1) Aphrodesia
3) San Francisco Street Food Festival
2) Dan Savage and the campsite rule of dating
4) Backyard BBQ band parties and Danielle's bluegrass band Understory
I was going to open by complaining about the place where I get waxed, but I decided instead to post it on yelp. Sometimes, there's an appropriate place for all things.
Friday night, we went to see Aphrodesia at the Great American Music Hall. I'm a venue snob, and this is one of about 3 San Francisco music venues that I love. Non-loved venues I tend to avoid even when my most-favorite bands play there.
Apparently, it was prom night, and the vocalists donned gorgeous dresses and Henry wore a bow tie. I love their estrogen-fueled afro-beat, so much more accessible than the alternative. I read in the SF Weekly that these mostly-white Americans sang to a village in Ghana in the people's native tongue.
Saturday morning, I moved very slowly, but eventually ended up at the Street Food Festival on Folsom. It was absolute clusterf*#k (in the words of a friend of a friend on facebook). I was delighted that it was so popular, but the street was literally too crowded to walk down. All my crowd control skills painfully learned at Berkeley High School did me no good.
I considered stopping at Philz for a coffee (also with too many people -- maybe I will try again today) and noticed that the woman in front of me in line was texting that many stands had run out of food already (it was 3p and the event was supposed to end at 7p). My unsolicited advice to the organizers for next year: more space, more stalls, more space between stalls.... They are clearly onto something! It should be huge, and it needs huge space.
(Not to be mean but) I was delighted to see women search for parking in my Mission literally in tears and the sidewalks not wide enough for all the pedestrians 6+ blocks from the event. Here are a few cyclists searching for parking with much more calm.
I took my bike a little further away to Ritual Cafe where I used my "heavy drinker" 10-punch card for a free mocha. (There's a story about this I will cover another time.) I read the SF Weekly because it was on the table.
Savage Love this week exposed me to a new concept that I loved: the camp site rule of dating which says you must "leave him in better shape than you found him." I recall the boyfriend I taught to drive, the one who exposed me to the profession in which I still work, and the one I encouraged to take pictures, fix his bike, and ultimately moved from my apartment into one he bought (even if he's still angry with me, he can't argue with the facts). I see opportunity in people, and some of them find me incredibly irritating when I encourage them to realize their potential. But I think I wouldn't mind being left if I was in a better place than when I was found. I like this rule.
Last night was Danielle's band BBQ where her bluegrass group, Understory, played their first public set. But first, on my way over there, I saw these guys playing with red scarves in the middle of Valencia. I'm thinking Valencia may be the center of the Universe.
When Danielle plays the violin, tears literally fill my eyes it's so beautiful. In San Francisco, nearly everyone does something creative and quirky like affluent white kids singing about coal mining. (A random example that just spring to my mind out of now where.) I love it!
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