Cracked out

Krims Krams Palace of Fine Junk, Turk Street

Day 52
Neighborhoods Covered: Western Addition, Civic Center, Tenderloin
Streets Completed: Dodge Place, Olive, Myrtle, Hemlock, Ophir, Trader Vic Alley, Cosmo, Shannon, Isadora Duncan (Adelaide), Hobart, Derby, Elm

The Tenderloin may not be the most hideous neighborhood in the city (What is? Check back in December.), but it's definitely up there on the list. Though there are some lovely old buildings, a good smattering of mini parks, good cheap restaurants and dive bars, and several places to catch live music or theater, there are also many, many examples of what happens if you throw your life away and don't do much (if anything) to try and retrieve it.

On Sunday, I headed out from home and did a weaving back-and-forth on the short east-west streets running roughly between Van Ness and Larkin, then headed into the 'Loin. Although the parting of the clouds and the sudden, bright arrival of the sun made for some warmer strolling and some striking photos, the improved weather did nothing to help the neighborhood as a whole. It was still deeply, seriously grungy and overwhelmingly redolent of urine.

Perhaps because it was Sunday afternoon, I passed several families with small children as I was out and about, often right before I passed (or stepped around) folks weaving down the sidewalk or sprawled out on same, incoherent and messed up on something. At the corner of Hyde and Turk, I passed a woman and a man sharing hits off a crack pipe literally moments before I nearly walked into a couple pushing a stroller and leading two slightly older kids by the hand--and that just depressed me.

This might be a borderline Republican thing to say, but I have such limited sympathy for the inhabitants of the 'Loin who cause and then wallow in their own misery, and I feel so much for the people who make their homes in this neighborhood because, by and large and like it or not, it's where they can afford to live. There are complexities and subtleties to addiction such as it's manifest on these streets, and I don't dismiss them easily. But still, it's so incredibly frustrating and sad to see the polarities of existence in this grid of city blocks.

Eleven years in the city have shown me many things, and I've long been inured to most of them. On Sunday, though, long after I'd walked home and moved onto other things, the image of those two groups at Hyde and Turk stuck with me. I hate to think what those parents have to teach their kids not to see.

Rapid Development and Urban Wastelands

Terry A. Francois Boulevard

Day 31
Co-Walker: Scott
Neighborhoods Covered: Mission Bay, Dogpatch, Central Waterfront, Bayview, India Basin, Western Addition, Japantown, Civic Center
Streets Completed: Hollis, Western Shore, Lottie Bennett Lane, Inca Lane, Bertie Minor Lane, Zampa, Cleary, Peter Yorke, Daniel Burnham Court, Cedar, Starr King

Today's award for Most Accommodating Friend goes to Scott, hands down. Not only did he agree to walk with me despite having a slight hangover, not only did he drive us down to Mission Bay (thus sparing the wait for the T), and not only did he cheerfully stroll random stretches of the San Francisco waterfront and step through the chaotic construction happening there, he also was the best possible sport when I led us directly into the middle of the city's industrial wasteland.

So, see, we walked along the water for a while (and not, I might add, quite the most scenic stretch), then headed south along 3rd Street until we hit Cesar Chavez, at which point I claimed we should head west in order to reach Jerrold, where we'd find a Ritual Coffee outpost in the Flora Grubb Garden Center. As it happens, of course, Jerrold in fact east of 3rd, and the more we walked, the farther away we got. We turned off of CC and onto Evans, but really, that was of no help whatsoever, and by the time we reached the corner of Evans and Rankin--where the street signs actually creaked as they swung in the wind and, as Scott said, "I expected to see a tumbleweed roll by and to run into some old guy saying, 'You all aren't from around these parts, are you?'--we knew Ritual would no longer be in our plans.

We made our way back to 3rd and retraced our steps until we got to 22nd, where we swung west again, but accurately this time, and stopped for lunch at Piccino. It was a stellar, mild day, so we sat outside lingering over lunch, dessert, wine (for me), coffee (for Scott), and a long conversation about relationships. As we finally wended our way back down Tennessee to the car, I realized that for the first time in several weeks (almost precisely four, in fact), I was actually effortlessly happy. That's not to say I haven't had good moments in the past month, but rather that they've all come with an asterisk of sorts. For a few hours this afternoon, that asterisk disappeared.

After Scott dropped me home, I took a short break and then decided to head out again to take more advantage of the day. This time I went north, taking Webster to Geary and tackling the tangle of streets in and around the St. Francis Co-op. (Much of this was, strictly technically, trespassing, but I managed to make my way back to public streets without incident.) I spent some time walking around the Washing Machine Church at Geary and Gough, which I've driven by a billion times (approximately) but have never before seen up close. It's fascinating, and must be stunning from the inside on a day like today. I was content to shoot a few photos and move on.

Something heavy is starting to lift. Though I still often feel like I'm wearing one of those back bracing belts that's been fitted with weights so that there's a downward pull on everything unless I redouble my efforts, on days like today I get to take the belt off. And looking out over the Bay through a chain-link fence, or walking (very rapidly) down a street that's totally new and strange to me, or stopping in the square of an apartment complex to watch the moon come out on one side of me and the sun slowly start to lower on the other, I feel a flutter of calmness.

I've missed that.