Author: Jeff

“It’s not like she skips school to go banging or to sell drugs. She just likes to skip. But she’s square. She’s hella’ square.”
-A girl to her friends On Pike near the market

I’m crossing Pine at Broadway toward SCCC. A teenage couple is in front of me, their shoes are making clicking sounds against the pavement. When they hit the sidewalk, the boy steps forward onto his right heel and pushes off with his left foot. He coasts a few feet and repeats on the other foot. The girl follows right behind him. They have wheels set into the heels of their shoes.

Caffe Minnie’s is the place where people go to eat at odd hours. Each dish has a pile of fried potatoes scattered over one side of the plate, and all of their food pretty much tastes just like those potatoes. Though, more than one person has reported that the tomato soup is excellent.

My sleep patterns got all out of whack after a long nap on Wednesday. I had a night of tossing & turning, reading, and pacing around, so I gave in and headed out for a bite at around six. I ordered an omellete and a cup of Darjeeling; and settled in to read the Stranger. The food arrived – and I worked through the heavy omelette, and picked through the dry potatoes. That was just about right.

They serve a small scone with breakfast and it’s a pretty nice piece of work. Mine had a single currant right in the center.

The food doesn’t matter, I sat there and watched Broadway. The clouds hung over us, foreshadowing the coming day of uninteresting weather. No one walked by the window. Aside from the deliverers of the newspapers, who were long gone by now, there were few signs of life.

I finished a second cup of tea and headed back home. Walking back up Broadway, I saw the first signs of commerce – brief glimpses of slow movement in a few shops. The Gap girls folding t-shirts. The old guy cleaning up at Dick’s.

I remember when it was raining and sunny at the same time.

And I remember when I stepped into a theater soaked to the bone after a rainy walk. I waited in the crowded lobby and dripped into a paper cup of too hot Earl Grey.

Those were moments.

But there was another time, in the company of sunshine. You were there and you said something to me and I don’t remember what it was. It was perfect, what you said, and I looked at you and you were perfect. And I said, “You’re amazing,” almost aloud.

Then I stood there waiting for the perfect moment.

I have a ticket to a movie at the film festival and Naomi decides to go too. She goes outside to smoke, while I shut down my PC. I stroll out onto the sidewalk, catch a glimpse of someone on the periphery and turn my head with a, ready to go?, look. I’m expecting Naomi, but it’s my neighbor Darien, heading inside. I plant my feet in the sidewalk and turn my head in both directions, trying to spot Naomi.

“How’s it going?”

“Good,” I crane my neck to look behind Darien.

“Where you headed?” He steps into the doorway and finds his keys.

“I’m going to see a movie.” I step closer to the curb and try to look around the corner of the building to see if she’s in front of the other entrance. But I’d need x-ray vision.

“What are you going to see.”

I’m not prepared to give the title and then rattle off a synopsis – so I answer vaguely, “A documentary at the film festival.”

“You going alone?” This is usually the case when we pass each other here.

At this point I must be spinning around in circles and looking up in the sky to see if she’s hovering above us. “No, I expected, . . . I’m looking . . . for my friend . . .”

I can see into Darien’s mind at this point: “Ah yes, his friend.” That’s what I’d be thinking anyway.

Just then, Naomi steps out from amongst the cars parked across the street.

“There she is. See you later, Darien.”

On Thursday, Mari & I followed up on a little misadventure, we went to Sara’s birthday party for real this time. (Sara really knows how to throw a party, by the way. For her thirtieth, she rented out the 35th floor of Smith Tower for god’s sake.) I like seeing the particular slice of Amazon people (& others) that go to Sara’s things. Mari wasn’t feeling well and headed home after awhile.

Sara coaxed people over to the stage when the band started playing. I wandered around the crowd some, anchoring myself to conversations and acquaintances, then cutting myself loose after a few minutes. Dan was wearing a utilikilt. We talked about it for a minute. Actually now that I think about it, the conversation about Dan’s kilt was with Ben, who seemed to know a lot about it.

At one point, ready for another drink, I was interpreting the logic of the line at the bar, and saw Mark getting ready to leave. I took the chance to catch a ride back to Capitol Hill. Mark and friends dropped me off a couple of blocks from home and headed downtown, to another show.

A hip young reporter at the begining of Q13 Reports At Ten struggles for words and misses the point:

“We’ll take you to the vigil for . . . the . . . police officer . . . who shot that fellow.”

I went down to an art opening today. First I called around to find someone to go with me, but no one was home. Upon entering the gallery/cafe, I said hello to Kristina, the curator – a friend from Amazon. I paced around and eyed the paintings, pretty nice from the quick look – a series of heads repeated with three different themes. But I always forget that gallery openings are more a social occasion than they are a venue for viewing art, and I need to have an ally with me in case I have too few entry points for the networking that’s involved.

Still, I was a bit rude. I slipped out – it would’ve been better and more satisfying if I’d found a place to stand and have a drink for a few minutes, given myself and the room a chance to rub elbows or not. But I fled instead, defeated.

The most eloquent piece I’ve written this year:

XML (Extensible Markup Language) is a portable and efficient means to define and manage data of any level of complexity.

Because databases, web-browsers, and Java applications are being designed with the ability to interact with XML directly, it can be used as a universal language for tightly integrating internal applications and as a format for exchanging data with clients.

XML formats are more robust and less complicated than the structures of classic EDI formats like X12 and EDIFACT. In sharp relief to EDIFACT’s and X12’s over-architectured syntax rules, XML syntax requirements are only as complicated as is necessary to maintain data integrity. XML document structures are explicitly defined in schemas that are more manageable than the technical specifications and industry guidelines used to describe classic EDI standards. (2/21/01)

The David Byrne concert was great.

The Commodore Ballroom is a pretty classy setup – a big stage, dance floor resting on ball bearings (for extra bounce), lots of tables and easy bar access. So, after being ushered inside, Justin and I found a table in a corner and waited.

The opener was Joe Henry. He and his band played some nice bluesy rock stuff. I really liked it and after a bit went down to the floor to enjoy it.

He finished his set and as I turned around to walk back to the table, I immediately spotted Justin sitting there, somehow not really blending into the crowd. And it seemed like he spotted me right away, my t-shirt was loud enough that it could be picked out of the audience.

It’s funny how you can identify some people from a distance based just on their posture or based on some gesture. I can’t think of what it is, but it seems like I’ve witnessed some noteable example of this somewhere recently.

After a little time, I wanted to go back to the floor to find a good spot, Justin wasn’t ready to go down. I took off, but first took a detour to the restroom. When I found a good spot on the floor, I looked up to the table and Justin wasn’t there. I craned my neck around, trying to spot him on the floor, but no luck.

A couple of guys behind me were talking about how crowded it was, speculating on the effect this would have on the bouncing dance floor, and how Byrne was hiding out in the tour bus or something. They talked about these things as if they weren’t there, as if they were watching it on television.

So I eventually spotted Justin and worked my way over to him. I said we should get closer, but he was skeptical about whether or not we’d be able to. Strength in numbers, I said, and followed closely behind a girl who was weaving her way closer to the stage, Justin followed behind me.

We found a good spot and Byrne started playing pretty soon after. He strolled out on stage in his messy grey hair. They did some tunes from the new album, and a few Talking Heads classics. (Little side-note: The bass player had 5 strings on his bass, which I thought was interesting. Is this very common?) I glanced over at Justin a few times and he was raising his arms at some key points and lip-synching to some hooks, which I interpreted as meaning that he was having a good time.

After the first handful of songs, Byrne brought out a six-piece orchestral string section. And they filled out the sound pretty nicely. He set aside the guitar for a couple of pieces (there wasn’t a second guitar player) for some violin-driven songs. At one point he played a few oddball songs from soundtracks and such and included a song from The Forest, which was kind of an ambient piece. A little out of place in a rock show, but not quite a show-stopper and it kind of showcased the string section, I liked it.

They played a pretty broad mix of his songs, which was pretty nice.

Near the end, Byrne and the bass player were getting kind of giddy in response to something that was happening at the far right in front of the stage. I’m not sure what was happening.

They finished up the set. Byrne, the bass player, and the two percussion players made a gracious exit and the stage was darkened. The string section stayed on the darkened stage between two staged encores. The requisite cover-song was Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody.

At their final exit, Someone from the audience gave Byrne a sunflower and a plate of shots for the band.

Great show. Lots of fun.

We headed back to the hostel and crashed. Got up early and headed south of the border.

More walking around Vancouver today. Sat and drank a little tea. Nice city. I like it.
…
In a rocky part of the beach, someone has piled rocks into impossibly precarious towers. I go down to investigate, thinking that they’re permanent sculptures held together with a rod, I touch one and it crumbles. A handful of others have gathered to admire the rock sculptures, so I’m shamed in front of a small audience.
…
Strange, occassional whiffs of pot smoke on random street corners.
…
Justin mumbles under his breath, what do you think?, no answer – no complaints, I guess that means he’s having an okay time.
…
We’re just going to relax for the rest of the day, until the concert.