I don't care about what the haters say on Yelp, this place is GOOD.
Fancy decor, delicious small plates, upscale atmosphere.
Thank you rich cousin!
I don't care about what the haters say on Yelp, this place is GOOD.
Fancy decor, delicious small plates, upscale atmosphere.
Thank you rich cousin!
I think I've posted about him before, but this segment on cell phone plans by Sean Cole is amazing! And Marketplace Money even posted the transcript so that you can study what makes it so great:
I’ve been reading about trash and this book delves in deep. I learned about the Italian mafia’s control over New York trash and the corporate mafia’s take over. I learned about big business’s reframing of waste so that it’s the public’s problem of littering or not recycling rather than their problem for creating wasteful packaging.
And I can’t wait to get through my books set aside for Hawaii:
The topic of busine s news in Asia will usually drive me to turn the dial, but this story on Marketplace struck many of my emotional chords.
The story opens with ambi of sports action as the narrator describes players in Cambodia's national sport, volleyball. Only after those images from my high school years come flashing back does the narrator reveal that all the men playing are disabled, missing arms and legs from landmines.
The league rehabilitates amputees, raises the profile of the landmine issue, and is a developing business.
Most of the cuts are oddly attributed to someone with an Australian voice, Chris Minko, the the league's secretary general. But we do get to hear from a player:
CHOW HOK: Playing and coaching volleyball is important to my health. It improves my mobility and strength. But it also brings in a regular income that goes towards supporting my family. It makes a big difference....
HOK: I love volleyball. The best part for me is the chance to travel, to meet other players. I used to be isolated, and now it's opened my world.
Volleyball was my drug of choice throughout my teen years. I loved racing after the ball, diving to make the save, and celebrating after each side out. An torn ligament in my knee during my senior year stopped me from continuing to play. But after hearing about these folks, I now feel like a wuss.
I saw the headlines: MISTRIAL. But I couldn't explain it to ya. All the printed reports were confusing. Something about countering his initial claim of understanding his job was to report for service.
But this radio report just cuts to the chase.
I'm glad the movement to support him grew, drawing lefty big wigs like Sean Penn out to his hearing. And I haven't heard race mentioned at all!
I've been working on a national show produced locally and I've helped find people to write commentaries for a number of different topics:
I'm learning how these segments contribute to the show:
Now that I think about it, they're kinda like audio blog posts. Maybe Nonogirl needs to think about adding commentaries to the upcoming podcast idea! Stay tuned.
You know your neighborhood is in trouble when you live in the Castro and the local leather store goes out of business!
Every morning, I'd see someone in Image Leather sipping his coffee and reading the paper. Every night I'd see someone cutting, sewing, or spiking leather. They were always there. But I never saw anyone in the store.
I went in one time to replace my punk rock bracelet. I found a skinny one with a ring of silver studs. I was happily surprised that it was the perfect length for my fairly skinny wrist. The person there replied, "Oh honey, that's not a bracelet. That's a cock ring!"
A couple days ago, I noticed 30-40% off signs and figured they were getting ready for a new season of bondage items. Instead, I found "thank you" and "goodbye" signs up the following day.
I don't know the story behind the stores closure. There IS a note that says you can call a number for repairs. But I fear what comes to take its place. Will it be another tanning salon? A chain home decorations store? Or a Starbucks? I dread finding out.
Last weekend, we celebrated my friend's birthday over a scrumptious brunch of homemade scones with orange butter, ricotta pancakes with rose water sauce, and deeply brewed coffee. My fellow Asian American arts friends and I noted that we were missing the protest, but continued to eat in decadence and relish the warmth of the crowded room.
Meanwhile, Andrea Hsu filed a short but sweet report on the protest in DC. I'm impressed with the diversity in clips (Code Pink, a youth who lost her father in Iraq, and Iraq Veterans Against the War) and her descriptive writing.
In listening to her piece, I'm surprised by how gripped with fear I am about an assignment like this. I mean, if people are out there protesting, they would probably welcome speaking to the media. Maybe the options are so endless, I worry about identifying the right people to speak to. These are fears I know I need to get over...
I'm slowly catching up on my Ironweek DVD collection; I stopped my subscription this month. Last night I saw the Boys of Baraka about a school takes 20 African American boys out of Baltimore and sends them for a two year education in Kenya. The goals are to place the boys in a new environment and prepare them for high school.
I saw a completely different side of Baltimore than the one that my friend comes from. She says that her parents, both doctors, live in a mansion. She went to a Quaker school rather than public school. And she knows someone who embarked on a gentrification project where he tried to get teams of people to go into impoverished neighborhoods and buy homes.
However, I was a little uncomfortable with what I was seeing. It felt a little like an outsider went in and pieced together the scenes to show the bleakest potential. It helped to read the production notes here.
The film ends rather abruptly when the school closes down because of political instability in the region. The parents are disappointed because they've the great strides their children made at the school. Then the film ends with a couple scenes updating us about the four main characters. I felt like if I blinked, I'd miss the ending and it also didn't offer much analysis.
My friend Bernice wrote this piece for the New York Times! It's a very vivid piece about personal belongings to a jazz great, Maxine Sullivan. Through the printed word, Bernice evokes smells, and sounds, touch, and memory.
Robynn Takayama is a community artist whose work has been presented through video, web, and gallery installation in San Francisco, Berkeley, Los Angeles, and Chicago.
A graduate of the KPFA First Voice Apprenticeship, she has contributed to national and local public radio programs and the Peabody-awarded documentary on Asian American history, Crossing East.
Robynn is a board member of the Association of Independents in Radio and served on the CPB-funded Makers Quest Talent Committee, charged with finding the most imaginative producers, reporters, and sound artists and urging them to take public radio beyond its traditional airwaves.
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