Friday, August 29, 2008

San Francisco, terminus

I find myself rhapsodizing way too much about this trip to report objectively. Blogging about it after the fact creates a challenge, being afforded the chance to be both factual and eloquent. I will stick to the narrow path and leave out the parts about waking up Friday in Palo Alto surrounded by musical artifacts of classic San Francisco psychedelia, and getting a blister on my right foot from the Jeep's heater Thursday night (small price to pay for no speeding tickets and getting Patrick to San Fran safely!)

Patrick on the dark end of the street


Matt contemplating similar unification, days in the making!


We had a full day to go until our show, so what a better way to go than attending the Outside Lands festival! Teaming up with Jen and two of her friends, the six of us tackled major taxi and public transportation delays to attend.

Jen and Patrick, into the throng of humanity.

A major challenge of touring must be not blowing your take on other touring attractions/bands. This is the only picture that could come close to capturing my experience of seeing Radiohead in Golden Gate Park.

It was sublime. The lights, the sound (minus the second PA failure, the first one gave a great contrast!), the songs, the total audience freak out, the dad and two sons in front of us, the late teens next to us (one who proclaimed "this is better than a f'n rave!"), dear friends close, and others wandering the festival to be seen at some later point. (cell service was critically deficient)

This was taken through the front window of a furniture store, toward the El Alhambra Theater, home to gym currently. We joked about them "praying toward South Beach" as this is the only gym I have ever seen with minarets!

The show at the Parkside was ragged and great. We had witnessed Radiohead screw up and keep their game faces on, which inspired us to do the same. Here is Patrick with his!

Thee Parkside sits in Portrero Hill, east of downtown, and seems to have been through some gentrifying as of late, though the neighborhood has retained much of it's charm.

The array of friends and family in attendance was humbling. Nothing quite like seeing friendly faces after a week of space travel.

Pearl Bauer is a dear friend of Anne's, so therefore has become a good friend of mine. She and her husband Chris completely feed into our vagabond/wanderer tendencies (or as Anne is keen to point out, MINE). They operate on a life list that they constantly work toward checking experiences off their list. Years ago Pearl was to play tambourine in a band in New York, but it never worked out. Upon booking this show, I knew it was imperative to help her realize this dream. Chris had just checked skydiving from his list, so we invited Pearl up on stage to play the last song of our set (and tour) with us. Many thanks to Bartender Mary and Boom for being so accommodating, when in San Francisco, please visit Thee Parkside! Punk rock bathroom in full effect!!!

Laura in Russian Hill

Jen, at whose place we crashed (thank you!)

Patrick, Ms. Pac-Man (aka decompression tank for the road-weary)

Beginning this trip in an airline terminal just steps from where my sister and her family were embarking on their trip home; after a week of being with people near and dear, it was a little lonely watching fog eat San Francisco alive from SFO.

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