general fuzz

Well, for those not in the know, the version was quite successful. The doctors, whom warned us that the likely hood of success was very low, turned our baby a good 150 degrees. When they failed to find the heartbeat after the version, there was a small whirlwind of activity. When Stina and I looked at each, “holy shit” was painted all over our faces. The heartbeat was located shortly after, and everything eventually mellowed out. We went home and I changed my underwear.

Since the version, we’ve been in an incredible head space. We’ve gotten all the major necessary pre-baby tasks accomplished, so we’ve relishing in our bonus extra special free time. I went to see Moe at the Fillmore, because I could. We’ve discovered tasty sandwiches do exist in the east bay. I lost myself in the best french toast I’ve ever tasted (one of the many things I’ve snobby about) @ Aunt Mary’s Cafe.

I’ve been working at home, attempting to stay close at hand since labor could be imminent. After spending half the week at home, Stina told me to go to work. A watched pot never boils. Or a watched pregnant lady doesn’t break water. So I head in, and of course in the afternoon, I get the call. It was very surreal heading home on the train, listening to “Late for the Future”, looking at all my commuting companions, living very separate lives. I arrived home to delicious fresh baked banana bread muffins. That’s Stina in a nut shell. Her water breaks, so she makes muffins for the nurses.

Contractions have been mellow and distant, so she’s not in labor. Yet. We’ll have a baby before the weekend is over. That’s a pretty heavy sentence right there. Stina’s really had the miracle pregnancy. We were so worried about her body and her back. She’s experienced minor discomfort, but overall its been incredibly smooth sailing. And for that, we are grateful. She’s really had an incredibly positive attitude through this whole pregnancy thing. That gave me a long leash to freak out a lot. Good times. Now all we have to deal with is that labor bit. No big deal, right?

I find myself mentally shedding the things that have occupying my free time for the past 4 months or so. Going out, seeing music, eating at restaurants, and doing our own thing. I’ve been working on music with abandon as of late. I’ve made incredible progress on album #6 (and even a separate secondary album). It’s been somewhat stressful, full of the usual frustrations about flailing about without making any real progress. About two weeks ago I hit a major milestone where I pretty much have the whole next album mapped out. There’s a ton of work left to do, but I can see the big picture. I know the time I have for my music will be fleeting, so it’s incredibly comforting to feel that I will be productive with that time. And now I’m going to put that part of my life on a shelf for a little while. It’ll be there when I get a moment to breathe. Being a father doesn’t mean I’ll stop being a musician. It’s too much a fundamental part of who I am. I’m also keenly aware that being a father will become a new fundamental part of my identity. I’m not sure what thats going to be like. I won’t deny that some small part of me that feels like my entire life has been leading up to this moment.

The Inner Sunset has been my home for almost a decade. I love so many things about this place. Pub trans runs through here to almost every point in the city. It’s a tourist destination, but almost devoid of the issues that usually plague such places. It’s populated by a unpretentious multi cultural community that makes this neighborhood feel particularly separate from the rest of San Francisco.

Golden gate park is the best park on this planet. I certainly haven’t explored every facet of this 3 mile long outdoor playground, but I’ve given it a good go. The Botanical Garden is one of my first destinations when I’m seeking inspiration. Awesome festivals sweep through every season. I anticipate the first gorgeous days in the spring when hippie hill explodes with activity.  Bocce and Frisbee tossing in Big Rec was a staple in our social gatherings. There have been countless strolls through the park to the beach, always followed by a tasty beer at the Chalet.

The food here is out of control. Rarely a week goes by without Singapore curry noodles from the Lime Tree. Ebisu kills my wallet, but is simply too delicious to ignore.  The friendly and hopefully permanent fixture of Darla, and her brownie rewards.  Arezmendi’s, Plutos, Nan King Road Bistro, Underdogs organic sausages, it just goes on and on. I vaguely recall some crazy late night donut runs. The multiple late night pizza options are especially close to my heart. I’ve earned more free slices at Irving Street Pizza then I care to admit. Even Andronico’s, which is that bane of my existence with its insane prices, is sadly the epitome of convenience and delicious sandwiches. Fortunately, I can balance it out with cheap, quality produce at the produce store @ 10th. And now there’s a killer farmers market to boot. Good work, community.

The amazing new library. The Smokedaddies at the Blackthorn, every Wednesday. Thursday nights at the Academy of Science museum. Unusually friendly homeless folks. Walking, not driving, to the hospital. Catching the occasionally inspiring sunsets from the top of the hill on Funston. The ever present crowd outside of San Tung. Bobby the butcher. The sporadic telescope folks. The many incarnations of the Brewery. The growing facebook community. The “Yes We Can” house. A wave and smile from the folks at the cheese shop. The awesomeness that was the Canvas cafe. Pondering how there can be so many nail salons. I freaking love the Inner Sunset. I think I’ve been clear on that.

I’ve done an incredible amount with my life while living here.  I composed five albums of downtempo electronic music here. The second album was named “Inner Sunset” and has the processional for my wedding on it. You can download all my music for free @ www.generalfuzz.net (they’re worth listening to – my last album was voted #9 in the top 200 albums ever played on the nationally syndicated radio show echoes). Bija Yoga changed my life forever. I no longer have chronic back and wrist pain, and have been taught the extreme importance of breathing. I never set foot inside a yoga studio three years ago, and now plan on attending Yoga classes for the rest of my life.

My girlfriend and I moved in together for the first time on 8th Ave. Right when I walked out the door, the aromas from Pasquales would hit me like a mack truck and I would start salivating, even if I just ate. We got married a few years later and moved all the way down to 14th and Lincoln. Now we are about to embark on the “east bay shuffle”. You know, the one that often happens when you get pregnant. So it’s on to the next phase of our lives. Transitions are difficult, and I particularly suck at them. That’s ok. I’m sure there will be lots to appreciate about the next chapter in our lives. Allegedly life also thrives on the other side of that bridge.

Anyhow, I hope that you are able to touch upon why this neighborhood is so freaking special. I’ll miss it terribly.

Except for the fog.

That I can live without.

Stina took me along for a journey to Belize, and that turned out to be quite a privilege.

We spent much of our time on a island a 10 miles long and half a mile wide. Almost everyone spoke English, which simplified just about everything. Everyone we ran across was extraordinarily friendly, though half of them wanted to sell your something. Tourism is the major industry there.

For the first couple days that we were there, there couldn’t have been more then 10 percent tourists. We really enjoyed  being immersed in the local culture.

We stayed at the crazy swank Phoenix.

Nothing makes me madder then sunsets. Grrr.

An amazing enormous healthy reef was only half mile from the shore.

We journeyed into Guatemala to check out Tikal, a giant Mayan ruin. Our guide was Mayan priest, and he was a trip. In fact, that was a great theme for this trip – all the amazing colorful characters that we met along the way.

We spotted (or rather heard) the obnoxious cry of the howler monkeys in the jungle. That was pretty rad.


We even hit up some zip-lining while we were there. Nice.

We’re in the midst of wedding-paloza ‘09, and I wanted to do something fun for DaveP. So I shot down to LA for a weekend of good times and Dead shows. And now . . . some bullet points.

• I felt the need to be crafty on my day of birth, so I whipped up some appropriate beads



• I ran into my favorite show buddy in line for the plane to LA. We sat together and it set the perfect tone for the weekend.
• Dave and Keri took me to Oinkster for dinner, which is “slow fast food”. That means it’s wicked tasty. Amazing beers on tap to boot. Then we went to “Dave’s Chillin and Grilling” which unfortunately reset my high bar for sandwich snobbery. Now I have two places I must eat at every time I’m in LA. 
• LA traffic is ridonkulous. Even at midnight, there’s crazy traffic on highways. 
• The LA lot scene was fantastic. Two jam packed lanes of Shakedown. How I’ve missed a good lot scene. It was particularly hilarious when the unprepared parking people directed cars down the shakedown lanes. 



The most random thing I found in the lot was this:


• Dave, who likes to be prepared, had enough supplies in his cars to satisfy all our lot neighbors desires. He can also piss like a racehorse.
• I hate seeing shows at Arena’s, but this one had excellent sound. The underground bathroom was a dungeon though. 
• I have no tolerance for annoying hippies. The one right in front of us, thankfully got pushed a few rows back during the first set. During setbreak, full on verbal warfare almost escalated into physical mayhem. It made the long setbreak far more interesting.
• Warren Haynes is amazing. He was the right pick for Garcia.



• The Dead has embraced technology. It made the segment of space -> drums way cooler then it used to be.
• 30 minutes of Darkstar is too much Darkstar.
• Dave’s reaction to surprise is amusingly mild. When we walked into his house after the show Zaq was sitting at his kitchen table. 
• I haven’t slept in the same bed with Zaq since I was 8. The three of us yukked it up on a fantastic road trip up to SF.
• The lot scene at Shoreline ate it, since the fun police were out in force. Boo to that.
• I haven’t gone to a show with so many friends in ages. I’d forgotten how fun it was. Summer = chillin on the lawn at Shoreline with friends and great music




• Apparently the Dead love the Rolling Stones. We got different cover at each venue.  
• It was amusing to walk through the lot after the show where every hippie had locked their dog in their car and they were all going nuts. 

I know I’ve been neglecting my blog as of late. Good thing it doesn’t have feelings. I’m going to leave the country in five hours. TTFN.

My blog was hacked. Jordon pointed this out to me, and I was pissed. Then I realized this is what it is to be 13 year old boy in this day and age. I probably would have found it amusing  if I was 13. It certainly has less negative impact then, say, playing with matches inappropriately. 

But nonetheless, fuck you very much for hacking my blog, whomever you are.

I’ve wrestled it back under my control, with a little help from my best friend, the internet. Thank you, people who blog about what to do if your blog is hacked.

And for those dwindling few who read this blog through the website, I will eventually update the theme.

It feels life has taken a slightly more oppressive turn for the fine citizens of this planet. Interesting times we live in, to say the least. I’ve been super busy at work and life, hence the lack of personal internet fodder.

This time of year – the time between thanksgiving and x-mas – has so many famaliar rituals: The writing of the holiday letter, ungraciously aquiring a dead tree, the frenzy of Stina present creation, internet gift trolling, the preperation for our returning home to Boston. 

Last week, we duked Haber with a contrived plot to take him out to dinner, only to lead him to a fully improvised bollywood themed puppet show. We really had no idea what we getting into. An improv comedy troupe named un-scripted puts on shows in their fancy little theater hidden in the depths of downtown SF. They conjured up an entire two act show loosely based around plot elements culled from the audience at the beginning of the show. The lack of a safety net really heightened the excitement. They occasionally stumbled, and they needled each other mercilessly when plot developments didn’t make sense. The integration of puppets was really excellent. There was lots of breaking into bad bollywood song, which was always a gamble. All in all, it was really fun, and I want to go see the same “show” again to see how much it varies from night to night.

There were actually another little theater in the building, and the other show was titled “Abraham Lincolns Big Gay Dance Party” I was a little saddened by our selection, since the other show had a title that really grabbed you by the balls. After chatting with a patron who was attending that show during the shared intermission, I determined that we had made the right choice after all.

Jason Haber was largely responsible for organizing my fairly epic bachelor party, so it was a matter of principle coupled with revenge that I organize his. Many months back he vaguely requested having a red team vs. blue team type of thing, so I ran with that idea and themed it “Jason vs. Lars” as they are both engaged and have been good friends since middle school.

Twenty or so of us form two teams for a long afternoon of entertaining competitive events.

Events like monkey torture,

long distance loogie,

and nipple tweaking.

There were even judged events, with celebrity judges consisting of people of close proximity to 20 men in jump suits.
My favorite judged event was having Jason and Lars propose to each other.

Goooooooooood times.

By the end of afternoon, we were totally spent – except for Matt . . . .

Team Haber DOMINATED over team Lars. It was a total blowout.

After some manly downtime @ chez Krudden,

we rallied for round 2. We had assembled a list of 30 tasks for Haber and the group to accomplish, and we did shockingly well. Shockingly.

We got much of a muni car to sing “We are the world with us”,

while A-town did pullups.

Haber gave us a speech about “how it is”,

we got thousands of signatures from women pledging not to sleep with Haber (this guy translated our “contract” to Italian),

and Tony got kicked in the box.

So, yeah. It was a nice 13 hour party. The late night girls and boys met up @ chez Krudden the final blow out.

BIG UPS to TonyB for the killer pics.

We bid farewell to our sweet slightly mangled car, which took us on many a great adventure.

On Sunday, Stina, Rachel, and I went to enjoy day two of the free North Beach Jazz fest. The line up was surprisingly rather jamband friendly – One the One (whom I really dig), the Dan Lebowitz group, and New Monsoon. There was actually another group, who supposedly headlined, but it was the worst kind of free jazz, and hasted our departure. Well, sorta.

I have a show buddy that lives in my neighborhood.  I saw her during the festy, and offered her lift home in Rachel’s car. There was some weirdness when we were ready to leave while she determined if she wanted to go with us, and after a long-ish while, she decided to. I wasn’t able to read the signs very well. Long story short is that she’s had a very difficult time lately and proceeded to have a fairly substantial panic attack on the ride home. Our journey went very slowly, and we pulled over several times along the way. I eventually agreed to talking with her when we got home, which was taking on a lot of responsibility. In the end, she bailed during the last stop on the ride home, and took a cab back to the festival to meet up with some of her friends.

The whole experience was really intense, and rocked me to the core.  I had already resigned myself to talking with someone who was a in really tough, emotionally unstable place, and then abruptly I didn’t have to. As soon as I was able to begin to process this event, one of my first thoughts was “something positive (for me) is going to come out of this” This was a little jarring and unintuitive, but I accepted it. I’ve experienced enough tough emotional situations to recognize that good things always come out of them. At this point of my life, I associate intense experiences with personal growth.

I felt terrible guilty for not offering more support, and fairly responsible for her. After I processed the event a little more, I started to see a few other things. Right after I was resigned to talk with her, Stina quietly but insistingly told me she would come with me to talk with this lady. That was the most beautiful and selfless gift, and spoke volumes about who she is. Stina also really helped me come to terms with what level of responsibility I really wanted to take on with this person. Rachel was really excellent at setting boundaries for what was acceptable, and helped move the situation along, as well as being very tolerant and understanding. I brought this into her car – and while it sucked and was fully my fault that the person came with us, I didn’t feel that Rachel blamed me. So while this was a pretty negative situation, it really made me aware how much I love my friends (slash wife).

Something good did come out of it.

This piece by Gizmodo is awesome – especially if you have fond memories (or a current obsession) of Lego’s. Also, a peek inside the secret Lego vault.