How Noble is the Nobel?

Alfred Nobel stipulated that the peace prize should go "to the person who shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between the nations and the abolition or reduction of standing armies and the formation and spreading of peace congresses."

There were 205 submissions this year - more than ever. Filled with people who have actually accomplished things that have had an impact on our world. Yet the prize went to Barack Obama because "Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future," the committee said. "His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world's population."

Huh?

Throughout history great oratory has inspired but it is hard work and effort that actually produces change. Until he (Obama) demonstrates some change I can believe in with real results I think this award is presumptive (even with it's politcial "weight") and should be declined by him.

I think Obama is headed for some major problems if he doesn't start getting shit done. Poll after poll is showing that Independents are starting to sour on him and the Dems. I overheard a guy who HATES Bush and voted for Obama actually say, "Well hell, Bush was a douchebag but at least he got shit done. I may have hated the shit he did but he got something done." That is a HUGE problem. If Obama wants to be seen as anything more than a gifted orator cum ineffectual narcissist he better put on his big boy pants and step up his game.

And yeah yeah I know it's his first year and he was left with a big bag of stinking dogshit. Wah! Nobody said it was gonna be easy and he said he could do it. So do it already!

Chill.

Ah, PRIDE....the opportunity once a year to get out and be proud. And loud. And GAY!

But OH the flurry of activity to get ready for pride! Gym,work,shop,gym,cocktails,shop,gym,tan,shop,gym. And that's just Monday.

In the midst of all this activity it can become easy to get LESS connected and LESS present with one another. There is however, in the Castro, a refuge of sorts. A place where we gays can get our chill on. And, of course, this wouldn't be a post worthy of Dancing on the Dole if this event were not FREE!

Every Monday night a small group of LGBT folks gets together at the Center on Market Street for an hour of Buddhist meditation and a dharma talk. The upshot is that you sit, still the mind for a half an hour and then have a discussion led by a lay-person on one of the teachings of Buddhism. It could be on loving-kindness, easing of suffering, compassion, impermanence of thought...you name it.

Here's the thing about this group. It is one of the rare instances in the frenzied world of urban gay life that you can sit with fellow LGBT folks in a non-politicized, non-sexualized environment and commune for the purposes of finding stillness.

Quiet your thoughts? Bring stillness?

"Oh, Mary!", you declaim, martini in hand. "Why would I wanna do that?"

Well meditation has many benefits:

Physiological benefits:

1- It lowers oxygen consumption.

2- It decreases respiratory rate.

3- It increases blood flow and slows the heart rate.

4- Increases exercise tolerance.

5- Leads to a deeper level of physical relaxation.

6- Enhances the immune system.

7- Reduces activity of viruses and emotional distress

and my personal favorite

8- Decreases the aging process

Psychological benefits:

1- Builds self-confidence.

3- Helps with focus & concentration

4- Increase creativity

5- Increased emotional stability.

6- improved relationships

and IMPORTANTLY...

7- Reduces road rage

Spiritual benefits:

1- Provides peace of mind, happiness

2- Increased compassion

3- Brings body, mind, spirit in harmony

4- Increased acceptance of oneself

5- Helps living in the present moment

6- Creates a widening, deepening capacity for love 9

and if that weren't ENOUGH..

7- Discovery of the power and consciousness beyond the ego

Need I say more?

More importantly, though is the opportunity for LGBT folks to be able to come together in an environment of shared compassion, insight and non-aggression. The overwhelming majority of our existence (clubs, gyms, bars, even seemingly innocuous dinner parties) can be pretty sexually charged and socially aggressive environments. Even if that's your thing, it can get pretty exhausting after awhile. We simply do not (and some of this is of our own design) have as many non-sexualized outlets as our straight brothers and sisters do.

The Buddha says, "Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without."

As we wind down from Pride and all the other hectic maneuvers of our overly busy lives let's not forget that to be still, to sit with the quiet and the discontent can be one of the most liberating and revolutionary acts we can do. And to do this in the presence of fellow travelers of our own tribe can be remarkable.

San Francisco LGBTQ Sangha

Monday Nights 5:30-6:30pm

Location: The SF LGBT Center, 1800 Market Street, 3rd Floor, Room 300

http://www.maxkelly.info/sangha.html

Two Buds and a Dud.

One of the great things about being a theatre person (the life of which, while rich, is not known for its financial comforts) is that you can almost always see theatre for free. Especially if you have friends in high places. My friend, Matt, is such a feller.

Matt, while young and not fully launched into his career yet, holds extreme power. He is the Box Office Manager at a respected regional theatre. Why is this a powerful position? Well besides being able to hook you up for the latest work at his joint, he can also usually get free tickets at most of the other theatres in town. Such was the situation on Saturday. In fact, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing not one, but TWO shows for free yesterday. An embarrassment of riches. Too bad one of the shows was rich while the other one was, quite frankly, just an embarrassment. More on that later.

My free weekend actually started with Matt the night before. We met up at one of my favorite little local eateries, the Velvet Cantina, where the drinks are stiff, the bartenders pretty and a good and cheap time is usually to be had by all. Matt and I worked our way through 2 margaritas hoping to be moderate in all things. Alas, as 9pm rolled around Matt looked at me and said, "Wanna go to a party?"

Another great thing about theatre people is their ability to throw really fabulous parties. Against my better judgment (as a reformed good time charlie) I trundled off to Brava Theatre with Matt. Matt is the roommate of the artistic director there, a beautiful and vivacious local arts mover and shaker. A party was being thrown for one of their favorite supporters.

Here's the thing about a theatre party - especially as thrown by a leader of an edgy alternative company like Brava - yes, there will be booze, there will be food, there will be music, there will be people boozing and fooding and musicking. However, what you can count on is that it will all be done with the kind of low down, funky style that makes you feel instantly at ease and ready to go all night without a care in the world. As we walked into the party venue, Brava's amazing main space cum old vaudeville stage, the air was filled with laughter and live accordion music. That's right - LIVE ACCORDION MUSIC. I don't know about you but there is nothing that screams "this is going to be a fantastic freaking night" than a super cute hipster chick playing a live accordion.

The rest of the evening, as I remember, was just as fun and funky as that first moment. Impromptu songs by jazz stylists, corner conversations about bike repair and education reform, hugging and kissing galore and a slow wind down to 3:30am with a final stop at El Faralito for the post-party gut buster before falling into bed, soothed, stuffed and ready for dreamland.

As 10:45am rolled painfully around on Saturday (so much for moderation) I got a delightful good morning text from Matt - "So, we gonna do this?". "Well, yes, we are," I thought. Chin up, cup o' joe, quick shower and I was off to Bezerkeley.

Our first stop was Berkeley Rep for a production of You, Nero. In the title of this post I talk about two buds and a dud. Well unfortunately, this is the latter. The attempt, here, was to create a campy little ditty about the life of that infamous boy-emperor Nero. Unfortunately, the jokes are tedious and obvious, the direction clunky and obvious and the performances surprisingly tepid given that this is supposed to be a bawdy sex farce. I will say, however, that Danny Sheie, who plays Nero, does his damned best to infuse this play with life and camp. Camp clearly is his thing and he sure has fun - but it isn't enough to sustain the whole production. If there had been a doctor in the house who heard how many times we groaned at the jokes in this thing ("Nero says he is the new Emperor-sario of the land!" - Groan. Really?) he woulda thought we were about to pass a kidney stone. When I got home and went online to look at the reviews I saw that the Chronicle gave it Wild Applause. Well, there you go.

Before I move on, I do want to point out one particularly offensive moment in this dog. Poppea, Nero's mistress and ultimate frenemy, at one point is enraged that Nero has decided to replace her with a castrated singer who looks uncannily like her. Stalking the stage she screams. " I am gonna kill that fucking faggot!" The audience howls with laughter.

Really?

Wow, here I am in arguably one of the most liberal enclaves in the northern hemisphere and people think it's just a scream to hear someone called a faggot. Astonishing. Simply astonishing. I tried to imagine said eunuch being a black man and having Poppea scream out, "I am gonna kill that fucking nig*%r!". Wouldn't happen. Not a chance. In some ways I don't blame the lemmings in the audience. We still live in an age where the homosexual is the source of derision, the butt of the joke (Proposition 8 anyone?). But director Sharon Ott and writer Amy Freed should know better. Shame on you both.

Thankfully, my evening ended on a much better note. I had the great delight of seeing the West Coast Premiere of Bob Glaudini's Jack Goes Boating at the Aurora Theatre - right next door to Berkely Rep. Two pot smoking limo drivers (thus "two buds") search for love and meaning in the most seemingly mundane of lives. Truth be told, this is probably more of a movie than a play (and it will be in your cineplexes soon directed by Philip Seymour Hoffman) but Aurora's production delights - terrific performances (especially by the fantastic Danny Wolohan as the eponymous rasta Jack), precise yet fluid direction by Joy Carlin, accessible yet penetrating writing and gorgeously realized sets and lights make this a thoroughly enjoyable evening of theatre.

So ended my 24 hours of fun, mostly free, immersed in the theatre. I laughed, I cried and there were definitely two things better than Cats. Sorry, Nero. Maybe next time.

Aurora Theatre Company

(click here for discount info)

2081 Addison Street

Berkeley, CA 94704

510-843-4822

Berkeley Repertory Theatre

(click here for discounts)

2025 Addison Street

Berkeley, CA 94704

510-647-2949

The Academy. And Such.

So today starts the first of my posts on FREE THINGS TO DO IN SF.... glory be!

If a gal's gonna be unemployed she can't spend all her time thinking about her predicament and what's next on the whirligig o' life. She's gotta get out and bust a move - seek inspiration - LIVE!

For those of you who have not been to the much hyped California Academy of Sciences, I say "what is you waiting for?!"

I do start with a warning though - for those of you who would rather do many an unspeakable thing before being crowded into a public space with lots of tourists and small children I say this place is not for you. However, for those of you who can, with Zen-like mindfulness, wade through the mass of screaming youngsters and exhausted mommies and shuffling Sheboyganites without a care, the Academy of Sciences is truly a wonder to behold.

One part aquarium, one part terrarium, one part planetarium and all parts a big phat sustainability project, the Academy delights. Where else in the world can you see an albino alligator accompanied by the eloquent reaction, "DUDE! THAT IS HELLA WEIRD!!".

Hella weird indeed. The collection of species in the Academy is impressive. Overwhelming even. In a country where fewer than 25% of us hold passports, here is a place where we can, without the airfare and currency exchange, experience some sense of the vastness of the world outside our safely constructed cities and suburbs. The sheer number, beauty and variety of the collection here is remarkable.

As I was marveling at this beautiful public works project, I began to think about education. Here was a place trying mightily to educate people (mostly children it seems) on the huge scope of the world around them. I also began to think about how education, by and large, is failing us on so many levels. I have recently become intensely focused on and interested in education reform. The problems with education today are significant - rather than enumerate them here I've included a clip of a great Ted talk by the president of my alma mater, Bennington College, at the bottom of the page detailing the current state of liberal arts education today.

So, as I strolled through the exhibits today, I started to reflect on my own education and how I ended up at Bennington and I realized that part of the journey included, interestingly enough, the absolute indoctrination of me by my parents as a savvy consumer. So when I went to look at colleges I really approached the task as a fairly sophisticated "buyer". The advantage, of course, was that I devised a process for myself that ensured that I would find as close to the right fit for my educational (and I use that term broadly) goals as I could.

As I was sliding past the Stonefish and the I- Don't-Remember-Its-Name Scary Pretty Eel,

I extrapolated that idea out to one of the possible root causes (and potential solutions) around how we have ended up in such a state of affairs in higher education. While we live largely in a market-based educational system we certainly don't encourage a lot of sophistication on the part of the buyer (namely young people graduating from high school) as they jump into the market. Therefore the education market can be shaped, unevenly it seems, by the demands of business for a particular set of skills, the pressure of not-terribly-self-aware parents or by the sometimes fickle interests of academia. There seems to be very little "upward" pressure from the actual consumer to demand a particular type of education that truly produces the kind of critically-minded engaged citizens required of a functioning democracy.

So, it seems that part of creating long lasting education reform at the undergraduate level is to start creating at a young age the ability for students to be discerning about what they expect from their "suppliers". (For those of you skeptical about young people's ability to articulate qualitative distinction just ask a couple of twelve year olds to debate the differences between an XBox and a PS3 and be ready for a crtitical analysis worthy of dissertation). Yes, the market- based system is unlikely to go away very soon and actually it is that same system that could be one of education reforms most powerful allies. The awakening of the young en masse to the fact that education is more than discreet skill building - that it is, in fact, a gateway to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness at its most fundamental and most rich level is an awakening that can bring about more change than any top-down strategy could ever hope to achieve.

What does this have to do with my visit to the museum today? Not much probably. But I'm happy to find inspiration wherever I can get it. If while in the company of a "hella weird" white alligator, even the better.

The California Academy of Sciences

(third Wednesday of each month free)

55 Music Concourse Drive

Golden Gate Park

San Francisco, CA 94118

415-379-8000

info@calacademy.org

Searching for Ground.

Sitting in a big question can be excruciating. There is a profound dis-ease with not having a plan, a way forward, a place to hang your hat.

If you are doing the double-duty of not only being unemployed but also trying to answer the question - what in the heck do I REALLY want to do with my life - the "groundlessness" can seem almost unbearable.

To embark on a discovery of what is important to you, what that "means" and how you then manifest that in your day-to-day life is much like being an explorer - drawn to discover what's out there but not quite sure you have the courage to face what you find.

Our obsession with "finding ground", with stability, with knowing the "known unknowns" is cause for a tremendous amount of suffering. In my own life the need to try and control the essentially uncontrollable has led me to numb out, lash out and make desperate choices.

However, one of the sweetest advantages of my little paycation is to face this groundlessness head-on and see if it actually has any teeth. If you remove all the devices meant to keep you from staring into the present moment (the usual suspects - work, booze, sex, tv, a mindlessly full social calendar), you realize that the present moment is actually a pretty vulnerable place completely unnerving and completely tender at the same time.

To slow down, to bring to bear every ounce of attention and mindfulness you can to the moment you are in is probably one of the most shockingly simple yet devastatingly difficult things I have ever tried to do. In it, though, is the realization that it is all you have. Now and forever. And everything else can start to fade away.

A New Day.

When you have a lot of time on your hands there are so many possibilities.

Therein lies the rub.

Stick with what you know? Seek out the strange and interesting? Pursue the improbable? Drink?

As part of my Paycation I have decided to put one proverbial foot in front of the other and keep on walking out the door. Sometimes you can forget that you live in one of the coolest, most beautiful cities in the world. I have lived here nigh on 10 years and I bet I have experienced about one one hundredth of what there is to offer.

SO, instead of running off to distant lands for danger and excitement I think I'll stay right here for a while and see if I can get myself into hot water on mah own home turf. FOR FREE!

La Liberte!

Freedom!

Or so it seems.

Can one feel free if said freedom has been unwittingly forced upon one?

I have recently joined the ranks of the unemployed. On the dole after what amounts to almost 15 years of steady gainful employment. I was given this gift, unceremoniously, by my last employer (of 10 years) in probably the coldest way possible:

On the phone.

Voices devoid of empathy or care.

"We have our reasons and have made the right decision."

Truth be told I was unhappy anyway. I loved the work I did with individuals but had been struggling with the fact that even though I loved the idea of helping people be better, more thoughtful, more humane leaders; more compassionate, more skillful coaches; more strategic, more inclusive managers of change - still I knew that the reason I was being hired in the end was to make the gigantic corporations these folks worked for more profitable. Corporations whose business practices I didn't always respect. And I had long ago lost respect for the leadership of the consulting firm I was employed by. When the gap between the values the leaders of a company espouse and the values that show up in their actions is consistently wide enough to drive a small truck through, it's time for you to move on.

And of course there is that nagging question - is this the best that I can do with the gifts I have been given?

So. What is a boy to do? Dumped out on the streets with a decent amount of unemployment, low expenses and his life stretching out in front of him?

Does he mope about a bit? Sure.

Does he feel sorry for his widdle put-upon self. Hell yeah!

Does he say FUCK YOU to that crappy little universal buzz killer, KHARMA. You betcha!

But then, slowly and with a dawning that can only be described as miraculous, he puts on his big-boy pants and realizes that he has an opportunity now to look ahead, ask himself the hard questions and figure out what in the hell he wants to do with the rest of his life. Better yet, he gets to do that with the blessings (and funding) of his dear Uncle Sam.

Funemployment. A paycation. Dancing, as it were, on the dole.

La liberte.