the pink chateau

I'm noticing after twenty-something postings that GreensandBrowns is finally beginning to develop an identity. From its inception, I made it a point to write about anything that I might want to remember (which is reason why it's of no interest to anyone else). For the most part, all of the posts I have strung together focus on a boy's adoration of San Francisco. I think this is the most rudimentary theme my words have going and sheds light on where I am in my life right now - a life with no pets, no wife, no kids, which affords me limited responsibility. 

That got me thinking.

Recently, I came to the realization that my three-plus years at The Pink Chateau (aka The Pink Palace) is the longest I've ever lived anywhere since I was in high school. In fact, every living situation in between was one year and out. What was always meant to be temporary has been one of the more stable facets of my young adult life and synonymous with my entire San Francisco experience.

The denizens of The Pink Chateau have discovered the occasional online pictorial of our pink abode; it's practically a landmark here in the Inner Sunset district. However, I was really surprised to discover this Yelp page. Every review either deems this apartment as a one star or five star. What does that mean? Thanks to the SEO efforts of the Yelp folks, this link is the first result in Google for "ugliest apartment in san francisco". Thanks very much, Yelp! (I still think Yelpers are generally idiots though).

I am looking at '09 as the year I graduate from this post-college frat house. My plan is to either move out during the year or at least have a concrete plan of my departure. It's a little premature to reminisce, but I am grateful for my experience here. 

I have learned quite a few things that I will keep in mind with any and all living arrangements/locations in the future:

• Washing my sheets should not be an annual "spring cleaning" event
• Buying more towels and unmentionables actually creates more laundry
• Mushrooms that grow on your carpet are not of the edible variety (or so I'm told)
• Sharing broadband bandwidth with a degenerate porn lover has an adverse affect on internet connectivity
• Some men have a naturally musky scent that overwhelms anti-odor eaters, permeates walls, induces spontaneous vomiting, causes property damage, etc.
• I am certain to miss the beauty of another man's nude figure

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double the fun

I have never been enamored with rainbows. But I'd never really seen one as brilliant as the one ML and I saw on a rare drive to work. 

I tried to darken the image to showcase the rainbow more but I really don't think it does it justice to what we actually saw. In my haste to capture this image, I didn't consider popping the window open, so this photo was taken from behind the windshield - you can see some raindrops on the right-hand corner. A shame, really.

We could see the entire arch from one end to the other, which is a first for me. On the left side of the arch, the bow illuminated a housing development in a magnificent array of colors. We noticed the faint second rainbow but didn't discover that the colors were actually reversed until we uploaded the photo. 

Knowledge Drop: This optical phenomenon is caused by a double reflection of sunlight in the raindrops  (I wiki'd it). It occurs every 4,000 years or so (approximate). The same wiki entry explains that some rainbow enthusiasts have witnessed tertiary and quaternary bows. These people are liars.

I have been staring at this screen for about ten minutes, not exactly sure how to conclude this post. Thus, per usual...

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better than this - mark titus

I have done some environmental scanning of the type of online content that you, the reader, may be viewing as an alternative to the microseconds of entertainment that I provide once or twice a week. After an initial audit, I must concede that GreensandBrowns is utterly boring and is void of any utility.

Will I cry about it? A little. Will I quit? No way, it's much too fun, and it would be disappointing to all of the reader. 

I evolve. I'll try to offer some semblance of value here by sharing humorous content that I come across. The lone criterion to appear in this section is for me to wish that I had created said content myself. (Sidebar to prove my point: John Lennon was envious of Paul McCartney's beautiful "Oh! Darling". He tried in vain to sing on the track but that arrangement, available on the 3rd Anthology album, was eventually canned, and he later claimed that he would have been better suited for the song. I love Lennon but c'mon). Thus, I'd rather not sulk about G&B's limitations.

On that note, here is my first offering: Club Trillion (for basketball lovers)

This guy is a bench warmer on Ohio State's basketball team and only recently began to pen his experiences in that role. In this short time, he has been recognized nationally, and even appeared on a Bill Simmons (I really need to stop mentioning The Sports Guy) podcast for his irreverence and talent with the written word. To be funny out loud is one thing. To master comedy through vocabulary and syntax is something entirely different and in my opinion, incredibly difficult. On top of that, this dude is like 21 or 22. I spent a solid couple of hours at work yesterday reading every single post (there aren't that many as of yet) and combating fits of laughter.

And you will chuckle too when you discover what Club Trillion is - an ingenious statistic conceived by he and his buddies. It could have only been devised by a gang of college kids with too much time on their hands. I applaud you, Mark Titus. 

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michael mina - san francisco (union square)

As soon as I reached the 10,000 point plateau in my Open Table account, I cashed out for the $100 gift check and made reservations for Michael Mina. Michael Mina was unsurprisingly a great dining experience and fully justified in its perpetual recognition as a hallmark of San Francisco cuisine. I allowed all of the indelible flavors to fully digest but was still having difficulty articulating it late last week. I turned to ML for a little help.

GreensandBrowns: would you like to write a few words about michael mina?

that would be beneficial for both of us

a draft by end of day will be terrific thank you

ML: a draft?

please...

i don't do drafts for you

GreensandBrowns: ok final copy

ML: you get no editing rights whatsoever

GreensandBrowns: ok i agree

This instantly reminded me of an old Sports Guy (aka Bill Simmons) feature in which he convinced his wife to offer weekly football picks to supplement his own. She agreed once the Sports Guy agreed to the following term (link to article here):

"When I offered her a chance to pick games every week, she begrudgingly accepted under one condition: Along with her picks, she gets one paragraph to rant about something each week. And I can't edit it. In fact, nobody can edit it."

We tend to find parallels with our heroes but this isn't really about that. There seems to be some consistencies among successful relationships. I digress...

Unfortunately, ML's golden words have yet to arrive, and GreensandBrowns cannot wait any longer for her coveted prose. Let's look forward to a future post in which ML can share insights such as this one about a recent trip to Namu in San Francisco.

Back to Michael Mina...the flavors are delicious, at times stunning with a terrific balance of delicate and comforting. The food is rich, at times so decadent that more than a couple of bites can lose its initial impact. That's not any disparaging remark about the food. It's more a reflection of how pleasantly jarring the first bite of each component is. Additionally, establishments like this make photography fun. Much to ML's chagrin, I really enjoy gathering digital prints of these edible art pieces.

Michael Mina is excellent and is probably the best dining experience I've ever had (I've decided that it's impossible to rank this kind of thing objectively as I've always mistakenly tried to do. Case and point, I'm probably most content with a hearty bowl of Shin ramen. On a cold day, nothing can beat this). I will say though that any fair assessment requires placing Michael Mina in its proper context, juxtaposed to its peers. I haven't been to enough places of this caliber to offer any kind of serviceable comparison at this point.

Lastly, I realize that all of our gastronomical adventures are actually a means rather than an end in itself. Dining at Michael Mina allowed me to mentally check off this establishment as we continue to climb up the epicurean mountain toward the pinnacle. Every new flavor we try, every innovative technique we are exposed to, is all in preparation for that seminal moment. This blog might as well be called, "PJS' journey to The French Laundry".

So, yeah. Michael Mina. Great.

Lobster Pot Pie: put this in your mouth

Favorite: Poached pork belly with quail egg

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hunting in the pacific ocean

Thanksgiving weekend, a few buddies and I went on a deep sea fishing excursion for Laser's 26th birthday. The trip didn't sound very appealing, but we all obliged since Laser rarely requests anything on his special day. I channeled my hunter/gatherer instincts and directed all of my energy into providing sustenance for our females - barefooted and waiting patiently in the kitchen to prepare a king's feast with our bounty. Laser didn’t grasp this chauvinistic opportunity and chose to bring Laser Girl along. 

I offer a Bill Simmons-esque time journal of the day's highlights:

Captain’s log: 5:50am

Federal Investigation, Wonq, and I are the first ones to arrive, followed by all others with plenty of time to board the ship. I am impressed by everyone’s promptness. Most of us are bundled up as if our final destination is a snow capped mountain peak. Well, all of us except for Laser Girl. She is wearing – a thin hoodie and sweat pants that cut off at the ankles. I am astonished by this. At the very least, I will witness perhaps the worst date in the history of mankind.

Captain’s log: 6:35am

We set sail. Besides the captain and his two crew members (Coop and Joey), there are roughly 15 additional passengers, several of whom have previously partaken in these sea escapades. The crisp ocean breeze cuts through our morning grogginess. The boat motor roars vociferously and is distracting at first, but quickly becomes a rhythmic backdrop to the boat's rocking motion. 

On the bathroom door, there is a sign that reads, "Do not throw up in the bathroom". I gladly accept the motion sickness pills Laser distributes.

Captain’s log: 7:30am

We travel under the Golden Gate Bridge and are headed 40 miles west of it. How long will that take? I long for a calm afternoon on a lake, catching fish under a warm, sun-drenched sky, a memorable afternoon spent counseling each other through our twenty-something angst. Maybe next time. Riding under the bridge is very neat; I have never seen it from that perspective before. There is a magnificence to the Golden Gate bridge that I have never been able to appreciate until now. 

A humorous development is unfolding; Laser Girl appears to be sick (much like several others in our party). Laser mentally prepares for a long day.

Captain’s log 8:45am

Where are we? I miss ML. I miss my family. If we died here, nobody would know it. I am having an internal panic attack. I do not show it, however, and continue to smile and feign immense enjoyment of our adventure. Both Laser and Laser Girl are flushed in the face and sick. She is no longer speaking with any of us, concentrating on keeping her breakfast in her stomach. I feel sorry for her. Laser informs me she refused to take motion sickness pills. My sympathy vanishes.

Captain’s log 9:20am

Along the way, we circle pre-set crab traps, the contents of which will be distributed among the passengers. The crew gathers about 25 or so. They throw back any that do not meet size standards. What must a crab be thinking while it slowly sinks back to the bottom of the ocean floor? They are stupid and deserve a fateful end in my stomach.

Captain’s log 10:30am

The motor ceases and the boat settles. The sun slowly pierces the morning haze. We are instructed to cast our fishing poles. There are not enough for our entire group so I watch my mates cast their lines. As soon as they go in, pretty much everyone gets a bite. We have come across a school of mackerel and everyone is reeling them in. Linn-Duh catches one, but it’s not even caught in one of the hooks. The fish had just merely caught itself in Linn-Duh's tangled line. All we are doing is dropping our lines into the water where schools of fish are innocently swimming by. It's almost as if we are smacking them in the face with our bait. This is not fair and a bit boring.

More people are sick. I turn to watch my buddy Wonq cast his line. While doing so, he spews into the water. He pretends as though nothing has happened and continues on with his business. Coop grabs a hose and washes his vomit towards me. This is gross. 

Our casted lines are so close to the boat that you have to look down to reel in your line. This is not good for my stomach. I feel nauseous and lie down and fall asleep. 

Captain’s log 11:30am 

I wake up to a warm sun. Everyone seems to be having some success with their catch. Rock fish are flapping on the boat, waiting to be stuffed into the burlap sack the crew has provided for us. 

I have also missed watching the majority of our party yuke into the ocean. They have forever changed the Pacific Ocean’s eco-system. I am proud of my friends.

Coop sets me up with my own pole, and I quickly catch two rock fish on one line. The constant motion of the boat is making me sick again. I go back to sleep.

Dancer-for-Money proudly announces that he threw up into a fish’s mouth while Wonq reeled it in. This is gross. I imagine what it might be like to be that fish. Criminals don't deserve such a cruel fate. Or do they? It seems like it would be an interesting interrogation tactic to yack into a suspect's mouth.

Captain’s log 1:30pm

The worst date ever continues to unfold nicely. Laser Girl has been unconscious for at least three hours. In fact, she has not moved. I surmise that she has stopped breathing. I share this grave news with Laser. He scratches himself and eats a Doritos chip (in that order).

It is about time to head back but the kind-hearted captain informs us that they will be extending our fishing time for a bit longer. This is like telling a prisoner that shower time has been extended. I am not sure whether I should cry or go back to sleep. I do neither. I sit and think about how long it will take to get home.

Captain’s log 2:45pm

We are slowly headed back to Berkeley Marina. However, we have been circling the waters to wrangle up all of the crab traps the crew had set along the way. I sit inside with some of the sick. We eat, sleep, and commiserate. Laser's master plan has come together; we are galvanized through shared misery. Laser Girl rises from the dead.

Captain’s log 6:00pm

We are back in Berkeley Marina. It’s just as dark as it was when we left.

...........

We arrived home and murdered over 20 crabs. Some put up a fight. I won. 

Fish were pan-fried and oven baked (most are vacuumed sealed in the freezer and will never be seen again). Linn-Duh did a great job of filleting the pieces. The mackerel was extremely tasteful, and I thought it was better than the cod. ML (not barefoot) executed Shindokdo’s famous mae-uhn-tang, a spicey Korean fish stew consisting primarily of radish and tofu.  We augmented the stew by adding one of the steamed crabs, melding the stew with the subtle sweetness from the crab. 

It was delicious and a warm, comforting highlight to a grueling 16 hours. 

Notes: Laser Girl was unavailable for dinner...Dr. Phil never touched a fishing pole

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an ode to my words

Dear Thanksgiving 2008,

I forgot to reflect last week on all of the things that I'm thankful for. Here are some things that I am thankful for:

• The Dark Knight
• Pandora Radio rekindling my obsessive relationship with The Beatles. Although getting a ton of Rolling Stones tracks is weak
• Google Chrome shaving microseconds with each web page load. All of that time adds up
• 49ers fire Mike Nolan
• My insistence on liking lamb (success!)
• The Dark Knight

Also, I am thankful for this blog. 

It allows me to dump all of my creative impulses and acknowledge that they shouldn't be shared beyond this medium. This is a great thing. There have been too many instances over the years in which my verbal words have lacked thought and consideration. Written words are premeditated; I mean everything I write. And as the volume of my postings continue to increase, I trust that I will have said something meaningful somewhere along the line. If I don't, well, at least I didn't say it out loud.

So, Mr. GreensandBrowns, you have been good to me in the first two months of our courtship. As the work week drew to a close today, I could think of no other way to commemorate it than to come home and write.

That is all.

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congratulations, sister shins

I give myself a much deserved pat on the back for completing a 10 week course at UC Berkeley Extension (Essentials of Marketing) this past Tuesday. This impressive feat was only bettered by the academic accomplishments of the Shin sisters in recent weeks.

Carolyn Shin

Big props to Carolyn Shin for completing her University of California application. You can find her reaction to finishing the task here. I completed the same task exactly ten years ago but I can't remember the process at all. Her entire application process was online; I recall signing up for Freshman year classes over the phone. The hard part is over, little sister. Now, let's watch the acceptance letters roll in. I will miss you more than you know.

Susan Shin, J.D., Esq.

Kudos to Susan Shin for passing the California Bar exam. Here's the most impressive part - during the preparation period, there were no emotional outbursts, not a single tear. Nice work sister Susan for internalizing the crazy. Please buy me something.

Congrats, ladies.

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not you too, banana republic

Oh man, it's been too long since my last post! Get ready for an onslaught of ill-conceived thoughts and forgettable anecdotes over the next couple of days.

Yesterday, I went to Banana Republic and found a beautiful pair of jeans in a perfectly stained blue hue with just the right amount of fading. I fell in love. Upon putting them on however, I discovered first hand that BR has caved into the currently disturbing fashion trend of men's tapered denim. Eck, I will never adopt this look.

Mark my words; late 2000s fashion will not be remembered fondly in five years. 

Terrible.

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