PacBell
for dummies. In case you haven’t tried
it out yet, there’s a section that runs all the way around the top
of the stadium known as “View Reserved” seating. Tickets cost
$16. The view is spectacular, of the bay and its environs. But stay
away from the left field side, cuz ya can’t see left field from
there. Not an inch. Nor can you watch instant replays of what you
missed. The scoreboard too is outa sight. You’d think they’d
give a discount for plays not seen. If you want a good view of the
field, check out the bleachers. Tickets, $10.
Our recent hot spell suggested a moneymaking
gimmick Pete Magowan has overlooked. Back in rural Indiana in the
1920s, when temperatures soared in the summer, folks there often
found church-going a little too suggestive of The Other Place.
Enterprising merchants donated flat round hand-held fans decorated
with ads for their establishment. And so it was that dozens of Dutch
Reformed worshipers stirred the preacher’s hot air with fans
inviting people to remember the Culp Funeral Home. Just think, the
Giants could produce a whole collectable set, like baseball cards,
each bearing a player’s picture and stats.
Mid-Market weekly report. The
city’s uphill battle to clean up the mid-Market area continues.
Late Monday afternoon police arrested four members of Food Not Bombs
for permitlessly serving free vegetarian meals to prospective
diners. The Independent Media Center (www.indybay.org) notes, “The
effect of these activities taken up by the city has been devastating
to residents in the South of Market and Tenderloin areas. Homeless
people used the plaza as a daytime gathering spot to meet up with
outreach workers, service providers, and other support workers.
Outreach workers have since lost contact with many of their clients,
rendering them unable to provide needed medical treatment and other
services. The plaza was also a haven for many seniors and other
disabled Tenderloin and South of Market residents seeking refuge
from cramped and unhealthy living conditions. The removal of the
benches has made the plaza virtually unusable for them.”
But
on the previous Saturday, the joint was jumpin’. Or at least
swaying mellow-yellowly. The occasion: the 2001 Space Odyssey
Marijuana March. Flyers touting Cannabis Freedom Day invited
passersby to “Come out to San Francisco to join the Drug Peace
Campaign in standing up for equal rights for pot smokers…. The
2001 Space Odyssey Pot Pride Rally will feature well-known speakers
on the subject of drug policy reform, live opening music, and the
rally will host an all-day techo dance party on UN Plaza
featuring well-known Bay Area DJs.” Who needs benches, anyway?
The wilding of the Call. Where
did they go? In this era of gratuitously trashed newsracks, last
week provided a mystery. The setting: the corner of 5th
& Market, where the chess players hang out. Where a Call box has
also hung out for many, many months.
Follow this train of events. A mid-week inspection
finds the newsrack’s window badly mutilated. Not to worry. Spare
parts are at hand, waiting to be installed during the calm of the
weekend.
On a quiet Sunday afternoon, a battered old Toyota
pulls up, bearing a new window. The newsrack is gone. Completely
vanished. Not to worry: A spare, rarely visited box is nearby, at a
corner where foot traffic is limited. It’s quickly transported to
5th & Market and fastened in place, awaiting Monday’s
deliveries.
Mid-afternoon the next day, a chance visit to the
corner in question turns up… no newsrack. Gone, just like its
predecessor. This one didn’t even have time to gather Market
Street grime.
B.C.
