Oh to be young in the 80's in San Francisco!

A couple of nights ago I had this weird dream where I was desperately trying to write a blog entry about how wonderful my misspent youth in San Francisco was in the 80's. Well, I'm very bored and I just saw a bit of Purple Rain and now I am inspired.

When I moved to San Francisco I went with my family I had dropped out of school after 3 not so successful years at ASU. My GPA when I left was a very respectable 2.0. Let's just say that parties were more interesting than class. There's a joke I like to tell on myself. I was going to an American History exam after spending a few hours reading the textbook to prepare myself for the final. The problem? I couldn't remember where the class was. I went the first day, but sort of never went at any other time. I'm told that people have nightmares about such things, me, I just live it. Sort of takes the bite out of that sort of fear.

Anywho, we moved to San Francisco. I was out of work and my job was to see that my sister got to SFSU while my Mom worked. My Dad and my uncle were still in Phoenix trying to sell the house. I spent a lot of time alone in our apartment. Sort of like now. I had zero dollars when I moved, so I had no money to do anything with. I did file for unemployment and oddly enough I got some, so after a couple of weeks I started getting checks for something like $82 per week. Judy started to joke that I was so starved for something to do that my conversations started "Today on the Muppet Show..."

After a stint doing phone sex (not nearly as interesting or fun or sexy as you would think,) I got a real job at MCI. It was for $6.00 per hour in Orinda, Ca. I remember thinking that it would be okay until I found something better. At MCI I met Al and Carlos and we became friends. The three of us would get together and go out in The City on the weekends. They decided to move the office into The City, south of Market Street after about a year and that's when things really got interesting.

A bunch of us from the office would go out on Fridays after work. Cadillac Bar, where I was introduced to tequila poppers. The new Hard Rock on Van Ness, where I'd eat the tuna sandwiches because that was the decade I didn't eat meat. We'd start out somewhere respectible and end up in some really dodgy places well after midnight. The Stud, The End Up and Hamburger Mary's to name a few. Denny's in Japantown, or Clown Alley to cap off the night, then I'd head home in my Duster across the Bay Bridge into Alameda county.

My mom would wake me up on Saturday mornings so I could drive her back into San Francisco to shop at Union Square. She'd buy me a strong cup of coffee and I would wait for her to try on elusive black pants, or white silk blouses or black pumps. We'd have lunch at the St. Francis hotel where our waiter Manny would fawn all over her while I'd eat lobster ravioli.

I decided to go back to school in 85 and enrolled at SFSU with my sister. She lived in the dorms on campus, I commuted from Pinole, a small community at the edge of Alameda county. I paid my parents rent and I came and went as I pleased. I paid $400 per month. Even in the 80's San Francisco was expensive, but when I think about it, that's pretty high.

For a year an a half I went to the swing shift at work so I could go to school in the mornings. I'd wake up at 5:30 AM, shower and dress and drive to the bus stop to pick up two commuters so they could save on the fare and I could save the tolls and time across the bridge in the moring. There's a slang word for it now, Slugs.

I'd drop them off at the Transbay Terminal and I'd go hang out at the studio of my favorite radio show, Alex Bennet on Live 105. He had comedians live in the studio and I got to meet all kinds of guys when they were first starting out. Dana Gould, Tom Kinney, Greg Proops and a guy named Stephen Pearl, from whom Robin Willims stole material so prodigiously that it ruined his career.

I'd head on into school, do a couple of classes. I'd let my sister make me a bagel at the stand where she worked, or a sandwich at that stand when she changed jobs. If I stayed out partying too late, I'd just sleep over on her floor in the dorm. Or in the car in the parking lot. It seemed normal to me.

I'd go to work from 12:30 to 9:30 and then out to party or home to sleep. And then I'd wake up and do it all over again. I'm sleepy just thinking about it now. If anyone wonders why I don't drink and I go to bed early, I'll tell them, "I did it all, twice, in my twenties and I don't have any more of it left in me." Seriously, I get hammered with half a glass of wine.

Al and Carlos moved on, I hung out with Joe, who is still one of my best friends. Joe has lived in the same rent controlled apartment for the past 25 years. It's on the corner of Pierce and Hayes facing Alamo Square park. He's got a parking space in the garage. I believe that in the 80's he paid $900 per month for it, he might pay $2000 now. Market value is easily twice that. He'd let me sleep on his couch and he'd make breakfast in the morning of Eggo waffled, fresh fruit, coffee and oj. He's a good host.

His bathroom is completely retro in beautiful seafoam green tiles. He has a window that has a great view north and on a clear day you can see the Golden Gate. I loved to take a shower there, with the window open letting in the cold air, looking at his view. He has always had the map of the world shower curtain, because the green in it matches the tile.

Joe liked to go to Alta Plaza on Filmore and The Midnight Sun. The former was an upscale place where we'd get a booth in the corner and hold court. The Midnight Sun is a dive where they show campy clips and videos on televisions. After a while the patrons look like trout while staring at the televisions. As we moved into different jobs, we'd all gather at Joe's apartment for cocktails while he "fluffed" (not as in a porno movie, more as in getting pretty for the night.) Then we'd hit the town.

Sometimes I'd go out with my girlfriends, mostly to Union Street, but it wasn't as much fun as going out with my gay guy friends. Union Street is a meat market, with bridge and tunnel types trying to get lucky in the city. Tres Tacky.

I had cute outfits to go out in, I still buy those types of clothes, but I have nowhere to wear them.

It was a strange time. So many people I knew were sick and dying from AIDS. It was never out in the open. You'd realize that you hadn't seen someone for a while and then you'd be visiting in the hospital, then you'd be at the memorial. My mother was concerned for me because she didn't think it was normal for someone to know so many sick people. Word.

I remember a lot of the milestones about AIDS. I remember when they were debating closing the bathouses, I remember when they found the retrovirus, I remember when they came up with the diagnostic test.

I got an apartment in Oakland and a job in San Jose, that's a 4o mile commute, 80 if you do it down and back. My building was managed by a guy I worked with and he filled the place with people he knew from work. It was a big party, on Sunday's we all get together and eat a meal out back on the picnic table. After a year or so I couldn't hack the commute anymore, so I moved to San Jose.

I got a second job at Macy's and I was still running around like a loon. On stressful nights when I didn't have to work, I'd call up a friend and we'd go to Santa Cruz to ride the roller coaster, eat pizza and watch the ocean.

I had a little apartment and it was perfect for me. My friend Donna semi-moved in and we'd stay up all hours talking, drinking coffee and laughing like crazy. Donna and I are still friends.

I know I'm rambling, but compared to now, my life was so full then. I'm so bored now and I'm wishing that I had a little bit of the life I used to have. Maybe that's why I'm trying for jobs that are more entry-level, I'm trying to recapture that part of my life where your co-workers are your friends.

*sigh*

Okay, the forced march up memory lane is done. Back to the blog already in progress.