The Bachelor: Tierra del Fuego

BOOM with that headline.  See what I did there?

So it appears the Montana Tourism Board or whatever has ponied up because we're off to Big Sky Country which admittedly does look nice and it's a shame it's wasted on these idiots.  First Solo Date is with Drunk Lindsay, who I kinda love.  It appears to be morning but Linzshy may already have been hittin' the bottle, based on her first question of the day.

No, Linds, it's a Vertical Powered Drinks Elevator!  CLIMB ON IT AND LET'S GET SCHWAAASTED.  As if the White Man hasn't visited enough indignities on the Native Peoples, we're off to the Blackfeet Reservation for a picnic at which nothing happens and then YOINK commercial and then POW it's nighttime and Big Dumb Sean is toasting the "incredible" day they had and I guess that part was edited out.  Time for Lindsay, who is only at about half-slur, to talk about her childhood and here it comes ABSENT DADDY was off in the War and that's why we're so clingy and Blood Alcohol Content-y.  She gets a rose and then we stroll into Downtown Whitefish for a concert by Wendy Darling or something and the Happy Couple can dance on an elevated platform above the massed citizenry of Whitefish.  How come it's always country?  Why can't we ever have scenes of the happy couple dancing to dubstep or witch house?

Group date.  Apparently Arabic is in a turban of some kind and looks like LADY GINA - ALL QUESTIONS ANSWERED - PAST PRESENT FUTURE - or maybe Joan Crawford in "Mommie Dearest."

I don't have a picture of Selma's headdress so just use your imagination.

The gals are headed out for some Outdoor Activities and there are some goats imprisoned in crude wooden devices and shit's about to go DOWN and one of the pack goes "Oh my goodness are those dogs?"  That really happened.  I rewound it 4 times to make sure.  I hope to fuck someone just said "Yes" and let it go so whoever it was can tell the story of how she milked a dog for the rest of her life.  ANYWAY, this turns into one of those bullshit team competitions with canoes and moving hay from place to another and then goat milking and then Desiree chugging a jar of goat milk and then VOMITING SPECTACULARLY right into Daniella's weave oh no wait that last part didn't happen.  I mean, the chugging did but not the vomiting.  Des takes her goat juice like a champ.  In fact, S. says "You took it like a champ."  I'm just leaving that here.

So at night we're in some bar or restaurant and the winners get to spend the eve with S. except he feels bad and INVITES ALL THE LOSERS TO COME TOO.  What the fuck is the point of having a competition then?  Desiree looks stricken, because she just poured a quart of raw unpasteurized warm goat fluid down her throat FOR NO FUCKING REASON AT ALL.  Selma and her turban are fucking FURIOUS.  I'm with you, girl!  Let's put on our suicide vests together, my Desert Flower, and blow this thing straight to hell.  Oh here comes Tierra too.  She wasn't even on this date but here she comes sneaking up on S while he's trying to do his interviews.  Do you really want to marry this stalker bitch?  Like what happens when you go to Bowling Night?  She's gonna pop up behind the ball rack or be watching from the parking lot, slowly plunging a knife into the seat and repeating "You are mine, my dear. Come back to Mommy."  Meanwhile, back at the bar, it's Daniella's turn to get all weepy and insecure and naturally this gets her a rose.

OK, 2 on 1 date with Tierra and Jackie and let's not kid ourselves, there is NO FUCKING WAY Jackie is going to be the winner here.  The producers obviously love the fuck out of Tierra because she's a nutbar.  Anyway, we start with some horseback riding or whatever and then J. gets Sean alone and tells him some story about Tierra flirting with someone in an airport? Or something? This is supposed to have some effect, I guess?  Here's a tip, Jacks, skip the story about Tierra being nice to the skycap and maybe focus on her OBVIOUS PERSONALITY DISORDER.  Later after dinner it's time for Tierra to tell her story.  Oh, OK, I see now.  She was with some guy who was in and out of rehab and then died.  Or else he tried to go to the movies without her once!  I would take a good look at that autopsy.  Anyway, Jackie, we hardly knew ye.  You have just become Tierra's Next Victim.

C-Party.  Oh fuck, we have to do this 2 nights in a row.  That's just starting to sink in.  Anyway, Des has finally figured out the way to stick around is to act crazy and desperate, so she gives that a shot but then kinda fucks it up by talking smack about Tierra.  Oh, right on cue, Tierra is in mid-tirade when Sean just happens to walk by, nudge nudge, as she's in the midst of a complicated metaphor in which she is the scorpion and everyone else is a shoe to hide in or something I didn't catch the end.  Anyway, S. tries to get the dirt on the T-Monster but all Lesley can manage is that she's cold and unfriendly.  That should do it, great job girls.

Finally we get to the fucking rose ceremony.  Who are our lucky winners this week?  Apparently Arabic, Ambiguously Ethnic Catherine, Chipmunk Cheeks, AdopTee, One Arm, and Katie Holmes.  Sorry, Other Black Girl, your time has come.

NEXT WEEK:  Next week is fucking TONIGHT.  Ugh, for fuck's sake.  Why do you do this to me, ABC?  Fuck you.

Here are your prop bets for this year's Super Bowl

Phil Simms says something stupid within first 10 minutes   3-1
Within the first half                                                           10-9
At some point during the game                                         OFF
Someone at your Super Bowl party loudly proclaims 
they "don't watch football"                                                9-5
It's a girl                                                                           3-2
This is in San Francisco                                                    11-10
Akers misses a field goal                                                  PICK
Daisy posts a picture of herself crying                               2-1
CBS shows split-screen shot of Harbaugh brothers          5-3
Player mentions God in postgame interview                      1-10
Jim Nantz recounts Ray Lewis murder story                     50-1
Beyonce suffers wardrobe malfunction                             YOU WISH
Ravens lose; hacky headline writer uses "Nevermore"       3-2
Randy Moss scores touchdown                                        4-1
Randy Moss is insufferable in some way                            9-6
I am insufferable in some way                                            OFF

This doesn't make any sense at all

Strange doings in beautiful Fontana (IRONY, Fontana is not beautiful):

The Fontana Unified School District Police Department purchased 14 AR-15 assault weapons to protect students in response to recent shootings across the country, but some school leaders and citizens think it’s a step in the wrong direction.

FUSD Superintendent Cali Olsen-Binks approved the acquisition of the rifles, which are being stored on campuses in locked safes for responding police officers in the event of an attack.

Wait a minute.  Let's leave aside the larger argument about whether it's a good idea to turn schools into armories like they're the sets of Die Hard 8: Die Harder Than Fuck Calculus Problems, because people that think that heavily armed schools are good will think that and people who think that schools should generally be free of assault weapons will think that.  PUSSIES.  Oh, sorry.  Anyway, no matter how you cut it, THIS DON'T MAKE ANY DAMN SENSE.

Read it again.  The AR-15s will be kept in locked safes on campus for responding officers.  A few thoughts:

1. What if the School Shooter who this is apparently designed to address is somewhere between the doorway of the school and the Locked Safes?  Those AR-15s won't be doing much good.  But, bigger issue:

2. DON'T FONTANA POLICE OFFICERS HAVE THEIR OWN GUNS?  I mean, REALLY?  They have to rely on potential shooting targets to supply their own firepower?  Doesn't this imply that every 7-Eleven in Fontana should have a couple of AKs in a locked safe, just in case they're robbed?  If the Fontana Police don't have their own guns, for Chrissake, BUY THE POLICE SOME FUCKING GUNS, not the schools.  If there's one group of people I don't mind seeing armed, it's the police.

3. I would seriously look into any financial ties between "FUSD Superintendent Cali Olsen-Binks" and whoever is supplying the guns.  I wouldn't be surprised if the owner of the local gun reseller is Mr. Cali Olsen-Binks.

The Bachelor: "Here For the Right Reasons" makes a surprising and welcome return

I'm going to jump right in and elide over the weekly gratuitous shirtless Sean establishing shots and get right to solo date with Apparently Arabic Selma who we learn quickly is Actually Arabic Selma from Iraq and is almost certainly going to be honor killed after this episode.  The prospect of this solo date leaves Big Mouth Billy Bass in tears for some reason but FORESHADOWING.  Anyway, Big Dumb Sean and Apparently Arabic are off in a private jet and Selma makes a lot of references about how she could get used to this and she seems generally a little gold-diggery.  They're off to the desert, so Selma should feel right at home!  Oh, she doesn't like the desert.  I guess you can take the girl out of Iraq and can take Iraq out of the girl after all.  They hike about 50 feet from the parking lot and AA is already bitching about the heat and the snakes and she would be the worst insurgent ever.  "My AK-47 is SOOOO HEAVYYYYY!" "This keffiyeh is ruining my makeup!" Anyway, they do some rock climbing and AA proves to be some kind of rock climbing savant but bitches the whole way.

Night brings us to some kind of kitschy faux trailer park that a little Googling reveals to be "Hicksville Trailer Palace and Artist Retreat" in Joshua Tree.  Here it's time for outdoor drinks and no food and no kissing because AA's Mom is watching and will stroke out if she kisses anyone on TV.  Mom didn't agree with her being on the show and Mom is now the most rational person we've heard about.  So there's a lot of G-rated cuddling and a long conversation about how they wish they could kiss and I wish for a speedy and painless death.

Next we have assembled a bunch of the chicks in the mimosa limo and we're off to a group date.  What do you think we'll do?  Maybe solve some simple math problems?  No, I'm kidding.  It's something they can actually do: roller derby!  I bet Lindsay's down with anything if there's booze involved.  Hey, tangent, but what the fuck is up with Tierra's forehead?

Maybe she Pinterested this:

Anyway, let's get to some roller skating.  Poor One Armed Sarah isn't very good and starts crying.  Now I feel bad!  I can't roller skate either, Sarah!  It gets better.  Anyway, AshLee stops by for a pep talk.  "Hey, at least you weren't passed around foster families like a rototiller!"  There, that's better.

BOOM!  Amanda goes down.  On skates, I mean.  Get that thought out of your head.  She hits her chin and the medics think it might be broken and some 12-year-old intern takes her off to the hospital.  The whole incident scares the Bachelor Insurance Carrier and so roller derby is canceled in favor of "free skate" to "Foolish Heart" by Journey and now everyone feels nauseous, not just Amanda.  Night brings us to the roof of the downtown Roosevelt and Lindsay's slurring already!  I love that boozer.  Oh, here comes Amanda!  No broken jaw.  Maybe some meds, though!

Meanwhile, somebody forgot to pack Tierra's apple slices and peanut butter because girl is having a meltdown!  Just as Lindsay manages to slur out "Joo bnringya baving soot?" and get bikini'd up to hit the hot tub, here comes fucking Tierra to stage an Uncool Intervention and blubbers to S about something I'm not sure what I got bored and started checking Twitter.  Then he gives her a rose!  WTF!  You're not supposed to reward bad behavior!  He should have swatted her on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.  BAD DOG, TIERRA.

Next up: Solo Date with Big Mouth Billy Bass.  They take off in one of the producers' midlife crisis/trophy wife bait car to do some shopping at something called Badgley Mischka and I have some bad news BMBB, they have dresses on their website for like 300 bucks so it's not like ABC had to siphon their Cayman account for this spree.  WOOOO, A THOUSAND DOLLARS! WHEEEE.  Dinner is in some abandoned warehouse/set for "Hostel: Part IV, The Cringing."  There's no spark and BMBB is shown the door but not before warning him that some girls are not Here For The Right Reasons!  I've missed you, Here For The Right Reasons.  Let's not fight ever again.

Scenes from the cocktail party: Other Black Girl makes semi-dirty chocolate references. Tierra continues to be in Low Blood Sugar Crazy mode.  Hilariously, she tries to get street when she talks to OBG and wants to "squash it."  OK, Tierra, we get it, we saw that Afterschool Special too.  Ambiguously Ethnic Catherine oddly hands him a card with a lipstick print on it.  WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO SIGNIFY.  Tierra stares into the camera.  She is becoming Bane from the Batman movie before our eyes.  "You must be strong and get what you want," she says.  "Destroy your enemy. True strength comes from within. Now I need to moisturize."

Here are the ones he has decided to keep: Ambiguously Ethnic Catherine. Katie Holmes. Drunk Lindsay. Bug Eyes, OBG, AdopTee, One Arm, Sucka Freee, and Just Jackie.  Sorry, Amanda!  Back to Newport Beach to resume your Fit Model lifestyle.

NEXT WEEK: Oh for fuck's sake, 2 nights in a row?  Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck.

Where in the Mission was this taken?

In 1970, San Francisco rock and roll band The Grateful Dead released an album called "Workingman's Dead."  It did moderately well, eventually reaching #27 on the Billboard album chart and was certified gorld (i.e., 500,000 copies sold) a few years later, in 1974.  Even if you don't especially like the Grateful Dead, the album is essentially harmless, a pleasant collection of stoner country-rock that makes a perfect accompaniment to a Sunday morning making brunch after smoking a couple of bowls.

The cover photo of the band was taken somewhere in the Mission District of San Francisco.

Here's how Blair Jackson, Jerry Garcia's biographer and a longtime writer about the Dead, described the shot:

Artist Alton Kelley says that the title and concept for the cover was his: "I wanted to make it look real utilitarian," he said. "We took the picture with a little Brownie. You couldn't get that funky a photograph with a good camera. We went out intentionally with an old camera to do it. They stood on that old street corner somewhere in the Mission District [of San Francisco]. And they were bitching and griping about having to stand out in the street looking like that, getting their picture taken. That's why it came out so well! Billy got so pissed off he just went back and sat in a doorway. We were at a bus stop and he was actually going to get on the next bus!"

Yesterday, whoever the shadowy, mysterious figure is who runs the indispensable SF_Historian Twitter account wondered if anyone could help him locate where the shot was taken.

Treasure hunt: can you identify where in SF this picture was taken? I've tried and failed. Likely Mission/Castro area: tinyurl.com/akc9n8p
— SF_Historian (@SF_Historian) January 24, 2013

No one's figured it out yet, although some good additional information has come to light, like this photo from the same session:

What are those things over on the left?  They look like gas storage tanks to me.  Pastmapper suggests that the tanks will be found in this 1968 aerial photo of the Mission.  Feel free to put on a loupe and scan away, my marginally employed friends!

Some people have suggested that the corner doorway looks like the Homestead at 19th and Folsom, but I'm not convinced.  The rest of the wall looking down 19th doesn't look like it, and that Victorian house doesn't match.

We should also point out that this guy is so into this problem he bought a Muni map from the 60's and then followed all the routes on Street View looking for it because of the bus stop part of the anecdote above.  So far, no luck.

So what do you think, guys?  Recognize the spot?  Any ideas?  Anyone want to go out today and make an exhaustive survey of every corner-facing doorway in the Mission?

POSTSCRIPT:  Of course, the real question here is WHY.  Why do we want to find out where this picture was taken?  Well, it would be interesting to know, as a historical (or "an historical," if you're from New York) curiosity.  But I really want to find it so I can get 6 friends together and recreate it exactly, IF YOU MUST KNOW.

Hey here's a question about giving up your seat on public transpo

GIVING UP YOUR SEAT ON PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.  I know, seventy billion hits, right?  The only way I could stir up more interest would be to change this to "Giving up your seat to someone WITH A BIKE in San Francisco" or "Giving up your seat to GAY MARRIAGE SOLYNDRA GUN CONTROL."

ANYWAY.  I was going to do a whole Urban Etiquette post about Proper Behavior on Public Transpo but frankly I don't have the time and a topic like that requires book-length soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture treatment.  TRANSIT FUCKS II: TAKE OFF YOUR FUCKING BACKPACK, in theaters this summer.

So let's confine ourselves to one specific topic: Giving up your seat.  Who do you give up your seat for?  I have a few basic categories that I always jump up to accommodate:

1. Any woman who appears to be at least 20 years older than me

Now, keep in mind, I'm pretty old, so we're talking the headscarf & dentures crowd here.  If you're young enough to not feel inappropriate at Delirium, you can probably adjust this to any woman who appears to be 40 years older than you.

2. Any old man who looks like he needs a seat

If he has gray hair but looks robust and vital, he can stand.  If he has a cane or is wheeling a portable oxygen cylinder, be my guest.

3. Anyone who appears to be pregnant or have a physical disability of some type or who at least says they do and asks

Although honestly, in 22 years of riding Muni, I have never once had anyone ask for my seat.  I never sit in those seats in the front reserved for the handicapped, though.  I always get up for the pregs.  Now that The Wife is one of them, she says that the only people who offer their seats are other womyn.  WHAT UP DUDES, why so thoughtless?  She's pregnant!  Get the fuck up! 

Other situations are handled on a case-by-case basis.  Like if some chick is struggling with a heavy parcel of some type, I'll usually at least offer. 

So here's my dilemma: WHAT ABOUT KIDS. 

This morning, a woman gets on with 2 kids and they're standing there and one guy gives up his seat and the girl in the seat next to him vacates at the next stop, so the kids get the seats with the Mom standing next to them.

So here's the question: when a Mom or Dad gets on with toddler-or-above-age kids, kids that can clearly stand and walk on their own, do you give up your seat for them?  I mean, if a Mom or Dad has a very young kid they're holding, it's a duh, of course you give up your seat.  But what if the kid is like the age of these kids above? 

Complicating this in my mind is the fact that I saw a sticker someone stuck to the inside of a bus once that said "YOUR KIDS CAN STAND. GIVE ADULTS THE SEAT."  Really!  That really happened.  Isn't that so, so San Francisco?  So many layers.

So what's the right call here?  I'm genuinely curious.

This has been your Obsessing Over a Very Minor Thing of the Day.

The Bachelor: Magic Mountain Not So Magical

After our standard establishing shots of the Bachelor mansion and Sean's chiseled abs, we are informed that our night will begin with a Solo Date with Lesley, the semi-adorable bug-eyed "political consultant" from somewhere in the South by way of DC.  And like any good tourist in LA, they're off to the Guinness World Records Museum. (Yelp rating: 2 stars. "The supervisor who says his name is Mr. Casey and weighs about 280 lbs holds the Guinness World Record for most angry person at people who have coupons for entry." SICK BURN.  But if you're using a coupon to get into the Guinness Museum, you have little room to cast aspersions, my friend.) Guinness World Record museums are a feature in any tourist dump like Hollywood Boulevard or Fisherman's Wharf or Gatlinburg TN.  They're the museum equivalent of funnel cakes or glitter t-shirts.

A N Y W A Y, here comes Chris Harrison to inform the lucky couple that they will be attempting to break the world record for longest on-screen kiss.  It appears that the producers have done a good job of sweeping Hollywood Boulevard of the usual Dregs Of Humanity and maybe even tossed a hobo 10 bucks to fill out the crowd behind Chris.

The record, it turns out, is 3 minutes and 15 seconds and we have to sit through it and that's a long time in Bachelor Years and Holy Jesus am I glad Sober January is almost over.  Watching this show under any circumstances is a burden to man or beast, but doing it sober is an exquisite Guantanamo-type torture.  I guess they win or whatever.  For the Night Portion, they repair to the roof of the Roosy and instead of blowing rails and banging 19-year-old aspiring "actresses" from Cedar Rapids like usually happens at the Roosevelt, they have champagne and make out.  I guess the fireworks budget is all out because the date ends with a fucking CONFETTI CANNON like what is this, a 6-year-old's birthday party? Why not have a clown or a Bug Guy and be done with it?

GROUP DATE TIME.  Sean is on the beach wearing an aqua tank top and Ray Bans like he's the villain in an 80's college movie.  Frolicking ensues, until Chris Harrison appears again.  He has 2 days of stubble and is still drunk from last night.  He announces a cutthroat game of volleyball.  The winners will get precious time with Sean.  The losers will be forced to watch The Bachelor.  No one is very good at volleyball.  Manface begins weeping.  Oh, now Big Mouth Billy Bass is crying too!  Luckily her mouth will catch those tears, along with any catawba worms in a five-foot radius.  Memo to the producers: Not picking One Armed Sarah for this event constitutes Cruelty to Viewers.  Come on son.

For the Night Portion, the "winners" all hang out with Sean and drink.  Drunk Lindsay says he's everything she's looking for and she's getting a little weird and obsessive.  Meanwhile, Desiree, who has her hair done up like she's the secretary in a noir movie, says "I think differently I think than a lot of people" and I'm sure you do sweetie.  She enjoys the beauty of life and is happy every day!  So does a Yorkshire terrier, for that matter.  Meanwhile, there is some feud between Amanda and Desiree and who really gives a fuck but Kacie decides she's gonna go tell Sean about it and if there's one thing you learn on this show it's that snitches always get capped so this is extra-dumb even by Kacie standards. 

Solo date with AshLee the AdopTee.  But before we can begin, OH NO Tierra has taken a nasty tumble on the stairs.  Sean shows up and "as a guy who's had several concussions" diagnoses T with one too.  OH I BET YOU HAVE SEAN.  Anyway, she refuses medical attention and I guess the whole thing is a ploy?  Whatever.  On to the date.  Let's go to the orphanage and do some window shopping!  No, we're going to Magic Mountain.  The producers have bought out the place and they have it all to themselves like they're Michael Jackson.  Oh, wait, here come couple of Sickly Kids, Brianna and Emily.  Brianna is clearly in a bad way but Emily looks FINE except for some of those carpal tunnel cuffs and I mean I hate to sound judgy but Repetitive Stress Injury is hardly Make A Wish Foundation material, Emily.  AshLee is like great, competition, it's just like the adoption thing all over again.  Anyway, they ride the rides and Sean DOMINATES at Ring Toss and he's all IN YOUR FUCKING FACE, BRIANNA!!  SUCK IT!!!

Moving on, we're treated to a concert by Sean's allegedly "favorite band" the Eli Manning Band or something.  It's solid Generic Country, in case you're curious.  Later, they ditch the kids and AshLee recounts her awful childhood and adoption saga and hey, just throwing this out there, is Adoption Stories a show on TLC yet?  I bet that would be good! 

Cocktail Party!  At least someone gets to fucking drink around here.  Oh, Sean's got a surprise for Sarah!  It's arriving by limo.  Maybe it's the Ultra Arm 2000 with flashlight attachment and Bionic Grip and Your Choice of Manicure Settings.  Oh, crap, no, it's Leo the Dog.  Admittedly, Leo is pretty cute.  He should have a show.  The rest of the party consists of Tierra trying to bodycheck everyone away from S and Kacie wandering around in some kind of swimsuit dress trying to fix her fuckup from the other night.

The Rose Cer begins with a SHOCKING DEVIATION FROM THE NORM.  Sean takes KC out and rejects her personally because I guess they're friends or whatever and hopefully this is the last time we see her.  If she is the Bachelorette next season or something I will fucking shit.  Anyway your Rose Recipients are Munchausen Tierra, Big Mouth Billy Bass, Ambiguously Ethnic Catherine, Sucka Free Daniella, the Other Black Girl, Apparently Arabic, One Arm, Just Jackie, Angry Amanda, and Katie Holmes.

So our cuts are Manface and Grandma.  Bonne chance, you two.

NEXT WEEK: Tierra decompensates when Angry Amanda plays Hide the Seroquel.