The Coastal Post - August, 1996

Kat Fur For Kitten Britches

BY BOBBE VARGAS

We went to Fair to see the pigs race. We went to the Melvin Belli funeral as he was almost the last of the San Francisco characters. We went out on the Bay because it was so hot on land. We went to the City to remember what it used to be.

Well, San Francisco is still there, with Lotto's Fountain and Telegraph Hill. I used to sit on the seaside and watch Treasure Island and its beautiful Fair rose up out of the water as the Goddess hung out the Morning Star. The Donahue statue is still hard at work and the little cable cars try to cope with the tourists, poor thing things! The difference is the rudeness of the people on the streets, and the clothes. Remember when the ladies wore those structures known as tailored suits and carried purple parasols? They promenaded on Geary and always stopped to order groceries at Goldberg Bowens. All little girls received a goodie as the ladies tendered their orders to clerks who maneuvered brass baskets around the upper shelves. Davis Schonuaseir was next door at Stockton and Geary and the wonderful white house was across the street. Will there ever again be ribbons like they had?

Belli's funeral drew, as it should have, a mob! The Bishop in full mitered cap and gown presided. As we sat in that beautiful cathedral, we hoped all the concrete was well reinforced in case a shaker came along. The historical murals did not seem compatible to the building. A reception held at the Mark was mobbed with all sorts of folk, even including a monk in hassock and sandals. Farewell, Mel!

Left the Fair with a new respect for pigs—cute little guys. Was quite amazed at the Democrats re-registering to the Republican Party. There was a steady lineup at the Republican booth despite what the polls say.

So what is going on in the Tiburon Peninsula? The town of Tiburon is seemingly casting a speculative eye towards gobbling up its neighbors. If so, cut it out—people are not in the mood, and Belvedere beware.