San Francisco in 1955

Look at that skyline!

I have lived in the San Francisco Bay Area since 1965 and in the actual city itself from 1970 to 1985. I have many impressions of that great metropolis from the years of occuping different apartments in different neighborhoods and working at various jobs, starting as a dishwasher/busboy diagonally across the corner where Moscone Center (a large conference center) stands today.

So, I was excited to discover a more than 21-minute-long full-color movie of touring the city in 1955. So much has changed, but much looks, oddly, the same. Of course the old cars are fun to see in their shiny new condition, but many of the old buildings on the streets out of central downtown are quite similar. Downtown, though--Market Street especially--is almost unrecognizable.

It's a form of time travel to enjoy these preserved images. There's actually another short film shot in San Francisco just before the 1906 Earthquake and Fire. Now THAT'S really interesting. With a few tiny exceptions, my S.F. memories start in 1970, which is still a pretty long time ago.

Winter Chocolate with The Ticket Kitchen

Browsing in a bookstore (yes, they still have a few around), I saw Hot Chocolate on a Stick. I immediately bought one, knowing it had to be a great treat for a cold day.

I decided to give it as my $5 contribution to the company gift exchange. At the holiday party, I ended up with a different item, but, oddly enough, the recipient of my chocolate treasure was walking around, not appreciating its wonderfulness, and I traded back--I ended up giving the gift of chocolate to myself.

Now it sits, waiting for the perfect time.

Hot Chocolate on a Stick is made by The Ticket Kitchen in San Francisco. The company was founded by two women (mothers of 3 and 4 respectively), who loved chocolate growing up and wanted to offer something special.

Visit the website to see the various flavors, including French Dark Truffle, Vanilla Mint and Salted Caramel. There are attractive gift packages available too, although Christmas is getting pretty close!

If I were truly test driving life, I'd tell you here how wonderful it tasted, but I'm saving it until just the right moment. But, like Scrooge, I'll have to change my ways and stop hoarding my little treasure.

Jeffrey Thomas, Fine Bookseller, Remembered

From 1982 to 1985 I had the good fortune and privilege to work for Jeffrey Thomas. I met Jeffrey when we worked together at John Howell-Books, a leading fine and rare antiquarian book dealer in San Francisco (established 1912).

One day, Jeffrey surprised us all by leaving. He then started to accumulate the stock of merchandise he would need to set up his own small book business. He recruited me in February of 1982 to help him run it. He called me his "staff."

Like any new business, it was pretty slow at first. Unlike at Howell's, we were not on ground level and were not established, so we had few visitors. Jeffrey, a Yale grad and U.C. Berkeley Ph.D, loved writing book descriptions, issuing catalogs and acquiring interesting books, so he did that while I took care of producing the catalogs, planning the office layout (and moving us down the hall to new quarters at one point), setting up the computer system, paying bills, shipping the merchandise, and writing some simple book descriptions.

Jeffrey was born on November 27, 1938, which is why I am writing this today. We worked together at Jeffrey Thomas Fine & Rare Books for only three years, but when I left, the business was much more established. I recruited an excellent replacement for myself, who gave Jeffrey two decades of fine service, which only ended when Jeffrey died four years ago.

Every year after I left his employ, I would call Jeffrey on his birthday and we'd have a nice chat. What makes this remarkable, to me at least, is that we had little other contact, and he is the only person that I have ever called without fail on their birthday. It was just a way of keeping in touch.

Jeffrey was a gentleman, brilliant, funny, kind, and he added a lot to the antiquarian book business for many years. Like so many owner-centered businesses, Jeffrey Thomas Fine & Rare Books did not survive his passing.

Happy Birthday, Jeffrey. I miss you.

City Sunday

I got up early today--a Sunday--to take my son into the City for an orientation session for his new job--as a model at the flagship Northern California store of Abercrombie & Fitch. Yes, it's exciting--for us as parents to have a son who has a job (number of hours uncertain) and also that is in a field he is interested in.

While he sat with his A&F folks, his mother and I had a fine brunch of delicately prepared omelets and giant bowl lattes at Cafe de la Presse, and then wandered about in the foggy morning air before the stores opened. Haven't done that for a while. My wife and I remarked on the buildings that seem to have different tenants every time we're there. Then there are the corners that got demolished and replaced 10 years ago--or 30. But it stills feels like home, even when you're surrounded by visitors from all over the world.

Sights and sounds of San Francisco. Tourists lined up to ride on the open top bus tours--or the cable car. Homeless people twitching and fidgeting while they ask for spare change. Another street construction project. Amazingly over-the-top chandeliers and artwork at the gateway to Chinatown. This little kitty in a restaurant window:

I sense another step in my family maturing as we share a morning together. Before long (we all hope) our baby will be on his own, moving in a direction that matters to him. Then, as empty nesters, we may move back into the City (if we can afford it).

Lonesome Locomotive Rocks at the Milk Bar in S.F.

On a busy weekend of listening to music, I report in from last night's couple of hours of Lonesome Locomotive music at the Milk Bar on Haight Street, near Stanyan. My drummer, Tony, and I ventured to the historic Haight-Ashbury district and enjoyed the powerful and perfectly synched up sounds of the young band, which has been playing together a lot after forming last year.

My specific interests were hearing my friend Mike Meagher--the bassist, and he didn't disappoint. I also wanted to see the venue and meet the person who set up the musicians. I succeeded. Other band members include Michael Rosen, Brian Byrnes, Erin Cassidy, Steven Sparapani, and Kit Ruscoe. The vocal harmonies of Rosen and Byrnes were strong, Byrnes' leads evoked the Dead (at least two of the songs they played were by the seminal S.F. band). The drums were exactly right and played with enthusiasm (I saw at least one instance of baton-like stick flipping--a little flair).

The venue is long and narrow with the bar along the left, booths up front on the right (empty last night) and a cozy back room containing a small stage--about big enough for five people. In this case, Steven the cellist, when he joined in on a couple of numbers, took the left side of the L-shaped raised platform.

Besides enjoying the music and sampling the half dozen beer choices on tap, I met Amy, a young woman who spent much of the evening successfully rolling a hula hoop around her hips. A second woman joined her at times. We were served by an attractive traditionally tattooed and coifed female bartender.

The small crowd seemed happy to be there and the vibe was mellow. The Sunday Bluegrass schedule at the Milk Bar starts in midafternoon every Sunday, so Lonesome Locomotive were the third band to go on. We arrived just a little before their show. You could spend the day there--and I plan to show up earlier next time.

After a couple of beers over the two hours, we were hungry, so we visited Escape to New York and enjoyed pizza by the slice and Cokes. The perfect meal for 9:30 p.m. on a Sunday night! They had an autographed album by Elvis Costello on the wall.

Gay in the NBA - Hooray

Rick Welts, Phoenix Suns president and CEO, has announced that he is gay. During his nearly 30 years working in the NBA, this has never been talked about, although many who worked closely with the 58-year-old executive apparently knew. They just never brought it up because, well, it didn't make any difference in how well he did his job.

It is a big deal for somebody to come out, especially a public person like Welts. And he's relieved, apparently, and hopes that this will encourage others to live honestly. It remains to be seen whether a gay player (and you know there must be some) is ready to do the same. Life in the locker room could be difficult.

I hope our society is ready for more of this. I just watched the most recent episode of Glee, in which Kurt Hummel, one of several gay characters, is traumatized by something that was done to him--but triumphed in the end by taking it on with guts and humor.

Let's face it--gay people are part of our world. I've had gay bosses, co-workers, friends, and even a relative. I also live in the San Francisco Bay Area, where this is more normal. I hope that more people will become tolerant and accepting of this with Mr. Welts' public admission. Maybe the day of gay marriage won't be too far away now. If you know and love anyone who's gay, you'll understand why that's so important.

Weather

It's currently 71 degrees and cloudless, at 6:14 p.m. Pacific Time on May 1. A Sunday. Does it get any better than this?

It's funny how weather affects us. As one of many things in your life that you absolutely do not control, it can make you happy, irritated, depressed, expectant or for me right now, eager to just go drive somewhere.

I still remember driving with my family after dinner to get ice cream in our Austin Healey roadster when I was just a kid. That image is still powerful. Sometimes we went to Ted's for hot dogs, too--our first fast food experience.

There are the 97-degree summer days that make me want to do lots of nothing--or seek out air conditioning to huddle inside. There are heavy rain days, which can either give me cabin fever or conversely, make me feel like I'm communing with nature as I hear the wind and smell the fresh rainwater. I like thunder and lightning--I don't fear it.

Fog can make me feel claustrophobic--or exhilarated, depending on what type it is and where I am. Surrounding me every day in the Summer in San Francisco, it's depressing. Visiting Monterey on a weekend it can be an exciting change of pace.

Seeing our California hills covered in a green carpet is an annual Spring treat--and it lasts for a very short time. That time is already about to end. Get ready for a change to gold--which then gives me another association.

When it starts hitting 80 degrees outside, it feels like it's time for school to be over--but unfortunately, it has been--for a long time.

Wish I had that Healey today.

Fine Time with Mom

It's always a pleasure to take advantage of living in one of the great vacation destinations in the world. Today, my mother and I strolled beneath the world famous Golden Gate Bridge along a path that used to be part of the Presidio Army Base in San Francisco.

We ate a pleasant lunch at the Warming Hut before heading out along the shore. I'm sure the hut is especially welcome on cold, foggy days, but today, the weather cooperated with temperatures in the low 60s and clear skies.

I learned something new about my mom today. She often takes this walk, and it's her habit to go up to the tourists and offer to take their photo together. It makes them very happy, and means they'll have a keepsake that includes everyone to send back to their friends at home. And, they'll remember a small kindness from a San Franciscan, too.

I hope we'll be able to go back to Crissy Field again soon.

What Do You Know at 18?

As I consider the life of my 18-year-old son post-high school, I remember my first full-time job, at a small restaurant in downtown San Francisco called Chris' Seafood, founded in 1918.

I remember the giant green fish-shaped sign that hung over Mission Street when I first approached it on my first day.

I was a suburban teenager and had no idea what I was in for. This little place had been around for years, and was a perfect complement to the seedy hotels and denizens they harbored in what is now the Moscone Center and Yerba Buena Gardens. We had homeless guys come in looking for money back when the word "homeless" wasn't invented yet. They were just called "winos." They objected when we offered them crab salad sandwiches instead of coins towards a bottle of Thunderbird.

I mopped floors, bused tables, and washed the dishes. I was taught that when the big hot tray came out of the stainless steel box, to dump the silverware into a large white towel and rub it dry. That basic flatware shone. I can still feel the heat and smell the soap today, 40 years later.

We served fried fish, but specialized in prawns, scallops and abalone, all covered with a homemade Louis dressing. I know--because I helped make the mayonnaise it contained from scratch. We also made the French fries by hand--something you rarely see today.

I spent six months working from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. before taking off and strumming my guitar for five months--and hitchiking to Arizona and back. But that's another story.

Here's my beautiful boy, at the same age as I am in that photo above. His part-time career? Model at a clothing store.