Guitars at Cafe Du Nord

With a bit of quiet here at CatSynth over the next few days, I can finally catch up on the many reviews and other articles waiting in the queue. And the show at Cafe du Nord a week ago is one I definitely wanted to review, as it falls in the “I’m really glad I went” category.

First, it was the main new-music show I could find the Monday after July 4. It was just a coincidence that it was the “night of guitars,” so to speak. But an impressive array of guitar talent, with Nels Cline, Jeff Parker and Jim Campilongo. Musically, I was more interested the Scott Amendola Band, which included Cline and Parker. They moved back and forth being grooves and more free-form pieces, which for me is a good mix for “club music.” The Campilongo Electric Trio was a bit more conventional, with more of a jazz and country feel in some pieces. But Campilongo did come out to play with the Scott Amendola Band as well. Yes, three virtuosic guitarists all at once.

I also ran into some folks I had recently met at Blue Six. We had talked quite a bit about making music, but didn’t exchange contact info. Quite the coincidence to run into them again so soon at Cafe du Nord. This time we made sure to stay in touch afterwards…

Pride 2008

Today was big Pride Parade here in San Francisco. And with the recent marriage ruling here in California, it was an even bigger celebration than previous years.

Of course, Zip was there for the festivities:

The parade is on Market Street, our main thoroughfare, which has been adorned with flags and other symbols for weeks in anticipation:


[Click to enlarge]

The parade is of course full of colorful characters:

Marriage was of course a major theme this year, with many couples displaying “Just Married” banners to thunderous applause.

This BART vehicle was decked out for trips to the chapel:

But with good fun there is also seriousness. We all need to be vigilant and make sure that our friends’ new-found rights are not taken away this November:

It is a not an issue of LGBT rights versus religion. Indeed, faith and religious groups were an important part of this year’s parade:

However, when this group from the “San Francisco Voice for Israel” marched by, it seemed like the crowds were strangely quiet.

I was actually invited last year to march with this group, after talking to a gay supporter of Israel while attending a birthday for a “nice Jewish girl” I was romantically interested in…but that is a story for another time.

Many city agencies were represented in the parade, including Animal Services, who had some amusing banners:

In all, a proud day for San Francisco and for California. And with the continued wildfires and other problems, we need something to celebrate.


In the shadow of the bridge

When nothing else is happening on a quiet weekend afternoon, I will often go for a walk through our neighborhood, South of Market (SOMA) and South Beach. Our neighborhood is in many ways more like New York than the rest of San Francisco, with its old industrial buildings, dilapidated piers on the waterfront, and new condo developments. But perhaps that adds to the sense of familiarity, and of “home”, amidst the concrete.

Our walk usually begins on Townsend Street, heading east towards the waterfront. This area is dominated by AT&T Park, home of the San Francisco Giants. But while crowds head towards the stadium in the summer, we often head in the opposite direction. There is a little park at the end of Townsend along the Embarcadero, where I often see older Eastern European folks. Across the park is the cul-de-sac that marks the end of Delancy Street, a name reminiscent of the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Here I often stop at a small cafe – it has a large garden that can be enjoyed on its own or for the glimpses of the bay it affords.

There are some books I only seem to read when I’m out at places like this, rather than at home. One such book is The Cat: A Tale of Feminine Redemption. I will stop and read a chapter while enjoying a coffee and the views. Though sometimes I opt for one of our free weekly papers instead. I like the idea of being contrary, reading esoteric books while a major sporting event is going on nearby. But in a large, cosmopolitan city, there are always people doing their own thing. One is never really alone.

Beyond the cafe is the southern portion of the Embarcadero, which contains glimpses of a seedy and crumbling past while being revitalized with the stadium and frenzied development.

Heading south along the Embarcadero, one approaches the Bay Bridge. Commercial buildings, as well as residential complexes, have sprung up in its shadow. I enjoy seeing these buildings fit comfortably beneath the bridge:

Some of them have appear older, more reminiscent of the 1970s or even earlier, while huge new high rises are going up all around them.

I then often turn back inward from the waterfront on Bryant Street. This is generally a wide street that crosses SOMA and the Mission District, but here it is a narrow alley between the steep approaches to the Bay Bridge and a residential block.

Again, the feeling is more of a residential section of New York, perhaps Riverdale in the Bronx, or the Upper West Side. Of course, the fact that this block interests Delancy Street adds to this impression.

Longtime residents and admirers of San Francisco often look down upon this area, but I find it a comforting place to walk and explore. Certainly, there is familiarity coming from New York, which has always defined “city” for me. And perhaps the sense that I am finally living the city life that I should have done long ago – I am finally home.

The narrow streets and tall buildings abut the hill and the approach to the bridge, with a complex array of staircases and ramps. I often find an excuse to climb at least one, such as this that connects the lower alley section of Bryant Street to the main section that begins on top of the hill.

At the top, one is amazingly close to the freeway and byzantine ramps that feed onto the bridge:

Heading back down the hill towards the west, one can take a detour through South Park, which has nothing to do with the popular cartoon. Instead, it is a small park surrounded by two-story residences that feels more like a neighborhood in Brooklyn. Although it is not far from the this section of freeway we featured a few weeks ago, such things seem invisible and far away. But step outside this oasis, and one is back in the “concrete jungle” and the streets that lead home.



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