Fogged In With Sock

Recounted December 30, 2012

Petaluma, California

We left with a little bit of extra time, which we spent getting out to the freeway.

There was fog streaming through the air, not a solid bank, but waves of opacity, spinning horizontally and changing in density.  It was late commuter hour, about 9 am, and I was heading to my first interview in San Francisco. Architecture opportunities had not come a knockin’, despite submitting a plethora of resumes, so I was interviewing for a position of Building Auditor for a real-estate development, community-advancing firm near the intersection of Bush and Leavenworth Streets.

On the way, I had been reflecting on our long strange trip, and what I had learned. Obviously I hadn’t learned enough to not take a dog to an interview, though there seemed to be a few good lessons, like avoiding Dayton.

There was the fact that we seemed to be headed west in tandem with Amy Goodman’s Democracy Now tour, promoting community radio stations, calling attention to the violation of public lands by the BLM and fracking industry.  Then there was the apparent demise of WPFW, the last vestige of Jazz radio in Washington, where I had known any number of the programmers and the occasional performer.   It spoke to a higher calling, the Pacifica Radio Network, with its sister station, KPFA in San Francisco.

I thought of a beautiful, athletic girl I had seen at a rest area in Utah, before she got into a Colorado-plated Audi station wagon with a mountain bike on top. I thought of seeing a girl in a red sweatshirt in Idaho that evening, standing on a red curb and how I thought it would make a good photograph, only to see her get into an Audi station wagon with a mountain bike and Colorado plates…

Kaya had enjoyed a big time the previous week, the first time I had taken her into the city. After exploring around Sutro Heights and the Land’s End Lookout, a clean architectural gesture on this historic site, we had headed for the Embarcadero.  Sutro Heights is named after the baths that were built adjacent to the Cliff House, by Adolph Sutro, after he liquidated his mining interest.  The Cliff House has been rebuilt no fewer than twenty times, and was once a French Chalet cantilevering over the cliff above North Beach. The process of the redesigns is well documented in The Lookout building, as well as at the Cliff House Museum and restaurant. An advantage to visiting the Cliff House is seeing that seven decades of film and entertainment personalities have left signed photos from their visits.

Kaya seemed to enjoy the overlook above the breaking waves, and after buying a t-shirt we headed up Geary towards Fisherman’s Wharf. We parked in front of the Maritime Museum, and began walking the dozen blocks through the Italian Restaurants and Street Performers. I didn’t realize that Kaya was developing an admiration for the pigeons that were everywhere.

We stopped to listen to a blues musician, Sean King, playing slide in front of the entrance to pier 39. He proceeded to play “you’re in the doghouse now.” We sat for the tune, then proceeded up the pier seeking seafood. That was where Kaya’s newfound predilection began to manifest, as she charged headlong into a herd of these urban pierfowl, immediately captivating the attention of a large group of Chinese tourists. She became a quick film star as they pointed their cameras at her, taking a step back.

Tragedy was narrowly averted as 100 pounds of Black Bear reared up on hind legs, checked only by the restraint of the leash.  We took temporary cover in a Chinese Fish and Chips place, immediately knocking over our beer….but that was last week, and we journeyed our way home ahead of the traffic with little more harm than a parking ticket, $62.

The interview went well, lasting for ninety minutes, and we went exploring Golden Gate Park.  The redwoods surrounding the military base were mature, renovations were taking place at the Officer’s Club and we proceeded to a peaceful overlook, on the Pacific Coast Trail.

Before the Park, however, I had taken Kaya for a stroll over some of the steeper blocks of San Francisco, divining the location of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Xanadu Gallery (built as a bookshop for V.C. Morris). As I was trying to make a photo of the façade, one of the collection’s curators opened the door and asked if I would like to see the interior. He indicated that any number of people pass by on walking tours, though few actually visit the interior.

I indicated Kaya, tied to a parking meter while I worked the camera, and made use of the phrase, “companion animal.” He initially demurred, but shortly later returned and asked if she was well-behaved. This was as good as in, but in regaling him with her 4 semesters of obedience and Canine Good Citizen Award, I realized that being admitted into a Frank Lloyd Wright gallery with a dog was a certain liability, not unlike being loaned an ipad, yet potentially generating greater harm.

Kaya, of course, was dignified, received treats and accolades, and ascended the ramp to the collection on the second floor. We lingered under Mr. Wright’s low ceiling, a matrix of large and smaller convex lenses, within reaching distance, suspended amid scrolling fretwork. Keeping our visit brief, we headed back to the vehicle through Chinatown, entering through the gates.

Winding up at the West end of Golden Gate Park, we found a new overlook, a landscaping gesture that incorporated and integrated the design of ruins from an adjacent fort, started by the Spanish in 1790. Remarkably, the heavy concrete construction of later generations of the fort provided dramatic framing for views of the Golden Gate Bridge, and I got a passing tourist to include us in a couple of frames.

Returned to vehicular travel, we crossed under the bridge, by the Art Deco Restaurant and Gift Shop, around the circle, and left the city over the bridge.

We stopped at Vista Point, at the West end of the bridge, where there is an overlook of the bay and cities beyond, Alcatraz Island in its lonely splendor, and found a film crew making a commercial. I shot some panoramas with the ipad, and then let Kaya out, where she began to work the crowd for affection. If I only got to meet half the girls she does….we walked around the overlook, watching the crew and talent and headed west, into the sun.