Derelict Junction

Providing missile launch codes for foreign cryptographers everywhere.

Thursday, July 22, 2004


I thought long and hard on a title and am still not completely happy with this one, but I think the word dereliction fits best. Not, derelict as in the social misfit definition. Rather dereliction, as in "dereliction of duty", an intentional abandonment. Like if you fail to show up for your military physicals because you're too busy blowing lines of coke off a hooker, as our president did. Or if you fail to show up for your life for the very same reasons, like I have. Dereliction.

I was going to call it the Daily Derelict, but that would imply I was going to write it every day, which isn't likely. Then again, Derelict would make it clear I'd be intentionally abandoning it from time to time, regardless of the "Daily" part, so it would make perfect sense, in a ridiculous way.

Anyway, here we go. Went to the bar Anu last night at 6th and Mission. Damn that neighborhood has changed! I used to tell people it was the worst corner in San Francisco, and while it definitely still has sketch wandering about, it's no where near as bad as it was 6 years ago. I guess it's just a matter of time before the hipsters invade every bad neighborhood. So get used to black-rimmed glasses, Hunter's Point.

Entertainment was provided by reknowned British superstar-slacker DJ, James Lavelle, who is (or was) the resident DJ of Fabric in London when I went there 3 years ago. The music was great, and the crowd was really friendly. The first guy I met while waiting for Andrew to show turned out to be the opening DJ. It's nice to be talking to a complete stranger and have them say, "Hey, gotta go now," only to see them behind the turntables 15 minutes later. Met another dude who just moved here from Manhattan and he couldn't stop talking about how much he likes SF so far. He kept saying how friendly and nice people out here are. He was definitely a New Yorker, but not of the Meathead fashion. I told him that, while I still love the Northeast, all the people I really liked from back there have made their way through the Bay Area at one point or another. It seems it's only the loud obnoxious Yankee and Sox fans who don't like SF, which is great for us. While I'll always be a Sox fan, just one night in Fenway with all those brutish assholes, waiting for their delusional Corrs Light fantasies to come true, never fails to make me proud to be a Californian.