Happening

Nothing like a day in the city to bring out your inner hick. We wandered in the Fillmore, a neighborhood we don't know at all, and I was amazed at all the money and shine. We both kept thinking about the film we saw recently, The Last Black Man in San Francisco. This shop window has everything: sequins, fake fur, animal prints, glitter, and makes no sense at all. I'm fascinated with the reflections of the diners, which are clearer than what's right in front of me. We saw stores that sold nothing but specialty shoes--one place had footwear made out of recycled plastic bottles; the shop was so tiny that only a few customers at a time were allowed in, which resulted in a huge line on the sidewalk. Great marketing for an odd product. Another shop just had shoes made from recycled tires. Someone was actually selling sea shells. Lots of designer ice cream. Clothes boutiques. Folks strolling along with big branded shopping bags and huge ice cream cones. It was all very entertaining and surreal.

Extra. A bit further along are the exceptionally steep Fillmore steps, affording a superb view of the Bay, a peek at the Golden Gate Bridge and the Palace of Fine Arts, and omnipresent Karl, the Fog.