Dad Down ...

My 83-year old dad is in the hospital with 2 malignant tumors, one on his kidney, one on his bladder. He was scheduled for surgery to remove them on May 15, but he has since developed a staph infection, and is in quarantine for 7 days. He seems to be responding to IV-fed antibiotics, so hopefully it's not a MRSA (drug-resistant strain of staph), and he'll be able to get back in the surgical queue, but it's all up in the air right now.

My 80-year old mom is freaking the fuck out. And my mom does not freak out. She's realizing the full force of the potential of losing my dad, who she's been with for 45 years, and is coming unwound. Plus, her friends all left Arizona for Utah yesterday, as is their summer routine, leaving her largely alone. So she's surrounded by empty houses, no friends, no prospect of going to Utah (which she loves), stuck in Sun City (which she hates), and my dad in the hospital. Since my dad's always taken care of all the finances (somewhat secretively ... the classic East Coast farmer mentality), she's struggling with how to pay a bill, or which bank account to use. She's having trouble getting answers out of the doctors, and it's clear from our conversations that she can't even process the answers squarely at this point.

This all came on my radar really abruptly (welcome to my stoic family), and I don't even know what to think about it at this moment, except that I gotta get down there and take care of my mom. I'm working on getting DSL installed in their house so I don't suffer under the dial-up, and I'll be able to continue working apace. I have no idea what my timing is right now for going or coming back ... or what's going to happen.

Yay ... good times.

Alchemy

San Francisco isn't much of an art buying town. Art creating? Yes. Art appreciating? Certainly. Art buying? Not so much. If an artist wants to make a career of it, the sad fact is that they have to leave the Bay Area, and head to one of the big art cities: New York, LA, Chicago, or Miami. San Francisco runs a distant (and depressing) 5th.

As unfortunate as that may be, it shouldn't be too surprising, really ... more than anything, San Francisco has a storied tradition of bleeding edge creativity, rugged entrepreneurship, and flying in the face of the norm ... oftentimes swinging wildly at it. Our strength is thus in underground and emerging artists who aren't aiming at the mainstream unless they're doing so through a set of crosshairs.

When that's combined with the laid-back attitude and studied casualness for which the Bay Area is known, it can be understood why audacious spending on a scale commensurate with serious art collection just doesn't happen here. San Franciscans value one another more for what they create than the price tag of the art they hang on their walls.

What the Bay Area needs is an innovative structure for its art market that takes this reality into account, and works with it -- augmenting its strengths and offsetting its weaknesses -- to enable Bay Area artists to make a semblance of a living creating exactly the art they want to create, without having to compromise their vision. Otherwise, artists whose work deserves to be seen, and whose voices need to be heard, will forever while away their days as your neighborhood barista.

I'd like to see this new market become a reality, and to that end, I've been curating art exhibitions for a variety of events featuring an eclectic mix of emerging artists, styles and media. The most recent was part of False Profit's Alchemy, an interactive art event at San Francisco's CELLspace. It hosted over 600 attendees, all of whom seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves as they took part in the various interactive aspects of the evening. The gallery featured a variety of oil paintings, pen and ink drawings, photography, collage, print-making, sculpture (works in steel, vinyl and cement), video, and an interactive site-specific installation. The represented artists ranged in age from 21 to 50+.

It was great working with the smart, driven folks at False Profit, and to have the opportunity to exhibit a strong showing of emerging artists to an appreciative crowd. Now ... to just get that crowd to put their money where their appreciation is ....

The Crucible's "Firebird" Fire Ballet

I just wrapped up stage management duties for a two-week run of The Crucible's latest fire ballet, this time it was their take on Stravinsky's Firebird.

I say "take" loosely, of course, since I have a feeling the traditional presentation of Firebird didn't include disco, funk, fire, a stunt motorcyclist, a flaming tutu, and an actual (not a prop) Pontiac Firebird being flown onto the stage. Yep, for reals.

It's always a good time working on the Crucible's productions. You missed this one? Sucks for you. Big mistake. Next time, go. Good cause, good show, good time ... you won't be left wanting for "You have got to be kidding me, they did not just do that. Good lord, they did just do that."

Big props to the Cru crew and their raging talents, constant innovation, and big hearts.

Yuri's Night

Billed as the annual celebration of Yuri Gagarin's being the first human shot into space (the first terrestrials sent were fruit flies ... followed by a dog, which died a panicked, painful death within hours of launch ... brutal, but I digress), Yuri's Night World Space Party is a collection of 198 parties taking place in 51 countries on 7 continents around the world on April 12th. The Bay Area, certainly no slouch when it comes to parties, stacks the deck by throwing it at the birthplace, home and retirement community of awesome: NASA's Moffett Field.

If you're lame, like me, and get your tickets late, like I did, you really take it in the pooper. At $50 a pop, that's a tall order for getting your money's worth. At the very least, there had better be singing frogs and free-flowing booze and mile-high porn if I'm shelling out $50. Sadly, none were in attendance. And yet ...

It was way cool. Long story short, Yuri's Night was simply the closest thing to Burning Man off playa. It was like somebody had taken the coolest parts of Black Rock City (the art, the scientific innovation, the music, the interesting smart people), combined it with long beer lines, and paved it.

Instead of artists slaving away on large-scale art installations all year long, Moffett Field's freakishly large, awe-inspiring buildings, mongo planes and gigantic signs warning of various ways you can be killed more than provided the recommended daily allowance of WTF? Plus, looking around and seeing a NASA logo when you've got a head full of whatever (and many seemed to, I might add)? That's pretty cool.

Next year, check it out. Get your tickets early.

Hillary Is Officially Pathetic

Today was the Pennsylvania Democratic Primary. Hanging on to any shred of hope, against the odds and all evidence to the contrary, Hillary Clinton remains determined to stick it out and "fight". Because she's "a fighter".

*sigh*

Hillary has become that girl at the prom who hasn't quite gotten the clue that nobody wants to dance with her. She moves in a personal fantasy world, determinedly oblivious to the fact that nobody's going to make out with her tonight ... she keeps trying to talk to different boys, smiling expectantly. Now she's trying to get in a limo to the after party, while the people inside are making quick excuses that there's no more room in the car, Hill, but she just knows she can fit!

Barack, the nice kid, who had spent all school year being kind to her, now sits in the corner of the limo, uncomfortably half-smiling toward her before looking down at his shoes as the doors of the limo close and it pulls away, leaving her standing at the curb.

She's that girl. Nobody wants to remember that girl, and the suffering she brought upon herself. Because we're reminded of the suffering we wrought upon ourselves through our complicity.

The Pope Goes Shopping

On his first trip to North America, Pope Benedict
took some time out to do some shopping.

Sorry. I couldn't help it. Yes, I offended you.
If it makes you feel any better, I offended a lot of people.

Got Torch? No, You Didn't.

Somebody asked me the other day why there should be political protests of the Beijing Olympics, rather than leaving them be as a sporting event. Short answer: opportunity and attention. When the eyes of the world are on a country with such an abysmal human rights record, particularly when they're attempting to bolster their global image, it's a unique opportunity to shed light on the other side of the story.

The Olympics have been politicized ever since Hitler refused to put a gold medal around Jesse Owens' neck at the 1936 Olympic games in Berlin. Appropriate or not, it's a world stage like no other.

The thing to scratch your head about, if anything, is that America has absolutely zero moral right to call the Chinese out for human rights abuses (we're living on Native American land, don't forget, while they're living on reservations if they weren't eradicated, and people are currently whiling away their days at Gitmo as I type), but nonetheless we still have the moral responsibility. Protests like this are likely to spur people in power to put more pressure on the Chinese government in ways individuals simply can't.

As for the San Francisco torch run itself, fearing massive confrontations, the powers that be decided to pull a full-blown bait-and-switch, publishing a route, saying it might change, then changing it "at the last minute". And boy what a ruse ... elaborate, expensive, convincing, and very disappointing for the people who really wanted to see it. They did an excellent job of it, but I shudder to think of the cost.

Admittedly, it was smart to deceive everybody in that a) the protesters got to protest, b) the torch got to run, c) the cops had significantly fewer heads they needed to crack, and d) San Francisco suddenly became a big "where the fuck's the torch" game, pitting the media outlets' live coverage capabilities against each other in grand fashion. Everybody won, except those families and kids all dressed up and performing at McCovey Cove and down the fake torch route, waving flags, all happy and proud. Those folks? They got royally screwed. And that? Sucks.

Of course, undaunted, the protesters protested away ... and the media was there, awaiting the big confrontation with the very scary rows of tightly-wound riot police. Unfortunately for the protesters, they had to find other excuses to get violent ... which meant there wasn't any violence of note. According to the official reports, the total number of arrests was in the 10's or less, and violent confrontations about the same ... just some pushing and shoving.

But still, lacking an actual torch at which to aim their five zillion cameras, the media covered the protests instead, and everybody's message got out. So the City danced a nice little dance: they allowed free speech, without lighting the fuse of what was obviously a potentially explosive situation.

Interestingly, I was struck by the massive numbers of pro-Chinese supporters on the streets. Many were apparently bused in by the Chinese consulate and other pro-Chinese business groups, but many more came of their own accord. They all carried very large, very uniform Chinese flags, meaning they were supplied by an official source. To a one, these folks were all very, legitimately enthusiastic, which goes to show that patriotism is as binding as it is blinding. Hmmmm ... sounds famiiiiliar.

After it all went down, I listened to Mayor Newsom's post-mortem radio interview and I kept saying to myself over and over "bullshit". I believe he totally lied about it being a last minute decision to change the route as dramatically as they did because "the police couldn't guarantee everybody's safety". While I had thought (and still do) that it was a good decision overall, his statement angered me not only because it was utterly disingenuous and self-serving, but it was just an obvious lie.

There's no way the police can guarantee people's safety at any protest ... protesters are, by nature, angry, volatile and unpredictable ... you think SFPD isn't used to handling them? And there's no way they'd be able to make a split-second decision to magically reroute this whole phalanx of police and support vehicles to Van Ness and Pine (why there of all places, right?), creatively think to head up to the Golden Gate Bridge via Bay Street, and then whisk it along 19th Avenue right to the airport and outta town ... meanwhile magically securing this entire new route with the wave of a wand. Sorry, no. They had the bait and switch planned all along, and the original published route was an elaborate ruse from the get-go.

Why? The police don't do impromptu in the face of a predictable foe when they control the game, folks. They just. don't. The least Newsom could do is nut up and show us enough respect to tell the truth. I guess that's pretty naive, though. He knows it'll all blow over after the next news cycle and be forgotten.

And by the way, I'm actually a fan of the mayor ... I have friends in his administration, and they (including Gavin himself) have been good to me ... but he definitely just dropped a small notch in my esteem (I'm sure he's crying in his beer club soda). But alas, this is what ultimately happens the closer one gets to higher office.