The San Francisco Chronic-Alls
| Originally intended as a short travelogue of my stint on the West Coast this year, it kinda grew out of hand. Published for the first time together, my complete San Francisco Chronic-Alls. |
To: myfolks
Date: Sat, 4 Sep 1999 20:17:54 -0800
From: Sheldon J King <sheldon@artec.org.uk>
Subject: The San Francisco Chronic-alls
Phew! So, I finally got here!
Firstly, a special thanks to those of you who attended one of my various nites out before my departure. It was great to see you all!
So, what can you say about the Bay Area that not everyone's heard before?
You betcha I can find something!
Enjoy!
S.x
- - -
You May Confer
The Developer's Conference was a blast. It was ultra-mega-hard work, [and yes the e mail fired off from poolside was definitely a one-off], but a very worthwhile event indeed. I tended to be rather hotel-bound as there was a bit of an energy deficit what with the jet lag and all [that extra 3 hours really kills!], but when it got to the point after spending a day in a different hotel that I was thinking <oh, good, home> when I arrived at our Front Desk, that is was time to get out for a while.
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The Kicker
Found the line dancing in San Diego. SD, incidentally, has some amazing nightlife and some super-friendly people [you know who you are ;0)], and whilst my forays into the Hillcrest district [can anyone say <camp!>] were all to short, I had great fun. Didn't get my planned <Big Saturday Night Out> in SD, but it's only an hour flight away .....
Do You Know The Way ....
One town is very much like another in the US. You could usually be forgiven for thinking you were anywhere else. San Jose is no different, and because of the temperate climate, I keep thinking I'm in Florida. SJ has more culture but less friendly people than, say, Tampa, and a much wider ethnic diversity. I still catch my breath when I turn a corner and see the mountains - remembering that this isn't flat-ol' Florida!
Opps Equals
We are considering the Stratisoft SJ office as a microcosm of cultural diversity. There are certainly a lot more women working in IS over here than anywhere else I've seen.
The Cobbler's Children Still Have No Shoes
So here I am, the technology centre of the cosmoverse. Apple, Microsoft, Cisco and 3Com only minutes drive away. Can I get a mobile phone with IRDA to connect to my PowerBook? Can I buggery! Can I find a really good on-line guide to the area [a la Scoot in the UK]? Can I heck as like! Perhaps they're all so busy with the next big thing that they forgot to exploit the technologies they just invented. When was the last time any of your EuroFolks god a busy signal from your ISP???
socialnet.com - people you click with™*
I don't have a TV in the apartment. Bliss. Unfortunately, it means I spend more time with my e mail than perhaps I'd like. Still, apparently, the ol' .com thing is totally integrated here. This doesn't account for the palpable lack of useful content, however.
* A <genuine> advertising slogan, and my nomination for tag-line of the year!
goodafternoonstratisoftthisissheldon
The West-coasters are just as big suckers for an English accent as the rest of 'em! I've had to adjust my telephone answering, however, due to an oversubscription of assonances. Now Eric [our VP of IS] wants everyone in the office to answer with an English accent.
It's All Done With Mirrors
It's funny how Americans have the propensity to make everything seem larger than it is. It's like Creme Egg Syndrome. Stuff is made to look bigger and more appetising, and better value that it really is. In actuality, its messy on the outside and messier on the inside. And so, is San Francisco.
The Castreau
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Much easier to find than I thought it would be, the Castro is pretty much everything you'd expect. Everything, that is, except the overwhelming pressure to conform. Be a happy same-sex [male] couple, and live ever after with joint life insurance and in a loft apartment. Incidentally, do correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought a loft apartment, by definition, could only be on the top floor?
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KiraDyke
Welcome to the Castro parallel universe. Heterosexuals are in a distinct minority, one is to assume a business is gay owned and operated unless explicitly stated otherwise, we all hold hands and kiss in the street, and .... well, all that stuff those of use who don't care do everywhere anyway. Advertisements are aimed at happy gays, the Casto Theatre is as camp as can be, and there are rainbow flags everywhere and on everything.
Driving, later, through San Francisco's downtown, I saw a man and a woman holding hands. <A mixed-sex couple>, I found myself thinking, <how refreshing!>.
Everything You Want from the Store and A Little Bit More
The Safeway on Market Street in Castro, where Michael Tolliver was known to pick up a thing or two, really is a cruisy as it it purported to be. Even at 8am! Certainly makes the branch at Stamford Hill look a little ropey.
On the Disco Floor I Wanna Dance
OK, so there are bars, and clubs and cafes, and they're all, really, pretty cool, once you get over the tear in the space-time continuum. The people are pretty great, and if you're looking for a residence with some serious character [and an equally sobering price tag], then this is the place for you. There is also abundant good food, and some amazing views, parks and drives.
I have some more exploring to do, I'm sure, but it's all looking pretty good so far!
Alms, alms for a miserable woman ...
Oh, but I'd forgotten about the street people. SF has more per square inch, than, by my reckoning London and New York combined. You come back down to earth with a bump when acosted by one for some of that mythical stuff they call <*spare* change>. SF business are promoting a scheme where posters urge you to not give change, but help make change, by donating to and volunteering to help recognized homelessness charities. London could do well to follow suit!
Mist and Foghorns
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The Golden Gate Bridge. I'm convinced I haven't made it to SF until I've seen it. I stayed there this morning so I could, replete with sunrise. Unfortunately, there's too much mist, so a sunrise over the Golden Gate is pretty unlikely. Oh, and it's brass monkey's there this time of year!
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And Finally ...
It's great to be here! I'm slowly adjusting to the new surroundings and the new work.
I think it's all gonna be OK :0)
S.x |
| San Fran Chronic-Alls | More ... | RiceCakes |
More San Francisco Chronic-Alls
To: myfolks
Date: Thu, 14 Oct 1999 00:13:02 -0800
From: Sheldon J King <sheldon@artec.org.uk>
Subject: More San Francisco Chronic-alls
The Bridge of Sighs
No, I still haven't bloody seen it
Two Nights in San Francisco
Welcome to the Mecca. Two snapshots. Take Saturday and Sunday night of this weekend.
Saturday was full of obnoxious teenagers, and drugged out muscle mary's in the swanky modern surroundings of the glossiest new bars and clubs. Not all my idea, but I was hanging out with friends from Florida.
Sunday was spend daahn The Stud at the famed <Relapse> retro nite. Gotta love the name. Anyhow, kewel mixed crowd, someone else's retro [which is always wierd - the 80's were different Stateside, you know]. The venue, beautifully complimenting the Souxie and Erasure and Men Down Under, in so much as it hasn't been touched since at least 1981. And long may it stay that way. To Cappuchino would be to lose a gem. There seems to be less of a propensity to dolly places up here than there does in Europe. If you leave it alone long enough, either it becomes an institution or they book you into one.
Oh, and there is a retailer around the corner, going under the name of <The Bear Store>. I look forward to perusing their merchandise shortly ;0).
Nothing a Good Stiff Polk Shouldn't Fix
And so to the Polk district. This is where, apparently, the whole <mecca> thang got started. It's gonna be a short paragraph, because I'm not going to be able to find much to say. It's a street. It has lots and *lots* of bars on it. There seems to be no-one in them [Saturday Nite between 2000 and 2300hrs]. This is a recurring theme in this city.
Sometimes I ask people <where does everybody go, then>. The answer I usually get is the vocal equivalent of a blank stare.
Oh, and just try to park around there. For a place with a bad case of no-one about, there sure seem to be a lot of vehicles. Don't even get me started .....
Castro Street Fayre
Should probably be subtitled <somebody else's Pride>. The Castro Street Fair is the Castro's Pride. Actually, it's a premium bragging forum for those balmy enough to pay the rents to live there. It's the one day that they troll in and out of their $1500/month 250 square-foot apartments about a million times to say <Look at meeee! I live in the Castro! I'm so great! ... and you you live ... where, exactly?!?>
It's also a perfect opportunity to furnish said bijou lattie with all the rainbow paraphernalia that a modern queen needs. Definately the largest collection I've ever seen.
That aside, the Fair supplies more drink, fun and dance that one could reasonably ask for on a balmy Sunday afternoon. There was line dancing, natch, barbecues, and stalls galore offering every conceivable service or minority interest.
Shall we talk about the men? Well, we could, as there are no young 'uns on the list. However, if I were to roll my eyes heavenward and reach for a seat, you'd know what I meant.
The prize for hunk of the day, however, goes to one of the SFPD officers in attendance. I'm sure they are supplied to be looking after us, but honies, this one could look after me anytime ;0)
Where the Streets Have No Name
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San Francisco and London have a lot in common. One of those things is the baffling city layout. More exceptions than rules. Streets that start and stop almost on a whim. Turn a blind corner and you're on the on-ramp to the Interstate and there's nothing you can do about it.
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One of the oddest things, however, is that here in the good-ol' modern valley, streets seem to meld together almost invisibly. One moment you're on Scott Street merrily heading North, the next, in the blink of an eye, you're on Arques, heading West.
It's OK, however, as from what I can tell this seems to baffle even the locals.
The Bridge - Actually The View
So I finally got there. Sat in traffic for *hours* one sticky Saturday afternoon, determined to see that bridge. Actually, it's my refusal to sit in traffic to see Half Moon Bay that ended me up there. No, I don't know what's at Half Moon Bay either, but I liked the name, and it seemed easy enough to get to. SR92 soon put paid to that.
So, I saw the Golden Gate Bridge. Drove over it. And back, if you don't mind. It's not actually very exciting. There's none of the overwhelming sense of privilege one gets when driving over, for example, Tower Bridge.
There is, however, the most incredible view of the Bay, the City and just about everything else for miles. Go for that. But don't go when it's foggy ....
Where the Beach has no Name
So you keep driving, you end up a the San Francisco West Coast. What a sublime place. Three things I've not seen on a beach since the last time I was at Southend On Sea [a *long* time ago]:
- Black Gunge coating the sand - wouldn't like to hazard a guess what that was about
- A Corpse - belonging to what I could only determine as being a small mammal of some description
- A Windmill - actually, two, big, wood, one with sails, one without
The whole place is blanketed in the eeriest of silence you every experienced. It must be to do with the coastline or something, the the road and houses are *way* back from the beach, and the tide reach is not very far at all. The beach is moderately busy, if cold, but you only hear people as you pass near them or they you.
The sea walls are scarred various passionate declarations of love, anger and contrition, each of which, no doubt, concealing another San Francisco story. Ahead of them in the sand are the [illegal] burnt-out fires of gatherings which no-doubt lasted into the very early hours of this morning.
Not unlike how one imagines being trapped in an episode of Sapphire and Steel would feel.
Them Damned English
Bloody everywhere. Fly 6000-odd miles to get away from them and here they are, out in force. Everywhere I go, I meet folk from England. The weekend of the Castro Street Fair, there were at least five of us at the Sundance Saloon event that followed. Wonder outside for a quiet ciggie as one of my friends did, and get chatting to some bloke. From Wimbledon.
Decide that a tofu burger is a good idea at one o'clock one Saturday morning, and who do you end up sitting next to? Some English woman, sneezing madly as if allergic to her surroundings.
Find you way to one of SF's seeder bar offerings [details under separate cover to anyone who's interested], to discover the doorman is from Sussex.
Them Danmed Australians
Actually there aren't any Australians here. Coo, what a breather from Belsize Park!
There are, however, plenty of Californians who can't tell the difference between the English and the Australian.
It goes something like this:
Me: Hello
They: Well hi! Well, I like your accent. [pause for thought] Where are you from?
Me: [opens mouth but fear it may already be too late to deflect the ...]
They: AUSTRALIA!!!???
Me: Gaaaaah!
They: Oh, but, I thought, with, you know, your accent, that you may be, well, you know .... are you English?
Me: Actually yes. Know how you can tell? We're the ones who let out a gasp of anguish when accused of being Austrailan ...
At least most Southerners are so insulated they don't know about Australians and so can't make a guess so tragically wrong ......
Clacton-on-Sea, California Style
Exit the valley in a westerly direction, and a short hop-skip and some bad driving later [them, not me], one finds oneself in Santa Cruz. Famous home of ... well, nothing really. It's a [very] small seaside town with mediocre beaches and a freezing cold sea. You see, the Florida boy in me expects the water to be warm by now. It's not.
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Anyhow, unlike Clacton, SC still has it's amusements in-tact, and houses one of the oldest rollercoasters still in operation. It seems to be made entirely of wood, and, were it a house in the South, it would have been condemned long ago. Still, a day of being six years old again never did anyone any harm, and it certainly didn't me. Santa Cruz is also, incidentally, the home of the largest ring doughnuts I've ever seen.
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I Wanna Hear A Bear Creek
Speaking of the drive, you really pass through some odd placenames here. OK, so not Cornwall-odd, but odd, nonetheless. Subsequent to my journey today, I decided I wanted a log cabin in a place called Bear Creek, if for no other reason than for the endless permutations and innuendo derived from mis- and re- pronouncing it. Where do you live? Bear Creek - hahahahah!
Oh, and it's <Crick>, not <Creek>
It seems to me that I'm starting to sound [and write] like a local faster than ever before. They're starting to sound like me. American's like to say <cheers> all of a sudden when I'm around. I've caught myself hissing <awwwww, maaaaan!> under my breath, but worse, <I'm doin' great!>, <pop the trunk> and <he'll be right witch'a> are three phrases that seem to have slipped, effortlessly into my vocabulary. I am thankful that I haven't started saying things like <dope!> in order to refer to something that is <good> [as I understand it], but sharing the apartment for a couple of weeks with a bro' from The Smog is really not helping things one bit.
Peace [oh, it just gets worse!]
S.x
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| San Fran Chronic-Alls | More ... | RiceCakes |
Ricecakes - or - So, That Was Silicon Valley
To: San Francisco Chronic-Alls List
Date: Tue, 22 Nov 1999 10:13:02 -0500
From: Sheldon J King <sheldon@artec.org.uk>
Subject: So, That Was Silicon Valley
Well, it was a very fast three months, and I'm still trying to process it all.
For your delectation, a breakdown of the good, the bad and the ugly.
Good
- The Weather
Definately a redeeming feature of the Santa Clara Valley [as it it properly known]. Warm, sunny and bright.
- The People
Valley folk are really *really* nice people. Very low instances of things like <Road Rage>. In fact, folk drive, on the whole, very considerately.
- The Shopping
You want malls, we got malls. Lots of them. And they're *huge*.
- The Proximity to San Fran
An easy out when the bad and the ugly take hold.
Bad
- The Topology and Environment
Mountains are great. When you're surrounded by them, however, you need to get over them or through them to get out.
- The Pollution
A brown haze hung over the mountains for the bulk of my stay. Because there isn't much rain in the summer, and the mountains buffer the coastal winds, there's little to clean or change the air.
- The Social Scene
Everyone in the Valley is in bed by half-past-ten. I can't really blame them for wanting to spend the maximum time possible in their preposterously expensive houses [see below], but for a vibrant nightlife it does not make.
- The Price of Real Estate
Let's not even *go* there.
Ugly
- The Skyline
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There are obviously no architects with any real talent in the Valley. Either that or they get overriden every time by the <Cookie Cutter> brigade. When flair rears it's [ugly] head, the manifestation is in the bizarre. The <Aztec> themed Fry's Electronics store is one example, and the Nokia campus' inept building-turret-building configuration another.
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- The Rigid Conformity
Wanna sit in traffic? Next to London, and Manhattan, this has got to be the place. The problems, however, all stem from the millstone of conformity. Everyone has to go somewhere at once. Everyone has to eat at once, and go to the movies at once. If, however, you can arrange to pursue these activities outside the pre-ordained times, then an oasis of peace and open roads awaits you.
- <The Next Big Thing> Syndrome
Valley companies are so busy inventing stuff, they never seem to have time to put their technologies to good use. Silicon Valley should be the telecommuting capital of the world. It's not. It should also have the most advanced local internet services [both provisioning and content] and whilst efforts are underway, there are still some considerable distances to be covered.
- <The Disney Complex>
Silicon Valley is a lot like Disneyland for a number of reasons, not limited to: There are no bugs; Everything is scrubbed clinically clean; There are arse-all places to eat; You have to queue. A lot; All vegetation is obsessively trimmed and managed; New attractions are always being formulated to attract even more people. These are often half-arsed and disappointing; it's a long way from anything approaching a sensible airport.
So, I guess all in all not a terrible place. What will bring me back? Absolutely the friends I have made since I arrived. Possibly the work. In any event, you'll see me again, Silicon Valley!
In the meantime if anybody wants me ... I'll be in Florida!
S.x |
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