One truly stunning white-on-red classic effortlessly contributes a generous splash of panache to my neighborhood street. While such a specimen of historic German elegance emerges from a long line of attractive relatives competing for their place, this particular 1961 190 SL also happens to hold its own, making a powerfully nostalgic statement all by itself.
“It’s no longer The City. It’s not the fog-lined streets Herb Caen described as a woman putting on her slip and sneaking out in the pre-dawn shadows of Sunday morning. It’s not the foghorn quieting conversation over cocktail hour. It’s not finding comfort in all the similarly octagon-tiled bathroom floors of Pacific Heights.” (Pridgen/DPBSports)
Having lived in “The City” for three years after spending significant time there throughout two decades preceding, the idea of moving back occasionally crosses my mind. Then when I read articles such as this quoted above, I’m reminded that my occasional idea is not exactly a good one, sadly enough. While there seem to be more ways that ever to say “it’s not,” perhaps the hardest one of all, personally speaking, is to say: “It’s not for me (in more ways than it is).”
But then, change comes to everyone and everything, as fortunately and unfortunately very little remains the same forever. On that note, check with me in five years for an update to my thoughts on living in San Francisco. That change might come sooner than we think.
Ryan R. Sanderson 