Yuppie Safety Revolution!

I haven't been blogging much lately, partly because I just haven't felt like it, and partly because I've been so busy. In order to earn some extra dough, I took on a large grantwriting project, which involves writing reams of text about planning for the management of various public safety hazards.

I must say it has been very interesting, as my attitude towards law enforcement has always been one of dislike, and my attitude towards other people who work with various emergencies has been one of, well, mostly indifference and incomprehension, as thoughtless as that sounds. Working on the project has made me realize that a lot of very sweet little boys who love toys, and stories about good guys saving the day, grow up and go into law enforcement. Still, at heart, I am not a person who loves the enforcement of public order by authorities. Though on the other hand, if, say, a chemical plant blows up, I'd like someone to be in charge.



I took a break from my ceaseless writing to celebrate T's graduation from San Francisco State, with a B.A. in History. Ask him about Upton Sinclair sometime, I dare you. We ate at a rather perfect restaurant called Chez Papa, which was totally worth walking up a lot of hills and paying a whole lot of money. The sauce on T's mussels may have been the most delicious thing ever.



After dinner, we crossed the freeway overpass from Potrero Hill back to the Mission, headed for Hugh and Mati's. Hugh threw a slideshow/party to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the 1968 uprising in France, which balanced very well with too much time spent thinking about the management of "incidents." Slideshow? Sounds boring? It was full of humor, great graphics, irreverence, and big questions about why and how social change happens.

I especially enjoyed the lack of true-believerism of it all, the shouted comments and debate. Though I consider myself left of liberal (that quiz says I'm left libertarian), I get annoyed by unsubtle cheerleading about leftist causes, especially when that cheerleading is about some wonderful "leader" who is going to make it all better.

Below are some not so great photos of some of the many people who were there.

Mati and Kate


The host


Part of the throng who enjoyed spending Saturday night trying to translate french denuciations of capitalism and situationist slogans into English

Ohio

So I went to Ohio to visit my parents.

I won't pretend that my parents didn't disappoint me. I always really wanted to get away from home as a kid, and live a life completely unlike the one I knew. And I did. But them getting older has changed my attitude towards them. They're in their late 70s now, and I worry about them.


I've known Kim for almost as long as I've known my parents. We were best friends growing up in the suburbs of Cleveland. As kids we lived in our own little world of weirdness, which was a great comfort to me. Once my husband told me that I sound different whenever I talk to Kim on the phone, more relaxed.


Kim is a very hardworking mom. While I visited, we got a chance to sneak away for a night out. We stayed in a fancy hotel, and consumed a number of cocktails. I loved the Prosperity Social Club in Tremont, a big old bar that was cool without trying too hard. I won't repeat all of the strange private jokes we have been rehashing for decades.


The next day, we got together with Stan, Arun, Marc, and Mr. R. I saw Mr. R and Arun just a couple of years ago, but I hadn't seen Marc and Stan for about twenty years. I felt like I could have talked to them all day. I also noticed that not too many people get to the age of 40 or so without having had something really sad happen to them.


Mr. R is quite a bit older than 40, but apparently he has a picture in his attic, because he looks about the same to me as he did when I was a teenager. I will never forget when I was in high school, and Mr. R. read from his favorite book, A Death in the Family, to our English class. He was so moved by the words that his voice trembled and his eyes filled with tears. That is how much he cared about the power of words, and he cared that much about his students too. Mr. R still seems just as passionately engaged with life as ever, and that inspires me.

After brunch, Kim and I went to a baseball game. When we were kids, my dad subscribed to The Plain Dealer, and hers got The Cleveland Press. Both of us would cut pictures of our favorite baseball players out of our respective newspapers and look at them together. We especially liked Rick Manning, because he was cute, not because he was a good player.



This is how I spent a lot of my trip: driving back and forth between my parents' house and Kim's over the flat Ohio highways.