COURT JESTERINGS

With h brown

San Francisco mayoral candidate, h. "Court Jester" Brown.
Photo(s) by Luke Thomas

24 hours in the life of h. Brown

("and that brings up Bonds!" - radio)

By h. brown

June 24, 2007

First, let's dump all this "Can't we all be civil and just get along?" bullshit. Of course we can't. We've never been able to. In 5,000 years of human history, we have records and evidence of 25,000 wars, around 5 a year. I was talking about it with Eric Steinberg, the local head of Homeland Security at City Hall, and a CIA mole named Wayne Justmann (at least, that's what they said they were when I challenged them) … was talking to Eric and Wayne while tossing glancing shots at Mike Farrah and Margaret Brodkin (I met her at Oberlin College long ago) and getting some advice to let up on Peskin from Daly aide, James Keyes, and getting my pic taken with a couple of FCJ frequent fliers (Elaine Santore and Hope Johnson).

Homeland Security head and h. Brown's homie, Eric Steinberg,
poses with Brown and Wayne Justmann.

James Keyes and h. Brown.

Mayoral arm candy Hope Johnson and Elaine Santore.

I was there on the stairs of City Hall to support Daly's counter-budget before Thursday's Budget Committee meeting. The crowd was both game and randy. The Mayor and the feds and the cops had their people working the crowd (poor people are automatically considered potential terrorists) and I worked them as they worked us.

Steinberg told me I was no danger (good news) and they didn't need to pick me up because they knew everywhere I went. He said that no one paid any attention to me anyway.

I nodded and asked if he could get the fat Sheriff's sergeant out of the street cause he had no reason to be there and that he always just harassed people anyway. I asked Farrah why Newsom didn't have the juice to have a permanent cop in the crosswalk during business hours in front of City Hall like Willie did and he got a little pissed and a couple of minutes later an SFPD cop roared up and parked on the sidewalk across the street and ran over and chased off the fat deputy with the attitude. I don't know if Farrah or Steinberg made that happen, but it was a big improvement. The crowd started at 200, but by the time everyone was ready to go inside there were easily 500 people wandering the area.

Apologies to Steinberg's assistant

I like Steinberg. We talked about war strategy from China to Switzerland as the crowd shifted around the demonstration and he barked an occasional order into his walkie-talkie. He's sharp. I know more about war than most generals, and he knows more than I do. My specialty is nuclear war and armaments (spent years writing on the subject), but Eric knows classic warfare.

He mentioned offhand that I'd made a derogatory remark about his assistant when the guy started a year or two back (I did it in print), and he wasn't happy about it. I offered apologies and promised to put an apology in this column. Goddamn, I do a lot of apologizing (pardon my blasphemy). I did point out to the DHS station chief (no, I don't know that for certain and I am, after all, a satirist) … did note to him that his remembering a line from a column I wrote a couple of years back and never sent to him, seemed to contradict his dismissal of my work. He laughed and told me that if he told me what he really did that he'd have to kill me. We both laughed. It's kind of like our pass-phrase.

Anyway, we're not all enemies all the time. Gavin doesn't send Farrah down to work a crowd by accident. Michael is a powerful personality but he is a gentleman and you can't rattle him, or get any information from him. Most of the Newsom circle is like that now. The cops don't send hotheads either, nor do the feds. And, trust me, they are at every such gathering.

Luke, Elaine and Hope went inside to watch testimony, but I knew it would last many hours and begged off to go take a nap. We gathered for the 2-hour window in which my pal, Jens Nielsen's 'World's Smallest Nightclub' is open (been going there for 30 years when I'm in town) … it turned out that Tenderloin precinct Captain Jimenez was ready with a show below Jens' window. Dig the pictures below of us settling in with a bottle of champagne and a will to keep rocking 'til we drop and the others of Jimenez's guys doing their job.

Everything you've heard and read about Fog City Journal is true, just like you know who...

Tenderloin detectives bust bad guys!

Incidentally, those of us who have lived in the TL for a couple of decades or more do not consider drug dealers, crack whores, pimps and the insane to be necessary street furniture. Do not assume that just because you think I am a bleeding heart liberal, that I am a bleeding heart liberal. Nice job Thursday night Captain Gary Jimenez. I do hate to tell you that by noon Friday, the black whores and dealers from Oakland had been replaced with a much younger contingent (Lord, these girls are out there in their early teens) … from Mexico City (so they say). Whatever, credit where due and Gary's guys cleared the tough, tough corner of O'Farrell and Larkin and Jens' block down Larkin east for almost 24 hours. Get really radical Gary.

Captain Gary Jimenez' guys doing their job.

Other than things you don't need to know, that was Thursday from 4pm 'til 10pm. At all other times, I am either bent over this computer while listening to wild rock music, smoking pot and drinking bourbon … or, passed out on the floor. It's probably not the smartest way to lead your life, but I've been productive and I'll give up creature comforts for art every time.

What happened next?

There was this cockroach, you see? Jens doesn't have them, so coming across the thing in the leftovers from the previous night's glass of champagne was a bit of a surprise.

Jens was getting ready to go to the Sonoma Fair with Chuck Gonzalez and 'Wiggy' to see Cheap Trick and he had the day off. Jens being off, I filed a column (you having any trouble getting these? - may be slight distribution problem) … so, I filed a column around 9am and went and hung out with Jens for a couple of hours before proceeding to my Bulldog Salon. Anyway, there was this roach.

I'd brought bourbon, so I didn't want the wine, but the glass was so dirty that I didn't notice the floating bug until I poured the glass into the sink. It wouldn't drain down through the narrow filter, so I ignored it and went to drinking and smoking and listening and talking and the same stuff we've done since Johnson was president.

Later, I went to the sink to take a leak (that's the not-so-secret, secret of SRO life) and when I whizzed, the roach floated up in the foam and it was disgusting even for a low-life like me and after I'd flushed the sink properly I went and got a bit of toilet tissue and took the thing out of the sink and started to toss it into the trash and Jens asked what it was and I said that it was a roach drowned in cheap wine and piss and Jens says with a straight face:

"Do you think we should give it mouth to mouth?"

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Then came the Summer Solstice Salon

It was yesterday and like today, it was a gorgeous and sunny San Francisco day. The streets were swelling with hundreds of thousands of tourists in for Gay Pride Week. Lit up at Jens', I fouled my card a bit with some of the regulars. It was one of those gatherings where half the people don't want their names mentioned and you wouldn't recognize them anyway and that's the idea (we gotta get these things indoors). One of those gatherings. I ranted at Marc Salomon about chat rooms and Jerry Jervis about neighborhood activism and Janet Tandy told me I was over-the-top and she wouldn't come back if I didn't quit being so drunk and I told her that I had to be me (yeah, I know, I've sent regrets - overall, a very passionate day with lots of joys and regrets).

No one took pictures and I won't tell you the topics cause I don't remember them all but for 2 hours (kinda like 'World's Smallest Nightclub') … for 2 hours, you can't find a purer rush. It led naturally to a nap and a re-group at Alex Clemens' 40th birthday party.

Why does Clemens hate Luke Thomas?

Shouldn't there be some clear reason for a feud? I mean, Cain killed Abel because Abel was banging his wife or something, right? You don't have to have a reason for doing something, but when your activity involves others, it would be nice. That's why I hate this Clemens/Thomas feud (entirely one-sided on Alex's part at this time).

I was looking forward to a hell of time hob-nobbing with Alex's community, as it were and then he tells me that Luke Thomas isn't welcome and I keep thinking that I cleared that up the other night when I drunk-dialed him and told him I wanted to bring 4 women, plus Luke and Elaine. Clearly, I missed the connection. He was asleep and I was drunk when we talked. Not the best combination.

Anyway, I took a nap after Salon and straggled in an hour late but sober for the Clemens bash. I managed to insult Aaron Peskin and Sam Singer (a new introduction - 'Hi Sam, watch your bottom line.') … Barely passed the door when Alex came up to whisper to me outside that Luke Thomas was not welcome. When I asked him why, he got all vague and I left it at that and boycotted. I should note that as I left, Sue Vaughan and Joe Lynn (pure Greens?) they came up to me and I told them why I was leaving and both of them walked me halfway up the street, then looked back at Peskin beckoning to them and … went with Peskin. Power has great allure.

My fire escape looks right down on the Gay Pride Parade and I'm having a private party on my fire escape for 2 hours. Why are all good times only 2 hours? Is there an echo in here? Maybe that roach was a re--incarnated famous Green Party hero.

"If you want to get down on the ground?

Cocaine.

She don't lie, she don't lie, she don't lie:

Cocaine"

(Eric Clapton)

h. brown is a 62 year-old keeper of sfbulldog.com, an eclectic site featuring a half dozen City Hall denizens. h is a former sailor, firefighter, teacher, nightclub owner, and a hard-living satirical muckraker. Email h at h@ludd.net.

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