Hey gang. I just got back from two weeks of Navy reserve duty in the great town of San Francisco. Here are a few impressions.
What a gorgeous city. The geographic setting truly is one of the most spectactular in the world.
I’m a diehard country boy from way back, but over my life I have had opportunities to do extended work stints in several metropoli, and have enjoyed them all. In my younger days, I’d have sought out the cultural stuff with a vengeance, but lately I have enjoyed just tramping around the streets, watching the people, having a beer on curbside cafes, etc. I seem to have become something of an appreciative observer rather than a hurried partaker. My favorite thing is to pick up the local paper every morning and just get a feel for the place. The free rags are usually the most amusing.
Well, I recant some of that. I did spend about 9 of my 14 nights scouting out traditional Irish sessions in the local pubs. I played tune after tune with many of the left coast’s nicest musicians. I drove up to 3 hours away from the city, ostensibly to look for outlying pockets of musicians, but actually just to see the countryside. I played sets for ceili dancers in a wee town in the foothills of the Sierras, as well as in one of the most radical leftie pubs in Berkeley.
Out of Sausalito, I took an afternoon sail on Lynx, a reproduction of an 1812 topsail schooner. We tacked around San Francisco bay, having a good-natured fight with our 6-pound guns against the Bay’s other resident square-rigger, Hawaiian Chieftain. By all reckoning, we sank her about twice. She only sank us about once.
During the first week, two America’s cup boats had a rare series of match races only yards from the edge of the waterfront, where they were easily viewable by the public. One was Larry Ellison’s (CEO of Oracle) boat, the other a Swiss boat. These gargantuans towered over everything else in the bay, except for the big container ships of course. It looked quite exciting, and I wish I’d had a better chance to follow their tactics.
I caught the nouveau Irish-American band Solas (Irish for “light”) at the Freight & Salvage in Berkeley.
With my mildly fundamentalist upbringing, I was of course consciously on the lookout for signs of the city’s infamous sexual libertinism and/or “counterculture”. I didn’t have to exert myself to see it everywhere. Lots of same-sex couples. Dudes french kissing each other. Girls with hairy pits. All this- and I didn’t even venture into the Castro, or get close to the UC campus in Berkeley.
What struck me most about the sex thing, however, was the prevalence of sexual perversion in general- of the hetero, not homo, variety. San Francisco seems to be trying to carry on its storied tradition of burlesque in the modern day. The sex district is large and appears well-trammelled, judging from all the ads in the papers and the big marquees streetside.
One of the most interesting experiences a person can possibly have is to walk down a major street in a major city, hustling with queers, bankers, the homeless, Chinese immigrants (the ones I observed were all working quite hard in city uniform, policing the trash…) and think to oneself— “my how God loves all these people.” Without the initial and sustaining, inexplicable grace of God toward me, I would never had been privy to that thought.
The radical pub in Berkeley was a hoot. Apparently it has been in operation for about 3 decades, having been run by a family which was heavily into organized communism. The place is literally plastered with posters (some quite historical) against the Vietnam war, interventions in South America, etc. and promoting various pinko leaders throughout history. I had some of their excellent pizza with a beer, while I read some of the free commie rags in the racks. Very interesting. The only distilling comment I can make about this breed of folks (real, blood & guts revolutionary communists) is that none of them seem to be very happy about anything at all. It must be a pathetic existence. Of course, they would say the same about me—being opiated, as I am.
But, in a rare spirit of generosity, it occurred to me that many of the folks in this neighborhood were onto something. For all its problems, so-called Progressivism has a great strength, especially in areas like this where it is concentrated. Its adherents appear to do very well in issues of community involvement, political awareness, and economic cooperation. If only your typical conservative was as industrious as many of these Berkeley radicals.
Of course, the political highlight of my stay was the gubernatorial debate. Lots of amusing press for that one. I just happened to be in the middle of the Solas concert, with lots of other politically concerned (JN) Progressive Berkeleyites, at the very time this debate was taking place. I have to admit, Arnold exceeded my expectations, judging from the clips I caught later. It seemed he and Arianna were the chief combatants.
Say what you will about either of them, but the thought occurred to me—based on what I heard from both, I think that Arnold would have fewer hard lessons to learn about humanity while serving as a state governor than Arianna would. Californians can take this opinion, with fifty cents, and get themselves a cup of coffee.
No, wait, in SF, it’s at least two bucks for a small cup. But at least there’s plenty of it—if you miss one Starbuck’s, there will be another COMPLETELY DISCRETE Starbuck’s within 40 yards (literally—I saw this with mine own eyes).
Oh, yeah. And the Navy duty was great.
So, other than thinking about my wife and kid every waking moment, I had a good time in fog city. If you ever think of going, remember Mark Twain’s tired old saw- “the coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco.”
Judd out.