FRIDAY FIVE
The pandemic might be better, but it is still never-ending. The smoke hasn’t socked us in yet, but the threat of it looms constantly. We are all now fully aware of how extensively and irrevocably we have screwed up our planet. On top of it all, you’ve recently decided to buy life insurance, and facing your mortality as a monthly premium is both terrifying and depressing (No? Just me?).
What’s a person to do when the existential dread of life, both in the personal realm and the world as a whole, feels like it’s crushing you? We’re all tired of drinking at home. We do not want to be cheered up with a fun road trip. We can (thank the universe) head to our favorite dive bars to moodily drink alone again, but then there is a very real danger that an unmasked rando might come talk to you.
No, the only thing to do is to start journaling your feelings again, tween-style. So grab a notebook, a pen, and warm gloves because apparently, Fogust has decided to carry on through September.
I’ve rounded up a few places around San Francisco that will really help you lean into these feelings. Here are five of my favorites.
Fort Funston (Ocean Beach)
Despite its name, it doesn’t usually feel like much fun. It is perpetually wreathed in fog, the stairs down to the water are painfully long, and the topside is so open and wind-whipped it looks like a post-apocalyptic atomic wasteland. If it is frustratingly sunny, climb down in or next to a bunker where you can’t see any blue sky.
Do your best to avoid the hang-gliding area, since watching people fling themselves off the side of a cliff sheerly for the joy of it will definitely kill your mood.
The Wind Harp (South San Francisco)
This 92-foot tall metal sculpture is so starkly imposing, you’ll feel your dread increasing with every step you take towards it. It is surrounded by corporate Genentech buildings on one side and views of the bay on the rest. There are a few benches a bit down the hill past it, but nothing can beat sitting on the concrete steps near the bottom.
It’s hard to know what’s more depressing — the eerie metallic wailing sounds it makes when the wind is blowing just right, or the fact that half the time you won’t actually even hear a single sad note.
Heron’s Head Park (Bayview)
The best feature of this park is the creepy, decaying bridge to nowhere out in the middle of the water. Sit on a rock facing the bridge to write your feels and watch the seagulls continue to shit all over one of humanity’s greatest achievements. The first few feet of coastline above the water are coated in thick algae, reminding you of how we are poisoning all of our major waterways. The constant wind will ensure you never relax to the gentle sound of lapping water.
Any large chain establishment.
A Starbucks, a Mcdonald's, a cafe inside a Whole Foods, even the food court at the mall will do in a pinch. These places are filling the pockets of their top executives while paying their employees minimum wage. The lighting will make your eye twitch and the number of people mindlessly trudging up to the counter and swiping their credit cards will inspire your writing to deeper depths.
If you’re tempted to think, “Hey, people just want to enjoy their lattes, what’s so bad about that?” try to focus on the incredible amount of waste this single place is creating right in front of your eyes.
The Columbarium (Inner Richmond)
It is cliche to suggest a final resting place as somewhere to go to explore your sad feelings, but hear me out. The Columbarium is at the end of a street that’s so ordinary and suburban, it’s creepy. Plus, for just 2.3 million dollars, one of these tiny homes could be yours, reminding you of one of the main reasons there are no actual cemeteries in San Francisco anymore — the real estate is worth too much. The Neo-Classical architecture of the building itself is lovely and possessed by an odd cheeriness that you may find both comforting and disturbing. It is one of the only resting places in San Francisco proper that still has space available. Lucky you. It’s the only way you’ll ever afford to live in this neighborhood.
It’s conveniently located just a few blocks from the delightful Cinderella Bakery & Cafe, in case you need to eat your feelings after writing about them.
Stern Grove (Sunset District)
Sit under the Redwoods and think about how small and insignificant you are. Walk through the grassy lawns and around the pond, the experience of which will be ruined by the stench of dog pee. The fact that half the park is now closed due to a water main breakage (sadly awaiting hugely expensive repairs) will add to your mood and validate those feelings you have about how nothing good can last. Once the stage is open again, you can sit in the center of it on non-concert days and feel devastatingly alone.
Life in a big city like San Francisco is amazing, but only if you can also appreciate the more melancholy aspects she holds.
The view of Golden Gate Bridge from Marina Green might make your heart soar, but the dreariness of a windy, overcast day at Ocean Beach will bring you down instantly, especially if you’ve shown up with an armload of beach chairs, sunglasses, and hope. The only way to endure is to love it all, bring layers everywhere, and write like anyone will ever care about what you have to say one day.
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