Hurricane Party

T

"The hurricane party's windin' down and we're all waitin' for the end
And I don't want another drink, I only want that last one again
 It gave me such a fine glow, smokin' slow, now I should probably be homeward bound
There's just no one to talk to when the lines go down."
 James McMurtry, Hurricane Party

August 29; 51st anniversary of birth and 5th anniversary of Katrina.  Minor and major in the key of shitstorms.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQI_lI0vC6Y&feature=related .  Hate the kind of part time pirates he sings of toward the end, just sit your drunk ass down.
No macebells, just bottles.  One Rodney Strong Pinot and and Glenlivet.  Those, and an old stray dog, recently shaved with no teeth, visiting for the weekend.  Not going to adopt, but if I did I'd name it macebell.

Friday, start way into City, but really don't need to so drop Ian and park in WF until 2:30 getting stuff done.  Late afternoon marsh walk with Ian and my constant companion.
Saturday, 9:30 am yoga,
then dinner with whole fam at Sara and Pat's.
This am.
Get up, take dog and second son for marsh walk.  Then into sf, buy him shit kicker boots at Dr. Martens, cute salesgirl.  Gettin' that something less than the Marilyn Manson look would be good.  We leave, park Ian at Daniel's, well shod.
Head to CT's.  We do a 10-15 minutes of mobility work, much of which is cloddish.  Then onto cc wall rows (120) a few swings, and then gs squats.  She says do birthday snatches, I thought 100 in five, she meant 51.  I go on a mission, they are amused and supportive.  We do 53 goblet squats in honor of Dan John.  Happy to do it and all feels good.  Whole session leaves me pumped and giddy.

Get home and bathe Barry.  He does a beautiful job, putting one foot, then the other gently on the step in the shower, washing himself carefully.  I shave him, he steps back under the water.  He has his left hand on heart, right hand on belly, reflexively, warm water running gently over his body.  His eyes closed, looks like Buddha.  I am bathed in warmth with him.
Yeah, it's a shitstorm, but it's my shitstorm.  Looking forward to a stronger 52, wherever the lines are.

Epistle to The Olympians

Dear parents, I write you this letter
Because I thought I'd better;
Because I would like to know
Exactly which way to grow.

My milk I will leave undrunk
If you'd rather have me shrunk,
If your love it will further kindle,
I'll do my best to dwindle;

Or, on the other hand,
Do you wish me to expand ?
I'll stuff like a greedy rajah
If you really want me larger.

All that I ask of you
Is to tell me which to do
To whisper in accents mild
The proper size for a child.

I get so very confused
By the chidings commonly used.
Am I really such a dunce
As to err two ways at once ?

When one mood you are in,
My bigness is my sin:
"Oh what a thing to do
For a great big girl like you!"

But then another time
Smallness is my crime;
"Stop doing whatever you're at
You're far too little for that!"

Kind parents, be so kind
As to kindly make up your mind
And whisper in accents mild
The proper size for a child.

Ogden Nash

They ought to send that one home with you from the hospital.  Stick it in the padded plastic bag, along with the stack of diapers that looks like it will last days but you quickly learn lasts hours.  Put it in there with the Enfamil (WTF ?), the thin blankets you can never have many of, and the pacifier you will probably toss unused with the bag two weeks later when it smells like baby poop and pee.
When they were young and separate rooms were not required to avoid bloodshed we used to do songs and stories.  End each night with poems and folk songs; Dad and the brood.  Got that ritual in for about seven years before Ian got sick of it and that was that, over too soon.  Mom never joined in and that may have the beginning of our isolation.

Don't know of any such quatrains for teenagers.  No verse about requests for money, scattered laundry, nerves, body odor and oily skin.  Mine will bust you for the mixed message though.  I told them, about fifth grade, they did not have to respect people just because they were older.  I told Brigid that after her otherwise uber hip gay fifth grade teacher sent her home for wearing a Steve Earle T-shirt with a red skull and sickle on it.  I agreed with her that was crap, and that some people and institutions are not entitled to respect and it was ok to view those that deserved it with contempt.  Ian got told earlier after they ran him out of Catholic schools.  The only caution given was to keep it to yourself if the target was in a position of authority.  They have developed keen noses for bullshit and I am paying dearly for my enlightened child-rearing. 

They started school this week.  Ian utilizing social media to check out all his teachers on fb.  "Is she a bitch?"  27 instant replies.  He thinks he will be ok.  Brigid is chattering constantly; she has been waiting for others to grow up around her for years and she quickly has been adopted as one of the cool freshman by maternal upper class girls.

They are drifting away as they should and need; we all must move on.

Thursday am, back feels like shit which surprised me.  DOMS at the shoulders and glutes.  4:30 60 minute EH, better.
Friday.  Office, then work until 4:30, on to Pradeep classes.  Go for 4:30-5:30, then onto 6:20.  Shower, B-day dinner with CT, adult conversation and delightful company; very nice of her.
Saturday.  Walk the dog with Brigid, then get out late, hot and gonna be hotter.  Goes like:
10 slow alternating push-ups to a T.
10 24 kg GS
Presses
few warm up 16's.  Then 1-5 l/r ladders, 24kg
5+5 20kg single leg deads
3x
Fully intend to go 200 swings 30/30 alternating 24 and 26, but at 60 it is time to shut it down cause back is not cooperating.
Sunday, three miles am with Rose.
PM, good 60 min. CT session., but back complains and we shut down some core work.
Monday, three miles, nada mas.
Tuesday, yoga 7am 8.  7:00 pm hour deal, CT does 10 minutes of Z drills waiting fro Renee, much better.
Wednesday.
Get into office, Purple, aka Craig Ainsworth, a 27 year old black man was murdered on the corner of 13th and Broadway at 9:20 the night before in a gang related shooting.  He was shot on the corner, staggered 40 feet and died in front of DeLaurers, where I buy the shit that is bad for me three times a week.
There is a makeshift shrine of candles and young folks milling about angrily, a few girls crying.  There is graffiti all over the walls of our office building, a memorial a mixture of expressions of sorrow and hate, notes in purple marker covered over by the heavy black pen of the rival gang.  "Sneak attack !" and "Smackdown!"  Some of the authors have obviously cut themselves and smeared their blood over their words.  I am standing on the sidewalk in suit and tie reading this stuff, stunned.  Our landlord Mo is on the sidewalk, chagrined at the news cameras, and wondering how long he has to wait before painting over Purple's memorial.
I have no frame of reference for this.  I don't know this world and don't want to.
I bail by 4:45 to get to MH's 5:15.
This morning the candles are gone but there is more graffitti.  I stop to read, but there are angry young men glaring at me, guarding the spot where Purple died and I get my white ass outta there.
Great EH class this evening.
Purple, you never had a chance.  Betting no one ever read you Ogden Nash, or sang Pete Seeger songs as you fell asleep.  This place is exactly as violent as it feels.  I would like to take away some lesson, but there is none, except I really don't know shit about much outside of my cocoon.  RIP Craig, gonna think of you every morning and every night when I walk past this spot, until I don't know when.  It will be a while.

Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered

"I'm wild again
Beguiled again
A simpering whimpering child again
Bewitched bothered and bewildered am I"
Rogers&Hart, Pal Joey, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Not really, but it's a great tune.  Babs gives it a good go here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbLz2DcxZEQ
But her version holds no candle to Betty Buckley's on Saturday night at Yoshi's.  It's one of the great things about many of the songs in American musical theater, they get better with age, both of the song and the singer.  Babs at 21 sings it, her chops are spine-tingling, but she is still schoolgirlish at 21.  Betty at 63 sings it, and sells it, and it has a whole different impact.  Wise, comfortable, joyful anticipation and resignation; she just slayed us.
What a dame.  Picked her up late afternoon Thursday, with her uber-competent assistant Cathy.  Felt like a dolt.  Brought B to see her Saturday at eight and she just killed it; Barry in stunned rapture let his ice cream melt he was so taken in.  Buy the t-shirt, she autographs and chats and gives him a big hug.

I pick her up Sunday morning to take her to the airport.  She and Cathy start right in on what a doll B is.  Ok, that's easy to hear.  Then Betty gets into her process, meditation, teaching, how she tries to get young singers to make it not about them, but giving to the audience, and says how cool it was to watch Barry on Saturday listening to her.  I am floored.  She talks about Memories, and (I will not do her justice here) how to get her head in the right place she would bring up an image of someone with down syndrome, use that for sense memory.  She goes on for some time about how important meditation techniques are for her work and her teaching and how she uses images of people with down syndrome.  No, she has never done Inside the Actor's Studio, Lipton needs to get her on, not be cute, and just let her talk.  A real treat to hear a world class talent talk so generously about what she does, and tell me she digs my kid to boot.  Big hugs at the airport, she and Cathy are off; I'm still trying not to blubber.
 Oh yeah, and her piano player Christian Jacob ?  Monster.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HBISHfWaxQ.  Very interesting to hear his take on current jazz audiences.  He never really cut loose with Betty, but his playing and the inter-play was riveting.

Thursday, drop Betty off and its a half hour gut buster ego check with CT.  300 swings 28-20.  Wall push-ups.  Invert and its hello belly, ugh.
Friday, three miles in am, work all day the then weekend kicks off with 75 minutes with Pradeep starting at 5:30.  Smoking smoking energetic class.  Gonna take many many more of these.
Saturday.  Walk the dog and feel like shit.  Sleep most afternoon then into Betty.
Sunday.  After dropping Betty off hour long session on marina green.  CT has me sprinting for the first time in maybe 15 years, feels rock solid.  Thank you kettlebells.
Monday, three miles am.  Good day at work, then 5:30 Pradeep class, another smoker.  It is fast and hard but the tablas keep it going.
Tuesday.  Gonna work out at home late, but incoming from Peter leaves me in TJ's lot too late so nothing.  That's fine.
Today.  Three miles am.  Good billing day.  Into gym at 5:30 goes like:
5 slow pushups, Sgt. Ken style
20 tactical lunges, 16kg
Press work
7 double 16kg
3 double 24kg
1+1 32kg
shaky first circuit.  Three singles each side on the third though.
20 walking lunges, two 35lb dumbbells
3x
Swings
30 24kg
1+1 24kg tgu
10 32kg swings
1+1 24kg tgu
Alternate that for ten, so five each.  Felt very very good.

Beguiled again.

We are so fucked . . .

"The Senate chamber is an intimate room where men and women go to talk to themselves for the record."

George Packer, The Empty Room, The New Yorker, August 9, 2010.

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/08/09/100809fa_fact_packer#ixzz0wMp85ZW6

 You take Packer's article, read it in conjunction with Purdum's upcoming Vanity Fair piece http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129090078 and you may as well learn how to stand on one foot well, military press 40kg and snatch 200 in ten, 'cause that's about the only thing you control and the rest is just Rome falling around you. 

Friday

10 dolphin to dolphin plank

5+5 sls, 12kg bu

Press, 

10+10 double 16 alternating overhead press

3+3 24 kg c to p

1+1 32

20 walking lunges, double 35lb dumbbells

3x, but last circuit three singles on the 32 strict mp, both sides, crushing it.

30/30 20 24kg swings x 10.

Finished by 3:45, walk up to client's office in workout gear to pick up 12k, bag man in running shoes and shorts.

Get back by 4:20, still feel strong so 60 min yoga.  Went well.

Saturday, three mile marsh walk with 5 and dogs, Bella gets launched as above.  5 takes pity and feeds me massive quantities of sushi; his heart is huge which is why I have loved and forgiven him since 1968.

Sunday, one more three mile walk, wash and shave Barry, wash Rose, then to Sara's for bbq.

Monday, three miles am, beat the crap out of the day, then

pm

15 pushups, hands on med balls, feet on box

5+5 sls, to 5+5 sls 12kg bu on active side

10 double 16 clean and press

3+3 24kg press

1+1 32kg press, fucked

20 walking lunges with 2 35lb. dumbbells

x3

45/30, 24kg jerks x10.  Five sets per side, a bit over 100 jerks total, more work needed.

Tuesday, five miles, late.

Wednesday

am

20/20 10 pushups, slow and hard x 8

3+3 16kg bu squat to press, to 8+8 squat to press, 80lb barbell

10+10 rows, 60lb dumbbell

6+6 single leg deads, 16kg

3x

8+8 16kg windmills top, 12kg bottom

5+5x3 16kg snatches

2+2 24kg tgu

3x

5+5 snatches to get to 100

20 more pushups to get to 100.

Smoking 60 min MH yoga in pm.

We are still so fucked.

Marsh walk with Rose this morning, trying get her to crap out the 1.75 pounds of chateaubriand she stole off the counter last night.  Makes me gag to think about it.

A beautiful walk.  It's quiet, deserted.  Shooting at  Harrier on the north levee, sounds like a stealth bomber just above, look up and it's a thousand or so ducks heading in low, webbed feet hanging for landing.  Heart stops.

This is about 20% of them after they've landed.  Still focused on the Harrier and can't go wide.

Been watching this bird for a couple of weeks now; it is young and not very skittish, foolish youth.  It flies up off the north levee and circles 'round cooperatively to my left.  I am maybe 30 feet away, now cursing not going to the mid-range zoom, cause I don't need all the glass and sure could use VR.  Fuck it, do your best.  Snap off 30 or 40 shots while the bird looks at me, head cocking with every click.

I know the real opportunities are gonna come when it flies off.  It's foggy as hell and I can't get the shutter speed I need given my slow lens and caffeinated grip, but what the hell.

Bird continues to be cooperative and flies behind a few blades of grass mitigating to some extent my poor technique.  But I have been walking this marsh for nearly four years now and have never gotten so close to a Harrier, glad to have started carrying the camera again.

Harrier gone now, but the noise is wild, the ducks are going off, the swallows are clicking at practically arms reach and terns are screeching overhead.  Everything is feeding and I can almost forgive Rose her $19.00 steak theft.  Almost.

If the demise of our political institutions was followed swiftly by the species' extinction, or at least significant reduction in numbers, what it would be like to see the planet bounce back.  This marsh is just a tiny pathetic remnant of habitat but it shines.  I wanted to sit in the dirt with my dog and just soak it in.  Was able, for a good time though not long enough, to do just that.  

We are so fucked and it is so beautiful.

Beautiful Strings

"Proposition 8 fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license.  Indeed, the evidence shows that Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California Constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same sex couples.  Because California has no interest in discriminating against gay men and lesbians, and because Proposition 8 prevents California from fulfilling its constitutional obligation to provide marriages on an equal basis, the court concludes Proposition 8 is unconstitutional."
Perry v, Schwarzenegger, Vaughn Walker, Chief Judge, U.S.D.C., N.D. Cal.

Sing it Judge.  A concise conclusion after a 136 page evisceration of the Proposition, the hate behind it, and the abysmal effort to defend it.  Stay tuned.
Friday, three miles in am.  PM, into sf, driving Larry Carlton and crew around while mixing work fairly adeptly if I do say so.  Very nice people;  after sound check (a real treat) "Ok David, we'll see you tonight at the show."  Umm, may not make it.  "What, well you'll come tomorrow then."  Lamely, uhmm, I'll try.  Road crew shaking their heads.
So Saturday, feeling strong 'cause no kbells since Wednesday, goes like:
10 dolphin to dolphin plank
10 20kg goblet squats
Presses
5+5 16
4+4 20
3+3 24
2+2 28
1+1 32
It's all play until the 28, but 32 shooting up both sides, all three circuits.  Best press session, ever.
10+10 20kg tactical lunges
Swings, 30/30, 20 per, descending ladder, five rungs each 28-16, 400 swings total.
Call comes in a 6:30, have an 8:00 ticket, drop B with Anne and into Yoshi's for the 8:00 set, awesome musicianship.  "Glad you made it David." Oh yeah, and back up by 9:45.
Sunday, three miles
Monday, Good work day, just angry I have to do it.  Workout goes like:
20/20, ten push-ups x 10.
5+5 step-ups to 12 inch box, double 16's.
10+10 60lb dumbbell rows, these are awesome
10 slow box squats, 22lb body bar.
3x
30/30 20 24kg swings, to 1+1 24kg tgu, x 10.  Uh huh, felt great.
Tuesday.  Felt like prey all day.  Angry, fucking livid in fact, at my partners, one for being quietly  passive aggressive and the other for having the audacity to take a two week vacation after his abysmal year.  Around 4:00, tired of the pity party and resolve to light fires and start blowing shit up.  Now that feels better, predator, not prey.  Walk dog late with Ian.
Today, four miles am.  SLS on heavy bottoms up.  Good productive day at work.  Yeah, your vacation is fucked for this year, but it is not your time on the clock.  You can descend to their level and gin up some sense of entitlement, but fuck that.  Just do the work, make the calls and fry some asses.
PM, not feeling sharp but:
5+5 x 2 pushups to renegade rows, 50lb dumbbells
10 box squats, 22 lb bar, to 10 ten double 16kg squat to press
MP, 3+3 24kg, to 1+1 32kg, unlike sat not a single clean press on left.  More down time needed.
5+5 sls, with 12kg bottoms up.
x3
Snatch session, 15/15, seven rep pace, x 30.

Cardio in the morning, more blowing shit up, and close with EH 60 min class tomorrow.

Try to breath deep, and not think murderous thoughts.  Don't read junk emails while driving.  Scratch your dog.  Think well of Vaughn Walker.  HSB line-up comes out at 4 tomorrow.  Smile, not maniacally.