As a child, I loved playgrounds. What child doesn’t, right? However, as most children of the 80’s will remember, our playgrounds weren’t made of the colorful, cushy plastic and foam-like springboards that they are today. The play structures of my childhood were molded out of metal and wood. So in the warmer months, if you were smart, you always remembered to take a jacket to sit on while you were on the slide, or you would most likely burn your little buns off. You could also guarantee a splinter or two from climbing around on the wooden structures, or from running around in the wood chips that were supposed to help cushion your fall. Yes, the playgrounds of my childhood were basically the equivalent to the witch’s house in Hansel and Gretel, they looked very inviting, but were essentially a nicely packaged deathtrap.
It was a rainy weeknight, I had just gotten off of work, and I was “jonesing” to go someplace a bit different to imbibe in a tasty beverage. I had recently heard of a “secret garage bar” in NoPa which sounded perfect for the occasion. As you will soon discover, I am a stickler for all things considered “secret” and “underground,” which is probably why I have such a strong affinity for the Roaring 20’s. There’s just something about an era that manifested Speakeasy’s, the dawning of women’s lib, and the bohemian lifestyle that gives me that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. But I’m getting off topic…
Upon our arrival, my compadre and I were greeted by this radiant vision, who I later learned was the portrait of a lovely (and anonymous) woman whom one of the owners met in Mexico. Looking up at the Señorita’s luminous and somewhat sassy smile, I instantly had a good feeling about the place.
One of the many things that I like to do on my day off is to play tourist in my own backyard, and I had the perfect excuse to do that last weekend when I had a friend visiting from out of-town. It was a beautiful afternoon, so we decided to take the F Market streetcar down to explore Fisherman’s Wharf, along with two other friends that we had invited to join us.
As we arrived at Pier 39 we were welcomed by “Crusty” the crab waving hello, a blues-type band playing, what I like to refer to as “baby-making” music, and the delicious aroma of waffle cones. Continue reading
It was a gorgeous, spring day for the season opener of Picnic at the Presidio. I arrived around noon to discover that the Main Post Lawn was already brimming full of sunbathers and picnickers enjoying their delicious finds from the over twenty food trucks, carts, and tents lining both sides of the lawn.