Whether it’s just a drive over the Oakland Bridge, walking
across the Golden Gate or picnicking in Presidio Park, there is something about
San Francisco that has an allure for me. For one thing the people there seem to
be friendly. Yes, it has an aura of eeriness that you can hold onto. Take a
ferry ride to Alcatraz or watch the summer fog roll in when you were hoping for
that famous California sunshine and you’ll get a gloomy chill. But you also
feel a warmth as you stroll your winding way down Lombard Street or ride a
trolley to look at the holiday displays at Macy’s. And the chocolate at Ghirardelli?
Well, who doesn’t understand the warmth of chocolate? And the strange thing is
that it seems like it should always be raining in San Francisco like it is in
Portland or Seattle, but it really doesn’t rain very much there. And then there’s
China Town. Just wandering the hilly streets and finding cheap trinkets or
eating dumplings all seems to be part of the pleasure of San Francisco. I’ve
been there quite a few times and I’ve heard all about its reputation of sleaze
but by and large that’s not really all that prevalent. You can find sleaze
anywhere you can find people, so if you are looking for it in San Francisco you
can find it. But you can also find the welcome of the Golden Gate and its
escape from the oppressive heat of the valley. When I think of California, I
think mega stars, money and shallow people sun bathing on sunny beaches or
golfing at Palm Springs. That’s not San Francisco at all. It’s a breath of
fresh air and a gateway to the redwood forests. That’s why, in spite of my
disdain for most things Californian, I’m grateful for San Francisco.
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