Sharp words -- and some fantastic kimchi fried rice at Spoon
CHEAP EATS This bums me out: hearing straight-phobic comments from queers. It's a San Francisco thing. I'll leave it to better minds than mine to figure out why. But in New Orleans, among our queer community, I never heard anything like it. And in New York City, among Hedgehog's ... nope.
But here, home, in San Francisco, it happens repeatedly. And as much as it used to bother me, as a closeted queer, to hear straight friends (assuming my sameness), make trans- and homophobic statements and jokes, it hurts now to hear the reverse.
Plus which, it's stupid. So stop it. Just: stop.
Seriously, if we've become so proud of being queer that we devalue and disrespect "other," then it's time to reread Dr. Seuss.
The one with the Star-Bellied Sneetches, I'm thinking. But really they're all very good, even "Hop on Pop." Theodore Dreiser may have been a straight white male, but — like a lot of straight white men, including my dad, and possibly yours — he fucking rocked.
See, so it's never as simple as Us vs. Them. You, dear heterophobe, have allies — important, awesome, straight allies, like ...
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Last week was very football-oriented in our little neck of the Mission, what with the NFL and the San Francisco Women's Flag Football League both kicking off their seasons and all.
Sunday morning, Kayday and I sat on the sidelines and watched Chicken Farmer and the rest of the team play their season-opener, but between the lack of instant replay and the lack of microphones on the refs, we rarely understood what the hell was going on. According to Chicken Farmer, her team lost. We'll take her word for that.
And I'd tell you all about the 49ers game Sunday afternoon but that would be pointless since, obviously, you all witnessed it with your very own ocular orbs, right?
So what does that leave me with by way of football-orientated conversation? Gay marriage, of course. The nutshell, for those of you who are communists or live in a sports-free cave, is that Baltimore Ravens linebacker Brendon Ayanbadejo supports same-sex marriage. Openly. A certain Maryland State Delegate name of Burns took exception to Ayanbadejo voicing opinions about politics and wrote a letter to the Raven's owner requesting that he put a muzzle on Ayanbadejo.
Enter Minnesota Vikings punter Chris Kluwe, who is some kind of Good Will Hunting-type genius (except with words instead of numbers). He has a gay brother-in-law, and apparently is really stoked to see an honest man made of him some day because he wrote a doozy of a letter to this Burns fellow. Look it up. It's the kind of letter that makes State Delegates blush and concede that maybe linebackers have First Amendment rights, too.
So there you have it, sports fans: 24 hours into the NFL regular season and I have not one but two new favorite football players.
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....Chris Kluwe and Brendon Ayanbadejo.
But speaking of Dr. Seuss, Hedgehog and me get to don Cat-in-the-Hat hats and solicit donations for the Children's Book Project at Candlestick before the home-opener Sunday. Meaning: Not only do we get to see the game, we get to annoy tailgaters beforehand.
Now, if only I can get Hedgehog a press pass (plus one), for the rest of the — Wait a minute. Isn't there a connection now between the Guardian and the Examiner?
My new favorite restaurant is Spoon, that awesome Korean joint at the corner of Ashby and something-or-other in Berkeley, where we ate, coincidentally, with Spoonbender, my new favorite unprofessional football player.
I had this fantastic kimchi fried rice, with beef (or bacon), and topped with a sunny-side-up egg. Spoonbender had Jhap Chae, which she loved, and Hedgehog had (and loved) Kimbop and chicken wings.
Then we went to the park and played catch.
933 Ashby, Berk.