The last time I was unemployed, I spent many a night at this joint. Man do I miss this place: the fireplace, the jukebox that was loaded up with crappy country songs (so we played a LOT of Rolling Stones), the small glasses of beer, THE RED TELEPHONE, the red vinyl booths, the giant wooden keg table in the corner with the lights you could manually dim, TROY the best bartender EVER, the townie pool players, and that oddly shaped, curvy bar. Sigh.
… that new car smell. I’m sure one day soon I will wake up and not be in awe of the fact that this actually happened. But until then, just, wow.
with the weight of their claims.
I’ve been listening to the 6ths a LOT lately. And Magnetic Fields, and Gothic Archies, even Future Bible Heroes. All Stephin Merritt, all day. Somewhere, I have on cassette the Stuart Moxham 6ths song from the first album, which was on the ultra rare 7″ box version of the record. (Lynn has the actual now.) I wish I could hear that song right now.
The 6ths – “Aging Spinsters”
The 6ths – “You Can’t Break a Broken Heart” (w/Jeffrey Underhill of Honeybunch)
The 6ths – “Lindy Lou” (w/Miho Hatori of Cibo Matto)
See ya later. You stunk.
Well, not entirely. There was that one incredibly healthy note struck in July when M said, “Yes.”
But as far as my professional life goes, you were a craptastic year. And as for my health, 2008 pulled me forcefully into “middle age.”
Maybe it’s no surprise that I’ve been listening to a lot of pensive music as of late. It compliments my mood. While at Amoeba Records, I picked up a copy of Rodan’s Rusty on CD for $3. I don’t recall when I got rid of my copy — maybe several years ago? — but when I saw it sitting on the shelf I was immediately stricken by the desire to listen to “Shiner.” It sounds dated, but in a way that reminds me of my angry youth. Of headbanging to Lifetime. Of stomping around while listening to Shellac and Yona Kit. Of the first time I listened to Bleach.
And that’s a good thing.
Rodan – “Shiner”
In case you’re wondering, the whole record still sounds good as well, especially “The Everyday World of Bodies.” Maybe some day I’ll feel like breaking out June of 44 again.
Filed under: food, rest & relaxation, travel | Tags: Marin County, San Francisco
New Year’s eve began with a trip to City Lights, where M purchased some poetry.
As we waited for the fog to lift, I enjoyed a tasty lunch at a nearby taquería. Tim and Emily were visiting Tim’s parents on the other side of the bay. They crossed the bay and picked us up, and we headed back to Marin County for some shoreline fun. First, we tried to hike to the Point Bonita Lighthouse, but the tunnel through this rock (below) to the lighthouse was closed this day. Still, the area was beautiful.
These green and red ground cover in the foreground of the above photo are called ice plants. It was all over the rocky coastline, and its sturdy fingers were intriguing.
This area of the coast was littered with former military bunkers of varying sizes. They were tagged with graffiti and falling apart, like the one below that stood perilously close to the cliff’s edge. Of course, this setting made for some good photo opps.
Then we headed further north to Tennessee Beach to catch the sunset. A two-mile walk through the green hills gave way to the Pacific. The beach had its own reflecting pool just prior to the shoreline.
The water was so cold — or the beauty so inspiring — that Tim danced a little jig on the beach.
The beach was a mini-cove, enclosed on both sides by rocky cliffs.
More snapshots were necessary.
We washed off our sandy feet as best as possible, then began the long walk back to the car as darkness fell over the valley. Along the way, we spotted an amphibious creature crossing the road and a deer atop a nearby hill.
Tim had the bright idea of sitting down on the sand to air dry his feet before putting his socks back on. Thus, he was rewarded with a wet ass.
We drove further north along the curvy, steep road until we reached the Pelican Inn, which featured a cozy English pub. We enjoyed bowls of lobster bisque and a plowman’s lunch with our pints of ale, then drove back to the city for the evening. After eating a diner dinner, we bar-hopped before ending up atop our hotel for the countdown.
It was a long day, and we were all tired. So, like the responsible 30-somethings we are, we called it a night at 12:15.
