Go East

[Addendum to Hotsy Totsy (which I was hoping other East Bay-ites would turn into a meme): My coworker Sara (whose East Bay roots extend as deeply as mine, though her family, too, lit out inthe 1960's or 70's for more suburban pastures) says that lower down on San Pablo, in Albany's "nicer" section, there are two other bars that exist in a binary orbit not unlike the Mallard and the HT: the Ivy Room, where they serve hard likker and the regulars have been holding up the bar since my grandparents lived in the town (for some reason, Sara pronounces the first syllable "al," not "ahl"), and Club Muse, a newer joint run by Sara's friend, which is supposed to have a quirkier, more modern-alternative-retro feel, and serves only beer, wine, and a few dishes. If they were closer to a BART station, I'd have to check them out.]

[Why does the East Bay have such a hold on my imagination lately? Forced to guess, I'd say I've worn a deep rut in my San Francisco "things-to-do" list. That list is shaped by the larger rut of 9-to-5, gym (sometimes), home, bar-and/or-dinner in a small list of neighborhoods, and weekends spent doing the same old things (including the VERY well-worn road to Sonoma). I know there's lots to do and see in the city that I haven't done or seen, but it's hard to shake myself out of old habits. And so, I look toward the nearest different place accessible by BART. If I had to guess, the closest parallel would be Manhattanites suddenly discovering Brooklyn's hidden charms.]

[Ace in the hole: I assume law school will expose me to whole chunks of San Francisco of which I currently know nothing. All my eggs. One basket. Eek.]

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