My sister is getting married and we are on our way to see it with our own eyes.
All posts by Steve Stern
This whole McChrystal thing fascinates me
It seems to me, as somebody who has fired people and seen alot more people fired, that some people just want to be fired. Why else would General Stanley A. McChrystal put himself in this position. We are loosing the war under McChrystal and he seems to know it but it would be very hard to quit.
Why we are loosing the war is not important – not enough troops, wrong strategy, ineffective allies, not enough US civilian agency support, corrupt Afghani government, whatever – what is important is that McChrystal bought in to being able to win the war with what he had and, it seems, he can't. For all the knock on generals being stupid, being a general, in wartime, is a very competitive job and McChrystal is not making it.
Happy Summer Solstice
Passing through San Francisco….slowly
We went to a dear friend's birthday party on Saturday and, on Sunday, we came back home through San Francisco. It was a gorgeous spring day and I had a gig, from Michele, to shoot two very inexpensive hotels in North Beach. So we decided to grab a bite in a Chinese restaurant and make an afternoon of it.
North Beach, probably all of San Francisco, was packed with natives and tourists enjoying the day. Including us. After we finally found a place to park, I remembered a near-by restaurant that was a pretty good, unknown, hole in the wall. But, by the time we got there, I also remembered that I hadn't been there for 20 to 25 year. Approximately 65 years in restaurant years.
It was still there, on the corner, identified by a large Coke Cola sign, and the food was still pretty good. Afterwards, we spent the next couple of hours wandering around San Francisco, shooting hotels. We shot the first hotel in North Beach and then went to shot the second hotel which overlooked Washington Square which, somehow, we both thought was Portsmouth Square.So, we wandered off to Portsmouth Square,
in Chinatown, where the locals were playing cards and Weiqi – I think – and listening to music in from the A Better Chinatown Tomorrow – a rift on John Woo's A Better Tomorrow, again, I think – concert. Probably a great place to hang out, but, the second we got there, we both knew we were at the wrong square. Michele summed it up best, I'll bet Washington Square is the square where The Washington Square Bar and Grill is. Duh!
So we wandered back to North Beach through Chinatown – where we saw alot of American cars, just like the real China, a nice touch – enjoying the day and the North Beach Fair – where the Brazilian contingent was very happy to be eating at the Saigon Barbecue or something.
Finally, pictures in hand, we went back to the car. But, not before we saw a pride of parked motorcycles – mostly Harleys. There was a nicely detailed Victory and the best looking Harley I have ever seen. I don't want to give the impression that I am a Harley Davidson fan because I am not. But this bike was terrific.
All in all, a fine last day of spring and a reminder of why we love San Francisco.
Happy Father’s Day 2010
Last Thursday, I went to see my daddy’s grave. He died 42 years ago and I have only been to his grave a
couple of times – if that is the right word for a filedrawer in a marble wall – but I was in the neighborhood taking pictures for Michele, had some time, and Father’s Day was coming up.
He is at the Gardens of Eternity, a Jewish cemetery, in the necropolis of Colma. The first time I went to see him, I couldn’t find him. When I got to where I thought he was and looked up at all the 2’ by 2’ niche covers with
people’s names on them, I saw my grandparent’s niches, I saw my aunt Minette’s niche; but not my daddy’s. I
must have walked around the area 3 or 4 times, looking at every name on every
niche.
I finally found him around the corner from the family. At the time, I wrote, There, around the corner from the rest of the family, was
Daddy. Alone, in this small little
space. It was so sad. Just standing there, looking at my daddy’s
little niche with
Alfred Joseph
1906-1968
Stern
It felt like he was not there; that he was very,
very, gone. I touched his neatly bifurcated name with my
fingers and I felt so alone. The letters
were cold and unequivocal.
Last Thursday, I had the same feeling. I was more prepared for it, but I still had the same feelings of loss. I never
really knew my father. I wish I had. He was what we used to call a proud man meaning he was not a person who talked about his inner life. So his fears, hopes, disappointments, and dreams were all unknown to me – and, I think, everybody else.
Now, I am more than eight years older than my daddy was when he died.