California supreme court: Gays can marry (and locals want to)
This morning, the state supreme court ruled 4-3 "that domestic partnerships are not a good enough substitute for marriage."
Within minutes of hearing the decision, Fresno couple Geoff Twitchell and Clark Willits, who were downtown at the time, appeared at the county clerk's office and requested a marriage license application. Bee reporter Marc Benjamin got word about this, and we headed out to see if we could get their story:
The Bee streamed the following interview live via Qik:
The annual Toast & Taste of the Tower happens tonight, and it's a good thing I'm walking home, because if my scant memories of toward the end of the night in previous years is any indication, I don't want to be anywhere near a car.
On Monday, Rick Bentley wrote about "P.S. I Love You" coming out on DVD this week. Here's my advice: Don't rent it. Don't NetFlix it. Don't think to yourself, "Oh, I guess I'll TiVo it when it gets to HBO." Trust me, stay away.
I saw this in the theater over New Years with my aunt and grandmother in Tampa because "Charlie Wilson's War" and "Sweeney Todd" fell at later times than my aunt and grandmother could either be out at night or stay awake. So, we caught a 4:45 p.m. showing of what turned out to be the worst movie of 2007. Now, granted, I saw maybe 10 movies last year (favorites were "Enchanted" and "Grindhouse," btw), so my frame of reference may be off, but I've seen enough movies in my life to say this was a stinker.
Here's my biggest beef with this rom-dram about a widow trying to move on with her life: the audience never gets to move on. We first meet Hilary Swank (funnier and cuter than expected) and Gerard Butler (yes, there's no plot stupid enough to tarnish his sexiness) before the opening credits. It's a longish scene in which they argue over inane things like a clean apartment (if my details are off, please excuse me -- I've tried to block it out). But it's a very sweet scene that ends with them about to, you know.
But then, and I guess I missed the title card that said a number of months later, we're at a memorial service in an Irish bar. You see, Gerard Butler died. And this scene goes on way too long. And the same goes for Hilary's ensuing depression. And I'm OK with all of this until she starts having flashbacks. Oh, it's the flashbacks that proved to be the bane of my moviegoing existence for the next hour and a half.
A bail bondsman, a female disc jockey, a supportive husband and a proud mom cheered on Fresno's "Grrls" at the Convention Center on Saturday. The home team won 100-70.
(Warning: This video may contain language and violent images unsuitable for people who probably shouldn't be on the Internet in the first place.)
After the show finished, I started counting the number of people in the audience. Then I stood up and counted the number of seats at capacity. And I determined:
On Saturday night -- the second night of the run -- only 16 people showed up to see this wonderfully acted piece of local theater. I counted 33 empty seats. On Sunday, eight people were there, according to Bee theater critic and fellow Beehiver Donald Munro. At least it outnumbered the cast of seven. Could it be that Fresno was just waiting for his review? (By the way, I'm seconding his opening sentence.)
I don't know why there aren't more people showing up. I know that Good Company Players routinely sells out shows, and it has two venues with performances four to five times a week each. Then again, Good Company probably hasn't uttered the number of F-bombs in 30 years that I heard in a span of an hour and half Saturday night. And, granted, ART is part of this new wave of upstart companies that don't necessarily have a built-in audience. (Though I would've guessed that GCP fave Gordon Moore, whose performance as George is more memorable than Alan Arkin's was in the movie, would have filled a house on his own.)
Tuesday, I went out to the downtown post office to video last-minute tax-return filers. Yesterday, I was at Roosevelt High school after a shooting was reported.
As you may have heard, a school resource officer shot and killed a Roosevelt High student yesterday after the student struck him in the head with a baseball bat. Fresno Police Chief Jerry Dyer described the incident as "very tragic."
I was assigned to take out the new Nokia N95 phone, which has the capability to stream live video online via Qik.com, and share live what happened afterward. So, when Dyer spoke at a press conference outside the school, we brought that to our audience as it happened.
There's no editing involved. I logged about half a dozen videos, which included students being released and Bee reporters interviewing people on the street. I'm not sure all of these videos hold up. But I think we may have stumbled upon a compelling way to do breaking news video on the Web.
UPDATE: There was another press conference today at 11 a.m. (see video after jump).
(Btw, I'm not going to type it with a "3.") But at least the reference in Friday's episode (my wife DVRs it) doesn't necessarily crack on our fair city.
The dialogue went down like this ...
Special Agent David Sinclair (Alimi Ballard): (referring to a witness in a crime) "He's making tracks to get out of town while he still can."
Special Agent Don Eppes (Rob Morrow): "All right, so we better get this guy Smith's photo out to all the roll calls, you know, from L.A. to Fresno. If we don't find him, they will."
... see? The show's writers come off strike and give members of our law enforcement at least some credit. (I'm assuming that's what they meant, anyway.)
OK, so I'm looking at the popular stuff on Yahoo, and I see these photos (credit: Reuters), right? And I'm, like, OK, what's the story here?
Apparently, these aren't real photos, they are "computerised 'averaged' facial photographs" -- whatever that means -- and they were released with a study that dealt with how you can tell what a person is interested in based on their facial features. (I think. I dunno, it doesn't link to the study. That's not the point of this blog entry.)
So I'm checking out these "women," because I think it would be good to know if one of them just wants sex or seeking a long-term relationship. And it makes sense. The one on the left is the club girl, and the one on the right is hanging out at Revue.
Except that I misread the caption. It's reversed (btw, who writes captions describing the subject on the right first? The same people who use the word "whilst." Morons, that's who.) So, now I'm racking my brain trying to understand why I still think the one on the left is only interested in, you know.
Is it a mind-association thing? (As in, my mother told me the tooth fairy was real, so it blows my mind that she would lie to a child.) If that's the case, and these faces are interchangeable ... then what's the point of this research?
Garrghh. Btw, Heather, one of the "dudes" looks like Jim Halpert, no?
Monday is a happy day for me, because there's another new restaurant that has opened up within walking distance of my house. It's called Mr. Mr. Sushi (or, at least that's what it looks like on the sign and menu).
Now I'm not the biggest sushi guy (hating mayonnaise and avocado severely limits my choices), but I'm ecstatic this place is finally open (the window has been newspapered up for months). They did a test run yesterday during the bike races. I got takeout last night and lunch today. Both times I got the salmon skin roll (one of the cheaper items at $5.50).
I'm sure it's not the best in town, and I'm not a food critic (it's all subjective anyway, and people will go where they want). But here's to hoping that more places open up that save us Tower and downtown folk some gas money.
I stopped paying attention. I used to care about going to the cheapest station. "Can I save 6 cents if I go to the one across the street?" Just two weeks ago I was peeved about having to pay .10 more per gallon because I payed with a credit card.
Now, I don't care. I get the 87 Octane. 93 was $3.70something. I'm not that old. I haven't been driving that long. But I remember when gas was .99 a gallon. I remember saying to my then-girlfriend/now-wife back in college that I wouldn't pay $1.50 for gas. (That didn't last long.)
Fortunately, we're not in San Mateo, where this picture (credit: AP) came from last Thursday. I guess it's not a ridiculous thing to say that we'll be there soon.
I know, I know. I hate snakes, too. But this one (photo credit: AP) apparently exploded after the gator it swallowed fought back. My brother sent me this story from back home.
As you may know from reading the Beehive the past two years, I've been on the Rogue beat, doing video reports and reviewing shows. But I can't do that this year, because there's a little thing journalists have called "a conflict of interest."
When that arises, we (like judges) must recuse ourselves from our otherwise objective roles in our form of public service. And this year, I most certainly have a vested interest in the success of the Rogue Festival.
That's because I am part of the team that conceived, wrote, directed and workshopped the original play "Shakespeare Is an Idiot." Oh, and I'm performing in the show as a member of the ensemble.
That's right -- I'm in the Rogue, baby!
While I hope you all come see it (after all, the performers pocket all the door money), I'm not allowed to use this space to advertise. Rather, I'm here to share my firsthand experiences from the other side.
The following is an essay of sorts describing my involvement in the Rogue and what the festival means to me. (If you get bored, feel free to stop reading.) Also, Rogue performers: If you'd like to share your Rogue experiences with the Beehive's readers, feel free to email me or leave a comment below.
In advance of Leap Day (is that what it's called?), Bee reporter Diana Marcum and I hit the town this week to find random Fresnans' answers. Feel free to share yours.
Good Morning America aired a story with some local connections today. Apparently, there's a fake collagen doctor hanging out in Clovis salons offering cosmetic enhancements on the cheap (or, for "less coin," as Toyota thinks the kids are saying these days), and unsuspecting customers end up paying an even bigger price in the end.
Anyway, this is a horrible story. But ... only because the woman pictured here (credit: ABC), named Tiffany Barton, is quite attractive, if I may say so myself. At least the Tiffany I see on the left is. The one on the right looks like the type of woman I'd avoid walking down the street. Not because of her permanently disfigured mouth, but because she felt the need to do something about her perfectly fine lips in the first place.
I hope relatively attractive yet mildly vain and/or insecure women out there learn a lesson from Barton's unfortunate situation.
(By the way, The Bee also reported on this "doctor" back in October.)
I'm a huge Oscars guy, but the past two or three years have been bad for me actually going to the movies. So this is the first year since watching the Oscars that I haven't seen any of the films nominated for best picture. Which should make my predictions interesting.
California supreme court: Gays can marry (and locals want to)
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