Hotsy Totsy

[Not much to say, except huge mercis to Queerscribe and Brendan for input on my essay. I incorporated several of their suggestions, and it, along with the rest of the application, is turned in. Next up: the LSAT, on June 11th, the day after my birthday. Studystudystudystudy...]

[With nothing original to say, I must comment on a few things that have caught my eye...]

[Dean's picture of the Hotsy Totsy Club, a fabulously wretched dive on San Pablo Avenue in Albany. My grandmother used to be the receptionist at the mortuary that still graces San Pablo, over the border in El Cerrito. Late fifties/early-to-mid-sixties, she and my mother lived in the apartment above the mortuary, and Mom remembers the Hotsy Totsy and the nearby Mallard as two dive bars that she and her East Bay friends were too scared to enter. I discovered last year at my sister's birthday that the Mallard has been yuppified in a very "Chris Isaak Show" kind of way, but the HT is still scaaaaary.]

[Mom used to live in El Cerrito and attend San Francisco State. This is pre-BART and pre-Muni Metro, so picture, if you will, the bus ride across the bay, then the M train ride all the way down Market Street, into the tunnel at Castro, then all the way out to State. She finally moved into a house off Holloway, and who can blame her?]

[Oh, and Casey: when he said he was greeted by a box from Powell's, I immediately feared for his vegetarian soul, for what would a take-out order from the Place be without fried chicken, smoked sausage, or rice with meat gravy. I quickly realized my mistake, but it got me in the mood, so that's where John and I went last night. Does Roto Rooter do arteries?]

[Later: one last thing that also reminded me of my mother in the early 60's: she used to work in the glove department at the White House department store, in downtown S.F. where Banana Republic is now. That's the trouble with retail today: no glove departments!]

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