sitting here resting my bones

Reds Java House
San Francisco, CA: I walked along the Embarcadero, beneath the Bay Bridge, through South Beach, on my way to AT&T Park. I wanted to draw the ballpark because my wife is a big Giants fan. On the way, I passed Red’s Java house, which I have wanted to sketch for some time. I’ve never been in here (and my lack of cash meant I didn’t go in this time either, plus I’d already eaten at Gott’s), but I know it’s historic and I always like a well-worn building in my sketchbook. I seem to recall Anthony Bourdain popped in for┬ábreakfast in one of his shows. This place has been here for the best part of a century, serving the dockers, later the dotcommers and then the Giants fans. Beyond, in the turquoise bay waters, huge container vessels from Korea, China, the Rest of the World came in to dock on the far side in Oakland, Alameda, or wherever, unloading their cargo to be hauled across the United States and its big economy. Behind me, lycra- and iPod-clad joggers jogged on. The Java drinkers at Red’s presumably watched, and I sketched none of it. For me, the building is story enough.