Reality Check
I walked home from work yesterday, something I do on an average of once a week, sometimes more. I take different routes, depending on my mood and how long I want to walk.
The quickest way I've found so far involves taking the Muni from Embarcadero Station to Church Street & Market, then walking up 17th (at least 20 minutes straight uphill) to Stanyon, cutting over to Parnassus (which turns into Judah), all the way west to 44th Avenue, and then south for 11 very long blocks to my house. This particular route takes about 2 and a half hours. Sometimes I cut south before 44th and take different streets towards the ocean, just to vary the view.
I love walking when I have the time because I get a chance to see things that I wouldn't if I were on the train or driving my car. San Francisco is a beautiful city, with gorgeous and intricately detailed architecture. It's filled with eclectic stores and intriguing cafes, and oddities like the Chinese Holocaust Museum, which I noticed yesterday while walking down Lawton. It's funny 'cause I know a lot of people in other parts of the country think of Los Angeles/Hollywood as a sort of Shangri La, a place where dreams come true. Everyone is gorgeous, there are movie stars on every corner, and all the women look like Playmates (some of 'em do, of course, but there are plenty of normal and yes, even ugly people, in Los Angeles too). Everyone wants to come to L.A. Well, I lived there for over 15 years and to me, San Francisco has always been a sort of unobtainable goal. The place I'd love to live, but couldn't afford to, it wasn't practical. We'd visit once in a while, and those visits were always magical and memorable. But like Brigadoon, San Francisco would vanish into the fog as we drove across the Bay Bridge back towards Los Angeles.
Yesterday I stopped in Roxie's Market on Kirkham & 9th to pick up some black and white pudding (oh so bad for you, but oh so good...) for the weekend. When I came out, I looked down 9th Avenue and caught a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge rising up behind the green expanse of Golden Gate Park. And it suddenly hit me...I live here. I'm not visiting. This is my city now. I made it into Brigadoon! Now if I only had legs like Cyd Charisse...
The quickest way I've found so far involves taking the Muni from Embarcadero Station to Church Street & Market, then walking up 17th (at least 20 minutes straight uphill) to Stanyon, cutting over to Parnassus (which turns into Judah), all the way west to 44th Avenue, and then south for 11 very long blocks to my house. This particular route takes about 2 and a half hours. Sometimes I cut south before 44th and take different streets towards the ocean, just to vary the view.
I love walking when I have the time because I get a chance to see things that I wouldn't if I were on the train or driving my car. San Francisco is a beautiful city, with gorgeous and intricately detailed architecture. It's filled with eclectic stores and intriguing cafes, and oddities like the Chinese Holocaust Museum, which I noticed yesterday while walking down Lawton. It's funny 'cause I know a lot of people in other parts of the country think of Los Angeles/Hollywood as a sort of Shangri La, a place where dreams come true. Everyone is gorgeous, there are movie stars on every corner, and all the women look like Playmates (some of 'em do, of course, but there are plenty of normal and yes, even ugly people, in Los Angeles too). Everyone wants to come to L.A. Well, I lived there for over 15 years and to me, San Francisco has always been a sort of unobtainable goal. The place I'd love to live, but couldn't afford to, it wasn't practical. We'd visit once in a while, and those visits were always magical and memorable. But like Brigadoon, San Francisco would vanish into the fog as we drove across the Bay Bridge back towards Los Angeles.
Yesterday I stopped in Roxie's Market on Kirkham & 9th to pick up some black and white pudding (oh so bad for you, but oh so good...) for the weekend. When I came out, I looked down 9th Avenue and caught a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge rising up behind the green expanse of Golden Gate Park. And it suddenly hit me...I live here. I'm not visiting. This is my city now. I made it into Brigadoon! Now if I only had legs like Cyd Charisse...
4 Comments:
At 9:07 PM, Anonymous said…
I'm almost afraid to ask, but what is black and white pudding?
At 8:04 AM, Dana Fredsti said…
mmmm...blood sausage and some white sausage. Staple of the Irish diet. They're yummy! You cook 'em up in little discs (I use olive oil) and have them either with eggs or with potatoes. Definitely not diet food...but a nice treat once in a while.
At 10:11 AM, freethoughtguy said…
I think I saw Klingons eating this dish in a Star Trek movie ...
At 10:49 AM, Dana Fredsti said…
Yes...and they washed it down with Romulan Ale. Or perhaps Tranya!
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