Cougars & Blues at The Union Room

Last night, I was invited to see my old friend Paul Steward and his dad Rich play a fill-in gig at The Union Room in what I also learned is sometimes referred to as the "Tendernob"-an area of Nob Hill on its border with the Tenderloin. Paul and Rich have played together in their band Twice as Good all over the country, maintaining standing gigs in Lake and Mendocino Counties, and my old stomping grounds, Santa Rosa.

The Union room is this tiny lounge above Biscuits & Blues and next to Jack in the Box at the corner of Geary and Mason. I got upstairs and ordered a drink just as Paul and Rich were starting their first set. Excluding the bartenders and doorman, I counted 6 people in attendance. I felt guilty, so I paid the cover, even though nobody was enforcing it.



It really wasn't long before the tiny lounge began to fill. I tucked my camera bag and jacket behind the bar and moved into the growing crowd of people. With the people came the dinners. They looked amazingly good, and the prices weren't bad, but Jack in the Box took care of me.

True to form, Paul and Rich entertained. Paul, the ever-consummate musician moved between various guitars, a keyboard, saxophone, and a harmonica while Rich held a steady rhythm, swaying slightly as he played. The set was eclectic too, especially given their relative lack of equipment and personnel.

"I'm gonna play a little keys now," said Paul moving to his keyboard. Stopping himself mid-sit to adjust his mic and address the audience, he added, "and by little, I mean it has half the keys of a normal one."



The show was great, and it was nice to see Paul and Rich again. They ran through three sets of chugging 12-bar blues progressions and all the wining and wailing that makes blues guitar what it is.



While this was a really fun outing, I felt that it gave me a lot of insight into the practice of journalism, particularly interviewing.

Somewhere around the second set, the cougars began to stalk around the outer perimeter of the lounge. Actually, it was really more like a gaggle of saber-tooths. I talked to a lot, but one in particular, a very intoxicated 'Miss Margaret' of Noe Valley provided the best conversation. I started with the basics, 'what's your name?', 'do you live here in town?', that kind of thing. Then, I had the unmitigated pleasure of meeting her daughter, who unfortunately lives in Vermont. She said to me, "journalism is about specifics, you're asking way to broad-a questions!"

That really was my intention, though. Especially given what I got out of it. Margaret started getting very friendly, and then a little too friendly. She is absolutely one of those people that grabs your arm when they talk to you.

Margaret told me all about the Southern Pacific Railroad and how she used to be a conductor until they made her a trainer. She lived in San Francisco in '68 and apparently knew Janis Joplin and the guys in Starship. She's now an community activist doing outreach for victims of domestic violence. She's fantastic, and I hope to talk more with her, but I'm going to do it when she's sober. She leans in a little to far.



After the night wound down, I headed back for Powell Station. I talked to some more homeless people then got on the train.

This neighborhood is definitely more fun at night.