East Shore Jazz Club on Qianhai is one of my new favorite spots and by the look of the house last night, it’s probably one of yours too. Jazz pianist Bob King played a crazy set in which he deconstructed any number of jazz classics. It was atonal, challenging, and wonderful. Unfortunately I have a head cold that would kill a small- to medium-sized walrus and so I couldn’t stay for the whole thing, but I really regret not doing so. Today is “Greet the Station Chief” day at the police station across the hutong from our apartment. There’s a big red banner and a long table that has a couple of uniformed officers milling about. So far nobody’s asked them anything, and I suspect they’re not unhappy about that.* Last week, I was taking a walk in our local park when two “police volunteers” with basic English showed me their identification and asked for my papers. Since I was wearing running shorts and an Arsenal jersey at the time, I didn’t have any pockets or papers. They took down my name and address and promised to “have someone go to my apartment later.” Ah, Beijing 2008! Feel the