Thursday, October 27, 2011

Russian Roulette...the Faultline


Last night as a joke, I emailed a friend, 'see you in 2012...Mayan.' My bad. The goddess doesn't like it when you screw around with ancient mythology. In retro, I should 'can' all doomsday references and take care of my own backyard S**t, the Hayward fault. The Hayward fault is the 'Bay Bridge' of fault lines; 2nd banana to the more powerful, publicity crazed San Andreas fault which shoots off a headline every decade or so. Everyone outside of Cali recognizes the glamorous San Andreas. The Hayward fault garners zero facial recognition. Nada. Except to the populations of Hayward, Oakland, and Berkeley, who reside smugly outside the San Fran glitz, basking in the shadow of the greatest University in the land (and I don't mean the one in Palo Alto), and harboring denial like it was a bogey man hiding under the bed until the Hayward goes off and rears. June 10, 1836, magnitude 6.7; the quake is felt as far away as Monterrey. Oct. 21, 1868, magnitude 7.0; this quake ripped fissures open and some city streets sank. For the past several weeks, the Hayward fault has been alleviating pressure, which, ok, is a good thing; several of the quakes have been centered in Berkeley close to the UC campus, and under the hills. When the epicenter is sitting beneath you, 3.9 feels damn big. And early this morning, 3.6, in the dark, felt like Godzilla was shaking the apt building. No joke. Why? Why do I continue to perpetuate my future demise by an act of nature which every single seismologist predicts is coming? The Hayward fault though, ripe for a monster shake, is not the stuff my nightmares are made of. In my dreams, it's always the same. On a beach or along the seashore. The water recedes and I'm running towards the sea wall. Sometimes I make it. And sometimes I don't. Get those earthquake kits up to date.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

'There's a fog upon...'


1. In a strange retro mood last night. Almost but not quite channeling the 60's munchies, I craved something sweet and not wanting to bust into the hand packed pint of Fenton's pumpkin ice cream (wait for it, wait...) don't ask me why, even insane reasoning has it's moments, like some sort of Catholic school girl in purgatory, I circled the kitchen opening the freezer door, closing it, slamming cupboards, even checking the sorry popcorn, trail mix drawers, until my vision latched onto the 2 plump turkey figs (from the backyard tree planted by Lana) ripening on the window sill. Figs. Never crossed my palate until I was 30 something. But, I remember being with the 1st girl friend in the middle of the day on Polk St, sitting in a theater, watching probably one of the greatest cinematic fig scenes on celluloid; Alan Bates in DH Lawrence's 'Women in Love' comparing a split fig to female anatomical parts while devouring it. Uh, yeah. My favorite way to eat figs is to heat the oven at 425, placing all the figs on a tray and roasting in the oven until the juices start to render themselves from the flesh, and the fruit begins to split. Remove from oven. Serve over a pile of vanilla ice cream. I don't know what it was about the night, but not wanting to turn the oven on, I sliced the figs in quarters and threw a gigantic nob of unsalted butter into a pan. Placing the figs face down in the butter I let them caramelize. Turned them over once onto the skin side I let them cook some more. Dribbling brown sugar (a distant cousin of ice cream) on the soft syrupy goodness sent the plated dessert over the edge.

2. Spent an entire night watching Scorsese's, 'George Harrison, Living in the Material World.' HBO documentary. I teared up in unexpected places. The first time when the great Ravi Shankar played; the other moment came as a list of all of George's songs rolled up the credit screen. George Harrison. Gifted. The Enlightened one.

3. Bengal tigers. An endangered species. Population at approximately 2500. Yesterday in rural Ohio, after the owner of a County Animal Farm freed all the captive animals (lions, tigers, bears, wolves and monkeys) into the surrounding area and then killed himself, sheriff and deputies (safari fever) bagged almost all of the predators including 18 Bengals. Gdamn. Tranquillizing darts anyone?

Friday, October 14, 2011

...'Songs are like tattoos...'


1. Drawn away by personal matters, on the flight over to the islands, Talking Heads, The Commitments, Bob Wills and the Stones masking the turbo jet drone...damn, the food
was miserable. I have been known to frequent dives for a meal, but the sammie that was served wasn't fit for a dog kennel. On the other hand, this was the airline's 1st offense. Slacking my hunger with liquids, and sleep, I woke to spangled turquoise water and Diamond Head rising over the cluttered famed shoreline like an old familiar friend, a sentinel, hovering over 'the gathering place.' 89 degrees out. Wipe that smile off your face. Where are my slippas?

2. Leaves are turning. A slight snap in the air. Fall isn't just about the vaunted NFL or Division I NCAA conferences. They're chucking the ball all over the land. After school and under Friday night lights, it's happening now, baby. Telly ratings soar as football smaks baseball out of the prime time zone. This year the 'Ripley's Believe it or Not' story spiraled out of Pinckney Community High School in Michigan. Tradition dictates that at half time the students crown their homecoming queen. This year, the queen, Brianna Amat, #12 in shoulder pads and cleats, ran out of the Pinckney locker room and was crowned with a tiara. Brianna who tried out for the football team in the spring on the recommendation of her soccer coach made the squad as the field goal kicker. On 'Coronation' night, her team trailing 7-6, playing a rival ranked 7th in the state, with five minutes left in the game...uh, No fear. Brianna, 31 yards away, split the uprights. You think they tore down the goal posts at Pinckney, and hoisted the homecoming queen off the field?

3. Alabama. Sweet home not. WTF? In effect immediately after Judge Sharon Lovelace Blackburn ruled and upheld the strongest immigration law in the country. Thousands of Hispanics have begun mass exodus to border states.

4. A penny for your thoughts after listening to Mozart's 'Requiem' in flight.