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Showing posts with label earthquakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label earthquakes. Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2009

Little tremors

you feel that way sometimes

I wasn't even going to write a post today (it's Monday, and there's a stressful vibey thing going through the office... more closed door meetings, ugh) and then a little rolling tremble rumbled under our feet.

We're so tired or blah or whatever that we all look at each other and say, Was that an earthquake? (We're on the 9th floor.)

Or was that a truck?

Whatever.

It did end up being a earthquake south of here, rolling all the way up to the city and under our Aeron chairs, but maybe we needed a little jolt today.

***

Last night I went out tango dancing for a while but the jolt I needed there was missing so I left early. Another off vibe but that's just how it is sometimes.

The wise man says "No Trespassing."

Since it was almost dusk, I decided to catch some last shots in Chinatown before heading home. It's such a different place when the tourists are gone and the shops are closed.


Got some interesting photos of lights and lanterns.

And as the new moon rose over Chinatown last night, a perfect thin sliver of white, I couldn't help but notice how thinly divided we are in this city.

The building immediately in front, with the fire escapes, is a typical aging Chinatown storefront, selling cheap bric-a-brac, the same stuff sold in every touristy shop up and down Grant Street. The building behind it is the back of the Ritz-Carleton Hotel, one of the most expensive hotels in the city.

As I'm taking this photo, a little voice says behind me, good morning, help.

She is wrinkled, with a face like an apple doll and hunched over a cane. I can hardly make out her English. Good morning, help.

Then she says, I'm hungry. That I understand.

I had a dollar in my coat pocket. That's all I had but at least I know in Chinatown she can get something to eat for a dollar.

***

Some days I do get weary here. Don't get me wrong. This place isn't a postcard. It's like Kathryn described in her piece in i live here: SF. I can see what happens here. But there's enough beauty to make it worthwhile.

Thanks to Kathryn's blog, I found this wonderful video: "San Francisco" by Jill Sobule. I think I've watched this at least ten times already. It makes me misty eyed. This song makes me realize why I live here and love it even when I'm weary.



She shuts the door behind me, waits for me to get undressed
She ask if I need water, I can barely understand her
I think she asked me what I do and I said that I'm a singer
She laughs and claps her hands
And then she begins
And she sings:

"I like to go to San Francisco
I like to go
Put flowers in my hair
I like to go to San Francisco
I like to meet
Some people there"

She looks just like a sparrow, but she's strong just like a wrestler
She kneads and pulls and climbs on top
It hurts, but I will try to take it
Ask her if she's ever been
Been to San Francisco
She tells me that she can't leave
They won't let her leave
She sings:

"I like to go to San Francisco
I like to go
Put flowers in my hair
I like to go to San Francisco
I like to meet
Some people there"

And in Golden Gate Park
[ Jill Sobule Lyrics are found on www.songlyrics.com ]
She'll throw a Frisbee
She'll bring a dog
And she'll meet a boy
And they'll fall in love
And she'll feel so free
Still walk on his back

Wonder 'bout the place I'm in and how they treat the girls
I know that it's legitimate
But still it makes me wonder
She gets up to leave
And I put back on my clothes
I tip her well, she bows to me
I really hope one day she gets to go

"...To San Francisco
I like to go
Put flowers in my hair
I like to go to San Francisco
I like to meet
Some people there" (Some people there)

La la la la la la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la la la la la la la
La la la la
La la la la
La la

Friday, July 20, 2007

Rock the Casbah, 4:42 a.m.

Not to sound blasé about earthquakes, but at 4:42 a.m., you're just too tired to get out of bed and stand in the doorway. I know I'm supposed to be prepared for these things, but unless the earthquake happens during business hours, I'll be lucky if I remember where I put my shoes.

Since the only casualty this time was the storefront window of a doughnut shop in Oakland, I guess we're all fine... for now.

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/07/20/BAquake.DTL&tsp=1