Category: San Francisco

Eight years

This post is a little late. I landed back in the proper end of the country in early June of 2005. But I’ve been busy. So here are some random reflections on spending the equivalent of two presidencies back east:

I have become a Harris Teeter person rather than a Food Lion person. Supermarket choice is a biggie for me, obviously. Maybe I’m just feeling more middle class. More likely, though, it’s the fact that since I eat much differently now than I used to–much less processed and frozen crap–I’ve found that HT is not really any more expensive, but it really is much more pleasant. For reference, though, I will never become a Whole Foods person. There is nothing pleasant–nor even remotely tolerable–about being inside a Whole Foods.

I don’t drink sweet tea anymore. Haven’t in a long time. That ended pretty quickly after my first year back east. I pretty much never go to Waffle House or Krispy Kreme either.

People still don’t quite know what to make of me when I speak. I don’t have quite enough twang to register as a local but still have enough to make people wonder. I say “freeway” instead of “highway” or “interstate” and I actually know how to pronounce “gyro.” That said, I often–but not always–still emphasize the first syllable of “insurance” and “Thaksgiving.”

I am not one bit more fond of children, sports (even college basketball), or religion than I was eight years ago. I may even be less so. I have, though, started caring about discovering music again, even if a sizable proportion of it is in a language I understand only un petit peu.

I really miss being able to visit LA with relative ease. Being able to visit New York and Tornoto with relative ease helps make up for this.

I have discovered that many of the things I thought i disliked about city life were actually things i disliked specifically about San Francisco. But I have also come to expect more out of a living space for a lower price, which will make it hard for me ever to return to an extremely urban environment. I may regret this but I’m not sure. Related: Now that I have a house that can be cleaned, I’ve realized I kind of like it that way. Given any option in the world, would this be my first choice of where to live? Probably not. But it’s perfectly acceptable and I’m not clawing my eyes out dying to leave like I was in SF eight years ago–or like i was here twenty-plus years ago.

I hope never to have a thirty-mile commute again. Having a real career for the first time in my life, however, is pretty danged nice.

I have by necessity rediscovered a big part of my individuality and my independence over the past few years. The various circumstances that led to this were not ideal, but I think the end result will be positive. The fact that I have reconnected with a lot of old friends is a big bonus as well.

Where will I be in June of 2021? I won’t make any predictions at all.

Le problème avec San Francisco

C’est ça…

The problem is not, mind you, that the either tenants or property owners were “victorious” so much as the fact that the battle is so contentious and the stakes are so high. Of course there are battles like this in other urban areas as well, but it’s always somewhat amplified in SF because of two factors: (1) rent control, which tends to artificially inflate rents on vacant properties and to artificially deflate rents on occupied ones, and (2) the “activist factor” in SF which tends to amplify pretty much every issue.

There’s other baggage there for me as well, but this is a major part of why I was so anxious to get out of SF eight years ago and why it often seemed so exhausting to live there. No matter how hard you work, your standard of living–or the residential component thereof–will only ever improve so much. On a reasonably good salary by most California standards, I would not currently be able to afford market rent even the dingy hovel I used to occupy South of Market.San Francisco unfortunately works well neither for homeowners nor for renters in this regard.

Granted, there’s much less demand for living spaces here in the heart of the Piedmont Triad for a variety of reasons but it sure does make life a lot simpler sometimes.

(Nod to Andréa Lindsay et Luc De Larochellière.)

Escape

Eight years ago this week, I was working furiously on my escape from San Francisco. It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since we filled up the pod, packed up the Toyota, and left the city like a couple of refugees. So much has happened since then. I’ve called one apartment and three different houses “home” on a variety of levels. I went back to school, got my Master’s, and started an entire new career. I’ve said goodbye to the three most important people in my life, although two of them are still around, if in a somewhat unrecognizable format. The Toyota went several years ago, replaced by a Buick that will be going away soon, too. I’ve reconnected with the East Coast, bonded with Pittsburgh, contemplated cohabiting with Canada, and have pretty much never looked back at San Francisco even for a second. Some rotten things have happened to me here (loss, depression, cancer…) but all in all, I’ve done pretty well on this end of the country and I know that I’m at the right longitude if maybe not yet at the optimal latitude.

Most of the time, geography is not really the cure-all we want it to be, but at two times in my life–when I moved to San Francisco and when I left–the change really was just what I needed. I don’t regret either move.

Randomly Tuesday night

Meriting a mention despite my avoidance of such things over the past week:

Randomly Friday night (Beach edition)

Random post-pizza thoughts on a freezing cold night at the beach:

  • It would be damned near impossible to get me to move back to San Francisco. This project excites me enough that I might think about it. For a few minutes.
  • Quick and glib analysis of the Hampton Roads area: The big military presence makes it feel simultaneously more cosmopolitan and less sophisticated than some other large Southern cities.
  • Norfolk proper seems a good bit livelier than it did four or five years back when I was here last. The Virginia Beach suburbs (as opposed to the oceanfront) and Portsmouth don’t.
  • I’ve lost lots of weight. The pizza tonight was OK, right?

Random thought I’ll write about later:

  • The parent-child relationship definitely reverses as the parents age. Everyone knows that. But for some of us, it also reverts and makes us feel behave like teenagers again, telling white lies and being generally sullen and resentful about things we shouldn’t have to do in middle age. Again, more on that in an upcoming rant.

US Tour 1997: Day 37

Fifteen years ago today:

On the final day, I make my way through the Central Valley from Bakersfield to Stockton, then over Altamont Pass, through the East Bay, across the Bay Bridge and back South of Market where I’d started more than a month before.

Original narrative.

The Ghost of October Past

I used to do these all the time but I haven’t recently. Tonight seems like a good night since I haven’t much of anything to say tonight that doesn’t revolve around (a) whininess about the fact that I’m not in Canada right now like I’m supposed to be, (b) misplaced resentment that’s making me feel a little guilty, or (c) new techniques in the avoidance of starch and sugar.

We’ve already established that October is my reflective month and that I’m not averse to reruns, so here’s early October through the years:

Canada, urbanism, etc.

Several years ago, shortly after my 2009 trip to Toronto and several months before I got my current position, Mark and I applied for Canadian residence. This is not a simple process; it consumes significant amounts of time and money and it takes forever. Mark did most of the work, but I participated as well, and when our number came up, I decided that I would not let the events of the past eighteen months or so spoil my chance to establish residency and make Canada a future option. To do so after all that effort and expense seemed a colossal waste. So that’s the “super secret” reason why I had to make a quick trip across the border last week. It was for purposes of “landing” as a Canadian immigrant. Which I have now successfully done.

Does this mean I’m moving to Canada? Probably not, at least for now. I basically have nearly three years to decide, and I imagine that my ultimate decision will be that my job prospects are insufficiently promising north of the border. Of course, if I don’t make reappointment next year (the first step toward tenure) my perspective may be somewhat different and I may find myself packing lots of warm clothes.

All things being equal and employment not being a factor, I think I’d enjoy living in Toronto. It’s a city that I love every much in a country that in many ways makes more sense than the U.S. Seven years after fleeing San Francisco, I’ve realized that I probably would enjoy a slightly more urban setting than the one I landed in. Sarah and I discussed this last week; she commented that her last few years in San Francisco turned her against urban living in general. I used to think that was the case for me too, but I’ve come to realize that it mainly just put me off ever wanting to live in San Francisco again.

But it helps to keep the following in mind:

  • I’ve never spent any time in Toronto in the winter. Or commuting.
  • I’m only willing to trade off so much quality of life in order to be there (read “I won’t live in a hovel”).
  • I have a very good and relatively secure job here that I love very much.

Honestly, I don’t dislike where I’m living right now although I’ll allow that it might not be my first choice if I were given carte blanche. I need to keep in mind that my depression has made me very much inclined toward escapism of late. Family issues are likely to make the next few years here rather unpleasant for me and that makes just about anyplace else seem appealing on some level. But I’ve got some personal stuff to deal with before a big geographic shift would be a wise move–assuming it ever would.

Anyhow, I’m not moving anytime soon, if ever. But the big bonus is that I can if I choose to. Which will give me some ammunition to shut up the whiny people who will be threatening to do so (but wouldn’t really ever even consider it) after the November election.

I’ll be damned…

Finally, after four years. My lingering and oft-expressed distaste for the actual streets of San Francisco notwithstanding, I’m still a very big fan of the TV version. In fact, I think it was one of the best cop shows ever. When it arrives, this might turn out to be the first actual DVD set I’ll have bought in more than a year.

Ewww…

While working on the refi, I discovered that my credit report suggests that I maintain a current address in San Francisco. Of course, the address is Mark’s, although I’m not 100% certain how it became associated with my name. Actually, his last two addresses are associated with my name.

Anyway, it’s becoming a bit of a task to get them eliminated. Experian states that one of them  “was provided by a creditor or public record” and won’t even let me begin the online dispute process, which will necessitate a phone call on Monday. It’s just a little nagging annoyance and it will eventually get straightened out, hopefully without screwing up the mortgage paperwork. I can deal with it.

What’s really offensive, though, is the insinuation that I would ever live in San Francisco again. Blecch…