A couple weeks ago, I got a general heads-up about a “Gala” at the Cal Academy of Science from a friend, Joule. I almost let it pass by, but Chel said I should think about going, since she’d be off doing her own thing at the Renaissance Faire. I was still a bit waffley because of the expense and the fact that it was on a Friday night in SF and I didn’t want to deal with driving all the way back to SC afterwards. But after talking with Joule in person, I figured I’d give it a go; her offer of crash-space really negated my final excuse. It was only after I plonked down $125 for this Gala that I really didn’t know all that much about, did I realize that I wasn’t sure what I was going to wear. You see, a couple months ago, Chel and I moved into a tiny duplex-apartment; it’s so small that we had to put about 2/3 of our belongings into a storage unit. This included most of my dress-up clothes, too. I didn’t feel much like digging through my storage unit, pulling a variety of items out, with out knowing what sort event it was. When I think “Gala”, thoughts of “Black Tie” or even “White Tie” go through my head. Funny thing, on the event description page, they said this about the Attire: “…borrowed elegance and vintage finery encouraged.” That doesn’t say much. Also, it said there would be a DJ until late into the evening. Hrm… So, is it Black Tie? Would I be okay in a suit? Could I get away with nicer outfit I might go to a nightclub? Pop-Dancing in a tux? Blech.

Being that their “information hotline” was just a recording, I decided to send an email message the organizers. Their response: Black Tie Optional. Riiiight; how is anybody supposed to get that from their description? Also, “Black Tie Optional” really isn’t helpful. On the East Coast, it means, “Everybody and their mother will be wearing a Tuxedo and, if you’re lucky, you don’t stick out like a stubbed toe in your Navy Suit.” But on the West Coast, it truly is a nebulous request. Seriously, if you want people to show up in Tuxedos, say it’s “Black Tie”. If it doesn’t matter, but still want people to dress nicely, say “Informal”… don’t waffle with this “Black Tie Optional” malarkey.

So with Black Tie Optional in mind, I decided that I had to just bite the bullet and dig through the storage unit, pull out all my dress-up stuff, bring it along and just wear whatever to “match the group”. Problem was that I couldn’t find my “regular” tuxedo dinner jacket, I could only find my tailcoat. I’m completely convinced that the wayward tux jacket and the matching shiny tux shoes were off sucking face and secretly laughing at me from some dark corner of the storage unit.

So there I am, walking up to Joule’s house, a really awesome house with a spectacular view of the City, I might add, with a huge garment bag full of suit, tux and other assorted dress-up crap and Joule answers the door in a floor-length evening gown. First thought: “Well, I guess I’m wearing the penguin suit,” followed immediately by, “Wow… that’s quite a dress.” After I get all dudded up, the black-on-black Chuck Taylor’s contrasting nicely with the tailcoat, Ken, another of Joule’s friends, arrives —dressed for a night of clubbing. I’m thinking, “Nope, I am not changing. If I look goofy in the penguin suit, whatever.” Apparently I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t decipher the requested attire description.

We cabbed it over to Golden Gate Park, wandered around the Academy, getting our money’s worth out of the numerous open bar stations serving a nice selection of upper-to-top shelf and a wide array of hors d’oeuvres and generally socializing, when Ken asks me if I knew where the concert was. Concert? Apparently I completely missed the fact that Chris Isaak was playing. It put his earlier question of what I thought of Isaak’s music into less seemingly random context. The concert was pretty good. His music doesn’t quite make it into my top 60 hours of music I’d choose to be stranded on a desert island with (little too melancholy), but it was still a great concert. I was especially impressed that they played for a hour and a half after getting off a plane from Australia only a few hours before.

The post-concert DJ knew her crowd and spun a healthy mix of newer tracks and 80’s Pop semi-standbys. I would liken it to the kind of music selection one would actually want at a wedding reception… instead of what one usually gets. Basically, the dance floor was full for most of the rest of the night.

When they closed the place down, most of our group decided they were going to follow rumors that Chris Isaak and Co. were going to be at Boom Boom Room late into the evening, but a couple of us begged off; I really didn’t want to go to an actual night club in a tux and tails. Sleep came easy, even if it was on a couch (Thank you again Joule; no the couch wasn’t uncomfortable).

This morning, I decided to forego the commercial building uglyness that is 101 and the brown hills of 280 and took a drive down the coast. Nice drive. Pacifica was wrapped in its usual fog blanket and a definite chill hung in the air. The marine layer and cold stayed with me until around Davenport where I popped out into beautiful blue skies and 74 degree weather… and now I’m off to catch up with work I skived off on last night; ah the joys of being “On Call”.

18 Hours of awesome. Open Bar & Hors d’Oeuvres; 1.5hr set by Chris Isaak; 2hrs of 80’s music dancing; morning fog-drive down the coast. Great Night.