Hello friends! I have a sick wee one at home so I am going to split my big post into two parts. Today is the Polaroid part and tomorrow will be the Canon part of my trip to San Francisco last week. The special place I visited is the last place that I lived with my dad: Rincon Towers at 88 Howard Street.
When I went off to college at Cal State Long Beach, my dad almost immediately left the suburbs of San Jose for city life in San Francisco. He chose Rincon Towers as his re-entry point after 17 years away from a city. He was a native New Yorker, and while he didn't want to raise me there, it had been quite a sacrifice for him to leave and live in suburbs all that time. I always thought that was a mistake but hey, I was the kid right?
I struggled quite a bit at CSULB, and after two years, came crawling home. I joined my dad at Rincon Towers and got a full-time job in a law firm. I lived there with him for almost 1.5 years before I went back to college in southern California. We didn't last long in his one-bedroom, so we switched towers and moved to a two-bedroom on the 22nd floor facing the water.
We each had a short commute to work and we would often walk in together with our espresso coffees from the cafe in the plaza of our apartment towers. My office was on California Street and his was on Montgomery. Some days, it was very windy and I would hop on the cable car for the last couple of blocks.
After I returned to college, my dad couldn't really afford that two-bedroom so he moved into a studio. I remember he was very frustrated by three moves in three years, even though he was happy I was going back to school. It was a lot of hassle for him. Parenting, huh? Shortly after that he found a great pad in North Beach and that was the very last place I saw him happy.
Part Two, tomorrow.