Fanging
the Fox. A spiffy new awning graces an old
building in the Middle of Market Street. What a difference a year
makes! It’s no longer the Fox Warfield.
Ford today, gone tomorrow. What
a clamor arose when Ron Kaufman proposed demolishing the old S &
C Ford shop at 450 Rhode Island and building a mammoth Macro-Media
building in its place.
Nevertheless,
the bulldozers did their job and the walls came tumbling down, only
to leave what Dick Millet describes in the August Potrero View as
That Big Hole.
San Franciscans for Reasonable Growth sued,
reasoning that the plan would create not a freewheeling “business
service” but a full-fledged “office building,” governed by the
restrictions of Prop. M.
Millet reports that the case, which was thrown out
of court, is being appealed. In the meantime, however, Kaufman has
called it quits, although “he is willing to put together another
project more acceptable to the community and current attitudes about
Potrero Hill land use.”
Street life, Sunset style. Shortly
after 8 a.m. last Wednesday, a beige Honda pulled up onto the
sidewalk on 8th Avenue. The driver made no move to get out. He just
sat there. And sat there. And sat.
Was he spying on the occupants of the flat whose
entrance he blocked? Or staking out the apartment across the street?
Not in San Francisco.
A sign near the curb announced:
At 9:25 a meter maid passed, stopping just ahead
of him to ticket the only car parked on the street.
At 9:26 a street sweeper trundled by.
At 9:27, the Honda backed off the sidewalk and
parallel parked. The driver checked his alignment, front and back,
and walked into the house next door.
Nono
Park. Millions of tourists come every year
to Golden Gate Park, and thousands of local residents pay their
respects.
But what do they do there? Not much, if they’re
law-abiding. These days it’s hard to see the trees for the signs:
No cycling. No skating. No parking. No dogs. No. No. No.
But the prohibitions don’t seem to crimp anyone’s
style. There must be a sign saturation point, beyond which all
public notices become invisible, because the signs in the park don’t
make a bit of difference.
Play
ball!
B.C.
