san francisco.

I had an insomniac night of sorts. Couldn't sleep until 4am. 'Course, that was my fault, because I was listening to my old CD mixes...you know, those CDs you burn yourself with a million great songs on 'em, only you never really listen again after the first few weeks because you can't remember which songs are on which and don't really care to squint at all them teeny track names written on the CD surface?

Yeah. Those.

It occurred to me, you know, that I'm not going to live in San Francisco forever. I can't. It's one of those cities where you only really realize how much you love it when you're away from it. Like last night, I was listening to that (admittedly retarded, but still really pretty) song by what's his name. The San Francisco song? When you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair - that one.

That SF doesn't exist anymore, not really - the whole summer of love thing is behind us. But the sort of love that drove that song still exists, very much. You can tell. The words are corny and hippie-idealistic, but the melody is beautiful and wistful. See, it's a leaving-San-Francisco kind of song. You don't really know what you have unless you can't really have it.

God, how many cities, really, inspires songs? And I don't mean songs like that Viva Las Vegas song, those party songs. I mean songs - love songs, practically, sung to so much steel and concrete. What makes a city more than the sum of its materials and ingredients?

Evening fog, sunlight, skyline, bridges, distance.

Distance.

Heh, I really love the city. I don't think it's something I can explain, but come to the City, live here a few months, and you'll understand. Well - no. Don't live here. Live across the Bay where you see it shining in the sunset every night. Or live down in San Jose, or even Palo Alto (if you can afford it). You'll be amazed at the feelings that churn in your gut every time you round that last bend and see the city rising up before you, white in the day, golden in the sunset, sparkling in the night.

But like I was saying, if you live there too long, it's like living in Hershey, Pennsylvania. You get used to it. While SF's charm isn't anything so easily defined as a smell (though, to be honest, just how easy is it to define a smell? Really define it?), it's the same concept. You get inured to it.

So, yeah. I'll live here through my residency years. Then, when I'm in my thirties or whatever, I'll go wherever my job takes me. And then I'll look back on these days as a sort of golden age lived in the city I love.