• August 2018.  What does anyone, who has not been, know about San Francisco besides hobos, homos, Rice-A-Roni, and the Golden Gate Bridge?  At my age and with the travel I have accomplished, it seems crazy that I have not been there.  While working in California, years back, I would occasionally fly in and out of San Francisco but that is only geography.  Tennessee Williams said, “America has only three cities: New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans.  Everywhere else is Cleveland.”  By Williams’ ringing endorsement alone, San Francisco warrants a visit.   So this summer I set my sights on the Golden Gate City.

My best gal-pal Stacey and I have been inseparable for over twenty years but, other than spending weekends at one of her parents’ houses, we have never been anywhere together.  Lamenting the fact over lunch recently she simply stated, “Let’s go to San Francisco.”  Stacey owns a hair salon in Houston’s Montrose but lived in San Francisco in the 1990s.  So I not only looked forward to travelling with her but also looked forward to her life experience as a tour guide.

Before I knew it, she organized a grand tour which included her husband Mark and her niece Helen.  One of my signature TroysArt Travelogues, this journal of San Francisco chronicles my thoughts, impressions, activities, and shenanigans in the City by the Bay.

***

Southwest Airlines is great for short jumps and can be inexpensive and efficient transportation cross-country too.  I do worry a little about crashing but remind myself that people flew coast-to-coast in the 1950s with technology akin to a modern Maytag washing machine.  And the company jet has had only one accident related fatality since 1967, which is astounding considering that Southwest operates 1.3 million flights per year.

Southwest offered a choice of Fritos, pretzels, or Belvita, toasted coconut wafers.

Our jet to California is fresh and new.  But as of August 1st, Southwest no longer serves their signature snack, finally conceding to the anti-peanut whiners.  Instead we are offered a choice of Fritos, pretzels, or Belvita, toasted coconut wafers which would be delicious with coffee or tea, but not necessarily the best combination with a cocktail.  And Fritos stink if you are not the one eating them.  Even the flight attendant has disparaging remarks when a nearby passenger mentions the ban on nuts.

But the flight is smooth and I alternate my summer reading with gazing out the windows at purple mountains majesty.  The peaks just across the Nevada/California border are breathtaking.

***

The peaks just across the Nevada/California border are breathtaking.

In Tom Sawyer Abroad, Mark Twain wrote, “I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.”

Stacey is a bouncy 5’2 beautiful blonde fireball with a quick wit and even quicker deductive reasoning skills.

Mark was a popular character in Houston’s grunge scene, known as the surly bartender at the iconic club Emo’s.  Now in nuclear medicine, he enjoys the Astros and often quotes Seinfeld–as do I.  He once sent me a photo from the intersection of 1^st Street and 1^st Avenue in Manhattan with the accompanying text:  I must be at the nexus of the universe!

I have known Helen since she was a child and she has grown into a lovely woman.  She is elegant, clever, well-rounded, and well-traveled.  A recent graduate of UT, she will begin her master’s program at Rice this fall.

I have no doubt that we will get along—I like to think that I am an amiable traveler.

***

We check into the most luxurious old school hotel in San Francisco, the Sir Francis Drake.

I am in hotel heaven!  We check into the most luxurious old school hotel in San Francisco, the Sir Francis Drake.  The opulent lobby drips with crystal above French and Italian marble walls and floors with renaissance flourishes evoking the Elizabethan period.  A blood red glass beefeater stands dominion above the lobby bar.

This historic Union Square hotel is named for Francis Drake, knighted by Queen Elizabeth I in 1581, who, actually, failed to discover San Francisco Bay in 1579, instead sailing the Golden Hind into Drake’s Bay.  The hotel opened in 1928 with a room rate of $3.50 and was popular for its Servidor—a feature for delivering laundry without interrupting guests which better served to discreetly deliver alcohol during prohibition.

Known for a celebrity clientele, in 1965 Paul Lynde checked in with up-and-coming 24-year-old Hollywood heartthrob Bing Davidson.  Their drunken canoodle culminated in Davidson falling 8-stories to his death.  Oh, Uncle Arthur!

***

San Francisco’s Chinatown is the oldest Chinatown in North America and the largest Chinese enclave outside of Asia.  Chinatown was the port of entry for early Chinese immigrants, beginning in the 1850s and, during the Gold Rush, Chinese prostitutes flourished.  And it is not far from the hotel.

The Chinese restaurants that grew in San Francisco are considered the birthplace of Westernized Chinese cuisine, institutions that created Chop Suey and popularized Dim Sum.

Just past the looming pagoda-style Dragon Gate, Stacey and Helen find a jade shop.  They buy jewelry not only for themselves but souvenirs for friends as Mark and I peruse the more touristy shops on the block.

But we are starving.  The Chinese restaurants that grew in San Francisco are considered the birthplace of Westernized Chinese cuisine, institutions that created Chop Suey and popularized Dim Sum.  Stacey’s new friend at the jade shop makes a recommendation and I think that Stacey is going to have an aneurism during the long wait for a table at City View Restaurant.  But once we are seated we start a feeding frenzy—it is like shark week but with dumplings.  It was Dim Yummy.

***

San Francisco’s Chinatown is the oldest Chinatown in North America and the largest Chinese enclave outside of Asia.

San Francisco is a series of neighborhoods, like Chinatown, each with its own distinct culture and history.  These neighborhoods even have their own distinct weather; the microclimates of San Francisco create a system by which each neighborhood can have different conditions at any given time.

In the week leading up to our trip I mentioned to Stacey that the Sir Francis Drake Hotel has no pool.  She looked at me, bemused, and said, “That would be like a hotel in Manhattan having a pool.  Mark Twain said, ‘The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.’”  Though highly intelligent, her literary repertoire consists primarily of People Magazine captions, so I was impressed to hear her quote Twain.

I knew Stacey was right.  I remember the first summer I visited Pebble Beach—I packed great looking shorts ensembles and swimwear but nearly froze to death the first day.  I rushed to Cannery Row in Monterey to buy warm pants and jackets.  For San Fran, the average high temperature in August is 68° and low is 55°.

And as we walk from neighborhood to neighborhood we take off and put on shirts, sweatshirts, and jackets.  It is not easy to have a polished outfit when layering for utility.  I can see how the grunge look evolved in the Pacific Northwest.

***

San Francisco was founded in 1776 when Spanish colonists established the Presidio of San Francisco at the Golden Gate and Mission San Francisco de Asis, named in honor of St. Francis of Assisi.  But real growth began with the Gold Rush in 1848, when the precious metal was found at Sutter’s Mill, a discovery bringing 300,000 people to the West Coast.

But real growth began with the gold rush in 1848. San Francisco, 1849, Historic American Buildings Survey Wells Fargo Bank Historical Museum, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Eleven recent earthquakes off the coast in the Juan de Fuca tectonic plate have caused a 20-mile stress in the San Andreas Fault known as the Durmid ladder structure.  A USGS report puts the odds of the Big One occurring within the next 30 years at 75%.  But we have heard our whole lives about the imminent Big One.  And I will be happy if it does not occur during my visit.

***

The tower was built in 1933 at the bequest of a Lillie Hitchock Coit, an eccentric broad who had a thing for firefighters.

High atop Telegraph Hill in the Italian neighborhood of North Beach is Coit Tower.  The tower was built in 1933 at the bequest of a Lillie Hitchock Coit, an eccentric broad who had a thing for firefighters.  But getting up the hill is a challenge, especially since we are walking.  The grade of the roadways range from 24 to 41°, a pitch on par with the steepest street in the world, New Zealand’s Baldwin Street.¹   But heading up the slope, it seems like more than a 60% angle.  Stacey and I stop at each plateau to catch our breath and rest our legs—both of us exercise on a daily basis.

“It’s a different fitness,” she astutely observes.  “I’d like to see San Franciscans jog Memorial Park.”  (It was 95° with 72% humidity the day we left.)

The tower is stunning and from the base we have astounding views of the city, the bay, the Bay Bridge, and even Alcatraz.  But the line is more than an hour so we decide to forgo the elevator ride to the top.

I am amazed at the number of European tourists—it seems every other tourist is speaking French.

But what goes up must go down, so we descend the steep staircases that hang from the cliffs like an erector set.  On flat ground our legs quiver like Jell-0.

***

The TransAmerica Pyramid Tower is like a fabulous obelisk and is a favorite for me—like a priceless bibelot in the center of an antique vitrine.

The view of San Francisco is stunning from every angle—and often too beautiful to adequately capture by camera.  The TransAmerica Pyramid Tower is like a fabulous obelisk and is a favorite for me—like a priceless bibelot in the center of an antique vitrine.  Designed by William Pereira, it is the architect’s masterpiece.  At 853 feet high, it was the 8^th tallest building in the world at the time of completion in 1972.  It is visible from everywhere we go.

***

With all that I have heard about San Francisco being a gay city, I expected to find homosexuals swinging from every chandelier.  But, of course, that is not the case.

Homosexuality has been a trademark phenomenon of San Francisco as far back as the 1849 Gold Rush when the City of Bachelors was populated by a disproportionate number of males.  Imagine the freethinking mindset of guys leaving conventional society behind to pioneer a faraway land, searching for a new life and fortune.  The roots of same sex relationships predate the Civil War and the Wild West.  In an 1850 census, only 4.5% of California’s population were non-Indian females.²  An 1891 etching by Andre Castaigne portrays a men-only dance entitled Miners’ Ball.

An 1891 etching by Andre Castaigne portrays a men-only dance entitled Miners’ Ball. Miners’ Ball, by Andre Castaigne, 1891, etching, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

It is easy to make the leap to 1908 when The Dash became the first known gay bar in San Francisco.  A natural progression from the same-sex prostitution of the Barbary Coast’s red-light district, cross-dressing waitresses would perform libidinous acts for $1.

During WWII, thousands of soldiers medically discharged for homosexuality were released in San Francisco where most chose to remain rather than to return home, stigmatized.

The White Night Riot began in the Castro and ended at City Hall—considered the most intense git (a gay fit) since Stonewall.

In 1972, Harvey Milk moved from New York to the Castro District and in 1977 became the first openly gay man elected to public office.  Milk and Mayor George Moscone were murdered and in 1979, when their killer was given a light sentence, the White Night Riot began in the Castro and ended at City Hall—considered the most intense git (a gay fit) since Stonewall.

The Castro evolved as the epicenter of the world’s foremost Gay Mecca.

The “gay capital of the world”, the Castro has sweeping views and some of the best weather of the city.  With 19^th Century houses, trendy boutiques, and airy cafes, it is also the cleanest part of town.

At Harvey’s, a Harvey Milk themed bar, we rest and have beers.  Our legs are sore.  And I enjoy watching locals walk past the plate glass windows, a complete cross-section of culture, from gym rat to leather queen, from transvestite to businessman, from preppy to punk, men with babies to DINKs, twinks to bears.  It is no different than any other big city but just a bit more natural, more light of day.

A group of sissy street toughs consisting of a femme and two fatties harass a blistered meth head holding himself up by a trashcan.

Stacey asks our waiter Adam for tips for brunch the next morning, something with bottomless mimosas.  He makes a suggestion and, enamored, she invites him to join us.  Adam declines but she tips him well.

***

I have never been on a subway before but the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) is clean and efficient.  And sure there are bums camped intermittently, but the routes we take are nothing like the videos we see on the news and on social media of junkies shooting up and passed out on the platforms in puddles of their own waste.

We do, however, run into the same sissy toughs from the Castro who spend a few minutes castigating Helen for looking at them.

“Yo.  Some people mama don’t teach them not to stare!”  Snap.  “Mm-hm.”

They are such little parodies of themselves and I am unable to determine if they are Jets or Sharks.

***

Like any classic hotel, the rooms are small but they are clean and well appointed.  And how very California to provide a yoga mat for the room but no coffee pot.  But coffee is available in Scala’s Bistro, the lobby café.

Like any classic hotel, the rooms are small but they are clean and well appointed.

I am further enamored with the grooming products.  Apparently proprietary to Kimpton Hotels, the Atelier Bloem goods were purportedly inspired by a bike ride through a Dutch flower market.  I love the Mandarin & Citrus Body Wash with eucalyptus, lemon, white flower, sandalwood, and orchid, as well as the Oolong Tea Shampoo with ylang ylang, amber chamomile, orange blossom, and geranium.

I also remind myself that the gorgeous bottles of wine on the desk and the appealingly packaged nuts are budget-busting mini-bar gotchas.

Also, like most classic hotels, the Sir Francis Drake is said to be haunted.  In a city full of ghost stories, it is listed as one of the most haunted places.³  Not only was there the Paul Lynde catastrophe, but in 1929 ruined financier Louis Lurie took a swan dive from his penthouse apartment on the 21^st floor which is now the Starlight Room.  Guests report windows opening, disembodied voices, strange shadows, and elevators that will not go to 21.  Most paranormal activity is reported either from room 823 or on the 12^th floor.

Helen is on the 12^th floor but has not noticed anything unusual.  Oh, and newsflash Ghostbusters, the elevators will not go to 21 if the Starlight Room is closed.

***

The Sycamore, which Adam recommended, is a bar in the Mission neighborhood that serves a popular brunch.  The Sycamore is small and old, and the kind of place that the tourists would not find.

There is a line out the door but the food is worth the wait.  I have the Country Benedict with poached eggs on biscuits with corned beef and sautéed cabbage.  And the bottomless mimosas are very strong.

Mark tries an order of the pork belly donuts with Makers Mark glaze.

***

Poor little Helen.  The Seinfeld references are not of her generation.

“Hennigan’s, the no-tell, no-smell Scotch.”

“He took it out.”

We sit down for a cocktail, yada yada yada, and Stacey has to explain the punchline.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

***

The Mission is one of the sunnier neighborhoods of San Francisco.  Home to a large Latino population, the oldest building in the city is located there, Mission San Francisco de Asis.  Unfortunately, the business district of the Mission also reeks of human urine; I hold my handkerchief to my nose as we amble past stores and cafes.

In lovely Dolores Park, locals sit in the sun, eat ice cream, play Frisbee, picnic, and there is even a spirited roller hockey game.  The tower of Mission High School looms above the park’s edge.

It is Stacey’s favorite part of town.  “Troy,” she says, “if I win the lottery, would you move here with us?  We could buy one of the house on the edge of the park.”

I hope she wins.  San Francisco tops the list of household incomes by major American cities—one is not considered wealthy in SF without a minimum net worth of $6 million.  Economic growth in the Bay Area creates hundreds of thousands of jobs but government restrictions against new homes cause extreme shortages.  A minimum wage employee would need 4.7 fulltime jobs to afford a standard two bedroom apartment.⁴

“Sure,” I answer.  “I’ll move here with you.  I could be the Monroe Ficus in you and Mark’s own Too Close for Comfort!”

***

City Lights Bookstore, an independent bookstore that specializes in progressive literature, is considered by some as important a landmark as the Golden Gate Bridge or Fisherman’s Wharf.

City Lights Bookstore, an independent bookstore that specializes in progressive literature, is considered by some as important a landmark as the Golden Gate Bridge or Fisherman’s Wharf.  With the publication of Howl in 1955 and with writers such a Jack Kerouc and William S. Burroughs influencing a generation of non-conformists, the store became an epicenter of reformist thought.

And I have never seen such a packed bookstore as I glance over the anarchist titles and colorful pamphlets.  Stacey abruptly proclaims, as she darkens the door into the second section, that she has seen enough.

I especially love Vesuvio’s 102-year-old facade juxtaposed to the modern cityscape down the hill.

Across Kerouc Alley, the barmaid at Vesuvio carefully muddles fruit for our first round of Old Fashioneds.  One of Vesuvio’s slogans is “IQs checked at the door.”  Boasting a clientele of luminaries such as Jack Kerouc, Bob Dylan, and Francis Ford Coppola to name a few, the shadowy bar is a landmark.  I especially love the 102-year-old facade juxtaposed to the modern cityscape down the hill.  Aging memorabilia fills every inch of the walls and sexy hippies congregate around time worn tables.  Mark finds us a prime spot in the curved front window upstairs.  A guy plays guitar for tips at the corner of City Lights as we watch hordes of visitors file in and out of the bookstore.  The Old Fashioned is one of the most delicious I have had.

Mark and Helen wanted to order my recently released Drank Myself Straight and pick it up while here; but the request was small potatoes for City Lights and they declined to secure the novel for them.  Once a beacon for counterculture, anti-authoritarianism, and independent publications, they are now the elite.

***

San Francisco is known to be extremely liberal in terms of sex, drugs, alternative lifestyles, and politics, and has been called America’s Utopian Petri Dish.  With less than 10% of the population voting Republican in 2016, Democrats preside over a political monoculture.  And the Paris of the West has yielded some of America’s most elite policymakers like Nancy Pelosi (“Waiting hours longer in the emergency room will enable you to make new friends.”) worth $196 million⁵ and Dianne Feinstein (“When a gunman realizes that no one else is armed, he will lay down his weapon and turn himself in.”) worth $96 million⁶.

But San Francisco has evolved into a model of what progressives claim to despise, to wit a private club for the wealthy with a vast disparity between rich and poor.

For the weeks leading up to the trip concern grew over the reports of the homeless camps dotting San Francisco, as well as reports of streets littered with syringes, trash, and feces on, what some claim to be, the magnitude of Indian, Brazilian, or African slums.  Human Wasteland is an interactive online map that charts San Francisco’s human excrement by showing precise locations marked with turd emojis.  The new mayor London Breed has vowed to rid San Francisco of homeless encampments within a year.

The seeming reversal of priorities has made for clever political cartoons and memes. (Fair use.)

Oh, and as a side note, some homeless advocates in the Bay Area call these people houseless rather than homeless since they do have a home in the streets of San Francisco.

Also called Needle City, one of every 38.49 San Francisco residents is an intravenous drug user.⁷  The Center for Disease Control asserts that free needle programs, begun in the 1993, reduce transmission of HIV and hepatitis.  But only 246,000 of the 400,000 needles distributed monthly are exchanged⁸, leaving 2 million syringes a year unaccounted.  City taxpayers fund the needle giveaways and residents complain about navigating biohazardous litter in the name of public health.  San Francisco spends $30 million a year (half its total street cleaning budget) on removal of needles and poo.⁹  That is a mountain of money.

But I admit that we never see any needles—not even in the Tenderloin.

And while it is true that houseless people are everywhere, Stacey thinks the problem is far worse in Houston.  But the size of San Francisco is only 48.5 square miles while Houston is 627 square miles.  At home, we drive from neighborhood to neighborhood and are exposed to the tent cities near freeways.  There are 5,351 homeless people in Houston with 2,291 of those unsheltered¹⁰;  San Francisco has a houseless population of 7,499 with 4,350 of those on the streets¹¹.  I think the statistics for both cities is shameful, that it is not compassionate to allow people to live in the streets.

Frustrated business owners point to a decline in tourism due to the houseless problem—a $9 billion a year economic impact.¹²  But as I said, people all around me are speaking foreign languages, there are tourists everywhere.  If Houston only had such vibrant tourism.

But despite the almost insurmountable obstacles the bright young mayor has to overcome, this year San Francisco became the first major city to ban fur and, last month, the second to ban plastic drinking straws.  It will be unlawful in 2019 to have a plastic stir stick in your $6 coffee while the city hands out 5 million plastic syringes a year to junkies.  The seeming reversal of priorities has made for clever political cartoons and memes.

***

One of the most photographed scenes of the city, the famous painted ladies—a row of Victorian houses at Alamo Square with a back drop of downtown.

Height-Ashbury is the neighborhood known for the origins of hippie counterculture.  And it is also known for one of the most photographed scenes of the city, the famous painted ladies—a row of Victorian houses at Alamo Square with a back drop of downtown.  But every view in San Francisco is beautiful, really.  I snap a few photos of the famous row houses and we get the obligatory picture at the corner of Haight and Ashbury.

In a quaint little bar called Nickie’s in Lower Haight we order French 75s.  Stacey requests the good champagne, of course; her finger just automatically glides to the bottom of the wine list.  The bartender is Julian, a handsome French guy with light facial scruff and a sexy accent.

“From what we’ve heard on the news,” Stacey tells Julian as Mark talks baseball with an assembly of Giants fans at the end of the bar, “we thought there would be homeless people everywhere.”

He replies, “From what I’ve heard, all you Texans should be walking around with guns.”

Mark and Stacey are gregarious and interact with people everywhere we go.

***

I too am capable of meeting bar buddies.  At the hotel bar I meet Brandon & Johanna, relatives of the Astros’ owner as well as a glam young couple from England, Wayne & Mandy.   The Brits teach me the saying queer as a box of frogs, which means really really gay.

And I almost spit wine when I learn that a homeless orgy is called a soup kitchen.

I enjoy an evening of good red wine and new friends, and yada yada yada, I meet a handsome, clean-cut 25-year old.  Ivan is well dressed, educated, articulate, and claims to be Latino though his complexion is light as cream.

We Uber to the Mission for midnight food at his favorite restaurant, a sexy and fashionable spot called Beretta, where we get to know each other over gourmet pizza and wine.  And after another stop or two, we arrive to the Sir Francis Drake so Ivan can tour an old school hotel.  It has been a long time since I made out in an elevator.

***

I find that we are a great group, the four of us, touring from neighborhood to neighborhood, from restaurant to restaurant.  But mornings become time to ourselves.

Houston friends jokingly refer to Mark and Stacey as active seniors.

Houston friends jokingly refer to Mark and Stacey as active seniors.  The two of them get up at the crack of dawn and get their bodies moving.  In San Francisco, they discover a diner in Union Square and it becomes their daily routine for traditional fair with extra butter–the dietary splurge only on vacation, of course.

Helen is not a fan of eggs but she finds a café that makes an acceptable omelet, and like her aunt, sticks to the same place to begin each day.

Alas, I am not a morning person.  While getting my coffee in Scala’s Bistro I buy fruit and yogurt for the room—Scala’s gorgeous pastries are dry and inedible.  I write in the mornings and sip coffee with the news in the background—wildfires are out of control all over California, even causing a haze over San Francisco depending on the wind.

One early morning Mark and Stacey happen to catch me at the elevator (going down for my coffee) and, so caught off guard, it is as if Stacey sees a ghost—the only Sir Francis Drake spectral sighting of the vacation.

***

All around the city there are little yellow two-seat vehicles called GoCars.

All around the city there are little yellow two-seat vehicles called GoCars.  They are very touristy, but when in Rome…  One morning, bright and early, we find ourselves waiting for the GoCar store to open.  The mini-hotrods are connected to GPS so that directions and points-of-interest are broadcast through the dashboard.  The robotic female voice even points out Scottie’s house from Vertigo.

From Fisherman’s Wharf we buzz up to the Golden Gate Bridge which is covered in fog when we arrive.

On Fisherman’s Wharf, we find the sea lions on Pier 39.

On Russian Hill we drive down the world’s most crooked street.  Lombard Street is a famous sight known for the one block stretch of eight hairpin turns.  It is really just a zigzagging traffic jam, stop and go, picture picture, selfie selfie, honk honk, but I can say that I did it.  I am now one of the Lombard’s 2 million visitors per year.  How is it not tiresome for the residents of the street?

***

On Fisherman’s Wharf, we find the sea lions on Pier 39.  Most are laying in the sun, napping.  Some of the young ones wrestle and jump in and out of the harbor.  They are like aquatic dogs, I can see the relation.  It is the first time I feel homesick because I miss my dog Delta Dawn.  I snap some pictures but raise a handkerchief to my nose because they sure stink!

***

The Tap Room is an airy sports bar across the street from the hotel.  Stacey’s finger drifts to the bottom of the wine list and we enjoy a delicious bottle as the Astros play the San Francisco Giants, projected onto the high walls.

Dallas Keuchel gives up one run and three hits in six innings.

In a low scoring game, Stacey’s favorite player Marwin Gonzalez hits a three-run homer with two outs in the ninth to win the game.  Helen’s favorite Alex Bregman has dyed his hair to highlighter yellow.  So if anyone reading this knows Mr. Bregman, Helen is single and Stacey can fix the hair.

The victory is extra exciting as Mark bought tickets for us to watch the Astros play the Giants the next day.

***

Mark says that Stacey and I copied his outfit.

Home of the San Francisco Giants, AT&T Park is a state-of-the-art venue two miles from the hotel.  The stadium is on the bay and seems rather intimate.  Over the right field wall, guys in kayaks paddle near the dock waiting for homerun balls to hit the water.

The Giants are one of the longest-established and most successful teams in baseball having won more games than any other team¹³, including World Series Championships in 2010, 2012, and 2014.  But in 2014, Sports Illustrated’s Ben Reiter predicted that the Astros’ would win the 2017 World Series and predicts the Astros will repeat that championship in 2018.

Houstonians love the Astros, the team who, as predicted, won the 2017 World Series.  Hurricane Harvey and the Astros dominated Houston’s news in 2017.  Our esteemed young players climbed from anonymity to superstardom in one season and are notable for community involvement.  They delivered such glee and pride to a city decimated by floodwater.

Houstonians love the Astros, the team who, as predicted, won the 2017 World Series.

With a sellout crowd of 41,613 people on a bone-chilling day, the Honorable London Breed throws out the first pitch—I am excited to see the mayor.  My two favorite players, Jose Altuve and George Springer, are on the injured reserve list.  But we still have young celebrities Alex Bregman and Josh Reddick on the field.

The Astros are not putting up big numbers but Tyler White dings a two-run homer over the center field wall in the 8^th, accomplishing a late rally for the win.  Dallas Keuchel gives up one run and three hits in six innings; it is a formidable showing but I still do not care for that beard.

Mark says that Stacey and I copied his outfit, and it is true that Stacey keeps turning around and mistaking me for him.  But once the game starts he does not care–a bomb could go off without his notice.

***

The San Francisco Peace Pagoda is a spectacular five-tiered stupa as Japantown’s centerpiece.

We have seen so many neighborhoods that I cannot remember them all.  We have gone from Union Square to North Beach, from the Castro and the Mission to Russian Hill and  Fisherman’s Wharf, to Chinatown, Civic Center/Hayes Valley to Haight Ashbury, Pacific Heights to even the seedy Tenderloin.  The dome at City Center is dazzling.  On our last day we try to get in a few more sights, finding our way to Fillmore and Japantown.  The San Francisco Peace Pagoda is a spectacular five-tiered stupa as Japantown’s centerpiece.

***

On our last night together we visit the Starlight Room, the penthouse level club in our hotel.  A jazz band is playing on the stage next to the bar.

Set into the travertine dancefloor, little lights twinkle between rays of a starburst.  We find the lounge swanky if not a bit run down by light of day.  But the establishment is best known for 360° views of the city.

Set into the travertine dancefloor of the Starlight Room, little lights twinkle between rays of a starburst.

We each choose a different libation and reflect on our favorite parts of the trip as a blanket of fog envelops the view.  San Francisco is also called Fog City.

I recall Mark Twain’s quote from Tom Sawyer Abroad, “I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.”  And I consider how well we have done.

***

Two weeks ago, Southwest CEO Gary Kelly admitted that the airline is seeking ways to boost revenue such as baggage fees, ticket-change fees, and assigned seating.  First they ax peanuts, now they are examining the very things that set them apart from other airlines, things that have made them so beloved.

San Francisco is also called Fog City.

Our return flight is on an older jet with a cramped cabin that reeks of cheap coffee and blue toilet water (Skykem).  The armrests have ashtrays and there is only one lavatory in the back.  The back of the jet is steamy, I am sweating, and the stench of masticated Fritos is revolting.

Catching up on summer reading, Other Voices Other Rooms by Truman Capote, I stop to reread a chapter; Capote can beautifully express ringlets of sunlight sifting through a tree, dappling the dark grass like fallen gold fruit, but let a midget molest a boy on a Ferris wheel and I have to read it twice to understand what is happening.  So I set the book down, sip my beer, and look out over New Mexico’s endless landscape of green circles, thousands of central pivot agricultural fields, and I ponder our magnificent trip.

***

San Francisco is obviously more than hobos, homos, Rice-A-Roni, and the Golden Gate Bridge.

My Pud Thai at Phuket Thai Restaurant, across from where Stacey once lived, is the best I ever tasted.

The food in San Francisco is extraordinary.  My Pud Thai at Phuket Thai Restaurant, across from where Stacey once lived, is the best I ever tasted and the soft spring rolls are ecstasy—and I love the name too, it is like Fuck it!  I did, however, make some questionable food selections, like ordering the fried chicken special at Sears Fine Food or the Jagerschnitzel at Last Drop Tavern, leading to rather serious food envy issues toward the choices of my companions.

But Rice-A-Roni, the so called San Francisco treat, is not on a single menu.

San Francisco is kinetic, exotic, colorful, and exciting.  San Francisco is vibrant and solid. San  Francisco is a box of jewels.  The tourists are wide-eyed and the locals are friendly.

No doubt the homeless issue with all the poop and the needles concerns the residents, but the national media exaggeration is worse than the problem.

I do not speak in hyperbole when I say that it is the most beautiful major American city.  Stacey says that even more than her years living in Italy she enjoyed her years San Francisco.

So in conclusion of this latest TroysArt Travelogue, I hope this serves as a fun souvenir for Stacey, Mark, and Helen.  And anthems to Tennessee Williams!  He was right—New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans are the three most unique and incredible cities in this great nation, each with a unique vibe that cannot be contrived or replicated.  And now I have been everywhere but Cleveland.

But did I leave my heart in San Francisco, quoting the old cliche?  As a matter of fact, I did indeed.

Link to Sir Francis Drake Hotel

Link to Human Wasteland

Link to GoCar Tours

1. Priceonomics, The Steepest Streets in San Francisco, September 2015.
2. Wikipedia, Women in the California Gold Rush
3. UpOut San Francisco, 13 of the Most Haunted Places in San Francisco, October 23, 2015.
4. Citylab, The Cities Where Even 3 Minimum Wage Jobs Won’t Pay the Rent, by Richard Florida, March 26, 2014.
5. Investment Watch Blog, Fun Fact: Nancy Pelosi has a $196 million net worth on $198,000 salary, May 3, 2017.
6. Investopedia, Who Are America’s Seven Richest Senators, January 30, 2018.
7. San Francisco Chronicle, Those Needles Littering the Streets?, May 9, 2018.
8. Curbed, San Francisco hands our 4.5 million syringes each year, by Adam Brinklow, May 9, 2018.
9. NBC Bay Area, Diseased Streets, by Bigad Shaban, Robert Campos, Tony Rutanooshedech, & Michael Horn, February 18, 2018.
10. Coalition for the Homeless, www.homelesshouston.org, How many people are homeless in the Houston area?
11. The Economist, May 31, 2018, Can a new mayor fix San Francisco’s housing and homeless problems.
12. San Francisco Chronicle, Clean up San Francisco Streets, tourist industry pleads, by Heather Knight, April 17, 2018.
13. Crains Detroit Business, Bill Shea, Low-key ownership style suits San Francisco Giants’.