Yesterday was an intriguing day, but auspicious signs during the course of it, signalled I was on the right path and where I was meant to be according to the cosmic design.
Early in the day, when I was unable to locate the LA Times, I settled for the San Francisco Chronicle which I plucked up at the local newstand.
As I quickly gleaned the pages, I spied an iintriguing article on disappearing Sea Lions in San Francisco Bay, which I clipped out to refer to for a potential post later in the week on the environment.
The rest of the day's schedule filled up pretty quickly - and the energy expended to keep abreast of it - ended up rustling up a craving for munchies around 7 p.m.
As I scoured Market Street for an inviting diner to slip into, I spied Books Inc, and thought I'd pop in to snatch up the Times (to read over dessert).
For the first time on this visit to Frisco (after searching high & low for the Los Angeles daily) a cashier at the back desk finally informed me that the newspaper did not have a distributor in the tony Bay area.
So, I was SOL.
With a sigh, I started to turn away, when I noticed a gaggle of fold-up chairs uniformly placed around a small podium in the center of the backroom.
Just as that image caught my eye, I suddenly realized that customers were strolling in and taking seats, for what appeared to be an in-house literary event.
The cute staffer informed me that writer Mark Abramson - who penned the popular "Beach Series" tome - Russian River Rat - would be reading a few paragraphs from his latest (as yet unpublished) offering.
Unfortunately, I was not familiar with the author or his celebrated book on the Russian River hot-spot.
In fact, I'm probably the only the single male to have never trekked up to the popular resort for a week-end of camp.
I've heard all the - gossip, rumors, and innuendo - though.
All true, I gather from trustworthy sources (oh, yeah!).
As it turns out, that morning the Chronicle mentioned the event - but for some inexplicable reason - I didn't stumble across it (just the report on Sea Lions).
How ironic!
As the - witty, outgoing, middle-aged author prepared to read excerpts from "Snowball" - he chortled in an aside that the manuscript may have to undergo some judicious edits before the publishing phase, if the Sea Lions continued to vanish from the bay.
Apparently the delightful sea creatures play a major role in uncovering a macabre twist in the plot.
Talk about synchronicity!
At this juncture, soothed by the realization that I was where I was meant to be at that given moment in time, I settled in for a very entertaining night at the bookstore.
The author was blessed with a packed house - in fact - several fans of his reading style were forced to stand (due to a lack of chairs) as he delighted us all with excerpts from - not only the new book - but from old favorites other book-lovers in the cozy nook were familiar with.
Then, there was a special surprise treat.
Mark pointed out that a publisher back east was interested in his "Diaries" which consisted of entries that stretched back a few decades.
So, he was inclined to read a couple of highly-personal notes from those intimate "memoires", fortunately for his enthusiastic fan base in attendance.
Abramson selected a couple of entries from January 7th (1975, I believe) because that was the date of yesterday's book-reading.
It was going to be interesting to learn what was on his mind the same day so many moons ago.
Imagine that!
The musings all focused on his first attempt to join a writer's group (early on in his literary career) and his hand-wringing about this 'n that - what to toss over his muscular bod to attract a trick and which choice poems to select to best represent his style (in that order!) - and so forth and so on.
As to last night's venture into celebrity, well, he was warmly received by the surprisingly down-to-earth cross-section of gay men who casually-strolled in totally devoid of attitude.
On occasion, Mr. Abramson's interaction with the rapt audience was highly personal in nature.
Some of the unforgettable experiences inspired his writing, naturally.
For example, he introduced one character - in his cast of many - who became affectionately known as the "bug chaser".
At one point in the early days of the outbreak, older gay men in the throes of various stages of the disease, commanded a remarkable outpouring of love from a compassionate community anxious to reach out and provide comfort in the hour of suffering.
In response to that, a curious phenomenon arose in the gay community, which was shocking to some.
A number of young gays (18-24 age-range basically) felt left out - after all, in neighborhoods like the Castro, West Hollywood, and elsewhere - those stricken with the killer virus were taken into the fold at support groups and hands-on treatment centers and were even provided with free prescription drugs for a myriad of ailments and funding to defray housing costs.
Subsequently, these hapless misguided kids actively sought out older gay men afflicted with the disease, to infect them (willingly or not).
The ratings skyrocketed, of course!
During the course of the readings last night, there were a number of humorous moments, as well.
The unassuming writer (who - like many S.F. dudes - shaves his head) joked about white sheets referred to in one chapter.
A couple of the guests reacted in a knee-jerk Martha Stewart kind-of-way.
"Who buys white sheets," one roared!
In response, Mark - quick on the uptake - chirped up.
"Well, I figure, if ever there was an emergency, you could wave them to attract help."
Of course, this triggered an old memory from my past.
So, we thought it might be a touch risque - and a real adrenalin rush - to lay down in the grass and smooch a little in the bright mid-day sun with Mother Nature's bounty serenading us all around.
Right-off-the-bat, we figured we'd better go off the beaten path (so to speak), and far from the madding crowd.
Curiously, when we hiked up towards the peak of one hill, the foliage diminished somewhat - and eventually - consisted of mainly low-lying shrubs.
Oh well, we were far enough away from prying eyes, that we figured we would be able to snuggle-up without any unexpected intrusions on our intimate moment in the park.
Unfortunately, my friend was wearing bright white undershorts.
Wouldn't 'ya know it, just as we were in the midst of our clinch, we suddenly heard the thunderous roar of a whirly-bird.
We jumped up and scanned the skies to determine if it was nearby.
Turns out, it was the Channel 5 News helicopter (normally used to chart the afternoon rush-hour traffic for the news anchors at the station) heading right in our direction.
OMG!
They must have seen the white flash of his skivvies hanging ten from the bushes below and thought someone was crying out for help!
Well, quick as a wink, we were buttoning up and scooting down the slope to high-tail it outta there.
I intended to tell the story to Mr. Abramson after the readings, but he was busy signing books (so I passed).
Hopefully, he'll stumble on this post, and have a good laugh!
For the most part, the event ran like clock-work, though I did have some frustrations when I was video-taping Mark Abramson for this post.
Unfortunately, a gentleman who plunked down in a seat just ahead of me and slightly to the left, spoiled some of the tantalizing footage.
Gosh, he was not unlike some extra on a movie set in Hollywood, who tries to get his mug on camera - and in the process - ends up upstaging the star.
When he noticed the video camera in my hand, for instance, his behaviour got downright bizarre.
At first, he half-turned in his chair, to try to get his profile in the shots!
Then, at one point, he actually bent over - smack dab in the middle of the lens - and took a moment to re-tie his running shoes!
Duh.
Was he there to actually take in the precious moments being offered up (for free) by the author - or - simply there to be ever-mindful that his bootstraps were properly strung up?
On a couple of occasions, he also made a point of glancing at items on a shelf to our right.
When I looked over to see what was allegedly catching his eye, I was taken aback to see the items mostly consisted of toys (and games) for kids.
Pervert, perhaps?
Gosh, it was just a ploy to get on-camera!
At one point, I was tempted to lean over and point out that his inconsiderate behaviour was ruining shots I intended to post on the Internet to promote the author and his books.
In a nutshell, he was destroying golden opportunities meant for the writer, alright.
But, since I am a bit of a fatalist, I struggled through the sorry scenario without uttering a peep.
So, when you take a gander at the videos provided at the link(s) below, you'll understand why the author is closer to the left frame (and not centered).
I was trying to prevent the nutty fruitcake from weasling his way into frame!
If 'ya notice a blur or two on the videos - yup! - that's bits and pieces of his body parts (arm, head, etc.) floating in and out of the frame erratically which caught me off-guard.
Life in Baghdad by the sea, eh?
Mark Abramson reads entries from "Diaries"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7OwLLiTsUU
Mark Abramson reads excerpts from "Snowball" & other material
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VlMmGEtGvs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tt_W16OmP4o
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