Jon
10-15-2007, 05:27 PM
The air was electric. The excitement was palatable. And just why oh why was that young fellow yelling something about Cal?
It happened at Town, the restaurant in the heart of the sleepy and pleasant city of San Carlos, where the wife and I decided we would plunk down some hard-earned cash to raise our cholesterol a bit and take in some good eats. I take mine medium rare.
I thought the Art and Wine Festival might still be going on, so we headed in from B-Game a bit early to take in the sights and sounds. Too late. Most of the hard-working shopkeepers were boarding up their wares and we decided to hit the Town bar before our table was ready. A Town Martini awaited.
And lo and behold, Town can shift from a trendy wait-around sort-of-boring oak-riddled place to a sports bar hot-bed of happening in a hurry. All it takes is one serious come-from-behind win from a lowly-ranked Pac-10 team over the (what really?) number one team in the country. USC?
The Ketel One must have been speaking tales.
My sight is dimishing at the tender age of 35 and I thought my worn-out eyes were kidding me when I saw the 17-23 score. It couldn’t be real. After all, the Trojans had a 41-point spread. But my failing eyes saw the catch, the extra point and the interception (thank goodness the boy had the sense to lay down before he lost it). And there, that was it. Stanford beat the all-mighty USC. Pete Carroll, who could be mayor of Los Angeles just from his win-loss record alone, stood looking like he ate a sandwich of hot ash and turpentine from a truck stop vending machine and there, over the shoulder, was the guy shouting about Cal.
I gave the obligatory high-five and shout, then needed to make the inquiry. Why speak of Cal? Why now? I’m no college football fan. I try not to be even a professional football fan so I can spend some time with my better half in the fall once the Giants stumble into obscurity. But I needed to know.
“What’s up with Cal?”
It was another example of the Bay Area helping each other out.
The Cardinal helped Cal move up the rankings by beating big bad USC and by the time it was all over, our table was ready and Town went back to its same old self. But it’s good to know there’s some classy places on the Peninsula that can rally a good frenzy when the time is good and right.
And though I tend to despise Stanford, I felt great for the team and its coach and quarterback — who had looks on their faces you couldn’t buy for a thousand Town Martinis.
***
That slamming sound you heard at the Burlingame City Council candidates forum last Tuesday was the jaws of the audience hitting the floor upon hearing candidate Peter Camaroto say he didn’t start recycling until two months ago and only after his son asked why the family didn’t do it.
Councilman Russ Cohen wanted to respond, but held his tongue.
***
The San Francisco Peninsula Press Club held a high school journalism workshop Friday and as secretary of the board, I felt obliged to help out. Leading a workshop on motivating a staff, I found out there is a big difference in a class and a club. The difference is clear — the class gives a grade. And writers who get a grade turn their stories in on time. Clubs not so much.
I got into high school journalism to get the hall pass and make a difference. I got the grade too. It’s too bad that many schools let the journalism program slip to the point that some philanthropic soul must revive it.
Journalists get a bad rap these days since too often, our culture thinks of us as parasites or opportunists because the TV news and other shows paint us that way. All-around sad.
But we the ink-stained keep the power-charged women and gents in line. We watch their ways and keep up on how they sign the checks. We empower those without power and tell the story of your community. I like to think it’s a somewhat honest trade, one we should encourage.
Schools should too.
Jon Mays is the editor in chief of the Daily Journal. He can be reached at jon@smdailyjournal.com.
It happened at Town, the restaurant in the heart of the sleepy and pleasant city of San Carlos, where the wife and I decided we would plunk down some hard-earned cash to raise our cholesterol a bit and take in some good eats. I take mine medium rare.
I thought the Art and Wine Festival might still be going on, so we headed in from B-Game a bit early to take in the sights and sounds. Too late. Most of the hard-working shopkeepers were boarding up their wares and we decided to hit the Town bar before our table was ready. A Town Martini awaited.
And lo and behold, Town can shift from a trendy wait-around sort-of-boring oak-riddled place to a sports bar hot-bed of happening in a hurry. All it takes is one serious come-from-behind win from a lowly-ranked Pac-10 team over the (what really?) number one team in the country. USC?
The Ketel One must have been speaking tales.
My sight is dimishing at the tender age of 35 and I thought my worn-out eyes were kidding me when I saw the 17-23 score. It couldn’t be real. After all, the Trojans had a 41-point spread. But my failing eyes saw the catch, the extra point and the interception (thank goodness the boy had the sense to lay down before he lost it). And there, that was it. Stanford beat the all-mighty USC. Pete Carroll, who could be mayor of Los Angeles just from his win-loss record alone, stood looking like he ate a sandwich of hot ash and turpentine from a truck stop vending machine and there, over the shoulder, was the guy shouting about Cal.
I gave the obligatory high-five and shout, then needed to make the inquiry. Why speak of Cal? Why now? I’m no college football fan. I try not to be even a professional football fan so I can spend some time with my better half in the fall once the Giants stumble into obscurity. But I needed to know.
“What’s up with Cal?”
It was another example of the Bay Area helping each other out.
The Cardinal helped Cal move up the rankings by beating big bad USC and by the time it was all over, our table was ready and Town went back to its same old self. But it’s good to know there’s some classy places on the Peninsula that can rally a good frenzy when the time is good and right.
And though I tend to despise Stanford, I felt great for the team and its coach and quarterback — who had looks on their faces you couldn’t buy for a thousand Town Martinis.
***
That slamming sound you heard at the Burlingame City Council candidates forum last Tuesday was the jaws of the audience hitting the floor upon hearing candidate Peter Camaroto say he didn’t start recycling until two months ago and only after his son asked why the family didn’t do it.
Councilman Russ Cohen wanted to respond, but held his tongue.
***
The San Francisco Peninsula Press Club held a high school journalism workshop Friday and as secretary of the board, I felt obliged to help out. Leading a workshop on motivating a staff, I found out there is a big difference in a class and a club. The difference is clear — the class gives a grade. And writers who get a grade turn their stories in on time. Clubs not so much.
I got into high school journalism to get the hall pass and make a difference. I got the grade too. It’s too bad that many schools let the journalism program slip to the point that some philanthropic soul must revive it.
Journalists get a bad rap these days since too often, our culture thinks of us as parasites or opportunists because the TV news and other shows paint us that way. All-around sad.
But we the ink-stained keep the power-charged women and gents in line. We watch their ways and keep up on how they sign the checks. We empower those without power and tell the story of your community. I like to think it’s a somewhat honest trade, one we should encourage.
Schools should too.
Jon Mays is the editor in chief of the Daily Journal. He can be reached at jon@smdailyjournal.com.