Bus Report #1105

Another Wednesday, another commute to work.

Clement street as always is mostly quiet in the morning, but you see Early Morning Eric at the donut shop and wave to him, and he waves back.

The Wednesday morning women's bike ride is about to start, a dozen or so women in full cyclist gear waiting near Ornot until it's time to begin. 

Near the bus stop, you exchange a silent nod and wave with one of the men who works at Rose Pizzeria. He must wake up even earlier than you do, to start the pizza dough and whatever else is part of his daily routine. You realize that now, after weeks of acknowledging each other, you are part of each other's routines, too.

The bus arrives on time. You're listening to an episode of the Kitchen Sisters that you remember listening to on another long ago work commute - this episode is from June 2010, about Eel Pie Island in London. All their episodes are good, but this one is a favorite. 

At Mission and 16th three ladies are selling breakfast items to a crowd of folks headed to or from work. You love watching the ladies pour coffee and atole, pass around steaming tamales. They're wearing frilly aprons that remind you of your time working in Nicaragua and El Salvador.

The aprons are wide and have rows and rows of frills and ribbon. You know they have pockets, too, at this time in the morning most likely laden with coins and dollar bills.

When you step out the bus at Potrero and 16th the air is muggy, warm, with a hint of mown grass (but from where?) and greasy food from McDonald's.

The sky is bright blue to your right but ominously dark grey almost charcoal to your left.

You cross Potrero at the light, grin at your friends at the garage through their still-closed front door, and walk the rest of the way to the office. 

Bus Report #1104

 Saturday morning, bright sunny sky and Muni on time - curious, but you won't complain.

After a stop at your garden plot (44 O'Shaughnessy to 7 Haight) you skip (and yes, you truly do skip, it's that kind of day) down to Hayes Valley to drop off your glasses for lens replacement.

Along the way, a man rolls down his car window and shouts, "You have beautiful hair!" 

The nicest thing anyone's shouted at you lately. You thank him, walk on.

Two blocks later you see him leaning out of his car window again to call out to a young couple, "You have a great day now!" 

Hayes Valley is busy. People lined up for a new coffee spot, tourists dragging suitcases en route to their accommodations. Outside Nabila's, huge bouquets of sunflowers. The blooms are the size of dinner plates, and the most beautiful orange yellow color.

The street between Gough and Octavia is blocked off for a carnival and there's a circus performance in the Proxy space. Circus Bella with their burgundy and gold stage set. You love to see it. Little kids try the carnival games while their parents take photos. 

Glasses dropped off, you wander back down the street and get on the 7 again, towards downtown.

Your seatmate is a woman with huge plastic eyeglasses and she's dressed like you used to, circa 1997. Five rows up, facing you, is another woman who looks identical to her, down to the glasses. Are they twins? You think they are, even though they probably are not. 

And that's when it happens - you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and pure love for San Francisco today. So much so that you choke up a bit. Stare out the window at all the good and bad and confusing things that make Market Street what it is. 

People milling about outside the theater, kids on scooters and bikes, tourists near the Main Library and the Asian Art Museum, the sun glinting off of City Hall's gold dome. And the drug market near BART. Three people folded over, so still, like off-putting modern statuary. Someone passed out amid a pile of rags and trash. Market Street Ambassadors in bright T-shirts offering assistance to everyone.

Near the new IKEA, a band is setting up, part of the city's program to refresh and activate downtown.

You visit Liz at her art kiosk and hang out for a while, chatting and admiring her art, enticing others to come over, you don't bite, have a look at the art for sale.

Later, headed home, spot a new Vacant to Vibrant storefront activation. Cowrie Collective has beautiful wares for sale and you can't leave without a new candle and a bold pair of earrings. 

A regular Saturday. A beautiful Saturday. A reminder, really - of how to love your city.