Coop's Corner: Great Distances

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Great Distances

Today pre-dawn I was listening to Mark-Almond's very sweet version of Mr. B. Joel's "New York State of Mind", remembering my time in busy Manhattan and moments later I received an email from the company that two years ago, I had reserved a shuttle with at the airport in San Francisco. Back then our daughter was flying from Cleveland to S.F. for an audition and wondered if I'd like to meet her in the City. I sorely needed a quick mid-winter break and decided that it would be fun to meet her out there for a weekend, even though I wasn't at all qualified to hold her music stand, let alone assist her in any way.

So, Manhattan to the opposite corner in a matter of minutes, a Great Distance indeed. Couple that with the recent gathering in the Bay Area by some of our Blog friends forced me, absolutely forced me, to go back and revisit our trip to the west coast almost exactly two years ago.

Hotel Whitcomb, near the Conservatory......

Two M/C Policemen standing out of the rain down by The Market. We talked, or rather I asked questions and they a bit reluctantly shared some City Riding tips. Our kids have reminded me that I sometimes look like a terrorist so that may have been part of the officer's unease.

Next morning it had snowed overnight, the hills across the bridge in Sausolito were white up top.

City Hall ( County offices?).....can't remember

An entire team of fish-cleaners....

A Honda Elite, just like the one I had....

Bashful daughter....

There was a preponderance of kayaks and swimmers ....

An In-and Out was absolutely mandatory....

Even Silver's and Gold's get hungry....

Some of the trolley cars were brought over from Italy....

Symphony Hall......

San Francisco Music Conservatory......she's in there somewhere warming-up.....

Oak Street and Van Ness.......

A truckload of chickens......

Golden Gate Park, this near the de Young Museum....

Highway 1, looking north to Golden Gate Park.....

This is that Big Bridge....

There was a Sherpa Guide walking around the chocolate shop.....

Walked up the hill (again) for dinner and was VERY ready for it as well as to sit down

Dinner on the top floor of the Mark Hopkins Continental Hotel. I didn't really belong there but I went anyway, the view overlooking the city everything Mark said it would be. Another trek back down the hill to Market St., enjoying the hustle and bustle under the city lights and then on to the Whitcomb Hotel for a rest.

A huge snowstorm in Minnesota and a closed MSP airport forced me to spend another very tough day in S.F. Daughter flew back to Cleveland, the next day I flew home via a 4 hour layover in Portland with Alaska Air.

Came home to this at the Park and Ride......

8 comments:

Erik RFebruary 3, 2013 at 5:49 PM
I've been to SF twice! Loved it! We toured the USS Pampinito submarine, walked the hills, rode the cable cars, shopped for chocolate.... Great fun. Thanks for the pictures.
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RichardMFebruary 3, 2013 at 6:57 PM
A nice collection of photos. I've been to SF maybe forty times over the years and have taken only a handful of pictures. I think I have no imagination....
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TrobairitzFebruary 4, 2013 at 8:25 AM
Thanks for another tour of SF.

We've been there only a handful of times and everything we've gone the Golden Gate has been shrouded in fog so we don't have any pics of it.

I am glad you had some sunshine after those rains too.

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UnknownFebruary 4, 2013 at 10:14 PM
Coop:

some of your photos have a familiar look to them, almost like I knew where you were. You even captures the Mojito (scooter), I like those. They don't sell them up here.

You had great weather and I don't notice many tourists.

bob
Riding the Wet Coast
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Coop a.k.a. CoopdwayFebruary 5, 2013 at 7:31 AM
Bob, I suffer from Early Morning, disease; it gets worse on the West Coast. I was out early in many of the photos plus my delayed flight had me touring the city on a Feb. Monday.....many people were being more productive than I that day.
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)