Field Trip Week: San Francisco Treat, Part 1

I was going to title this post "Homotown USA," but then I realized that I've seen more homosexuals on a Saturday afternoon at the East Palo Alto IKEA than my personal assistant Geoffrey and I did in San Francisco on Friday. But, that's mainly the fault of our itinerary: we went nowhere near the Castro, staying mainly in the FiDi, SoMa, and NoBe (wow, that's annoying).

Even without homos, it was still a perfect day in San Francisco. Well, except for the weather, which was cold, windy and drizzly. I thought we were going to be on the sunny side of the city (at least in the afternoon), but the fog never lifted. It was actually pretty miserable. I had planned for cool weather, but hadn't realized that I would need a hat and gloves. Oh well.

The drive from San Francisco from Santa Cruz was even pleasurable, thanks to I-280, sometimes called "the most beautiful freeway in the world." It is a lovely freeway, winding beneath the slopes of the Santa Cruz mountains, avoiding the urban/suburban sprawl just a few miles to the East, and flirting with the San Andreas Fault. However, as a connaisseur of interstates, I would suggest several other stretches that are more scenic:

• I-70 between Denver and Vail: a spectacular ascent into the Rockies.
  
• I-80 between SLC and Wendover: the Wasatch range, the Great Salt Lake, and the Bonneville Salt Flats.
  
• I-64/77 between Charleston and Beckley, West Virginia: a high-speed curvefest along a winding creekbed
  

But I digress...

We started our San Francisco adventure with a retro lunch at swinging supper club Bix. It's located in this hard-to-find alley in an upscale furniture/antiques neighborhood near the Transamerica Pyramid. I felt like I was in a speakeasy, but with much better alcohol (did you know that Prohibition booze was yucky? It's true.) My lunch:

• the Bix Strawberry Rickey (Skyy 90, strawberry puree, sweet & sour, and soda): so fresh and crisp! I could have had three.
  
• roasted tomato soup with a basil-ricotta crouton: competent and hearty-perfect for fighting the chill weather.
  
• shallot crusted albacore tuna with butter beans, gypsy peppers, and lemon-smoked paprika sauce: divine! The sauce just made everything melt in your mouth.
  
• chocolate brioche bread pudding: topped with a fist-size dollop of thick-whipped cream, this was rich, hot, and smooth. Another great course for a cold and dreary day.
  

The service and atmosphere were almost pitch-perfect (right down to the white-coated waiters), with one troubling exception: the restaurant's location in the FiDi (Financial District) means that, at lunch, it's filled with businesspeople and lawyers. Yuck. The high-powered commercial real estate go-getter at the next table kept talking about how she was going to make a "shitload of money." I hadn't realized how well I've managed to structure my life to avoid these kind of people on a regular basis.

After lunch, we made a pilgrimage to the greatest bookstore on the planet: City Lights. I love this place! It was founded by beat poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti! They published Allen Ginsburg's Howl (someday, ask Uncle Fosco to tell you the story of how he played a reading of Howl on the radio and got into serious obscenity toruble...). And how can you not love their new banners? (pic below)I kinda bought a bunch of books, including a collection of essays on Howl, selections from Paul Valery, and the book that started it all: Pictures of the Gone World.

The interstate's choked with nomadic hordes

This summer marks the fiftieth anniversary of the U.S. Interstate System and I have a confession to make: I love interstates.

I recognize that there are many good reasons why the interstates are problematic, but I don't care--I still love them. To tell the complete truth, I am a total interstate geek. I am never happier in a car than when I am on the interstate. I collect interstate trivia. I read atlases and memorize the grid. I have driven through 41 US States-all on interstates. I consider the Interstate System to be the most awe-inspiring construction project in the history of civilization.

Yeah, I'm kinda weird about interstates.

Which is why I love this article in the San Jose Mercury News, which provides glimpses of the social history of California's interstates. And yes, I feel a kinship with Officer Izarras:

On a recent morning in Sacramento, the scene reflected in Felix Izarraras' sunglasses is a video clip of flannel-gray pavement and shiny guardrails. He's a California Highway Patrol officer and also an astute observer of the interstate network -"the most beautiful highway system in the world.''

"The interstates,'' he says, "represent America to me.''

All of which has led me to want to collect some thoughts about interstates:

1. My Interstate Achievements. There are two achivements that I am especially proud of:

• Over the course of my lifetime, I have driven the entire length of I-80, from San Francisco to New York City. I-80, to me, is the East-West backbone of the country--as John McPhee has pointed out, it is an ancient migration route for both humans and animals. It also reveals a fascinating geological cross-section of the country.
  
• I have driven almost all of I-95, from Daytona Beach to Portland (ME). All I am missing is the strip from Miami to Daytona and the section from Portland to Houlton, ME. I adore 95--it connects all of the power cities on the East Coast: Boston, New York, Baltimore, Washington, Miami. Even when I'm stuck in South Carolina on I-95, I can still feel the metropolitan excitement.

2. Interstate Phenomena. Without the interstate, we wouldn't have the totally-pointless billboard-driven tourist attractions/rest stops that are essential for hipsters to enjoy ironically.

• South of the Border, the racist theme park. In my travels along I-95, I think I've seen almost all of the billboards for this horrible, horrible place. One time I stopped and bought a shot glass--the logo came off in the dishwasher.
  
  Extra fun fact: in his 2001 novel Argall, William T. Vollmann refers to "South of the Border," calling it "Planet Mexico."
  
  
• Wall Drug
  
• Cafe Risque. A favorite activity when driving south to Florida: spot the first Cafe Risque billboard. Winner gets a lapdance.
  
• Little America
  
• The Great Platte River Road Archway National Monument
  
• or even, for that matter, that Mormony Temple Thingie

3. Why I Feel Safer on the Interstate. I have a friend from Sweden who refuses to drive on American insterstates. He finds the homogeneity offensive and prefers to take routes by which he can sample the "local color." This is all well and good, assuming that one has time for the local color.

But, sometimes the best part of the interstate is the homogeneity. It turns out that large portions of the country are filled with people who are actively unfriendly to people like me and I don't really want to give these unfriendly people access to me. Or, to put it simply, I don't want to get beat up. Especially in unfriendly territory, the interstate is the safest place for a number of reasons:

• State Police are less likely that local police (or sheriffs, yikes!) to be dangerously prejudiced.
  
• There are usually lots of other motorists nearby.
  
• Food and gasoline are usually readily available, without the possibility of getting lost.
  
• The locals that you interact with (at gas stations or fast food places) are more likely to be used to interacting with out-of-towners.
  
• You can drive really fast.

Do you really think I would have driven through rural Mississippi or Nevada without the interstate?

4. I-99 is evil and must be stopped. The numbering system is one of the things that I most admire about the interstates--it's so elegantly logical. But, then there is the abomination known as I-99. According to the system, such a road must be located to the east of I-95, and yet it is not. It's in Central Pennsylvania. This is unacceptable.

I know the explanation, but it still rankles.

5. The Best Song for Self-Conscious Driving on the Interstate. While there are many excellent songs for interstate driving, I'm going to recommend Bruce Springsteen's "Open All Night." Here's a representative verse:

Early north Jersey industrial skyline I'm a all-set cobra jet creepin' through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a payphone this turnpike sure is spooky at night when you're all alone
Gotta hit the gas, baby. I'm running late, this New Jersey in the mornin' like a lunar landscape

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

6. The Problems with Interstates in Indiana. Regular readers know that I have little but contempt for the state of Indiana. Here are two good reasons why:

• I was born and raised in Rust Belt, Michigan, a town close to the Indiana border. Ever since I can remember, people have been complaining about the unconscionably long commute between South Bend and Indianapolis. The distance between these two cities (the largest and fourth largest in the state) is 138 miles, yet the drive usually takes in excess of 3 hours on the non-limited-access US 31:

  Ask nearly anyone around Indiana about the drive on U.S. 31. Without hesitation, most will recount how they dread driving between Indianapolis and South Bend. They generally are puzzled that such a busy highway includes unexpected obstacles such as railroad crossings without overpasses, side roads with stop sign access and most of all, those endless stop lights!

  The US 31 Coalition (source of the above quote) wants to do something about this, but, due to an incredibly corrupt and petrified political establishment (and, perhaps, due to the fact that South Bend is one of the few borderline Democratic areas in a very red state), there has been little progress in the last 25 years. Unbelievable.
  
  
• The Indiana portion of Interstate 80/90 aka the Indiana Toll Road has been sold to a private firm. Well, actually, it has been "leased"--but for 75 years (which makes the sold/leased distinction entirely irrelevant for those of us who plan to die sometime before then). This idea was the brainchild of Governor Mitzi Daniels (who is clearly that kid that everyone hated in high school--not because he was smart, but because he was super creepy). The private firm gets to collect (and raise!) tolls on the road for the next 75 years, and the State of Indiana gets 2.8 billion dollars up front.
  
  Now I'm no expert on public works financing, but does this seem like a ripoff to you? Was this really the only way for the Tiny Governor to raise 2.8 billion dollars? Don't states sell municipal bonds anymore?
  

7. Art and the Interstates.Are the interstates responsible for any really great art?

On the one hand, Lolita would be an entirely different (and definitely inferior) novel in the era of the interstate.

On the other hand, it would be hard to imagine the oeuvre of Bruce Springsteen without the influence of the interstate highway. In fact, as NPR has pointed out, rock and roll owes a great deal to the interstate.

But, on the one hand, the interstate must be held responsible for Sammy Hagar's "I Can't Drive 55."

Some other interstate-inspired artistic creations:

• Death Cab for Cutie, "405"
  
• Beverly Cleary's Dear Mr. Henshaw
  
• John Mayer, "Why Georgia"
  
• several novels by Bret Easton Ellis

Any other thoughts, commenters?

8. The Future of the Interstate. What will interstates be like in the future? Well, for one thing, they'll be run by robots or something.

And when can you expect a new interstate to open near you? Find out here.