all is full of love

Friday was one of those days that reminds me that I simply love being alive, and I love being alive in San Francisco. To start off, no one could ask for more beautiful late spring weather. When I got off the muni downtown SF yesterday, I walked from Market Street to Chantal's office on Sansome and Broadway, through Jackson Square and always staying on the sunny side of the street. Unfortunately, I had to work, so I spent quite a few hours inside an office, but then between the gig with Chantal and my new gig at KPIX, I had about 30 minutes to enjoy the late afternoon sun and breeze. I walked down to the Embarcadero and walked to the end of a pier, where when I looked in one direction, I saw the City skyline, and in another direction the Bay and ferries going by, and finally behind me was the span of the Bay Bridge. The late afternoon sun shining made me more and more in love with this City. And I never want to break up again! I promise I will never leave you!

So my shift at KPIX luckily was a short one, and I got out at 8 pm. The weather was still balmy (thanks to global weirding), and I met Sultan at Tosca where we had a beer and chatted with a nice young man named John from Fresno about such things as Laughing Squid, Burning Man, Nirvana (the band, not the state of being) and how much we love San Francisco. After Tosca, Sultan and I toured all the restaurants on Columbus and Green and Grant streets, searching for the perfect spot to have dinner on this beautiful late spring evening. We finally landed on Cafe Divine at the corner of Grant and Union. We took an outdoor table, so we could watch passersby. Sultan reminded me that Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio took their wedding photos on the stairs of the Church of St. Peter and Paul. And we were happy to have Washington Square laid out like a red carpet before us.

Julie and Young joined us towards the end of dinner, and we ordered another bottle of their $14 house wine. Bad idea, since Julie sips, Young doesn't drink, and Sultan wasn't interested in drinking anymore. Guess who finished off the majority of the second bottle by herself? Yes, Little Miss "Drink Life to the Lees." While I was guzzling away the light merlot, I got a phone call from my friend Danielle, who was at the Coachella Music Festival at the time. Instead of hearing her voice on the other end of the line, I heard Bjork belting out her divine hymn All is Full of Love. I listened in on the concert for 25 minutes. The connection wasn't the greatest, but hearing Bjork's voice on the other end of the line was a little piece of heaven for me.

Walking back through vibrant North Beach later that night, somehow I very easily convinced the tired Julie and Young to take a quick peek at the Wurlitzer jukebox at Tosca, which they had never seen. Tosca's jukebox is one of those San Francisco gems, with real vinyl, handwritten song selections, Maria Callas being one of them. We filed into the bar's busy crowd. At the jukebox was a man in a pinstriped suit with a little red handkerchief peeping out of the breastpocket, just waiting for us to arrive. He and his friends instantly offered us a round of drinks, and we accepted. I had a pinot noir (you see where this night was headed) and Julie and Young ordered ice waters. I found out that the man in the suit was named Dominic, an Italian from none other than the Bronx. We swing danced to Louis Prima and Frank Sinatra. He dipped me right into some guy's fist and I felt like I would have a black eye the next morning.

When Dominic told me he was in SF on business, I asked him what business he was involved in, and he answered, "Do I really have to answer that question?" Fair enough. Maybe I really didn't want to know.

Young noticed that the guy she was talking to, whose name apparently was Lo, was wearing a wedding band. She asked him where his wife was. He answered, "I'm not married. I just wear this ring. It was my grandmother's." Classic. Lo kept referring to us as the "three beauts."

Young was surrounded by three burly looking men, and I had to take a pic with my camera phone. Dominic interrupted me saying, "Hey Ansel, come dance with me!"

I noticed that Julie was looking tired and was almost done with what Dominic had pegged her Icelandic ice water. She told me she was ready to go. I told Dominic we were not going to have another round of drinks with him because we were heading home. He offered us his driver, who promptly entered wearing leather gloves. Before long, we were whisked away in a black Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows and black leather interior.

On the way home, I asked Johnny (or Gianni?), our driver from Sicily, if he came to SF for work or for love. He said he came for work, and added that he was a career bachelor and enjoys a single life. I asked him if he'd ever been in love. He retorted, "I fall in love with women every single day." That's a lot of love! I also asked him if being a chauffeur was his business. "No," he replied. "I only do this for my special clients." All of a sudden, his leather gloves took on new meaning.

Needless to say, I slept in all of my clothes and couldn't even manage to pull out the hideaway bed that night. The next morning, Young and I walked from Noe Valley to Cafe du Soleil for breakfast. We sat next to former Supervisor Matt Gonzalez, who was reading a book about Dada. After breakfast, I met Michael at Molotov to talk about my film, give him some cd's and catch up. I had a Virgin Mary, still detoxing.

The weather was so beautiful, gorgeous sunny day, that I needed to get out of the bar and outdoors. I met Young on Hippie Hill in the Park and we walked all the way to Ocean Beach. We cruised through the Arboretum and found many little romantic spots were we imagined we could have our future wedding or even just make out with a cute boy. Sigh! We watched the mallard ducks swim around the ponds and it was just one of those days that makes me love my City.

We met up with Sultan at the beach, and he gave Young and me a lift back to Noe Valley. I logged onto the Coachella website and watched Arcade Fire perform their set. It was only slightly almost like being there. I of course couldn't contain myself and was throwing my arms in the air and yelling when they played my favorite songs, especially Antichrist Television Blues.

The next morning, I met Jessica at Cafe du Soleil (no celebrity sightings unfortunately), and we took the new T line out to Hunter's Point and the Spring Open Studios at the Naval Shipyards. In all my years in SF, I've never been to Hunter's Point, and I wanted to see if it really is as dangerous as people make it out to be. So Jess and I got off the train and walked from Third Street to the Shipyards, past all the projects. All of a sudden, two motorcycle cops pulled over next to us and informed us that we were walking through a very dangerous neighborhood and we should at the very least walk on the other side of the road. The rest of our walk was uneventful. I thought the neighborhood could be quite charming, if a couple cafes or shops opened up there. It would be a nice little corner with an impeccable view of downtown.

The Open Studios were fun and we met some great artists. My favorite was the guy who painted these birds that looked like creepy carnival freaks. I'm still not wealthy enough to buy art, but one day...

After an hour and 45 minutes on the muni, I finally got to my car and went to Jayson's birthday BBQ, where the big news was that Jon has some exciting new developments in his life, and he's leaving us to go live in LA with his girlfriend. We popped open a bottle of Piper Hiedsieck and celebrated change.

And that, my dear and few readers, is the very long account of my very lovely weekend.