As Barack Obama was taking the oath of office on Jan. 20, there was another ceremony happening at San Francisco's Fisherman's Wharf. The figure of George W. Bush at the Wax Museum was being removed from its place of honor as befits an incumbent president of the United States. A wax likeness of Obama will take its place later this year. The figure of Bush was taken away without incident.
It may come as a disappointment to some readers but it was not pulled down with ropes by an enraged mob. No popcorn from the nearby vendors on Jefferson St. was thrown. No angry tourists were on hand to shake their fists at the wax dummy, shouting epithets. (Remember, it's easier to shout epithets than to spell them. I wonder if anyone ever ran through a cemetery shouting epitaphs -- but I digress) No, there was no shouting at all (not until people found parking tickets left on their windshields later; at Fisherman's Wharf, parking is such sweet sorrow). No shoes were thrown at the waxen Bush, either. Besides, who can afford to throw their shoes away these days? Now that I think of it, Shoe Pavilion, too, has gone out of business. Bankruptcy is a hallmark of the Bush years. All the same, as George Bush left office and departed his place at the Wax Museum, there were no protests, no ugly words, no recriminations, no hard feelings. Not much. All along Bush St. on Jan. 20 the street signs were covered over with "Obama" stickers. But that was as pointed as the demonstrations got.
David Perry, who manages the publicity at the Wax Museum, says there were several suggestions as to what to do with the wax figure of George Bush.
"Someone suggested that we stick a wick at the top of his head, and melt him down," said David. "At the cost of around $20,000 for one of these figures, that's not likely to happen. I can't tell you the other ideas because I know you write for a family newspaper."
A shame Bush can't become a candle. That way he might have been one of the best and the brightest after all.
No, the removal of Bush's likeness from its place of honor was all very friendly and civil, emulating the peaceful transfer of power that we witnessed in Washington. There was a party atmosphere down there at the Wharf as there was all over the country on Inauguration Day. When the giggling subsided, Wax Museum Curator Curtis Huber simply picked up the fellow, put him under his arm, and trundled him off to the Hall of Former Presidents in the Museum.
"It's in a darker corner now," explained David Perry.
How dark is it? The Bushwax could use a candle for company. But a candle, I guess, is the last thing the owners of a wax museum would like to see around the house.
And so Bush is a former president. No. 43 has left the building on Pennsylvania Ave., as he says, "with my head held high."
His head is still intact at the Wax Museum, too -- held high, no doubt, by Mucilage or something.
On Jan. 20 all heads seemed to be turned toward Obama, all minds tuned into a message of hope.
"For as much as government can do and must do," Obama said in his Inaugural speech, "it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate."
Bush is not needed, even for candles. That's fine. We'll light our own. We've gone through a long patch of darkness. It's time to bask in the luminosity of hope. Even the optimistic Obama suggests that things are going to get pretty murky, get pretty rough before they get better. So Iet's light a candle for someone, and offer a prayer. A candle signifies renewal, a chance for change. I don't want to get bogged down with old grievances. What's that old Chinese proverb? It's better to light a candle than to curse the man who might've been melted down at the Wax Museum, right? Something like that. I'll go Google it.
Bruce Bellingham is a columnist for SF Northside and Media People and the author of Bellingham by the Bay published by Council Oak Books.
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Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Has Groundhog Day Gone Underground?
You may or may not heard that Groundhog Day was cancelled this year. Yes, just like they called off the New Year's bash at the Hyatt Regency Hotel for poor ticket sales. Groundhog Day wasn't officially abandoned, of course. It was quietly overlooked because Punxsutawney Phil is now afraid of his own shadow. He stayed in his hole, cowering, afraid to impart any more bad news, and bum out people even more than they are now. As you know, if he sees his shadow, the recession will continue. He he doesn't, the good people of Punxsutawney, Pa. will apply for a bailout. Things have been pretty gloomy in Punxsutawney these days, as they are in most towns across America.
Punxsutawney Phil's predictions used to be limited to the weather. Then he realized he couldn't do any worse than Alan Greenspan, so Phil became an economist. In 2009, an economist is someone who has outlived his uselessness. They're even more unnecessary than writers -- I didn't think that was possible.
Aw, I'm just kidding. The politicians, that is, regulators or non-regulators, wouldn't listen to the economists anyway. As for writers, that is, columnists, they come down from their hiding places in the woods when the battle is over, and finish off the wounded. That's their job.
George W. Bush finally got around to calling it a recession before he left Washington with his head held high. Of course, everyone already knew that it was a recession already. His job was to belabor the obvious, and make it sound convincing. Now that things are worsening, I hear the phrase depression-recession. That's where it's headed. Why not call it what it is? A decession.
The movie Groundhog Day became a metaphor for being trapped in a manic sameness, one day repeating itself, again and again – it becomes a tortuous predictability. But life these days has become turbulent, unpredictable, raucous, and dangerous. It emulates the stock market roiling with that inevitable word intoned by the Cassandras of the airwaves -- volatility.
This is why Punxsutawney Phil now considers the world too scary to risk leaving his hole – unless he’s dragged out by ambitious publicists, and members of the Chamber of Commerce again. And who could blame him? At least he still has a home. We’ve certainly dug a big hole for ourselves but I wouldn’t be so sure we can crawl into it and hide. The whole idea of private property seems to have turned out to be a whole lot of malarkey. That hole belongs to the bank. The banks get bailed out – we don’t.
Bruce Bellingham is a columnist for the Marina Times and Media People, and is the author of Bellingham by the Bay, published by Council Oak Books.
###
Punxsutawney Phil's predictions used to be limited to the weather. Then he realized he couldn't do any worse than Alan Greenspan, so Phil became an economist. In 2009, an economist is someone who has outlived his uselessness. They're even more unnecessary than writers -- I didn't think that was possible.
Aw, I'm just kidding. The politicians, that is, regulators or non-regulators, wouldn't listen to the economists anyway. As for writers, that is, columnists, they come down from their hiding places in the woods when the battle is over, and finish off the wounded. That's their job.
George W. Bush finally got around to calling it a recession before he left Washington with his head held high. Of course, everyone already knew that it was a recession already. His job was to belabor the obvious, and make it sound convincing. Now that things are worsening, I hear the phrase depression-recession. That's where it's headed. Why not call it what it is? A decession.
The movie Groundhog Day became a metaphor for being trapped in a manic sameness, one day repeating itself, again and again – it becomes a tortuous predictability. But life these days has become turbulent, unpredictable, raucous, and dangerous. It emulates the stock market roiling with that inevitable word intoned by the Cassandras of the airwaves -- volatility.
This is why Punxsutawney Phil now considers the world too scary to risk leaving his hole – unless he’s dragged out by ambitious publicists, and members of the Chamber of Commerce again. And who could blame him? At least he still has a home. We’ve certainly dug a big hole for ourselves but I wouldn’t be so sure we can crawl into it and hide. The whole idea of private property seems to have turned out to be a whole lot of malarkey. That hole belongs to the bank. The banks get bailed out – we don’t.
Bruce Bellingham is a columnist for the Marina Times and Media People, and is the author of Bellingham by the Bay, published by Council Oak Books.
###
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Bellingham by the Bay - San Francisco, February 2009
"I wonder how many Facebook friends Carl Sagan would have had?" These are the sorts of disturbing questions that keep comedian Norm Goldblatt awake at night. Norm is also a scientist. His jokes don't go for the jugular as much as they go for the frontal lobe: "I bought AOL in 2001 for 100 bucks. It's now trading at 5. Logged on the other night. I could have sworn I heard, 'You got nailed." ... Norm Howard, now retired from KQED-FM, confesses he turns 70 this month. One of his guilty pleasures at this stage: "I enjoy nude beaches -- after a few minutes I find I have them all to myself." ... One of my guilty pleasures is watching reruns of Street of San Francisco on KOFY Channel 20 at 11 a.m. on weekdays. The last refuge of the underemployed. The other day, a young-looking Paul Sorvino (a show from 1976) played a N.Y. detective who greatly irritated S.F. coppers Karl Malden & Michael Douglas by repeatedly referring to this town as "Frisco." It became a running gag for the hour & was certainly inspired by Herb "Don't Call It Frisco" Caen's column. Hard to believe that Herb's been gone 12 years this month. ...
Speaking of the running gag, some may recall when Herb used to endlessly tease the town of Chico (nestled in the Sacramento Valley) in his column after a reader told him how Velveeta was proffered in the gourmet cheese section in a Chico supermarket. In 1987, Playboy crowned Chico State the No. 1 party school in the nation. Chico native Kelda McKinney, who works for Karen Larsen Associates -- the indie film promoters on Ritch Street -- says things have been more sedate in Chico in recent years but word around campus is the kids want their status back as the preeminent party town. "More drinking, more partying, more outrageous behavior is the new order of the day in Chico," reports Kelda. "I'm glad I live in San Francisco. It's so sane here." ... Caen was fond of "namephreaks." He would have liked the name of the vet in charge of tending to Claude, the albino alligator with the sore claw at the Academy of Sciences -- Dr. Freeland Dunker. ...
Herb Gold, the famous novelist who frequents the It's A Grind & The Crepe House cafes on Polk Street, paid homage to his old friend, Dick Seaver, the editor who died last month in N.Y. at the age of 82. Mr. Seaver resisted small minds & big censorship to bring writers like Samuel Becket, Henry Miller, and William Burroughs to American readers. Mr. Seaver's death hit Herb pretty hard. ... The Crepe House is enduring a salutary invasion of Russians -- two charming ladies who work the floor, Elena Gorobchuk & Oxana Ryabanskaya. "They are the best," says their boss, manager Saad Muyatash. It just occurred to me. Is it really 20 years since the fall of the Soviet Union? ...
Ft. Mason's Magic Theatre, facing financial collapse, managed to save its 43rd season by raising $450,000, mostly through small contributions to its website -- in much the way Obama financed his campaign. The show went on with its new production,Tough Titty, by Oni Faida Lampley. … S.F. native Ginger Kroll just landed a juicy part in the film Notorious, the story of rapper Notorious B.I.G. Ginger’s part is apparently physical in every way. Stunning Ginger does her own stunts. ... Check out artist David Montgomery's new show even if just for the intriguing title, Trying to Cope with Things That Aren't Human at 1928 Folsom St., Thurs. - Sun., Noon - 6 p.m through Feb. 28 ... If you’re in the San Mateo area on Friday, Feb. 6, drop into the San Mateo Marriott Convention Center, 1770 South Amphlett Blvd. for a performance by Chamber Mix. It’s a premiere of a work by local composer John Bilotta, who graduated Music & Arts Institute, which used to be in Pacific Heights. It’s called The Poems to Come for flute, clarinet, viola, cello & piano.. It’s at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10 at the door.Info: http://www.capmt.org/site/conference/conference.htm …
Chesley Sullenberger, the US Airways pilot from Danville who created “The Miracle on the Hudson” seems to be the just the hero that people were looking for in the middle of this most bleak winter. Up at Le Beau grocery on Leavenworth, Frank Abrams never lets the facts get in the way of his cynicism. “What’s all this about Canadian geese bringing the plane down?” he asks. “How’d they get over the border anyway?” Anti-Canada jokes are back. News reports of the crash landing brought a new expression to the lingo: “bird strike.” Bird strike? I didn’t know they even had a union. …
This month mark’s President’s Day. It’s a memorable one because we have a new president who’s likely to be memorable. His hero is Lincoln. Obama didn’t take a private jet to his Inauguration. He took a train, as Lincoln did. He took the oath of office with his hand on Lincoln’s bible. Nice touch. The President’s Day holiday was signed into law in 1971 by Richard Nixon. It combined the birthdays of Washington & Lincoln and was meant to “honor all the presidents of the past.” All of them? Even Nixon? I’m sure that’s what he had in mind. He certainly didn’t create the holiday to give bank employees the day off. Bush would have done that. Nixon didn’t use banks. He had his money delivered to him in battered suitcases by burly men in bulging jackets while he was on the golf course.
From the picture of Lincoln I’ve seen, it looked like he never got any sleep. Obama already looks like that. Old Abe was fatigue personified. At the end of his term, he had guided the country through the Civil War and all he wanted was a nap. But, oh, no, Mrs. Lincoln insisted they go the theater anyway that last night. Ulysses S. Grant oiled out of that evening, and quietly slipped out of town. “There are two things that scare the tarnation out of me,” Grant might’ve said. “Running out of Tennessee whiskey, and running into Lincoln’s wife.” She had a terrific temper. “Emancipation Proclamation?” she shrieked at Abe. “I’ll show you Emancipation Proclamation. Take out the garbage!” … Washington & Lincoln were remarkable figures who seemed committed to doing the right thing & made great sacrifices to do so. We might not be able to remember the exact dates of their birthdays anymore but we can recall enough to wonder, “Why can’t we find anybody like them?” Maybe we have. Mr. Obama, it’s your turn. America is looking for another hero during this very cruel winter.
Bruce Bellingham is also a columnist for the Marina Times and for Media People. He’s the author of Bellingham by the Bay published by Council Oak Books. Because of his restless nature, he’s been described as “peripatetic.” That’s not to be confused with “pathetic.”
###
Speaking of the running gag, some may recall when Herb used to endlessly tease the town of Chico (nestled in the Sacramento Valley) in his column after a reader told him how Velveeta was proffered in the gourmet cheese section in a Chico supermarket. In 1987, Playboy crowned Chico State the No. 1 party school in the nation. Chico native Kelda McKinney, who works for Karen Larsen Associates -- the indie film promoters on Ritch Street -- says things have been more sedate in Chico in recent years but word around campus is the kids want their status back as the preeminent party town. "More drinking, more partying, more outrageous behavior is the new order of the day in Chico," reports Kelda. "I'm glad I live in San Francisco. It's so sane here." ... Caen was fond of "namephreaks." He would have liked the name of the vet in charge of tending to Claude, the albino alligator with the sore claw at the Academy of Sciences -- Dr. Freeland Dunker. ...
Herb Gold, the famous novelist who frequents the It's A Grind & The Crepe House cafes on Polk Street, paid homage to his old friend, Dick Seaver, the editor who died last month in N.Y. at the age of 82. Mr. Seaver resisted small minds & big censorship to bring writers like Samuel Becket, Henry Miller, and William Burroughs to American readers. Mr. Seaver's death hit Herb pretty hard. ... The Crepe House is enduring a salutary invasion of Russians -- two charming ladies who work the floor, Elena Gorobchuk & Oxana Ryabanskaya. "They are the best," says their boss, manager Saad Muyatash. It just occurred to me. Is it really 20 years since the fall of the Soviet Union? ...
Ft. Mason's Magic Theatre, facing financial collapse, managed to save its 43rd season by raising $450,000, mostly through small contributions to its website -- in much the way Obama financed his campaign. The show went on with its new production,Tough Titty, by Oni Faida Lampley. … S.F. native Ginger Kroll just landed a juicy part in the film Notorious, the story of rapper Notorious B.I.G. Ginger’s part is apparently physical in every way. Stunning Ginger does her own stunts. ... Check out artist David Montgomery's new show even if just for the intriguing title, Trying to Cope with Things That Aren't Human at 1928 Folsom St., Thurs. - Sun., Noon - 6 p.m through Feb. 28 ... If you’re in the San Mateo area on Friday, Feb. 6, drop into the San Mateo Marriott Convention Center, 1770 South Amphlett Blvd. for a performance by Chamber Mix. It’s a premiere of a work by local composer John Bilotta, who graduated Music & Arts Institute, which used to be in Pacific Heights. It’s called The Poems to Come for flute, clarinet, viola, cello & piano.. It’s at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10 at the door.Info: http://www.capmt.org/site/conference/conference.htm …
Chesley Sullenberger, the US Airways pilot from Danville who created “The Miracle on the Hudson” seems to be the just the hero that people were looking for in the middle of this most bleak winter. Up at Le Beau grocery on Leavenworth, Frank Abrams never lets the facts get in the way of his cynicism. “What’s all this about Canadian geese bringing the plane down?” he asks. “How’d they get over the border anyway?” Anti-Canada jokes are back. News reports of the crash landing brought a new expression to the lingo: “bird strike.” Bird strike? I didn’t know they even had a union. …
This month mark’s President’s Day. It’s a memorable one because we have a new president who’s likely to be memorable. His hero is Lincoln. Obama didn’t take a private jet to his Inauguration. He took a train, as Lincoln did. He took the oath of office with his hand on Lincoln’s bible. Nice touch. The President’s Day holiday was signed into law in 1971 by Richard Nixon. It combined the birthdays of Washington & Lincoln and was meant to “honor all the presidents of the past.” All of them? Even Nixon? I’m sure that’s what he had in mind. He certainly didn’t create the holiday to give bank employees the day off. Bush would have done that. Nixon didn’t use banks. He had his money delivered to him in battered suitcases by burly men in bulging jackets while he was on the golf course.
From the picture of Lincoln I’ve seen, it looked like he never got any sleep. Obama already looks like that. Old Abe was fatigue personified. At the end of his term, he had guided the country through the Civil War and all he wanted was a nap. But, oh, no, Mrs. Lincoln insisted they go the theater anyway that last night. Ulysses S. Grant oiled out of that evening, and quietly slipped out of town. “There are two things that scare the tarnation out of me,” Grant might’ve said. “Running out of Tennessee whiskey, and running into Lincoln’s wife.” She had a terrific temper. “Emancipation Proclamation?” she shrieked at Abe. “I’ll show you Emancipation Proclamation. Take out the garbage!” … Washington & Lincoln were remarkable figures who seemed committed to doing the right thing & made great sacrifices to do so. We might not be able to remember the exact dates of their birthdays anymore but we can recall enough to wonder, “Why can’t we find anybody like them?” Maybe we have. Mr. Obama, it’s your turn. America is looking for another hero during this very cruel winter.
Bruce Bellingham is also a columnist for the Marina Times and for Media People. He’s the author of Bellingham by the Bay published by Council Oak Books. Because of his restless nature, he’s been described as “peripatetic.” That’s not to be confused with “pathetic.”
###
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