New York country

May 26th, 2005

Last time I was hanging in a New York Country Song my Uncle John was dead. We had always had great adventures with Uncle John and our cousins so there was no question about going to his funeral. Afterwards me and Unca Dan went to his house, a rambling broken down federal style farm house at the end of a Steven King road. There was a HUGE barn across from the house and a children of the corn field surrounding everything. Big as an ocean, with a star filled sky covering everything like a blanket. All told, very cool and comforting...very Uncle John-ish.

After hanging with the extended family for a while we found ourselves at a roadhouse, drinking drafts, listening to Molly Hatchet, Lynyrd Skynyrd and eating pickled eggs. I'll never forget those eggs for as long as I live! God they were bad! Sour and cardboard-ish.

Naturally, that was a great time! Hanging with my bro. Telling stories of Uncle John, Bernie & Timmy; spinning straw to gold, crushing coal into diamonds, molding Kodak moments into my mind.

Fog City - San Francisco

Fog City Diner on a decidedly non foggy night in San Francisco was the right choice tonight. I just walked 45 minutes along the Embarcadero from 3rd St in SOMA taking in the fading light reflecting off the bay and watching the Bay Bridge twinkling to life. I kept an eye out looking for the right place for a respite from the day's grind. Hot and hungry I was lured in by the gleaming polished chrome facade and shining neon sign of the Fog City Diner. Soon I had a perfectly cold glass of Anchor Steam beer and a menu.

Seated at the bar I struck up a great conversation with a law professor in town from Washington D.C. about photography. He was going to see a Hiroshi Sugimoto photography show at the DeYoung Museum. We talked about composition and abstraction, and the talent to see a picture and create art where others don't. I reflected about Ansel Adams and Annie Leibowitz and all the great photographs I try to create myself.

The Fog City Diner is not a diner in the traditional food sense. It's a beautifully detailed restaurant with a dark wood and arched beadboard ceiling. The bar is an underlit marble top with a polished chrome ceiling and a chrome and mirrored back wall. The walls are dark polished wood and the floor is a beautiful tile framed with a checkerboard pattern. It has the feel of a luxury club car from the twenties. The waiters and chefs all wear white chef's coats.

People don't come too look at the surroundings though. It's the food that's the magnet. I had chipotle crusted pork tenderloins with grilled asparagus and roasted corn coulis along with a salad of butter lettuces with spiced walnuts, pears and blue cheese. Not that I don't appreciate an open faced turkey sandwich or a burger and fries but yeah, this is not your "fathers" diner.