Last Saturday, fried from computer screen adoration (you know, when it’s you and your screen and you’re glued to each others eyes…) I finally broke free.
It started ominously – a drive to the office to pick up papers at 7am on a Saturday morning. But Spring was upon us and the views of the bay and city in the morning sun finally had their way with me. I called Marco to check if he was at the Alemany Farmer’s market. There’s no better way to start a San Francisco Saturday than at the peoples market (then; today). But for once, Marco wasn’t going. As I arrived at our block, I couldn’t turn towards home. Instead, I found myself continuing to drive and ended up on Geary, racing into the Pacific Ocean. The day only got better:
- The first peek of the Pacific from Geary, rolling downhill to Loui’s Diner and the Sutro Bath ruins. If I wasn’t in a motoring mood, eggs, steak and hash browns with a view to ochre mud stumps and a raging ocean would have been the call.
- Turn off into the park with the top open to take in the colors and smells of springtime, our brooding gnarled california trees and turning a corner, the sudden view of stoic bison, unreal in their mass and stillness.
- Over the bridge to Old Oakland. Lemon riccotta pancakes at Cockadoodle Cafe, talk about politics surrounded by refreshing color after (it’s true) mostly white San Francisco.
- Dropping Anirvan back to Berkeley and had to extend the conversation as we often must. But this time, a Berkeley tradition – sitting on the Shattuck median (an 8 ft mound of dirt and grass) with cars puttering by on either side, under a ‘don’t sit on median’ sign. Berkeley gets plus points for this urban rendition of hanging out in a meadow.
- Driving back into the city with a favorite view of San Francisco (from the Bay Bridge) on display for longer than usual as I crawled through Saturday afternoon traffic.
- Quick dinner at Out the Door under the SF Shopping Center with the girls and Marco to provide the sole, slammingly dressed, male counterpoint. Marco can do orange & pink, together - no more need be said. For food, the brightest, most unexpected salad I’ve ever eaten, Grapefruit & Jicama salad.
- Mosey on over to 111 Minna for what started a little slow (it was a fundraiser for lawyers after all…) but with a favorite DJ from old times spinning dub and then the live action of Sukhawat Ali Khan and friends, it was raucous. On this night, the art included Amal’s photographs relaying stories of taxi cab drivers.
Maneesh (afore-mentioned DJ) said – ‘reminds you of Azaad days, doesn’t it?’ Minna, now more standard fare as a hipster art and music joint, used to be smaller in the day, and Saturday nights often included a collective of DJs (‘Azaad’) spinning South Asian-influenced dub, beats, hip-hop, trance and drum n bass. Took me back. Time for a party.
Sutro Bath Ruins. Photo by: the tahoe guy
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