Onward

We've moved to a city with fewer hills. More soon.

At Least It's Green

You know when a great time to pick your nose is? When you are not on a float in a parade.

Into His Own Parade

A man carries a sign along the parade route just before the start of the St. Patrick's Day parade in San Francisco on Saturday, March 12, 2011. This was the 160th presentation of the annual event.

And Everything in its Place

Some visuals don't leave me confident that everything is under control.

Shoulda Put a Ring On It

Oh, I guess you did.

Word on the Street, Below the Line Edition

This was in Pacific Heights.

Last Man Standing

A sudden rainstorm leaves one last player on the field at Kimbell Playground in San Francisco, Wednesday, Feb. 16, 2011.

Word on the $treet

This is near the Boom Boom Room.

My Alcatraz Photo #1

Above: Sunday, Jan 23, 2011. On my other blog you can see My Alcatraz Photo #2.

Sketching

Above: Rainboots in the Marc by Marc Jacobs window, Fillmore Avenue, San Francisco, January 5, 2011.

Word on the Street (2011 Edition)

Technically, not a word, but still... it counts.

Re-entry

Above: a snap taken on the way back into the city Friday morning.

The Numbers Game

One of the first things we did when planning to move to San Francisco was research crime in the city. In our search for a place to stay, we avoided neighborhoods showing higher crime stats -- though we eventually realized that it's a 7-by-7-mile grid, and you can't really get that far from anywhere.

Unfortunately, as pleased as we've been with our neighborhood, this is a big city, and crime happens. While we were out of town for Thanksgiving, we saw this story and realized it occurred awfully close to home.

23-year-old identified as Japantown fatal shooting victim.

Above: A playing card found on the street Thursday morning on McAllister Street, as we were leaving town.

Cliched Sunset, Inside Looking Out Edition

About 20 minutes ago. You know ... why not include the window?

Durr ... Igible

Among the things I don't understand: why celebrities don't have blimps. People do all sorts of ridiculous things to get into the news. Why not just have a blimp and fly around? Put your picture on the side. Grant interviews ... but only on your blimp.

Above: a non-celebrity blimp flying over San Francisco today.

And You Shall Know Us By Our Fancy Signs

You can always tell the character of a protest by the quality of its graphic design.

First, great font choice. Some might say those fancy "O"s in "BOYCOTT" are a bit too fussy, but not me. Come on, this is a march held in between four-star hotels -- it's gonna need a little style to be taken seriously.

Second: good color choice. Goldenrod? Attention-grabbing, but not harsh. It's got the power of black-on-yellow without the harshness.

Third, putting together the words "Unite" and "Here" is a bold choice. But think it through: conceptually, it's about ... uniting. So push the two words together. Fine.

Good work, Anonymous Protest Sign designer!

But I think, to be perfectly honest, that the whole thing risks becoming a bit too postmodern when you include the graphic of people carrying signs and protesting. I mean, I see people carrying signs and protesting, I get closer to read their signs, and I wonder what the graphic is ... and it turns out to be an image of people carrying signs and protesting. It's like conceptual clip art, and that's not working for me.

Overall, though, it's a clean, protest-ready look that beats out hand painted signs by a mile. Unless, of course, you want the protest to seem authentic and grassroots and not like it was organized by a professional protest group with a budget for graphic design.

Word on the Street, Part 3

I assume this was scratched into the concrete before there was a television show with this title. Then, it's cool. If not, then it's not cool. Context!

Word on the Street, Part 2

I think this was on Fulton.

Word on the Street

Above: on the way to Golden Gate Park.

Grand Being Relative

In New York, it was always important to know the difference between a Terminal and a Station. If you didn't, you might as well just mispronounce Houston.

In San Francisco ... well, I don't know what the hell that is or why it's called that.