a season for leaves

 

Tis the season. Leaves changing. Full moon last night. Crispness in the air. 

Also, dread. Bravery will be required of us in these next few days, and we have already been very brave.

Courage, friends.

happy halloweenie

 From my house to yours, wishing you a safe, sweet, spicy and happy Halloweenie.

betelgeuse betelbeuse betelgeuse

Seen at the old Octopus Bar in Wallingford (now moved where the Iron Bull has been rehabbed and gentrified--no more Sean Kemp/Sonics mural).

chop gallery

The 150th night of BLM protests was Monday evening. I went to Cal Anderson for a bit to stand in solidarity. The CHOP garden continues to grow. There was a group of probably 100 right around 6pm, music bumping, rugby players dodging protesters and dog walkers. A chilly, festive feel.

Then the SPD began driving by the park, first in unmarked vehicles, then a squad car, which got jammed up northbound on 11th Avenue when a citizen's SUV drove southbound towards Pine. A slowdown and then protesters noticed the SPD vehicle and walked over. It was tense, and there was shouting. And then the cop moved on, steering with one hand and texting with the other.

Later, CHOP Gallery began projecting images against the ghastly concrete walls of the East Precinct. That night, images of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. It's a beautiful idea. 

in medieval news

This Tumblr post about medieval castles and why the staircases are tight spirals and favor right-handed fighters really entranced me. I've climbed a few of those staircases on sightseeing trips around England and Germany, and never really understood the thought process. 

Is this why the steps at the Great Wall of China are also so uneven? 

The shout out to the Kerr/Carr clan hit close to home. My great-grandmother was an amateur genealogist and she had us chasing cemeteries all over the Midwest looking for Kerrs.

the neinhorn, or why we love Germany

I discovered this Tumblr called, Warum wir Deutschland mögen, or, Why we love Germany. 

This post on masks is hilarious. Click the link to see an English translation.

I guess it's kind of comforting that countries besides the USA are dealing with covid-19 denial. Also, frustrating and frightening.

I voted

 Success! King County is already at 46% turnout.

 

finally, a return

The coffee situation during pandemic times has been challenging.

My favorite coffee shop in Fremont, ETG--the owner roasts beans in house and they bake their own pastries--closed down in March. So did everyone else, except for Caffe Ladro and Starbucks, so I took my business mostly to Ladro. Last week, I got bunched up in a long line at Ladro with a guy close enough to breathe on me, who then asked me if I was in line (I said DUDE), and the guy behind him maskless and gawking around. I fled, sans coffee, and wondered today what I would do for coffee.

Reluctantly, today, I got Starbucks. The workers are actually cool guys--one plays in a band that's had gigs at Tim's Tavern--but still. I'd rather support a locally owned shop.

I walked towards my destination and spotted what looked like--could it be?--lights on at ETG. 

Closer still, I saw the sandwich board out on the sidewalk.

ETG is back! I peered in through the plexiglass and saw the owner and her daughter. Welcome back! I shrieked, making them both jump. We chatted. They're only open Fridays and Saturdays for now.

Finally, some good news. ETG is back.

Go see 'em.

what I'm reading

Besides the news and Twitter--obsessively--I'm reading a lot.

I finally got the Bryan Washington collection I've wanted to read so I am pretty excited.

I'm double-fisting Samantha Irby collections--"Wow No Thank You" and "We are Never Meeting in Real Life." She is such a talented writer. Perceptive, funny, ruthless. I nearly snorted up a gulp of fizzy water yesterday reading her piece on home ownership. 

Also, Attica Locke's "Bluebird Bluebird." I'm a huge fan of mystery novels and this is a delight. Taut story, complicated characters, keenly-drawn setting: I'm racing through it and also wishing it would never end. 

Recently I read Susan Choi's "Trust Exercise." It was alright--I ran out of gas about halfway through, but she is the kind of insightful writer, gentle but lethal, that I love and am supremely jealous of. 

I'm also starting to lag behind on The New Yorker. After a run of wonderful and diverse short stories, they seem to be reverting back to old (white) favorites. Time to drop them a line.

having our say

More than 40 million people have voted in the USA already, with just under 2 weeks to go.

Over 195000 in King County alone. I walked to the ballot drop box yesterday morning and there were other people en route to do the same. I took a moment as I put my ballot in the box to wish it well. 

I see photos of Americans determined to have a say, enduring long lines and broken systems and harassment, and it brings me to tears. Let us fervently hope we will be able to evict this horrific criminal family from our house. I want to be with people on Election Night (even though chances are we won't know who prevailed). Also I don't know how to be with anyone during a pandemi. It will not be a night to be alone. 

I remember the night Obama won in 2008. I was at Triple Door with friends and the night was called so early, we had just arrived and were in complete shock. After 8 years of GWB to have it called so swiftly. This was the first political campaign I ever donated to and doorknocked for. I kissed a stranger. We ran en masse out into the street and danced and cheered. It was an unbelievable night. 

However.

I also remember 2016. I started at Central Cinema which was airing results on the big screen, but by the time I arrived, the trend wasn't good and the crowd sat in silent shock. I texted friends nearby to see if I should still come by, but they were turning their TV off, too upset to keep watching. So I walked to the hill and ended up at Bill's Off Broadway. Several friends arrived. We stood at the bar and boo'ed lustily as states turned scarlet on the big screen. Some guys bought rounds of whiskey shots. The election was called. We stood, staring, in a state of sickened shock. How? Just--HOW? 

A friend and I left, upset, threw some things, broke a bottle, screamed into some rando's cell phone video. I awoke the next morning to see my phone full of texts and had this last desperate hope--it was a mistake, a bad dream, a glitch. But--no. No. The nightmare was real.We've been living it.

what I'm watching

Besides gaping at the existential dread of the news doom-cycle, I'm watching reality TV (#shame) and also a ton of documentaries. I enjoy the shaping of true(ish) narratives into a compelling story. 

"Little White Lie," about a young Jewish woman's discovery of her racial heritage, is fascinating. It interrogates the lies we in our families tell ourselves. And why it matters.

 

Recently, I also saw "Montage of Heck," about Kurt Cobain. The film includes home video and animations made from his notebooks--drawings, lyrics, musings. I missed the Nirvana obsession in the 1990's, but this glimpse into the gifted musician as a simply flawed, vulnerable, weak, angry and charming person is fascinating.

"American Factory" is one that stuck with me for awhile. On the surface it's about a Chinese factory owner starting up production in Dayton, Ohio, but of course it's mostly about people and how similar and different we are all at once, and how that may mean this venture can never be successful.

 

I also watched "Rewind," about a young man coming to understand the full familial context of the sexual abuse he suffered as a kid. Parts of it are really hard to watch--he's so vulnerable, so angry, so violated. It reminds me that evil and crimes can be so entwined and integrated with daily life that we somehow become blind to them. (See also "Three Identical Strangers.")

Other winners: Everybody's Everything (a heart breaker about the too-short life of Lil Peep) and the Paradise Lost trilogy. I'll keep watching and sharing--I deeply admire documentarians for making films that don't bring in a lot of cash but help us understand more about life and  humanity.

quarantine shows

Zoom fatigue is real and yet it's the only way to safely see people and shows. 

Last weekend I tuned in for the amazing Sassyblack's jazzy, funky DJ set. Catch her every Thursday on Twitch.

Yesterday was Weekend Lovers' performance for a Tucson realty company (?). So comforting and cool to see a friend still rocking it out in Arizona. 

she-roes walk among us

After months of stalling, I finally saw my dentist last week. 

I'm a dental weenie on the best of days, so getting a teeth cleaning after nine months of half-hearted flossing and semi-rigorous brushing, during a pandemic, was obviously going to be a challenge.

So there are pre-appointment questionnaires now, inquiring about fevers and coughs and contact with sick people. I answered no to everything even though I had a couple of "is it covid or is it allergies?" sore throat mornings recently. 

I walked to the dental office, wanting to avoid the bus and the covid-19 outbreak on campus, so that was an 80 minute hike. I forgot where I stashed my CBD mints so it was cold turkey until I could get the nitrous clamped on.

Now you text when you get to the dental office instead of sailing in to catch up on Us Magazine, and since I was on foot, I stood around outside in the parking lot, until a text summoned me to Entrance A. My hygienist awaited with hand sanitizer, disposable masks (in case I wasn't wearing mine and yes there are jerks who show up maskless), and a thermometer.

More questions once I was in the chair, some kind of fancy filter running right beside me, all of us masked up, the hygienists and dentist in gowns and face shields. There were blood pressure checks and x-rays and gum measurements aka bleedy gums time. For the microsonic cleaning I held my own water suction tube, and the hygienist had her own giant water suction tube. Two of us whisking every last drop of saliva out of my mouth.

Dental hygienists are on the front lines of contamination, which I hadn't realized. Where else are aerosol droplets going to fly so freely but the dental chair? Mine discontinued the baking soda treatment, where they shoot tiny needles of baking soda directly into your freshly cleaned gums. Too much aerosol generated. It's the oral equivalent of a polar bear plunge. I can't say I'll miss it.

After the dentist breezed in and out--quick check of the teef, brief commiserations--I was shown to Entrance B, where I paid for the nitrous and waved good-bye and walked through the empty waiting room and back out to the parking lot. It was a stressful 70 minutes, and I'm already dreading the next one in February 2021.

Meanwhile, these she-roes do this day in and out. This is their normal. They don't get paid nearly enough. Godspeed dental workers and be safe.

will-hay nelson

On a rainy Sunday a pal and I took a jaunt. I'd lucked out and rented a van for $2 so we threw some snacks and blankets in the back and headed north and west. I had a hankering for apple cider.

Somewhere south of the naval air station on Whidbey Island I spotted a pumpkin patch. Or rather, a few bright orange pumpkins piled in a field, along with a scraggly corn maze and a couple of hay bale sculptures. My favorite was Will-hay Nelson (braids, guitar and all) and an ominous warning to "keep 6' or sleep 6'," i.e. socially distance.

I got my hot cider from a friendly farmstand woman, and then the anti-mask family rolled in--literally--with crying kids and a wagon piled with pumpkins. We fled before the aerosol droplets began to fly, hot spicy cider in hand.

 

our very own wall

The east precinct of the Seattle Police Department erected new barriers a month and a half ago. The concrete and metal construction blocks a full lane for about half a block on Pine, west of 12th, and on 12th, south of Pine, which makes walking and cycling in the area a huge pain in the rear end.

It's ugly, too. It reminds me, every time I pass by, that law enforcement is putting a HUGE barrier--and yes I'm shouting but it's big!--a huge barrier between themselves and the community they committed to serve and protect. I don't understand it. As a citizen, taxpayer and resident of the neighborhood, this  kind of deliberate escalation offends me. 

I don't dispute that the precinct has been a flashpoint in the months of protests since George Floyd's murder. Nor that it has been the target of a few firecrackers, hurled water bottles and the like. But, think about what kind of force is on the other side of this. Tear gas. Pepper spray. Grenades. Men with guns.

I don't have all the answers but this kind of power and violence imbalance is not promising for those currently at the helm. 

*

The concrete is also a frequent target of taggers. As fast as people graffiti the offensive cement cubes, someone (SPD? the city i.e. taxpayers?) comes out and paints over it. It's a constant agitation. At this rate, the grey paint will be six inches thick by Christmas.

wyd

We're still quarantining, aren't we? Aren't we?

I am. Haven't seen most of my family in seven months. Nor friends. I've seen a few folks here and there, for walk and talks or outdoor hangouts. Always with a mask. Always for an hour or two. 

I'm sick of it. I miss bars and shows and loud music and hanging out with friends, laughing and getting silly and dancing. I know we all do. I know we'll get back, one day soon. I know.

*

Out for a misty walk the other night, and we come across a woman standing at a kind of VIP podium on a deserted sidewalk. She says, Hey, we're having a pop-up Oktoberfest bar upstairs, would you like to come? We glance up a dark stairwell, and decline.

An hour earlier, I stood on a sidewalk a few blocks away and a skinny kid in a mask approached me, holding a cardboard box. Politely, he said, Would you be interested in buying a chocolate babka? I declined this too, with a laugh.

power *2* the people

Seen on a jaunt around the neighborhood.

I'm trying to tag artists in every post, but I can't find this one: the MATH.

the dialogue

Converge Media and King County Equity Now held a three-hour town hall the other evening. Featured speakers included Nikkita Oliver, Marcus Green of South Seattle Emerald, and King County Council member Girmay Zahilay, as well as Mayor Durkan. 

What an opportunity for 206 citizens to listen, learn and contribute. I hope it was the first of many. 

c'mon man

Now, I'm a recovering Baptist so the realm of emotion and feelings is quite foreign to me. I grew up having to be strong, a role model, an example. Doing the right thing was most important. How I felt about it mattered not at all.

This fictional worldview imploded for good after some deep personal losses and the realization that I needed help and there was no around to help me. 

Many of my relationships are still built on the premise that I'm strong and resourceful. I don't whine. I don't ask for much. So this week, when I honestly confessed to a good friend that life feels pretty shitty, what came back was--suck it up. Hostility, even. Like it was my own fault I was struggling.

*

So, now I'm sorting through a complicated mess of feelings. 

This--now--reality--is objectively and subjectively a really tough time. I'm doing my best. Some days, that's putting on pants and getting through the day. Other days, it's more and better. But a lot of things still mostly suck. So it feels gross to have this person say "Well what have you been doing? Aren't you going for walks? Seeing people? No? Why not?" 

Last week, when I sent a jokey text bemoaning the latest injustice, a pal told me to get off social media. (I wasn't on, but you get my point.)

If I can't confide in a friend, then whom can I confide in? WHOMST?

It feels like toxic positivity. 

no touch face!

 More art from my walks around the city.

no touch face/me62"

squash racism

Justice for Elijah McClain/Throwbacks NW

I cry every day

I hate crying and especially in public, but these days, tears are a release.

Some days, I cry out of frustration. The stress upon stress upon stress, with no end in sight.

Occasionally, from anger. The pandemic didn't need to be this bad, or long, or devastating. And now the biggest, loudest liars have been infected. My city could do better, but we're failing.

Other days, fear. How bad is it? How bad will it get? Will I be strong?

And some days, from loneliness. I'm by myself a lot. I can go days without seeing anyone or hearing a human voice other than on a podcast, or a work call. I desperately miss being with my friends, family, going to clubs, shows, art events. Life. I know it will all come back. We are losing so much in the meantime. But, I know it will all come back.

get your booty to the poll

In one of the more interesting get-out-the-vote campaigns, here are dancers from the Atlanta area reminding us all to get your booty to the poll.