I did leave my heart in San Francisco. I finally know what Tony Bennett meant. I left it all over the bay area and even further north. A nephew was getting married which was why we were there. We stayed in a Walnut Creek hotel with other family members, for a few days, and on one of those days, my wife, daughter and I drove into San Francisco. We went down the crookedest street in the world, we glimpsed the Painted Ladies in the distance, walked on the Golden Gate Bridge, wandered through Chinatown and hiked the hilly streets of downtown. We walked to the base of the Transamerica building too. I had to see it up close. However much of an architectural novelty it is, it’s iconic and I’ve been transfixed with it since I was a teenager. My interest was reinforced when the Doobie Brothers used an image of it on their album cover, Livin’ on the Fault Line.
After a couple of hours, we got hungry, so my wife researched options for lunch. We were flexible, as long as it was tasty, nearby, and Chinese. The one she identified was House of Nanking. It had great reviews, off-street parking and served what we craved. After inhaling our meals, we relaxed with tea and fortune cookies. Afterwards, we drove north across the Golden Gate Bridge and parked near the end of it, then walked back onto the bridge to the halfway point with a lot of other people. I forgot the bridge was orange because its color is suddenly secondary to the overwhelming view in every direction. The force of the wind was significant and a bit unsettling at first, so I picked our daughter up in my arms. She had a better view too and when I did, the wind hit her face, so she squinted into it. The sea air seemed to soothe her. After half an hour, we walked back to the car and drove up the west side of the bay, across the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge, and south into Berkeley for sushi.
Two days later we drove north with other family members to Point Reyes and to the houses we rented in the woods. We had two that were next to each other, a hand built hot tub with a rustic changing area between them, and a few wind shaped Cypress trees that formed a natural room. The bigger house looked like one from the Handmade Houses: A Guide to the Woodbutcher's Art book. I imagined it being built by a young couple who’d escaped the city in the late 1960’s. The other house was smaller, simple and modest, like it had been built decades later to accommodate the overflow during family gatherings. While we were there, we spent time on a beach along Drakes Bay, visited the Tule Elk herds on Tomales Point, and roamed a few small towns for food and souvenirs. One mythic town we didn’t have time to visit was Bolinas. I often imagine because my wife has been there before with friends, Richard Brautigan lived there, and Anne Lamott writes about it. Our trip was like a lot of other trips we’ve taken. It’s dreamlike, a little hazy, and even surreal because at some point we suddenly jet out of it which doesn’t allow for a gentle transition. When the glow begins to fade weeks later, months if I’m lucky, I try hard to hold on and hope some of it will remain.
“You know what? I know what he means. It’s like a childhood memory thing.” From Don’t Look Up
Songs :: Stride of the Mind by Patti Smith, Sands of Time by Fleetwood Mac, I Left My Heart in San Francisco by Tony Bennett, and You’re Made That Way by The Doobie Brothers
© C. Davidson