Saint Valentine's Day Noir

From February 16, 2009

Valentine's Day was quite fantastic.

I took a trip to San Francisco for the book release party for San Fransico Noir 2: The Classics, a collection of noir short stories, one of which is penned by Mr. Craig Clevneger. Craig intended to spend the afternoon writing but we ended up talking for hours and then watching a really obscure and fantastic British TV show from the early 90s. Awesome. We went looking for food and ended up at this tiny cafe that serves crepes. I've never had a crepe with anything but Nutella, and only from a street vendor in Paris. I had no idea there was such a variety. I had one with smoked turkey, cheese and cranberries. Wow. So damn good.

We gussied up and walked down the couple of blocks to the Ha-Ra Club and it was packed. Tiny, but packed, with a jazz saxaphonist playing. The bartender was very W.C. Fields and a complete character. Craig had some friends there already and 3 of us ordered drinks and when the bartender brought them over he said, "I hope you all get the clap." Oh my God, we were rolling on the floor. He told another guy at the other end of the bar, "I'll get to you in a day or two." Priceless.

The evening started out a bit slow and there were times I felt like I was at a class lecture and the room was just silent. Craig seemed a bit nervous as he didn't warm up and prepare the way he usually does and he was worried that the audience was already comatose. I told him not to worry, his work was great and he has a great voice and is entertaining and egaging and he will be fabulous. The host started to introduce him and as he made his way to the mic one of the other authors, a tall bald former PI who has tea cup poodles and is a total riot, came right over and said to me, "You have excellent taste in men." Damn straight.

His reading was fantastic. The audience laughed and he made jokes and they were riveted. The story, The Numbers Game, is fucked up but in such a great way and very noir. Which is a good thing as it's a noir collection. His name is on the front cover next to Jack London and Mark Twain. Not bad company. Or Bad Company. At one point I yelled for some Free Bird. He recieved thunderous applause and yells and when the readings were over he made his rounds signing copies and shaking hands and meeting fans new and old. A little troupe of us walked back up the street to Route 101 and had cocktails and laughed and had delicious conversation. I felt like I knew these people for years the way we all just hit it off, and I recieved many demands to move to the city. Our glasses clinked on through the night.

(This reel missing)

In the morning we sat and talked and played with the kitties Ralph and George until one, and we meandered down the street to have lunch at Tommy's. So much food, so good, so cozy. Then Craig took me to City Lights Bookstore. OhmyGodOhmyGodohmyGod. Be still my Beating heart. Three floors. The kid behind the counter had been the kid behind the table selling the anthology the night before. We wandered the store and he picked up three copies of the anthology, one which was for me. We spent my last few hours next door at Vesuvio which was THE Beat bar, and had a very Tombstoney feel to me, and drank and talked and talked and talked as the rain poured down and into the window next to us on the second floor.

George - "had eyes the color of a gas flame and this unwavering, blinkless blue stare, like he could bend metal with his mind."

Ralph - "was a leaden stump of orange fur. I never saw Ralph move from his spot on Skinner's balcony, not once, but I never saw the same pile of feathers beside him either.

San Fran is one hell of a town. When I told my dad Craig lives in the Tenderloin he said, "Oh my GOD. How many guns does he own?" It's probably not the safest part of town, it's true. But it was bustling and full of creative people. It rained all day yesterday and kicking it at the airport was awesome. My flight was delayed almost 4 hours. I truly miss the pre-911 days when friends could see you all the way to the gate. We could have hung out for a few more hours. Thank God the plane showed up earlier than expected. I still got in at around 1:30 this morning. At least I'm more than half way through Steve Martin's autobiography now. Sky Mall catalouge. Bonus! I'm looking forward to another trip to the city.

Happy Valentine's Day to you, darlin'!