Archive for the ‘Tid Bits’ Category
In anticipation of Valentine’s Day, Leah Garchik of the Chronicle compiled a fun collection of “Overheard in SF” statements related to love, dating, and, uh . . . sleeping around. Here’s one that was heard on Polk:
He’s not my boyfriend. He was just a one-night stand for the three past nights. — (Woman on her way to dinner on Polk Street)
For who knows how long, the block Filbert Street between Leavenworth and Hyde has been heralded as one of the city’s two steepest streets, tied with 22nd between Church and Vicksburg at a 31.5% grade.
Teetering over the edge of hill, looking out at Coit Tower, most would not venture to dispute this claim. But blogger Weather Sealed hopped in his coach and took San Francisco’s steep hills for a test drive. In conclusion, he found that preeminent block of Filbert to have the fourth steepest grade, with Prentiss between Chapman and Powhattan taking the cake at a 37% grade. “Thank you so much for this opportunity,” said Filbert, with an air kiss.
It bugs me how the weak economy has become the go-to explanation for declining sales (and increasing appetites) of every kind. Think outside of the bank, dude.That said, let’s look at these year over year statistics for the sales of single family homes in San Francisco. District 8 includes the North Waterfront, Russian Hill, North Beach, Telegraph Hill, Nob Hill, the Financial District, Downtown, Civic Center, and the T.L. Compared to nine other districts, which had anywhere from two to 54 sales this September, District 8 is the only one that saw literally zero sales — a figure which has been declining since ’04. Obviously (obvi), no one wants to leave these fabulous neighborhoods: their proximity to Polk Street is just too valuable to give up! Am I right or am I right?
Local blogger Flaneur + City recently wrote a cute, heartfelt ode to the neighborhood, “Reasons I Love Russian Hill.” Here’s an excerpt:
The chinese lady hurrying along with a pink plastic bag of steamed buns, the overly preened sartorialist with a handlebar mustache, the wizened old man meeting up with his buddies for the WSJ & daily coffee, the 7th year grad students with their noses burried in coffee-stained notes, the shopkeeper gazing out at the doorway waving hello to the regulars.
Read the rest here. What makes you heart Russian Hill?
The colors of cantaloupe, peach, and plum, the sky was beautiful tonight in San Francisco. The blinds to my neighbor’s windows were open and the apartment was empty; he has been evicted. Ahh, city life.
The last time I rode my bike in the city I was cruising down a harmless, empty, flat street (I know, hard to find) when all of a sudden, squeaky breaks ensued and I literally flipped over the handle bars, landing with my foot practically caught between the wheel spokes. That day was last November. It was not something you could brush off and move on from. Though no one was around to see it, I still bear the embarrassment of that moment. My breaks have yet to be fixed.
But when I do get back in the saddle again (oh I will), I know where I’m going. (more…)
The SF Department of Public Works has finally repaired a treacherously chipped set of concrete stairs (see a before photo here) and a wall on Broadway St. at Taylor. I would say, “It’s about time,” but on second thought, it’s a luxury that our city’s steep hills even have stairs. You know . . . in like other parts of the world people have to roll down the hills.
As promised, I did make it to the 45th Annual Big Book Sale at Fort Mason last weekend, and hobbled out of the pavilion with a dozen novels and a book about local architecture for only $15. But in addition to my reading material, I also bought 10 records for a buck each. Styx, the Police, New Orleans’ Dirty Dozen Brass Band, and Bonnie Raitt, to name a few. The catch? I don’t own a turntable. Oops! (No, I did not buy Styx for the large full color poster inside!)
I’ve done a preliminary eBay search for a used one, but I’m not sold on anything just yet. The thing is, though, I’m kicking myself for not buying one at a garage sale I stumbled upon in the neighborhood last month. A record player has been on my wish list for sometime, but now with ten records looming in my apartment, the race is on. Until then, I guess the crowd at Encore Karaoke will have to suffer through me singing “Something to Talk About” to help fill the void. If anyone has any leads on an affordable record player in the ‘hood, let me know!
As it turns out, I’m not the only one being wooed into the Polk Street La Boulange (2310 Polk St. at Green) by that scintillating curio of pastries. A pigeon named Phyllis made herself at home last week in the spacious loft-style windows above the bakery’s entry, and refused to be shooed. Phyllis became such a personality in the café that La Boulange introduced pigeon menu specials via its Twitter account. She was finally detained and released in Golden Gate Park. But, it wasn’t long before another warm-blooded winged vertebrate took up tenancy. Rumor has it his name is Bob Vance.