Last night, J4 and I had some friends over. As is usually the case, we had way too much food for the number of people who came. Of course, everyone who came brought at least a six pack of beer. So now, I have a fridge full of burger fixing and vegan chili and the left over beer. Basically, the only spot for the beer is in the crisper. Right next to some celery.
I’m going to go make myself a vegan chili Boca burger.
Have I been suckered?
Recently, San Francisco’s Board of Supervisors rejected a measure proposed by District 6 Supervisor Chris Daly which would have put an end to the Blue Angels performing over The City as part of the annual Fleet Week celebration. Working downtown, I have seen the planes going by in practice runs from many a rooftop. As a resident of Treasure Island, I looked forward to the the show every year, and have always enjoyed it. However, the proposition of this measure brought to light a point I had never considered. Daly put forth that one of the reasons he would like to see the shows banned is that it causes suffering to veterans who have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Well, shit, I never thought of that. I wouldn’t want to cause any one discomfort for something as frivolous as an air show. I’m the youngest in a military family. Both parents served in the navy, and my dad always told me stories about the guys he served with having flash backs. My uncle has cancer from being exposed to Agent Orange. My nephew just got back from Iraq. I’m very sympathetic to veterans. On the band wagon I jumped.
So, last night the subject of the Blue Angels came up with our dinner guests. I was adamant. It’s wrong to disregard the suffering of veterans. I got heated. I decided to write a blog about how we should boycott the celebration.
I began doing a little research to support the blog. I could not find a single veterans’ group on the internet who supported the ban. Only one article from The Chronicle, stating that “several veterans” testified before the Supes. I couldn’t find the names of the veterans who testified, let alone any transcript. I wondered, “is he exploiting the veterans suffering from PTSD to pass the measure, to further some other agenda?”
I don’t think that it’s possible to truly know what the motivation is for what these elected officials propose and pass in our government. It’s disheartening, because I truly believe in democracy, but how can any of us make an informed decisions. Maybe this truly is a problem for the veterans of San Francisco. Or maybe not. How can I tell if I am being suckered? I don’t think there’s any way to be sure.
So the question is, should I just enjoy the show?
I whipped together some chili and some guac. Now I’m just hanging out, waiting for some folks to get here, so I can have a beer.
My hands are on fire from chopping a jalapeno. Why do I always do this to myself? Why?
Jessica on Feministing posted a brief response today to MSNBC’s post debate coverage, in which Chris Matthews asked Sen. Chris Dodd, “Do you find it difficult to debate a woman?”
Jessica’s response – “You know, because vaginas have special debate-blocking powers.”
I nearly shot iced tea out of my nose. Seriously, do people really think that way? I guess they do. It never ceases to amaze me.
Wednesday night, I was hanging out with some bikers. I’d never been to Molotov’s. When we got there, Johnny Cash was blaring on the jukebox. The bar wasn’t packed, which was nice, but it also wasn’t empty. There was just enough for there to be a nice crowd, but not crowded. There were a few hipsters, but I didn’t see a single yuppie. It was that fabulous warm day, and so even at 8 in the evening, they had the door and windows open, and I was perfectly comfortable in my short sleeved shirt. After the Johnny Cash songs, some Beastie Boys and other songs that I didn’t recognize came on the jukebox, but smack dab in the middle of the night, out of nowhere, “The Israelites” by the eternal Desmond Dekker. And as we were leaving, more Johnny Cash. Coming and going to Johnny Cash is OK by me. Needless to say, I now have a crush on this bar.
So, we were sitting about, discussing the trip that J4 is planning for his birthday. He was to moto down to the tip of baja. As I am a “satin ass,” I’ll be flying down to meet the gang. Of course we got to reminiscing about previous trips we’ve taken togeter. Vegas last Labor Day, and Hawthorne, NV in May. I’m sure that if we make this trip, I will have lots of stories to tell. Wednesday was just a nice chill evening, hanging out with some friends in a cool spot.
Okay, I totally flaked on the skirt idea, but the weather is not disappointing. Today is one of a handful of days we’ll have in The City where it’s warm and comfortable enough to drink a Slurpee.
So that’s just what I’m doing.
I have Slurpee-tongue.
Saw this post today on Feministe regarding this article.
Basically, a couple of girls in Saudi Arabia pepper sprayed the moral cops who were trying to give them “advise” about how to dress more properly. Fight the patriarchy, people. Say no to the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice, and yes to short shorts.
I read a blog called Back in Skinny Jeans quite regularly. It’s written by a gal, Stephanie, who is a real woman trying to lose a little weight. I like to root for her, and I’ve also picked up some great exercise tips and what not from her site.
Yesterday she posted “Scientist shares the secret to perfect boobies” about an article in the Daily Mail. I think Stephanie did a good job of sending it up, so I won’t go into it to much, but basically the article tells that a scientist will be presenting his findings on the proportion of the perfect ta-tas, after studying many pictures of breasts, to the first international conference on breast enlargement, to be held in London this week. Awesome. You see, the “scientist” is a plastic surgery. The article in the Mail didn’t give any detail on the studies methods, of course.
I had no idea that the breasts of the world were under such scrutiny. Well, at least not from a “scientist”.
Today was one of the awesome, sunny, clear days in San Francisco. These are the kind of gorgeous days that make you forget when you were freezing your nose off in the middle of July in the fog. It was warm, brilliant, and comfortable out in The City today.
I went over to the farmers’ market at the Ferry Building on Embarcadero at lunch. I got a vegan tamale for lunch, and picked up persimmons.
I love the “fall” in the city. It’s funny, though, that in other parts of the country, it’s starting to turn cold, and people are unpacking their sweaters and coats. Here, we never pack up the sweaters or coats, because you’re just as likely to need them in June as you are in January. However, you also never know when you can wear skirts and sandals. I think tomorrow is going to be a skirt and sandal day for me personally. It’s nearly October.
I hope that this October does not disappoint me. It’s usually the warmest month of the year here, but this year has been very off. We didn’t get enough rain over the winter, and then it never got as hot inland as it normally does. It’s normal for it to be barely 60 in The City in August, but not in Concord. I guess only time will tell, but I’m hoping for many more brilliantly warm fall afternoons in San Francisco.
A couple of days ago, I read some terrible news on MySpace. It’s taken a couple of days to process. One of my favorite bands has lost a member. David Fuentes, the bass player for Hepcat passed away this last weekend.
If you’ve never had the pleasure of knowing a Hepcat show, then you have no idea what you’re missing. I’ve never met anyone who has heard their music, and not liked it. I have never met anyone who has seen them live, and not loved them. They will always be one of my favorites, no matter who or what else comes along.
I don’t know if the band will go on. I hope that they will, but I will understand if they won’t. There will never be another.
If I were a praying woman, he’d be in them.
David Fuentes: 1971 – 2007
http://www.myspace.com/hepcatlive
Current Mood: Bummed Out
Playlist: Scientific
Hepcat
Peggy Lu Who's Just Sayin' 