Dave's Blog

Tuesday, June 22, 2004 11:36:42 PM 

Today SFGate ran an article about an archaeological dig in 
Lafayette, an upscale town near San Francisco.  It seems that 
we are digging up an old town because, not surprisingly, we are 
building a new town in the same place.  As there are layers upon 
layers of civilization at Troy, we find there are layers upon 
layers of civilization everywhere.  A confluence of two creeks 
was a nice place to live 1,000 years ago, and it is a nice place 
to live today.  

There are contemporary artifacts everywhere.  Libraries preserve 
books, movies, and sound recordings.  Video companies transfer 
old films to new media for new audiences.  Even the Internet has 
an archive.  As I contemplate the artifacts of civilization, I 
recall that journalism, both commercial and independent, is one 
very compelling method of preserving a culture.  History is 
really information stored in artifacts as books and newspapers.  
I also remember the dot-com boom and bust, and how it looked to 
those of us who lived it.  SFGate was there, giving us a 
commercial view, and independents were also there to record 
their own perspective.  Patty Beron gave us SFGirl, an e-zine 
that was written and patronized by those who were living the 
dot-com life directly.  

I would like to take a moment to thank Patty.  She started a web 
site, a journal, a blog, and an email group for the culture that 
embraced it the most.  She ran it out of her own pocket on her 
own time, and as commercial journals crashed left and right, hers 
was one of the most persistent.  After she decided to pull the 
plug on production, she funded web hosting for the site even 
through today, and so we find ourselves looking at a snapshot in 
time, preserved exactly the way it was when the last article was 
written.  

When I first heard of SFGirl I was thrilled.  Here was the pulse 
of the culture, beating in public and inviting participation.  I 
read the articles, browsed the blogs, contributed to the bulletin 
boards, and subscribed to the email list.  I felt, as a San 
Franciscan recently repatriated from Silicon Valley, that this was 
a way to connect with the City again.  Everyone knows about "The 
City", be it London, New York, or San Francisco.  It is where 
anything can and does happen, 24 hours a day.  It is where everyone 
who wants to be "where the action is" yearns to live.  It is where 
the most hip of the hip live, regardless of whether they work there 
or work in the environs, such as Silicon Valley.  I was reconnecting 
with my lost culture.  

Back in 1999 SFGirl chronicled what it was like to live in the 
City and to work in the City.  It had a Party Posse that went to 
all the free parties, such as IPO celebrations, product 
roll-outs, and promotions.  The Party Posse rated the parties 
according to quality of music, quality of food and drink, and 
quality of "schwag," or free party favors.  No party that charged 
for anything received a good rating.  It was all recorded on the 
site in regular articles.  The personal columnists were also 
intriguing, as they gave us their intimate points of view.  
Although they used pen names, I felt I knew them myself, and 
I earnestly hoped I would someday meet them.  

As the dot-com boom turned into the dot-com bust, Patty et al 
created Pink Slip Parties, regular events sponsored by SFGirl 
and various business associates, that attracted headhunters and 
job seekers to the same space.  What made Pink Slip Parties 
different from the usual job fairs that could be found in the 
Valley was the presence of alcohol, music, and dancing.  Once in 
a while the Pink Slip Parties would be free.  

Alas, one day I looked at SFGirl and found the party was over.  
The front page announced that there would be no more journalism, 
no more parties, no more email group.  We bid a fond farewell, 
and we ventured independently into the post-dot-com world. 

Over the few years that I had been a fan, my own career had taken 
a few turns.  I moved from San Mateo to San Francisco, drifted 
away from Valley manufacturers to financial service companies, 
and even worked a while for the dot-coms' nemesis, Microsoft.  
(Everybody say ooh!) I attended a rooftop party at the Industry 
Standard in the Jackson Square district, and eventually devoted 
my attention to teaching at the SFSU Downtown Center.  I found 
myself with the very refugees of the dot-com bust, teaching them 
even deeper and more intensive technology as the business support 
for high-tech careers seemed to be eroding outside the doors.  
Some of my students went on to further their high-tech careers, 
some started new businesses, and some went into other areas and 
quietly lurked on my own email lists.  I married, got religion, 
and happily devoted time to Unity SF, the East Bay Church of
Religious Science, and Shebalin Seminars.  

Recently I learned that one of the Salon members at Shebalin 
Seminars had been a columnist for SFGirl.  Out of an urge to know 
more about her and what she wrote, I went back to the SFGirl web 
site, still available due to Patty's benevolence.  Reading the 
work of my friend with new eyes, I rediscovered the spirit of the 
Turn of the Century, when we would all party like it's 1999.  Oh 
yes, it was! As I read the articles I relived a brief but intense 
period in my life and in the lives of all who were there.  Some 
day movies will be made of that era, movies that will chronicle 
the late 1990s the way that Cabaret, American Graffiti, and 
Flashdance have chronicled other ages.  When they do, I 
fancy that at least one of the screenwriters will draw on SFGirl 
as a primary source.  


Thursday, June 17, 2004 11:04:15 PM

Last night I spent the evening with friends, acquaintances, and 
some fresh faces in an exercise designed to get clear on what our 
goals and desires were.  Although it was an exercise of 
introspection, the evening also had its social components.  We 
chatted before the exercise, and we had a potluck dinner together.  
As each person conveyed what the evening meant to them, the theme 
of community arose repeatedly.  We were there not only to clarify 
our own goals, but also to refresh our social lives.  

Today the news media were very busy publicizing a kidnapped man 
in Saudi Arabia named Paul Johnson.  I knew a man named Paul 
Johnson, whom I hadn't seen in many years.  I couldn't tell what 
the now-famous Paul Johnson looked like from the pictures the 
media had to share, so I scanned all the stories on Yahoo.  It 
turned out that this Paul Johnson was a Lockheed Martin aviation 
engineer from New Jersey, definitely not the Paul Johnson I knew.  
A Reuters photo published this evening confirmed that this was 
not the Paul Johnson I knew.  Coincidentally -- or maybe not -- 
the Paul Johnson I knew came up in conversation with one of our 
mutual high school friends this week.  

I have been out of high school for 34 years now, yet my high 
school friends still contact me occasionally.  What ties people 
together for years, though their contact may be intermittent or 
even nonexistent for years?  Perhaps it is the community they 
share, both when they form their friendship and when they meet 
again.  Man is a social animal, and the society he forms seems 
to transcend space and time.  

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