To Matthew Africa, One Month Later

A month ago today, many of us lost a dear friend, our beloved Matthew Africa. And, while I was as thunderstruck as the rest of the Bay Area music community (and beyond) who knew and admired him, it seems everyone else acted quickly to memorialize him, wrote eloquently about his many fine qualities, and shared a thousand sweet memories of him with the rest of us who were in mourning. I, on the other hand, quietly sat aside, trolling the web, reading those stories, and mourning this loss more on my own. But, upon waking up this morning and realizing that this world has had to carry on for a whole entire month without Matthew in it, I was struck by how sad that is, and was moved to speak.

Matthew was one of the kindest, gentlest, most articulate and intelligent human beings I've ever known. His musical knowledge was vast and humbling. And, his humility about that made it even more unreal.

I met Matthew 13 years ago, when I came to KALX as a brand new volunteer, working on a public affairs program that followed his DJ set at the time. The setting of a college radio station where volunteering music nerds are asked to work side by side with one another is a ripe environment for all kinds of social experiments. Hazing the newbies is part of the national past-time in places like that. And, if you're not acting cold and unfriendly to them for sport, then you're doing it for lack of your own social skills that make you adept at getting to know people easily. Matthew didn't have either problem. While he was 4 or 5 years older than me in KALX years, he was incredibly kind and patient, always a friendly, smiling face in the studio, and good enough at socializing to learn my name and use it, making me feel like I was being recognized. I always said that he was my first friend at the station.

And, musically speaking, Matthew was a revered KALX DJ who impressed, and to some extent, intimidated, many of us. To the point that when I found out he had reviewed an aircheck tape I submitted at the station for approval to be able to DJ any time of the day or night on the KALX schedule, I was really nervous about it. During a programmers' meeting one night, Matthew passed my tape and his review to me without being about to say a word for the moment. I tried to calmly open up the review, read it quickly, and upon seeing that he had said a number of kind things about my DJ skills and only gave me one little piece of very helpful and legitimate constructive criticism (and he approved me to DJ all the slots on the program schedule), I casually closed up the review and sat there for the rest of the meeting working to contain my excitement. At one point, Matthew caught my eye and, in trying to play it cool, I just sort of half-smiled at him. So cool was I, and so considerate and thoughtful was he, that immediately after the meeting ended, Matthew came over to me and asked me if I was okay. Out of respect for our friendship, he was worried that my half-smile after he saw me read the review was some sort of indication that I was upset at him for the one little piece of advice he was giving me. I had to tell him just how completely unnecessary his concern was and exactly how happy he had made me! It breaks my heart how sweet that moment was every time I think of it now.

Fast forward 11 years, and after circling each other around KALX for much of that time, then losing touch at some point, I found myself looking for work at Youth Radio, a training organization for young people in radio and media production, where Matthew also happened to be a DJ on a streaming music service there (All Day Play). The day I went for a tour of Youth Radio and was told that he was DJ'ing there was the first day I knew where he had taken up residence after his long tenure at KALX ended. Days later, when I was offered the job there, I was told by my boss-to-be that she had run into Matthew before that and told him I was being considered for a position there. She reported that he gave me a glowing reference, saying that I was "drama-free," which was all she seemed to care about. Even though the professional references I provided her were high-ranking staff at the FCC, previous Presidents of a national community radio organization, and heavy-hitters like that, the E.D. of Youth Radio checked in with Matthew to find out if I'd be an asset to the organization, and he knew exactly how to describe me to make me look good.

My two years at Youth Radio allowed me the opportunity to see Matthew about once a week, when he would come in for his DJ set most Friday nights. Most of those occasions, Matthew would slip in quietly and get to work in the studio and I would forget that he was there (because he rarely got on mic) until I heard a great track start that only he could play, or a sublime segue lead into a fantastic song I'd never heard before and then I would remember that it was Friday, and Matthew was on the decks in the room 2 doors down from my office. Or, Matthew would be coming out of the darkened studio for a glass of water or to point out the location of the restroom to the guest he had with him in studio, and I would then follow him back into the studio and hover while he put his headphones on cockeyed so he could get back to work, but still show me that he was available to talk should I want to say anything. Oftentimes, he would close down his set and I would walk him out of the studio and leave work too. That's how I got to spend more time with my friend, Matthew, in these past couple of years than ever before.

Every 3 months, Youth Radio would graduate a batch of students who went through the programs, and as director of those programs, I was in charge of organizing the graduation ceremonies. For the last Youth Radio graduation ceremony that I presided over this past June, I was stuck for a keynote speaker because folks had fallen through on me. In a pinch, I turned to a friend whom I knew would have the cred to deliver a speech about DJ'ing and who the young people would recognize. I was also hoping that, as a friend, he wouldn't be mad about the late invitation. With only a few days' notice, Matthew was not only characteristically gracious about accepting what would normally be considered an offensive last-minute "honor," he bent over backwards to accommodate our schedule, and spoke from the heart to deliver the BEST, most appropriate and inspiring speech I've ever heard at a Youth Radio graduation. An interview was shot of Matthew prior to his giving the keynote speech in which he was asked to talk about his experience as a professional DJ. An edited version of that has been posted on Youth Radio's YouTube account, but I've seen the uncut version of that interview and you see a lot more of Matthew's charm, warmth, and good humor come through in that!

The day after I found out about Matthew's untimely passing, I also lost my job at Youth Radio, and that night, I was glad of the timing. It's not a coincidence to me that Matthew had a hand in my getting that job, and when he was no longer able to be there, I wouldn't have to be either. I'm happy I never had to be at Youth Radio on a Friday night without my dear friend in the studio nearby, spinning his beloved music for the world to enjoy. I'm proud to have known him in this really special way.

"Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

Let's Talk About ME!

It seemed like a good, introspective night to draw up a list of some 25 little-known, and somewhat-known things about myself. I needed an excuse to get back to my blog after such a long absence. So, in case you were interested...

1. I was born the year of the Tiger and under the sun sign of Cancer, and I actually do see qualities of both astrology signs in my outward personality.

2. When I was 5, I won 2nd place in a kids' singing contest in a refugee camp in Thailand, and the prize was a 2 lb. bag of rice, a blanket, some hard candy, and a weird plastic toy that I really loved.

3. I don't think John Taylor is as hot as every other woman my age thinks. He's just okay. I only say he's hot and act all in love to keep my 80's cred when the subject turns to Duran Duran.

4. The thing I miss the most when I'm away from my beloved is the way his breath smells when we're kissing.

5. I like talking about myself a lot. I try not to, to be sociable, but I really actually like doing all the talking, and my favorite subject is me.

6. I fear that I'm already losing my hearing, and I'm not even 40 yet.

7. I'm not sure I ever want to have kids because my older sister's kids are SO amazingly cute, and I just don't think I can top them. It genuinely worries me that I wouldn't love mine as much because of that.

8. Sometimes I think Marisa Tomei should play me in a stage production of my life, but then I'm afraid that Janeane Garofalo will get the role because she's more like me than Marisa is, and Janeane is a VERY mouthy woman! Plus, Janeane and I are exactly the same height.

9. I talk in my sleep. I have fully coherent, thoughtful, emotion-filled conversations with people in my sleep, and never know anything about it the next morning.

10. I probably would've gone back for my PhD in archaeology eventually if the radio bug hadn't bitten me.

11. The first sentence I ever learned to say in English was: "I hit, you die."

12. Even though I'm so arrogant that I sometimes feel like I'm better than my two older sisters because of the experiences I've had in life and the choices I've made, I can't live without their approval and support, and this makes me sure that I either still love them very much, or I need therapy very badly.

13. I am an excruciatingly slow reader.

14. I secretly love looking at pictures of Britney Spears (the pretty ones, not the awful candid shots) because she's everything I wanted to look like when I was 12.

15. I wish I'd known my grandfathers, both of whom died before my parents ever met. I have this very sacred and idealistic vision of what a close relationship with a grandfather means to a child.

16. When I was 15, I tried to write my own grocery store check-out stand smutty paperback, but had to plagiarize all the sex scenes because I didn't know enough about it to write any of those parts myself.

17. I actually believe that connecting with people and fostering strong bonds is what I was meant to do in this life. It's why I can't take friendships lightly.

18. I'm very strangely afraid of wind and alligators. It's as if I was killed by an alligator on a windy day in some previous life.

19. After almost every meal, I can't feel clean again unless I can go wash and rinse my mouth out with warm water. I don't need to floss or brush, just wash and rinse.

20. I'm ridiculously afraid of June Bugs, those rust-orange colored beetles that fly, and crash into your hair and face because they've got terrible vision or something.

21. I'm glad that I'm good with words, even if it means that I'm terrible with numbers. That's okay. If given a choice between the 2, I would've picked this way, anyway.

22. When I was 8 or 9, I used to read bedtime stories into a tape recorder and play it back for myself at night when I went to sleep because no one could read to me before bed. It used to freak my mom out when she walked into my room at night after I'd already fallen asleep, and be able to hear me alert and reading out loud in the dark.

23. When I'm in my 40's or 50's, I want to go live in Italy for a few years to learn how to cook authentic Italian food and speak the language.

24. I can't watch commercials on T.V. or listen to them on the radio. I mute them and turn away every time a show goes to break. Commercials make me panic and I start to fear that I can fall victim to some weird form of 50's-era mind control experiments.

25. Everybody thinks I'm really self-confident, but it's all an act. I've got more monsters lurking in my anxiety closet than that kid Binkley ever dreamed of!

Mulder, it's me...

Earlier tonight, I hosted an X-Files mini-marathon in my livingroom. Eight of my closest fan friends, a whole lot of snacks and beverages, and a very nice projector pointed at a plain white wall of the room, and I was on. There is perhaps no other time in which I'm more in my element than when people are quizzing me about things that happened, lines that were uttered, or actors who played whom on "The X-Files". I love that T.V. show, and probably know it better than any other T.V. show I've ever followed. Certainly better than any life I've ever led. (No matter how much you pay attention to things happening in your own life, you'll never be as familiar with it as you can be with something that you can view over and over again. And, let's be honest, nobody's writing books that cover seasons of your life, episode by episode, which you can use as reference material.)

My good friend Marin started me collecting all the seasons of The X-Files on DVD a few years ago. She successfully bid on the Season 1 set on eBay, and when she gave it to me, the floodgates opened to a yearning to be 9 seasons strong, and I didn't look back until eBay, Amazon used, and Best Buy in-store sales made me so. Now, I'm working my way through the entire show again, episode by episode, season by season, until I get to that 1-hour, 30-minute series finale again and we start the cycle at the Pilot once more. All the while, throwing little marathons like this one, in which I curate what episodes I see fit, according to any themes I've been thinking of, requested eps I've been asked to show, or because there's some new X-Files event coming soon.

Which brings me to the reason I had this marathon tonight: In 7 days, the new X-Files movie will premier, and while I'm excited to see what's become of our heroes, I'm a little worried that the magic won't still be there. You never know how weird dinner with an old lover will be. You never know how reunion tours will sound.

So, I had to get into the mood by screening a few episodes (5, in the end) of Chris Carter's primer list of what to watch before you see the movie if you're new here.

These were the 8 on his list:
Pilot (season 1, episode 1)
Beyond the Sea (season 1, episode 12)
The Host (season 2, episode 2)
Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose (season 3, episode 4)
Memento Mori (season 4, episode 15)
Post-Modern Prometheus (season 5, episode 6)
Bad Blood (season 5, episode 12)
Milagro (season 6, episode 18)

A DVD of these 8 eps has been released to consumers, making this seem like a cheap way to get more DVD sales out of fans, at least new ones, which makes me kind of sad. I love Muldy, and I try to emulate Scully in every pinched and concentrated face I make, so I have all 9 seasons in boxed sets on my shelf. But, who loves them so little that they would buy some random collection of 8, yet loves them so much that they would buy some random collection of 8? It doesn't make sense to me.

I sure hope the movie itself makes better sense and lives up.

Word Juices

Has it really been a month since my last blog post? For shame, me! For shame the muse that has evidently left me! I've spent most of today reading some of my favorite writers so that I could get my juices flowing again.

Word Juices: They flow at inspiration gained from the likes of Clive Staples Lewis, whose masterpiece that he spent most of his life thinking about, Till We Have Faces, is the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche, beautifully retold to make even a grown-up feel like she's reading a bedtime story. The title page inside the edition I'm holding has this enigmatic quote under Lewis' name: "Love is too young to know what conscience is." I'm still wrapping my brain around all the different things that could mean.

The second great writer, Wystan Hugh Auden, wrote a number of poems that I've read and loved for a while. I'm not a big reader of poetry, but his stuff inspires me to action...

Leap Before You Look (W. H. Auden)

The sense of danger must not disappear:
The way is certainly both short and steep,
However gradual it looks from here;
Look if you like, but you will have to leap.

Tough-minded men get mushy in their sleep
And break the by-laws any fool can keep;
It is not the convention but the fear
That has a tendency to disappear.

The worried efforts of the busy heap,
The dirt, the imprecision, and the beer
Produce a few smart wisecracks every year;
Laugh if you can, but you will have to leap.

The clothes that are considered right to wear
Will not be either sensible or cheap,
So long as we consent to live like sheep
And never mention those who disappear.

Much can be said for social savoir-faire,
But to rejoice when no one else is there
Is even harder than it is to weep;
No one is watching, but you have to leap.

A solitude ten thousand fathoms deep
Sustains the bed on which we lie, my dear;
Although I love you, you will have to leap;
Our dream of safety has to disappear.

How far can the fruit fall from the tree?

This weekend, I went to Southern California (Orange County to be specific) for a few days to undergo some obligatory, family events -- a cousin's oldest son was having his first communion, my godson was doing the same thing, and my parents celebrated their 41st anniversary. A lot of parties were had. A lot of excessive eating, gossiping too loudly, and carrying on took place.

It's no secret to most people who've witnessed one of my hater moods that I don't like Orange County. I don't like anything about it: the way it's called The O.C. (as if it's serious enough to carry a definite article a la the Hague), the homogeneous conservatism that persists still now after 2 terms with George W., and particularly the people who inhabit it, and the sprawl that they inhabit. Yet, 90% of the extended family I knew growing up, which in turn is about 60% of my existing family overall, lives there. They grew up there, live and work there, and have chosen to raise a whole new generation of my kin there. From my two older sisters to about 7 cousins that I hung out with in my childhood, with just a few exceptions, no one has left that 'burb, and never will. They shop at Walmart, they don't recycle, they drive SUV's, they get their news from primetime television, and they all vote republican, when they do vote.

Therein lies the chasm that separates me from them. After leaving predictable and convenient South Orange County for college life in Berkeley and then staying north, I'm a changed sheep and am barred from talking about politics at the dinner table when home with the fam.

But, on this last visit, something unexpected happened that gave me a thrill of hope. The afternoon before I left, my sister's kids, Preston and Taylor, accompanied me to the local park in my parents' neighborhood for a few swings and slides on the playground equipment. As we walked past neighbors' houses with Taylor in the lead discussing the plot of Cinderella III: A Twist in Time, and not caring if anyone was listening, 8-year-old Preston randomly started asking me about my experience in Vietnam, following the war, before we (his mother's side of the family) fled as refugees to the US. He asked me if we left Vietnam because our side had lost. I've never been asked about anything as important as war before by a child and I didn't know what to say. Of all the soapbox speeches I've given in my life, they've never been ones geared toward young, impressionable children who aren't prepared to debate any points with me, and who only sincerely want to get my take on things.

So, I was actually thoughtful and measured with my response, a style I don't commonly practice when talking to my family. I told Preston that we probably would've fled Vietnam when we did no matter how the war turned out because it's very hard to live in a country where something like that has taken place. I said that regardless of what side you're on in any war, you're bound to suffer, because death and destruction affects both sides. I didn't realize, but Preston is apparently old enough to know that the U.S. is fighting a war in Iraq right now. He pointed out to me that despite the fact our country is at war, he's not suffering very much. So, I said that he's only spared the kind of suffering I'm talking about because he's not there, in Iraq, to experience this war. I told him that however this one ends, there will be people in Iraq who will wish they could leave and start a new life somewhere that hasn't been bombed into oblivion, and that it's just like our family felt when we had to leave Vietnam 29 years ago.

Preston thought over what I said for about half a block and then asked me, without affect or agenda, "Then, why is there war?"

Pause to recover from the enormity of that question coming from a little boy who's worldview is just now being formed.

"No one knows why there's war, Preston. Grown-ups are always arguing about it, and yet they still can't figure it out. I think it's more important that we know how we feel about war, and if we don't like it, how to avoid it. When you become a grown-up, you might be in a position of leadership and you might get to decide if there's going to be a war or not. But, even if you aren't, you'll be able to choose the people who do decide those kinds of things. And, that's important too when you know what you think about war."

Preston just looked at me thoughtfully and didn't say anything else. I don't know what went through his head right then, but since he didn't turn away from me and start singing any of a number of SpongeBob SquarePants songs I know he's fond of, I can only guess that I was able to shape him a little differently than all the other adults around him are likely to do. I know he has another 10 years in Orange County before he's legal to leave, but maybe there's hope that the fruit, which doesn't fall far from the tree, will nonetheless roll a significant distance in a direction heretofore unexpected.

I Heart Tech Support

Tonight, after a lovely evening of drinks and a Cambodian meal, my good friend Gene, the person in my life that I run to when I have REAL tech questions, about REAL tech matters, like programming language issues, not just end-user "Why is my iPod doing THAT???" whines, took me back to his office with him and fixed some formatting issues on my blog to make everything look better. He also explained to me some things about html so that in the future, I can fix these little things on my own. I always think it's better if he teaches me to fish, so that I can feed myself. Though, I tell him that since he works only about 5 blocks from me, he could just bring me fish for lunch every day if I never learn to. But, this is not the spirit of growth, I'm told.

Gene answering any sort of tech question of mine is common practice. Just like Marin serving as my own personal iTunes support person. And, Shrey taking my calls at any hour of the day or night to field urgent ProTools questions. I just got it like that. It's great. I am the question ninja, popping out of a darkened corner in my shinobi shozoko and without any introductions, asking my tech question, getting the answer, and fading back into the shadows.

Though, I'm sure that these people in my life, so victimized because they know stuff and can explain it really effectively, must take a lot of abuse from those of us less knowledgeable all the time. They have to explain things over and over again. They can't speak in shorthand because the people they're addressing would never understand them. They don't get paid for these consulting services they're providing for family and friends. Yet they still take my phone calls. I'm so impressed by their generosity. I'm so thankful they took the time to learn all this stuff that I didn't. And, really, I'm so glad I've got them on retainer -- friend retainer. I love my tech support!

Proud to be an Athletic Supporter

It's easy to love the A's. It's easy, and I do it. Even when they lose. Even when there are only 10,000 fans in the stands with me. Even when it's cold and raining, and there's no ride home from BART after I reach 19th Street and I have to walk the 20 minutes uphill at 11:00pm, on a weeknight. Even when my boss, a FORMER A's fan, hassles me at work the day after they lose a game. Even when the team threatens to leave Oakland and move to the suburbs of my behated Southbay. Even when a lot of things.

The reason it's so easy is not just because I always love the home team, or even that this home team exemplifies me really well with their scrappy sort of attitude. It's because they're fun. Win or lose, they have a good time, and keep it light, and show their spirit, and maintain their camaraderie. With heroic star players or with no-name newly-acquireds, they give me someone to love and cheer for every single time. Take Big Joe Blanton, or not-born-in-Japan Kurt Suzuki, or the new Nick Swisher Andrew Brown -- that's the spirit of the A's club that you'll never find in a contending team like the Yankees. (Plus, the A's have Stomper, who's new Make Some Noise video featuring the Stomper Trumpet Puppet is the funniest thing I've seen at a ballpark EVER. After several viewings, I'm STILL laughing.) So, that's why I love this team. And, it's EASY.

My beloved doesn't write that often. (Maybe that's why, when he does, he commits so many little grammatical errors that the OCD in me flags.) But, when he does write, it's good stuff. It's insightful, it's poetry, and it makes me laugh. And by far, the best thing he's ever written, in my opinion, is this, a blog entry from the past winter break, when the A's front office traded away the fans' most beloved player, Nick Swisher.

I'm not going to complain about anything that happens this season. I'm just going to attend all the home games I can wearing my old Jason Kendall tee-shirt, and being thankful to be back in Oakland, where I can root for my A's in person or over the radio, and I never have to contend with a 9-hour time difference, or the inefficiencies of mlb.com's hissing audio stream.

Let's go, Oakland! Clap-clap, clap-clap-clap!