Knee Deep in the Rivers of Rage

The Author, in an elevator on his birthday.

My birthday. And what? A life of missed opportunities, regret, pathetically mangled relationships, and injuries. It's easy for your author to dwell on these when sober.

However, some things I have managed to not completely screw up. The Offspring, for example. He's pretty cute. The wife isn't bad, either. I own a house. I have friends, a job, and a cat. I put myself through college - no mean feat, even if it was a state school. And as a young man, I achieved a reasonable level of success in competitive swimming and water polo. So I really have nothing to complain about.

Especially now that I have a NEW THERMOS.

Yes, it's engraved. With my initials: CE

So the wife and I drove down to SECRET SURF TOWN in anticipation of the so-called "100 Year Swell" generated by a massive storm off New Zealand. Drove all night, and Friday morning I was greeted with this. How perfectly goddamned serene. Yeah, the south-facing summer spots were breaking more than usual, but come on.
Now, I know what you're thinking at this point: "what a snob, The Author must be. Is he some sort of hot dog surfer who turns his nose up such waves?"
Answer: NO!
I'm actually quite clumsy. And I haven't been surfing much since the arrival of the offspring. In fact, I was relieved that the surf wasn't huge and pounding and other dirty-sounding adjectives.
What is the purpose of this posting? Please tell me. Bray, bray.

Gabrielle T. offered to lead Amber the Art Director and I to a vegetarian place in C-town. One which serves gluten "meat." However, this place was closed on Wednesdays. What - is it a museum? Do they not deliver fresh Gluten Meat until Thursday? Regardless, the Golden Dragon (816 Washington, between Grant & Stockton)


Inside, we were greeted by a nice, unsmiling woman who kindly ushered us into an elevator.

Once upstairs, God knows how many flights, we were led into this sumptuously appointed room.

Note the fearsome "Golden Dragons" on the columns! Such workmanship, you won't find at SF's new schmancy-pants over-priced food museums. Speaking of class, the tables were covered with cloths of flimsy white plastic. The food was good, we had lettuce cups and prawn salad with papaya sauce. Through in some dim sum for bulk, and we were content. Sadly, no spontaneous lectures were given, though not for lack of stage & podium. There is also a piano, but I wisely chose not to photograph it.

And what dessert is sweeter than a baffling fortune?

Thursday, Sept. 15, 2005 - pay day.
After lunch at the Golden Star Vietnamese (previously reported) Amber the Art Director and I were lured to the Eastern Bakery (720 Grant, @ Commercial) by this menacing Chinese graffiti.

A look in the window told us that they have apple and custard pie for only $3.95. Rounded up, that's only $4!
We stood in line and took it all in. "Did you know," I bellowed to the gnomes in my head, "that this was the first bakery in Chinatown?" "> "Did you also know," I gravely informed, "that Clinton was hosted here with a handshake FIRST?" Note: bugzapper.
Amber did some recon while I was waiting for my apple pie. In the back, there's a sad, spacious room where you can eat your pastries (or dim sum) and drink coffee (or tea).
I think that this might be one of those places where all the dim sum comes from.

Comforting, was the fact that it was packed with locals, despite it being on Grant, one of the few streets in C-Town that tourists dare tread.
A nice girl boxed up the pie.
And I posed with the pie outside. My life is one of constant danger.

Question: What is difference between American Ketchup

and Russian Vodka?


Answer: Much difference.

Very funny. Yes.

Thursday, September 8 2005. Amber the Art Director and I spent a grey afternoon at the famous Hang Ah Tea Room (1 Pagoda, off Sacramento between Grant & Stockton). Not knowing where we were going, we left it up to fate. Then, a wood elf leapt from the forest canopy and handed us a magical flyer, which transported us up half a block to the corner of Sacramento & Pagoda.

The restaurant is a branding nightmare, as they have at least six different signs, each one completely different from the other.

At least each sign is cool looking. Or not. I am an impartial participant. There was another grand entryway, something which most Chinatown restaurants have in common.
And stepping into the dining room was like being a child in the 70s - again.
Lots of green, yellow and orange. The wood elves seem to have been doing a good job of recruiting that day, as there were several other tourists. Funny, because it doesn't really feel at all like a tourist place.
The dim sum was tasty, but exactly like all other dim sum. I'm convinced it comes from the same place, some central dim sum manufacturing and distribution center. Possibly under ground with the other utilities.
Unlike the last three restaurants visited, Hang Ah gave out fortune cookies with the check.

What wussy fortunes. But who am I to judge? I am but an impartial participant, adrift in the cosmic currents of fate. Thank you, wood elves!

September 1, 2005. I'm joined by Gabrielle T., currently freelancing nearby. We mosey down Grant, past some great signage.
Determined to eat at the first place which I had not yet eaten at (except for Sabra and The Far East), we happened upon Kan's - nestled at 708 Grant, between Sacramento & Clay. We surely would have passed it, had it not been for the friendly urging of the woman stationed outside. I could not bring myself to photograph her, but I did snap a picture of her streetside podium.

(Note, before dining, Gabrielle found a wonderfully quaint Chinese machine that spits out 20 dollar bills!)

Up the stairs and inside, we were seated by the balcony in a large, spacious, clean-smelling hall.

The dim sum came at rapid pace. Anglo-Saxon businesspeople casually dined and discussed million-dollar deals over tea and savory Nests of Flavor.

Over all, it is a fine place to eat lunch. Many dishes featured shrimp, and some, pork. It cost $20 for the both of us. Um...I can't think of more restaurant stuff...There's an nifty-looking bar, too. I really need to do more drinking.