Category: Urban

Seattle

Breakfast was at a place called The Aurora (on Aurora Avenue, oddly enough). It was a great place: a former Sambo’s, with pretty much all its original decor as intact as it was about 1963. I was excited.

 

We had pancakes, cigarettes, and videotape for breakfast. All was well.

 

 

We drove around Seattle a bit, seeing the famous Hat and Boots, the University District (including its Safeway, of course), and more. I think we were both pretty obsessed with Seattle by this point, although I’d pretty much seen it coming and wasn’t surprised. Aside from a slightly lower sales tax rate (offset by the lack of state income tax) and a few restaurants I’d miss, I’m still not convinced that there’s anything much I like more about san Francisco.

In other words, yes, I’d move in a heartbeat if I had a job…

 

In the afternoon, we met up with Mark’s friend Andrea in Kent, and took a tour of the more southern parts od Highway 99, toward Tacoma. It was a good drive, and it was great to meet Andrea. I only worry that I came across a bit like a heroin addict between the growing sniffles and the antihistamine I took against doctor’s orders. And if either of you can offer better pictures of yourselves than the crappy ones I got, please send them along…

We went through Tacoma and across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge (a newer version, not this one) and then circled back for dinner. Mmmm. Burger is good…

 

I think it was on the way back to the Motel 6 that we decided to stay another night. This decided, we went back out into the night to see more…

 

We hit Pioneer Square to see if the Underground Tour would be an option on Friday (it would) and made the rounds again. Have I mentioned yet how much more fun this trip was than my last attempt at Seattle?

Seattle

  

Exploring Seattle was something I’d been itching to do again since I was ten years old and saw my first wino ever on a street corner in Pioneer Square. This trip, I actually got the chance. Today was reserved largely for downtown and the Seattle Center, home of the Space Needle which was celebrating its 40th anniversary this month. Yes, we ate up there, and yes, I sampled the special 1962 menu for $19.62.

I also noticed that the Pacific Science Center (a former pavillion from the 1962 Worlds Fair) bore a disturbing resemblance to the former World Trade Center.

 

The food was good (despite what we’d been told) and the view was, of course, amazing, and neither of us seemed particularly embarrassed to be a tourist.

 

After doing the needle, we got on the monorail and headed downtown. Interestingly, after forty years, Seattle may be on the verge of actually expanding the monorail to something more than a mile-long run between two places only tourists ever want to go. We’ll see.

 

Once downtown, we walked through Pike Place Market (where I had good luck at finding four dollar books) and saw the original Starbuck’s (no comments please). I realized that my allergies were kicking in bigtime and began talking like Brenda Vaccaro to stay in character.

 

 

We met up with Cho in Capital Hill about 8:00 and proceded to dinner at a good Thai place which probably had a name, but I don’t remember it. We also toured the neighborhood, visited some really cool bar (with a name I also can’t remember, but it had something to do with “bad juju”) and posed with the Jimmy Hendrix statue. I also blew my nose a lot, which was no doubt becoming increasingly annoying to all who came in contact with me.

 

Liked Cho. Liked the view from her fire escape. Opted against visiting the nearby bathhouse…

Afterward, we went on another long and semi-aimless drive through the streets of Seattle in search of neon signs, motels, diners, and maybe beer…

 

Portland to Seattle

 

We bypassed the drive-in in favor of the Bomber Restaurant. A little history: the bomber in the parking lot used to act as the canopy for a fairly famous (among roadside history buffs) gas station. Now the restaurant remains, serving cheap and damned good food in a friendly sort of way, all to the accompaniment of 1940s pop standards.

 

After breakfast, we drov through downtown again and made our way upto the Pittock Mansion, where you’ll find a mildly entertaining house overlooking some of the best views in Portland.

 

Cities with active volcanoes overlooking them are always picturesque, if a little nerve-wracking. And I also like cities with actual vegetation, although my allergies don’t always agree. That allergy thing would come back to haunt me.

 

It was time to leave Portland now, since a one-week trip only allows so much time in any one place. We crossed our final bridges, stopped at Waddle’s and Safeway just before the Columbia River, and were on our way still farther north. Oregon thanked us on the way out.

 

Crossing the Columbia River, we escaped personal income tax and those weird speed limit signs which read “Speed 50”. We gained a really high sales tax, really expensive cigarettes, and self-serve gas.

 

Portland to Seattle is a pretty quick drive, actually, but along the way we were treated to a couple of active volcanoes, one very pastoral nuclear power plant, and the Tacoma Dome. Well, there was that gaggle of skate rats at the ARCO station in Kelso too, but I didn’t even steal a glance. Really.

 

Upon seeing Mt. Ranier, we knew we were pretty much there. A few more miles and we found our Motel 6 in scenic Sea-Tac. It really was; we had a view of Seattle’s favorite volcano right from the window of our room. We christened said room by taking care of one minor emergency and then set off into the night in search of food.

 

As might be expected, we found it on old Highway 99, which is known as Aurora Avenue north of Seattle. Cheap pizza, spaghetti, and beer in a smoke-filled environment. Who could ask for more? After dinner, we sampled the neon of Aurora Avenue and one chain drugstore…

 

 

Aurora Avenue. Home to enough neon motels, old diners, and supermarkets to give me a permanent stiffy. We went up and down this stretch of what used to be US 99 many times. Pictures were taken with reckless abandon.

 

We never quite made it to the Elephant Car Wash for the purpose it was intended to serve.

 

We found neon in Green Lake, neon in Wallingford, neon downtown, and neon in the university District.

 

And we headed home by way of downtown. Where we took pictures of each other under some of the most famous neon around.

 

Portland

 

Portland. Everyone’s idea of the perfectly-planned city. And by and large, it is. A dense, thriving downtown surrounded by a compact, thoroughly pleasant city. Good transit, water and bridges, hills, and more. And there are an infinite number of not terribly expensive short-term parking spaces downtown. It works well, and it hasn’t been overplanned to the point of looking like a theme park.

 

We hit downtown relatively early so as to allow plenty of time for exploring the central city and Powell’s City of Books, which is an absolute essential and may be the single most compelling reason to visit Portland. It provided several hours of entertainment and caused Mark to paart with quite a bit of money. I spent less, but was still quite entertained.

 

We roamed around downtown for quite a while, ate lunch, and made the rush hour drive back to Tigard via old US99W. This was about the point we started noticing that Portland’s suburbs have an unusually high number of adult bookstore chains. And that 99W (aka Barbur Boulevard) was going to be an interesting drive at night, what with all the neon to be seen.

 

And we were right. We spent a good chunk of the evening driving around Portland at night, looking for views in the hills, looking for beer at the QFC, and taking pictures of neon signs. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves on the next page.

 

The Burlingame Fred Meyer is a wonderful thing. Fred Meyer is an interesting Portland institution to begin with: as one of the first large suburban retailers in the area, they demonstrated an uncanny knack for knowing where development would occur and being there to meet it. They were innovative stores as well, combining general merchandise and groceries, and introducing such things as rooftop parking, etc.

 

Hollywood, where I bedded down last time I visited, is always worth a look.

 

As is Sandy Boulevard (US 30) in general. The area around Lloyd Center, Portland’s first shopping center outside downtown, and the convention center would be more interesting if anything looked much like it did when first constructed.

 

After the tour of Portland by night, we took the long way home via old US 99E (aka McLaughlin Boulevard), through scenic Milwaukie, and found the place where we’d be having our morning meal.

Cities, Continued

Rest well, Dr. Scholl…

In response to a request for elaboration about yesterday’s list of cities I might like (or hate) to live in, I’ll offer the following bits of info on what I do or don’t like in a city. And if some of this sounds familiar, that’s because it is, but I don’t think the original essay is posted anymore…

I like cities with a distinct urban “feel’, but this is a subjective thing. Some people think “urban” means Times Square in New York or Union Square in SF, but I’m more inclined to give that designation to ares like the Outer Mission or Brooklyn. I like a little grit and a certain reality. I don’t do tourist traps nor malls…

I also like cities to have texture. By texture, I’m not referring to successive waves of gentrification which have turned interesting working class neighborhoods into cutesy little boutique zones. Texture refers to a mix of building ages and types. It means things like diners and hardware stores rather than shops selling nothing but ironic greeting cards…

I don’t like places which, like so much of the sunbelt, appear to be nothing but stucco and plastic, all of it seemingly erected last week. I’m not fond of “upscale” places, nor of large and visible “gay neighborhoods”. These places tend to be exceedingly boring and bland and superficial, and full of similarly boring and bland and superficial people I don’t want to share the sidewalk with…

I like places with enough of a literate and collegiate presence to support good bookstores and good, cheap restaurants, but without that annoying and overpowering “college town” syndrome. That’s also why I tend to like bigger cities; they can absorb a large university presence without being overwhelmed by it…

I like places where transit is a viable option, but not the only one. I’d like not to have to drive, but I’d also like to be able to do so when I feel like it. I like some density, but not so much that it makes completing the simplest task a nightmarish challenge…

I am completely unconcerned with being around a large “gay community”, nor do I care much about “cultural opportunities” like the opera, the ballet, etc. I judge a city based on its good and cheap restaurants rather than its four-star “fine dining” experiences. I want a five dollar meal, not a five dollar cup of coffee. And I’m more worried about having an easily-accessible Target or Wal-Mart than a Macy’s or a Bloomie’s…

And when I get bored with the city I’m in, I’d like there to be lots more within easy driving distance…

Hope that begins to clear it all up…

Find A City

Major US cities I’d most like to live in if family, climate, and economy were not factors:

  • Chicago

  • Baltimore
  • Boston
  • Seattle
  • Portland
  • Detroit
  • Pittsburgh

Major US cities I’d probably consider living in given the right set of inducements:

  • Los Angeles
  • Minneapolis
  • Atlanta
  • Washington
  • Richmond
  • Denver
  • Kansas City
  • New York
  • Philadelphia

Major US cities I can’t imagine ever wanting to live in:

  • Phoenix (or anyplace in Arizona)
  • Miami (or anyplace in Florida)
  • San Diego
  • Houston (or anyplace in Texas)
  • Salt Lake City (or anyplace in Utah)
  • Norfolk – Virginia Beach
  • Albuquerque (or anyplace in New Mexico)
  • Oklahoma City (or anyplace in Oklahoma)
  • Nashville
  • Las Vegas (or anyplace in Nevada)

Urban Blah

Some days I have a morning like I had today, and I get to thinking that for half a dollar, I’d move out of San Francisco tomorrow. Maybe I’m just getting old and cranky, but being a resident of a large, urban area seems less and less worth the effort with each passing year…

it’s more pronounced since I’ve been spending so much time in the relative sanity of the Central Valley the last few months, but it’s been building for quite a while. There’s just not much here which excites me enough to compensate for the fact that living in a crowded, compact place like San Francisco is a bit of a pain in the ass…

I crave the ability to park within a block of my house. And to actually HAVE a house, rather than to pay rent which would cover a nice mortgage anyplace else. I fantasize about not having to stand in long lines everyplace and not ending up in a homicidal rage if I decide to go to the Safeway earlier than 10PM…

I no longer want to wait 45 minutes for buses which are supposed to run at 10-minute intervals, nor to be packed into these buses like sardines with people who never learned the basics of personal hygeine and etiquette. I’m tired of being panhandled twice in every block and of never being able to light a cigarette without some complete stranger walking up and assuming I owe him one too…

I am not impressed with the ability to walk to a corner store and pay nine dollars for a box of stale corn flakes and four dollars for a quart of curdled milk. I am also unimpressed with the array of pretentious and overpriced restaurants at my disposal. The fact that I can walk a block and have sex with a speed freak in a dark bar also holds very little charm anymore…

The cable sucks. The newspaper sucks. Getting from point A to point B is difficult enough, and dealing with point B once you arrive is even worse. There WILL be a line, no matter what the establishment, and it WILL be full of people in big, ugly square-toed shoes who have “issues” with everything from the service to the chemical content of their braised tofu to their parents, and will spend ten minutes discussing these issues in the most annoying and long-winded terms possible, everyone else in line be damned…

I want to pay reasonable amounts for groceries and gas (and housing). I want to go to Target on a whim without it seeming like an expedition to Mars, and with the assumption that I’ll be able to splash down somewhere near where I live when I get back. And I want never to get on a bus again unless it’s by my choice and at my leisure.

I imagine I’ll get arguments from the “urban sophisticates” who believe all civilization ends at the SF city limits (or even worse, at Twin Peaks and Bernal Heights). Tough. I don’t go to art museums nor to the symphony. I don’t shop at any of the trendy boutiques in Union Square. I frankly don’t care how much of a “gay community” I’m surrounded by. I don’t go to nightclubs with $15 covers and $20 cocktails. My lifestyle does not require a large selection of headshops, leather shops, and gourmet cookware stores. I do not crave constant interaction with “colorful” (read “crazy”) people, and I do not believe that stepping in human excrement or syringes on the street adds anything particularly beneficial to my life…

There’s basically almost nothing I do here which I couldn’t do just about as efficiently in any mid-sized city in the country. So why I am I here? Inertia and the weather. That’s about it, and they’re both losing their grip on me…

Downtown Ink

Just think: if I’d actually pursued a career in planning, I could have spent all my time coming up with grandiose schemes like this one, which will probably never come to pass (and probably never should)…

What is this fascination so many small and medium-size sunbelt cities have with downtown stadiums and “grand pedestrian plazas” with cutesy little concrete doodads? They’re just like those stupid “downtown mall” schemes which blocked off main steets by the hundreds in the 1970s and are now being ripped up all over the country after succeeding at little but turning Main Street into a giant shooting gallery…

And why is it that municipal governments, when faced with lots of colorful sketches of ideas which have failed miserably everywhere else they’ve been tried, always manage to convince themselves that their city is the one place in the whole country where the scheme will definitely work and will “save downtown”, as long as enough money is poured into it?

If people decide to return en masse to downtown Greensboro (or Charlotte or Fresno or wherever), it will be beacuse an interesting culture has developed there over time which provides something not available elsewhere. It will not be because of some grand city-financed “master plan” which redesigns everything and assigns it a cute little name. And spending a fortune to induce white suburbanites to use mass transit is just plain ridiculous in most cities of the south and the west; it’s never going to happen…

They’ve already rebuilt downtown Greensboro about three times since 1970. Strangely enough, its most prosperous times have been the years before and in between, when they just left everything the hell alone…

If this sounds like a rather conservative viewpoint, it’s not really. I don’t mind cities spending money. What I mind is cities spending money on complete idiocy…

Integration

This was unexpected: poking around the Census Bureau’s Factfinder, I discovered that each of the inner-city areas I’ve lived in as an adult is actually less integrated than the suburb I grew up in (where my parents still live). Throws a bit of a monkeywrench into both the ideas of segregated suburbs and of the segregated south, huh?

Or does it just say something about gentrification?

Car-free Option

One of the biggest things I’d miss about living in a large urban area would be the ability to get around without a car. Even though I actually have one, I almost never drive it in the city. It’s just too much of a pain in the ass, given parking, traffic, and the alarming recent increase in the number of idiots on the streets. It’s usually easier just to walk most places I go, or sometimes to take a bus. My car is pretty much for trips to the supermarket and, more importantly, for trips OUT of the city.

Tonight, we took BART to Oakland for dinner, followed by a long walk. When I lived in Charlotte, we never took a train to Gastonia for dinner. In Greensboro, a fairly large city, I don’t think any of the bus routes even operate after about 6:00 at night. Tonight’s trip took maybe ten minutes longer than driving would have and the frustration level was almost non-existant.

I love having a car, but I also love not HAVING to have a car.