Saturday, June 26 -- In the cool of an Oakland afternoon
Short and sweet,
Check 'em out. John Montgomery's photos from the helicopter. The Ocean Beach event, plus the Crissy Field event.
I've seen them just once. I think my favorite might be the one of all 600-800 of us circled up on Ocean Beach, and maybe a workable caption might be: "OIL -- it's upside down and backwards." But then maybe my brain isn't working right just yet.
I may not be answering emails for a while. Postcards within a couple of weeks. Please let me know if you have any particular favorite.
THANKS everyone for making the day one of the special days of my life.
;-)
Brad
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Fantastic event
Fantastic event. Maybe 600-800 people, although the person I asked to get a head count reported 1,000, but it didn't look like it to me, and I've learned to trust my eye.
Here is an early return -- some photos. The goosebump moment came during the long line along the beach. That was priceless. If you didn't see, you would have appreciated seeing the smiles on the faces.
More to follow. John Montgomery says photos from helicopter are great.
Thanks so much to everyone who came, or who wanted to and couldn't. And special thanks to Frank, Jim, Michael, George, Louis Travis, and right now that's all of the people who came early that my mush brain is allowing me access to.
Brad
Here is an early return -- some photos. The goosebump moment came during the long line along the beach. That was priceless. If you didn't see, you would have appreciated seeing the smiles on the faces.
More to follow. John Montgomery says photos from helicopter are great.
Thanks so much to everyone who came, or who wanted to and couldn't. And special thanks to Frank, Jim, Michael, George, Louis Travis, and right now that's all of the people who came early that my mush brain is allowing me access to.
Brad
Saturday, June 5, 2010
"SLASH OIL" EVENT -- June 26, 10:30 a.m., Ocean Beach, SF
(NOTE: The general information immediately below will be updated between now and June 26. The organizer's running blog follows the general information.)
THE BOTTOM LINE
You are invited.
On Saturday morning, June 26, approximately two thousand people will gather at 10:30 a.m. on Ocean Beach in San Francisco for a peaceful exercise in democracy and community. We will lie down on the sand, arranged into a sprawling “Slash Oil” image which will be photographed from an overhead helicopter. (Imagine the above "Slash Oil" sketch tipped "right side up" and created on a spot about 200 yards up the beach from where the "IMPEACH!" image was created.) We expect images and stories from the event to be featured in the mainstream news media and to blitz the Internet. Anyone who attends the event will receive an "overhead" postcard. Please join us.
TIME:
Please aim for a 10:30 a.m. arrival, and please ARRIVE NO LATER THAN 11:00 a.m. A helicopter will arrive overhead at 11:25 - 11:30 a.m. and remain for approximately fifteen minutes. At similar past events, late arrivers have, to their great disappointment, found the helicopter nowhere to be seen and the participants already dispersing.
LOCATION:
On the sand of Ocean Beach, at the western end of Golden Gate Park. The stairways at Ocean Beach are each numbered, and where Fulton Avenue intersects Great Highway, look for Stairway 13. (The site is approximately 200 yards north of the Beach Chalet Restaurant and a third of a mile south of the Cliff House.)
POSTCARDS:
To receive a professional, original, over-sized postcard featuring a photo taken by the airborne photographer, simply fill out an address label (available on site) and leave it with a volunteer holding a “Postcard Addresses” bucket. Allow at least two weeks for delivery by US mail.
MONEY:
The event is free.
The cost, roughly $3,000, is being paid by the organizer (that’s me, San Francisco cab driver Brad Newsham) and he would love to be reimbursed. If you want to help out, please simply drop a donation in the address label bucket. Donation or not (no one is keeping track), anyone filling out an address label will receive a postcard.
SIGN-UP:
Having people “registered” attracts news media and helps propels the story and images out to the world. The Internet is a given, but we’re also aiming for the next day’s fat Sunday newspapers, major tv networks, CNN, plus news media all over the world, where people are interested in America’s response to the Gulf catastrophe. Please register here.
TRANSPORT, CARPOOL:
San Francisco MUNI buses service Ocean Beach. If you drive, please try carpool with friends who are coming.
PARKING:
There is usually ample free parking at Ocean Beach on a Saturday morning. The Hands Across the Sands events have been attracting a lot of attention, so my best advice: come early.
THE IMAGE:
We’ll arrange ourselves into something much like the attached sketch (click on it to expand). The exact size will depend on the number of people signed up. With 1,000 people, the image will be approximately 250 feet across -- if larger numbers sign up, we'll expand the image size. (The organizer has strong doubts about being able to color-coordinate the image, but several people have encouraged him to attempt this, and he’s mulling that over. More to follow as date approaches.)
BRING: A blanket, tarp, poncho to lie down on. Water is a good idea.
BACKGROUND:
This event is an outgrowth of the Beach Impeach events organized by Brad in 2007. Each of those events attracted between 1,000 and 1,500 people of all ages and shapes and shades. The overwhelming atmosphere was peaceful, playful, and very moving and memorable. As dead-serious as the Gulf crisis is, expect to have fun on June 26.
FUTURE:
Brad is planning for a similar event each year, near the summer solstice (calendar shows a full moon on June 26 at 11:32 a.m). If any “excess” money is received this year, he’ll use it on future events. If you are (or if you know) a teacher looking for a real-life project for your class to take on, please contact me. I’d love to “hand-off” this project to an appropriate group.
Thanks, and hope to see you soon.
Brad Newsham
newsham@mac.com
415-305-8294
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GOOSEBUMPS!
HANDS ACROSS THE SAND -- Sat, Jun 26 -- Ocean Beach -- 10:30 a.m.
NOTE: I’m posting this to all four of my online outlets. If you recognize the first paragraph, you should stop. You’ve probably already read it.
Cab Shift #58 of the year
Friday, June 25 – Here, there, everywhere…
I COME WIDE AWAKE at 3:40 a.m., and there’s no way I can kid myself that I’m going to get back to sleep. Too much on my mind. The helicopter, the photographer, will the walkie-talkies work, is anyone coming?
By 4:20 I’m pulling my car through the gates of the Green Cab lot at 16th and South Van Ness. This is my first day back at work after a twelve-day absense. I spent last week in Minnesota with my family, and this week I’ve been organizing this helter-skelter event that’s taking place, geez, tomorrow!
At the side of the lot I see two of my Green Cab buddies talking together. One has been a cab driver for 30 years (five years longer than me) and the other is still a youngster who hasn’t finished his first year quite yet. It feels good to be back, good to see these guys again, and I slide into the conversation. The veteran is assuring the rookie that Gay Pride Weekend is going to be great -- the money’s going to be fantastic, and hell no, you don’t have to worry about all those out-of-town gay people hitting on you. You can have fun with that, bro!
I have a faux-hillbilly accent that comes in handy sometimes, and now I look the rookie in the eye and drawl, “You shore are a good-lookin’ man, Mister Cab Driver…”
It works. Suddenly I can see the back of the rookie’s neck. Actually, I can see the backs of both drivers’ necks, as they’re both bent double now, heads down around their knees, helpless from a double-case of the guffaws.
My god, it’s good to be back here, back in this pool of yellow cast by the streetlights at 4:30 a.m, catty-corner from the all-night gas station, one block from the all-night melodramas outside the BART station, in this gritty neighborhood that’s starting to somehow feel like home.
BY 5:04 a.m. I’m trolling slowly along Market Street, which is totally empty except for one guy jogging along toward 9th Street. He’s no athlete -- he’s a middle-aged Chinese man wearing loafers and a v-neck sweater -- and I wonder why he’s jogging at this hour. And then a MUNI bus overtakes us from behind and passes us. The jogger picks up his speed into a near-sprint, and I see that he’s hoping to catch the bus when it stops up ahead at 9th Street and Market. I think he’s going to make it. He’s almost there, he’s at the rear of the bus, but now the light goes green and the bus quickly jumps forward, gone, and the jogger’s shoulders slump and his whole body goes almost boneless, and then I pull up alongside him and say, “Hey, come on. I’ll catch your bus for you for free. Hop in.” He’s doesn’t resist at all. When I ask where he’s headed, he says he’s only going four blocks. He’s very happy when I drop him in front of his destination. I do love the bus zone hero move -- it only presents itself a few times a year, but it’s a great way to start a day.
I’M EMPTY FOR THE NEXT HOUR AND A HALF. At 6:35 I see an attractive young woman in a bus zone at Haight and Masonic. I’m on the opposite side of the street from her, and I cruise a block and a half to where I can make a legal U-turn and then pull back around. Now she’s standing ten feet from the curb, looking past me toward where that darn bus should be coming along. I stop right next to her, roll down my window, and say, “Every day I give away one free ride. Would you like to be my free ride today?”
She smiles. She would in fact like that very much. She’s a nurse headed up to work at UCSF Medical Center. She grew up in Boston, she’s been a nurse for four years, she’s happy to have a stable profession: health care. She’s not been a big soccer fan until just recently, but just yesterday morning her soccer fan-ness, like my own soccer fan-ness, took a huge needle jump when Landon Donavan’s goal put the USA into the World Cup’s round of sixteen. She tries to pass some money over the backseat -- “It’s about what I’d have paid for the bus,” she says -- but I refuse. A free ride is a free ride. She understands. With a smile.
A FAIR PORTION of my day is taken up by attending to details for tomorrow’s Hand’s Across the Sand / Slash Oil event. I stop by the Park Service office and get a copy of the event permit that I’ve misplaced. At the Fillmore Street Kinko’s I fax out about ten final press releases. I call Channel 7 (they’ve put up their own helicopter for two of my events in the past) and bend their ears a bit. At the Chestnut Street Apple store I send a confirmation email to our helicopter pilot. I check the sign-up site -- four new people have registered for the event; two others have sent me emails saying that they are coming, but they’re not registering. I stop by the house of our photographer, John Montgomery, and we go over our strategy for tomorrow. I stop at Safeway for some last minute supplies.
For much of the day, the weather has been thick and kind of ugly, but what can you do about the weather? I think I’m as ready as I’ve been for any event I’ve ever organized, which means I’m only about half-crazy instead of three-quarters crazy. About five p.m. yesterday evening I realized that yesterday -- a day full of agonizing organizing details -- was in fact my 15th wedding anniversary! “We can celebrate another night,” my sweet wife told me.
BY MID-AFTERNOON I’M COOKED, but heading back to the yard I am flagged at 14th and Dolores by a man whose name I will soon learn is Sam. I pull over and tell him, “I’m at the end of my shift. Where are you headed?”
Sam’s only going a few blocks past the yard, and that works perfectly for me.
“How,” he asks me, “did this ugly day suddenly turn so beautiful?” Here in the Mission, the overhead sky has transformed into pure blue silk; back toward the beach we can still see looming white fog.
“I’m planning a big outdoor event tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’m hoping for this stuff instead of that stuff.”
He: “That thing out at Ocean Beach?”
I hold up a flyer that’s lying on my front seat. He glances at it and says, “I’m going to that! You organized that?”
Me: “How’d you hear of it?” I’m as flabbergasted as Sam is.
He: “My sister. We’re bringing a bunch of people. And I don’t even know how she heard of it.”
We talk Oil for a while, and then he’s got a lot of questions about the event, mostly about money. I tell him I’ve put up about $3,000 to make it all happen. I tell him that during the second, third, and fourth Beach Impeach events someone passed a donation bucket around for me. “Those events cost me almost exactly $12,000 altogether,” I tell him, “and the donations came to almost exactly $12,000 altogether.”
He’s impressed, just as I was. I tell him about the address label buckets that’ll be on the beach tomorrow (for anyone who would like to receive a postcard), and how I’m hoping that people might put in something else, too. He says, “Man, if everyone just put in $5, it ought to work out.”
“Either way,” I say. “I feel like I’m loaded in the barrell of a cannon, the fuse is lit, and I’m just hoping to enjoy the ride and survive.”
This has seemed an auspicious, ride -- my last ride before the event! It’s given me more than hope -- it’s given me goosebumps. I decide that I can’t let Sam pay, but at ride’s end, as I vaporize the numbers on the meter ($7.60) and turn to tell him, he beats me to the punch. “This is for the donation bucket,” he says, and hands me a twenty.
What can I say? Only Thank you! Sam and I promise to look for each other tomorrow.
And I’m hoping to see you, too, if you can make it!
NOTE: I’m posting this to all four of my online outlets. If you recognize the first paragraph, you should stop. You’ve probably already read it.
Cab Shift #58 of the year
Friday, June 25 – Here, there, everywhere…
I COME WIDE AWAKE at 3:40 a.m., and there’s no way I can kid myself that I’m going to get back to sleep. Too much on my mind. The helicopter, the photographer, will the walkie-talkies work, is anyone coming?
By 4:20 I’m pulling my car through the gates of the Green Cab lot at 16th and South Van Ness. This is my first day back at work after a twelve-day absense. I spent last week in Minnesota with my family, and this week I’ve been organizing this helter-skelter event that’s taking place, geez, tomorrow!
At the side of the lot I see two of my Green Cab buddies talking together. One has been a cab driver for 30 years (five years longer than me) and the other is still a youngster who hasn’t finished his first year quite yet. It feels good to be back, good to see these guys again, and I slide into the conversation. The veteran is assuring the rookie that Gay Pride Weekend is going to be great -- the money’s going to be fantastic, and hell no, you don’t have to worry about all those out-of-town gay people hitting on you. You can have fun with that, bro!
I have a faux-hillbilly accent that comes in handy sometimes, and now I look the rookie in the eye and drawl, “You shore are a good-lookin’ man, Mister Cab Driver…”
It works. Suddenly I can see the back of the rookie’s neck. Actually, I can see the backs of both drivers’ necks, as they’re both bent double now, heads down around their knees, helpless from a double-case of the guffaws.
My god, it’s good to be back here, back in this pool of yellow cast by the streetlights at 4:30 a.m, catty-corner from the all-night gas station, one block from the all-night melodramas outside the BART station, in this gritty neighborhood that’s starting to somehow feel like home.
BY 5:04 a.m. I’m trolling slowly along Market Street, which is totally empty except for one guy jogging along toward 9th Street. He’s no athlete -- he’s a middle-aged Chinese man wearing loafers and a v-neck sweater -- and I wonder why he’s jogging at this hour. And then a MUNI bus overtakes us from behind and passes us. The jogger picks up his speed into a near-sprint, and I see that he’s hoping to catch the bus when it stops up ahead at 9th Street and Market. I think he’s going to make it. He’s almost there, he’s at the rear of the bus, but now the light goes green and the bus quickly jumps forward, gone, and the jogger’s shoulders slump and his whole body goes almost boneless, and then I pull up alongside him and say, “Hey, come on. I’ll catch your bus for you for free. Hop in.” He’s doesn’t resist at all. When I ask where he’s headed, he says he’s only going four blocks. He’s very happy when I drop him in front of his destination. I do love the bus zone hero move -- it only presents itself a few times a year, but it’s a great way to start a day.
I’M EMPTY FOR THE NEXT HOUR AND A HALF. At 6:35 I see an attractive young woman in a bus zone at Haight and Masonic. I’m on the opposite side of the street from her, and I cruise a block and a half to where I can make a legal U-turn and then pull back around. Now she’s standing ten feet from the curb, looking past me toward where that darn bus should be coming along. I stop right next to her, roll down my window, and say, “Every day I give away one free ride. Would you like to be my free ride today?”
She smiles. She would in fact like that very much. She’s a nurse headed up to work at UCSF Medical Center. She grew up in Boston, she’s been a nurse for four years, she’s happy to have a stable profession: health care. She’s not been a big soccer fan until just recently, but just yesterday morning her soccer fan-ness, like my own soccer fan-ness, took a huge needle jump when Landon Donavan’s goal put the USA into the World Cup’s round of sixteen. She tries to pass some money over the backseat -- “It’s about what I’d have paid for the bus,” she says -- but I refuse. A free ride is a free ride. She understands. With a smile.
A FAIR PORTION of my day is taken up by attending to details for tomorrow’s Hand’s Across the Sand / Slash Oil event. I stop by the Park Service office and get a copy of the event permit that I’ve misplaced. At the Fillmore Street Kinko’s I fax out about ten final press releases. I call Channel 7 (they’ve put up their own helicopter for two of my events in the past) and bend their ears a bit. At the Chestnut Street Apple store I send a confirmation email to our helicopter pilot. I check the sign-up site -- four new people have registered for the event; two others have sent me emails saying that they are coming, but they’re not registering. I stop by the house of our photographer, John Montgomery, and we go over our strategy for tomorrow. I stop at Safeway for some last minute supplies.
For much of the day, the weather has been thick and kind of ugly, but what can you do about the weather? I think I’m as ready as I’ve been for any event I’ve ever organized, which means I’m only about half-crazy instead of three-quarters crazy. About five p.m. yesterday evening I realized that yesterday -- a day full of agonizing organizing details -- was in fact my 15th wedding anniversary! “We can celebrate another night,” my sweet wife told me.
BY MID-AFTERNOON I’M COOKED, but heading back to the yard I am flagged at 14th and Dolores by a man whose name I will soon learn is Sam. I pull over and tell him, “I’m at the end of my shift. Where are you headed?”
Sam’s only going a few blocks past the yard, and that works perfectly for me.
“How,” he asks me, “did this ugly day suddenly turn so beautiful?” Here in the Mission, the overhead sky has transformed into pure blue silk; back toward the beach we can still see looming white fog.
“I’m planning a big outdoor event tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’m hoping for this stuff instead of that stuff.”
He: “That thing out at Ocean Beach?”
I hold up a flyer that’s lying on my front seat. He glances at it and says, “I’m going to that! You organized that?”
Me: “How’d you hear of it?” I’m as flabbergasted as Sam is.
He: “My sister. We’re bringing a bunch of people. And I don’t even know how she heard of it.”
We talk Oil for a while, and then he’s got a lot of questions about the event, mostly about money. I tell him I’ve put up about $3,000 to make it all happen. I tell him that during the second, third, and fourth Beach Impeach events someone passed a donation bucket around for me. “Those events cost me almost exactly $12,000 altogether,” I tell him, “and the donations came to almost exactly $12,000 altogether.”
He’s impressed, just as I was. I tell him about the address label buckets that’ll be on the beach tomorrow (for anyone who would like to receive a postcard), and how I’m hoping that people might put in something else, too. He says, “Man, if everyone just put in $5, it ought to work out.”
“Either way,” I say. “I feel like I’m loaded in the barrell of a cannon, the fuse is lit, and I’m just hoping to enjoy the ride and survive.”
This has seemed an auspicious, ride -- my last ride before the event! It’s given me more than hope -- it’s given me goosebumps. I decide that I can’t let Sam pay, but at ride’s end, as I vaporize the numbers on the meter ($7.60) and turn to tell him, he beats me to the punch. “This is for the donation bucket,” he says, and hands me a twenty.
What can I say? Only Thank you! Sam and I promise to look for each other tomorrow.
And I’m hoping to see you, too, if you can make it!
Tick, tick, tick...
11 p.m. -- Thursday, June 24 -- 36 hours to go
YOU KNOW, back during our Beach Impeach year, 2007, we'd certainly have cancelled an event that had just 176 confirmations, but this is entirely different. We've got the MoveOn email to its membership (not the 3 million people I reported earlier, but 5 million!). We've got the Hands Across the Sand website sending unknown numbers our way. I'm getting emails from people saying they're coming but haven't signed up, and I've also been getting emails from people in obscure corners of my life, people not on this list, saying they've heard about our Saturday plans. I'll be almost shocked if there are less than 500 people there, and I think it's entirely possible that we might have a tsunami (of people) roll in. We shall see. In about 36 hours.
I haven't checked the weather, but it's been not-nice here the last few days -- dress warmly if you're coming on Saturday. The helicopter's scheduled arrival (11:25 - 11:30 a.m.) is starting to look like an auspicious time. My almanac says the moon will be exactly full at 11:32 a.m. (not visible here, of course). And the phenomenal US soccer team plays Ghana at 11:30 (you can catch the last hour in the bar at the Beach Chalet Restaurant). But it seems like quite some convergence brewing. We shall see.
Sleep well...
YOU KNOW, back during our Beach Impeach year, 2007, we'd certainly have cancelled an event that had just 176 confirmations, but this is entirely different. We've got the MoveOn email to its membership (not the 3 million people I reported earlier, but 5 million!). We've got the Hands Across the Sand website sending unknown numbers our way. I'm getting emails from people saying they're coming but haven't signed up, and I've also been getting emails from people in obscure corners of my life, people not on this list, saying they've heard about our Saturday plans. I'll be almost shocked if there are less than 500 people there, and I think it's entirely possible that we might have a tsunami (of people) roll in. We shall see. In about 36 hours.
I haven't checked the weather, but it's been not-nice here the last few days -- dress warmly if you're coming on Saturday. The helicopter's scheduled arrival (11:25 - 11:30 a.m.) is starting to look like an auspicious time. My almanac says the moon will be exactly full at 11:32 a.m. (not visible here, of course). And the phenomenal US soccer team plays Ghana at 11:30 (you can catch the last hour in the bar at the Beach Chalet Restaurant). But it seems like quite some convergence brewing. We shall see.
Sleep well...
TWEAK
Wednesday, June 23 -- Three days to go
TIME CHANGE
Thank you for your understanding.
It came to me a bit late in the game, but this morning I realized, "Hey, we're all in this together -- shouldn't we share 'our' helicopter!"
So, bottom line, I've moved the start time back approximately half an hour, and when we're done doing our thing at Ocean Beach, we'll send the helicopter to film the folks at the Hands Across the Sand events at China Beach and Crissy Field.
Please now shoot for a 10:30 a.m. arrival, and please DO arrive and have your spot selected no later than 11:00. The helicopter is now due to arrive overhead at approximately 11:25 - 11:30.
There will be an instruction sheet handout at the beach, explaining everything, but here's the gist:
After the helicopter arrives, our photographer, John Montgomery, will spend approximately ten minutes photographing above the Slash Oil image. As soon as we get the 'all-clear' signal, we'll all move down to the water's edge -- quickly, please -- spreading out in a long line, holding hands. If you are not so nimble, please take a direct route to the closest water. If you are plenty nimble, please head north or south along the beach so that we can create the longest line possible. When we've gotten ourselves into place, John will capture photos of this stage. I'm hoping that we can complete the Ocean Beach segment in 20-25 minutes from the time the helicopter arrives, and then we'll send it off to China Beach and Crissy Field. John expects to have the photos of all of these event posted online by sometime Saturday afternoon.
THE IMAGE
Oh, boy -- this is some new and tricky territory! The block letters of Beach Impeach were much simpler. I've spent much of my day hunched over my graph paper, ruler in hand, trying to remember long-lost geometry and math. I think I've got my head around it all now, but it's going to be pretty complicated, and I KNOW I'm going to need a lot of help stretching the long tape measures and pounding stakes and digging heels through sand to create the outline. I'll be there no later than 7 a.m. Any time after that that you can show up, I will do my best to put you to work. And if we (doubtful) have too many volunteers, you can do worse than hang out for a while at Ocean Beach.
I think I've got contingencies that will produce a worthy image even if the crowd is just 300, and I think we can probably handle 5,000 if that's how many show up -- and honest, I've got no real clue. Who knows?
TIME CHANGE
Thank you for your understanding.
It came to me a bit late in the game, but this morning I realized, "Hey, we're all in this together -- shouldn't we share 'our' helicopter!"
So, bottom line, I've moved the start time back approximately half an hour, and when we're done doing our thing at Ocean Beach, we'll send the helicopter to film the folks at the Hands Across the Sand events at China Beach and Crissy Field.
Please now shoot for a 10:30 a.m. arrival, and please DO arrive and have your spot selected no later than 11:00. The helicopter is now due to arrive overhead at approximately 11:25 - 11:30.
There will be an instruction sheet handout at the beach, explaining everything, but here's the gist:
After the helicopter arrives, our photographer, John Montgomery, will spend approximately ten minutes photographing above the Slash Oil image. As soon as we get the 'all-clear' signal, we'll all move down to the water's edge -- quickly, please -- spreading out in a long line, holding hands. If you are not so nimble, please take a direct route to the closest water. If you are plenty nimble, please head north or south along the beach so that we can create the longest line possible. When we've gotten ourselves into place, John will capture photos of this stage. I'm hoping that we can complete the Ocean Beach segment in 20-25 minutes from the time the helicopter arrives, and then we'll send it off to China Beach and Crissy Field. John expects to have the photos of all of these event posted online by sometime Saturday afternoon.
THE IMAGE
Oh, boy -- this is some new and tricky territory! The block letters of Beach Impeach were much simpler. I've spent much of my day hunched over my graph paper, ruler in hand, trying to remember long-lost geometry and math. I think I've got my head around it all now, but it's going to be pretty complicated, and I KNOW I'm going to need a lot of help stretching the long tape measures and pounding stakes and digging heels through sand to create the outline. I'll be there no later than 7 a.m. Any time after that that you can show up, I will do my best to put you to work. And if we (doubtful) have too many volunteers, you can do worse than hang out for a while at Ocean Beach.
I think I've got contingencies that will produce a worthy image even if the crowd is just 300, and I think we can probably handle 5,000 if that's how many show up -- and honest, I've got no real clue. Who knows?
The Elephant Weighs In
Tuesday, June 22 -- Four days to go
TODAY, while I was delivering 600 flyers door-to-door in the neighborhood around Ocean Beach, the elephant in the country, MoveOn.org, was sending emails to its 3 million members directing them to the Hands Across the Sand event nearest them.
I have NO IDEA idea what, if anything, this means for the size of the crowd that will be arriving at Ocean Beach on Saturday, but I always like to think that things are going to work out better than I could imagine, and, well, sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. As of right now, I'm just surrendering to whatever happens next between now and Saturday.
It was just about ten days ago that I first heard about Hands Across the Sand. At that time, there were some 350 Hands events scheduled worldwide (exact same day, almost the exact same time as our little Slash Oil event) including two or three dozen in California, three of them in San Francisco, one right at Ocean Beach. Today there are about 700 Hands events scheduled, including 640 in the USA, about 100 of them in California. The one at Ocean Beach -- ours -- well, it's on, capital ON.
I TOOK a half-hour break from my flyering today, went to the beach, and stepped off the borders of the Slash Oil image. I must tell you, organizing these things is a royal annoyance, but stepping out onto the beach -- oh, man, that's the payoff. I just love that beach, and it's a particular thrill to be there "by myself," trying to visualize it all, trying to imagine the crowd, trying to figure it all out. And then to see, later, what the actual result is. I can't wait to make the outline on Saturday morning. I'm going to need help. If you can come early, please do. I'll be there by 7, and I could use about a dozen assistants to outline the image. For Beach Impeach we had "letter captains," and while there are no letters this time, we're going to need folks willing to help with the crowd. If you folks can show up around 9:30, that would be fantastic.
I'VE RECEIVED several emails from people on this list who were alarmed that MoveOn.org had directed them to some event other than our Ocean Beach event. I suggest that everyone go to whichever event makes the most sense for them. We're all trying to bring awareness to, are trying to weigh in on, the same issue. But I will point out that (and any of you who attended a Beach Impeach event will have already thought of this) there is going to be one event out of all of these several hundred events, that will have an extra creative and artistic aspect to it. I wouldn't miss THIS one, even if I could.
Hope to see you there.
And hey, if you want to get a little inspired, really, check out the Hands website.
TODAY, while I was delivering 600 flyers door-to-door in the neighborhood around Ocean Beach, the elephant in the country, MoveOn.org, was sending emails to its 3 million members directing them to the Hands Across the Sand event nearest them.
I have NO IDEA idea what, if anything, this means for the size of the crowd that will be arriving at Ocean Beach on Saturday, but I always like to think that things are going to work out better than I could imagine, and, well, sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. As of right now, I'm just surrendering to whatever happens next between now and Saturday.
It was just about ten days ago that I first heard about Hands Across the Sand. At that time, there were some 350 Hands events scheduled worldwide (exact same day, almost the exact same time as our little Slash Oil event) including two or three dozen in California, three of them in San Francisco, one right at Ocean Beach. Today there are about 700 Hands events scheduled, including 640 in the USA, about 100 of them in California. The one at Ocean Beach -- ours -- well, it's on, capital ON.
I TOOK a half-hour break from my flyering today, went to the beach, and stepped off the borders of the Slash Oil image. I must tell you, organizing these things is a royal annoyance, but stepping out onto the beach -- oh, man, that's the payoff. I just love that beach, and it's a particular thrill to be there "by myself," trying to visualize it all, trying to imagine the crowd, trying to figure it all out. And then to see, later, what the actual result is. I can't wait to make the outline on Saturday morning. I'm going to need help. If you can come early, please do. I'll be there by 7, and I could use about a dozen assistants to outline the image. For Beach Impeach we had "letter captains," and while there are no letters this time, we're going to need folks willing to help with the crowd. If you folks can show up around 9:30, that would be fantastic.
I'VE RECEIVED several emails from people on this list who were alarmed that MoveOn.org had directed them to some event other than our Ocean Beach event. I suggest that everyone go to whichever event makes the most sense for them. We're all trying to bring awareness to, are trying to weigh in on, the same issue. But I will point out that (and any of you who attended a Beach Impeach event will have already thought of this) there is going to be one event out of all of these several hundred events, that will have an extra creative and artistic aspect to it. I wouldn't miss THIS one, even if I could.
Hope to see you there.
And hey, if you want to get a little inspired, really, check out the Hands website.
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