If this City hasn’t been dubbed the ‘City of Views’ by now, it should be. And I can take the credit.

They’re everywhere – hard to avoid, really. Even on my fairly-flat MUNI ride in and out of the Sunset, they pop up – little windows into perspective – allowing you, the viewer to look inside yourself a little more by absorbing the City scape around you.

And the Sutro Tower is one of our SF’s best. The radio tower ejects out of Twin Peaks, giving the residents a friendly iconic touchstone, often orientating yourself to the rest of the landscape. While living in the Tenderloin, I grew used to the view west, seeing its silhouette at sunset often. Now it it’s due east and I often see its top half engulfed in the Sunset’s romantic fog.

I have yet to actually touch the tower, one of my many to-dos to check off someday, but I have made my way up to Twin Peaks a few times. I recently rented a car and shuttled a best friend up there. Luckily the day was clear and the City sprawled out of the car’s windows just as I’d hoped.

Some of Many Neighborhood Hidden Stairs

When driving up there you can’t park – likely a good thing, since it’d just end up clogged with cars but it does mean you have to be a bit more savvy at planning your view stops.

If walking – there are a few bus routes that get you close enough (here’s Yelp‘s help for that) and you get to snake through the Upper Market/Noe neighborhood on the way down.

Overall, not a bad way to spend an afternoon.

And as a bonus, here are some lovely time-lapse videos celebrating the tower’s iconic beauty. Enjoy!

Awaiting Return in the Corner

Calling you an air mattress simply doesn’t do you justice. You are, and have been, the Life Raft on my ocean of despair.

You came into my life unwanted but required. She left on Saturday morning. The Friday night prior, her and I tried to inflate the one we inherited by accident from a friend of a friend. Turns out hosting 30+ visitors on that hand-me-down left it broken. The air just wouldn’t stick. I woke up that Saturday knowing the love of my life was removing my heart, soul and sleeping vessel. I’d start by trying to fill in the latter. Luckily my sister had you tucked into her storage locker. I strapped you to my back, and waddled down the block back to the Depression Station or later dubbed, The Crime Scene. The location in which my partner of 12 years told me she was ending our life together, was no longer “home.” “The apartment,” also sounded too normal. I cope by re-naming things apparently.

Once there – you filled my empty-bed hole beautifully. Your thick, solid, cord plugged into the wall and with a flip of a switch, you quickly came to life. Over the next four weeks, I’d come to know your buttons well. I’d deflate you entirely, move you across town, and periodically flip your switch just for an extra oomph.

But our relationship together, now, like many other things, has come to its end. I bought a bed from a very curious Asian man at the Bedroom Outlet. He thinks I’m an artist and peppered me with questions about my single status. I wanted to punch him like I’ve wanted to punch half of the human race lately. Questions aside, he gave me a deal on a mattress-boxed-spring set, including free delivery (!). Now it rests where you once were. Please, Life Raft, be assured your presence will be missed and remembered fondly. We were, like many other things, good while we had each other.