Something From Nothing

I was sitting in Union Square last weekend drinking coffee, reading a copy of the Street Sheet and thinking to myself, "oooh la-la," when I got an unexpected call from my Aunt, who with my Uncle was in town for the night to see Steely Dan. They were totally lost trying to find their way to their hotel off the square. "Hey, alright," I thought to myself as I headed off toward the Barbary Coast Trail (Maiden Lane) to connect with the 'F' streetcar on Market Street and meet them at the Ferry Building.

Street Sheet is sold for $1 as an alternative to panhandling

I'd given up trying to find more folks to talk to that could give some balance to this Tonga thing, especially since I wasn't really up for scaling Nob Hill and I'm quite frankly sick of tiki and rum. I'd decided that I was going to shift and take care of this crime story, but wandering around trying to think of ideas really wasn't doing me any good.

Mayor Gavin Newsom talks to reporters about, among other things, his Market Street plan

I'm such a lucky guy, though. One weekend I come across Barack Obama's motorcade and on another I'm stumbling upon this fella on Market Street talking about this completely preposterous (and decades-old) plan to close Market Street to all traffic, including eventually the 30 or 40-something MUNI lines that use it. The way he described this plan (including tables, chairs and benches in what was once the street) made it sound like this was one of those classic 2 a.m. rays of brilliance. I started to wonder if thoughtcrime was something I could hinge my next story on.

This detour, of course, made me late to meet my Aunt and Uncle but eventually I got there. It was okay that I was late because they went from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Ferry Building by way of Noe Valley and arrived 15 minutes after me. Over dinner, we talked about this reporting class I'm in, the story about Tonga and me trying to find street crime in Russian Hill.

The median home price in this section of Russian Hill is roughly $1.5 million.

I told my Aunt and Uncle about the mayor and how I took a bunch of pictures. My Uncle thought the Market Street plan sounded a little silly too. He told me about this (also decades-old) plan to close a huge section of my home town's main drag and "reunite the square," making a really nice promenade for pedestrians but I guess they can't get that passed because the city's transit operators won't have it–I think that city has something like 14 bus lines.

It was suggested that I just strong-arm someone then write about it, but for some reason that idea still isn't sitting right with me. What did more sensibly come up though were those "no valuables inside" signs everyone has on their cars in the neighborhood, especially in Russian Hill. It seems that such a well-to-do neighborhood would have equally well-to-do cars with all sorts of valuables inside to steal so it's a hot spot for vehicle break-ins, which is definitely a starting point.

After dinner, we parked and hiked back to their hotel, yadda-yadda-yadda, I taught them how to hail a cab, and they were off to the show.

So the evening was productive and ended up being a lot of fun. I put the profile to bed, thought for a few minutes about the crime story, pictured a Market Street that looked something like Van Gogh's "Café At Night" only with more tables and protesters, had a nice dinner that I wasn't expecting and even got a new pair of jeans and another coffee.

Good times.

China Basin's Secret Treasure

What I really found on my early-morning visit: some of the sights and scenes in the harbor don't make for a pretty story. Here's the nice part of my original write-up:

"An early-morning visit reveals the peculiar charm of the harbor’s hodgepodge of houseboats, which seem exempt from the building codes most people suffer. Twinkling lights on the surrounding waters lend an unreal sense of isolation to the place, and the gently rocking planks underfoot add to the feeling of fantasy. Alone in the crowd of rigid earthbound freeway overpasses and apartment buildings, the little harbor dwellings that drift with each wave give off a strange sense of permanence that the earthbound structures lack.


Little homey touches lend a sense of the past to the dock. Potted geraniums and barbecue pits are among the many signs of the channel’s lively population. Wind chimes and other ornaments sway and tinkle, catching the light and wind that change with each day. It’s no wonder the population of Mission Bay is on the rise. Channel resident Corinne Woods says most of the area’s 350 children are under the age of five; that’s why a neighborhood group (missionbayfamilies.org) is working on building a playground.

Residents of the houseboat community love their home in spite of the sewage-pumping station that still exists at the head of the channel. They formed the Mission Creek Harbor Association in 1974 in response to a Port official’s illegitimate attempt to evict the residents from their berths. With the help of the local media the residents preserved Mission Creek Harbor’s enduring independent spirit—the hidden jewel of China Basin."



And here's a retrospective thought or two:

Perhaps the spirit of independence thrives on the rich methane and sulphur fumes that drift and mingle on the surface of the water. The odd odor adds to the weird atmosphere of a place where even the laws of nature don't seem to apply... Old paddleboats and an occasional float from a marine parade rest in unoccupied berths.

A strange relationship rarely seen in nature grows between a carnival float and old tugboat

What's more, I found you have to be careful where you lock up your bike around the harbor. I got back to my bike "Mission Bay Visitor Center" just in time to save it from a private security guard who proceeded to give me the third degree, asking for my name and ID and telling me "This is private property," and other BS... It seems there's a lot of private security in China Basin since the police don't go there much. I was still glad I'd left the bike outside the locked dock area, though. Once you go past the gates and down the ramps to the docks, you're "not in Kansas anymore." City and district maps draw their borders at the edge of the waterline and it could be that maritime law applies once you're off dry land.

Treasure Island Meeting

Only a few concerned citizens attended the Sep 30 Police Commmision meeting on Treasure Island, where police commissioners and officers outnumbered the public in attendance. Captain Daniel McDonagh, Commanding Officer of the Southern station, presented his Chief's Report and the public was allowed to address the commission.

One of those citizens was Bayview resident Ruby Brown, whose grandson Jarvis L. Baker's 2000 murder still remains unsolved.

Another person remarked on the need for consensus regarding the confusing zoning of the police districts.
The department acknowledges the need for a better distribution of patrols in its District Boundaries Assessment found on the SFPD website. The shortcomings of the current districting system are clearly evident in the neglected China Basin area. Although China Basin is part of Supervisorial District 6, it is policed by District 10-area’s overworked Bayview Station police force. China Basin is one of the few parts of District 6 excluded from Southern Station’s patrol area.

China Basin resident Corinne Woods later confirmed the scarcity of SFPD patrols there, and said that residents’ safety sometimes depends on private security forces such as the guards at UC’s medical center.

As of today neither the minutes from the meeting nor the Chief’s Report were available online.

Everyone thinks murals are good

There was this dude painting a mural. I started asking him some questions and told him I was an SF State student. He said that some other SF State students had interviewed him and recorded him painting the other day. I wonder what their story was about. Either way I was trying to see if I could get some community members to give me their thoughts about the mural. Everyone that walked by would stop and examine the artist at work, tell him he's doing a good job, and keep walking. I stopped a MUNI driver walking by, asked him if he was into it, and he said, "It looks good," and it was awkward. I didn't really know what else to ask the guy. So after he left, I thought that the rest of the responses I would most likely get would be "It looks good," and "Yeah I think it's good for the community." It didn't seem likely that anybody would answer, "I think this mural sucks." So I stopped trying to get varying points of view about it.

There is one person (or maybe a few) though that paints over parts of the mural with white paint. This is the third time the muralist, Jason, has had to repaint the same section on the corner of Santa Rosa Avenue and Mission Street. The person hits the same place over and over and only paints over the Latino family in the mural.

I continued to interview the muralist and we heard this small bang like a car rear-ended someone. It was just the sound of a traffic cop's door slamming. A car behind him was trying to squeeze around. The traffic cop said, "Now watch this guy cut me off." So we watched.

Hunting down the Tamale Lady

(Photo: Chronicle/Liz Hafalia)

I first introduced myself to Virginia Ramos, a.k.a. the Tamale Lady, back in August when we were assigned Streetlist1. I knew then that she was the person I wanted to do my profile on.

Naturally, I hunted her down at Zeitgeist. It was warm Friday evening and the bike racks were full. I had to wait in a line just to get in. Once inside I spotted Virginia standing in the crowd.

Virginia was extremely nice and happy to divulge her telephone numbers and address; no email, however, as she does not have a computer.

I let her know my story was not due until later in the semester and that I would be in touch.

When it came time to interview Virginia, I had a hard time contacting her on the phone. My cell phone is restricted for some reason (this took months of non-returned phone calls for me to figure out) and I had a feeling this was why Virginia was not returning my calls.

I left several messages on both her home and cell numbers, but to no avail. I decided to change my subject last minute .

The day after our draft was due, Virginia called me back. She left a message saying she had been extremely busy, but that she would like to help me. When I called back, I left another message on her home answering machine. As I was about to hang up, I heard Virginia say, "Hello?"

She told me she does not answer restricted numbers, something about people relentlessly bugging her, so she waited until she heard my message before picking up. We made plans to meet later in the week at Zeitgeist, when it was convenient for me, as she did not want me to rearrange my work schedule for her.

Speaking with Virginia in person reminds me of my grandmother. She is welcoming and honest. She answered ever question I asked without the slightest hesitation. She also made me feel comfortable, referring to me as "baby."

It is not hard to see why everyone loves her. Not only are her tamales "fabulous", as Zeitgeist security Jerry Bricker put it, but she is extremely caring, passionate and funny.

The general attitude of most Zeitgeist employees is rude, loud and pushy. In a strange way, Virginia is reminiscent of a den mother, calm and sweet to soften the harsh edges.

Every Ordinary Person Has an Extra Ordinary Story to Tell

My subject for my profile story is Seiko Fujimoto who works in a store that sells traditional Japanese products. I will not lie if I found her almost accidentally. You probably heard her story in class last time and thought how fascinating her story was. And how lucky I was to be able to find a great subject. But really… the truth behind that is I never thought she had that story in her.

Everything about Fujimoto was ordinary except of her blue hair, of course. She was the first person that I talked to in Japantown when the semester started. She was outspoken although from the outside, she may not look like that.

I spent three full days following her literally everywhere. I went to a merchant meeting with her. I hang out at her store after her lunch until it was time for her to go home. She was a really interesting person, I will say. I admit I am guilty for forgetting my role as a student journalist. I was too absorbed in her story sometimes that I forgot to write down her story. A good thing, I brought my flip camera with me so I can record her story.

I am learning from my interviews with her. I learned about Japanese culture (I even had to go to a kabuki performance so I can understand her more). I learned to never think of someone as ordinary. I learned that every person has an interesting story within him/her. I enjoyed this learning process except of one thing: I learned to ask questions I dislike.

I knew it was hurt for her to remember the deaths and the war but what kind of story can I write if I did not know the whole story? I did not think I can do her story justice if I only understand her and her story partially. I had to constantly remind myself: “Ask her, ask her. You’re here to write her story.” It was really hard for me to ask those difficult questions like: “What do you think about Japan after the war?” or “Do you want to go back to Japan despite of all that painful memories?” I was afraid at one point she would break into tears but that never happened because she's a strong woman. I knew it's silly but the one who felt like crying was me. It was hard for me to stay objective too when she was so opened and kind to me.

All in all, I think she’s a unique lady. Fujimoto is a lady with attitudes. It is hard not to have sympathy for her at all because she is so brave, wise and strong. She is a person you can admire but not to hate.

D.I.Y. (dirtbag it yourself)

It has been a little while since I have wet my whistle at some of the bars in Noe Valley. I have been busy working on a story out in hunters point that has introduced me to some pretty...., hmm whats the right word.... something like the opposite of moms with strollers.
The article I am working on is about a competition where contestants have 30 days to build a custom motorcycle for less than $1000. It's called the DirtBag Challenge. I pitched the story to a local motorcycle magazine, and I am working Spencer Morris, a fellow SFSU journalism student, to profile some of the teams/builders in the competition. We thought that that would be a much better idea than just covering the event, plus somehow I got the "profile on a person" idea stuck in my head. Spencer and I did most of the research together and I shot portraits of each person we profiled. I have included one I liked but didn't use of Turk. This was a pretty rad project! The guys I met had a very fresh and inspirational take on life that I feel like I haven't been exposed to much lately. Well actually it was more like a 3 sheets to the wind attitude, but it really worked well, Especially for Turk. Now that guy was a character, as you can see from the photo. Turk never gave me a last name, but he said he got the nick name Turk because he "is the guy who can get you what you need, no matter what or how." Then there is Paul, or Poll which is his nickname because its how his name sounds when pronounced with his british accent. Poll is one of the founding guys for the dirtbag challenge and is seen below with the gasoline. Poll is a loud, crass, son-of-a-bitch, and I enjoyed every second of it. He is extermely charasmatic and though he started the dirtbag challenge with friends, it is pretty much his competition now, and he has done a great job of keeping it going for seven years now.

here is a link to the website, and look for the article and my photos in the upcoming Urban Moto and Xpress magazines. http://dirtbagchallenge.com/rules.htm

click on the photos to see them bigger

the map is of Poll's shop, Turk's is across the street.


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