North Beach Lunch
The city was gray and misty by the time I reached the bridge. It was so cool. Redding had been very warm with the feeling that summer was coming on too early. I brought layers of clothing to add as I drove south.
I had missed the turn onto 29 south. I’d forgotten it was 53 at that point. I drove all the way up Clear Lake listening to my custom made Marc Bolan – T Rex CD.
I’d started with Grant Lee Phillips. Played Brian Jonestown Massacre’s Space Girl, then Marc Bolan.
*photo by Bob Gruen
It was nice to be alone with the music.
“No, you can’t stop the children of the revolution. Oh, oh no.”
The sweet trill of Bolan’s tremelo voice was a joy.
I drove on. When I reached 29 at the top of Clear Lake a glance at the map let me know that I’d have to go all the way around the lake returning south east to get back to where I had originally intended to be.
I decided to go over 175 to Healdsburg. On the map it looked like a pretty straight line over to 101. It was miles of twisty narrow road over the mountains.
I thought of Victoria Williams song about always being on time no matter what time you arrived. It’s a psych thing. Set the scene. My world.
I wanted to get to San Francisco because Jessica had wanted to go to dinner. I didn’t get in until 8 p.m.
We hung out and watched Colbert Report and The Critic on Hulu.
Isn’t this a great color on their walls?
Warm and rich to balance the gray that came the next day.
On my trusty map it looked like I would roll right up to her door after I reached the bridge but there was a drive across town first.
The city was packed, busy, jammed. I managed to find my way.
Jessica and Colby have many great albums. Yes, they are vinyl elitists. Their roommate, Moises, works at a groovy record store. They all are awash in the minutia of release dates, labels, track listings, liner notes. Albums are history. I loved all the records I ever had. I could look at the cover art and liner notes over and over again. It’s a world unto itself.
These are the stacks of vinyl. You may drool and would do more drooling were I to have a list of the treasures that sit on these shelves.
Jessica loves Townes van Zandt and other good men. Colby loves Brazilian music and African and together they love lots more. Both are musicians themselves and they have carved out a nice space, physical and psychic, for themselves in San Francisco.
That makes me happy.
This is a portrait in charcoal, I guess, of the lovely Miss Jessica Lynn Pratt.
A friend of hers, now gone from San Francisco, made it after knowing Jess a short time. It’s beautiful.
Sunday morning Jess, Colby and I headed for North Beach. It was jammed. We found a cool parking garage across the street from Caffe Macaroni, the restaurante Italiano were we brunched.
Good stuff. It’s their favorite spot.
I know I am prejudice but aren’t they grand?
So very very cute. I could post this on cuteoverload.com
They’re as cute as any puppies or kitties or hedgehogs I’ve ever seen.
That is in no way a dis. Rather, it is sincere high praise. Cuddly, brilliant, complex shining sweetie pies.
Brunch was amazing. I ordered the sea creature fanatasia dish.
The black linguini was covered with mussels, little octopi things and a large shrimp thing, ocean dwellers, crustaceans.
I’d never ordered anything like it. It was quite extravagant.
Beautiful colors and nice if chewy.
Before we had the main course we had delightful appetizers.
It was rich, cinematic, and very tasty.
There was good conversation and Euro MTV on televisions scattered around the joint.
Prosciutto and melon with strawberries looking good.
And speaking of looking good:
The waitress offered to take a picture of us all together. Thank you!