Even the brand is a distant memory now. Known as a Jackaroo in Australia, a word that essentially means cowboy—though what cows and “roos” have in common is beyond me—but hey it’s Oz—they make their own rules in the land of the ridiculous girly-man “ute” (just think El Camino if you’ve never been down under). Incidentally, Jackaroo is also the name of a memorable gay porn flick, but I digress. … [Read more...] about TROOPER

Middle-aged, burned out and bored. It’s time to try something different. I have always loved writing, and have been told at various times that I’m not bad at it—though I wasn’t a big reader until my 30s. I had a memorable college professor in design school that used to say: “if you can’t write, you can’t think.” I must write about her one day—she was quite a character who led what I would call a … [Read more...] about ME

Hermann is a short little street, only four blocks long, that most cab drivers don’t even know by name. It dead ends into Duboce Park, but isn’t officially within the Duboce Triangle neighborhood. In fact as far as I know it isn’t officially within any named San Francisco neighborhood—a city made up very much of named neighborhoods. It’s an edge, an intersection, in between, an outlier with an … [Read more...] about Duboce Triangle

I can’t remember why we decided to move together, my lesbian roommate and I. I had been talking about moving to get off the couch and out of her way—and to stop the monkey dreams. The “monkeys” turned out to be real, but they were actually raccoons scurrying by my open window inches from my head as I slept nearly every night, and nearly every morning I would relay to my roommate the weird monkey … [Read more...] about Dolores Park

  They’re all very different now, freshly painted, fancy new kitchens, refinished floors, and hugely expensive rents paid by a new wave of techies and the development community that preys on them—all that is except the apartment we’ve lived in now for more than 20 years, taking full advantage of San Francisco’s rent control laws—while they last. The apartments I’ve lived in since 1989 have … [Read more...] about The Castro

There's something miniature about Portland, from its tiny streets and blocks to its baby skyscrapers and oh so iconic but mostly boring bridges, especially the new mini Calatrava-esque one. Add to that it's truly giant trees (can't see the forest for them) a taco bar or groovy junk store sticking out of every garage on Hawthorne, Voodoo Doughnuts and the effect is like being on some kind of … [Read more...] about Portlandia-cule

Sitting at one of our usual cafés at Market & Noe (outside because it's all about the dog now); in fact it's the first place we came with the dog, back when we worried if she would behave; the place we also came 3 times a week after ECT (Edison's Medicine) in those dark months after the bridge episode. Soaking in neighborhood vibe - a rapidly changing one - and wondering how changed I will … [Read more...] about Going Home