HIGH SCHOOL REUNION

Certain things from my 50th high school reunion stand out:

·          The person who lied about his career to increase his stature

·          The person who was most humble about his remarkable achievements

·          The person who rushed up and hugged me so I couldn’t see his name tag, but I somehow knew instantly who he was

·          The woman who was probably the most likable person in the class, but could no longer show her natural warm self because of an illness

·          The woman I looked at for a long time trying to figure out who she reminded me of.

·          A former flame that I’m still drawn to, even though I realized we were so incompatible.

·          A woman who seemed too easy to recognize until I realized I had just seen her two years earlier

·          The man who in a warm way spent a long time telling me how he has adapted to retirement

·          The one conversation that went beyond the, “Hi, what have you been doing for 50 years” level and got into religion and the paths our children were following

·          The poster with photographs of classmates who have died, more curious than emotional, but I did feel a sadness when I saw a sweet person there whom I hadn’t heard about.

In general, I had a somewhat easier time remembering people than I thought I would, but what I couldn’t remember was the kind of relationships I had with the people.  What did we talk about?  What did we do together?  What were their personalities like? 

Other than seeing my old classmates, the reunion activities were not memorable.  The food ranged from good to uneatable.  Few people danced to the music from the DJ, and people virtually ignored the contests such as “who’s been married the longest” and “who traveled farthest.”

 
As the reunion thinned out, I didn’t want to go around saying good-bye to people because I couldn’t remember whom I had talked to and I also didn’t want to strike up conversations with new people. I think the event was just too big, and it would have been better to have lots of little reunions. I now regret not accepting the invitation of the fellow who said, “I’m having some people over tomorrow...”

George Washington High School

As part of my high school class’ 50th reunion celebration, the planning committee organized a tour of the school a day before the big dinner. I wasn’t that interested in going since it would have meant I would have to confront my reunion apprehensions and drive into San Francisco for two days in a row.

But, then, by a remarkable coincidence, the Art Deco Society of California (www.artdecosociety.org) planned its own tour of my high school on the same day as the dinner. The school, George Washington High School in San Francisco (http://gwhs-sfusd-ca.schoolloop.com/), is a remarkable deco structure. It was fortunate to have been built on a hill with in an extraordinary view of the Golden Gate Bridge. The auditorium, plaza, sunken football field and lower tennis courts seem to flow like a cascade towards the Golden Gate. The architect was the renowned Timothy Pflueger and there were frescos by Victor Arnautoff, Ralph Stackpole, Lucien Labaudt, and Gordon Langdon. A 185-foot long bas-relief by Sargent Johnson covers the entire width of the football field behind one of the goals. (See http://www.newdealartregistry.org/NewDealArtRegistry.html#)

Photo by Shelly Levintal

I’m a card-carrying member of the Art Deco Society and being able to get a tour led by the society’s preservation director, as well as being able to get it without a separate trip into the City, was irresistible. I also felt there might be others like me, so with the permission of the Society I forwarded the announcement to my classmates.

Eight of them showed up and most of us agreed: All this beauty, the architecture, the murals, the site itself, was totally wasted on us as high school students. One classmate said that her recollection of one of the murals was simply that she’d meet friends under the “D.I.,” short for “Dead Indian,” one of the figures in Arnautoff’s “Life of Washington” fresco. As for myself, there was no chance to notice the art since I was far too worried about being accepted by my male comrades, being attractive to females, and avoiding the “queer” appellation that was the favorite put-down of the day.

A TRIP TO TREASURE ISLAND

Recently a friend and I visited Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay.  The main purpose of our trip was to have lunch at the restaurant run by the Job Corps, a training program sponsored by the U.S. Department of Labor  (http://treasureisland.jobcorps.gov/home.aspx).  The food was good as was the service, although there were perhaps a few too many, “If you need anything else’s ...”  The dining area was an old Navy building that, unfortunately, did not afford any of the outstanding vistas that you can find on the island.

After lunch we explored Building One, a beautiful art deco structure that originally was an airplane terminal serving the Pan American Clipper seaplanes that flew the Pacific.  Although the building has been well maintained, its huge lobby is an empty shell with just a small cubicle used by a security guard.  Minimal murals and information panels trace the history of the island from its creation using soil dredged from the bay, the 1939-1940 Golden Gate International Exposition, its takeover by the Navy as war loomed, and finally its decommissioning in 1996.  When I found out that the lobby had once been a museum displaying artifacts from various stages in the island's history, but was closed when the Navy pulled out, I was quite upset.  From talking to the guard I found out that the artifacts, at least, still exist and are in storage.  Fortunately an organization, The Treasure Island Museum Association (http://www.treasureislandmuseum.org/),is trying to get the museum re-established in its original location.  I found the Association's small office, grabbed a membership application, and mailed it off with my check.

We left Building One and walked to a dilapidated picnic area and then down some stairs to a beach on Clipper Cove.  It was quite peaceful and afforded a great view of the new bridge that will replace the eastern part of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge (http://baybridgeinfo.org/).  When finished, it will feature a self-anchored suspension span that will dramatically change the bridge’s appearance and make San Francisco an even more beautiful destination.

New Bay Bridge being constructed

Another Way to Divide a House

In my last post I described how the Victorian house I live in has been divided into three units.  In terms of how my unit is laid out, I would say the conversion was pretty well done, with the only occasional problem being that you have to walk from room to room without the benefit of a hallway.  Not all divisions are as logical.  I actually bought a two-story investment property that had formerly been a single unit house, which was split into three units with a total of two bathrooms.  The one unit downstairs had its own bathroom, and the two upstairs units, a one bedroom and a studio, had to share a bathroom.   (See the floor plan.) 

Having tenants from different units share a bathroom apparently worked well; at least I never heard any complaints.  I can say that two of them did have emotional crises while they were there, but I’m sure the shared bathroom was the least of their concerns.

After a number of years when one of the upstairs units became vacant, the remaining tenant said that he’d like to take it over so he could work from home.  I was delighted since I didn’t have to advertise for  a new tenant.  The only downside for the remaining tenant was that now he had to lock three doors when he wanted to go out.

My Home

I’ve always admired Victorian houses, and there have been times I’ve thought that it would be nice to live in one.  Well, now I do, not the whole house, just half the ground floor.

The two story building was divided so that the top floor stayed intact as a single unit and my level, which may originally have been for carriages, was divided in half, from front to back so it’s long and narrow.  There is no hallway, so to get from room to room (other than the bathroom) you have to walk through an adjacent  room.  It’s fine living by myself, but when my daughter was visiting and sleeping in the back room, when she got up in the middle of the night to go the bathroom, whose bed room do you think she had to walk through?

Floor Plan - Not to Scale

There’s not too much that seems “Victorian” on the inside of my unit.  The ceiling at eight feet is a bit higher than normal, and the windows with their lace curtains go up to the ceiling.  But the bedroom, guest room and living room all have wall-to-wall carpet.  There’s no exposed wood and all walls and doors are painted off-white.  The kitchen has been modernized with an electric stove (powered through a rectangular duct that sticks out from the wall) and Formica counter tops.  The floor is linoleum.  The bathroom has a stall shower, which at my age I prefer to say a claw-foot tub, and a small sink set in a narrow vanity.

There’s no fireplace and no central heating, just a single wall heater in the living room.  That appliance, a space heater and briefly turning on stove burners worked fine for the one winter I was here when I left daily for work, but now that I’m retired and home more, I’ll see how well I stay warm and how much it will cost.