North Beach Festival

I attended my first North Beach Festival in San Francisco today, and it reaffirmed my love of two things: good music and good food. The salmon sandwich from Rose Pistola's was to die for, as I opted for the lesser of the evil food booth choices: the usual 12 different types of sausage sandwiches, the venerable Philly Cheesesteaks, the ubiquitious gyro, and the all-American corn dogs, among others. Wash that down with garlic fries, and you have the recipe for a perfect heartburn, as well as slamming your arteries shut with high-grade plaque. I could have sworn I heard sirens on multiple occasions--probably related to the numerous heart attacks caused by one too many Bratwurst.

The bands on the main stage at Washington Park were great, especially the Gator Alley Band, and the headliner, Cathy Richardson, formerly of Jefferson Starship. The Gator Alley is a tribute band for Lynyrd Skynyrd, and they did them justice. You can catch them on Shoreline, along with The Scorpions and Sammy Hagar on August 2nd. Not a bad lineup.

Thanks to cell phone technology, some of my friends were able to hear the music from the comfort of their couches, as I called it in from the front row. I talked to the lead singer after their set, and gave him my card next time they ARE the headline band.

I met up with two of my good bay area friends, offered some friendly financial and relationship advice over a killer Napoleon milles feuilles pastry, only it was in an Italian bakery instead of a French one (after all, we were in North Beach). Money shouldn't be an unpleasant topic, but unfortunately, in many instances, it can be rather uncomfortable for some.

On the way back to the BART station, on the 30 bus, I stopped at Old Navy to buy some beach paraphernalia, since it was dirt cheap. Plus, the bathrooms were much cleaner than the porta pots at the concert venue. Since I got hungry again, I rode the 30 back to Chinatown, but everything was closed. All except some underground cafe, at which point I asked two departing diners whether it was good. They nodded in agreement and I noted the local non-English speaking crowd, and I knew I was in good shape. The food was excellent--and cheap. Altho like most Chinatown cafes, you probably are glad you can't see the kitchen.

All in all, it was a great day--except for the fight that broke out on the 30 bus from North Beach to the Powell BART station. Apparently, there was one too many shoves while some were trying to get out. People panicked and de-bussed (is that a word like "de-planed" often used by flight attendants?). A couple girls cried, but I just used the opportunity to take a seat as they opened up, and waited for the popcorn. I've witnessed a few fights in my lifetime, and sparred thousands of times, but let me tell you, this was not a fight, it was patty-cake, patty-cake.

Anyway, what was much more harrowing was a drunken driver almost hitting me and another pedestrian, before slamming on the brakes. Sorry, I couldn't hold back and told him to fornicate off--the other pedestrian was a better man because he didn't let out a peep. I need to turn the other cheek more often.

The economy is headed south, and the only growth businesses in this environment are crime, law enforcement and bankruptcy law. Law enforcement budgets are being slashed as the number of crimes are skyrocketing. It makes sense: when people aren't working, more turn to crime. So let there be a lesson: the next time someone cuts you off on the freeway, don't flip them the bird or tell them to do something to themselves--gather yourself, and move on. You never know who's on the other end of that 9 millimeter.