This update to the classic Samurai series has been making the rounds in film festivals, and is opening this Friday at The Landmark, Embarcadero.
For those who aren’t familiar, Zatoichi is a blind masseuse, who wanders from town to town, depending on the kindness of strangers, and gambling a bit here and there to pass the time. But Zatoichi is also a master swordsman, and when he is met with trouble, his sword flashes out and resheathes before the thugs have a chance to hit the ground.
The old series had over 20 black and white films, and in each, Zatoichi usually only drew his blade once or twice during the stretch of each film. This updated version has been Kill Bill-afied, with more than a few bloodbath scenes, complete with CG blood for some interesting and precise splurts that would be too hard to do with the old ketchup packs. Thankfully, among the crimson showers, there is a fight scene of a single sword strike – in spirit, this cut trivializes the other battles, where he merely mows down useless henchmen. But for entertainment value, I’m glad they had both types of fights – both Tarantino and Kurosawa fans will have something to appreciate. And the story kept (mostly) true to the spirit of samurai films, but there weren’t enough silent parts – I would have liked something akin to falling cherry blossom juxtaposed with the glory of bloody swordplay.
Kudos for Miramax for bringing out both Jet Li’s Hero and Zatoichi to the US, even if its in a limited number of theaters.
PS, warning..the film’s conclusion is marred by a musical number straigh outta River Dance. Nothing spoiling or affecting plot. But its just some wacky stuff that doesn’t fit in.
Zatoichi (2003) at the IMDB
The Original Zatoichi
Miramax’s Zatoichi Page
Landmark Theater, Embarcadero’s Zatoichi page

Here’s a last minute notice I just got from Tony Perkins…..
We apologize for the late notice, but we have just learned that Commerce Secretary Don Evans will be in town on Thursday at H-P in Palo Alto, and he would like to engage AlwaysOn members and friends in an “on the record” town hall meeting exchange. It would be really great if you could come by.
They have asked me to moderate the discussion, and so we will be talking about all the hot subjects we regularly debate on AO, like the impact of outsourcing, job creation, capital formation and policy issues affecting innovation.
Here are the details:
Event:
Town Hall Meeting with US Department of Commerce Secretary Don Evans
Date:
Thursday, July 22
Time:
2:15 pm – 3:30 pm
Location:
Hewlett Packard Auditorium
3000 Hanover Street Palo Alto , California
RSVP: Reply to this email or to rwebb@sia-online.org.
Hope to see you there. I think this will be an event you will remember.
Best/tp
Tony Perkins
AlwaysOn
www.alwayson-network.com
Sponsored by:



Hmmmm Technet – I wonder if Kim Polese will be there.

No one dances enough anymore. Personally, I hardly ever go – even though when I do, I have a great time. Maybe it’s because if you end up in North Beach or the Marina, dancing can take on so much more weight than it’s meant to (you know, that whole meet-market stereotype). So while I enjoy a good house beat or pop-y groove as much as the next girl, sometimes, you just have to go where people actually dance.
I’ve been to Roccapulco twice now, and both times have been thoroughly enjoyable. I don’t know much about the salsa scene in the Mission – so I’m counting on reader input to let me know if I’ve found a good place or just the tip of the salsa-iceberg in San Francisco.
Maybe it’s because it appeals to my ethnic roots, or maybe it’s just the undeniable life force coming from the live band, but dancing is easier when it’s salsa or merengue. (yes, there’s a difference, and no I can’t explain, though it has been explained/demonstrated to me before). The steps can be taught – quickly (Roccapulco even offers classes if you get there before the general crowd on a Friday or Saturday night) – and willingly by most of the guys there. The club also makes a great girls-night-out venue because, thankfully, a request to dance isn’t a proposition, it’s just a request to dance. On both trips there, the only dances I sat out were by choice, not for lack of partners. It’s fun, it’s social, and much more friendly than other, clubbier haunts around the city.
Drinks are good, priced fairly, and served with a smile. The club is very large, so seating shouldn’t be a problem, except if you wait until unusually late to show up (and they do take reservations, if you’re concerned). Oh, and it’s full name is the Roccapulco Supper Club – so I’ll let you deduce from that the availability of food. People-watching while you take a breather is almost as fun as dancing. Both times I was there, it was easy to pick out the regulars, the really steller dancers, and just marvel at their speed, skill, and grace.
So grab your dancing shoes and head for floor. Take an open mind and a willingness to mix it up with different dance partners. If you’re like me and are less than skilled, salsa-wise, have a drink first, loosen up, and enjoy learning. You’ll be spinning in no time.
Roccapulco (info from the site linked above):
Hours: Salsa Lessons @ 8:30pm, 21 & over, Wed-Sundays, 8pm-2am
Admission: Special Admission: $10 Before 10pm, Except Special Shows
Contact: 415.648-6611 or Fax: 415.648-6613.
Website: www.roccapulco.com or email: roccapulco@aol.com
Address: 3140 Mission Street, San Francisco.

So far, living in the city has been an adventure.
Last night, I had the pleasure of enjoying a blackout that hit about 5 square city blocks in the richmond.
Before it got too dark, Jason – my roommate, and I went out to the intersection to help direct traffic. After it got too dark, we decided that playing in traffic was probably a pretty bad idea. We tried doing our civic duty to help folks avoid slamming into each other at our corner — we got a few thank you’s which was nice.
After true dusk and darkness, and the stoplight still out, the PoPo showed up and were in force, lighting flares, directing traffic and ticketing dumbasses that were bolting through the intersection without pausing to stop.
I saw one cop nearly get clipped by a dumbass driving 40 down the street.
My roommate Jason and I cracked open a bottle of champaign and candles to enjoy the quiet darkness and talked lengthily into the night. I wished I could see stars but it was too foggy and the glow of the red flares wasn’t too bad for such talks.

Just as folks are leaving, there are more folks coming out here.
Welcome Zend from Israel. Your heart and soul were here all along. So Azah Yofi on your decision to open up an office out here. This will for SURE make php5 a success!
Welcome Virgin Music – from NYC. Can’t wait to see your device, which will be sold at your retail stores, whilst I sip a Virgin Cola, after flying over the pond on Virgin Atlantic, and buying tickets at the new Virgin USA offices out here.
Next thing you know – Richard Branson will come flying in, in his baloon, under the Golden Gate Bridge.

Who said things were dead out here?
Anil’s just moved out here – too!

Or, like, a better way? Maybe something a little faster?
This past weekend could best be called “Take Two.” It took me two tries to get out of town and two tries to get back.
I’d planned to leave after work on Thursday for a nice, relaxing, blissfully hot-weathered weekend in Los Angeles. I even got sprung from the office early. Then something I’d eaten came back to haunt me.
Friday morning – Take Two. I make it to LA, but am already bummed because I’ll have to turn around and come back so soon. The weekend itself was great – a little humid for LA, but lovely, lovely tank-top weather nonetheless. There were art fairs, sushi dinners, beach naps, and brunches. Sunday, I hoped on the freeway and my second Take Two trip began.
You see, SoCal frequently just catches fire. The part of SoCal between me and the grapevine caught fire on Sunday and so I just called it quits before starting and extended my weekend another day (no big deal, I didn’t need that vacation time anyway, right?). So this morning, I am up at an ungodly hour, still hit LA traffic and haul it up the 5 for much too long. I’m so goal oriented I don’t even enjoy playing my favorite 5 game, “Name the California Agricultural Product.” (btw: the answer is usually “Almonds.”) The 6 hour battle with highway hypnosis and general fatigue made me quite curious about how I’ll handle my upcoming cross-country road trip. It’s not going to be all Road-Rules-antics-in-a-Mini-Winni, is it?
And, some of you may be thinking – why didn’t she just fly? Well, for a lot of reasons. For one, I don’t like airplanes. For another, being a native SoCal-er, I feel naked without my car. I also heard that two journalists types ran a test, one flew from SF to LA, one drove, and the flyer gained only 10 minutes, door-to-door – which bolsters my tendencies tremendously.
Anyway . . . . . The skies are different across California. (later today I’ll see about getting photos up to illustrate this point). In Los Angeles, they were mottled with fish-scale clouds. In the Central Valley they were whisped with white, starkly blue, and economically glaring down on the interstate. At my house here in the City? They were foggy. Natch.
One thing I did notice, however, were egrets everywhere. In Oceanside, on the 5, and of course, as readers of my blog will tell you, outside my office window.
And yes, that, my friends, is the thin bit of connective material I am using to make this post germane to an SF site.
It always comes back to the egrets.

The Chron’s got an article on private clubs in the City.
From the article, about the Pacific – Union Club:
“”PU is the pre-eminent club,” said Sally Debenham, a San Francisco socialite. “The crème de la crème. Big, big heavy players in the PU Club. They take it seriously, the little darlings.”
The Pacific-Union’s prohibitions have been characterized, said Merla Zellerbach, as “no women, no Democrats, no reporters.”"

Did anyone tell them their club’s acronym stinks? (Get it? PU, Pee yew, Poo. Sorry, I am a simple creature)
Clicky Clicky

Even though I’m in Los Angeles right now, I feel compelled to blog something about my mini shopping adventure that I had in Union Square earlier in the week.
After a bout of restless sleep, I woke up early Wednesday morning with a desire to shop, shop, shop. Part of the reason was because I was on my way to Los Angeles and San Diego in a few days, and I wanted some warmer weather attire. Another reason was, well, I just wanted to get out of the damn apartment (Unemployment gets really really boring after awhile.)
First on the list was a new pair of jeans. I headed down to the Levi’s Plaza on Union Square (I almost always get Levi’s when it comes to jeans), and along the way I saw a few PETA protesters on the square. They were putting up signs depicting the cruelty to chicken, and a couple of posters of celebrities (Paul McCartney and Pamela Andersen) saying how they don’t eat chicken because of what they knows goes on in the farms. The pictures were pretty graphic, but I guess that was the whole idea. I personally love meat too much to really give it up, but they’re certainly free to express themselves however they want. I kinda regret not moblogging the posters now.
After getting the new pair of jeans, I decided to walk a block up to Sutter to take a look round. I had never been up in that area before, truth be told. Walking down the street toward Kearny, it became increasingly clear to me that the stores here catered to a more upper-class crowd. I saw gourmet chocolate shops, designer clothing boutiques, and stores that just screamed swanky and trendy. I soon spotted a Paul Frank store, and was drawn in by the bright colors and the cute monkey logo. I’m a sucker for these kinds of cartoon-themed shops, and ended up getting something that looked like a short-sleeved brown t-shirt over a long-sleeved white t-shirt.
Next on the list was a new swimsuit. If there’s one item that I really despise shopping for, it’s a swimsuit. I’m just overly picky with them – I want one that has tummy control, looks slimming, and doesn’t scream “old lady.” I went to Macy’s to look for one, and it took me close to half an hour just to find the swimsuit section (It’s in the “seasonal clothing” section on the 5th floor). I tried out a total of 7 swimsuits there, and I was so fed up, I gave up on all of them. I headed to the Nordstroms in the San Francisco Shopping Center, and while the selection wasn’t that much different, I did finally settle on a boring old black one-suit number. I guess I was just too tired to continue by then. I dropped by the Cafe Bistro at Nordstroms to rest, had something to eat (the french onion soup is excellent), and headed on home. As for other warmer weather attire, I decided to just rely on standard Old Navy t-shirts.
I’ll be in Southern California for the next week, so I don’t know if I’ll still blog SF-related matters. But maybe I’ll come up with something anyway :)

Last night, I weaved a path down Kearny street to the Chinatown Night Market Fair. In Portsmouth Square, dozens of blue tents were packed closely together like bricks; the people, the mortar. I Dipped my wallet deep to protect against picks, and crept into the meandering stream of shoppers. Music from chinese instruments, children playing in the jungle gym, and the sounds of bartering mixed into a soundtrack for the fair grounds. Occasionally, the smell of curry or steamed greens would waft by.
And of course, the goods: an orgy of karaoke and chinese pop star DVDs, remote controlled cars, charms to hang off cellphones, glass figurines, fake designer purses, slippers, socks, underwear, plastic birds in bamboo cages, green jade, and red silk. Nothing you’d really need to buy right then and there, but interesting as a museum of “made in china” trinket-dom.
Worth a visit, and cheaper than going all the way to Hong Kong to visit Stanley Market.
Where: Portsmouth Square, across from the Holiday Inn on Kearny
When: Every Saturday, through October 9th, 6pm to 11pm
San Francisco Chinatown Night Market Fair

Tomorrow is payday, and — what a coincidence — Nordstrom’s Anniversary sale starts tomorrow, too. You might think that this is the anniversary of Nordstrom’s first day open, all those years ago. But no! Metblog’s crack fact check team discovered that it is, in fact, the anniversary of the very first stitch sewn by my great grandfather, Mikey Lam, the first asiatic factory child laborer. Oh we sacrifice the children! But we do it for Fashion! Its because of you, Gramps, that I can make this double breasted gucci suit look so good.
Intelligence gathered near Wired’s community water dispensing appliance (thanks erica!) indicate discounts of great magnitude – orders of magnitude, even. I’m going to run down during lunchtime and spend both nickels on something shiny. Maybe spare up the disposable income, shoplift a bit.
Actually, I don’t like anything Nordstrom has to offer (too dull) and the sales people are rude, but go knock yourself broke if thats your thing.
The sale goes til august 1st, and I think Nordstrom is at San Francisco Shopping Center, 5th and Market.
Heard of any good sales recently?
Hit me up with some comments.