Watching City Hall #361 (4-11-05)

“The best times to reach me are early, late and in between.”

Excerpted from:

‘h & A – emails along the trail’

I have a birthday coming up (61st) & as is my wont, I’ve been sitting around appraising the last 12 months and looking forward to the next.  Frankly, I’ve had one hell of a year and, since I just graded the supes, I thought I’d grade myself. 

Work

I wrote somewhere around 100 to 150 columns and no one shot me.  My candidates won in districts 1, 3, 5, & 11.  I take complete credit for every one of those victories.  People I supported in 2, 7 and 9 lost and it was all their fault.  My side won on every ballot measure I supported except for the war in Iraq.  Lots of people have gotten shot over that one. 

I haven’t done that well with local issues.  My team got whomped on every major land use issue and nothing could be more critical.  Jack Davis spanked us with his Trinity Plaza deal.  That defeat will eventually cost thousands of low income folks their living spaces.  Look for the Plumbers Union to follow Angelo Sangiacomo’s trail and level their Civic Center Hotel up the street from Trinity Plaza.  The ‘Y’ has already announced they’re open to tearing down their flagship hotel on Golden Gate.

The cops arrested me, hassled me, refused to investigate a break-in of my SRO room and pulled press passes from most of my fellow lefty journalists.  SFPD could be the biggest disaster of the year.  They’ve ignored their own chief when ordered to walk beats and ride the buses for part of each shift.  They’ve increased surveillance and decreased direct public contact.  I spent lots of column space trying to shame them into doing their jobs and it’s mostly been for nought.

I spent 2 months in computer school and haven’t used many of the new skills.  I got shut out in the job market again.  I did 3 serious paint jobs for friends and, if I do say so, I’m a hell of a craftsman in that area.  I spent almost 6 months house and pet sitting which saved me from the hell of living in shelters.

Work grade:  ‘C’ 

Considering how hard I work at keeping up with the Board and the related local players, my output was weak.  I’m still arrogant as hell and haven’t learned not to use the phone when I’m drunk.  I haven’t gotten a single one of my own photos online despite offers from serious IT people to help.  …  Mostly, I’m a lazy, self-indulgent drunken pot head. 

Family

I’m a lousy father, son, and brother.  I avoid my siblings because they’re fundamentalist Christians and I don’t want to fight with them.  I’m about to see my only son for the first time in 31 years and I really don’t know what to say to him.  Mom joined dad wherever it is that the best of people go when they croak.  I was holding her hand when she died but I’ve never been to her grave. 

Family grade:  ‘F’

Friends

I do the friend thing better than I do anything.  I love to work with them and laugh with them and write about them.  I love to watch them dance and paint and sing and play and preach.  “’h.’, you did NOT oversell your friends!”  Courtney Haslett said that to me a couple of years ago when he met a building full of them.  “’h.’, you’re lucky because your friends are your heroes.”  I forget who told me that, but he was right. 

Friend grade:  ‘A’

Romance

I’m a serial flirt.  Oh, if I have a girlfriend I cut that shit out but when I don’t, I’m a serial flirt.  I just love women.  Especially smart ones.  And, strong ones.  Surprisingly, because most men (especially, those my age) are scared shitless of powerful women, the lines at the  thresholds of the hottest babes are embarrassingly short.  So, though I still don’t have a real girlfriend, I get to hang out with the very best of the best.  I asked my new sidekick, Rachel Falmouth what she thought of my chances with the ladies I favor.

Rachel:  “You’re kidding!  So now you’re in love with Krissy Keefer!?”

h.:  “I didn’t say that!  I said that I’m in ‘awe’ of her.  I really think this could be a cosmic match.”

Rachel:  “You said the same thing about Angela & nothing came of that.”

h.:  “You don’t understand.  Nothing has to happen.  I love it so much when I get to go watch Angela argue a case or fire up a crowd of a thousand.  Keefer is even more amazing.  I took her to a baseball game.  There were 40,000 people there and I realized that a couple of weeks earlier, I’d watched her give a rousing speech at an anti-war rally to a crowd twice that large.” 

Rachel:  “What about me?”

h.:  (stares)  “You’re a literary construct.  An experiment.  I use you to spice up the column and piss off feminists.”

Rachel:  (glares and shakes head slowly, deliberately)  “You know, you can go over the edge here and lose your muse.  We don’t HAVE to stay! 

h.:  (looks down, purses lips and exhales a bit)  “I’m sorry.  (nods head)  You’re right.  I invited you into this scene and I’ve totally ignored you.  …  What do you want me to do?”

Rachel:  (looks around at the messy room)  “First, you have to accept the thing you never accepted with Eileen Left.  That is that your fantasies come from somewhere else and have an independent existence of their own.  If you don’t tend us, we’ll go away.  You can pretend you’re in charge, but you really aren’t.  What did Exuperry say?  ‘What is essential, is invisible to the eye.’”

h.:  “So, what can I ask you?  How much knowledge do you have?”

Rachel:  “Everything you know, plus everything else in the universe.”

h.:  “I can ask you anything?”

Rachel:  “Try me.”

h.:  “What is true love?”

Rachel:  (grins a bit, pulls a braid from her hair and shakes it out … her raven & gray locks ripple in flashes in the morning sunlight; she shifts on the bed and turns to face h., sitting with her legs crossed.  …  looks and nods in satisfaction)  “Love is only real when it’s about things that don’t change.  When someone tells you they’re in love, if you study their reasons, you’ll find that most say they love someone because of how they look or because of their family or friends or job; because of the way they dance or sing.  Or, for their car or a thousand other things that can all change.  It’s only true love if someone loves you for the things about you that don’t change.”

h.:  “Like what?”

Rachel:  (shrugs)  “Kindness.  Humor.  Loyalty.  Empathy.  Generosity.  Courage.  Creativity.  Devotion.  …  All those other things can go away in an instant.”

h.:  (staring)  “What’s the meaning of life?”

Rachel:  (without a pause)  “You can’t win.  You can’t tie.  And, you can’t quit.  All you can hope for is to be the last to lose.”

h.:  (puzzled)  “Clarify.”

Rachel:  “Imagine you wake up and find yourself playing in a card game.  You don’t know the rules of the game but you’re a card player, so you keep playing until you figure out the rules.  The rules of the card game you woke up and found yourself playing are, in fact, the rules of life.  …  Rule one is that you can’t win.  Rule two is that you can’t tie.  Rule three is that you can’t quit.  …  All that you can hope for is to be the last to lose.”

h.:  (narrows eyes in thought)  “That’s a pretty fatalistic philosophy.”

Rachel:  “That is the way things are.”

h.:  “OK, save me some trouble.  Am I wasting my time chasing women like Keefer and Alioto?”

Rachel:  (looks up from reading ‘Progress & Poverty’)  “Absolutely not!!  (gestures with both hands)  Because they deserve it.  If you meant to ask if they’re too good for you, … well, of course that’s true.  But, stop thinking this is all about you as usual.  Haven’t you ever noticed that when someone shows an interest in you that it attracts others who thought you either weren’t reachable or wouldn’t consider them.”

h.:  (considers writing some kind of bad experiences into her character’s script)  “So, I’m like … there as a bookmark til someone serious shows up?”

Rachel:  (goes to mirror over corner sink & looks closely at her image in the mirror)  “Are you complaining?”

h.:  (rubs beard and thinks)  “It has been nice.”

Rachel:  (turns from sink, shaking her head and begins series of stretching exercises on the poncho/rug before the television)  “Look at the last couple of weeks!  You’ve had Keefer on your arm at events from the opening of the Gonzalez law firm all the way to the Giants 2005 opener of the Bay Bridge series.  She went to the art show at the Old Mint with you.  Had dinner with your daughter and her family.  Invited you to her last shows and sat with you at tables in bars and restaurants.  (stands fully, rotates body to and fro to complete stretching set … bends and takes 2 Pilsner’s from fridge – tosses one to h.) … What the hell more do you expect?”

h.:  (still twiddling with beard)  “And, the walk along the Bay before the Giants game was nice.  Watching her open the anti-war demonstration with Dance Brigade.  (nods)  Some great moments.”

Rachel:  “And Angela treated you as well if not better.  She got you into every important function in town.  The ones you had to attend but could have never gotten into without her.  The ’10 Year Plan’ inner councils.  The Mayor’s inner circle.  Gave you credibility.  You can’t ask for more than you’ve gotten from these women.  Just don’t expect anything else.”

h.:  “OK.  What should I do next?”

Rachel:  (sips the beer and reaches for the half a joint roach in the ashtray which she fires up and puffs twice – exhaling)  “Well, forget sex.  There are only 3 legitimate reasons to have sex.  Those would be for love or for lust or for money.  All other excuses lead to regrets.  And, … since none of the women in your life at present loves you, lusts for you or hooks, I’d say you should take that part of any relationship equation off the table.”

h.:  (rolls eyes upward a bit and squints)  “Can I publish any of this?  What would be the point?  Wouldn’t these women get mad?”

Rachel:  (shrugs and bending from the waist, places the palms of both hands flat against the floor)  “Sure, publish it.  They don’t look bad.  I mean, you’re charming and witty.  When the lighting is bad, you’re a passable escort.  A girl can be forgiven for letting a few rumors get going.  No one takes you seriously anyway.  And, you must have noticed that everywhere you went, that other potential suitors, emboldened by the fact that these queens would appear with you, broke out their own wares.”

h.:  (hand against forehead)  “These girls do draw a crowd.  …  But, let me get this straight.  You think I should give up pursuing the best women I know.  What am I supposed to do for a love life?”

Rachel:  (Unhooks her halter and drops it to the floor.  Wiggles seductively out of the shorts and stands in all her imaginary splendor)  “Well, you could start by getting me a new wardrobe.  All you gotta do is write it and it happens, right?  (shakes her head again and smirks)  You do better with fantasies anyway.”

Romance grade:  ‘D’

That’s enough of that.  Sunday is yet another birthday.  I am surrounded by opportunities, friends and the best City on Earth.  Every year I make my way down to Fort Mason after dark and drink a bottle of wine under Phil Burton’s statue, look at the bridge and contemplate the past, present and future.  Right now, all of them are looking pretty good.

Happy birthday to me