This is out at the Alviso Marina County Park, and although the house-shaped dock marker is the object in my mind when I wrote one of the shoot-outs in “Teddy Screwed Up”, seeing it today reminded me in no uncertain terms that a lot has changed in the South Bay since I called it home — which has been sixteen years, though really it’s been more than twenty since I had really hung out in Alviso. Teddy lives in the Alviso I remember, and that’s okay for him/me.
Fern had to come down to Mountain View for training and it sounded like a great opportunity to take the day off and visit my haunts while she trained at the Big G (no, she’s not really working there… it’s a long story). Turns out she was going to their secondary campus out by Moffett, which, damn, the new-to-me changes started coming hard and fast. Where’s the Blue Cube? Where’d all these buildings come from?
I dropped her off at ten and determined that the first thing I had to do was visit some family — first stop, Alta Mesa cemetery.
Okay, hold that, first stop was Costco, Mountain View. I well remember when Costco came to Mountain View, but at the time I was ticked off because I was getting into old Honda motorcycles and the best motorcycle pick and pull in the Bay Area resided on the spot that In’n’Out sits, and they cleared that whole corner at once. Things were changing fast back then, and that was when Google wasn’t a glimmer in Larry and Sergey’s eyes.
So what was at Cosctco? Flowers!
There’s a line from the Bright Eyes song “Four Winds
Then it was off to Alta Mesa. Jill told me not to bother checking with the office to find out locations and she chastised me to “Just take a breath and remember when we used to go visit with Nana.” She was right — I walked straight to the mausoleum where my Nana is now with my grandfather and uncle — neither of which I really knew when they were alive, but I (obviously) remember visiting after they were gone. From there it was muscle memory again that brought me next door to my dad’s parents (again, I never got to know them, but I visited them in the mausoleum). I left generous bouquets at both spots and told both Mom’s and Dad’s parents that they were loved, missed, and remembered.
On my way out, I threaded my way through a Samoan funeral just breaking up and made one last stop before leaving Alta Mesa. Someone marked Google Maps with a point for Steve Job’s grave. Color me curious, I remember reading shortly after he passed that he wanted to be buried in Alta Mesa where his parents were buried, but also that he wanted an unmarked grave, lest it become a shrine. A quick search indicated the marker on the map was probably due to some Italian bloggers claiming to have found his unmarked grave because a) it was near David and Lucile Packard and b) when they filmed their YouTube video shortly after his death there was a freshly filled-in grave nearby. I followed the landmarks in the video to that spot… which now had the marker for a couple (not Steve Jobs). So, you know, no flowers for Steve.
From there it was a straight shot down Foothill Expressway (with a quick detour through downtown Los Altos which is so changed from my childhood… and Jack and Jay, if either of you are reading, the lights in the trees a) are STILL UP and b) look like crap. I’m just saying. Totally not biased. In the parking lot outside the little garden and columbarium at Los Altos United Methodist Church I first lamented that the Andronico’s Market across the expressway was now a Safeway. Though as I put together the bouquet for my mom and dad I realized that when Andronico’s went in I was lamenting the loss of Rancho Market and the bottle shop next door where I used to get Garbage Pail Kids after school on my bike ride home.
I wished my dad a happy belated birthday, and told them both how much I missed them. I cried. Wept, really. That fits better. Wept. I told them I was writing a lot more, that I was pretty sure my mom would love it. And then I cried more. It’s funny, you know? When you lose folks you love and of course you move on, and the grief lessens, and, as it was so wonderfully put in “Sleepless In Seattle”: “I’m gonna get out of bed every morning… breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won’t have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out…” After you don’t have to remind yourself to breathe in and out and you think you’re fine, that you’re past it all… and then you let yourself feel. Wept. I wept.
After that, I needed something to move forward. I needed to do something new in this valley of memories. So I decided to conquer a childhood fear of mine: The Blue Max. As a kid, I remember going to the Fish and Chips place next door tucked in the corner of the strip mall in Sunnyvale at Hollenbeck and El Camino Real. Next door was a dive bar called The Blue Max after the 1966 film about a fighter pilot in the first World War. There were no windows to see inside The Blue Max, and the door was some heavy dark wood that remained closed beneath overly stern “MUST BE 21 OR OLDER” signs. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the intimidation The Blue Max inspired in young, impressionable Jordy put me off of dive bars until about five years ago. Since then, I’ve discovered a few things about dive bars. First, they’re not so scary. Really. Second, they’re actually pretty fantastic, especially if you are interested in (surreptitiously) people watching. In an effort to move forward, I pulled open the heavy dark door and stepped in through the swinging doors (see?! Heavy door AND swinging doors — this place was an impenetrable fortress to young Jordy!) and into… about the most Old School place that remains in the greater South Bay. There’s other places left, I’m sure, but the dimly lit bar and its older clientèle — about a dozen folks, the youngest of which had at least a dozen years on me — felt like a dark wood and ancient tobacco-smelling oasis in a valley so enamored with the new and with change. In honor of my dad, I ordered a 7&7 and just took in the scene and the people around me and chastised myself for not coming in sooner and promising myself I’d come back again next time I’m town.
Eventually I exited the Blue Maxx and blinked my eyes against the overly-bright and warm February sun, my eyes adjusting to see the fresh high-rise construction on two of the corners opposite the strip mall. The bartender told me the owner of the place for the last 45 years sold it this last November. However she also said the only thing that changed was a new bank of beer taps that quadrupled their beer selection. Here’s hoping it’ll remain an oasis in the Valley for another 45 years.
A little nostalgic, I made my way out to Alviso — which brings us back to the picture up top. Shortly after my dad died, my mom found a coupon for Vahl’s in Alviso and she was as curious about the town as I was. I remember we pulled up as the sun was setting and a train rumbled through town and out over the slough, headed for Sacramento and beyond. Vahl’s is closed on Mondays, but it’s still there — another holdout from a long-ago past. I’ll take it. Fern texted me saying that she was ready to be picked up. I looked out across the water to the salt mounds on the other side of the bay (far smaller than they were when I was younger), took in a deep breath of the salty air, and as I let it out I folded up my memories of Alviso, of Sunnyvale, of Mountain View, of Los Altos and I put them away. I wound my way back onto 237 towards the shiny new office buildings that replaced the Blue Cube and I smiled knowing my hometown(s) will always be mine.
Five Things This Week: Week 5, 2018
New name for this Friday feature. Trying to give it a fun look. We’ll see, I’ll probably change my mind by next week. Until then, here are Five Things I hope you find interesting, enlightening, or just quirky!
Outside Magazine
A plot of land dotted with historic structures and completely surrounded by national parks has been put up for sale by the family that’s held it for more than a hundred years. Poised between preservation and development, it exemplifies myriad land battles in the West, particularly this fairly Tony section of the West.
Atlas Obscura
This is right in my wheelhouse — forgotten cemeteries? check. Marginalized people pushed aside until history remembers them? check. Sad, but fascinating.
Austin Kleon blog
This quote from the article says it best: “[…T]he best thing you can do as an artist or a creative person is pretend you’re Phil Connors in Groundhog Day: there’s no tomorrow, there’s no chance of success, there’s no chance of failure, there’s just the day, and what you can do with it.”
For the last year I’ve tried on a lot of different political podcasts. I started my odyssey with NPR Politics and its the one I keep coming back to. After the State of the Union speech this week, this was the podcast I most wanted to listen to and it was a salve. I’m not going to pretend they don’t have a bias, but they have far less bias than you might think. Give it a chance.
The Go Team – Semicircle
This is pure exuberance. When the six-piece band from the UK released Thunder, Lightning, Strike! back in 2004 you’d be excused for thinking them a novelty with their cheerleader-chants and weird sounds with rock. Semicircle, now their fifth album, dropped last month, and they sound as fresh as ever. It’s music as potent as a good shot of caffeine.
Spotify: The Go! Team – Semicircle; iTunes: The Go! Team – Semicircle
Larry, Destroyer of Worlds
I am Larry, destroyer of worlds – no, seriously, that’s my thing. That’s what I do. And in the process I maintain the fabric of our reality. That sounds like a big deal – and it kind of is – but here’s the thing: no one has any idea I do this.
Here’s how it works: you have a big decision you’ve got to make… I don’t know, let’s go with should you propose to your girlfriend or break up? You decide to propose and now you’re engaged and next year married… congratulations! But you inadvertently did something else there, too. Your choice created an alternate reality where you actually decided to break up. Like I said, you had no idea you did this – it’s a side-effect of our crazy quantum world – and, almost certainly that alternative universe is going to peter out and disappear. They almost always do because they’re necessarily split from this reality so they have no sustaining source of energy – look, this gets overly complicated and no one likes a know-it-all. Suffice it to say you’re getting married and breaking up. There’s a world where it happened, but not for long.
Or is there? I did say “almost always” because there’s the odd reality that for whatever reason hangs on – for chrissakes, you’re making these all the time: boxers or briefs? Poof! Raman or Mac’n’cheese? Poof! McDonalds or Burger King? Poof! And by you I mean every single person alive. So, yeah, there’s a lot of “poofs!” going on. Inevitably one will find a way to stick around and sustain itself. Think of it like some sort of quantum cancer. And even that isn’t usually a big deal – they go their way we go ours, never the twains shall meet… unless they do. Well, they could, sort of. Seriously. And then bad, weird shit happens.
Remember that “I am Larry, destroyer of worlds” bit up at the top? Yeah, that’s where I come in. I’m the guy who goes to those alternate realities and ends them. Kaboom. Someone’s got to do it, and it just happens to be me, Larry. (Destroyer of worlds).
I know, I know, I know — you’ve got a shitload of questions. No doubt good ones like “Larry? What’s your origin story?” or “Where did that manila envelope you’re holding come from? You didn’t have it, like, five seconds go.” You’re so observant – gold star for you! – and these questions and more will be answered in good time, but the appearance of this here envelope means we’ve got a job to do!
Okay, see, this is what I’m talking about: Jason Aldridge of Concord, California… 38, white male, blah blah blah… Ah, so five years ago his best friend Alan’s then-fiance put a serious move on our boy Jason. They were waiting for his buddy to come home from work, there was some wine, some flirting, and, boom she moved in for a kiss – I don’t understand why this gig doesn’t have video replays in these dossiers. I mean, look, here are pictures from the scene of the almost-crime: there’s Jason sitting a little too close to… Samantha is her name. People still name their daughters “Samantha?” Jesus, maybe it’s our reality that should end… Okay, here’s the picture of her going in for the kiss and, ooh, here’s his head turn and he managed an awkward escape. Right. Back to the text here… okay, Jason is the best may at the wedding, yadda, yadda, yadda, and all goes well… Alan and Samantha (right? That’s really her name!) are happily married with a little girl. Lovely. However apparently, something is amiss now, though. Let’s go check this out….
Yes, that’s a vintage Tivo remote control. Look, I don’t criticize the tools you use for your job. If you don’t like, just fuck off. Alright… Whoa, are you okay? I know these jumps take a little time to get used to. Let me help you, we’re in the parking lot of IntraTech in Danville, where Jason is an accountant. Apparently, he’s getting off work right now… There’s the door, right on time. Huh… I liked 35-year old Jason better. It’s the facial hair, right? That goatee – what was he thinking?
Okay, hey, look at this, that’s Alan waiting by Jason’s car. With a baseball bat? Whoa! “You slept with my wife”? Jason could’ve come up with something more original, don’t you – no, no, you’re right, Jason didn’t really sleep with his wife, or, well, fiancé if we’re being technical – this is what I’m talking about! Oh, thanks! Pause! Ooh, caught that in the nick of time – a moment longer and Alan’s Louisville Slugger would’ve turned Jason’s noggin into a watermelon at a Gallagher show. Fine, that’s a lame analogy. Bite me. Let’s see, code 3-7-9-4-5-2-2-9… Enter!
You okay? I’m telling you, you’ll get the hang of these jumps after a few more. Steady. Okay, so we’re back at the scene of the crime, but this is the alternate universe and… whoa, yeah, they’re going at it! We should not be watching this! What? Oh yeah, we can travel through universes as well as time. Well, I can. You’re coming along for the ride – don’t think even think about trying to take over for Larry, destroyer of worlds! Heh, I know you’re not – I’m only messing with you. Ahem, okay. Let’s get out of this before they start taking each other’s clothes off – oh, it’s too late. Pause! Pause! Pause!
This is going to get a little crazy here and there is a chance that it might do permanent psychological damage, so if you start to feel super light headed, you let me know, okay? No, I’m totally NOT kidding. I’m not! This is my serious face. Anyway, we’re going to scan ahead here and watch these cats lives in fast forward… Yeah, this is kind of a split screen here – there’s our man Jason’s life, in the middle there is Alan, and on the right is Samantha. Hmm… this isn’t helpful… So, for this part you may want to turn away. That brain damage thing is serious, by the way. I’m going to keep these three streams up and contrast them at the same time with their lives in our universe – let’s call that Universe Prime because it sounds badass. Six streams on fast forward… I’ll be honest, this shit bakes my brain sometimes—there! You can’t really see unless you know what you’re looking for, but Jason, Alan, and Samantha’s lives are way too similar between this spin-off and Universe Prime. See: Alan and Samantha’s kid (hopefully they don’t call her Samantha 2 or something… Alan’s working at IntraTech here too… way too similar. The two universes are resonating against each other. Looks like there’s been some crossover before, but minor shit, nothing until this bat-wielding Alan.
Alright, this is a pretty straight-forward example because we’ve got two universes that are too similar – the secondary universe should have spun off shortly after their torrid little affair, but it didn’t and the resonance increased until… yeah, you get it. I say this is straight forward because it doesn’t require any sort of finessing at all. I just have to change something pretty major in the secondary universe… Hold on to your lunch, 2-3-6-4-9-8-0… enter!
See, you didn’t even double over that time. Look, isn’t Niagara Falls beautiful? No, that’s a trick question because you should never fucking take your wife on a honeymoon to Niagara Falls. Who does that? Well, obviously our happy couple. Oh, there they are looking out at the mist because we’re at fucking Naigara Falls and there isn’t shit-else to do here. Jesus, I should just let their universes collide and kill them all out of principal! Kidding! Kidding! Okay, hang on here a sec. I’ll be right back.
Dude! Calm the fuck down! Yes, I pushed Alan over the railing and he plummeted to his death. Of course I’d be in deep shit except for two things: one, this button on the remote here? Poof! Now we’re not actually in the universe, just watching – as far as they’re concerned we vanished. So that’ll keep the five-oh off us. Or, wait, is it the Mounties here? I don’t even know which side of the damn border we’re on… What? Oh, yeah, second, we’re not even in Universe Prime, remember? This the secondary universe. And that little homicide there? That’s enough to disrupt the resonance between the two uni—yep, do you see that? It’s getting darker. It’s still noon, by the way. The darkening is this universe already running out of steam. Before shit gets weird – and these universes can get trippy before they completely wink out – let’s jump out of here.
You didn’t even flinch that time! You’re right, we’re back at IntraTech, present day, Universe Prime. Here comes Alan like before and… uh-oh, there’s Jason still. Wait, why does he still have that baseball bat…
No, I’m fucking with you – they’re on a slow pitch softball team because of course they are. See? They’re buds still! And…. SCENE!
Do you like that fade to black there? That’s some dramatic shit, right? So, yeah, that’s a really simple case. The ones that earn me the “Destroyer of Worlds” moniker get a lot more complex with interwoven… what’s that? Why are you here? Well, I’ve got some bad news, buddy…
