Salvaging a Lazy Sunday with the Marina

Waking up at 11 in the morning is rarely good. While it doesn’t always infer that you’ve done ill will to your body or wallet the night before, it kind of stunts the day to some degree. It’s not fair to the day of course, but the highly underrated hobby of sleep is given a chance to catch up with life.
Such was the case yesterday. It was a pathetic, slow, mumbling start to the day. It was further lumbered down by a jaunt to the gym for some brief de-fatting. Then, after realizing that I’d done little more than write two emails the whole day, I remembered that I was going to an art opening at 5 in the ever-so-blonde Marina. These sort of things bring out the 80 year old man in me. I always like to have something to show at the end of any day. Even if it’s going to the cafe on the corner to chat with friends for a couple of hours, it’s still more than grousing around in my slippers and having, “Took a shower after lunch at 4PM. Feel clean for dinner now.” be my main action item of the day.
So, without feeling much momentum, #1 Fan and I took a walk up to the Marina. It ended up being quite a nice day out, as many of my fellow San Franciscans had discovered.
It’s weird when you start to drift in to the Marina Ghetto. Everybody does indeed get a lot more white and blonde (whether fake or real, but mostly the former) and I start seeing less hoodies, ironic t-shirts, and hip facial hair and more clothes that look like they’re from the Gap or Tommy Hilfiger, although I wouldn’t know as I don’t shop there. I was unhappy.
Being in this super fantastic mood, we slipped in to Nectar. This was interesting and surprising. First off, the lack of baseball caps and conversations starting along the lines of, “Ah man, that’s awesome. Donkey punch. Cool!” or “Omigod. Omigod. Oh! My! God! Donkey punch?” were not to be found, at least while we were there. The wine bar was plush and kick back. The seats were welcoming to asses that had walked two miles to get there. Much appreciated.
Oh, I should mention that we were there for a show by Hilary Williams. She’s a hip local artist specializing in prints and paintings whose work we’ve gotten to like a great deal to the point where we even commissioned her to make a print for us. Her show is going on there for awhile yet and is a great splash of her recent works. If you happen to be in the Marina for some reason (um, maybe to shop at uh…? I don’t know) swing by and enjoy it.
Naturally after downing far too much good wine, we were hurting for sustenance. Pulling ourselves together, we stepped out, ready to hike around and find somewhere to eat, only to go right next door to Nectar for, Bistro Aix. Not expecting much, we were incredibly surprised to find good food at good prices with good service. We weren’t frowned upon at all, like can happen at so many restaurants because the host gives you attitude due to their thinking they are someone important standing behind the podium and walking people to a table. But no, Aix is a tasty place. I’m sure it can get loud as the bar crowd moves in there, but while we were there, it was a great mix.
Obviously, this gleaming moment of Marina bliss starting to tarnish a little as the night got later and more people showed up playing in to all the stereotypes of the area that one could imagine. Thankfully we were walking out of there before too many polo shirts were buying too many princesses too many drinks to get them to stop talking and move in the direction of a bed. While the mating of the BMWed crowd can be amusing, we were quite happy to be back at home having made something of our day (beyond the 4PM shower) and then returning to our little neighborhood clinging on to the edge of Nob Hill.
Salvaging a Lazy Sunday with the Marina