California Soul

by G. Sax

The title anthem has been taking up a sizable chunk of my brain since the Dockers “Work. Weekend. Dress. Golf.” ad campaign has been playing full steam around here. “California Soul” by Marlena Shaw is so freakin’ awesome I could just spit. It’s my current #1 (yes, I still keep track) and I play it all the time. Including right now.

I love my home and my hometown quite a bit these days. I love St. Paul. I love living in my childhood neighborhood again. It’s all so familiar and, oh, so unexpectedly different at the same time. I feel a sense of purpose raining all over me like Shake n’ Bake that I haven’t felt since my arrival in San Francisco in 2000, the featured city in the Dockers ad.

Sweeping camera zooms onto Market, the GG, and Marin, with a final pullaway from the ferry building toward the East Bay make me homesick for the place. I’ve been wanting to get my travel on of late, but SF is just a wee bit out of reach so I’m going to soak in the culture of another great city, Chicago, in the meantime. But I’m ready to go back to SF and see what kind of trouble I can stir up sometime very soon.

I once wrote a layperson’s tour guide to San Francisco for a colleague visiting from Michigan. I’ve been wanting to share it somewhere, and this seems like as good a place as any. I’d do up a Vallejo Tourist Guide, but I’m pissed off at that place. Vallejo straight declared bankruptcy. It was one of the most dysfunctional, mismanaged cities I’d ever been a part of (and that includes Milwaukee and Baltimore, people), and I shouldn’t be shocked that it came to this.

An “Insider” Tourist Guide of SF from a Guy in MN
I lived in the Bay Area for six years. Loved it. Hated the cost. Hated the traffic. But I’d live there again under the right circumstances. I learned a few sweet things about The City (don’t call it Frisco) that tourists might appreciate. Don’t buy a book. They’re not as fun to read as I am.

And here’s an up-front tip for any city you go to. Maps are plentiful and free at both staffed tourism offices and rental car places. I tend to stop at one or the other before I explore any city, and I’m always thankful that I did. Usually you can learn a good portion of a city by studying a map while your travel partner takes a shower. You heard it here first!

Okay, on to the San Fransciso tourist’s guide.

Alcatraz (duh!): Get the audio tour; it’s worth the extra money.

Fisherman’s Wharf: Sea lions, Pier 39, seafood, silver guys, dudes painting amazing pictures with spray paint and fire to a techno, boombox beat…you can’t do SF without a visit here. If you do a lot of wandering around The Wharf, beware the guy hiding behind the tree branch.

Union Square: Shopping! Capitalism! City life! I think the visit to the Cheesecake Factory atop Macy’s is worth it. You feel like you’re somewhere special.

Ghirardelli Square: Mmmm, chocolate; beautiful architecture; great photo opportunities of the GG, Alcatraz, and The Bay. If you’re interested in a stiff (as in whiskified), caffeinated drink, stop at Buena Vista for the world famous Irish coffee. You’ve never had anything like it, I promise you.

North Beach: Italian restaurants as far as the eyes can see; if you love garlic, try The Stinking Rose. Broadway and Columbus gets a little wild late at night, but you’ll enjoy Columbus Ave. and perhaps some sidestreets around Jackson Square right up through the dinner hour. I think this is my favorite SF neighborhood.

Chinatown: One idea is to do this on the same day as Union Square; work your way to the Grant Street gate (photo op!) of Chinatown from Union Square and walk up the street for great window shopping and people watching.

Union Street (as opposed to Union Square): More shopping! this time of the boutique variety rather than the big name brands at Union Square.

Haight/Asbury: Kinda cool but you’ll probably be underwhelmed. The actual corner features a Gap and a Ben & Jerry’s—if that gives you any idea of what’s happened to the area. This is a cool neighborhood for food. Kezar Pub on Stanyan features incredible buffalo wings and lots of sports TVs, but they don’t take credit or debit cards. Magnolia is a cool brewpub. Cha Cha Cha is a “happenin’” Mexican restaurant. Proximity to Golden Gate Park is a plus.

Golden Gate Park: There’s so much to do in here, it’s crazy. One definite highlight is the Japanese Tea Garden. You won’t see anything like this anywhere else in the country. Beautiful and unique flowers and trees. A simple, enjoyable, memorable experience.

Ocean Beach/Cliff House: The old Cliff House ain’t what it used to be, but this is still one of the best places to get your ocean sunset in (if it’s not foggy), get some good walking in, and maybe get some eats at one of the overpriced restaurants.

SOMA (South of Market): The Sony Metreon is just a fancy electronics-oriented mall, but SFMOMA and Yerba Buena Gardens are nearby. Go a little further south and you’ll be in the cradle of the SF Giants civilization; the restaurants become more sports-oriented and the park itself is all wow on gameday.

Streetcars: Long waits and crowded during the heavy season, but the “F” line in the Wharf, on the Embarcadero, and on Market Street are still, in my mind, one of the easiest and best modes of transportation for tourists. It’s certainly more friendly than the 15- or 30-Stockton routes (which both go through the heart of the city if you’re into the whole immersion thing.

The Embarcadero: Lots of people stroll along it on a warm day; if it’s cool when you visit, you may find it better to ride the “F” and marvel at its uniqueness from a window seat. The ferry building is a nice stop for coffee and light food shopping if you happen to be near it. The renovation has created a lively spot where once there was nothing for a former
boat commuter like me.

Crooked Street (Lombard): Take it or leave it; maybe worth a photo at the foot of the hill if you happen to be in the neighborhood; it is interesting, I’ll say that much.

Cable Cars: Take ‘em or leave ‘em. Riding them isn’t all that exciting and the lines can be long (maybe take a picture instead).

The Castro: Take it or leave it. Unique in its open gayness, but otherwise I find the restaurants underwhelming.

The Mission District: Take it or leave it. I know tons of people who swear by its nightlife and funky little burrito joints and sushi stops. If you want to go where the twentysomethings are loudest, ask around and you’ll find a party in this realm. Cabbing back to the hotel from here should be mandatory.

Weather Hint: Pack a light but warm jacket or at the very least a sturdy sweater or sweatshirt. Unless you want to be one of the multitude of tourists who sport an “SF” jacket that screams “I came unprepared.” You’ll see plenty of them. SF can be chilly at night (and often during the day); it won’t feel like Detroit, but it ain’t LA.

Fun Hint: March to your own drum. San Francisco is often best enjoyed at random. Start with an idea and let your spirit move you. It’s as great a city as you allow it to be.

If you decide to boat to somewhere other than Alcatraz, I would recommend the quaint and exclusive town of Tiburon. It’s just close enough to SF, and it’s just small enough to enjoy a walk through its historic setting, a good meal, a wine tasting, and an ice cream all within a couple-few hours. Many tourists like to cross the GG and go into Sausalito, but for my money, Tiburon is much better and not much farther.

Basically, you’ll never do all of SF in the time you’re there, but with these tips, you can sure take a big bite.

Places and Spaces

“The illest regiment is what I represent.” – Q-Tip

by G. Sax

I do shit, yo. Sometimes I wonder if I’m forcing myself to fill gaps, like I can’t be still or something. But I read books. I can sit still for hours on end. I don’t get wigged out on road trips. I can concentrate on something long enough.

No, I’m not gapping. I’m just interested in living. Out loud. Which can be a struggle when I’m the last one in a 50-mile radius awake every night. People like it quiet when it’s dark outside.

So I wear headphones.

I’m still working on that whole getting up on time b.s. How do the rest of you do it? Maybe the same way you finance new VWs, maintain cabins in the northwoods, build homes from scratch, buy 35-foot fishing boats, take cruises in the Caribbean, and so on.

I’m not complaining. For real. I have done and still do plenty of good shit in my life. CarlyGirl is always writing and imaging about the shit that I do. You should check it out, because it’s far more visual than what I provide here.

I keep this site and column up and running as a place to dialogue openly about whatever I want to write. It also serves as a place for good friends to crack jokes and flex their own creative suite 3 (that play on words was brought to you by Adobe). It’s also become a repository for the best capsule movie reviews I’ve ever seen on the Web. I wasn’t really expecting that.

But that’s what I still love and live about Whale Time. A high school folly turned into a worthwhile life philosophy. You think I wasn’t watching those whales floating around in NorCal? Mother and child were straight floating through my old stomping grounds in Vallejo. West Sac, Rio Vista, Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. I watched the drama unfold.

Whales be free. Whale be me.

Ha! That was gay.

“Buckin’ hard like the Coast Guard, who’s soft?” – Q-Tip

What exactly is it that I do if I’m not buying fancy houses, cars, boats, TVs, decks, dishes, placemats, napkins?

What have I been up to in a more general sense? Why don’t I write more funny little sentences about fantastic pizza places that nobody would hear about if I didn’t write about them? Where’s the self-deprecating humor and sliced-open heart that feels the BIG feel with every paragraph wrapped?

Shrug. Haven’t felt like it, I guess. No agenda. I kinda feel like writing for laughter more now though. The speechy stuff can get old quick. I’m conscious of that. I do expect to be doing more frequent and more amusingly mundane writings in the near term, but I’ll say no more on that because the more I talk, the more it doesn’t seem to happen.

A year in review: Going to Minnesota Twins games, eating at new restaurants, walking around new lakes, trekking up to Duluth, taking in the summer festivals, going to St. Paul Saints games, playing softball again, doing it up Milwaukee style, the many weekends with the kids, the swimming pool, the backyardigans at my sister’s place, the changing of the seasons, the hunt for the Winter Carnival medallion (close again), Minnesota Wild hockey games, joining the St. Paul Bouncing Team, working magic in the real estate industry without selling real estate, expanding my skill set, and so on. Living. And living within my means, which can still be a struggle, despite the lack of Cali-style price-fixing.

I’ll try some photo stuff for once. These are some of the things I do and the joints I got. Click ‘em to get bigger images.

Did some exploring in western Wisconsin. Caves are cool, even little ones. And Menomonie/Stout ain’t as backwoods as I thought it would be. I’m already looking to set The Boy up with an education there in five years.

Spring Valley, on the other hand, had few tourist options other than the cave. They try, I’ll give them that, but the smoking bar didn’t seem to have that “family restaurant” feel I was looking for and the lone town deli also offered tanning. Thus, the quickover to Menomonie for a bite.

That pizza place that I haven’t been talking about of late… It’s called Ted’s. Get something with sausage. Homemade and delicious. Before I chose a place to unwind for dinner, I asked a local for advice. The first guy I drove up to was super helpful. I wasn’t at all phased by his machete. You think I’m kidding.

A great Saturday. Day Tripper. It took me so long to find out, but I found out.

When I’m not exploring with Carly and the kids, I’m usually with Tom.

Sure, the St. Paul Bouncing Team is just a bunch of goofy dudes that pull on a blanket that cute chicks bounce on, but it’s an eloquent tradition dating back more than 100 years in Minnesota’s capital city and far longer in Alaska. It’s synonymous with the St. Paul Winter Carnival, but the promotional, parading fun lasts throughout the year. The warm-weather events can be every bit as memorable. Like the Roller Girls championship in late April.

After that Bouncing Team event with the Minnesota Roller Girls, we rocked into the night at Decoys, a bar closer to home on Mainstreet, Hopkins. A local band with national acclaim called The Plastic Constellations played a “bar band” gig in their childhood neighborhood for fun. A far cry from First Avenue but somehow more admirable. It was too loud for the career drunks to handle, but it was good fun for me and the mixed urban/suburban/desolation crowd on hand. A fight broke out somewhere near the pool tables at the end of the night. Probably because ears were ringing and somebody overheard something that was never said.

I work with the dude on the left. Don’t let the first photo fool you. He’s always acting all squiggle blur around the office and shit.

Wyoming is Cool

by G. Sax

I’ve been across the entire state of Wyoming twice. It’s real brushy—like long, yellowy grass and tumbleweed and shit. Plenty of mountains, too, but none ever annoyingly inclined for driving like in Utah and Colorado.

Sinclair the dinosaur who gives us of his remains for oil and gasoline lives there.

A freeway town called Rawlins is apparently full of meth addicts if you’re to believe the stickers on cash registers at the Pamida, the bloodshot eyes of the weirdo dudes eating nacho cheese spooge out of a convenience store dispenser, or the scraggly child-mom trailing a beautiful snow-blonde toddler out for smokes at 1:30 a.m.

I bought me a sixer of Corona in Rawlins from a woman bartender who’d spent many years living near me in the Bay Area (her Fairfield to my Vallejo) and in the Twin Cities Metro (her western Wisconsin to my southwestern suburbs). Good synchronous moment in time with a Whitesnake backbeat. She gave me a baggie of free limes.

London Calling

by G. Sax

I had a weekend afternoon and a car to myself, so I went. I answered a call from a boyhood writing hero. Yes, it was a Call of the Wild, but I grew up on White Fang. It was time to pay my respects in Sonoma County.

Truth be told, I didn’t know he was still hanging around. But I suspected from all the things named for him in Oakland. The story of his resting place is pretty cool.

There wasn’t much about the Greenlaw children at the site. But it was easy to get the idea.

They weren’t laid very far away from London’s boulder. The graves were kinda scary, so I did my “Blair Witch” face. Then I ran to the remains of the nearby London home. It is the “Big House” referred to on the plaque. Inside and out, it was great stuff. I want to live there.

After my visit, I checked out nearby locales. Things were named London everywhichway.

And I happened upon one of my favorite wineries. I had a free few sips and met a nice couple. I strongly recommend Eric Ross. I strongly recommend reading Jack London. I strongly recommend adventure. Especially with a camera.