Jefe's House

Only my second trip in ten years to Baghdad by the Bay reminded me that SF is short on culture but long on history, fog, rain and redwoods. The redwoods were here before the city and will, the good Lord willing, be here long after the city’s gone, so make a drive across the Golden Gate Bridge to Muir Woods first and foremost on your list, followed by a drive along the Pacific Coast’s awe-inspiring Shoreline Highway.

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Back in the city, hit In-N-Out Burger down by Fisherman’s Wharf, a West Coast tradition since 1947, where the meat is fresh and never frozen, the fries are cut from fresh potatoes on the premises and fried in cholesterol-free vegetable  oil.  Sure, it’s a burger and  fries and isn’t ever really going to be good for you, but these are better for you than others, and besides the taste is incredible; a burger and  fries the way nature intended it.
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For a dash of history nothing beats a cable car ride. Yes, it’s really only for tourists these days and there are only 3 lines still in operation, down from the 22 lines that operated for locals back in the day, but it’s a living piece of US history and a mechanical wonder. In fact the cable cars are fully mechanical, not electric. Check it out:

 And for a bit of culture I recommend a visit to the legendary Magic Theatre,  started during the Summer of Love and taking its name from one of my favorite novels, Hesse’s Steppenwolf.  The play I saw was a faux Restoration comedy that’s better left undiscussed.

I topped off the trip with a drink at Top of the Mark, an historic, elegant bar atop the Mark Hopkins Hotel in Knob Hill.  I recommend their specialty martini the Manhattan Jack.  I know, it’s not a real martini because it’s not gin or vodka but it’s still a lovely drink – Jack Daniel’s, vermouth, and a cherry.  You’d swear it contained bitters or some sweet liquer but nope.  I had two and my envious companions also each ordered a round of them and we watched the repeated lightning strikes across the evening skyline during yet another rainstorm.

While I’m discussing Medicine, Man and Tesla’s  Letters now being available on the Kindle, I may as well discuss THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE:  A LECTURE ON TRAGEDY.  I conceived, wrote, directed and performed this 75-minute  autobiographical  tragicomedy about family skeletons, Nietzsche, Elvis and a trip to the Underworld in 2003. It came about because I had met Michael Wiener, an amazing performance artist of whom I was a big fan, at a party once. Doubtless I had consumed many martinis, and began blathering on to him about something or other.  At one point he stopped me and said, as I recall it, “You’re a good storyteller. You should come and do something sometime at this show I co-curate at the Gershwin Hotel.”  I was flattered, said sure, didn’t think he was serious.

Six weeks later I got a call from Michael’s co-curator, famed artist and Andy Warhol cohort Neke Carson, asking if I was interested. I said sure, and that I had a whole spoken-word, true story kind of thing worked out.  He said great, why don’t you come by in two days and tell me more about it.  In truth I had no idea what I’d do, so I thought – What’s the best true story you’ve got, Stanley?  What’s the (continue reading…)

Please enjoy my new Brooklyn Rail book review. Rivers of Gold is a tech noir novel set in New York City 5 minutes from now.  It’s got all the elements that the genre requires — girls, guns, drugs, noir, and lots of tech — but unless you’re a 14 year old straight boy you can probably skip it.

Not quite a detective story, Adam Dunn’s tech-noir novel lives up to its front-cover claim that it’s “a mile a minute” page-turner. Set in New York City in the year 2013, in which the five boroughs have been reduced to one giant South Bronx circa 1975, our chief docent is a hipster named Renny. An up-and-coming photographer, Renny uses his career to gain entrée to the city’s thriving underground nightclubs, or “speaks”—short for speakeasies—so he can deal Ecstasy to the city’s steadily dwindling number of affluent Beautiful People.

On the streets, violent crime is rampant, despite a pervasive surveillance culture propagated as much by NYPD’s street cams as by anyone with a  MY FULL REVIEW CONT’D AT BROOKLYN RAIL>>

[image via bloomsburyusa.com]