Chicken John is another weird story. We met Chicken John the year we lived in the Clark (our 1964 motorhome that was our wedding present-part of our extended honeymoon). We got into San Francisco knowing not one soul, and got directions to a junkyard that might have the part we thought we needed to “fix” the Clark. That whole year was spent searching for the elusive last part we would need to finally start our trip, but we didn’t know that yet. We really thought the junkyard guy could do it. When Zac explained what we needed to the guy while I waited in the Clark that could not be turned off, it came up that we were a tuba/accordion duo, and the guy just picked up the phone and called Chicken John and handed the phone to Zac. That night we had a gig. Not only was Chicken John the patron saint of cool venue that loved us, but he worked on Dodge Darts, which happened to have the same engine as our Clark Motorhome. The Slant 6. The rest is history, and we have since maintained a mutual respect of our mutual idiocity, and consider Chicken John a kindred spirit, moving through this world as only he can.
Kids sleeping quarters
One of Chicken John’s many projects was a warehouse he had just bought back in the Clark days, and when we returned, we could see the fruits of his labor. It is now a large venue, with mysterious rooms everywhere, with an untold amount of people coming in and out of there, a radio station booth in the from room, a stage, a circle bed, and a teardrop trailer from maybe the ’40’s up in a loft above the shower. And a nautical theme running through the place, kind of like your big ship in the city. What a work of art this place is, and to think of how many people benefit from it! We were to stay in the venue room, and the kids got the trailer. They were absolutely delighted.
When we arrived mid afternoon, we receive word that his dog, Dammit, had since died. More people attended the funeral than recycled newspaper last year. We got the lowdown on the rules there (none) and got the wireless password. I took a nap on the round bed, while the kids explored. I had to emphasize the importance of common sense in these environments, as the banister and the loft was not up to daycare safety standards. You know, if it looks like you could fall off and careen to your death, well, you probably can. So don’t. Things like that.
Rocking the laptops
That night, our gig at the Socha Cafe was only three blocks away. We had some confusion, as their website had listed another band to play, and after Austin, I take that stuff kind of seriously. We couldn’t find anyone to call, but eventually contacted the band that was scheduled, and confirmed that they weren’t playing. We showed up to the cafe early, so we could eat and drink merrily, as that was a big part of our paycheck, and we were greeted by Sara and Lisa, the friendliest baristas I have ever met. Thank GOODNESS. You know, the whole cool movement is really boring, and at the end of the day, it just nice to meet some NICE people! They were super dynamic and very friendly, and we ordered up some food and coffee, and settled in the back, on the big velvet couch. On the front board, it said “The Internant Mocha Locals”. I think that was supposed to be us, and I can’t tell if the guy who booked us was just outwardly mocking us. I’m pretty sure he was. Luckily we are pretty resilient.
Another gig, another nap
As soon as the food arrived, Zephyr fell asleep, and slept through the entire gig. That is always nice for Eureka, as she is a bit of a loner, and can definitely figure out how to kill some time by herself. When we started playing, there were two people in the cafe, and they both had earphones on and were working on their computers. It didn’t look good, but I’m used to working at this level of fame, and am not afraid of the empty room. During the first song, our favorite ladies Delilah and Karen show up, see the empty room, and start dialing. Before you know it, we had a whole pack of wild women in there, drinking wine and dancing on the tabletops.
Annetta!
Then Annetta shows up! What a strange world. Back in the day, my friend Betsy, who I worked with in Glacier National Park, spent a couple of years in Oakland studying dance, and she rented a room from this mysterious older hippy couple, Greg and Annetta. They lived a life we had only heard was possible, and when I would drive through and visit Betsy, we would always marvel at Greg and Annetta, and we had many a great time in their house. So to see Annetta again, and to tickle that faint memory, was invigorating. I just need more time to hear some stories. We played till it was time to close shop, and chatted with Sara the barista for a while, told diesel mercedes stories, and told them to come visit us. I believe they actually might.
Scones and tea with Karen
The next day, we got up and met 5 new people in the kitchen, and drank coffee until it was time to yell at the kids for bad behavior that was caused by our over consumption of caffeine. Then we went over to Karen and Delilah’s house to drink more coffee. Their backyard literally touches Chicken John’s backyard. We stayed till it was time to go, which meant just enough time for some lunch and a general tour of the house, which was flat gorgeous. When we caught up with these ladies last, they were in negotiations for this house, which was a former adult film location, and quite the bargain as the owner had fallen into financial ruin. Go figure.
The kids and their rock band
We decided to go for a walk, which meant heading down Mission St. till we found something to do. Of course, we were really hoping to find a panaderia, where we could get a whole tray of mexican baked goods for a few bucks. We walked, and enjoyed the bright colors of all the shops, the dense storefronts, the different people. We ended up at a thrift store, where I scored Eureka some shoes and some socks that said, “Thank God I’m Female”, which is a somewhat awkward interpretation of the girl power movement. We fed the kids a bunch of baked goods, and headed back to Karen and Delilah’s for dinner before our gig that night. Dinner was delicious, but the best part was the company, and the group of creative people that seem to follow, and the music playing that follows every meal at their house. Before you know it, we are all playing music worthy of a Puntamayo recording, and of course, it is time for us to go.
Rocking out at Karen and Delilah's
This night we head to Chicken John’s girlfriends shop, Ritual Roastery, also 6 blocks away in the mission. But the weather had turned, and the day was windy and cold and it was a much better day to buy coffee than to play for it. But, that is our life. We go to work when everyone else gets off. Except paramedics. and ranchers. and a few others. Wo is me.
Three cheers for the Itinerant Locals!
Ritual Roastery was full of people, of bright, hip people with electronics I’ve never seen before, and their level of coffee snobbery was truly admirable. They had individual cone drip coffees, a series of 4 glass funnels on a bar, so you could have your perfectly crafted drip coffee just for you. I like it. There was a little stage, and bless the woman’s heart who was sitting at a nonassuming table right by the stage doing homework, she unfortunately chose the chair closest to the accordion. When we started playing, she politely packed up and got moving. SOMEWHERE QUIET. In usual form, Zephyr fell asleep just as we started playing, and Moez, Shannon, and Dane were there on the couch to watch him. Eureka got really hyper and ran around taking pictures of everyone, and Chicken John showed up with a league of friends to sit and heckle us. We were rather loud, and Zac got to stomping so hard during the show that he literally stomped the grout out of the tile. To make matters worse, the guy who had built the stage was watching the show. I guess he’ll have more work now. The shop closed at 10, and our gig was only one hour, and we had drank all the coffee one human could possibly take, so we packed up and headed back to the warehouse. Brrrrrrr, you cannot imagine how cold it was.
Moez, Shannon, and Dane. Watching Zephyr sleep.
We love crowds!!!
Silence. Aaaaaaah, that was the end of our work days in San Francisco. After this, we just had a day of sightseeing, which in its own way is certainly work. When we got up the next morning, we formulated a plan to head down to the Wharf and go to the Musee’ Mechanique. A great recommendation from Shannon and Moez. It is amazing how long it can take to implement a trip like this, and in order to keep a relaxed feel to the day, I had to let go of all hope of accomplishment, and let the kids lead a bit on this day. That means walking slow, and learning to not say out loud things like, “hurry up”, or “what are you DOING?????” or “EAT YOUR LUNCH, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?????” Those of you without small kids might think that sounds easy, but it is not. Maybe the hardest part of this entire trip is remaining patient. No, I just thought it through. It IS the hardest part. Hands down.
The immediate effects of chocolate on kid behavior.
We went to Fisherman’s Wharf, we went to the cheesy Ghiradelli gift shop, ate samples, watched a chinese man hand paint Eureka’s name with leather brushes for $6, skipped the chowder in the bowl thing, and skipped buying things from gift shops. That pretty much took all day, and we got back to the mission around 7:30 and ate at a vietnemese restaurant.
Eureka, watching the artist at work.
After this it was back to the warehouse for laundry and repacking, and our friend Ammi Emergency came over to watch us reorganize our lives. The bottle of wine really helped me organize things, and by midnight only one load of washing was done. How does this happen?!!! Ammi Emergency is a friend of ours who moved to Hot Springs for a year after Hurricane Katrina annihilated New Orleans. She left Hot Springs after a year, and moved to San Francisco, where she has been having some good luck with her writing. I don’t quite remember the details, but she has some sort of paid writing 2 years gig from Stanford. Good for her.
Foot Massage at the Musee' Mechanique
Are we there yet?
The next morning Karen picked us up from the warehouse and took us out to Emeryville to catch the California Zephyr to Sacramento.