Gene and I went to the Albany Bulb on Sunday, seeking to escape the relentless techno and cheesy announcer at the Castro Street Fair.
The Bulb, if you do not know, is a former landfill for construction equipment. Once it stopped being used, people began making art from the scraps. Now you can go wander around these lovely waterfront paths where you will occasionally be confronted by odd graffiti or a sculpture made from rebar.
It’s a funny thing, to be forced out of the house a few times a year. We skip town during the Street Fair, Pride and Halloween. It’s a nuisance, but I think the neighborhood makes up for it the rest of the year, because absolutely everything is in walking distance: grocery stores, bookstores, gourmet coffee, comics, bars, Swedish Americans. The other day, Gene and I were debating what to do with the stack of electronics we’re planning to jettison, and Gene said “If only there was a store like that one in The 40 Year Old Virgin, where they sell your stuff on EBay.”
“There is,” I said. “It’s on 18th, just past Delano’s Market.”
Anyway, it’s scarcely a hardship at all to be forced out into the world, when the world contains things like the Albany Bulb.
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