#slope street in san francisco
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The most well known of San Francisco's numerous pedestrian streets is that section of Filbert Street between Montgomery and Battery streets on the steep eastern slope of Telegraph Hill - the Filbert Steps. This pastoral enclave, which includes the cross streets Darrell Place and Napier Lane and the nearby Greenwich Steps, is dotted with cottages that are testament to the bittersweet challenge of cottage living.
The Cottage Book, 1989
#vintage#vintage interior#myfavorites#1980s#80s#interior design#home decor#Filbert Steps#staircase#garden#Telegraph Hill#San Francisco#Montgomery Street#Battery Street#pastoral#style#home#architecture
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Dear Listeners,
It’s winter break here in Vermont so my son and I have been out on the slopes every day. For many years I have stayed away from fast slidey sports because I was afraid of injuring my hands. If my hands don’t work, how do I make music? But among the many bits of advice I’ve gotten in my parenting journey, “be into what your kid is into” has been one of the best. My lad needed someone to ride the lifts with and I needed to overcome my fear and learn how to fall properly, so here I am.
I found that skiing is not all that different from rollerblading, which I learned to do in Central Park the summer of my junior year. I brought the skates with me on my year abroad in Florence. On weekends there was this amazing city to explore but buses and museums and cafes cost money. And whenever I roamed the quiet streets and parks alone, I would be perpetually harassed, groped and even flashed by pathetic men. But rollerblading was free and, bonus, I am already quite tall, so with skates I was at least 6ft2in. No one ever messed with me on skates. I adapted to the cobblestones and explored all of Florence with exhilarating freedom.
One Sunday, as I was enjoying the expanses of asphalt in Parco delle Cascine, I came upon a group of folks on old-school rollerskates. They had a boombox and were dancing, just like the skaters of Central Park but without the sequined hot pants. They waved me over and exclaimed over my weird skates. They invited me to join them and for the rest of the school year, I spent every Sunday afternoon I could with the rollerskaters. We would gather, dancing and skating around obstacles, and once we had critical mass, tear off along the Arno and into the old city. We’d skate past the David, circle the Piazza della Signoria multiple times and whizz down the marble collanade along the Piazza Republica, ending in a bar, still on skates, for an espresso or aperativo. Those are some of my best memories of my year in Florence.
I continued the skating when I moved to San Francisco, zooming most days through Golden Gate Park to the beach and back again. Sometimes I’d join a similar group of mad skaters on Friday nights to roll fearlessly down hills and through tunnels. Skating was always a great source of joy. But then I moved away from the paved environment of the city and I transitioned to music full time. After acquiring a broken finger from an Evil Door and being shocked at how much that tiny injury impacted my ability to play, I quit skating.
Fast forward to Vermont. Like many people did during the pandemic, I got back on skates except this time with padding, wrist guards and a helmet. And then, as my boy learned to snowboard, I learned to ski. We still ride the lifts together but now he zips down black diamond trails while I ski carefully down the easy ones. He is mystified as to how I can bear to do the same runs over and over but I like it that way. It’s like a meditation. I focus on perfecting my technique and try to make each turn better than the last. It feels similar to one of the things I enjoy about playing the cello, which is noticing tiny details and gradually polishing them. How can I improve this one phrase that I have played thousands of times? It never gets old or boring for me.
I hope it never gets boring for you either! Next week I’ll get back to work improving my old songs and figuring out to play some of my new ones in time for my concerts in March.
March 15 - ArtYard in Frenchtown,NJ
March 16 - Underground Arts in Philadelphia, PA opening up for my old friend The Sleepytime Gorilla Museum
March 17 - Le Poisson Rouge in NYC
March 21 - St John’s Cathedral at the Big Ears Festival in Knoxville, TN
And one more
April 6 - Unitarian Univeralist Church in Burlington VT, accompanied by mesmerizing visuals by Alex Reeves
also, outside my solo work on April 7 I’ll be a part of composer Randal Pierce’s ensemble, performing his live soundtrack to George Méliès’ silent cinematic masterpiece, A Trip to the Moon
6:30 and 8:30pm shows
More about all the events happening in Burlington around the eclipse
Thank you for listening and please wear a helmet when you are going fast.
celloly yours, Z
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The Beat Has Just Begun - chapter 7 extras
A lot happened in this chapter! This post is... not really about any of that. Have a grab-bag of research notes instead.
Blizzards were introduced in 1985, and were a huge hit. Here's an article I found from 1986, and here's a Reddit thread with a vintage Blizzard ad.
Baggage carousels may seem pedestrian now, but they were space-age shit in 1962 when the TWA Flight Center was built at what is now known as JFK International Airport. The TWA Flight Center was apparently not the first airport terminal to have baggage carousels - this report (PDF link) by the New York Landmarks Preservation Commission cites a 1963 article saying carousels already existed in Montreal and San Francisco - but they were still a very new idea. Before baggage carousels you had to search for your bag in a baggage rack. Like you know how you get those little trucks with a train of baggage carts behind them on the runway? Imagine trying to find your bag in that mess.
Anyway, by the time Steve and his mom flew TWA from IND to JFK sometime in the mid-70’s there was probably also a baggage carousel at the airport in Indiana, but Steve would have encountered the one at JFK first. Sure, it’d been around for at least a decade by then, but that really isn’t such a long time, and kids are easily impressed. It may also have been the only time Steve’s ever been on an airplane, despite being a rich kid. Air travel is a lot cheaper and more accessible than it used to be.
Park Slope in Brooklyn was indeed full of lesbians in the 60's and 70's (and beyond). I did a lot of googling when trying to pick a home for Aunt Mary and Daisy, and, well, can’t go wrong with a place some in the community affectionately called ‘Dyke Slope’.
I spent a lot of effort looking for prescription drugs that had both a period-accurate street name and the right kind of pharmacological effects for Steve's case. I eventually settled on Demmies/Demerol (generic name pethidine/meperidine) and confirmed that the slang term existed at the time through Google Books.
(If the link doesn't work it was supposed to go to a list on page 375 of a book called Clinical Diagnosis and Management by Laboratory Methods from 1984. Fic research: serious business.)
Smoking is bad for wound healing, score one for Steve.
I don’t specify in the story because Steve’s not likely to notice or care, but in my head Erica is reading Sweet Valley High #2, published 1983.
The Amoco brand name dates back to the 1920’s, and from what I can tell there were gas stations by that name in America until 2001, and then the brand name was reintroduced in 2017? That’s what Wikipedia would have me believe, anyway. Hawkins, like the small town I'm low-key drawing on when I write it, is about 60% gas stations by volume.
Is any of this interesting to anyone? I hope so. I'll keep on typing it up either way, because I can't help it.
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Redwood House, renovation of a 1974 two-story family home in Noe Valley, #SanFrancisco by Studio Terpeluk @studioterpeluk. Read more: Link in bio! Photography: Joe Fletcher @joefletcherphoto. Studio Terpeluk reshapes a 1970’s San Francisco hillside house mixing vintage redwood tones with a contemporary language of color. Nestled among the California city’s neighborhood known for its streets lined with Victorian and Edwardian style homes, Studio Terpeluk completes the renovation of a 1974 two-story house of an American creative couple on the gentle slopes of Noe Valley, a picturesque area in San Francisco surrounded by private gardens and lush vegetation… #usa #california #архитектура www.amazingarchitecture.com ✔ A collection of the best contemporary architecture to inspire you. #design #architecture #amazingarchitecture #architect #arquitectura #luxury #realestate #life #cute #architettura #interiordesign #photooftheday #love #travel #construction #furniture #instagood #fashion #beautiful #archilovers #home #house #amazing #picoftheday #architecturephotography #معماری (at Noe Valley, San Francisco) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjgLmwMLzR0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#sanfrancisco#usa#california#архитектура#design#architecture#amazingarchitecture#architect#arquitectura#luxury#realestate#life#cute#architettura#interiordesign#photooftheday#love#travel#construction#furniture#instagood#fashion#beautiful#archilovers#home#house#amazing#picoftheday#architecturephotography#معماری
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GF Fanfic - We Fought a Zoo
Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Past (34,006 words) by darkspine10
Chapters: 7/9
Fandom: Gravity Falls
Rating: Teen and Up
Zera was fighting to stay awake. Her wife had never learned how to teleport, and with her brother-in-law’s party taking the only car they were reduced to the horrors of public transport. They’d been lucky to squeeze past a throng into spare seats on the Muni bus heading into the city centre. Despite her tiredness, Zera found the connecting wires above the bus strangely fascinating - she’d never seen a vehicle restricted to one strict path side-by-side with free moving traffic before. Pressed in a line beside her father-in-law, she craned her neck like an eager child to catch a glimpse through bleary eyes.
Meanwhile Mabel grimaced at her father from across the way between strangers’ bodies rocking back and forth. In the packed bus it was all she could do to show she was sorry for the deceptions. He had his arms crossed and a neutral expression, which for him meant a resting gruffness much like his grandfather’s.
Mabel tried to ignore the unceasing gaze and plan for what lay ahead. Between them they had Journals 3, 6, and Stan and Ford’s combined tome, but Mabel wasn’t about to put her full trust in the books. Relying on the journal to find weaknesses in the heat of a fight was all well and good in theory, so Dipper assumed, but Mabel preferred a more practical approach. The journals had led to ruin as many times as success, and she lacked her brother’s unflinching reverence for knowledge for its own sake. No, she was readying to face the tulpa with sheer pluck and her own skills. Before leaving the house she’d equipped herself, strapping on her grapple gauntlet, the adapted invention she’d crafted from her old grappling hook. The black bracer was strapped to her left wrist. Beneath, in the adjacent launch tube, she’d loaded a multipurpose tranquiliser. It was enough to take down most possible threats.
Mabel wished she’d brought her motorbike, shaking in her seat as the bus turned a corner and made its way down another sloping street. Zera slid into Mr Pines’ side and held the nearby bar to stay upright in her seat. For his part, Mr Pines seemed vaguely uncomfortable at her touch - probably unnerved now he knew the woman next to him was not East Indian, but was in fact an ET with iridescent scales, tendrils rather than hair, and pale eyes like a shark’s. Still, Mabel mused, he was putting up with all this, so it wasn’t a total failure of first contact.
They were passing through the densest part of San Francisco, not far from where Errata had made his initial rampage. The people walking the streets seemed unperturbed, although the news had reported that the tulpa - resembling a horde of zombies at the time - had travelled in this direction. Maybe that was the reaction most people had to encountering the unknown, to bury their heads and forget in a collective effort to stay sane. It worked in Gravity Falls after all. She wondered what that meant for her family’s particular brand of relative madness, that they endeavoured to discover and chronicle every last shred of evidence of the paranormal.
“That’s where I work,” Mr Pines said awkwardly, pointing Zera’s eye towards one of the anonymous skyscrapers. It was obvious to her that he was faintly embarrassed. He was divided between his upset confusion at the events of the past day and his duties as a host to his daughter-in-law.
“As a… computer expert?” she offered, trying to open him up to conversation, though she had to yell somewhat in the cramped car. With the perception filter masking Zera’s alien features, Mabel could almost imagine this was a perfectly ordinary family outing.
“Yeah, I’m a back-end techie in a big software developer. You’d be surprised how satisfying editing lines of code to get rid of bugs can be.”
“Uh huh,” Zera said, and Mabel facepalmed. Her dad’s work was hardly the most thrilling to talk about. At least they were making an effort to get along.
The Muni led them through the Sunset District, an endless expanse of squat, square buildings, laid out in a gridlike pattern, then south, heading towards the coast. “I’m sad we didn’t stop in Haight-Ashbury,” Mabel yelled across the aisle, drawing annoyed looks from the other commuters.
“Probably best not to get high on a mission,” Zera said with a smile, though her father didn’t like the joke and merely deepened his scowl.
Finally they reached their stop and shuffled past the crowd to get off. They stood in a large parking lot leading to a boulevard of tended trees and shrubs that ended in a ticket office. Zera read a flag posted on a lamppost. “San Francisco Zoo. This is the place?” As far as the three of them could see there was no sign of panic. No people running or screaming. Families and kids lined up at the entrance to buy their tickets so they could gawk at the variety of exotic animals.
“You sure your construct thingy is here?” Mr Pines said doubtfully. He had Journal 6 open and was shaking his head at something in Dipper’s young-adult jottings.
“Gimme a sec.” Mabel pressed her palms together and closed her eyes. Her father looked at her quizzically while she concentrated for a few seconds. A gentle ripple flew out from her and raced across the zoo.
“Well, I’ll be-” Mr Pines was cut off when a rebounding wave passed over him and back to Mabel.
She opened her eyes and grinned. “Oh, it’s here alright.” She had used an aura detection spell, her and Zera’s alternative to Dipper’s technological solution. It had bounced off the tulpa’s mystical field like echolocation. “Can’t narrow it down though. Too many living things messing up the feed.”
“The zoo’s hardly small,” Zera said, peering at the ticket office and coming up with ways to avoid paying for three admissions. She kicked at the concrete. “That thing’s clever though, most cryptids won’t have a hard time blending in here. Without your brother’s tracker we’ll never find it. Like a needle in a haystack.”
“Do they have haystacks in space?” Mr Pines asked, genuinely curious.
Mabel slapped her forehead .”Ugh, I’m a dummy, before we left I should’ve…” She snapped her fingers. “Z, can you open another portal quickly?”
“Not really, transporting another person-“
“Not for me, just a little one,” she whispered her intent and put her palms together. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you a new fish tank for you to snack on when we get home?”
Zera relented and lifted her hands to enact the spell. She visibly strained with the effort, moaning as well, until a small hole opened up in the air, replacing a section of blue sky with floral wallpaper. A coiled rope tumbled out of the portal into Mabel’s arms. Zera dropped her hands and the portal closed with a pop.
“Thank you babe, you’re the best,” Mabel said. Zera, bent double, waved her off like it was nothing.
Mr Pines leant in to figure out Mabel’s plan and examine the rope. At least, he’d thought it was a rope. On closer inspection the rope writhed. “Holy Moses, is that Apep?”
“Yeppers!” Mabel said with a toothy grin. “She’s perfect!”
“Perfect? Are you a total mushuganah?! What good is that lazy reptile gonna be in a massive zoo?”
“She’s got homing instincts.” Both Mr Pines and Zera gave her looks of complete disbelief. “No, really. Apep may not seem like an active, go-getter snake, but she’s got this knack for sniffing out trouble.”
“Isn’t she also a total wimp who bolts at the first sign of risk to her fat, slimy body?” Zera pointed out. She tickled the snake’s chin. The animal wasn’t pleased to be roused from yet another nap today and coiled languorously around Mabel’s arms.
“We just need to give her something to sniff out, trust me.” Mabel held out Journal 3 in front of Apep’s nose. “C’mon girl, smell the scent of conspiracy and musty paper. The tulpas come from the journals, right? So they must have some things in common.”
Apep unexpectedly wriggled to the ground and slithered away. They heard a series of screams vanishing into the distance as she went. Mabel proudly put her hands on her hips and went towards the zoo. “Onwards, Aoshima!”
Zera shrugged at Mr Pines, as if to say, ‘ah, what the hell’, and followed Mabel. Mr Pines waited a moment, shook his head, then quickly walked to catch up with the girls. In the end they managed to achieve entry to the zoo using the flimsy excuse of being expert snake handlers, here to recapture a rare specimen. From the amount of unsettled visitors around the entrance, the ticket sellers were willing to believe the story.
The trio quickly became lost in the sights and sounds of the zoo. Lemurs and Monkeys swung on vines all around them. Across the savannah Zebras and Giraffes idly chewed on grass, while predators hungered greedily a short distance beyond. Each direction led to another great kingdom of animal life and it wasn’t hard to get overwhelmed by the sounds and smells of the rare animals. Despite the chaos of Apep’s release, as well as the possible lurking tulpa, the zoo remained calm, with people merrily going about their way, ignorant of any danger. Mabel had to send out another aura spell to try and pick up Apep’s trail.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I thought there was too much biodiversity in here for that kind of magic mumbo jumbo?”
“It’s different with Apep,” Mabel patiently explained. “She’s like my familiar, I know her essence.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged, desiring nothing more than to be done with this adventure.
The spell’s trace led them to one of the smaller parts of the zoo, a white-brick building on the north side with a central circular window. It sat next to an anteater enclosure and a small ‘prehistoric garden’. Unknowingly, both twins’ parties ended up running into plastic dinosaurs that day. Mabel put on her glasses and examined a sign by the building her spell had bounced off of. “South American Tropical Rainforest and Aviary. Guess we found ‘tulpy’.”
She pushed the door open and the three of them tensed. Mabel made sure her gauntlet was ready for either grappling or darting, while Zera reluctantly whispered protection chants under her breath. She was already exhausted enough, let alone if she had to start making wards and firing offensive spells left and right. Mr Pines raised his fists in a weak show of defiance, but flinched on entering the humid greenhouse. A plumed basilisk lounging on a branch had spooked him with its wide-open eyes.
“That one’s just a regular animal, Dad,” Mabel teased. “Here Apep! Come to momma!” Against the walls of the room were rocky cliffs, and, above their heads, a large fallen tree trunk to add to the jungle-like atmosphere. So did the heat, making the two humans in the room instantly start to sweat.
“Over here.” Zera tiptoed over a low stone wall into a tropical oasis. Lying sunning among the pebbles was one very ‘pleased with herself’ snake. “Oh Apep, you useless desert noodle. Some hunting dog you turned out to be.”
“Aw, maybe she made a mistake.” Mabel said, kneeling on the wall. Apep didn’t resist, lying there waiting to be picked up again without a single thought behind her slitted eyes. Zera edged closer to her pet, pushing past a fern and trying to crouch down. A massive lizard hefted itself out of the foliage and Mabel cried out. “Woah, take it slow.”
“That’s a Komodo dragon!” Her father added, impressed by the size of the thing. The wrinkled creature was 10 feet across and dragging its bulk along the pebbled beach towards Zera. She froze in place, unsure what the best move would be.
“They’re venomous,” Mabel whispered, “back away and- wait a second.” She cocked her head to one side. “Komodo dragons aren’t from South America.”
“So, so what?” Mr Pines said frantically. “You can regale us with reptile trivia later.”
But Mabel had a point. Zera’s eyes widened as a curving sail crest unfurled itself on the back of the ‘dragon’. A small spark of noxious flame shot from the lizard’s nostrils. Zera swallowed and held her ground. She was inches from Apep but didn’t dare move a muscle closer. “Pyrosaur,” she stated. “Apep found our tulpa after all.”
“A juvenile, judging by the pint-size,” Mabel said. “They disappear in moonlight. Don’t suppose anyone thought to bring a full moon in their back pocket? No? Thought not.”
The tulpa-pyrosaur gave no warning as it leapt towards Zera, spewing fire in a spray ahead of itself. She dived for Apep then twirled to jump out of the way just as the fire singed her back. Steam rose from her skin, which had already been unreasonably dry. Zera rolled over, unable to stand and dropped Apep.
Mabel reflexively fired her grapple gauntlet - not aiming the tranquiliser at the pyrosaur, but sending a line to her partner. Zera feebly held on and let the cable drag her upright and out of range of the pyrosaur’s lunging teeth.
“Jehosophat!” Mr Pines cursed. He bundled Mabel towards the exit. Zera wobbled on her feet but managed to stay upright, while Apep serpentined out into daylight at a speed that outran all of them.
By now the tulpa had changed forms, going from a convincing reptilian to starkly technological. A floating cube launched itself past the group into the sky before dropping down towards a nearby exhibit. Mabel watched it descend and come down with a splash. She traced it and saw its destination was a new attraction at the zoo. “A Wonderland of Snow and Sea,” she intoned. “More Christmas theming.”
The area was decorated with large blue and white plastic approximating ice sheets. On rocky platforms around a meandering river sat polar bears on one island and a flock of emperor penguins on the other. Powerful air conditioners operating at full blast plummeted the temperature down. Mabel and her father soon forgot the sweat from the reptile house. Snow machines added a final touch of ambience, sprinkling them with fake paper chunks.
Supporting Zera on one arm, Mabel held a hand to block the sun glinting off the white plastic and scanned the new area. It must be a recent exhibition, full of transfers from zoos in colder climes. There wasn’t any trace of their wayward tulpa.
“No sign of it. Nothing. Bupkis.” Mr Pines had summed it up quite well. Mabel slumped down beside the riverbank and pursed her lips.
Only Zera’s spirits were lifted. “This is more like it. I’m going for a swim!” She pecked Mabel on the cheek, then ran towards the freezing water. Mr Pines watched amazed as she leapt in headfirst without even stopping to take her clothes off.
“She needs to rehydrate,” Mabel quietly explained. Apep slithered up next to her on the bank and stared into her eyes as if pleading to be sent back home through the same witchcraft that had whisked her out of comfort. Mabel stroked the animal, wishing she could provide for its wants. “You did good, girl,” she whispered, “sorry we blew your lead.”
Mr Pines looked around the enclosure and sat himself next to his daughter. “At least she did better than the blasted pig ever could.”
“Waddles is special too, in his own unique, piggy way.” Mabel pulled her legs in tight and slumped her head on her knees. “It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to be thrown in the deep end like this.” Mr Pines realised she was talking about himself and the sudden discoveries he and his wife had made. “I didn’t get a chance to say it before, we were in such a rush to fix things. Dipper even had this whole ‘slow reveal’ plan with the journals.” Mabel placed Journal 3 on the shingle.
Mr Pines opened the book to a page near the back. Mabel’s own handwriting was scrawled on the page in pastel crayon, talking about unicorns and protective shield enchantments. The cartoonish doodles she’d drawn were a reminder of how very young his children had been when they started all of this. When they’d started lying. He sighed. “I know why Dipper lied. Boy’s the most anxious kid known to mankind. But why you, Mabel? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I wanted to,” she said, looking away and picking up handfuls of pebbles to slip through her fingers. “I wrote you a letter and everything during our first summer away. But we passed it off as my wacky imagination.” She threw away the rocks so they splashed in the river. “Then Dipper got talking about hiding the truth, and I was only supporting him at first. Eventually I got thinking that what he said made sense. I didn’t want to lose out on our amazing lives chasing monsters either, I mean, what teenager would! It got hidden the same way I hid all my boyfriends and girlfriends. I’ve always had trouble adjusting to change, especially when it’s in my hands to decide.” Her shoulders tensed. “Dad, do you or Mom know what I’ve been up to the past few years?”
“Oh, you mean the ‘activism’.” Mr Pines made quote marks with his fingers. “Sure, we know all about that?”
“But, like, how much do you know? I’ve not exactly been following the law 100% of the time.”
Mr Pines snorted. “Come on, you can say it. You’ve been a notorious criminal.” Mabel seemed surprised but he shook his head. “Heck May, it’s not like we could avoid seeing your name and face crop up on the news every few months. All those protests and strikes across the country, and there was our little girl, every time.”
“Trying to make the world a better place one step at a time. If you knew, why didn’t you bring it up before now?”
“And ruin the Christmas mood? We didn’t want to cause a scene.”
He seemed appalled by the idea and Mabel couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, our family is crap at direct communication.”
“Mabel!” he admonished. “That was certainly direct language.”
She was still grinning. “No, but it’s true. Stan and Ford, me’n Dipper, we can’t help but be stupid about talking to each other. We bury our real feelings until we fall apart. Maybe we should all stop caring so much about nebulous future consequences and live a little, you know?”
“Can I ask, what about Zera? Is she… like you?”
“What do you mean, Dad? Is she an expert knitter, does she like cute kittens, is she equally hot and sexy?”
He shoved her away playfully. “You know what I mean pumpkin. Does she go out of her way to help people and cause trouble with the police like you’re always getting up to?”
“Well, she does the latter. I’m working on the former; she’s very keen.” Mabel spied her wife swimming backstroke by a pair of bemused polar bears. “Zera’s been along for the ride on a lot of our recent adventures. I trust her fully with my life. Though not necessarily my wallet. Do you wanna know how we really met? Zera tried to scam me out of a giant crystal in Japan. She pretended to be the last of her kind.”
“And, that wasn’t true?”
“Heck no, far from it. All lies. But she cared about me, and we bonded, and now everything’s amazing. Maybe we can forget all the lying between us, too?” Mabel stared imploringly at her father.
He grinned. “Hey, I’m just sad how much I missed out on. You’ve been to space, saved the world, had all these insane things happen. Most of all I missed getting to walk my little girl down the aisle.” Mabel hugged him tight, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “I suppose this is all my fault, when you think about it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was the one who suggested that you and Dipper should spend a summer up north. I remembered all the fun I had in Gravity Falls - swimming in the lake, wandering the forest trails - and figured you’d get something out of it too. I thought it would be character building, sending you all alone and having you work for Uncle Stan like I did, with no technology to rely on.”
Mabel gave a small laugh. “You realise we had smartphones back then, dad?”
“Yeah yeah, I know, stardust. I thought the trip would be one big adventure. I guess I underestimated quite how big. I mean, it makes sense. My job is so boring, anything outside my comfort zone feels like a major step.”
“You’re not doing so bad so far,” Mabel said, pleased to have made some small way towards repairing their rift.
“Your mother might take longer to come around though. Mary doesn’t change her mind swiftly.”
“Nor does Dipper,” Mabel said, chuckling.
At that moment, Zera swam up to them. She rested her arms on the riverbank and flashed them a smile. “Well well, what exotic animals do we have here? Primates from the southwest USA if I’m not mistaken?” Her clothes, from her pullover vest to her plaid skirt and boots, were all soaking wet. Zera didn’t seem to mind. She was about to climb onto the bank when she suddenly jerked backwards.
Mabel shot to her feet as Zera felt another tug and splashed under the water. She emerged again, waving her arms and spluttering. Her perception filter flickered on and off, flashing between human and alien. With one hand she clung onto the beach. “My leg!” She closed her eyes and pulled with all her might but it was no use. She was dragged inexorably under the water.
“Can she breathe under there?” Mr Pines said, jumping to his feet and searching wildly for a life preserver.
“I’m not waiting to find out.” Mabel gulped in a breath of air and dived in after Zera. The water chilled her skin and the extra weight absorbed by her clothes began to weigh heavily. Zera was reaching for the surface and being continuously pulled down. The water was clear enough for Mabel to make out a long, slimy tentacle wrapped around one of her legs. She let out a stream of bubbles as she gasped in shock. An octopus-like mass resided on the riverbed. It had a golden sheen.
Pressed for time, Mabel aimed her wrist at the creature and flicked her wrist. The tranquiliser dart moved slowly through the water towards the lovecraftian abomination, striking lucky and causing the beast to flail its tentacles. Zera was freed from its grip but a stray tentacle hit her on the forehead. Stunned, she floated lifelessly in the murk. Mabel launched her grappling hook and tied it around Zera’s arms. She kicked out and broke the surface. Sucking in air, she slapped her arms in the water to swim towards the bank. She was grateful when her father pulled her, and Zera tangled in the cable, out onto dry land.
“Oh man, that’s not gonna do much for my headache,” Zera said wearily, rolling onto her back. “It was bad enough before.”
“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Mabel said, squeezing her hand.
“Look out!” Mr Pines cried. Tentacles heaved the massive dripping body of the tulpa out of the water. They picked themselves up and cleared the beach. The octopus’ movements were clumsy, wobbling and unsteady out of the water Mabel saw her dart sticking out of the flank and knew that the sedative inside was getting to work, sapping the tulpa of its energy. They only had to hold out until it finally relented.
The tulpa glowed and shrunk considerably, turning into a human-sized waffle with a face and beefy arms. “Hey, that’s a Mabel-copyrighted design!” Zera and her father remained baffled by the sight. It didn’t stay in this form for long. After using its arms to pull itself upright, the tulpa dissolved into a swarm of small dome-shaped shells which scattered and darted past their legs. Mabel tried to grab one of the components but it vibrated and sank a few inches into the ground to slip past. The swarm coalesced once it had passed them, choosing a form suited for escape - a winged griffin.
“Oh no you don’t!” Mabel yelled, firing another grappling line at the tulpa’s lion rear. She fell onto her face and was pulled uncomfortably along. Zera leaped beside her and also clutched the trailing cable. Mabel fiddled with her wrist gauntlet until they were suddenly yanked forwards by the mechanism. They managed to land on the tulpa’s back, riding it like an ungainly mount and keeping it grounded for now.
A wooden structure loomed ahead of them. “Watch out for the earthquake shack!” Mr Pines called. The shack that had stood since 1906 toppled over onto its side and the creature thundered past. Mr Pines jogged after them, Apep tangled up in his arms and hissing at him.
Mabel and Zera clung to the griffin, at the part where fur turned to feathers. The wings flapped, sending them gliding over the heads of tourists who were only now aware of the chaos that had been unleashed. With the extra weight from the couple the griffin could barely stay airborne. It adjusted its thrust, flapping its wings harder to achieve a clean lift.
“No, bad griffin! Bad tulpa! Bad ‘sketch from Ford’s journal’! Stop struggling!” Mabel pulled on the feathery head of the creature to no effect. She tried punching the beast with heavy blows, courtesy of her boxing training with Stan, but to no reaction. The sedative was already making the tulpa sluggish and it shrugged off any feeling of pain. It lurched onwards, cresting over the edge of the zoo’s boundary and heading towards the open sea. The setting sun cast an orange glare in their eyes.
“Hold your breath again!” Zera shouted over the rush of air. The griffin dived at the water and carried them both under. It submerged for only a moment before launching back out. Mabel coughed up salt water and rubbed her stinging eyes, while Zera didn’t seem to suffer compared to fresh water. “That’s enough!” Zera bent over and sank her teeth into the griffin’s flank, right above the lion’s tail. Mabel had learnt from close experience that her wife sported a pair of retractable fangs - she’d only found that fact out at the climax of one of their first dates.
Their flight peeled off, following the coast north. The two of them gasped as the imposing might of the Golden Gate Bridge came into view. Zera panicked, but Mabel made what seemed like an insane move. She gripped the tulpa’s head and steered it towards the looming red support beam. “Get ready to jump!”
Zera’s muscles tensed. A moment before the tulpa struck metal she launched herself backwards, doing a pirouette in the air before diving into the ocean. Zera stuck her head out of the water just in time to see Mabel going the opposite way. She fired her grappling hook upwards and swung off the back of the griffin. Out of control, the dazed beast flew headfirst into the support beam. It crumpled against the metal, warping and shifting as most of its body mass melted away. It ended up taking the shape of a small key. Mabel knew this was the President’s Key, able to open locks across the country.
Up above she perched on the edge of a tiny ledge jutting out of the metal. She launched one last shot downwards, grabbing the key in mid air before it was lost in the ocean. She retracted the line and held the tulpa’s inanimate form triumphantly in the air. She cheered down at Zera and began laughing hysterically. “Did you see that? We nearly got killed by a bridge. Woah, this is higher than I realised.” Mabel began to wobble on the platform, slowly falling over. “Vertigo, vertigoing, vertigone.” She held a hand to her forehead and theatrically fell off the ledge.
Zera rolled her eyes down below and aimed an outstretched hand and her over-dramatic wife. “Razzamafoo!” she said, aiming a beam of light at Mabel, who vanished and reappeared in the water next to her in a puff of smoke.
“I knew you’d save me,” Mabel said, grinning like a loon.
Zera touched her forehead with the back of her palm. “The adrenaline’s gone to your head. That’s the last time I use any teleportation magic around you. You’re a menace, May Pines.”
“You know you love me for it.” Despite the cold and wet they kissed while floating in the ocean. Mabel wrapped her arms around Zera, afraid to let go. “I mean it. I love you, Zera.” Mabel didn’t want to be anywhere other than alone in the wide ocean, wrapped in that embrace with the woman she’d married. “So,” she said almost deliriously. “Can you breathe underwater or what?” Zera just burst into giggles.
Atop the bridge a small crowd of onlookers were watching the two of them. Mr Pines pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “Oh thank goodness!”
The two of them in the water turned their heads. “Hey Dad!” Mabel shouted and waved.
“Are you two going to get out?”
Mabel looked Zera in the eye. “I don’t know about you, but a cup of hot cocoa on dry land sounds so good right about now.”
A few minutes later they’d swum to the shoreline, mostly thanks to Zera’s powerful kicks through the water. She was much better adapted for swimming than Mabel, who clung to her wife and let her do most of the work. They rendezvoused with Mr Pines, who’d found some towels for them to dry off. Mabel had even got her precious cocoa, provided by the zoo.
Mr Pines didn’t seem happy with himself, pacing around the parking lot while the girls watched the sunset over the ocean. “I wasn’t much help. I could hardly save the day with bug reports or hacking skills,” he scoffed. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this hero business.”
“No-one’s asking you to be,” Mabel said cheerily. “We only wanted you know what our crazy lives are like. You don’t have to become a full-time participant.”
“I think he did an admirable job at least,” Zera confirmed. She shook his hand and raised a small smile at least.
Mabel examined the golden key she’d retrieved, feeling its weight in her palm. A few tiny particles of golden light floated above its surface. “If the others have caught their tulpa, then it’s two down, one to go.”
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All The Normal People
When a new neighbour pays a nosy visit, Ethan and Jane are reminded of how normal they're supposed to be.
Featuring: Ethan Ramsey, Jane Fletcher, Millicent Trout (OC) from Open Heart.
Word Count: 1.9k | No Warnings (Slight Mentions of Queerphobia)/General | Post Book-3
Mrs Trout had just occupied the house on Park Street; all packed up and ready when she heard a disturbing noise from the other house.
She'd been warned of houses like them. Of course, her only ever reason to move from the busy streets of San Francisco, USA to her hometown in Ontario, Canada was to get a bit of peace and quiet. And perhaps rekindle her relationship with Derry Lou, her former college partner; given that Derry was now an automotive worker with silver and pepper hair and he had a dead wife. Mrs Trout was happy.
Except for the noise. The loud shrill sound as if someone was hitting a guitar against a wall. Or something else. Mrs Trout had heard scandalous things before, when she'd occupied that two-bedroom apartment in a millennials-only flat. She'd gotten away with it, of course. But the noise wasn't pleasing at all.
She marched down to the house next to hers and instantly felt this eerie feeling of dread. The house was situated in such a way that reminded Mrs Trout of those old vampire tales. The roofs were sloping and neat, with sharp edges. A huge statue of a gargoyle in the front added to the gothic stature of the building and the dead trees and the overgrown grass only made it worse. Suddenly Mrs Trout didn't feel the need to complain.
At the same time, she wanted her casserole. Everyone in the Park Street Neighbourhood had been so kind, that she had two dinners already sorted. This house, however, didn't even pop in to say hi. Or provide Mrs Trout with a welcome dish as a nice present. It was how it worked and Mrs Trout was a glutton for justice and order; no matter how frivolous it might be.
She knocked on the door. No answer. She rang the doorbell. Still no answer. She decided to yell out a name. A random name. Something like John! Or something, to grasp their attention. Still, no answer. Mrs Trout waited and waited, before she gave the doorbell one last ring.
The door swung open and it was the strangest thing Mrs Trout had ever seen since the Fraternity Party of 2008.
There was a woman. A regular one. She wore a black shirt and a pair of acceptable jeans and she was too tall. Just too tall. Mrs Trout had to crane her neck to get a glimpse of her face. And the woman's face wasn't very young, nor was it terribly old. She wore a pair of 3D glasses to hide her eyes and there was a sleek bass guitar slung across her chest.
"Hello. How may I help you?"
Mrs Trout was convinced she'd smoked something odd. Something green and happy, probably. She sniffed, inhaled her own breath and came to the conclusion that no, she wasn't really delusional, rather her neighbours were just a bunch of intolerant little freaks.
"I'm Millicent Trout. I've recently moved in here."
"Oh. Good to meet you."
There was no cheerful "hello!" There was no "Oh my God! That's so cool!" . There was not even a slight hint of surprise on her face. She nodded strictly and bore a rather unpleasant smile, which was impossible. Either she had never smiled in her life; to the point where she sort of assumed grinning like a chipmunk counted as one, or she was just being extremely passive-aggressive.
"I'm Jane."
"Oh – so you're alone here, Jane?"
"No. My partner's out in the back."
The woman also had a sharp clean pixie cut and well-trimmed nails. Millicent Trout didn't want to assume, but at the same time, she didn't want just about everyone to meddle in her affairs.
"So – erm – where is he?" She assumed.
"Making wine."
"Making – I'm sorry?"
"Should I fetch him? Do you know him?"
"Know who?"
"Ethan Ramsey. Sort of snobby. Very unpleasant sometimes, but makes fairly decent breakfast."
Millicent stared.
"Only joking! I enjoy his company! Even though he can be a bit of a stupid-head from time to time. Either way, he's a doctor. Sort of. Now he isn't. Works as a professor in a university. You would've probably seen him in the papers, or across social media. No wonders he's scared of the beach. One mention and he's ready to jump into a well. And I mean that, by the way. Literally."
The sound of Jane's loud talking drew an equally taller man to the front door. He was dressed in gardening gear - cargo jeans, socks without the boots on and a sunhat. He shook his head at Jane, as if he was always the one picking up social cues after her and invited Millicent in, on behalf of her.
Instantly Mrs Trout caught hold of the dynamic. They looked old but not terribly old. Somewhere in their early forties; ready to jump in at any given moment. (She was sixty three and hated loud noises.) The man seemed wonderful, good-looking, attractive, at the very least and the woman - well, she wasn't terrible, that was about it. She looked like she'd been dropped on the head one too many times. Terrible. Terrible. Just terrible. The man clearly seemed to deserve a bit better and the woman - god.
Everything about her was messed up. From her eyes - one grey, one brown, to her face and just her general hunched up, lanky appearance as if she'd been starving for a long time. 3D glasses? Childish. The guitar only added to the utter ridiculousness.
The man was fine, except he looked like he'd been hit by a truck of everything. As if he found no meaning in the world and resorted to blatant wine-making. With a physique of that of a homeless magician, Mrs Trout knew that the correspondence these two shared wasn't going to last long.
Who was the responsible one?
"So, how are you liking it here, Mrs Trout?"
"Oh it's been easy these days. I've been hopping on to new trains, taxing my way through this – life and – well, someday my grandkids would want to come here and cherish this house that I own." Mrs Trout said, opening her phone and with her index finger, scrolling down slowly and maturely until she found a picture. "This is my darling little Greta. And that's my little grandson! Tim. Greta's got another one coming in three months."
"Very happy for her. They're adorable– people." Ethan asserted, serving up some warm tea.
"What about you? No kids?"
"Well, the parent life isn't for us, I suppose. But we are godparents to our friends' children."
"Shame. Kids are everything these days. Who's going to take after you, when you – retire?"
"Nobody." Jane piped up.
"It's never too late."
"Well, we are simply not interested because children can be ghastly and tough to maintain and we'd rather not do that and give our – hypothetical child a neglectful upbringing."
A pause.
"Not good?" Jane whispered, so low that even Mrs Trout's gossip-starved ears couldn't grasp the words.
"A bit, no. Can I take this?"
"This isn't going to end well."
There was an even longer pause, as the three of them resorted to simply consuming their beverages in silence. Until Mrs Trout brought up the subject of marriage, because she was a woman who liked that sort of thing and meddling in people's businesses. Of course, it wasn't good but at least she made a nice hobby out of it. If her band of conniving neighbourhood gossip-mongers and her could be called a witty band-name or something, it'd probably be Milly And The Big Mouths.
"I don't see many wedding photos here."
"Because we didn't have a wedding." Jane said. Ethan instantly coughed to grab her attention.
"Didn't have a wedding?"
"It's an interesting story, actually." Ethan said, not knowing how on earth could he possibly take this conversation.
"Really? I love interesting stories! Please, by all means, elaborate."
"Erm –" Now Ethan was obligated to talk about it. It was the law. When someone asked something, he had to answer. Sometimes he didn't have to, but Mrs Trout meant well. She was judgy and crude and her tone was unsettling, but he'd had neighbours like that. There was nothing new. He'd have to get her something to eat, exchange some boring meet-cute stories and let her off, so she'd never bother them again.
Jane beat him to it instead.
"There was a diner and I got down on one knee in a parking lot, with paperwork in one hand and told him marriage was terrible and we'd be horrible at it, so why not try common-law partnership? And he said yes and we both shared a jalapeno and cheese sandwich. The end."
There was an awkward moment.
"That certainly is very – very romantic. And a bit – different than what I was used to."
"Is it good or bad?" Jane said.
"Normal, I suppose. The normal kind. Of course, if I were you, I'd have gotten my husband to propose in a fancy restaurant. It's very classic. You can't go wrong with them. And – a common law partnership? Erm – exciting! You must've had a ceremony, at least!"
Jane's mind went Why. Why. WHY. Ethan was already halfway dead.
"My Greta married the love of her life at thirty two. They've gotten a vacation home in Miami. She's been around the world ever since. Colorado. Denver. California. She's got homes everywhere! And it all started because she had a lovely wedding and started early. How long – has it been since your marriage?"
"Common-law partnership." Jane corrected.
"Yes. That."
"About – two years?"
"And you're both old!"
The two shared a long look.
"Time is running out, my dears. It's hard, I understand, but you're missing out on the joys of life! Little girls dream of such things! A wedding. A Prince Charming. A house. Children! Now what on earth will you do?"
"We – are not normal, are we?" Jane asked, strumming her mid-life crisis bass guitar as she walked into the grapevine where Ethan was busy foraging, with a mountain of books next to him.
"Is this about the woman next door? You don't have to think about it."
"No I don't. But – she's – okay. She's got some point, eh?"
"How so?"
"It just occurred to me that everyone else but us got a hang of this adulting thing. Jackie, Sienna, Bryce, Rafael.. everyone's married now or at least en route to marriage. Even Tobias is doing something for himself. Putting himself first. Even Aurora. She's writing a book! And my brother."
"What about Hugo?"
"Hugo and Otto are adopting. My little brother is going through adoption to raise a child. My brother! The same person whom I had to drag out of the closet - literally, because he didn't want to eat his dinner. How – how on Earth did everyone sort of grow up? Did I miss a class?"
"Sometimes –" Ethan patted an empty space next to him. Jane occupied the seat. "It is – difficult and sometimes I wonder if I'm doing something right. But look at us. Are you happy?"
"There's a guitar upstairs and plenty of chocolate. I like my job. And there are no people. I'm happy."
"I remember talking to my therapist about this. She said that it didn't matter what kind of life you choose to lead. It's how you shape it in a way that maximises your happiness. That gives you comfort and convenience, but challenges you. There's no one format for life. There's absolutely no need to settle down, get a 9-5 job and die with a garage full of boxes and papers. As long as you meet your needs, you have something to look forward to everyday and you think this is it. This is who I am meant to be. Something – something – happiness, chuckling, happiness, joy – blah, blah. You get it."
"When you were young, did you wish for this? A wedding of some sort. A job? Some – person you can spend your life with? Something like that?" Jane asked.
"No. I wanted to become a dragon, actually. With the scales and the fire. What about you? Did you expect a Prince and/or Princess Charming to greet your way?"
"None either. Now that I think about it, the only reason I got into medicine was because I could have a bit of fun. I liked frogs. And fictional characters in long spiky coats with sonic screwdrivers in their pockets and a big blue box for company."
The two exchanged a chuckle before leaning against the bricked wall.
"Taste this." Ethan insisted, pouring her a glass of a red drink.
"Tastes like crap. Did you add something? There's this – synthetic thing I can taste – so nauseatingly bleugh."
"I've got to control the fermentation then. Perhaps leave it out for longer or pick fresh grapes instead." Ethan wrote it down in his journal. "All right. I'm off to the farmer's market. Need anything?"
"A cube of cheese and a new guitar pick, if you're swinging by the bric-a-brac store."
"How bad did it go?" Ethan grimaced.
"Turns out "Back in Black" isn't a very good first song to start with. I should stick to some simple cords. Like – oh I dunno, something a little less violent."
"All right. Guitar pick. Cheese. Milk. Fresh orange juice. And that's it. See you in fifteen minutes!"
"Tot snel! And drive safely!"
A/N : I hope you enjoyed this!
In my headcanon, I've always pictured Jane and Ethan as an non-touchy/feely couple. They love and cherish each other but they aren't very showy. Both of their love languages are quality time, but at the same time, they also do some of their best work alone. Ethan ends up constricting his own homemade brewery at home and Jane dabbles in some rock and roll.
("Tot snel" means "See you!" in Dutch)
Thank you so much for reading!
Tag List:
Perma: @peonierose @tessa-liam @quixoticdreamer16
OH only: @cariantha @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter
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Walking around Valparaiso
This town is great, actually! Yesterday we were too tired to have a good time, and also turns out that where we’re staying just isn’t very nice. But the rest of it is great!
We met up with a walking tour this morning, since that’s a good way to get the feel of a new city, and had a great time. We did a lot of waking up and down steep narrow alleys and stairs and a little bit of taking funiculars. There’s street art everywhere and buildings of every kind of style built every kind of place and a harbor full of all kinds of boat chaos and there’s the big beautiful Pacific out behind it all. We keep trying to think of what other places this town is like, and our best guesses so far is a little bit of San Francisco (weather, steep hills, big port) and a little bit of Lisbon (dry hilly surroundings, buildings stacked in everywhere). But it’s pretty unique!
Cool and foggy this morning, and stayed pretty cool all day.
Valparaiso was a prosperous port city for most of the 1800s and the early 1900s, both from trade in and out of Chile and because most ships would call in to Valparaiso after rounding Cape Horn. When the Panama Canal was built it lost a lot of its wealth. So these days it’s a pretty cheap place to live, which is great for the artists and students who fill it with street art.
Valparaiso also has had significant communities of Europeans in different areas, which shows up in the architecture. There are a lot of Georgian houses up on the hills, since there was a big British presence here in the early 1800s.
This slope next to the stairs used to be for doing laundry on. These days it’s a slide!
Apparently the risers of stairs are considered fair game for muralizing, even more so than other surfaces. So there are lots of painted staircases.
Our tour finished at the one spot you can get down to the waterfront here (most of it is closed off since it’s a working port). There was this incredible boat chaos scene of people vying for tourists to go take a ride around the harbor in their boat. We didn’t partake because we had other boat plans: we were off to the MARITIME MUSEUM.
Walking back up another of Valparaiso’s 42 hills to get to the museum.
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Car Crashes Through Overlook and Plunges To Street Below- Then it Gets Weird!
CCTV captures a speeding car in San Francisco careening off a cliff followed by crashing into trees on the slope, flipping over and hitting a final tree on the sidewalk before resting upside down on the street.
The fact that there were no deaths or serious injuries to car passengers of pedestrians is nothing short of miraculous. The trees played a big role in breaking the momentum and fall of…
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“St. Louis Alley – Chinatown San Francisco,” 1898. (Painting by J.H.E. Partington from a private collection).
St. Louis Alley and Chinatown’s Colorful Past
To the Chinese of old San Francisco Chinatown, St. Louis Alley or Place was known as 聖路易巷 (canto: “Sing Low Yick Hong”). The origin of its alternate name, 火燒巷 (canto: “Faw Siu Hong”; lit. “Fire Lane”) may have been coined because of the occurrence of numerous fires in the alley.
“Court in Chinatown San Francisco,” 1886. Painting by Edwin Deakin (from the collection of the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, Bequest of Edith Clark Mau). This painting has been identified elsewhere as St. Louis Alley, and its general features appear to match an illustration by J.H.E. Partington made a dozen years later. Partington’s image depicted a steeper street incline, consistent with Jackson Street’s east-to-west slope.
Theresa Salazar of The Bancroft Alley wrote about St. Louis Alley as follows:
“One of the most fascinating collections at The Bancroft Library are the scrapbooks compiled by Jesse Brown Cook, who served in the San Francisco Police Department from the late 1880s to the 1930s. Before the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake and Fire he was the sergeant of the "Chinatown Squad," which patrolled Chinatown. His scrapbooks document life there, from the everyday activities of its immigrant inhabitants to the more exotic and forbidden conduct behind its hidden, secretive inner walls. Cook went on to serve as Chief of Police after the 1906 earthquake and was later appointed to the Police Commission. In his reminiscences about San Francisco's Chinatown before the earthquake, he provides descriptions and anecdotes about the names given by the Chinese community, including St. Louis Alley: ‘Duncan [Duncombe] Alley is off Jackson Street, below Stockton, and is known as Fay Chie Hong, or ‘Fat Boy Alley.’ This was named after a young boy living on the street who, at fifteen years, weighed about 240 pounds. A little way below, on the opposite side of the street, was St. Louis Alley. In the early days of Chinatown there was a large fire in the alley which burned up quite a number of houses. The Chinese, therefore, called it ‘fire alley,’ or ‘Fo Sue Hong’" (San Francisco Police and Peace Officers'’ Journal, June 1931).
Prior to the quake and fire of 1906, St. Louis Alley could be accessed from Jackson Street in the heart of San Francisco's Chinatown. Starting at Jackson Street, St. Louis Alley extended southward, running parallel to Dupont Street and Ross Alley for a portion of its length. In the middle of the city block, the alley made a left turn to the east, becoming narrower while leading towards Dupont Street where it terminated between stores occupying 921 and 923 Dupont.
“Shop in Chinatown SF Cal.” c. 1892 - 1895. Photographer unknown (from the collection of the San Francisco History Center of the San Francisco Public Library). A boy stands outside the Tuck On Long & Co. (德安隆; canto: “Duck On Loong”) general merchandise store located at 921 Dupont Street in old San Francisco Chinatown. The history of this shop, situated at the left side of the entrance to St. Louis Alley from Dupont Street, has been lost to historical memory. However, the identification of the business (a.k.a. “Tuck On Lung”) is made possible by the appearance of the three-character Chinese signage seen above the boy standing in the entrance to the store. The Chinese name was traced to the Horn Hong & Co. directory of 1892 with cross-referencing to the San Francisco Municipal Reports of 1892 (p. 172) and the 1895 Langley directory’s Chinese business listings. Barely visible along the right edge of the frame is a partial view of the corner and northern side of the building facing the narrow passageway of St. Louis Alley which ran east to west from Dupont Street between the buildings located at 921 and 923 Dupont (before a 90-degree turn right in the mid-block to the north toward Jackson Street.
Detail from the Official Map of Chinatown from July 1885 commissioned by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors (from the Cooper Chow collection of the Chinese Historical Society of America).
“A High Binder, San Luis Alley, San Francisco, Cal.” c. 1902. Photographer unknown (from the Cooper Chow collection at the Chinese Historical Society of America). The photo’s title was derived from its appearance on page 17 of the January 1902 issue of the Railroad Trainmen's Journal, a union publication. (see here) Given the narrowness of the alleyway shown in the photo, one can surmise that the photo was taken with an easterly view from the alleyway toward its terminus on the 900-block of Dupont Street, with a lookout man posted at an entrance to a longtime gambling den on the south side of the alleyway or the right of the photo.
This configuration of St. Louis Alley placed it strategically in close proximity to the bustling main thoroughfare of Chinatown, allowing easy access to the various shops, businesses, and other establishments that populated the area.
As the city’s 1885 map depicts, those other establishments on St. Louis Alley included at least several gambling operations which figured prominently in the life of the alley, as well as in other parts of Chinatown. The gambling houses offered to a largely bachelor society a variety of games such as fan-tan, poker, and mahjong as places of entertainment and recreation.
“Gambling Den at San Francisco,” no date. Illustrator unknown (from a private collection). Fan-Tan, or fantan (traditional Chinese: 番攤; pinyin: fāntān; Jyutping: faan1 taan1; lit. 'repeated divisions') is a gambling game long played in China. It is a game of pure chance. The game is played by placing two handfuls of small objects on a board and guessing the remaining count when divided by four. After players have cast bets on values of 1 through 4, the dealer or croupier repeatedly removes four objects from the board until only one, two, three or four beans remain, determining the winner. The name "fantan" emerged in the mid-nineteenth century, prior to which the game was referred to as "掩錢" (yǎnqián) meaning "covering coins," "攤戲" (tānxì), "攤錢" (tānqián), or "意錢" (yìqián). It gained prominence during the Late Qing and Republican period in Canton and the Pearl River Delta region. Following 1850, due to substantial Cantonese emigration, fantan found its way overseas, including America, where it became particularly popular among Chinese migrants, primarily of Cantonese origin.
Jacob Riis, in his famous book about the underbelly of New York, How the Other Half Lives (1890), wrote of entering a Chinatown fan-tan parlor:
"At the first foot-fall of leather soles on the steps the hum of talk ceases, and the group of celestials, crouching over their game of fan tan, stop playing and watch the comer with ugly looks. Fan tan is their ruling passion." The large Chinatown in San Francisco was also home to dozens of fan-tan houses in the 19th century. The city's former police commissioner Jesse B. Cook wrote that in 1889 Chinatown had 50 fan-tan games, and that "in the 50 fan tan gambling houses the tables numbered from one to 24, according to the size of the room."
“Tan Gamblers Surprised” no date. Photograph by Sam Cheney Partridge.
The San Francisco Call newspaper on July 25, 1899, described one well-known gambling parlor as follows:
“On St. Louis alley, six doors from the corner of Jackson street, is a tall building with heavily barred windows and massive doors. This is the home of the Fook Tai lottery and so certain is this company that it can violate the law with impunity that its doors are wide open and throngs of Chinamen pass in and out, buying tickets and watching the daily drawings. St. Louis alley is a narrow runway which winds around from Jackson to Dupont street – so narrow that four people can scarcely walk abreast through it. Go there between 9 and 10 o’clock in the evening and the alley will be found so crowded with Chinamen that it is almost impossible to force a passage way through. These Chinamen are there for the purpose of purchasing tickets to the drawing which takes place at 10 o’clock. There is no attempt to disguise the nature of the place, and while white men are barred by the man at the head of the stairs it is not a difficult matter for a white man to so disguise himself that he will be admitted.”
“Fook Tai Lottery Office,” as drawn for a news article in the San Francisco Call newspaper of July 25, 1899.
Prostitution was another unfortunate reality in St. Louis Alley and the broader Chinatown district. Chinese immigrant women, often lured or forced into the trade, worked in brothels or as street prostitutes. They faced exploitation and lived in deplorable conditions, driven by economic hardships and limited opportunities for respectable employment. The presence of brothels and the commercial sex trade underscored the difficult circumstances faced by Chinese women and the social inequalities prevalent during that time.
A report from the July 25, 1897, edition of the San Francisco Call was typical for this era in Chinatown’s history:
Two Chinese girls under 16 “Kept as slaves in a vile house on St. Louis alley” The Society for the Protection of Children
“St. Louis alley is one of those blind alleys so numerous in Chinatown, and is especially adapted to the hiding of girls. It runs in from Jackson street toward Washington, but stops half way and joins a cross alley, known as Nun Kuk alley, which runs in from Dupont street. These two alleys are a various levels, and it is necessary to ascend and descend several short flights of steps in traversing them. At the junction are piles of lumber and debris of various kinds. The entire alley is lined with dens of different kinds, and communication by electric bells is had from house to house. When the raid was made these bells could be distinctly heard ringing in the other houses and lights went out as if shut off by an electric switch-board.”
Fortunately, artist Charles Albert Rogers captured a pair of scenes of everyday life in the small L-shaped street.
“Chinese Carpenter at Work, St. Louis Alley, 1901.” Painting by Charles Albert Rogers (from the collection of the Bancroft Library). Based on newspaper descriptions, the carpentry shop in St. Louis Alley was located at the junction of St. Louis Alley with the narrow east-west passageway which connected the alley with Dupont Street. Theresa Salazar, a curator for The Bancroft Library, has written about this painting as follows: “Charles Albert Rogers chooses a more serene moment for his painting, depicting a sole Chinese artisan at work. The view of the alley accurately captures Chinatown's makeshift buildings, which were typical of structures predating the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, reflecting not only quick rebuilding after the numerous fires that plagued the city, but the rapid growth of the area in the second half of the nineteenth century.”
“Chinese Kitchen, St. Louis Alley,” 1902. Painting by Charles Albert Rogers (from the collection of the Bancroft Library). The kitchen shown in Rogers’ painting might have been the same kitchen shown on the city’s 1885 map at the west end of the alleyway from Dupont Street before the small street turned north toward Jackson Street. The 1901 telephone directory for the Chinese phone exchange shows at least one Chinese restaurant located in St. Louis Alley.
“No Likee” c. 1896 -1906. Photograph by Arnold Genthe (from the Genthe photograph collection, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division). According to historian Jack Tchen, this photo supposedly is “looking north toward Jackson Street. Many migrant workers lodged here during the off seasons. The man in the foreground is shielding his face from the camera, obviously uncomfortable with a stranger taking his picture.”
The devastating earthquake and subsequent fire that struck San Francisco on April 18, 1906, brought widespread destruction to Chinatown, including St. Louis Alley. The neighborhood was ravaged, and much of its infrastructure was reduced to rubble. However, the short stretch of north-south alleyway was rebuilt at its original location in the community’s rush to reestablish itself in the same location before the city could move its Chinese population elsewhere. When entered from its northern end on Jackson Street, the alley dead-ends in the middle of the block, as its east-west passageway to Grant Avenue was built over.
St. Louis Place as viewed from its northern “end” at Jackson Street, June 8, 2023. Photography by Doug Chan
Today, St. Louis Alley is known as the home of Leung’s White Crane Dragon and Lion Dance Association at 32 St. Louis Place and the Lim family association.
One of the operational lion heads used by Leung’s White Crane Dragon and Lion Dance Association at 32 St. Louis Place in San Francisco Chinatown, July 23, 2021. Photograph by Doug Chan.
St. Louis Alley appears to hit a dead end at the southern end of the alleyway where the entrance to one of San Francisco Chinatown’s many clan association buildings. (Photograph by Doug Chan, December 26, 2023). However . . .
The easterly view and passageway from the southern end of St. Louis Alley in San Francisco Chinatown. (Photograph by Doug Chan, December 26, 2023.) When Chinatown was rebuilt after the disaster of 1906, the reconstruction of the buildings fronting on St. Louis apparently preserved a portion of the west-east alleyway that formerly provided an egress onto what is now Grant Avenue. The alleyway appears to run into the west-facing rear of the building at 915 - 925 Grant Avenue are occupied (at its uppermost floors), and presumably owned, by the Suey Sing Chamber of labor and commerce” (formerly the Suey Sing Tong).
As its street sign attests, its Chinese name 聖路易巷 (canto: “Sing Low Yick Hong”) survives to this day. The operations of the lion dance troupe assure that St. Louis Place remains a part of Chinatown’s present as a vibrant cultural enclave, showcasing the resilience and contributions of the Chinese community in San Francisco.
[updated: 2023-12-12]
#St. Louis Alley#San Francisco Chinatown#Tuck On Long & Co.#Edwin Deakin#A High Binder#San Luis Alley#Charles Albert Rogers#Arnold Genthe#Leung's White Crane Dragon and Lion Dance Association#Suey Sing tong
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Irish in Sonoma has a history that goes back centuries!
The celebration of St. Patrick’s Day was very evident this past Friday as five taverns at or near the plaza were donned with some green, had food ready and were opened before 12 Noon to accommodate anticipated revealers.
Steiner’s had green garlands up on the sign outside and the Town Square, Inc was serving free corned beef and cabbage to customers who wanted to raise a glass or gulp down a pint or two.
The Sausage Emporium, next door to Chico’s on on East Napa Street was eager to welcome customers early by putting up the Irish flag out front and serving Guinness beer for $4.00 all day.
Of course the majority of St. Paddy’s Day reveling was at Murphy’ Pub in the little alleyway just off of 1st Street, East at the plaza.
Live music could be heard and more and more people flocked to Murphy’s as the lunch hour began.
While the presence of the Irish in America can be traced back before the Great Potato Famine of 1845, the Gold Rush of California in 1849 undoubtedly attracted scores of Irish to the United States. Between 1820 to 1930 over 4 million Irish migrated to America.
Yet what many people don’t know is that Irish people were here in Sonoma even before General Vallejo set down roots and made Sonoma his home.
According to historian John Patrick Sheehy, Sonoma County’s first Irish settler, John Read, arrived in 1827 while the area was under Mexican rule. Read built a ramshackle house along Crane Creek near Cotati.
Sheehy also noted that San Francisco’s civil engineer Jasper O’ Farrell built a home in Somoma County, near Freestone.
“The Irish were the first large immigrant group to settle in Sonoma County,” said Sheehy. “From the time the county was established in 1850 until the 1890s,” he said.
As Sheehy explained further. “They came from Ireland on three different paths: a number of Irish men been exiled to the penal colonies in Australia by their British rulers after the Irish Rebellions of 1848 and the early 1860s, and then made their way to California.”
“Many immigrated during the Potato Famine of 1845-1849 leaving their homes when a million Irish immigrated to America.”
“Others came to California earlier in 1846 as Union soldiers in the Mexican-American War, and then stayed behind after the war ended to mine for gold before settling on farms in Sonoma County,” Sheehy said.
Sheehy considers Jasper O’Farrell the most notable Irishman in Sonoma County. Before O’ Farrell made a name for himself in San Francisco, “he came to the Sonoma area as a surveyor for the Mexican government,” said Sheehy. “The Mexicans paid him in land grants, including part of Rancho Nicasio in Marin.”
And as Sheehy documents, with the settlement of Irish in Sonoma County a boom crop of potatoes and wheat flourished briefly from the1850s to about 1870, allowing the establishment of a “Little Ireland,” in Lakeville south of Petaluma and on the western slope of Sonoma Mountain.
Yet another bit of California history that most people don’t know is that the last of ill-fated Donner Party who had Irish immigrants among them, lived in Sonoma on the Eastside of town. The last of the Donner children (Eliza & Georgia) who survived the ordeal lived in Sonoma for a time. Donner Avenue is named after them.
While Sonoma may not have a parade on St. Patrick’s Day, the presence of the Irish in Sonoma’s history is perhaps just as significant.
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Lombard Street:-Located between Hyde and Leavenworth streets in San Francisco, Lombard Street is famous for being the crookedest street in the world. The one-block portion of Lombard Street that contains eight hairpin turns was created to reduce the hill’s natural steep slope. The speed limit in this section is a mere 5 mph (8 km/h). Vermont Street, also in San Francisco, and Snake Alley in Burlington, Iowa are two other famous streets claimed to be the crookedest street in the world. https://www.instagram.com/p/Co7JAGBP-2Q/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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A Taste Of The Unsual On Your San Francisco Bucket List
A Taste Of The Unsual On Your San Francisco Bucket List
If someone asked you to find the common point between The Maltese Falcon, Dirty Harry, and Mrs. Doubtfire, would you be able to find the solution? These films were all shot in San Francisco, even the Maltese Falcon which is surprising for a film of the 1940s. San Francisco is a hub of activities in California, and it’s no wonder it attracts so many tourists. But do you know where to find the true taste of this town?
Getting There In Style
While California feels like at the other end of the world, you can get to San Francisco from the UK in only 10 hours and for under £400. This suddenly makes the journey feel a lot smoother. Keep the smooth vibe with a cab driver from the airport to your hotel, with the booktaxisanfrancisco company, for example.
Finally, remember to register for your ESTA visa at least 72 hours before departure. You can do it easily online, and it costs only $14 for visits under 90 days. As the ESTA is valid for 2 years, you simply need to update it when you fly back to your next US holiday.
Miss The Obvious
Before you turn to the unusual San Francisco, make sure to stop by the obvious attractions first. The Golden Gate Bridge is one of the most famous American bridges and was until the mid-1960s the longest suspended bridge in the world.
Don’t miss Chinatown either, or any of the four Chinatowns in town, that awaits visitors with fantastic Chinese treats and beautiful souvenirs. Finally, take a tour of the Exploratorium, which is a large interactive museum for all.
Hidden Architectural Treasures
Dive into the secret architectural treasures of San Francisco: They are the guarantee of a holiday you won’t forget. To see the Wave Organ, which was built by Peter Richards in 1986. This amazing acoustic sculpture is on the bay side of the Marina and plays when the wind blows.
Wave organ
If you are after a more sporty experience, head to 16th Avenue where you will find 163 steps of bright mosaic tiles in the middle of the Sunset district. This colorful staircase was completed in 2005 with a mosaic donated by the local community. Finally, reconnect with your inner child and have a slide on the slippery slopes of Seward Street. Follow the sign that says no adult unless accompanied by a child and embrace the fun.
The Unexpected Encounters
Defenestration project
If you have already visited San Francisco in the past, you might have come across the Defenestration project, a giant sculpture on a building that made it look like the furniture was escaping a large hotel. Unfortunately, this project was shut down in 2014, but there are rumors that it might be reopened elsewhere in town. But surprise yourself with a quick visit to an antique shop specialized in oddities, Loved to Death on Haight Street, where you will find everything from taxidermy to jewelry.
Finally, conclude the day with a trip to Albion Castle, a large underground brewery built in 1870 by an English immigrant in the middle of San Francisco.
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February 11, 2023 at 08:26AM
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Montecito Ordered to Evacuate as Mudslide Danger Rises: California Storm Updates
CARPINTERIA, Calif. — Large number of occupants were requested to rapidly clear Montecito on Monday as one more significant California storm took steps to release perilous landslides, five years to the day that a dangerous deluge of mud and stones raced through areas in the St Nick Barbara District territory.
Up to a foot of downpour was supposed to douse the generally soaked slopes there on Monday alone, with the area at high gamble of mud streams in light of late rapidly spreading fires that have made soils and vegetation less steady. The 2018 landslide killed 23 individuals and transformed the typically perfect chateau local area into a war zone.
"We're amidst a progression of huge and strong tempests," Sheriff Bill Brown of St Nick Barbara Region said in a preparation. "At present, we're encountering a tempest that is creating many issues and can possibly lead to significant issues across our province, particularly in the consume scar regions."
At the Best Western In addition to Carpinteria Motel, a few miles southeast of Montecito, a constant flow of individuals clad in downpour gear pulled up in SUVs loaded with baggage and arrangements. Some who had emptied said they were amazed to be among those arranged to leave in light of the fact that their homes were not in consume scars.
The most recent in a progression of environmental streams struck the majority of California on Monday, soaking the northern piece of the state toward the beginning of the day and afterward lashing the Focal Coast over the course of the day. Southern California, which awakened to wet skies before a relief, was anticipating a fountain of downpour later Monday and into Tuesday.
The following round was additionally gauge to carry downpour and a few tempests to Northern California on Tuesday.
Among the hardest-hit regions on Monday was St Nick Cruz Area, around 70 miles south of San Francisco, where in excess of 30,000 occupants were emptied as brooks and waterways bested their banks, compromised homes and washed away no less than one scaffold. Landslides hindered two thruways in the St Nick Cruz Mountains that associate the locale to the San Francisco Sound Region.
The flooding in St Nick Cruz District blockaded a region previously faltering from the absolute heaviest harm from late tempests. Simply last week, the conjunction of a tempest flood, elevated tides and elevated surf imploded docks and overwhelmed many homes and organizations.
The tempest's effects proceeded with farther south along the state's Focal Coast, with clearing orders along waterways in Watsonville and in Monterey Region.
Various streets were shut down in the midst of glimmer flood admonitions in San Luis Obispo Region, and California Polytechnic State College shut down for the afternoon. The college detailed that understudies, workforce and creatures were being cleared from farming offices with a supply going to break.
Late Sunday, President Biden supported a crisis statement for 17 regions in California, considering government help from the Bureaucratic Crisis The executives Organization and the Branch of Country Security in alleviation and salvage endeavors.
Jill Cowan revealed from Carpinteria, and Victoria Kim from San Francisco.
Read the full article
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Cumber(some)land Street
2022, 22” x 28”, Ink on Mylar over poster board
Digitally-generated “true” printed linework overlaid by hand-inked experiential illustration.
San Francisco drapes its urban grid over 48 hills. Streets undulate like rollercoasters, snaking around contours of land, rupturing to reveal concrete walls bisected by vegetated staircases. To move through the city is to inhabit volumetric space. Distorted distances amplify perspectives in the performance of everyday life. Steep slopes present themselves to one another, functioning as both the raked seats of a theater and the elevated stage, at once observer and the observed.
Cumber(some)land Street is a mapped representation following the September 20222 event of Steep Urbanists climbing the spatial volumes of San Francisco’s Dolores Heights while dancing to amplified musical volumes. The map extrudes the urban grid’s attempt to apply orthogonal control to vertical landforms, as in the case with Cumberland Street, which prioritizes scenic pedestrian thoroughfares where steep road slopes are too cumbersome for vehicular access.
SteepUrbanist is an art, architecture, and research practice celebrating how humans can densely inhabit steep terrain.
www.steepurban.ist | @steepurbanist
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The driver of this Tesla uses the roads of San Francisco as a springboard
The driver of this Tesla uses the roads of San Francisco as a springboard
Teslas are extremely fast cars. Some drivers then tend to abuse this power, this is the result.
The streets of San Francisco are known for their impressive incline. Most of the city is on a slope and inevitably, the driving is different.
But that, the driver of this Tesla did not particularly understand and he then put himself in the head of pass everyone at full speed with its 100% electric…
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