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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.)

Weekend

Jesus, what a rotten week. I’ve been chairing a search committee at work and we had candidates in for on-campus interviews–which in the academic world takes a day and a half per candidate. I’ve had the university accounting people breathing down my neck for year-end grant reports. And my department moved into a new space. All in one week. My job usually isn’t quite this stressful but this week was a nightmare. Just to add texture, I’ve had trouble sleeping (surprise!), I’ve been fighting some minor bug, and my mom has been an even bigger challenge than usual all week. Tonight’s Time Warner snafu was the icing on my wretched little cake. I’m exhausted.

The weekend may require some flavor of impromptu road trip. I’ll keep you posted

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.

Where’d it go?

A year ago I was in San Diego. I can’t believe it’s been that long and I honestly can’t figure out what happened to the past twelve months. If anyone finds them, please let me know. I’d like them back.

Actually, I’d just settle for a bit of vacation. I’m kind of exhausted.

On the town

I spent a good chunk of my Canada Day weekend throwing out more crap from my two houses, but I took a break Saturday night to do the town with my friend Jeff.

I really should get out more. We had a  great time at College Hill and Westerwood, where there were interesting people and passably good music. Then we hit what is apparently Greensboro’s newest queer bar. I don’t know how new it is in terms of opening date but I can assure you there’s nothing else new about it, including the exorbitant cover charge. The crowd consisted of the same thirty or forty homos who have inhabited every Greensboro queer bar since time began, all of them wearing the same cologne and dancing to the same shitty music they were dancing to twenty or thirty years ago. For good measure, some guy I was a little embarrassed to have slept with almost thirty years ago hit on me. Suffice to say I declined his advances. If I were looking for a new hangout in Greensboro, it would be one of the two former bars, not the latter.

Today, I dealt with some stuff for Mom, took care of some things in Winston, had lunch at Cagney’s, and came home to watch the rain–there have been lots of opportunities for that this summer–while pondering my Fourth of July road trip. It’s looking like DC right now. I’m trying to decide between the cheaper hotel that’s not as nice and is farther from transit but is closer to Old Town Alexandria, and the slightly more expensive one that’s really nice and is right next to the Metro station but is more of a hike to anything local.

There was also German food in Durham on Friday and shawarma on Saturday.

1984 and other thoughts for a Monday afternoon

I was working on a really long and repetitive metadata project so I was pretty much under the headphones listening to music all day. It would be an understatement to say that the iTunes shuffle was very 1984-centric. I mean unrelentingly 1984, including obscure stuff that never seems to pop up otherwise. It’s like there was some sort of conspiracy to make sure I left work completely and thoroughly depressed…and no matter how often I re-shuffled, it just kept coming and coming. Right now, I’m getting “Cold Kid” by Glass Moon, which came immediately on the heels of “One Small Day” by Ultravox. Seriously. All day long it’s been music from the year that was–until 2011, at least–the gold standard of miserable, depressing years for me. I should be ready to stick my head in the oven by now.

But I’m not. Which is rather a nice feeling.

That said, I don’t think I’ll be opting for First Wave on the way home tonight. Not that I ever do anyway. Interestingly enough, I can barely stand to listen to early 1980s alt-pop these days…unless it’s in French. I had a conversation about this with a friend (one with whom I spent much of the 1980s) the other night. In retrospect, the 1990s were much more suited to my personality than the 1980s were and I liked them much better; the music was better, the boys were cuter, and I got laid a lot more. Further, I’m actually sort of off the whole “living in the past musically” thing of late anyway. Unless it’s the really long past…like before I was born…

Anyway, I’m off to DC next weekend. If anyone else will be there as well, I’m up for dinner at my new favorite Lebanese place in Alexandria. Or at the Roy Rogers of your choice.

With that, I’ll say “Happy Canada Day’ and be on my way home.

Charm City

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The claim on the bench may be a bit of a stretch but I really do love Baltimore. Like Pittsburgh, it’s not an easy place to understand. That may be why I like it do much–that and the fact that it’s so damned photogenic (photos to follow).

Exploring DC tomorrow. I will try to avoid the bookstore at the National Building Museum. It will not be easy.

Randomly Wednesday night

Stuff for a Wednesday night spent recuperating from a long-delayed root canal:

  • Isn’t this the same movie I was in fifteen years ago in San Francisco–assuming you substitute “nightclubs” for “slaughterhouse”? And my answer is the same: It was there before you moved into your overpriced condo. Get the fuck over it.
  • Lurking last week outside the building where Homicide was filmed has made me want to re-watch the series. I started tonight. We’ll see how long it lasts.
  • I love rain. Really. But enough is enough. Ten days in, we’re already at more than double the average to date for July, too.
  • It was a productive Wednesday. I spent my post-endodontics hours taking care of lots of business related to the parents, the real estate, and even me personally–including one major important step I’ve been putting off for a year or more. So there’s some sense of accomplishment there.
  • I’m not really in the mood again yet but I have another free room to use or lose this coming weekend. Suggestions that don’t involve more than a couple of hours in transit?
  • And in case you don’t follow such things, be advised that I will soon be able to Kroger locally again soon…sort of. And yes, it is a verb.