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Secret Adventure Day #8

Your mission, should you choose to accept…

BJ and I began our awesome “Secret Adventure Day” tradition just over two years ago. We take turns, surprising each other with an entire day’s, or sometimes weekend’s, activities, averaging one adventure about every three months.

Last Saturday was our eighth such event and it was my turn to be surprised. My instructions were as follows, given to me one day ahead:

Tomorrow, please dress in a sophisticated manner, probably with layers because you’ll be in temperatures from 50 degrees to 70 degrees. Also, please wear shoes that are comfortable for walking. There is a 33% chance of rain, so don’t wear things that can’t get wet and consider bringing a rain jacket and/or an umbrella (more sophisticated).

Please pack whatever you need to stay overnight somewhere. Our Sunday activities are minimal so you don’t need to wear any certain clothes on Sunday, in fact, if you wanted to you could re-wear Saturday’s clothes.

Tomorrow will be a long day (do we ever make secret adventure days not long?), so tonight let’s make sure to get good sleep. We’ll be leaving the house at 8:30 or 8:35. I would recommend drinking coffee & having a small snack (small bowl of cereal maybe?) before leaving the house.

Make sure your phone is charged. Feel free to bring your little camera, but don’t bring your big camera.

Gettin’ going

I followed the directions, dressing in sharp wool pants, a collared shirt, pea coat, and less-than-comfortable-but-oh-so-sophisticated boots. We left the house on-time, but as I started to walk towards the car I was quickly corrected. “We’re not taking the car” she said.

Smiling I turned around and she led me to the corner bus stop. We only waited a couple of minutes before old 18 lumbered up and we climbed aboard. From here I guessed that we would be hopping on BART in downtown Berkeley which is exactly what we did.

It’s actually a problem I have; I love being surprised, but on these adventures I cannot help but guess as to what is to come. Fortunately BJ still had plenty of surprises up her sleeve, which became clear as the day wore on.

We exited the subway at Civic Center. BJ got her bearings and led me a few blocks into the Tenderloin where there were innumerable unpleasantries to greet us. Sadly that is the price one must pay to reach our first destination: The Phoenix Hotel.

Part of the Joie de Vivre boutique hotel collection, the Phoenix is a diamond in the rough of the TL. It’s a modernized mid-century motel, with hip, tiki-themed decor. It was only 9:30 am, so we were just planning to drop our bags at the front desk, but it turned out that we could check-in early. Sweet!

We dropped the bags in the room, and I was warned that we would not be returning until late at night. I rifled through my bag, wondering if I needed anything, but no, I wanted to travel light. I hesitated, but even decided to leave my trusty LX3 camera, figuring my phone, and BJ’s point-and-shoot would be enough.

French soul food

Back outside we headed west to Polk street, and right around the corner was Brenda’s French Soul Food. Breakfast was at hand! Brenda’s is a hole-in-the-wall, New Orleans inspired, breakfast heaven. The meal consisted of eggs, biscuit, grits, beef grillades with a cajun gravy, a flight of four beignets (spicy crawfish, plain, apple, and chocolate) and chicory coffee. Holy shit it was good. And we had great service and a cozy atmosphere to boot. Brenda’s is aces in my book.

Brenda's beignets

Chicory coffee and beignets; tastes like New Orleans

Brenda's stellar breakfast

Heaven on a plate

French fotos

Sufficiently stuffed, we strolled to the bus stop at Geary and Van Ness. The 38L came along pretty shortly, and we headed east. BJ had us exit at Market Street and guided me down to 3rd Street. Our destination was obvious: the Cartier-Bresson exhibit at SFMOMA

Paging through a book of French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson’s stunning images, while working in a library in 1994, led me to pick up a camera myself. Photography became a minor obsession of mine and has helped shape my adult life, in school, travel, work, and more.

One of the countless of breathtaking images at the Cartier-Bresson exhibit.

One of the countless breathtaking images at the Cartier-Bresson exhibit.

So needless to say I was thrilled to be attending this exhibit. It is an insanely thorough retrospective, spanning everything from pre-Mao China to post-Hitler France, from sensual nudes, to cold celebrity portraiture. His street photography is breathtaking, and the in-camera framing is among the best. The show occupies one entire floor of the museum, and by the end of the circuit my dogs were certainly barking up a storm.

But there was more! We decided to explore a second photography exhibit, one-floor up. The show “Exposed” is a study of voyeurism, surveillance, and other uncomfortable flavors of photography. It is quite varied, and a little inconsistent, but full of compelling images nonetheless. There’s an uncomfortable feeling looking at many of the images, some with a peeping tom effect, and others depicting graphic violence. The show is not as worthy as Cartier-Bresson, but still interesting, especially for photo nerds like myself.

French lunch

Before we knew it, it was 2:00 and time for some lunch. Not that we were really very hungry after Brenda’s, but BJ had a reservation at nearby Cafe Claude and sitting down sounded like a grand idea.

Cafe Claude is a charming French bistro tucked in a hidden alleyway between the Financial District and Union Square. The food is authentically French, sophisticated, but not pretentious, and the service and environment are excellent.

To drink I enjoyed a ginger vodka martini, and BJ had the Liberte, made with rum and citrus, with a cinnamon/salt rim. Additional cocktails and/or wine was awfully tempting, but I knew we still had a long day ahead, and there would be more drinks to come, so somehow I resisted.

Meanwhile to eat we shared a splendid croque madame with green beans and endive salad, followed by chocolate mousse. I blame my mom for the mousse, as she got me hooked eating that stuff at an early age 🙂

Kitties

Post Claude, we ambled towards Union Square, dodging throngs of big-spending Christmas shoppers, aggressive cabbies, and Santa be-dressed youth. As we approached the seasonal skating rink I had a brief panic and guessed that we were going to do some ice skating. Fortunately BJ knows me better than that and we passed the rink, heading towards Macy’s.

Every Christmas Macy’s partners with the SPCA to create holiday window displays featuring puppies and kittens needing a home. It’s a great cause of course, and a pretty savvy marketing move as well, because it creates one more reason to make Macy’s a destination during the holiday shopping season.

The few kitties, and one puppy we saw were adorable, but sadly for us, about half of the animals were absent the windows as we went by. Happily though, according to the volunteer manning the donation box, the reason for at least one of the vacancies was a recent adoption, so we considered that a win.

Kabletown

The kitties at Macy’s turned out to be little more than a pitstop on the way to our next destination, which was a cable car ride. BJ said that either of the two Powell lines was a viable option, so we caught the less-popular Mason one without any delay.

Our destination turned out to be not far, at Washington Street. We got off and appropriately enough walked from the cable car, up a block to the…cable car museum! Now, you may not know this, but not only am I photo nerd, but a public transit and infrastructure nerd as well. I’m so nerdy in fact, that I often spend my free time redesigning the Bay Area transit systems in my own vision. For example, why oh why don’t we have a BART line running from Ocean Beach, all the way under Geary Street, to Montgomery? And what about Marin? BART to San Rafael? Come on people!!!

Sigh, I anticipate future blog posts about this, but to get back on track, let’s just say the museum was a superb choice on BJ’s part. It is full of all kinds of memorabilia to pore over, including a number of classic cars, signs, tokens, newspaper clippings, maps, and more. The 1906 earthquake is documented heavily as it greatly affected the system, and turned out to be the catalyst that sped the demise of the cable cars in favor of the automobile and electric streetcars. Best of all is the ability to view the power house, which is the beating heart of the cable car system. There are massive GE motors endlessly turning large grooved wheels, which guide the cables under the street.

Next stop: adventure!

Next stop: adventure!

Cable car powerhouse

The cable car powerhouse. Look at those big motors!

Kabuki

From the museum we hiked to the top of Nob Hill to catch the 1 California bus. It was surprisingly crowded so we held on for dear life as the bus navigated the hills. Eventually we got a seat and people-watched until Fillmore, where we disembarked.

It was about 5:00, getting dark and raining a bit. But still, lots of folks were out and about, shopping, dining, etc. We passed them all, and before long found ourselves turning left at Geary where BJ guided me into the Kabuki Springs. We were right on time for a 60 minute massage appointment!

After being on my feet in stiff boots, and occasional pouring rain, the idea of lying down on a warm table for an hour, while a petite-yet-strong woman massaged away my kinks was divine. It was the perfect respite in the middle of our manic day, and we left the spa rejuvenated.

For our next activity, it was but a brief stroll around the corner to the Sundance Kabuki Cinemas for a screening of the new Harry Potter movie. We had recently caught up on the last few Potter DVD’s in anticipation of this new movie, so it was not entirely unexpected. Still, it was a perfect decision on BJ’s part, in terms of timing, and location. The Kabuki is an excellent upscale joint that allows reserved seating, has great picture and sound, and serves beer and wine. We had popcorn and drinks, and enjoyed the film quite a bit.

Kabaret Kab

After the movie we flagged down a cab. Little did I know that our driver was Buzz Brooks, mighty busking-cabbie extraordinaire. The ride was unimaginable. BJ announced our destination (the Wayfare Tavern), and as Buzz expertly navigated the heavy traffic of a Saturday night in SF, he started to warn us about some undesirable elements hanging out around the Wayfare after hours. One of them, he embarrassingly claimed, was actually his aunt Peg, and as he started to describe her, he leaned over, turned up the music, and broke out into song!

Buzz simultaneously was singing along with his own song which was playing on the stereo, while calmly maneuvering through the city streets. The music was smooth jazz, but the lyrics were Dr. Demento-esque insanity, describing an ugly, mustached, post-menopausal woman. He kept looking back at us, kind of freaking us out actually, as maybe his eyes weren’t quite on the road enough, but we arrived at the Wayfare unscathed.

I thought that somehow BJ had arranged the whole thing, but she assured me that no, it was just  incredibly serendipitous, and highly appropriate for Secret Adventure Day. I could see how easily it would have been to be annoyed by the whole thing, but fortunately we were in just the right mood, which allowed us to enjoy it. It was so much fun in fact, that I agreed to Buzz’s suggestion to pay $20, instead of the $8 on the meter, and he threw in a Kabaret Kab CD. I know, I’m a sucker.

Buzz is classic, kooky San Francisco. If you want a sense of what such a ride is like, here’s a YouTube video.

Wayfare

The Wayfare Tavern is a trendy new spot, and it was still going strong when we arrived at 10:00. BJ had tried weeks earlier to get us reservations, but to no avail — even at that late hour! We were relegated to the bar area, where we ordered cocktails and prowled for open seats. Soon enough, some people left and we snatched their seats. I knew right away that I would be ordering the burger, as I had read of its magical qualities already. BJ settled on a small dinner of mushroom soup paired with a bone marrow appetizer.

Wayfare burger

The Wayfare burger; does it live up to its $18 price tag?

Sadly the food was only just OK. We had heard a lot of buzz about the place, and frankly it didn’t live up. BJ’s soup was not well seasoned, and the burger was decent, but hardly worth $18. One highlight though was the oven-fresh popovers served in place of dinner rolls. Light, flaky, and buttery, these croissant-esque buns are pretty magical. And fortunately the cocktails and wine, friendly barstaff, and nice decor helped to make the visit worthwhile, but not spectacular.

Back to the ranch

We were done with our adventure. Full, tired, and a little drunk, we flagged down a cab for the journey back to the hotel. It was only 11:30, but after spending all day playing we were ready to turn in. Of course 11:30 on a Saturday night in the heart of the Tenderloin is not a sleep-friendly environment, and we struggled with the noisy neighborhood. There was the usual traffic and sirens, and a nearby house-party complete with drunken smokers talking loudly on the fire escape, and the surprise 3:30-am-wakeup-call of marathon sexual escapades from guests in the neighboring hotel room.

Still, we were able to sleep through most of it, and awoke to bagels and coffee poolside at the Phoenix. We sat under a heat lamp, watching rain drops dot the pool, and reminisced about the previous day’s adventures.

Thank you BJ for such a great Secret Adventure Day! I’ll have trouble topping that one 🙂

That was fast

Well, that didn’t take long. I knew it would be hard to keep up with this blog, but I didn’t expect to fail so quickly.

My goal had been to average one significant post per week, but here I am 3+ weeks since my last post, and it’s midnight, and I have to get up early to finish packing the my big trip this weekend.

I have lots to write about; it’s just hard to find the time. Please forgive my sloth, and I will try to do better in the future.

For now, I guess you’ll have to wait. Here, you can watch this YouTube video:

Old man skating

Midair Dan

I've been not landing tricks for a long time now.

I fell off my skateboard the other day. It was a similar fall to the one I sustained three years ago.

Back then, I was crossing the street, between buildings at work. I had two laptops tucked under my arm as I navigated the pebbles strewn about my path. Somehow I overlooked one of the rocks, and as the right-front wheel collided into it, the board skidded to a halt, sending me (and the precious computers) flying forward. Time slowed down. I twisted to the left in mid-air, to protect the laptops under my right arm, landing with heavy force on my left arm, the impact of which drove deep into the ribs on my left side.

It was agony.

The breath was knocked from my body, my vision was blurred from tears, and worst of all, my ego was shattered; some people had seen me! It was the cleaning crew, also crossing the street, though their wheeled device was far less dangerous. They were very nice and hurried over to offer me ayuda y agua. I refused. I was too embarrassed.

Eventually I was able to stand, and I gingerly limped to my office to lie down and hide from the world. My sacrifice was not in vain though; the laptops remained unscathed.

That was all over three years ago. Just three days ago I did something even stupider.

Exiting the main building, again at work, I was coasting down an access ramp near the loading dock. The ramp makes a sharp left followed by three short steps. For some unknown reason I decided to ollie down those stairs. This was stupid for a lot of reasons:

  1. I haven’t been riding lately hardly at all, much less doing any fancy tricks
  2. Because of the left turn, the approach is awkward
  3. My decision to perform the jump was made hastily, in mid-ride, so I was unprepared
  4. I just turned fucking 36 and who the hell do I think I am that I can still ollie down stairs???

At the base of the steps, once again my board stopped, and I kept going. This time at least there were no laptops to keep safe, so I was better able to cushion the fall. Also thankfully, there were no passersby to witness my tomfoolery.

But as before, it hurt like a mother-fucker, still does actually. Laughing, sneezing, and lying on my back are just some of the daily activities that now cause me great pain. And this is all following a nasty back spasm I suffered earlier in the summer when I thoughtlessly moved some heavy and bulky furniture by myself.

Whatever happened to age bringing wisdom? Where do I sign up for that?

Skater Dan

Portrait of the blogger as a young Dan