Mary Ann Moments

For Christmas, I had pulled off a gift-giving victory, finding and purchasing the first six "Tales of the City" novels on-line with nary a scribble in the margins. Mauricio was thrilled. Armistead Maupin, I assured him, provides the only introduction to local, literary allusions and his writing is marvelous and accessible for non-native English speakers.

His protagonist is Mary Ann Singleton, a plucky gal from Cleveland, Ohio who becomes mesmerized by Baghdad-by-the-Bay and moves there suddenly. Throughout the series, she has these "Mary Ann Moments;" San Francisco situations that shatter her sense of manners, reality and expectations. Mary Ann is tested, annoyed, delighted, creeped out and horrified. She finds a world that cannot be contained in any neat box and it frustrates her midlander sense of decorum.

Likewise, I've had a strange, San Francisco week in which I quoted the Joker with "This town needs an enema."

In no particular order, the following irksome things happened:

- Some homeless guy started yelling and threatening the #49 busdriver who had to pull over near the Mission/SOMA wasteland and call the cops. We were stranded there waiting for another bus to rescue us on a Friday evening. Nobody intervened. Next time, I promised to self, I'll act as a vigilante for Puritan behavior.

- Within five minutes, four dirty hippies solicited me with marijuana as a I passed the eastern entrance into Golden Gate Park. Really? I'm 33 years old and I cherish my clarity. And what if some nice family with kids want to enter the park here? Are you going to be scummy to them too?

- My dogs found the severed head of a goat in John McLaren Park. The other dogwalkers thought it might have been the result of something satanic that occurred over New Year's Eve. Come to find out that San Francisco International Airport actually employs herds of goats to graze on brambles and weeds that contribute to forest fires. Perhaps some coyotes got a hold of one of these unsuspecting hill climbers? Let's hope.





And more generally irksome...

- A thousand cuts in a culture of rudeness and blame. Does anybody take any responsibility in this town? Or say excuse me? I wonder sometimes if I'm becoming a colder and more conservative person here. In the place of civility and responsibility there's this virulent propagation of lawsuits at every turn.

- Facing the real possibility that I don't know if I'm gonna make it here. The twin talents of bonding with animals and relaying a juicy story may not be enough to even cover my groceries at Safeway. Dare I try Sacramento, California? Or Columbus, Ohio or Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania? This isn't Maupin's Libertine Oasis of the late 70's or Caen's Smooth Metropolis of the late 40's. It's a 2013 tech hive and you gotta show me the money.

- Feeling like a leper if I complain about stuff. I've always lived by the principle that it's okay to complain as long as you take action later. There have been some characters here who bottle stuff up only to have it come out ugly and sideways later.

*Sigh*

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On the sunnier side, nature once again lights the way to spiritual and emotional health. And I have no doubt that the breathtaking beauty of this city comforted Mary Ann Singleton with all her men problems. I've found out that San Francisco does have an autumn, it's just a muted version and this year it's arrived quite late. Check out these Maples in Clarendon Heights.






Instead of late bloomers, these specimens are late fallers, giving me the best lesson in patience and persistence. Mary Ann also knows something about synchronicity and today at the Haight-Ashbury branch of the SFPL I found a wonderful book called "The Trees of San Francisco," penned by Mike Sullivan, past president of the board of directors at "Friends of the Urban Forest." FUF goes around planting and maintaining city trees. In fact he points out one species here that I could not name.





It's the Ginko Billoba tree, also called Maidenhair. This small grove is on Eurkea and 20th in the Castro. Sullivan states that the Ginko is thought to be "the oldest surviving plant on Earth ... common worldwide during the time of the dinosaurs more than 200 million years ago." The only place they survive in the wild is a tiny section of Eastern China. They are extremely long-lived trees; there is one in Japan 1,200  years old. Ginkgos also fare well in city pollution and poor soil. If Ginkos can survive here, so can I.

Comments

  1. Please stay in San Francisco. (Wait, that didn't come out right.) You know what I mean. And besides, I am enjoying reading about your take on things there. Yes, blamers. I grew up in a house of blamers and it took about five Steps to start to rid me of that legacy. Lao Tzu warns us in the Tao Te Ching that "one you start blaming, the blaming never stops." Hard to accept, especially in a town as publicly minded as SFO. Easier to tolerate here in nasty Boston, a city of blamers. All best wishes from Eastern Standard Time.

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  2. Sandy, thank you so much for all your comments. Are we ever going to see you in San Francisco? I'd love to introduce you to Mauricio and some of my favorite haunts here. Please cross-promote your blog on Facebook so I'll remember to read. xo, tommy

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