Thursday, February 6, 2014

From the Performance Stories: What Edits Would You Have Made?

Though she faced patrons sitting in the weak sunlight just before noon, she was immersed in typing something on her iPhone, one letter at a time, as most people born before the so-called millennial generation tend to do.

He stretched out his long bony arms, and held the towering glass doors open wide for those entering the building, looking to dine on the sky terrace. As the guests entered, the doors swished delicately back in place as he let go after pausing for one, two, three seconds. The gesture was genuine, as was the warm, toothy smile he offered to each entrant. Some passerbys were colder, however. Seeing his actions as a nuisance, many ignored the man. Upon entering the building they hung their heads low, keeping eye contact with the floor, and the floor only.

Families, runners, dog walkers, lovers, and children filled the meadows of Golden Gate Park this weekend.  On a wooden bench a little off the beaten path in a thicket of trees and bushes, an old woman sat feeding pigeons.

He tires after a series of high-spun twirls around a giant silver speaker and collapses onto the park bench next to mine. We make silent acknowledgement of each other’s existence, quickly busy our eyes on random anything’s to avoid further contact. He rests with his red-laced skates still tightly bound to his feet, perhaps indicating an encore performance… The old timer disappears behind a series of trees, leaving behind his R2D2 speaker and his stage open to fellow roller skaters. He rolls back to his bench only to disappear again behind the foliage. I spot the top of his head peer out at me and watch it quickly vanish a number of times.

I considered myself well researched in dog breeds after doing extensive research before I adopted my own dog in 2007.  I watched this dog show with an uneducated, naive sense of confidence.

No matter the size of the line or the number of orders she already has, she never seems to change the speed at which she does her work. In the middle of making one sandwich she stops, possibly because she has done something wrong.

Probably this woman was determined to reach a certain goal; maybe she wants to be healthy. She was working out with her music, possibly music helps her relax. She was there with her friends, laughing and pointing at some men around her. Possibly she was trying to impress someone at the gym. During her workout her face was turning red and was sweating easily, she seemed a little ambitious and angry; she was touching the sides of her body as if she was pudgy.

This is how he spends the next hour, leafing through his notebook at a pace that shows it is unlikely he is actually reading it. Before he gets up to leave, he makes a phone call to someone to whom he says he has been “working through life,” and then sternly says, “love you” before hanging up. After he walked down the street, the wind blew the notebook he seemingly left behind off the table.

Calm and composed, a Hispanic man wearing a yellow safety vest watches a batch of oozing cement spread into a long crevice in the ground. This occurs during a foggy afternoon on Balboa Street between 34th and 35th Avenues.

She's an older woman, likely over 70, with a hunchback and a bald spot the size of a fist. Her withering-away-dyed-red hair forms her head like a frizzy headband. I've seen her many times on campus, and even entertained her during a spout of babbling.

Performances like this, is what makes San Francisco entertaining and exciting. If anything this talented street performer, in the eyes of this reporter, takes the cake and the living room table with his musical talent.

A politician is often conscious of their outward appearance. A student politician is learning to be conscious of their outward appearance. The student senator is mindful of how he moves and speaks, but sometimes you can still catch him chewing on the tip of his pen.

The native San Franciscan or University of San Francisco student can grab a cup of coffee and pastry at the Mill located on Divis and Fulton.


No comments: