Loma Prieta 20th Anniversary

On October 17th, 1989 the streets of San Francisco trembled and shook as if shivering in fear. The bridge tore itself apart. There were no cell phones, there was only the heavy weight of silence. The floor slid like ice. The glass in the windows bent and slithered as if it were dancing to the reverberations of a heavy bass. The leaves fell. The dogs barked. The air was thick.

There were gas leaks and electricity burn outs. There was darkness. There was fear.

But there were beautiful things too. People held each other close. They pressed their lips to the cheeks and lips of those around them. They cried like babbling brooks, laughing as they went. They came together and showed the depths of the human spirit, helping one another up, turning of the gas at a neighbor's house, listening to the radio together in silence. They kept each other close as if fearing that they would never see their neighbors or friends again; as if anyone could disappear at any moment. One can only hope that if such a thing were to happen again tomorrow, we would act the same. We would open our arms and come together. We would cry into the shirts of strangers and laugh at the fragility of everything that we thought was solid. We would be grateful for everything we have. We would smell the gas free air, we would tread around the broken glass, we would pull our rations together and feed each other like we were family, all over again.

Location: San Francisco, CA, U.S.A.

SFOh No...

Airports, I am told, used to bring out the best in people. There would be tears and hugs, laughter and joy, and general love in the air; no longer. No longer does this seem to be the case. This morning, in an act of last minute desperation to try and see a friend whose life seems in resent months to Chris-cross my own, I headed to see her off at the airport (an airport where, only two weeks ago I stepped on American soil again). San Francisco's Airport or SFO, today, was full of a bunch of grumps. No longer were there the hugs and smiles of the past. Now there is just rush and grumble. There are tears for reasons other than missing people, tears of stress and worry about making a flight, about having heavy luggage; about everything. People have flight times on the mind and carbon footprints. There is no longer the feel of camaraderie and excitement: "YAY! I'M GOING TO TO NEW YORK!" or other such comments. It is just a pool of worry.

For example: My friend, who is moving to NYC for three months, had one bag, one backpack, and a guitar. I was to meet her at the airport check-in line for her airline. When I saw her, she was crying. People had rushed past her, not let her on the BART train, there had been traffic, and she had been told that her luggage was to heavy and she would have to throw things out. She was stressed and tired and traveling was no longer exciting for her. This is wrong.

Traveling should be exciting. It is about having ADVENTURES and seeing new places (or old places with a new eye). Travel is about meeting people and experiencing new things. Travel is also magical. Airplanes soaring over the sky, ships lifting their sails to head off to strange lands, trains embarking on cross-continental journeys. THAT is what travel is supposed to be about.

Location: SFO Airport, San Francisco, CA, U.S.A.

Between 19th and 20th street...

In San Francisco, California, you will find many interesting and wonderful people and places. One such place is of course 826 Valencia and the Pirate shop. If you are a San Franciscan and you have never been to 826, then I really do not know what to say to you. Apparently you fail.

826 Valencia is a writing center and an institution in San Francisco. Founded by Ninive Calegari and Dave Eggers, the writing center has become immensely popular and attracts so many kids that they've branched out to become 826 National and have writing centers in San Francisco, L.A., Chicago, Michigan, Boston, Seattle, and NYC. When I was in high school (at a school where Ninive Calegari used to be a teacher), I participated in one of 826 Valencia's projects, a book called: Talking Back: What Students Know About Teaching. I'm pretty sure that the essay I wrote about six years ago is on page 52... I am positive about this.

To get back to the point though... 826 = Amazing.

The best part is this:

You've just parked your car/ just road your bike/ just walked over from BART/ just walked down 20th street. Before turning the corner onto Valencia you see Dog Eared Books on the corner and cannot help but peek in. You see worn copies of Balzac and ironically a few books by Dave Eggers. You roam through the politics section and then peruse the travel section. You walk past the staff picks and then continue on out the door and across the street. You walk down the street and stare at your feet going CLOMP STOMP STAMP and then you see a quarter on the floor and sneakily check over your, first left, then right shoulders to see if it is anyone's. Then you lean down and grab it really quickly. You hold it tightly in your hand and squeeze the small metal disk. You make a wish. Your eyes are tightly closed as you wish. When you open them, you see another bookstore. This one is called Modern Times Bookstore. You go in, you check your bag, and you push past the isle with the Hipster Haiku, and over to the Pocket Politics.

You leave the store and continue onward down Valencia. Then you are there. That place of places. That shop of shops. The Pirate Shop at 826 Valencia. You walk in the door and it is like a treasure cave. You are looking at books on a table and then ALL OF THE SUDDEN you feel something soft and stringy fall on your head. You look up and find that you've been "mopped." This is a true Pirate Shop experience. You pull out drawers. You find a cage for Tinker Bell. You see bottles of sand labeled with names of countries. Nothing has a price tag. There are books and pirate flags. Sometimes there are planks to walk and shovels to dig for burried treasure. There are eye patches and compases. There are jeweled rings and rusty locks. There are dice and candels. You are in a ship. The only way to leave is to walk the plank.

Location: 826 Valencia/ The Pirate Shop, San Francisco, CA, U.S.A.