On the frigid SF summer
Okay, San Francisco, we need to talk. I know you’re famous for it, but, really, this whole I’m-cold-in-the-summer thing is getting pretty old.
Put yourself in my shoes. Imagine coming down with a flu and spending a weekend in bed, unable to move without disturbing the air molecules that keep battering your eyes. Yep, that was Saturday, two weekends ago, and I’m just getting over the ensuing phlegm. You did rally a beautiful, beautiful day in there for Sunday Streets SF, and I’m really thankful for that. Having somewhat recovered from my fever at that point, I got to spend the middle of the day on Sunday chillin on the laughably small Valencia sidewalk, chatting with friends and gawking at the bikers and roller skaters and kids on Skuuts. But the very next day, still swigging my Tylenol cold stuff, I stepped outside to go to work and you really put the smack down. It can’t have been more than 50 degrees outside. And so gray and miserable !! What a way to usher in a new week, I thought, adding freezing weather to partly sickness. But oh no, you didn’t stop there. It was cold and gray the entire week ! No happy weather for this camper.
And even though your cold, foggy influence extends only as far south as the airport and as far north as Mill Valley, you really make sure you have your preferences known within those borders. Even now, as I return home from another day at work, the sunshine that blesses the 101 as far north as the landfill is blocked out suddenly by the gray mass of water vapor that hovers, seemingly forever, over these beautiful hills.
I know, I’m being unfair. You’re beautiful and exciting, and you know it. In September you produce days of unparalleled beauty. But all summer it’s just been fog, wind, drizzle. You were much better last summer. So let’s step it up a bit. I expect full reform by the morning.