San Francisco. Wet and foggy outside. So many friends in this town. One forgets just how remarkably broad the
network of people here is. Fog’s blown
off early. They’ve been talking about a
drought here but it seems rather moist outside.
Drive over hills, fight, once again for parking. Visit friends with families, and back yards
and newborns. Discuss China with other
old China guys. Can we really get things
done there? Does technology make any
sense at all, to bridge between the two places? Might we better find a way to sell organic
food to consumers or some other item, that was, in the end, simple?
Back in the car. I
still think I need a car in SF. I
haven’t evolved to the world of Uber and still recall being stranded without
cab service here. Drive over another
hill, down a fast moving cross street, circle five times for a parking
place. Give up and park in his
driveway. “Back up. You need to leave at least six feet in front
of the garage so someone in a wheel chair can get through.” Upstairs, greetings, wine, music. And now, a baby on the way. Peers still starting families. I think of my knees. A new sound system profiling remarkable
speakers and a higher bit rate form of compression. Not difficult to discern the difference.
What shall we play?
Throw on something I know.
“Monkey Man” by the Stones.
OK. That’s rich. “You know this, of course” “Yup, I was at
that show, where the covers photo’s taken.” "Throw on “Guns of Brixton.”" Wow. OK.
One can begin to appreciate all that you miss with compressed music
played out of small computer speakers.
What’s that song? Mandolin.
Acoustic picking. It takes me a
while, and then I realize it’s Jerry Garcia singing “A Friend of the
Devil.” That’s the only voice I
recognize but it must have been the original from the 1970 release “American
Beauty” with John Grisman on mandolin.
Appropriate, I suppose, for my first SF evening. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Beauty_(album)
I taught middle school here in SF for a spell in James
Denman Middle School, which old Jerry had attended in his youth. Apparently he’s quoted as having said it was
where he learned to be a thug. But with the Dead, I was
never a fan. Indeed it was more of a
badge of honor to hate them, somehow, when they were so cult-like in high
school. I can’t say I’d ever think to
turn to their material and throw it on.
If I’m going to go to that period and mood, I’d be much more inclined to
throw the Allman Brothers on. But,
sitting there last night, uncompressed and beaming at my ears from two
remarkable speakers, well it sounded just fine.
Then hugs, and we’re off.
Downtown. Up to the left, there. You see that? It’s new.
We see some live jazz playing though I can't hear it. Down near the Civic
Center, my friend pointed out to me a
new venue that wasn’t here when I lived in town: The SFJazz Center. http://sfjazz.org/center/introduction I told my friend there was no place I’d rather duck
into. But it was packed, completely sold
out. As we walked further along, we saw what might be disconcerting to see from the inside but which is perfect from the
street. Half a block’s worth of the
building is exposed reinforced glass and on the inside is the audience and a
stage, a small combo performing. As
discussed the session is packed, so the whole affect is alluring. People stand on the street and watch I could
think of any better advertising.
When I lived here you used to have to go to Yoshi’s in
Oakland to see jazz. Glad it was there,
but it was a schlep to get to. You could find places in SF, but not many. A quick look on line and live music certainly
seems to have flourished. Though I can’t
imagine many musicians can afford houses here in this town.
Midway through dinner, someone mentioned the disappearance
of the Malaysian Airlines jet, en route from KL to Beijing. I opened the New York Times today to see
pictures of weeping families. I haven’t
done that particular flight, nor flown that particular airline in a while. But I fly.
I fly there. I wait for people to
get in from flights at the Beijing airport all the time. To loose people so abruptly, 堕云雾中[1] like that.
I hope all ended swiftly for those poor people. What a horrible burden for those
families. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/09/world/asia/malaysia-airlines-flight.html?hp
Two passports unaccounted for, big oil slick reported seen
near the flight path, beginning to sound like another terrorist attack
certainly meant to jab China. Coming on
the heels of the attack in Kunming, it is likely to auger some deeply increased
security matters. No country can handle
such things with equanimity. China’s
response, like America’s is likely to be clumsy and aggressive.
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