Week in Review

The northland trip was successful. I got back last night. It was beautiful all week in the Bay Area. I was rooming with my normal buddy Cam, who is a bit of a lush, but managed to only start off only one day with shots, so we did not descend into our normal alcoholic stupor.

I don't have a lot to say, since I am fighting a bit of writer's block. Hardly took a picture either. However a few rich vignettes from the week do seem to rise to the surface of my memory.  We stayed at the Crown Plaza in Foster City (a city that rose like the phoenix from the garbage dumps a few decades ago.) There was a loud wedding, party or function every night. On Saturday, returning from dinner, we returned to the hotel to find a pretty but bombed out young girl sitting on the sidewalk path to the hotel, with a pool of puke on one side and her mascara running down her face. She had evidently peed her pants as well. Her friends were comforting her. Cam, in a most compassionate voice, tisked," We've all been there honey." Wish that I had my camera as she looked like one of the painted marionette dolls from Night Gallery.

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The show is probably the largest antique show on the west coast, but has shrunken considerably in the last five or six years. Where it once was two large halls with a slough of side rooms, now it barely fills one hall. Dealers have retired, died or given up the business. There are a variety of factors, including the internet, recession and a lack of interest in things antique on the part of the younger generation.

Where I was once one of the green rookies in the business, I have suddenly turned into one of the old grey beards. When and how in the hell did this happen?

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I heard from a lot of Blast readers at the show. Got an earful from a couple that I had stopped sending it to. I sort of handpick who is going to get the Blast, figuring that people can bookmark the site if they want to, not wanting to constantly inundate everybody with my stream. But a few take umbrage when they are missed. Do I create a master list and hit everybody, risking alienating people with my verbosity, or continue to just mail it to you ever so often?

It is also interesting to me that certain people tell me that they like the personal stuff the best, while others tell me that they just want the political or hard edged stuff and dread the personal. Some come only for the music. Some come for the food. Some just want to savor the delicious and witty repartee. I know that I obviously can't please everybody and will just keep trying to tread the delicate line and give you both barrels to the best of my ability.

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I went out to a bar in Burlingame on night with a few of the guys. A rather large and very forward woman quite openly signaled her availability to me. I graciously declined but sincerely appreciated the offer. Always nice to be asked.

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I stopped at my normal hotel stop in Santa Nella on the way back. There was a loud cacophony of shrieking sound over the hotel that I had never heard before. On closer inspection I saw that it was a huge  flock of starlings. It was Hitchcockian and intense. They were shitting everywhere and you couldn't even touch the handrails. Creepy. If it had been my hotel I think that I would have pulled out the shotguns. They have raised their price twenty bucks and stopped taking coupons, so I may have to find a new resting spot.

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Took a tiny bit of guff about my "trip to the Castro." Will only say that I think there should be a spot for J.Edgar Hoover and Clyde on the Rainbow Walk as well.

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Saw my Dad on the way back. He may have a tumor behind his eye. It is shut and he won't stop itching it. He is in a sort of V.A. hospice daycare. He doesn't know my name but did call me son, which was nice. I hope that he has a soft landing as well. I appreciate my stepmother's devotion so much and don't know what we would do without her.

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A rush is falling asleep in the second lane only to wake up and find that you are still alive and driving 75 miles per hour. Three occasions yesterday. I stopped and took a short nap.