San Francisco is My Home

San Francisco is My Home

19
Mar

311


I went to Bottom of the Hill to see a friend’s band play last night. (The band is Truxton, and while I am of course a biased reviewer, I recommend checking them out. The rock is fierce, the performance energetic, and the music all harmonious and stuff.)

Afterwards, feeling independent and not yet aware how severely undressed I was for the external temperature, I turned down a ride home and elected to take the bus.

Twenty minutes later, concerned for my near-frostbitten fingers, I stood anxiously in the middle of the empty street, searching the horizon with yearning, runny eyes for a bus that still had not appeared. The nice thing was I was able to get some chat time in with the kind folks at 311.

In case you do not know, 311 is the number you call when you are stranded at a freezing bus stop in the middle of the evening and your bus isn’t coming. You tell them where you are and what line you’re waiting for and which direction you’re going (they can help you with the inbound/outbound thing if you’re not sure) and they can tell you where your bus is using advanced satellite technology, or possibly magic.

The i.m. Gavin Newsom, let me tell you, LOVES this service. I’ve heard him randomly mention it at more than one press conference. (And a digression: man, it has been WAY too long since I’ve been to one of his press conferences. No wonder he’s getting married, without me to gaze at him adoringly from the third row on a bi-weekly basis.)  He loves it with good reason. I don’t know why, but it’s a lot easier to wait that extra twenty minutes if you can get regular updates on where the hell your bus is.

So that is the message of today’s free-form Wednesday. 311: use the number. (But avoid the band.)

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11
Mar

The Pacific Coast Brewing Company


Tuesday may become a weekly business review. I like structure, you know? It’s un-San Franciscan of me, but it is very Franciscan.

Let’s test this Tuesday review out with a discussion of the Pacific Coast Brewing Company in Oakland. You walk in and you assume this is a chain restaurant. The name alone is generic and, geographically speaking, broad enough to encompass a string of breweries up and down the coast, right? However, it’s actually an independent brewery whose owners sent away for a “How to Build Your Own Brewery” kit.

Like the most of California breweries, this one features dark wood furnishings, slightly dim lighting, big ceilings, great beer and substandard American cuisine. Actually, the burgers are so bad they’re almost English — they have that weird, sponge-like resistance when you bite them, like they were recently frozen and then microwaved.

But the beers are great. Also, I liked the relaxed atmosphere. I was there on a Monday night with some friends, and we were able to play a lengthy board game without being hassled. I’m sure later in the week this place fills up and you can’t park a table, even if at least one of you is always nursing a beer, but for early in the week it’s a good place to chill.

I can’t say if this is always the case, but our waitress was as laid back as we were. If it annoys you to have to flag down your waitstaff then this isn’t ideal for you, but I liked it because it meant she wasn’t rushing us out of there, and also there was a corresponding “human person” element in her dealings with us. I didn’t feel like we had a servant, more like an acquaintance happened to be bringing us more napkins.

On the whole, I would say this place is great for drinks after work or for drinks after dinner, but avoid eating here unless you stick to simple stuff like french fries. Still, it’s worth a trip for the beers alone.

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29
Feb

Zeitgeist


It’s been one of those February weeks that only San Francisco (and points South) can pull off, full of fluttery spring breezes and buttery summer heat. For some reason we tend to get at least one heatwave at this time of year. It contributes to our sense of entitlement. Hey, we must be doing something right if the weather gods keep sending us this blissful little break, right? It’s probably all the tofu we eat.

When it’s sunny out, there’s really only one place to be, and that’s Zeitgeist, the city’s only beer garden. Alas, this is not one of those idyllic German-style gardens where whole families chill together in intergenerational harmony; instead, Zeitgeist is home to bikers (of the motorized variety) and hipsters.

The pleasure of drinking good beer outdoors is always greater than you expect it to be, and it’s tripled when you’re surrounded by some of the city’s hippest and hottest young folk. Add to this an inspired chef manning the barbecue pit and you’ve got yourself a little nirvana nestled just next to the freeway.

A warning: the Zeitgeist cooks will cheerfully hate you. That seems to be the baseline they operate from. I’ve been told that a generous tip, timed when the cook is looking your way, earns you a spit-free burger and maybe even a smile, but I can’t guarantee anything. Proceed at your own risk.

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29
Feb

No loitering


On Tuesday, our Supes — call them Supervisors or Superstars, it all depends on whether they’re being idiots or geniuses on any given day — will discuss a proposed legislation banning anyone from loitering outside a nightclub for more than 180 seconds between 9 pm and 3 am.

I know what you’re thinking: what the hell is a nightclub? The closest thing we’ve got is Harry Denton’s Starlight Room. But assuming they just mean normal clubs, I still know what you’re thinking: what about smokers? Fear not, my magic dragons, for smokers will be exempt from this rule.

The legislation is an effort to cut down on violent crime. What it would essentially mean is that violent criminals would still be free to lurk and skulk where butterflies of the night gather, but they’d have to be holding a cigarette or risk being hassled. Is this a longterm death penalty from our uber-liberal Supes? Are we condemning these criminals to a life of addiction, gradually ending in horrible, cancerous deaths? And as an added side benefit, most of them would also develop fierce hacking coughs which would alert any potential victims to the skulker in the shadows.

Again, I pose the question: Supervisors? Or Superstars? I just never know.

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25
Feb

Monday roundup


It’s your weekend roundup, presented on a Monday for once.

Friday, February 29

Celebrate the most unusual day in February with a concert by a truly unusual band. The Magnetic Fields are playing at the Herbst Theatre for Noisepop, though at this point you’ll have to skulk around Craigslist to get a ticket. If paying double the price for a scalped admission doesn’t appeal, you could always embrace the true spirit of Noisepop by picking the venue closest to your house and seeing whoever’s on offer. You will almost certainly not be disappointed. Noisepop is the premiere event in town this weekend, so check the schedule for all the days and don’t miss out.

Saturday, March 1

If Noisepop is just too hep for you, maybe you want to do something much, much lamer. In that case, I recommend hosting a rousing celebration of St. David’s Day, the day sacred to the patron saint of Wales. A ten minute Google search proved that there isn’t a large, thriving community of Welsh immigrants in the Bay Area, but you can at least knock a few celebratory pints back at the Prince of Wales Pub in San Mateo. Or, again, you could check out Noisepop.

Sunday, March 2

Feeling nostalgic for those drama days of high school? Buy a ticket for the Bay One Acts, running February 21 through March 16 and hosted by the enjoyably named Three Wise Monkeys Theatre Company. (Doesn’t anyone spell it “theater” around here? Seriously.) I’ve never been to anything put on by this company, so I’m not necessarily endorsing it, but if it sucks, hey, it was only one act long.

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Remember: Noisepop. It’s a good thing.

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31
Jan

The Trappist in Oakland


I don’t know how you feel about Belgian beers, but if you like things that are good then you probably like them. Imagine your excitement, then, to hear that a new bar has opened in downtown Oakland devoted almost entirely to Belgian brews. Called The Trappist, it’s tucked very snugly indeed into a small space on 8th Street. The bar is all lovely dark wood and exposed brick. Get there when they open at 4:00 Wednesday through Friday and ensure you get seats, or show up around 6:00 for the post-work rush. With 15 rotating beers on tap and tons and tons of bottled beers — none from a giant corporation — you can drink here every night and never get bored. Added bonus: the owners, who tend the bar themselves, are both knowledgeable and handsome.

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Photo from the Trappist website.

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28
Jan

Benefit for Rocket Dog Rescue


Those of you who were struck by the sad destruction of Rocket Dog Rescue’s headquarters but didn’t know what to do about it are in luck. On Friday, February 1, you can attend a benefit for the non-profit dog rescue group at Slim’s, featuring a dazzling lineup of performers, plus some disco funtimes. Show starts at 8:30, and you can buy tickets here.

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Flyer from Rocket Dog website.

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03
Jan

Jupiter and the Jungle Queen


I went to Jupiter in Berkeley last night for the first time in at least a year. Jupiter serves excellent — and I mean excellent, in the finest tradition of California cuisine — pizzas, as well as an assortment of its own beers and many guest beers. The inside is all dark wood and white lights, and the patio out back is multi-level, with a fountain and heat lamps and plenty of tables, oh my.

This bar also served up two of my three significant ex-boyfriends, and though it has been years since either of them worked there, the waitstaff is still amply stocked with handsome young folk of all genders and orientations.

The only downside is that the upstairs area used to boast a truly top-notch pinball machine known as The Jungle Queen, a game around which an impressive layer of staff myths and rules had been constructed. (For example, I was once chastised for jokingly blaming the machine for my own bad playing. “We don’t blame the Queen,” my then-fella told me, looking ashamed for my transgression.) Now the Queen is nowhere to be found, and today’s waitstaff have not even heard of her legend, nor can anyone tell me of her fall. Just one more sign that I am getting old, I guess.


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31
Dec

The Brainwash


There’s a city legend claiming every new performance artist — everyone from stand-up comics to musicians to magicians — is obligated to perform at the Brainwash at least once at the beginning of his or her career.

The Brainwash is number two in our fusion series, because in addition to being a locally famous performance venue, it’s also a cafe/laundromat. You can wash your whites while you dazzle the audience with your Jeff Buckley covers. Or come for the show and stay for the Captain, a harmlessly nutty gentleman in a crisp captain’s hat who wanders in and out, greeting everyone present about once an hour.

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31
Dec

The Beauty Bar


One thing I love about this city is our fusion services. First up in the fusion series: the Beauty Bar. Located among the Mission dive bars, the Beauty Bar offers some exotic cocktails (apparently the purpley-pink Shampoo is quite the drink), and on weekends when you order a $10 cocktail the bar throws in a free manicure. (That’s where the fusion comes in.) The bar is tiny and often packed, so if you’re not into crowds then this won’t be your most favorite hangout ever, but you should stop by at least once to take in the salon-style decor and the shimmery regulars.

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