I think I was growing (shudder) a bit accustomed to this bizarro “city.” The quirkiness of the public transportation system, the boldness of the homeless people and the freakish weather systems  had all slowly worn away at my resolve.

New York had slipped back into my memory as a distant place where “people were always in a rush” or “didn’t understand the quality of life we have here”.

I had foolishly convinced myself that fleece everyday wasn’t really that bad a fashion statement and that it was totally normal for a California town to drop down to 50-degrees for the entire summer. Yes, the entire summer.

And if it wasn’t for a recent experience I may have remained trapped in my Matrix-like brainwashed cloud forever…

I needed to take a taxi today.

I even used a fancy app on my iPhone to summon the taxi (everyone in San Francisco is now required to carry an iPhone).  The taxi didn’t show. No big deal I thought in my cheerfully brainwashed San Francisco state-of-mind, I’ll just head outside and flag one down…

As I stood on the corner for 45-minutes trying in vain to have a taxi stop for me – alternating between futile attempts to wave down a empty cab and trying to raise a taxi service on the phone, I coincidently found this in my pocket:

I post on my BLOG!

A card from months ago. Evidently a relic from my last successful ride in a San Francisco taxicab. Here, staring me in the face, was the answer. The pledge that a taxi company would “answer the phone.”

That’s their motto.  This company dedicated 25% of the real estate on their business card to proudly pronounce their major competitive advantage, their distinct differentiation between all other taxi companies in the San Francisco Bay Area…

They “answer the PHONE!”

That’s like a baker pronouncing “We bake our BREAD!” Or a car wash announcing “We’ll clean your CAR!”

Those things shouldn’t be CAPITALIZED. They shouldn’t need to be called out at all. They should just be done! It’s not normal for a taxi company to need to promote that they “answer the phone.”

And with that, I once again saw this “city” with clear eyes. Like suddenly remembering a strange dream it all rushed back to me. This place is not normal at all. No my friends, San Francisco is Weird.

Sorry that I was gone for a bit. But I’m back now…

To address the nagging question that’s on everyone’s mind, San Francisco is Weird is thrilled to announce our newest feature: Fog View. A new toolbar option displaying daily(ish) photos from our deck looking north towards Sutro Tower (a really big radio tower on a hill near the center of the “city”).

As long as I’m here / remember, I’ll snap a photo up the hill so our readers throughout the world can get a sense of the current(ish) fog conditions. And remember, even if it doesn’t look foggy at the moment the photo was taken, just like California’s governor…it will be back.

September 24, 2009 - 9:03am

Allow me to introduce:

One Street to Rule Them All

At the actual and symbolic beginning of Market Street, resting comfortably on the North-East corner of the peninsula, is San Francisco’s much loved Ferry Building, a large, nicely renovated, well…ferry building. The Ferry Building is home to a variety of high-end shops, restaurants and fall-over-yourself famous Farmer’s Market (Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday). Notable tenants include super-fancy Vietnamese restaurant Slanted Door, super-fancy oyster farmers Hog Island Oysters amd super fancy coffee brewers Blue Bottle Coffee.

Warning: often overrun with tourons, I suggest not going between the hours of when-they-open and when-they-close.

Following Market Street south-by-south-west-ish, leads you to on a fantastical journey: The first neighborhood you’ll come to is the Financial District. This is where a handful of professionals gather very early every morning so they can be on the same time zone as the rest of the world.

Next you’ll come to Union Square (no relationship to New York’s real Union Square), a shopper’s mecca where you can momentarily feel like you’re in a miniature version of a normal American city. There’s super-cute versions of pretty much every store your heart desires, including a little Apple Store, a tiny Barneys, a teacup Bloomingdale’s and many more!

After a brief respite into the depths of micro-consumerism, Market Street plunges into the Tenderloin, a neighborhood (if it deserves that distinction) that both frightens and fascinates. Drug addicts shoot heroin, smoke crack with impunity and relieve themselves on the streets while San Franciscans and visitors alike traipse through the beleaguered alleys in search of the  theaters and live music venues peppering the area.

After you escape from the Tenderloin you’ll find yourself in the Civic Center - basically an extension of the Tenderloin but with large civic buildings, opera and ballet houses replacing the tenements, theaters and music venues. A bit further on leads you through a nondescript no-mans-land before Market Street joyously enters the Castro: a 24-hours-a-day / 7-days-a-week / 365-days per year gay pride celebration! The Castro makes Chelsea look like the upper-west-side and the Christoper Street shops seem like a conservative Pottery Barn.

The Castro is also the Nepal of Market Street, the last bastion of civilization and decent weather before the street simultaneously rockets skyward and abandons all linear characteristics. At the corners of 17th and Castro, Market Street meanders up into the foothills of Twin Peaks before it disappears completely into the fog…

A fitting end to one of the world’s weirdest streets.

Next week I’ll be posting about attempting to navigate on and around Market Street. Until then, please…be careful.

The Other (White) Bridge

Similar to the international celebrity status of New York’s Brooklyn Bridge, San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge gets all the press around here. And while the famous red bridge is certainly good looking (at least for the six days a year it’s not completely shrouded in fog), there’s another span that deserves some recognition of its own: The Bay Bridge.

Equally tall and eight times longer than the Golden Gate Bridge, The Bay Bridge connects the “city” of San Francisco to the hamlets of Oakland and Berkeley (imagine the illegitimate love-child of Brooklyn, Queens and New Jersey).

I’m fascinated by the Bay Bridge for a few reasons:

1) It makes a pit-stop in a half-natural / half-man-made island called either Yerba Buena and/or Treasure Island. People may or may not live on this island, but there’s a marina, a few barracks of some sort and often a music and arts festival destination. Its  Governors, Randall’s and Roosevelt Islands all rolled into one, with a cyborg T-101-esque archipelago tossed-in for good measure. Loves it.

Half Island / Half Machine

2) The upper deck COLLAPSED in the 1989 earthquake. Coming from the east coast, earthquakes terrify me. The roadway was subsequently fixed and re-opened a few years later, but engineers realized that it really needed a massive seismic upgrade. However, the “city” could only afford half the work, so they’re now in the process of rebuilding only the eastern span. The western span should be fine though, right? Right???

My terror about this fact is compounded because:

3) It’s hella long! Including the spans, the bridge is 8.5 miles long! Once you get on it you drive, and drive, and drive…just waiting for the shaking and swaying to start at anytime! Not cool.

4) It’s free (no toll) if you cross in a car pool of three or more people…adorable!

5) Probably due to its lack of international notoriety and difficulty reaching the center span (there’s currently no pedestrian walkway) there are only a fraction of suicides on the Bay Bridge compared to its industry leading Golden sister around the bend. However, with the planned addition of a pedestrian pathway on the newly constructed eastern span fans are hoping the Bay Bridge can someday make the big leagues!

Wait for it...

Every foreign village has it’s own strange and incomprehensible customs, and San Francisco is no exception. One of the oddest, and most troubling for visiting New Yorkers are the rituals surrounding crossing the streets. Notably, that everyone here:

A) Waits for the light

B) Uses the crosswalks*

It’s truly a fascinating behavior to witness: A group of San Franciscans approach an intersection. They can see clearly for miles in both directions, and there’s not a car in sight. Hell, it may even be a part of town where there are no cars! But if the little man on the sign is red they WILL NOT CROSS THE STREET! They won’t even take a couple of steps into the road in preparation of crossing!?!?!

And when they do cross, they’ll always use the crosswalk! If you’re in the middle of a San Franciscan block and are in need of visiting a store directly across the street from you, you can’t just launch yourself into the street like a real-world game of Frogger. Oh, no…you are expected to walk to the corner, cross the street (with the light, of course) and then trek all the way back down the block. And yes, it could add minutes to your shopping day!

A Note for Drivers

The odd pedestrian customs effect your life too. Cars are expected to yield (AKA give the right-of-way) to pedestrians. San Francisco has turned the New York driving rule on its head, instead of pedestrians mustering the agility of ninjas to deftly avoid careening taxis, busses and perpetually agressive commuters, here drivers must avoid hitting pedestrians! It’s even a law!

Like intentionally bowling gutter balls or dining at a brightly lit restaurant, it just doesn’t make any sense and takes a while to get used to.

Good luck.

*Note for New Yorkers: “Crosswalks” are lines (typically white) painted on the streets near intersections.

Ye Fogge!

The third day of August, two-thousand-and-nine in the year of our lord.

Five-hundred-and-forty-six-days since I have been deposited on this strange land. While I have been documenting my encounters with the local inhabitants and their odd customs since my arrival, I have shamefully, and consciously, avoided mentioning one particular unsettling detail. Night after sleepless night I have attempted to put quill to parchment to warn ye, faithful reader, about the darkest and most treacherous symptom of this far flung “city,” but fear, confusion and a bitter chill hath kept my hand frustratingly at bay.

That is until this morn, when I could no longer bear yet another potential summer day callously plunged into darkness and cold! I have closed the shutters, latched the doors and hardened my resolve to share with you San Francisco’s darkest episode: The Fog.

Most days, The Fog creeps over hillsides and descends over the town, blanketing the “city” in thick, cold and windy haze. It inexplicably comes from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Children may be joyously playing outside. Birds might be singing their joyous songs. But then the shrieks of maidens silence all as our eyes turn upward and spy the first wisps wafting over the surrounding peaks.  After a few minutes, a massive, 100 foot tall, impenetrable wall steadily gallops on, trampling warmth and joy in its path.

Be warned! It’s often very foggy here, especially in the mornings. It may burn off in the afternoon (as the locals claim), but it may not. And even if it does. It will be back…

Those are gross understatements.

This “city” is teaming with giant, steep and incredibly treacherous hills! And the crazy part is, everyone here goes about their day as if it’s completely normal to park your car on a 23% grade or hike-up the equivalent of the Appalachian Mountains to fetch a cup of  coffee!

So Steep, they added stairs!

San Franciscans have adopted a series of intricate guidelines, rituals and even laws that help them adapt to the terrifyingly vertical landscape. Here a a few to keep in mind:

1) Navigate in Three Dimensions

Oops!

In San Francisco, it’s not sufficient to know your way along a standard X-Y axis. Here you always need to consider the Z access before you set out on any journey. Otherwise, a simple trip to the tattoo parlor could strand you on the top of a freezing cold windy peak or at the base of an impenetrable cliff!

The good news is, there are a few well documented Hill Avoidance Routes (HAR’s), like The Wiggle, which effortlessly brings bike-riding hipsters between The Mission and Golden Gate Park.

2) Parking

Curb your wheels...

Evidently, from time-to-time, parking brakes fail and cars have been known to careen down the aforementioned steep hills of San Francisco, subsequently smashing into buildings, other cars and people. This is not a good thing.

So the “city” of San Francisco has a strictly enforced, and easy to remember, “curb-your-wheels” law: If you’re parked on the right side of the street, facing up a hill, turn your tires to the left and set the emergency break (or use the easy to remember abbreviation: RSFUHTTLSEB). If you’re parked on the left side, facing down a hill, you’ll of course turn your ties to the left (or LSFDHTTLSEB).

3) Views

Actual view from an actual hill

OK, so once you get to the top of hill there’s often a really nice view. That is if you survive the hike, or your bike has incredibly low gears or your car recently got its clutch replaced.

Good luck!

Still substantially cooler than rollerblading

There’s a long standing debate in San Francisco about the coolness of various self-propelled rolling devices. The “city” is split among many different factions (without rancor of course, this is San Francisco) about which device is truly the coolest.

Over the last few months I have infiltrated the semi-courteous debates among tattooed,  pierced  and skinny-jeaned hipsters and I am proud to announce that SFIW has uncovered not only what the coolest SPRD is, but for the first time ever, an official, sanctioned, top-10 raking!

The Official SFIW

Top Ten Self Propelled Rolling Devices

1. Skateboard
2. Kid’s Sneakers with Built-In Wheels
3. Bicycle – Fixed Gear (no fly wheel)
4. Bicycle – Single Gear (with lame fly wheel)
5. Long Board
6. Roller Skates
7. Bicycle (with super lame gears and brakes)
8. Scooters
9. Parrot / Thigh Powered Stand-Up Roller Thing
10. Rollerblades

Yes Bay Area zoologists, there are squirrels over the bridge in Oakland, but there are none in the city of San Francisco. For the love of all things holy, the enormous Golden Gate Park is even home to a herd of buffalo (also true) but not a single squirrel!!!!

That’s just weird.

No squirrels in San Francisco...

But plenty of buffalo!

As everyone in New York (and, um, the rest of the world???) knows, if approached by a panhandler you simply avoid eye contact, ignore the request and keep moving.

Simple.

Hell, it doesn’t even need to be someone asking for money…directions? Help? The time? Endangered child? Escaped tiger? It’s all the same:

1. Avoid eye contact
2. Ignore
3. Keep moving

Manhattan school children learn the mantra right along with stop, drop and roll. It’s just second nature.

Which is why your first few encounters with panhandlers (and there will be many) in San Francisco may be incredibly unsettling. Panhandlers in San Francisco are accustomed to (a) people being nice and (b) having the right to do whatever they want – including asking you for money.

So the normal tactics don’t work here because panhandlers simply think you didn’t hear them. They’ll raise their voice, follow you down the street and even (shudder) touch you! Yes, panhandlers here will actually touch you to get your attention if you ignore them. And unlike Giuliani/Bloomberg’s New York where homeless people are put to death for even blocking the path of the gainfully employed / showered citizen, it’s evidently not against the law for panhandlers in San Francisco to gently touch you.

But don’t fear, after many months I have devised an innovative and foolproof (albeit counterintuitive) method for avoiding the harassment of panhandlers in San Francisco. When asked for money, pause, look the assailant in the eye and say “sorry dude.”
I know it sounds crazy, but it works:

1. Pause
2. Eye contact
3. “Sorry dude”

The panhandler will shrug and walk on. It’s seriously like magic and it will blow your mind.

Good luck.