Pink Thunder

Letter from Sausalito

(This was written a couple of weeks ago. Sorry to just be posting it!)

It's another gorgeous morning here. I'm writing to you from the top of the ferry. It's a chilly am but it's so pretty, this particular sunrise, that I am drawn closer to it. I am forced to resort to cliches to describe this place. Sometimes my heart is in my mouth just looking out my bedroom window in the am, brushing my teeth. Because it's just so goddamn drop-dead beautiful.

Today, there was a full arching rainbow over Sausalito. One of the ferrymen pointed it out to us. You had to face away from the boat on the dock to see it. The ferrymen are super-nice. We all say good morning to each other. The day after I left my beige sparkly scarf on the ferry, nearly every giant cuddly teddy bear ferryman (which they all are) told me about it. Regina the barkeeper had rolled it up, put it in a ziploc bag and carried it home with her to give me the next day. The ferry people look out for the commuters, the regulars. 

I've started to make friends in the ferry. there's a real culture here. More on that later.

It's been challenging to blog much since I got here. I still feel like I am in an adjustment or acclimatization phase. The culture of the Bay Area is unique and I compare it to moving from DC to London. People speak English here but that's where the similarities to where I came from, where I grew up and lived most of my life, end.

The good news is that visiting San Francisco is like a kiss. Living here is like an orgasm. Literally. I stopped on Chestnut to get a couple of chocolates after a tough Sun afternoon shopping. The guy who gave it to me was so amiable, very gay, super-handsome (I think he was gay?). We chatted for quite a bit about handmade artisanal chocolates. People in SF love to talk at length about food and how it makes them feel. People feel a lot here. I saved the box until I got to the car. I opened it while driving, enjoying the sound of the orange tissue paper crinkling and the sparkles thrown around the car by the paper's holographic dots.

I took a bite out of one of the complicated little morsels. And to spare you the details, I  actually considered pulling over because of the overwhelming sense of pleasure erupting throughout my being. I drove slowly and managed to pull myself together by the time I hit Chestnut and Van Ness. I told this story at a dinner party and was grilled intently by all the women as to the location and specific chocolate I had (I can't remember. It had a complicated and sassy name. That was also Flemish possibly).

Life is good here. People are nice here. And sad or unhappy people stick out. Fortunately, I am very much at home here because overall I am happy. i find that folks here tend to exaggerate those experiences which are challenging about living here and to downplay those things that are simply unbelievable about living here. Which is interesting. I get the sense there are a lot of people here like me who had less than ideal childhoods or young adulthoods who are determined, by God, to be as happy as possible going forward. And are, as a metropolitan area, are largely successful. Overall, people are prosperous here, have interesting occupations available to them, enjoy great, healthy lifestyles and ridiculously delicious food everywhere. I had a blueberry muffin on the ferry that almost made me cry, it was so unexpectedly yummy. And I was so hungry and grateful that it didn't taste like it had been baked under someone's armpit.

I regret giving away so many of my crazy clothes, because they would totally have worked here. The good news is that I have to buy new outfits for work and for play. I have long conversations with people about my hair and how it makes them feel. I like those conversations and am always so grateful to have them.

The bad news is that I am working really hard. 10 hour days at work often with 2-3 more at home. (sigh) Hopefully it's temporary. I don't mind working hard. But I am so excited to be here that I want to explore all that the Bay area has to offer and build new (and old) relationships with the lovely, generous, open, creative, adventurous, sophisticated people who live here.

The Perfect Lipstick

So you may have noticed that red lips for women are very passe right now. It's all about nude, natural shades. I have worn some kind of berry or brown or red lip shade forever. I started experimenting recently with new looks, however. The first was a different shade of Burt's Bees: papaya. Total disaster. Turned my lips some kind of frosted orange in daylight (it was ok inside).

Then I found a nice shade of Boots lipgloss at Target. Target rocks. I can't believe they carry the British brand in their stores. I used to fly to London every so often for work. If I had time before my flight back to the States, I would always hit a pharmacy to pick up some Boots on my way back.

The Boots lipcolor was a nice champagne-y shade with a little shimmer. Yet I needed something a bit more sophisticated. And with a touch more pink or red in it.

Then I saw Aishwarya Rai. First it was in the gossip blogs. Aish is a big Bollywood star who just married one of her frequent co-stars, a major star in his own right and the son of one of Bollywood's iconic actors. Kind of the Angelina Jolie/Brad Pitt of India and diaspora. Then at CVS, purveyor of many marvelous things, I saw her again, in a display for L'Oreal Star Secrets Colour Riche Lipstick. She was blowing a kiss and puckering for the camera. Her skin tone was almost exactly the same as mine. AND she was wearing the lip color I craved! She says it's the perfect beige. And I agree.

It's beige with just enough rose and glimmer in it. Sadly it does not smell like pineapple (Boots) or peppermint (Burt's Bees). That notwithstanding, everytime I put it on in the am or refresh it in the afternoon, I feel like a Bollywood princess readying for my closeup. It's my little make-believe. People actually do a double-check on my lips. I've noticed colleagues copying my shade (you know who you are). I've been told my lipstick is fabulous.

I can't take any credit though. I owe it all to Aish. I can only dream of the day when my own signature written in gold adorns the lipstick cases of naturally honey-colored women around the world. Here on Oprah, you can see her wearing the shade, which is modestly and simply named: "Beige."

Oprah: I think you're gorgeous. When you look at yourself, do you see that?

Aishwarya: To me, beautiful is as beautiful does. I think that's what speaks volumes. It isn't about the apparent gig. It's about what you do.

I know companies are tracking what people say about their products in blogs so I just had to give a shoutout to the perfect lipstick. What can I say -- I'm girlie like that.

Live Music!

I just got a message that my friend Alison Crockett is releasing a new album! Alison and I have been tight friends ever since I found myself a new and bewildered scholarship kid at a fancy prep school in the 7th grade. Alison's parents were both doctors and she'd been at Sidwell forever and knew the ropes. I'm lucky to have her as a friend still.

We don't talk about her music that much but instead about what's going on in our lives, the world, our spiritual musings and so on. For example, we last talked for 2 hours about the challenge she faces raising a child who is most likely a genius and before that it was this crazy adventure she had going back to Tokyo on tour. So it was through the Sidwell Friends pipeline that I got this forwarded message from her to her fans:

Just writing to you to give you the heads up:  Bare, my new record is 
coming out and I'm listening to the mixes right now actually.  To 
give you a little taste of what's happening, goto my myspace page at 
myspace.com/alisoncrockett and you'll see new pics and get a taste of 
the record.  I'll put up a new single from the record a little at a 
time; don't want you to get tired of the record before you get it....

For those of you who are going to be in DC in May, I'll be playing at  Bin 1700 in Arlington VA on May 11.  I'll give you some additional  info in a bit.

The song Crossroads playing is groovy and hypnotic. She's most famous for her club/dance/house music work, I think, in Europe and Japan. Her first love has always been jazz. Alison also has a cool website. I've always considered Alison one of my unofficial spiritual teachers. She's very wise and I think you can hear that in the lyrics of her songs.

Another musical friend is playing tonight at Busboys and Poets. Ben Crandall's new band MOTEL is on tonight. Both Ben and his girlfriend Heather are really talented musicians. Unlike Alison and her jazz saxophonist husband Rob, I think Ben and Heather play quite different kinds of music. Ben's also quite evolved and his music connects with people at a pretty high level. Here's the info from Ben sent via email today:

Greetings Music Lovers,

I'm playing at Busboys & Poets TONIGHT with the hiphop/jazz experiment, MOTEL PROJECT (www.welcometomotel.com).   If you haven't heard us yet, you've got to check it out.

Where: Busboys and Poets, 2021 14th St. NW, WDC
When: TONIGHT, April 25, 9-11 PM
Cost at the Door:  $7.50

Hope you can make it.

Peace,
Benjamin

Getting Ready to Snowboard

So thanks to my friend A, I now have the super-cutest snowboard gear ever. A was awesome. She went with me all the way out to Ski Chalet. Actually everyone has been great. All the people at Ski Chalet out in Gaithersburg were totally rooting for me. A really nice lady getting stuff for her daughter helped me while A was trying on pants of her own. I tried on one pair of houndstooth (pink, sage and grey) and she told me they looked really good. Then I tried on a pair of pink on pink plaid pants. They had some cool silver hip hop chains hanging down. The lady said -- the first pair looked good, but these look better. She was so supportive.

A was so great. She steered me away from one brand (Walker?) toward Burton. Which is the cool brand. She also labeled some of the clothes what European seniors are into. Just so I'd be emotionally prepared. She helped me pick out clothes that would be neither dorky nor poseur, although I wish she'd let me get that cute cocoa brown mohair hat. She said it was too fancy and steered me toward something more bohemian. Along with A, I've gotten some great  advice from people, including:

• getting a private instructor when in Austria
• considering not going on the mountain and trying a 10 degree incline first
• using volleyball kneepads and gloves with wristguards to protect myself
• putting on double layers of longjohns
• using extra blush to look windburned at happy hour

Snowboarding sounds a little more dangerous and athletic than I anticipated. But I am not scared. Yet. I am still excited. After all, I have my very own ski goggle now (is that what it's called?) Thanks to everyone who has helped encourage me to try something really new (for me) and who have shared some of their experiences both good and bad with me. If you have any advice for me, please let me know. I leave in early March! Woo hoo!

Ok, it's true

I secretly love snow. I think it's beautiful. Every year, I confess that I pick at least one snowball fight with the kids who live in the warm, friendly yet crackhouse-y rundown apt building next door. They usually win.

One of my earliest memories -- like top ten -- involves snow. It was kindergarten and the first snowfall of the year. Our teacher Mrs. Groff was keen on teaching us about the weather. So this was a very special weather event. In twos, we were each given a black piece of construction paper and told to try to catch a snowflake. Each snowflake is different, you see. No two are alike. We could also catch snow on our tongues. When my turn came with my boyfriend Stevie, boy if you could only bottle that level of pumped-up yet breathless excitement. It was like screaming silently on the inside. In a good way. It was over far too soon and we had to let some other kids have a chance. I've never forgetten it though.

Then there was the blizzard of 1978. In one night it snowed 2 and a half feet. In DC no one had seen anything like it before -- or since. Everything, including the federal gov't, shut down for over a week. It remained cold so the snow didn't melt. No one went anywhere. My well-educated parents were totally freaked out, but my little brother and I were so excited and fascinated with nature's gift. We were so little that we could barely see above the snow. Perhaps we were too young to be scared.

We built snow caves and snow tunnels and snowmen and snow fortresses and snow castles and got sleds from the neighbors and everything. Our friends Rosie, Tommy, Billy and Frederick came over. We went on a daring expedition to the frozen forest and its big creek behind Rosie's house. It was awesome.

My other favorite snow memory is freshman year at college. One of my 5 roommates was from California. As we peered out our common room windows at the thick, flakey Connecticut snow, Ricki told me she'd never seen snow before. "Never?" I said. "Well come on!" I grabbed her hand and down five flights of ancient stone stairs we flew until we were out on the Old Campus green. It was still early so there were few people out and about. Still holding her hand, I showed Ricki how to catch snowflakes on her tongue. Finally, I heard screeching -- "Ooooo!" she jumped up and down with joy. "I caught one!"

Then I said, "Ok, now close your eyes and don't think about anything. Just let the snow fall on your face." And we did.

Conquering Cowardice and Hypocrisy 1 Ski Trip At a Time

So a bunch of really fun friends are going skiing in Schladming Austria. I've only been on 1 ski trip before and I didn't ski. I went hiking with another non-ski bunny which was actually quite nice. We had the kind of long, intimate exploration of our lives one doesn't always get.

Like many black people, I am slightly fearful of snow -- white frozen matter falling from the sky. Where does it come from and why? If you are wondering why DC freaks out whenever it snows and deals with it so bizarrely (people can't drive, schools and sometimes the federal gov't close, etc), well, let's just say that's one of African-Americans' socio-cultural gifts to the rest of the city. Like I said -- fear is contagious.

I've never been to Austria before so that sounds like fun. (Been to Germany many times) You have to join the DC Ski Club to go. At first I said, well, I'll just take the Pearl and while everyone else is skiing, I will relax, walk, read, go to the spa, do yoga and tai chi sword and just meet up for the dinners and parties at night. Maybe do a day trip to Vienna or Salzburg.

Then I got to thinking, boy what a chicken -- who joins a ski club and doesn't even try to learn to ski? And what better place to learn a winter sport than the Alps? I've heard that if you give it 2 good, full days, you'll feel like you've had the crap beaten out of you but you'll know how to snowboard. So that's what I am going to do. My friends have kindly offered to tell me what gear I need to scrounge up somewhere. 

It's easy to look at someone like me and say -- wow, that's brave. You will be the only black person on those mountains for 10 or 20 sq miles. And you don't know how to ski. Not a problem. That kind of thing doesn't faze me. Also, a friend from Puerto Rico is going and we will be able to share our fear and horror of the white stuff together. Also few people know that James Baldwin spent some time in the Austrian Alps for a winter to get away from Paris. He wrote Go Tell It On The Mountain there. (I think). Perhaps I'll have a spark of creative thought. Also little known is that Tina Turner has had a strapping German boyfriend about 15 or so years younger than her for the past 20 years or so. Post-Ike. She lives in Cologne for part of each year.

People say sometimes -- oh PT, you don't really care what other people think. And while it's true that you may find me moving the furniture in the Sporthotel Schladming's solarium or whatever in order to get some sword practice, that's easy. How more difficult to be willing to look foolish and awkward in front of my friends. To admit I need help to learn something new and to understand a different type of recreation than what I'm used to.

It's not til March. So I have some more time to practice recognizing/conquering my own cowardice and hypocrisy... I'll keep you posted.

MBT Shoes

So a forward-thinking friend with a black belt in crazy introduced me to these crazy shoes called MBT -- Masai Barefoot Technology. They were invented by a German who had back problems and admired the posture and gait of the Masai tribe. I get lower back tension like a lot of desk jockeys, but I mostly work that out through yoga. The appeal to me was my friend's insistence that the effect of the shoes was to create the same challenge of walking through sand or soft dirt barefoot. It works your legs and your core while you walk. I walk to the metro and back for work about 10-15 minutes each way for exercise so anything that might make that more productive time is appreciated.

The shoes are apparently quite popular in Europe and on the West Coast.

You can't buy these online -- you really need to be fitted since they are in European sizes. Ladies -- they *will* make your feet look big. No way around it. They have a funny looking and quite thick sole. Still, I definitely feel them working after maybe only 5 or 10 min. They were great walking around this weekend. Standing still, you are always balancing a bit so it's like a mini-calorie burner.

My brother is really into fitness, so I've recommended them to him. My mom noticed them this weekend and wants a pair for Xmas. They are a little pricey -- but at what price good health I say? Also, they are conversation starters in general, which is fun.

There are styles that look almost like normal athletic shoes or casual wear. I chose to go nuts and take the red and white hip hop pair. The salesman at Comfort Zone was like: that's cool because most people don't go for the more "wild" styles. To which I replied: I guess I'm just ghetto like that. Anyway, it's worth it to try them on at least. My prediction is that we will see some competitors to MBT in the next few years until finally Nike or Adidas or New Balance makes a pair.

On Lipstick and Experience

So I was having lunch with my fly and fabulous mother recently after a shopping excursion. After eating, naturally it was time to re-apply lipstick. I pulled out my Etienne Aigner blue leather and gold tone compact that my grandmother gave me. (Sadly, I think I might have lost the other compact she gave me that was silver, heart-shaped with pink leather and an orange leather C inlay-stitched in the middle that she also gave me. So very sad.)

I saw my mother applying without one and with a gesture, offered her mine.

She cocked an eyebrow at me and said, crisply amused:

"I don't need that. I know where my lips are!"

Stung, I bent my head and started laughing, peering back up at it from behind the compact while finishing my touchup.

"It's true -- I don't know where my lips are, OK? Are you satisfied?!"

She said nothing, but stroked her upper lip with perfect confidence. The bronze cap of her lipstick slid on and closed with a quiet, elegant snap as she regarded me, bemused, from the superior height of wisdom and experience...

Vegetarian Vindication

I actually clocked this concept some time ago. Preventing heart disease is the main reason I personally became a vegetarian some years ago. It's not really news but I think this is one of the larger, longer-term studies to show this -- and to pit a vegetarian diet against South Beach, Zone and Atkins. Low carb and low fat isn't bad for you. If you want to maybe not have that heart attack at age 60, though, it might not help you as much as a no or low meat regimen. From the Wash Post:

Women who eat a diet moderately low in carbohydrates, but rich in vegetable fat and vegetable protein, can cut their risk of heart disease by as much as 30 percent compared with just following a low-fat approach, according to a new Harvard study.

The findings, drawn from a study of more than 80,000 nurses, reinforce a growing shift in nutritional advice toward moderate amounts of healthful fat found in such foods as nuts, avocados, liquid vegetable oils and seafood along with less-processed carbohydrates, including whole-grain bread and cereal and fruits and vegetables.

The good news -- some fat is ok. Everything in moderation. The Aristotelian Mean still holds, after all these years.

But the mean relative to us cannot be found in this way. If ten pounds of food is too much for a given man to eat, and two pounds too little, it does not follow that the trainer will order him six pounds: for that also may perhaps be too much for the man in question, or too little; too little for Milo, too much for the beginner. The same holds true in running and wrestling.

And so we may say generally that a master in any art avoids what is too much and what is too little, and seeks for the mean and chooses it—not the absolute but the relative mean. -- Aristotle

Milo was a famous Athenian athlete of the day. Think Shaq for a translation to our time.

The truth is that I will probably some day eating no wheat, no dairy, raw food, vegan style. It is possibly inevitable. I am Not. Ready.Yet. though for this. Maybe someday. Could be fun. I bought some spelt bread the other day at my local coop and it's seriously yummy. That's the way to live healthy and happy forever and still be up for say, scuba diving off Irian Jaya, Indonesia at say, 77 yrs. old with your honey. (I know someone who's actually going off to do just that.)

My Big Fat Jewish Wedding with the Pope and Jean Genet

UPDATE: Ok, so the wedding was neither big nor was it particularly traditional. But it was a great wedding. Call me a romantic, but I think people should publicly proclaim their love for each other, for friends, for family, etc. and dance a lot with all of the above much more often.

Also: the Pope, despite rumors and wishful thinking from my mother and grandmother was not in attendence Sun. However, the renovated Baltimore Basilica is super-beautiful. Designed by Benjamin Latrobe as a pro bono project, it was architectually the most advanced building in America when it was built and the only larger structure at the time was the U.S. Capitol (also designed by Latrobe). The interior has been restored to Latrobe's original dramatic color and natural lighting scheme. Plus the Historic Trust realized Latrobe's original vision of a more intimate undercroft chapel that is reminiscent perhaps of how the first Christians worshiped.

If you are interested in early American neo-classical architecture, it's really a must-see. It's sort of like Latrobe's super-pastel frosted birthday cake for God. In a good way. In a modest, egalitarian, Enlightenment era sort of way. If you're in downtown Baltimore or the Mount Vernon area, check it out.

*******

It's not my wedding, silly -- that seems distant and perhaps unlikely at this point. It's a family friend's wedding to his Jewish bride. Despite having many Jewish friends over the course of my childhood, adolescence and adulthood, I confess that I have never before attended a straight-up, traditional Jewish wedding. Most of my Jewish friends have either shacked up with a "goy" and/or had decidedly non-traditional weddings. (I'm not going to name names. You know who you are!)

I have been assured that glasses will be crushed underfoot, chairs raised, full-on chuppa holding, extra-long/extra-booty shaking Hava Negila dance, etc. The groom's family -- my adopted extended family -- are lovely, shy, reserved, liberal and WASPish. Cultures may joyously collide. And there I'll be in the middle of it all. To which I say -- Bring it on.

The very next day, I am invited with my mother and grandmother to an invitation-only ceremony/reception to celebrate the renovation and re-opening of Baltimore's Basilica. It is rumored that there will be high security and that an "extra-special guest" will be in attendence. There will be the highest possible level of Catholic pomp and circumstance. And probably a lot of incense thrown around in the air. Don't ask how we got tickets. I'm just along for the ride.

Then next Wed, I am invited with my cousin, a denizen of the dance world, to attend what sounds like a real corker of entertainment. Here's the description she sent me:

As two of today's most renowned dancers/choreographers, French West Africa's Koffi Kôkô and Brazil's Ismael Ivo join Ziya Azazi--a Turkish master of the whirling dervish tradition--and Japanese director Yoshi Oida to form a multicultural team of dance/theater visionaries. Together, they've created a riveting re-imagining of The Maids, French playwright Jean Genet's gender-bending classic about two servants and their wealthy mistress.

In Saint Genet l'Africain, Kôkô and Ivo portray prison inmates who act out their deepest fantasies in separate cells. Under the watchful eye of an eccentric warden, played by Azazi, their stylized game of dominance and submission soon turns deadly. A longtime collaborator with experimental theater genius Peter Brook, Oida draws upon tribal rituals and Asian aesthetics--also found in Martha Graham's dance-making--to explore concepts of eroticism and confinement. The fluctuations of mood, from delight to revulsion to horror, are accentuated by Brazilian artist João de Bruço, who performs his entrancing, percussive score with other musicians onstage.

"Conviction and intensity… a gripping performance"
--London's The Independent

"Compelling… Martha Graham's influence lives on."
--London's The Observer

Is your mouth agape? So was mine. Wow. Can this performance possibly deliver even a fraction of what it promises? I can't wait! Again, I say: Bring on the cultural extravaganza. I guess I am lucky -- I have the coolest family (and friends) ever. Love, Pink Thunder