We just spent a few days in San Francisco with two of our grandchildren, ages 13 and 11. (The younger one qualifies as a teenager based on life experience and perspective.) They are sweet, and understanding, and gracious, and responsive.
Enthusiastic—maybe not so much, but I don’t blame them. They know that every invitation or suggestion from an adult could lead to some undisclosed task or consequences. They are wise, in that regard. And besides, it could be the fault of the tour operators…
Food—ah, a common interest. They are gastronomically adventurous. While there are times when devastating hunger drives them to order more than they could possibly consume, their appetite for sweets led to our visit to The Baked Bear on Columbus Avenue. Given the need to visit (for their sakes), I was excused in ordering a warm brownie topped by deep chocolate ice cream for me. We adults so often ignore a sweet tooth. Not so here. Holy smokes—decadence.
While I appreciate the attraction of rural settings as vacation spots, my first choice is urban. Intense urban. As in London. As in San Francisco.
My personal need for recreation is sated by a stroll through Chinatown and North Beach. Or dinner on Chestnut in the Marina District as we observed the neighborhood demographics: some really, really old people (even older than me) that were obviously locals, and a lot of young professionals (I figure late 30’s). Mostly white.
Of course, a visit to a different neighborhood can bring a dramatic change. Our walk from Union Square to our destination for a lunchtime dessert, the Sweet Glory Café at 721 Larkin (0.4 mile), took us through the Tenderloin to a little shop selling crepe cakes. No violence here, in broad daylight, but plenty of despair. (Somehow the Google map car captured Rainbow Market & Deli without the lounging crowd.)
There are a few areas still in the south of Market area that present the same, sad picture. We had an interesting discussion, sitting comfortably in the Macy’s café at Union Square, about poverty, its very visible presence in big cities, and how radically different economic and social conditions can exist within a few blocks of each other.
There are plenty of reasons I believe San Francisco is a great city, but one of them is Golden Gate Park. The same goes for Central Park in New York City.
We have watched first-hand as Sacramento sought to become a “world class city” over the last 20 years. This effort has included substantial financial support for an arena that would provide a home for a professional basketball team. We borrowed $300 million to build the arena, and now we’ve got the Kings and a budget deficit of $66 million.
Along the way Sacramento supported levee improvements years ago that opened up the Natomas basin north of downtown to development. It’s a big area, and Sacramento received permits from the federal and state resource agencies to develop more than 8,000 acres of agricultural land. Given the desire to be considered a world class city, Sacramento might have considered building a park that would rival Golden Gate Park at 1,103 acres; New York’s Central Park’s 843 acres; or Chicago’s Grant Park, known as Chicago’s Front Yard, with 319 acres.
That didn’t happen, of course. The 8,000 acres that were newly opened were intended for urban development, and that didn’t include a massive park.
My humble opinion, supported by evidence of thousands of people in Golden Gate Park having small group picnics, visiting one of the several museums, or simply walking or biking in the park, is that a large park is an essential world class ingredient.
Parks are for the little people, though, the hoi polloi. Arenas are for people that can afford a ticket ($133 and up for courtside for the Kings; $236 for Kelly Musgrave; plus parking and refreshments). And flat agricultural land is for houses and malls.
Being in a dense urban environment can also intensify economic lessons. I get up early, and so I would make a morning trip for coffee and essentials (chocolate croissant for Layla, pumpkin loaf for Shane). On Sunday I walked two blocks to Starbuck’s (Sunday, 6:00 a.m.). No lines, but I thought there might be a line on Monday (weekday, 7:00 a.m.). In the midst of my two-block trip, I passed another Starbuck’s I hadn’t noticed, right there on the corner! I was advised, on asking, that they also had another location right around the corner. Three!
I’m no big fan of Starbuck’s, but I’m not a hater either. This is, in fact, the way our free enterprise system is supposed to work. If there is a line at a Starbuck’s, and this might drive customers away, then open another shop. Customer service personified.
The big city exposes other, perhaps less friendly dynamics of the economy. In addition to the face of poverty, one cannot ignore the many motorcycle riders, heavily bundled against the cold, crouched low over their phones waiting to grab an online order for delivery. Our economy always supports some existing jobs, and eliminates others, but the rise of delivery drivers scrambling to make a living is disconcerting, and on full display especially in the tony neighborhoods.
One other consideration in attaining “great city” status is transportation. This is especially so given the cost of owning a car, and the hassle of parking it. While Muni regularly takes its lumps in the press, I noticed that young people 18 and under ride free. I bought an all-day pass for $5.00. If you visit you can actually see a crowded bus, something I’ve never seen here in Sacramento. Being able to travel around the City without a car, and on something other than your feet or a scooter, is a revelation.
We’re back on our quiet little street now, and the kids will soon return to their pleasant enclave in San Diego, after an interval with their other grandparents in the metropolis of Lodi. I hope the pictures of San Francisco remain with them for years and draw them back for reflection.
Tom, It is Sat. April 6th and I just goy around to reading your April 2nd musings. I loved them and
will look forward to the next edition.
M
Roy and I have fond memories being with you in San Francisco many years ago. Riding in Big Red comes to mind. My favorite was meeting your Christopher shortly after he was born. Hugs from us.