2 a.m.. And the few cast of characters that are out and about do not necessarily give one the warm fuzzies. San Francisco has a few 24 hour diners / eateries and of course the 24 hour fitness places. It's ironic that I call my work, the Fortress of Solitude but there is actually some life in there because it is a 24 business, the real solitude is outside, when I've got some time off. This is weird for me to admit because I do enjoy being alone (to some degree) and I've grown used to it. But, it's different when it's not a choice or actually, the only choice. San Francisco is NOT a 24 hour city...really. My friends are in bed, when I go to the gym or have a meal at 3:00 a.m., I am leaving work, when they are going to work, the social situations are limited (to all my friends who are not working, this is not a complaint, it's an observation, I am rooting for all of us).

While, I can come off this nutty schedule on the weekend, I have to be careful about it. I find myself doing a similar schedule so as not to be screwed on my first day back. Maybe, I'll stay up until 7 a.m. and power nap until midday....yadda...yadda..yadda.

I was reminded how tough it is to stay awake, when having a glass of wine and watching a mediocre movie. Last night, I watched Vince Vaughn's Couples Retreat and other than a few funny moments, it was a real yawnfest.

Switching gears, it's weird how the Academy has reverted back to 10 nominations for best film. Are there really more choices? I'm looking at their selections this year and have to wonder. Would Sandra Bullock's The Blind Side be nominated, if they stayed with the top 5?

Growing up in New York City, I've enjoyed marking the differences between San Francisco/ California and the east coast. I've blogged about the Pizzas (or was that whining), the bagels...the Jewish deli...sigh.

My current kick is trying to put 10 days together, without hearing or seeing the word organic. Recently, I got as high as three days without encountering the word in question. It is really difficult to do in California. Even if you've got a few days where nothing is happening and you lock yourself away at home with a book, the "O" word is on TV, radio, and online. See if you can do 10 days without encountering that word. Good luck.

Yesterday, I stopped at the local public library for a replacement card. It is so fast and easy to do these days; they look you up, scan a ready made card, slap a few stickers on it and boom. You get to pick from a bunch of designs. There were six cards to choose from and the one that stuck out for me was a colorful circular design with the word "Read" on it, done by, according to the card, a 4th grader. I happily chose this card. There was a woman behind me that saw my choice. She tapped me on the shoulder, "Card number 6 is made from corn." "Oh, " I said. The librarian hadn't told me, the options would include cards made by other means. I looked at card number 6, with it's bland light green stripe and the word eco-card printed on it and quite frankly, it didn't move me like it should.

I do like corn. I envisioned a scene a couple of weeks later returning to the library and asking for a new card. The librarian staring at me curious can't help but say, "Didn't we already give you a new card?" "Yes, " I would answer, "but I got hungry and ate the card, do you have a card made of meatballs?" A woman would once again tap me from behind to say that card #7 is made from organic meatballs and I would envision happy cows relaxing in the steam room.

I realize that there is a good and a bad time to make a point but sometimes in this foggy little city, it can be a challenge knowing when to throw down the gauntlet and when to keep moving. Does it all come down to principle? Am I unhappy because of the lameness of it?

My current assignment has decided 'cause of the bay bridge closing (Next weekend) that they will move next weeks' Thursday to this Sunday (rather last second). Their regular employees are stunned. Sunday spells OT for me and my fellow contractors, as Friday will make 40 hours. The catch is, no one wants to pay us that overtime, not the agency or the outfit. I'm thinking the Department of Labor would have an interesting comment on that (especially since the outfit works for the federal government).

I called the agency yesterday to get the scoop. I was told that the OT was a negative so we are not to work it. My manager on site has told us that Sunday is mandatory.

Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful to be busy...VERY THANKFUL but getting screwed is getting screwed. We sat through a meeting where the manager spoke about the extra money the regular employees would get. The contractors looked at each other like: WTF? We're being put in a strange position but there is some solidarity as none of us have the heart to come in Sunday. The agency will get a few more calls today, including my call...I'm going to continue stressing communication. Otherwise, yes the gauntlet is down.

To Jack...qbear

For awhile there my friend Mike in London went on a scanning frenzy of old pictures. The purpose was apparently, to upload them to Facebook and tag everyone, who might remember the picture or event or even to comment on someones outfit. Well, Mike got me good on the below shot. I guess, it's only, your very sweet friends that make you feel old and nostalgic; all at the same time. Geez, I was in my late twenties (yeah, I pretty much had facial hair when I turned 17), it was New Year's Eve and we were on a boat, going around Manhattan.