Sometime since the last time I was up on 24th Street in the Mission, somebody swiped one of the panels of this adorable huge vertical plastic sign. The missing panel had a big E on the left and a big A on the right.
Or maybe there was no nefariousness. But it is hard to imagine an alternative. Did that one panel just fall down by itself and nobody has got around to putting it back up again? I don't think so.
I'd say the Mission is unfailingly the most hospitable of San Francisco neighborhoods. People stand aside for one another. They smile, even at strangers.
That stubby openwork iron pole with crisscross construction and big bolts supports a power cable for MUNI's electric buses. Judging from the style it has stood on this spot since the Thirties. In fact you can tell just by looking that it was fabricated at the same period as the Golden Gate Bridge. Even though it is never noticed by any tourists.
When I turned right from 24th onto Mission the first thing I noticed was this row of Victorians with their undignified bottom skirts. Looks like they have a good relationship with the palm tree.
This building on Mission near 24th is where my new dentist is located. I went in last week for a cleaning and the people there were just about as friendly and competent as it is possible to be.
My boyfriend grew up in this neighborhood. Forty years ago he often used to go along with his mother to the Lucky Pork Store where she bought most of her meat and vegetables. These days she lives in Bernal Heights and shops at Safeway. But in those olden days I am reliably informed that brown people were not welcome at any stores except those on Mission Street. Which is also the reason why there were four flourishing movie theaters on Mission Street then, all derelict now. San Francisco's stores and movie theaters and housing were unofficially but effectively segregated by race until the 1970s.
There are many discount clothing stores on Mission (as above) but a fairly low number of bars (as below).
On the way home I left Mission and started cutting through alleys.
The big Zen dot on the garage door reminded me of the Samurai show at the Asian Art Museum, seen last Friday. The exhibition mostly consists of artifacts hoarded by a single family of Japanese nobles who inherited and preserved the accumulated loot generation after generation over the past 800 years. Their enormous silk battle banner (shown under Plexiglas) displays a motif remarkably similar to this garage door.