Yeah, so, last night David and I saw “Spamalot” at the Golden Gate Theatre, located on the corner of Crack and Meth streets, errr, I mean, on the corner of 6th Street and Golden Gate Avenue.
Man oh man, I hate that area. Hate it! I’m so embarrassed for San Francisco. All of these wonderful Broadway shows come here and play the Golden Gate Theatre, Orpheum Theatre or the Curran Theatre, and they play in the absolute worst part of the city. All of these actors, musicians, etc., must be horrified when they are making their ways to the theater.
I think it is so sad that you pay $50 or more for a ticket to a high-quality Broadway-type show and there is no where near the theater to get a drink or have dinner. Instead, the area is besieged by every random druggie, homeless person and undiagnosed crazy in Northern California. Not that you have an appetite anyway. The urine smell pretty much takes care of that.
A few years ago, good buddy Kate and I saw Conan O’Brien when he did a week of shows at the Orpheum Theatre. I was so ashamed. He did several jokes about how crappy the area is. “How do you get to the Orpheum Theatre? You walk three blocks until you get stabbed and then you make a left.”
I used to work in that area. The Examiner had an office above the Warfield Theatre on the corner of 6th and Market streets. I had so much empathy for the people in the neighborhood at first. I would give them change, and even be polite when they “addressed” me. Slowly, they broke me down. They would practically chase me to my car. The harassment was too much. I became cold to them. I could feel my heart turning to stone. I hated that feeling. There were many nights that I drove home from work late at night and I would tear up thinking about how cold and indifferent I had become. I wanted to understand. These are human beings, after all. I hated having to harden up my soul just to walk to work. Eventually, I refused to make eye contact. I walked briskly to the office and back to the car. I never, EVER turned my head when they yelled, “Hey Red! Check this out!” You’ve seen one crazy druggie penis, you’ve seen them all. Trust me.
Seriously, San Francisco should be ashamed of itself for allowing an area of the city to be this way. I don’t know what can be done to fix it. Clearly, these people need help. You can’t just sweep them under the rug (or into a Millbrae).
Be careful, don’t trip on my soapbox.
So anyway, as for “Spamalot,” it was — of course — funny. We were in the cheap seats. I think there were two rows behind us. But we still had a good time. For the first couple of scenes, I kept thinking, “Oh yeah, that’s funny. I remember that from the movie. Boy, the movie is funny. I wish I was watching the movie.” The musical really kicked in for me when they get their quest. That’s when I really started laughing. Also, I could watch the French guards taunting King Arthur for two hours. When is that musical coming out?
9 Comments
July 3, 2009 at 12:43 pm
Chase you to your car? Not to bring up bad memories, but every time I’m in that neighborhood, I remember what that one guy DID to your car when you were waiting at a red light. Then again, your car was kind of asking for it.
July 3, 2009 at 12:45 pm
HA! I believe you are referring to the incident in which a crazy man humped my car while I was stopped at a red light. I, too, will never forget that. I just opted to leave that story out of my little rant.
July 3, 2009 at 12:50 pm
But it’s such a good story. I’ve used it to illustrate the (usual, but not always) character of that neighborhood to out-of-towners, and it always garners either laughter or appalled silence.
July 4, 2009 at 9:21 am
I agree. I was waiting for you to mention the great humping incident. Also: Hi Tom!
July 3, 2009 at 1:15 pm
A couple of buddies and I decided we were going to a pool hall near there — can remember for the life of me why.
We parked, walked to the end of the block, surveyed what waited us across the street, turned around and fled… and we were not exactly tiny people…
That was at least 10 years ago… What we need is a reprise of Frank Jordan’s plan: Matrix II…
July 7, 2009 at 6:30 pm
AH yes. Good times. I remember them well.
Or when you had to bypass the crack addicts to get to the Thai restaurant.
Or the time I actually counted 18-straight offers for weed when going to and fro to my car in the parking lot.
Or the time the homeless dude nearly molested Sonia when we were on the street because of the fire alarms going off in the Warfield.
Or having to fear for my life while making the three block trek to BART. Funny, I started driving in since it was only one block away.
Or the contact highs you’d get every time a stoner band would play the Warfield … actually it didn’t even have to be a stoner band.
July 7, 2009 at 6:33 pm
You know I almost forgot.
The time that Deirdre had to kick the ass of the dude that stole Sonia’s purse. And the pursuit went around a few city blocks. This might have been after we moved to the financial district now that I Think about it but still a classic.
July 7, 2009 at 6:39 pm
I can’t believe I didn’t include the story about being practically molested outside the office! I think Adriel or Jeffrey actually stepped in to get the guy away from me. The guy kept trying to get me to use his Chapstick! Gross!
The mugging incident happened after we moved to the other building. Still, it’s a classic story. Vintage DH!
July 3, 2009 at 12:51 pm
The kicker is how I missed the green light because he wasn’t finished … People had to drive around me while I sat there in shock.