Fit to Print
The rain started as I was headed up to catch the 6 downtown.
I waited on Market for my friend to exit Bloomingdale's and we walked to Cody's. It was a combined book launch and closing party for the bookstore. Once inside we noticed the cover of Oh the Hell of It All was exactly like her sons book Oh the Glory of It All. I looked at the posters and saw the signature Rolling Stone Tongue hanging out and I showed it to my friend, "this is how I am feeling today."
We talked about our day, passing on the pelegrino, cheese and meringues, "where is the wine I asked?" She laughed, asked where we should go to dinner after the reading: I would forgo dinner for a heavy red wine I said. We decided on small plates. Looking at the crowd as we took our seats I added, "make it a goblet of wine."
She asked about my interview at KQED for a spot on a PBS funded media log. She had her opinions on the direction of it all and I said to her, let me quote the interviewer for you directly, 'I want to reach out beyond the insular group of white men in the field of technology that read my web log.' Somethings can't change, fast enough: Why not help him out? MediaShift.org
After the opening folk singers sang I'll Fly Away and I was the only one who had probably never heard that hymnal, I thanked my friend for joining me. I wanted to see how this character from the book played out, all I remember is that in her sons book she repeatedly threatened to jump from her glass plated penthouse after her husband left her and her best friend betrayed her.
What Pat Montandon said was along the lines of while she was betrayed and seemingly left to be crushed by the weight of the events, she wasn't. Her son Sean Wilsey writes honestly about how sometimes a parents love or lack their of can set the stage for their child's life. In his case the worst that happened was he stold a scooter, got put in juvie and sent to retreat among the pastoral Italian countryside. I will admit though, I would never trade his experiences for my own loving two parent home.
It was light reading I picked up for a weekend trip. Suddenly I was in the middle of their novela as an audience member yelled out, "Bitch," in response to the mention of , 'Dede now Wilsey.' All I know is that Dede is the woman (read money) behind the de Young museum and the Aztec inspired main tower is a masterpiece. Yes, she also did steal her best friends husband.
As I sat there listening to how Montandons first husband took the then 18 year old preachers daughter to get her hymen cut before they got married was, "who does that?!" My friend and I were horrified. If it were fiction we may have reacted differently.
When it comes down to it, there never really is a way to get the full story when betrayal and hurt ravages a family. It is not really something that can be understood by those outside of the immediate exchange. It was a diversion for me to read the story. Yet in a way I felt sorry for them, that they were never given or had not chosen the opportunity to either grieve or get over their betrayal in private.
The chocolate ganache cake and champagne did not disappoint us.
We turned right out the door into the rain in the heart of downtown, looking for a place to drink and spill our thoughts.
I waited on Market for my friend to exit Bloomingdale's and we walked to Cody's. It was a combined book launch and closing party for the bookstore. Once inside we noticed the cover of Oh the Hell of It All was exactly like her sons book Oh the Glory of It All. I looked at the posters and saw the signature Rolling Stone Tongue hanging out and I showed it to my friend, "this is how I am feeling today."
We talked about our day, passing on the pelegrino, cheese and meringues, "where is the wine I asked?" She laughed, asked where we should go to dinner after the reading: I would forgo dinner for a heavy red wine I said. We decided on small plates. Looking at the crowd as we took our seats I added, "make it a goblet of wine."
She asked about my interview at KQED for a spot on a PBS funded media log. She had her opinions on the direction of it all and I said to her, let me quote the interviewer for you directly, 'I want to reach out beyond the insular group of white men in the field of technology that read my web log.' Somethings can't change, fast enough: Why not help him out? MediaShift.org
After the opening folk singers sang I'll Fly Away and I was the only one who had probably never heard that hymnal, I thanked my friend for joining me. I wanted to see how this character from the book played out, all I remember is that in her sons book she repeatedly threatened to jump from her glass plated penthouse after her husband left her and her best friend betrayed her.
What Pat Montandon said was along the lines of while she was betrayed and seemingly left to be crushed by the weight of the events, she wasn't. Her son Sean Wilsey writes honestly about how sometimes a parents love or lack their of can set the stage for their child's life. In his case the worst that happened was he stold a scooter, got put in juvie and sent to retreat among the pastoral Italian countryside. I will admit though, I would never trade his experiences for my own loving two parent home.
It was light reading I picked up for a weekend trip. Suddenly I was in the middle of their novela as an audience member yelled out, "Bitch," in response to the mention of , 'Dede now Wilsey.' All I know is that Dede is the woman (read money) behind the de Young museum and the Aztec inspired main tower is a masterpiece. Yes, she also did steal her best friends husband.
As I sat there listening to how Montandons first husband took the then 18 year old preachers daughter to get her hymen cut before they got married was, "who does that?!" My friend and I were horrified. If it were fiction we may have reacted differently.
When it comes down to it, there never really is a way to get the full story when betrayal and hurt ravages a family. It is not really something that can be understood by those outside of the immediate exchange. It was a diversion for me to read the story. Yet in a way I felt sorry for them, that they were never given or had not chosen the opportunity to either grieve or get over their betrayal in private.
The chocolate ganache cake and champagne did not disappoint us.
We turned right out the door into the rain in the heart of downtown, looking for a place to drink and spill our thoughts.
posted by Lorena | 1:00 PM
2 Comments:
hey, nice blog. will be checking in often. esp love the bay are references -- cody's, etc. i miss sf. come visit my site sometime.
J- you are right. I wouldn't waste good tequila on him either :)
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