He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.
Few can handle Louis Tomlinson on the dance floor, much less match him in skill and fervor. Louis has obviously met his soul mate; he just never expected him to be wearing a red snapback and to chew gum like an entitled Mercedes owner.
SITTING IN THE window. Sixth Avenue, Greenwich Village, flirting with the girls going by, the Grateful Dead very loud on 4X speakers somewhere in the room behind me; 92 degrees, a week short of summer, a week back from the Coast, San Francisco. Now, three thousand miles away, what do those words mean? Was I ever anywhere but here?
The geography of rock. There are a half-dozen LPs sitting by my New York City phonograph, at least two from San Francisco: Moby Grape and Grateful Dead. Rock Scully, a Dead manager, just walked by; the Grateful Dead are at the Cafe Au Go Go, two blocks from here. The Moby Grape are midtown, playing at the Scene.
We speak of a San Francisco Sound because these groups developed there. They may not come from there (Skip Spence is a Canadian, the Steve Miller Blues Band got together in Chicago); they may not even live there (Moby Grape is technically a Marin County group; Country Joe are #l in Berkeley, but half a dozen local bands get better billing in San Francisco). But San Francisco—the Fillmore, the Avalon, the Trips Festivals, the Diggers, Owsley’s acid, Haight Street and Ashbury and Masonic and Golden Gate Park, the Straight Theatre, Herb Caen, the Barb, the communication company—these have been and are and will be the environment and influences that have shaped the music of many of the best bands in America.
More specifically, the several aspects and influences of the San Francisco area have created a community; out of this community has come a feeling, an attitude; and it is this attitude that has imparted a unity to the music coming out of the Bay Area. It is this attitude that is most commonly reflected in the San Francisco Sound.
There is a geography of rock; San Francisco is different from New York musically, different because the music made by the Grateful Dead would be different if they had developed in New York, playing the Night Owl or Action City, trying to get a master sold, living on East 7th Street and maybe dealing meth for rent money, padlocking their front door and freezing in the winter and worrying about the air and not having children till they can afford the suburbs, reading the New York Times and having maybe two dozen friends that they see once every two months or so, never considering that they might find a manager who wasn’t just an adversary, never thinking that there was much more to it than making the charts, never wondering about the empty girls with too much make-up and an unshakable confidence in this best of all possible nothings… probably hating each other after a while and wondering why people shat on them for doing just what everyone else does.
New York is New York, and it’s very good for some things. The energy it generates is second to none; nowhere in the world is there as much activity to dive into every time you turn around. Some people thrive on that. I do, much of the time, and that’s why I stay here; but I don’t think it’s a place to make music. San Francisco is.
aberryphoto: Icaught this photo of Colin Farrell supporting @Gatepath for their “Power of Possibilities” Event last night in San Francisco. Colin shared his heart-warming experiences of raising a son with special needs. This was a beautiful event by a Great organization, bringing attention to those of us who deserve inclusion and respect. It was refreshing to see that someone with such a powerful platform such as Colin’s can be such a empathic, generous and socially responsible person.. Our world needs more of Mr. Farrell and more of Gatepath! #POP2017#colinfarrell
I’d like to write poetry about how adventure by your side would be- the cool ocean breeze at our fingertips and the misty mountains at our backs. I’d like to write about tent camping, fires that won’t start and hiking that leaves us hot and sweaty. Instead, I’ll write about the less exciting, more realistic version of us. You are my good mornings filled with lazy smiles, heavy eyes and bags that hang like sad tired curtains. I’ll write about our awful messy buns, bad breath and mumbled hellos. I want days filled with you in the most boring and simplistic way. I want coffee breath, fighting over the bathroom sink, and hurried kisses before heading to work. I want mid-day lunch breaks where all I can think of is if I turned off the coffee pot and straightener that morning. I’ll anxiously call you and before even saying hello. I’ll call and immediately say “babe do you remember if the straightener is off?” you’ll pause for a moment and laugh at how forgetful I have always been; but you’ll always reassure me that you somehow remembered. I want rainy days with you where we are so tempted to play hooky and lay in bed all day. I want rainy days when sad music plays in rhythm to the raindrops falling on our windowsill. I want the cold bitter grey that reminds us life isn’t always bright and sunny. I want the days where I wake up on the wrong side of the bed and maybe you will too, we’ll bicker like an old married couple and argue over who must take out the trash and feed our animals. I want those small arguments where we get so caught up in the moment we don’t realize we’re being dramatic. I want to fight over small things like hair tie brands and what type of make-up works better. I want to laugh with you after those fights when we finally realize it’s okay to have differences, but 5 minutes later we will continue bickering about something new. When I’m driving, you’ll tell me to stop being so reckless and we’ll flip through the radio stations faster than the speed of my ADHD. I’ll sing along to the lamest songs and you’ll always make fun of me, just like you always have. I want the fights and arguments over which video game we’ll end up playing. “Don’t mod your character that way, you’ll fuck us up when we get to the higher ranks” I can already picture gaming with you in twenty years when we’re both 40 and old but still screaming like the crazy kids we were at 22 and 23. I want days that drag on and never seem to end because I know you’re the one I’m going to come home to. I want the delirious laughter at 2am when we’ve stayed up way too late planning our next big trip together and somehow ended up building a bed-sheet fort in our living room. I want to cook French toast for you when its 1:30 am and you’re already ready for bed but the craving just won’t go away. I want clumsy kitchen dates where we both end up fighting over who is going to prep the vegetables and who will clean up the mess we’ve begun making. I want dates to the animal shelter with your hand in mine. I will never be ashamed of you in public, no matter where we live. If our home is in the deep south or the heart of San Francisco I will always hold your hand if you want me to. I want coffee dates where we forget that we’re with each other because we’re both so overwhelmed with work and school. I want days that seem to stretch forever and the days that seem as short as a few hours. I want it all. The good days where you feel beautiful but also all of the days where you want to hide away from the world and shut everything out, even me. I want a place to call home with you, but if we don’t have that I hope you know you’ll always be my home. Sure, adventure sounds nice but even if we lived the most simplistic little life everything with you is always an adventure. Let’s scale a mountain…. Of paper work and over due bills, lets cry together when things get hard, and lets never go to bed angry. Let’s go camping across the world, or just in our backyard. Let’s backpack through foreign countries or just stay at home and watch movies about backpacking. I don’t need an extravagant life filled with endless travel, I need you by my side and I promise that you will always be a big enough adventure for me.
🎀Thank you all for coming at our Angelic Pretty San Francisco/ Harajuku Hearts Valentine’s Day Tea Party!!! ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ 🎀 It was so much fun and we’re glad to see new faces joining us today! Looking forward to the next event!!! ☕️💖💖💖
continues Maya Angelou’s personal story,
begun so unforgettably in I
Know Why the Caged Bird Sings…Maya Angelou, still in her teens, has given
birth to a son. But the next few years are difficult ones as she tries to find
a place in the world for herself and her child.
in this third self-contained volume of
her autobiography…Maya Angelou moves into the adult world. Maya struggles to
support herself and her son through a series of odd jobs and weathers a failed
marriage to a white man before landing a gig singing in one of the most popular
nightclubs on the San Francisco coast.
Heart of a Woman, Maya Angelou leaves California with her son, Guy, to move
to New York. There she enters the society and world of black artists and
writers, reads her work at the Harlem Writers Guild, and begins to take part in
the struggle of black Americans for their rightful place in the world
in 1962 the poet, musician, and performer
Maya Angelou claimed another piece of her identity by moving to Ghana, joining
a community of “Revolutionist Returnees” inspired by the promise of
pan-Africanism…lyrical and acutely perceptive exploration of what it means to
be an African American on the mother continent, where color no longer matters
but where American-ness keeps asserting itself in ways both puzzling and
opens as Maya Angelou returns from Africa
to the United States to work with Malcolm X. But first she has to journey to
California to be reunited with her mother and brother. No sooner does she
arrive there than she learns that Malcolm X has been assassinated.
Scientists and science advocates are expected to fill the streets of more than 500 cities across the world on Saturday in support of scientific research, which they feel has increasingly come under attack, especially during the Trump administration.
Since its inception in late January, the March for Science has transformed from a grass-roots social media campaign into a bona fide force of scientific advocacy, attracting support from more than 220 official science organizations. But the marchers and the activists who organized them will soon have to address what follows the demonstrations. In addition to channeling the energy they’ve built, they will also need to contend with tensions that have emerged within the scientific community over this political turn.
“We have no intention of letting this stop after April 22,” said Dr. Caroline Weinberg, a public health researcher and co-chairwoman of the march. “I will have considered it pretty much a failure if after April 22 all of this movement and all of this passion dissipates.”
Most eyes will be on Washington, where the main march will occur. But there will also be rallies in medical hubs like Boston, technology centers like San Francisco and even in the heart of oil and gas country, Oklahoma City. The strength of these satellite events could be important indicators of where the activism generated by the march will head in the future.