Radio interview, and details about my visit to the Pacific Northwest this week --- without smelly pack

If you are in the Bellingham, Washington area, and happen to be awake on the early side, switch on your radio and listen in on my brief live interview on KGMI at 7:15 AM PST. Immediately after the interview, I will board a plane and fly up to one of my very favorite places in America, the Pacific Northwest, where my "Cactus'' tour will begin. However, I will most likely leave my backpack behind because he's picked up a terrible odor from my last outdoor sojourn in the Southeast. (bear scat? Whatever it is, it won't go away.) Anyhow, I'm looking forward to meeting readers and hikers up there. Many of the loveliest sections of the PCT are right there--- Crater Lake, the Goat Rocks, the Pasayten Wilderness. The list goes on and on. Out in the Pacific Northwest, I ate too many huckleberries, stomped through pumice flats, and stayed at an absurdly cheap, now-non-existent bed and breakfast in Snoqualmie Pass. (If you were a Pacific Crest Trail hiker, they would let you stay there for about eleven bucks a day. No kidding.) I also spent some time in gorgeous Stehekin, Washington, where I ruffled a few feathers by eating an entire pie during a slide presentation about mountain goats. Anyhow, I look forward to meeting you all up there. I will read from my book, answer questions, and share a couple of trail artifacts. Feel free to shoot me an email if you have any questions about the readings or would like to stop by and say hello. I only wish I had more time so I could visit my favorite hiking spots. (oh well; maybe next time!)

Date & Time Location

June 4, 2008
6:45 p.m.
VILLAGE BOOKS
1200 Eleventh Street
Bellingham, WA 98225

June 5, 2008
6:30 PM SEATTLE PUBLIC LIBRARY
Ballard Branch
5614 22nd Ave. NW
Seattle, WA 98107
(this event is being sponsored by the Secret Garden bookstore)

June 6, 2008
7:00 PM BARNES & NOBLE
12000 SE 82nd Avenue
Portland, OR 97266

Also -- it was great to speak with another Pacific Northwest resident this week -- Lisa Haneberg --- who has posted her 'fireside chat' podcast interview with me about "Cactus'' on her popular site, Managementcraft. Here is that link:

http://managementcraft.typepad.com/management_craft/2008/06/fireside-chat-w.html

Aside from my reading events, I will be doing a taped in-studio interview on Evergreen Radio in Seattle on Thursday, June 5, at 3:45 p.m.

Interview with Little Clay Pig

And this just in --- a good talk with influential lit blogger Little Clay Pig, right here in San Francisco. Actually, you should read that blog regularly; it's a good one.

Little Clay Pig

By the way, this week I will figure out a way to put in clickable links for my readers. Sorry about that. What can I say? I am a total Luddite. Also, if you happen to be a reader of the Chicago Tribune, Hartford Courant and NY Newsday, look for the LA Times review, which is reappearing in various places. Also, I had a really good podcast talk with the author Lisa Haneberg this week. I will include the link to that podcast at some point next week.

This just in: Good Times, Santa Cruz

here is the link to the story by Christa Martin. Don't be scared by my huge, staring eyeball in the picture!!!!

http://www.gtweekly.com/a-e/the-lois-and-clark-expedition-1

Haight Ashbury poultrygeist

Hi everyone. Sorry I've barely blogged lately. The reason is total exhaustion, on account of a very loud, annoying rooster that has been keeping me up at night. A number of months ago, I mentioned the fact that this tin-eared, crazy chicken moved into my Haight Ashbury neighborhood. For months at a time, he was so dead-quiet, I figured his owners got sick of his racket and made capons out of him. No such luck. The rooster is back in action now, and he's driving me batty. All day long he makes the same loud, horrible noises -- "Muck-muck-magooooooooo!'' I hope the chicken calms down soon. Until then, I'll do all my writing down at the Mission Creek Cafe.

The Cactus Eaters: Readings and travels

Here is the most updated list. Stop by and say hello. I look forward to meeting all of you.


Date & Time Location

June 4, 2008
7:00 PM
VILLAGE BOOKS
1200 Eleventh Street
Bellingham, WA 98225

June 5, 2008
6:30 PM SEATTLE PUBLIC LIBRARY
Ballard Branch
5614 22nd Ave. NW
Seattle, WA 98107

June 6, 2008
7:00 PM BARNES & NOBLE
12000 SE 82nd Avenue
Portland, OR 97266


June 9th, 2007
"Cover to Cover”/KPFA-FM
Berkeley, CA
3:00 – 3:30 PM

June 19, 2008
In-studio interview
KFOG-- San Francisco
7:30-8 AM

June 19, 2008
7:30 PM CAPITOLA BOOK CAFÉ
1475 41st Avenue
Capitola, CA 95010

June 26, 2008
7:30 PM MRS. DALLOWAY
2904 College Avenue
Berkeley, CA 94705

June 29, 2008
1:30 p.m. - 3:30 p.m.
"First Author, First Book" panel discussion.
Anaheim Convention Center, Room 203 A
Authors include Kaya McLaren (Church of the Dog, Penguin), Scott Douglas (Quiet, Please, Perseus Books), Mark Sarvas (Harry, Revised, Bloomsbury USA), Daniel White (The Cactus Eaters: How I Lost My Mind—and Almost Found Myself—on the Pacific Crest Trail, HarperCollins), Janelle Brown (All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, Spiegel & Grau), and Anya Ulinich (Petropolis, Penguin). A book signing will follow.



June 30th, 2008
2-2:30 p.m., book reading and signing.
ALA Convention,
Anaheim Convention Center. Room TBA.

July 1, 2008
2 p.m.
Malaga Cove Library
Palos Verdes Estates, CA.(PV is my hometown. This was my childhood library.)


July 12, 2008
4:00 PM BOOK PASSAGE
51 Tamal Vista Blvd
Corte Madera, CA 94925

July 15, 2008
12:30 PM STACEY’S BOOKSTORE
581 Market ST
San Francisco, CA 94105
*Joint Event with Vincent Carrella, author of "Serpent Box.''

September 24, 2008
730-830 p.m.
2008-2009 Creative Writing Reading Series
Saint Mary’s College of California.
Moraga, CA.

November 2008: date to be announced
reading/reception at San Jose State University

The Kerouac pigeons

Do you ever have one of those days that is luminous and wonderful one moment and grim (and rather disgusting) the next? Just the other day, I was in North Beach, and I stopped by City Lights books. They had one rather lonely-looking copy of "Cactus,'' so I signed it, which was fun, considering that City Lights is the land of Ferlinghetti and The Beats. The City Lights staff was very nice about it. They put it back on the shelf with a little sticker saying "Signed By The Author.' Moments later, I was walking with Amy down Columbus, and an enormous group of pigeons, straight out of Hitchcock, swooped down and voided themselves all over us -- a tidal wave of voiding, and it covered both of us from head to toe. We tried to run but the pigeons closed in on us and kept bombing away. Wham, wham, wham. Passersby stopped and stared. Amy insists that this incident was "good luck'' and "a very good sign.'' She even joked that it was some kind of ectoplasmic shout-out from beyond the grave by Kerouac himself. I think my dry cleaner will disagree.

The Cactus Eaters is now available nationwide

So the doomsday clock on my author's web page has stopped ticking. That can only mean one thing; my book is now in bookstores all over the place. My pal, James, (who happens to be a character in the book) wrote in to let me know that he got "Cactus'' in Minneapolis just the other day. It was pretty surreal to see a nice big bunch of them in my neighborhood bookstore up here in the Upper Haight. Today, I walked into the store and decorated them all with rubber stamps dipped in bright green archival ink. I also signed them. Anyhow, if you run into me at some point, I would really like to sign and stamp your book or books. In fact, I will sign just about anything, except for a blank check. Make sure to specify "lizard, snake, or longhorn steer skull'' before I stamp it. Otherwise, I'll pick the creature for you and you'll have to accept my choice.

On KPFA FM

This is extremely short notice, I realize, (as a matter of fact, I'm giving you a roughly four and a half minute notice, to be precise) but if you happen to be in the Ventura County/Santa Barbara area, the NPR affiliate is doing an interview with me today at 1:06 p.m.

Back from the backwoods

I had a fantastic time in the Southeast --- I heard my first whipporwil, heard a black bear snort (very close by!), met a bunch of great people, went to a Bourbon tasting and explored some of the greenest, steepest backcountry I've ever seen. On the downside, I got a bit turned around up there in the wilderness. I had a close encounter with some kind of invasive rose-bush-like plant; both of my legs have red, crosshatching scrapes all across them. My next order of business is to beef up my backcountry survival skills. I'm hoping to enroll in an intensive orienteering course this summer as soon as i can find an open patch in my schedule.

Off to the forest

Friends and family --- after I file this, I'm heading out the door and flying out to the Southeastern backwoods, which means that I will be kind of hard to reach for the next three days or so. I'm bringing lots of MREs and a spanking-new seven-dollar nickel-plated compass that I just bought from Robert's Hardware in Haight Ashbury. I'm in good hands. By the way, this is probably my last ramble ever with Big Mofo, my trusty -- and enormous --- backpack dating from the PCT. He's covered with mouse bites and duct tape, the zippers barely function and the hinges are almost rusted out. The time has come for an upgrade.

Someone outbid me on the "cactus-shaped rubber stamp'' listed on Ebay

Mr. Big Bucks, I hope you're happy. I had my sights on that attractive little cactus-shaped rubber stamp on eBay. It was going to be one of my promotional gimmicks, and now it's gone --- all because of you. The bidding war was ferocious. I lay down $4.50. You upped the ante to five bucks. The next thing you know, you jacked up the price to $6.50. Whoever you are, you are shameless.

In the footsteps of Daniel Boone

I'm heading off to the Cumberland Gap for a while. I will be going on a journey through a remote forest full of elk, sandstone cliffs and wild ginseng. I'll see you all when I get back. (just so you know, I'm bringing plenty of water this time, and the trail is not that long. Seriously.)

Radio Cactus

Here is the link to my radio performance on KQED Writer's Block. I had fun doing this.


http://www.kqed.org/arts/writersblock/

In Ruins

A few months back, I mentioned an eventful journey that I took (in a four-wheel-drive vehicle) up a scary dirt road into a remote canyon filled with fascinating Fremont-era ruins in Utah. If you're interested, my article on this subject (with color photos) appears in this month's Backpacker, which is now in bookstores and news stands. Check out the pictures of those spooky petroglyphs -- and, if you have a chance, make your way out to Range Creek and see them for yourself. It's well worth the trip.

KQED Writer's Block

I had a great time going into the KQED studio and recording a scary section of "Cactus'' for radio broadcast. It will be podcast a few weeks from now, and when it's available, I'll post the link right here. Stay tuned.

"Cactus Eaters Kids" -- my coloring book

My nieces have expressed strong interest in my book. This is a problem, because there are a lot of bad words (!) and some scary situations in this book. To solve the problem, I've decided to create a "clean version'' of the project called "Cactus Eaters Kids'' I'm editing out all of the swearing and most of the disturbing situations. It will be about 20 pages long (give or take a couple of pages.) I expect to finish it and distribute it to my family and friends in about three weeks. It will include many pictures of cacti and mostly harmless fauna.

Who wants to go backpacking with me?

As part of my book tour, I will (apparently) be leading at least one hike into the woods. All I can say is, bring plenty of water. Also, proceed at your own risk. But seriously, if this happens, I will be very careful not to stray too far from civilization. Also, I promise to do a careful head count to make sure that no one gets left behind in the forest.

New improved list of readings and appearances...

Also, I've recorded a chapter of the book for KQED Writer's Block. It should be available for podcasting in about three weeks. I'll post the link when it's ready. When I get closer to the bookstore events, I'll post addresses for the stores.

June 4, 2008

7:00 PM


Village Books
Bellingham, WA



June 5, 2008

6:30 PM
Seattle Public Library

(with Secret Garden Books)



June 6, 2008

7:00 PM
Barnes & Noble
Portland, OR



June 19, 2008

7:30 PM
Capitola Book Cafe




June 26, 2008

7:30 PM
Mrs. Dalloway's Literary and Garden Arts
Berkeley, CA

June 29,
American Library Association conference, Anaheim, CA. 1:30 p.m.-3:30 p.m, location to be announced.

I will take part in a panel called "First Author, First Book,'' with Kaya McLaren (Church of the Dog, Penguin), Scott Douglas (Quiet, Please, Perseus Books), Mark Sarvas (Harry, Revised, Bloomsbury USA), and Anya Ulinich (Petropolis, Penguin). Visit http://www.ala.org/ala/eventsandconferencesb/annual/2008a/home.cfm for more information.


July 12, 2008
4:00 PM
Book Passage
Corte Madera

Link to author's page ..

And here's the link to my HarperCollins page, with the cover and some biographical info...This will be updated and augmented in the coming weeks. Thanks to my readers for pointing out the 'doomsday clock' function (which I did not notice at first!)

http://www.harpercollins.com/authors/33024/Dan_White/index.aspx

Whitmaniacs converge on San Jose

If you happen to be in San Jose on April 23rd, the Poets & Writers Coalition is setting up a small army of readers who will perform Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself'' in its entirety. This event will start at 1:30 p.m., location TBA. I will fill in the details as soon as I get them.

Back from the desert

Last week, we drove a Dodge Avenger through the California outback, with Gram Parsons and Midnight Oil blasting in the CD player. We saw our first condor, black and white, with board-straight wings. He floated above the red steps leading down from the High Peaks Trail through the Pinnacles. Out in the Mojave, I set up a tent near a Joshua tree, stopped a giant raven from tearing up the campsite of three So.Cal. frat boys, (by the time I arrived on the scene, the creature had eaten some of their tortillas) and climbed Ryan Mountain at the hottest time of day. In camp, three teenage partiers climbed a 50-foot boulder. They stood at the edge of the drop, twirling glow sticks, staring at their hands and jabbering until four in the morning. My vacation wasn't exactly perfect. One night in a high country camp, a semi-deranged caretaker stole my utensils, water and sleepwear. Still, it was a good time. I'll be back there soon.

Dates for "Cactus'' readings so far (updated)

Several friends, writing colleagues and family members asked for this, so here it is, and I'll keep adding updates when I get them. If you happen to live in any of these places (or are just passing through when I'm in town), stop by and say hello. As the dates get a little closer, I will fill in the addresses.

June 4, Bellingham, WA., Village Books, Wednesday
7 p.m.

June 5, Seattle, WA at Seattle Public Library (in conjunction with Secret Garden Book Store) 630 p.m.

June 6, Portland, Barnes and Noble, 7 p.m. …

June 19 -- Capitola Book Cafe, Capitola, California, 730 p.m.

June 29, American Library Association conference, Anaheim, 1:30 p.m.-3:30 p.m, location to be announced. I will take part in a panel called "First Author, First Book,'' with Kaya McLaren (Church of the Dog, Penguin), Scott Douglas (Quiet, Please, Perseus Books), Mark Sarvas (Harry, Revised, Bloomsbury USA), and Anya Ulinich (Petropolis, Penguin). Visit http://www.ala.org/ala/eventsandconferencesb/annual/2008a/home.cfm for more information.

"No Country'' nightmares

I finally got around to seeing "No Country ...'' at the Red Vic the other day -- and
I must say, I regret it. Now I'm having nightmares that the helmet-headed mumbly guy is out to get me. On the good side, I like the theater. They serve you popcorn in wooden bowls, they have padded benches instead of seats, and before the main attraction, they run a short film showing a rude Red Vic patron kicking over his soft drink and making a mess -- only to be grabbed, and, presumably, eaten alive, by a green-skinned monster that lives beneath the seats of the movie theater.

Book signings/readings in June

I'm scheduled to speak throughout the Pacific Northwest in June, with several appearances in the Bay Area and Central Coast. I'll post the schedule up here when I've firmed everything up. By the way, thanks to everyone who showed up to the Steinbeck Fellows reading the other day. I will post again in a couple of weeks. (I'm in a work-induced blog hibernation, with galleys and student papers...)

Banana slugs, bongo players, fat-tire unicyclists and sex in the woods

It's hard to believe that the Forest of Nisene Marks was once a sad stumpy wasteland, with loggers doing their darnedest to hack down every redwood they could find. In the turn of the century, this place was a disaster. Now, the forest offers some of the best hiking you can find anywhere on the Central Coast. You can hike all day on the edge of steep ravines, splash through streams and ogle banana slugs, which look like slices of overripe mango. Second-growth redwoods grow so tall, you can barely see the tops without straining your neck and back (like I did.) It's easy to forget the place's unfortunate history until you stumble across a fat stump with ferns and moss growing out of it, the broken-down remains of a cabin, or a set of railroad ties fading into the woods. Sometimes you forget you're near Santa Cruz --- until you see the signs of wacky behavior: fat-tire unicyclists out on an illegal trail ride deep in the park's interior, someone lost in the sounds of his own bongos, a crazy guy blatting out a song on the digeridu while sitting cross-legged on a folding chair, and a couple having loud, exhibitionist sex in a Range Rover with the windows down on the fire road, paying zero attention to the small army of moms pushing babystrollers right past them. There are few people out here, even on a nice day. Get here early in the morning and watch the steam rising off the redwoods.

Gary Gygax, Dungeons & Dragons co-creator, dies at 69

I was sad to hear about this. D and D helped me survive middle school -- even though my brother was much, much better at it than I was, and my hapless, wimpy dwarves and henchmen always ended up broke, defenseless and slaughtered early on in the game. This might sound like a stretch, but I would even argue that there are certain connections between D and D and long-distance backpacking culture. The trail can turn into a role playing game. You can lose your identity and get a 'trail name.'' Sometimes, a backpacker will identify so strongly with his/her trail name that the name becomes a kind of character. Out on the trail, you find yourself in the middle of a quest narrative that goes on for thousands of miles. And, if that's not enough, there is a slightly geeky aspect to certain long-distance walkers--- and I'm not exempting myself from this admittedly broad characterization.

The opposite of road rage

The other day, I was driving through SF's Inner Sunset neighborhood, in a hurry, on the way to the Yum Yum. A car full of very young people cut me off at that tricky four-way intersection (Irving and 9th.) I honked my horn. Down came their driver's side window. I braced myself for the nasty threats, the fists, the finger. But no. Instead, a bearded, frizzy-haired guy leaned out the window, made a "calm down, take it down a notch'' gesture to me with his right hand, and calmly mouthed out the following words:

"It's ... going .. to ... be .. OK.''

This is the first time that I've ever gotten into a road rage situation with a crisis intervention counselor. Needless to say, the encounter left no negative residue at all. I wish this kind of thing would happen more often. If this were NYC, all my teeth, at this point, would be missing.

Capitola Book Cafe

I'm looking forward to seeing everyone at my (former) home town on June 19th, when I'm scheduled to speak at the Capitola Book Cafe. I hope to see you all then.

Dennis De Young Museum

I had a great time at the Dennis De Young Museum in Golden Gate Park. What a great place. I hate the provisional-looking exterior but the content of the museum is top-notch. I was skeptical at first --- a whole museum, dedicated to the former lead singer of Styx? Fortunately the collection is more than just classic rock memorabilia. There is an excellent installation by Kiki Smith, showing the figures of two children riding a box kite into a 'storm' of hanging raindrops, each one made of handblown glass. They've got a really good Andy Goldsworthy installation, and the traditional art from New Guinea is the best display of its kind I've ever seen. They also have a journal on display with the original handwritten lyrics to "Mr. Roboto,'' which was also cool to see. All in all it was a very good experience (and not too expensive.)

Morbidly obese and lazy hawk in Golden Gate Park

I am growing concerned about the morbidly obese and lazy hawk in Golden Gate Park (in a field beneath a copse of trees, not far from the De Young Museum.) It is so waddlesome and lazy that it can barely fly anymore. It looks like a basketball with wings. I guess the food supply (pigeons, rats, gophers, more rats) must be very plentiful this year. Or maybe all that second-hand pot smoke is drifting up into the trees, sending his appetite out of whack.

On the road

Look for me out on the road starting in June. I am taking "Cactus Eaters'' to various cities and towns. This will probably include some sort of slide show/ power-point presentation featuring emigrants, mountains, flora, fauna, pioneer cannibals, trail logistics, little-known factoids, etc. Details to follow.

More information about getting drunk in the woods

Some of you have asked me to provide some more specifics about the phenomenal "Beer Woods'' hike in Muir Woods. (That's the one where you embark on a four-mile loop with a working beer bar right in the middle of the redwood forest.) Here goes. The pub is actually a faux Swiss chalet with stunning views of redwoods and Mount Tam. It's called the Tourist Club, and it's managed by a 600,000-member group called Naturfreunde, with headquarters in Austria (so they know from beer.) The club's address is 30 Ridge Ave., Mill Valley. Call in advance (415 388 9987) to make sure they are open. Also, bring a lot of food before you go there. It's hard to hike back out of the forest, over steep and sometimes slippery terrain, while shnackered.

Montara Mountain

For those of you who are out here in SF, and are looking for a quick escape, and are sick of the crowds in Muir Woods, try this hike. It's just off Highway One beyond the Devil's Slide (near Montara.) It's eight miles round trip -- and the first four miles are straight uphill--- but the views of the East Bay and San Francisco are tremendous. Warning: clear your schedule after you do this. I couldn't walk for a couple of days afterwards.

Allegedly phallic tree revisited

I have been trying, in recent weeks, to make my Cactuseaters blog more focused on the environment, backpacking, trees and "green'' issues. With this in mind, I've decided to republish a story I wrote some years back for the Santa Cruz Sentinel about an "allegedly phallic tree.'' For some reason, this story resulted in a small avalanche of strange attention; I went on various Howard Stern-style radio programs to talk about this particular shrubbery.

Fact or fallacy: Sexy tree too much for some Westside neighbors
DAN WHITE
Sentinel staff writer
May 8, 2002

A Westside resident called the cops Monday to report an allegedly phallic tree.

Officers responded to the Liberty Street home but found no wrongdoing. They said the 20-footer — actually an evergreen hedge of the Luma genus — is protected by its owner’s right to artistic freedom.

"We contacted the city attorney," said Sgt. Brad Goodwin. "It could be interpreted anywhere from being free speech to being artistic. It’s really nothing we have control over."

All trees can be seen as "phallic," but some would argue this eugenia is especially so. Viewed from the front, the hedge looks to have testicles, or perhaps bosoms.

Eugenia is a common plant noted for white flowers and edible fruits, according to the Sunset Western Garden Book. Sunset says the plant "performs best" in well-drained soil.

The owner of the tree, Gillian Greensite, said she found it peculiar the plant has been there at least 15 years and suddenly someone is mad about it. She said no one has complained to her about the plant.

Greensite, director of UC Santa Cruz’s rape prevention and counseling program, also questioned what the offended neighbor was really seeing in this tree.

"If they want to see phallic, they see phallic, I guess. I see trees," said Greensite, an outspoken advocate of tree preservation in the city.

She added the eugenia was "not trimmed for any particular purpose."

The complaining neighbor could not be reached for comment Tuesday....

Amy Sedaris at the Herbst Theater

I thought she did an incredible job. They set it up to look like a sit-down interview with Daniel Handler but it was pure, polished improv comedy, right from the start. She would take some ridiculous, offhand comment from the audience (including an astoundingly tasteless remark about Ms. Sedaris's dead mother in a sexually compromising position), pretend to ignore it, and then refer back to it mercilessly throughout the evening. Comedy is very hard -- it's easy to get up there and look like a shnook --- but she seemed fearless. She sparred a bit with Mr. Handler -- just enough to make you wonder if it was all part of the act or not. I also picked up on a lot of housekeeping tips (how to put google eyes on peanuts, for example.) There were many other weird twists to the evening -- such as Andrew Sean Greer playing the role of a slavish butler, setting down a martini for Amy Sedaris. Someone in the audience asked her about appearing with Martha Stewart, and what it was like to work with her. Sedaris replied that "he'' was very nice

This just in: a date for the upcoming reading

Please come to the next Steinbeck Fellows reading at 7:30 on March 6 (a Thursday) at the main library at SJSU. Peter Malae and Lysley Tenorio will read from their recent fiction (and I will have a short nonfiction piece.)

Just say no to marathon training while stoned

I know that they are just being friendly. But I'm starting to wonder why so many people are offering me "fat nuggs'' while I am wearing workout clothes and doing my long marathon training runs through Golden Gate Park. It seems counterintuitive.

I just drank a $20,000 cup of coffee (!)

I'm sure you've all read about the new Blue Bottle Cafe, which opened recently in the Mint Plaza. This city is full of places where coffee drinkers go to absurd new extremes to get that perfect cup --- and the Blue Bottle outdoes them all. You've got to see this to believe it. The place is clean and airy, with a staff that is in constant motion, stirring the silt out of the New Orleans-style iced coffee with chicory, monitoring the movements of the $20,000 Lucky Cremas Bonmac 105 siphon bar and tasting the product constantly, sipping the brew from tiny little cups. I ordered up a $12 pot, brewed in a glass globe. Quite frankly, this brew was a little bit above my head; it was delicious but I couldn't quite figure out what was so wonderful about it. However, it packed an insane caffeine kick that lingered for about 12 hours. Check it out, but get there early; it was hard to find a table.

Wild Sky Wilderness update, plus upcoming reading ...

I'm keeping a close watch on this one: Washington State preservationists are asking Congress to set aside 106,000 acres of forest, in the heart of Skykomish Valley, as wilderness. The land sounds incredible: old-growth forests, scenic crags and wild rivers, not to mention habitat for bald eagles, wolverines, owls and mountain goats. The proposal has cleared the U.S. Senate. Let's see what happens with this one. If it becomes a reality, I'm loading up my pack and heading out there as soon as the snows clear up. In other news, the Steinbeck Fellows will be reading in March in San Jose. Don't miss it. Peter Malae and Lysley Tenorio will present some of their latest works. Refreshments will be served. (and I almost forgot to mention that I'll be reading, too.)

The Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail turns 40!!!

This year is the 40th anniversary of the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail. (see footnote.) I'm hoping that lots of people will take leaves of absences and sabbaticals to through-hike this 2,650-mile trail. I might seem like an unlikely advocate for this path, considering that I had a rather extreme experience (running out of water dozens of times, getting lost constantly, getting giardia, etc.) However, many things have changed since I hiked it. For one thing, trail angels are leaving more water caches in the drier sections of the hike. The telecommunications boom is another factor. When I hiked the trail, cell phones were rare, unreliable and clunky. These days, people are blogging right from the trail(!), carrying GPS and maintaining at least some contact with the outside world. Finally, there are so many online resources and publications for people interested in lightpacking and orienteering. I'm hoping to hear from some people who are contemplating a PCT journey this year. Also -- thanks to the many people -- including former classmates -- who showed up to my "postcard signing.'' I appreciate your support!!!!

(footnote: purists will note that the trail has existed in various incarnations for much, much longer than 40 years; however, the PCT was designated a 'national scenic trail' in 1968.)

Corrected updated blog entry about Saturday

As it turns out, I will not be signing some advance copies at the New York Hilton from 3 to 4 p.m. this coming Saturday. However, if you stop by and say hello, I will give you a postcard with some information about "The Cactus Eaters.'' These postcards, by the way, are absolutely free. Take as many of them as you want. So far, my visit to New York has been fantastic. I've heard readings by Russell Banks, Phillip Lopate, Victoria Redel and many, many others. So far, every one of the AWP presentations has been first-rate. Tomorrow I'm going to see Edwidge Dandicat and John Beryman. I'm attending panels and getting a lot of great advice for creative writing and comp classes. The only cause for worry is my diet. So far, I've consumed a large banana pudding from the Buttercup Bakery, a cream-cheese smeared bagel from Absolute, an enormous corned-beef sandwich at the Stage Deli, deep-fried zucchini pancakes from God knows where, and other rich gloopy foods. I'm going to be huge by the time I leave this place.

New York

I'm just about to board a plane to New York. I will be out there for the next few days, talking to writers, editors and educators while raising awareness about my book. This means that I will be standing in front of Zabar's, handing out leaflets and waving around an inflatable cactus. Just kidding.

Someone on my street is keeping livestock in his apartment!

Well, maybe it's not quite that bad, but someone is raising a rooster out here. It's a little strange -- this is an urban area -- but I know it's not my imagination. Every day I hear the strangled sound of the rooster calling out -- "mawk-mawk-magooo!'' For a while, the sound stopped, and I felt bad for the rooster. I thought that it was some 'slow food' thing, carried to a ridiculous extreme, and that he wound up in a soup or as a capon. But the noises returned yesterday, louder than ever. I love all creatures great and small, but not at 5 in the morning.

My morning drive

My morning drive goes something like this: I race to my car, turn right on Divisidero, and the MUNI lurches up from the curb to cut me off. I switch on the radio. It's the same song every morning: Dynamite Hack's mellow folk cover of NWA's "Boyz-N-The-Hood.'' At the corner of Divisadero and Haight, I see the same homeless woman, holding a sign that says "Smile.'' I cut straight through the Castro, then down into Noe Valley, where I amp myself with coffee and a fistful of Noe O's. From there it's 280 South. Soon enough, I pass the charmingly inept sculpture of Junipero Serra and that Flintstones-looking house with red-brown paint. In San Jose, "She Rock The Hips'' beams into my car radio at the same time every morning. Eventually I lose the signal and switch to Greg Kihn in the Morning. An AC/DC cover band is playing "Highway To Hell'' in the studio. They are trying much too hard. By the time the song is over, I have arrived.

The screaming bush of Santa Cruz

I recently visited my old haunt, Santa Cruz, California, to catch up with some friends. I was hanging out downtown, standing in front of a shrubbery near the entrance to Book Shop Santa Cruz on Pacific Avenue. All of a sudden, the shrub began to shake and scream. The leaves parted, and out jumped a pasty shlub of a guy, laughing, while holding a bunch of branches in his hands. When I came to my senses, I realized that the shrub guy was in league with a second man, standing across the street, filming the whole thing. I guess the two of them were filming one of those 'gotcha' style comedy movies, where they bother people in the streets and then incorporate the footage into a narrative. Anyhow, the dummies forgot to ask their "victims'' for releases. If I see myself in their movie, I'm lawyering up.

Back to school

I'm teaching again, starting this Thursday. My new batch of students has no idea that my previous class called me "D. Money'' and "Professor Diddy.'' I'm counting on my readers --- all eleven of you --- to keep this under your hats.

Chocolate and bacon: a bad combination

Some months back, I posted about Vosges chocolates, some of the most experimental chocolate you can find. The people who make them are fearless. They will throw just about anything into their candies --- Banks Beer, rum, champagne, dried violets, powdered tea leaves, even dried-up kalamata olives. They have one chocolate that is so fiery spicy hot that it will make your tongue curl up in your mouth. During that posting, I made a facetious remark, saying that I would support these candy makers until they became too "daring'' and "weird'' and started putting sausage in their chocolates. Well, my fears came true. Their latest chocolate bar includes applewood smoked bacon as an ingredient. I tried a piece of this in Noe Valley and it just tasted ... well, not awful but weird and a little "off.'' When the chocolate melted away, odd bits of gristle remained.

In training, and plans for tour

I keep myself in reasonable shape; my freelance assignments involve remote, steep places. Because of this, I've decided to step it up a bit and train for my third marathon. San Francisco is a perfect place for this. It is pedestrian-friendly compared to NYC. Just getting to Noe Valley and back is a real workout; it's not long but the hills are steep. I love running on Irving. There are so many places to carb-load along the way (Arizmendi Bakery, for example.) The best part is the long traverse through Golden Gate Park. I love to run from the Haight to Ocean Beach and back, staying in the park for most of the way. Of course, there are occasional drug dealers stepping in front of me (the other day, I had 11 offers) For the most part, they are harmless. I think of them as speedbumps.
Also, I plan to be on tour to talk about my book soon (probably in summer.) I'm getting together a power-point presentation regarding the trail. Details to follow. This will be extremely low-budget (no brown m & ms and trashing motel rooms)
P.S., I am unfamiliar with drug nomenclature; wondering if anyone can translate "nuggets'' for me.

Gratuitous information: How to tip your waiter in Haight Ashbury

The following is an actual (handwritten) sign that hangs on the wall of All You Knead, a Haight-Ashbury restaurant.

"Attention, Foreign Travelers:
A quick guide to the wacky American custom of TIPPING.
20 percent -- great tip, great service
17 percent, good tip, good service
15 percent, fair tip, fair service
10 percent: another way of saying to your server, 'you suck and I hate you.''

AWP

Hoping to see old friends and colleagues at the AWP in New York later this month. I also just found out that I will soon be on assignment, exploring the backwoods of the deep south for a travel piece. I'll send updates when I get them. If any readers happen to be going to this, please let me know.

The Cloverfield monster -- a giant headlice?

Ugly glasses

When I was a kid, if you wore big goofy angular frames like the ones worn by Elvis Costello on his first record, or Oscar Wao, or Piggy from Lord of the Flies, you would get beaten up or stuffed into a Dumpster. Today, these are your only options! I wonder what poor old Piggy would think, to know that he has been reborn as a fashion icon. Today's trendiest glasses are all awkward, expensive and absolutely enormous, with huge black bug-eyed frames with weird jagged edges. Anyhow, I was at the eyeglass store in Noe Valley yesterday. The salesman tried a bit of divide-and-conquer. He had me try on some really big frames, and when my wife made a sour face, he waited until she was out of earshot and said, "I disagree with her but it looks like she has the say-so.'' Tired of the hard-sell, I went to Sears to try out their options but they were even worse. They have spindly frames that sit crookedly on your face no matter what you do, while pinching your nose and squishing the sides of your head. Instead of investing in new glasses, I'll stick with the ones I have and buy a seeing eye dog.

Haight Ashbury's incoherent drug pushers: why must they mumble?

Haight Ashbury's pushers should all take elocution lessons. How many times has this happened to you? You've been walking down the street, minding your own business, and some guy comes up to you and makes you an offer that you can't understand. "Hey you, want to buy some murgahblerghohgohablorojegt?'' Yesterday, when I was down in the Haight, shopping for paper towels, a pusher approached me at the corner of Haight and Cole and asked if I wanted to buy a small bag of "green-vomit mushrooms.'' I'm sure that's not what he meant but his pronunciation was terrible! Five minutes later, near the corner of Haight and Clayton, a pusher tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I wanted to buy a few ounces of "bagpipe sprouts.''

Scary restaurants

My friend and writing colleague Sam Autman sent me a news story about his favorite restaurant being invaded by cockroaches and serving roadkill to unwitting customers!! I was disgusted. At the same time, I have a pretty strong feeling that many of my favorite greasy hotspots in NYC and other places have shady histories. For example, I've always had a strange feeling about my favorite roasted chicken place on the west side. They are nothing but kind to me, but the waiters seem tough. I have a feeling that if I ever complained about the food or caused a scene, no one would ever hear from me again. Long ago, I frequented a Connecticut sushi restaurant that (allegedly) had a double life as a bookie joint. It was right at the height of the designer sake craze. In a snippy and entitled voice, I asked the hulking bartender, "What kinds of sake do you have here?'' He put his big square head very close to my face and said, "HOT and COLD.'' I stuck to the Sapporo after that.

Say what? Plus --- fainting at book store

This morning, I had a Phillip K. Dick moment when I (in a rare moment of self-involvement) was surfing the Internet and stumbled upon an advertisement for a used (!) copy of my as-yet-nonexistent, soon-to-be published book. The Internet site assured me that there was "one used copy available'' and that I could get it in a week or so -- even though the book won't be published for five months!!!
I wondered to myself, "how can there be a used copy of a document that doesn't exist? And what would happen if I whipped out my credit card and pressed the 'order' button? If I did such a thing, what would the postman deliver? I had a vision of opening up a large manila envelope and having an amorphous Rosemary's Baby bolus of future prose slither out of the envelope and land with a plop on my apartment floor. In a panic, I called my publisher, who assured me that no book would arrive "until the book actually comes out.''
In other news, I fainted slightly at the Haight Street book shop while reading Karen Russell's intense new story about vampires in the latest All-Story. There are many spooky parts and references to blood in this one, and it was too intense for me. I began to plummet, face first, toward a teetering pile of Iowa Reviews before catching myself in mid-swoon. I'm not making this up. They should put advisory stickers on these things.

Thinking of calling Amnesty International

My wife says that if we don't purchase a television soon, she's going to make me see the new Katherine Heigl movie.

Corrected blog entry: The near-squishing of my car ( and my near-pickpocketing by a weird girl)

I've been trying to enjoy the storm. For example, I've been running all over my apartment, pretending it's a pirate ship sailing through gail force winds. "All hands on deck! Man the bilge, ya swabs. Fire in the hole.'' But there is no denying it. This storm is merciless and nasty. Today, an oak fell over and gave the car parked right next to my car a leafy smackdown, pinning it to the asphalt, slamming the hood, cracking the glass, totalling it. Scary. I had been parked three feet to the right, that would have been my squashed car. This storm is for real. Today, I visited Hayes Valley, and I almost parked my car near the general proximity of "Oak'' and "Fell'' streets. Not wanting to tempt fate, I moved.

In other news, a strange woman pickpocketed me right in the middle of a Castro eyeglasses store, but she gave me back the stuff she'd stolen, including my credit card, because the theft was just a "practical joke'' to point out the fact that there was a lartge hole in the wallet pocket of my blue jeans. "I couldn't resist,'' she said. "I just wanted to see if I could get away with it.'' Such hilarity!

Cheese shop ownership and psychosis: a direct correlation

Incident one: Just last week, I went into my very favorite cheese shop in town and asked the guy for a small wedge of Fromage D'Affinoir. And the guy's face fell! He wrinkled his nose and made a disgusted expression as if I'd just asked for the dumbest, most vulgar kind of cheese on the planet. He gave me the Fromage, but he practically threw the thing at me. I got out of there as quickly as I could.

Incident two: The other day, I went into my second-favorite cheese shop in town and asked for some fresh ricotta, which, as you know, is very hard to find. The owner asked me why I needed fresh ricotta. I explained that my wife was making me a lasagna from scratch, using a Kitchenaid standing mixer with a pasta-making attachment. "What is she, a mail-order bride?'' said the owner.

It is incredibly rainy here

All the MUNI buses have been immobilized. I'm charging up my solar flashlight. I feel like I'm trapped in that terrible in-flight movie starring Steve Carell and various animals.

Hawaii: mongoose, turtles and seriously chubby tourists

I just returned from a wild and crazy trip through Maui and the Big Island. It was a great, great time. I stayed in an actual yurt, ate pickled raw smelly fish, inadvertently annoyed a green sea turtle, stalked a tropical fish, snorkeled in circles and ate mahi mahi fish and chips until my brain was numb. It was an almost perfect vacation, except for the following strange things.

1. In Kona, our next door neighbors were such slobs!!! They never left their hotel room. They stocked up on stuff from Costco, including an enormous bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream, which they glurped outta the bottle. Then, they decided to hang out on their balcony while watching TV. To pull off this feat, they arranged their deck chairs with their backs to the water, and turned the TV set up so loudly that it shook the whole floor. We finally called security on their sorry keisters and shut 'em down. The guy kept trying to figure out who narced him out, but security refused to reveal my identity because I didn't want to get beaten to a bloody pulp on my vacation.

2. During an astonishing sunset on Maui, a very whiny woman came up behind me and started criticizing the sunset in front of her friends!!! It was beautiful --- the orb of light slowly sinking beneath the island of Malukai -- but she wasn't satisfied. She said that quite frankly, she'd seen better sunset, and that she was "rather disappointed,'' and that she was hoping that the display of light and colors would be "more varied and interesting. Really, I was hoping that it would throw up more lights in more varied patterns and have a wider palette of colors,'' blah blah blah.

3. On Maui, I saw a young woman standing at sunset in a pool of turquoise-blue warm water, letting the wind mist over her as the sky turned pale gold and red. But instead of enjoying it, she was standing there, text messaging her friends!!!

4. The small "commuter'' planes here are so terrifying. Don't ride them under any circumstances. I rode on a plane that was so small, and flimsily constructed, that it looked like one of those remote control gizmos that you see down at Rancho San Antonio in Cupertino. That plane bounced through the clouds like a bucking bronco. For every moment of that ride, i could barely stifle my screams. I seriously thought we were going to meet the fate of the Big Bopper. Somehow we survived to tell the tale.

Back from the land of mongooses

I have just returned from the land of the feral mongoose, Kona coffee and macadamia nuts. I promise to give a full report once I can shake some of the sawdust from my brain.

Slowly pimping my blogsite

For years I have resisted adding any design features to my bare-bones blog design. I think I did this out of laziness more than anything else. Or perhaps I was influenced by the editor of a small newspaper where I used to work. It was a black-and-white rag --- and when we dared to suggest that he consider adding color to the newspaper, he shot back: "I will NOT have this newspaper dolled up like some dime-store hussy!'' Well, I'm finally making a concession to modern times. I've added an actual graphic to this blog, featuring my unsmiling face during a desert survival hike some years back. I took this photo of myself, using a disposable camera, during a heatwave, as the thermometer edged to 105 degrees. At the time of this photo, I had just escaped from an ornery, grazing bull, and had returned to the trail after taking a harrowing 'wrong turn' that consumed about seven hours.

Anyhow, I hope you like this new design feature. Who knows? I might even mess with the logo one of these days. Have a good holiday. I'll file a new report after the New Years.

My interior national strike has been resolved

OK. I'm convinced. The strike is over.

By the way, I am now available on eBay. More to follow.

Beer Woods: the best hiking trail in America?

This week is the 100th anniversary of Muir Woods. To mark the occasion, Amy and I went on the best day hike in America. The scenery is very nice --- old-growth and second-growth redwoods on bluffs marching out toward the Marin County coastline --- but this is hike has the best amenity that I've ever seen in the woods --- an actual, functioning beer bar, smack in the middle of the forest!!!
You don't even have to hike out of the woods to get to it. You just walk right up and there it is, right on the trail, like some kind of hallucination. (that's what I love about this San Francisco area. People are always thinking of interesting ways to combine unhealthy and healthy activities in one convenient package.) This bar in the woods has wheat bear, lagers, and dark beer in enormous tankards. My only pieces of advice: don't arrive there on an empty stomach, and be careful returning to the woods on your way out. There is quite a drop to the right of the hiking trail leading into the valley. I didn't see anyone tumble into it, but it must happen from time to time.

Some thoughts about toadsucking

In my blog, I run an occasional item about the various Dan Whites of the world. This week's Dan White (no relation)is a prosecutor who commented recently about the illegality of toadsucking. Here is the actual article, from the Associated Press:

"Law enforcement authorities have discovered that people are willing to go to great lengths to get high, including a troubling new method that features a frightened toad.

"Toad smoking," which is a substitute for "toad licking," is done by extracting venom from the Sonoran Desert toad of the Colorado River. The toad's venom - which is secreted when the toad gets angry or scared - contains a hallucinogen called bufotenine that can be dried and smoked to produce a buzz.

In October, a Kansas City man was charged with possessing a controlled substance after Clay County authorities determined he possessed a toad with the intent to use its venom to get high.

Clay County Prosecutor Daniel White said possessing the toad is not illegal, but using it to get high off its venom is.

"It is easier to get it, and law enforcement might not immediately know you use it to get high," White said. "It's sort of a New Age way to get high. You convince yourself it is OK because it is something you get naturally from our environment.

"There are a lot of things that are created naturally but they are still not legal," he said.

White said that for years people experimented with "toad licking," and now toad smoking is considered a substitute. To do so, a person heats up the frog's venom to break down its toxins and preserve the hallucinogen, which is dried.

He said some Internet sites feature an instructional video on how to extract the toad's venom.

Police found the toad when they went to a northern Kansas City home to investigate a suspected meth lab. They later arrested David S. Theiss, 21, and charged him with three counts of possession of a controlled substance and one count of possessing drug paraphernalia - the toad."

Anyhow, I thought this was a fascinating story, and highly coincidental, considering that the very first record that I ever owned featured a song called "Toadsuckers'' by a folksinger named Mason Williams. The lyrics are as follows:

How about Them Toad Suckers,
Ain't they clods?
Sitting there suckin'
Them green toady-frogs?

Suckin' them hop-toads,
Suckin' them chunkers,
Suckin' them leapy types,
Suckin' them plunkers.

Look at Them Toad Suckers,
Ain't they snappy?
Suckin' them bog-frogs
Sure makes'em happy.


There's more, but you get the picture

Wipe the Christmas spirit from your shoes

Well, it's that time of year again. The Christmas spirit has descended on the Haight Ashbury section of San Francisco. The free television -- donated by some generous soul -- still sits on the street corner, waiting for adoption. With every passing day, someone takes time out of his or her busy schedule to kick over the television set, or scrape it with a sharp object. Now that the holidays are upon us, people are slowing down the pace, engaging in witty repartee, and excusing themselves from the pesky burdens of every day life, such as bothering to clean up after their dogs. Just the other day, I saw a hale fellow and a young woman sharing a laugh as their waiting dogs relieved themselves copiously on the sidewalk. Four days later, the souvenir of their conversation remains at the corner of Waller and Masonic, just waiting for other people to trod upon it.

Domestic porn?

Yesterday, I surprised my wife by volunteering to do the dishes.
"Can I watch?'' she said.

Pimp my cataracts

You won't believe this. Yesterday, I went into a San Francisco spectacles store, hoping to buy a new pair of eyeglasses. I was trying to pay attention to all the fashionable oversized glasses, with huge black nerdy rims, but found it very hard to concentrate. Why? Because there was a DJ spinning and scratching records right in the middle of the store! There I was, squinting at the merchandise, looking at price tags, and trying very hard to ignore the WACKA WACKA WOCKA WOOKA WOCKA racket coming from the speakers, and the scratching, and the 20-something DJ wearing earphones and grooving to himself. I asked Amy why anyone in his or her right mind would put a DJ in the middle of an eyeglass emporium. "It's the hipsters,'' she said. "They want eyeglasses to be a 'hip' experience.'' Now I understand. They're trying to make medical problems funky, social, countercultural, cool and fun! I'm going to get in on the action by opening up an after-hours peridontal surgery bar.

A prose poem about a stranger's generosity

Someone left a battered TV on the sidewalk near my house this morning.
The electrical cord has been snipped.
A fretwork of cracks extends across the casement.
Dust covers the exterior. A dog has relieved itself on the side of television.
The whole thing looks like someone either stomped on the top of it or smacked it with a baseball bat.
And, to top it all off, someone left a yellow Post-It on the back of the TV set with the words: "FREE!! REALLY WORKS!!''

I didn't want to let this overwhelming act of generosity
to go unheralded.

The other Dan White: non-protester causes a non-stir at non-event

Every once in a while, I like to check in on the other Dan Whites of this world and highlight their strange behavior. There are many of us out there (hundreds!) Most of us Dan Whites are peculiar but harmless -- with the exception of that one truly terrible "Dan White" that will never be mentioned in this blog.
My favorite recent "Dan White" item comes from a BBC news website, which mentioned a nonprotester named "Dan White" (no relation) who organized an undemonstration about nothing in particular.
He held a a cardboard placard signifying nothing, with no message of any kind. His utter purposelessness fuddled the cops. They didn't know quite what to do with him. Did Mr. White need a non-protest permit to hold his un-demonstration? When asked what he was doing, Mr. White refused to say. The police gave up and left him alone. According to an excerpt attributed to the BBC, he planned to return with several other nonprotesters and resume his un-demonstration later that week.

Mysteries of the Haight

Why are there so many crepe places in this neighborhood?

How come you never see anyone eating at any of those aforementioned crepe places?

What's up with all the enormous puppies on hemp leashes?

How come there are two "People's'' coffee shops --- and they are right next door to each other?

Why does the smaller organic food store near Clayton have only one employee -- and he seems to be there, and wide awake, 24 hours a day, whenever you pop into the store?

Why does our only local taqueria put peas in their burritos?

The mysterious Mr. Pooh

Right now I am in the middle of doing the final grades for my writing students --- but I am running into a slight bureaucractic glitch. The English department sent me a list of student names next to their essay grades. Most of the names are clearly recognizable. However, some of the names are a little strange, and I can't figure out if they correspond to actual students or if they are imaginary people who exist only in another realm. Take, for example, the mysterious Crajantan Pooh. Crajantan Pooh did quite well on the University Essay. In fact, he scored well above the median. On the down side, I have never had a student named "Pooh" here or anywhere else. I put Mr. Pooh's name into a worldwide Google search and nothing came up, not even when I narrowed the search to "Hangers-On of Christopher Robin,'' "Tigger Has a Posse'' and "Eeyore's Therapy Group.'' Now, I'm trying to figure out who this "Crajantan Pooh" might be, and get to the bottom of this issue, so to speak. Oh well. As they say, Pooh happens.

A man who needs no introduction

One of the student essays included a reference to "Jesus --- the renowned religious figure.'' Usually, I don't see a clarifying statement used in that kind of situation. It's like saying "Buddha -- famous peaceful entity'' or "God --- a world-famous overwhelming presence that controls everything.'' I guess the student was afraid that the graders might mix him up with "The Jesus" character from "The Big Lebowski.''

Such a frigid end!!

Avoid these sentence constructions when writing political manifestos:

"The cessation of both opposing directions leads to the absence of the very substance that brought this country to life.''

"It is frightening to think of the world coming to such a frigid end!''

"The anonymous article, written by William Bennett ...''

"Such thinly conceived faiths shed much war onto any attempt at cival uniformity.''

"A force overtly apparent ...''

"Terrorists taking over the nation? Or our nation being reduced to the perplexity of complex capitalist conformity? Neither option is particularly amusing.''

"What it boils down to is: this is a war between values (America) and a nation of terrorists (Iraq.) That is not a value judgment.''

Santeria -- the clean version.

I laughed out loud at the new Nintendo commercial, showing a bunch of freshly scrubbed kids sitting under a sunny tree and strumming along to -- of all things -- "Santeria'' by Sublime. The kids are all smiles as they sing, "I don't practice Santeria, I aint got no crystal ball, I had a million dollars,'' etc. Then the kids skip directly to the chorus -- conveniently eliminating the lines about popping a cap in Sancho and slapping her down. Hmmm. Is Nintendo advocating that the youth of America perform "the clean version'' of every pop song in public from now on? I'm looking forward to Nintendo commercials featuring the squeaky-clean versions of songs by the Sex Pistols, NWA and Cannibal Corpse.

Painting chimps

I enjoyed the New York Times article about the colony of painting chimps in the Hamptons. ChimpYaddo, ChimpBreadloaf and ChimpMacdowell are soon to follow.

P.S. Amy's blog, once moribund, has been revived. You can find the blog at www.amyettinger.com

Also, I still don't have a voice.

Speechless

I have (literally) lost my voice. This may come as a surprise to people who know me. To paraphrase one of my students, I could talk the potato off of a couch.
My voice loss happened gradually. During my last two days of classes, my voice sounded like a claw rasping against a window. Then it cut out altogether --- right in the middle of class -- and I wonder when it will ever come back.
It's hard to get by with no voice at all. Going to the grocery store is strange. Boxboys say, "Paper or plastic?" Cashiers say, "Credit card or debit?'' Then I point at my tonsils, and make a throat-slashing gesture to signify my voicelessnes. They don't understand. They get cross with me. They think I am threatening them. Last night, I woke up to find my cat, Robert Earl, biting me on the arm. I opened my mouth to shriek. Nothing came out.
It's not all bad. Normally, if I clap my hands really loudly to get my wife's attention, she would take offense at this. This week, I'm allowed to clap at her, snap my fingers and point to stuff that I want. That part of it has been fun. I'm boning up on my Pictionary and miming skills.

Now, who is going to call me Professor Diddy and D-money?

My last day of teaching at SJSU is this Friday. I guess I'll have to back to being boring old "Dan White.''

Tales from Cupertino, part VII: Mother-in-law nearly arrested in sushi restaurant!!!!

You won't believe this. My mother-in-law was hanging out with a pal in one of the most illustrious sushi restaurants in Silicon Valley. I've been there many times; it is quite good. Anyhow, my mother-in-law (M.I.L. in future references) ordered the sushi as usual, but her friend ordered a hot-chicken dish, which came out uncooked and gross!! The friend sent it back to the chef, who sent it back to her still cold and completely unchanged. The friend sent it back to the chef again, and this time it was shoved into the microwave and was slightly warmed up --- but it was still rather rubbery and unpleasant. Anyhow, when my MIL and her pal challenged the bill, the waitress said that they had better pay up or they would both be arrested! Trying to get to the bottom of the problem, my MIL approached the chef herself, and he growled at her. He said that the friend was at fault because she should have eaten the warm (but uncooked and gross) chicken when it first arrived on her plate. Anyhow, I think it's wrong that people, in this day and age, can go out to lunch for a little moriawese, and end up being a cause celebre for Amnesty International. I'm probably going to write a nasty letter about this. I would identify the restaurant but I am a little bit scared to do so; you should see the knives that this guy uses on the fish.

Why does this city smell so bad this week?

As everybody knows, some sections of Haight Ashbury smell like essential oils, pot and and reeking B.O. However, bad smells are not confined to my neighborhood. The Financial District smelled quite fishy and moldy when I was walking through it yesterday. Foul aromas wafted from every vent and manhole as I hurried through the streets en route to the new Nicole Kidman film. It's hard to walk when you are holding your nose and closing your eyes and not breathing through your mouth. I think someone should spray this entire city down with Axe.

A Guggulah-Muggulah for Amy Winehouse

The undeniably disgusting Guggulah Muggulah cured me of my bad cold this week and restored my voice. I'm wondering if it might have a similar wholesome effect on Amy Winehouse, whose personal tsuris is preventing her from carrying on with her tour. I think a good strong cup of Guggulah Muggulah might put her back on the straight-and-narrow. But in her case, I would leave out the rum. I would just go with the straight up milk, honey and butter combination.

Tales from Cupertino part III: my very first Uggulah-Muggulah

"This will make you nauseous. Then you will gag.''

That is what my mother-in-law said as she handed me my first Uggulah Muggulah, an Eastern European folk cure that is supposed to sooth sore throats and restore your voice. I was sick as a dog that day, barely able to speak at all. My voice was a pitiful croak. My mother-in-law prepared for me a slimy concoction of melted butter, milk and honey, all stirred together and heated up in the microwave until frothy, warm, and indescribably vile. Somehow, I was able to drink several tablespoons of the nasty beverage --- and, lo and behold, it restored my voice for the rest of the day! Here, then, is the recipe for an Uggulah Muggalah. It's truly disgusting and phlegmy but it really works, if you aren't squeamish about drinking butter:

one half a cup milk
two tablespoons butter
one tablespoon honey

chop up the butter into little pieces and float it into the viscous milk, then add the glob of honey. Heat it up into the microwave until the mixture is frothy but not quite boiling. Then, hold your nose and try not to vomit as you sip as much of the Uggulah-Muggulah as you can bear. Wait a few moments, and I guarantee that your voice will come back if you've lost it. If it's late in the day, you might as well add a jigger of rum to your Uggulah Muggulah. It couldn't hurt.

Downward-facing dog

Last weekend, Amy saw some lady trying to smuggle her dog into the opera. It was a small dog, stuffed into a purse. Someone saw the little dog and asked the owner: "Does that dog enjoy opera?'' The owner replied that she "really did not know'' if the dog liked opera or not. That is a reasonable answer. Who the hell knows what dogs, or animals in general, think about anything? But then the dog owner added that her ratdog preferred ballet and yoga. I find this hard to believe. Dogs can't stand upright for longer than a couple of seconds. They can't brachiate (extend their arms in a rotating fashion.) I can't see how a dog could do a Sun Salutation Pose without serious discomfort.

Wondering why no one from Canada ever looks at my blog (updated, revised and reconsidered -- thank you, Canada.)

I'm getting some email inquiries from Singapore, Israel and Algeria. I've heard from England a couple of times, and Icelanders have discovered this site. But I'm wondering why no one from Canada ever writes in. I am trying to think of ways to make Cactuseaters appeal to Canadians more overtly. At the same time, I don't want to pander by throwing in references to the obvious Canada-related topics such as grizzly bears, Seth Rogen, Sealtest Ice Cream, Neil Young and Neal Peart's lyrics to "Subdivisions.'' Stay tuned. I'm going to mess with the formula to make Cactuseaters more Canada-friendly in the future. And here is my addendum to this thoroughly outdated post: thank you, Canada. In the past few months I have received many heartening and inspiring messages from people living in all parts of Canada, including one who recently bought The Cactus Eaters and a two-year subscription to Catamaran Literary Reader!! It just goes to show that my efforts to make this blog more Canada-friendly have paid off in a big way. 

Bagel update

I hate to say this, but after all my kvetching and moaning about the bad quality of bagels on the West Coast, I just baked up a batch of bagels that are, if anything, even worse than the ones I've eaten here!! The bagels I've eaten in this state are flavorless and insipid. They aren't real bagels. They are nothing but dinner rolls with navels, and I doubt the bakers even boiled them or used even a speck of malted barley powder or syrup, not to mention high-gluten flour. But this doesn't excuse the fact that my own home-made bagels are slimy hockey pucks, too gooey in the middle, and with crusts so hard that biting down on them could pull your jaw right out of your skull. I'm not going to give up on bagels just yet but I promise to stop whining about bagel quality until I can come up with a better recipe.

I am available at Target

I never thought I would say this, but I am currently available at Target. Actually, that is not quite accurate. What I mean to say is that I can be pre-ordered in bulk through Target's website.

I first saw the listing today at http://www.target.com/gp/detail.html/602-6017599-0079026?asin=0061376930&afid=yahoosspplp_bmvd&lnm=0061376930|The_Cactus_Eaters:_How_I_Lost_My_Mind—and_Almost_Found_Myself—on_the_Pacific_Crest_Trail_(P.S.)_:_Books&ref=tgt_adv_XSNG1060

This is exciting for me because Target is the place where I buy all my Grape-Nuts as well as my padded retro telescoping ladder chairs and paper towels.

In other news, my students have stopped calling me "Dan White'' or "Professor White'' and have taken to calling me "D. Money'' and "Professor Diddy.'' I have no idea how this happened.

Making my own expletive bagels

Driven to madness by the wretched quality of California bagels, I am taking matters into my own hands. After scouring the city for high-gluten flour and barley malt syrup, I am attempting to roll my own. I will let you know how it goes.

Marie Antoinette

This weekend, my mother and father took me to a special exhibit about Marie Antoinette in the Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. The exhibit shattered many preconceptions I had about Marie Antoinette.

Here are some things that I learned during the exhibit:

1. Marie Antoinette's actual name was Maria Antonia Josefa Johanna von Habsburg-Lothringen.

2. Marie Antoinette was quite homely.

3. The Palace of the Legion of Honor and the Palace of Fine Arts are two separate places in San Francisco. They are nowhere near each other. If you arrange to meet somebody at one of the palaces, but show up at the wrong one, you will experience humiliating shame.

6. To get away from the suffocating splendor of Versailles, Marie Antoinette built a suffocating splendid outbuilding in her yard.

6. Marie Antoinette enjoyed pastries. She had a pug, and many shoes.

The coyotes of San Francisco

I'm amazed by the variety of creatures that live within city limits. Bears, raccoons and many other animals have been seen throughout this seaside burg. Recently, someone took a bunch of pictures of a lone wild dog prancing through a meadow in Noe Valley. The images are inspiring. A hawk lives just outside my window. Every day, I hear him screech. Sometimes I take long walks through Buena Vista Park, where a family of good-natured squirrels squeaks out their good tidings while the sun pours down on their auburn fur. The other day I was shopping at Walgreen's on Castro, and an opposum filled my prescription. He did a very sloppy job of it but I think it's pretty cool that marsupials are making their way into the workforce. Every day, I see pigeons and woodrats standing on street corners, flagging down taxis and MUNI with forceful flicks of their claws. Just the other day, I saw a coyote order a double martini with a twist of lemon at the Alembic. His hair was perfect.

Watch my politeness increase

Lately I've become very interested in etiquette. I am trying to learn new manners every day. With this goal in mind, I went to the library yesterday and checked out a 709-page book on the subject. I've already read 110 pages. Here are three lessons that I learned for today.

1. "Walk down the street with a deliberately pleasant expression on your face (not a suffering frown ...)" >:

2. "A smiling face, symptomatic of an upbeat personality, is like the flame that fascinates and draws the moths."

3. "Act fascinated by the new people you meet, even if they look very boring indeed."

Jerry Garcia and Palmolive dish soap

I just heard a story (possibly apocryphal?) that Jerry Garcia refused to wash the dishes when he was living in the famous communal Grateful Dead house on 710 Ashbury, which is roughly a three-and-a-half-minute walk from where I live. According to the story, Garcia made a case that the Palmolive dish soap would soften the calluses on his fingers, therefore harming his guitar playing. Recently, I tried a similar argument in my household to get out of doing the dishes. She isn't buying it, though.

Not the same cactus eater

I have learned about some disturbing cactus-eating activities in Cyberspace. Someone told me about a hair-raising video that apparently shows some guy consuming a cactus with sauce dumped all over it on YouTube! I also heard about a site advertising "penetration cactus-sex.'' (yuck!) Let me assure you that these extreme cactus-related ventures have nothing to do with me. Personally, I think people shouldn't trifle with thorn-covered plants. They will always get you in the end.

Obsessed with Kidrobot

My neighborhood (the Haight) has a few mildly annoying things, including hipsters posing for photographs while flashing the peace sign in an ironic way at the famous intersection, and the sheer number of people who ask if I can show them the famous Victiorian where Jerry and pals lived together under one roof like The Monkees. However, the place has some interesting new things, including the brand-new Kidrobot store, an emporium/museum featuring some of the craziest 'action figures' I've ever seen. In case you are unfamiliar with the term 'action figures,' they are, basically, plastic dolls with muscles and glazed expressions. Those qualities allow companies to sell them as "action figures for strapping young lads'' instead of "dolls for sissies.'' The Kidrobot dolls are much more original than the Yodas and helmet-haired Luke Skywalkers I collected as a youth. The store has a stunning Storm Trooper doll that costs over $100 and can bend and pose in every conceivable way. It has a large Mickey Mouse holding a lethal-looking samurai sword (Did Disney give permission for this? It's fun until somebody loses an eye!!!), a Sid Vicious doll and a blood-spattered, camo-wearing teddy bear with no eyes or facial expression. The store also has a sinister fireman wielding a battle ax and various members of the Gorillaz, Damon Albarn's trip-hop version of the Archies. I plan to make a stop at Kidrobot a part of my daily Haight Ashbury ritual, along with buying produce from the hard-working grumps at the larger organic food store, and staring at the brand-new mural at the corner of Haight and Masonic, which looks like a collection of smiling psychedelic condoms.

"Get back on the horse"

My wife wants to give the aforementioned Italian restaurant another try! She thinks they were just having a bad day, and she said she liked her dinner just fine. "You just have to get back on the horse,'' she said. While I respect her compassion for the people who run the restaurant, I thought that "horse'' was an unfortunate word choice, considering the mystery beef that they piled on top of my gnocchi.

Searching for myself on "Ask Jeeves'' --- with unfortunate results

I was distressed this evening when I entered my name in the AskJeeves search engine -- in search of other places where I might place large advance orders of my own book --- and the following hits came up:

"Dan White 1978 Twinkie
Dan White Twinkie Defense
Dan White Trial
State V. Dan White
Dan White Insanity Plea
Dan White San Francisco."

Yikes. I'm going to have to change my name once and for all.

Horrible meal at new improved Italian restaurant

What's the Italian phrase for "flat tire with tomato sauce dumped on the top of it along with some shriveled mushrooms" ? The answer is: "pneumatico sgonfio a la fungilli shrivilloso con salsa pomodoro disgustioso.'' This is what I consumed during my highly unpleasant recent visit to the 'new improved' Italian restaurant that I frequent in San Francisco. Until last week, the restaurant was brilliant. They had a nice way with pastas, sauces, wines and the like. The service was kind of pushy at times, but hey. In the past week, the place plunged off a cliff in terms of quality. They became overly ambitious and highfalutin. They started putting wild game and other assorted creatures on the menu, while experimenting with peculiar new sauces. My wife ordered something that looked, pretty much, like a soggy, insipid bird's nest with cheese on it. Translation: "Nido di uccello inzuppato y banale con fromaggio.''

Meeting Salman Rushdie

Yesterday I met Salman Rushdie. I shook his hand and talked to him for about two and a half minutes, though I can't remember exactly what I said because I was very, very nervous. When you meet a literary celebrity, it is best to pin down at least something that you have in common and dwell on it for as long as you can. In this case, we both talked about how we don't really like to grade papers very much, and how a pass/fail system with narrative comments is just fine with us. That was one thing we definitely had in common. Afterwards, I calmed myself down by eating a large helping of Pepperidge Farm cookies from the free food buffet.

I want to pre-order my own book in bulk

I was just searching through the internet, and I stumbled upon a site that allows me to order my own upcoming book in bulk! I think I'm going to place an order right now just to see what happens.

I have returned from the spooky canyon

I just got back from the beautiful but slightly creepy canyon in Utah. I drove up a chewed-up road with no guardrails for 10 miles over some very steep sandstone cliffs until I reached a parking area with a skull (a bear skull perhaps) lashed to a post. I explored some gold-tinted hills and cliffs with ancient granaries perched on the edges of sheer drop-offs and took a close look at some beautiful, and quite chilling, petroglyphs etched out of the walls. One of the petroglyphs showed a 'fallen man' who seemed to have tumbled down a cliff face. Another showed a figure with bird feathers emanating from his head and a long snake-like body. I saw pictures of dancing shamans, rams and hunters all clustered together on a long wall. I also saw a bear cub running around, a bunch of wild turkeys, elk tracks, deer and rabbits all over the place. Some of the wall art looks so fresh, you'd think someone came up and etched it out last week instead of ten centuries ago. As I walked up and down the canyon, it was hard to escape the feeling that I was being watched.

Spooky canyon

I'm taking off at this moment on my journey toward the spooky Southwestern canyon full of Fremont-era granaries, petroglyphs, pictograms and other remarkably intact ruins (they found actual corncobs in in some of the granaries!). The place was inhabited about a thousand years ago but the people deserted it quickly for mysterious reasons. The other strange thing is the fact that they built their shelters so far up on the rocks, out of reach from water on semi-vertical cliffs. In fact, you would need to be a fairly skilled rock climber just to reach many of the cliff dwellings in this place.