What is The Scandal? 8/23/15

Caught BART out to 16th & Mission for Eliana Lopez's performance in "What is The Scandal?" Written by Lopez and her brother, this sometimes hilarious and heartbreaking one-woman show tells Eliana's own side of the story about events leading up to and following the arrest of her husband for spousal abuse. Her husband being the one San Francisco Sheriff Ross Mirkarimi, a former SF Supervisor--- tapped by the outgoing Sheriff as his heir apparent---who ran, won office, and ended up being blind sided by the handcuffs placed on him out of the blue shortly after being sworn into office. 

I said 'hello' to Mirkarimi who stood tall and tan outside the theatre before the show.  I made a point to speak to him again after the performance on my way up the aisle in tears and a bit non-plussed by Eliana's side of the story. Until now, these events sat filed away as a vague memory, their story cobbled together from local news coverage.

Eliana's story does more than suggest that she was silenced by the political machine pulling the strings against her husband --- alone with a toddler and living in a country not yet her own, helping her husband through the busy machinations of the election, once over, communication gaps widen between them as individual expectations conflict---Eliana's without real friends and becomes homesick after missing out on the usual joyful Christmas with her own family in Venezuela. This vivacious spirited and successful woman in her own right at home--- feels miserable. She wants to go home with the baby. As her storytelling unfolds, I concluded that Ross was afraid she'd take his son out of the U.S. and never return. 

The  Scandal . . .

Sitting in jail without the ability to communicate directly with his wife, Mirkarimi receives an ultimatum delivered in person by the Mayor. Eliana receives a call from her own attorney who pleads with her to take the baby and catch the next flight home to Venezuela --- he is fearful of Immigration Control's real or implied threat that she would be deported and never able to return. Go now before IC takes action. Eliana and infant son flee the U.S., the Sheriff is placed under a restraining order---at least six months pass until husband and wife are able to see or talk with one another.

In the meantime, Mirkarimi admits to spousal abuse (he grabbed her arm during a heated argument about her going to Venezuela while on the way to pizza at Delfina's---one of my favorite restaurants in The Mission). A neighbor of theirs befriends Eliana after the pizza night argument and video tapes Eliana's bruised arm, in case Eliana needs this for 'proof' later. The neighbor gives the video to the police at some point after Mirkarimi wins the election for Sheriff. Between the police and Mayor Ed Lee, the situation escalates as local media convicts our new Sheriff in the press. Eliana later writes a letter from Venezuela in which she says that she does not consider grabbing her arm as abuse, her letter is published in the SF Chronicle.

While Eliana positions the play as an immigration related story with a tie-in to abuse and cultural differences, the bigger story seems to be about what we've always known or suspected in SF politics. Mirkarimi himself admits that he kept waiting for what he understood the "system" process to be ---he expected it to work. It did not. He and his last attorney believe the political machine behind the Mayor were using Eliana to get to Mirkarimi. The Mayor and Mirkarimi's own troops didn't want him and still don't today. 

During a bit of pointed questioning by Mirkarimi's attorney at a meeting,  Mayor Lee allegedly sends a text to his people "Get me out of here". A few minutes later, a bomb alert goes off in the building and the Mayor is the only person escorted out of the room to safety. Mirkarimi is then reinstated after the Board of Supervisors vote to do so. On probation for the past three years until recently, Mirakirimi serves without carrying a gun, perhaps the only U.S. sheriff to do so.

Back together as a family, the couple attended therapy and moved from their Western Addition condo (and that next door neighbor) to The Mission District. 

You can't make up this story.

I would not have seen this show were it not for my friends Sherry and Ken who support Mirkarimi. Ken has worked with him before, filming news or other segments. Earlier this year, Ken and Sherry ended up shooting promo clips of "What is The Scandal?" at The Victoria Theatre and continue to support the show and want to help Mirkarimi in the next election. Sherry pulled together about 12 friends and family members for Sunday's performance and some of us went to dinner afterwards. We shared lively conversations about the play, the politics---one member of our party, a former  attorney to President Reagan even made a point to give his legal advice to Mirkarimi after the show. 

Mirkarimi continues to face smack downs. 

The recent July 1 tragic shooting of Kate Steinle on The Embarcadero by an illegal immigrant who was just released from the SF jail ---released without a phone call to our local Immigration Control department whose representatives say they had requested to be notified so they could deport the guy again---for like the fourth or fifth time. Mirkarimi responded that his department was not required to do so and based his position or understanding on current legal statute. The story made International news, the fallacies of Sanctuary City policy controversies exposed. Kate's Law will follow.

Senator Feinstein issued a statement, Mayor Lee issued a statement. The Mayor has not spoken to Mirkarimi in over three years, not once since the spousal abuse arrest scandal. Not once. The Mayor communicates to his Sheriff via memorandums and third party messengers. 

A news article later reported that the gun which killed Kate Steinle was government issued and stored in a backpack stolen out of a car parked on the city street. What government agent with the authority to carry a weapon leaves it in a parked car on the street.?! (I would have been fired for leaving my company's laptop secured in a car trunk or hotel room if it was stolen.)

Many of us remain appalled that our system is this broken and corrupt, it seems incomprehensible. I think we've lost our minds.

Southern Fried Chicken in The Bayview 7/21/15

I love using my time to take Muni routes around the city and find it a fabulous way to see and hear what's going on. I use to do this while in graduate school, it fueled my thinking and writing time. 

Hungry for real Southern fried chicken, I made my way out  the  T-Muni line on Third St. to "Auntie April's" in the Bayview District. With closing time at 4pm, I figured getting there around 2pm for a late brunch and traveling in broad daylight alone would be fairly safe.

I boarded across from the Cal Train Station, there were a few others waiting, including a very large young black woman with two men. She spoke loudly peppering her expressions with numerous iterations of the "f-word".  We ended up sharing the same trolley car. She continued on loudly as if to attract attention to herself on purpose and at one point made a display of zipping up her jeans. I concluded she had a jean's zipper problem, you know those zippers that no matter what one does to try and ensure it stays zipped, it doesn't? I have a pair of those.

One of the men appeared to be a lost soul, skinny, potentially jumpy but still. He kept to himself while hugging a full unopened fifth of liquor under his jacket and a small brown paper bag. The other man appeared older, calm, quietly in charge.The young woman finally sat down. With earplugs linked to her phone, we listened as she sang  along pitch perfect to some rapper deliver a litany of  "f-laced" travails. We listened again when she replayed particular points that she admitted out loud to identify with---we learned the only thing she personally had not experienced yet and survived was cancer. 

I wanted to tell her that she had a nice voice. Instead, I decided it best to not engage. I listened and looked out the windows at the neighborhood along Third Street taking in how the area has changed, learning how we have changed.

The three of them left  the train several stops ahead of me. The young woman lugged a heavy canvas bag filled with various bottles of liquor. She happily boasted to two younger teenage girls she knew (and who had just boarded) that she planned to sell the bottles. I wondered where and how these bottles were acquired in the first place. 

I wondered why this young woman chose to live her life in this way---the way--- is what I imagine, the conclusions drawn about her life from this brief encounter on a Muni trolley in the middle of a sunny day in San Francisco.

After disembarking, I crossed to the sidewalk along Third St. heading to Auntie April's. This is not something I would do at night. The storefronts are bleak, two forlorn people sat on the sidewalk, their backs against a brick wall, literally. I walked past two healthy young males squatting near a corner storefront. Observing them, I found myself channeling 'don't even think about trying something'.  

Once inside Auntie April's, I relaxed. The waitress greeted me with a broad smile, she was warm and adorable. After bringing me a glass of unsweetened ice tea, I ordered the two piece fried chicken topping an original waffle. Yum. Made-to-order Heaven! 

A little old lady carrying a cane moved from one table to the window table near me. People who knew her waved as they walked by. April, April's Mother, and the waitress all checked on her. When she stood to leave, she turned to me and said "have a nice day". I thanked her and said "you too" and how much I liked her outfit, a cerulean blue sweatsuit like jacket and pants. 

Stuffed to the gills, I left the warmth of my Auntie April experience to walk over to the T line trolley stop. The sidewalks were clear except for a man holding a beverage can outside a corner store, maybe a bar. I walked past him with my hands on my hips, stretching my back and stood in this position while waiting for the streetlight to change. 

"Hey, Mama! Whatchu do'in standing all up with your hands on your hips?! "

I turned back laughing and walked towards him. "I'm stuffed, just left Auntie April's."

"You need to take a long walk then!"

"I am walking, right over to that T stop."

"I'm Johnny, nice to meet you", he smiled holding out his hand.

"I'm Nancy", smiling and shaking his hand

"You have a good day, now."

"You, too!"

Chinatown Y 4/26/15

Upon leaving full-time employment in mid January, I renewed my membership at the Chinatown YMCA just down the hill on Sacramento St.. Our Chinatown Y is lovely, the ground floor lobby proudly showcases the first Olympic sized saline swimming pool in the city. On the far back wall of the aquatic pool, a huge mural depicts people precious to the Chinatown Y's history. 

My welcome Wellness Consultant, Ken Johe was asked if he would like to be a part of the mural. Ken told me he was surprised and felt humbled to be a part. He beamed with pride while sharing that he began coming to the Chinatown Y as a young boy and how much it meant for him to be able to come here as a child. 

Today, Ken serves as a Board Member, works a full time day job and continues to give back to the local Y that helped shape the sweet young man he has become.  

Three Precious SF Moments 4/24/15

My Mother use to say that everything happens in Threes.

Out and about doing an errand on a breezy, cool, drought dry, and sun-filled day in San Francisco. Riding the #2 Clement St. bus on Sutter out of downtown, I came upon precious moment #1 looking out the window around the Larkin St. stop. As my day evolved, two more Precious Moments touched my heart.

Precious Moment #1: A man and best friend on her leash, a tiny black and white Chihuahua dressed  in an equally tiny hot pink warmer vest whose four paws were protected in teensy hot pink sneakers. A-dorable.

Precious Moment #2: For the second day in a row on the #2 Clement, I saw the same young girl riding the bus with a sweet yellow Lab service dog for the blind. Each day this mellow companion lay on the floor out of the aisle and under the seat by the girl's legs. I could not see if the Lab was a female or male, but on both days, this precious being made a point to find a comfortable position so it's snout lay on the girl's foot, wanting to feel her and be as close as possible to his companion. Once in a while, the young Lab raised up as if seeking affection, a pet or scratch behind the ear. I wondered if the girl was legally blind or helping to train the dog for someone else.

Precious Moment #3: A young Mother teaching her little girl how to roller skate in the wonderful little Sue Bierman Park located between Washington and Clay along The Embarcadero. The little girl appeared to be about four or five and was also dressed in a hot pink ensemble with matching hot pink and white durable plastic skates. I passed them on the sidewalk and as her Mom held her hand, I heard the little girl say, 'I want to to do it by myself’.

OK.

A few steps later, I turned around to see how going it alone went, Mom had walked over to put down a backpack on a park bench while the little girl bravely struggled to stand up again by herself after falling. Bless her heart.