Stomping Ground
This is the story of my trip with Monica to San Francisco and El Cerrito.
Donna stops by to take care of her Exotic cats, currently housed in the basement of Monica’s house. She drops off Monica and I at the airport, where there are no lines. We were seated one in front of the other, but a man trades his seat, so that we can sit next to each other. He moves a second time to let a second couple sit together.
The flight seems very long, since my cell phone was confused as to which time zone we were in. Instead of one hour to go, we have two. Fortunately, we did not check in any luggage, because when we got to BART, it was the last trip of the day. We have no trouble with our hotel, the Mosser, just next to Powell Street and Market and sleep well.
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On Thursday morning, we wander off for breakfast. I carry a backpack with a cat carrier and Monica’s camera inside. We have croissants and Gelato, but no drinks. Just afterward, a man hands out free bottles of “Metromint”, which I like and am thirsty for. We walk up Grant Street from Union Square to Chinatown, then walk to Pier One. The F-Train is there, so we go to Fisherman’s Wharf (ships, the In and Out Burger, postcard buying, street performer in aluminum foil, sea lions, etc.) I still taste the Metromint two hours later, and my breath is the better for it.
We walk back to Pier One, not finding the windy part of Lombard and choose amongst various ferry rides. The Alameda-Oakland ferry is next time wise, which is ideal, since I have never been on it before. We have a good view of cargo ships and shipping yards. Then we walk from Jack London Square to downtown Oakland and catch BART to El Cerrito and my old neighborhood. We crisscross the neighborhood, but do not see Supernova, my cat, whom I plan to take back to Minnesota. We walk to the donut shop where they still remember me, then to my tax man, Armando. He asks his questions. “Job?” “Same.”
Supernova makes an appearance as we walk back to meet Mary, my old neighbor. He rushes into thatch as I say his name. Mary has me write a note to Lindy, the cat lady, so she can help track him down. We eat Thai as Mary catches me up on all of the latest El Cerrito break ins.
Now, I wonder if I will remember my locker combination for KALX and whether they have changed the combination for the radio station door. It is one for two. I drop the backpack in the locker and we explore Telegraph Ave. At 8:30, back at the station, I talk to two curmudgeons, Ray and Malcolm. Then, my old radio partners Jesse and Marshall stop by for their program. I could have gone on air with them for Soap Box Derby, but choose to answer the phone instead.
At the hotel, I listen to a message from Lindy. Supernova is at her house for one of the three meals per day he has enjoyed since even before I moved. Supernova often goes on walks with Lindy and her dog, Jenny. I may take Supernova if I wish. All I have to do is arrive at feeding time or let Lindy know that I want her to catch Supernova for me. As I think about this over the following days, I decide Supernova has a home. Monica tells me that Supernova has joined a commune.
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On Friday, I wanted to visit my writers’ group at the El Cerrito Senior Center. But, I was a little late and it ended early, so I missed it. However, Bob Burg met me on the BART trails, Margaret Irvin met me at the meeting area, and Gene Sharee shared the bus with me down San Pablo Ave. It worked out nicely to meet the people I know, one by one.
Enterprise told me I had reserved a cargo van on Shattuck, not San Pablo. They gave me a van anyway, to my relief and I was only a little late at my storage unit. The U-pack truck which was to arrive from noon to four had not arrived. This was good. I could catch my breathe.
I visit another stomping ground, the corner Chinese restaurant. I look for Supernova some more. I close out my PO Box. I empty my KALX locker and say goodbye to KALX management. Next, I pick up Monica at the North Berkeley BART, so that she can see my stacks of stuff and tell me what will not fit in the house. Surprisingly, she is not intimidated, figures it will all fit, and says that some of her stuff is also junk she might want to throw away. It is going to work out fine between us. We drink a year old Mountain Dew, left over from my month of living out of the storage unit and staying at hostels.
Next, we drive to Livermore to meet Mary and Alan, my aunt and uncle who previously watched over my car and invited me to Thanksgiving meals. Finally, we meet my friend, Alan, who has housed more of my stuff. It is raining while we load recliners and stereo equipment into the cargo van.
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I wake up at seven and drive to the Home Depot to pick up day laborers. We work hard through noon and get the heavy stuff to the front of the truck. They do not seem to understand my attempts to explain truck packing, and I am tired anyway, so I figure the rest can wait until another day. I exchange the rented cargo van for a more San Francisco-friendly Nissan Sentra.
I meet Monica at the hotel and become a tourist again. We drive around the Pacific coast of San Francisco, stopping near the zoo where I get a Dutch crunch and turkey sandwich. Monica and I walk to the beach where we stare at an island-- no, it is a boat-- and we stare at each other. We run into the Haight-Ashbury intersection, by accident, or by subconscious knowledge, where Monica takes pictures. Then, we join more tourists from around the globe next to and on the Golden Gate bridge. We go to Paradise Drive, where I lived for three months, passing the nearby Macy’s and Denny’s. We stop at the dog wash. (Costco closed at six, so no developing the pictures, yet.) We buy party shrimp and go to Bethany’s game night where we play Wise and Otherwise, the Polling Game, and Dahimi.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Sunday, we find German, and finish emptying the storage unit and loading the truck. German, another randomly chosen day laborer, does the arranging, and does a very nice job. Monica reminds us that we are hungry, and buys us sandwiches from across the street. She also supervises German at emptying the unit, cleans it up for inspection, and spreads sunshine.
We have not yet had our Sunday spiritual experience. We find the waves at Muir Beach inspiring and the sunset at Red Rock Beach more so. It is nice to be done with packing. It surprises me that everything fit so nicely.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday morning, I drive to my tax place, but they are closed, so I have another donut and return the rental car, leaving junk in the trunk. I return back via BART to find Monica in the shower.
First, I want a booklet from the Commonwealth Club, since I would like to start a similar organization in the Twin Cities. (I want to talk to Ricardo who does the Commonwealth Club sound engineering, but he is sick.) Monica wants a picture of the Port of San Francisco at Pier One. We find Chinatown after Pier One. Hang Tran, the place on the top of the hill next to the school yard is our choice for lunch. It seems like all of my family has been there. We find souvenirs for Monica’s friends and buy umbrellas for our walk back on Grant. This is our last full day and I am hoping to see the redwoods at Golden Gate Park, but it is nicer to relax together at the hotel.
The rain stops and we leisurely take MUNI to Golden Gate park. I am surprised how easily I find the redwoods, but do not remember that the arboretum closes at 4:30. Good thing we arrive at 4:15! We have a little extra time, and have a print of ourselves developed at Wahlgreens. It is an extreme close-up taken on the MUNI. Our expressions prove that Monica and I are in love. We have dinner at the Chieftan and listen to Bethany talk about Thailand, where I think we could afford to retire. Bethany drops us off at the Cheesecake Factory. We are not really hungry, just enough to eat half.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We have cheesecake for breakfast and an enjoyable BART ride. The unhappy people at NWA make us check carryons which survive. Monica chronicles her perspective of our trip while we fly back. (This version comes later.) Donna and Hunter pick us up at the airport.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It has been a mixture of business and pleasure for me. It was fun to show off the best of the bay to Monica and to see the sights through her fresh eyes. It was nice to catch up with old friends and to close out my Bay area life-- KALX, writer’s group, games night, storage unit, and even taxes. I assumed I would get back to Minnesota and be exhausted. Instead, I feel great on not so much sleep. That is how vacations are supposed to be! The end of a travel blog, perhaps, or at least the end of the traveling, for awhile.
Donna stops by to take care of her Exotic cats, currently housed in the basement of Monica’s house. She drops off Monica and I at the airport, where there are no lines. We were seated one in front of the other, but a man trades his seat, so that we can sit next to each other. He moves a second time to let a second couple sit together.
The flight seems very long, since my cell phone was confused as to which time zone we were in. Instead of one hour to go, we have two. Fortunately, we did not check in any luggage, because when we got to BART, it was the last trip of the day. We have no trouble with our hotel, the Mosser, just next to Powell Street and Market and sleep well.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Thursday morning, we wander off for breakfast. I carry a backpack with a cat carrier and Monica’s camera inside. We have croissants and Gelato, but no drinks. Just afterward, a man hands out free bottles of “Metromint”, which I like and am thirsty for. We walk up Grant Street from Union Square to Chinatown, then walk to Pier One. The F-Train is there, so we go to Fisherman’s Wharf (ships, the In and Out Burger, postcard buying, street performer in aluminum foil, sea lions, etc.) I still taste the Metromint two hours later, and my breath is the better for it.
We walk back to Pier One, not finding the windy part of Lombard and choose amongst various ferry rides. The Alameda-Oakland ferry is next time wise, which is ideal, since I have never been on it before. We have a good view of cargo ships and shipping yards. Then we walk from Jack London Square to downtown Oakland and catch BART to El Cerrito and my old neighborhood. We crisscross the neighborhood, but do not see Supernova, my cat, whom I plan to take back to Minnesota. We walk to the donut shop where they still remember me, then to my tax man, Armando. He asks his questions. “Job?” “Same.”
Supernova makes an appearance as we walk back to meet Mary, my old neighbor. He rushes into thatch as I say his name. Mary has me write a note to Lindy, the cat lady, so she can help track him down. We eat Thai as Mary catches me up on all of the latest El Cerrito break ins.
Now, I wonder if I will remember my locker combination for KALX and whether they have changed the combination for the radio station door. It is one for two. I drop the backpack in the locker and we explore Telegraph Ave. At 8:30, back at the station, I talk to two curmudgeons, Ray and Malcolm. Then, my old radio partners Jesse and Marshall stop by for their program. I could have gone on air with them for Soap Box Derby, but choose to answer the phone instead.
At the hotel, I listen to a message from Lindy. Supernova is at her house for one of the three meals per day he has enjoyed since even before I moved. Supernova often goes on walks with Lindy and her dog, Jenny. I may take Supernova if I wish. All I have to do is arrive at feeding time or let Lindy know that I want her to catch Supernova for me. As I think about this over the following days, I decide Supernova has a home. Monica tells me that Supernova has joined a commune.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Friday, I wanted to visit my writers’ group at the El Cerrito Senior Center. But, I was a little late and it ended early, so I missed it. However, Bob Burg met me on the BART trails, Margaret Irvin met me at the meeting area, and Gene Sharee shared the bus with me down San Pablo Ave. It worked out nicely to meet the people I know, one by one.
Enterprise told me I had reserved a cargo van on Shattuck, not San Pablo. They gave me a van anyway, to my relief and I was only a little late at my storage unit. The U-pack truck which was to arrive from noon to four had not arrived. This was good. I could catch my breathe.
I visit another stomping ground, the corner Chinese restaurant. I look for Supernova some more. I close out my PO Box. I empty my KALX locker and say goodbye to KALX management. Next, I pick up Monica at the North Berkeley BART, so that she can see my stacks of stuff and tell me what will not fit in the house. Surprisingly, she is not intimidated, figures it will all fit, and says that some of her stuff is also junk she might want to throw away. It is going to work out fine between us. We drink a year old Mountain Dew, left over from my month of living out of the storage unit and staying at hostels.
Next, we drive to Livermore to meet Mary and Alan, my aunt and uncle who previously watched over my car and invited me to Thanksgiving meals. Finally, we meet my friend, Alan, who has housed more of my stuff. It is raining while we load recliners and stereo equipment into the cargo van.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wake up at seven and drive to the Home Depot to pick up day laborers. We work hard through noon and get the heavy stuff to the front of the truck. They do not seem to understand my attempts to explain truck packing, and I am tired anyway, so I figure the rest can wait until another day. I exchange the rented cargo van for a more San Francisco-friendly Nissan Sentra.
I meet Monica at the hotel and become a tourist again. We drive around the Pacific coast of San Francisco, stopping near the zoo where I get a Dutch crunch and turkey sandwich. Monica and I walk to the beach where we stare at an island-- no, it is a boat-- and we stare at each other. We run into the Haight-Ashbury intersection, by accident, or by subconscious knowledge, where Monica takes pictures. Then, we join more tourists from around the globe next to and on the Golden Gate bridge. We go to Paradise Drive, where I lived for three months, passing the nearby Macy’s and Denny’s. We stop at the dog wash. (Costco closed at six, so no developing the pictures, yet.) We buy party shrimp and go to Bethany’s game night where we play Wise and Otherwise, the Polling Game, and Dahimi.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Sunday, we find German, and finish emptying the storage unit and loading the truck. German, another randomly chosen day laborer, does the arranging, and does a very nice job. Monica reminds us that we are hungry, and buys us sandwiches from across the street. She also supervises German at emptying the unit, cleans it up for inspection, and spreads sunshine.
We have not yet had our Sunday spiritual experience. We find the waves at Muir Beach inspiring and the sunset at Red Rock Beach more so. It is nice to be done with packing. It surprises me that everything fit so nicely.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday morning, I drive to my tax place, but they are closed, so I have another donut and return the rental car, leaving junk in the trunk. I return back via BART to find Monica in the shower.
First, I want a booklet from the Commonwealth Club, since I would like to start a similar organization in the Twin Cities. (I want to talk to Ricardo who does the Commonwealth Club sound engineering, but he is sick.) Monica wants a picture of the Port of San Francisco at Pier One. We find Chinatown after Pier One. Hang Tran, the place on the top of the hill next to the school yard is our choice for lunch. It seems like all of my family has been there. We find souvenirs for Monica’s friends and buy umbrellas for our walk back on Grant. This is our last full day and I am hoping to see the redwoods at Golden Gate Park, but it is nicer to relax together at the hotel.
The rain stops and we leisurely take MUNI to Golden Gate park. I am surprised how easily I find the redwoods, but do not remember that the arboretum closes at 4:30. Good thing we arrive at 4:15! We have a little extra time, and have a print of ourselves developed at Wahlgreens. It is an extreme close-up taken on the MUNI. Our expressions prove that Monica and I are in love. We have dinner at the Chieftan and listen to Bethany talk about Thailand, where I think we could afford to retire. Bethany drops us off at the Cheesecake Factory. We are not really hungry, just enough to eat half.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We have cheesecake for breakfast and an enjoyable BART ride. The unhappy people at NWA make us check carryons which survive. Monica chronicles her perspective of our trip while we fly back. (This version comes later.) Donna and Hunter pick us up at the airport.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It has been a mixture of business and pleasure for me. It was fun to show off the best of the bay to Monica and to see the sights through her fresh eyes. It was nice to catch up with old friends and to close out my Bay area life-- KALX, writer’s group, games night, storage unit, and even taxes. I assumed I would get back to Minnesota and be exhausted. Instead, I feel great on not so much sleep. That is how vacations are supposed to be! The end of a travel blog, perhaps, or at least the end of the traveling, for awhile.
posted by David Rasmussen at 1:47 PM
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