The Edwardian Ball San Francisco 2012

The Edwardian Ball at the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco is an annual extravaganza that just can’t be conveyed in pictures or words. Yesterday, my friend Mary called and asked if I would be interested in changing our plans to celebrate her birthday up in San Francisco at this heralded event. Trusting her uncanny knack for discovering cool, quirky, and culturally-rich things to do, I agreed.

Checking out their website, I immediately discovered I may have agreed to more than I bargained for! Period costume, though not required, was encouraged. And so I found myself in downtown Santa Cruz, first at the Thrift Store, then the Hat Shop, then standing in front of the mirror, complete with a mustache and eye-liner (haven’t worn that since the 80s…) ready for action.

“For 10 years now the Ball has proven, through its collection of the best in local and far-reaching performance talents — from the circus to the music hall — and its inherent power to inspire and produce the utmost in imaginative creativity, to be one of the most defining events of San Francisco.” - SF Examiner

We started the evening at a nearby sushi restaurant – Wayo Sushi – and met her interesting friends Craig, an attorney that plays and writes music and meditates, and Laura, a well-traveled, warm and diverse Osteopathic  doctor – the perfect pair to join us for this evening of debauchery.

Just a block away, the multi-story Regency Building, boasting 2 ballrooms, a neoclassic, Scottish Rite, and beaux arts style architecture, and built in 1909, was our destination for the evening.

Immediately upon entering the building and taking in the sights and sounds, it was clear “We’re not in Kansas anymore…” While almost everyone sported period dress, this was unmistakably 2012 San Francisco, where (almost) anything goes.

We decided rather than foisting ourselves immediately into the main ballroom to visit the vendor faire downstairs, where the juxtaposition of Edwardian-meets-goth-meets-sexy was everywhere, and took the opportunity to pick up a commemorative bauble for my awesome girlfriend, Stacy, back in Santa Cruz. Booth after booth of everything from leather corsets, jewelry, to costume ball masks worthy of Kubrick’s “Eyes Wide Shut”…

From there, we visited the nearest bar, and the drink of the night was Absinthe. But being the designated driver, I opted for something less hypnotic. The Grand Ballroom was everything I’d heard it would be – vast, ornate, and …well… grand. The band was somehow synthesizing period ragtime and waltzes with a techno-rave beat. I still don’t know how they did it, but anything that gets yours truly to dance (let alone waltz!) is worthy of mention.

Taking the intriguing, antiquated elevator to the top floor, we witnessed a vast array of quirkiness – performers jumping on broken glass, a groove-beat ukulele player, and installation art that included apocalyptic scenes reminiscent of “Road Warrior”

But there’s something indescribable that was happening last night. It was in the way that attendees greeted each other, smiled at each other, complimented and amused each other. It was a recognition that we’d found another “tribe” that we belonged to. Unlike Halloween, when everyone is expected to get dressed up, this event was voluntary. Harking back to its’ Edwardian origins, which signaled the end of the repressive Victorian era around the turn of the century and heralded in a greater appreciation for the hedonistic and things cultural, the Ball gives us an opportunity to completely shed the stigma, the persona, the stress of who we are in 2012, and jump on a timeless merry-go-round for a few hours.

“The 10th Annual Edwardian Ball was a fitting, San Francisco-style homage to the cartoon-Gothic writer and illustrator Edward Gorey with a riveting multimedia extravaganza of music, dance, video, art installations, and aerial acrobatics.” – SF Weekly.com

New Year's Day, Old Traditions - 2012

“All that you touch, and all that you see,
Is all your life will ever be..." ...and so it goes as I drive north from Santa Cruz to meet my friend Mary for what has become a New Year's Day tradition for me, and lately for her, too.

Six or seven years ago, I drove up the coast to the Mt. Hope cemetery in Pescadero on a cool, crisp, sunny New Year’s Day. Parked my car, pulled out my iPod, and took in the sights while listening to Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon.” And every year since, I’ve gone either there or to another for the same reason – to try and appreciate and better understand life, by reminding myself of its finiteness. It’s a wake-up call on the first day of the year to live each day to its fullest this year, and appreciate my health, my friends, my love, and my life.

“And then one day you find ten years have gone behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.”

After meeting Mary at Peet’s coffee on Piedmont in Oakland, we drive a few blocks to the granddaddy of them all – the Mountainview Cemetary : http://www.mountainviewcemetery.org/

A beautiful, seemingly endless expanse of rolling hills, valleys, lawns, trees, gravestones, crypts, and mausoleum unfolds driving through late afternoon, and we find a spot to pull off and walk.

And immediately it hits me as I see a modest gravestone with the inscription “A FRIEND TO MEN.” And wonder what the inscription on mine might read…

The gravestones date back to the mid-1800s. From simple, humble squares, to majestic crypts, these weathered limestone icons, mottled with moss, tell many a tale for those willing to listen. From a cerebral level, it’s interesting to follow the family timelines, thinking about the 25 years that a widow survived after her husband’s death, or find the grave of a prominent businessman, performer, or politician, for example.

One such stone told the story of a famous Japanese-American named Korematsu, an ardent civil rights activist that fought against Japanese internment during WW2, and who Mary had actually met a few years ago.

And from an existential perspective, these silent sentinels remind one of the fleeting, temporal nature of our lives. How even these will wear away someday. And to me, how the contributions I make to friends, family, and this world are the important, lasting legacy that one leaves behind in the end.

“All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.”

After sunset, we made our way back down Piedmont, had a drink at a fabulous place called Cesar, and then landed at the heralded restaurant called Commis for dinner. http://www.commisrestaurant.com/ . This is a place that needs no sign out front. It is a place that takes “food-as-art” to a whole ‘nother level. GQ Magazine has called it one of the "10 Best New Restaurants 2010 in America." The nine-course meal started out with a bowl of rocks – literally. But our waiter explained that we would find a rosemary/polenta version rolled in “vegetable ash” amongst them.

“Choose wisely,” he said, and walked away.

The sumptuous, liesurely meal was a feast for the senses, and a noble way to ring in 2012.

Lastly, we ducked into a nearby bookstore called “Owl & Company Bookstore” http://www.owlandcompany.com/ . You could tell looking in through the windows outside that this was a classic, old-school bookstore, with books from floor to ceiling along the walls, some over 100 years old, with that smell of old books – organic, slightly musty, and real.

 The owner, Todd, was sporting a day’s unshaven visage, blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and from our literary conversation about everything from Amazon.com to Rabindranath Tagore, his passion for books, knowledge, and visceral truth was palpable.

And so ended our beginning of this new year – 2012. Full of guarded optimism with the groundwork I’ve laid in these last few months, steeling and re-tooling myself to survive this economy, to stay close to family and friends, and to continue to build this awesome life together with Stacy. And full of hope for friends far and near, that this year will bring light at the end of the tunnel, peace, and prosperity.

 “The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.”

Hashi.org in 2011

Hello, and a Happy New Year, friends!

Most of you know about the non-profit organization I started back in 2006 – hashi.org – which is a California Non-Profit organization dedicated to promoting cultural exchange opportunities between East Asia and America. “Hashi” means “bridge” in Japanese. This year, in particular, has been an inspiring yet tragic time, with the Japanese earthquake and tsunami in March, and the sudden changes brought about in North Korea by the death of Kim Jong Il.

And as you know, we’ve been having a tough time right here in America. At times, it seems all we can do to take care of ourselves and our families in this down economy.  And with so much unrest and division in the world right now, it’s hard to know how to help. I consider the $1000 scholarships that hashi.org gives out each year to be a small way of helping to ease that unrest and division, and instead,  building  a bridge by investing in the education, travel, and experience of those most worthy scholarship applicants. Here’s a sample of recent recipients.

	Trevor is our American winner this year, and is majoring in advertising with a minor in Japanese and Business, who is now studying at Toyo University through the ISEP exchange. He is a musician as well, and writes his own music and is deeply interested in Japanese music, and looks forward to sharing and performing while in Japan. And while there, he'll be joining up with a group to help with the tsunami and earthquake relief effort in the Sendai region.
	Our Japanese winner has come to research as a Fellow at the NASA Ames Research Center in California. Although he is a PhD student of Yokohama National University in Japan, his study is a joint research project between NASA and Japan.  He's volunteering a few times a week to teach Japanese. That Volunteer Club is working with people from many countries, such as South Korea, Taiwan, India, USA, and Israel. He’s teaching about Japanese culture and customs in addition to language studies.
	Our recent Korean scholarship winner, Kim Eun Young, is in her senior year at University majoring in political science and diplomacy. She has taught children, participated in cultural exchange programs between Korea, China, and Russia, and wants to intern in America and write her thesis on applying ‘American Federal Government’ to international politics.

As we ease into the New Year, if you feel  drawn to help with our efforts, your donation would be so appreciated! Because I volunteer my time and office, we have almost no overhead, and your donation will go directly to help fund these scholarships.  And as a 501c3 non-profit organization, it will be fully tax-deductible, too!   http://www.hashi.org/donation.html

Thank you for taking the time to learn about hashi.org!

Here’s to a peaceful and prosperous new year in 2012,

Michael

http://www.hashi.org

The End of an Era – From My Space to Less Space

It was July, 2006, and I was in LA recording the “Bridge of No Return” CD, and my producer, David Longoria, said something like “Man, you gotta be on MySpace!” And so it started, the voracious monster that was My Space for Music five years ago – Get more friends! Get more comments! Get more Likes! It set a new standard for independent DIY musicians’ ability to reach fans, promote their music, tours, merchandise, and ideas.

There was a lot to love about MySpace back then. Customizable profile pages, a super-slick streaming widget for songs, robust blog platform, and Friends! Thousands and thousands of Friends!!! Meanwhile, Facebook (2004) was starting to catch on, and then Twitter (2008) became the SNS du jour . Slowly, but surely, our attention-span for producing and consuming an online dialogue was being whittled down to 164 characters or less.  

I took the plunge to Facebook in early 2010, wanting to connect with real, here-and-now “friends,” while staying active with MySpace to promote my music. But at the same time, MySpace was making desperate attempts to recapture the mass exodus that was happening. Before the dust settled, they had neutered the blog platform, and instead put energy into Facebook- and Twitter-like functions like “Check-in,” et al. Somehow, I’m thinking when Shakespeare uttered the words “Brevity is the soul of wit,” he wasn’t thinking Facebook- or Twitter-brevity. Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as interested in what you had for dinner, how your commute to work went, what you’re listening to on Spotify, spiritual mandates, political rants, and pet photos as the next guy. I also appreciate the friends, writers, and organizations that contribute to the online dialogue that in some ways make up for the loss of human interaction that technology has brought on, and post comments, blogs, photos, and articles that inform, inspire, and involve us.

And so, I am closing my MySpace page, and with the help of my talented assistant, Sara,  have launched an exciting, multi-platform way of  “putting it out there.”

Facebook -   https://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=667837430

Nothing changing here. Still the best way to stay connected with friends, old and new.

Facebook Music Page - https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Michael-J-Downey/10150161100620145

Great new page with music, videos, photos, etc from Michael J Downey and the World. Now check it out and LIKE me, dangit!

Michaeljdowney.com – http://www.michaeljdowney.com/

We’ve completely re-tooled the home page with new links, a live RSS feed of recent blogs, etc. And I’m very excited that we were able to save all the blogs from MySpace and make them available via the new blog page – http://www.michaeljdowney.com/blog/blog.html

Japan tours, Korea trips, recording in LA, and random thoughts on music, travel, and life!

Hashi.org – http://www.hashi.org

My California Non-Profit Organization dedicated to furthering cultural exchange between the US, Japan, and Korea. Home page has live RSS blog feed, and searchable database of cultural exchange opportunities (e.g.- student exchange, homestay, volunteer opportunities, et al).

...the ancient art of conversation...

Don Henley at the Mountain Winery

He was with me on my old car radio some 30 years ago, cruising through hot, Indiana, summer nights with the window down, singing "Witchy Woman" and "One of Those Nights."

He was with me a few years later, cruising up Hwy 395, then finding myself at a campfire at the foot of the Sierras singing "The Boys of Summer" and "Sunset Grill." The "End of (his) Innocence" coincided with mine, seduced by my new town at the time - LA. And he was with me in spirit as I played and sang "Heart of the Matter" for the 527th time at bars, coffeehouses, parties, and a girl's front porch.  

Tonight he played these songs, and songs from his days with the Eagles, and all the best songs from his celebrated solo years, and with the help of a rock-solid band, diverted down a couple of funky, 80’s by-ways including a “Tears For Fears” song. Watching and listening to him tonight, I realized that he’s been with me my entire adult life. His songs have moved me, validated me, as if to say “You’re not such a freak. There’s other people that think this way. Other people that see the world this way.” His lyrics, his causes (Walden Pond, et al), his tenacity, his seeming balance between the bohemian of the 70s to the spokesman and poet he is today – he’s been one of the few, modern-day, “moral compasses” in my life.  

And to see him tonight with my awesome girlfriend in this amazing place – the wistful “New York Minute,” the spiritually powerful “Everything is Different Now...” and I’d look over at her and think “All those years. I thought you’d never come,” and get a little misty-eyed.

Maybe he’s at a place in his life, maybe it’s this place, or both, but he put on such a  performance. He was so in-the-moment - responding to the crowd, telling great stories, and singing and playing with passion. And at times looking around at the crowd, singing along with songs we’ve known for years, and again feeling that validation that “oh yah, there’s other’s like me. This is my tribe…I want them all to be my facebook friends.”

Starting off the evening with a great dinner there on the Chateau Deck, and finishing the evening by running into our good friends Stacie and John, the night couldn’t have been more perfect. And everything is different now…



Photo by Stacie Tamaki





Escape to New York

Vacations for some mean lying on tropical, sandy beaches,  banana boats and Margaritas, zenning out on yoga retreats, or, something about…getting “back to nature.”. We tend to plan the kinds of getaways that make friends think, “You’re going to need a vacation after your vacation!”  And so it was, at the ungodly hour of 4am last Wednesday – Thanksgiving Eve – the alarm clock signaled the start of our latest adventure: four jam-packed days in New York City, the antitheses of (and antidote for) the abstract, liberal outpost we live in. Aside from being on opposite coasts, Santa Cruz and New York represented the polar opposite ends of the political, social, and cultural spectrum.

Contrary to the doom-saying media, getting through both SFO, and the Newark, New Jersey airports were completely smooth and uneventful. No cavity searches, no body scans, either. On our cab ride into the city, our Haitian cabby, who for no other apparent reason other than his name was William, entreated us to an exhaustive discussion of the succession rites of British Royalty. Random. But it’s been almost 8 years since I’ve been to the city, and it’s Stacy’s first time, so the anticipation of the approaching city lights and towering buildings was all we could think about, and poor William’s lecture fell largely on deaf ears.

After arriving and checking into our hotel, the W in Times Square, we set out for our first adventure. Some 35 blocks north on Central Park West, the line-up of giant balloons, stars of tomorrow’s Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade were being inflated and readied. In years past, I and a handful of local families ventured out on this night to take in the spectacle. But these days, the secret’s out, and it’s become an “event,” complete with crowds, barricades, and being herded along the line of tomorrow’s colorful stars. Still, there’s nothing like it in the world.

NOTE TO SELF – dragging Girlfriend out on a 70-block march the first night we arrive in the city risks a certain, hazardous fallout …hail a cab! Luckily, we ducked into a nearby ready-made Italian joint, where the sights and smells of fresh pizza and calzones and salads made forgetting our sore feet and ravenous appetites a little easier. This was the real deal…

Thursday, we wake to the faint hum of the crowds below, and from 35-floors above, open the window shades and take in the spectacle below, the behemoth tall buildings around us,  and the perfect, grey sky of Thanksgiving morning above. A very healthy, Santa Cruz-style breakfast arrives, and we camp-out in the window-box, piling pillows on the adjacent desk watching the spectacle unfold below, in the exact order that we saw it in last night!

Later, after a fabulous new twist on the traditional Thanksgiving dinner at Blue Fin, the restaurant at the W, we went to see “Strawberry Fields,” a Beatles-revival band at B.B.Kings.

 Oddly, another similar clone band recently mutated – “Rain” – and is playing across town right now. Sadly, two clones don’t even come close to adding up to the real thing, but for a nostalgic, holiday evening’s entertainment, it was just what the doctor ordered.

Friday. Black Friday. Our mission, infiltrate the maddening crowds at Macy’s, then retreat to the more gentile climes of Fifth Avenue.

First, Macy’s – the epicenter of Black Friday madness. We throw ourselves on the throngs of shoppers, not in search of deals, but rather to experience the spectacle of this sea of humanity. Some people pay good money to enter an amusement park and be whisked away on its’ rides. For us, the price of admission to this roller coaster was nothing other than the cost of a new shirt, wallet, and a couple of very smart and cute kid’s outfits.

One very short cab ride away we find ourselves seated on a comfortable couch on the uncrowded, unhurried 2^nd floor of Prada/Fifth^th Avenue, the salesperson bringing us glasses of Pellegrino. The joy I get in seeing my sexy girl trying on these works-of-art, and the smile on her face, eventually gave way to my cue, and upon hearing “I’ll take them!” stepped up to my manly duties.

She walked out with the most beautiful, soft, sexy, grey suede boots I’d ever seen. And after a few more stops on Madison and Park Avenues, we made our way across Central Park, taking in the zoo, the autumn trees, and sharing some amazing, fresh honey-roasted cashews with one of the local denizens.

Friday night, we make our way to the theatrical piece-de-resistance, “The Merchant of Venice,” starring Al Pacino. The Broadhurst Theater, itself a seemingly timeless masterpiece that evoked such a deep reverence for the countless thousands of nights that theater-goers had been entertained inside its walls,  and how countless actors and actresses, just like tonight, had graced its majestic stage.

Pacino was brilliant, as was the entire cast, set amidst a metallic, minimalist stage with multiple configurations that, rather than calling attention to themselves, left the focus on the actors and their message. A sometimes brutal, sometimes beautiful story by Shakespeare was told in a riveting hybrid of original dialogue and modern parlance. We had to be booted out of the theater after the show, for not wanting to leave this magical place and experience.

Afterwards, perhaps the only thing that could follow an act like that was “The View” restaurant and lounge – rotating high atop the 80-storey Marriot hotel in Times Square, offered awe-inspiring 360-degree views of the city, and memorable cocktails as well.

Saturday, after a delicious encore performance by our neighborhood Italian joint, this time for breakfast, we make our way to Chelsea, a midtown, artists-loft/art studio part of town. Back in early summer, we had seen a breathtaking work of art at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco, and contacted the artist to inquire about the availability of limited-edition prints.

As it happens, we purchased a print in September, and she agreed to see us while in New York, so we could meet her and see her studio and pick it up personally.

SoHyun Bae was simply the most gracious and fascinating hostess, and immediately we were trading stories – on international issues, travel stories, and…raising children! Before long, we found ourselves at an amazing, if quirky, Korean restaurant continuing this warm-hearted feast of new friends.

After parting, we went to Soho and Greenwich Village for more shopping, window- and otherwise. This time it was *I* who was treated to a great find, courtesy of Girlfriend - a great jacket at Armani Exchange!

The feast of friends continued early that evening, at the chic 48 Lounge where we met friends Nancy and Jim for appetizers and drinks. Stacy has known Nancy for 5 years now, and to have all of us in the same room at the same time was such an event! We had a great time talking, laughing, and getting to know them better.

Saturday night, it’s the spectacle of all spectacles – The Radio City Music Hall’s Christmas Spectacular with the Rockettes. It was a long-time dream-come-true for Stacy, who, as an accomplished dancer herself, was thrilled beyond words with the sights, sounds, the precision and the passion of the show that unfolded before our eyes. Most impressive to me was the way that they incorporated a filmed backdrop with the live action on stage. Amazing. After the show, we make our way to an equally impressive spectacle of the culinary kind, Bobby Flay’s “Bar Americain,” described as modeled after an “American Brasserie in Paris.”

A memorable meal, wine, service, and.. . spectacle. A fitting final dinner for our adventures in the city.

Sunday, we’ve invited a long-time friend of mine, Jeanie for breakfast. She lives on the upper west side along Central Park, and is a colorful, multi-talented New Yorker who’s a musician, real estate agent, et al. After a leisurely breakfast at Blue Fin, where I discovered for the first time that well-made eggs benedict are to-die-for, we bid adieu to Jeanie and this city-that-never-sleeps.

 Rolling past rows of Archie Bunker-houses on our cab ride through Queens, we try to imagine what it’s like for people that live in the city, and people who live in these outlying burrows, so foreign to either of our backgrounds. But that’s what makes a trip like this so rewarding – to step outside our world, our comfort zone, and into an adventure.