feather2pixels

Earlier this week, the 24th Street Project was finally ready to be installed at the new Local Mission Eatery. So I bought a 6 pack, rallied some friends, and we spent six hours fastening a grid of 350 wood tiles to six enormous slabs of MDX.  Three days later the industrial grade glue still hasn’t come of our hands, but I have a warm feeling from knowing how dedicated my friends are in my time of need.

Thanks to:

• Jim
• Erin
• To-Shi-O
• Cat
• Yaron (owner of Local Mission Eatery)
• Laser

And now you shall witness the proceedings on this third rate video I made.  (Pay attention to the second part of the time lapse and you can see the inimitable Phil–proprietor of the legendary Philz coffee shop two doors down–look on with questionable approval)

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Last week, a few people held a belated surprise birthday party for To-Shi-O, who is my beloved roommate of lo these last three-and-a-half-plus years. By complete coincidence I also happen to be To-Shi-O’s beloved roommate of lo these last three-and-a-half-plus years and so I was invited. To the best of our combined ability we dressed in costume as Him, transcribed His paper crane tattoo upon our forearms, and greeted Him in the way of his own tongue, thus consummating the cult of To-Shi-O. And the good thing about belated surprise birthday parties is that they are all the more unexpected.

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Guess which day in April To-Shi-O linked to feather2pixels in his eco-tip at work?  I will give you a hint:

To-shi-o and I joined a softball team organized by his coworker Mike. So it was that ‘neath the Tuesday night moonshadow of the Golden Gate Bridge we were slugging it out against Victorious Secret with twelve of our new best friends. While the opposition warmed up on the field, we set up our grill. And drank. The first inning ended with a seven run limit, the hot dogs were brown by the third, and in the fourth I fucked up my left knee breaking up a play at third base. Probably because we only had an hour to play anyway, the mercy rule was not enforced. Final score: 22-1.

Why is To-Shi-O dragging a keg?

For our third party is why! We had what I guess was technically a kegger on Saturday night and it was reasonably successful. That is to say people showed up to our apartment, drank, and eventually left. The only casualties were a shower curtain and a scrappy rug—just a shower curtain if you don’t mind the rotting smell of old trendy pilsner.

Speaking of people who don’t mind the smell of rotting beer, Danny humored me while I told him all about the weekend. Afterwards, he added, “Yeah we usually have a couple of kegs at every party.” A couple?! How often does Danny’s house have parties, anyways? “You know, a couple of times a month.” Lesson: never try and amuse a Big Ten student with your keg-obtaining exploits.

Another great photo booth shoot, taken with the outstanding unit at The Knockout, after Thursday night Bingo. I especially like the second one:

Speaking of To-shi-O, that guy has been talking about building a critical mass bike-stereo, practically since I have known him. It finally debuted on Friday.

There are plenty of bike stereos at any given critical mass, the most ambitious of which are powered by car batteries, toted around in carts, and audible from a block away. Sonically speaking, competing with those fuckers is a fool’s errand. But it’s a huge mass with plenty of room for riders with more modest arrangements, like To-shi-o, a little guy with a big dream to share his playlist with the masses–his indie rock alternative to burning man techno.

With the enlistment of Alfonso, who works in a professional sign shop, the project took on a new level of ambition. Mostly, the stereo ended up looking a lot slicker than I ever imagined, complete with vinyl decals and an iPod holder. Also, I was impressed that the thing ran off of eight AA batteries and used sheets of foam core to amplify the sound (the same way a homemade speaker works with a paper plate: move larger surfaces of air, get more sound). The excitement before the ride was palpable:

The Death Byke Stereo turned out to be a lot less loud outside, surrounded by rush hour traffic. I wouldn’t call it inaudible but, beyond a one bike radius, the Go Team definitely faded into the ether. To-shi-o was pretty disappointed: as a personal stereo it was brilliant, but he obviously had his sights set on bigger things. By the ride home, though, he was already brainstorming modifications and I admire his determination.

And the night wasn’t all defeat. We ran into Sylvia (from the Exploratorium), who helped us finish our water bottle of Jim Beam and who afterwards invited us East (Death Byke Stereo: satisfyingly loud in the BART station). People in the East Bay seem to be fascinated with life, death, and decay and in this way Sylvia’s place might be the most quintessentially East Bay apartment in the history of Oakland. It’s a vortex of plants, composts, found/made furniture, and quirky little messes. After a night of vegetable pizza and homemade beer, To-shi-o and I decided that it ruled.