Magic Spot Flowing

Last night I dreamed, in the middle of a dream with a complicated plot and a lot of characters, that I was in a building and there was an earthquake. It wasn’t a bad one, but it was scary. I woke up this morning to find that apparently there was one. Reality intruded into my dream. I don’t think the real earthquake was as bad as I dreamed, but I’m pretty sure they are connected because they happened at the same time. The earthquake was at 5:30 and I woke up from my dream around 6.

WEIRD.

I recently got the opportunity to borrow a car again. The last time I had a car for a while, I had borrowed my dad’s, and had the adventures of 101/92/280 to San Francisco on a Tuesday night and parallel parking.

My adventures this time were quieter. The lowlight (or highlight) was a drive home from Daly City BART, in the dark, in heavy rain and fog, on 280. It was truly scary at times, in a way that only one ride I can think of (it was dark, rainy, windy, and I was physically shaky from stomach upset) has scared me.

I enjoy my occasional opportunities to drive as a time to get a different perspective on the size of the Bay Area, the time it takes to get places, and the hassle involved. One thing I realized this time is that my perception of traffic is totally different as a cyclist. I never think about the freeway commute-hour traffic, because I’m never on the freeway then. And on city streets, I’m treated to long traffic-free stretches either because of a bike lane or because the way the traffic lights are timed (cars tend to bunch up). It turns out that coming home at 5:30, the traffic makes the journey nearly the same as if I rode, and far more variable and stressful. Same with traveling within town. Driving to an office downtown takes the same time as riding to it.

It also reminds me of why drivers behave the way they do. Why do they squeeze by to pass? It’s kind of hard to tell how close you really are, because the cyclist is usually on the side of the car away from you. And some roads I thought were wide enough to share really aren’t, and I should be more assertive about lane-taking. Why do they drive so fast? Because they can and they don’t even notice they are. Why don’t they expect to see me? Because cyclists really aren’t that common of a sight on most roads, sadly. Why don’t they slow down or stop properly? Because they know they see you, even if you don’t know that.

FYI, if you do this, please don’t, because I really can’t be sure you see me. Stop properly and don’t act like you even might turn or drift into me, even if you know you won’t.

Being a cyclist makes me a more patient driver in some ways that aren’t directly related to my behavior when I see cyclists. I’m less inclined to speed, because I’m no longer habituated to driving at 55 or 65, and I’m not in a hurry because I know no matter how long it takes in a car, it would take as long or longer without one! (My usual speed is 3 mph walking and 10-20 mph cycling.) On the other hand, I get impatient because I am stuck with the traffic; I can’t bypass it as I could if I were a cyclist.

In general, I’m extremely happy to be back on my feet or two wheels, just like last time. And I’ve been poking around for new inspiration to do more. One thing on my agenda is to buy a touring bike (Goal #50), and then get an Xtracycle conversion kit for the current bike. Then I’ll have a SUB (sport utility bike) which can be used for hauling, as well as an easily equippable commuter and tour-ready bike. (The small diamond of my current bike makes it hard to properly cargo-equip with racks and panniers.) Then I’ll just need a tour-ready Alexis!

Also on the subject of cargo, I came across the lovely Year of Living Carlessly Experiment Series. The second item in the series discusses an old Burley bike trailer that they push around to carry cargo in for destinations in walking radius. How utterly brilliant! Why did it never occur to me that a convertible bike trailer can be pushed around when I’m walking? Why limit myself to what I can carry, when I can push or pull?

Now I REALLY need to get a bike trailer (Goal #46), but it also has to be one I can push around. Cool!

A few days ago I got a message from the San Francisco Symphony about a deal they were running on a bunch of concerts: all remaining tickets $25 or $55, if purchased through today. I looked through the list and noticed a couple that interested me, including one that was tonight. Resphigi’s Fountains of Rome was on the program, which I thought I recalled having some good clarinet bits. It turned out I was thinking of the Pines of Rome rather than the Fountains, but I’m still glad I went. Since it was on short notice most people were busy, and I ended up going with my dad. We went out to dinner first, which made the whole thing more of a fun event — definitely needed since it was pouring rain this afternoon and evening. After calling around about a table in a few places in the area (note to self: don’t try to make dinner reservations on a Saturday night in a hopping area of San Francisco starting at 5:30 when you have to eat before a concert at 8), we ended up at a wine bar on Market called Cav.

Unlike going to the SF Symphony, going to a wine bar has never been on my to-do list in life. I like wine, and I’ve learned a bit about it since I moved here, but I’m not into it particularly. Wine people are sometimes snooty, and the food at a wine bar often isn’t the main attraction. Fortunately, this wine bar turned out to be great. It was definitely ‘hip’, but the people behind the bar were friendly and helpful, and the food was excellent. I had butternut squash ravioli with little turnip cubes and swiss chard, and it was really way beyond my expectations. I always like butternut squash, and I figured it would be some nice big ravioli with your standard thick puree inside. Instead, it was the kind of dish you end up dreaming about several years later when you realize you haven’t been back and now the place is closed and you can’t have anymore. The ravioli were small and delicate, the squash filling was pureed and very sweet but light, the turnips were flavorful and not bitter, and the sauce was a clear one, light and salty enough to counterbalance the sweetness of the squash.

I knew that that’s what I was going to have when I came, because it was the only vegetarian entree, so when I was picking a wine I did keep in mind what I’d be eating it with. I ended up picking a pinot blanc from Skylark Wine Company, which was really nice and just as described, fruity with a bit of weight (those are my words — they said something about tangerines and nuts). Funny enough, the guy told me that the wine would go well with the dish. So I guess I’m not as clueless as I sometimes think I am, or else I’m just lucky. We were both right; they went well together.

But to get to the actual point of this post, the concert was excellent. The highlight of the evening actually turned out not to be the Fountains, but rather the Scottish Fantasy for Violin and Orchestra by Bruch. The violinist, James Ehnes, was almost certainly the best violinist I’ve ever heard perform. After a while of listening to him I realized that he sounds exactly like I expect a violin should sound. He had an extremely pure and clear sound, and a great deal of precision. Everything was just so, but he was still very expressive as well. I also found it mildly hilarious that he is from Brandon, Manitoba. 1) Canadian! 2) Brandon?! (Brandon, it turns out, is near Winnipeg, actually a town of 50K+ people and the second-largest city in Manitoba, and not all that far from Fargo, in the realm of “places I’ve been”.)

Overall, while I enjoyed the concert a lot, I found the SF Symphony less mindblowing than I suppose I had expected. I think it’s because I’ve been terribly spoiled for hearing excellent orchestras, from NMSO to the Shepherd School Symphony Orchestra, from the Scottish Chamber Orchestra to the UC Berkeley University Symphony Orchestra. The SFS is definitely a cut above all of these, but it’s also costly and doesn’t provide me with good seating pretty much automatically. Yes, I said I was spoiled.

Still, I was highly impressed. It’s everything a top-notch symphony should be, plus a certain extra delicacy of touch and increased precision. I particularly noticed that the orchestra only once got to the volume where music, for me, disintegrates into noise. This tends to happen to me fairly often during loud pieces, but they definitely brought the intensity without bringing the noise.

The principal woodwinds (the only ones I’m really fit to judge) are definitely mindblowingly good. The clarinettist was highly fluid and navigated incredible intervals without the slightest squeak. The oboe and English horn tones were distinctively double-reed without being nasal in the least, and the bassoonist executed some amazing high notes. The flute solos were smooth and clear.

I also tremendously enjoyed watching Vladimir Ashenkazy conduct. I love his playing (many of the piano recordings I have are of him) and so it’s a treat to see what he can do in another realm. He has clear and descriptive movements, but doesn’t seem to have to exhort the orchestra as some conductors do; he has the kind of energy that often results in dancing conductors, but with a groundedness that keeps the music stable and him from actually dancing off into the air.

To top it off, the symphony hall is also quite beautiful. The place is pleasantly warm from pink tones without being too pink, and the organ behind the orchestra is amazing to look at. I can only imagine how it must sound! From the outer lobby, you get a view of City Hall.

I’m looking forward to going back to see them in May, this time for Brahms’ German Requiem, which I absolutely adore. If that doesn’t blow my mind, I don’t know what will.

I’ve recently gotten very interested in chocolate-mint sandwich cookies.

I first discovered that there are Mint Oreos by accident several months ago in the grocery store. While I don’t like chocolate much, I generally like chocolate-mint combos if there’s enough mint and the chocolate isn’t too intense.

The Mint Oreos really taste a lot like Thin Mints, which I love. They have pretty much the typical Oreo profile, but with a little extra filling (technically DoubleStuf but they aren’t as stuffed as the standard Double Stuf). They’re a little artificial-tasting and the center is unnecessarily green. The cookie part is thick and a little soft for a crisp cookie.

Another chocolate-mint sandwich cookie is the seasonal Candy Cane Jo-Jo from Trader Joes. These things are crack in the form of little brown-and-pink wheels. The taste is much cleaner than the Oreos, I presume because they’re more ‘natural’. The mint is intense and the candy-cane bits are pleasantly crunchy. The outside chocolate wheels taste nicely but not overwhelmingly of chocolate, and are a bit crispier than the Oreo wheels. I love these and wish they were year-round.

The most recent one I tried is the Newman-O’s Hint o’ Mint version of their cookie. I was not impressed with these. The filling is thin and not very minty, although at least it’s white instead of green. The cookie wheels are hard and nearly tasteless, almost like chocolate cardboard. Very disappointing.

This is a weird interest for me, because usually I’m more into real food and doing my own cooking and baking, rather than comparing various types of manufactured sweet. But there’s something just a little special about chocolate mint. Thin Mints and York Peppermint Patties too. And what are those little ones with the green center you get in restaurants?

Greenwald writes:

That has become Congress’ only role, its only power: to endorse what the President decrees. Like the sad, impotent Roman Senate which existed only to lend its imprimatur to the Emperor’s conduct, the Congress’ only choices are — as it did yesterday — to plead for “re-consideration,” and then, when it’s not forthcoming, either do nothing or endorse the President’s behavior.

Not only a highly evocative description and highly relevant to the latest nonsense on the FISA bill, but one of a falling empire — which is what our country is, in case you haven’t noticed lately. It’s extremely depressing, because instead of just stopping the empire-like behavior, we’re doing crazier and crazier things and managing them worse and worse.

I’m especially discouraged to learn that the other side is smearing the EFF, of all things, lumping them in with rich trial lawyers. Because a non-profit law firm protecting people’s rights is oh-so-lucrative…are they crazy? The EFF is a wonderful organization and personally and civically very dear to me. Which reminds me, where is my checkbook? Time to send them some money.

I’m loving the Dear Prudence column in Slate, which I discovered by accident. She’s got at least as much sense as Sars and a good dose of snark too, but with a bit more “Miss Manners” style and a touch of the “old-fashioned politeness” Ann Landers/Dear Abby tone.

I find it funny and realistic that she so often tells people to get therapy. Most advice columnists shy away from that except when it’s obviously needed, but usually if you have enough problems that you’re writing to an advice column, you either know the answer to the question and just wish someone would tell you it’s okay, or you need therapy. :-)

Not so much loving: spending two hours at the Sunnyvale BPAC meeting before getting to do public comment. I appreciate the people there are very dedicated and they have certain rules they have to follow about procedure. And I also appreciate that warm bodies are respected more than cold emails, and that sometimes to give input on things I care about, I have to suck it up and wait.

But it didn’t leave me wanting to try any more forays into personal public comment. The City Council meeting may be the more important one, but it’ll go on for hours and half the people there will just infuriate me with what they’re saying. Waiting for two hours without dinner while some wonderful and dedicated citizens (and I mean that, but oy, two hours?) discuss wording points is time-consuming enough for me for now.

I enjoyed MetroRiderLA’s series of posts on transit in the Bay Area.

My most-used system: Caltrain

Best line:

The January 17 journey on Train 362 was very fast.
Then again, this trip didn’t cover anything south of Millbrae. Had
there been more time, this 10-part miniseries would have been a Greek
epic, with the transit odyssey including entries on the Santa Clara
Valley Transportation Authority’s bus and barren light rail and the
ruins of the once vast samTrans duchy. Any transit agency rebellious
enough to begin its name without capitalization is worth a write-up.

The system I hate to love: BART

This is a really excellent analysis of the pros and cons of BART. A few excerpts:

BART focuses its primary trunk service on San Francisco, with it
forming the head of a squid. The four endpoints on the east side of
the Tube form its tentacles, with a secondary trunk formed through
Oakland….

In the East Bay, this squid service also took on the characteristics
of a gorilla. It was very burdensome to maintain both San Francisco-
like train and bus service. BART had something that AC Transit
didn’t: funding primacy.

When counties buy in to BART by joining the district, they take on
the responsibilities of funding both their construction and and
operations within their jurisdictions. This solved the problem of
the who’s-subsidizing-whom issue, but there was always a threat of a
county chiseling its obligation. So the BART service obligations were
the first to be paid. It sounded like a fiscally upright arrangement.

The burden would then fall on bus riders. Since BART only had to
be concerned with its trains and would get first dibs on money, it
didn’t have to worry about local bus service. AC Transit bore the
brunt of service cuts, even though there was very heavy demand for
local East Bay bus service….

The Bay Area’s biggest loser has to be samTrans. San Mateo County bet
it all on a massive BART extension and watched it backfire bad. San
Mateo opted out of being a charter member of the BART district, but
it still got service as far as Daly City, on the northern edge of the
county line, and then Colma, the city where the dead outnumber the
living. The line kept creeping southward, going in as far as Millbrae
and San Francisco International Airport. The county paid for these
extensions by pawning samTrans service. The massive service expansion
southward proved to be a colossal failure. Airport ridership had been
abysmal, plus BART was largely duplicating the service of the more
culturally ingrained Caltrain commuter rail service. The saddest part
of all: samTrans lost more bus riders than BART gained rail riders.

Now the squid-gorilla is coming after Santa Clara County, with a
long-term vision of forming a ring around the Bay. The Valley
Transportation Authority is grappling with paying for an excessively
expensive BART extension, all while being infamous for having an
extensive but unproductive light rail network. It also already has
service along both sides of the bay by the more antiquated technology
known as conventional rail. BART would be astronomically expensive,
redundant and if light rail has been any indication … Santa Clara
County should know what the First Rule of Holes is.

Just yesterday I was reading an editorial that used San Mateo County BART as a success story. <game show eeeeennnnnnnt>

I haven’t read the whole series but I suspect it’s worth reading.

In the meantime, tonight I’m off to Sunnyvale City Hall to tell the City Council that that all road users deserve safe accommodation.

More later: I’m planning a letter to the Menlo Park City Council telling them I think they have their heads in the sand (or somewhere else, perhaps) if they really think opposing high-speed rail on the Peninsula is a good plan.