I was in San Francisco again earlier this month, on a visit with my father. It’s easy to become attached to the city, even if you weren’t born there. Here is a picture I took from Treasure Island:
And just to the left of that:
Earlier that morning we went to visit the Mission Dolores in the city. It’s hard to imagine that time, when the mission was the most substantial structure around. Now of course it’s all urban, and right nearby I came across by a chance a bar immortalized in one of my favorite songs, by Steel Pole Bath Tub, in which the singer lists a series of misadventures that befell him the night before, but he can’t remember any of them:
I don’t remember being on the floor
I don’t remember how it smelled
I don’t remember how they’ve been there before
I don’t remember when I fell…
I don’t remember why I woke up alone
With no more memory of you
I don’t rememberthat we were in love
That’s only one thing that I recall
I was singing at the 500 Club
I don’t remember her at all
Lo, the 500 Club:
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