I'm sad to say it, but Movember is finished. All in all, I raised $225 to help raise awareness for men's health issues. And because I raised over $200, I was able to attend, for free, the prestigious Mo Gala at the Capitale in Manhattan. As mentioned earlier, Jill's had some health issues in her family that made it impossible for her to attend. But our good friend Jackie filled in admirably. The event was a big dance party, and we had a lot of fun. We were a bit miffed by the outrageous drink prices (seriously, $10 for wine and champagne? $9 for beer? $6 for water? Please . . .), but that was somewhat ameliorated by a sweet goody bag, which included a Norelco razor! Sadly, I did not win any of the awards (best Mo, best costume, etc.), but come on, look at these pictures -- do you think anyone there looked better than me?
So now that Movember is over, I've shaved off the Mo -- although it was a lot of fun, I really think I'm more of a beard man. I've gone completely clean shaven, and I'm now rebuilding the beard from the ground up. Check the Mo-less Niko:
Once again, a huge thank you to everyone who contributed money to my Mo fund. Words can't express my gratitude.
Now that we're back in New York, I think that will just about do it for this blog. I'm going to keep on blogging over at my site, scream|whisper|shout|stutter (http://nikotaylor.vox.com/), and you can keep tabs on Jillian's music over at http://myspace.com/jillianlubow and http://jillianlubow.vox.com/. Thanks for reading -- it's been a lot of fun. Now that we're back in New York, however, you can see us in person, so pick up the phone and call us!
So, I'm very happy to report that Niko's Mo fund continues to roll along. I've received another donation, which brings my fund-raising total to $225.00! I can't believe I've raised this much money. Thank you all for your support.
And, as always, with a donation comes a Mo update. Here's the mustache's current state:
I'm also excited to report that the big Mo Gala is this Tuesday evening in Manhattan. Jill's go some health issues in her family at the moment, so she won't be able to come along -- but our great friend Jackie has kindly offered to be my date. I'll be sure to post here about the evening, along with pictures -- I'm sure there will be some interesting and bizarre mustaches to be seen!
Last, but certainly not least, we're back in New York! Honestly, we've been so busy that we haven't even had time to process the fact that we're back: there's been preparing for traveling, traveling, Thanksgiving, catching up with family members, finding a place to stay (our Brooklyn apartment will be occupied until December 22 by our subletters) -- it's been a whirlwind few days. I think once all this craziness dies down and we're back in Brooklyn, in our apartment, with all our stuff, maybe having just seen our friends in our dear city -- maybe then we can sit back and say, Wow, we were in California! And now we're back! Wasn't that awesome?!? Until then, however, we're just getting by.
I'm going to keep posting here with the final Movember updates (and maybe one last round of San Francisco pictures), but after that, I'll be switching gears, focusing on my newly revamped blog (and music site), http://nikotaylor.vox.com/. If you're interested in following my musings, follow me over there!
I cannot believe the generosity of all the wonderful people in my life. With the latest donation, we are now up to $220! I know it's not a huge amount of money, but come on: it's $220 going toward efforts to promote men's health issues that wasn't there before. And that's all because of YOU! Way to go!
So here goes the Mo. By the way, also check my swanky Bumble & Bumble haircut. This is by far the nicest haircut I've ever gotten -- they even used a razor to eat into the daunting thickness of my inky mane!
My dear Jillian was kind enough to give me my Christmas gift early: the totally rockin' Canon EOS Digital Rebel XTI. Yes, that's right, no more point and shoot for Niko: this is a man's camera, baby!
I've still got a ton to learn, but here were some of the shots I was happy with on my first day of playing around with it. Enjoy!
The other weekend, Jill and I had the pleasure of visiting this very interesting art installation. It's located in such a beautiful spot: on the northern edge of the city, you're standing right on the water with EVERYTHING in front of you -- the Golden Gate, the bay, Alcatraz, everything! So, of course, we had to take a picture:
And, of course, Niko had to take a dip in the water:
One thing I can tell you about the San Francisco Bay in November is that it is damn cold.
But anyway, I digress. The Wave Organ. So it's this weird stone structure at the end of this long strip of land jutting into the bay. It's so jagged and rocky that it almost looks ancient. So, of course, Niko had to take a picture (do you a theme developing here?):
There's all there are all these strange-looking tubes poking out from the ground, and when you stick your ear up close to one of them, you can can hear the sound of the water sloshing around below your feet. Very cool. So, of course, Niko had to take some video to capture the experience. Enjoy!
Golden Gate Bridge? Nah. Presidio? Please. Embarcadero? Eh, maybe. Really, there's only one choice: Amoeba Music, the world's best record store. Located in the Haight, Amoeba is the music store to end all music store. Their selection is HUGE, especially in terms of used stuff. And the store is enormous, well organized, and just, in every possible way, a music aficionado's dream come true.
I mean, they've got listening stations where you can scan in any title and listen to the whole album right there. And did I mention the prices? How about almost any used CD from the Elvis Costello back catalog for $4.99? Or a whole other cornucopia of great stuff for not much more?
About a week ago, I had the great pleasure of spending about three hours wandering around this enormous musical treasure trove. I picked up a grocery-store-style basket and filled it up with stuff, listened to samples, rethought my choices, put stuff back, grabbed more stuff, discovered things I didn't know wanted, remembered things I forgot I wanted -- oh my goodness, I was in heaven. The most I paid? $9.99 for a brand-new copy of Tom Waits's excellent Frank's Wild Years. Not too bad at all!
Seriously, this will be the thing I miss most about SF. Well, this and burritos!
Anyway, check out my haul from my last visit to Amoeba is quite some time. :-(
Thanks so much -- we've reached our goal of $200! Our friend Marissa's kind donation put us over the top, and now Jill gets to go to the swanky Mo gala party with me for free. Woo hoo! It's being held at the end of the month at the Capitale. Apparently this is some very fancy place: their tag line is "Elegance Redefined." Well, wait to we get through those doors -- they won't know what to do with our un-refined asses! But, really, thank you all for your contributions. It is really gratifying to raise all this money for a good cause.
And, just so you know that I'm keeping up my end of the bargain, here's the latest mustache shot:
I am so happy to report that my Mo fund is up to $175! So many friends and family have come up with very generous donations. It's been amazing. Really, to all of you, thank you so much. Now that we've passed the $100 mark, I am officially going to the fancy NY Movember gala event. If we can raise just $25 more, than I can also bring a guest. Since you all know that Jill loves a good party, let's get that last $25 so Jill can dance her butt off (for charity, of course)!
And, just so you know that I'm holding up my end of the bargain, here's the latest Mo update:
So the "Mo" movement is in full swing. Two SUPER generous friends have already donated, and the "Mo" fund is up to $75 -- way to go! We're only $25 away from the $100 target, which will get me a free pass to this fancy benefit gala thing at the end of the month. I am so touched by the kindness and warmth of the first two contributors -- really, thanks so much.
And, just so you don't think I'm not holding up my end of the bargain, here's a progress report on my Mo:
In other news, Jillian and I can't wait to get New York. In all honesty, we're getting kind of depressed that we're not back already. We're going out, we're making the most of our time here, but we're a bit like castaways, nomads, just roaming around San Francisco, biding our time until we can return to our homeland.
For me, the ultimate sign that we were depressed and ready to come home was when we went to the movies this past weekend. When I was in Paris doing a study abroad program during college, I was lonely, bored out of my mind, depressed, and terribly homesick. I didn't even make it two weeks before ditching the program and coming back to the states. And while I was there, I went to the movies, by myself, almost every day. I mainly watched American movies; I just wanted to feel connected to the country and culture I was missing, and to just get away for a while, to not think about how lonely I was.
Well, that's what Jill and I did this weekend. We saw the Darjeeling Limited, the new Wes Anderson movie. While we came in depressed, we left uplifted. This is a special, special movie. Jillian and I have been on a Wes Anderson kick lately, getting reacquainted with (and really loving) Rushmore and the Royal Tenenbaums, so we were really excited to see this. This story of three American brothers on a somewhat-foolhardy spiritual quest across India moved me in a way that I haven't felt in a long time. Jillian and I walked out of the theater in a daze, still in the grip of this tender, beautiful, sad, and funny film. In a way, I don't think we wanted to leave the world of the movie. For myself, I can say that I walked out feeling very contemplative, subdued, appreciative of the blessings in my life, and open to experiences as they came my way (in much the way that Owen Wilson's character wants him and brothers to feel as a result of their trip).
And though we may be late to this party, how amazing is Adrian Brody? While everyone in this film gives very strong performances, Brody is in a class by himself. Our friend Brad told us that Brody's face was mesmerizing in this film, and he was right. In fact, Brody's entire body is mesmerizing. He doesn't just act with his words -- everything about him screams his character, from his facial expressions to the way he carries his body to the way he flails his limbs. We've now put every Adrian Brody film we can find on our Netflix queue because we just have to see everything this amazing actor has done. Because of Brody's incredible performance, I have a feeling that this is one of those movies that I'll be able to watch over and over and over again over the course of my life. He was that good.
Also, like any Wes Anderson movie, this movie has a killer soundtrack. Three of the pop songs prominently featured in the film are from the Kinks, all taken from their 1970 album Lola versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, Part One. I'm a huge Kinks fan, but I've never heard this album, which, now, hearing this songs, I can't believe -- these are incredible, some of the best Kinks there is. So, not only am I grateful for this movie for introducing me to Mr. Brody, but I'm also grateful for being introduced to this wonderful group of the songs from one of my favorite groups, especially the song "Strangers." This song, to me, is spirituality captured in song, the actual sound of the human spirit longing toward something better, something bigger, something that makes the grime and grit worth it. And when the swell of voices intone in the chorus, "Strangers on this road we are on, we are not two, we are one," well, stick a fork in me, I'm done -- one of those perfect musical moments that makes it all worth it.
So even though we went to the movies somewhat out of a sense of depression, we were the better for it -- I know this movie is going to stick with me for a long, long time.
To catch a quick glimpse of what I'm talking about, check out the film's trailer, below. You'll see some of Brody's magnetism and hear a bit of each of the three amazing Kinks songs featured in the movie:
So Jillian can't be the only one to make drastic changes in San Francisco. She's cut off her hair, so I'm going one step further and chopping of most of my beard. Inspired by a blog post from our friend Brianna, I've decided to take part in the Movember movement to help raise money for men's health awareness.
During Movember (the month formerly known as November) I'll be growing a Mo (slang for moustache). That's right - I'm bringing the Mo back because I'm passionate about men's health and the fight against prostate cancer. Why?
Prostate cancer is the most common non-skin cancer in America. In 2007, more than 218,000 men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer and more than 27,000 American men will die from the disease. To sponsor my Mo (moustache) and fight against prostate cancer please go to http://www.movember.com/us/donate, enter my registration number, which is 145168, and your credit card details. (You can also just click on the handy link on the top of the right-hand column of this very blog!) Or you can sponsor me by check made payable to the "Prostate Cancer Foundation" clearly marking the donation as being for my registration number: 145168. Please mail checks to: Prostate Cancer Foundation, Attn: Movember, 1250 Fourth St, Santa Monica, CA 90401.
All donations are made directly to the Prostate Cancer Foundation which will use the funds for high-impact research to find better treatments and a cure for prostate cancer. The Prostate Cancer Foundation is a 501(c)(3) organization. All donations are tax-deductible to the full extent permitted by law.
Movember culminates at the end of the month at the Gala Partés. These glamorous and groomed events will see Tom Selleck and Borat look-a-likes battle it out for their chance to take home the prestigious Man of Movember title. If you would like to be part of this great night you'll need to purchase a Gala Parté ticket. If I raise $100, I get to go to this event for free. If I raise $200, I get to bring someone along with me!
Follow this blog for updates on my fund-raising progress and for pictures of my developing Mo. To get the ball rolling on that, here's a picture of me taken last night, waiting for the bus after an excellent sushi dinner in Noe Valley:
And here's me, this morning, with a freshly shaven mug:
Here we go! By the way, since we're coming back to New York early, those on the east coast will get to see this Mo in action in less than three weeks!
This past weekend, Jillian and took a great walk around the city. We took the MUNI to the Ferry Building and got breakfast, walked up the Embarcadero to Fisherman's Wharf, down through North Beach, and back to downtown, where we grabbed the MUNI back home to Potrero Hill. In a sense, we were celebrating our choice to come back to NY early. Ever since we made that decision, we've both felt re-energized about exploring the city. It's nothing against San Francisco, but knowing we're going back to NY in less than a month lightens our spirits tremendously, and it also injects an urgency into our appreciation of California. We'll be flying back to New York on November 20, two days before our sublease on the San Francisco place runs out. Instead of finding another place here in SF, we decided to go with our home sickness and be in New York for Thanksgiving. Our place in Brooklyn is still sublet through the end of the year, but our good friend Jackie has been been kind enough to let us stay in one of the bedrooms of her Upper West Side apartment for the end of November and December. So, really, it's all worked out for the best -- we're getting a great taste of SF, we'll get a better taste of Manhattan (we haven't lived there since college), and, best of all, we'll be back home in Bay Ridge in no time at all!
So back to our day. North Beach is a pretty famous San Francisco neighborhood. In addition to being being San Francisco's Little Italy, it was also the epicenter of the Beat Movement, the 1950s/1960s U.S. artistic explosion led by Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs, and Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Ferlinghetti opened the City Lights Bookstore in 1953 on Columbus Avenue, which, in addition to being a cutting-edge bookstore and cultural landmark for the Beats, was also a book publisher. Most famously, City Lights published Allen Ginsberg's famous, controversial, and influential Howl and Other Poems.
In addition to being a pretty cool bookstore, the building is a very important cultural landmark, especially for me. The Beats, and specifically Allen Ginsberg, were what got me into creativity and writing. Reading them and learning about their achievements opened up to me a whole world of possibility and change. They were really where I learned about being cool. Just standing in front of the City Lights Bookstore feels special. Just to think that very important events took place here, to just be there, is very humbling. Here's a picture I took of the store's facade:
There's a another thread of connection with me and Ferlinghetti. Even though he opened his store in North Beach, he made his permanent San Francisco home in Potrero Hill, where Jill and I are living right now. And it's also rumored that Allen Ginsberg probably wrote most of "Howl" while staying in Potrero Hill with another Beat figure living in the neighborhood, his partner, Peter Orlovsky. To have all these connections and associations with these towering figures of my imagination, oh, it's just great.
I was able to find some video of Lawrence Ferlinghetti from the 1960s in Potrero Hill. It's got some nice footage of the neighborhood back then, and you hear him reading a neat poem about San Francisco. Enjoy!
And lastly, this afternoon, while standing on our porch, making some phone calls, I was struck by how beautiful the neighborhood looked. In the blazing afternoon sun, the rolling hills, with houses upon houses cascading toward the horizon, oh my goodness, it was just wonderful. Jillian and I don't regret our decision to leave, but we definitely will miss this place. Check it out:
Okay guys, guess what? Our sublet is up on November 22nd, and instead of searching for a new place to stay in the second greatest city in the US, we've decided to spend December in our number one, firstest, bestest, favoritest city - NYC, baby!
That's right - we're coming back early. We're having a blast on the west coast, we really are, but we miss you all, and we miss our city, and we couldn't imagine spending the holiday season anywhere else.
More details to come - for now, we miss you and we love you and we'll see you soon!
Last week, Jillian and I had such a great experience. Ken, our friend and one of Jill's work colleagues, happened to be in San Francisco and wound up staying with us for a few days. He had gone to Stanford and had lived in San Francisco for a few months, so he knew the area very well. First of all, Ken introduced us a bunch of his favorite places in the city, little out-of-the-way spots we wouldn't have known about otherwise. The most impressive of these was his favorite burrito place in the Mission, El Farolito, at Mission & 24th. Seriously, if you ever come to San Francisco, make this your first stop. It doesn't look like much (it's a bit dingy inside!), but when you bite into that thick, moist, mushy, flat-out heavenly burrito, you'll have really learned not to judge a book by it's cover!
As if that weren't enough, he also took us on a car trip! Through another friend of his in the city, he happened to have access to a car, and he offered to take us driving so that we could see the area south of the city. We drove down to Palo Alto and checked out the Stanford campus, checked out Ken's favorite Stanford-area burrito place (are you noticing a pattern here?), and, most impressively, drove up this ridiculously tall mountain, which afforded spectacular views of the San Francisco Bay and the Pacific Ocean. It was really spellbinding. Yes, living in New York, we're around the ocean all the time, but this was different. In New York, you're rarely looking at the ocean itself -- you're usually on a river, a bay, a sound, a harbor, something. I've been out to Montauk, all the way on the eastern tip of Long Island, and there, yes, you're just staring out at the big wide ocean, and it's incredible. Well, that was the case here, except that we were on a huge mountain, and it was sunset, and there were all these swirly clouds coming in off the coast, and we could see the fog creeping its way through the hills and mountains, making its way toward the city, and oh my goodness, it was just superb! The pictures below don't do the experience justice at all, but really, it was quite special. It made me feel very small, in a very good way -- just taking in that huge ocean, that huge vista, that open space.
So, Ken, here's to you -- thanks for the burritos, the sunsets, and the memories!
Last night Niko and I visited the Herbst Theater to see Music for Two Pianos (listen to excerpts by following the link). It was a very classy evening indeed, as it involved both of us getting dressed up, a dinner that included ceviche and steak, and a cab ride home. Here's what I wore:
Here's what Niko wore:
Plus I think we were the youngest people at the performance - boy those society geriatrics come out of the woodwork for things like this. Standing with the intellectual oldies on the will-call line might've been enough entertainment for me. Guys, seriously, it's not hard to form a straight line, NOT stray from it and then wander back when you feel like it. Take a step forward when the line shifts up a person . . . and please, please, after you've picked up your tickets could you not form a small cluster right in the line with your other oldie friends so that I think you're still waiting when you're really you're just taking up space and making me look like a fool when the person inside the will-call box says, "Next!" and I don't step forward?
The Music
The event showcased several established and emerging composers. We were there because the music of Philip Glass was being featured - he's debuting he's newest opera, about Civil War heroes, in San Francisco so there are a lot of events around it featuring some of his older works. We walked in a few minutes late (which I consider an achievement - me and Niko are usually too worried about getting in trouble to be late for anything - who we'd be in trouble with, I couldn't tell you. It's just a thing we both have. Anyway at dinner we realized we could either rush to leave and get to the performance on time or actually savor our steak and get there ten minutes late - we chose late. And we left the performance early, too - what has San Francisco done to us? Heathens are we!) but were able to take our seats because the show wasn't sold out at all. Glass's pieces were up first, and they were just mesmerizing - he's such a great cinematic composer, his music puts you in a trance and you can't help but imagine scenes of cold autumn mornings, people longing for other people, sadness, mystery, what have you. It was just wonderful.
And it was made even more wonderful after the next two works by emerging composers sucked it up big time. It was like anti-music. The sounds were reminiscent of family gatherings in my house, when the small children would get at the piano and some would bang on the low end and some would bang on the high end, and then the rowdiest of the children would eventually sit on the middle keys. Seriously, not good, at all.
After the intermission we heard some Bach music arranged for four-handed piano - man, he is the s#%&. He put the rest of the composers to shame, even Philip Glass. We decided to skip out right after his piece was finished, so that we left with a good taste in our mouths - more emerging composer work was set to finish off the evening.
After the Music
So after we got back home Niko and I talked for quite some time about the anti-music we'd heard. Niko started off by saying that music may be the most objective of all art forms - in other words, there are some sounds that are universally awful. That was a pretty bold statement, so we chipped away at that for a while. In the end, yes, it's a matter of taste, someone's gotta like it (i.e. the composer), it's just not for us, or for most. But man that's a hard thing to admit.
I decided that the only way I would deem the emerging works a success is if they were supposed to be jarring, annoying, and poorly written so that we'd be forced to go home and talk about music and aesthetics and subjectivity. Then the pieces totally worked; the composers, geniuses. That totally wasn't their aim, though - in fact, the program notes contained many paragraphs of explanation for each of the works, written by the composers, and they were pretty cheesy if you ask me. One was supposed to represent the way the sun moves across the sky . . . are you kidding me? Because all I heard was droning, repetitive, low notes that wished they were part of a Philip Glass piece gnashing against endlessly upward-moving and increasingly annoying right-hand banging.
The Conclusion
Niko and I agreed that all art has the opportunity to tell a story, and, for us at least, good artists are the ones who tell the story well. Not every artist wants to tell a story, I guess, but I don't think that's the kind of art we're drawn to. We like a good story. Philip Glass? Great stories. Bach? You bet your sweet bippy. The other guys? Not so much.
Final note: The two pianists were AMAZING. I'm so blown away by technical skill
So we're here, we're here, we're here! Oh goodness, we are having such a great time. In fact, we're having so much fun that we haven't been bored enough to sit down and blog! :-)
The city is great, our house is great, and perhaps the best thing about the whole trip are the great things Jillian and I are learning about ourselves and the world around us.
To give you a small inkling of how things are going, check out our Flickr SF photo set.
And if you have any reason or excuse to be on the west coast, please visit us here in lovely Potrero Hill!
Gotta run -- dinner with friends in Noe Valley. More to come . . .
With now just a few days before we start our journey West - we take off for Chicago Friday morning! - my anxiety is beginning to build over the two flights we'll need to take in order to get to San Francisco. Whenever someone tries to tell me goodbye, I'm always sure to add 'for now' so as not to tempt fate to make this the very last time I say goodbye to this person. Or when Niko says 'just one more week and we're gone' I say 'no, one more week and we go to San Francisco'. That's totally lame and annoying, I know. I'm going to try to stop doing that.
My anxiety stops me from being too happy about the move - which is crazy, because really I'm bursting at the seams with excitement. But knowing that I've got to survive Friday's Chicago flight AND Sunday's San Francisco flight - well, that's tough. It's hard to see past that. I consider two flights in one weekend nearly insurmountable. I feel like thinking beyond the flight is foolish, because the odds of actually making it to SF alive are so slim (the odds of crashing are actually like one in a billion, but come on, how do you tell that to an unreasonable instinct?).
I'm also starting to have those kind of nervous episodes at night - racing heart, racing thoughts, shallow breaths, terrifying scenarios playing out - which I don't enjoy very much. That's probably what's behind all the recent anxiety - the fearful thoughts I can't seem to wish away, coupled with the involuntary physical reaction. You'd think the fear of flying causes the physical reaction, but could it also be that the physical reaction causes the fear of flying? I mean, if the mere thought of being in an airplane triggers the signs of some kind of major bodily meltdown, why wouldn't I do everything in my power to avoid having to think about it? So I develop a phobia that generally keeps me grounded, thus eliminating my brain's need to think about it.
One of the things I'd talked about in my fear of flying therapy sessions was the reaction my body has to flying; the thought is if I can isolate the sensations from each other, as well as isolate them from thoughts about flying, I can significantly decrease my fear. For example, as the plane is speeding up on the runway getting ready for takeoff, that kind of crushing feeling you get in your chest from sheer velocity is very similar to the racing heart and shortened breath feeling you get when you're scared. If I can remind myself while we're speeding up that I am not, in fact, growing short of breath or having a heart attack or some other life-threatening episode - rather, I'm acting out a physics 101 lesson - there's a chance I can prevent the snowball effect of a panic attack.
I don't know - it's a really interesting thought, a thoughtful approach to the fear. If I'm not too scared to remember this post, I may actually experiment with it on Friday.
So, Jill and I have have been terrible at blogging lately. But now that our trip is almost a week away, I'm starting to feel REALLY excited. I mean, I can't wait to go. We'll post later this week with more details about our place in Potrero Hill, but right now, we've got to talk about Bullitt.
In preparation of our trip, Jill and I have been trying to watch as many movies as we can that take place in San Francisco. First on our list was Just Like Heaven, which, um, well, that's about all there is to say about that. But next was Bullitt, one of the most well-known and influential thriller/crime movies ever made. Steve McQueen plays a Die Hard-type cop -- hates authority, breaks all the rules, gets all the ladies, and, most important, gets the job done. McQueen is great for this role, and the outfits are ridiculous. Made in 1968, this movie features what I think is the the quintessential 60s/70s outfit -- really, who would be caught dead today wearing a blue turtleneck with a brown sports coat (in California, of all places)?!? Check it out.
So, Jill hated the movie. It put her to sleep. I, on the other hand, really enjoyed it. I'm not surprised that Jill hated it, however. The appeal of this movie is very much like the appeal of noir films and novels. You have to find interesting a quiet, taciturn, macho cop/detective who treats women indifferently at best and who broods over the existential ugliness of the world as his works shows him the dirty underbelly of society. It's a very "guy" type of story. Well, despite the fact that I'm not really a macho kind of guy, I eat this stuff up. A few years ago, in fact, I wrote a long article (check it out here) about noir, 20s/30s writer Dashiell Hammett, one of my favorites. As was the case with Bullitt, Jill can't STAND noir stuff -- she thinks it's stupid, boring, and macho. In the article I wrote, I tried my best to defend my beloved genre, though I don't think I convinced her!
Anyway, back to the movie. The most famous part of this movie, by far, is the chase scene. Apparently, it was one of the first long, drawn-out, highly orchestrated chase scenes ever done, and it has influenced pretty much every chase scene that's come after. Well, let me tell you, it doesn't disappoint. It's awesome. It makes great use of the city, as well: these two cars are zooming down SF's insanely steep hills, pulling hairpin turns at the bottom of those hills, and, in the most well-know part, actually take flight, propelled by bump after bump on those crazy inclines and declines. Even better, the entire chase scene is available on YouTube. God, I love the Internet:
I've been holding off on writing this post until the fully signed sublease agreement arrived in the mail, but I just can't wait - we've found our place! From October 1 through November 22 we will be living in a lovely two-bedroom house on 20th and Mississippi in the Potrero Hill neighborhood of San Francisco. We are SO excited!
Okay, for now that's it. Details and pics to come once every 'i' is dotted and 't' is crossed.
One of my motivations for starting this blog was to create a space where I could creatively work through my fear of flying. Right now, my plan is to post a few entries prior to the flight, and hopefully write an entry while in-flight. The in-flight posting will in part be an attempt at self-distraction, though I doubt it will work, but more importantly it will be a real-time record of my experience that I can reflect on once I'm back on the ground (fingers' crossed).
Writing about my fear of flying is proving to be incredibly hard - I've actually re-rewritten a few sentences already, which is so unlike me, since I'm more of a blurt-it-all-out-don't-even-think-about-what-you're-writing type of writer. For me the mere suggestion of flying provokes a fear response in me, so writing about it - I mean, my hands are all shaky and I'm typing sloppy and thinking too fast and everything. Isn't that so odd, that the body can respond to a stimulus that isn't there, the idea of the stimulus?
Anyway, I have two reasons for writing this first fear of flying post:
1. I just had to book a round-trip flight to Florida for next weekend (Niko's grandpa passed away - we got to see him in May, though, which was nice), which means I've got to fly NEXT WEEKEND, a good eight weeks before I thought I was getting on a plane.
2. I just booked us our tickets from Chicago to San Francisco, the second leg of our trip out there. It means we're going, and we're flying, definitely flying.
I've had two fear of flying sessions so far with an art therapist who kicks serious ass, but now that I'm flying NEXT WEEK I'll probably need to get in there one more time. Oh, and I hear Ambien works well, so I'm gonna try to score that too (if any of you already have some Ambien lying around let me know). Although the thought of Ambien is pretty funny, since it's been known to make people sleep-eat and sleep-drive and such. I wonder what kind of behavior I'll exhibit while all drugged up - will I try to eat the food off other people's airline trays while sleeping? Actually, would anyone really care if I ate their airline food?
What's great about every flight I have to take between now and SF is that Niko and at least one other person I know will be on each flight. For Florida, we're going with Niko's mom, stepdad, and half-brother Dylan, who is 8 and couldn't care less about flying. From New York to Chicago, I've got a handful of friends, and from Chicago to SF, yet another friend. I must tell you I feel like the luckiest girl in the world that it all worked out. I worked hard to arrange my flights this way, because:
1. I'm pretty convinced none of these people will die on airplanes - it just wouldn't suit them (think I'm crazy yet?).
2. The more people I know on the plane, the less likely it is that I'll make a damn fool of myself by flipping out.
And by flipping out what exactly do I mean? It's kind of a 'you-name-it, I've-done-it' thing - crying, yelling, kicking, curling up into a ball, getting sick (at the terminal, on the plane, and for a while any time I had to pick someone up or drop someone off at the airport), crying, holding my ears shut, putting blankets over my head - and did I mention crying? Oh, and once, a few years ago, I totally dug my nails into my friend's thigh on a flight home from Paris and marked him up pretty good.
But no worries, because I REALLY don't like looking like a fool in front of people I know (scarred-leg friend aside). Well, not that kind of fool - the crazy kind. I can tolerate being the tipsy kind of fool (Ambien mixers, anyone?).
During the day I handle my impending flights pretty well, but I'm starting to lie in bed at night and think bad thoughts. I'd really like to put an end to that. If anyone has suggestions, please let me know. I gots to schedule me another fear of flying session. Will write again after that.
I am nearing my wit's end, I can feel it. I've been checking craigslist religiously for weeks now, and I've been searching on vacation rental sites and corporate rental sites, and I've been emailing at least ten people a day, and NOTHING IS WORKING OUT! I've had a few sublet situations come up that are so close, so close!, but for one reason or another they just don't quite fit and we strike out. At the moment, we've got two possible options that look ok - one that's near perfect except for the fact that it's beyond our budget, and one just for the month of October that's way below budget but in sketch-town.
Now, I know the right thing to do is be patient and wait for the right situation to present itself - I know that, believe me I do. But come ON people - how come I was on top of my shit in subletting my place in Bay Ridge a good six weeks ago and yet it's rare to even find a craigslist posting that applies to the month of October yet? How come I can rent at an affordable rate and not stand to make any profit and yet I KNOW some of the SF sublets I'm looking at are asking way over what they pay? Am I the only reasonable, responsible person out there, or am I just too naive to see the way the world works?
The most recent issue of Rolling Stone was devoted to 1967 in order to celebrate the magazine's fortieth anniversary. A cool feature of the issue was sections devoted to each of the epicenters of musical activity during that tumultuous year: New York, Detroit, Memphis, LA, London, and, of course, San Francisco. Not only did Rolling Stone begin there, but it was the breeding ground of the Grateful Dead, the Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Timothy Leary and the LSD movement, and Allen Ginsberg and the Human Be-In phenomenon. Even though a lot has changed since then, SF seems to retain some spark of that optimism, idealism, and energy. I think that legacy is part of what sucks in unsuspecting, innocent souls like Jill and me!
Everybody knows "I Left My Heart in San Francisco," made famous by Tony Bennett. For me, though, that's a little schmaltzy, as is the hippie classic (and namesake of this blog) "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)" (actually, that's a LOT schmaltzy). No, for me the song that makes my heart ache for the hilly peninsula is John Lee Hooker's riff on "I Left My Heart . . ." called "Frisco Blues." In the lazy blues rhythm, piping background singers, melancholy horns, and John Lee's world-worn voice, I get a vision of the city on the hill, misty, foggy, cool in the evening, romantic in the sunshine, a place that gives you blues when you're not there. When I think of the city, this song echoes in my head.
Share my SF melancholy (which will last until October) by listening to John Lee with me -- you can download the file for free here. (If you like the song, and how could you not?, you can buy the album from Amazon; there's also version on iTunes, but it's different from the one I love, so I can't vouch for it!)
Ok guess what? We found our subletters! They signed the lease this weekend, put down their deposit, everything. It's done. And, I think it's safe to say they're awesome - a Brooklyn pair who plans to travel in January and needs a place after their lease runs out in September. They worked for NPR. They like good music. I've been to their current apt in Boerum Hill and it's sweet. They couldn't be better suited.
So this means that the hunt for a San Fran sublet is officially ON! It's crazy, I keep finding these places that are, like, hundreds of dollars over my budget, but you know I email them anyway, and then I say to myself later 'why did you do that?' - but that kind of behavior is a common pattern in my life. I do that kind of thing all the time with clothing and beauty products - shopping online, I'll add $450 sandals to my 'shopping cart' and let them sit in there for days and days before finally deleting them.
And vacation stuff, omg, don't even get me started. Say I think to myself on a Thursday that maybe it would be awesome to just pick up and go somewhere for the weekend, somewhere cheap and not too far away. Before you know it, I'm looking at spa weekends out at Gurney's in Montauk in the height of the summer season. And I get all worked up and agitated that I can't afford it, and I come really close to just throwing it all on a credit card (which we don't even use anymore - we're a cash-only operation now) and doing it because, dammit, I deserve it.
Somehow my rational mind kicks in and I put the wallet down (not that I need my wallet - I memorized my AmEx number years ago) and then end up going nowhere. Because of course, in the end, I didn't need to get away for the weekend, right? Any time I get that super impulsive urge to spend a lot and get far away from wherever I am, I know it's because I'm unhappy about something that's going on in the moment. I need to figure out what it is and work to correct it. I get that. I really do. Just not until after I almost cross that line into expensive beachfront spa territory.
So, back to the sublet search: not counting the way-out-of-budget options, I think there is a good chance me and Niko will be really happy with what we find. We have time, we have the security of a subletter, we have some savings, and we have craigslist. There isn't a ton of stuff in our price range or our date range, but I think it's still a little early for October sublets. I'm gonna keep checking, though, every day; when our apartment is ready for us, it will reveal itself.
I constantly find myself running up against the same barrier: doing stuff. Shocking, yes, but true. Whenever I encounter something new, I am almost paralyzed by a sense of uneasiness: "But how can I do this? What do I do? Where do I go?" In planning this SF trip, Jill and I have come across many unforeseen or unfamiliar issues, and whenever that happens, I am gripped by fear and worry and panic. How do you sublet an apartment? How do you find a sublet? What about all our stuff? What about connections with friends? What about our mail?
In fact, when Jill and I were talking with our potential/probable subletters, the conversation turned to how they would pay us on a monthly basis. Should they just write us a check and mail it to SF? Or maybe they could set up a Pay Pal account and transfer the money to us that way? I began wrestling with the specifics of each case, the pros and cons, before saying what I always say in these situations: "Eh, it'll work out -- after all, people do it all the time."
People do it all the time. It's my saving grace, my mantra, my shining eternal truth. I can handle anything because, after all, people have done this before, and they were just like I am now. Looked at in that way, to hold on to my anxiety is sheer egotism. It is to say, "Sure, other did this and handled it just fine, but me, I'm different, and this minor uncertainty is ground for a national emergency!" I really don't want to live in such an unbalanced and obstinate matter. It's tiring to always be walking uphill. So unless I am setting out to do something truly unique, like passing through the time-space continuum or communing with the dead, I am comforted, buoyed, propped up, and emboldened by the knowledge that it can't be that hard because people do it all the time.
Okay, okay so I'm totally counting my chickens before they hatch but I think we might have founds our subletters! A darling couple, Brooklynites themselves who will be going on their own big adventure starting in January and need a place for a few months after their current lease expires. I'm going to look into forms and references and deposits and all that tomorrow morning. Woohoo!
Niko just said to me, 'Well, it looks like what could have been the hardest part wasn't so hard.' And that may be true. But everything we've taken care of so far could have been the hardest part - getting the blessing to travel and work remotely; getting the thumbs up from our landlords to legally sublet our place; finding the right fear-of-flying therapist for me (more on that in a later post)...it all could've gone to shit if one of those things hadn't gone as well as it did, right?
So, you know, I think as long as we keep taking it one potential hard part at a time, we're gonna be just fine. Right now, I'm going to prematurely celebrate finding the awesomest subletters we could've found. How will I be celebrating? Eating fabulous sesame bread from the Grandaisy Bakery and watching that Shaq reality show "Shaq's Big Challenge."
We first started talking about spending time in San Francisco back in early May, a product of one of my 'thinking big' moments, which usually happen while I'm washing my hair in the shower. My 'thinking big' moments usually consist of me yelling out to Niko, from the shower, 'Hey Niko! Let's say you and me take a transatlantic cruise next week!' or 'Hey Niko! I think I'm gonna leave my job and open a restaurant that serves only soup!' or 'Hey Niko! Screw this city; let's take out a mortgage tomorrow and buy a house in Montauk!'
Niko says I suffer from a rare physical abnormality - my brain is closer to my mouth than most other people's, so I tend to yell out whatever it is I've got on my mind before entirely thinking it through. I don't think I can argue that he's wrong.
So, taking into account my physical abnormality, he responds with the utmost care and sincerity: 'Uhhhhhhh...o-kayyyyyyy...well, the thing is I've got an editing job to work on next week/I love your soup but don't you only know how to make one kind right now?/you know Montauk is really nice but it might be hard to take out a million-dollar mortgage at 26.'
The San Francisco began as a 'thinking big' idea, and I'd honestly expected Niko to shoot it down - as politely and respectfully as possible, of course - just as fast as he shot down my other brilliant and inspired revelations. But the San Francisco idea was different for a few reasons:
1. It wasn't permanent; it was 3 months.
2. The time period made rational sense - we have a wedding on September 29th in Chicago, so we'd head to SF from there; we'd probably need to come back for the holidays, so we'd return to New York at the end of December.
3. It wasn't entirely beyond our financial means. We'd have to bust our butts at our jobs and actually save money (gross), but we could pull it off.
4. It didn't necessarily have to disturb the equillibrium in BK - I could work remotely and not have to quit my job, and we could legally sublet our apartment and not have to give it up and find a place for all our stuff.
5. We've been to SF before and LOVED it - it was the only place we'd ever been to that made us consider leaving BK.
This might have been my most sensible big idea ever, and Niko was down with it.
Holy crap. Well this changes everything. Who am I in the relationship if I'm not the outrageous, impulsive girlie who spits out a wacky idea every day that I know and he knows we're not going to follow through on because we can't or we shouldn't or it's just barely legal or I don't even know how to make more than one soup?!
It's a fair question, right? What makes two lifelong New Yorkers decide they're going to up and move to a new city? Well, we took an amazing trip to San Francisco in January of 2006 and we've been in love ever since. Jill went out there for work, and I tagged along, which was great, because on of my best buds, Lucas, has lived out there for a few years.
You know, it's not even that we had always dreamed of going out there or anything like that. It was only once we were there that we knew this place was for us. And even at that, nothing so amazing happened on our trip. We stayed in Nob Hill/Chinatown, walked all around, visited Coit Tower, checked out North Beach and the Mission, hung out with Lucas in Noe Valey, I visited Muir Woods and Berkeley, we spent a great night with one of Jill's work colleagues driving all over the city, we saw Robin Williams's house -- I mean, all fun things, but nothing mind blowing. I think it was more that while there, we didn't feel out of place. We felt like we could just plop down right there and be happy.
Whether it's the cool factor, the climate (I love layers, especially shorts with long-sleeve shirts, which is the SF outfit), the surrounding natural beauty, the freakish hills, the shopping, I don't know. But whatever mix of elements produces that SF feeling, Jill and I really really like it.
It makes me think of an image I saw recently in a post on our friend Gillian's blog, Ultra Fine Flair:
So, while it can't convey what was so special about that trip, here's a slideshow of our pictures from that trip. At the very least, you can marvel at my longer hair and beardless face!
So, Jill and I are real-estate moguls. We're wheeling and dealing, talking leases and deposits and sublets and contracts and all that. During the course of our search for a great San Francisco sublet, we came across a small studio that we really liked. It was small, cute, and in Nob Hill, a really nice neighborhood in the heart of the city. Jill and I are psyched. How cool would it be to be moving to San Francisco October 1 yet have a place all lined up in the middle of June? We'd have it made in the shade . . .
Well, it didn't work out. In order to take the place off the market, we needed to provide at least a month's rent right away. In the grand scheme of things, this isn't a ridiculous demand. In fact, most landlords require first month's rent and a security deposit equalling another month's rent. Jillian and I, being big spenders and poor savers, didn't have this cash lying around. I guess we knew this and didn't really want to think about it. We asked this nice landlord in SF if we could pay with a credit card or, you know, our good word, or even better, our good looks, but no dice. Once we have cash in a few months, we can see if the place is still available, but chances are it will have already been snatched up by some ugly, mean people. Sadness permeates the land.
As often happens in these situations, it turns out to have been a blessing in disguise. On closer inspection, the apartment really seemed kind of small, and there were no windows looking out to the street. Now if you've seen our Bay Ridge place, you know we've got lots of windows and really great views. I don't know if we could coop ourselves up in a tiny SF hole in the wall, never seeing the light of day unless we scurry out onto the sidewalk. So look at that -- we're lucky, lucky I tell you, that we didn't get the apartment of our dreams!
Despite our change of heart, we didn't like have our choice made for us. It's like how you'd rather dump someone than be dumped, or how when you're playing basketball, you always enjoy playing offense more than you do defense. As fate would have it, however, we were soon given the opportunity to walk the walk. (In a side note, I was recently copyediting a manuscript where an author wanted to use the phrase "walk the talk." When I pointed out to him that this, um, made no sense, he refused to listen to reason and insisted on keeping it in. Being an editor will make my blood pressure rise and temple veins swell with frustration. Breathe, Niko, breath.)
We had posted our apartment sublet on craigslist, though we weren't sure if we were going to have any interest. We really like living in Bay Ridge, but do people living in New York for only a short period of time really want to live in Saturday Night Fever territory? I mean, for those looking for the quintessential New York experience, we're a bit far from the main action -- not quite the boondocks, but definitely the outskirts. But lo and behold, we had a lot of interest!
Our main prospect has been a couple, both of whom are medical students doing internships or fieldwork or something or other at various Brooklyn hospitals. They sound like really nice people, and they need a short-term place for the exact time period that we'll be gone (October through December). Ah, but there's a hitch. Our dream tenant, our shining medical students, can't afford first month's rent and deposit right now, but they will be able to pay it in a few months. Could we find it in ourselves to accept the $300 nonrefundable deposit, a promise of future payment, a signed lease agreement, and the permanent home address of one of their parents, so we know where to send the men with baseball bats should they flee town on us? Are we that magnanimous? Are we that generous? Are we that in tune with the ebb and flow of the universe?
Yuck -- my own medicine tastes terrible!
Look, you can't treat others well if you don't treat yourself well, and you can't treat yourself well if you don't treat others well. A general openness and compassion and good will are necessary for general happiness. We'd love to have a deposit and firth month's rent -- we really would. With that in hand, we'd have the cash to perhaps get our hands on our own dream SF apartment sooner rather than later. But that's just not how it's gonna work out this time. I don't know why or how or if anyone or anything is responsible -- but in this world system, at this time, this go 'round, in this instance, our job is to learn patience and compassion and empathy.
We told our dear medical students, "No problem." And you know what? It really isn't a problem. We want to wrap ourselves in a warm blanket of security and certainty -- in mid- to late June, we want to everything wrapped up for our October 1 move. We're scared, anxious, and unsure. But doesn't that contradict the nature of the journey itself? Aren't we going to experience something new, take a chance, shake things up a bit? Well, once you get in that game, I feel you have to accept its rules. If we want rock-steady stability, we should just stay where we are, not move anywhere, and not do anything risky or fun ever again.
So great creator of the universe, take note of our actions, and please plop squarely in our laps a great SF sublet with great views and kind landlords willing to be flexible with deposits and first month's rent!
So this is the very exciting, super-duper fun-time first post - yay! Niko and I decided to start this blog because, in a few short months, we're packin' up and headin' west to San Francisco for three whole months!
The aim of the blog is to document our experience of this BIG adventure, from the search for the right BK subletter to the deposit on the SF sublet, from the pre-flight jitters (that's my area of expertise) to the glorious touch-down, from our first night to our last in one of the greatest cities in the world, and everything in between. Niko and I will both be posting, and I think his will be more well-written than mine, but mine will be cuter :)
I'm keeping this one short, but I'm sure we'll be posting a lot in the next week or so - that's how everyone gets about blogs, right? It's like all you think about the first week you have it?
