21st and Florida streets, the Mission, San Francisco. I like the sign. Who wouldn't. There was a chalkboard on the sidewalk in front advertising "Maple Bacon Latte." If it's a caffeinated beverage, it's a flavor I haven't yet sampled. I'll go in and find out next time.
I happened to be walking by this corner because I fell asleep on BART--an old trick I have that dates back to days and nights on the Illinois Central in Chicagoland--and rode past my usual stop at 16th and Mission and wound up at 24th. It's happened once before since I've worked at KQED, and maybe I should make it a habit. The walk from 24th is immensely more interesting and pleasant--more life in the neighborhood, less of a feeling of a place that's been pounded flat by poverty, crime, indifference and desultory redevelopment--than the one from 16th Street. Such are the impressions of the work-bound walker, anyway. You need to sleep in a place, hear the street noise at night, spend a while seeing who's going where during the day to get even the faintest sense of a neighborhood.
