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Discover how ancient Persians beat the heat without electricity, and witness the revival of wind catchers in modern architecture.

Iman and David Bowie.

Sunday morning, I slept in late (for me) and took myself to Gus’s Haight Street Market a couple blocks away for a breakfast burrito and Earl Grey tea. Enjoyed them at Tim’s breakfast table while catching up on internet. After confirming that Tim couldn’t join me, I took the train downtown. I cruised through Union Square (overrated, mostly concrete and homeless people, plus a few planterboxes and a huge fallic obelisk topped with a statue that one can’t appreciate because it’s SO high up there, and surrounded on all sides by high-end jewelry stores).

My intention was to take a cable car to the Cable Car Museum (which also houses the cable mechanisms and car barn), but on a Sunday at mid-day, it was impossible. The cars were all jammed with tourists. So I called a taxi to take me there.

The entire building is pleasantly infused with the smell of oil and hot steel and the sound of the engines running the giant 8-foot flywheels. The cables (separate cables for separate lines) run on a continuous loop, and must be repaired and spliced back together regularly. This happens between 1am and 5am.

There is a 19th century cable car that survived the great 1906 earthquake and fires: (Slideshow)

Flywheels from a different angle:

Brake mechanisms: (Slideshow)

The “truck” that all cable cars are built upon:

More photos: (Slideshow)

Sadly, I did spot TWO boneheaded spelling/grammar errors in their signage: (Slideshow)

Hit the museum store and got a bunch of good souvenirs. I’ll show you all the souvenirs later.

Took another taxi back to Market and Powell, then the N train home. Spotted a sign on a post advertising an estate sale nearby with “original art.” I went by and found stacks and stacks of large boring charcoal figure drawings. Nothing else interesting. Did some souvenir shopping on Haight and had a refreshing beer at Murio’s Trophy Room, then a rum punch at Hobson’s Choice. Right on the corner of Haight and Clayton (one block from Haight & Ashbury), this friendly local’s bar has about 60 linear feet of floor to ceiling windows, from which some of the best people-watching in the world can be viewed. Hippies, Asian tourists, hobos, locals, exhibitionists, hot girls, hot boys, a dude on a motorbike spewing bubbles in his wake, tourists from the midwest on double-decker buses, etc. I sat in a corner booth and divided my attention between my book (The Shining, so much better than the movie) and people-watching.

Tim had finished his work and texted me, and we met at Hobson’s, had a punch. Then we went to Zam Zam for a real cocktail. Sidecars. Tim doesn’t usually drink, but he was willing to gamely join his houseguest.

I took a little video, too:

Then we took the bus to Japantown and got ramen at Waraku. It was SO delicious.

Returned via bus (more on the Muni’s Clipper card later), and since it was just getting dark, Tim wanted me to go with him to Golden Gate park with Zena to “see something.” He took us on a circuitous route, just so I could get an “oh wow” moment as we rounded a corner to reveal this outdoor art installation, a ceramic tree with hanging translucent LED box lights displaying constantly-changing colors and patterns. Called Entwined: Elder Mother, apparently. Someone happened to be playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata on a guitar, and some chick was doing interpretive dance (which luckily you can’t see much of because shadows). It was just magical, especially the fire effect at the end. Sorry about the wind noise; it’s just intermittent.

Got back and we watched Dune 2 on Tim’s giant screen TV. At least, most of it. My eyes were falling down and we finished the last hour the next night.

Next post: The Beach!

(Warning: Nudity in this post)

I visited my friend Tim and his husband Alex in San Francisco again! Had a morning flight out, and got through security with ZERO lines – unprecendented. Had some breakfast and mimosas at the airport bar. I love airport bars. They have some of the best people-watching anywhere, everyone’s jazzed about their trip, and at an international airport, no one will blink if you’re drinking at 8:00 am, because who knows what time zone you just came from! (No, I don’t normally drink in the morning, but I find that, in addition to Dramamine, having a bit of a buzz on really helps with my motion sickness.)

I was in the 2nd row. Soon the captain came out from the flightdeck, and was talking with the stewards about “If we don’t leave right now, we’ll have an hour delay.” He showed them his tablet, and I could see 6 or 8 yellow dots all lined up. Probably planes that were getting ready to push out. They got on the phone and confirmed everyone was aboard, and 90 seconds later, doors were shut and we were rolling. Raced down the taxiway at like 35-40 mph, and when we turned onto the runway, he didn’t even slow or stop there, just accelerated right through the turn and off we went. As a result of the captain’s quick action, we ended up landing 22 minutes EARLY.

Flight was nice (no screaming kids! free chardonnay!) and I arrived at Tim’s house in the upper Haight neighborhood before 1pm. I got settled and called Rich to let him know I’d arrived safely. Then we took Zena with us on a walk into Golden Gate Park, and then got coffee at Snowbird. Then we took the N train to Dubose Park and walked through this massive dog show event happening there. Tim got some duck treats for Zena.

From there we walked to the Castro district. Got cocktails at the famous Twin Peaks Tavern and sat outside on the patio. While I was inside waiting for our drinks, I spotted a dude leaving with this beautiful white cockatoo on his shoulder. As I was coming out with our drinks, he returned, with the cockatoo walking ahead of him, carrying his own leash in his beak. SO cute. The dude and his friends were sitting at a table just inside the window Tim and I were sitting in front of. I pointed out the bird to Tim.

As we were getting caught up, Tim raised his camera. Behind my back, two nudists were stolling, wearing sneakers and baseball caps and nothing in between. My expression is everything, and the best part is I didn’t even know they were there. This was just good timing on Tim’s part:

They are technically supposed to have a sock over their junk, but it’s the Castro, and if no cops are present, it’s unlikely anyone will call one.

We saw two different pairs of nudists, plus a master & slave duo wearing full black leather outfits complete with buttless chaps and a leash.

So when I went back inside to get another round, I approached the bird guy and commented on the bird’s beauty. He immediately offered to introduce us, and next thing I know, there’s a gorgeous, lively, social bird on my wrist. His name is Casper. He is 18 years old. I don’t remember the dude’s name (maybe Phil). I pointed out Tim at our table outside, and he said he’d come out for a visit.

And true to his word, he came out a few minutes later and we all chatted for a bit, while Casper pranced around on our shoulders and we took pictures. He was just adorable, making little cooing sounds and playing with, but not pulling at, our hair. His feathers were SO soft. Tim and I agreed that Casper was a boy magnet and must get that dude laid every night. (Slideshow)

With Tim: (Slideshow)

The couple next to us got to meet Casper next, and he was flapping his wings and vogueing the whole time! We felt a little jealous.

We took the train back, somewhat sunburnt by now, and hit Haight Street. Saw one of the same nudists up there (they’re following us!) and Tim encouraged me to take a picture with him. One of my rules for vacations is: Try Not To Say No To Anything (Within Reason). He and his cock ring were very gracious. (Slideshow)

Then we got a light dinner (Dramamine does weird things to my appetite) at a Chinese place on Haight called Papa’s. I got a vegetable soup that was just what I needed. Went to bed early. I was pooped.

Next post: Cable Car Museum

A frozen waterfall in the Alps, Italy.

Organist Jonathan Scott performs Ride of the Valkyries (Die Walküre) by Richard Wagner (1813-1883) at the organ of Rochdale Town Hall, Rochdale, UK.

An F-22 Raptor.

The In and Out Cat Song

From “Prairie Home Comanion.”

Evening thunderstorm with continuous lightning at Tres Piedres, New Mexico, by photographer John Holder.