That title may be a slight bit generous. Paradise probably isn’t a place where you sit in traffic every weekday morning on your way to work. In paradise you probably don’t even have to work at all. And I’ll bet it gets warmer than the fifties in March over in paradise. But northern California does have palm trees and plenty of sunshine, along with gorgeous mountains, a beautiful bay, not to mention the Pacific right around the corner. So perhaps it isn’t paradise, but it is certainly close!
And I can’t seem to think of a better thing to do in this paradise-like environment than to go out and bask in everything that the world around me has to offer. This weekend was another amazing one. I spent Friday night sipping gin and tonics at Stanford for Dan’s 22nd birthday celebration. His friends and housemates seem to have accepted me as one of their own, which is so nice. He lives in a house called Phi Sig, which is a fraternity house that for some reason no longer houses a fraternity. The people are extremely friendly and outgoing so I always have a nice time over there.
On Saturday the house took a trip to San Francisco to tour the Museum of Modern Art (SFMoMA), and guess who got to go along? I guess they had booked the trip for a few more people than actually wanted to go, so I was extended the invitation, and boy did I accept! Dan and I drove to the city separately and met up with everyone in front of the museum, where we were given our tickets (thanks Stanford!). Once in the museum, I stared up and found myself in a giant atrium filled with light. It was at least 6 stories high. Generous stories at that. What a building! Dark granite, arranged in an alternating shiny and dull pattern for effect, stretched across the whole floor in front of me.
I could see a staircase ahead, which turns out is the entrance to the whole affair. We headed for it and proceeded upward, handing our tickets in for admission. The second floor featured some really random modern art, the wackiest of which I still remember- one was a white canvas, painted that way by some guy around the 1950s. Another was a single bluish-white fluorescent tube lamp. Another was simply a white porcelain urinal, lying down with a signature on one side. It read, “R. Mutt, 1917”. I really don’t get modern art! 
They did have some cool stuff, like the twin busts, one cast in soap and the other in chocolate. The soap one was all sudsy and the other had been licked by the artist. Yum!
We made our way up to the third floor, where we found some photography exhibits. Finally something I could relate to! There was a large section devoted to Gabriele Basilico, a well regarded Italian photographer who came to the SF Bay area recently to photograph the freeway system, among other aspects of the region. The photographs were all large size and most were black and white. There was a strong emphasis on the glass and steel architecture common in Silicon Valley office buildings, along with the metal and asphalt of the highways in the area. His photographs of San Francisco were amazing.
Taken from afar, it seemed like I could see the entire city! All the bridges and famous skyscrapers, along with the huge rainbow flag at Castro and Market, were visible in the photo. I couldn’t wait to climb whatever hill that shot was taken from and see it all for my own eyes! Upstairs, we came across another photo exhibit, which I was delighted to see. The entire floor was devoted to the works of Lee Friedlander, who I’ll confess I had never heard of. It turns out that he is an extremely accomplished and respected American photographer who has been photographing the US and its people for decades. He shoots everything from landscapes to nudes to general Americana, but I was most interested in his portraits. As a budding photographer, I find nothing more difficult than to shoot a really great, candidly arranged portrait. This guy can definitely pull it off, and for that he definitely earns my respect. 
I think after all those exhibits, we had pretty much had it with art for the day. We rode the fancy art gallery elevators back to the bottom of the atrium and met up with the rest of the group. Luckily, the second leg of the field trip was dinner over at Biscuits and Blues, a southern comfort style restaurant that also happened to be a blues club! I had never tried Jambalaya before, so when I heard it was on the menu, my mind was made up. When it came, it was spectacular. So much flavor and plenty of heat! Soon after, the illustrious E.C. Scott and her band came out to entertain us with some awesome blues.
 Now I must admit, I thought blues was a genre filled with slow and sad music about your baby who left you and all that. Well not tonight it wasn’t! This lady was quite the entertainer. She ran around the room all night, seeking help from the audience to assist her in singing such memorable tunes as “Keep Filling Me Up,” and “Baby If You Don’t Love Me, I Know How to Love Myself”. And let me just say that judging by the full-on, all out, onstage faked orgasm we were all so lucky to have witnessed from the audience prior to her singing of the aforementioned tune, this Ms. Scott was taking those lyrics in the most adult sense possible! Let me not forget to mention the five solid minutes that were spent listening to the band play background music as she wandered the room inquiring about all the men’s shoe sizes. She was particularly delighted when she located a gent wearing size 14s! And let me also not forget about when she felt it necessary to disclose to the entire audience that despite her rather portly stature, she “weighs 95 between the sheets.” Umm, wow. Needless to say, we were all a little surprised but altogether tickled by the experience and left with smiles on our faces.
The Stanford folks headed home, while Dan and I drove over to the Inner Sunset neighborhood to meet some old school friends of his from the east coast. As we cruised down Market Street towards our destination, I found myself extremely drawn to the hills that grace the south and western regions of San Francisco. I knew that those hills, dotted all over with orange tinted streetlamps which were absolutely beautiful from a distance, would give a spectacular view of the lower portions of downtown at night. After having seen this vista in the photograph earlier in the day, I knew it would be worth the trip. With San Fran’s 24/7 club beats radio station playing, we headed toward higher elevations and found what we were looking for. Steep and windy streets revealed view after breathtaking view of the city’s bridges, downtown neighborhoods, and everything else between us and the bay.
 Dan’s friends were expecting us so we had to move along. It had definitely been worth our time though. I vowed to myself to return in the daytime with a camera.
We arrived at Ninth and Judah in the Inner Sunset and found a space close to the corner. We called up to the apartment using the intercom and were subsequently granted access to the building by the obligatory loud and annoying buzzer-door opener device. Why they haven’t invented a more pleasant sounding solution to this problem, the world may never know. As we passed through the dimly lit lobby, I couldn’t help but stop and notice the gorgeous terra cotta tiled floors and what appeared to be a hand-painted ceiling. I couldn’t believe such attention to detail had been given to the small lobby of an apartment house. San Francisco is an unusual place, I suppose.
The duration of the evening was spent chatting it up with Dan’s amazingly fun friends, who had only arrived in San Francisco three weeks prior but appeared to be loving it. We hung out in their apartment sipping “Fat Tire,” a west coast amber ale that I found particularly tolerable.
 We eventually moved the conversation down the block to a nearby bar with a perfectly positioned fireplace. The clock had nearly struck one when Dan and I excused ourselves and hopped into a cab headed for the SOMA neighborhood, where our dance club destination lovingly known as “The Stud” awaited.
An hour or so of dancing and debauchery later, we made our way back into a cab and headed to the quieter parts of town from which we came. Dan’s friend had given us a spare key and permission to sleep on their brand new IKEA couch that happened to convert perfectly into a bed for two. After an adventurous cab ride, during which I was reportedly quite chatty with the cabbie regarding various cab driver topics, we stepped onto the curb and up into the somewhat firm but nevertheless convenient IKEA couch-bed. Sleep was had by all.
Now friends, please forgive me but it is late and I must work in the morning. That said, Part 2 of the weekend adventures will be coming in another day or two. Hope you enjoyed it.
PS-I didn’t bring my camera to SF so the images are all pulled from around the web.
|
Michael my love.
I love your blogging. I miss you so dearly. I hope to get to the SanFran area this summer and see you, and meet this new Dan fella.
I love you. Please enjoy all of the sun and warmth while you can. It's the first day of spring here and mighty cold.
come home soon