Island Life 2006:    Jan. - June                                                          

Welcome to the Year 2006.   This Page covers the first half of 2006 so as to allow easier loading. To return to the present time, click on the image above. To roam in time or find a particular entry, use the navigation bar below.    

The missing month of April -- with the Earthquake stories -- has been restored and other problems fixed.

2nd Half 2006 | Year 2005 | Year 2004 | Year 2003 | Year 2002  | Year 2001 | Year 2000 | Year 1999

JANUARY 1, 2006

ON A DARK NIGHT IN A CITY THAT KNOWS HOW TO KEEP ITS SECRETS

Well, its been a quiet week here on the Island. Especially quiet for a quiet Island on account of the weather, the holidays, and the recent faith-based initiative executed by the Island Interfaith Snooker and Boardgame Alliance.

You may well ask yourself, "For the sake of god, what on earth is that?" Reverend Spoonbred, of the Second Baptist Pentacostal Church said exactly that sort of thing, when he heard all about it. But soon found the iniative such to his liking that he has pitched in whole heartedly to the program and cannot say enough about it and all the good it is doing.

Seems Pastor Svenquist of the Stern Lutheran Church of Grand Street fell into talking with Father Morales of the Church of Many Holy Names, which is located on the far side of the block when they chanced to take shelter together at the bus stop during one of those many recent downpours we have been having, for it had been the habit of the Catholic priest to take a walk about the block while cogitating one of his notoriously pious sermons, while the good Lutheran Pastor had been doing the same for the past twenty-five years. And for twenty-five years the two had never exchanged any but the briefest pleasantries, for the Pastor had taken to walking the block counterclockwise, while the Priest had -- perhaps consciously -- talken to walking the block clockwise. So, although engaged in similar business on the same block, the two had not stood in either one's presence for a sum total of thirty-seconds, all in the form of "Good day!" exchanged during that brief passage.

But due to the recent installation of bus shelters all over the island -- and with the primary shelters installed primarily on that particular block of Grand Street, this state of circumstances was about to change.

For who should be waiting at the corner of Santa Clara and Grand at that particular bus stop, but none other than the Rabbi Molochai Mendelnusse. The rain pelted down that day with such fury that the Priest's impermeable became thoroughly destroyed and so there he was. Well, what to talk about? Certainly this was not a place to engage in theological one-upmanship and one can talk about the weather only so much. Especially when things are pressing upon one's mind.

Furthermore a bus did arrive and the Rabbi stood up with his change in his hands. And never were more truthful words ever spoke. For who should descend at that moment but His Holiness Mustapha Omer Kemal, he of the Sacred Crescent Mosque down there on Santa Clara near Sixth Street. This was not Kemal's stop; the bus had broken down.

Pastor Nyquist, seeking to prevent a potentially, um, explosive situation, commented, "Well, I think we can all thank God for this shelter, don't you think."

The priest had to agree. The others also. Several people on the bus, seeing through steam-fogged windows a priest, a rabbi, a Lutheran minister and a Mullah all together stared with abject fear and refused to exit the doors.

"Would that the congregation also felt the same way, " commented the priest, more to himself than to the others.

"Well," said the Mullah, whose eyes had been drawn, perhaps by the Great Adversary, to the headlines of the SF Chronicle blaring from the newspaper kiosk, not everyone is a full believer."

Oh here we go, the age old battles are about to start up again in a moment. Until the Rabbi spoke.

"Oy, and the Jews are the worst."

The minister, the priest and the Mullah looked at him.

"They are terrible. Such trouble they put me through for thirty years, with all of their craziness instead of coming to services. And when they do, such disrespect. They break the sabbath time and again when its yontif they should be making. Then they show up all nice after such sin the night before with drinking and such behavior as shames the names of their families. I am not a tzadik; look at me -- no better than a handyman."

Father Morales caught his breath after this outburst, before stating quite emphatically, "I know what you mean but don't blame yourself. My flock does the same thing. I give them the Word of god on Sunday, but on Saturday, they beat each other up in the bars, refuse to obey the sacrements and otherwise act abominably. . . ."

Pastor Nyquist, who had been looking sadder with every word, simply sat down heavily, saying, "This sounds all so terribly familiar." He then put his head on his hands that were folded on the top of his walking stick and burst into tears.

At this point the Mullah closed his mouth, which had been open for some time. Then it was his turn to speak. "My friends, all of us stand together equally affected by evil."

As it turned out from the ensuing discussion each one of these men of the cloth shared the same main problem about their respective congregations: they all went to services once a week, then went about their business cheerfully sinning all the rest of the days, fornicating, drinking, pride, gluttony, avarice, the whole works. When the rain stopped, the priest kindly invited them to tea in the secular meeting room behind the rectory and word has it they continued a great confab well into the night, in which there was much disputation of the theological kind. Before setting across the street, the Mullah commented, "He who stumbles but one step to god, will enjoy that god then takes two steps towards him."

The Rabbi rather liked that one, and asked permission to use it in his next public address. Permission granted.

All of this would have disappeared from the public consciousness, for the replacement bus eventually arrive, the passengers reembarked and the soggy corner was left behind in the minds of many, but for what happened next Friday night.

Things were in full swing in McGrath's pub, with Alex slinging the Guiness as fast as he could stack them and Peter roaming about rubbing his hands among the rowdy crowds just starting the weekend and the fiddler just warming up. In back, the pleasant crack of the balls clacked over a game of snooker and a pair of lads threw darts at the board placed over the Union Jack. Yes it was a jolly, noisy evening at McGrath's on the Island.

It was then the doors flew back admitting a gust of wind and a chill in the air. The candles all dimmed and the sound of an organ intoning a deep A minor filled the room, although the band was Strictly Bluegrass with all acoustic instruments. The electric lights sputtered, then flickered. Then the candles blew out entirely. A figure appeared in the doorway, wings of a robe or a cape flapping in the wind with the dim light of the streetlight shining behind.

"Oh mah gawd, seasons don't fear the Reaper!" Charlene said, clutching fearfully at her throat.

Other figures appeared behind the first and Patrick picked up his Kerry stick ready to die for his pub and his people. Oh things did not look good indeed for what strange being was this.

But Patrick had seen the Troubles and rough times indeed, playing as a busker in the tube stations in all the great cities of the world. Well he knew the trash cans of the Paris Metro where sometimes a decent crust could be had. Patrick had fire in his belly, he had come a long way and if this be a ghost, this ghost would get such a thwack as to send him right back to the supernatural underworld, and be damned.

Then the voice spoke out of the impenetrable darkness. "Oh gevalt! What means this kugel of a cudgel? Is this any way to assault your guests in coming?"

The lights came back on and in trooped Rabbi Mendelnusse, Father Morales, Pastor Nyquist, and the Mullah, followed by Minister James N'gawa of the Baptist Church, and Ripoche Wei Sic Mao, of the Peoples Temple of Tibet, and a number of others besides, for the others, having heard of this grand plan to save souls, could not abide being left out of it. There were Methodists, Ecumenicals, three sorts of nuns, two different Buddhist sects, Hindus, of the Sikh persuasion, 7th Day Adventists, a couple of nattily dressed Mormons, a brace of Watchtower Witnesses, and one lonely Secular Humanist.

What'll ya have," asked Alex.

A number of mineral waters were ordered as the clergy began breaking out the checkerboards and mumbly-pegs on the scattered tables. It was then Peter laid down the house rules, principally that there was a five dollar cover charge. For the band, of course.

"Any other rules you have mister?", Minister N'gawa asked.

"No fightin' in my bar. You get along or I throw you out. We want no trouble here."

Well, its been that way ever since, with the clergy showing up unannounced at randomly selected establishments all over the Island every Friday and Saturday since. For once they realized that their respective differences were essentially meaningless and egotistical in the face of the common message, all the different brands of this and that put aside their quibbles about popes and virgin births and meccas so as to at the very least, try and save a soul or two. Everywhere they go, they set up their checkerboards and card games of fish and mumbly-peg and for that night in that place there is no swearing, no drunkenness and no cheeting at snooker. No one knows how long this is going to last or if the Hari Krishnas will be allowed to join. But it is all great fun mixing the sacred and the profane.

And that's the news from the Island.

LIKE THE WEATHER

The second major storm in two days washed across Northern California on Sunday, prolonging threatSof flooding as residents tried to clean up thick layers of mud and debris left behind as the first wave of floodwater receded.

Hundreds of homes and businesses were inundated on Saturday as heavy rain sent the Napa and Russian rivers spilling over their banks.

In many areas, the rivers and creeks were back within banks, though some towns remained flooded or flooded again as the rain, heavy at times, came and went throughout the day Sunday. The Sonoma County town of Guerneville was among those still fighting floodwater amid pouring rain as of this morning (January 2)

New Years Day dropped another two to three inches, on top of the 4 to 9 inches that had already swamped the region, according to the National Weather Service.

Wildfire-damaged areas of Southern California were also under a flash flood watch and a threat of mudslides as heavy rain headed in their direction. The Sierra's remain under Winter Storm Watch and all travellers are urged to leave the area and those intending to head on up should change their plans and not do so. The coast is under Heavy Surf Advisory with High Winds warnings.

Massive mudslides kept road crews busy moving rock and debris that shut down Interstate 80 through the Sierra Nevada and other roads across the region.

In Guerneville, where the Russian River crested 10 feet above flood stage early Sunday, the downtown was largely spared but low-lying areas and an unknown number of homes flooded, said Linda Eubanks of Sonoma County's Office of Emergency Services. Late Sunday, Eubanks issued an evacuation order for all residents.

In San Anselmo, about 20 miles north of San Francisco, streets were coated with mud and business owners sorted through mounds of damaged goods Sunday, a day after floodwater pilled over the creek and flooded downtown to a depth of four feet. Two of our roving correspondants heading for Tomales Bay were forced to turn back on Sir Francis Drake due to the flooding which is closing bridges and highways throughout the area.

Town Administrator Debbie Stutsman said initial assessments put the damage in town at about $10 million.

Several minor mudlides have destroyed homes in Marin.

In Oakland, the Mayor's Office of Emergency Services has announced a central location for property owners to obtain sandbags.
Caltrans is busy unstopping drains and clearing flooded roadways and freeway onramps.

Mud and debris also covered the streets of downtown Napa, where officials estimated about 1,000 homes and an unknown number of businesses had flooded, as well as thousands of acres of rural land in the county. The river had crested 5 feet above flood stage in Napa on Saturday and was continuing to drop Sunday. Highway 12 is now impassable. Highway 12 is the left-hand image. Downtown Napa is on the right.

North of Sacto, a couple dikes have already failed with extensive flooding in largely uninhabited areas to this point. No word on extent of damage yet.

Reno is largely underwater right now. This image is of the traffic island in downtown center.

Officials are saying that this is not as bad as the storms of 1987, as the Sierra snowpack developed late and sparsely, resulting in little snow below 7,000 feet. If the slopes had been clad with miles of soft snow ready to melt on contact with rain, the story would have been quite more serious here.

Nevertheless, STAY HOME, PEOPLE!

LOOK OUT MY WINDOW: STILL RAINING

Happy New Year everybody! Welcome to the first entry of the new year, making this the seventh consecutive year that Island-life has been making weekly reports on the San Francisco Bay Area, presenting images of the High Sierra and otherwise fighting the good fight on the part of truth, justice and freedom in the US.

For those of you new to this space, we'll do a little precis later on focussing on what this space is all about and provide some numbers. In brief, over 61,000 people visited this site in 2005.

LOOK OUT MY WINDOW: STILL RAINING

Happy New Year everybody! Welcome to the first entry of the new year, making this the seventh consecutive year that Island-life has been making weekly reports on the San Francisco Bay Area, presenting images of the High Sierra and otherwise fighting the good fight on the part of truth, justice and freedom in the US.

For those of you new to this space, we'll do a little precis later on focussing on what this space is all about and provide some numbers. In brief, over 61,000 people visited this site in 2005.

It was a moderately rambunctious year on the Island, which started off in January as the Koi Indian Nation attempted to get a ten story hotel/casino built down there near the High Street bridge in Oaktown. This caused quite a flap, as the scale of the project truely pushed people's buttons with the traffic and crime bad enough over there in that district. Ultimately, the Koi Nation was persuaded to put the casino in a more sensible location away from the Oaktown metro area and away from the sensitive wetlands which would have been entirely destroyed for miles in all directions. The Koi Nation consists of a scattered group of people whose ancestral homelands up north were seized long ago, resulting in a sort of gypsy condition for the people.

March saw the groundbreaking for the new library which has been ten years in the making, as councilmembers have fought for funding. The first phase of the Park Street "Streetscape" project was completed, making the main commercial district here look a lot more spiffy. On a down note, the Fifteen Group sent a mass eviction notice to over 1,500 people living at the troubled Harbor Island complex. The place has been long a hotspot for drugs, theft, murder and prostitution, but this mass eviction hit the City quite hard and a lawsuit was applied against the Texas-based landlord who had sent the evictions with the intention of turning the low income housing into upscale Yuppieville by way of extensive renovation.

The plans for the renovation, however, differed from what had been permitted. So the fight went on.

Into Spring, the retired aircraft carrier, The Hornet, was just about to be sent packing for failure to pay rent to the City at its moorings, but last ditch negotiation on the part of the museum curators and a few well-endowed benefit events managed to rescue the ship from the ignominious fate of a Fisherman's wharf moorage.

August saw the very avaricious and rather obnoxiously arrogant Fifteen Group sell the now empty Harbor Bay complex to a California company. Good bye and good riddance.

The Island turned out in force to send truckloads of supplies to the devastated areas along the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina.

Island-Life provided a 25 pound box of medical supplies to be sent to New Orleans as well as a check for $500.00

As November got her nails dug in deep, the City Council was sued by the Citizens for a Megaplex-free City, when people became outraged that the plans for the old Paramount theatre, slated for its own renovation, were to include a massive 10 screen project that would engulf the entire block behind it, as well as the entire block across the street, which would feature a staggering 350 car, six story parking garage monster, which would dwarf every single other building on the island as well as violate height restrictions of three stories that have been in place for over thirty years. Only a single public meeting had been held on the plans, which had been publicized as "Agenda Item number four" during a regular City Council Meeting. Eventually, the project was scaled back when the back lot tenant, Longs, refused to move out and yield its parking lot and building, leaving Video Maniacs, the little guy, to be demolished. VM is now in a good location on Park Street.

The metal cutout artwork bolted to the playground fence at Washington Elementary School caused a little tsunami after hanging there for well over 18 months when someone complained that three of the figures were racist depictions of an African-American child playing jumprope.

The Annual Island Poodleshoot and BBQ ended in disarray with unfortunate loss of many poodles who got clean away. Padraic was forced to employ seared Ahi on the grill and the visiting White House representative was sent home much abused. You'll have to scroll down to Thanksgiving to find out all about it. We may create a PDF for download later on.

In December the car of the missing Dr. Zehara Attari was found with the missing doctor inside -- in the estuary at the foot of the boat landing at the end of Grand Street. This landing seems to attract trouble for this is the second time this year that a car drove out into the waters, killing its inhabitants.

That's the way it was during the lamentable year of 2005. Have a great New Year.

JANUARY 8, 2006

LIKE THE WEATHER

The Island weathered the recent spate of storms with only minor flooding, That stretch of Webster over by the Tube flooded as usual and falling trees took out power for 1,200 people for a few hours, but we pretty much handled our own better than most.

Some friends just came back from Dorado catching -- and Xmas evasion -- in Baja only to see images of their own downtown San Anselmo under four feet of water broadcast on national CNN while waiting for connector flights in Dallas.

Saturday the clouds glowered all along Grizzly Peak, which would make them dense tule fogs up there, but the place remained basically dry.

Neighbor Karen was out pruning the irresponsible hydrangeas and raking the weeds under the cool sun on Sunday. The bulbs that have lain hidden for months appear to be doing something. Some little inhuman feller has been chomping on the Swiss chard. Stay tuned for reports on the Peru Beans.

Word is that more rain is forecast for Tuesday-Wednesday, confirming the Farmer's Almanac warning that this winter would be a wet one to remember.

THE SWEET AND LOWDOWN

We now swing into the post-holiday season which traditionally tends to be a lukewarm period as the brand name acts sharpen their swords for the hot spring into summer season. Nevertheless we have some sizzle here and there. Mark Hummel brings his annual Blues Harmonica Blowout to Yoshis for the 15th year 1/13-1/15. This event typically sells out for very good reason.

On this side of the Bay, here's a hot tip for you aficionados of guitar: Dave Grisman, he of beard and mandolin, will kick off a tour with several bands in celebration of the music of Django Reinhart at Zellerbach Hall on the last day of January. This is likely to be quite an exciting evening, for Grisman has been known to playfully cross genres before with aplomb and sheer genius. And he does have the chops to accompany any man who dares tackle material from the man who has been acclaimed as the greatest guitar player who ever lived by generations of musicians and critics.

Also on the insiders track, we note that Cat Power and the Memphis Rhythm Band hold forth at the venerable Palace of Fine Arts 2/23-24. Not one of those steady gigging musicians, Cat Power tends to pick and choose the place and moment of her periodic eruptions on the scene.

The fledgling Independent continues to flex interesting booking muscle and the high point this month probably will be the North Mississippi Allstars 1/13-1/14 on a weekend that seems to have a lot of sparkle for the time of year. Ask them to play "Old Wind Die Down" and settle in for a 10 minute auditory feast.

Our insider correspondent, Kathy Pomianek -- well all right, she's the publicist for chrissake -- informs us of the schedule of the hottest Americana band to hit the circuit in years and that be Houston Jones of course.

[schedule deleted]

As for Oaktown's Ron Thompson, he will be living the high life for the week 1/9-1/15 with Taj Mahal and similar men of blues stature on the Blues Cruise some of you may have been hearing about. This event brings together some of the real blues powerhouses for a weeklong gig on board a big cruise ship that will dock at several island countries in the Caribbean. When he comes back he is booked for small shows at Porky's in Fresno and the Poor House Bistro in San Jose. We will not see him around her until March 18th.

All this and more in the East Bay, which is rapidly becoming THE place to be for music and the arts in the Bay Area.

YOU BETTER RUN

It's been a long time since this flabby chest broke the finish line tape -- which to tell the truth is only a length of reddish yarn spooled out from an old spindle at one end and held in the grip of a track official or somebody's kid brother -- but you too may experience such joy as may befall your lot. Or maybe not, depending on who shows up. For the Annual Bay Area Marathon for Leukemia and Lymphoma is gathering names. Think you can't run 26 miles or so? Think again my friend. The Association is putting together a training regimen under the rubric "TEAMinTRAINING.ORG and you can go there and learn all about how to become a lean mean running machine in what is billed as the largest endurance sports training program in the world.

This single event is only one of many on which the resources of this group are focussed, for they are also featuring the Avenue of the Giants Marathon in the north woods, the Mayor's Midnight Marathon in Anchorage Alaska, the infamous Death Ride of the California Alps (cycling) , the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon and the two Ironman Triathalons at Lake Placid NY and Penticton, BC, Canada.

Well, the Ironman may be beyond your reach, but walking a marathon length is not beyond you, no matter how much of couch potato you have become.

Hey, get out and do something for yourself and for somebody.

THIS ISLAND LIFE

It's been a quiet week here on the Island. Perhaps, since this is the turn of the year we should recap the spiel about what this is all about. We live on an island in the middle of the San Francisco Bay. There are several islands in the bay, which may surprise you. Alcatraz is the most famous, of course, and the most visible. Angel Island is largely uninhabited for the exception of a herd of deer and the occasional Park Service Ranger. Treasure island is induibitabley an island although nobody thinks of it as such for the Bay Bridge bisects its presence with sturdy aplomb and few claim to be residents, for the simple matter of getting on or off the place is taking your life in your hands. Harbor Bay used to be and Island, but they filled in the strait to make it join to the airport lands. Coast Guard island is our own kept secret and so we will say no more about it.

We have lived on other islands -- the Republic of Ireland for example -- and we can say that all islanders share an insular quality which is difficult to define but which tends to the pragmatic and a certain ineffable spirituality. But this island in particular is one special place, chock filled with curiosities and unique madness. Our police department possesses the most efficient traffic enforcement division in the world bar none, but has failed to catch five take-over bank robbers in succession. The sixth was caught jaywalking.

We have our sets of characters, to be introduced in a later issue. Oh yes, and we are all about reporting on the media and the events talking place which concern the citizens of this Island and of the East Bay in general. For let it be known that this is the district that elected Barbara Lee, the only member of the Congress to speak out against the foolish war in Iraq from Day 1. We love our Barbara and we say to her in defiance of all opposition and jinoistic war mongering, "You go, girl!"

We take letters and all sorts of communiques from people all over the world and we stand fast with Fred Langa who runs the Langalist.com, which devotes a portion of its income to assisting kids less fortunate than us with computers around the world. To date we have helped some 12 kids living in third-world countries to obtain the basic necessities to survive in places that lack electricity, running water, and stable sources of food. Fred is an angel and we like helping angels because that is our job. When not performing media criticism, evaluating new local music, rating local restaurants and otherwise being local busybodies.

In our off hours, we moderate elections in Red States, make artwork to sell and provoke and make bad noise with supposedly musical instruments.

In the news, we note that a man attempting to rob the 7/11 down there on Buena Vista and Park Street managed to get his escapade entirely filmed by the store's surveillance cameras, which showed him punching and kicking the store clerk until police --alerted by irritated customers -- stormed in at gunpoint and arrested the fool. The 7/11 is one block from the police headquarters for the Island.

As for last week's "faith-based initiative" to clean up the bars on the Island and bring folks back into the fold, well, it all fell apart. You had to know that a coalition of Presbyterians, Protestants, Catholics, Jews, Islamic Mullahs, and Baptists just would not fly very far. It all fell apart when a dispute arose as to whether it were possible to consecrate a slice of carrot cake and a glass of beer. Body and blood of god, you see.

Well, we are a religious lot on the island. For that's the way it is on the island. Have a great week.

JANUARY 14, 2006

WE SHALL ALL GO TO JORDAN -- I MAY NOT BE WITH YOU, BUT WE SHALL ALL GO TO JORDAN

This Monday saw the annual celebration of the life and works of one of the great Statemen of the 20th Century, Martin Luther King, Jr. Predictably, as at every national holiday, there were those who took the opportunity to grandstand and speechify, and even the Bushy made a baldfaced appearance before the people he has largely spurned during the years of his rule.

But these quibbles cannot detract from the immensity of King's generous contribution to our Nation, for when we speak of pride in America we can point to such a man and say, "Now that was a real American who did things and did them well." Yes, this country went through a corrosive period, a shameful period, and unspeakable acts have been committed, but we also have heros who fought injustice and deep-seated hatred with passion and humility and persistence and although much work remains to be done, much has been accomplished and no other nation can claim this sort of man or this kind of process.

It was not necessary to be utterly destroyed by a foreign power to turn the nation around; Americans did it themselves led by women and men such as King and Rosa Parks and this is the real source of pride in America. We did it and we can do better if we try.

WON'T YOU JOIN THE COMMON DISASTER

The Island may look a bit beat in this weather, but we have been holding our own. Other parts of the County across the water (the Island is part of Alameda County) have not been so lucky, for the County has been included in the list of Disaster Areas for Northern California as a consequence of the unusual sequence of storms recently experienced and even as another dockwallopper plows into the Bay Area today.

Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger Friday declared a state of emergency for 11 more counties that sustained damage from severe storms that impacted California since last month.

The governor added the counties of Alameda, Alpine, Amador, Colusa, Contra Costa, Fresno, Kings, San Luis Obispo, Santa Cruz, Shasta and Tulare to the list of counties eligible for state and federal assistance as a result of the heavy rains and flooding.

The counties join seven other California storm-damaged counties already under states of emergency since last week. Those counties are Del Norte, Humboldt, Mendocino, Napa, Sacramento, Sonoma, and Trinity counties.

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

Recent events in recent weeks have restored the Island's special place among "The 39" (law enforcement agencies) as a place where the criminal element is, well, quite special.

And by that, we mean along the lines of, say, Jerry's Kids.

Last week a man entered the Petco store located at Southshore Shopping Center, forced open a cage and stuffed the contents -- a rare infant Amazonian parrot -- into a shopping bag before running out the door. The bird is a Sun Conure, native to Brazil, and as it has not matured after only 3 months on this planet, needs to be hand fed a specialized formula.

Noooo, sunflower seeds aint gonna work, pal.

At $550 per bird, the thief may have imagined that he had gotten away with quite a deal, but he may have quite an expensive cacciatore on hands if he does not know how to feed the thing.

Anyone with information may call Petco at 510-864-1844 or the Alameda police at 510-337-8340.

Also continuing a fine Island tradition, hackers defaced the City's webpage with the slogan "SPYKIDZ OWNS YOUR SYSTEM" early Thursday morning. Officials assured the public no confidential records were compromised, but really. We can understand taking on IBM or Microsoft or the hapless Federal Government, but the Island? That is like your basic member of the motorcycle gang The Outlaws beating up an eight year old walking home from school. Oh Spykidz you really proved something big now didn't you.

In another demonstration of brilliance, a cashier at Office Max -- also at Southshore Mall -- stole a credit card from, of all organizations, The Fraternal Order of Oddfellows, so as to pay off phone bills in excess of $468. Yeah, guess you figured they never would figure out that one: a payment to Sprint for an account linked directly to your name and your house.

What Island-Life is just dying to know is just what the hell was worth talking about to rack up long distance charges of nearly $500? Well, the cashier gets one free call now. From the slammer.

A man driving a gold 2001 Acura RSX -- hardly a poverty indicator -- got out of his car and ordered a bicyclist on Versailles Avenue to stand and deliver. The bicyclist, obviously poorer than the thug driving the car, mentioned that he owned nothing, had nothing, and would give nothing. And with nothing, the would-be robber drove off.

And in our final note on these sordid events in a dark city that knows how to keep its secrets, we have a report that soccer players on the Island High School team checked into their locker room during halftime to find the place had been ransacked during the game with the Jets, also of the Island.

In addition to the usual electronics, the scamps made off with tons of completed homework assignments, and we feel that this act is really the last straw and worthy of another severe "Now really!"

THEY CALL IT STORMY MONDAY

The latest Northern California winter storm dumped up to 18 inches of new snow across parts of the Sierra Nevada Saturday and caused major traffic tie-ups for drivers.

A winter storm warning was in effect for much of Saturday along the western slopes of the mountains, where a cold storm lowered snow levels to below 3,500 feet.

Meanwhile, chains were mandatory on all three major highways between the Sacramento and Reno areas, including Interstate 80 over Donner Summit, US-50 over Echo Summit and State Route 88 over Carson Pass. Big rigs traveling westbound on I-80 were also being held at the California-Nevada line to avoid adding to the major congestion over Donner Summit.

Drivers along Interstate 80 faced extended delays, including stretches of up to two hours where travelers didn't move at all.

The National Weather Service said the storm was expected to drop from five to eight inches of snow below 7,000 feet and ten to 14 inches of snow above 7,000 feet by Sunday morning.

Saturday the clouds glowered all along Grizzly Peak, which would make them dense tule fogs up there, but the place remained basically dry.

Neighbor Karen was out pruning the irresponsible hydrangeas and raking the weeds under the cool sun on Sunday. The bulbs that have lain hidden for months appear to be doing something. Some little inhuman feller has been chomping on the swiss chard. Stay tuned for reports on the Peru Beans.

Word is that more rain is forcast for Tuesday-Wednesday, confirming the Farmer's Almanac warning that this winter would be a wet one to remember.

LETS DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN

Well it's been a busy week on the Island what with weather changes and sudden new work. We've been piloting up the 101 corridor to fight the good fight on behalf of a local charity -- local to Sonoma County, not us. It's been 128 miles a day of driving and one failed vehical still up in a shop in Novato. Hence the delay this week.

Haven't heard the latest on the late "Island Faith-based Initiative" but did hear that the Mullah was getting together a weekend game of Twister Bingo among his congregation. Have to just imagine the scene of playing Twister in djelleba robes. Its either twice as fun or very very complicated.

The Catholic priest has returned to his daily clockwise peramulations about the block and the Lutheran Minister has returned to his counterclockwise rotations almost as if nothing ever happened between them.

Well, we do have churches and churchgoers on the Island, and its a source of constant shame among us decent beer drinkers, but we tend to tolerance here, like it or not.

In any case, we have done about as much damage as we can do this week, and all we can say is, that's just the way it is on the Island. Have a great week.

JANUARY 22, 2006

DEATH OF THE SAUSAGE KING

Stuart Alexander, who gunned down 3 meat inspectors at San Leandro linguisa factory as reported in these pages, died in San Quentin of coronary embolism. He was convicted of shooting the 3 inspectors on 6/21/2000 in a lurid episode within the sausage factory and spent much of his remaining time on earth in prison in tortured psychosis, refusing court-mandated medication and food.

BUT EVERYBODY CALLS HER NANCY

Found out the naturalist who works at the Crab Cove marine reserve, a really charming lady, who has delighted thousands of kids and other people at the facility located at the foot of McKay Avenue is named Nancy Krebs, which as any germanophile understands as Nancy Crab.

THERE IS NO DARK SIDE OF THE MOON; MATTER OF FACT, ITS ALL DARK

Have no recent updates from the Cole Cloren episode, due to sensitivity to the recent sentencing of his attackers and family concerns. As precis to date: Cole was attacked while sitting on the steps of Washington High School by a man who smashed a "razor scooter" against his temple as Cole rested with his head against the iron railings of the steps. Brought to Island Hospital and then to the Highland Trauma Center in deep coma, doctors did not expect him to live. Cole managed to fight his way out of coma to full consciousness, but has experienced severe consequences of the attack. It took him half a year to learn how to walk again and as of October of last year could barely read at a first grade level. It does appear that he will suffer effects for the rest of his life. His attacker was tried as an adult.

EVERYBODY DESERVES MUSIC

You so dread may smoke da ganga and get totally Rasta at the Bill Graham Civic 2/25 for an Irie tribute to Bob Marley, starting at 3 p.m. Michael Franti headlines with The Wailers and Misty in Roots among many bowing to the memory of a great master who brought us an entire musical artform from the Caribbean and abroad. Since informal tapes done by Bob were found by his son in the attic, not unlike the occasional lost and found Matisse, renewed interest in Reggae has swelled the charts.

Not on an embryonic journey, but traveling almost incognito, Jorma Kaukonen slips into the Great American Music Hall 2/2/06 on a general west coast tour that includes some laid back haunts as Santa Rosa up north.

In the ever hotter new venue called The Independent, we note the Greyboy Allstars on 2/1 and 2/2 followed by Bonnie Hayes with Robben Ford in attendance.

The Fillmore is drawing its breath the rest of this month until New Monsoon and Hot Buttered Rum amble in on Saturday, 2/4, with the exception of the red-blooded Willie Nelson, who takes over 1/24-1/26 with his famously battered Martin acoustic and a twang that is neither affected nor artificial. The Warfield will host G.Love and Special Sauce, which combo is beginning to garner a bit of notice. Then its back to the usual thrash and burn punkish Pennywise and No Use for a Name.

On the warmer side of the bay, Country Joe McDonald held forth at Freight and Salvage -- somewhat a smaller venue than the immense Woodstock Festival where CJM and the Fish held forth before 100,000 people. Maria Muldaur pleased crowds in her new incarnation as jazz-blues vocalist on the 21st. Highly anticipated is the young Eliza Gilkyson, who just keeps getting better and better with each new release. She owns 1/25 or Wednesday at the Freight. Be aware that seats probably will sell out.

The major event during this pre-season is the arrival of Coldplay. If you have to ask where or when, then tickets are gone already.

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

Some of you know that our day job features immersion in the latest and best of the computer world for office and factory. Its not a world ordinarily given to creativity, let alone a good deal of fun, especially when most of your efforts are on behalf of the Accounting Department.

Nevertheless, every once in a while, the nerds gotta have their fun. Sometimes it takes a stretch to appreciate and sometimes everybody gets a chuckle.

In the recent Langalist newsletter, we got directed to a really fun website which features "silicon artwork". Normally, the chips in your personal computer are designed and etched with pure functionality in mind, for much of the work then gets turned upside down and soldered to the motherboard, remaining entirely invisible for the life and afterlife of the unit.

With great delight, we find that some of the old school programmers who used to generate things like ASCII code images of potted orchids remain alive and well and their images become scribed into chips that just might be inside your own computer. The little catch here is that these images are only a few dozen microns wide and can only be "seen" by powerful electron microscopes such as only the most exclusive universities and corporate labs can afford.

Here, from the world inside your computer are a few examples pulled from http://micro.magnet.fsu.edu/creatures/index.html where a team of researchers spends their off hours collecting and cataloging such informal artwork submitted by engineers in the field who apparently have too much time on their hands.

Yes you could just go there and see everything unencumbered by our tired wits, but its not exactly a place you would find yourself by accident.

We found this wire-frame image of Daffy deeply embedded within the circuitry of a RISC microprocessor, about 1500 microns away from a similar-style rendition of Waldo. Daffy is about 50 microns in size, making it necessary to use a high-power (40X to 60X) microscope objective to photograph the wireframe character.

This beautiful cheetah was captured racing across the surface of a Hewlett-Packard memory controller integrated circuit. The chip was designed in combination with a very early HP-PA microprocessor that was code named Cheetah and used in the HP-900/750/755 series computers.

We caught this silicon Smurf pulling a wagon containing the copyright symbol around the pad ring on a Siemens integrated circuit of unknown function (the M879-A3). Like other Smurfs, this figurine was originally created by Belgian cartoonist Pierre Culliford (also known as Peyo), and introduced into the United States in the late 1970s. I Smurfs typically are blue, wear white hats, and stand three apples high. This guy goes against the grain with his orange skin and yellow hat. In addition, he is only about 60 micrometers high, more than 1000 times smaller than a single apple.

From the Scott Adams cartoon strip, we present this photomicrograph of cyber-engineer Dilbert, caught hiding from his demonic boss within the circuitry of a computer chip.

The photomicrograph above illustrates a wireframe rendition of Waldo found hiding on the surface of a microprocessor integrated circuit. Discovering this version of Waldo proved to be much more difficult than the one in the comics. We caught this silicon version of Waldo (that is about 30 microns in size) hiding among caches, buses, and registers while searching through many thousands of square microns of complex circuitry with a high-power optical microscope.

We spotted this Sperm whale swimming in a channel just off the Coast of RAM on an Allen-Bradley/Rockwell node adapter integrated circuit. This 85 micron-long polysilicon cetacean symbolizes the larger mammalian specimen that slammed into the planet Magrathea in Douglas Adams' "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" and shares space on the same chip with Don't Panic, the number 42, and the cricket wicket. Michael Philippi did the artwork and layout for this silicon doodle, and designer Bob Weppler, who provided us with this chip, engineered the onboard processor and firmware.

We found this unusual character smoking a cigar on the Weitek P-9000 graphics accelerator chip used to power many video cards in the early 1990s. The card was labeled "Fastest video on planet Earth" by Dell in a 1993 marketing campaign aimed at selling high-end 486 local bus computers and featured a whopping 8mb of RAM. The finders stated that "We don't understand what this image means . . .".

Historical etchings
Silicon artistry is a skill more than three decades old. The earliest known images in the Silicon Zoo are on Texas Instruments chips from the late 1960s or early 1970s, featuring a sailboat, the Apollo mission lunar lander and the U.S.S. Enterprise starship from the "Star Trek" TV series.

The most prolific practitioners of silicon artistry were at HP, in Davidson's opinion. "They had a competition going as to who could create the most complex art," he said.

Intel microchips, by contrast, have hardly any artwork. "The only thing we found was that shepherd on that dual-ported RAM controller," he said. In a visual-technical pun, the shepherd is overseeing a ram with two heads, symbolizing a chip that governs random access memory (RAM) with two communication channels.

Well, if you have to explain the joke . . . .

CLOSING DOORS AND TICKING CLOCKS

Well its been a quiet week on the Island. Pastor Morales has retreated to his clerestory-lit study, earnestly perusing the Lost Gospels of St. Joan while the rain pelted down in a provocation of further atmospheric misbehavior precluding long walks and such perambulations. Minister Svenquist also has withdrawn up into his garret, there to mull the austerity of his Lutheran position and that of the even more austere finances of the Island Abernathy Choir. What to do in this time when the Holidays have already passed and long is the time before Easter fund raising. Heavy and severe is the countenance of Minister Svenquist as he lays one sharp finger along the fierce line of his nose.

But as Friday segued with dissolving clouds into a dappled Saturday and a thoroughly blue-sky Sunday, the tides receded from the collapsed pathways along the Strand bringing out the joggers and strollers and all the folks blinking in the suddenly bright air and the Mullah was seen strolling along with nuns in tow with great enjoyment of all god's creation once again.

Mr. Howitzer emerged from his doorway down by Empire Way waving his cane in the air with his bowtie undone by exertion and shouting imprecations at Sally Mae who, sitting there in the office before her typewriter, had experienced an eruption.

Before talking about Sally's eruption, let us talk about her typewriter. The tool in question, was an IBM Selectric with a self-correction feature that had long been allowed to fall into disuse, for Mr. Howitzer refused to expend funds on the frivolity of such things as correction ribbons. The secretaries must type correctly or do it all over and that was that as far as Mr. Howitzer was concerned. Expenditures were devoted to significant and advanced business-related issues. Not for the likes of secretaries and their comfort and the failures due to incompetence. Incompetence was a sin which Mr. Howitzer would never forgive. And many were those who adhered to his philosophy. Including Mr. Tarkieff, who insisted on each visit upon absolutely clean copy. Free of powderpuff and facepaint.

The copy might have no sign of such marks to the objective observer, but Mr. Tarkieff held to the principle of effectiveness and absolutism over shilly shally and Sally suffered for it. As one can imagine. For well on ten years, as Sally had felt compelled to work for the firm of Friend, Howitzer, and Shelly for that long.

As Mr. Howitzer would lovingly extoll, you must work to pay for what you cannot afford so as to afford the credit that you overextend so as to pay the fees for what you must support so that you can work that much more. He really liked that speech and he would deliver it often on a Friday afternoon about five-thirty and would sometimes continue extempore some thirty minutes more past the departure of the Island ferry. He was quite the Republican and well respected among his kind in California.

Mr. Howitzer dearly loved his own words, perhaps even more than he loved his own money. This made him unusual among his kind.

Ah, but to return to Sally's typewriter, it was a simple IBM Selectric, commanded to print contracts, letters, agenda, minutes, missives to sundry mistresses, invitations to grand fetes, memos, budgets of every kind and description and much more for Sally must needs be adjutant, secretary, amanuensis, accountant, clerk, and galley slave to the extreme and all this for some ten years.

On this particular day, Sally happened upon the image in the mail -- she was commanded to sort and deliver mail among her duties -- of a leaping fish in the ad for a Mexican holiday in the Baja. It was one of those travel adverts about the delights of resort package vacations and such. What struck her was not the vivid blue of water, nor the excited and delighted face of the fisherman, nor the spume of the flung spray, but the image of the Dorado captured by artist photographer in mid leap as it fought for life. It seemed the photographer, perhaps some college-age artist making minimum wage, had focussed not on the fun loving sportsman, but upon the desperation and crispness and color of the Dorado, who appeared in gorgeous rainbow colors shot through with gold and incarnadine of the most vigorous shine.

This would have been the end of it, leaving perhaps only a vivid memory and the snapshot of a life from which she was forever excluded, for how on earth could anyone such as her enjoy a single minute of such a life in Mexico chasing the dolphin fish?

She was nothing. Mr. Howitzer often implied that. He never said such a thing, for saying such a thing outright would be considered gauche and perhaps illegal by some. She was not meant for interaction with complex personalities. Each to their station. It had all been laid out by Plato long ago. Everyone had their station. That was the opinion of Mr. Howitzer. And Mr. Tarkieff.

So she agreed so as to keep her job so that she could pay her credit fees that enabled her to continue to pay for the things that let her keep her job. It seemed to make sense.

But then the sun came through that Saturday and made a rainbow across her desk like the leap of the Dorado in the picture. The Dorado, you must know, is often called "the dolphin fish". Dolphins are mammals, like you and me and Sally Mae. They have brains almost like humans and can understand speech between each other, between humans and each other and between themselves and humans.

This itself is remarkable.

The fact that Sally Mae would connect the colors of a chance rainbow across her desk with the colors of a soon-to-die Dorado in a photograph is also remarkable. What is more remarkable than all these is what transpired next.

Mr. Howitzer requested in his usually demanding tones that Sally make another pot of coffee, for the previous one had gone sour.
That is not unusual. Bosses do this kind of thing all the time to their subservients in America, and they would express their intent using exactly the same words.

You and I might have delivered the message somewhat otherwise. You might have said, "Go to hell you big baboon! Take your coffee and shove it up where the sun don't shine."

We prefer to grant the reader the utmost of benefit and observance here.

We, in far cruder terms, would have said, "F--- off you G--d D---- Sh--Head!" But Sally was a daycent gal from Gallway and disinclined to vulgar language.

Sally Mae said, "Make your own damn coffee Mr. Howitzer. You are a big baby and I don't want to work for you any longer."

Now we come to the eruption. Sally Mae jumped up and Mr. Howitzer jumped up and Sally Mae, seeing the colors of the Dorado thrashing for its life down there in waters off Mexico imagined she was fighting for her own life and Mr. Howitzer, enraged at his coffee and things not going according to plan at all seeking to restore order by chunking a fit bigger than Hercules failed to accomplish his aims, as noble as they may appear. Sally Mae rushed out of that office knowing it was all over there, and at least she would get decent employment at a place where they used at least a word processor instead of a dead old IBM Selectric and where she would earn at least a little Respect, well she rushed out and never was seen again in those parts. Not ever again.

Mr. Howitzer rushed out as we first saw him with his cane and shouting and Tom from the Highway Patrol had to come in and calm the poor man down with brandy and an investigation. Tom left shaking his head and Mr. Howitzer has yet to obtain another hire the likes of Sally Mae, although the ad remains out to provoke the most recent hire and the investigation remains officially open, although it seems unlikely that there will be a resolution any time soon as the intent appears vague to the officials, and without criminal intent.

Other than these events, life has been quiet here on the Island. No word on what Harlan, the madman of Lincoln Street has to say about all of this.

That's just the way it is on the Island. Have a great week. And mind your chips.

JANUARY 29, 2006

GUNG HAY FAT CHOI

As all of you Sinophiles are aware, the Chinese New Year 4704 began today with firecrackers, feasting on gai bao, and distribution of hao tchien in little red envelopes. The celebration typically lasts some 15 days and culminates here in the grand parade through Chinatown over in Babylon across the water.

Legend has it that in ancient times, Buddha asked all the animals to meet him on Chinese New Year. Twelve came, and Buddha named a year after each one. He announced that the people born in each animal's year would have some of that animal's personality. Those born in dog years tend to be loyal, kind, and generous. They will work to right wrongs and are able to keep secrets. Bill Clinton, Shirley MacLain, Benjamin Franklin, and Jane Goodall -- and yours truly -- were all born in the year of the dog.

From the Chinese Cultural Center of SF we obtain the additional information, which is not usually included in the Dog traits: "But Dog People are somewhat selfish, terribly stubborn, and eccentric. They care little for wealth, yet somehow always seem to have money. They can be cold emotionally and sometimes distant at parties. They can find fault with many things and are noted for their sharp tongues. Dog people make good leaders. They are compatible with those born in the Years of the Horse, Tiger, and Rabbit.

In the astrological charts, we learn that people born in the year of the Pig or the Snake will experience luck and realization in romance leading to marriage. Not for the dog, however, who will see work projects come to fruition with diligent attitude. Bummer, dude. All work and no play, in other words.

For people born in the year of the dog, this is the year of fire and the Fire Dog. A match with the female who displays metal characteristics will be most fortuitous and the implication is of passion and great things accomplished. Time to take that metal casting class at the Crucible, you Dog, you?

The annual parade in Babylon will take place on 2/11/06 and will once again feature the largest handheld dragon in the world manipulated by teams of students from the Wushu Martial Arts Academy.

Understand that Zhonguo, or the Peoples Republic of China for you Loh Fan, has dropped its prohibition against the annual celebration, so we would expect that our distinction will not last long.

And if some angelic soul should hand you a red envelope the proper response is an enthusiastic :Shiyeh Shiyeh Ni!

Tzei-jian!

ROCKET MAN / WOMAN

Up the 101 Corridor there is a factory where they make etching tools for high tech chips, such as Intel, IBM and NASA may employ in their work. Its an aseptic place where every speck of dust is a potential threat to the Class 10 cleanrooms where silicon wafers are etched with powerful acids under rigorous conditions and carefully filtered air. Among the memorabilia on the old walls in the admin section there hangs a portrait of a pretty woman with flowing auburn hair that tumbles over the collar of a pressurized high altitude flight suit. Probably half a hundred of these were made and distributed all around the country to assorted vendors and research teams. The dedication of this obvious promo photo is done with a sharpie and it says simply, "Love to all of you, Christa McAuliffe".

Such is the memento of the brilliant arc of a life that exploded high in the air, along with the lives of six other companions. This Saturday marked the tenth anniversary of the 1986 disaster in which the space shuttle, Challenger, lifted off from a launch pad in Florida and blew apart 73 seconds later in a horrifying display of flames broadcast realtime across the nation on TV.

On Saturday, 250 people joined a ceremony at Kennedy Space Center to honor Scobee, pilot Mike Smith, astronauts Ellison Onizuka, Judy Resnik, Ron McNair and Greg Jarvis, and Christa McAuliffe, who was supposed to be the first teacher in space.

June Scobee Rodgers, whose husband Dick Scobee was the shuttle's commander, along with NASA associate administrator Bill Gerstenmaier, laid the wreath at the base of the Space Mirror Memorial, a tall granite-finished wall engraved with the names of the Challenger astronauts, the seven astronauts killed when space shuttle Columbia disintegrated over Texas in 2003 and the three Apollo 1 astronauts killed in a fire during a 1967 launch pad test.

The investigation into the Challenger accident revealed a space agency more concerned with schedules and public relations than with safety and sound decision-making.

The explosion eventually was blamed on a poorly designed gasket in one of the shuttle's solid fuel boosters which hardened in cold weather. The temperature at Challenger's liftoff was 36 degrees. Engineers for a NASA contractor had protested launching at that temperature, but they were overruled by their managers under perceived pressure from the space agency.

Rodgers said the Challenger accident hadn't changed her opinion about the importance of space exploration.

"Without risk, there's no discovery, there's no new knowledge, there's no bold adventure", Rodgers said. "The greatest risk is to take no risk."

PLAYING WITH THE QUEEN OF HEARTS; YOU KNOW IT AINT SMART

Money magazine and Kiplinger's Report are not exactly titillating sources of rambunctious laughter, but its our business here to keep track of the news and the media as it is. Recently we glommed onto a precious Most whatever of the year in the form of CNN's Money report on "The 101 dumbest things in 2005". Frankly we didn't think that those folks had that much self-awareness, or any punk attitude at all, but it does seem that we live in unusual times.

From CNN Money 101 dumbest things in 2005

Winner, Dumbest Moment, Outsourcing

Blaming a mailing-list vendor for providing bad information, JPMorgan Chase apologizes for sending a form letter about its credit card services to an Arab American man in California addressed to "Palestinian Bomber."

Winner, Dumbest Moment, Marketing

Just suffice it to say that the literal translation of the Spanish word cajeta is "little box."

With the help of Latin pop sensation Thalia Sodi, Hershey introduces Cajeta Elegancita, a new candy bar for the Hispanic market. Though the wrapper features a picture of Sodi, apparently she neglects to fill her Yanqui partners in on a subtlety of Spanish: In Mexico, "cajeta" can be used to mean "nougat." Elsewhere in the Spanish-speaking world, however, it's slang for female anatomy.

52. And how much to have the record labels not sue them?

In January, members of the Recording Industry Association of America sue Gertrude Walton, a Mount Hope, W.V., resident who had died nearly two months earlier. The lawsuit, Walton's daughter says, comes despite her having sent copies of the death certificate to the label's lawyers.

101. Little Big Man

In September, as the result of a typo in a spreadsheet, Electronic Arts issues an update to Madden NFL 06 that reduces 6-foot-3, 305-pound New York Jets lineman Michael King to a height of 7 inches. The next day, EA fixes the bug -- to a chorus of complaints from customers who enjoyed watching the shin-high blocker get steamrollered by full-size players such as seven-time All-Pro linebacker Derrick Brooks of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

40. Just google him. We hear it really ticks him off.

"F---ing Eric Schmidt is a f---ing pussy. I'm going to f---ing bury that guy, I have done it before and I will do it again. I'm going to f---ing kill Google."

-- Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer, in response to the departure of Mark Lucovsky, a former Microsoft "distinguished engineer" who left last year to work at Google. The alleged aria, punctuated by the tossing of a chair, was cited in a sworn statement by Lucovsky that became public during court hearings over another Microsoft-to-Google defection in September. Microsoft denies Lucovsky's version of the incident.

41. If that's what you mean by f---ing killing someone, would you mind f---ing killing us next?

In February, Microsoft unveils a new version of MSN search, developed at a cost of $100 million, in an attempt to take market share from Google. MSN's share of Internet search traffic promptly drops by a full percentage point.

Grand Prize Winner, Dumbest Moment of 2005

"If you grew up in Danvers, and you remember it as the spooky place on the hill, it might not be the right place to live."

William McLaughlin, an executive with AvalonBay Communities, which is converting boarded-up Massachusetts mental institution Danvers State Hospital into a 497-unit complex of high-end apartments and condos. That sound you hear? Not the ghosts of mental patients, but loud hissing from the wildly inflated housing bubble.

As an addendum to the last item and as a possible competitor for the Dumbest Real Estate Move In 2005, we note the recent ads that promote the Bay Area's Premier Development in Exclusive Living in the form of the recently opened Mare Island development. Mare Island, as any long term resident here will note, was a notorious shiprepair facility which dumped tons of toxic sludge into the ground with not a report or sign. In conversation with a former navy shipyard worker there, we gleefully report the following statement:

"Oh yeah, we would scour the plates from the LV's by propping them up on a scaffold and blasting them with a pressure hose pumping sulfuric acid and sand. Just let that slurry fall off with all the noxious paint sludge and we would push it into a hole. Go on for the next plate any old place. Must have poisoned the ground for yards in all directions. The whole island is like that. Lead from old batteries, paint from ships, barrels of PCB oil, vats of benzenes -- heck, nobody hassled us about keeping track. We just would dig a hole and dump it all in. Figured the Navy would always own it and nobody would be so stupid as to actually build here".

It's all okay. Just don't let your kid play outside; he might dig up something really, really bad for everybody.

WHAT'S GOING ON

Some excitement happened a block from the Island-Life offices as reported by Peter Hegarty.

Two men are in custody as police investigate what led to a confrontation on St. Charles Street on Tuesday afternoon that resulted in gunfire striking three vehicles.

"It's a miracle no one was hit because it was a running gun battle on the street," Alameda police Lt. David Boersma said.

Investigators recovered .9 millimeter and .22 caliber shell casings at the scene and said that up to 11 shots were fired.

About 10 young men are believed to have been present during the shooting, which investigators think stemmed from an altercation between two men several weeks ago either in north Oakland or at the Esperanza affordable housing complex in Alameda.

Police also think one of the gunmen came to the 1800 block of St. Charles with his friends in a bid to settle the dispute.

Also reported was the failure to find the guns used during the gunbattle. Toddlers beware.

PRAISE THE LORD AND PASS THE MEAT / TIME FOR DINNER NOW; LET'S GO EAT

Did the fine dining thing the other day after fighting to install and setup somebody's new Sirius satellite radio. Be known that the workmanship in the speaker "boom" box is fairly shoddy, although the signal is as good as can be and one can enjoy Howard Stern's peculiar form of scatological humor with no fear of commercials. The locking mechanism between the radio and the speakers is a sure design to fail in a year or so, and the power jack needs a bic lighter jammed in there to hold the cord from the brand new power brick (about as heavy and large as a brick in truth) in place.

PAPPO ON THE ISLAND

Went to Pappo on Central Avenue on the Island. Pappo serves up your basic California Cuisine in the usual sparse portions in which presentation is the highlight of the plate. We had the braised lamb, which came with four cubettes of meat set about the periphery of a mound of couscous and sauteed veggies. The lamb was tender, but not distinctive enough to warrant the prices as the brown sauce was essentially no different than any other au jus for prime rib or tri-tip. The delicious goat-cheese and spring greens salad with honeyed walnuts was another order entirely, and really represented the sort of thing "California Cuisine" strives for. Fresh, crisp greens ornamented with sprigs of red pepper, chunks of fragrant goat cheese and drizzled with a modestly tangy vinaigrette made us wish for another plate of the same. My companion had a delicious cream of mushroom soup with her standard Caesar salad, and the soups at Pappo are really what brings them in, for the chef uses only the freshest ingredients in season. The winter squash soup was no longer to be had, but you should mark you calendar for that item next year.

KOH SAMUI AND THE MONKEY IN BABYLON

In a literary evening discussed the merits of the latest WIP and the consequences of the recent elections in Palestine over Korean plates in The City. Koh Samui is known as a lunch spot, but the place was packed Thursday evening for the Chef's original take on the dishes of his land. Forgoing the straightforward approach of BBQ and Pad Thai, this venue does a seafood "claypot" and assorted curries with a leaning to the west. West of Thailand, so to speak. The red chicken curry we had was subtly spicy in a way that some places just cannot figure out. The flavors of meat and veggies were allowed to sift through the sauce which did not bludgeon the palate.

Their specialty here is seafood and the "claypot" appeared to be well stocked, with its contents dished into a pewter tray. Their specialty is a crushed scallops dish which has been highly reviewed.

Tea is served in thimble-sized cups grasped by elephant miniatures, which are substantially useless for wetting the throat, but possessed of much charm. Better to order a beer if you want fluids.

IF IT KEEPS ON RAINING, THE LEVEE'S GONNA BREAK

A correspondent from far off Louisiana sent in some pix of the approaching edge of the hurricane Katrina as the stormfront curved over the wide savannah flats a year ago. These pictures need no commentary to heighten their power.

I FEEL LIKE I AM LOOKING AT THE WORLD FROM THE BOTTOM OF A WELL

It's been a quiet week on the Island. The Governator was here at Southshore to promote his latest attempt to recover politically from his recent electoral debacle. This time he was flogging a medical bill that tries to fix the problems caused by the federal fiasco over pharma benefits. Basically, the bill recognizes the federal system, as promoted by GBW, is essentially broken and requires state assistance to help the monster over the obstacles imposed.

When asked why Gov. Arnold would come to the Island to sign this bill, he responded, "Well, I haf neffer been here, undt eet iss fery curious place. Ja."

The bill is a bipartisan effort to cover prescriptions for the disabled and poor who are caught in the glitches of the disastrous Medicare drug plan that was touted by the Presidential Administration as a final fix only a year ago. Arnold has abandoned his hard-line extremist positions in support of the Neo-Cons and has swung back to Center after his recent elections debacle. Well, well, lets just wait and see what happens next. Even Der Gropenator deserves a second chance.

Report from one of our traveling correspondents is that the recent Eliza Gilkyson show at the Freight and Salvage was a barn burning stomping fest.

There is no word back on the missing parrot from Petco, but we plan a swing by on Monday to hold the pulse. By now, the bird would have died, as the immature fowl native to Brazil required hourly feeding of a special formula.

Well, the dark night has fallen and the trains are echoing across the estuary from Jack London once more. Mike Powers is winding up the Sunday Night Jam ("Medication time! Medication time!") and Jake is about to take over for the midnight House of Blues Radio Hour ("Sponsored by the one and only Louisiana Hot Sauce. Look for the red dot on the bottle."

Just got word that tix are in the pocket for the Jorma Kaukonen visit to the Great American Music Hall. Yo, dudes, I am sooo stoked! We love music 'cause wherever there is music there is life. In fact, that may be the only life there is.

And that's the way it is on the Island, this drizzly evening. Have a great week.

FEBRUARY 4, 2006

STATE OF THE ONION SPEECH

Eugene Shrubb and all the bums got together for the eagerly awaited annual State of the Onion speech Monday evening. It was expected that President Shrubb would focus upon the highlights of his Presidency and avoid the pratfalls which have characterized his administration. Unfortunately, there have been few highlights for the Shrubb Presidency, from the disaster of the Invasion, the failed Social Security reform, the fiasco of Medicare RX reform, the dismal economy, the wrecked education initiative called No Child Left Undone, the energy debacle, the lapse in support for Africa, the drop-out of AIDS/HIV research, the increasing belligerence of Hayward who threaten to establish a nuclear program, bird flu pandemic, California flu A & B, an increasingly divided nation, illegal spying on private citizens, authorized policies endorcing reprehensible methods of torture, concentration camps, massive scandals roping in hundreds of members of his political party who lobbyists curried favor with, severe violations of ethical and moral principals among a few other things.

On the plus side, the President mentioned that he is now thinking about energy conservation and really likes killing terriers.

By the light of burning trashcan fires, the Assembly of the Bums, the most impressive legislative body in the Free World, issued stupendous applause at remarks by the President -- significantly by halves. The other half applauded when the President stumbled on ascending the dias and when he briefly choked upon a pretzle.

"I'm a uniter, not a divider," said the President, and half of the assembly applauded, while half stared down dejectedly at their shoes.

"The world is a safer place due to my Administration, " the President said.

"No it isn't," some wag said. "Look at Norway. Just about the most inoffensive place on earth. Their embassy gets torched over a set of cartoons published by their neighbor. What are you doing about this situation?"

"We have identified the problem," said the President. "And we are working steadily towards a solution that involves spreading democracy and free elections throughout the Middle East. Free elections will ensure that discontent dissolves and love of America will ensue."

"Is this another Wolfowitz idea?" someone asked. "That guy is an idiot."

"They freely elected a bunch of murderous radicals who want to kill all of us. That idea does not work. What are you doing about this?" someone else rudely asked.

The President then went on to talk about the state of the State Onion, small and odiferious it remains under care of his Administration. The Onion shall thrive and we shall prevail if we stay the course. Running governments is hard work. Anyone who disagrees will be spied upon and driven mad. They are traitors in any case. If Pat Robertson calls, take a message. Thus ends the State of the Onion Address for 2006.

In keeping with tradition, the President waved a bottle of Tokay of recent vintage before toppling backwards from his porcelein throne into the pile of old tires prepared for that purpose.

NOW THE TIME HAS COME TO PAUSE

Caught Jorma Kaukonen on his latest swing-by in the Golden State. He appeared at the Great America Music Hall with Barry Mitterhoff. There was some confusion in booking these tix from the 3rd party vendors who failed to clearly outline what was different about the seating arrangements. Long time attendees to the GAMH know that first come is first served at the irregularly spaced ground floor tables and the balcony lines. This time the venue had front "row" seats reserved for those who had bought dinner tickets at a special price. Now dinner at the GAMH has always been nachos, cheeseburgers and cheesesteaks of no special distinction, so this issue confused a large number of people.

That said, we managed to squeeze in at balcony level for a show that turned out to be characterized by nuance and delicacy of playing with attention to dynamics more than we have seen previously from Jorma shows. Or it may be that the intimate quality of the small hall, packed as it was, allowed for the sound to come forth where it had been lost before. Jorma's flourishes, rolls, harmonics, and deft changes rang out clear as, well, clear as silver, sound as gold.

He is more evidently than ever before at the top of his game in terms of musicality, even though he might not command stadiums of 40,000 seats or more as he once did under the Jefferson Starship. But Kaukonen, ex-student of Rev. Gary Davis, is a musician more invested in musicality than grandstanding. Here is the setlist he played that night with Barry Mitterhoff.

1. Blue Railroad Train
2. How Long Blues
3. I’ll Let You Know Before I Leave
4. Parchman Farm
5. Keep your Lamps Trimmed And Burning
6. Serpent Of Dreams
7. Heart Temporary
8. Prohibition Blues
9. Preaching On the Old Camp Grounds
10. Hesitation Blues
11. That’ll Never Happen No More

Set Two
1. Big River Blues
2. I Know You Rider
3. I’m Free From The Chain Gang Now
4. Death Don’t Have No Mercy
5. I See The Light
6. More Than My Old Guitar
7. Bread Line Blues
8. Come Back Baby
9. Embryonic Journey
10. Good Shepherd
11. Genesis
12. I’ll Be All Right Some Day
13. A Life Well Lived
14. Just Because
15. Encore: 9 Pound Hammer

Barry Mitterhoff, it should be mentioned, is an unassuming genius. We saw him play two forms of the mandolin, an achingly beautiful Gibson f-hole 4-string tenor guitar with gorgeous sunburst motif, banjo and any one of these instruments he could have played rings around any number of self-indulgent "ax-men" endowed with thousands of dollars of specially-made flying-V Fenders. What the man can do humbly on the traditional mandolin puts most guitarists to shame.

He and Jorma traded solos and licks back and forth with evident and mutual delight, which is really the high point of watching a solid collaboration in music.

Kaukonen's version of Reverend Davis' "How Long Blues" started out pretty much note for note just how the old master used to play it, but segued into his own interpretation with its trimmed-down lyrics. His culls from his Grammy-nominated "Blue Country Heart" were pretty much straight-forward replays, including his own interpretation of "Big River Blues" with its curious Cm inclusion on the windup. On this go-around, as we have felt in recent years, is a strong sense of taking a long goodbye to life, with particular attention to paying due respect to those who have gone before. We have a strong sense of Jorma standing at the edge of some chasm looking back at a long life that has been full of more than its share of troubles, seen more than its share of horror, and now is turning to look at crossing that last river Jordan to the other shore.

Of course there is stronger sense of depth in a man approaching seventy who performs "Death Don't have No Mercy" than in a twenty-year old. Still, its interesting to note that his encore piece is the vibrant "9 Pound Hammer", with its defiant "That 9 pound hammer that killed John Henry aint gonna kill me! No, no."

We have seen him deal with hecklers a bit abruptly, but he humorously tolerated the yahoos who continuously yelled for "Genesis", which is a lovely song of course, but easily learned by any beginner in about an hour. Really, you can pick up a guitar and learn the song yourself and so stop asking the man to repeat himself. Which is something most musicans really really hate.

For a man who has written some of the songs that are the basic building blocks for American Music in the last century, we would hope that this survival sentiment holds forth for a long time to come. If Jorma Kaukonen happens to be in his "golden years" we hope that gold may continue to shine for many more. As a two-part standing unanimous ovation Thursday night at the Great American Music Hall indicated, so many others wish it so.

LOST AIRMAN IDENTIFIED

63 years later, Leo Mustonen finally returned home from his WWII training mission. Long time readers of this space will recall that the remains of an aviator wearing a vintage WWII flight uniform were found not 200 yards laterally from our usual crossover point in the Sierra Nevada backcountry. Of course he was another 3,000 feet straight up from the near point, but that is a minor detail.

In October, climbers of Mount Mendel found the body and reported this discovery to officials. The plane went down November 18, 1942 at some distance from its assigned flight plan, and fragments of the fusilage were found in 1947, but no bodies. The altitude is some 13,800 feet and the area in Kings Canyon Nation Park is not easy to access. Harsh weather conditions prevented further attempts at recovery. From experience we can say there is really a window of only a couple months in which one can enter this area and even then one can encounter storms with such ferocity that animal behavior in the area becomes quite deranged down to even the insects in the pre-storm period.

His injuries, according to the forensics report, included multiple bone fractures, implying that his death was near instantaneous at high altitude. His surviving relatives live in Minneapolis and Florida, but his final resting place will be next to his mother and father in Brainerd, Pennsylvania.

We know that there is another crash site near Lake Martha on the slopes of Mount Goddard, where we have been aiming for some time. Leo, if one of your friends is out there, we will find them.

WRECK ON THE HIWAY

Was delighted to hear the Tappet brothers regretfully agree for the first time in a long time about a particular subject having to do with cars. For those who cannot or for some inconcievable reason choose not to, pull in NPR on the radio at 88.5 on Sunday, the Tappet brothers hold forth for an hour that is more raucous and entertaining than one can imagine as they field calls from all over the country about every possible trouble with cars of every make and model. To our astonishment, we found that between the two of them, they have absorbed the essential details about every car made anywhere in the world for every year going back to 1925 right up to the present.

This, my friends, is quite a lot of knowledge, especially as the two guys pretend to be nothing more than two regular yoyos drinking beer and spending their free time hunting down junk food. We have heard them give the most detailed explanations for the most obscure phenomena, contradicting a wide variety of dealership and garage reports, only to have the caller call back next week only to say, "You were absolutely right. The dealership fibbed and that "weep, weep" sound was the smokeshifter attachment, just as you said."

All right, lets not praise the fellows too much, for then they could rightfully demand more money, which would inevitably shunt them off to Sirius Satellite radio.

The point here is that the two guys fielded a call from a guy living in Georgia who wanted to know how to convince his wife not to buy the SUV she had her sights set on. The fellow stated that he hates even the idea of SUVs and so was in need of help.

Now, these guys often get these marital disagreement things, when either the wife or the husband calls for their own particular validation, so this kind of thing is not unusual for the brothers, who respond unfailingly on the side of the real-world issues involving the automobile, rather than the relationship.

To our astonishment, both brothers agreed with the man from Georgia, in that SUVs are and always have been bad ideas. Not for their poor gas mileage, as one would have thought. Their opinion is that the high undercarriage obscures line of sight for everyone else. Which has resulted in the phenomenon of people buying SUVs simply to be able to see when they drive, whether an SUV is appropriate or not for their situation. When everyone is driving SUVs, which is becoming a reality now, the advantage of superior weight in a crash is totally negated and in fact becomes a liability, for now the crash numbers become factors of the combined weights of both vehicals.

In addition, the Tappet brothers noted that SUVs promote bad driving, with inattention and courtesy failures becoming more common. A look at mortality figures confirms their assertion. Over half of all fatalities for the past three years involved drivers of the "light truck and SUV" category. Of 48,000 traffic deaths last year, for example, well over 24,000 fell into this category with all the rest divided up among the vast number of other vehicles on the road, including motorcycles, pedestrians, mopeds, mini-vans, sedans, sportscars, half-tracks, ATVs, hybrids, luxury cars, buses, subcompacts, station wagons, and everything besides.

You say you drive an SUV because you think it is safer? NO, ITS NOT! YOU ARE ROLLING THE DICE YOU ASSHOLE! And you are making life more difficult for the rest of us.

As a personal observation, please note that we typically may drive well over 4,000 miles per month just getting to work sites distributed anywhere from San Jose to Santa Rosa. We see serious accidents all the time on the 101 corridor. Guess what the vast majority of these vehicals happen to be: SUVs. You see, the height of the vehical typically results in worse instability than a motorcyle under severe conditions. Added to this is the fact that the body is almost always independent of the suspension so as to create a "comfortable ride". Well, Caddilacs are made this way, but the Caddy is built low to the ground. Under severe braking, the upper cabin of an SUV begins to occillate wildly from side to side causing the undercarriage to adapte by countersteering. The effects can be seen by the fifty-yard skid marks which always have a snake's trail look to them. While rollovers are common among this vehicle type, even more common is the total loss of control due to this shaking in which no change of steering will help.

And of course, because SUV drivers feel they have purchased security in the form of a tank-like vehical, they become inattentive to basic precautions. Let me tell you, nothing is sadder than seeing the starred windshield of an otherwise intact SUV as the EMTs strap up the body of a small child that has flown with projective force against that glass. Its one of the few instances when a battle-scarred EMT can tear up. I have known a few and believe me, this is true.

I say, ban the SUV. Get rid of them. They have outlived their usefulness; heck, they were never useful to begin with. Nobody needs 300 HP to drive 2 miles to the market to pickup milk and eggs. We are already fighting wars over oil supplies. There is no god damned reason that anyone should be driving a vehical that pretends to get anything less than 40 miles per gallon and that is just a start. These 12 miles per gallon monstrosities must be destroyed ASAP and their owners punished.

SIT BACK AND RIDE THE VIBES

Another week starting up and the Sunday Night Jam cranking up with the usual suspects and assorted mayhem arranged by Mike Powers. It's been a quiet week on the Island. Karen Jinete laid out a bed of cedar chips a while ago and it does appear some green shoots are firing up there from the bed. The Peru beans are flowering and some eruptions appear to be happening in the weed fest that also houses the freesia bulbs. Yes, something seems to be going on down there.

The final holdouts are recovering from the flu which has knocked all of us flat at various times. Rumor has it Pittsburg Steelers robbed Seattle at the Pooper Soul. Well, if Oaktown didn't go, it was not much important anyhoo.

This weekend saw the sun emerge for the first time in eight days and all the joggers were out enjoying the mild weather. Note that various holes in the yard mark where the ground squirrels have come to retrieve their in-between hibernation snacks. Hear that granddaddy racoon has been rifling the leftovers for the cats way across the island. In other parts of the country, we hear lower than usual snow pack reports. No word as yet from the ski slopes here, but all this wet stuff has to have made some difference up there where they found Leo Mustonen. This night, all is silent across the island. A wind kicked up around dusk but it is all still now.

That's the way it is on the Island. Have a great week.

FEBRUARY 12, 2006

PARADISE BY THE DASHBOARD LIGHT

Tuesday is the candied day of hearts and flowers, but many took the balmy weather and clear skies this weekend as an opportunity to engage in fol de rol and welcome spring. Where other parts of the country just enjoyed crushing blizzards, with New York taking 24 inches of powder in as many hours, here the sun shone merrily on bathers out by the Strand. Knots of people could be seen fifty yards out standing on the broad shallow "shelf" that edges the beach here. Blades of green are firing up through neighbor Karen's mulch, the Peru beans are flowering and freesias have started to erupt in yellow explosions in competition with the clambering jasmine along the old fence. Something is definitely going on down there.

Forget that East Coaster, Puxatawney Phil, who saw his shadow recently and rushed back into his burrow. Out here, we are sick of precipitation and wet winds.

I have to admit we've wanted to use the above image for years. Get set for a real BIG issue this week with tons of stuff. Lots of news and reviews and all sorts of nervous jumping up and down, because, you must know, we do it all for Love. Yes, dear Reader, we do it all for love of you. It's not like Blogs are cash cows, guy.

Etienne de Rocher is doing Cafe du Nord Tuesday. De Rocher has a nice little ditty called "Bamo Bino Goodbye" which has been on heavy rotation with Mike Powers, and is kind of a stud-muffin. The Great American Music Hall will have Live 105 hosting The Lovemakers, who will move across town to Slims for a gig the following night. Heard Bob Mould played there Saturday, but have not heard anything else about how it went. This year's version of My Sucky Valentine happens at the 540 Club at 540 Clement where the sour and broken hearted will gather for an evening of tattoo art making the loud statement "Love Sucks".

Derek Trucks was in town at the INdependent. News has it he has accepted a gig to work with Eric Clapton and this is a done deal.

And no comments from any of you about Wednesday being "hump day."

In related news we have snippits of a guaranteed blockbuster hit scheduled to be outed this summer titled "Broke Butt Mountain", which concerns the forbidden love between two Texan cowboys. A fragment was broadcast on this week's Prarie Home Companion from Morris, MN.

GEORGE: Ah, come stand a little closer. You don't hafta be on the other side of the desk that way.
DICK: You know, ever since we discovered this about ourselves, I have felt such feelin's. Some days, my heart feels so . . . flighty.
GEORGE: I love it when you hold my hand, Dick. Ever since the first Inauguration its been quite a ride . . .".
DICK: But we cannot show our feelin's for one another. It's so unfair!
GEORGE: I know Dick. But you know as well as I do we must stay the course. . . .

Broke Butt Mountain, a tender love story about two cowboys from Texas, trying to conceal their feelings for one another while still trying to rule the Free World. You know some things will just never turn out happily. In theatres near you.

All right, that's enough love now.

NEW TIMES

Must be the Flaming Lips coming to play in the Bimbos 365 Club March 27th. Underneath we have a lot of local news snippits. Well, its a small town, so is the news.

WOMAN ON THE VERGE

Got an item over the wire on Friday morning which is another one of those "there is a lot more to this story" kinds of things. Alameda County Sheriff's office responded to a call at 1:40 a.m. in which a man claimed that his wife had become suicidal and was in possession of a shotgun.

The officers found the distraught husband outside his Hayward home on Meekland Avenue. The man told them that the woman had several firearms at her disposal, including "many high-powered rifles." As the officers arrive, the woman discharged one of the guns, effectively putting everyone at bay for several hours. Officials eventually contacted her via telephone when she refused to come out of the house.

The Special Response Team and Crisis Intervention Unit failed to convince the woman to exit the home, who threatened to shoot anyone who came to the door. "Chemical agents" were employed to disable her and the Tac Squad entered to arrest the woman and confiscate several guns sometime after nine in the morning.

Five neighboring families, evacuated during this episode, were allowed then to return.

We just want to know that this couple never had any kids.

TENDERNESS ON THE BLOCK

Legacy Partners is in escrow to buy the sprawling Marina Village in Alameda from Vintage Properties for a reported $191 million - considered an "aggressive price" by brokers. Closing date is this month.

Cornish & Carey Commercial/Oncor International is handling the deal for Vintage Properties, which has owned the 205-acre park since 1977. Cornish & Carey brokers would not comment on the deal.

Legacy Partners, based in Foster City, has developed and owned both commercial and residential real estate for nearly 40 years. Its portfolio, currently valued at $4.7 billion, includes the 10-acre Regatta Business Center in Richmond. Legacy has owned property in Alameda in the past, so the company knows the market.

Yet the 1.2 million-square-foot Marina Village is struggling with a vacancy rate of nearly 30 percent - the highest for any market in the East Bay, along with Richmond. Clearly Legacy Partners views the high rate as an opportunity, rather than a problem, according to sources in the brokerage community.

The property consists of the Marina Village mini-shopping center with an Albertsons and a large Lucky's anchoring the prime spots, as well as an industrial park supporting dozens of single-level buildings which have supported a variety of dot-com and standard businesses.

"Given the vacancy, the purchase price suggests that the new owner intends to compete and attract tenants with rental rates that are competitive with downtown Oakland," said Michael Speers, an investment broker with NAI BT Commercial.

WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID?

The latest big news is that Albertsons, no doubt pressured locally by the recent massive expansion of Safeway, the new Trader Joes, the existence of a second Albertsons at Marina Village, and the planned construction of yet another grocery store in the long disputed mini-mall over by Blanding, has decided to cut and run.

Southshore Mall, now renamed Towne Centre (spelled just like that, kid you not) is going through a number of upscaling changes involving some heavy construction all along the side fronting the main drag there on Otis. The next big change will be the tripling of the size of the existing Walgreens into the area that once was inhabited by the only gas station down at this end of the Island.

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

After the sequence of fatalities out at the Grand Street boat landing, City Officials finally got around to placing barricades across the street there. CHP is coming in to aid with an investigation as to just why people keep dying out there. In the latest case, a Dr. Zehra Attari went missing for weeks until somebody thought to look for her Camry on the bottom of the estuary. In another case, a couple of construction workers went missing, also for weeks, when their car was found some 100 feet out in the middle, indicated it had left the landing at a very high rate of speed . Previously, there was a blinking red light and a sign saying "End" to warn people that Grand Street was indeed physically ending. Relatives and friends of the much beloved Dr. Attari are pushing the investigation.

IN STARK CONTRAST

Some of you living in other parts of the world might not get Pete Stark's 2006 Congressional Survey Results. Rep. Stark handles our neck of the woods in the House of Representatives, and he is marked by a strong committment to getting out to listen to every constituent who has a desire to speak his or her mind. Part of this process is an annual poll of the electorate in his district and the results can be found at WWW.house.gov/stark, and below.

Should the US withdraw our troops from Iraq?

44% YES, but gradually, with a firm date of completion
31% YES, start immediately
25% NO, not until we have a stable democracy in Iraq
______________________________________________________

Do you feel the US is safer as a result of the Patriot Act?

70% NO
30% YES
______________________________________________________

Do you think guest workers should be able to earn citizenship through programs now being debated in Congress?

50% YES
50% NO
______________________________________________________

If you are a beneficiary (of Medicare) have you enrolled in a new Medicare drug plan?

19% NO
6% YES
75% Not Applicable (i.e., beneficiary not taking RX)
______________________________________________________

If you did not sign up, why?

41% Have RX coverage through former or current employer
38% Other
11% Array of choices too confusing
10% Benefit not worth the cost
______________________________________________________

Do you support the following Constitutional Amendment(s)?

Guarantee right to health care
76% YES
24% NO

Prohibit gay marriage
68% NO
32% YES

Guarantee a woman's right to choose (abortion)
81% YES
19% NO

Abolish the electoral college
69% YES
31% NO

Prohibit flag burning
57% YES
43% NO

Guarantee the right to vote (at present states can conditionally revoke this right)
90% YES
10% NO
_____________________________________________________

What's the best way to handle the alarming energy situation?

49% Invest in alternative sources
27% Reqire higher MPG standards for all cars
13% Invest in more nuclear energy power plants
11% Open the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge

Those are the numbers from a basically moderately liberal to conservative district in California. This area does not include Berkeley or any areas considered to be extreme by conservatives or liberals.

You can email Rep. Stark at petermail@mail.house.gov or you can call his office at 510-494-1388.

PROUD CITY FATHERS WATCHED THEM AS THEY MARCHED OFF TO DIE

(The above caption is from the late Chris Whitely's "War Crime Blues".)

Things are about to get very interesting here on our little Island, for a unanimous collection of presenters convinced the Council to place for discussion at the next meeting regarding a "resolution calling upon steps to withdraw our Reservists, Coast Guard Units and members of the California National Guard troops from Iraq". Councilmember Matarrese presented the resolution. Island-life and staff attended this meeting which went well past 11:00 pm (beginning at 7:30pm), and we must say we were very impressed with the conduct of the council members during what is for most cities a rather mundane and pro forma procedure that seldom extends into the next day. After all, a previous meeting of the Council had occured at 5:30, virtually ensuring that not a single member of the Council got a meal break, or a break of any king, from noon until adjournment.

We would advise just about any American residing in any incorporated section to attend at least once a meeting like this, for the attendee may be quite enlightened as to how serious the elected officials happen to be. And just what they must go through just to do their jobs.

That is another discussion. We attended as part of a Code Pink effort to generally convince local governments to pull back resources dedicated to this horrendous war. All over the country, groups of people have come into astonished City Council meetings to request initiatives and referendums asking that the locally-based forces of the National Guard and Reserve be returned to do the jobs they were trained to do, with particular attention paid to the way that the absence of Reserve and NG units, as well as their equipment, caused untold suffering in the Gulf Coast disaster areas. This is a never-before-seen effort of historic significance, for these units are supposed to be present here for fighting fires, shoring levees, and otherwise defending the homefront, not squandered on foreign soil as they are now.

Councilmember Matarrese commented that we have the Hayward fault as a general certainty and the ballooning deficit, already causing pain here, as another and succinctly connected the deficit to the exhorbitant costs of the war. We had just spent four hours debating how to fix the streets by delving into savings reserved for disaster at the dire warnings of the City Auditor. And this city is better off than most.

The Island has particular interest in this area, as we reside within Severe Damage Zone of the Anytime Expected Hayward Fault Zone. This means, we expect anytime within our lifetimes a severe earthquake that will result in total disruption of ALL TRANSIT and ALL TELECOMMUNICATIONS. In addition, we have within view the Port of Oakland, the third largest port in the world. Definitely a target for terrorists. And where is the Coast Guard? Sent to Iraq to demine the harbors there.

And over all this, the terrible images of an abandoned New Orleans with bodies left to rot in the streets for lack of efforts.

Come to us next month -- we will report the date when known -- for an historic meeting and an expected vigorous and impassioned debate in what has been called "the most average town in America". You will be able to tell your grandchildren you were there with pride.

NOW I AM WAITING FOR THE END OF TIME

Well, its been a quiet week on the Island. Buds are popping up through the mulch and pale joggers have been seen along the Crab Cove indent. Sunday saw a spectacular sunrise over the area, with streaks of gold, green, blue and crimson on the horizon. It does feel that we have passed through a difficult season. No report from the mountains as yet regarding icepack, but would expect that the late start resulted in low levels again. Right now the entire Island sleeps. The lady upstairs, practicing for a dance instructorship level III moves at fits and starts. Must be a tango she is doing now. Have to imagine a person spending most of their life practicing a set of movements intended for two people entirely alone.

Modern life is certainly very strange. Or perhaps its only writers who notice these things. Rachel has been industriously working for her Instructor License -- must be much like becoming a doctor -- some two years now and we expect she started long before. Yet never has anyone ascended the stairs to complement her Ginger Rogers. Night after night we hear the lonely sound of a single path of footsteps passing from side to side, up and down. Well, Rachel, we would expect an Astair worthy of merit is out there, soon to sweep you up and go dancing in one gorgeous movement along the walls and the ceiling. And what a movement that will be!

Downstairs, our neighbor Rex works the bridges by day and by night works the soundboard for his music under the name Rex Suru. He and his band have performed at the Independent in Babylon and he knows and has worked with members of Micheal Franti's Burning Spear. There is a strong feeling of "about to be" from Rex's music, and we suspect that there is something going on here about Rachal's dance. This is quite exciting to be around for this budding is as energetic as the entire power of spring, "the green fuse that drives the flower". Our little Island is a place, in the time being, of bulbs nestling in the dark earth, of young shoots firing upwards. And the patient gardener will be well rewarded for the waiting and the watching.

That's the way it is on the Island. Have a great week.

Oh, you might wonder about the various musical references during this issue. They are from a little-known song by a singer by the name of "Meatloaf". Yes, go figure. The name of the song is "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" and you can download it HERE. It runs some 6.4 minutes long.

Next week, we display corresponding cartoons from Arabic newspapers which were printed before the current world crisis precipitated by cartoons printed in Denmark. Your eyes will open.

I. Paradise

Boy:
I remember every little thing
As if it ha