For better or often worse, I consider myself a connessieur of the souvenir, and feel compelled to memoralize even the smallest day trips with the perfect treasures (especially diner mugs — perhaps an impractical collection choice for someone who doesn't drink coffee). But on this 3 city 10 day trip we nearly managed every day without acquiring a pile of strange trinkets. Except: San Francisco. In San Francisco we made the mistake of daytime martinis.
Two Didion books and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses may be my finest souvenir victory yet
We stayed with an old friend of mine with a beautiful porch view overlooking Dolores Heights — who, now that I think of it, has saved me from sleeping in terrible hotels/vagabond-style on the streets twice now, and whose home always feels especially homey. Thanks Jourdan!
Janaka at City Lights
The next evening was a Litquake/Third Man Records event at City Lights Bookstore, where Janaka and three other amazing poets read to a packed second floor room.
Sampson Starkweather, Paige Taggart, Janaka Stucky
I would normally move around quite a bit more to get different angles and show the crowd, but in this case it was actually impossible. I clambered over two audience members before realizing the next steps would involve either crowd surfing or smoke bombs. So the readers are almost entirely shot from one little stepping stool next to the merch table.
Jenny Stanford, reading from a new collection of Frank Stanford's work
Record player, merch table
Chet Weise and Jenny Stanford
Sampson, Jenny, and Janaka
I'd visted San Francisco several times before over the years and it just never really stuck; I can't even remember what I didn't like about it. The stomach-drop of winding roads on steep hills maybe, or the water color houses, all flushed peach and sea glass and lemon curd, everything too dreamy and soft. Cities, I might have thought, should take themselves more seriously, show some hard edges. But this was a trip that made me think I have always loved San Francisco.