September 17 is an important holiday for me, a major anniversary in my timeline: It was on this day in 1996 that I moved from my hometown in the semi-rural suburbs of Pittsburgh to San Francisco. It's a story I've told friends before, but I never mind telling it again.I was a year out of college and utterly stagnating in the summer of 1996, paralyzed by some level of depression, a perceived lack of job and social opportunities, and a fuzzy understanding of what I was to do with my life. My late friend Brandon, who'd moved to SF immediately following our college graduation in May 1995, got back in touch with me and extolled the virtues of the city. I told him how much I'd always idealized SF - going back to my junior high school days of discovering the Jefferson Airplane and certain components of hippie culture - and how I'd long wanted to live there.
"So why aren't you here?" Brandon asked me point blank. He was good at cutting through clutter that way.
Six weeks later, with his offer of a place to stay and help finding work, I was on a plane on a Tuesday morning with a suitcase and a duffel bag of my meager possessions. I touched down and taxied to the corner of Market and Montgomery, looked around, eyes agape, mystified immaculate. That afternoon, en route to a pilgrimage to the Airplane's old residence at 2400 Fulton Street, I paused in the Panhandle adjoining Golden Gate Park, nervous about this great change I'd brought upon myself. I pulled out my walkman and nudged its radio dial, looking for a radio station to come in clearly. As I wondered if I'd made the right decision, a song suddenly came in, clear as sky: "Are you still free? Can you be?"
Since that day, Steve Winwood's "While You See a Chance" has held a talismanic power for me, a constant reminder that yes, I am still free. I'll have more to say about Brandon another day; this is my day to celebrate and thank San Francisco for its role in my becoming the man I wanted to become.
5 comments:
Your story is not unlike mine. I came to San Francisco in 1978 from the bleak realities, even then, of Detroit. I didn't fit in the midwest mentality, I didnt know what to do with my life and every night I dreamed of moving to California. I too was looking for inspiration from the golden age of San Francisco, Big Sur, Esalen and the openness that California represents. My muse was also Steve Winwood. My San Francisco move song was Shanghai Noodle Factory from his days in Traffic "Had to make a break, soon I had to wake up feeling stronger, feeling stronger. In my island of dreams, with impossible schemes." Alan (in Marin now)
And you came in at just the right time, too, economically speaking. Maybe when you go back, you will again be the harbinger of prosperity. Someday!
-D*
"...becoming the man I wanted to become."
That's saying a lot. I can't say that. I don't know if many people can.
what a great song. It's like an window opening up, offering a choice, a chance of something new. It could be anything. It could be anything.
The way forward is what it's all about.
I want to thank you all for your thoughtful comments. It's always a thrill to hear how the West has invigorated someone, and to hear someone look to the future with a sense of possibility rather than one of condemnation. Let us be, amen.
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