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​“The horrible thing,” Rich said, after finishing Charlotte’s Web , “is that I’m never going to be able to kill a spider again.” When I’d learned Rich had somehow managed to get through childhood without meeting the talking spider who saved an innocent pig, I gave him my copy, pulling it out of the huge…

​You have to love a city that commemorates the removal of a hated eyesore with poetic words celebrating our collective joy. Walking out of the San Francisco Ferry Building this week, I discovered a sidewalk plaque commemorating the destruction — begun by the 1989 earthquake, finished by the mayor — of the hideous 1958 Embarcadero…

​​Did you do anything loony during the pandemic lockdown? Of course you did, but don’t worry, I’m not asking you to reveal details. (Unless you really want to — in which case, I’m all ears.) Europeans under strict lockdown, allowed outside only to fetch groceries and walk pets, took to strolling around with their cats,…

​Remember the $150,000 banana duct-taped to the wall ? Roguish Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan caused a sensation showing it at a swanky Miami art exhibition in 2019. Performance artist David Datuna caused another sensation by pulling the banana off the wall and eating it . Everyone else had an uproarious time coming up with memes…

I never learn. Really, I ought to have my head examined. “We should go out to Angel Island,” Rich has been saying all summer. “Take a picnic.” I was tempted. I’d never been there before, and Rich had fond memories of a visit 50 years earlier; cue the montage of soaring trees and spectacular views of…

Running across this wonderful meme yesterday, I paused to think about the women in my family. My great-grandmother Mary Langley crossed the continent by covered wagon, arriving on the West Coast around 1889. Her daughter Ramona would spend her youth as a silent film star and her later years as my outrageous grandmother. My mom…

The day is an open road stretching out before you. Roll down the windows, Step into your life, as if it were a fast car. —From Barbara Crooker’s Promise Along with strong black coffee, a bracing poem is one of my favorite ways to start the day. By the time I reach the breakfast table,…

I don’t know if you’ve firmed up your plans for entering the afterlife, but until recently I favored the viewpoint popularized by that old reprobate Woody Allen: “I’m not afraid of death, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” Now I’ve learned this is an old-fashioned attitude that has failed to keep…

​“One day if I do go to heaven,” wrote columnist Herb Caen, “I’ll look around and say, ‘It ain’t bad, but it ain’t San Francisco.’” I don’t know if he’d be pleased or outraged by the headline, “ Much-Maligned San Francisco Ranked 7th Best City in the World . ”  Clearly Mr. Caen would vote…

​So Rich and I are racing back to the San Francisco Ferry Building in hopes of catching the early boat home when we are stopped by an old, shaggy curmudgeon who wants to pick a fight with our Waymo driverless taxi. First he stands in its path, glaring furiously at the empty driver’s seat. Strict…