Short version:

I'm here.

I've started posting the story and the pictures—see here and here.

I've been living in the city for just a week. The first weekend was the Alternative Press Expo, which went really well... I think, but I was pretty damn tired so I'm not sure. Didn't get any photos, didn't party at all, and can't think what to say about the books because I still haven't read half the stuff I got. Next year maybe I'll really get in the spirit.

Anyway... more later. I'm glad to be here.

So I've been in San Francisco now for just about two weeks. Most of that time has been spent in job- and apartment-hunting, but not all of it.

Some good things:

• An excellent Rasputina show which was correctly described by Susan as "rocking."
• Body Familiar by Joe Goode at the Magic Theatre. Thinking back, I can see lots of problems with the script (mostly, whenever he reached for realism, or had characters commenting rather than interacting, he lost me) but there was some shockingly good writing and the actors and dancers had a great physical and emotional presence. There was at least one scene where I'm pretty sure the whole audience was holding its breath: an inexpressive man sits at a desk flipping through a newspaper and fending off questions from his wife, while the spirit of his dead ex-lover slowly crawls over and around him and then takes a running leap over the desk and into his arms without anyone missing a beat.
• The Magic Theatre is in the Fort Mason Center, by the water, across from Alcatraz. I hadn't been to the water since I got here... ah. Water is good.
• On 24th Street where I'm living for now, there are lots of pretty good hand-painted signs in front of all the Mexican stores.
• I went to see a documentary about Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping, and I didn't like it (the movie, I mean)—maybe you just have to be there, because he's good. But! It was preceded by a short piece called "Have You Seen This Man?" about Geoff Lupo, whose posters I remember fondly from Brooklyn. Lupo advertises things like "one cracker, 15 cents" and people call him up and buy the things. I don't know where he finds the time, but as he says, he's basically giving people an opportunity to play in a specific way, and that's nothing to sneeze at. (I must say that although he claims to have met people from "all walks of life," the photos of those people all look to me like cheerful college kids... the kind who have time to play and aren't afraid of strangers, which isn't true of everyone.) In the funniest scene, an art-collector guy buys one of the posters in order to make copies and try the game himself; he's so humorless it hurts, but his faith is kind of sweet. Anyway... if you see crackers or thumbtacks for sale, go ahead and call.

Bad things:

• Evil potato salad at a certain so-called "New York bagel" shop which will remain anonymous. I spent 24 hours feeling like someone was taking turns gently punching me in the guts and then in the head every few minutes.

I've sort of resisted addressing politics here or linking to lots of opinion pieces, because there are better places for that, but I can't resist pointing to this Alexander Cockburn column which is one of his better ones. He touches on the NYPD's shameful attempt to corral protests, the question of what it means for Michael Lerner to be "pro-Israel" (follow the link to the Lerner/Abu Sitta dialogue—I hadn't realized he was quite so smug), and the Democratic presidential candidates; but even if you've read all that before, his Midwestern travel note at the end is hilarious.

Anyway, I'll be out on the street on Sunday (it's on Sunday here because the Chinese New Year parade is on Saturday—which should be good too) and for once I don't feel the least bit of anxiety about whether the speakers and chanters will be annoying or misguided or disunited. For one thing, there will be a huge number of people there and they all agree on at least one thing, and that one thing is the most urgent thing right now. For another, those who want to carp about flaws in the movement will be able to do so no matter what; that's not a reason to hide my face.

And I spoke the other day with a friend who thinks the war plans are insane but can't bring himself to stand with the protesters, because he's "a pretty conservative guy" and they're a bunch of leftists who aren't like him. Well yeah, if you stay away because you think there won't be any people like you, and so do most of the other people in your crowd for the same reason, then that might always be true. But I suspect it's already getting more interesting than that. Anyone who thinks an anarchist and "a pretty conservative guy" can't share the same space to constructive effect should talk to people who were in New York during the nuclear freeze movement twenty years ago. (And if you really want to avoid people who might annoy you or who have a different understanding of your goal, you'd better stay home from work too.)

Finally: anyone who plans to keep up with events by watching TV should read these sad pieces on the nature of Gulf War journalism by Don McGregor, Patrick Sloyan and Peter Arnett.

Good things, related to transportation:

• The beautiful Castro movie theater (a transport of delight).
• Helping two clerks chase a trapped pigeon out from under a desk (one of those young squeakers, not very bright even compared to the grown-ups) and transport it out of the post office. I watched them catch it in a big bag, obviously the most fun thing they'd done for weeks. (Then I got to feel all special by telling them it was a fledgling—apparently people here, like in NYC, don't recognize young pigeons when they see them; they think they're just "messed up.")
• Sitting in a bus inching down Market St. and watching an athletic unaccompanied dog ("coyote dog," my friend said) overtake us easily as it darted through the crowd and crossed streets with certainty, on a mission. Lassie's urban cousin or some important dog anyway.
• A recorded announcement in the train station reminding people that the bikes-on-trains rules are different for Sunday, "the day of the peace rally." In New York, I don't think any official voice could ever say "peace rally" instead of just "demonstration" or "event"—it'd be like violating the separation of church and state.
• Catching a cab down Folsom St. with a permanently amused Chinese driver. When the guy in front turned the wrong way, he said cheerily, "Oh, what are you doing, asshole? [to us:] Oh don't worry— he doesn't mind being called asshole— he like it! [peals of laughter] ... He say Thank You!"
• Midnight BART trains with the voices of conductors who want to be DJs. The train had been stalled for a while when that late-night voice came on and said, "Llladies and gentlemen, we have... a problem with the train. In a moment the lights will go out. But do not be alarmed. When they come on... we hope the train will have... magically fixed itself." It did!

Not good:

• I missed the Chinese New Year parade because uh... no reason really.