Urban Art, "Ads can be art too!"

Everyday I am bombarded with advertisements and messages that make me want to buy things (or sometimes not buy things). On my way to work, on my way to the other bus, on my way to City Hall, on my way to the PUC, on my way to the wonderful Turkish kebab shop next to Burger King on Market, on my way home, and while I am sitting still in my chair trying to find information about risk management best practices and public financing. And it sucks.

But sometimes, an ad actually grabs my attention in spite of my best anti-capitalist efforts. Perhaps it is just part of living in a dense city, but it makes me want to carry a camera everywhere I go to capture the failures or absurdities of urban marketing. These are part of my everyday life.

Ellis & Market

MUNI makes it onto FailBlog

Yup. Nuff said. (8 June 2011)

Muni "bonds", or "How I rode my bike and then caved in"

As a not-wealthy resident of San Francisco, I have a relationship with MUNI transit. It's not great, it's not (usually) terrible, but it is certainly special. The most accurate comparison would be to the relationship you might have with that college friend or roommate that always hangs around and conveniently has a car, but no one is quite sure why he's part of the group because the only time you talk about him is to talk shit or recall a ridiculous story that usually ends with someone dancing drunk on a table at a stranger's house or getting slapped in the face at a Wendy's. But still, you keep coming back for more - and part of you kind of wants to.

On Tuesday I missed the 31-Balboa inbound and chose to walk down to the 5-Fulton, as is often the case. MUNI open sourced it's vehicle tracking data and I have a nifty app that tells me when the buses come now, but to no surprise it has an incredibly difficult time keeping track of the 31 inbound. "6 minutes" it says, and then a moment later it refreshes and reads "10 minutes". Once I relax and settle into the last sips of my cofee, it tells me "12 seconds, ha ha. you're screwed I tricked you." So now my only reliable signal is the mid-pitch ZZZ-ing noise of the electric engine of a bus tearing its way down Balboa toward my apartment, past my apartment, and away from my apartment. When the winding noise first penetrates my windows in the morning, I have approximately 50 seconds to grab my gear, get down the stairs and run two blocks to the bus stop. It may or may not actually stop.

Whatever is going on here, just leave the station and walk away.

So on Tuesday I walked to the 5, boarded, and headed in to the urban core for work. The bus filled up, became full, continued to fill up until there was nowhere to move, and then a middle aged man vomited everywhere in the middle of his second bottle of gin.

On Wednesday I opted to ride my bike to work, and it was wonderful, and clean, and warm. I rode past the Conservatory of Flowers, along dirt trails, amongst giggling children playing in fields with remarkably absent parents, and I even lost a 2 1/2 mile street race through the Panhandle and down Page by several seconds with a strange hipster on another Peugeot. All this and I still got to work 20 minutes earlier. But of course, I can never stay away forever. I always come back with some rationalization, secretly curious about strangers I’d see and the next MUNI mishap that I could be part of. And in the back of my mind, I always think that it will be a little bit more convenient than another mode of transportation. After a 300 ft climb uphill on my first mile going home, dodging cars on narrow streets and bikes flying in the opposite direction, I had my justification.

For now I will split my time between the open, beautiful bikeways of Golden Gate Park and the congested anarchy of MUNI in rush hour, until the next health-hazard drives me to the streets once again. No matter the malfunctions, delays, anxiety, reckless abandonment of traffic code, claustrophobia, and generic icky-ness of certain bus lines, it seems I will always return to this awkward friend.


One writer on Muni Diaries sums up his the experience nicely, with graphics!

Things people don't tell you about "City Life"

• It's not possible to get rid of fruit flies.
• Doing your laundry regularly will break your bank. Since when does a wash cycle that holds half of your darks cost $2.50??
• Dress shoes (and all shoes) do not last long against 4 miles of pavement each day.
• It is absolutely possible to find any manner of "ethnic cuisine" within 6 miles of any point in San Francisco.
• When people say "excuse me" and a) don't immediately pass you, and b) are not holding a map or fanny pack, it's usually best to walk away (this based on statistically significant findings). I'm still having trouble with this one.
• Traffic signals can be useful recommendations for pedestrians and vehicles, but no more than that. If you live near a large traffic signal, however, it can serve the additional purpose of colorful dance lighting in your living room.
• Dancing on the center dividers of busy commercial streets is really no big deal, but you are not allowed to dance in MUNI buses or railcars. Hypocrites!
• "People on the bus" can be an incredible source of endless entertainment, but you must be equipped with earbuds or large headphones at all times; small headphones do not work, and books (hah, books....yeah right) are only to be read when qualifying earphones are available. They must be easily accessible and able to be fitted within no more than 5 seconds, as this is the longest break you will ever experience in a conversation you do not want to be having on MUNI. It's also become apparent that the other end of the earphones do not need to be plugged into anything in particular, but if your trickery is revealed to your new-found BFF, you best be getting off the bus lickity-split.
• Night Owl MUNI buses run time trials through the Richmond District. If there are less than 5 individuals on a given bus after 1am, a 25mph speed limit is really a 60mph speed limit, and hills, stop signs or other bus stops are only obstacles to the finish that deserve no attention.
  
• There are coyotes in Golden Gate Park and they eat small animals. Reportedly, they got bored with the people in Marin and decided to walk across the GG Bridge awhile back. Having found plenty of garbage cans and squirrels, and no competition from the local raccoon population, they decided to stay in town and enjoy their newfound dominance on the top of the food chain. Now when they get deported, they just cross the bridge again AND THEY DON'T EVEN PAY THE TOLL!
• Never ever expect it to be hot; but when it is, San Franciscans will freak out and fight each other. Symptoms include a general 40-pt drop in IQ among drivers, excessive testosterone for everyone, shouting arguments about philosophical theories between the homeless and businessmen, and an immediate tripling of "The end is nigh" signs on Market Street. Everyone seems to be happiest with the high 60s - so for the love of God, get your ass into the carbon market America!
• It's surprisingly easy to find people who work for local government, to the point of paranoia. We seem to be everywhere, and with 26,000 City employees, we really are.
  
• Don't mess with the bearded homeless guy.