Never give up
My friend George Harris puts a quote Facebook every day, and I thought today’s was particularly apt:
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” Mark Twain
My maternal grandmother reputedly said “the only things in life you’ll ever regret are the things you didn’t do.” I’m sure she wasn’t reading Twain, I wonder if he was talking to her?
In any event, this really is going somewhere. Today, we went out early to see a local Passion Play. With Boy Scouts in charge of crowd control, the local priest, many costumed students and one very over-made up Jesus walked a few blocks around the neighborhood church, stopping at various properly adorned houses to make the Stations of the Cross. It ended back in front of the church, where Christ was crucified yet again, more blood was poured from a Coke bottle to improve the image, and everyone got blessed whether they needed it or not.
Mexico has always been a heavily Catholic nation, but I can’t say I felt the crowd was either particularly large or particularly devout. Perhaps 200 people, most of them just along for the ride like we were.
Then off to the Frida Kahlo museum, which is in her actual home. And what a home. Originally her father’s, who was apparently a successful photographer. It is just immense, with multiple outbuildings. Filled with her art and that of her lover and double spouse–she married Diego Rivera twice. It is beautifully kept. Lots of museums don’t allow photography, but this one doesn’t all hats, either. There seems to be a limitless need in the universe for perverse and arbitrary rules.
You’re still wondering about the original quote, aren’t you? I’m getting there. Go slow, this is Mexico.
After Frida, we went off to visit the Museo Diego Rivera-Anahuacalli, which had been recommended by a friend of Max and Barbara’s (our hosts, if you’re not following along).
Couldn’t find the place, of course. We passed a sign with a left turn arrow, turned left and ended up right back where we started. The driver was persistent though, and called the Museum and finally we got there. (Mexico may have GPS units, but not our driver. Macho Mexican pride, I should think)
Then the guides told us we had to go on the guided tour, which wasn’t starting for 30 minutes, and would take an hour. Gail isn’t one to wait, and I’m not much better. An hour is too long for most museums, in any case. So we were ready to throw in the towel. Fortunately, the intrepid Max applied some world class wheedling and prodding, and they said we could go in right away, but would have to be out in 30 minutes for the proper tour.
And here’s where that going and doing it paid off. The place is utterly spectacular! Fantastic, incredible, mind-boggling wonderful. One of the great museums in the world, and you’ve undoubtedly never heard of it.
This is what I looked like with hair.
It turns out that Diego Rivera was a great collector of pre-Columbian art, back in the days when it was readily available and not illegal to possess. He designed this museum as a store house for what must be one of the largest collections in the world.
The building itself resembles a Mayan pyramid, and is completely constructed out of indigenous lava. (Sharp-eyed Gail noticed a fire extinguisher in every room, although there was nothing combustible in the entire structure. See above about pettifogging rules.) In many rooms there are “windows” of what seems to be thinly sliced onyx, beautifully translucent. Even the ceilings are mosaics. The second floor contains an immense studio for Rivera to create his murals, with an entire north-facing glass wall to provide perfect light.
The more than 1000 pieces are displayed beautifully, and not cluttered with little labels telling you something you wouldn’t remember anyway. None of the artists is known anyhow. You get to just enjoy the depth and variety of this phenomenal collection emotionally, as it should be.
Construction began in 1940, and continued until 1963, 6 years after Rivera’s death. It is a monument to the man and his vision.
I don’t regret a minute of the time I spent there, and neither will you. It’s a good reason to come to Mexico City all by itself.
There’s no air here
How high is Mexico City? Take a guess.
The answer is about 7500 feet–and it sure surprised me. I thought about 6000, and I wasn’t even close. Almost half again the elevation of Denver.
We’re on the third floor of a truly spectacular house–but it is killing me to get up and down the stairs. Last night I had to do it will all of our luggage–and we don’t travel light. Maybe this will convince me to start.
Enough whining. I’m pretty amazed by everything I’ve seen today. 25 million people live on this high plain, and that makes a lot of pollution. There are some really strict laws about how often and where you can drive your car–our hosts brought a car in from Miami when they moved, and are only allowed to drive after 11 am, not at all on Saturdays. Every car seems to have some restriction, to hold down both traffic and pollution.
Traffic is light for us, happily. This is Holy Week, Semana Santa, and some huge percentage of the citizens have taken off the hills or beach or country, so the roads are, in relative terms, empty. Which is not empty like Havana is, but like Fresno on a busy rush hour. Even if half the people left, there would still be 12.5 million of them here, more than in New York.
Here’s another quiz: who is the biggest employer in Mexico? Didn’t guess Wal-Mart? Me neither, but that’s the answer. Between huge stores and distribution centers, and factories to supply their system, Wal-Mart is the number one employer in this nation. (and pretty big in our country, too)
US companies are doing quite a bit of business here–I saw McDonalds, Burger King, Domino’s, Radio Shack, 7-11, and Apple today, and who knows how many I missed.
My iPhone works like a charm–it boots right up on Cel Tel, texting is just as fast as at home and when Micky calls to see if I’m playing cards tomorrow (not), it even plays the Warren Zevon song that I set as his personal ringer. “Poor, poor, pitiful me” is just perfect for him, don’t you think?
Needing cash, I stepped right up to an ATM and popped in my card. Just like at home, in 45 seconds I was on my way with 2000 pesos. It even works in English when it senses an American card.
Here’s the big difference: security. Our hostess insists that Gail leave her rings and jewelry in the house–she says they are too dangerous to wear in public. Every nice house is behind a large wall with a gate. This house is even on a private street, guarded 24 hours by a man who only open the barrier to those he knows. Still behind a wall and gate, though. There are guards everywhere, in every store. I don’t know if all this security lowers the crime rate, but it sure lowers the unemployment rate.
Barbecue tonight, then up early in the morning to see a Frida Kahlo museum and Good Friday pagentry. Stay tuned.
Equivocation
Charles Shaw Robinson as Shagspeare and Andrew Hurteau as Sir Robert Cecil in EQUIVOCATION by Bill Cain at Marin Theatre Company. | Photo by Kevin Berne
Were there really weapons of mass destruction? Will torture get us the answers we need, or just the answers we want? Is the country run by its dim, childlike, egocentric leader, or the Machiavellian power behind the throne? Is it morally correct to answer the question asked, or the question implied?
Playwright Bill Cain asks these questions and more not of today’s news, but of William Shagspeare, the protagonist of his new play Equivocation, now in previews at the Marin Theater Company.
King James I, reeling in shock and anger after the failed Gunpowder Plot, (where noble conspirators tunneled under Parliament and placed 36 kegs of gunpowder set to explode and kill the King and his court), commissions Shagspeare to write a play about it. Or at least his minister, Sir Robert Cecil, so instructs the author.
Cecil, ruthless, crippled, evil, manipulative, devoid of conscience or remorse, is strikingly reminiscent of Dick Cheney as he pulls the strings and makes everyone dance. The King is enthralled with witches, and doesn’t much understand what is really happening around him, but Cecil sees to it that he doesn’t need to be aware.
Shagspeare doesn’t really believe in the conspiracy (how could three men tunnel under Parliament undiscovered? Where did the dirt go? How did they get rid of the water from the Thames?) but must write the play in any event.
Various characters define “equivocation” as “telling the truth in dangerous times”, and that is the challenge set forth. The solution is the second act, of course.
Marin Theater is an Equity house; all the actors are professionals, and it shows. I thought Andrew Hurteau, as Cecil (and a variety of other characters) stole the show from Charles Shaw Robinson (as Shagspeare).
Although you might that there was more than enough plot, playwright Cain burdens the script with an irrelevant sub-plot regarding Shagspeare’s daughter and her late twin brother. Given that the play runs 2:45, with extended fight scenes that have little real relevance, this secondary plot feels quite superfluous to me.
What we saw was a premiere: the official opening is Tuesday night. Once again I’m violating deep journalistic canons to bring you the latest news of the Bay Area theater scene. Please don’t tell the Chronicle.
Upscale Vietnamese food in Walnut Creek
I was never a fan of Vietnamese food, largely because I had Vietnamese roomies in college and their idea of cooking soured me on the cuisine for ages.
Then I found cheap Phó houses in Oakland, where I could get a huge bowl of really good chicken noodle soup for next to nothing, and my opinion started to change.
Having heard more than once that the combination of Asian and French cooking emanating from Saigon was the height of the oriental cooking arts, I was still looking for this magic cultural marriage. Look no further, Elévé has opened in downtown Walnut Creek.
Situated diagonally across North Main from City Hall, the dark minimalist interior provides focus for excellent food. Gail and I wandered in tonight about 8:30, pretty late for the ‘burbs on a Sunday night. (We had just lost the 7 pm speedball tournament on Bridge Base).
We started with the vegetarian spring rolls, which are not at all like what you might be accustomed to in a Chinese place. These are not fried, the wrapper is like a paper-thin noodle and the filling is crisp and fresh. Complemented by a tangy, pungent dipping sauce, they are a completely new experience.
We then shared a Pork Firepot; pork belly and shoulder cooked in an anchovy broth with hard cooked eggs. “Anchovy” scares many people, but it has no fishy taste at all, just richness and depth. The seasonings were soft and delicate, not strong.
Our other dish was yellow curry chicken–but not what you would expect in a Thai restaurant. Again, the seasonings were delicate and thoughtful. The spiciness creeps up on you, it doesn’t assault your tastebuds.
Service got off to a rocky start, but smoothed out nicely. Our waiter was not some kid off the street starting out–we recognized him from Va Di Vi, where he worked for a year.
Being all green and eco-conscious is the rage these days, but restaurants lose points with me when they don’t offer the normal non-sugar sweeteners, instead foisting “Stevia” on me. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Give me the blue stuff. Or the yellow stuff. I’ll hug a tree on the way home to atone.
Prices are on the high side of reasonable–our dinner, with 2 glasses of Pinot Grigio was $65. I think the $2/bowl for jasmine rice is tacky.
The answer to the basic question is, Yes, we’d go back. Vietnamese was the original Asian fusion food, and they still do it well. It’s nice to have a casual place with quality cuisine right in the backyard.
Now that’s a tough field
It’s a little known fact that I run a sanctioned bridge game.
Twice a year, Gail and I throw a bridge party. Gail thought it would be fun to offer masterpoints, so I applied for a sanction, and now the Art House Invitational is a legal establishment.
It has grown over the last 4 years from 8 tables to 16, which is the limit our house can hold. I have to hire men to take all the furniture out of the den and most out of the living room, and there is very little room to move anyway. But cram them in we do, and people seem to have a good time.
Tonight, Cass Hawes and Jim Kuhn came in 3rd E/W, with a 53.73% game. Normally, the people who place 3rd don’t get too much praise, but tonight is different. First place went to Hugh and Min Ross. Hugh is a multiple world champion, who has retired from serious competition. Second place were Lew and Joanna Stansby, both of who are world champions. Lew took 2nd place in the Vanderbilt last week, and second place tonight. I guess he’s on a roll.
So Cass and Jim came in right behind two of the toughest pairs in the world, playing in a home game in Lafayette.
The lost Forum article
Okay, it happened again. I wrote an article for the Contract Bridge Forum this month, really I did. Not all that interesting, since it had to be written before the nationals, but I wrote it.
What I may not have done is written it in time. My idea of a deadline doesn’t seem to be the same as my editor’s. I think of it as more of a guideline, a suggestion. He has an entirely different sense of humor.
So he didn’t print it, the rascal. Fortunately, I still have it on my computer, so here it is. I’m going to print it out and take it to the Bridge Center, if anyone is going to Judy Lowe’s club in Danville, or Rossmoor, or Discovery Bay I’d appreciate it if you took them a copy, as well.
Big doings at The Bridge Center this weekend—by which I mean the first weekend in March, since that’s when I get to write this epistle.
Friday night, Ron had his first (of I hope many) Barometer game. Now that we have a dealing machine, it is fairly easy to duplicate 8 or 9 sets of boards. 16 ½ tables showed up, we had a great pot luck supper beforehand, and the night was a success. Grant Vance and Jessica Lai were the overall winners.
The very next morning, Ally Whiteneck had the first of her beginner/intermediate mentoring sessions. What a winner that idea was!! Fourteen tables of newer players showed up to play pre-duplicated hands with an experienced player sitting as the fifth chair to give comments and advice. The hands were analyzed by Grant Robinson, and printed out in a format that he will be able to post on the web, as well. It’s simply brilliant. Ally will be repeating the exercise regularly, the next session is scheduled for April 3. You can email her at: acbl499mentor@gmail.com if you want to be either a mentor or mentee.
So let’s go back in time to the Chris’ Birthday Regional. I think I managed to give you some of the early results, but then Gail and I flitted off to Cuba for a week and missed the last couple of days. (You know about my Cuba trip, right? There were great blog posts every day. Read all about it at unit499.wordpress.com). Starting with the Saturday Imp Pairs, which Dmitri Shabes and Daniel Tataru walked off with. Terry Boyd took third in the morning Side Series—how do you look that good without extra beauty sleep? My darlings Eldonna and Joyce were second in bracket 3 of the morning compact KO’s while Gopi and Kay Aylar, Judy and John Sherwood were 4th in the same bracket.
Sunday, Susan Ledford and Lorin Waxman were 2nd in B in the Seniors. The Sunday evening Swiss, strats B and C winners were Andy Fine, Ellen Beltran, Hedy Wee and Stephanie Singer.
Danny and Linda Friedman were on the winning X team in the Monday A/X Swiss. Second in the B flight went to Troy and Roberta Lemons, Al and Valerie Petersen.
On to the San Mateo sectional. Evan and Courtney Price were 2nd in the X strat of the A/X pairs. Andy Fine and Hedy Wee were 2nd in B.
The unit is having a Swiss team unit game March 27. Get 3 of your best friends together and show up.
Next month is the sectional—but it’s not the Iron Horse sectional, anymore. It’s at Pine Valley School, which is located at 3000 Pine Valley Road, somewhat south of Iron Horse. Look on a map, don’t get lost, don’t go to the wrong spot. April 16, 17, 18. Elegant Pairs Friday night—get out your finest, arrange a hot date, the women all fall for a guy in a tux. I’ll be in Gatlinburg, is there a volunteer for Cleavage Prize judge?
And that’s it for March. The Reno NABC is coming up, there should be big news next month. Regular updates available on the blog Unit499.wordpress.com. Email me with your own successes at chris@pisarra.com and you’ll never be left out.
Dinner at Bonnie and Ron’s
The four short trains are the individual player's. The one long one is the Mexican Train
Enough busting my brain trying to count trump. Tonight we went over to Bonnie and Ron’s for dinner and Mexican Train.
Bonnie cooks a mean little chicken. Or Cornish Game hen, but in my house they were just called little chickens. My mother always thought that because they were small they would cook quickly, which is why I’ve eaten many an undercooked little chicken. Bonnie gets it right. Because she likes me, she made two dishes of rice–one with mushrooms, and one that I would be willing to eat.
The south end of the table.
Then it was time for the Mexican Train. If you haven’t played this silly game, it’s a dominoes variation. The usual matching of dots is eased by having color-coded tiles for those of us who can no longer see across the table to discern whether that is 11 or 12 spots. Everyone plays their own “train”, or they can play on the joint “Mexican Train”, as they choose.
There are silly rules, of course. When you are down to two tiles and play one, you have to say “woo woo” or you face a penalty. Some of us woo better than others.
The north end of the table--more rowdiness here.
I want to say that there is little to no skill involved, but then I notice how often Ron wins. He is the one counting, counting, counting, just like at the bridge table. He knows how many 3 spots are left, and who couldn’t play on a 3 last round. So there may indeed be skill, it’s just over my head.
Dessert was a Boston Cream Pie, which is just heaven in a 9″ circle. I drew magic tiles and won a game. It was raining lightly on the way home, which makes a wonderful sound in the convertible. Life is good.
I’m Number 3248!!
Okay, I’d like to say I’m number one, but it just isn’t happening.
They posted the list of masterpoint winners in Reno, and out of 4571 players who won masterpoints, I’m number 3248. I brought home a massive 4.48 points for my week’s play.
The highest total in our area belongs to Kit Woolsey, of Kensington. He was 25th with 188.75 points for the week. Manfred Michlmayr picked up 51 points, and the mystery man Wayne Rechnitz is 2260th with 9.42 points. Who is this guy?
Judy Keilin and Jack Meng hit it big for over 20 points. Ching Chao, playing with pick up partners most of the time, brought home 18, Fred and Jeanne Cochran are in for almost 12.
Joyce and Harold Mirwald picked up 7.46 points, Carol Cottam has 4.6, Joyce and Eldonna won 3.90.
And since somebody has to hold down the last place, let’s note that new player Carl Caven, of Walnut Creek, gets the place of honor, winning 0.18 points and getting the prize for being 4571st. Good for him.
Perfectly dreadful
Did you ever see such a pitiful number of plus scores?
I set a new record today. Gail and I played at Mosswood, as we do every Tuesday, and we managed a total of FOUR plus scores.
We made one game, and one partial. Set the opponents twice. That’s all, folks. Every one of the other 22 boards we got a negative score on–although we were only set twice, the opponents made 6 games and 3 slams.
At least our score sheet was exceptionally tidy. And we weren’t last. We weren’t next to last. Third underall, that’s us. 41.14%, which is actually much better than I thought we were doing.
Once, 4 or 5 years ago, Gail and I had a 28% game. Today’s game felt just as bad, yet was almost half again as good. Probably because it is so hard to estimate your game when all the cards are against you and they are making contract after contract.
At least it’s over. But that’s the single most dreadful looking private score I have ever seen, and I hope to never see one like it again.
Reno NABC results, final
Final. Finally. At last. I’ve been to plenty of nationals, sometimes staying as long as 2 whole weeks, yet none seemed longer than this one, even though I came home on Saturday morning. I think the city of Reno is just tiring. On the good side, the comps system at the hotel pays off–I got almost $4 taken off my bill for the time Gail and I spent at the tables.
Attendance was 12, 196.5 tables. A heck of a lot of people for a town with barely two decent restaurants and no trees. Next time, in 6 years or so, I think we’ll be downtown. More hotels in walking distance, much easier to get out for an hour or two and get some fresh mountain air.
Grant and Terry went out with a bang, coming in 6th in the BCD teams with Larry Miller and Brad Komsthoeft.
More people I don’t know: Sandra Williams of Walnut Creek was 14th OA, 4th in the X flight of the A/X teams Sunday.
Linda Bandler and Tom Jacobson were 9th in the Fast Pairs.
Bob Munson and Bruce Tuttle took 40th in the North American Swiss teams.
In the immortal words on Dennis Miller, “That’s the news and I am outta here.” At least until the next tournament, or restaurant, or movie, or trip arises. Thanks for reading.
Totally Unauthorized 