Blog is a Mix Tape

song for sunday: laredo 77

nobody@vox.com(Jason) — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 09:23:51 -0800

Brownout

I've recently been enjoying the sounds of Brownout, a Latin funk outfit out of Austin, Texas. They've been around for a minute in the form of Grupo Fantasma except here, they're strictly instrumental. What I like about these guys is not only that they have their chops down but rather than following a strict revivalist route, their sound has a clear Latin influence but isn't holden to simply trying to sound like it's East Harlem 1968 again.

- Rolling Brownout Hits LA by Oliver Wang, Soul Sides, 01.23.08

That smoothed out Latin Funk has given way this morning to the Samba. Bah Samba to be exact. But this post isn't about the spontaneous dance party in my apartment early this Sunday. No, I've been thinking a lot about public spaces, particularly, the differences between those in LA and SF.

A week ago, I was in San Francisco for the long weekend. Every time I'm up there, I do so much more than I do here. We traveled the city by bus! by muni! by cab! by foot! by BART! We went in search of giant donuts and art spaces and street art and drinks and delectables! I went to a random hippie party! We spent long swaths of time in Dolores and Golden Gate parks and at the de Young and in each instance I was struck by the vibe of the city and the timbre of the people. There's a rhythm. I felt immediately connected and, as Felicia remarks often, delighted by it.

At the de Young, for example, after taking the bus the wrong way--and figuring that misstep out by the GPS in our phones because, hello, nerds--we found our way into the museum's fountain area where a local artists' bazaar was taking place. We found ourselves a bench and people watched for awhile. We remarked on everyone's unique styles (particularly the comfortable yet stylish shoes that adorned everyone) and the smiles on their faces and the diversity, not just of ethnicity, but of age and sexuality and economy. Then we finally went inside and checked out the Gilbert & George exhibit where my mind was blown.

As I remarked to Lauren yesterday as we walked through the new BCAM building at LACMA, I never took art history. I don't really know how to parse contemporary art but what the Gilbert & George exhibit showcased was their ability to shine a light on their current affairs through photography and paint and their own beings and all in these giant set pieces that take minutes to take in. San Francisco is like that for me. I need more than the fleeting moments I get with that town and it's people. It's why I visit monthly now. My mind and heart are tugged there in an attempt to soak it all up.

Cut to yesterday's afternoon. It started with a car ride. Obviously. And a haircut. And traffic. And dodging award ceremonies. And a wonderful 90 minutes at LACMA with a good friend. It also included parking woes. And a trip to The Grove. And a celebrity sighting--Rebecca De Mornay enjoying the Transform exhibit alone--and none of that rhythm or sense of interconnectedness that I felt just a week prior doing similar things. Nor any of that sense of wonder.

There's a great view from the top floor of BCAM. You can see much of Hollywood and Beverly Hills but what we noticed was the 99 Cent store. "I've never seen it from this high, " she said.

"Neither have I," I agreed. We ~~marveled~~ ~~examined~~ ~~looked~~ stared for a moment and then moved on. We wanted to avoid the tour group, the yellow shirted school group, the old ladies with umbrellas, and the sometime stars who didn't get an invite to either the Independent Spirit Awards or the Razzies.

We had fun, sure. We laughed at the Giant Balloon dog, discussed Damien Hirst in depth, were awed by Cindy Sherman, became kids again with the oversized kitchen table, and got vertigo in the first floor maze. We also rapped Mama Said Knock You Out and spent too much money in the Apple Store. It was enjoyable but it was fun we shared only with each other. In LA, in our public spaces, our rhythm is our own. It's one of the reasons people love Los Angeles. It's often one of the reasons I love it.

Lately, though, I'm hungry for that shared movement.

Samba!

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aught eight by the bay

nobody@vox.com(Jason) — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 19:15:02 -0800

Geeks Doing Good @ SF Food Bank, originally uploaded by Jeremy Toeman.

I'm not sexy. This became readily apparent as I perspired like a pig tossing around 36 pound boxes of government issue pork and 24 pound crates of pasta Saturday morning while the sexiest geek couple of 2007 smiled and sassed their way through similar hard labor.

I am sexy. If the sexy Svetlana's interest in me teaching her a few moves at the 222 Club Saturday night is any indication. She was fun but nothing compared to the meal we had at Red Box Sushi.

Perfection in the raw, we ate the finest sushi I've ever had in the dark crevices of the Tenderloin with a young sushi chef, his downtempo grooves, and pre-new year sake for all. If there is anything calling me to San Francisco with ever mesmerizing tones, it is nights like these.

And people like Nathalie and Damon, who can turn a mellow afternoon in Hayes Valley or a low key early evening NYE pre-party into epic/memorable affairs. From catching the spirit at the ringing of the bells at the Asian Art Museum to decadent drinks and laughter at Absinthe to video game Karaoke at their home, they continue to prove they are special people cut from a different cloth than most.

I gush about my regular SF peoples every time I come back from the city but, interestingly, this trip didn't feature most of that cast. Next time, y'all. We're doing 1 trip a month to the Yay in '08. What's my reason for coming up in February?

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my city?

nobody@vox.com(Jason) — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 09:59:09 -0800

Oaktown

Dangerous Dame

Last weekend, Melle and I rode up to San Francisco (well, Oakland, really) in a white pony for less than 48 hours. In that time, I drank. A lot. Played some tracks. Talked up Writers with Drinks. And a bad-ass chick. Then attended Writers with Drinks and met some all new bad-ass chicks. Ran into Doc. Had a tarot card reading. Drank some more. Played Scrabble with my peoples in Alameda. Ate Korean with the same peoples in Jack London Square. Lost my phone.

Felt alive.

The ties and tugs get ever stronger with each visit.

My tuning fork is decidedly pointed north.

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4-Hour Work Week: System Reset

nobody@vox.com(Jason) — Sat, 28 Apr 2007 17:51:04 -0700

So, on the first night of SXSW this year, I met and took a picture of this random guy at the blogher meetup. He was touting his yet to be published book called "The 4 Hour Work Week." I didn't think much of it. In fact, I may have actively poo-pooed the concept arguing that, of course Tim could do the 4-hour work week, he'd already made his millions.

Last weekend in San Francisco, I ran into Tim again. He was giving away copies of the book at Element Lounge during MJ's Web 2.0 Birthday party and I picked up one still being a non-believer. But, you know, Tim's an interesting guy and we had a brief but intriguing conversation so, in one of the few quiet moments of the weekend, I cracked it open.

I'm a believer now and, today, I'm dreamlining.

4 Things I want to have:

*Hip Hop Abs
The BMW 2007 M6 Convertible
Weekly Cleaning & Laundry Service
Complete DJ rig

5 Things I want to be:

A Chess Tournament Champion
*A Club DJ
A Great(er) Lover
Fluent in Spanish
Fluent in Tagalog

5 Things I want to do:

Visit Greece
*Write the Saunders Family History
*Live in San Francisco
See Bjork live in concert
Make a Documentary

Now, you may remember that I got on the 101/1001 train a few years ago (and failed miserably at it) so this whole list thing makes me a little nervous but I'll explain why this is way more effective and useful in the next post.

Next up: Next steps

This post's playlist:

La Raza by Kid Frost
Party and Bullshit (ratatat remix) by The Notorious B.I.G.
Laff At 'Em (Give It To Me RMX f/ Justin Timberlake & Jay-Z) by Timbaland
I'm Throwed by Paul Wall
Rehab (Desert Eagle Remix) by Amy Winehouse
Revolt (Le Tigre mix) by Lesbians on Ecstasy
Spit It Clearly by Dilated Peoples
Hip Hop (RMX f/ Jadakiss and Saigon) by Joell Ortiz
Don't You Have A Man (f/ Dwele and Little Brother) by Drake
The Lucky One by Au Revoir Simone

*represents the "4 dreams that would change it all"

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@away: Costume or Awesome?

nobody@vox.com(Jason) — Wed, 25 Apr 2007 19:17:41 -0700

Felicia and I sat on the BART heading towards SFO and as the doors of the train closed someone's cell phone began playing a TruTones version of Bittersweet Symphony. I saw our getaway film fade to black and the credits roll up right then.

There was a post-script, sure, a bonus scene of she and I sitting in an airport bar drinking doubles of Ketel & soda and turning a not-so-innocuous comment about how we didn't want the life of the family of 4 a few tables away from us into a deeper conversation about the relationships we've had with our own parents but this weekend was more about doing than reflecting.

The last 24 hours seemed less intense but in that time I'd brunched with a lady, hung out in Washington Square Park, eaten Dim Sum, seen live action Sailor Moon at the Cherry Blossom festival, geishas on stilts, and a Japanese drum circle and created a new game for all ages - "Costume or Awesome?" or it's alternate rule, "Costume or Crazy?"

I enjoyed life that didn't require a car. I liked being close to humanity. I liked feeling connected to not just the city but to the community.

And whether costumed or crazy, I judged those people and found them all very much awesome.

I'll be back in about a month, my lovelies. Rest up. Get familiar.

This post's playlist
1. Nobody Like Me by Little Brother
2. Elevator Music by Beck
3. Keep it Playa by Pharell
4. As Long As It's You by Incognito

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@away: Feels Like Home

nobody@vox.com(Jason) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 11:42:43 -0700

Date Stamp: 04.21.07

A light rain covers San Francisco. It's 6:33 pm. I'm sitting in the mezzanine at the Hotel Metropolis trying to angle appropriately for the complimentary wifi that seems to elude me. Felicia and Melissa are napping in our kryptonite colored room. I've just coordinated dinner plans with some of my very favorite people like Mita and Mr. West and I trust that our evening will only begin with tapas.

I'm very happy.

I've twittered about random things like leg cramps and Dixie bands and cannoli while I've been here and they are all true. I'm still battling the muscle tightness that cropped up last night at the Element Lounge. MJ's web 2.0 birthday party featured some ridiculous pop confection - at least 4 songs featuring Fergie and the Timbaland/Nelly Furtado/Justin Timberlake hit twice - along with the requisite megamixes and reggaeton and after trying to play it cool and take it easy, I was overcome. We danced it out. We walked it out. We got George to break it down. And then, because I'm old, the back of my right leg seized up. It hasn't quite relinquished it's hold.

This should be a problem because we spent the day walking the city. Breakfast at Cafe Mason was followed by a cable car ride to The Buena Vista and many an irish coffee, many a joke, and one camera lesson on the wonder of the macro feature and food shots. We then trekked through North Beach and found the "WashBaG crawdad feed" that featured the most excellent Dixie Band covering some of your 80s favorites including Rockwell, Phil Collins and the Eurythmics. We didn't stop there.

Can't Stop. Won't Stop.

So we continued on through the Italian rooted enclave until we found Mara's Italian Eatery and had the finest of pastries, gelatos and coffees before walking back to Union Square and then on to the hotel.

In betwixt all that, I've seen Smokler and Tim Ferriss and Jaschu. I've danced with strange women and been drunkenly encouraged by strange men. I've discussed local politics and web industry gossip and eaten my face off.

I've felt both special and normal at the same time. I've felt at home.

Huh.

So, if this feels like home what does LA feel like to me right now?

A question for another day, methinks.

This post's playlist:

1. To Dry Up (feat. Charlotte Savary) by Hope & Sorrow
2. Don't Sit on the Pickets by Racetrack
3. Morning Child by 4Hero
4. Interlude by Jay Dee aka J Dilla
5. You Broke My Heart by Cavalry of Light
6. Sweaty Wet/Dirty Damp by Gameboy/Gamegirl

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