If you are looking to get in a fight, stabbed, mugged, shot, raped, killed, crack, pot, San Francisco's Tenderloin District can deliver. This is a shot of crackheads in a board meeting across from the Tenderloin Grocery on Turk and Fifth.
Ching-Ching and Hunter are two dangerous folks. I was hesitant about taking their pictures. "C" summed up their occupations as "Killa-Hustla-Pimps." I believe them. They never mentioned what neighborhood they came from but all the bad dudes show up in the T.L. at some point. They admitted that there are worst neighborhoods but none more infamous.
[The Tenderloin is a dangerous place to have a camera. So don't try it.]
I found a great neighborhood. My friend Yusei lives the. It's called the "Tenderloin." This photo was taken in front of the Tenderloin Grocery. I went in there to get a drink while I was trying to get a hold of my friend. When I walked in an undercover officer was busting a lady with about $400 in crack. I quickly discovered the neighborhood was thriving on drugs. I walked a few blocks south and stopped to use the bathroom at a Carl's Jr. Two dudes were trying to get high in the bathroom. I fought with one over our turn on the commode. He was brushing his teeth so I won out. It was terrible ... they both stopped brushing their teeth and scrambled seeking relief from the smell. The men were very seriously as I laughed my way out the door. I went back down to the Turk Street where I meet some dangerous people.
[We went to Hunan's Chinese Restaurant tonight. I have to go there every time I'm in the area. They serve the spiciest food available.]
This vintage trolley was built in 1929. It originally ran on the streets of Porto, Portugal. It is now part of the San Francisco Municipal Rail or MUNI. Today the car was part of the F-line that runs from 17th and Castro down Market to Fisherman's Wharf. "No Main Street in America has had rail service longer than San Francisco's Market Street," boasts a MUNI pamphlet I picked up on the car. I picked up this picture at 17th and Noe using a Sears tripod borrowed from my brother. Tonight we all ate homemade raviolis. There was no white flour in the house the night before when the raviolis were started so half of them were made with whole-wheat flour. Everyone said the whole-wheat variety wasn't bad at all. I took their word for it.
[My mom, sister, and niece are flying back to Florida tomorrow. I get a renewed familiarity every time I visit my family. When we part there is a painful feeling of wanting them to be there. If you get that feeling from your family you might consider yourself lucky.]
Today, New Year's Eve, I walked all over San Francisco. From Castro to Golden Gate Park down 14th St to the Embarcadero, nearly twice. The second walk was the most exciting. I didn't start it in time to see the fireworks. I saw their reflection off the buildings at the end of Market. I was walking straight into the enormous mass of people who were leaving the fireworks by the Bay Bridge. The mob walked straight down Market. People were setting off big, illegal fireworks in the streets. San Francisco's Finest was suited in riot gear. Teenagers were being detained by police all over the city. Teams of officers were running down the streets after perps. Fire trucks were blazing down the blocked off streets. Bottles were breaking all over. "Happy New Year," was shouted in a thousand different voices. Kids were fighting on the side walk. Cars were being pulled over. Trolley cables had to be fixed. The Wharf was cleaned by drones of street sweepers and men armed with brooms and pressure washers. Newspaper boxes had been smashed into cars. Girls were riding home in shopping carts instead of taxis. We danced. And now the city and me are tired.
[My New Year's resolution is to get better at taking pictures.]
I woke up in Oregon ready to escape the next wave of Nature's snowy wrath. After some careful arranging and leaving behind some large items, we were able to fit everything in the car. I practiced putting on the tire chains, just in case. We took one more joy ride through downtown Eugene before we hit I-5 South. The snow-covered land between Oregon and Redding, CA is some of the most beautiful I've ever saw. The highlight of the breathtaking drive was probably Mt. Shasta National Park. Mt. Shasta's elevation is 14,162 ft and one of the few places that rivals Yosemite.
[We stopped for a bite to eat in Yreka, CA at a little joint called Grandma's House. How could they do this?! They slandered Grandma with bad cooking and poor service. Then the bill came ... Grandma must be senile too.
We planned well in advance. The car was rented. Our bags where packed and ready to go. Snack food items for the long drive, check. The only thing we didn't do was consult the Weather Channel. If we had, we might have realized we planned to start our journey from Eugene to San Francisco in the middle of a snow storm. A blizzard that closed nearly 100 miles of Interstate 5 between the Oregon border and Mt. Shasta, California.
[Luckily we all have flexible schedules. We were able to enjoy the weather that I always imagined of Oregon. Of course our traveling group didn't mind staying for another day. I went sledding with my nephew and my sister. Built a snowman. Watched cynically as neighbors tried to make it up the hill in their small expensive cars. And of course, like every night, after dark we all gathered around the table for family games ... like Uno. (Our favorite!)]
Like much of my holiday, today was spent entirely with my family. When you don't see each other often enough it sure takes a long time to "catch up." In the morning we all gathered around my mom and talked. The conversation went from my 16-year-old niece's vague memories of playing in her backyard as a toddler to my mother recalling her early childhood, and growing up during WWII. I am the baby of the family by far, my closest sibling being 20 years older than me. I never even realized my mom was alive during WWII! One of her oddest wartime memories was created as a little girl in first grade. She said the students would line up in the school's hallway for rations of prunes and grapefruit juice.
[The holidays are always a great time for family games. Tonight we watched my 6-year-old nephew Hayden put on a magic show. Then we played Trivia Pursuit while Hayden kept insisting we play poker. We finally compromised with him and played a two-hour hand of Uno.]
The Shelley James' Music Box rocked Sam Bond's Garage in Eugene tonight with an outstanding collection of original material and 80s covers. Just when you thought it was safe to disregard the familiar radio plays of the 80s, the "music box" proves you wrong. The songs jolted me into halucinatory flashbacks of my early years in elementary school. This band impressed listeners with its skillful coordination and sharp, precise note making. For a small venue fan from the Mid-Atlantic my night out in Eugene was super ... thanks for asking.
[It has become a kind of tradition for me and my brother-in-law Brian to go see live music when I visit. Now that he is living in Eugene and not L.A. that tradition will also take on the sampling of local Oregon micro-brews.]
This is a Nutria at dusk near the Willimette River in Eugene, Oregon. I spent most of the day touring around town with my brother-in-law Brian and my nephew Hayden. We had a great time walking down by the Williamette River, eating cheap Mexican food, and shopping around for the best multi-purpose gloves. I found an outstanding pair of gloves that allow me full operation of my camera, like when I had to change lenses to shoot this Nutria before he moseyed through the tall grass down the river bank. I had one slight let-down today ... the Eugene Register-Guard terminated their internship program three years ago. I still enjoyed visiting what I did see of the facilities and my brief, pleasant conversation with Rob Romig, the Register-Guard's director of photography and graphics.
[Tomorrow we go to Eugene's weekly flea market. I'm betting there will be some interesting purchases made there considering half this town is retired hippies.]
This is my brother-in-law's traditional Christmas pudding. Well, actually it's the first time he's ever attempted to make it. I was eating bite by little bite thinking it was an old Welsh family recipe passed down from a long line of fog-walking tea drinkers ... but no. Even my niece Carol was cajoled into thinking he had been making it for years after a story he told about his mother's own Christmas pudding.
[Woke up this fine Christmas morning to a happy laughing family. We opened our eyes. We opened our presents. And, we opened the wrong presents. (Whoops!) I came here imagining that we would be fighting and miserable all stuck in the same house, all 10 of us. Come to think of it that doesn't sound like too many. But, this is the first time my Mom, my two sisters, my brother, and me have all been together in over ten years. I hope everyone feels as loved as the members of our family. Happy Holidays.]
We drove from San Francisco to Eugene, Oregon today. We had an ample amount of irritating stops at yokle diners. The weather was a lot better than we expected, a little rain. We left at about 10am from San Fran and arrived in Eugene at 10pm. Twelve hours in a car with my brother, sister-in-law, and my year-old nephew -- amazingly we all survived. The biggest pain-in-the-neck (literally) was trying to sleep in the sitting position.
[This is a sandwich I enjoyed off Interstate 5 in Williams, Ca. A lot of citizens in the upper half of California would like to seceed from the rest and become a seperate state. If they had their way it would be known as the state of "Jefferson." This seperation is something I can remember folks talking about in Orange County 20 years ago. It's a California myth, something that started as a wacky idea or rumor. Other examples -- earthquakes will cause California to break off into the Pacific, or that a state would actually elect a porn star as governer.]
