Archive for January, 2009

03rd Jan 2009

Tilth and symphony night

M and I finally went to Tilth tonight and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Beyond just the “local and organic” fame of the restaurant, the most impressive part of the meal for me was actually the impressive service… perhaps the best service I’ve ever had in Seattle. And the January menu was lovely… you have your choice of all things as entrees or small plates, so if you want to sample many things, you get the chance. We very much enjoyed the perfect hanger steak, amazing albacore, rich celery root soup, tasty chickpea cakes, wonderful cauliflower, great homemade sodas (cranberry & mint, ginger & lemon, anise & cinnamon & starfruit!), and homemade marshmallows with infused pears to top it all off! We also enjoyed the root vegetable salad and the mixed salad, and the sablefish was okay but nothing to rave about. I’d happily go back someday. :)

Tilth
1411 N 45th St
Seattle, WA 98103
(206) 633-0801

After Tilth, we went went to Leo and Mae’s for symphony night at their place. Brady, Serena, and Heater were there too. We all dressed up, drank wines and chai and ate cheeses, and listened to the music flood over us with the candles flickering and the chandelier glowing. It was a fun, entertaining, low-cost, high-culture event. M and I have tickets to see the same show (Beethoven’s Ninth) performed live by the Seattle Symphony this Sunday. Should be great! :)

Posted in Dining Out, Seattle | Comments Off

07th Jan 2009

Snow days and social capital

Thought this blog post from Sightline was great! And the snow just keeps coming back and coming back and coming back…

Snow Days and Social Capital
Posted by Elisa Murray
12/22/2008 11:17 AM
Exploring when and how snowstorms build community.

Ballard Farmer’s Market (credit: Eric de Place)Do “snow days” increase social capital–the strength of ties to friends, family, and community? That’s something I’ve been wondering about the past few days, while hearing all kinds of serendipitous Seattle snow encounter stories.

Some are commute related: A stranded co-worker who was picked up at a bus stop on Aurora by a spur-of-the-moment carpooler headed downtown, and ended up having all kinds of connections with the other casual car-poolers; another coworker who, frustrated with the long wait at a Ballard bus stop, stuck out his thumb and was soon picked up by an SUV headed downtown. (His conclusion: Snow makes hitchhiking acceptable.)

Cars as toys. Some are neighborhood-related: Yesterday, my husband and I cross-country skied out our door onto what’s normally an arterial, then through several neighborhoods, meeting more people in an hour of city skiing than we had in a year of living here. A West Seattle colleague says she’s never had so much interaction with neighbors before–10 neighbors and 8 dogs ended up at an impromptu sledding party in front of their house.

Not surprisingly, if you Google “snow and social capital,” you don’t find much, though it does bring up a page on the Better Together website on 150 ways to build community. Tool lending libraries for things like snow blowers are one of the ways.

So in absence of solid academic research but in presence of numerous anecdotes, here’s my two-part hypothesis on snow and social capital.

Traffic circles — signs and sleds1. First, a snow day does increase social capital, especially if it occurs as a not-quite-disastrous but still localizing event. Eg, there aren’t severe power outages, and people can drive if they really, really wanted to but the incentive is strong to stay in the ‘hood and try other forms of transport, such as sledding, skiing, walking, and transit.

In addition, snow dramatically reshapes the landscape to one where pedestrians literally rule the roads–the boundaries between road and sidewalk are blurred and the critical mass, for once, is walkers (plus some sledders and skiers). (See Hugeasscity’s take on how snow helps people rediscover their legs.) This makes for a situation where you have all kinds of casual interactions with community members, which are exactly the kind that build social capital over time. (Having the big snow take place the Sunday before Christmas helps.)

And, because in a place like western Washington, this much snowfall is such an unusual, shared event, you automatically have a conversation starter for those interactions. People are snowboarding in the streets! Even normal encounters like going to the grocery have gone up a notch on the social capital scale. Folks take a little more time to ask their cashier how they’re doing, and to appreciate that they made it into work.

Perhaps it makes our communities a bit more like a “slow town.”
2. On the flip side, snow also exposes flaws in the social-capital potential of your neighborhood. Road becomes sidewalk

So while snow days make feet (and skis) a more viable form of transport, it can also exacerbate your ‘hood’s “unwalkability.” My husband’s parents, for example, are in their 70s and live in a house on a steep hill in Portland, Oregon, several miles from any kind of store. They were house-bound for a week before they finally convinced a taxi to come anywhere near their house. And they, of course, can afford a taxi. What about the folks who can’t?

As for us, our neighborhood is fairly bus-able and (mostly) bikable, but it’s at least a mile walk to any kind of grocery store or basic services. Not that’s it been a problem—we’ve been enjoying walking for our food for a few days now. But if we were older, less able, or lived a bit farther out, it would be a different story. Snow can also expose flaws in infrastructure priorities, as Bus Chick points out in her post on the icy-sidewalk issue.

It’s interesting to consider how this all plays out in a true disaster situation, where we not only can’t go far but are without power, heat, etc. My hunch is that that’s when we really capitalize on the social capital that’s been built over time. (My new goal is to start investing now.)

Those are my theories—based on several days of un-scientific observation. What are yours?

P.S. It’s also intriguing to think about other unusual, shared events that have upped the social capital quotient. A certain recent historic election comes to mind. So does the Red Sox winning the World Series. And so on. But it’s hard to beat snow for the local angle.

Posted in Environment, Seattle | Comments Off

14th Jan 2009

Now in Oakland

Am in the Bay Area for two weeks… promises to be fun as always. I’m here for a client in the east bay, staying in Oakland with Dawne and Daryll, and keeping busy with plans nightly. Gotta love having so many great friends in town! More soon… for now I’m off to bed. I’m working 5am-1pm for these two weeks… super great to be done with work by 1pm, but it sure takes practice going to bed early so I can be up by 3:45am. Hope y’all are well!

Posted in Travel | Comments Off

15th Jan 2009

California – 4 days down, 10 more to go

Well, I’ve done 4 days of my 14 on this particular business trip and I’m rather exhausted. Waking at 3:45am daily, on the way to work by 4:30am, at work by 5am. If I got 8 hours of sleep, I’d have to be in bed by 8pm, which just isn’t happening. So I’m rather tired, and keeping quite busy, but it’s okay. The alternative would be bitter, lonely, bored, and solo… just not as appealing. I’m rather arrive at work tired but content and happy, so I”m continuing on that plan.

Monday: Client dinner at El Torito, followed by hanging with Dawne and Daryll (my extraordinary hosts/friends we met in Namibia!)
Tuesday: Went to the gym, then movie (Yes Man), and Favorite Indian with Christine and Matt (coworkers)
Wednesday: Visit Cal Academy (the California Academy of Science) in their super hip environmental building then Thai food with Alan (traveler, grad student, friend I first met at a conference in Oklahoma)
Thursday: Nepalese food at Taste of the Himalayas with Dawne and Daryll

I’m rather burnt out on work (what with my layoff and all), so I am really looking forward to my weekend. Can I tell you how excited I am that M is coming to visit me? The rest of weekend together shall include:

Friday: Dinner with Antoun (friend of M) then off to meet M (who’s coming to SF to spend the weekend with me!)
Saturday: Adventure, then dinner with Scott, Crow, Ajit, Nan, and Wenice (college friends from TX)
Sunday: Adventure, then M and I do dinner with Dona, Dan, Kirby, Audra (friends of M)

I’m off now to do some last minute work on the database before tomorrow… G’night…

Tuesday: Favorite Indian Restaurant
Categories: Pakistani, Indian
1235 A St
Hayward, CA 94541
(510) 583-7550
www.favoriteindia.com

Wednesday: Lanna Thai Restaurant
Neighborhood: Outer Sunset
1245 Noriega St
San Francisco, CA 94122
(415) 665-8080
www.lannathaisf.com

Thursday: Taste of the Himalayas
Categories: Pakistani, Indian, Himalayan/Nepalese
1700 Shattuck Avenue, Suite A
Berkeley, CA 94709
(510) 849-4983
www.tasteofthehimalayas.com

Posted in California, Dining Out | Comments Off

18th Jan 2009

Fresh, the de Young, Golden Gate park, new friends, UT friends, and 2 birthdays

By the time Friday rolled around, I was very thankful for the weekend and for weekend plans. The night started early with Antoun picking me up at 5:30pm for a night out in Oakland. We had time for a long dinner at Mezze and then joined Kirby, Audra, Suga, and Switch for drinks at Luka’s. I had no idea they all lived or worked in the East Bay. Good times. Also rather fun to realize it was only my second time hanging out with the Kirby, Audra, Switch, and Suga crowd, yet it felt easy to just slip right in as a new friend. M’s flight was getting in just after 10pm, so I eventually said my goodbyes and headed into the city to see my boy.

M stays at the W Hotel San Francisco when he’s here for work, so I stayed with him at the hotel this weekend. It was my first time staying at a W… quite a fun experience to be in a fancy downtown boutique hotel. I think it’s one of the most creative and hippest hotels I’ve been in. (The other tie, not a chain, was an art hotel in Cape Town).

Saturday the gorgeous weather continued… I definitely enjoy having 70F and sunny weather in January! We started the day with breakfast at XYZ, followed by a walk to Union Square, where I introduced M to Fresh, one of my new guilty pleasures. I left with a bottle of scent to take home then we met up with Antoun and Dana for a day at Golden Gate Park. It was perfect weather for strolling around, checking out artists, admiring the Cal Academy again, and catching up. We eventually decided to visit the de Young Fine Art Museum that I’ve heard a lot about but never visited. The special exhibits were great… we spent much of our time in the Yves Saint Laurent exhibit as well as lots of time checking out the Asian Modern Art special exhibit. Maya Lin’s work was fantastic!

We had a quick stop at the mall on the way home and then went to dinner in the Mission where M got to meet a handful of my college friends for the first time. We saw Laura and Ajit, Nan and Mohan, Scott was in town from LA, and Wenice was in from Denver for her birthday weekend. I always hope to see locals (Ajit, Laura, Nan), but it’s been added unexpected fun to end up in town and realize Scott’s here as well. We’ve crossed paths on both of his recent SF trips when we both happened to visit at the same time. We at at Good Frickin Chicken… a dumb name for a Mediterranean place that actually had decent food (shawerma , kebab, falafel, etc). We then headed out to North Beach for Toby’s 30th birthday party at Kennedy’s (Irish Pub and Curry House) where we saw Kirby, Audra, Antoun, and Dana again.

It’s kind of funny to know schedules can be so full of friends in a city that’s not my own. It’s rather nice to show up in town for work and feel like there’s some community out here for me. It’s also rather nice to get some quality one on one time with my boy, so today we’re for a solo trip to the Presidio (Palace of Fine Arts and Golden Gate Bridge) before heading to a dinner party tonight at Dona and Dan’s place. Not sure what the next week or weekend holds for me, but I’m hoping for a balance of going out and hopefully a wee bit more sleep. :)

W Hotels SF
181 3rd St, San Francisco
Tel. (415) 777-5300

Fresh Inc
301 Sutter St, San Francisco
Tel. (415) 248-5349

de Young Fine Arts Museum
Golden Gate Park
50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Drive, San Francisco

Good Frickin Chicken
# 10 – 29th Street, San Francisco
(Corner of Mission & 29th)
Tel. (415) 970-2428
Fax (415) 970-1068

Kennedy’s Irish Pub and Curry House
1040 Columbus Ave, San Francisco
Tel. (415) 441-8855

Posted in California, Dining Out | Comments Off

19th Jan 2009

Still inspiring… words from Martin Luther King Jr.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Posted in Memories, Quotes | Comments Off

21st Jan 2009

Burning Man 2009

Just in case anyone was wondering… yes, I am currently planning to attend Burning Man again this year! M and I bought our tickets and I’m quite excited! :)

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22nd Jan 2009

Eating tour of the Bay Area…

I seem to have a basic pattern here, as most of us probably do. I work 8-10 hours a day, get dinner, then head to bed so I can be up at 3:30am. Happily, good company continues to abound and my dinners never get lonely.

Sunday: Cooked dinner with Dan and Dona, M, Kirby, and Audra
I made a lovely polenta with popped tomatoes, Dan grilled some jerk chicken, Dona made pomegranate jigglers and awesome chocolate chip cookies, and together they made a frozen shaved lettuce juice salad. (I’m sure there’s a better way to explain the salad… they juiced 6 lbs of lettuce, then froze the juice, then made shavings of it to serve in martini glasses at dinner. They also froze and shaved balsamic vinegar as a super tart topping. Throw in some sea salt and olive oil and it was a mighty bizarre and tasty frozen treat, though definitely not for the faint of heart).

Monday: Tapas with M and Jenny T
Ramblas
557 Valencia St
San Francisco, CA
(415) 565-0207

Tuesday: Ethiopian with Kirby, Matt, and Shaina
Cafe Colucci
6427 Telegraph Avenue
Oakland, CA 94609
(510) 601-7999
Dinner was followed by a viewing of the inauguration at Wendy’s place. (More on the inauguration later… for now you should know I thought it was amazingly beautiful, I watched it three times, and I cried throughout the day!)

Wednesday: Dinner in downtown Oakland with Antoun
B Restaurant & Bar
499 Ninth Street
Oakland, CA 94607
(510) 251-8770

Thursday: Cambodian food with Matt, Shaina, and Daryll
Battam Bang
850 Broadway
Oakland, CA 94607-4016
(510) 839-8815

Posted in California, Dining Out | Comments Off

23rd Jan 2009

Baby season begins again!

After a flurry of babies two years ago, it seems to be happenings again! Many congrats to my many pregnant friends! :)

  • Corrie and Mason, in Seattle, are expecting a little girl in March.
  • Kat and Steve, in Austin, are expecting a little girl in June.
  • Dieter’s old roommate Dena, and her husband Max, are expecting a baby boy due in July!
  • My brother Charlie and sis-in-law Stef, in Austin, are expecting their second (and final) baby at the end of July.
  • Dawne and Daryll, in SF, are expecting their first at the end of July.
  • And Frank and June, in Taiwan, are expecting their first baby (a boy!) around Aug 5th.

Posted in Baby | Comments Off

24th Jan 2009

“She put her arm around her and said there, there”

Samantha posted the link to this story. I’m a crying fool these days so I’m reposting…

She put her arm around her and said there, there
Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I was just on the 1 train, around 103rd street, coming up to work. The car was fairly crowded, and I stood in the middle, staring at the netherworld outside the windows. Two college-aged girls were behind me, angrily talking about the government nationalizing companies. Seated in front of me—kind of below me because I was standing—was a sixty year old Hispanic lady with white hair and glasses on.

The train stopped and the doors opened. A tall black woman next to the doors—who was perhaps muttering to herself—started to get off, but instead changed course and came over by me. She said something I didn’t catch to the Hispanic lady in front of me, who looked up.

Suddenly, she wound up and smacked the seated lady, with her open hand, across her face. Her glasses flew off. This is all happening in the fifteen seconds the doors are open in a station. The tall lady ran to the door, angrily yelled something I also didn’t catch, and then ran down the platform, disappearing. The doors shut.

The train was silent. “If I was a guy, I would have chased after them,” one of the girls arguing about the government said.

The lady looked up, in disbelief, looking different without her glasses. On the side of her nose, where the bridge of your glasses rest, there was a spot of blood where hers had cut her. Her glasses had landed in her lap, and she held them up, bent.

Her chin quivered and she cried, slowly at first, then sobbing. Everyone was quiet, the train rattling through the space between stations. She put her scarf to her face and cried like a child, her glasses clutched in her hand at her side. I thought about how beautiful the color of her white hair was.

So I wouldn’t startle her, I reached down and touched her hand, and she looked up at me. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m so, so sorry. That was terrible.” I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

She spoke a bunch of stuff in Spanish, quick and confused, that I didn’t understand at all. It sounded like: why did that woman hit me, I don’t know her at all, why, why would she do that? She put her scarf back to her face and cried. A black woman sitting next to her kept her gaze forward but shook her head in disbelief. She put her arm around her and said there, there, all the while still looking forward, as one does on a crowded train.

A white guy in a beret, with an authoritative voice and the look of a Navy Seal tapped me on the shoulder. “Did you see the guy who did it? What was that?”

“It was a lady who did it. She was like 60. She was standing right over there.” Everyone was listening to us, and the woman still cried. The woman next to her was still comforting her.

“It was a woman? Unprovoked?”

“She was over there. I think she was looking over here before it happened.”

“She knew her?”

“I—I don’t know. I didn’t see anything happen. I mean, we could have stopped her … but then what?”

“Nothing you saw. Yes,” he said gravely. Nodding.

At 116th I got off. Before the train stopped, I felt myself crying. I wiped my eyes and thought, No reason to cry, so stop. And I stopped. I stepped off and headed up the stairs. I thought about how there is sometimes no rational explanation for anything. Bad things happen to good people for no reason at all. Your entire life is a series of the times you got hit for nothing on the train, and, inevitably, the times you hit someone for no reason. It’s what happens, so you should expect it. If you try to understand it, you will not succeed. You will be wrong. I hope the poor lady on the train is feeling better. I wonder who she is.
Posted by: joshua / 2:04 PM

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25th Jan 2009

Bay Area wrap up…

My time in the Bay Area has finally come to an end… “and not a day too soon,” according to my great coworker Matt. :) I think we’ve done a good job on the project but are all ready to come home. I’ve continued to enjoy spending time with friends, old and new, even if my early work schedule often leaves me more tired than I’d wish. It’s still a little surprising to think I’ve had plans every night in this city for two weeks… and turned down many more generous offers for hikes, dress up balls, design events, dinner parties, and other socials. SF is starting to feel like a little home away from home… not surprising since I’ve spent about 6-7 weeks in the Bay Area over the last 11 months. Now that I’m laid off, though, that will be changing. No immediate plans for a trip down anytime soon… good thing I was able to squeeze in time with so many good folks over the past two weeks.

Friday: Peruvian food in the Mission with Matt and Shaina
Mi Lindo Peru Restaurant
3226 Mission St
San Francisco, CA 94110
(415) 642-4897

Saturday: Fish and chips at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk
Fish-N-Fry
www.beachboardwalk.com
400 Beach Street
Santa Cruz, CA 95060
(831) 423-5590

Saturday: Soup with Antoun at Chez Antoun
Dinner was followed by a viewing of the Texas cult classic filmHands on a Hard Body. Awesome.

Sunday: Brunch with Jeff, Tricia, and little Benji
Lynn & Lu’s Escapade Cafe
3353 Grand Ave
Oakland, CA 94610
(510) 835-570

Sunday dinner: Home cooked beef stew with my terrific hosts Dawne and Daryll
I had hoped to do some window shopping at Piedmont in Haight Ashbury, my favorite costume shop ever (right up there with Bizarre Bizarre in Austin), but was so tired after brunch I had about a half hour in H/A and then went home to take a nap. Imagine my delight waking up at 6pm to this delicious home cooked meal. Just delightful. Many thanks to Dawne and Daryll for giving me a home base for these two weeks of working and playing in the Bay Area.

Posted in California, Dining Out, Memories | Comments Off

25th Jan 2009

Celebrating Obama Day!!

Here’s to my president… President Barack Obama! I have so many wonderful emotions to recall, but need real time to get them written down. Hope. Relief. Optimism. Giddy joy. Utter delight. Lightness in my heart. Pride in a country that many friends thought couldn’t possibly elect a qualified candidate who happened to be black or a woman. Pride in the work my friends and I, and thousands of others, did to get him elected. Pride in who he is as a son of a Kenyan immigrant, a community activist, a father, a leader. Pride in who he can be for the US and for what he can represent in the world. Call me crazy, but I know I’m not alone in breaking down into tears during his inaugural address. I know he’s not perfect and know he’s not going to have all of the answers. But I’m continually impressed and inspired, and feeling so very hopeful that I trust him to go into this messy job with the right head and right heart.

Here’s President Barack Obama’s inaugural address:

My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land — a nagging fear that America’s decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America — they will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted — for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things — some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sanh.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions — that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology’s wonders to raise health care’s quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. All this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions — who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them — that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. Those of us who manage the public’s dollars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day — because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart — not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our founding fathers … our found fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience’s sake. And so to all the other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort — even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society’s ills on the West — know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world’s resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a generation — it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter’s courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent’s willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence — the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent Mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America’s birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

“Let it be told to the future world … that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive…that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it).”

America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children’s children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God’s grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Thank you. God bless you. And God bless the United States of America.

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27th Jan 2009

Lame news… unemployment doesn’t work for me

As though it couldn’t get any lower… it seems my unemployment benefits will be determined with a 7 month gap, giving me a super low weekly benefit rate. Apparently my 7 months at Notre Dame don’t count towards my “base year employment” because it’s a nonprofit. I’m unclear as to why some non-profit employees (like people who work for ACT Theater) get unemployment and other non-profit employees (like me) don’t qualify. Happily, I have a few Cascadia hours in there as well so I’ll still get something. It’ll just be significantly lower than it should’ve been with the 7 month gap in income. Arg. So. Not. Fun.

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28th Jan 2009

Tried tidbit bistro last night…

M and I did dinner last night at tidbit bistro, a cafe just off the Roanoke exit on 10th and Miller in Capitol Hill. I heard great things about it during their 3-for-$30 promotion and we tried it out last night. I was excited about the tapas idea, but most things had an Italian bent (ie too much gluten). My gnocchi was fantastic, my chicken a bit too greasy, and the chocolate mousse quite tasty. Mez loved his beef stew. I’m not rushing to go back again, but it was acceptable if you’re looking for something in the Cap Hill/Eastlake neighborhood. Dinner conversation was a bit depressing, considering the current state of affairs, so I admit that may have added to my lack of interest in the meal.

tidbit bistro
www.tidbitbistro.com
2359 10th Ave E
Seattle, WA 98102
Cross Street: E. Miller St.
(206) 323-0840

tidbit bistro writes…
Tidbit Bistro has the locals buzzing, from all things tapas to a line up of grappa. Italian and Spanish influences are given a modern flair, resulting in a European experience in Capitol Hill. Tidbit’s tapas comprise nearly half the menu, rounded out with delicate pastas and savory entrees all prepared with the freshest local ingredients. An extensive wine list includes Northwest, Italian and Spanish, and all glasses of wines are $8 and under. The restaurant also features a rich roster of Italian and Northwest grappa and ‘cello available in tidbit’s signature flights. With seating for 60 inside and 24 on the patio, Tidbit is open for dinner nightly beginning at 5 p.m. and weekend brunch 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Happy hour is weekdays from 5 to 6 p.m. Free guest parking is located behind the restaurant. Tidbit is located at 2359 10th Ave E, Seattle. Phone (206) 323-0840

Posted in Dining Out, Seattle | Comments Off