The city still has a bit of magic left in it, and it occurs each day during what I like to call “The Golden Hours of San Francisco.”
From approximately 10am to 3pm, the city cannot possibly be any better. The sun is bright and the weather is warm. There’s no cold ocean breeze, and you can wear shorts and sandals as you stroll through empty parks. There’s parking galore in most neighborhoods while everyone is away at work. You can get from any one point in the city to another in record time, and there’s no crowds when you get to wherever it is you are going. I can drive to the store, get a parking spot steps from the entrance, fill my cart in empty aisles, and checkout in just a few minutes, returning to my apartment with a parking spot right smack dab in front of the building. Ah, the Golden Hours…
There are, of course, several drawbacks in my otherwise blissful midday existence in San Francisco. One is that often, construction may be taking place on my beloved streets, so although there aren’t many drivers on the road, there’s enough that can’t merge around some cones to slow down your trip. The other is that most people are friendly, helpful, and good natured at heart, but also most people happen to be at work. The people that are hanging out during the Golden Hours aren’t most people, so occasionally adventure awaits your next visit to the post office or laundromat.
But the Golden Hours remind me of how the city used to be. When I was a small kid in the 70s in Southern California, San Francisco always seemed cool and laid-back, with lots to do and see. Everyday you can go back in time, and enjoy what everyone was writing and singing about lo those many years ago.