The Best July Ever

Historically summer is a poor season for me. I make plans, have a check list of projects to finish and then they don’t happen for one unhappy reason or another. Not this year. I was visiting my sister in Snohomish and had a moment in the shower to wish for a good summer. One I would remember fondly. So far so good.

First I went to the Evergreen Air and Space Museum in McMinnville with a friend. She offered the day trip as a christmas present and off we went on a glorious hot day. It is home to the legendary Spruce Goose, which is a big ass plane so, of course, is the building it’s in- Gignormous in fact.

Two weeks later I was on the Coast Starlight train bound for San Francisco and a family reunion with my three other sibs: Susan, Mike and Bruce and an old high school friend we kept in touch with. 

We spent the first day lounging on a houseboat in Sausalito, kayaking in the bay, eating burgers, fresh grilled shrimp and corn. It was rough but we managed. We moved over to B’s house for the remainder of the trip. We came primarily to work on B’s house while it’s being remodeled so the place was a construction zone. It didn’t look much different from the last time I saw it and I was prepared for a mess. 

The last time I was in SF I went to visit my favorite place, the Science Museum in Golden Gate Park and it was ruinous due to my hip acting up all of a sudden. It was fine the rest of the trip and the experience spooked me. This time my hip was fine so all four sibs headed out. There is a giant bubble shaped room for the Rain Forest exhibit where birds and tropical butterflies fly around freely. I  always wanted one to land on me. I was wearing a hat with bright buttons and a gorgeous Sapphire Aphro (?) decided to land on it and chill out with my traveling buddy Moose. My sister, quite the good photographer, took the best picture ever. The aquarium there is also amazing . We wandered all over and never lost each other despite the huge crowds.

That night at B’s house we had a big party with old and new friends and brother Mike whipped up seafood for dinner. Now SF is a major foodie town and normally I go out a lot when I’m there but we had great meals every day at the house because of  great cooking from everyone. 

Susan had to fly back on Sunday so as we assembled on the deck for a group photo we were startled by a flock of SF’s legendary parrots of Telegraph hill ( on the other side of town) flying overhead. It was a good omen.

I brought some hand tools along for the remodeling work but didn’t need to as the brothers did electrical work so there was nothing for me to do there. I felt rather useless until our hostess asked for my help organizing her stuff. 

If there is a destiny for me it putting things in order. I was born organized and excel at it. The daughter’s bedroom floor covered with clothes. Put in order, check. The bookshelf in the entry that was dusty and scattered. Check. The laundry room impassable. It’s clear now. Oh by the way if anyone needs to know where something is for the next couple of weeks just call me and I’ll tell you where it is because I remember these things.

Our family had a tradition of taking a picture of our feet propped up with a beer nearby and a view. It started with Susan’s photo while in Cozumel that looked like a Corona commercial. We’re always looking to top it. I got mine on the ferry to and from Sausalito with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. Not the best arrangement but it worked. Counting the round trip ticket and beer, this photo cost me $28.

I had to leave. I really had no reason to rush but it was time to get home. I got to the Emeryville station by bus from the Ferry building. The driver was amazing, maneuvering the huge bus through traffic and pulling into a parking space between two other buses at the station. I applauded his performance. 

Considering the trip home I should have stayed another day. First let me say who ever thought putting a station in Emeryville and not boarding passengers at Oakland just down the road is an idiot and should be shot. Since the train leaves late, there is nothing open nearby to get snacks, including the cafe in the station. The sign announcing train arrivals does not actually announce all the train arrivals as a smaller sign next to it indicates. 

For that you have to get the attention of one of the surly staff. It was such a bother to answer your questions. The train, which starts in LA was three hours late. It’s usually Union Pacific’s fault but this time it was Amtrak’s. Seems they hit a pedestrian in Simi Valley (they survived)  and never made up the time. It was another eight minutes late when two luxury cars hired by some celebrity had to be connected in Oakland. We all glared at the cars as we passed by them to the rest of the train. Which was a shame because that is the ultimate way to travel. Normally I can’t sleep in the uncomfortable coach seats but I was so tired I was out immediately. 

By and large the Amtrak crews are nice and I’ve had few problems with them. The conductor, to my surprise, was a tall blonde woman who was friendly and efficient at handling 300 people. Alas the bistro cafe attendent was not. This woman managed to piss off  just about everyone with her indifference toward service and control issues “only three people in the bistro area at once” she ordered. Three and half hours late, I was glad to get off the train.

A minor irritation compared to the memories of an otherwise wonderful reunion and a great time in the City by the Bay. Eating lunch at a favorite old haunt ”The Sauage Factory” on Castro St. Sitting in a hot tub in Richmond over looking the bay with a full moon. Eating the best made soft pretzel at Firebrand Bakery while watching the baker make up a batch of goat cheese filled Brioche. Watching the America's Cup boat the "Oracle" zoom by at 30 knots on the bay. Making breakfast for the gang. Riding the old street car down Market Street.  

I can’t wait to go  back.

San Francisco Open Your Golden Gate-pt. 4

"Am I a Butterfly Dreaming I am Alisa or am I Alisa Dreaming that I am a Butterfly?"

The best part of the curtailed trip to the museum in the park was the Amazon Rain Forest exhibit. Inside of a very large three story dome exotic birds and butterflies flit about as visitors walk up a spiraling ramp. A sign warns people not to take photos with a flash as the Macaw is sensitive to the light and everyone behaves. The other birds are tiny and hard to spot among the foliage. Not the butterflies, they are bright and fly among the crowds making themselves quite visible.

Almost as much fun as watching them is watching people react to the beautiful creatures. A large planter held blooming flowers which attracted the butterflies so you could observe them from a very close distance. One girl even had one land on her hand ( despite a sign asking people not to touch them ). She was still and quiet unlike a nosier boy who jostled through the group, trying to get in on the action but the butterflies wanted nothing to do with him. The children reacted to the low flying with joy while the adults flinched and waved their arms as if they were being dive bombed by bats.

A sign and an elevator attendant asked people to make sure they didn’t have any hitchhiking bugs on them when leaving. I imagine that happens occasionally. The elevator arrives and two butterflies watch in anticipation of an escape. “Louie the doors are open, let’s make a run for it.” only to be caught by another keeper waiting downstairs. Damn.

San Francisco Open Your Golden Gate-part 3

Randomness in Lieu of a Narrative

A few observations. The most frequent words I saw were organic and recycle. Californians are big on reducing their carbon footprint and eating healthier. In fact, I think we need to have a contest to see which State / community can maintain the best quality of life with the smallest impact on the environment.

Tourists at the museum were taken aback at the variety of trash cans for recyclables, trash and compost. Eugeneans in their politically correct to reach out to Hispanics have signs and announcements on public transportation in English and Spanish. On SF buses all signs /announcements are only in English with one except where the sign was in English, Chinese and Spanish. Of course in other parts of town you will find signs and speakers in Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, Italian and Filipino. A real melting pot.

Once again I couldn’t help notice that wherever I went, the service was exemplary. Everyone was pleasant and attentive. Not like the dour, grumpy types in Eugene. I’m sorry Eugene has many good features and a quality of life that many would envy but service from clerks, waiters, and other service people is not one of them. This remarkable considering California is broker than Oregon.

Watching the local news was depressing. ”We’re cutting everything cause we’re broke and oh yeah, here’s the latest gruesome murder. Next the weather, depending on where you are it’s going to be foggy, cool or warm and sunny.” on the bright side, the newscasters looked like they just stepped out of a modeling agency. Even when destitute Californians look great.

San Francisco Open Your Golden Gate-part2

The Roadway of Death and Other Driving Hazards


Most books claiming to be the best travel guide are high on concept and low on reality. Getting around San Francisco for example, you need to know how to deal with public transportation, what parts of town to avoid and where to score some good pot. If you are like most people who insist on driving here are some handy tips.

Drive defensively- I mean like Jason Bourne being chased by cops and KGB in Moscow defensive. This means stomping alternately on the gas and brakes- especially when on a steep hill and the traffic light changes. Three words here: master the clutch.

Think small- Anything bigger than a Honda civic is unmanageable. Don't believe it? Practice driving down a one way alley with cars parked on both sides and parallel park in a space roughly the size of a bathtub.

Think Indy 500 while on any major freeway. Don’t expect to be going the posted speed limit that is merely there as a “suggestion”. I was treated to the white knuckle experience of traveling 85 miles -in the slow lane - on the hiway of death while the crazy brother chatted merrily on his cell phone. I did mention I hate cell phones.

The Pedestrian is God .When you see a pedestrian step off the curb that is the signal to stop and you are not allowed to go until they are on the opposite sidewalk. Don’t worry the crosswalk sign counts down how long the poor, slow two legged creature has to get their ass across while the drivers are poised to stomp on the gas at the first opportunity. No pressure.

Remember it’s not just driving it’s an experience in terror and wear your seat belt.

San Francisco Open Your Golden Gate-part 1

A Vacation was in order. I got my ticket, packed my bag and was off to SF by train. I crashed at an old friends place with one of the best views ever. The company was good, the couch I slept on was comfortable and best of all the food was fantastic. Forget the sight seeing, I’m there for the food.

I met up with my brother and SB and MP for lunch- all the names have been changed to protect the innocent and avoid embarrassment. SB looked exactly the same and MP was as lovably eccentric as ever. Strange how we get older but time stands still with our memories. I damn near collapsed from fatigue as we went for a walk in the park nearby. I forgot that I barely slept on the train. An afternoon nap took care of that.

I had a couple of places I had to visit on the trip and one of them was the Academy of Science in Golden Gate Park, which I glimpsed on the walk after lunch. The Steinhart Aquarium and the De Young Museum across the concourse had been damaged years before in the big earthquake and were completely rebuilt. It was my favorite haunt when I lived there and missed it the last time I visited because of construction. I would not miss this time and planned to spend the whole day there checking out the new exhibits and seeing a planetarium show. Alas events conspired against me.

First I was hit in the head with a frying pan by the world famous artist mother of my hostess. “Oh I’m sorry I thought you were someone else.” she said innocently. Damn these paranoid artists. No that’s not what happened, actually I slipped and hit my head on a metal chair but being blind sided by an old lady sounds more dramatic. The head injury was minor and quickly attended to but the fall wrenched my already sore back.

By the time I made my pilgrimage to the park the back injury made walking painful and I was so stressed I had cut the visit short. No planetarium, no Japanese Garden. I already felt crappy with a persistent couch that wouldn’t go away and this really made me miserable. Once I rested a bit my back was fine the rest of the trip.

A party was planned to welcome the return of the prodigal daughter of the hostess who had been out of the country ( the daughter, not the hostess- I hate dangling participles don’t you?). We went on a shopping spree and got lots of goodies. My big bother- I mean brother- made seafood pasta and I was in charge of sausage marinara.

We also went to an ice cream shop with the oddest flavors I have ever tasted. Peanut butter curry, chili lime, bourbon and corn flakes and the oddest government cheese. They were out of the ham ice cream big brother was looking for. The flavors were a big hit at dessert.