on the east side of the bay there's a crazy town where i lived for the summer of '98. evidence of the craziness can be found walking down telegraph ave or in your very own kitchen.
and the whole place is filled with flowers. they sprout from gutted parking meters, the hands of sidewalk vendors, gardens overflow onto the sidewalk as if they intend to slowly take over that strip of land from the Jack London waterfront to the hills.
techies in the mist
up in the hills there are paths that twist thru vegetation comparable to a small rainforest, except for the ecalyptus. driving the roads on grizzly peak is crazy in itself and wonderful. the tall sequoias give you that ewok kinda feel. if the mists are still rolling up the western slope then things get quite surreal, like there's a lot out there, but all you need to know is in about a twenty foot radius around you.
there are places where the city is spread out infront of you, and it's pretty peaceful.
down on the streets it's a city of patchwork, little pieces of different times and kinds of people, all on a floor of cracked pavement, spilled wine, breadcrumbs and fallen eucalyptus leaves.
i've been here before, lived with chuck for a week or two in oakland. i slept on the futon couch and woke up in a room basked in california sun, lazed around all day listening to npr and reading. it was the only place i settled other than the archeology field school. i spent the rest of that summer in other places on the west coast, or driving across the country or thru canada. it was an amazing time.
the summer of 98 i once again spent away from home, in a little pad with wayne, chuck, and cherie. for what we were paying it wasn't bad - a kitchen to cook in with cabinets in all the primary colors, couches inside and out, places to put all the candles, with futons to rest up and a line to hook the modem to. on the roof sits a forgotten loveseat and coffee table, with a view to the bay and sun sun sun when it's out. a few blocks to a safeway for two gallons of milk, a few more chez panisse (training grounds of master chefs and home of the $70 fixed-menu), and not too far from so much good, fairly cheap food to keep hedonists like us happy.