We were invited to the Central Baptist Church by Betty, our landlord of two months, while we looked for our house. The service was an hour long. We sang a few hymns and had the lyrics conveniently projected onto the screen behind the pulpit, listened to a short sermon, then watched a short film that explored the historical context of Christ’s birth. Towards the end there was a rousing rendition of Go Light Your World by a member of the choir and our kids couldn’t help but get into it (pictures above). All in all, although we aren’t regular church goers, it was very nice to be part of the ceremony and share the occasion.
We later went to join the congregation over at Betty’s house, the beautifully restored Garrett Mansion, for the traditional post-service chili dinner. The picture to the to the left is from the traditional singing of the Days of Christmas where each family is handed a glass with a day and they then sing their verse. That’s Betty conducting the singing. Thank you Betty for inviting us into your life and sharing your Christmas tradition with us – we had a great time!
Jon Udell hits the mark again. I should be packing up for our big move up to the city (starting from January 3rd we’ll be at 548 4th Street in San Francisco) but got distracted reading an old InfoWorld column where Jon talks about the definition of blogs. A blog is more than the simplistic definition provided by Merriam-Webster. It’s true power comes from the network to which it’s connected.
By way of analogy, consider a dictionary definition of a telephone: “an instrument that converts voice and other sound signals into a form that can be transmitted to remote locations and that receives and reconverts waves into sound signals.” That’s fine if you already know what a telephone network is, but the definition doesn’t work on its own. Just as telephones are meaningful only when connected to the telephone network, so blogs are meaningful only when connected to the blog network.
Blogs haven’t toppled old media. The foundations of Old Media were rotten already. The new media came along at the right time. Put it this way: you’ve see films of old buildings detonated by precision demolitionists. First you see the puffs of smoke – then the building just hangs there for a second, even though every column that held it up has been severed. We’ve been living in that second for years, waiting for the next frame. Well, here it is. Roll tape. Down she goes. And when the dust settles we will be right back where we were 100 years ago, with dozens of fiercely competitive media outlets throwing elbows to earn your pennies.
Last night Izumi and I went to Sushi Hamako on Carl Street in San Francisco. Run by a husband & wife team out of the ground floor of an old Victorian a few blocks from Haight-Ashbury, they’ve been putting out great sushi for the past 20 years.
Sushi Hamako
Open from 6:30pm until, “the rice runs out” chef Tetsuya takes great care in selecting his ingredients and makes a trips to Tokyo hand carry things that he cannot source here such as thinly sliced kombu seaweed for his soup stocks. They have built up the business purely on word of mouth – there’s no sign out front and the decor is plain. They now are visited regularly by those in the know. Iichiro drops by when the Mariners play the Giants and Yo-Yo Ma grabs a post-concert meal once a year when he’s in town for a performance.
I was reading some of the online reviews and see that some folks have complained about their unforgiving attitude. I can see where they would get this feeling. There’s an extreme respect for the food here. Izumi’s friend who introduced us to this place told us of one person who complained because something that was listed on the menu was not available. The chef said that he only serves a fish if it’s fresh, regardless of what’s listed on the menu. An argument ensued after which Tetsuya chased the fellow out the door with Tetsuya’s wife (who takes orders and serves) sprinkling salt across the threshold to purify the place of the bad mojo to the amazement of the other patrons.
I imagine that each day the menu is slightly different, although the Monkfish steamed in sake is a regular favorite. If you show an appreciation for what you are eating (as we did), the chef will begin to pull things out that are not normally offered. Anchovy Paste compote with shaved Uzu grown in San Leandro, handmade shiokara, Belgium chocolate truffles. . .
Sushi Hamako is much like the neighborhood sushi shop back in Japan. Functional decor and a focus on good fish. The only thing missing is are the Yomiuri Giants playing on a TV in the corner.
Sushi Hamako 108 Carl St Ste B San Francisco, CA 94117-3925 Phone: (415) 753-6808
Thank you Mie for looking after the two kids and letting us get out for a long-needed break!
We sent a care package to a friend’s cousin who is on the front lines in Iraq. Ramen noodles, socks, chapstick, note paper and some letters from the kids. We don’t necessarily support the political reasons for the war over there but we do want to show our support in some way and connect with the good people that are over there during the holidays.
We finally made it to the Thai Brunch place in Berkeley that my sister has been wanting to take us since we arrived. Both Dav and my sister have blogged it and now it’s our turn. Nice to start off the day with a spice kick but be sure to arrive when they open at 10am. By 11:30 the place is teeming.
This is old news but Terrie Lloyd, who’s always good a picking up tidbits for his excellent email newsletter “Terrie’s Take” highlights the striking resemblence of the new FCC mascot, “Broadband” to Doraemon, the cartoon every Japanese kid knows by sight. Turns out the publisher of Doaemon, Shougakkan, is going to take legal action but it’ll be interesting to see how a suit lodged by a private Japanese company works out against a US government organization.
It will be interesting to see if a Japanese copyright claim against a US government department will be received with as as much vigor as trade disputes in the opposite direction. Expect to see more about this on slow news days on NHK and other Japanese media…
I just love the Crime column in the English language Yomiuri. It’s either about some extremely gruesome incident which makes you question how people can be raised to be capable of such things or it’s some totally mundane non-event that makes you feel sorry for the totally bored reporter that had to write the silly thing up.
A bus driver has been fined for stopping on the Hamada Expressway in Chiyodacho, Hiroshima Prefecture, to let a 76-year old woman get off the bus, it was learned Saturday.
