Tag Archives: San Francisco

Oh, the boys

A quick shout out to the fantastic San Francisco Boys Chorus (SFBC). which is celebrating its 60th anniversary this weekend! I was in the SFBC from around 1993 through 2001 and the organization helped me more than I will ever be able to articulate. It helped me find a love for music while also instilling infinite creativity, discipline, and more. I also served as a camp counselor for the SFBC for several years; it was a fantastic summer experience for all ages.

They got a write-up in the SF Chronicle too so go check ’em out if you can grab a ticket at the historic San Francisco Opera House. The program for the concert has a mix of crazy stuff including a rarely heard uber-modern piece set to a genome text. Wow, all I ever sang was classical stuff. Some of the cute little kids (there are about a few hundred more boys in the chorus than there was when I was in it) will also demonstrate their abilities at doing fantastic choreography, so watch out for that too!


New Glasses

I got two new pairs of glasses! For those of you know me well, you know I take great pride in my glasses. For a long time I was well known for my signature blue rimless glasses before losing them in China two summers ago. Before this purchase, I wore orchid color T2s which weigh two grams. This time, I chose two frames from See Eyewear on Union Street. They have their own label. One of the two new pairs is a wrap-style blue and black. The other pair is a rust-color half-rimless.

The American Hunter

Among the many news feeds I get every day, I always look forward to The Grist, an online news journal that uses some nice wit in conveying the top environmental stories each day. Required as part of my Environmental Policy course, I often flag stories for my ongoing list of articles I read over at Google Reader (RSS).

One that caught my attention today: The American Hunter is a Dying Breed. All throughout my various courses on environmental studies has been the hunter as a conservationist. No hunters, no money for conservation. No conservation, no animals, no hunters. My dad is a hunter and he loves it. As much as people are sometimes turned off by the “barbaric hunter” ideas, I think more people need to realize that hunters are good. They care about the environment too and sometimes they are the strong supporters of protecting waterfowl and wetlands, etc. So, go out there and find the hunters among you! Maybe even thank them for all the duck-stamps they buy…


What does the word “abundance” mean to you?

When I arrived this weekend in California for my cousin Jessica Kellett’s wedding, I was challenged to think about abundance for a one-minute speech during the ceremony.

Some B.S. usually would suffice for such an occasion. Waxing prophetic on love, joy, and happiness seemed to be norm but my two cents went something like this:

I am young. Younger than Ryan and Jess. So I don’t know about love, joy, or happiness yet. So instead I want to talk about the abundance of something else, something that perhaps I know something more about. What it does it mean to have an abundance of listening, an abundance of understanding? Listening and understanding are of the utmost importance to me and I wish upon Jess and Ryan the greatest amounts of listening and understanding. For not only will it be central to Jess and Ryan’s relationship over the next many years, it will be central to the world over the next many years. And so I bestow liberal amounts of listening and understanding for Ryan and Jess on this truly wonderful day.

Congratulations to my cousin Jess and her new hubby Ryan (I like his name)!

Why Aren’t You Working?

There is an excellent article on SFGate.com today on a phenomenon that San Francisco knows all too well: why aren’t your working?! Here is a snippit:

Who are these people? At any given hour on any given workday, well, it turns out it’s not a workday at all. Not for these hordes roaming free, anyway. By rights our parks and movie theaters and stores should be minor ghost towns between 9 and 5 — chanced upon by the occasional tourist or late-night bartender but otherwise peaceful. Instead, they’re inexplicably packed. I didn’t doubt that the packers had sound explanations. I just wanted to hear them.

My dad brought this to my attention when he first moved his office to Union street in San Francisco — home of stroller-pushers and 2-hour lunch breaks.