Cape Cod

Man, the processing of these black & whites are all over the map!! Anyway, here are some more black & whites out of my albums. I figured I'd scan some more in before I put the albums away. Springhill Beach, East Sandwich, Massachusetts - 2005

I'm not sure but I think this is the door at The Hoxie House in Sandwich - 1989.

The sun was just going down when I took this, so I had to shoot the reflection more than the trees & their reflection. This was taken on Old County Road in East Sandwich. My parents live about 3/4 of a mile from here, and I used to walk Old County Road all the time when I was a kid. I wouldn't feel safe doing it now, though.

An abandoned building in West Barnstable, MA - 1987

Another "quintessentially Cape Cod" photo of the salt marshes behind Springhill Beach, E. Sandwich - 2005. My parents used to have a beach cottage on Springhill and I have many happy memories of playing on the beach, then crossing the dirt road and playing in the salt marshes. My dad sold the cottage in 1977 so as to finance my college fund.

This photo doesn't look as washed out in my album. It's an "artsy fartsy" shot that I titled "The Blizzard of '87". My coworkers and I were snowed in at Channel 58 in Hyannis, in Feb. 1987. About 12-15 of us spent the night huddled in the cold, powerless TV station, but we had a blast. Someone thought to go to the "package store" earlier in the day before the storm picked up, and got beer. (For those of you not from Massachusetts, you can only buy beer, wine and liquor at a package store, and never on Sundays).

There was only one landline phone that worked, and it was in the pitch dark basement. We went down there to use the phone to try to find a hotel with vacancy, and which was close enough for us to walk to, without dying in the blizzard. At one point, whoever was holding the flashlight pointed it at the floor, and what I saw were 3 pairs of feet and a beer bottle that one of my friends had set on the floor. I thought it'd make a great photo, so in the spring, I dragged Peggy, Jack and Jeff outside to recreate it.

Eye Candy

With great thanks to Val for making her Photobucket collection available!!!

Love those 80's acid washed jeans.

Gotta love Vincent as a Seattle Seahawk!!

Seeing the World in Black & White

I love to shoot black & white, and when I travel, I always have 2 cameras - one loaded w/ colour film (or a digital camera) and one loaded with black & white film. I love to shoot interesting architecture (esp. churches and cathedrals), old buildings, attic windows, the play of light & shadow, and anything geometrically interesting, like fire escapes. I have 2 huge photo albums of just my b&w work, so choosing pics to post was kind of hard, but here's a taste of some stuff I've done over the years: The Hatch Shell, Charles River Esplanade, Boston, MA - 1985 (I was in college when I shot this)

An old building in Wiscasset, Maine - 1989

Fort Point, San Francisco, California - 1991


Looking straight up the TransAmerica Pyramid, San Francisco, California - 1992

Ferns, West Berkeley, California - 1996

Thea Foss Waterway Bridge, Tacoma, Washington - 2000

The Beach at Point-No-Point, Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada - 2003

Victoria, British Columbia, Canada - 2004

San Francisco Open Your Golden Gate

The beautiful Golden Gate Bridge. I commuted over it for 4 years when I lived in Marin (to the North) and worked in San Francisco, and I never stopped noticing it. Here are some pictures I shot of the Bridge.

This first one was taken from the Marin Headlands. Our apartment was in the Richmond District, very close to the Bridge and the Ocean. We could clearly hear the fog horns at our place, and it always felt so comforting. We felt safe, wrapped in the shroud of fog, all snug in our apartment, with the various horns singing out - first the resonant one on the Bridge, then 2 short higher pitched blasts from the Marin side, and when there were extremely foggy conditions, a very loud, deep bass fog horn from Mile Rock (located one mile outside the Gate). We felt so isolated from the rest of the world, as if San Francisco was an island, especially in our quiet neighborhood. You could go out to the little store around the corner at night and see the fog blowing up Geary Boulevard in the street lights.

One lazy Sunday afternoon we heard the fog horns start up, and we jumped in the car and raced over the Bridge to the Marin Headlands and we weren't disappointed!! This is another semi-foggy day, and I shot this from Fort Point on the San Francisco side, under the Bridge.

Here's a black and white, also taken from Fort Point, of the Bridge structure.

Another black & white of the Bridge soaring above Fort Point.

And this one I posted in December, of sunrise on Christmas Day 1991 or 1992, taken from the Marin Headlands.

Did you know?

• From 1775 to the 1840's, the straight was called "Boca del Puerto de San Francisco", or "Mouth of the Port of San Francisco.
• After the 1840's, John Fremont wrote in his memoirs that he would name the straight "The Golden Gate". The grasses on the Headlands and hills of the Bay Area turn bright gold in the summer months, so looking east from the ocean at the straight, it truly looks like a golden gate, esp. when Fremont saw it prior to the various cities being built.
• It's the second largest suspension bridge in the USA, after the Verrazano Narrows in NYC.
• The Bridge was completed in 1937, and is the engineering miracle of brainchild Joseph Strauss.
• Before there was a Bridge, the only way to get to Marin County and points north was to either take a ferry, or drive the long way around - south to San Jose, and then back north through the East Bay.
• The Bridge is not "gold", but International Orange. This is a common misconception. It's the straight entering into SF Bay that is "The Golden Gate".
• The fog forms because of the hot air rising off the land and the freezing cold waters of the ocean and SF Bay. That's why you can be standing in SF, looking across the Bay at Marin with blue sky all around, but a wall of fog between SF and Marin, with only the top points of the Bridge sticking up. You can watch the fog roll in, and then roll back out to sea. Sometimes you can be standing on the beach in bright sun and see the fog bank standing off shore, and then watch it barrel towards you in a matter of minutes.
• It's seen more than it's share of suicides....over 1,200 by this time I believe. The Bridge District wants to put up a suicide barrier but the Bay Area revolts against the idea every time it's mentioned.
• There's a moveable lane-barrier in the center, which allows for 4 lanes into San Francisco in the morning, and 4 lanes back north into Marin in the evening. The toll is now $5, going into SF only.
• It's been closed 4 times since it opened due to high winds. One stormy day in early 1996, I found myself on the ferry back to Marin because the Bridge was closed and I couldn't take my bus!! The ferry ride was a fun alternative and I'd take it from time to time in nice weather. I'd just pick up the bus at the Larkspur Landing ferry terminal.
• The speed limit of 45 mph and no lane changing are strictly enforced, to try to lessen the chance of deadly head-on collisions (something that happens frequently).
• There is a crew of about 30 or so workers under the Bridge every day, performing maintenance, earthquake retrofitting and painting. The painting never ever stops because of the corrosive salt water and air. These brave men have been instrumental in saving people who try to jump to their deaths, often risking their own lives to grab them as they fall. Sometimes you see them climbing up the swooping cables to the top of the towers. I'm not sure I'd be brave enough to do that, even though you are roped to the guide cables.
  
  
  
  
  

Congratulations Brian!!

I just want to offer my sincere congratulations to my hubby on the bonus and raise he received today! He hasn't even been a Weyco a year yet!! I love you honey!!! Buy me somethin' pretty! lol The above is a picture of Weyco's corporate offices in Federal Way. Brian doesn't work in this building, but in one of the satelite buildings on the Weyco campus.

Wasted Days and Wasted Nights

Where did my energy go? You ask anyone and they will tell you that I used to be one of the most energetic people around. I used to do the Tae Bo tapes every morning before work. I used to clean the house religiously every Sunday. I used to crank out mass quantities of jewelry and crafts on the weekends. I used to do yardwork. I used to wash the dishes before going to bed. I used to have stamina.

I had all these plans for the long weekend. I got out of work at noon on Friday and I did errands and planned to come home and do some crafts. Instead I vegged on the couch all afternoon watching TV w/ Brian, who is still deathly ill. Saturday was absolutely gorgeous; about 62 and sunny. Everyone was outside doing chores and soaking up the sun. I managed to go to Puyallup and pick up a few things, then collapsed on the couch watching TV all day. I couldn't get warm, despite the weather and stayed under my blanket. Went to bed at 8 pm, woke up yesterday at 8 am. I figured cool, I had 12 hours of sleep, maybe I can actually get some stuff done today!

What did I do? Vegged on the couch all day under my blanket, then took a nap from 3:00 to 4:30. I tried to sit upright at my craft table but I was too bone weary. Brian slept all day too but he's sick. Last night I went to bed at 9:45, the lunch AND dinner dishes still piled in the sink. What is wrong with me? Why have I turned into such a slug?

The last time I spent every spare minute sleeping was the year my dad died, and I chalked it up to emotional and mental stress. Could the situation at my job over the past 6 months be catching up with me?

Anyways, just wanted to wish everyone a happy Mardi Gras!! Laisser le bon rouleau de temps!! And a happy Chinese New Year! Gung Hay Fat Choy! (or as Brian says, "Suck my fat toy").

Kissin' Cousins

Being from a rather large Italian family, I have about a million cousins. OK, maybe not a million, but a lot. The 2 with whom I am the closest are Sharon & Diane, as they are the only ones closest to me in age. Their grandfather and my grandmother are brother & sister. They lived first in Colorado, then Long Island, and spent every vacation on the Cape at their grandparents' house. My parents and I lived down the street from my Aunt & Uncle, so I basically grew up with Sha & Di. In 1977, they moved up to the Cape, to the next town over from me, so they went to a different high school, but we saw each other all the time.

This is Diane, me and Sharon, taken in about 1968 or 1969, sitting on the fireplace at my Aunt & Uncle's house. Di is 6 months younger than me, and Sha is 1 year older than me, so that'd make Di and I 4, and Sharon 5 or 6. They are truly the closest thing I ever had to real sisters. The poodle belonged to their grandparents. There is one detail about this photo that hasn't changed - both Sharon and Diane are wearing shoes, but I'm in my stocking feet, as usual. Some of my favourite memories of the 3 of us are taking turns singing Partridge Family songs on the picnic table in the summer, playing in the woods behind my parents' house in the fall and winter, building forts, swimming in their grandparents' pool, going to the beach, hanging out in the field at my parents', ice skating, riding bikes & skateboards, playing catch, walking on the railroad tracks, playing at the cranberry bog, sledding, holidays, birthdays, Christmases and sleepovers at each other's houses, getting up a "game", which was a Western-themed and ongoing game we'd play all summer long, with cap guns, cowboy hats, vests, etc....gosh, I could go on and on with fave memories of spending time with them!!! When we get together, we laugh, A LOT. I never really minded being at "the kids' table" on holidays because we would have so much fun laughing that the grownups would yell in for us to keep it down.

My mom had this really pretty fabric Christmas table cloth she used to put on our kitchen table. Diane and I would get to laughing, and one of us would end up spraying hot chocolate out of our mouth and nose, so she stopped using the table cloth. She grew so weary of washing it every couple of days.

When Sha got married in 1989, I was so incredibly honoured to be invited to spend the night before her wedding in her hotel room with her, Diane and another friend, Dotty. Oh did we have a ton of laughs that night too!

This picture was shot on Christmas Day 1988, as the companion photo for the first one. This was the last Christmas I spent with my family before moving here.

We shot another picture of the 3 of us sitting on the fireplace in 2003, but my dad had just died and I was wearing a ratty pair of shorts & tshirt, and just not looking my best at all, so I didn't post it. I miss them so much, but we keep in touch regularly!

Vincent's Apartment

I got a google alert today, as most of you VDO gals probably also received, that Vincent and Carin sold their apartment. Well, now that we know EXACTLY where he lives, he's moving. This was the accompanying text to the article that listed the above photos, therealestatestalker:

SELLER: Vincent D'OnofrioLOCATION: Christodora House, 143 Avenue B, NYCPRICE: $2,600,000 (combined sale price)SIZE: 1,905 square feet (combined), 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms (combined)DESCRIPTION: Incredible opportunity to create the most gorgeous 3 bedroom combination apartment with direct Park, City, and Empire State Building Views from 12 windows, at the celebrated Christodora House, an incredible Landmark Pre-war Condominium.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Back in the day, Your Mama would have eaten glass and/or tortured your children to live in the Christodora House. As it turns out, it was Your Mama's Doctor Cooter who had the pleasure of living up on the 9th floor of this building back in the late 1980s before the East Village became infested with bankers and nannies.One of the first doorman buildings in the East Village and fronting the once squalid and fruit-cake filled Tompkins Square Park, Christodora House has long been a relatively expensive and elegant oasis in a sea of drugs, pitt bulls, and homeless folks. Of course, the last few years have seen the East Village turn into the Upper West Side, but that's another sad, sad story.

The building, originally built as a settlement house for the poor and converted to luxury condominiums in 1986, has a long history of celebrity dwellers including the notorious Iggy Pop. Currently, there are loads of successful arty farty types who maintain residences here such as photoreaslism painter Richard Estes and photographer/model Sigrid Rothe, but it appears Mr. D'Onofrio was the last of the real deal celebrities living up in this building.

Surely all the children are familiar with Mr. D'onofrio's freakily intense character on that obscenely ubiquitous Law and Order Criminal Intent program. This damn program is playing on at least two channels ev-er-ee time Your Mama turns on the boob-tube. There are times, when our medications aren't quite correct, that Your Mama gets to believing all these Law and Order shows constitute a sick collaboration between the entertainment industry and the government. Are they trying to scare the bejeesus out of us with all those shows about sexually abusing mommies and psychotic serial killers living next door? Or are they trying to scare the Jesus into us?And to make matters worse, this program regularly films out front of Your Mama's building in New York. So we have got to be regularly living with their trailers, electric cables, hot lights and bossy production assistants who think because they are holding a clip board and have a walkie-talkie strapped to their head they own the street.

Hunnies, one day Your Mama is going to haul off and and smack one of these assholes when they tell us to "please go around," or instruct us as to where it's okay for our bitches Linda and Beverly to do their durty bizness.Anyhoo, Your Mama digresses. Public records show the famously five-o'clock shadowed Mister D'Onofrio and the unfortunately surnamed wifey Catherine van der Donk purchased the two fifth floor apartments at Christodora House in 1998. Some insiders say their intention was to combine the two apartments, but for one reason or another, this never happened.

The listing, presented by Citi-Habitats' Danny Davis, describes one apartment as a 2 bedroom 2 bathroom and the second as a 1 bedroom and 1 bathroom. However a quick look at the floor plan does not show a second bedroom or a second full bathroom in the larger apartment.We're not sure what the story is with that. However, as all the children can see with extreme envy in their hearts, the larger of the two apartments contains a baronial sized living room with the original paneling and massive fireplace. Mister Davis was somewhat miserly with the photographs so we're just going to have to use our imaginations when thinking about what this impressive room actually looks like.The listing agent suggests these apartments could easily be combined into a sprawling 3 bedroom, 3 bathroom apartment with 50 feet on the park. If any of our architect readers out there would like to give a crack at re-designing the layout of this apartment, Your Mama would be happy to post the winning design and then forward it on to the new owner.

The D'Onofrio apartments were being offered separately and together. The combined asking price was $2,395,000. According to Mister Max Abelson, they were both purchased by the same buyer for $2,600,000, which indicates to Your Mama there were multiple bids.

No word on where the D'Onofrios might be moving, but we do have a mutual friend in common who is also in the television bizness who recently sold off their East Village townhouse and moved West to Los Angeles. Perhaps their move marks the beginning of a westward trend. Although with Law and Order still filming at an alarming pace, we don't expect this couple to relocate to Los Angeles any time soon. But, perhaps they are considering life after Law and Order (if there is such a thing) and know something about that time frame we don't.

Be my Valentino....I mean Valentine

Happy Valentine's Day, esp. to all my V-Love Gals!!!

Could I be more relieved?

Bossman canceled his luncheon meeting today with that other law firm!!!!

Yesterday at lunch, in my typical, blunt Sagitarrian way, I blurted out, "So are you going to keep us in the dark about your little lunch meeting tomorrow or do I have to start looking for a new job?" He thought my question was hilarious. He said that he was just going to placate himself that he made the right decision in not wanting to move to another firm, to stop worrying, no need to start looking for a new job, etc. I was so relieved. Still though, the fact that he was still going bugged me, even though he said, "...and even if I did move, I need staff" so it sounds as though his plans did include me. But I am a creature of comfort and habit. I like my casual environment, I like the flexibility this job affords me, I don't want to start answering to a chain of command and be forced to wear business clothes/shoes (that I don't even own), be made to leave at 5:00 p.m. or be given a set amount of sick and vacation time.

This morning, I was at the copy machine and I hear him make a call and cancel the lunch date. He told the guy that it would be a waste of time, he'd already made up his mind that he doesn't want to leave. Of course my off-key rendition of "Thank you very much" was a bit obnoxious for 7:30 a.m., but I was absolutely thrilled that he canceled.

Phew!

Klunk!

And that would be the sound of the other shoe dropping.

As most of you know, my job's been in a bit of flux since the fall, when one of my bosses was appointed as a Court Commissioner. Steve was all gung-ho to get someone in here to rent Robyn's office. However, with the holidays, he kept putting off his decision. I haven't inquired as to what his plans are because I prefer to play Cleopatra Queen of Denial. Steve's whole thing is that as long as we have enough money to operate for another month, then we are OK.

Well today, when he went to Court, my coworker told me that she overheard him making arrangements to have lunch with some people from a large firm in downtown Tacoma, since one of their partners retired and one of the lawyers there has been after Steve to talk to them. This lunch is taking place tomorrow. I, of course, went into weeping mode, and promptly called my doctor to have her increase the anti-depressants that I've been weaning off of for the past 2 weeks (and unsuccessfully too, I might add).

If he takes the job, chances are I will be left out in the cold because staff will be provided for him. I love this job and I do not want to have to leave. I love my boss, my work, the flexible schedule, casual dress code, etc. This job is not "just a paycheck" for me. I don't mind looking for work when it's on my terms, but when my hand is forced, I do not deal with it well. Of course if I'm laid off I can draw unemployment, and I would like to take a little bit of time off because I've been working steadily since I graduated from college nearly 21 years ago. The most time I've ever taken off was about a month when we moved to California and again when I lost a job in early 2001, shortly before I started here.

So think good thoughts for me because I really need them.

Victoria - Olde and New

I've been collecting old postcards of places I've lived and/or visited since Junior High, maybe even earlier. I always make it a point to check out the postcards at antique shows and shops. Last weekend, I went to the antique show in Puyallup and for the first time, I found old linen postcards of Victoria, British Columbia. I am absolutely in love with Victoria; I almost feel about it as I do San Francisco and in fact, the 2 cities are very similar, except in Victoria, it's got a much more British flair.

One of the city's best known places is the Empress Hotel. I was shocked to see this postcard because the Empress is about twice this size now. This particular postcard came from someone's personal collection because the author dated it "October 28, 1910". I shot this picture of the Empress Hotel in 2004. It wasn't until I saw the above postcard that I noticed the difference in the roof colour, showing the original old part. The Empress is an absolute wonder!!! They serve high tea each day at 4:00, although I've never been because I just don't travel with dressier clothes, and there is a dress code for high tea. I have walked through the Empress and it's gorgeous.

Here's an old postcard of the British Columbia Legislative Buildings, aka Parliament. Victoria is the capital of British Columbia. Here is the part that confuses people: Vancouver is on the mainland of BC, and a lot of people make the mistake thinking that Vancouver is the capital. Victoria is located on Vancouver Island, accessable by ferry from Washington State and mainland BC (and just to confuse people even more, there's also a Vancouver, Washington, which is in the southern part of the state, across the river from Portland, Oregon).

Judging from the cars parked along the street, I'd have to guess this postcard dates to the 1920's or early 1930's.

I can sit and look at both the Empress and Parliament all day. I can't stop shooting photos of them, even though I have tons. It's gotten to be a joke - before I leave for my annual trip to Victoria each year, Brian says, "And try not to come home with 20 rolls of pictures of the Empress and Parliament..."

I wish the sky was darker in this picture, but overall I was pretty pleased with the photos I shot of Parliament at night, considering I was standing as still as possible w/ the shutter open.

I can't tell what year this postcard could be from, but the Empress has already been expanded and there's ivy on the front. But Inner Harbour is still undeveloped. Now there's a bunch of boat slips and piers, and a waterfront walkway where artists and musicians set up in the summer.

Here's a great shot of undeveloped Inner Harbour and Parliament. The ferries still come into Inner Harbour where that large boat is, on the right.

This is Inner Harbour today. That building with the columns is a museum, and the hotels have built up around it.

Criminy!

The hoops I had to jump thru to be able to get back to my new blogger account.

Note to google: IF IT AIN'T BROKE, DON'T FIX IT!

"Don't tell me this town ain't got no heart...."

I lucked out big time when I was hired as a receptionist at a law firm in downtown San Francisco in 1990. I had left my TV career behind when we moved and I was kind of floundering around. I worked for a year for a small construction company in my neighborhood, trying to gain office skills. I applied for the job at Burnstein & Walker, and at my interview, I hit it off with the office manager so she invited me back for a second interview with the attorneys. They were concerned that I had no experience. I told them that I was a very fast learner, and if they would just give me the chance to prove myself, they wouldn't be sorry. By the time I got home, there was a message on my answering machine that I could start right away. This was during the recession in the early 90's, and that firm literally received over 200 resumes for that one position.


I worked on the 6th floor of the Monadnock Building, and our suite is clearly seen in this picture. The lobby is floor 1, so just count up from there. We didn't have the entire 6th floor facing Market Street, but about half of the windows (from the middle to the right side) were ours. Every year Brian and I would go to the office to watch the annual Gay Pride Parade from my suite. The year my firm relocated over to Berkeley, 1996, my dear friend Jim (who is still the building engineer) let us come back to the now-empty suite to watch the parade, and in fact, we ended up having a huge Pride Day party up there that year, with about 30-50 people, food, drinks..... including a 6'5" transgender named Bridgit who was wearing a yellow bikini, playing electric guitar while rollerblading through the office. It was truly a "Tales of the City" day. After that, Jim would let us use the office space on the 3rd floor because there was a nice, wide ledge outside the windows so we could sit on the ledge and watch the parade.

When the 49ers won the Superbowl in 2005, the parade came right past our building too.

I couldn't find any pictures of the ceiling murals on line, but inside the front doors are these fantastic paintings along the arched ceiling, which incorporate famous San Franciscans and Northern Californians from days past, like slain Supervisor Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone, who were shot in cold blood in 1978 by disgruntled Supervisor Dan White (the one who made "the twinkie defense" famous), environmentalist John Muir, vaudevillian Lotta Crabtree and Sir Francis Drake who made landfall in the Point Reyes area of Marin, on his ship The Golden Hinde. The famous [Sheraton] Palace Hotel is next door.

The Monadnock Building has a very interesting place in San Francisco history. In 1906, the Monadnock was under construction and nearly completed. Then the City was rocked by the famous Quake of '06, and the Palace Hotel was all but destroyed; opera singer Enrico Caruso had given a concert the night before and was staying at the Palace that night. Legend has it that after the quake, he was so frightened that all he could do was throw open his windows and sing (Caruso never returned to San Francisco). The Monadnock, however, stood proud. After the quake, fires raged for days and flattened all of downtown. Not knowing what else to do, the men started dynamiting what buildings were still standing to create a fire break. The Monadnock refused to come down.

Here's another shot of it. The Palace Hotel is to the left, and a destroyed building is to the right.
Needless to say, I felt very confident that if we ever had another huge quake while I was at work, I'd be completely safe.

This is Lotta's Fountain, across the street from the Monadnock. The fountain was donated to the City in 1875 by Lotta Crabtree. See that intersection behind the fountain? In 1991, I was nailed in the crosswalk by a car running a red light on Kearny Street. I was trying to catch my bus on Geary and this dude in a big old American car just skidded right into me. I picked myself up, ran to my bus, and grabbed a seat. Then, and only then, did the massive pain kick in. I was bruised from hip to ankle on my left leg, my left hand was badly bruised across the palm and my wrist & thumb were sprained as well. I remember an old lady getting on the bus after me and saying, "My goodness dear, are you OK?! Why didn't you stay? That man in the car is absolutely sick about hitting you!"

Needless to say, my boss was furious with me for not staying on the scene and going to the hospital, because he could have gotten a great settlement for me since the guy did run the red and I was in a crosswalk. But all I could think about was getting home, and how would I get word to Brian what happened, and how terrified he'd be if he got a call from the SFPD telling him his wife was rushed to the hospital!!!

These are extremely recent photos of the renovated fountain which was completed for the 100th anniversary of the '06 quake in 2006. The fountain did not look like this when I worked in SF, it was made of dull brownstone and usually had trash thrown in the fountain basins. After the '06 quake, many families used Lotta's Fountain as a meeting point, and every year after that at 5:17 a.m. on April 16, survivors would gather at the fountain to mark the anniversary. When we lived there, only about 12 old timers would show up, and those numbers dwindled with each passing year.

The Palace Hotel next door to the Monadnock was renovated in the late 1980's and is a wonder to see!

I was so incredibly fortunate to have worked right in the heart of San Francisco for 6 years. Every day at lunch, as long as the weather was good, I'd walk all over the place, usually shooting photos. The City is only 7 miles x 7 miles, so it's very walkable (that is if you can hack the hills). I could walk to Union Square, Chinatown, the Ferry Building, the Psychedelic Shoppe, and even take the bus to City Lights Bookstore in North Beach and walk back to my office in my lunch hour. On summer solstice each year, the City celebrated "World Music Day" and musicians would set up on both sides of Market Street for many blocks and play all day. You name a kind of music, and it was there: Folk, rock, drums, African, 60's, electronica, even a couple of groups from the Andes. During Pride Week, there'd be rainbow flags hanging from every single light post up and down Market Street from the Ferry Building to City Hall.

To quote the famous Tony Bennett song, I left my heart in San Francisco.

It's only Monday and I can tell it's gonna be a rough week. To quote from "Airplane": "Looks I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue".

Seriously though, I am in the process of weaning off the anti-depressants that were prescribed for me when my dad died in 2003. Back then I definitely needed them, because I was going down that dark road of not wanting to leave the house and sleeping all the time. I'm still under a lot of stress, but these days, who isn't, right? I'm kind of tired of taking them. It's getting to the point where I forget, and if I go 2 days without them, I get all weird and disassociated. Sort of like the episode where Mr. Mackey takes drugs in "South Park" and his head flies around town like a helium balloon. Anyway, I'm on week #2 of the step down and I gotta tell ya, I'm choking up at the stupidest things. TV commercials, episodes of shows I've seen a thousand times, songs that aren't sad, the adorable puppies in "The Puppy Bowl" yesterday. I cannot even imagine what it must be like for a junky to quit hard drugs.

I'm not the world's most patient person on the road. OK, I have road rage. There. I said it. But today.....let's just say that it's a good thing I didn't have a rocket launcher because I would have left a 22 mile trail of carnage between Bonney Lake and Tacoma this morning. I get to work and it's 7:15 and the fucking phone starts ringing off the hook. With the high-maintenance clients too, of course. I haven't even gotten my computer booted up yet and I can feel my blood pressure rocketing upwards. There was nothing I could do to keep the contempt and disdain out of my voice as I answered the phone in such a way that they had to know I couldn't care less that their ex did something scandalous over the weekend, and I was very pissed off that they disturbed me.

If tomorrow starts off anything like today, I am going back on the anti-depressants because I gotta tell ya, I scare myself.

So, I leave you with "The Woman's Prayer"

So Far Today I Am Doing All Right.

I have not Gossipped, Lost my Temper

Been Greedy, Grumpy, Nasty, Selfish or Self-Indulgent.

I have not Whined, Cursed or Eaten Any Chocolate.

However, I Am Going to Get Out of Bed In a Few Minutes,

And I Will Need A Lot More Help After That.

Estimated Prophet

People sometimes ask me what my favourite Grateful Dead song is. It's really hard to pick just one because I have so many, but the first song that always comes to my mind first is "Estimated Prophet".

Last night Brian and I decided to watch a Grateful Dead DVD, of a Shoreline Amphitheatre concert on June 16, 1990. It so happens that we were at that show, and through pure luck, we'd received 8th row tickets from the Dead's mailorder. We were so excited for the show and we had our list of "I hope they play" songs. The Dead never played the same show twice, ever. They had such a vast repertoire of songs, and the only thing you could count on at each show was "drums/space" during the second set, and if it was a Saturday night, they'd do "One More Saturday Night". Other than that, it was a crapshoot what you'd get to hear.

We'd moved to San Francisco during the summer of 1989, right after we got married. We were so poor that we couldn't even afford cable TV for over a year. We both started out making like $6 an hour, and if it wasn't for the savings I'd built up when I was working at the TV station in Boston, we'd have been in a world of hurt. We bought cheap food, and Brian was the master at making fantastic dinners using cream of mushroom soup, pasta, chicken, rice, etc. In fact, we even bought generic beer. I saved an empty can - it's all white and in big black letters, it says "Beer". I bought all my clothes at the used clothing stores in Haight Ashbury and the Ashby Flea Market in Berkeley; all of which were those hippie skirts from India. But we ALWAYS had money for Dead shows. It wasn't even a question. We spent all of our money on tickets to see the Dead or Jerry Garcia Band. By June, 1990, we'd been to a ton of shows, including our first New Years Eve Show. We were about 2 weeks away from getting to meet Jerry Garcia and Bobby Weir at a benefit. Life was good. We were poor, but we were living the San Francisco Deadhead dream.

So anyway, that night we sat 8th row, they did Brian's fave "China Cat Sunflower/I know you Rider", and I had my fingers and toes crossed for "Estimated Prophet" and I was in 7th heaven when they started to play it.

I'd fallen in love with San Francisco on a trip I took with my friend Charlene after I graduated from college in 1986. I wanted to move there. San Francisco felt like home. In 1987, I took another trip out there by myself but stayed with an aunt and uncle. I fell more in love with the City by the Bay. During 1987, I was making the transition into being a Deadhead. I was listening to WZLX, a great radio station out of Boston and they would play Dead songs from the albums that no one else played. I mean, everyone knows "Truckin'" and "Touch of Grey", but 'ZLX played "Eyes of the World", "Friend of the Devil", etc. They even had a show on Saturday nights called "Dead Ahead" and for 2 hours they'd play live and album cuts. I was working at Channel 56 in Boston, living on my own in a great little studio apartment in East Sandwich.

I still wanted desperately to move to San Francisco, but I wasn't quite sure how to go about it. The Dead are from the Bay Area, and I knew it was Deadhead Central out there. I needed to be close to my new fave band. This was in the days before the internet, so researching a move like that was going to take a lot more creative thinking on my part. My family thought I was insane. I'm an only child and the thought of my moving 3,200 miles away to the opposite coast made my parents crazy. Everyone said there was no way I'd be able to do it. It was too expensive. Where would I work? Where would I live? How could I leave my home? My family and friends? They'd say they'd give it a few months and I'd come running back to Cape Cod.

One night, on "Dead Ahead", I heard a song that would change my life forever. That song was "Estimated Prophet".

The song starts:

"My time coming, any day, don't worry about me, no
Been so long I felt this way, I'm in no hurry, no
Rainbows end down that highway, where ocean breezes blow
My time coming, voices saying they tell me where to go.
Don't worry about me, nah nah nah, don't worry about me, no
And I'm in no hurry, nah nah nah, I know where to go.
California, preaching on the burning shore
California, I'll be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know I'm gonna shine.

My time coming, any day, don't worry about me, no
It's gonna be just like they say, them voices tell me so
Seems so long I felt this way and time sure passin' slow
Still I know I lead the way, they tell me where I go.
Don't worry about me, no no no, don't worry about me, no
And I'm in no hurry, no no no, I know where to go.
California, a prophet on the burning shore
California, I'll be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know I'm gonna shine."

I was stunned. The song reached deep into my soul and right then I knew, I was gonna do it. This was a sign. My favourite band in the world telling me I was going to go to California and I was gonna be OK, and sung by Bob Weir who I had an enormous crush on at the time. The next part of the song, when they do it live, reaches a frenzied crescendo, as Bobby practically screams the lyrics, and the band is just jamming like crazy:

You've all been asleep! You would not believe me!
Them voices tellin' me, they tell me you'll receive me!
Standin' on the beach, the sea will part before me
(Fire wheel burning in the air!)
You will follow me and we will ride to glory!
(Way up, the middle of the air!)
And I'll call down thunder and speak the same!!
And my work fills the sky with flame!
And might and glory gonna be my name, MY NAME!
And men gonna light my way!!!!!"

I think I burst into tears when I first heard those words. Then I knew, it was meant to be. I was gonna be alright and everything was going to work out just fine. I just needed to focus on my dream, set a time line, and go for it. So in 1988, I decided to subscribe to the San Francisco Examiner Sunday paper. It got to me a week late, but at least I could get a feel for employment and the cost of apartments, learn the area, keep up on the news. I started saving my money like crazy. Whenever I would think that I couldn't possibly make such a move, or people would say that there was no way I'd leave my high-paying job at Channel 56 to chase a pipe dream, I'd listen to "Estimated" to keep me on track. In the summer of 1988, I decided to take a 3 week trip to California, spending most of that time in SF. I asked my dad to come with me, because I wanted at least one of my parents to see that the City was fantastic, safe and to check out neighborhoods with me. I'd already decided I wanted to live in the Richmond District, a small neighborhood in the western end of the City, sandwiched in between Golden Gate Park, the Presidio and Ocean Beach.

Of course I was scared, and I was trying to find someone to move with me. Holly wanted to, but she'd just started a great new job in Hyannis. Jef and I were dating off and on during this time, but I knew he couldn't leave because his daughter Alicia was only 7 at the time and he couldn't leave her. Brian and I became close friends during the winter of 1988/89, and I asked him to come with me and he said, "Yeah, sure, why not? I have nothing to hold me here!" And the proverbial die was cast.

After the whirlwind jam in live version of Estimated, they bring it down, nice and slow, set you back on your feet:

"My time coming, any day, don't worry about me, no
It's gonna be just like they say, them voices tell me so
Seems so long I felt this way and time sure passin' slow
My time coming, any day, don't worry about me, no
Don't worry about me, no no no, don't worry about me, no
And I'm in no hurry, no no no, don't worry about me, no. ...."

Even though the 1989 quake scared the shit out of both of us, there was no way we were leaving. Those were some really fun times, in the early 90's. We were young, poor and blissfully happy, going to shows, trading tapes, hanging out with all of our new Deadhead friends. I have no regrets.

Happy Birthday Pepper!

Little Pepper Pepperoni Puppington turns 6 on February 2! We actually don't know what her real birthday is. The information provided at the Humane Society said that she was 2 years old, so we picked a date for her birthday. She's my little pal and I take her with me when I do my errands on Saturday. She gets so excited when I say, "let's go!" She jumps around in circles and wags her whole back end, while giving me a huge grin and doing her "I want" whine. She puts her ears up so that she looks like she's wearing a nun's wimple, so we call her "Sister Bertrill" (from "The Flying Nun") when she does that. It's adorable.

Of course we've given her like a million nicknames: Beanie Weenie, Beans, Beebs, Snuggs,
Bubbles Magoo, Snufflebumpkins, Fleef (that one evolved from saying "flea flicker"), Fluppy, 'Roni Roodles (she loves mac-n-cheese), and well you get the idea.

Ever since the storms, she's been snuggling with me in bed at night. I always said I'd never allow a dog on my bed, but she's just too cute and sweet to resist. And it's been so cold that I appreciate the extra warmth!

One of her favorite things to do is beat up her little brother, who outweighs her by about 40 lbs. and runs way faster than she does. They are very comical, racing back and forth across the yard, around the trees, slapping at each other. Sagan absolutely adores Pepper, and we are certain that she likes him more than she lets on.

Sometimes I take her with me when I go to work, mostly on Fridays or if she has a vet appointment after work. My boss is not a dog-person, but he adores Pepper. He would always ignore my former boss' golden retriever when she'd bring him in, but he goes out of his way to pet Pepper. One year at Krissmiss, he gave me one of those 3' plastic bones filled with dog biscuits. Then I knew for sure that he loved her. She's the perfect office dog: she's quiet and obedient, and just sleeps on my floor or follows me around. Happy birthday little Beanie Weenie sweetie pie! We love you!

Punxsutawney Phil

Bryde did a great post in celebration of Imbolc, which is today, so I'll do one for Groundhog Day, which is tomorrow.

From Wikipedia: "Groundhog Day is a traditional festival celebrated in the United States, Canada and parts of Australia (particularly in South Australian, in the region in and around the capital city of Adelaide) on February 2. It is a cross-quarter day, midway between the Winter Solstice and Vernal Equinox.

In traditional weather lore, if a groundhog emerges from its burrow on this day and fails to see its shadow because the weather is cloudy, winter will soon end. If the groundhog sees its shadow because the weather is bright and clear, it will be frightened and run back into its hole, and the winter will continue for six more weeks."

Here in the States, the official groundhog is Punxsutawney Phil, from Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Here's the official website: http://www.groundhog.org/ He'll come out of his burrow at Gobbler's Knob tomorrow to make his prediction.

Punxsutawney held its first Groundhog Day in the 1800's and the first official trek to Gobbler's Knob was made on February 2, 1887.

Isn't he cute?


Punxsutawney is in Western Pennsylvania, but Gobbler's Knob is in Central PA.
This is a stuffed toy of Phil (yes, Brian, I want one). As for me, it's been a rough winter in the Pacific Northwest, so I wouldn't mind if Ol' Phil didn't see his shadow. However, now that we have the generator ready to go, I also wouldn't mind at least one really good storm!