Author: Karen McCann

​When I first heard about the Short Story Vending Machine I was horrified. “Is this AI? Are robots plagiarizing published works by legitimate authors to compose cookie-cutter mini-novels while you wait? What fresh hell is this?” But no; I was charmed to be proven completely wrong. It turns out these stories are composed by actual…

“The Tenderloin isn’t always easy on the eyes,” says the museum poster, in a massive understatement. “But what the neighborhood is missing in polish, it makes up for in grit and soul.” Thrill-seekers that we are, Rich and I decided to take a walk on the wild side this week and visit San Francisco’s most…

Waymo’s driverless taxis move through traffic like my high school driver’s ed teacher: maintaining the exact speed limit, meticulously obeying all laws, showing an excess of caution and courtesy at all times. Unlike some human cabbies I’ve known, my invisible robot drivers are never drunk, stoned, lecherous, lost, or seething with road rage. They never…

​“It was crazytown here,” recalls one San Francisco resident. I know what you’re thinking: isn’t that always true of San Francisco? Yes, of course it is. But things got much nuttier than usual during the jittery aftermath of the 1989 earthquake, when hundreds of 800-pound sea lions began swarming the city’s docks, sending boat owners,…

​Remember how good it felt when the Berlin Wall came down, the Iron Curtain lifted, and the Cold War melted away? For younger readers, 1991 marked the official, peaceful collapse of the Soviet Union, which meant we could finally go to bed at night without worrying about nuclear war breaking out before breakfast. It was…

As part of her ongoing (and largely futile) efforts to civilize her six children, my mother would occasionally round us up and herd us into San Francisco’s de Young Museum to appreciate Art. The museum opened in 1895 to show the snobs back East that we Westerners had culture. Yes, we did, dammit! And we…

“I saw that my life was a vast glowing empty page and I could do anything I wanted.” ― Jack Kerouac ​Much of the blame — or credit — goes to WWII, an event that obviously already has a lot to answer for. During the war years, millions of Americans — soldiers, sailors, and shipbuilders, including…

Shocking news! I got attacked on the streets of San Francisco. The assailant was a big, badass pigeon with a menacing attitude and scarred feet attesting to a lifetime of street brawls. It all happened so fast. Rich and I had taken a long walk up Market Street, looking for signs of a dystopian hellscape,…

It’s true! The legendary Dim Sum Nazi is still around and hasn’t lost one bit of her edge. I saw her Saturday, presiding over her pots, steely-eyed as ever, prepared to quell inquisitive customers with a glare. In San Francisco’s Delicious Dim Sum , everyone knows you don’t ask Ivy Z. frivolous questions about the living…

Having read the headlines, I half-expected to step off the ferry to find San Francisco a smoking ruin full of rampaging brigands and street urchins barbecuing rats over flaming trash barrels. Instead, on the first of this year’s Out to Lunch expeditions in San Francisco, the most shocking thing I saw were the prices. I…