This week’s column over at SFist is without bodega, without bar: just as well to work rather than play. And for anyone sitting in a parklet going on about parks for people, green is good, click through, let us show you the ways in which Boeddeker Park is a complete disaster. Parks are useless as bandages if you put the wrong kinds on the wrong wounds.
Have you been to Wilson & Wilson? Have you wandered up and down the street waiting for the place to open, chatting with the locals, waiting for the crowd loudly checking phones just outside the speakeasy door to dissipate, wondering why you bother? You really should go. Read on.
If it’s Monday, then it’s time for Urbane Studies at SFist. Incidentally, there’s a reason why no one can remember those little details I’m always harping on like some kind of lesser Frank O’Hara. Scientists say we’re hardwired to remember the more emotionally charged events of our life. All well and good, but some days all it takes is a guava popsicle and a lovely view. Here’s to lowered expectation!
The Maryland Market is among the best in the neighborhood, if only for the beverage case: Cristal Negra soda, Inca Cola, and once I swear I saw Kolachampan, that Salvadoran elixir. Across the street, one can buy VHS copies of some of Stallone’s lesser films; t-shirts, cellphone chargers, Viccodin. So go back to the Maryland, stand in admiration of its southern wall: a warm-paletted Mondrian across the Cola signage, Maryland all free and easy, Market steady and controlled. As for the other three corners? Read on.