calling card of a dead man

i was thinking about a ray bradbury book i had never finished reading, and decided to go look for it in the garage. i found it and began to read it again from the beginning. as i made my way through to the point where i had last left off some 20+ years ago, a little business card fell from between two of the pages. i picked it up and studied it. it had a name, address and phone number, but no mention of any business or service. and it took me a minute before i remembered where it had originally come from.
one day those many years ago as i was on the 5 fulton bus, heading from golden gate park to downtown, reading that same ray bradbury book, an older gentleman spotted me reading, and struck up a conversation. he commented on how he seldom saw young people reading anymore, and we talked about books and authors and the city. and then he asked me if i would like to earn a little money, helping him organize some of his own writings. he said he had been working on his memoirs and needed an assistant. being broke and somewhat curious i said i would be willing to help. and that's when he must have handed me this calling card.
on an agreed day and time i showed up to his studio, way out at the end of fulton, a block from the beach. in fact his view of ocean beach was quite enviable. he wasn't quite sure where to start and had me locate various papers and letters for him. and then he began to make dictation, which i was supposed to record. it was slow going, with a lot of stops and read backs, and at one point the old guy snapped at me when i asked what i thought a very innocent question, and after a couple hours i made my excuses, and made my way out of there.
i never did go back or call, and so when i discovered this calling card again i was curious to see if anything ever amounted to the old man's memoirs. i didn't locate anything published by him, but a google search informed me that he had lived quite the interesting life. he had lived in both new york and san francisco, and rubbed elbows with writers, theater folk and even a famous sausalito madam. he was a child during the 1906 earthquake and witnessed the horrors of the aftermath of that tragedy as he made his way through a burning san francisco that grim day. and as i thought about that anniversary today, i thought it worth sharing that i had once crossed paths with this really interesting old guy. perhaps if i had been a little more patient, i might have helped him record his story that remained largely untold.

imagination
circumnavigates our thoughts
and then returns home

just trying to stay clean, interesting, inspiring and educational today...

record finds

so as i continued to try and sort out my new garage, i made a discovery the other day. buried in a box of old records my father in law had given me some time ago i found these very tiny ones. they are smaller than a 45 and have grooves on only one side. on the non-grooved side are patent dates from the very early 1900's. i'm assuming they are little 78's, but so far i haven't had the courage to play one. but i just thought they were so odd i wanted to share them. they are clearly before my time.

but even as i was sorting through my own records, and organizing the few 45's i do own, i was impressed by this deep history of recorded music cataloged not only in our own memories, and in the music itself, but also in the beautiful paper labels that adorn these old recordings. today as with the cover art it has mostly vanished into the digital matrix. these 3 look to be from about 1918, which means that my wife's 95 year old grandfather probably listened to them as a toddler. i'll have to see if i can turn them into mp3 for him before he's gone.

if you want to learn more about these tiny recordings there is a great website archiving the entire line. check it out here. i'm still amazed that after all this time, it is still possible to see something new pop out at you in a stack of wax.

first you learn the notes
as play becomes internal
the rhythm is jazz

for love of the game

even as the hoops hopeful watch helplessly from the sidelines, and see an ever darkening cloud moving in to wipe out this nba season, the game goes on. it goes on in countless pick up games in church and school gyms. it goes on at outdoor recesses and in driveway games of horse, 21 and around the world. and it goes on every tuesday night for me as i step into the role of a coach for my oldest boys in our local church basketball league.

i love watching these young men and women learning how to play together. although they are right at the end of it, they are still playing with the joy and enthusiasm of children. for the love. and one day for most of them, that love will probably be gone. the intense ratcheting up of competition will force many of them out, and some of them up, although it will carry with it an increasing expectation of performance. and that pressure combined with the sole aim to win.

and these are not bad things in themselves. but when the love is shed in this trade, it is a great loss. and so as i shake my head and watch grown men dig in with the sole aim to win on their side of a labor dispute, i have to wonder what happened to the love?

living out now what
they promised you years ago
the time of your life

the trade offs

author mark twain spoke of his great love for the river as a boy. how he loved to be near it, running along its muddy banks watching the sun dance on the water. and as he ran up and down the river bank he was ever fascinated by the river boats that navigated it. like their rail bound counterparts the men who captained these vessels were held in high esteem. one can only wonder what went through twain's young mind as he watched the solitary figure of the river boat captain at his post, keeping eye on the river, and maybe catching his gaze, nodding back to the young boy.
as twain grew he studied diligently to achieve the post of river boat captain, and in fact his pen name "mark twain" is actually a nautical term which refers to a safe depth for river boats. after he had achieved this goal and had been a pilot on the river for some time, he reflected on all that he had given up in doing so. as a captain he was obligated to be constantly on watch for hazards and conditions on the river way that might require quick action from him. he commanded a crew and had to earn and keep their respect. he had the safety of a vessel, its cargo and passengers as his responsibility. and in all of this he realized one day that he had lost the carefree easy attitude that had drawn him to the river in the first place. the poetry and sunsets were gone to him replaced by cold facts which he had taken so much care to absorb as he'd learned his trade.
and so the question is was he better for it? i imagine old sam clemens, now at the pilot house of his own river boat, and as he gazed intently at all that was before him, i see another small boy running to catch site of him. perhaps twain paused from all his work for a moment, nodded to the boy and gave a toot from the steam whistle as the process began anew. and i too am now beginning to feel like old sam.

captain's log

another great score from the ongoing "friends of the library" book shelf at our local library. the moby books edition "the mutiny on board h.m.s. bounty" based on the real life account of william bligh's writings at sea and later after returning successfully to england. although the story has been done multiple times by hollywood featuring sympathetic flether christians played by gable, brando and mel gibson, i feel bligh has always been over vilified. sure, he may have been a harsh taskmaster, but he was the captain. and only by wit and providence was he able to survive both the mutiny and the desperate open sea crossing in a small launch. that has to count for something, right?
anyway i loved these books as a boy. the invitation to high adventure on the high seas and mixed with an illustration on every other page, it was a perfect entry point into more classic literature. i read the moby dick version years ago on a long distance driving vacation and the memory of it still is perched in my brain. as we rode through the summer heat of texas i could smell the salt air from the gulf and imagined myself climbing the spars as the ship below me pitched and rolled. and at only 2 quarters for this one i look forward to boarding for another voyage.

taking liberties

as i have been plodding along recently in my readings, i have unconsciously stumbled into the 18th century. i didn't mean to, it just happened. it started with the tom hanks produced mini-series "john adams" with paul giamatti. as i watched i realized i knew very little about early american history. the later stuff, sure sure. but this business before photography is admittedly a weak area for me. and so, after watching the featurette with david mc cullough which followed the series i was wont for more and checked out his other book from the local library.
and as the end of june fast approached i began to realize my new studies were quickly coming to an intersection with the country's own prescribed date of birth. and it's interesting how much my perspective on all this has changed simply by spending a little time trying to get into the minds and ideas of some of the key figures involved in these events. sometimes it's difficult to get past the formal language, but if you hang in there you can sometimes get an idea of just how potent this idea was called independence.

"every age and generation must be free to act for itself, in all cases, as the ages and generations which preceded it. the vanity and presumption of governing beyond the grave, is the most ridiculous and insolent of all tyrannies. man has no property in man; nether has any generation a property in the generations which are to follow" - thomas paine

draw the diagram
of all lives lived here as we
go around again

it's finally starting to feel like spring again. summer is 2 weeks away...

the first taste leaves you
wanting, waiting while you see
it with your eyes closed

storehouses of
innocents kept full in reserve
we all are poorer

words illuminate
our feeble minds that we see
to open our hearts

a cautionary tale

on a recent trip to our local library i ducked into the newly built and ongoing "friends of the library" book sale room. at our old branch there was just a small metal bookcase which held donated items that were then sold to help with new purchases. i bought a great old 70's book with reprints from the old sears and roebuck catalogs there once.


the new room is beautiful. dark wood shelves with a display wall and organized by genre. while browsing i spotted this little red book sitting innocently away from another stack. i love tiny books like this so i picked it up, curious by the cover what it might be. poetry? a nature guide? turned out it was a very tiny children's book by famed author maurice sendak called "pierre a cautionary tale" about a little boy who says "i don't care" to whatever question anyone asks him.


one day a lion comes in to his house and asks if pierre would mind if he ate him to which he of course replies "i don't care". so the lion eats him, much to the distress of his parents. but fear not, for all works out in the end as the lion coughs him up and the boy pierre learns a very valuable lesson indeed. for as the author robert pirsig noted in his seminole work "zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" quality cannot begin without caring. and certainly i have found it to be true. in jobs i didn't want to care about, relationships and tasks of general distress. you can't build anything of quality with hopes that it will last without first caring. so as you set out in your own world and confront these very difficult situations think of pierre and ask yourself that one question.

man with the metal skin
weeps for the bride who wants him
no more made of flesh

public seating 002

i'm a big fan of the library. i'm usually there at least once a week picking up new books, movies and music that i wouldn't otherwise have access to. and i have adapted more and more to the sensibility of being a "user" instead of an "owner". it has so many of the benefits, and so few of the drawbacks.
our local branch had been closed for the last few months while they relocated to their new site. the new branch just opened up and i stopped by the first day to check it out. it was a bit of a madhouse. as i stepped inside the place was filled with people milling around, exploring the new space. our old library was a fairly modest single story. this new one is a two story, and there were groups of kids trying the elevator out, riding it up and down. none of the checkout computers were working correctly and the library staff was noticeably overwhelmed. people were walking through the newly installed retail style sensor detectors setting them off. the whole scene had a kind of comedic sense to it.


although many of the kinks still needed to be worked out, i was impressed by the size and design of our newest public building. it sort of felt like getting a new car. the paint is fresh, the carpet smells new, and all of the furniture is immaculate. as i made my way through the different sections, getting the lay of the land i suddenly came across a bench style seating area reminiscent of a diner booth with a high-back attachment. it seemed familiar, but i initially could not figure out why. then it hit me. i was looking at the bix-lounge piece designed by my great friend jess while he was still working at metro. so cool to see it up close and in person. i sat down and tried it out. it felt great. i would be absolutely ok working here all day.


and this gave me a thought. as i am an appreciator of beautifully designed modern furniture, an enthusiastic amateur if you will, and not a man of means i look for opportunities to try out some of my favorite pieces whenever there's a chance. but again in my case it's a matter of being a user rather than an owner. and so as opportunity, location and circumstance offer new chances at getting a little "seat time" in places of discovery, i shall share them. a kind of spot device for wonderful public seating areas.
i'm already looking forward to spending some extended reading time at the bix lounge on my next day off. sneak in a cup of coffee, and i really can't think of a finer way to spend a morning.

embraceable

i really dig modern furniture. i mentioned chairs in an earlier post, but i'm wild about it all. i don't mean in some kind of intellectual high-brow snobbish way. good furniture like all good design starts as a philosophical, not a styling exercise. the designer sets out to solve a problem. they consider a need. they evaluate materials and ultimately create something that didn't exist before. and when what they have created reaches out to others in a playful and meaningful way as if to dance, the process is completed.
i was thinking about a stool. i like stools because they're humble, utilitarian. they don't get all the glamour chairs and sofas do, but i've had some of the best conversations on one. anyway, i was thinking about a stool. i thought it would be nice to have one made of bent plywood and a handle on the sides. something to perch on when bodies fill up our tiny apartment. maybe it could even double as a minimalist coffee table or footstool. i hadn't remembered seeing one anywhere, but i was thinking of something along the lines of this. (the platform, not the slide)

it's from ikea, so i thought they would certainly have something like my stool there. but on my last trip to småland i found i was out of luck. undaunted i kept searching. nothing. and then recently i discovered john green's embrace and i think it's absolutely brilliant. the more time i spend looking at it the more i think of it as art. two simple pieces of bent ply with a cutout that allows them to be joined together like puzzle pieces. it's a stool, a table and even a small bookcase. and it even has the handles. brilliant.


john green lives and works in england, and try as i did i couldn't locate anyone who sells his work stateside. and as much as i would love to support this young designer, the shipping quote i got is nearly as much as the piece itself. so for now i'll just have to bookmark this one and hope his rising star brings him to america some day. either that or i may just have to learn how to properly bend plywood.


and if you'd like to see more of mr. green's design work check it out here.

rocket man

just taking a little break from my 5 days a week job today. later i'll be returning to mars to visit my kids. if you want to take the trip check me here.