*** Chapter 6: The Restaurant *** Murder in SF Spain 2016 Diaphanous Destrucción Creativa Chapter 5: How a Dream Comes True -Murder in SF Chapter 4: Check, Mate – Murder in SF Chapter 3: A Body of Evidence -Murder in SF Obra de Arte To Die For Bird-of-Paradise My Chandelabra La Joya La LLuvia Eternal La música de las esferas It’s Not What You Think Chapter 2 – An Encounter with Destiny -or whatever her name was Mente Abierta -Open Mind San Antonio, TX Poemas Sin Sentido La Cueva Mexico -Guanajuato Mexico Pictures 2016 -my recent visit to La Ciudad Murder in SF Chapter 1 Voyager Consider Galveston, Texas, for an LGBT Friendly Vacation Galveston, Texas: An LGBT Friendly Gem Francophone Meetup Group Started San Juan Puerto Rico LGBT Travel and Honeymoon Guide Books, Bikes and a LGBT Friendly Neighbourhood Attend the Longest Running LGBT Film Festival in San Francisco The Pitfalls of Political Gerrymandering Finding Bed & Breakfasts in New Hampshire Finding Bed & Breakfast in Maine New Hampshire Pro Light Rail Website Trip to Paris I DON’T WANT MY CHICKEN BASTED WITH BIGOTRY Texas State House Race Reeks of Republicans Is the Texas State Senate Race Jogging in Place? Pete Gallego, Redistricting and Regaining a Republican District Nibbling and Cuddling at Cafes in Austin Noshing and Canoodling at Cafes in Galveston MARY GONZALEZ: SOCIAL JUSTICE ACTIVIST AND LEADER Chick-fil-a is Chock Full of Contradictions Dishing and Dating at Cafes and Frozen Yogurt Shops in Houston Life Is a Beach in Fabulous Fort Lauderdale San Francisco: City of Soul; City of Passion San Francisco: City of Soul; City of Passion As Texas Goes, By Gail Collins, Is Big Museum of Fine Arts, Houston Texas San Francisco Pride Weekend A Gay Getaway in Provincetown LANE LEWIS: THE ADVOCATE Some Like it Hot Margaret Cho Lights Up Provincetown LGBT Air Travel For Total Comfort Don’t Defend Dumb DOMA Broke Back Blanton Pride in Paris SAN FRANCISCO: Harvey Milk SAN FRANCISCO: Civil Rights C’est si bon… Paris Cooking Classes in English Oscar Wilde’s Paris Falling for California Invitation to Create -Ptown The Beauty that is Hawaii Galveston NH / New England San Francisco

*** Chapter 6: The Restaurant *** Murder in SF

Austin, TX Outdoor Sculpture in a Park
Austin, TX Outdoor Sculpture in a Park

It was called “The Shipwreck.” It had been a late afternoon of some debauchery before a somewhat aimless drive through several neighborhoods North of Market. Randy and Blanche had found themselves in a neighborhood in San Francisco that they did not quite recognize, despite having lived in San Francisco as long as they had. They had stopped to ask a local where a good place to eat would be. This would be not quite dinner and not quite lunch.

“How’s the coffee here?”
“Black and strong like my men.”

The menus were somewhat greasy. But, Randy was impressed with the lack of flies. That would be his usual caliber of restaurant: Tenderloin dive. These two men waiting at a table in a nearly empty restaurant took in the void of past elegance; linen tablecloths, bud vases of china populated by purple edible orchids no less. Depression-era glass was on display. There seemed to be a darkness despite the broad bay windows. The floor plan was designed to be a home, not a restaurant.

“Apparently, this place is known for its desserts.” This, according to the local as she placed the metal lid on the garbage can on her front porch, a rarity in San Francisco. Other than the more stately Victorians, one’s home would not have a porch. They were some blocks from the iconic Painted Ladies near Alamo Park.

It had already been a lazy afternoon of Chantilly clouds in an Azure sky. Blanche had introduced Randy to a friend who owned a Renault that they had driven somewhat aimlessly. Kenny was still parking the car, also a somewhat aimless expedition in its own right. No Doris Day parking today.

Randy and Blanche took in the old photos adorning the walls -of Greece, Rome, the Pantheon, the Sistine Chapel, Notre Dame, etc. Inspired, one would be sure, by the concept of The Grand Tour, the days before the democratization of world travel. The black and white images lent their illusion of grandiosity to this small restaurant that was once a home.

Randy, while in the back seat of the somewhat oxidized Renault, didn’t have to roll down the window in order to ask the housewife carrying a bag of rubbish to the can, as the car stopped. The window had been broken for as long as Blanche could remember. It did not present a problem in the Mediterranean climate of San Francisco, unless it rained. But, then again, any car was a luxury. Even a dented, old Renault. Kenny called it “The Tin Can.”

The woman looked startled at first, with an orange tabby brushing up against her ankle. But then she warmed to the prospect of recommending a neighborhood mainstay. It was word-of-mouth success, or at least survival.

With Fuschia pantsuit and large-framed glasses, she stooped to lift the lid as she spoke. The can was dented to a similar extent as the Renault, but more battered and gray with grime. This would be a well-worn phrase, she was accustomed to recommending this restaurant.

The cat escaped down an alley after loosing any interest in anything. The wind rustled a wind chime somewhere. There was the general sense of disorientation. Where there is sunlight, there is the very possibility of faerie dust. The dust is to distract us from the grime.

Earlier that afternoon, Kenny had showed them yoga positions involving a stability ball and mat. He worked as an instructor as well as making extra money on the side selling succulent dish gardens which he constructed and designed himself. He would sell these to passersby on the side walk in front of his basement apartment which he shared with his cat, Binky. Binky was a rescue cat.

Randy and Blanche had decided it was easier to get out and walk while Kenny looked for parking. There were loading zones and meters. But, sometimes one did better in the alleys.

There was a strange familiarity to the place -the restaurant, the street. And, yet, it did not seem to correspond exactly to the coordinates on a map. Not that they had a map. Merely, there was the vague sense. The only certainty was their Northern relation to Market Street, Opera Plaza to the Northeast, and Hayes Valley to the West.

The woman was patient and kind. She effusively recommended the neighborhood restaurant, subsisting as it did on a casual lunch crowd, and the more ambitious Opera aficionados, with a curio and folded linens, and brass fixtures.

Finally, Kenny walked into the dining room. As the restaurant was nearly empty, seating a party of three presented no problem. The maitre d’ had already seated Blanche and Randy.

A nonchalant gesture made Randy notice the ring. It reminded Randy of Aurora Borealis; like crystal suspended in the sky reflecting color. Perhaps, even, from another planet. In reality, from our own Sun. And there could be any color-combination imaginable. There it was, the mind-bending reality of it. Did we ever see anything the way it really was? Square-cut and almost costume in its proportions, it competed with the silver, its genteel neighbor.

“I hear you have a nickname at the studio.” -Randy commented to Kenny.
After a hesitation Kenny said -”Orgasmatron” Chuckles all around.
With this Sleeper reference, Randy’s thoughts turned to Madrid.

“How is your Can-O-Coffee investment idea coming along?” -Blanche asked Randy. This was before he scored his one big investor.

Randy thought of that last board meeting: “The fundamentals just aren’t there.” Where would he get the desperately needed capital?

Do not wait for permission to pursue your dreams. The possibilities were staggering. Tactics and strategy, but most of all, tact were needed.

Too much was riding on this project. Too bad it was so ill-conceived.

The financiers be damned. But will he fall victim to The Trap-Door school of accounting and management? Small minds, little matter. Did Nokola Tesla ask anyone for permission first?

As there was no answer to the inquiry regarding his project: “How was your trip?”

“If Paris were in California, it would be Madrid.” Youthful laughter filled the nearly empty dining room that once housed a working-class family, long ago. This was from before the New Economy.

Randy thought of that long flight to Madrid. So much of traveling is taken up by the mundane tasks. A rude flight attendant can seem to make the trip take so much longer. Humankind was not meant to merely fly, but to soar.

(9-14-16: Murder in SF)

Spain 2016

                              Madrid has the most magnificent airport I have ever seen, better than anything in the U.S. Among the museums we visited were; Museo Del Prado, Museo Reina Sofia, and Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza. You can see paintings by Goya and Picasso, eat […]


  Fractured light the thick roots of a tree the sentiments that well from home and, a canopy An end run around everything the best is yet to come boldly, I investigate a better mouse trap The best ever, yet still, an impossible brightness forever, still my heart and still my soul To thee sinking […]

Destrucción Creativa

Recuerdo la resplandor de la amanecer esta mañana como si estuviera ayer. La imagen que aparece antes de mi mismo es como una foto sepia. El restaurante se llamó La Plat de Résistance. Era un restaurante francés. Era insolvente despues de una larga rato en que el restaurante más o menos estaba sobreviviendo. Por supuesto […]

Obra de Arte

Las gotas de lluvia se ven a través de la ventana. Yo había entrado al mismo tiempo que la tormenta comenzaba. La calle en frente del Café estaba llena. El ruido de la ciudad era interminable y tráfico tambien era insoportable. Pero, hay dentro estaba una pintura abstracta en la pared cerca de la mesa […]

To Die For

Mango Tango Strawberry Cherry Orange à l’orange Cherries outrageous Finally, Crème de menthe Peppermint What kind of beverage is fitting for the end of the World? At the edge of the Universe In a café. When the stars fold in on themselves La cerise With whipped cream clouds A dense overhang of Mousse au chocolat […]


A Bird-of-Paradise. Is there any other kind? An Azul cloud of Butterflies Ascending like confetti in reverse. A Weeping Willow Grasps its murky base. While, on the other side, A haphazard picket fence. A dog barks, And then withdraws. In the absence of an enemy not seen, A heartfelt silence ensues none the wiser. Encompassing […]

2016 Name of Company