Tag Archives: san Francisco

53 Years of Torture Over – World Champion San Francisco Giants

02 Tuesday Nov 2010

Posted by in Route 53 - Life is A Highway, San Francisco - Leaving your heart, San Francisco - Sports & Life

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It breaks your heart.  It is designed to break your heart.  The game begins in spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.  ~A. Bartlett Giamatti, “The Green Fields of the Mind,” Yale Alumni Magazine, November 1977

For 53 years and 53 teams, baseball broke the hearts of San Franciscans, but tonight an improbable team ended years of frustration and enhanced the love of a sport and 25 guys who worked as one.  As their management and the team tried to convey, the victory was for a city, for fans, for past players and for past generations.  The atmosphere has been electric for the last month.  You could feel how badly people wanted this one and perhaps needed it.

Torture was the word of the year to describe this team, but  it really wasn’t one year.  It was 53 years.  A team of underdogs, a team of misfits, a team that nobody ever believed had a chance, was the team that everyone fell in love with.  The team with a rich history of Hall of Famers had its most  successful season with a bunch of no-names.  In the future, many will not remember some of the names that helped to bring San Francisco it’s first baseball championship.  As I mentioned previously, the City of San Francisco loves its champions, but more they love their champions who do it the right way.  The 2010 San Francisco Giants did it the right way.  There will be many who say they knew this team had it from day 1, but if they tell you that, they are liars.  A team of misfits, discards from other teams, showed the world what teamwork is all about.  They have said repeatedly this post-season that the most talented team doesn’t always win.  It’s the team that plays the best that wins.  As late as the beginning of August this team was in 4th place and 7 or 8 games out of 1st place, but the team showed how baseball is a parallel to life.  You work hard, you keep grinding, and you never stop believing.

Nick and I Fear the Beard!

As a San Francisco native I am overwhelmed.  There are hundreds of thousands and perhaps millions of natives who grew up in the same generation as me, who had moms or dads that introduced them to baseball at Candlestick Park or Seals Stadium and had to wait their whole lives.  Everyone has their own unique story.  There are many people like me who wish the dad that introduced them to the sport were here to enjoy and celebrate with them.  Yes baseball is just a game, but it is America’s past time.  It is like life itself.  Unlike those in New York who have 27 Championships, this is San Francisco’s first.  For those who have waited their whole lives for this day, it is a day to be savored.  Hopefully it won’t be 53 years until another championship is won.  Those who had seen things go wrong in the past know the heartache and how sweet this victory is.  This will not be taken for granted.  It will be cherished.  It will be savored.   The team itself reminded everyone of the history of the organization.  It reminded those not old enough about the heartaches of the 3 previous attempts at the World Championship.  It reminded me of the great history of San Francisco, and it reminded me of all the great things the City has to offer.  The team helped me to teach my son about all the great history and people that built this City.  My son saw Joe Montana, Bob Weir, Steve Perry, Danny Glover, and a slew of other celebrities from the area cheering for the team just like him.  Somewhere around the 7th inning of Game 2 he started to grasp the gravity of the situation and understood the passion around the desire to win the whole thing.  A World Series victory would be the beginning of a big healing process.

There is an old adage in baseball that as Spring Training begins, hope always springs eternal. No matter what I am always optimistic about the Giant’s chances.  This year I wasn’t.  I really felt this team didn’t have what it would take.  It shows how life is so unpredictable, how what is perceived could also be deceiving.  Baseball and life are unpredictable and just when you least expect it, it will serve you up a surprise.

Growing up watching Mays, Marichal, Perry, Cepeda, McCovey, Clark, Mitchell, Speier, Fuentes and all it is amazing this team has accomplished something that those other teams couldn’t.  No heroes, just a bunch of blue collar ballplayers.  Fortunately for me I was able to share a little bit with my own son and helped him to understand how unique an experience this is and how unique this team is.  Attending the last game played at home and also participating in the Opening Ceremonies of Game 2 of the World Series was not only a unique experience, but it was the creation of a memory that he will keep forever.  Having my son tell me, “I will never ever forget this day” was a highlight for me.  I remember when my dad took me to see Ed Halicki’s no-hitter back in the late-70s as if it were yesterday.  I know my son will be thinking the same even 30 years from now.

Carrying the US Flag

It is only fitting that Edgar Renteria, a player that is at the end of his career and contemplating retirement was the MVP of the series.  He spent many months on the bench, has a torn muscle in his arm, yet was one of the many heroes in the end.  Hard work, determination and a never say die attitude, were Edgar’s message to all.  It’s one we should all learn to employ in life.

I am speechless to say the least.  I am more choked up than anything else.  The memory of all those who never got to see this day, but taught us to love this team, this City, and the game of baseball would be proud of the 2010 World Champion San Francisco Giants.  They were not only a team of destiny, but true deserving champions in every sense of the word.  A team of misfits who fit perfectly together.

As I write this, there is honking and hollering in the streets.  The younger generations are celebrating in the bars and dancing in the streets, but I know there are many like me also sitting at home with not so dry eyes thinking of those who never got to see this but helped us to appreciate this moment.  They taught us how to “love the laundry” (as Seinfeld calls it).  Such a bittersweet time in San Francisco.

The much maligned announcer, Joe Buck, said it best….”America’s Most Beautiful City now owns Baseball’s Sweetest Accomplishment”.

Losing a San Francisco Icon

26 Saturday Jun 2010

Posted by in San Francisco - Leaving your heart

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“I arrived in San Francisco  with no job, a pregnant wife and less than $1,000 to my name.” – Walter Shorenstein, billionaire, San Franciscan and owner of the largest private real estate company in the US.

Clinton and Shorenstein

RIP Walter Shorenstein.  Herb Caen, famed Pulitzer winning columnist, used to be so mad at Walter Shorenstein for ruining the San Francisco skyline and views with the large buildings that he owned (the Bank of America building was his most famous) and built.  Now two of San Francisco’s largest fans can continue their conversation in heaven.  Herb will tell him not to build any buildings in the afterlife.  He’ll also tell him that it is cool, but not as nice as San Francisco.

I only met Mr. Shorenstein personally once.  He was a very quiet billionaire, but if you knew San Francisco and politics, you knew the name.   In fact it was hard to escape in San Francisco and New York where his name could be found on buildings (his daughter just won a Tony for the revival of August Wilson’s Fences).  San Francisco is a small town in many ways so it is hard not to run into people some time in our lives.

Like Herb Caen, I hated Walter Shorenstein too!  16 years ago I got married and came home to San Francisco from my “Big Italian New Jersey Wedding” on our way to Hawaii.  We were dropping off our bags and picking up our honeymoon bags and flying out the next morning.  The problem was that our car (with house keys in the glove compartment) had been towed from in front of my parent’s house.  This crazy rich guy had our whole street towed for his wife’s funeral which took place at San Francisco’s Temple Emanuel.  By the way, I live on a street where homes were built before people had cars so we all parked on the street back then on the street.  Needless to say I never carried my wife into our first home.   I spent my second night of marriage at the tow yard.  Ironically the World Cup was going on that year as well as I remember sitting in the tow office watching soccer.

Four years later I was still holding a grudge about that night and was out for a run when I got jumped by several secret service people outside of Mr. Shorenstein’s house in the Sea Cliff neighborhood where I lived.  Seems that I was of poor timing as President Clinton had been spending the night and was about to go for a run.  Mr. Shorenstein had said that he’d seen me in the neighborhood and apologized.  I thanked him and he introduced me to the President.  I wonder if they both remembered my sweaty and stunned handshake.  Not often that you get to shake hands with a current President and a billionaire in the same minute.  I never got to tell Mr. Shorenstein about my towed car story, but it was now pointless.  This man was a philanthropist.  He saved our baseball team from moving, he donated his money freely, and he did it as many would call “The San Francisco Way” (with style).

Now almost 16 years later to the day of his wife’s passing, the quiet billionaire and supporter of Presidents has passed and I’m bracing myself.  Monday will be his funeral and now that I’m back living across the street from the Temple, I’m expecting multiple Presidents in attendance.  My guess is that I will have an unobstructed view of President’s Clinton and Carter as well as VPs Walter Mondale and Al Gore.  Others I expect in attendance are Senator Diane Feinstein (a former neighbor), Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi (also a former neighbor) , and Mayor Gavin Newsom.   So I guess I will be there as well.

Well that is my story about Walter Shorenstein.  Attached is the article from the San Francisco newspaper to get a broader view of his career: SFGate – Click Here for article

Growing up watching a legend – Say Hey & The Freak

22 Tuesday Jun 2010

Posted by in Route 53 - Celebrity Sightings, San Francisco - Leaving your heart

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Baseball in San Francisco enjoys a rich history although not one of success with no World Series victories to call its own. 52 years of baseball in San Francisco and while there have been many faces of the franchise, there is no doubt that Mays, Bonds and now Lincecum for the forseeable future will be the legacy names depending upon the generation you call yours.  

Mays and Lincecum

I think the Barry Bonds era is officially over.  He’s pretty much forgotten as Tim (“The Freak”)  Lincecum has captured the imagination and how holds the torch for the San Francisco baseball community.  And while many not have lived long enough to know it, while Barry was so long the face of the community, he really didn’t capture the imagination of San Francisco as much as Willie (“The Say Hey Kid”) Mays and Tim Lincecum have done.  He stood on a pedastal while Willie and Tim have personalities that reflect the San Francisco of their times.  Although I was only 5 years old when Willie Mays handed me his autographed baseball while I handed him some steaks as we stood in the freezer of my grandfather’s butcher shop, I remember it like it was yesterday.

Willie moved to San Francisco and the City was electrified by this young “African-American” who had enthusisam and personality that transcended racial barriers.  Willie Mays, along  with my  grandfather, a Chinese butcher, who through some luck had come into some money were still in a racially divided society despite the liberalness of San Francisco in the early ’60s.  My grandfather, was unable to purchase a home outside of the Chinatown community.   My grandfather had earned some money from the sale of his butcher shop to the City of San Francisco so they could build what would eventually become the current Moscone Convention Center. 

At the same time Willie Mays was refuted the ability to purchase a home and later chased out of his neighborhood.  Then mayor, George Christopher, a  Greek man who embraced civil rights, took both men in at separate times and they became friends.   My grandfather was eventually introduced by the mayor to another Greek man, John Vrahos, who helped my grandfather to become one of the first Asian homeowners in the ritzy suburb of Menlo Park which ironically today is heavily populated by the Asian community despite small print on most land deeds which still state that the property should not be sold to a person of color.  

Although my grandfather died almost a decade ago, when I see Willie Mays today, he still greets me and calls me “Phil’s grandson”.  I never got to ask my grandfather but in many ways I feel like Willie might have been his first black acquaintance and the for Willie, my grandfather might have been his first Asian acquaintance.

Tonight I watched my son sit mesmerized in front of the television as he watched Tim Lincecum mow down the Houston Astros.  Lincecum’s long hair is being copied by children all over San Francisco’s Little League fields such that you can barely tell the boys from the girls.  More importantly he is relating to a new generation of fans.  Walking his dog around the city with his girlfriend, Lincecum looks like any 20-something on the street.  His dimunitive size for a baseball player allows him to mesh in with the tourists and not call much attention to himself.

What is happening in San Francisco with Lincecum is truly unique.  Mays is undoubtedly the best player that ever played the game and those who grewup watching him were lucky.  With 2 Cy Youngs in his first 3 years, Lincecum is definitely one of the brightest stars in the game and I hope my child will some day look back and see how lucky he was to have grown up a Giants fan idolizing a future Hall of Famer.

Only in San Francisco – Bay to Breakers

16 Sunday May 2010

Posted by in Route 53 - Life is A Highway, Travels: The Route 53

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Most everyone is proud of where they are from and holds dear to them many memories. 

As a native San Franciscan, I know there are many traditions and memories that keep the natives coming home.  Some traditions are gone and no longer can be shared with my children Playland, Doggie Diner, etc..  And yet some other traditions are even better than the past. No matter what, being a native of wherever you are from, you need to embrace change and thus the San Francisco Bay to Breakers is one of those reflective of the culture of the city it represents and what makes San Francisco unique.

The Famous Pink Gorilla

In it’s 99th year, the Bay to Breakers has become known as many things: The Largest Road Race in the World, The San Francisco Fun Run, The Biggest party in Sneakers…. but attracts all types. Where else can you see World Record Kenyans, costumed avatar runners, Centipedes (runners tied together who need to run in a circle at every mile marker), people pushing kegs, and yes, runners au naturel.

I’ve run the race approximately 15 times, my first coming as a 10 year old the last almost 20 years ago, but I took my son out to watch this morning in the chilly damp air in Golden Gate Park for a good laugh, some world class athletics, and a preview of our first run next year to cement his stature as a “True Native San Franciscan”. The race grew to as many as 100,000 runners back on the 75th anniversary and there were around 60,000 registered runners (an estimated 15K “fun runners”. 

Make sure to set your plans for the 3rd Sunday in 2011 for the 100th running and look for registration details here: http://www.ingbaytobreakers.com/

Please see attached photos for some of this year’s costumed highlights.  Don’t worry, I have edited this for frontal nudity!

Bay to Breakers is a party

Below is a link to my Facebook page with all of my photos (yes, including the nude ones) of the top runners, fun runners, costumed runners, etc.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=175734&id=688067623&l=b8188088e8

A Warm San Francisco Holiday To All

22 Tuesday Dec 2009

Posted by in Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

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Happy Holidays

Happy Holidays

Happy Holidays Everyone,

Before everyone takes off on their vacations from their virtual world, I just thought I’d wish you all a very Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwaanza, etc.  Please be safe if you are traveling this season!

As I pushed through the chilling temperatures and blustery winds of San Francisco during my run last night I kept reminding myself of those cold December nights I’ve spent in New York City, Chicago, and Pittsburgh.  Nothing will ever compare to those cold bitter nights when I wore long underwear under my wool suits and wondered why I left my “City by the Bay”. I do remember telling myself that I would remember those days so I would appreciate San Francisco that much more when I would eventually return.   Although cold, my run was dry and I ran down the festively lit shopping areas of Sacramento St, Fillmore St., California, and Clement St. distracting myself with the observations of the decorations people had in their windows.

While the glittery lights were dazzling and the quietness of the air still reminded me of how our economy is not quite back up to speed, the most warming images of my run were of the people. 

First, there was the elderly couple walking together with their arms around each other as they left their party at Spruce Restaurant (http://www.sprucesf.com). They stopped and kissed saying “I love you” and touching their foreheads together in the middle of the sidewalk as I dodged them.  It was a split second of our paths crossing but it was a beautiful image.

Second, there were the two inebriated young ladies in their short cocktail dresses stumbling out of the Elite Cafe (http://www.theelitecafe.com/) before crashing to the ground.  I say crashing because they fell backwards into me as I ran behind them.  Fortunately I caught one before she hit her head on one of the tables outside. They were inebriated because as the cabbie and I helped them to their feet, neither of them could pronounce their destination.  I laughed when she said they were going to New York.  A great guy, the cabbie, a little Frenchman in his beret and scruffy clothes had me and one of the waiters watch him as he helped one girl open her purse to find her address. She kissed his scruffy face as he pushed her back into the cab.  “Welcome to Christmas on the Barbary Coast”, he said as he tipped his cap to us while mentioning one of the many long-gone nicknames of San Francisco.  I think I ran a whole another mile before the whole incident washed behind me, turning towards home.  The cab driver reminded me of the kindness of people at this time of year.

As I passed by San Francisco’s only 24 hour Starbucks in Laurel Village (yes I love running by it at night just so that I can get a whiff of the caffeine aroma) a bunch of Fire Engine’s raced by me.  Looking for an alternate route, I followed their sirens.  A Portable Potty had been set ablaze nearby.  This has been the work of arsons as dozens have been set on fire over the last year.

Not wanting to end my run on a negative note, I continued on and started  to notice a pattern that is so familiar this time of year.  I had been seeing it over the a past week as cars and taxis pull up in front of homes and the dwellers come out to greet and hug a family member returning home.  The tears of joy and happiness really signify what this season is about and while the images weren’t exactly Norman Rockwell-esque, they told the story.  The story of family and friends coming together.  I even saw a soldier returning home a couple weeks ago in full gear as his mother screamed when she opened the door (adorned with a yellow ribbon).

All of these images (including the fiery portable toilet) told the story of 2009.  Maybe they weren’t my story, but they were nice ones.

2009 will be just that for me.  “A Nice One”.  I’ll definitely take that after 2008.  I needn’t look much further than 2008 to remember what was happening last year as my wife was recovering from her second surgery in 3 months and we scheduled ourselves for a very low key Christmas with only enough fanfare to keep our kid’s spirits high.  Just 365 days ago I sat by her bedside making sure she’d be okay just to get up and deal with Christmas.  While 2009 was no picnic, and we did deal with two more minor surgeries, life today compared to last year couldn’t be much better healthwise.

The holiday is often on its long tail as we’ve already had two family gatherings, a work party and a large bash at a friend’s home yet we are still 3 days shy of Christmas.  We still have two more family gatherings to go to.  Such is the life of the fragmented world and family.  As I sit here in my den, I know of local friends spending the holiday in Hawaii, Argentina, Spain, France, England, Italy & Brazil just to name those places not on this continent.  They all sound enticing…. the Champs Elysees on Christmas?  How magical does that sound!?

Well San Francisco is where we remain and where we will keep our hearts this Christmas!  No snow and no sand!  The image above is from  Sara Showalter, (www.sarashowalter.com) or @gidget on Twitter.  A great local artist, the image was used for our holiday card this year. If you are looking for an artist or photographer, I highly recommend her.  And the best thing about her?  She is a diehard San Francisco Giants fan!

Save Us San Francisco

13 Friday Nov 2009

Posted by in Route 53 - Life is A Highway

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Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you’re here with me
And you make everything alright
And when I feel like I’m lost something tells me you’re here with me
And I can always find my way when you are here

– Pat Monahan, Train

I was at a concert recently where the group, Train, which was formed in San Francisco, played from their new album, Save Me San Francisco.  I thought it an interesting title given that they have to play in about 50 other cities on their tour and I doubt they would tell people how, “Chicago is great, but we’re here to tell you about San Francisco”.

I admit that I have had a lifelong love affair with San Francisco.  Fortunate to have been born here and even more fortunate to still work and have a family here, I try not to take it for granted.  Even my wife who is from the East Coast finally has broken down and said this is the perfect place to have settled.  “It has soul.  It has character, ” she once told me.  She’s right.  But it isn’t just the City.  It’s the people too.

Now don’t get me wrong.  Having spent years working in Chicago and New York and various other cities, I love those cities for many of their merits as well.  And the people there are so real and loveable in their own way and sometimes even more loveable than San Francisco.   I’m sure everyone feels that way about where they are from, so excuse me while I gloat.  After all, Conde Nast Traveler’s reader poll  did say that San Francisco is the best place in America, so they can’t be that wrong, could they?

Yes San Francisco has it’s Golden Gate, it’s nearby Napa wine country, and the beautiful Pacific coastline, but like every beautiful painting or landscape, the object of your desire has to have depth which keeps you coming back for more.  It has to engage you, frustrate you, encourage you, entertain you, and most of all, leave you breathless in amazement as you look back over your shoulder as to what you have been through.  For me, San Francisco has always been “all points pointing west” whenever I look for that solution. 

Maybe there really is something magical about San Francisco.  For my whole life I’ve known people who have moved to this city I call home.  They come here to find themselves, to discover acceptance for who they are, or just to begin again.  In the 1800s there was the Gold Rush, in the 1960s it was the hippies and free love.  Today it is still for the technology as well as an alternative style of living.

As a native, I’m not looking for much of the new so much that I am looking to have more of the same and in some way to revisit those things which I’ve enjoyed so much about the past, and some recent small events have gotten me to thinking about those healing powers of the City once called by Herb Caen, Baghdad by the Bay.  They might not mean anything individually, but together in reflection they do.

Nick and a Proud Dad

Nick and a Proud Dad

A few weeks back on the golf course in the 56th Northern California Family Golf Championships with my son.  The tournament is one that I started playing with my own dad when I was in high school.  It was my way of getting closer to my dad doing something he enjoyed.  We played many times and it wasn’t until my early 20s that we finally took home a trophy for our flight.  I still remember that hug and that smile and laugh my dad gave me when he won, “We did it,” he exclaimed.  It was an aw-shucks kind of smile, but it wasn’t until now that I realized he really did enjoy it as much as I did.

With the shoes reversed some 20 years later, I became overwhelmed with a sense of deja vu.  I kept looking at my son and remembering all the great times I had in this tournament with his grandfather.  Back then I did it to be closer with my dad and I always felt it was for me.  But as we advanced each round in this tournament this year I realized how much I was getting out of this and just relished the moments spent with my son to just talk about life, learning to relax, and to tell him no matter what happened, how proud I am of him.  It wasn’t just me.  Many of the other teams were multi-generation San Franciscans who had played the tournament as youngsters and now were playing with their own children. Such a cool event and yet, such a personal and life building experience.

The kid who keeps me young

The kid who keeps me young

Soccer Saturdays was not something I had growing up.  Anyone who has children these days knows what it means to be a soccer parent.  You spend your days as a chauffeur and snack coordinator.  In San Francisco it has been a chance for me to see old high school friends, cousins and classmates who have children the same age.  Having the time to talk about old times and fins out about old friends has become a weekly ritual.  It just makes you realize how small this City is.

Now getting back to the Train concert, I took my wife and my best friend from high school to see Train at the reknowned Fillmore concert hall (http://www.thefillmore.com), one of those temples of music that has so much hisotry in it (more on this later).  Train inspired this posting as they were formed in San Francisco, disbanded for solo careers and just recently moved back to San Francisco to start recording together.  They told the story of how although none of them were originally from the area, they felt as though the City had saved them twice.  First by bringing them together and then, bringing them back together again.  They went through a myriad of songs all about California and San Francisco that left the 3 of us so happy that we went and so proud of the city we call home.

A few weeks later I got a message that one of my childhood elementary school classmates had passed away.  We weren’t close, but I saw the grieving that many of those classmates felt.  Although our friend died early and a rough life was pretty much the cause of death, that did not matter to us.  The outpouring of grief and emotion turned into a beautiful private vigil at San Francisco’s Ocean Beach at sunset.  Suddenly the 76 classmates were now back in touch some 30 years later, brought together by the death of one of our own.  It makes me wonder if our friend realized how much she was loved and will be missed by so many and by those who she might not have seen in so long.  My wife thought it very interesting and touching that our community was that tight.  I reminded her and our children ( they go to the same school my brothers and sister and I went to) that history repeats itself and that some day our children might be out there grieving for one of their classmates.

In getting our classmates together I even had the opportunity to go out to a restaurant owned by one of our firends.  He even comped us a great meal (http://www.betelnutrestaurant.com).  Afterwards we went to the Fillmore to see a small artist named Mat Kearney.  It turns out that  Mat’s parents have a lot of history in San Francisco and were in attendance.  They were flower children who met in San Francisco in the ’50s while working in a diner as a waitress and a chef.  Although they hade very little money they were able to see a few concerts at the Fillmore and claimed their favorites were Jimmy Hendrix and Bob Dylan.  Well now they have to add their son to that list which has brought their lives back to San Francisco full circle.  I love little stories like that.

Yes, San Francisco  has its mysterious charm and I’m sure it has healing powers for whatever it is that ails you or those around you..Los Angeles may have its Palm Trees and beautiful people, New York might have Wall St., and all the nightlife you could want, Chicago has great food and spirit, but San Francisco simply has the “it” factor that attracts and rewards those who embrace it.

Train @ the Fillmore

Train @ the Fillmore

Mat Kearney

Mat Kearney @ The Fillmore

Foghorns, 49ers, and Fall

22 Tuesday Sep 2009

Posted by in Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

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Life is a roller coaster ride
Time turns the wheel and love collides
Faith is believing you can close your eyes and touch the sky
So shine while you have the chance to shine
Laugh even when you want to cry
Hold on tight to what you feel inside and ride

– Lyrics to “The Ride” by Martina McBride
Kicking off a New Season in San Francisco

Kicking off a New Season in San Francisco

Today is officially the last day of summer and the first day of Fall.  A beautiful time for me and a wonderful time in San Francisco.  I believe if Mark Twain had stayed for the Fall, his famous quote would have read, “The coldest Winter I ever spent was the Summer I spent in San Francisco, but the warmth of its Fall Sunny Days and Foggy nights give the city it’s charm the makes it so beautiful.”

This is now the time to enjoy its 40 hills, its 49 square mile (some say its officially47) and some of its over 3000 wonderful restaurants.  Tourists are gone, the weather is at its best, and if you want to venture up to the Napa wine country, it is time to see the Fall crush of the grapes which many say is the best time to visit.

Someone asked me recently, “What is with the midnight runs?” They really aren’t at midnight, but I have to admit they are later than most people run.  They are also somewhat of a sore point with my wife as she doesn’t like my running in dark clothes with no identification on me.  The truth of the matter is that while I am running sparsely populated streets at night, I do run a pretty regular route, I run on sidewalks and even some of the parking valets around know my schedule well enough to tell me if I’m running late, early or slow.  Last night I was even able to tell the valets at Spruce Restaurant the score of the late night ESPN game.

Running the streets of San Francisco is where I do my best thinking.  Sometimes those nagging issues you’ve been dealing with for days or weeks just somehow find a solution at mile #2 when you’ve got that lactic acid building  in your leg, but you stretch it out running up the steep incline on Upper Fillmore imagining you are Rocky only to find Gino’s liquor store and the last patrons of Jackson Fillmore coming out of the trattoria with sated appetites instead of a big statue at the top of the stairs overlooking Philadelphia.

It is my favorite time to run in San Franciso.  The end of summer in San Francisco usually means our hottest days are coming.  It  means nights filled with low lying wispy fog that drenches your face during your runs.  It also means those deep fog horns blaring throughout the night.  During the day the fog blows out to sea and the days are filled with 80 degree weather. My dad used to call this fog, San Francisco’s natural air conditioner.  It is so refreshing and almost is like our Spring in many ways.  In fact with baseball season ending and football season beginning, it is like a whole new season, especially in San Francisco, home of the 5 time champion 49ers.  Growing up going to games with my dad it was the time of hope and new beginnings.  To me it still is that way.  Now it’s with my own son.

Running the streets of San Francisco, with foghorns blaring I just smile to myself thinking about the great time I had at the ballpark with my son earlier in the day, introducing him to the people who have sat around us in the same seats for 30 years.  The same people who gave me cookies and milk when I was his age now give them to my son.  My son has no clue how he’s just living my life from 30 years ago.  Cheering on the 49ers, high fiving strangers after a great play and eating terrible food that give you a stomach ache when you get home.   It’s a cyclical pattern in life and yet it is a new beginning.

I can look back 30 years, but these days while I celebrate a year since my wife’s breast cancer surgery, I also look back a year when I was playing nurse to my recovering wife.  It still isn’t over with her pending surgery coming.  This will again hopefully be the last surgery for a while.  This is one cycle I don’t want to have repeat itself.  A year can make a huge difference both good and bad.  There is no doubt in my mind that my wife and I are stronger than we were before.

So back to my running, I’m not an extremely spiritual person as  I’ll go to church for special occasions, but running has been my place of worship and my confessional.  Each run is my own search for the truth.  I don’t run with others, justw ith my thoughts.  It is where I ask myself if I truly believe. It is where I push myself and question my actions and where I look for the answer to many of life’s questions.  It is my solitude that allow me to begin a new day every day with renewed energy.  There is a running commercial where the person has to get through that first mile before they reach that special runner’s place.  Yes, that the runner’s high.   It is true for me like many.  I feel better after an exhausting run that before I left.  San Francisco has a part in that.  It is that friend that is with me on every run.  Its streets are the paths in life that I go over time and again.  Yes Fall is here in San Francisco and my motivation is higher than ever.

The Olympic Wildman

25 Thursday Jun 2009

Posted by in Route 53 - Celebrity Sightings

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My Son & Ben Wildman-Tobriner

My Son & Ben Wildman-Tobriner

  Ben Wildman-Tobriner is only the second San Franciscan to win an Olympic medal and ironically he was taught by Ann Curtis, the first San Franciscan.  Ann has a pool in Marin where I learned to swim during my summers and where my children now go to learn.  Recently, Ben showed up at the pool during our kid’s lesson so that they could touch the Olympic Gold Medal that he won at the 2008 Beijing Olympics as part of the 4×100 meter freestyle relay team (he swam in the semifinal heats).  Ben currently holds the US Record in the 50-yard freestyle in a time of 18.87 seconds. He also was the World Champion in the 50 meter free in 2007.
  My other connection to Ben is that he went to the same high school I went to (years apart) and was also on my school’s swim team.  Ben is a self made kid.  It is very rare to see a kid like Ben from the inner city that is not made of swimming pools become an international swimming champion.  Our high school (Lick-Wilmerding) is not a sports powerhouse.  With only 450 kids, you usually get drafted by coaches to help fill out sports rosters.  In highschool my swiumming team was a motley gang of kids who didn’t wear speedos or skin tigh swimming caps to remove resistence.  We had maybe 8 kids on our team.  The same was with Ben years later.  Ben swam at the local boys and girl’s club in San Francisco’s Haight Ashbury district.  No pristine facilities.  It is like the the Rocky of swimming pools.
  Ben went on to be a star in  the Stanford University swimming program and is now at UCSF Medical School where my wife is currently being treated for her cancer.   He is now torn between medical school and his swimming career.  Ben has a great humble head on his shoulders and has given back to the pools that helped him to get where he is today.  I only wish the other swimmer on the US team that won 8 gold medals has the same character as Ben.

Out of the Fog

06 Wednesday May 2009

Posted by in Breast Cancer - A Loving Fight, Route 53 - Life is A Highway

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San Francisco is the longest lasting love affair of my life. Her beauty inspires me anew each day and I am very thankful to be able to live here on the edge of the continent in what I feel is the heart of the world. ~Nicole ,sfheart.com

The last couple of weeks have been a bit nutty from me.  I think  it all started with my annual check -up ( I got a clean bill of health by the way) but as soon as it was over, I got sick.  I had a rash, a hacking cough, a fever….no it wasn’t “swine flu” although I had just taken a flight from Los Angeles to San Francisco where I was about the only person not returning from Spring Break in Mexico.  In the end I think it was just the winding down from all the stress of making sure that I was healthy for my check-up that my body just relaxed and broke down.  The stress had been hitting me hard and now it was just taking over my body in its weakened state.

Today, after two weeks, I felt like something came over me. I wasn’t sure.  My wife went in for her 5 month appt for her study and was given the approval for more medication to lessen some of the side effects.  A relief for her too I guess.  She still wants to revisit her physician and see if he can make a few more corrections.  These days, these decisions I leave to her.  She wants to remove me from the clinical aspects of our marriage.  In her view it is like my not telling her what hue of lipstick or what pair of shoes to wear.   We then proceeded to make summer plans and take care of the millions of little things that have been bothering us.  The Comcast cable issue, summer camps for kids, and all those little things we’ve been meaning to coordinate around the house, but just haven’t asked each other to help.

Then despite working late, skipping lunch, having a late dinner, and barely getting home in time to tuck my kids into bed, I had that burst of energy.  I still have been coughing and I just knew I  had to get out and run.  I needed to have a healing run.  In fact I had a major coughing fit just as I put on my shoes.  I was dreading this run.  While recuperating from this cold I joked with my wife that we really were getting old.  I now had more medications on my bathroom counter than I can remember ever having.  I joked with my wife that i need one of those daily pill boxes that my mom has.

It was a beautiful foggy night that San Francisco is so well known for.  The damp mist on my face was so refreshing.  I ran further than I had on any run this year and I set personal bests this year for the mile, 3k and 5k distances.  It was truly amazing that despite my sickened state that my body could perform so well.  It had to be that home-cooked weather. The damp streets from the fog, along with the blurry street lights created a dreamlike feel as I ran up and down the hills.  It felt so good and all my thoughts raced in and out of my head.  By the time I completed my circle back home I could have gone longer but it was already midnight.  I felt stronger at the end of the run that I did at the beginning.  My cough is suddenly gone and I don’t feel any shortness of breath.

It is amazing how much I needed this run.  Not just for the energy, but mostly for my mindset.  I think the San Francisco weather is like that comfort food for me.  It’s healing effects on this native son are like my fountain of youth!   I felt like Tony Bennett was singing to me as I glided through the streets, window shopping and gathering in the view of the fingers of fog as they reached under the Golden Gate Bridge and curled their way across the bay.  It was like a lullaby that your mom sings to you when you can’t sleep.  Sometimes it is the power of the soul to heal.  The power of the mind helps rejuvenate your passion and your spirit.  Those comfortable surroundings which lessen our worries are better than all the medicines that can be prescribed.

Speaking of sleep, I better get some.  Long day tomorrow.

Just Another Day in Baghdad by the Bay

20 Monday Apr 2009

Posted by in Route 53 - Life is A Highway

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“One day if I do go to heaven, I’ll look around and say, ‘It ain’t bad, but it ain’t San Francisco.’” –Herb Caen, former columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle.

Herbie by the Bay

Herbie by the Bay

I was going to write about something else, but today was “that day” each year that everyone gets.  It is that day where the weather suddenly changes overnight and the air is so warm and Winter seems so long ago.  Nobody is ever prepared for it, but it sure was nice to have on a Monday.  People were walking around in a daze with their noses pointed in the air and their eyes closed and a little smile on their face as they took in the suns rays.

It wasn’t just a hot day.  It was 93 degrees downtown breaking the record which was previously 84.  By 9 degrees, that wasn’t just breaking, but shattering the record.  Pipes burst, trains stopped, tracks buckled and power grids burnt out ,shutting down about 25% of the city without power. 

Today just happened to be the day when I was finally taking care of myself and heading to the doctor for my annual checkup.  Would this be the year when the doctor said I needed to be put on Lipator or some other cholesterol reducing drug?  I’d say the one good thing about the hot weather was that as I fasted all day, the last thing I wanted to do was eat.  I had to laugh as the receptionists were walking around in the dark and using flashlights  to guide pregnant women around the halls.  This happened to be Earth Day week so I guess we were conserving energy whether we wanted to or not.  It kind of broke up the nervousness for me as having been to the hospital several times over the last year for my wife was a lot simpler than a normal checkup for me. 

The results?  Well I lost 12 pounds over the previous year and now I have to wait to find out if my cholesterol counts are low enough to avoid the drugs.  Ironic that the son of a physician hates needles, but I just can’t watch them go into me,  At least the lady today got my vein right on the first try and didn’t jab me three times like last year.   Finally as I left, the blackout lifted.  It lifted for me too.  There was a relief for me as I have been working all year to make sure I stayed healthy and going to see the doctor was somethin I didn’t want to do until I was ready.  More than anything though was the relief that I think I finally felt I could look after my health after monitoring my wife.  It was a deep sigh.  I found myself closing my eyes and soaking in the sun.  It felt good, real good.  I know my wife was pleased to see me doing something for myself as well.

The next several days will be busy at conferences and for our Ben & Jerry’s Free Cone Day.

It felt good to put a Herb Caen quote at the top of this entry.  He was always my favorite columnist gwoing up as he captured the essence of San Francisco.  I don’t think he would have enjoyed today’s sweltering heat, but I think he would have found a way to enjoy his Baghdad by the Bay. 

News blip- I just heard that there are over 36,000 people over the age of 100 in Japan!  Holy cow!

Well this is my short entry for the day.  It is too hot to do anything!  Even too hot to go for a run! I earned a day off!