Live and let Levi

So we finally got to go to the new Levi stadium, home of the putative SF 49ers. In the same way that people are omtting redskins from the Washington teams name, so it should be with the 49ers. 

Unless the name is supposed to be a comment on their distance from SF?

 Getting there is easier than the old stadium, from the East Bay, at least, with no toll to pay which gets an automatic star in my eyes. 

There are multiple wallet gougingly priced parking areas which were  there beforehand and are now making the nearby companies a little extra cash in these hard pressed, internet boom times. Anything less than $40 and you've got yourself a bargain!

Walking up to the stadium, we passed the local train stop which is conveniently placed close to the main entrance.

Security and ticket check was quick and well manned, at least it was 2 hours before kick-off.

The main entrance is up a large, wide stairwell allowing good flow of people, before and after the game.

For 100 club levels, there are separate ground level entrances on the left and right sides. Here is where one of the weird incongruities exist. There are 10 SEPARATE clubs within the stadium. And you can only go to the one you are assigned to, which always makes you want to see the others because they must be, you know, better.

The stadium itself has the usual seating on one side and on the home side? A monolith. I guess they took design lessons from the Stanley Kubrick school of design because that thing is imposing. tHe walkways are wide, with lots of room and there is an outside ring to bypass the  concessions if you want to get from point to point quicker.

We walked around the stadium and went to all the levels and the views, even from the  vertiginous 400/sherpa level, were pretty good. The Bud light and Pepsi levels are SRO spaces with basic views, good mingle space and some of the only free seating in the whole place. While up there, the cheerleaders came on a walk about for some photo ops. From here, if you look up, you can see the large screens , if you can't watch the game,

The food choices are good with the usual burger, hot dog, pizza holy triumvirate we've come to expect in a stadium. But on top of this there are Vegan choices at just about every stand. 

More interesting were the Bao buns and an excellent, no compromise curry which was unexpectedly good. All meals were around $12 irrespective whatever you eat. Alcohol, the mainstay of football, is over $10 a beer which isn't bad if you own a Silicon Valley netwerking company but a little OTT for the rest.

Water is over $5  bottle which is pretty rude, considering that half  the crowd is seriously  dehydrated by the end of the first quarter due  to the  non-relenting sun. Yup, because  when you get to your seats, you'll find that, unless you're  in the club seats on the monolith side, you're going to be sweating like a horse's butt. After a race.

This will probably improve by the end of the year when the temperature goes down but at present you feel the full effect of the sun. 

The seats in C114 were extremely comfortable, well cushioned but very close to the seats in front. I had an aisle seat so it  wasn't so bad. They have little hooks on them but god knows why as ladies aren't allowed to bring in their handbags anyway!

With club level in 114, there is  a lounge underneath the seats with a large, airconditioned space with  some seating scattered around which quickly filled up with refugees from the  sun.

In the lounge there's a weird sort of motion action computer game which is visually impressive and advertising the wares of some IT company.

At the end of the game, exit was via the club exit which saved a bit of time over the main concourse. Police weren't quite sure where to let people cross the road to get to the car parks which was really something that should've been a bit more prepped for considering this is the third or fourth function. With hot, tired and drunk people this could've caused a scene. I'm sure it will  improve.

Overall a positive experience, way nicer than candlestick. Those who prefer the old stadium are really looking through rose tinted specs. But premium seating is horrifically expensive. Printed seat price was $438 though I paid less than a third the night before. And these were on the away team side and not even the premium "all you can et" invitees of the bank seats.

I'd like to experience the home side to see the differing lounges and facilities but I'll wait till the novelty factor wears off and the resale pricing settles.

Just a little old lady

One of the beauties of living in SF as opposed to a town with agoraphobia in Iowa is the ability to see people that you've never heard of tell stories that you've never heard.

Last week My daughter and I went to see an little old lady of 96 tell us of her experiences in the war. (By little old lady I mean close to 4 foot 2 and by War I mean WW2.)

And it was fascinating. She was Jewish and lived through the war relatively unscathed ( minus a lost fiancé) until French liberation. When liberated she felt the need to do something and became a spy reporting on German positions from behind enemy lines, due to her 1. Being female and 2. Speaking perfect German.

She kept it pretty hidden until the 90's when she eventually decided to tell her story. And now she tours the world telling it. And, boy, is she sharper than a box of Wilde witticisms.

One of the more interesting side bits was the presentation of a proclamation by a Jewish US soldier who was one of the first to publish photos from inside the concentration camps.

Naturally because this was America there's a book to sell and we bought it.

This was at a theatre in Livermore, an area better known for its wines

 ( Wente, Concannon) than its culture. And it was sold out. 

Hot Chick!

When I was younger I loved jazz. I would walk into Hillbrow with others ( usually tortured girlfriends or sometime alone to see various artists. Whether it was Rumours in Rockey St or King Of clubs in downtown Joburg, I would go to them all.

And as time has progressed, I've seen less and less. When your evening options decrease, the appeal to others of an evening of discordant notes can be quite unappealing.

But there's always been a hit list of jazz musos that I've wanted to see. And slowly I've ticked them off.

Joe Pass at Ronnie Scott's. 

Pat Metheny in a Warsaw skating rink.  

Al Jarreau in a Joburg amphitheater.  

Hugh Masekela playing and in Kippies chilling after South Africa outgrew apartheid.

Chuck Mangione, the best known flugelhornist and Lee Rittenour at the Cape Town Jazz festival. Sadao Watanabe, saxophonist extraordinaire at the Market Theatre in Johannesburg. 

Andreas wollenweider somewhere in Africa.

Tony Bennett mercifully singing short at the Giants games.

But even though I can't play for buggery, my favorite jazz is piano jazz. And here there is a holy quintuplet that I have finally finished this week.

It started with the greatest, Oscar Peterson at the RFH many years ago, a year or so after he'd had his stroke. And music must be great therapy as he didn't miss a note to my adoring ears.

Went to Japan when 17 and totally by coincidence, Chick Corea was playing with his band at a club called, I think, the Latin quarter in downtown Tokyo. I don't know how I got there but I know that I don't know how I got home as this was a night sponsored by Suntory whisky and all the drinks were free.

Then by another stroke, saw George Shearing in London as well with the bonus feature of Mel Torme. On a nostalgia tour and sometimes those are the best kind.

When I first arrived in SF, I was getting used to the area with no idea that the whole world eventually passes through here. And one night saw that Keith Jarrett was coming, man of the legendary Koln concert album which I've treasured for years. A side view and a pair of ears was all I needed that night.

Finally the fifth and last of the greats I've wanted to see came to town. In combination with Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock was here. I missed the first round of tickets but on daily checking I finally found a single in the side tier.

Zellerbach is part of the UCBerkeley campus where the heart of the cultural campus is based.

I but while it's based on a University campus, the average age of the crowd was that of university age parents.

It's a place with the redeeming characteristic of incredible acoustics. 

There was a preconcert talk given by a true hepcat, a brief alcohol fueled break then the lads came on.

There's a genuine warmth and camaraderie between these two. They started playing together BEFORE I was born. A little chat with an appreciative audience, a pug for a vegan cafe ( Cafe Gratitude in Berkeley, if you want to know) and then the y started playing.

No song introductions. The first song went on for half an hour. People would clap as they recognized bits of songs. And it was all sheer magic down to the single interactive encore. 

Final pianist ticked off.