Amazing succulent on Ortega Street with junk the length of a telephone pole bursting through the ubiquitous cobweb of overhead electrical lines.
RELATED POSTS
Amazing succulent on Ortega Street with junk the length of a telephone pole bursting through the ubiquitous cobweb of overhead electrical lines.
RELATED POSTS
I spent the first part of last weeks Sunday Streets just riding my bike up and down the mostly deserted Great Highway and getting reacquainted with all my favorite houses out here. This stretch of road is what turned me onto Outer Sunset house watching several years ago. The houses out here have a lot of character and each one tells a different story.
This house would be perfect if you were a superhero type that fought crime with a hovercraft type vehicle that kept getting tagged up every time you parked it on the street. Problem solved. Just park your vehicle on the roof and then bogie on down.
This house is quite amazing. It takes up three lots lengthwise and is two lots deep but still manages to be modest in its space consumption. Check out that front lawn. It’s like Vietnam down there with succulents large enough to eat a small child.
She was originally built in 1949 by architect Ernest Born as his personal home and then later added onto by Aidlin Darling Design. It’s quite possibly the sexiest house in The Outer Sunset. You have to check out her photo spread in The New York Times to really appreciate her glory.
Photos courtesy of Dwight Eschliman.
It’s a fantasy of mine that a porn star exhibitionist type of girl moves in here one day and converts that third floor room in her bedroom/playspace.
Speaking of which, Mika Tan, if you’re looking for a house in San Francisco I found you a fabulous spot right by the beach.
The house that Viagra built.
There’s a lot of circular windows embedded into the homes out here. I think some of the architects went over the top on driving home this whole “we all live in a yellow submarine” theme.
What’s that on the roof of the blue guy? Is that an antenna? Or maybe that’s an anti prop-8 art piece. I have no idea.
And check out how the green guy has boarded up and colored over his submarine window on the 2nd floor. “Yeah, we all live on the beach. I got the memo. Now get the fuck out of my house you stupid submarine window”
There are houses that have seen better days.
There are houses that are painted like the doodle pads I used to scribble on my peachy folder back in junior high.
Dudekoff!
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
The Life is the Great Highway House
The Jolly Green Giant House
And John Law was taking his dogs out for a walk.
Thank you, Outer Sunset.
Thank you for helping to keep San Francisco weird.
There were lots of kids, lots of dogs, and lots of booze at the BTxGGPPwBC3 party this last Saturday.
I also stumbled upon what has got to be the largest colony of succulents that I’ve ever seen in one spot.
There was a shrine set up for Otto Schutt who passed away recently from cancer.
I love his taste in fashion, as is evident in his hoodie.
UPDATE # 1
Great footage by Mr. Holehead of the BrassTax Boom Box at Burning Man 2009
I love it when DJs have a sense of humor.
While walking home from Safeway today I noticed that some of my neighbors succulents were in heat so I took some pictures.
If I was in charge of designing a futuristic alien type city and wanted it to feel more organic than Lando’s cloud city of Bespin or the Ewoks Endor village, I would base my blueprints off of succulents in heat. They have these great towers and then there’s all this detail in the head of the flower as it starts to bloom.
Normally it’s really foggy and overcast in The Sunset, especially by the beach. However, with the exception of the recent storms, the weather lately has been fucking amazing. Sunny, with mid-to-high 70s, and a light off shore breeze. It’s every Southern Californian fantasy of every Beach Boys song rolled into a single glorious afternoon. And this is our winter. Let’s hear it for global warming!
I just recently rediscovered the N Judah bus stop at Ocean Beach and fell in love with it. This has got to be my favorite bus stop in the city.
What a great day not to be chained down to a cubicle.
Love the thorny succulents with flowers. Nice touch.
These guys are my favorite plants. Succulents are survivors. They don’t bitch. They’re not high maintenance. You don’t even have to water then. You just stick succulents into the earth and not only do they grow, but they dominate. Sometimes over each other.
These plants are indigenous to The Outer Sunset. And in the spring they grow these enormous erections. They’re like the John Holmes of the plant kingdom. Large and in charge. What’s not to love?
Several years ago I was using what few days I had of my vacation time to find a new roommate and do some home improvement projects. Winnie and I saw a commercial for a Wednesday sale at Mervyns and decided on a spur of the moment to go buy some clothes. Other couples spend their vacations in Hawaii or Las Vegas. Winnie and I tool around the house and go party at Mervyns. We were being broke years before it was trendy…
Normally I can see my car from my living room, but it was a no parking day and I left the Saturn a block away. Winnie and I were walking down a street that we normally never would have, when we looked over and saw that one of our neighbors had his compost receptacle out and it was OVERFLOWING with these fresh cut succulents. It was amazing. We scrapped the Mervyns plan in a heartbeat. Instead, we grabbed as many succulents as we could carry and then trafficked the unwanted plants back to my place. And then went back for more. It took about 3 trips to get them all back. We planted what we could and then went to Home Depot to buy pots and soil for the rest.
Fast forward a few years later and Mervyns is now one of the more vicious casualties of this death spiral economy. Mervyns did not pay out unused vacation days to their laid off employees and even froze their 401K. Fucking scandalous. Mervyns is dead and gone but the succulents are still dominating their environment. I love these plants.
There are 3 things that instantly come to mind whenever I think of the suburbs.
There’s The Wonder Years. This sick with nostalgia feeling of different, goofy, outdated, salad day moments in all these different suburbs and Navy housing units that I grew up in. And this isn’t a recent phenomenon. Generations of Americans have been raised in the suburbs since the post-WW2 boom and they each have their own goofy, outdated, corny memories of growing up in those housing units that are special to them.
There’s swimming pools & punk rock. There’s everything from the Bad Religion punk rock, Blink 182 suburban punk rock, and straight edge punk rock as a rebuttal to the conformity of the suburbs. During the droughts of the 1980’s Los Angeles homeowners would let their backyard pools run dry to conserve water and that in turn directly created the vertical skateboard movement. Last year, people were abandoning their homes because they couldn’t make their mortgage payments in such great number that there was an explosion of West Nile virus in southern California because nobody was maintaining all these polluted swimming pools. Punk rock & The Law of Unintended Consequences.
And then there’s The Home Owner’s Association, the mafia of the suburbs. Drunk on power and accountable to no one, they are The Law of the suburbs. Leave your Christmas lights or Halloween pumpkins out too late after the holidays and the first time you’ll get a warning, the 2nd time you’ll get a ticket. If you want to build a fence or make a landscaping change you need their blessings. If you want to paint your wall you have to get written permission from them beforehand. Even if it’s the same color. Revolutions have been fought over slighter grievances.
That’s why Crazy Guy’s House is so ironic.
At 90 some years, The Outer Sunset has got to be one of the oldest suburbs on the West Coast. Yet, there’s no Home Owner’s Association out here. Because there’s no way in Hell that this house would exist in any other suburb in California that had one. I’m part of the David Best fan club and I’m all for transforming trash into art…but sorry, sometimes trash put up on a pedestal is still just trash. Crazy Man’s House is a windmill of crap. On a windy day you can hear Crazy Man’s House from half a block away. If I lived near this guy it would drive me crazy over time, yet in the 14 years that I’ve lived out here not only has he not been forced to take his shit down, but dude has actually added to his collection.
That’s why life in The Outer Sunset is so surreal. Like a David Lynch movie. Or a bad youtube video. It’s own little piece of the Twilight Zone where the laws of physics, zoning violations, and common sense don’t always exist. It’s very weird.
Nice purple succulents though –