Tuesday, December 18, 2007

A box with a stick and carrot and some string

Dear Bennish:
I was in your future neighborhood this evening for a holiday office party (I was the spouse attachment), at Irving and Sunset.

The Steven plucked me up out of the Mess of Berkeley at 4:00 PM sharp and it was 4:20 when the car pulled up the Panhandle of Golden Gate Park heading into the Sunset district.

The sun was bouncing low off the ocean through 20 blocks of eucalyptus and optimism, thickly coating the low mist into a velvety bronze that contrasted nicely with the darkening blue sky. Looking East down Sunset the blue windows UCSF Medical Center gleamed on the hill: no ice, no salt, no slush. Not a single person looked cold. In the opposite direction through the mist, one could just see straight down the crest of the street into the wide gold Pacific.

I tried to determine the livability of the neighborhood with the a civil and uncynical eye and determined - yes: grocery store, fruit seller, Russian deli, two dozen chinese medical practices, big ass Catholic Church (St. Anne, mass in Cantonese at noon), Muni line, a decent bookstore, bakery, the occasional parking space... this might just do. Although there was a lack of pornographic theaters and obvious gunfire that requires some attending to, I thought: yeah, z'okay. You and the Lady M. could maybe do this.

So staggering on and not wanting to be the first person at the party and with the magic irony that is San Francisco, we fell into the Kaleo Cafe. Hawaiian in theme (complete with waterfall feature of dubious authenticity), the lower floor is reserved for ukulele lessons every Monday night. Saturday morning are for senior hula lessons. And doesn't that sound like fun. Just when was the last time Ben had a big old plate of fun?

Not wanting to stuff ourselves at the party, we had a couple of excellent olive, basil and feta slices at Arizmendi Bakery . Highly recommended at $2 a slice and the crust was perfect. I did eyeball the fruitcake ($12 for a surprisingly heavy loaf). Eventually we did make it to the party and it was fine, but that's not really the point of this post, is it?

So all I am saying is this, dear Ben: it's still here. It's pretty. It's waiting.
With the Usual Soupcon of Adoration and Abuse,
Madame Leiderhosen

PS: Get your ass over to PluckyFluff; recent spinning adventures include dried sardines and seaweed and less successful but still admirable attempts to spinning chewing gum. FuckALLBrilliant.

1 comment:

Writeprocrastinator said...

We do have the occasional mugging here. Moreso than in almost any other non-downtown San Franciscian neighborhood.