Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Friday, October 03, 2003

Failure of the Day: Glengarry Glen Park

I occasionally think that someday, I will own a house. It seems laughably unlikely right now considering that we've been married for almost 2 years and have yet to get it together enough to so much as open a joint checking account, but it wasn't that long ago that typing the phrase "married for almost 2 years" seemed laughably unlikely, so there you go.

And sometimes I go ahead and run with the house-owning idea, so I try to imagine just what it might look like and where it might be located. And since we're in fantasyland already, I decide that the house could very well be in San Francisco. But where?

Now, I love the Richmond; I do. I've lived here for 12 of the last 15 years. But I'm not sure this is the neighborhood. It's just so dang far away from the freeways! So I go neighborhood shopping and I invariably come up with two contenders: Bernal Heights and Glen Park. These are purely theoretical contenders considering that I've set foot in Bernal Heights a total of four times in my life and I've never to my knowledge even been to Glen Park at all. But I hear it's, y'know, nice.

And these are heady times for me to begin with, as I begin to act on my brand new infant belief that I may indeed have something like a future after all so I might want to quit shoving poison down it's little baby throat and all. So who knows? Maybe one of these days I'll figure out which bus goes to Glen Park and have me a little lookaround.


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