'Ten years ago I walked this street, my dreams were riding tall/Tonight I would be thankful Lord, for any dreams at all/Some folks would be happy just to have one dream come true/But everything you gather is just more that you can lose/All the things I planned to do, I only did half way/Tomorrow will be Sunday, born of rainy Saturday/There's some satisfaction in the San Francisco rain/No matter what comes down, the Mission always looks the same/walking along in the Mission in the rain..." (lyric by Robert Hunter)
It's a late October Sunday here, and the rain has been steadily pissing down for the past 24 or so hours. Which in certain parts of town that are home to sports bars, or any bar with a TV really, will help wash away whatever technicolor effluence collected in the curbs and sidewalks outside such estabs last night, commemorating the Giants' playoff win.
But today promises to be sobering and depressingly damp, which gives me the perfect excuse to put up this song. Not for its associations with a certain 'legendary' local group (and we promise our dear readers not to make a habit of it). More really for this particular version by a more contemporary local singer/songster.
Emory Joseph capably captures the mixed emotions, the mope and magic, about spending a day out in the rain, head full of insecure plans and dreams, with no special purpose but to absorb the vibe of the storefronts and enduring culture of the Mission District.
(listen to excerpt or dl)
(And for a more detailed personal view of the Mission... a piece by yours truly, from the great UK ezine Tangents)
'Paradise Found In A Lost Weekend'