I rented a Chrysler. For some reason it seemed to fit. My official work here is a subject of some personal reflection, so I chose to start with appropriate transit. This would be a trip of perpetual dusk.

Any good theme needs to be extended. So, the hotel of choice was one that was once owned by silent-film star Lillian Gish. My room is an extravagant and somewhat nauseating pastiche of pink. Striped pink wallpaper. Pink paint, applied all too recently. Pink pillows. Thankfully the bed is white and the windows are operable.

Dinner was a natural. A short walk and a cigarette away. An incongruously expensive Italian joint that caters to Hollywood’s wealthy elderly: La Dolce Vita. Ironically named for a Fellini film about emotionally vacant jet setters. The film also has the unlikely distinction of having added the word “paparazzi” to the universal lexicon. I sat at the bar.

There were only two of us sitting there to dine. I left an extra seat as a buffer and ordered a glass of Chianti. A few pregnant moments later, I added a chopped salad and a filet mignon. If one is to presume a theme, it must be extended to natural endpoints. The bartender was perfectly platinum. Her name was Kira. I looked over at my dining companion. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Forrest Whitaker. “Ghost Dog” Forrest Whittaker. We nodded. He was about to finish a thought that had started before my arrival.

“There’s a lot of people who work in security who don’t really know what they’re doing,” he said. “They aren’t much use.”

He was talking to Kira, but I didn’t care. “You working now?” I asked.

“Yes I am.”

“It sounds like rough work if you’re serious,” I said. “The party’s over by the time you get to enjoy anything.”

“It is,” he said. “Actually,” he turned back to Kira, “You have any good wine recommendations. For later? Something I can have at the house? You know, that I can pick up at the store.” After a waiter was summoned, he settled on a bottle of Hess Select Cabernet. To be procured later.

“Who are you working for,” I asked.

“Phil Spector,” he said. (more…)

Friends of Fear the Beard stretch far and wide. So it is with pleasure that esteemed colleague and former resident of the Bay Area and greater California, Ms. Buzzy Jackson, is introduced as a new voice. Author of a critically acclaimed history of women and the blues, she submits the following entry in an ongoing series that examines California through the sometimes opaque lens of distance. Ladies and gents, Ms. Buzzy Jackson.

***

Dear California:

I miss you. Not just your beauty spots: Point Reyes, the redwoods, Zuma Beach. No, I miss the awkward bits, too: the Bay Bridge, Little Santa Monica Boulevard, the Nut Tree. I’ve lived in the Southland (greater Los Angeles) and I’ve lived in the North (the even greater Bay Area) and I grew up in your inner eastern elbow (Truckee, period.). The only part of you I’ve yet to pay rent in is your True North — everything above Santa Rosa. Though I did spend a fantastic week in Elk (Mendocino County) once. I hope to sign a lease somewhere up there one day.

In the meantime, I reside in suburban Colorado. I’m not too proud to admit it. Actually, I hear admitting it is half the battle. But I’m not going to dwell on this. The point of these Letters from Exile is to extol your virtues. Here goes.

A few weeks ago, a friend in San Francisco mentioned that just that day she’d seen a buck-naked dude strolling down the street, and not your average, you know, Berkeley Naked Guy type, but “a hot, buff, tanned naked guy, wearing cool sneakers.” Now that’s the kind of thing you don’t typically experience here on the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Another thing you don’t typically experience: “Enviro-aesthetics.” Well, you might, but you probably wouldn’t know that it was called by that name. In the Bay Area, you can not only experience Enviro-aesthetics, you can take the bus tour! Seriously, check out BARGE, the Bay Area Research Group in Enviro-aesthetics (now you see why the “aesthetics” is lower case) and their new project, Buried Treasure Island. This “multi-platform investigation” is, let’s face it, probably the closest you’ll ever get to actually stopping at Treasure Island as you whiz past en route to Oakland or San Francisco. What is Treasure Island? Is there actually, like, treasure there? Is it the Bay Area’s own Area 51? Or is it just a glorified offramp? BARGE offers audio tours, podcasts, an original soundtrack and, yes, Virginia, a real bus tour! No, there’s nothing quite so multi-platform going on in my current ‘hood.

So why won’t you see me on the bus? Because I, dear friends (to paraphrase John McCain) will be in Truckee on October 11th, attending my very own high school reunion. Rumor has it another FTB contributor will also be in attendance. It’s up to you to get on the bus (to paraphrase Spike Lee) and let us know what treasure awaits.

Yours,

Coping in Colorado, Buzzy Jackson

With reports out of Phoenix indicating that Matt Barnes is close to an agreement with the Phoenix Suns, female season ticket holders are planning an impromptu protest at the team practice facility in Downtown Oakland tomorrow. Details are scarce at this late hour, but when reached for comment, a representative of Women In Powerful Praise of Energetic Defense (WIPPED) identified only as Lil’ Dub Fan, responded as follows.

Oh hell no. First Boom and now this? And Azubuike too? They don’t know who they’re messin’ with. I ain’t paying $2,500 a year to see who they got left. Somebody needs to get Rick Fox out of retirement or something.

This, in response to a report from the Arizona Republic that all but indicates that the be-tatted heartthrob is headed to the Valley of the Sun.

Free-agent forward Matt Barnes is scheduled to arrive in Phoenix Monday, expecting to sign a one-year veteran’s minimum deal with the Suns after completing a physical.

Barnes, 28, spent the past two seasons in a mostly reserve role with the Golden State Warriors. He collected a career-best 9.8 points and 4.6 rebounds in the 2006-07 season. Last season, he averaged 6.7 points and 4.4 rebounds in 19.4 minutes per game.

General Manager Steve Kerr and coach Terry Porter talked with Barnes by phone last week from Las Vegas, where the Suns were in NBA Summer League action. The team likes his shooting touch, ball-handling and big-game experience.

In his seventh NBA season, Barnes is expected to make $1.2 million, but the Suns will pay only $797,000. The rest will come from a league fund.

That giant sighing sound? Well, let’s just say that next year you gentlemen out there just got 50% more likely to be enjoying the game alone.

Turman

Newest Warrior, Ronny Turiaf, is set to at least partially fill the massive void in Warrior bearditude since the departure of Baron Davis. It is also clear from this photo taken during his stellar four-year career as a ‘Zag, that Turiaf is capable of putting up Ben Wallace-like numbers in the ‘fro department. For me at least, his patented chest-thumping after a made putback will just seem more, well, intimidating if paired with the coiffure seen above. The Beard he is not. But he is energetic, active, atheletic and big.

I readily admit that I didn’t much like him as a Laker, but maybe with the combination of blowout fro and full-court energy, I am willing to try. What say all of y’all?

Turman

PS. Ronny, let the cornrows loose!

I don’t know if this is hella corny or hella awesome. I’m leaning towards awesome, but you be the judge.

M. Meschery

It might tell you something about my competitive nature that I was motivated to enter a “Cookie Bake-off” at my work. I don’t even bake. I mean, I once baked some “magic” brownies in 7th grade, but that was a different kind of “bake-off.” No, tonight I’m trying to get all Martha Stewart on this ish.

I’ve decided to rely on pure creativity over any real baking skills. In fact, “Best Cookie Name” is a category in the competition, so I think I got a real shot at placing in at least that event. I first thought of creating a cookie called the “Boom Drizzle,” named after Baron Davis. It would be some kind of sugar cookie with a chocolate drizzled beard. Then I was thinking about baking the “Kelenna Azucookie” in honor of Azubuike. But then I heard the news that Kelenna just signed an offer sheet with the Clips and I kind of got sick to my stomach. Kelenna! Kelenna! (I just got all exclamative only because I wanted to use Gd’s fresh pic of Kelenna smashing on Kobe again. I’m not really that upset. Boom needs some Warriors to keep him company down there.) But seriously, why not just exchange our entire rosters for Chrissakes! I think there’s a reality show in there somewhere - “Team Swap.” Watch the hijinks unfold as Don Nelson calls for CJ Watson to come off the bench in the 4th quarter, and surprise…it’s Cuttino Mobley! Hilarious.

Oh well, I guess I’m stuck baking some Belinellis tonight. I think those are a type of cookie, right? I swear I heard that in the Sopranos - Carmela telling Tony that she made Baked Ziti for dinner and Belinellis for dessert. Or maybe I was just imagining that.

M. Meschery

I used to watch a lot of television. And in the course of that viewing, a few things stuck. Like this infomercial. Was it really named after a daughter named Nadine? We can only guess. But the perfect symmetry of the moment lives on, give or take an apostraphe. Possessive or not, Nad’s best infomercial was, and is, a perfect moment of televised pogonophobia.

Turman

A couple of weeks back, we drafted Donté Greene in a mock draft conducted by our BFFs at WWOD. Somewhat more recently, Donté Greene had his summer-league debut. Donté Greene went for 40. Donté Greene was five for ten from beyond the arc. He also had a nasty alley oop and at least one tasty dime. Pretty much all of it was captured in this grainy footage. We’ve seen or heard some of the other reports. But, feeling smug for tonight at least, let’s conduct a wee poll.

So. Who’s having the best time in Vegas? The best Summer League ever? Well, on the hardwood at least. Now who? King Marco? Eric Gordon? Anthony Randolph? Or, just perhaps. Our would-be 14, Donté Greene? A couple more worthy Western Conference candidates are there too. As always, comments are encouraged.

Turman

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post’s poll.

PS. Looks like Marcus Camby is going to be a Clipper. In other news from the Southland, a bit of Eric Gordon footage is available after the jump. (more…)

No, “game theory” is not some regional offshoot of pimpology. Game theory is actually a respected branch of applied mathematics, where the application in question is frequently the social sciences. Given the seemingly inexplicable chain reaction that sent Boom Dizzle south, Elton Brand east and Corey Maggette north, let’s see what the smart guys might have already expected to happen. As commenter Skinny Kahuna noted last week, the way things played out is eerily reminiscent of the Prisoner’s Dilemma, a game-theory construct developed by a couple of pocket-protector wearing RAND Corporation employees back in the fifties. It goes a little something like this.

Two suspects are arrested by the police. The police have insufficient evidence for a conviction, and, having separated both prisoners, visit each of them to offer the same deal. If one testifies (”defects”) for the prosecution against the other and the other remains silent, the betrayer goes free and the silent accomplice receives the full 10-year sentence. If both remain silent, both prisoners are sentenced to only six months in jail for a minor charge. If each betrays the other, each receives a five-year sentence. Each prisoner must choose to betray the other or to remain silent. Each one is assured that the other would not know about the betrayal before the end of the investigation. How should the prisoners act?

Even though cooperation would produce the ideal result, the “dominant” strategy, as it is known, is to betray. This is because it will always produce a guaranteed positive outcome. In this case, a five-year contract, I mean, er, sentence. No, I didn’t make that up. Read the Wikipedia entry for yourself if you like.

Now. The events of last week. Make the jump for a an interesting excerpt from the LA Daily News, courtesy of our new favorite source for Beard-related factoids Clips Nation. (more…)

This isn’t a particularly well-edited highlight of tonight’s summer-league win for the Warriors, but it’s enough to get the point across. For those without NBA TV, you’re missing out. Summer-league ball is sort of like watching some sort of crazy melange of YMCA dudes and future stars. One guy throws a three foot hook shot over the backboard and another guy is draining 40 footers at the halftime break. As for the latter, that would be Belinelli, the new king of summer league. Just like last year, he was big time in the small show. Bonus: this year, he’s sporting some manner of a “neard.” Perhaps it will fill in by midseason.

Keep hope alive,

Turman