Too much talent
That’s what some people have–just too darned much talent.
Friday night we went to an opening at the Thelma Harris Gallery in Oakland. The show there is titled “Exposed”, and it is a celebration of the body. Thelma’s gallery specializes in the work of African-American artists, and is always interesting and right on the cutting edge.
The opening was packed, and we had to squeeze our way into the rather small space. I was enjoying the photos of Carlton Watkins:
The upper photo, "Withdrawal from white space" may have to come live at my house.
Then we walked around the corner, and saw a sculpture–a nude male torso, in plaster with an oil paint finish. Gail just had to have it; completely love at first sight.
Meanwhile, I was wandering, and saw one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen posing by another sculpture. Yes, it was the artist, Dana King. Name sound familiar? She’s the anchor on channel 5 news. The woman seems to have limitless talents.
Dana, Gail and our new art
Another of Dana's works
Some people are just blessed with abilities, but there is still the matter of doing the work. All this sculpting takes time and energy, and you have to be willing to make the investment up front. We all think we’re willing to do the hard things if success is assured, but it’s a lot harder to put in the effort and then see if it pays off. Dana is clearly has the energy, drive, willingness and self-discipline to see the project through. I’m only a little bit impressed, he whimpered.
There was more work I enjoyed at the show:
Sort of like Gaugin?
A more impressionistic view of the body.
If you like art galleries, you really should take a look at the Thelma Harris Gallery, 5940 College Avenue in Oakland. Be prepared to be awed.
Tuesday night with Margaret
Barbara, Gail and Margaret
We try to get together with Margaret once a month for dinner, and last night was the night.
Rossmoor has an intimidating security gate, but we rolled right up to the window, shouted “We’re taking Margaret to dinner!”, and they raised the pike and waved us on through. I guess it’s good to know the right people.
Picking up Barbara, we headed for Postino, an old favorite in Lafayette I’ve written about before.
One small change, though. They have live music now–a young man who plays guitar and sings in Spanish. Not too loud to interfere with conversation, but completely enjoyable.
I tried a new salad–Insalata Albicocca, grilled apricots filled with blue cheese on top of greens. I knew it was the right choice when Barbara Hanson ordered the same thing. Grilled fruit is a different experience, and not really to be missed.
The special was braised rabbit on some kind of home made pasta with lots of garlic and pancetta, so naturally I had to have it. I liked it, but it wasn’t as great as I thought it would be. Gail, Margaret and Barbara all had the fettucini, and it was great, much better than the special.
Being the svelte people we are, everyone passed on dessert.
Margaret is doing fine, playing bridge occasionally in Rossmoor and visiting George in hospice. The Wednesday games will never be the same without her, but what can you do? She has certainly earned her retirement.
Taking her home, we stopped at security and yelled “Bringing Margaret home!” and got waved through again. Sure wish I could get through airport security as easily.
Three Cheers for Steve
Working at the front desk of a busy hotel is a hard job, with people complaining to you all day long while others are importuning for rooms that they failed to reserve in time or upgrades they don’t deserve. Lots of headaches and little thanks.
Yesterday I was one of the people trying to get a room I should have reserved 5 months in advance, and I had the good fortune to ask the right guy–Big Steve, the front desk manager here at the Sacramento Doubletree where I’ve played bridge every June for most of 3 decades.
The hotel was sold out. Has been sold out for quite a while. But there is always somebody who leaves early or doesn’t show up, and opportunities arise, if you know the right people and ask politely.
Steve would have been able to squeeze me into the joint last night, but I had a reservation at the Hilton, and they were going to charge me whether I used it or not (24 hour in advance cancel rule) So he told me to spend one night at the Hilton, then come over here today and he would get me in.
Just to be sure, he called me at 6:57 this morning to reassure me that there was indeed a room available for me. No bid deal–I had to get up in another 2 or 3 hours anyway.
And now I’m in the Doubletree, they even managed to find a room with a king bed.
Notice the photo above–it’s the entire front desk crew. When I said I wanted a photo for my blog, he insisted on getting everyone in–a good manager gives all the credit to his staff, and Steve is a very good manager.
I complain loud and long about the crummy service endemic in modern business. It’s a pleasure to give credit to a guy
The new Nordie’s
Bright lights, not quite so big city. Nordstrom brings glitz to Walnut Creek
Once it was Bullocks, then Nordstrom came to Walnut Creek. Now the rebuild/remodel of the store is almost complete, and the new Nordstrom is a glittering, stunning, smashing palace of high-class consumption.
We hadn’t been there in some time, so Gail and I decided to take a peek at the results of all the work that has been going on for over a year. Wow. I don’t know how much they spent, but they got their money’s worth–the store is incredible.
Stainless steel hats--just for display, or is John Steed their new buyer?
A really big Stetson. Must be a theme this year.
The modernization isn’t just in the store design, it’s in the merchandise, too. Finally, men aren’t limited to boring socks:
Everything for the modern metrosoxual.
Even more colorful hosiery for men. The world is coming around to my way of thinking.
And hats!!! I’m not a hat guy myself, but there are some pretty stylish lids here.
These hats are for sale--are the Fifties coming back?
Change is everywhere–the cosmetics department is hugely expanded, there is even a pretty good sized selection for men these days. There are two complete shoe areas for women, on the first and third floors. The cafe seem fairly unchanged, but almost everything else is new.
Not all the changes thrill me. I always liked the piano player; I thought it classed up the joint. The modern store has a different approach to music, which is probably a lot hipper, more attractive to the younger customers and vastly cheaper. Still, it really doesn’t carry the same cachet:
They traded in their grand piano and live pianist for this.................
You can’t have everything, I guess. The store looks fabulous, the selection of merchandise if incredible and they still have that great Nordstrom service. They have done so much you would think they were afraid of competition from somebody like Neiman-Marcus, but little backward Walnut Creek will never have a N-M, will it?
I lost it at the ballet
So OK, I stole the title from A Chorus Line. It’s still true–every time we see the Smuin Ballet, I lose it. Today was no exception.
Usually, we go to the Lesher Center, but once a year we trek to the peninsula to join up with family from the Santa Cruz area. Today was the day.
For 17 years, the Smuin has performed at the Mountain View Center, but this year they got bumped off their dates by a local theater group, and had to perform in San Mateo at some dinky performing arts center attached to a grammar school. The facility was adequate, barely, but had little in the way of amenities–no bar for intermission, insufficient bathrooms, inadequate infrastructure for the performance. Still, the show must go on.
The first act was Momentum, choreographed in 1978 by Choo San Goh to a piano concerto by Prokofiev. This was the most “balletic” piece of the afternoon, rich and fully capturing my attention and imagination. The unitard costumes were perfect, the lighting sculpted the dancers precisely.
The first act is followed by the first intermission, and the first glitch. Some technical problem arose with the intercom system, and the intermission stretched on considerably longer than the first act had. The natives were getting quite restless before Ballet Master Amy London came onstage to tell us what the problem was, apologize for the delay and promise that the show would soon go on.
Amy London, Smuin Ballet Ballet Master.
Problems can happen in any business–the better way to handle them is to keep the customer in the loop early and often–an announcement 10 minutes earlier that there were technical problems would have kept the natives much quieter and happier.
On to the second act, Mozart Requiem, a new work by Choreographer in Residence, Amy Seiwert. Because I like the Smuin, and I have enjoyed the work of Amy Seiwert before, I wanted to like this piece, but it just didn’t grab me. You would think something set to a Mozart Requiem would be emotionally affecting, but there was just…………….nothing. I felt nothing. (Oops, there A Chorus Line sneaking in again.) Gail felt the piece went on too long, with no conclusion, and I could not disagree. Beautiful costumes, interesting set, great lighting, excellent dancers, just no ooooomph.
The final act, To the Beatles, choreographed by company founder Michael Smuin, is a guaranteed crowd pleaser. Music we all know and love, wonderful dancers and witty choreography. It’s like a fine meal–take all the best ingredients and have an expert chef mix them and you have to have success.
The extra good news is that they have worked out their problems in Mountain View and will be back there next spring. I’ll be there.
Your government at work
It looks funny, but it's quiet and I sleep better. I'm still cuter than this guy, though.
I sleep with a CPAP machine, a device that blows air into a mask and keeps my windpipe from collapsing. I used to snore, now I don’t. The cause of all this is sleep apnea, which affects an awful lot of us, especially the full figured types.
Over time, the masks wear out and you need to replace them. I have also developed a hole in the hose from the machine, which I fixed with band-aids from my first aid kit in Hawaii last month.
You would think that replacing this would be an easy task–and it used to be. I could just go to the medical supply store in Walnut Creek and pick one up. Not anymore.
Some genius in the government has decided that you now need a prescription to buy this piece of necessary equipment, making a simple transaction complex for no benefit that I can even imagine.
I got my doctor to write me a prescription, although he thought I had lost my mind.
I went to the medical supply store on Mt. Diablo Blvd, which has an excellent display of the masks. Silly me, I thought that meant they sold them. But they don’t. The masks are just a display; if you want to buy one you have to go to their sister company in an industrial park in Concord.
So I trundled out to deepest Concord, and found the place. The guy inside was happy to help me–did I know what size I needed? Well, gee, my face is the size of a pie plate, maybe a large? No, I need to make an appointment with a respiratory therapist to be officially measured. “I can buy this on eBay”, I said, taking my prescription back and leaving.
Which, it turns out, wasn’t true. eBay won’t allow people to sell prescription items. There are people selling CPAP mask “parts”, which may or may not assemble into a complete mask, but I didn’t want to deal with the hassle.
On a whim, I decided to try Amazon–you can buy darned near anything there. Sure enough, there were CPAP masks and hoses and paraphernalia aplenty.
Visit this link on How to Sell on Amazon quickly.
I found what I wanted, pleased to see that the price was better that it is locally, and clicked on buy. Although I expected to see some screen requiring me to mail/fax/scan my prescription, there was none. Just tell them that I wanted it and the transaction was complete.
Now, 4 days later, there was a box waiting for me when I got home (neatly covered by a Post Office crate to keep it out of the rain, too. Thanks, mailperson.)
Why I need a prescription in person and not online is a mystery. I don’t think I really care–the mask is here, the price is right, I’m a happy camper.
I’ll sleep well knowing the government is looking out for my best interests.
Sunday dreadful Sunday
What would an Elks club be without an Elk?
I’m getting to write this while all my friends are still playing in the tournament. We had a miserable day: none of us were capable of bidding the coldest of slams, we lost the first four matches and withdrew, to the great relief of the staff who started out with 11 teams in Bracket 1 (the top eight teams by points, and 3 more who preferred to play up) necessitating a round-robin, which nobody likes. When we left, there was no longer a need for the round robin, so everyone was happy.
Although we were done playing, there was still the matter of lunch–I had paid for it, and who can pass up a buffet? This one was catered by the Elks Lodge, and it was just fine–four different kinds of sandwich, three salads, a huge plate of fruit, iced tea and lemonade. The best $8.00 spread in town.
Setting up the lunch
The fruit looked spectacular
Food in general was wonderful this weekend. Xena made trays and trays of phenomenally good egg salad. There was fruit and crackers and bagels and peanut-butter filled pretzels. Plenty of drinks available, although we always seem to run out of Diet Coke.
20 years ago we had tournaments at this Elks club, but it seems like we have outgrown it–Saturday afternoon we were simply crushed. The air conditioning is either freezing or blistering. The parking is simply insufficient–and that’s without the jerk in the crappy green car (protected by The Club™) who blocked the driveway completely.
We’ll put another successful tournament in the record book. Jerry Chamberlain did a fine job as Chairman, excepting the silly early start on Friday. He promises not to do that again, and I promise not to go to the movies that night.
Just to finish it all off, here’s to the best dressed guy at the game today. Steve Castellino, playing with Sid Lorvan and not willing to be out-dressed by the ever-dapper Sid:
And yes, he plays as well as he dresses.
Elegant Pairs at the Sectional
What would an Elks club be without an Elk?
A very long time ago, I persuaded the unit board to try to make the Friday night game at our sectional special, by returning to the formal days of old and having an Elegant Mixed Pairs event. That first year we had 10 or 14 tables, I can’t say I remember, but everyone was in formal attire and we had a blast.
Now, two decades or more later, we still try to enjoy the Elegant Pairs, althoughit is no longer a mixed event and not everyone bothers to dress up.
This year we made good use of the hand duplicating machine and held a barometer event–there were 19 tables in play. Plenty of people looked awfully good, too. This isn’t all the good looking people, just the ones I could corral in front of my camera:
Terry looked marvelous
Nancy cleans up very nicely, too.
Not all the good looking people were female--Cole was pretty snappy.
BJ was all glammed up
SF Fine Arts Fair
Thursday night Gail and I headed off to Fort Mason for the annual San Francisco Fine Arts Fair. It was opening night, there would be a party, and several of the artists we know and collect would be in attendance, so a good time was easy to predict.
The Fair is a commercial enterprise: galleries from all over the world come to showcase their goodies and try to reel in the customers. It’s a treat for us because we get to see the best of many galleries in one easy trip.
In past years, this has been a huge show, encompassing two large buildings on the water at Fort Mason with dozens of galleries from Europe, Latin America and Asia, but the slow economy has taken a major toll on the art business–expenses don’t get much more discretionary than purchasing art.
There is an admission fee–$20 for one day, $100 for the entire show and the opening party. They seem to be papering the house, though, because we got comp tickets from both the event organizers and a gallery where we look but have never purchased anything.
Attendance was big–the parking lot was full. I tried to get into valet parking but they were full, too, so I followed some guy while he slowly wandered around and got into his car and left.
The show was great, but what’s not to like about lots of art and free wine? We ran into friends:
Gail with Jane Burton, a sculptor from Walnut Creek
Harry Siter and Gail in the booth where his work was being exhibited.
Other signs of a poor economy:
I saw one gallery from Zurich, one from Barcelona. The rest were predominately either local or from Santa Fe.
The works being shown were newer, from less well known artists. Not a Picasso or Chagall or Calder in sight.
There was much more photography than in the past–which always suits me fine, because I love it. But photographs tend to be much less costly than other works of art. (Notwithstanding the Cindy Sherman photo that went for over $3,900,000 at auction in New York last week, setting a new record.)
There was wine, but no food, no live music. Definitely keeping the costs down.
I didn’t look at every single work, but the most expensive thing I saw was an Ansel Adams photograph, Moonrise, Hernandez New Mexico. This is an iconic work and one of the best known photographs in history, and reasonably priced at $60,000. That’s a ton of money,surely, but nothing compared to the multi-million dollar pieces I have seen at this fair in years past.
So we enjoyed ourselves, saw friends and art and had a good time. And managed to get in and out without buying anything, which is always a challenge. There was one piece I wanted (besides the Adams photo I’ll never be able to afford), and that was a new piece from our friend Harry.
A horse head from Guernica on a beautiful body
Not a large piece, maybe 15″ high. Sterling silver. The head is interchangeable with others he had made, but this is the one that works for me. Sadly, it’s $10,000, so it’s staying at the Fair. Strange to see something so small from Harry–he tends to make very large pieces merging bronze and wood, like this:
Not the largest of Harry's work, to be sure
The show runs all weekend. If you aren’t playing at the sectional, give it a try, I think you’ll enjoy it.
How not to sell to me
Our back deck needs maintainence. Nothing surprising, every couple of years we have a company come in and clean and re-oil it.
We’ve been using Fine Line Renovations. Eight years ago they did a complete sand-down and refinish, and since then the oiling. It’s time for another complete renovation, and since it’s an expensive process I thought I should get another quote.
Fortunately, we got one of those envelopes with all kinds of coupons in it, and there was a deck company offering a 10% discount (and 5% more if you ordered the same week), so I called them. Springers Deck Restoration came right out this morning to price out the job.
I met the owner, Daryl, and his foreman, Tris. The boss gave me the sales pitch while the worker worked. They were going to use all custom blended products, water-based and biodegradable. They were going to strip the old surface, then clean and sand and re-coat with their super-duper proprietary finishing materials. Sounded great, but all sales pitches do.
Then I asked about colors, and he pulled out the color chart from Behr Wood Stain. Maybe he thinks I don’t know you buy that stuff at Home Depot, there isn’t anything custom or proprietary about it. I’m smelling rat already.
But I leave them to finish their work, and go inside and shower for the day. All clean and tidy, I picked up the estimate to see how much it was going to hurt.
The price came to $2698, minus another $100 if I sealed the deal by 7 pm tonight. Does that seem like an interesting number to you? They figured out the square footage, the materials needed, the time to get to the job, all their costs and profit margin, then deducted 10%, for one discount and 5% for another discount, and it just magically came to one of those common sales-type numbers, $2 less than a round $2700?
Would it change your mind if you knew that Fine Line quoted $2500 exactly for the same job? With no purported “discounts”?
These companies know each other, and their market. I think Springers decided that the job was worth $2600, and then added their “discount” back in to make the numbers look like I was getting a good deal. In fact, I’d bet my lungs on it.
Add in the story about the “custom” products that you or I can buy at Home Depot, and my choice is clear. I’m calling Fine Line.
Totally Unauthorized 