Dear Ryan (and Friends)

We rode with Allen's brother, Ryan, to the airport yesterday to provide him a proper farewell. The back things up a step or two (or week) for the uninitiated, Ryan had indicated (rather flippantly) that he wanted to visit us once we got settled. Ryan, as it were, is known to be flaky at times--which is a shocking reveal about Allen's family, to be sure--so when he mentioned it we didn't put too much stock in it.

That was a mistake, to our delight, because he came out to visit a week ago and it's been one of the best times I've had in the city since moving here. For a change I got to play tour guide with him instead of filling out the role of tourist myself, so it's been a busy week for us.

Allen and I's place isn't a palace by any means to begin with, but now that we don't have Ryan crashed out on our sofa, it feels extremely empty in there. So, here's to you Ryan. We miss you and hope you'll visit again soon!

As an addendum to my weird emails, I'd like to thank everyone that has sent along warm emails to me. In fact, I'd say the amount of affable correspondence outnumbers the off-setting ones. Now that my life has begun to settle back into it's post-graduate boredom again, I'll be able to reacquaint myself with the fun little insane things around SF that help me keep my sanity.

Diabolical Masterminds

Heading downtown on the 38, a man boarded with a small, black Yorkshire Terrier under his arm. He made a big to-do out of saying hello to the bus driver, as though he were an old acquaintance (prompting the driver to release a long, exasperated sigh, as though he were an old annoyance) then sat down next to Allen (and his brother) and myself.

I learned that the dog’s name was none-other-than Emma Peel, and was introduce quite formally to her. She was on her way to the groomers where she would have maintenance performed on her immaculately sculpted bangs, and likely topped off with an appropriately colored bow of some type.

Clearly the one in charge, Emma Peel rode on the man’s lap in a bored fashion. She feigned disinterest in me; all too accustom to this routine, nothing excited her. However, after our formal introduction (and to the man’s surprise) Emma pounced in my lap to further make my acquaintance. I seemed to have met with her approval. He informed me that she never did that to anyone, and that usually she regarded most Muni riders with apathy.

Allen thought it was cute and ribbed me about finally making some new friends in the city. We ended up getting off at a stop before Emma and only after my soles hit the pavement, it occurred to me I never got the name of the man; not that he had even thought to take the time to offer it up after introducing Emma, either.

Weird [Emails]/Arpeggi

For the past couple of days, my email inbox has yielded some strange, odd and downright creepy emails. Most make a passing acknowledgment to my blog, but just about all of them make mention of several related names and organizations. All of them repeated, in tandem, across the deluge of weird emails.

I’ve tried to put my mind off it for the weekend and just spend time with Allen, but it’s become increasingly hard to ignore. I seem to have struck a chord with something in one of my blogs. My own intrinsic curiosity is having trouble letting it rest and I am constantly reminding myself this is the weekend to turn off higher brain functions to just eat, sleep and be merry.

Vital-Orbit Human Force Field

Watching the Blue Angels was, in a word, incredible. It was a thrilling afternoon that drudged up childhood memories the way eating sugary candy reminds one of the dentist. The view from the park atop Alta Plaza was a befitting spot for someone looking to enjoy the events without taking a hit in the pocket book. We had a lovely little impromptu picnic on the north side of the park where we shared a mostly uninterrupted view of the Blue Angels as they practiced their maneuvers.

In fact, during some of their overhead stunts they were seemingly so close to us that I could easily make out the pilots heads bobbing under neath their canopies, and if my eyes were slightly more healthier than they are, I could no doubt have read the esoteric nicknames and images painted on their helmets.

From the park, Allen and I encountered a flier for the Anthro and Agoraphobic alike. It’s the Vital-Orbit personal Human Force Field device, and is designed to prevent conflict; protect life; enable personal actualization and secure ultimate privacy.

The flier touts that it channels a user’s own Hydrodynamic Activities to create the desired protective effect. As much as I’m loving my new life out here, I have to admit I think there are certainly times I’d prefer to have something of this ilk in my arsenal.

I was smart this time and snapped a photo before Allan’s impatience set in and whisked us away. I figure since I have a photo I can give it some real scrutiny later, and at ease. For now, I’ve just been enjoying the company of my oft unseen fiance. We have the whole weekend together for the first time since moving out here, and I haven’t paid concern to anything else, for once, and it’s been cathartic.

Haze gray and underway

Dear San Fracisco, I posit a riddle to you: What's Red, White and gets rattled easily by unexpectedly loud noises screaming Hell across the sky?

The answer is resoundingly Katy Zwick as she dives for cover, spilling coffee and cheerios all over herself. It was only after this point I learned what the phrase "Fleet Week" meant, and I was left startled, soggy and secure in the knowledge the Cold War hadn't heated up.

For the uninitiated, Fleet Week is when the Navy swaggers into town with all the glamor and glitz that only a branch of the military could muster. They have tours of the ships available and the flamboyant Blue Angels puts on one of their traditional air maneuver displays. I'm told they practice the demonstration in the days prior to the actual event, effectively giving off a wonderfully free show over the city.

And when I say over the city, understand what I really mean is that they fly so low (and often so close to the north bay shore) that they should almost require California driver's plates below their afterburners.

Allan's workload is finally starting to relent, so he's planned a trek up to Alta Plaza for us to watch them this weekend. It should be fun to spend some time outside of brushing our teeth together.

Emperor of the West

Growing up in Ohio, I'm no stranger to the swath of stitched tracks left across the landscape by freight train lines. When I was a child I had the same healthy fascination with trains as much as the next kid, but I diverged from any semblance of normalcy when I hit my teenage years and became more fixated on the romanticism of "riding the rails." Of course I knew this wasn't a viable option, but when you're sixteen; mad at the your parents, the town you live in and the world at large in general--all for no real reason--an easy escape from Granville was an appealing day dream to indulge in.

I used to study the history (and almost urban mythos) behind Hobo glyphs. These were, in part, a series of symbols left behind by trail-blazing hobos to guide those who followed. They spoke of food, shelter and danger.

But they were so much more than just a calling card for a free-meal. These little glyphs were an innocuous addition to the environment and most people rarely, if ever, paid them any attention. For those who knew, however, they spoke volumes of a world and a lifestyle that also went largely unnoticed. Hobos riding the rails knew what to look for and could pick them out without consequence, and that's all that was important. They were a resourceful guide, hiding in plain sight.

Back in Granville I knew where every antiquated, hidden glyph was. They were still pretty proliferated around the rail lines, where life itself was almost frozen in a bubble of undeveloped time. Where as the glyphs around town almost surely disappeared as the town modernized. When I was younger my favorites were always "Kind lady lives here" and "Gentleman lives here" simply due to how straight forward the symbols for each was.

I haven't thought about Hobo glyphs in years, until this weekend, when I found a duo in the city. They weren't far off from where Union Square is and they were remarkable to find. It was a thrilling injection of nostalgia in my life to be reminded of the joy these curious little symbols brought me. The only catch is, one was the circle-and-two-arrows of "Hit the road, quick!" (I'm sure of it), while the other glyph was something I didn't recognize. I stared at it, and studied it, and worked it over and over in my mind trying to make sense of the insensible.

I did all of this, of course, until Allan got impatient with me and drug me away--which means I never actually ended up with a picture of it, but I do remember it well. It was circular, or O-shaped, with two prongs on it, like rabbit ears. The bizarre thing about it all, is that I can't shake the sensation of familiarity it gave me. I plan to go back and take a picture when my schedule permits.

I hope it's still there.

We Can Remember it for You, Wholesale

This flier is so wondrously Philip K. Dick that I so want it to be real. It says the following:

Here at the MEMORY-TO-MEDIA CENTER we are able to render moving video images from your active memory. It begins with an analog signal produced by your brain waves. As the memory is recalled, electrodes places on the scalp detect the signals which are then processed and recorded. The result is a frame-by-frame transcription of the recalled event. Through our patented optical converters, we are able to see a visual likeness of your recollections. With this special system YOUR MEMORIES can be saved to VHS cassette!

It then lists the types of services that the Center offers, and I'd list them here, but is truly much more satisfying to just call the number and listen to the voicemail:

Memory to Media Center
415-325-4822

90% is Success is Just Showing Up

A mighty bit self explanatory... sorta.

All Points Bulletin, [Parnoimia Redux]

Have you seen this man? The suspect has on 4 occasions broke in to our Richmond District apartment and molested my wife and self (foot/leg fondling) during our sleep, he always leaves evidence of his presence afterwards. The artist’s rendering was created from a recent eye witness account by a friend and neighbor. Any information leading to his capture will be rewarded with $20,000 or equivalent value in advisement and betterment services.

Call 415-422-9601 or email: ejamuel@yahoo.com

This is quite possibly the weirdest flier I’ve run across yet. Honestly, since I live just inside the Richmond, I didn’t entirely know how to feel about it, and of course calling the actual number was right out.

000 Montgomery

Do you have a promising start-up company? A team of eager and ready workers? A golden idea set to revolutionize, well, the world?

Fantastic for you! But what about an office building? Oh, I see, you hadn’t thought about that, had you?

Well spunky, young entrepreneur, you’re just in luck because I met just the man to help you out! His name is Edric Kilimann and he owns the office building at 000 Montgomery street.

You can see more about his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by visiting 000Montgomery.com. The gist of it is that Mr. Kilimann stands in a predominant location at the corner of Market and Montgomery and sells ad space for his “office building”, which is more or less a brief-case display of various business cards.

It’s actually very ingenious. I task myself now with getting a business card just for this occasion.

When Memes Converge

My latest love of all things strange has blossomed into a hunt for strange fliers, considering the regularity in which I come across them in the city. Just today I saw one that said something like "LOL Cat replies to Cheezburger!" It's hard enough as is figuring out what it means, already knowing the meme it's referencing, but to help facilitate it's elucidation there was a phone number to call.

I figured "Why not?" and gave it a ring, only to hear a prerecorded message ask me if I'd like to hear a hardcore rap song about LOLCATS! I suppose if I had a list comprised of such things, I could now safely cross it off.

EDIT:
I didn't manage to get a picture while I was out and about, but I did find one online that someone else took, which you can feast your eyes upon yourselves...

Paranoimia

Alert: Be Aware
Microwave Harassment
Emanations in this Area!

I found this Elsewhere Public Works Alert & Be Aware sign greeting me this morning on the side of a utility box downtown. I don't know if you can make out the text in the photo, but it is a hilariously tin-foil caliber affair.

Its tone is heavily reminiscent of this lot here. Which, let's face it Dear Reader, is an afternoon of reading and guilty pleasure indulgence to be sure. Some choice bits include:

Sally: Frequent thefts and sabotage of my belongings to the point that I now can't afford three meals a day. I experience theft and sabotage of my food and kitchenware.

David: Here are a few things that happen in my life:

* Cabinet and drawer handles held on by screws are repeatedly loosened ARTIFICIALLY.
* Magnetic latches on cabinets are loosened ARTIFICIALLY so that the cabinet doors will not latch properly.
* Wood veneers on drawers and cabinets are partially peeled off ARTIFICIALLY and warped somehow. Severely warped inside veneers also interfere with door latch operation.
* There seems to be much more dirt in my life than there should be. My apartment rapidly accumulates dust and sand, especially on the floors, as if somebody is sprinkling a small amount each time I am out. The dust bunnies are the most puzzling. I thought that they are a combination of spider webs and ordinary dust, but they also happen during the dead of winter, when there are few if any spiders, because there are no insects on which to feed.

[Eleanor White talking: ME TOO on that sprinkling of dirt and dust when I'm out! And, the placing of moths in my apartment when I'm out.]

The New World Order is apparently here, and it's infiltrating our lives via poorly manufactured kitchen fixture, dustbunnies and terribly mysterious moths. I think it's clear the Shadow Government is being run by the stockholders of Hoover and Black & Decker, respectively.

Stranger in a Strange [City]; but the company is great

You can't go far without running into yet another best-kept-secret in town worth eating at, but it starts to put a dent in the pocket book before too long, so other means become prevalent. The one that comes recommended most is Trader Joe's (an all natural place), and considering now that I'm living on the west-coast and the two-buck-chuck actually costs two bucks (unlike Ohio's detestable three dollars!) I was sold on it.

I've found Muni to be a good barometer for the types of wondrous characters the populace has to offer. During my second time making the voyage to Trader Joe's I sat on the bus next to a man who shared his seat with a cockatoo on his shoulder, wearing a _leash and collar_ like some sort of Certified Avian Seeing-Eye Helper. I was ambivalent toward what I found more astonishing: This man's unique companion or the lack of any discernible reaction out of the other passengers around him. As though an exotic bird perched upon this bony watchtower--elegantly, like a modern day Pirate of Penzance--were no more out of place than a hat or a scarf and comes across by this point as a drab thing to behold.

I was still a bit too shy by my surroundings to chat him up, though after our paths diverged I recalled I should have asked him about the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill I've heard about. L'esprit de l'escalier!

Science & Industry™ (Patent Pending)

Allan's been kept real busy in his new position, which doesn't afford him much time to let his hair down. What this means, however, is that I find myself with more than enough time on my hands, which can be a potentially hazardous thing when I spend it reading over sites like this. Allan is likely to come home to find I've constructed a miniature Hadron Collider in the living room.

Should he be worried?

I've spent the entire day absorbing this caliber of stuff, and to my dismay it's after seven already! Perhaps if I had one of these I could solve both my problems and be a cutting edge fashionista to boot.

Hello, Hello... (I don't know why you say goodbye)

Hello Dear Loved Ones (and the occasional Stranger or two)!

A hectic five days and 2500 miles has come to a final crash-landing end in my new digs in the City by the Bay.

Since I have left the only place I have known as home for the majority of life, my journey has already been blessed with a colorful taste of what life outside Granville has to offer. I've had time again to read On The Road, get a coffee addiction and a suntan on one side of my body as we forged westward to look for America. Simon and Garfunkel would be proud.

Allan did most of the drive, for which I am thankful and no doubt he is too, or else our trip would have been considerably waylaid by stopping off at every roadside attraction and iconic detour that appealed to me. But his new job dictated our time table and I was resigned to be content with our brief detour through Boulder, CO (and a memorable jaunt down Pearl street).

I am still adjusting to my new life in a different time zone and giving myself permission to be patient to that end. Our place is on the edge of Golden Gate park which has helped my transition into the city feel less claustrophobic. The fragrance at night is a scent strong with nostalgia I won't soon forget.

And before this chatter gets so long that people stop reading, I just wanted to say “Hi” (as does Alan, between the ambivalence of joy and hitting the ground running) and let you know what I am up to... in its vague birth stages. I will share more when it develops.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled internet.