ICompletelyON:
I Love My City, Part #76,942:
Got back a little while from a rare solo evening outing, hopping the train downtown to see juliana's play, a beautifully written and crisply paced comic/sad snippet of the afterlife in mostly black and white, with crows and ravens and sound design by NoiseDesign, in a tiny basement theater up the street from Union Square.
In the lobby, I got my dinner of red wine and Milano cookies and picked up a flier for a woman who does vintage pin-up modeling workshops and also runs an open enrollment burlesque troupe.
The show was a longish one-act but briskly paced and when I got out, it was cold but not bitter out, Union Square was glittering with lights and ringing with the sounds of competing street musicians, and the sidewalks were crowded with a mix of very late theatergoers, tourists, street people, street performers, local chi-chi store staff closing up for the night, dejected Giants fans, and elated A's fans. Everything felt very shiny and bustling and wide awake.
Outside a smoke shop on the corner of Powell a couple blocks up from Market, a two-man band composed of two young white guys, one with guitar and one with drums, was playing an improbably terrific version of "No Woman No Cry." Really, they had no right to be as good as they were. The streetcorner was crowded with tourists and miscellaneous wanderers, including a grandma out and about with her two 6-8ish granddaughters; the girls were dancing deliriously while their grandmother grinned and grinned.
And right in front of the musicians, a middle-aged homeless black man was dancing with a middle-aged Asian woman all dolled up in a black crepe dress with white lace and a long swoopy duster and loads of makeup. They danced together a bit and then she spun out on her own, and he turned to the crowd and did Paul Gross arms and shouted, "She's beautiful! She's alive! She's alive and she knows it!"
Then, right outside the Powell Street station, I stopped a mixed couple (A's/Giants) to ask the final score. "Five to nothing, baby!" the guy shouted gleefully. "But there's still tomorrow!" the woman insisted. "No way! LET'S GO, OAK-LAND!" he bawled, and she threw her head back and blasted right back at him, "LET'S GO, GIIII-ANTS!" And there I left them.
I don't know if it's the City itself or the red wine and Milanos for dinner, but I just want to hug the stuffing out of everyone.