Posted on 11/29/2021 9:19:56 PM PST by thecodont
“For about three years, I lived alone in a century-old 8-by-10 hotel room above a radical feminist bookstore, a cluttered storefront that sold sequined negligees and a massage parlor called Healing Winds that never seemed to be open. Had I not, I’d probably be a completely different person.”
Utterly tragic. What the hell happened to the women in this country?
In 1974-1975, I occasionally used a “guest house” on Sacramento St at Van Ness when I was in SF. It was a step up from SRO, but same idea. You got a private room, shared bath, and community breakfast. I had a traveling field engineering job and didn’t want to waste money on an apartment in my home base city since I was out on field assignment about 97% of the time. It wasn’t luxurious, but it sufficed. The “guest houses” weren’t full of druggies and winos back then. I always wondered what happened to that place.
This was a well written and somehow satisfying article to read. If Ariana Bindman has written any novels or a bio, I would be interested in taking a peek.
Your statement intrigued me, so I clicked on the link and read the entire story.
Sadly, I found the complete article somewhat disappointing. It has some merits, but remains unsatisfyingly superficial (though, admittedly, this may not be the author's fault, but rather an unavoidable consequence of the constraints of newspaper writing).
And I'll be charitable and attribute the multiple orthographical errors I stumbled across in it to her editor's negligence / incompetence.
Regards,
I have my own story about living in that neighborhood in the late 60s early 70s. The Hotel Virginia on OFarrell. That was my spot. I didn’t choose it but I ended up there for a while and it was quite interesting. A memory I can’t believe I had. I think it’s still there.
I may be sentimental about it, because I had good times in the Oakland, San Fransico and Berkeley areas during my Navy years (early 80’s).
I started out on a 77 foot wooden ship, a Minesweeper called The Illusive out of Charleston,SC.
After reenlistment, I was on an aircraft carrier called
The Enterprise.
We were based in Alameda, California.
Some of the hotel tenants she described, reminded me of people I met while waiting overnight at the main bus stop in San Fran on Embarcadero St. If you were out too late, and missed the last bus to the East Bay at about 2.15AM, you had to sit in this giant bus stop and wait until 5.45AM for the first bus to board.
What do you mean? She was 22 ...
You mean the old San Francisco Transbay Terminal? It was closed in August 2010 and torn down for its replacement.
Lots of interesting characters to see there at the old terminal.
Torn down, you say? Oh no!
Ah well. Every building houses it’s own memories.
Thank you for letting me know.
As you can see, I don’t get into The City very often these days.
Seriously!
Regards,
“All In Good Time!”
In the same vein, here is an article about living in an old building - in Oakland.
I will be reading that article tomorrow after Sunrise.
Thought at first that that might have been a misspelling (for "Elusive"), but then confirmed (via Wikipedia) that that is, indeed, the correct spelling.
Interesting history!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Illusive_(AM-448)#:~:text=USS%20Illusive%20%28AM-448%2FMSO-448%29%20was%20an%20Agile%20-class%20minesweeper,water%20to%20prevent%20the%20safe%20passage%20of%20ships.
Strange that there's no mention of it being wooden.
Regards,
In Japan, SRO is called a capsule hotel or a hostel. Although they are much better maintained, cleaner, and have more facilities for guests.
What do I mean? I mean it’s tragic for a 22 year old girl to live like an animal on skid row like that, right above a whorehouse and a sex shop. That’s a long way from where an American woman wanted to be not long ago. And she’s romanticizing about it, instead of hiding it. So the question stands, what the hell has happened to American women?
Nice article and the picture shows an apartment much nicer than my thought processes allowed for.
But my BS meter went crazy on her comment;
“and I still wish I had remembered everyone’s names. Like old friends, the neighborhoods we know and love change and move on”
I am 62 years old and my “old friends” from the 70’s and early 80’s are still in my heart and head, I remember their names and still can tell stories. Just ask my kids.
She didn’t care a bit, and once she was gone, they were gone. But now she can make money by writing about the good times in the Tenderloin. I would wager she didn’t think they were too good then, because she left as soon as some ‘boyfriend’ would support her lifestyle.
Agree. I enjoyed the read too.
All of the older ‘sweeps were. Didn’t want to set any boom-booms off dontchaknow. Testy things...
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