Thursday, Feb. 28, 2002. 6:20PM.
Powell-Mason Cable Car Line. San Francisco, California.
Today is Brian’s day to be a tourist. I was supposed to drop Bill at the airport on the way to visit customers in San Jose. The customer had to cancel (last minute project panic), so Bill decided to take the airport shuttle. He didn’t see any point in me taking the rental car out of the garage just to taxi him to the airport.
Now I have a spare day in San Francisco. I had booked my tickets expecting to have something technical to do on Thursday. Between the absence of customer visits and the lack of good sessions on IDF’s last day, I really had nothing to do. I worked out, checked my e-mail, then left the hotel at lunchtime to explore the city.
I spent the early afternoon at Ghirardelli Square and the waterfront near the piers. These are prime tourist spots populated by restaurants, shopping and tour companies. I use this time to grab presents for my friends back home. I’m getting together with the DragonCon crowd on Saturday. Many of my friends are getting Ghirardelli chocolate. Some are getting postcards. I find some matted maritime pictures for my parents, and a “Goat Crossing” sign for my wife.
My present comes in the form of a music store. Something akin to luck brings me to a small shop that sells Celtic instruments and music. They have a good stock of small percussion, like hand-carved wooden spoons and claves. I can’t find these items in most Atlanta music stores … they tend to focus on traditional drum sets for pop and jazz. I grab two sets of wooden spoons and a soft wood shaker. I need items like this for filks and the music circles that break out at sci-fi conventions.
My current cable car trip is taking me from the hotel back to the waterfront. I found out that Greg Proops is playing Cobb’s Comedy Club. Greg is one of the comedians on “Whose Line Is It, Anyway?” (the one that looks like the love child of Buddy Holly and Woody Allen). I returned to the hotel to stash the products of my shopping spree. While modern public transportation would be faster, the cable car is an essential part of San Francisco. The Powell-Mason line takes me through the heart of the city, up and down the city’s signature hills.
San Francisco is full of modern public transportation, electric trains and gas-powered busses. The cable cars have not advanced with the rest of the city’s transportation. They still run on the same basic mechanical principles used in the 1800’s, latching onto the network of underground cables that move under the city. Giant steel sandworms propel me through the heart of the city by the bay.
I’m enjoying this rare downtime, a chance to see one of the various places I go to for business. I wish Suzan was here to see this. I need to come back with her when I’m not on business, so we can enjoy the city without concern for my conference schedule. At least I’m getting a chance to scout the city for this supposed vacation.
The gripman pulls back on a giant handle, bringing the wooden trolley to a stop. We are at the end of the line, just a few blocks from the bay. Time for my evening on the town to begin.
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