From Polk and Beach to Hyde and Beach Street

In a bustling city like San Francisco it is difficult to stop and let’s say...smell the roses.  When I do stop and pay attention I see, hear and smell so many different things that make this city unique and loved by its local inhabitants. I want to take you on a short journey along just one of those streets today.  I'll start at the corner of Beach and Polk Street.  I am currently standing across the street from the Aquatic Park and its’ Maritime museum and on my left is the William Sonoma office and on my right is the Anna Mandara Vietnamese restaurant.  I know the General Manager there, Lam, he a really dedicated to serving his customers and is very reliable when hosting group functions and parties of any kind. I can't quite see it from where I am standing but I can smell the salt air coming off the Bay.  By now the tides are fighting over which direction, in or out, they want to go.  As they fight it out the slack line where the two opposing tides meet foams up and I can almost smell which tide is winning.  The flood tide always wins in my opinion because it has the whole Pacific Ocean behind it pushing all that water inland.   Whichever is winning it is creating a consternation of water that stirs up the smelly bottom silt.  Bicycling passed me is a couple out for a morning ride along the bay shore.  They are tourist I'm guessing because they are riding those rent-a-bikes from Adventure rides.  They look as though they are having fun from the smiles on their faces.  Looking down Beach Street again toward the Hyde Street trolley line I can see on the left what looks like an old worn out Safeway grocery cart heaping full of dirty blankets and flattened cardboard boxes.  Strapped on top are full boxes and a bucket full of other stuff of who knows what else.  Tied onto all four corners are 32 quart trash bags.  The two in the front appear to be for the crushed aluminum can inventory.  On the rear corners are the smashed plastics inventory.  As I get closer I can see a pair of worn out shoes with their tongue’s hanging out sitting under the park bench looking as tired as the cart.  Now that I am only fifteen feet away from the bench I notice movement coming from underneath another set of blankets spread over the entire length of the bench.  From beneath the coverings a pair of tired eyes pier out following my passing. It’s hard not to stare back but I know I have to be strong and not make eye contact.  From the tired look on his face he is the likely caretaker of the grocery cart including the recyclables.     I begin to step lively now to hurry passed so as not to encourage a conversation over change.  Looking even further down Beach Street now the number “19” MUNI bus sits at rest like it seems to always be when I pass this way. I rarely see it move.  I wonder sometimes if it is parked there to give the impression of mass transit like those abandon police cars you see in the suburbs causing you to tap your brakes just for moment just in case.  Budget cuts have warranted such clever tactics.  As I pass by the bus on the right-hand side of the walkway street vendors are setting up for today's business. Jewelry, photographs of points of interest, and amateur artists are waiting to duplicate in charcoal on 20lb copier paper a would-be tourist that mistakenly stops only to admire the talent.  The trolley line is already forming with tourist who for five dollars will ride up Hyde Street all the way to Jackson and maybe over to the Mason-Powell Street line and then finally ending up downtown on Market Street. I haven't ridden on the trolley myself yet and I’m not sure I ever will. I usually have a place to go when I am riding public transportation so I seldom ride for the sake of riding a piece of equipment.  The famous Buena Vista restaurant (BVR) is just across the street off my right shoulder now.  Dead ahead and sitting on the corner of Hyde and Beach Street is a Starbucks.  Decision time now, Venti Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte or a smooth Irish coffee made famous in San Francisco by the BVR.  I am a traditionalist at heart so I am going for the Irish coffee and I need a break and it is almost lunch time anyway.  When I come back let me tell you about the latte on the Coit Tower stairs that didn't make it to the top.