Archive for March 17th, 2010

We went to San Francisco. First we got lost in the Twin Peaks area, then we went to Golden Gate Park, saw the Japanese Garden, the Fisherman’s Wharf, where we went on a tour of the U.S.S. Pampalino, a WWII submarine. Then we lost the car (or better to say, we forgot where we had parked it) and walked up Russian Hill twice looking for it. We stood with a map on a corner, looking perplexed, and friendly residents came up and asked if they could help, but it’s difficult to help someone remember where they parked their car. Finally, however, College Girl remembered that there was an elementary school a block up from where we parked, we told this to a boy about 15, who was doing skateboard tricks up and down a steep side street, and he pointed the way down Jones street. “I told you it wasn’t this high up,” she told me and I surrendered.

“You’re right, it’s a good thing I’ve got you along or I would have been hiring a cab to help me comb the streets to find my car.”

She smiled in triumph. She probably realized I’d been questioning her navigation skills this morning. The disagreement harks back to when we were traveling down Hayes toward Golden Gate Park, when for some reason she told me to go left on Divisadero, and that’s how we wound up first in the Castro district and then in Twin Peaks. We only skirted the Castro, so I did not see any young men with no shirts on, wearing chain harnesses, like I did last time I was in S.F. Or perhaps that style of dress is “out” now. What do I, the most casual of observers, know of any of this?

Anyway, after a tour of posh hill residents with Porsches in front, including those around Twin Peaks, the highest point in San Francisco (elevation 980) we found our way back — though I had to pull over three to four times for map conferences with College Girl. We saw the Japanese Tea Garden, the Academy of Sciences from the outside — it was $25 to get in per person so we skipped it. This was disappointing but there was so much else to see. I never did take them over the Golden Gate. We also ran out of time for the garment district. Maybe we should do that this morning.

College Girl reads this now and asserts, forcefully, “It was not my fault you got yourself lost. You got off the freeway and thought you could find it by yourself, I only started helping after you got lost.”

She reminds me of myself, somehow, of many years back, and I suddenly feel sympathetic for my husband, who probably had his navigation skills questioned in the same way . I am sorry, Dean, for being so smug. I promise to be more understanding in the future.