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Randomly Monday

Mmmmm. Crawdad sandwich…

Long trip into the delta this weekend with Dan and Jamie for crawdad melts in Isleton, general prowling in Rio Vista and the other towns, and a stop in Vallejo to see just how cheap and pleasant it really is given all the current hype. Of course, I’ve been there before, many times, but this time we spent about an hour seeing just how far your housing dollar goes there. Verdict: pretty damned far.

How I won’t be spending Labor Day weekend…

Jonno’s pondering a trip to Burning Man. I’m not. It’s a great thing for the people who love it, what with no corporate sponsorships and all, and I’d never think of criticizing anyone for going. But for me, it sounds like just about as close as I’d ever get to hell on earth. The only camping I’ve ever done was the night I slept out on the deck because it was too hot inside. And that’s about as much camping as I’d ever WANT to do.

I have a hard enough time dealing with annoying people in comfortable surroundings. If you put me in the desert with a collection of ravers, granolas, nature-lovers, and the inevitable yuppie gawkers, someone would get killed. Probably me, as I’d be too weak to defend myself on a steady diet of trail mix and water.

Better words than I’m writing this week…

Commercial Archaeology

Thanks to Chuck in Columbia (who has some bitchin’ pictures on his site), I’ve now realized that I wasn’t smoking crack as a child and dreaming that Hardee’s restaurants used to look like this:

I’ve searched years for someone who remembered this particular design. There couldn’t have been many built because no one seems to remember them. Imagine my surprise when Chuck casually mentioned a “a pagoda-shaped Hardee’s” in Columbia. Of course, he had other things to say too, but this was a 20-year obsession.

My friends know my much-indulged hobby is commercial archaeology, or the unearthing of former chain-store prototypes, motels, fast food joints, etc. My supermarket fixation is only the tip of the iceberg. I’ve also been known to engage in such fascinating games as “find the former Sears” and “White Castle or White Tower”. Despite this fact, a few stout-hearted individuals are still willing to ride in a car with me.

The Hardee’s pagoda was one of the first warnings about my future hobby, way back when I was still in high school. Even then I’d ask people if they remembered that weird-looking Hardee’s on Battleground Avenue in Greensboro. I now know I wasn’t making it up. I am much relieved.

Happy Movie Morning

You’ve just got to love waking up on Friday morning to find All About Eve and Sunset Boulevard running back to back on AMC. Without this 8AM boost, I probably wouldn’t have gotten nearly so much done today.

The schizophrenic nature of freelance work: I spent my Friday alternating between work on a quite respectable (family-oriented, even) website and creating a series of porn stories for hire. I wish I could say that the switching back and forth made the website sexier and the stories more aesthetically-pleasing, but all it really did was give me a headache.

By 4:00, I found myself typing <A href=”shoot that load” TARGET=”_mouth”> over and over again. It was just plain scary.

But tonight, I think Jamie and I may have found my new favorite San Francisco restaurant: Cajun Pacific, in the depths of the fog belt at 47th and Irving. It’s tiny, the food’s good, the music’s good and the staff makes the place feel like a joint that three or four cool friends decided one night (while drunk) to open and operate together.

I had fried green tomatoes for the very first time tonight, and I now realize this is a dish which deserved to have a movie named after it. Sorry, recent sextoys, but this was the best thing I’ve put in my mouth in a long time. The jambalaya was too dry, like it is in about half of all Cajun restaurants. I can forgive that. The cook was drinking a beer while he worked. I liked that. And there wasn’t a slumming yuppie to be seen. I loved that.

I sure did like this place. I will be eating there many times in the future. I should probably be shot for mentioning the place publicly, but it’s pretty safe from the yuppie invasion because (a) it’s too far out in the avenues, (b) the food is appropriately priced, (c) it’s BYOB, and (d) there’s just not enough room to see or be seen, much less to “network”.

I’m gonna sleep now, strangely satisfied with the fact that I’ve eaten crawdads twice in six days, and not aplogizing that a majority of tonight’s links were from the Internet Movie Database.

Violating My Ride

So my car’s charmed life is finally over. As longtime readers may remember, my old car was a crime magnet which had been broken into many times, one of which ended in the fire which sent it to car heaven. But the most recent one had been immune for 3 1/2 years.

Until Friday night, that is, when it lost its front driver’s side window. Nothing else was gone, of course, because there was nothing else to take, so it was essentially just an $89 annoyance. And I was probably due, since I’d gone so long without problems.

Strangely enough, I’d just mentioned the miraculous record to Jamie earlier on Friday night. Right after, we discovered that someone had tried to get into my trunk this week too, but all they managed was to break the lock so I can only open it with the inside latch now. If I were a paranoid sort, I’d think someone was out to get me. But I’m probably just getting three-plus years of hassles in one week by coincidence.

It still doesn’t faze me, though. I’m no longer horrified at the site of shattered glass, like I was ten years ago in New York. Now it’s just a pain in the ass, part of the price of having a car in the city without also having a garage to put it in.

Thing I love today:

  • Filemaker Pro. Again. Always. This program will eventually save the world, even though I’m not yet sure how.

Things I hate today:

  • Safeway Select Fat-free Peach Yogurt. Bleccch…
  • It’s hot and sunny. Which makes me sullen and irritable.
  • Having to drive around with my window closed (until the glue sets) while it’s hot and sunny and I’m sullen and irritable.
  • No good movies this afternoon while it’s hot and sunny and I’m sullen and irritable.

Birthday Bash

Just a quickie note to make official that the second annual Planet SOMA Birthday Gathering will convene at 8PM on Thursday 10 August. All are welcome; gifts are not encouraged. The location, once again, is Tad’s Steaks on Powell. A more suitable invitation will be forthcoming. For now, read about last year’s if you like…

Slammed

Just another quick note to say I’m slammed for the next two days or so, after which I will (a) start updating again and (b) maybe even start answering email again…

Randomly Monday

Yes, I know it’s been over a week since I wrote anything substantial, and yes, it’s been almost as long since I’ve answered any email. I promise to catch up Monday night. It’s been hectic. Really hectic. This, of course, has the twin effects of (a) giving me nothing interesting to write about and (b) leaving me no time to write about the aforementioned nothing anyhow.

The big excitement of today (other than getting a lot done, of course) was learning that Apple Jacks now have little green things in with the little pinkish-orange things. So now I know that in addition to tasting better, the Safeway brand is all one color. Interesting Sunday, huh?

Still hoping to see anyone and everyone who might show up at Thursday night’s birthday bash. In case you missed it, the time is 8PM on Thursday 10 August. The place is Tad’s Steaks on Powell near Post. Informal attire is required, and gifts are not encouraged. Vegans are welcome but may find limited food options.

Bed. Me. Now.

Find Me an 18-Year-Old

It’s quite important that I find an 18-year-old to have sex with on my birthday tomorrow. You see, I’m turning 36, and I’ve become just a little obsessed with the idea that it will finally be legal (in California) for me to do the nasty with someone half my age. So if you’re 18 and willing, please show up at Thursday’s birthday bash.

You don’t have to do much, just enough so that it would have been illegal if I were 34 and you were 17. Or even if we were both 60 in North Carolina or about 20 other states.

A skateboard is optional, but it might result in a bonus…

Upon Hitting Age 36

Realizations upon hitting age 36:

  • Any email message which states “this is not spam” invariably is.
  • Most people will never realize that the same logic which states “Windows is the most popular operating system, therefore it’s the best” would also suggest that McDonald’s is the most fabulous restaurant in the world.
  • I will probably never do anything which will get me in the history books and I’m probably glad.
  • I will probably never have a live-in boyfriend and I’m definitely glad.
  • There are approximately five other people on the planet who share my fascination with old supermarkets and I’ve probably spoken with at least four of them already.
  • San Francisco will never again seem as exciting to me as it did in 1992 or even 1996.
  • Los Angeles is not really such a bad place.
  • Neither is Richmond, Virginia.
  • I still like Chicago and Detroit better.
  • There will always be yuppies, no matter what the currently fashionable term. They will always be annoying. And they will always be an easy target.
  • I will probably not wake up this morning to find a 21-inch monitor has mysteriously appeared on my doorstep and just as mysteriously has managed not to be stolen.
  • I do not get tired of The Simpsons no matter how many times I’ve seen each and every episode. And I’ve seen them all very many times.
  • I cannot say the same thing about “Third Rock from the Sun”.
  • I will always feel just a little insecure and just a tad melancholy right around my birthday.
  • Not to mention just a touch self-indulgent.

Birthday bash tonight at Tad’s Steaks on Powell Street. We get in the $8.59 steak line at 8PM.

Thanks

Birthday bash was low-key, but entertaining. Pictures and more coming soon. Thanks to everyone who came and to everyone who sent greetings and cards…