welcome.
crazyknee.com
is:
a personal
Web page launched Nov. 1, 2000,
the
day Leanne had ACL/meniscus
repair performed
on her right leg. Hence the "crazy knee."
This page will be updated in some weekly way. Hopefully.
25 may 2004 . 08:20 pm PT
Witness the annual joy of the 7-mile Bay to
Breakers footrace:
At the far end of Golden Gate Park, out near the beach, lives a scenic herd of buffalo. Weird, right? Totally.
Classic window display here on rainbow-friendly Castro Street:
16 may 2004 . 10:21 pm PT
Mountain View
Cemetery, Oakland.
Ha ha, it'd be pretty funny wouldn't it if I just started announcing my latest digi cam foray with such austere words as "Mountain View Cemetery, Oakland" or "Mad Dog in the Fog Pub, San Francisco." You'd hate me. Luckily, that's not going to happen. Because I'm right here to tell you that the Mountain View Cemetery is chock full of fancy and ancient mausoleums, winding paths, and dramatic views. Definitely worth checking out.
I'm sun burnt right now, after walking approximately 4.5 miles from my neighborhood to the ocean in the annual Bay to Breakers race (it started in 1912; the official course is 7 miles but we joined the parade halfway, which is definitely allowed). It is honestly the best city-wide party, full of Elvis impersonators, open containers, sprinting Kenyans, cool ocean breezes, old naked people, and sore feet. Pictures to come.
11 may 2004 . 09:21 pm PT
The
Monterey
Bay Aquarium, in case you were wondering, is a nice place. Lots of fish, seaweed and tiny screaming
children. Jellyfish are the coolest.
The opening
paragraph of "Cannery Row" by John Steinbeck, circa 1962: Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a
stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a
nostalgia, a dream. Cannery Row is the gathered and scattered, time and
iron and rust and splintered wood, chapped pavement and weedy lots and
junk-heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky-tonks,
restaurants and whore-houses, and little crowded groceries, and
laboratories and flop-houses. Its inhabitants are, as the man once said,
"Whores, pimps, gamblers, and sons of bitches," by which he meant
Everybody. Had the man looked through another peephole he might have
said, "Saints and angels and martyrs and holy men," and he would have
meant the same thing.
Cannery Row
circa 2004 is a
nausea-inducing tourist trap (except for the aquarium, of course). The old lab where Doc worked, across the
street from Chang's grocery (all lovingly detailed in the book), is still there. But ... no one
cares.
They're all busy buying souvenirs. The great author hung out there, back when this place was real, a real
cannery full of sardines on the desolate coast. Now, it's crap and it's crowded.
A little
farther south is Carmel-by-the-Sea, where Clint Eastwood ran the town. It's all
preppy and sunshine-y there. There's also the infamous 17-mile drive,
winding around the fabulous golf courses of mythic Pebble Beach (it costs
$8.50 to drive those 17 miles ... but if you stop and eat overpriced food
at, say, the Pebble Beach Lodge, you'll get that money back in cash).
The drive will take any willing tourist to the Lone Cypress, the enduring symbol of
the Pebble Beach Corporation, a single pine tree that has stood for years
on a craggy windswept outpost. If you look close enough (and you can't get
very close to the famous cypress) you can see the cabling that holds the poor
tree upright. I got the sense that if that baby ever falls over one stormy
night, a group
of people would swoop in, dressed all in black, and plant an exact replica in its place.
Who knows, it may already have happened.
I, too, took
a picture of the blasted tree. Because
everyone
else is
doing it.
02 may 2004 . 10:12 pm PT
Exhibit A:
Last week I
had a close encounter with the city's wild parrots. Next time I'm bringing
some bird seed.
There's
plenty of trial and error that goes into bringing these perfectly framed
photos to you. Much of the time someone is making a ridiculous face, or
the exposure is off, or you can see my double chin.
Kaboom!: Local radio station KFOG (they cater to Counting Crow/John Mayer-loving middle-aged hipsters) puts on a fireworks show every year. Once again, a Sarah McLachlan tune played during the event. *gags*
|
|
|
the
books page
mini reviews in one long list. most recent reads at top. come over and borrow one, if you want. really. |
|
|
|
featured
players |
|
|
|
email
me at tell
me what |
|
|
|
random photos
|
|
|
|
|
|
for
the *true* fan, check out my past lives as 1) the
mysterious box and 2) the
wonder box.
|
|
|
|
© Leanne Milway 2004
|
||
|
|