Mission Mission

See if you can spot Sexy P.

Dave Chappelle caught me slyly trying to take a picture of him while we were each eating dinner at Pakwan.  He came over to the table and asked to see it.  Unimpressed by my photographic aptitude, he then asked me to delete it.

As I complied with his request and stammered an apology, a single grain of rice flew from my mouth and landed on the shoulder of his black sweater.  I wasn’t sure if he saw it or not, but I couldn’t take the risk, so I reached up and attempted to brush it off.  Naturally, that darn stubborn kernel wasn’t going anywhere.

Chappelle noticed and said, “I don’t even mind that you just spit a piece of rice on me.  Happens all the time.”  He pointed out that I didn’t really need to delete the photos since he was in a public space after all, but it was cool I did and that I should come outside for a real picture after he finished his cigarette.

When I walked out, I didn’t see him anywhere and figured I’d been duped by a master.  But then Mr. Chappelle emerged from a shiny black Escalade and said, “I wasn’t gonna flake on you.”  As my buddy snapped a photo of us, the beleaguered superstar muttered, “People are terrible.  There, I said it.”

Sorry for ruining your dinner Dave!  We all love you here in the Mission!  Please come back soon!

[Chappelle on 16th by jacobchills]

This is my fully edited account of the early morning efforts of the March 19 San Francisco Day of Direct Action. In it, you’ll find decked-out riot police, a brass band, more twirlers, demonstrating in front inflatable water slide of Chevron, a cable car, more Frank Chu, the Transamerica Pyramid, dancing in the streets, yelling in the streets, posters, signage, bloody hands, people in pink, motorcycles on sidewalks, blockaded intersections, and more — all set to the tune of “Big Ideas” by LCD Soundsystem.

Link to yesterday’s coverage.

Link to response at Curbed SF in which they’re debating the hipster question.

Link to Bay Area Direct Action.

Beauty Bar, San Francisco originally uploaded by charlotte.wright

I’ve noticed the droves of young females who spend their nights at Beauty Bar. It’s mainly young undergrads who’ve recently migrated from Southern California to a three-bed share in the Tenderloin. Their version of the Mission is meeting friends at Puerto Allegre for uninteresting margaritas and enchiladas, then shaking their shoulders with some date-rape shirt to some sub-par DJ at Beauty Bar. A few months go by, and they’re standing in the cocaine line at Delirium wondering if the douchebag in the corner with the purple kerchief sitting pretty on his scruffy, smelly neck is checking out her American Apparel sangria-colored tights. Do these tourists make the Mission, or does the Mission make the tourist?

It’s been five years since the city knocked down the Fell Street Off-Ramp. The Octavia corridor is all vibrant and everything, and Market Street is prettier or whatever. But I still recall when, as a teenager in Sacramento, the only thing to do on the weekend was head to SF for 1.) an Amoeba run, and, often 2.) show at Bottom of the Hill. This translated to a fair amount of time on the Fell Street Off-Ramp. As soon as it broke from the freeway proper, it began snaking past buildings, tearing around corners, flying high over Market, thru the treetops, within *inches* of the First Baptist Church’s big dome. And then it set you down gently, kitty corner from Il Borgo. It made a Volvo station wagon feel like the Batwing.

Anyway, it was on one such trip that we really discovered the Mission for the first time. After Amoeba, we cruised up Stanyan to 17th Street, came down that great big hill into the Castro, and cruised through the Mission en route to a Fucking Champs show I think. Looking out the window up and down Dolores and then Valencia and then Mission was like finding a hidden prehistoric valley. We found an apartment here as soon as we could.

Here’s our beloved sedan’s last ride. The trip starts in the Mission, and the video features music by local artist and Mission District proponent Jonathan Richman. For more Jonathan, peep this imeem post for a gem of a Hedwig cover.