I drove back from Walnut Creek yesterday (it was snowing in the mountains surrounding Tehachapi as I passed through from Bakersfield on hwy 58 headed toward Barstow), and got home in time to drop over to Stoney's to catch the guys performing at the Areepalooza cancer benefit show, despite being tired from a long drive. They did two tunes, "South American Sojourn," and "Soul Trilogy." A few pics:
That's Greg Brown subbing on tubs, btw. He slammed it, no problem.
Looks like there was a good turnout. Hope they raised a lot of money.
See y'all tonight at The Palms.
O/T- WALNUT CREEK RECAP
Cheryl and I had a great short week together. On Friday morning I drove to the summit of Mount Diablo while she was at the office, 3,849 ft above sea level. Wow. You can see all the way to the Sierra and over to the bay.
Above, the view from the visitor center at the summit. Magnificent.
Saturday we hopped on the BART and went into San Francisco. Artsy stuff and street musicians everywhere. This cat, John King, is actually a drummer from Sacramento. He set up his stuff right by the ferry terminal building.
He was seriously throwin' down the jams, very cool.
I lived in North Beach in 67-68. It's always trippy to go back. I think I'm gonna ditch my white collar career and become a street musician, LOL! (Been intractably laid off anyway since March 2007) There was this guitar player/singer cat at the cable car station over by the wharf last Saturday who sucked so bad I thought "bitch, I'm comin' back with my 12-string and take your weak-shit corner..."
LOL! At one point he asked for requests, and someone hollered out "yeah, can ya stop?"
We had breakfast at Pier 39 Fisherman's Wharf, and then had to go check out the sea lions. Funny. Stinky, too.
We jumped on the cable car just down from Ghirardelli Square to bop back over the Market St, where we'd pick up the Geary 38 bus line to go hang at The Cliff House out at the ocean. I did my best to get thrown off, hanging off the car taking pictures, to the irritation of the driver dude. Gotta get the shot, bro'.
He was not amused -- "I ain't gonna tell ya again..." OK. I'm done.
Got my shots (I have more than these, just posting a few). Without getting decapitated, LOL!
After drinks at The Cliff House, we walked back up in the fog and spitting rain about a mile, to 34th and Geary to one of our favorite restaurants, the Pacific Cafe. A locals' secret.
Restaurants start and fold every year, among the toughest of businesses. This place, however, has been there since July 4th, 1974. They're open six days a week (dark Mondays), from only 5 pm - 9:30 pm Tue, Wed, Thurs and Sun, and 5 pm - 10:30 pm Fri - Sat. They don't do lunch or take reservations. No website, no nuthin', except great food and atmosphere. A concierge at a downtown hotel hipped us to this place back about 20 years ago, one time when Cheryl was attending an environmental conference over in Berkeley, and we'd made a mini-vacation out of it
7000 Geary. Highly recommended. The line queues up out the door and down the block, even in the rain. Staff repeatedly come around and hand out free glasses of white wine for those waiting. No limit.
Pretty cool. Think about it: a place only open 29 hours a week in perhaps the most highly taxed and regulated state in the nation (and in one of the most expensive cities, a city overrun with restaurants), essentially no marketing, and been around 34+ years. They shop their seafood fresh at the piers every day. Prices are not bad, either.
That should tell you all you need to know. If you're ever over in SF, check it out. Great little place. Jump on the Muni 38 line down by Market Street ($1.50, exact change), straight shot out there.