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In the normalness that is usual for San Francisco, August was a pretty cold month. We had a lot of fog and a lot of people saying that it seemed like there was more fog than usual this year. Of course, that wasn't the case, but so it goes with many here who don't like the fog, yet stay in SF. Myself, I'm a big fan of it and I enjoy when it comes rolling in. I also don't happen to live in the fog belts of the "Sunset" and Richmond Districts where they get hit hardest by it. If I were out there, my take might be a tad different. But, as I sit here in the very last days of August, I'm realizing it has warmed up a bit, which is rather strange, since that usually hits in September or October. No worries, I can go out on the roof and get a tan without having to wear a blanket.       I have noticed how slow this month has gone by. I'm not complaining in the least about it, for it's the first time in a long time were a month seems like a discernable measurement of time rather than a blur that passes me in a flash. The slowness can only be blamed on my lack of a fulltime work. When a cyclone of emails, phonecalls, and screaming cooling fans doesn't fill your day, it is a wonder how much slower and methodical life becomes. I finally feel like I'm getting some work done on things which have lingered for a long time. I'm going to shoot a short film next month and I haven't done anything in a cinematic way for over a year and a half! My general rule is that if I'm not getting rejected from Sundance each year, then I'm just not really doing anything in film and should hang up my hat.       I look forward to the coming months, although I know that they'll not be as kind on time once I get used to this schedule and I'll have to make use of the time at hand to take on projects and the search for meaningful employment or once again, it will pass me by and I'll regret it.

So weird. I was walking up the street on Sutter the other day and this older Chinese fellow walked past me. After he passed, this cyclone of pigeons came swirling behind him. He kept walking on as I tried to battle the flapping rats as they engulfed me in their filth.       Then, as quickly as it began, it was over and they kept going down the street in this massive flock, following that old guy. He wasn't tossing out bread crumbs or anything that I could see, but somehow they bowed ot him as their master, like that episode of The Simpsons where Homer become the master of a murder of crows.       I admit I was a bit envious and wished to have that kind of power over a lower life form someday, but if that day were to ever come, I hope that it's not pigeons I control. Squirrels definitely would be okay, but pigeons never.

I was up at a Best Buy the other day because I had to get a new phone for my land line. It appears that the cordless phone I currently have (a 5.8 Ghz model from Uniden) is futzing up my line to the point where it makes my DSL not work at all and when that's not working, you're not going to get at all the hudin.com goodness. Anyways, I found a nice cheapo model for $15, got it and checked out. As the cashier totaled everything up, he asked me if I wanted an extended warranty for it for "only five dollars!"       I do feel sorry for these guys as they have to shill all this garbage of their corporate employer these days just to make them a couple of extra bucks. In addition to the fact that I simply don't believe in these warranties as they are a bad deal, this one was 33% of the total phone cost! It's a really stupid deal considering this is a pretty non-important element to my overall existence. Needless to say, I passed on that "amazing" deal, but it made me remember an incident involving my dad and the extended warranty.       He and my mom had to buy a new washing machine, so they went to the local Sears and found a model that was something like $600. This was back around 1990, so that was a pretty darn expensive machine. The sales guy kept pushing an extended warranty for $100 extra dollars that would extend that washing machine's basic warranty out to a full five years. Now, there isn't that much complicated with a washing machine and in reality they don't really fail. If they do fail, it's well within their standard warranty time. So, after the third time the guy tried to pitch this to my dad, he looked at him with my most direct Croatian stare and said, "If this thing stops working in the next five years, I will drive back over here with it and throw it through the front window of the store. Now shut the hell up about your warranty."       That was 15 years ago. The machine is still doing just fine and a heavy-handed toss was never needed. Brilliant approach, dad.

There are a couple of inevitable things that happen when you don't have to get up for a job anymore. One is that you start sleeping in later and later as it appears that 9AM is my new favorite time to wake up. Another thing is that you start noticing things in your neighborhood more. For instead, I notice the people at Cup A Joe across the street to a much greater degree. I've gotten to know who the "regulars" are so well that one of two things is going to happen. I'm either going to go down there and join then, or start writing dialogs about them.       So here we go, let's meet The Gang:       The Drummer: A mild mannered guy originally from NY who is full of interesting lore about the neighborhood back when it was still very much the Tenderloin and not the Southwest corner of Nob Hill.       The Ponderer: An older fellow who can wax poetically about days gone by, endlessly, and with no sign of stopping.       The Owner: This is actually Joe who owns Cup A Joe and will pop in with the groups to chat about whatever while he's watching shop.       The Dude: This is really any number of guys who fill in the this role and are pretty much all the same with sunglasses, a hipster attitude, and a take no crap, mocha with whipped cream kind of way about them.       The Chick: Much like Dude, this is the token girl in the group which is any number of girls that are trying to look like the go to art school because they go to art school.       The Wanker: Ah, The Wanker. All of us in a two block radius love this guy. He's loud and obnoxious with little to say (these often go hand in hand for some mystifying reason.) He is so loud that people from all the apartment buildings complain about him and he gets in fights about things he doesn't know about with other patrons at the cafe.       The Dog: The Chihuahua who rides shotgun with Wanker and is a thankful beast in that he can't understand what the hell his human says.              EXT. - OUTDOOR CAFE - MORNING              We open on a cafe with people coming and going to get their morning fix of caffeine. At a table outside sit DRUMMER, PONDERER, and DUDE. They are having a normal conversation about the weather and what not, when CHICK comes out with a cup of coffee and sits down.              Little changes as they continue to chat.              WANKER comes up the street with DOG tucked in his sweatshirt in a fashion he finds immensely cool and non-derivative.                            Drummer gets up to leave.                            Drummer nods and leaves.                            Chick and Dude both leave.              Wanker and Dog turn to look at Ponderer.                            Wanker and Dog watch Ponderer leave. We Fade Out on Wanker starting to tell his political ideals to someone sitting outside who is trying to read a paper in solitude.

In the 21st century, Cinderella wouldn't be waiting for her Prince Charming to bring her mythical shoe. She would be waiting in line, overnight, with a chair and a Coke at 808 Sutter Street instead, waiting for Thug Charma to get his Honda Accord with the big tailpipe parked after the street sweeper goes by.       Such has been the case for the last couple of days at a store called Huf on Sutter that seems to get some first run of the next Nikes that are coming out. Every so often, you'll see a couple of people bring chairs and then a few more. All of the sudden, there will be this very long line of people snaking up the block, waiting for the store to open in the hopes they will get one of the few, the proud, the sweatshop manufactured, Nike shoe/dunk/kick that's emerged from the boat. I'm so freakin' unhip at this point I don't even know if they make Jordans anymore. They probably do, since they made them a potload of money.       It makes me thing about all the times I camped out to wait for something that I wanted. it doesn't take long for me to think about this, since I've only done it once when I showed up three hours early for a movie. I don't even do that anymore. I figure anything good is going to be around for awhile and why pay top dollar or waste my time trying to be the first, when I can wait a week, month, or get it on ebay or Netflix. Good lord I've gotten lazy, soft, and patient in my old age...

Paint and specifically new paint is a smell that I remember fondly. Such is not the case for many people who find the fumes to be noxious and try to stay clear. For me though, I also associate new paint with my grandparents' house. My grandmother likes things to be rather clean and tidy and with this, I think that there was always something that had just gotten a fresh layer of polyurethane over the top of it. My cookies, cartoons, and other spoilings back in the days of yore are forever intertwined with the smell of paint.       This is why one of the things I like about living in an apartment is the fact that you get to smell new paint quite a bit. There is always someone moving out each month and with a move out usually comes a coat of new paint to go over the top of the other 50+ layers most of the units have seen since the 1920's when the building was constructed. The smell does seem a bit more intense than I remember though. It's at a level where you can taste it depending on where you are in the building and how keen your senses are that day.       Despite all that, new neighbors and new paint are something I look forward to. I feel like I need to go out and spoil myself with some ice cream when the smell of flat eggshell/almond/navajo/mission or whatever shade of off-white it is that they use in the units greets me as I check my mail.

This is the new film by Kar Wai Wong and is showing in pretty limited engagements here, there, and around. It's not the kind of film that Americans are used to and for that above all else, it is a welcome change.       I went in to see it over the weekend, not really knowing what to expect other than something of a sequel to "In the Mood for Love" which was a beautiful film and for the camera work to be amazing. Christopher Doyle, who did the Love cinematography also did "Hero" and his work is nothing short of spectacular. On both of these two points, the film was what I expected (althought Doyle tries some different tricks than past films), but it diverted quite a bit from anything else I thought I was going to get. For instance, I thought it was going to be more sci-fi and that is obviously what the previews want you to think, but such is not the case. For the most part, it takes place in Hong Kong and Singapore in the 1960's. 2046, the year or place is a spot for escape. Somewhere else that isn't here and isn't what the protagonist has to deal with in real life, although this place is something of therapy for him.       Overall and after much thought, I have to say that I really liked the film. As to whether I think it's better than Mood for Love, that's a hard thing to say, since these are two very different films. The pacing is similar, but the approach changes greatly. I think that Love may have been a little more cohesive and well-played than 2046, but it is still a wonderful, lovely, yet unconventional film.       It's this last point that is going to be hard for some people. For, as Jenya and I walked out of the Landmark Embarcadero Theater where it is playing, this woman (whom neither of us knew) acosted Jenya and asked her flat out, "Did that make any sense to you? I mean, it's over and I just don't get it. What went on? What was the point?" Her questions were very much to the point, direct, and while seeming somewhat ridiculous, were also somewhat poignant. She hadn't seen "In the Mood for Love" and so this style of filmmaking (Love Noir as the critics have been dubbing it) is a tough thing to take. If things like "The Island" or "The Fast and the Furious" are what you really like, then this isn't going to hold water with you. The pace is slow and deliberate, but it is good. It takes time to get used to it. Much the same as you need to be hopped up on Coke and goofballs to enjoy an MTVesque action movie these days, you need to go the opposite direction and slow down to understand the film.       For this woman, she will likely come to the same conclusion that I did after thinking about Mood for Love for a couple of days after seeing it, which is to say that I truly loved the film. I hope that our 10 minute conversation with her helped to some degree. But, that's the way it is with anything good I've found. If you get something right away, you can toss it out of your system like sugar you've had for dessert. It doesn't stick with you in good ways. Film and music are just like food this way. Everything I like has had to ruminate. In truth, I didn't have to think about 2046 that long before wrapping it around myself, but it still required thought. You have to piece things together and it's a great film because even if you tell the ending of the film, you don't really give anything away. While not a hallmark of cinema, it's very, very close and worth a viewing from anyone who appreciates the movies and can slow themselves down for two hours to watch it.

I'm poking around Google Map in their satellite views section, which is pretty damned cool. I get bored of looking around the USA and staring at the top of my apartment, so I go and look at where I spent my last vacation. When I zoom in on Venice I can see very clearly where I stayed when I was there. Kinda hard to describe, since they don't include street names, but it's in the middle of that middle canal that joins the two main ones. That's a pretty impressive shot. I wish we had had this with us when we got in there at 23:00 and had no clue where we were going because the water taxi driver dropped us off on the wrong side of the island. Oh well, live and learn. Bring a map the next time.       Onward I went to some of the areas in Croatia, which don't show up as well. That's not surprising, since it's a slightly less frequented area. For instance, Rovinj is something of a hazy blur. Look in my Photos area if you want some more detailed pics of that lovely place. Dubrovnik, much like Venice has very good resolution, although these shots must have been taken sometime outside of summer, because the Stradun (the main street through the center of town) is empty and from the end of May through the beginning of September, that is one packed place, although there appear to be people on the beach at Ploce to the right. It's pretty recent otherwise, because the Hilton a little to the left looks to be completed and that only happened a few months ago.       The we come to where my hotel was in Zagreb. If you can see it, the street I was on was one block to the right of that main park on a street called Petrinkska. It's a nice place, which is unfortunately obfuscated by some massively low lying clouds. Nice job guys. Where on earth did this shot come from? I think it's ironic that the shots of San Francisco, the city of fog as it gets dubbed, are much, much clearer than this. But, for what it's worth, there's Zagreb. Enjoy!

Microsoft's Internet Explorer finally done did me in. Yeah, I know, I should know better than to still be using it on a Windows machine, but hey, it's what the vast majority of people out there use and when I build up a website, I like to see what they're seeing. Of course, I can always test a site in Explorer and use something else for my main browser.       But last night, Explorer gave me a BSoD (Blue Screen of Death for those not in the know) and I haven't had one of those in I don't know how long. Ever since Windows XP Service Pack 1, it's been a pretty damn stable system. But, there is was a blue screen, staring at me in the face right after I tried to launch Explorer. Explorer has also been pretty generally janky with how it has been rendering some pages.       I decided to take the plunge. I moved over to Firefox. I imported all my Explorer info over (not all of it goes despite the fact Firefox says it will import it.) I fired it up and got everything organized and am happily browsing away on it.       Is it a better browser than Explorer? Of course! I already knew that from using Firefox on OS X, where it basically is the only truly reliable web brwoser for that platform. On Windows, it is faster, has so far been more stable, and has features (such as tabbed browsing) that make life on the Net a lot easier than it already is.       I wonder why I didn't switch before and I really don't have a good answer for that except for abject laziness to move over. But with Firefox continuing to grow in use, it appears I'm not the only one who has jumped on this wagon. My BSoD could very well not have been Explorer's fault, but it was time to make the switch and that was the right excuse.

This Stampede is a sad thing. It's sad because people are so dumb and crazed that they're spending all night in line to get a used Apple iBook for $50. It harkens back to incidents at a Walmart in the south where people were trampled trying to get a $30 DVD player before Christmas and also to London when IKEA opened and people got trampled in the rush to buy a Pljurkog of their very own. I suppose it goes to show that even with the advances we've made in medicine, science, and the arts, we still are, at our heart a stupid pack animal that does some ridiculous things.       Selling the US on the thought that they need something that they don't have or that they don't have something because something else is causing it has gotten to be the genius of marketing in the 21st century for this country. I have to hand it to Steve Jobs. When you get this kind of passion...              Jesse Sandler said he was one of the people pushing forward, using a folding chair he had brought with him to beat back people who tried to cut in front of him.

      "I took my chair here and I threw it over my shoulder and I went, 'Bam,'" the 20-year-old said nonchalantly, his eyes glued to the screen of his new iBook, as he tapped away on the keyboard at a testing station.

      "They were getting in front of me and I was there a lot earlier than them, so I thought that it was just," he said.              ...from people waiting to get a computer, a hunk of plastic that can't really even run the current version of the Apple operating system very well, then you've really created a monster. The dark humor of this is beautiful and frightening. It really seems like The Onion is writing this headline. I'm just at a loss.       And it's not just the sensless violence and mass hysteria. It's the fact that I've worked with these particular machines in the past. They're junk. No, this isn't just an AntiApple person speaking. These iBooks really are junk. At my last company, we had a slew of them. I believe that each and every one of them had to go back for repairs at least once. The biggest problems are the screens (a $800 repair) and the batteries (a $100 replacement) not to mention the occasional logic board or hard drive that bites the dust and can't be replaced by the lay person who is buying this "bargain". The people may have gotten more than just soaked pants waiting in line. They may have gotten a machine that would cost them more to fix in the long run than buying a new Sony Vaio, Thinkpad, or hell, even a Dell laptop. Didn't they maybe think there was a reason the school was selling these machines off at such a discount? They were swinging chairs I suppose. Hey, when we gonna get around to invadin' Iran?