Twenty-Four #013

Tugboat in Funny Girl at the end of "Don't Rain on My Parade" with Barbra Streisand.

Twenty-Four #012

SFMUNI 24 Bus Line, 14th & Castro.

Twenty-Four #011

Beeper number at Super Duper Burger.

Twenty Four #02

Folsom Street, San Francisco

Twenty Four #01

My sister has been sending me mass emails lately. Some of which haven't been that awful. My favorite ones are those that promote regional pride.

You know you're from New England when...
You know you're from Massachusetts when...
You know you're from Medway when...

etc., etc., etc.,

They're funny, sometimes true, and if after reading a declaration I'm confused then I get a sense that I missed out on some kind of cultural heritage that would otherwise brand me as an outsider. For those no longer living in the region these lists can be nostalgic and almost enough to punch to break your lease. (Then again, who wouldn't trade places with you, am I right?)

The best part is when you read a list like this and recognize the same statements made about New Yorkers, Philadelphians, San Franciscans, etc. Like that wee lad at some baseball game holding his middle finger out and shouting. He changes teams more times more times than a narcissistic Hollywood C-lister.

Here we go. Today's 24 siting comes from a list as previously mentioned. And, I apologize, but it's one of those facts that I can't even pretend to understand. But, what's great about it, is that it's self-referential. A very "meta" beginning to this new segment.

24. Sorry Manny, but number 24 means DEWEY EVANS.

Thanks!

Introduction to Twenty-Four

The past few weeks have been a wash of ridiculous ideas. There's something about being catapulted out of graduate school that makes you want to complete every possible (and near impossible) task you come up with. And, if you happened to graduate from an art school, then most of these tasks involved the current obsession in modern art: the Obsessive Compulsive art form.


From the 20 million beads sculpted by hand into installation pieces (thank you, Liza Lou):

To the chronicling, documenting, administrative handling of shredded car pieces into a skyscraper filing cabinet (and thank you, Sam Yates):

What we have is Art's obsession with Obsession. Anything that is meticulously done for a period of time unseemly for any "normal" person; anal-retentive organizational skills; the enlargement, exaggeration, parody, sarcasm, length, width, & height stretched to the borderlands of recognition is in vogue.

Add a pinch of magical realism and you have a new segment to The Werewolf Hotel: Twenty-Four.

To get it out of the way 24 is my favorite number for two reasons. (1) I was born on July the 24th. (2) It's divisible by many fantastic numbers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 12, & (like any whole number, itself) 24. I find that when this number pops up it's a sign, an omen, a message. I don't proport that it's always the case but it still seems to have personal properties I prefer to pay attention to.

Including its inverse: 42. The first time I really caught that number's eye I remembered to pay very close attention and I can't say why just now.

Perhaps, when the time is right, any other 24-Fanatics will pay attention with me. OK?