My Dear, Dedicated Readers,

I didn't think this sort of thing would happen so soon. Sure, my blog is captivating, rich, entertaining, and inspirational, but I had no idea you were so galvanized by such simple prose.

This post is directed at the most active amongst you (you know who you are). I have a simple message: violence is not the answer!

In an earlier post, I put a particular ad campaign on blast for it's egregious lack of grammatical integrity. Although I was certainly heated, dismayed, and upset, I by no means authorized or encouraged violent reaction.

Walking down Montgomery Street the other day, I was appalled to see that my words had been used to justify an act of violence (see photo)

I'd like to extend a heartfelt apology to this poor, defenseless poster - my heart and thoughts are with it and its entire family.

To the dear, misguided readers responsible, I ask that you pray for this poster and its speedy recovery.  I also ask that you take a look at your actions, and ask yourself if you really acted in the best interest of our cause.  Sure, this poster displayed a lack of compliance with well-defined tenets of grammatical integrity, but I remind you that ours is not the role of enforcer!  Violent action such as this does more to harm than help our cause.

It is only by exemplifying the statutes of grammar and cleverness that we so cherish that we shall prevail.  In the words of Edward Bulwer-Lytton, "the pen is mightier than the sword".

So, dear readers, please take these words to heart, and go forth with renewed commitment to properly placed apostrophes, appropriate metaphors, and habitual proof-reading.  Let's lead by example.

The Pannier Scare

I nearly lost my pannier (pan-yer) the other day. It was a scary moment -the realization, upon returning home, that my pretty yellow bag was not with me, and that it was lying all alone, exposed on the side of the road, with the pungent smell of leftover Thai food emanating from its unbuttoned maw.

I'd lost it in the shuffle of transferring myself from bicycle to automobile. First I had to remove the pannier from my bike, then extract the bike rack from the trunk and affix it to the back of the Honda. Then the phone rang, and the remaining maneuvers were conducted with my head cocked awkwardly to the left - set the bike on the rack, then frantically search for my car keys. For once, I hadn't neurotically double-checked my pants for my keys before closing the trunk. This left open the possibility that I had indeed locked the

keys in the trunk. All of this was relayed to my friend on the phone, until finally, upon the forth deep dig into my satchel, I triumphantly produced my keys. So excited was I by the reassurance that I'm not a complete space cadet, I completely neglected (as would a space cadet) to stow my pannier, and off I drove to the Sunset, leaving my poor bag to fend for itself. Miraculously, upon returning an hour later, the bag was still there, Thai food and all, and the rest of my night was so much better because of it.

The moral of the story: take your damn time.

If you'd like to speak to a friend on the phone, relax and enjoy the conversation until it's done.

I probably would've been there all of 3 minutes extra had I saved my luggage rearrangement for

after the call. Walking down to Java Beach this morning, I realized that I was hurrying - at 8:15 am on a holiday morning - to sit down and write this post. I slowed down to a stroll, and immediately felt my body relax and a little shudder of relaxation run up my spine. I thoroughly enjoyed the remainder of my walk, even stopping to snap a couple of photos.

You've heard this before, but life's too short to be in a hurry. You've also heard this before: enjoy the moment - every single one of 'em.

Why Supercuts is better than a salon school

I just got a hair cut from Supercuts (Actually, I got most of my hairs cut...), after about 5 consecutive cuts at the Cinta Aveda Fashion Institute. The verdict? Not a bad haircut (see photo). Supercuts is faster, cheaper, and they follow you on Twitter. Which is great but also a little bit strange. Who's job is that? Collecting names from Supercuts sign-in sheets, then poring through Twitter for people to follow. Do they really expect me to follow them back? To get info on the most recent events at Supercuts? Like, cheap haircuts? Or.... cheap haircuts? Plz. I'd hate to be the social media czar for Supercuts. But I digress. I'd like to commend the Supercuts on Battery St. on their excellent, rapid service. In and out in 20 minutes, an entertaining conversation with my... stylist(?), and a standard $20 fee.


And now to bash the Cinta Aveda school. Or "institute" as they call themselves. I got turned on to this place by my sister Lucy, who had just moved to SF and was elated with the quality service and low cost offered by Cinta - a salon school where you get your hair cut by students for cheap. On my first visit I was impressed by the urban loft setting, the greeter taking my coat and offering coffee or tea, and the aromatherapy head massage. It all seemed very high-class, and I felt like something of a big shot. I was visiting SF and had no engagements or employment to speak of, so I hardly noticed that I was there for nearly 2 hours. The price was right too - $20 for a cut. In January I started work at vFlyer, and went for a cut on my lunch break. One should be able to fit a hair cut into a lunch break, right? Not so fast...


The following is a long-winded narration of my haircut experience at Cinta. Feel free to skip to the exciting conclusion.

Ride the elevator up to the second floor, meet your student, and sit down in front of the mirror. First, your student stylist listens to what you want, and develops their strategy. Then they must wait for the teacher. This could last anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes. The teacher arrives, the student says "he wants an inch taken off everywhere...", the teacher says "OK", and it's on to the shampoo. I really don't understand why they need to wash your hair before they cut it, but there's another 10 minutes spent getting a half cup of shampoo worked through your hair, followed by a half-cup of conditioner. Back to the chair where the cut finally begins. They start with the side of your head, and work their way around the back and up the other side. This is the "hard part", and can take anywhere from 20 to 30 minutes. By this time our conversation has pretty much died completely. We've discovered where we live, where we're from, what I do, and if the stylist prefers cutting men's hair or women's. I'm struggling to stay awake, and thinking I've been here way too long. Finally they move to the top, and using the renowned "point cutting" technique (basically angling the scissors straight up so as to cut tiny bits of your hair at acute angles), the top of my head is worked down. This takes another 10-15 minutes. Then it's time for the mid-term consultation. The student must go and solicit the attention of the teacher, both return and the instructor takes up position behind my head and asks how it's going. I get a brief moment of experienced head-handling, maybe a comment on the thickness of my hair, and the reigns are returned to the student to brush up on a few things - usually the cowlick or the temples region. This is a 5 minute procedure, followed by a 10 minute closing clean-up. I'd like to share a specific anecdote here - near the end of my first Cinta experience, my stylist trimmed my sideburns. Naturally, she wanted to be sure they were nice and even. She trimmed one, then, to determine the proper length of the other, she actually DREW AN IMAGINARY LINE from one sideburn ACROSS THE FRONT OF MY FACE to the other, and made a trim. Looking into the mirror ahead, I could see a clear 1/4 inch discrepancy between the two burns, but I decided to let it slide... Believe it or not, this student was less than a month from graduating. After the clean-up comes the worst wait yet - before I can leave, an instructor needs to give a final review, and there is usually about 1 instructor per 15 students-giving-haircuts. This can take anywhere from 5-15 minutes. Sitting, waiting, watching. The instructor is usually deep in a customer interaction, giving a detailed lesson to one of her students while the haircutee nods along approvingly. She ignores her anxiously waiting students with practiced ease, as they cast apologetic glances back at me and inch closer, sign-off sheet at the ready. Once the instructor signs, I can sign, and me and my student stylist and I can take an awkward elevator ride together down to the ground floor. They pick out the product used in my hair, put it in a little pink wire basket, and pause during the goodbye to make just enough room for my cash tip. I usually tipped - more out of care for the student than satisfaction with my cut. I decline to purchase the product, pay the cashier, and I'm gone, booking it back to the office and wondering how I'll explain my 2 hour absence.


In conclusion, the idea of the Cinta school is great - salon experience at bargain prices, but the experience of thy stylist is paramount. I don't care that my supercutter doesn't speak very good English, or that her glasses are horribly out of style, because she's been cutting hair for 20 years, and she's darn good at it. Maybe if I need an aromatherapy head massage and some grey taken out, I'll return to Cinta, but until then (or until I get an awful haircut), I'm throwing my lot in with Supercuts. And yes, I now follow @Supercuts