Monday, August 27, 2012
MY COLDEST WINTER
Mark Twain's coldest winter is quoted to have been an August in San Francisco. I doubt Mr. Twain has ever been in Bologna around Christmastime (and the quote is apochryphical anyway).
Having said that, I don't feel like dismissing the effect of the summer fog in the city.
This kind of fog has horsepower, it does not creep around your back: it punches you straight in the face.
And the hotter is around the city, the thickest is the fog. To be rid of the fog there should be a nice ice age in the remaining parts of California.
What are the odds? Furthermore, inside the city limits, not all neighborhoods have been created equals. Some of the neighborhoods don't see a ray of sun for a good three months; others have a window of sun between eleven in the morning and four in the afternoon; in the Mission is like Rio de Janeiro, with the palm trees and the carnaval. If you don't live in the Mission, you need winter gears. And since you move around town without a "communicating vases" system in place, you have to be prepared. Either you carry with you a suitcase with a wardrobe for the change of season, or you wear one of these clothes combinations:
#1 CORDUROY SHORTS ( I know, oxymoron), HALTER TOP, MOON BOOTS.
A classic of absurdity although seen with my own eyes!
#2 HOODED HEAVY COAT, SCARF, NO SOCKS, FLIPS FLOPS.
A fitting example of ying and yang.
A perfect day in San Francisco?
Leaving the house covered up and shed layers throughout the day (strip tease San Francisco style).
Lunch in the Mission with ice cold beer ( do not forget the sunscreen). Storage of vitamin D on the lawn in Dolores Park, with the rest of the city's refugee.
Then, by sunset, going back home for a nice cup of hot cocoa in front of the fireplace.