Sunday, January 13, 2008
Easy Going Sunday
It started off as a not-great outing, I have to admit. Kel and I were both bickering over who was in the bad mood and who was just trying to get past it but kept being antagonized by the other one. It was the second beautiful day of the weekend and we’d already accomplished many great things (including finally watching SuperBad, seeing friends, getting some good exercise in the park, shopping for lots of critical household supplies, steamcleaning the kitchen floor - yes it needed it - and suchlike). But we were sniping and sourfaced as we pulled away from the curb on our little trip. Kel wondered if I really wanted to go to the museum; I didn’t have a better idea but would really rather have taken the bus since it’s cheaper than paying for parking downtown, inasmuch as we’d still be paying to get into the museum once we got there. Things did not bode well.
Downtown, Kel suggested that I try a drive-by to find a parking space on the street before we caved and went to the lot, which was several blocks away and not exactly cheap. In the spirit of placation I did so but I harbored doubt in my heart, because you simply cannot find street parking anywhere near SFMOMA on a Sunday. The driveby was unproductive and I started circling semi-randomly. I did try to get into a different, more nearby, parking lot, but missed the entrance and then couldn’t circle around again because of one-way streets. Despite my best intentions to the contrary, the angry humors were starting to bubble up out of my gallbladder just like I’d read about in my medieval medical texts. And suddenly, dammit, we were right back at the museum again and there isn’t ever any parking there and OH HOLY CRAP HE’S PULLING OUT! Right in front of the museum, right in front of us, a parking space opened up and we slid in like a manta ray on its manta prey. Whoo-hoo! Plus, street parking is free on Sundays - this was a zero-cost resolution with maximum convenience. I was floored.
So now we’re at the museum doors and I’m seeing an unusual number of little kids with artsy projects like paper hats and beaded necklaces. In front of the door, there’s a little table set up and the guy behind it asks if we’re SF residents. Yeah I am and whatzit tuya? Do we have proof? Yeah, dude, I smugly reply, flashing my DL. Very good, welcome to SFMOMA, it’s family day, here’s your free tickets and a wristband that lets you in to, like, 34 other places around town today for free too. To this, I had no smug reply. I just gathered my mandible off the doormat and sashayed inside with my now-entirely-delighted family.
First stop was the second floor for Olafur Eliasson’s special ending-that-day exhibit of a BMW hydrogen-powered race car, which he’d stripped down, re-housed in a cool metal mesh cage, and then froze into a lattice of ice.* The exhibit space was 18 degrees F (or 265 Kelvin, if that’s easier for ya) so we were provided with fleecy blankets to keep us warm as we gaped at it. Honestly, it was pretty cool, along with being witch-tit cold. Then again, Eliasson’s Icelandic so he probably didn’t notice it much.
Then we traipsed up to Floor 5 for the rest of the Eliasson exhibit, which totally rocked - amazing spaces full of rippling lights, pulsing lights, intersecting colors and reflections, and - my favorite - special lamps that killed all color: under them, my green shirt and Z’s red shirt were the same color and everything looked like it was in a b&w movie. Then there was the crystalline jeweltones of the colortunnel, five stories above the lobby which was visible beneath us through a mesh floor, and the giant kaleidoscope star, and the tunnel of basaltoid hexagons, and the room with the curtain of mist that caught the light just so.... Z was fascinated by it all and so were we. Then we took a quick spin through the long-term and permanent collections, which are excellent, and had a nice snack at their cafe, which left us ready for a bit of outside fun.
Two blocks away was Zeum, the kids’ museum and lab for creativity. We had ten minutes left to get in free there with our family day wristbands but even though we made it in time the line was brutal so we just cruised over to the enormous and adjacent Yerba Buena playground and rode on slides. Then we visited the also-adjacent rink so Z could marvel at ice skating, which he now insists “we have to do;” luckily, we’re going to a bar mitzvah soon where the reception party will be at a rink and he can get his fill of falling on his ass with knives on his feet. Good times ahead, eh?
But our day was not yet over - we headed across the bridge over Howard Street to Yerba Buena Park and visited the MLK watergarden to cool our racing pulses before returning to our car. It was just coming on to suppertime so we drove back homeward and a little beyond to check out the old neighborhood burger place that just re-opened, much expanded and improved; my burger and fresh house-made potato chips were just as I remembered them as having been: delicious. Satiated and home again, Z watched some tube and then submitted cheerfully to a calming bath, and then fell asleep in half the time I’m used to spending getting him to fall asleep. We even got to watch the penultimate episode of Amazing Race on the same night it was broadcast - almost unheard-of! (extra bonus: elimination of a team we disliked.)
In all, it was a highly-successful second-half of a day that gave every initial indication that it was not going to go very well. I guess my object lesson there is that, when life gives you the parking space you really need, get ready for things to get better out of the car than they had been going in the car. Maybe that’s not much of a lesson but with a day like today I don’t need much of one. Here’s hoping your week starts with good parking and just picks up from there.
Coming up: oh, let’s stick with parking stories - how about the one about when we found our car going to church at 2 in the morning? You will, as they say, get a kick out of it.
*Photo courtesy of SFMOMA and Studio Olafur Eliasson
