Here and There

Ugh, don’t get me started on the SFfuckingPD. Last night, we decided pretty late in the evening to head over to Berkeley to stay at Tara’s place. I-80 was a construction nightmare. I won’t go into the astoundingly inept detour signage, but I do want to comment on what we both remarked at the time was an utterly ridiculous situation.

At various points in the off-the-highway route through SOMA, we noticed a surplus of SFPD police officers. At first, I was astounded that they’d be used at all, but then I remembered it’s probably a matter of jurisdiction (as in, at a certain point at the base of the offramp or somewhere, CalTrans’s authority ends and the local police’s begins). Fine, but why so many officers? The vast majority of them were literally standing there talking to one another. This was around 11:30 p.m., and we talked about how they could’ve been out patrolling, for example, the Mission, where surely there were muggings, shootings, possibly rapes and murders going down right in the streets.

Lo and behold, we got to Berkeley and found this story about a shooting in the Mission that killed one person and injured three. It happened sometime before 11:07, which is when the story was published.

Now, I realize the police can’t be everywhere all the time, but the fact is that a strong police presence deters crime. I never realized it more until I visited Buenos Aires last year. It was comforting to see so many uniformed officers out in the streets. I even asked one for directions at one point.

What was the force thinking having so many uniformed officers in SOMA last night, or any night for that matter? Who’s running things down there? Ugh.

Early this morning, a friend sent a link to DailyKos. It was a story about how Ralph “More than a day late and several million dollars short” Nader has chosen a running mate — none other than former San Francisco Board of Supervisors President and one-time Mayoral Candidate Matt Gonzalez.

When I opened the link, I thought, Thank God.

You see, at this point, I’m hoping for this whole campaign to unravel into sheer entertainment. Because we’ve had nearly eight years of cynicism and incompetence, the more folly surrounding a candidate as qualified and inspiring and able to bring about a new form of politics as Barack Obama is, the better. I never expected Nader really to be able to do much this time around. As another friend pointed out, Nader’s returns this time will be even more diminished than they were in 2004, which were a piss in the pot compared with 2000.

I worked with the Gonzalez for Mayor campaign here in SF in 2003. It was the first time I had ever been involved in politics, and it was exciting, to say the least. Back then, I and almost everyone I knew supported the relative upstart, the underdog, that Gonzalez was. He represented a new way to get things done, a fresh take on old problems that had been stuck in the mud since time immemorial. He ended up losing against the anointed successor to a popular mayor. You may have heard of Gavin Newsom by now. He eked out a 52-48 victory over a grassroots campaign in a city were money equals power.

Fast-forward to late 2007/early 2008. A eerie similarity exists between the level and style of support for Barack Obama. The difference is, we’re talking about the presidency. I don’t see any particular reason Matt Gonzalez is prepared or qualified to be president or vice president (ditto for Nader, but that’s another post). Thus, I’m forced to sit back and watch the circus come to town. Or, perhaps, by its very nature, the circus will never leave this town …

My name is Tara, and I’ll be your guest blogger this afternoon. I beat out hordes of competitors for this gig by being almost as eloquent, yet about as indignant, as Here and There, of which I’ve been a fan for a while, now. Cheers, HaT, and thanks for the soapbox.

We are gathered here today thanks to this story on SF Gate. This time, SF City Hall is patting itself on the back over the so-called “Connected Bus” in its Muni arsenal. A vehicle that, once you finally board it 15 minutes late, allows you to connect to the internet and download music, porn, or whatever your pleasure is as you commute home. There is so much wrong with this idea, and here’s why.

1. $10,000-shmousand
This SuperBus apparently costs in the neighborhood of $10,000. I don’t care if it cost $10. Don’t hold news conferences to show off your urban transportation prowess if you can’t devote significant funding and time to fixing Muni’s problems, the most basic and largest one of them being on-time performance.

2. All that said, Muni is broke. According to this Feb. 15 SF Gate story:

“The San Francisco Municipal Railway has a ridership of nearly 700,000 a day, but has been unable to deliver the level of service that city voters demanded in 1999 when they required 85 percent on-time performance - a milestone that’s never been achieved. To make significant improvements, agency officials say they need between $100 million and $150 million more a year. That’s in addition to the agency’s annual operating budget of $687 million.”

If that means raising the cost of a monthly FastPass to $60 — something I am willing to pay, since governments run on taxes and fees, after all — so be it. However, even that increase would be a drop in the bucket, amounting to roughly $18 million per year. Raising the single-ride fare to $2 from $1.50 would bring in another $13 million to $14.8 million per year. They could maybe go for a voter-approved bond or tax increase if that option gains enough support. Or, maybe they could divert funding away from fancy-sounding staff positions in City Hall in order to aid the transportation system — something residents, tourists- and bridge-and-tunnelers alike use in some capacity every single day.

3. I’ve never seen anyone with a laptop on a Muni, unless it was the underground light-rail that goes right through downtown. Even rich urban people tend not to ride the bus, since, from a socio-economic standpoint, it’s still more of a lower-class thing to do in a city. These people, the ones with laptops and PDAs, won’t start doing riding the bus unless they’re on time, more frequent and become more comfortable.

Socio-economics aside, given the slippery seats, the constant vigilance in an attempt to stay unstabbed or unrobbed and the sometime raucous atmosphere, this is a horrible place to get any work or internetting done. Maybe, I don’t know, devoting money first to upgrading these mobile blight carriages would encourage more people, rich and poor, to ride them, cut down on unruly passengers, and make the drivers less pissed-off.

4. Luddite?
Before you tell me to untwist my granny panties, let me just say: I love the internet. I get anxious if I’m disconnected at home or at work, I actually do have a laptop (two, actually, if you count my work machine), and I’m upset that citywide wifi, and the resulting plethora of free access to information and services, isn’t more of a priority. Muni and access to wifi are both problems that need to be addressed, but smashing the two together and calling it progress sounds analogous to polishing a turd.

He’s got a point. Still, it’s theory, whereas his practice as mayor of New York City was, at least, questionable.

Something I already knew, but not to the degree which I know it now.

That is, that the good people of San Francisco harbor an unparalleled hatred for parking enforcement officers (aka, DPT).

I learned this because I dressed up as one of their vehicles and my lovely companion was one of them, bike helmet, cheesy sunglasses, chalk stick, and all.

I was verbally abused the minute I set foot outside my place. A lot of it was faux contempt, but some I wonder about. Most striking was the many children who spewed hateful comments like, “I HATE YOU!” or, “YOU SUCK!!!” I felt I had to reassure some people that I was not real, or, if that didn’t work, that i was the only nice DPT in town.

Maybe that’s a way the Bush Administration could get pacific San Franciscans on board with this grandiose megalomaniacal so-called war on terror: tell them the U.S. is fighting meter maids.

Craig Newmark touches on San Francisco’s relatively new 311 hotline service, which I used over the holiday weekend to ask about street cleaning schedules this week, and found immensely useful. The best part: It’s a phone bank, but answered by human beings, and relatively quickly.

Love it when government works.

A lot of people are already upset about the so-called cancelation of Halloween in San Francisco, announced first months ago when officials decided to unsanction the annual event in the Castro and move it to the parking lot of the local baseball stadium.

Today, those same officials declared the event dead.

I don’t know. Halloween in SF, meaning getting dressed up and attending a free-for-all public drinking outdoor event was enjoyable for me, oh, the first year I moved here. True, I am somewhat crowd averse, but it wasn’t that. Costumed people are, typically, much better to be around than everyday-dressed people.

But once I heard how many people attend the event (upwards of 300,000), and performed the simple logic that told me most of said crowd isn’t even from SF, on top of the violence and general lameness that mars the event, I decided a party with people I know, or even friends of friends, was much preferred.

Some may see a connection with a recent crackdown on other outdoor, alcohol’d events in the city. But when violence comes to mark any regularly held event, action is necessary. People are abusing a privilege.

In other words, I won’t be shedding any tears over the “loss” of Halloween. I’m more anxious to see what people do costume-wise to mock the whole thing. Is a Bevan Dufty costume in the works?

Out of pure spite, I decided not to attend today’s one-hour “blessing” of the new San Francisco Federal Building. I had tried twice in the past, only to be either mislead or have attitude flung at me by people who are, essentially, my employees (true, they’re also self-employed).

Those who did see the building’s interior feel free to comment. I plan on going after presumed crowds have died down.

Back in June, I went over to see San Francisco’s new federal building, at Mission and Seventh streets. I was under the false impression that the latest architectural monolith to join the SF skyline was then open to the public. After talking to security on opposite ends of the building that day, I was told with utmost certainty that the building would open to the public July 7.

So I went back yesterday.

My roommate said to me on the way out the door, “Are you sure it’s opening today?” Hmm, I thought, maybe not a bad idea to check. My companion agreed. I couldn’t find anything on the building’s opening. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. We had business downtown anyway, so on we went.

Upon arrival, we went to the same main door where I was told that yesterday was the day. One set of doors had a piece of paper taped haphazardly to it announcing PLEASE USE OTHER DOOR. But there were two other doors. I noted quickly there were no security guards right inside. What appeared to be an employee walked into the leftmost doors, and we followed him.

As he was about to turn a corner, he turned around and shot a very disapproving glance at us. Not seeing security, we had stopped in our tracks. I don’t recall if he said outloud or just looked a “Can I help you?” at us. I replied, “Is the building open to the public today?” “No,” he said, condescendingly. “Do you guys have badges?” “Oh, no, we don’t. I was here last month and was told July 7 was the day it opened.” “Who told you that?” he responded, all incredulously and indignant. Jeez, I thought, what crawled in his government ass and died?

“Oh, the security guy that was right here,” I said, gesturing toward the security station, with it’s treadmill x-ray scan machines and metal detectors. “No, that’s not true, you can’t come in here. It’s a federal building.” No shit, really?

“Oh, well, do you know when it will open?” I asked, determined to prove that his paranoia was unwarranted.

He muttered something about August or late July, and his front was broken. He had no idea what he was talking about.

Today, I found this article by the Chronicle’s John King on the building’s dedication tomorrow and opening to the public Tuesday.

I hope you’re reading this, Mr. Confident and wrong federal employee. Don’t make me say it … I pay your check, asshole.

I seriously had to do a double take when I read this story today, about the Vatican’s new rules for how God wants us to drive our cars.

I’ve watched it being built, and drooled with envy. I’ve been one of those San Francisco residents who, upon the structure’s completion, wondered whether the construction was still under way. I’ve got into jocular spats about the beauty/shortcomings/simplicity/god-awfulness of the building. I’ve come to see it as one potential iteration of the future of architecture, based solely on its aesthetics.

But after visiting the structure just other day and taking some photos of the exterior (the building won’t be open to the public until July 7). I needed more. Also, I was deployed by a friend (yes, a nay-sayer) to find out why the federal building is what it is. She was faux indignant.

So I started poking around. The architect’s website … not too helpful.

From the Pritzker Prize website:

the project has developed around three primary objectives: to create a new urban touchstone for San Francisco that serves and enhances the community; to radically redefine the culture of the workplace and provide a model environment with respect to health, productivity and creativity; and to establish a new benchmark for building design through the intelligent use of natural resources.

And this:

Following from a critical reinvention of traditional office planning, open work areas are located at the building perimeter and private offices and conference spaces at the center cores. Corner offices have been eliminated, radically inverting traditional hierarchies and democratizing access to operable windows, natural lighting and ventilation. Views to the city are afforded from 90% of the workstations.

So there you have it. There is rhyme to the reason. I’ll have to report back once I am able to view the interior, and do hope to get more information on why the outside looks exactly like it does, other than mere frivolity.

I’ve never really had a big problem with pigeons. The debate abounds, everywhere. Every city I’ve lived in, I’ve run into people who can’t stand the sight of the animals, dead, alive, or in fecal form.

But recently, the anti-pigeon netting on my house went out, and a group of the creatures has begun to nest up on a ledge about 10 feet above my door. First I noticed the area just outside the door covered in their poop. Then it went away.

Now it’s back with a vengeance.

But …

The reason for this post has as much to do with my dietary habits as it does the degradation of my domicile.

I tend to get into ruts with what I eat. For the last few months, I’ve had two chicken tacos from the same taquería just about every day. For dinner, I’m on a streak of turkey sandwiches from the same deli near work.

Lately, though, with the pigeon infestation, and consequent repulsive smell just outside my house, I’ve had to swear off all forms of poultry. I’ve just got too strong an associative mind. I eat chicken, and no matter how well-asada’d, I taste pigeon. Ditto the turkey sandwiches.

It’s a sad story. I’ll keep you all posted on my reintroduction to poultry. Until then, it’s vegetarian burritos and tuna sandwiches (on light rye, of course).

It’s not every day that I feel like saying that. I am always proud of the work I do there, copyediting news and business stories. But on a day like yesterday, I’m proud of where I work.

On Thursday, The Examiner ran a story detailing how the efforts of three peace advocacy groups to ban the Blue Angels from their annual flyover shows in San Francisco found voice in one of our politicians, Supervisor Chris Daly.

In Friday’s edition (which I worked on last night, of course), we ran this follow-up story. It contains the following gem of a quote in the second paragraph:

“Because of you, I haven’t gotten any work done today, and because of you, I am not going to introduce [the resolution calling for the ban] on Tuesday.”

People, possibly some like me, who spend the days in cafes and parks. As you all know, I have a full-time job. It’s just that I keep odd hours. What’s their excuse?

Utter hilariousness that touches on why you can’t get a decent burrito in NYC (has a direct relation to why a cheap, decent slice of pizza is impossible to come by in SF).