Residents (mostly) misty-eyed with adoration for our city
It was another only-in-San Francisco day on Sunday as a friend and I played tourist, taking the rumbling, old-fashioned F-line streetcar up the Embarcadero to Pier 39 for a whale-watching trip.
Any boating venture on the bay is worthwhile, but this year there’s an abundance of humpback whales migrating north swimming under the Golden Gate Bridge for the same reason many people visit here: the food. Up to 15 whales have been spotted at a time — one who hangs out near Alcatraz has the nickname Al Capone.
Another day in San Francisco. Another reminder of why it’s such a special place and its residents among the luckiest in the world.
My column last week was
an ode to San Francisco, a list of reasons I love the city despite spending a lot of time pointing out what’s wrong with it. Among its obvious, frustrating problems are homelessness, used needles littering the dirty sidewalks and the insane cost of everything.
I asked readers to weigh in on why they still love the city, assuming they do. A small percentage said it’s over — too politically correct, too expensive and too dysfunctional. But the huge response was mostly very positive. It came from people ages 11 to 85.
Most agreed that the city is far from perfect, but they wouldn’t trade it for anywhere else in the world.
“I call San Francisco the bad boyfriend. Costs me too much money, isn’t very clean or tidy, does things that make me so angry sometimes,” said Barbara Wyeth, a writer who lives on Russian Hill. “Then I stop for a delicious macchiato at one of my neighborhood cafes on a brilliant morning with the foghorns fading as it brightens ... and, damn it, I’m in love again.”
I know the feeling. Other reasons San Francisco’s residents keep falling in love with the flawed city — again and again?
Many people cited the weather — specifically the fog. And even more specifically, the fact that our fog has a name: Karl. The mystery person behind the Twitter account @KarlTheFog once said he or she named the fog Karl after a character in the Tim Burton movie “Big Fish.” Hey, who knew?
It’s rare we get to feel superior during the summertime, but many recent days here have been a perfect 70 degrees while the rest of the Bay Area bakes. (Yes, it’s probably because of global warming, but you’ve got to take the good news where you can these days.)
“I’m too hot or cold anywhere else,” wrote Abby Meurk, a stay-athome mom who lives on Potrero Hill. “I love complaining if it’s over 80 or under 50 degrees.”
Artist Pamela Gerard agreed, writing, “No horrible heat and humidity. And no snow. Thank God.”
So on these lovely, temperate days, how do people spend their time? Readers described many things to do, places to eat and reasons to love their hometown.
The plethora of restaurants that serve pho. The dim sum at Yank Sing. The bars. Cafe Puccini. The farmers’ markets.
The Opera, the Symphony, the SFJazz Center. Free concerts at Stern Grove. The wave organ near Marina Green. The photography center at Pier 24. The de Young Museum, SFMOMA and the Asian Art Museum.
Golden Gate Park. Its windmill, archery range and bandshell. Precita Park. Glen Canyon Park. Lands End. Crissy Field and its Warming Hut. Swimming in the icy bay. Baker Beach. The ocean. The wild parrots that swoop among it all.
The libraries. Midnight Mass at Grace Cathedral. The walkability. Buying rainbow- and sparkle-covered clothing at the shop Love on Haight. Cliff ’s Variety in the Castro.
The diversity. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. The gay culture. The pot culture. The political protests. Or, as reader Steve Heilig put it, “I love San Francisco because it’s not everywhere else.”
San Francisco isn’t really a big city, but a distinct set of small towns. From the Castro to the Mission, from Pacific Heights to the Haight, they’re each memorable and beloved for very different reasons.
Amy Nachman, a consultant who lives in the Sunset, included North Beach on her list of San Francisco favorites.
“Spec’s Twelve Adler Museum Cafe, where I am told I have poetic hair,” she wrote. “Or a table upstairs at Vesuvio overlooking jazz down below in Kerouac Alley.”
In such a small city — geographically and by population — you can get to know all types of people.
“I have met every one of the mayors since Moscone, whereas in New York I’d be lucky to get within shouting distance of Gracie Mansion,” wrote Joshua Raoul Brody, a musician who lives in Bernal Heights.
Perhaps the most optimistic reader of all was Fernando Aguilar, who also lives in Bernal Heights. He said attending Giants games is still on his best-of-S.F. list — even this year.
“Now that they suck, it reminds me of the old Candlestick Days,” he wrote. “Tickets are cheap, park is half-full, no lines for anything and full of real baseball fans.”
Tim Goodrich wrote that he’s tried to leave over the years, but the city keeps pulling him back.
“There’s nowhere else to go,” he wrote. “I’m ship-wrecked.”
Fortunately, that wasn’t the fate of our whale-watching boat on Sunday. After about an hour watching several humpbacks swimming near the bridge, we headed back to the pier. The view was like a postcard flip-book come to life. The Palace of Fine Arts, Marina Green, Aquatic Park. The Transamerica Pyramid and Coit Tower standing behind.
As we disembarked, I knew that most of the passengers had to travel many miles — hundreds or thousands in some cases — to get home. Lucky for me, I was already there.