All posts by Steve Stern

Watching the Super Bowl from Boise

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NFC Championship - San Francisco 49ers v Seattle Seahawks

 Richard Sherman  blocking a pass to 49ers’ Michael Crabtree. (Photo by others)

When you’re a public figure, there are rules. Here’s one: A public personality can be black, talented, or arrogant, but he can’t be any more than two of these traits at a times. After Richard Sherman’s outburst, after the biggest game of his career – so far – after the biggest play of his career, the word ‘thug’ had cropped up 625 times on TV. From articles in- on? – Deadspin.

I don’t know very much about Professional Football, I used to, when I was a big fan and followed it on a daily basis but, today, I would describe myself as a lapsed fan . I don’t follow it all season and only start during the playoffs but, this year, that is enough to get me interested again.

It has become a much more complicated game, back in the days when I rabid, it was easier because the different leagues – after the AFL-NFL merger, different conferences –  had different styles of play. The AFL favored wide open play and the defenses often countered with a bump and run pass defense over a zone. I usually knew who to key off of.

But now everybody has evolved – and continues to evolve – and evolution favors the generalists. As an aside, the elephant and the panda do what they do extraordinarily well while the coyote does lots of things pretty well. The elephant and the panda are endangered and coyotes have spread to all 50 states. End aside. Today, nobody runs off of tackle as well as Lombardi’s Packers did but everybody can run off tackle pretty well, run a Bill Walsh type, short pass, crossing pattern pretty well, and go deep, occasionally, pretty well and, for somebody not paying attention until a month ago, telling who is doing it best is hard to tell.

Fortunately, these are good times to be unknowledgeable, the play by play and analysis on TV – for every game – make it easy for everyman to follow, even if you are not sure where the nickleback should be playing or who he is keying off. I used to be very dismissive of magazines like People or Us because they talked about people rather than ideas. However, as football styles have become more universal, the people who are embodying those styles become the easiest way into what is going on. So, like everybody else that doesn’t know the details, I am now following the people.

Following the people , takes me down the road of pitting Denver’s offence, led by Peyton Manning, against Seattle’s defence, symbolized by Richard Sherman or, maybe, the cerebral Broncos symbolized by Peyton Manning, against Seattle’s emotional defence led by Richard Sherman. I almost always go with the cerebral guys over the emotional guys which is why I liked the cerebral Bill Bradley over the more populist Al Gore. As an aside, that is why I think that Obama’s being black helped him in the primaries. He picked up almost all of the black vote which would normally go with the populist candidate plus the cerebral voters, like me. The combination put him over the more populist Hillary. End side.

I started rooting for the AFL – then its AFC descendant – team in the Super Bowl because , if it wasn’t the Raiders, it was a team that had beaten the Raiders in the playoffs and, if they won, I could interpret as proof that the Raiders were, at least, number two and probably would have been number one if the refs hadn’t made all those wrong calls; then it became a habit. So both my habit of going with the AFC and my leaning towards the cerebral should lead me to root for Denver, but I can’t.

During the last two weeks, I have become very fond of Richard Sherman and through him, Seattle. First off, Peyton Manning is from Louisiana and played for the University of Tennessee, while Richard Sherman is from Compton and played at Stanford; I always like to go with the locals. Second, under all the emotion, Sherman is an intellectual – he graduated with a 3.9 GPA – and is a student of the game. He says that he has only mediocre NFL physical tools but makes up for it with meticulous attention to detail.  Lastly, during the last twenty years, or so, the NFL has done everything they can to hinder the defence and help the offence, making the offence the underdog and it is always nice to go with the underdog.

Hopefully, this will end up being one of those games that go to the very end. Before any Super Bowl, all the signs point to it being a classic, great, game; the two best offenses in football going at it, or the two best defenses, or – in this case – the best offence against the best defense. Maybe this year will actually be one of those great games, we will know Sunday night. Go Seahawks!

We are in Boise

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Walking by the Boise River-0926

We are at Peter and Ophelia’s in Boise Idaho – for a very long weekend – for Michele’s birthday. When we arrived Wednesday, on the first commercial prop plane I have been on in – maybe – 49 years, it was snowing but not sticking.

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Yesterday, it was clear and warm – not warm for the Bay Area, but warm for here – so we took a walk near the Boise River. As we were getting ready to go for the walk, I thought maybe I should wear my gloves because I was sure it would be cold in the shade. What I hadn’t counted on is that there wouldn’t be much shade because the trees had all dropped their leaves.

One of the complaints that I read about the Americanization – for lack of a better word – of America is the homogenization of  our culture. Driving down the freeway, every offramp has the same fast food places and Starbucks. The Piggly Wiggly,  National Tea, Skaggs Cash Stores, Devan’s, and their ilk, have been replaced with Whole Foods. We watch the same TV at night and everybody, everywhere, pretty much dresses the same, divided by class – or pay scale – more than region.

All that is true, but the differences are still there, just pick up the local paper. In the Idaho Statesman is an ad for the new Ford – one of the pioneering National brands – Idaho Center featuring Ford Idaho Horse Park, Ford Arena, and Ford Amphitheater; the ad features a picture of a guy on horseback shooting a balloon with a very bright muzzle flash. The last time we were here, on a Saturday afternoon, we went to the Idaho State Capitol building – pretty much in the middle of Boise – and just walked in; no guards, no metal detector, just an open door to a seemingly empty building (although the individual office doors were closed and, presumably, locked).

This morning, it is cold and frosty outside and I have already learned a lesson, never leave your shoes out overnight in Boise, in the winter.

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Tunisia

Politics

Tunisia

While the world watches Egypt thrash around with a revolution, a short-lived democracy, and a new military dictatorship;  while the world watches Ukraine reignite; while the world watches Syria convulse,  Tunisia has quietly written a new Constitution. It says, among other things, that All citizens have the same rights and obligations. All are equal before the law.

I think of Tunisia as being the most European Islamic country but that is probably wrong, Turkey is probably more European Country. However, Tunisia is closer to Europe and it was a French colony (or whatever the French called it). In some ways, the new Tunisian Constitution reflects that French heritage, sounding slightly Declaration of the Rights of Man-ish with The Republic of Tunisia shall guarantee fundamental freedoms and human rights in their universality, comprehensiveness, complementarity and interdependence….The Republic of Tunisia shall be founded upon the principles of the rule of law and pluralism and shall strive to promote human dignity and to develop the human personality.

Part of that high-sounding rhetoric is blunted by other parts of the Constitution like:  The President of the Republic is the Head of State. His religion shall be Islam, but it does seem as if the Tunisians are serious about Freedom of Religion and Women’s Rights when they say The Republic of Tunisia shall guarantee the inviolability of the human person and freedom of conscience, or The state and society shall strive to entrench the values of solidarity, mutual assistance and tolerance among individuals, social categories and generations.

I hope so, it would be great to see an Islamic country protecting minorities and women and it would be good for business.

 

 

 

Mitsuwa Market: Food as art

Americana, Around home

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Wrapped treats in Mitsuwa Market 2014 

A couple of days ago, Michele and I went to the Mitsuwa Market for lunch. The Mitsuwa Market is the anchor of what seems to be a new Japanese shopping center. There are several Chinese shopping centers in the area and even more Chinese markets and we shop at them when we are in the area and want seafood, or some Chinese staples like fermented black beans , and there is a small Japanese market we frequent in San Mateo, but this is a much bigger deal.

Japanese market-0791Mitsuwa Market on Saratoga Avenue by 280

I expected it to be similar to the various Chinese markets, but it couldn’t have been more different. Chinese markets are chaos incarnate and, without thinking about it, I thought the Japanese market would be the same. Mitsuwa Market is more like an art gallery crossed with a clean room. One thing that is the same is both are good places to buy rice, especially if you want it in the giant economy size (although you could argue that it is much easier to find in Mitsuwa).

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Mitsuwa Market features Nishiki rice grown in California and this year’s crop just came in. California has been a major rice growing region for a long time, longer than I can remember. My dad used to tell a story about Governor Pat Brown – Jerry Brown’s father – the casual racism of the early 60’s, and California rice.

In 1962, Brown was running for reelection and he flew into an airport somewhere north of Sacramento. As I recall, his plane was a DC-3 and Brown was very proud of being the first state governor to have a plane. I think they used the plane to fly down the block, so the airport could have been pretty close to Sacramento. They flew in – they, because my dad was with Brown – to visit some rich farmers, talk about their needs, and get some campaign donations. When they got out of the plane, they were met by their hosts, a group of men; some were Europeans and some were Sikhs. Brown went over and shook hands with the white guys and climbed into their car and took off, leaving my dad to tour the farms – can a large rice-growing spread be called a farm? -with the Sikhs. As they drove around, my dad began to realize that the Sikhs were the owners – the rich farmers – and the white guys were the formen. He was in the wrong car and so was Brown. My dad loved that story, he loved that the Sikhs were the owners, and it is one of the reasons I love my dad.

Back at the markets, aside from the general aesthetics, the biggest difference is in the fish market area. In Mitsuwa, everything is individually sized and wrapped.

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In Marina Market in Cupertino, it is sort of a mad house with salt water tanks stuffed full of lethargic fish, fish laid out on ice; fish parts abound.

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My mother was somewhat of a Nipponophile, and wandering through Mitsuwa, I understand why. One of her favorite sayings was Cleanliness is next to Godliness, which – now that I think about it – is a little strange since she didn’t believe in God (although she wanted us to become Episcopalians because she thought it was socially advantageous). I think that she liked the ritual of going to church and the perceived status but she was careful to explain that, as hard as she tried, she didn’t believe in God (I remember her saying, more than once, that people who believed in God were happier). But Mom did believe in cleanliness and she did believe in order and Mitsuwa is all about cleanliness and order.

It also has an aesthetic that I think of as distinctly Japanese and that, to a certain extent, I grew up with. For some period of my growing up, it may have been as long as four years, when I was six to ten years old – it also could only been six months – I was very sickly with asthma and my mother took me to the doctor every week. The doctor – actually there were several of them – were in San Francisco and, after the appointment, we went out to lunch. My favorite lunch place was the Yamato Sukiyaki House.

At the same time, my mother was making a conscience effort to improve her sophistication, for lack of a better word (maybe exposure works better, or, since she never graduated from highschool, perhaps continued education would be even better). Often, after lunch, we would go to the de Young Museum. At that time, the de Young had a large Asian collection, that I think she liked better than the classical European works. After the museum, we would end the day at the Oriental Tea Garden where my mother would have tea and I would get a cookie. As an aside. The Oriental Tea Garden was originally the Japanese Tea Garden, but it was renamed, without being changed, during World War II (sort of like Freedom Fries). The name has now been changed back to the Japanese Tea Garden and, the last time I visited – maybe twenty five years ago – it seemed very touristy and dirty. However, I read that it has been remodeled and restored, I hope so, because I have very fond memories. End aside.

I think my mother would have enjoyed Mitsuwa Market, sure, it is a market and it is full of stuff they are trying to sell us, but it also has a Zen-like tranquility and minimalism (often with a nod to nature).

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Outside, they even have a peaceful Zen garden – bizarrely done in concrete, but still… – and a not so peaceful Kawasaki superbike.

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Identifying with the Cliff Swallows

Americana, Psychological Musings

Kachina Bridge, Natural Bridges National MonumentKachina Bridge, Natural Bridges National Monument

A week ago, or so, I saw a post on Ta-Nehisi’s blog that I keep thinking about. He is reading Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin by Timothy Snyder and the book prompted him to make a series of posts, one of them – I think – is about accepting Evil. The post, Grappling With History’s Greatest Gangsters , is well worth reading (uh…if you are into thinking about good and evil):

How can men commit such acts? The question is not answered by empty invocations of “evil” or vague invocations of “sociopathy.” The question is not answered by memorializing victims (though this has its place) or the construction of national oaths (though that too might have its place.) On the contrary the question might best be answered, not by identifying with history greatest victims, but by identifying with its killers. This is in fact, as Snyder argues, the moral position: It is easy to sanctify policies or identities by the deaths of the victims. It is less appealing, but morally more urgent, to understand the actions of the perpetrators. The moral danger, after all, is never that one might become a victim but that one might be a perpetrator or a bystander.

I remember walking with Michele late in the afternoon, we were somewhere in the Colorado Plateau – probably in Escalante, but I am not sure – and we were walking up canyon, wandering is more accurate, soaking in the afternoon. Just below the rim of the canyon – about where you might put a picture rail if this was a hall rather than a 200 feet deep canyon – there was a line of mini caves, sort of like the mini-caves in the picture above.1 We watched a Raven flying along the edge of the rim and every once in a while the Raven would circle back to a mini-cave to check it out. It was warm with a slight breeze and the Raven was effortlessly, silently, gliding up canyon.

Ravens don’t get the credit they should, they lack the style of hawks, but they are graceful flyers when they want. This guy was beautiful and then we realized it he was checking out the Cliff Swallow nests in the mini-caves and eating their eggs when he found them. Both Michele and I instantly started feeling sorry for the Cliff Swallows. The eggs were their babies, their future and the Raven was just cruising along, like walking a buffet, eating their eggs.

Walking up canyon, we started talking about how easy it is to identify with the victims rather than the Raven. I think our country, and I suspect alot more countries, are like that. We remember the Alamo – well, the Texans do anyway – we celebrate Pearl Harbor not our victory at Midway. I know I feel that way when I read about pre-civil war slavery or the holocaust. Reading about what the Germans did, I retreat into How could those people do something so inhuman? it is incomprehensible, they are monsters.

It is hard to get past that – often very hard – but they are not monsters, they are people like us. I don’t say that lightly.

Our national narrative is that we are the good guys and we would never do anything like kill people wholesale, especially innocent people. But, we would and we have. During World war II, on 9–10 March 1945, we killed an estimated 88,000 to 100,000 civilians – and wounded another 40,000-125,000, depending on who is counting. We did this on purpose during a raid by 334 B-29s on Tokyo.The purpose of  this raid was not to bomb airfields or munitions factories, it was to kill people. Because we were not doing enough damage to the Japanese homeland with conventional bombing, we had changed tactics to create more damage. First, we bombed Tokyo with high explosive bombs and then came back with incendiary bombs to create a firestorm. According to Robert McNamara, in The Fog of War, after the raid, General Curtis LaMay said It’s a good thing we are winning this war or we would be tried as war criminals.

In his book, War Time: Understanding and Behavior in the Second World War, Paul Fussell writes about an American platoon killing a group of unarmed Germans who were trying to surrender.  But that wasn’t the part that shocked him later, what shocked him how much everybody enjoyed it and how it became a platoon joke to be used when they need cheering up.

Yes, these are wartime stories and war brutalizes everybody and it is easy to tell ourselves that our acts of inhumanity are different from, say, Amon Goeth the commandant of the Kraków-Płaszów concentration camp. That is the point, it is easy to make Goeth the other, incomprehensible, like Goeth made the Jewish people he killed the other. It is not a direction that makes us more human. I want to end with a poem – I remember it from a LP record of poetry my mother often played – that we have probably all heard and forgotten, it is by John Dunn: No man is an island, Entire of itself, Every man is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thy friend’s Or of thine own were: Any man’s death diminishes me, Because I am involved in mankind, And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.