Day 2
Morning was rainy and despairingly raw. The wind blew with sadistic force, as if to say “see, no sightseeing for youuuu”. As proper tourists vacationing in a different time zone, we woke up to our internal alarms, which is about 6:30am pst (8:30am cst). Since it was raining we decided to have a lavish breakfast in a nearby American Diner, called Lori’s Diner.
Morning was rainy and despairingly raw. The wind blew with sadistic force, as if to say “see, no sightseeing for youuuu”. As proper tourists vacationing in a different time zone, we woke up to our internal alarms, which is about 6:30am pst (8:30am cst). Since it was raining we decided to have a lavish breakfast in a nearby American Diner, called Lori’s Diner.
Chowhound did not offer any favorable reviews of this place, but we decided to go anyway, as if reading about disappointment of others wasn’t good enough for us. Sure enough: everything about this place, including sad and creepy Charlie Chaplin impersonator at the door was profoundly disappointing. Tacky ambiance inside (50’s movie stars and cheesy pinball machines), the menu (can you say: fat party?) and the quality of coffee. Once in every few years I decide to once again check out what authentic American diner experience is all about and most of all, remind myself why I hate it so much. Lori’s diner did not fail to fulfill this expectation: yes, I hate American diners. They are horrible and depressing places, sort of like the leprosy shelter for foods that no one wants anymore. Oh, those sad places where the food that is served is not even food: it’s feed, tasteless, and full of stuff that no one should be eating anyway. ( I am making exception here for the great southern Waffle House, however, mainly because I still hold dear memories of our very first drive from Columbus to New Orleans)
Plus any menu offering is guaranteed to leave you in lethargic coma for a while because everything is so full of fat and carbs. Yuk, yuk, yuk.
After breakfast Rita and I headed to SFMOMA: excellent choice it turned out. I was entranced by Joseph Cornell exhibit that is called Navigating the Imagination: check out for yourself here. Each box he has created is a world of wonderment.
Plus any menu offering is guaranteed to leave you in lethargic coma for a while because everything is so full of fat and carbs. Yuk, yuk, yuk.
After breakfast Rita and I headed to SFMOMA: excellent choice it turned out. I was entranced by Joseph Cornell exhibit that is called Navigating the Imagination: check out for yourself here. Each box he has created is a world of wonderment.
The whole experience reminded me of starting into the night sky and thinking that each star represents its own galaxy. Rita loved Take Your Time by Olafur Eliasson: quite interactive and pop-culture-ish (in a good way). My favorite: the multicolored bridge-like structure. As you walk through you see all the beautiful colors (achieved via kaleidoscope type mural). When you turn and look back: all of the tiny pieces of glass are black and faceless. No colors, no joy. That’s how George Bush will be feeling after his presidency is over: all he left behind was a black hole of disappointment and human suffering.
It continued raining until around 4pm and then finally sun peeked through the clouds, but it was too late for sightseeing anyway. Rita insisted on going to the Floating Boat Sushi in Chinatown. I did not know anything about this place, and thought it was silly to eat Sushi in Chinatown anyway, so I abstained from eating and sat there pursing my lips in disapproval. I can be difficult if I want to prove the point and this was one of those times. The whole time, however, I sat there and thought that I wish I could be 16 again and get excited about floating boat sushi. I am just old, and can’t have fun anymore.
The day ended up on somewhat happier note when we found a Zagat-rated Thai place right around Union Square called King of Thai Noodle House. We had the very excellent Roasted Duck and Pad See Ew. We consumed everything back in our room, accompanied by an inexpensive Californian Cab.
Tomorrow we’re off to the Wine country. Our choice of destination: Dry Creek Valley (we’ve been to Napa, Sonoma and Russian Valley already). Dry Creek is known for Zins and Pinot Noirs. I can’t wait!
It continued raining until around 4pm and then finally sun peeked through the clouds, but it was too late for sightseeing anyway. Rita insisted on going to the Floating Boat Sushi in Chinatown. I did not know anything about this place, and thought it was silly to eat Sushi in Chinatown anyway, so I abstained from eating and sat there pursing my lips in disapproval. I can be difficult if I want to prove the point and this was one of those times. The whole time, however, I sat there and thought that I wish I could be 16 again and get excited about floating boat sushi. I am just old, and can’t have fun anymore.
The day ended up on somewhat happier note when we found a Zagat-rated Thai place right around Union Square called King of Thai Noodle House. We had the very excellent Roasted Duck and Pad See Ew. We consumed everything back in our room, accompanied by an inexpensive Californian Cab.
Tomorrow we’re off to the Wine country. Our choice of destination: Dry Creek Valley (we’ve been to Napa, Sonoma and Russian Valley already). Dry Creek is known for Zins and Pinot Noirs. I can’t wait!
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