3rp.net Blog

I suppose perhaps I’ve become an Ann Arbor liberal. Which admission may, in some circles, be akin to coming out of the closet if you’re gay. This evening, after a lovely walk in Nichols Arboretum, Karen and I went to eat our supper at Noodles & Co. on State Street. We decided in a moment of sheer folly to tempt the weather by eating our noodle dishes out on the available streetside dining. This was a nice idea for all of about 30 seconds.

The Baptists with Bullhorns had set up camp *directly* across the street and started gettin’ their collective freak on. Which is really something to see for a bunch of overweight, overdressed, mostly past middle age pasty white guys.

The Baptists with Bullhorns began gettin’ their freak on with a nice set of lovely hymns, which to their great credit, were very nicely sung.

While they sang, they had some clearly bewildered, sure to be scarred for life pre-teen boy anchoring a giant sign with various and sundry accusations plastered thereon. Once the hymns were done, there were a few moments of relative silence, punctuated by various forms of traffic and other street noise, during which I allowed myself the fantasy that perhaps that would be the end of things, and they would kindly pack up their freak and get the freak out of Ann Arbor.

However, such was not to be our lot this night.

I had allowed myself to become so absorbed in my fantasy that the squeal of a poorly handled bullhorn shocked me out of my reverie, which had been for a few precious moments, delight in my Thai Noodle Soup.

As it happens, Daddy (or one of Daddy’s friends) had climbed up onto a planter and begun to ready himself for really gettin’ down with his freak.

Please don’t get me wrong. I actually think that there is probably a time and a place and a proper attitude for street preaching. Call me crazy, that’s ok. These fellers, however, had missed the mark on all counts.

Humility? Absent.
Kindness? Absent.
Evidence of love and care? Absent.
All manner of unjust Accusations? Present. And then some.

It seemed to me that these men were more about being able to boast to their religious friends how they were “really livin’ the gospel, brother”, ‘cuz they were out in the trenches, preachin’ on the street in that haven for sinners, Ann Arbor. You know, that town full of filthy liberals, licentious behavior and sodomites!

For heaven’s sake, the man said that the people down in the cancer ward in the UM hospital were there because of the sin of smoking. (!) Gee whiz man!

He really got whipped up into a frenzy when a couple of gay guys started making out in front of him. He bellowed in his anger and self-righteous apoplectic rage, “God does NOT accept you as YOU are!” Now he’s really got some stories to tell about being down in the trenches, fightin’ the good fight, dontcha know.

It’s a wonder I was able to keep my supper down, I was so upset. I wanted to go up to the man, rip off his bullhorn and throw it onto the roof of Michigan Book and Supply. I wanted to whisper in his ear, “do you have ANY IDEA how much damage you and your little friends are doing? Do you know how long I’ve worked here, forged complex relationships, done practical acts of kindness in love here? And you want to come in here, preaching your peculiar brand of un-Biblical hate so you can have stories to tell your friends? Because, listen pal, you are winning no converts here tonight.”

But I did not do that. Or any of the other multitude of aggressions that came into my head during that time. Perhaps that’s cowardice on my part. Perhaps, if I am gracious with myself, it was turning the other cheek, as Jesus would have wanted.

So.

From those of us who are of like mind, to you in Ann Arbor who have been subjected to this, I apologize, really and truly.

May the end of fundamentalism be near!

Today, I’m sorry to report that I fell out of love with San Francisco. There is an angry vibe in this town that rivals Manhattan of the pre-Giuliani years. We came here expecting and hoping to enjoy ourselves – we have both heard enough good things about SF to start believing that it’s a veritable Shangri-la. Perhaps our expectations were too high? Perhaps we haven’t given it enough of a chance? Hard to tell.

Things started off well – we drove in, had a good time driving around the city – the hotel we reserved far exceeded our expectations (it’s sweet, quaint, staffed by kind and helpful people, fastidiously clean, perfectly located and wonder of wonders: affordable) – so it’s not the bad accomodations. Our dining experiences have been fantastic when we’ve elected to actually spend money – so it’s not bad food. The city is picturesque in its own way, but not nearly the paradise that the promo literature would have you believe.

Sadly, I think it comes down to the people.

It’s not uncommon to be walking down the street and hear a cel conversation that goes something like this: “How dare you speak to me like that?!”

The children that you do see are atrociously behaved.

Drivers in this city are worse, if anything, than advertised. And that’s saying something. The Lonely Planet we bought says that we should take the time to do some Zen preparations before venturing out to drive in SF (this is not a joke). That doesn’t help you when you go out to walk, though – you really have to watch yourself to not get run over. And then you’re just as likely to get flipped off and cussed out for being in the right in a crosswalk…

There is a level of anger boiling here that defies simple description. Perhaps it has something to do with GWB getting a second term. Perhaps it has something to do with the gay marriage amendments getting soundly trounced. I’ve been trying to get my arms around this since I’ve been here, and I wonder if it has something to do with privelege.

Karen and I were walking around in a farmers’ market this morning in a well-traveled part of the city. The way people look at you and treat you is remarkable – several times I thought that I had become doggie doo that someone had stepped into – other times I’ve been run into by pedestrians – not even so much as a rueful or apologetic look – nothing even approaching an apology. When I thank someone for service in a restaurant, or just for answering a question, they pretty much haven’t a clue what to do with my courtesy.

What’s happening here?

As I was walking around this market this morning, I remember seeing perfectly coifed men and women, wearing beautiful clothes – the men are perfectly moisturized, the women are perfectly made-up……..and I remember thinking that there is probably more money walking around on the faces of these people in this market than some third-world countries have for their entire monthly GDP.

There is a curious impotence that comes to rich liberals. It’s a combination of being able to see the problems (of which there are admittedly many) of the world we live in, but not having anything approaching a coherent strategy or set of answers to answer the rampaging Republicans. So, there is no plan, and there is no willingness to lift a finger to address the issues. I want more social programs from the government, but I don’t want to pay more taxes. I want better environmental responsibility, but I’m not willing to get rid of my Lexus SUV for something more efficient….

This was my primary critique of the John Kerry run for the Presidency. It’s not enough to proclaim “anyone but Bush”. While we may agree with the sentiment, there needs to be an alternative that captures the hearts and minds of voting men and women in America. It’s “the vision thing”. Sadly, oddly, GWB has it (as Bill Clinton did before him) and John F Kerry did/does not.

But back to SF. We took the “F Line” up to the “Castro district” today. The “F Line” is the line of restored trolley cars that runs from the Fisherman’s Wharf up Market Street. “Castro” is the gay district here in SF. It’s no exaggeration to say that it’s the epicenter of gay activism in America. Both Karen and I expected an experience kind of like South Beach in Miami FL – that is, happy gay folk celebrating their gay-ness. What we actually saw was a great deal of commentary on gay porn (in shops, magazines, news rags, cinemas, etc.), and gay folk holding hands. We did NOT feel safe, I’m sad to report.

I know, by now you’re probably pissed at me, saying that I haven’t given the place enough time to grow on me. Maybe you’re right. But I can tell you this: I’ve been to a lot of cities in my life, both here in the states and in Europe and Asia. I’ve not felt this unsafe in a place since my early teen trips to Manhattan in the early to mid 1980s.

We’ve still got a couple of days here. Perhaps things will change.

Grrr…San Francisco.

This city is truly a great place in many many ways. However, in terms of internet cafes, Vancouver has it beat hands down. I’m currently paying $7 USD for an hour of internet time and can’t even upload pictures. It’s this way all over the city as far as I can tell…whereas in Vancouver, I could pay $2 CAD for an hour. And then, in Victoria (capital of BC…still in Canada…on Vancouver Island…) it was like $6 CAD per hour, but I could still use the USB ports on their PCs for uploading pictures. *sigh* Well, so I get more and more incentive to buy a laptop for my next trip. Heh.

So, you gets to reads my ramblings instead of checks out me pics. Sorry.

I’m in this ice cream/crepe store that also has a coupla internet terminals. And the guy who runs the place (great big swarthy fella of “meditteranean descent” I think) seems to really like Elvis. Which isn’t the end of the world, except for the fact that he insists on singing along at top volume. Oy. Vey.

BTW, this is at LEAST the third time in the last 40 minutes that I’ve heard “It’s a Matter of Time” by The King…………………………..

Argh. OK…now that that’s out of my system…

So, last time I posted pics, Karen and I were in Seattle, Thorp and Vashon Island. Turns out that Vashon Island is one of the major growers of pot on the west coast. A very mellow, age-ing hippie vibe on that island. Fun enough for what it is, but you can only take so much…

We left the Seattle area on Tuesday the 2nd, and drove our Alamo rent-a-SUV down the coast. For a long while it was pea-soup-foggy, but then we left Eugene after spending the night there, and things started to clear up. Just an interesting aside (well, it’s interesting to me anyways)….we stayed in a Motel 6 just outside of Eugene, and tuned in to The Weather Channel to see if the fog was going to continue. You know how TWC does “local weather on the 8’s”? Well, they didn’t have a local weather forcast for Eugene. I kid you not. Totally blew my mind.

Holy smokes. Jackass just put “It’s a Matter of Time” on again. I think I’m gonna be sick.

The good news is that the people watching is kinda fun. Maybe things heat up after 10PM. Lots of couples of every variety you can imagine. I’m constantly feeling underdressed here. Right now there is a group of 8 Koreans with sportcoats and cigarettes out front. Hehe. And here I sit in my weatherproof Eddie Bauer coat, REI convertible pants, Birks and SmartWool socks. Definitely more Vancouver than SF…

Anyways…….back to my narrative……

Which I know you were just waiting for with baited breath…

So, we’re driving down the coast, and we end up in Redwood National Forest. And all I have to say is “wow”. Even as I was taking pictures of that amazing place, I knew there was no way I could do it any justice at all. So green, so dense, so quiet, peaceful…I could have walked off into that woods and never come back. Oh…and that place really is “the Forest Moon of Endor”. That’s where they shot the film.

I have lots of cool pics to share….I just gotta figure out how to upload them.

Be back soon….

Off to LA this coming Tuesday…

Back in MI the Tuesday after that…