#272, San Francisco
It was so cold that July afternoon in San Francisco, the numbers put themselves in italics. I found this one on a quiet street in the Mission district in between sound check at the Elbo Room on Valencia and a dinner that consisted of burritos the size of my head. Ever since I first heard American Music Club's album San Francisco, the city -- with its odd combination of cold and California -- has always had a certain degree of romance. An afternoon stroll through San Francisco's chilly, brightly colored streets and improbable doll house houses was just what I needed in the middle of a tour that mostly made up of Arizona desert, crowded vehicles, and hot stage lights. The slopes, the streets, the flower boxes, and the fog: I could get used to this, I thought to myself. Even if it is on that other coast.
3 comments:
While we were living in LA, we went up north quite often.
One of our best friends lives there, and it was nice to get away from the sprawl and painted stucco for the more compact environs of Victorian bric-a-brac.
We were seriously considering moving there before making the choice to come to Chicago. Needed a little bit more of a big city in our lives.
SF is charming as hell, but New York is where I'd rather stay!
Victorian bric-a-brac: you nailed it! Yeah, it's tempting over there, but my Midwestern self clearly knew which coast was calling.
What IS that oozing out from under the sill?
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