IS THIS FRISCO?

Day 365 — Just Don’t

Beloved SF journalist, Herb Caen, said it loudly in his book of the same name:

It’s San Francisco because it was named after Saint Francis of Assisi. And because ‘Frisco’ is a nickname that reminds the city uncomfortably of the early, brawling, boisterous days of the Barbary coast and the cribs and sailors who were shanghaied. And because ‘Frisco’ shows disrespect for a city that is now big and proper and respectable. And because only tourists call it ‘Frisco,” anyway, and you don’t want to be taken for a tourist, do you?

“So don’t call it Frisco. Don’t ask me why. Just don’t.”

                                                       — Herb Caen, Don’t call it Frisco, 1953

However, Mr Caen himself recanted several times, most notably in 1993:

"Adolescence is believing that 'Frisco' is a racy nickname for a city; senility is automatically saying 'don't call it Frisco,' maturity is figuring it doesn't matter all that much ...”

Back in the day, every salty dog called it Frisco. It was an affectionate nickname. Jack London wrote about the "Frisco Kid," Woody Guthrie called it Frisco in his 1941 "Ballad of Harry Bridges."

"I am of Frisco ... the foghorns, the ocean, the hills, the sand dunes, the melancholy of the place. I love this city," William Saroyan wrote once.

I guess the only nicknames that are reasonably accepted by most folk are San Fran and SF (pronounced ess eff).

Day 364 — Auld Lang Syne

With only one day left to go, 2015 and this blog are coming to a close.

Day 363 — Far North Beverly Hills

Sea Cliff is the neighborhood where San Francisco stockpiles its wealthy and famous folk. They hole up in banks of magnificent mansions that line the cliff tops commanding sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean and Golden Gate Bridge.

Day 362 — Bi•Rite

Normally I shoot with a Nikon DSLR, but on this evening I only had my phone. The cropped panorama above has distorted the sidewalk and road, but I think it mimics the art deco feel of the signage. 

From the time it opened in 1940, Bi-Rite Market has been a Mission District institution.

Day 361 — Pied Piper

Commissioned in the aftermath of the 1906 earthquake and fire, “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” by Maxfield Parrish made its debut with the grand reopening of San Francisco’s Palace Hotel in 1909. The 16-foot-long painting is positioned prominently above the oak bar where it has been an enduring symbol of the city identity for over a century.

Coincidentally (I hope), San Francisco has the lowest percentage of children of any major city in the country. Only 13.4 percent of the city's approximately 800,000 residents are under the age of 18.

The number of kids in San Francisco has gradually declined since the 1960s, when they made up a full quarter of the population.

Day 360 — South Park

A visit to South Park immediately tells you something much grander was once here, such are the outstanding bones of its foundations. South Park Street runs in an oval around a grassy park. The area is bounded by Second, Third, Bryant, and Brannan streets.

Originally constructed in 1855 as the center of an exclusive residential community, it featured the first paved streets and sidewalks in San Francisco. 

The neighborhood began to lose exclusivity after the construction of Second Street, which made the area accessible to less affluent residents. Rich residents moved to the newer Nob Hill neighborhood in the late 19th century, and the city took over the park in 1897. 

After the 1906 earthquake and fire the neighborhood was rebuilt as warehouses, light manufacturing, nightclubs, and hotels. Immigrants from various countries came to the neighborhood, as well as longshoremen, drug addicts, and vagrants. The neighborhood began to attract artists and young professionals beginning in the 1970s.

The area flourished once again during the dot-com boom of the late 1990s. 

Day 359 — Ascenseur pour l'échafaud

I saw the 1958 movie Ascenseur pour l'échafaud (Elevator to the Gallows) on TV in the 70s. It stuck with me because the soundtrack was none other than Miles Davis. It was director, Louis Malle’s first feature film and starred Jeanne Moreau. I was able to get a CD of the soundtrack in the 80s and it has remained one of my chief desert island discs ever since.

This is a shot of the subway elevator on Market Street at Powell Station, photographed two days before Christmas. It transports weary holiday shoppers, to and from their BART or MUNI train below street level. Beside the elevator shaft is a homeless man using his upended wheelchair as a pillow. He sleeps soundly amid the clamor in the warmth of the afternoon sun. 

Day 358 — Time and Tide

With the highest highs come the lowest lows. I took this photo yesterday about six hours after the King Tide “high” that morning. A rocky beach emerged between Fire Station 35 and Pier 24 Photography.

King tides occur 2–3 times a year between November and January when all the influencing factors combine to form “the perfect storm of tides”. First, the earth is as close as it can be to the sun (perihelion). Second, the earth, sun and moon are in alignment (in the position of a spring tide). A King Tide can occur at either a full or a new moon. But it will be one of either! King tide conditions usually persist for three or four days, when the earth, moon, and sun are closest to being in alignment.

Day 357 — New Skyline

The area comprising Rincon Hill was originally a sandy peninsula forming the southern shoreline of Yerba Buena Cove. The peninsula terminated at Rincon Point, near Harrison and Spear streets, from which Rincon Hill derives its name. Rincón is Spanish for “corner”, and the point formed the southern corner of the cove.

Recent construction on Rincon Hill has dramatically altered the San Francisco skyline with towers rising at 399 Fremont St., 340 Fremont St., 333 Fremont St., 45 Lansing St., and 201 Spear St.

A total of 2,127 luxury housing units have been recently completed, or are near completion on the hill.

Day 356 — Rhopalostylis Sapida

I visited the Botanical Gardens in Golden Gate Park for the first time last week and discovered something new. Wandering about its 55 acres of greenery, I came across an exquisite grove of stoutly palms beside a tranquil lagoon.

Rhopalostylis sapida is more commonly known by its Māori name Nīkau and is the only palm native to mainland New Zealand. It is found on the North Island, in coastal areas of the South Island as far south as Banks Peninsula, and on the Chatham Islands. It has the southernmost range of any palm genus. 

The palm produces purple flowers in spring that are followed by brilliant-red berries which hang from just below the base of the leaves that turn to seeds and are a food source for wildlife.

The Gardens charge $8 entry for adults and free for residents of San Francisco. 

Folks from out of town can visit free: 

Day 355 — Advertising Stamina

Day 354 — Camera Obscura

Camera obscuras have a long history in San Francisco. The first recorded reference to one is from the 1860s in an attraction called Woodward’s Gardens. The second was at Cliff House, built in 1896, which had a camera obscura on its fourth floor that was destroyed when the building burned down in 1907.

The current Camera Obscura, known as the Giant Camera, is the last remaining structure of the world famous Playland. A rotating lens mounted in the roof projects a 360 degree image down onto a 6 foot parabolic focusing table.

The exterior of the building was extensively modified in 1957 to look like an actual camera, however the internal workings of the camera obscura have remained unchanged since construction in 1946.

Day 353 — Emotional Service

San Francisco is often touted as having more dogs than human residents under 18 — for goodness sake, my neighborhood is called Dogpatch. 

On a recent visit to San Francisco my mother was shocked to see dogs in a Safeway, by way of “emotional service dog” status no doubt. Everything from an iguana to a chicken has been called a service animal in this city.

Day 352 — Camino de las Manos

Cueva de las Manos is a cave located in an isolated area in southern Argentina. It takes its name (Cave of the Hands) from the many stenciled outlines of human hands. The paintings are thought to have been created between 13,000 and 9,500 years ago.

Day 351 — Japanese Internment

I have lived in San Francisco for over 20 years, but yesterday was my first visit to the Japanese Tea Gardens in Golden Gate Park, sidled up beside the De Young Museum. Though exquisitely beautiful and much larger in scale than I had imagined, it’s history (outlined below), carries a dark turn of events.

From their website:

Originally created as a “Japanese Village” exhibit for the 1894 California Midwinter International Exposition, the site originally spanned about one acre and showcased a Japanese style garden.  When the fair closed, Japanese landscape architect Makoto Hagiwara and superintendent John McLaren reached a gentleman’s agreement, allowing Mr. Hagiwara to create and maintain a permanent Japanese style garden as a gift for posterity.  He became caretaker of the property, pouring all of his personal wealth, passion, and creative talents into creating a garden of utmost perfection.  Mr. Hagiwara expanded the garden to its current size of approximately 5 acres where he and his family lived for many years until 1942 when they, along with approximately 120,000 Japanese Americans, were forced to evacuate their homes and move into internment camps.  When the war was over, the Hagiwara family was not allowed to return to their home at the tea garden and in subsequent years, many Hagiwara family treasures were removed and new additions were made.

Day 350 — Feral Rat King

An elaborate homeless encampment beneath the 280 Freeway at the end of Islais Creek. I wrote about this camp back in March when I noticed that there were homeless living inside the freeway. 

Day 349 — The Audacity of Hope

Let’s hope the El Niño-like drenching of last weekend continues throughout the winter and bring lots of snow to the snowpack.