LOOK EAST, YOUNG MAN!

Several years ago south of Market my apartment mate asked me if I could identify the bus five or six blocks away. With supreme confidence I informed her that it was the bus going to Blitzpah. It was cold, you understand, and that influences the eye's ability to focus and see clearly. Blitzpah. Actually the 15 Third. Even today I can unerringly identify buses in the distance heading toward Blitzpah.

It isn't until about three blocks away that their real destination becomes apparent.

Everything beyond the immediate boundaries of the world is Blitzpah.

To a tourist, all of San Francisco is Blitzpah.


Which probably explains why that woman yesterday dithered so incredibly at the corner of Grant and Clay, finally coming to a standstill righ in front of me, despite my having tried to avoid her wavering presence. She was from out of town, and quite unaware of traffic.
Her head and heart were still in Blitzpah.

From a vantage point on top of Nob Hill looking east, Oakland is Blitzpah.

That is to say, the real Blitzpah. Can't get more Blitzpah than that.


If wherever you are is filled with strange things and terms you do not know, it's all Blitzpah. For almost all Midwesterners and people from The South, all the world is Blitzpah, with the exception of Fishermans' Wharf, where there are businesses that cater to them, and chain restaurants serving kibble which is cooked precisely to their tastes, which they know by heart because they've seen commercials on Fox for precisely the same eateries in Tonkers harbor and Point Boudin, or whatever big city is closest to their town. The bus to the nearest mall goes right by five or six of those places. And it's all so delicious!
Why would you want to eat anywhere else?

There used to be a movie theatre there where they went with their aunt on weekends. Afterwards they'd have burgers, fries, and a shake at the fountain on Main Street.
Before window shopping at Woolworths and Walgreens.

We San Franciscans can only imagine.



First pipe of the day lit up after taking the bus to the top of the hill with all the office workers. It's easier than walking with these legs. Looked at the Bay Bridge, wandered around a bit, then headed downhill again toward my apartment building. Tapped the ashes out a block from my front door. It's time for another cup of coffee.



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