Chicago Symphony Orchestra - Mahler Symphony No 5

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Last week I attended the final performance of Gustav Mahler's Fifth Symphony. I picked my ticket up at the box office and had two hours to kill until the performance. So I went and shopped for a pair of cuff links to complete the buttonless French cuff shirt I had on.  

Come Third Call I was thrilled to find that my seat was front and center -- literally! I was looking up the conductor's (Semyon Bychkov) backside. Front row seats are golden for any other concert but not a symphony orchestra.


The piece opens with the Funeral March and, god, what a long procession it was. My eyelids grew heavy (out of respect for the somber moment) and I respectfully fell asleep before the ending. Judging by the rousing applause that awakened me the musicians did it justice. At intermission I had a cup of chocolate and a sip of whiskey and stayed awake for the second half of the performance.


Thursday's evening concert was generously sponsored by Mr & Mrs Joseph A. Hays through their commitment to the Center Stage Society.

on Michigan Ave near Chicago Art Institute
312.294.3000
www.CSO.org

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JOURNAL: OCTOBER 13, 2009

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Oct 13

   Am at the airport with hours to spare! My mistake in missing last week's flight was a result of softness. I had a safety net: I had the "extra" money to afford another hotel stay, to say nothing of another flight. Lesson learned. The hard way. I was also wide awake well before the alarm because someone checked into the room in the middle of the night. A while later I re-awoke to her snoring. Jesusfuckingchrist. 
   But am at the airport.
   My four hour layover in Heathrow was not the drag I imagined; far from it. That is the best airport I've been in, and so much changed from my first visit, what, two years ago. Ordered the beef & kidney pudding (with peas and "chips") plus a side of onion rings and ginger beer. Delicious but I did not fancy the taste of kidneys. 

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JOURNAL: OCTOBER 12, 2009

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Oct 12

   The two Indians have left [to another hostel room]. Nice fellows but that prayer music and sleeping with the lamp lighted was much; and worst of all was the freight train snoring. My sleep will be a good one tonight. No ear plugs.

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H.I. Portland - Northwest (Portland)

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Absolutely refuses lodgings to non-money card holders. Cash is not accepted. I asked if that also pertained to H.I. members. The man on the phone answered, "Yes. We can't accept you without a credit card. It's our policy."

What good is being a member if you can't enter the lodge?

This is a stupid policy. They should shove it up their asses or, better yet, scrap it. And as for turning away HI members, what good is being a member if you can't enter the lodge? 

It's a pity Portland only offers this and another H.I. hostel. We travellers need more and better options. 


425 NW 18th Ave
503.241.2783
www.nwportlandhostel.com

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JOURNAL: OCTOBER 9, 2009

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Oct9

   Barack Obama is Nobel Peace Prize winner. Got the news while travelling on the autobahn to Berlin. Once back at the hostel I got online and read the news for myself. Somebody somewhere is cooking this stuff up! First senator, then President, now Nobel Peace Prize....
    I bought a round-trip flight from Berlin to Montreal. Departure next Tuesday. It cost over 400euros which means I essentially lost $500 because I was too cool to get my ass to the airport ahead of time.

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H.I. Portland - Hawthorne (Portland)

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This hostel is hippy in appearance but corporate in attitude. Like the only other HI hostel in town it is more concerned with credit card holders than travellers (but unlike the HI Portland - Northwest the Portland - Hawthorne does not completely discriminate against cash).


I don't use plastic and it was an hour before I could reserve a bed. I literally had to be thirty minutes away before the bastards would "probably" hold a bed for me. Great backpacker spirit! Just be sure to be in the rucksack with MasterCard and Visa! Once there I was explained a small litany of rules to stay by. My stay was all right and the hostel is clean and eclectic and the beds do include blankets and linens but I could not shake off the corporate-ness of the place. Didn't find it all that welcoming. This is not to imply the staff looked at me cross or were in any way racist or rude. But they are all about "policy".

Minutes after I'd signed in one poor guy with a broken arm was sent back out into the rain because he shared, just as he signed the guest register, that he'd been off and on in Oregon since December looking for steady work. Whoops, too much information! The hostel's policy expressly prohibits "residents" from receiving lodgings. Didn't matter he paid with a credit card either. Broken arm homeboy was sent on his way. I was laughing my ass off (on the inside). Here he is trying to be all familiar and chatted himself right out of a bed...and, man, was he pissed!!

I could not shake off the corporate-ness of the place

I passed through Portland two weeks later but didn't even entertain the thought of staying here again. It's located in Portland's Bohemian District but outside of the eccentric appearances of the furnishings and staff there ain't nothing Bohemian about this hostel.



3031 SE Hawthorne Blvd
503.236.3380
www.portlandhostel.org

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Liberal bullshit in Puerto Vallarta

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vallartascene.com

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JOURNAL: OCTOBER 8, 2009

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Oct 8

   Best laid plans of mice and men.... Missed the plane. My miscalculation of the subway travel to the airport was woefully off. Where I heard fifteen he actually said fifty--as in minutes. Why didn't he [reception] just say "an hour"?! Nobody does anything in fifty minutes! It's either forty-five or an hour. Fuck me. I cannot let myself repeat this stupidity. Well. Another misadventure for me. Have been in far worse spots of distress but this time I dare complain (but just a bit).
   Back to the drawing board.

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JOURNAL: OCTOBER 7, 2009

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Oct 7

   In Hamburg for the night since I depart in the morning for Toronto. Back to North America--and in short order, Mexico--tomorrow.

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Mr President meet Sr Presidente

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The Obama Administration hosts a state dinner in honor of Mexican President Felipe Calderon. But with his invitation to speak (and save face with Mexicans) perhaps

"Mexico's Calderon Needs to Listen, Not Just Lecture U.S."

click to read Time article

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JOURNAL: OCTOBER 1, 2009

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Oct 1

   Finally attended a show: Qi; at the Friedrichstadt Palast was so fantastic. I was smiling and in awe through most of the show. The numbers did not do much for the male dancers except to show why they preferred theatre to, say, sports or the military. One number in particular was too homoerotic to be taken seriously. The players were supposed to be fighting but battling men do not caress each other. Outside of that I was blown away by the acrobats, comedic duo, and musical numbers. Very glad to have gone to the show.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 23, 2009

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Sept 23

post scriptum: almost forgot to record my second assault by supposedly customs officers which means my identification was requested twice within twenty-four hours by these racist pigs. Only one of the two spoke and he balked upon being handed a US passport, How can you complain when the US always wants papers to get in? Not everyday! Since he claimed to be on the alert for Amsterdam marijuana I told him to use drug sniffing dogs. Don't explain me my job, said the bitch pig and walked away.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 22, 2009

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Sept 22

    Left Seefeld for Munich en route to Berlin. It's Oktoberfest so there were drunken fools in Bavarian garb all over the damn place. No sooner did I arrive was I confronted by two assholes who supposedly were undercover agents of some shit. 
  Like Amsterdam, Munich thrilled me none at all. The famous Oktoberfest--my passing through was coincidental--is an obnoxious bore. The foreigners were loud drunkards...and the Germans were loud drunkards in funny dress. Found no lodgings. I stayed up the whole night bent on leaving on the morrow. 

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Seven Grand (Los Angeles)

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Oh show me the way to the next whisky bar/ Oh don't ask why/ Oh don't ask why

On my recent pass through L.A. a dear and longtime friend (a fellow HOBY alumnus) surprised me with a trip to a touch of elegance in downtown. No, we didn't meet the crazy celloist. Even better: Seven Grand whiskey bar. Talk about swank!

From the carpeted and wooden stairway to the walls heavily adorned with trophy heads, antique photos, and oodles of red plaid one is immediately transported back in time when style did not dabble in transgenderwear and cocktails were en vogue. At the top of the stair is the bar. Behind the bar are smart-looking barkeeps sporting collar and tie and apron (the female bartenders, am told, were plaid skirts but on this night there were only men on duty). The barkeeps were civil and professional: "What can I get for you, sir?" 

 when style did not dabble in transgenderwear and cocktails were en vogue

The walls are lined with whiskey bottle after whiskey bottle after whiskey bottle. The prices are a tad steep ($11 minimum cocktail) but the whiskeys and service are premium and, so, if one wants to treat himself, indulge himself, to a mature drinking experience, then the Seven Grand is well worth it. I had a whisky sour while my friend, an old fashion. Note: no cover charge. 

More on the decor: fat, country club leather sofas, painted wallpaper, low lighting, a billiard table, several tables and leather stools, plenty of mounted heads, and an outdoor patio lounge. The entire bar is ensconced with a rich, masculine, woodsy coziness. Or, as my friend put it, a touch of "Mad Men" permeated the place.   

515 West 7th Street (and Grand)
website

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 21, 2009

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Sept 21

   Played golf! After all these years--five maybe?--my game was is not so gone. Did not expect much and so began with a good frame of mind. My first hole put that optimism to the test; but then I parred the very next hole (3) and the following one and wound up with a pleasant, wonderful 9-hole round in the Alps amongst the charming Bavarianesque surroundings; plus the weather was bright and sunny and calm. Despite last night's farce of travel and zero sleep I could not put off this opportunity to try such a beautiful course.

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JOURNAL: SEPTEMBER 20, 2009

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Sept 20

   Due to poor planning I totally missed every connection to Innsbruck. Caught the last bus leaving to Florence under night rain. Once again the driver did not collect the ticket. More money spent for nothing....I wind up missing the night train because of goddamn name confusion...three different stations with 'Firenze' in the name! So more waiting. Italy has been one big expensive waste of time and funds....Tavernelle was, in hindsight, nicer a stay than Firenze or Milano.

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"Vigil" (San Francisco)

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What's not to like about San Francisco? Besides the downtown, fierce winds and chill, over abundant hippy vibe, anal, retro rebel-wannabe doormen, and downtown (it's so ugly it bears repeating) the city is quite a diggable place.


S.F. leaves no room for boredom. Unlike the flashing aggressiveness of, say, NYC, San Francisco simply leaves one a catalog of goings-on from which to choose like the wine list of a posh restaurant: various grapes from various regions accessible to different budgets without pretension or condescension. Same goes for its citizens and customer service, including bus drivers!



One of the few events I did take in was the play "Vigil" by Morris Panych playing at the American Conservatory Theater (A.C.T.) and starring Marco Barricelli and Olympia Dukakis. Turns out it was the last performance. Lucky me! I rarely regret a trip to the theatre, unlike some of the juvenile crap playing in cinemas, and "Vigil" was no exception. The two-player play was carried wonderfully by Mr Barricelli who for most of the show was the only character with lines! It's easy to see why Mr Panych's story about mortality and family ties has been translated in various languages already.


A.C.T.
(415) 749-2228

415 Geary St.

San Francisco, CA, 94102 

website

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Dakota Hotel (San Francisco)

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Dakota Hotel is the sister lodgings of The Adelaide Hostel and they are but a stone's throw away from each other. I'd stayed in the Adelaide before and tried to book a bed there this time but, having no vacancies, was recommended the Dakota. Okay.


Room rates are the same (affordable $25 dorm) and neither discriminates against cash/non-plastic holders--unlike some "hostels". The structure of the place is old-hotel charm: working cage elevator, wooden stair (whose interlocking remind me of the Arts&Craft Movement), narrow hallways, wooden floors and a standing bathtub with shower fixture...plus very polite staff. In the lobby are two FREE computers (most guests were good about not hogging up time) and wi-fi is also available for FREE. I was even able to get reception in my room.


The room, a 6 bed male dorm, was comfortable and clean. Not anal spotless but nonetheless clean. The bed came with linen (and a towel) and made for a good night's sleep. Although the bed frames are metal I don't recall them being squeaky. None of the four locks I carried fit the locker and, although, reception sold locks ($4) I wasn't game for buying yet another one; I spoke with the owner and he was reasonable and kind enough to trade me lock for lock while I stayed there. All the benefits of the Adelaide--FREE breakfast, $5 home-made dinners, reading lounge, more FREE computers, book exchange, and general co-mingling--are available to guests.


I can now say I do prefer this hostel a little bit more largely due to the bath tub, its address is hard to miss, and the blessed absence of the old lady who still babbles to herself over in the Adelaide as well as those two adorable, hyper resident children.

(415) 931-7475
606 Post St, zip code 94109

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Adelaide Hostel revisited (San Francisco)

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I was glad to see two black men and a black woman among the hostel staff. Three black workers! Wow, I've never before seen as many in one hostel. Gone San Francisco! Minus the addition of much more long furniture in the lounge area the hostel was pretty much the same as on my first stay: exxxcellent.


(415) 359.1915
5 Isadora Duncan Lane, zip code 94102
www.adelaidehostel.com

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Chicago Blackhawks beat Vancouver Canucks

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I couldn't care less for hockey but I was glad to cheer on the Canuck's loss tonight at the hands of the visiting team, the Blackhawks. Vancouver is rainy and cold but the reception I got from the border patrol was colder. The Vancouver border pigs gave me a hard time when I crossed over via Washington last Friday. 


Have you ever been arrested any time in your life ever? was the first question put to me. 


Do they ask every visitor this question...or just black men?! And then the inquiries delved into psychology, wondering what I thought of the police after said incident? Are women asked to clarify their marital status? 

Why not?

She may be broke and on the prowl for a meal ticket in the form of a husband (or "wife" thanks to Canada's fucked up liberalism). Are old people asked about their health? No? Otherwise if they should injure themselves or croak it would be good Canadian taxpayers' money used to get an ambulance onto the scene. Are foreigners grilled about their past marijuana usage? After all those people could be coming over to 'abuse' the country's liberal attitude towards drug use. No, I guess the only profiling that makes sense is racial profiling.

Before finally letting me through the pig reminded me thus: "Remember, don't stay too long." Hello! Is that any way to treat a guest?! I'd rather be conscripted in Belgium's faggot army than reside or hideout in Canada. Cock-sucking Canuck.

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