from modesto to mortified

Part one: Modesto (with pictures)

There’s not a lot to say about Modesto, but I’ll tell you about my favorite things.  I took Amtrak from Emeryville on Friday afternoon, and was impressed by the variety of people on board the train.  The route was from Oakland to Bakersfield, and the ridership seemed to be much more diverse than your average crowd on the Northeast Corridor.  I had a window seat, on the side that faced water (San Pablo Bay) for the first hour or so of the trip.  After water came the farms of the Central Valley, where much of California’s food is grown.

Arrived in Modesto to the kind of weather I miss – hotter than hot, mid 90s, but low humidity, which made it bearable.  I had to wait a 1/2 hour or so for the bus, much of which I spent outside in fear of missing it (I saw one go by while inside the station, and also briefly forgot that it was Friday and looked at the Saturday schedule).  It was a pleasant ride downtown, and the transit center is an old (1915) Southern Pacific rail station.  Nearby is the “famous” Modesto Arch, which reads “Water Wealth Contentment Health” – I didn’t have an opportunity to take a picture during the day, and unfortunately at night the results were slightly blurry.  My hotel was two blocks away, and I had a view of the concert venue from my window.

The show was black tie optional, and I wore a dress, but nothing near as fancy as the evening gowns and tuxedos that the older folks wore (many of them were attending the Bernadette Peters concert in the center’s other, larger theater).  Jakob Dylan’s performance was average, with some special moments like when security removed a woman in the front row for taking pictures, but Jakob persuaded them to let her back in.  Unfortunately the band had to catch a flight after the show, and could not stay for the champagne reception that followed (and they probably would have played an extra song or two if they could).  So with no chance of meeting them, I had one glass of champagne and a few fancy hors d’oeuvre.

The following morning I had breakfast at Starbucks as my hotel did not have a continental breakfast (I chose convenience over amenities).  Then I checked out and left my bag at the desk while I wandered around downtown until it was time to catch the bus.  I found exactly one antiques store, and bought some new tea towels, but no other stores of note.  While killing time before the McHenry Museum opened at noon, I found a farmer’s market where I bought some nectarines for $1/lb. (best price I’ve ever seen, but it makes sense for the Valley).  Then on to the museum, which offered free admission, and some interesting exhibits with poor description (most items just said “do not touch”); the woman at the registration desk did tell me about the building – it was originally a library, and built in 1912.  Back to the bus station in time for the 12:45, and then Amtrak at 2.  I asked a man at the station to take a picture of me by the Modesto sign, but he didn’t press the button correctly and the train arrived before I could check the camera.

Part two: Mortified

My friend Dana picked me up at the train station, and we went to her place to make dinner with another friend.  Then we headed into the city to see a performance event called Mortified, where adults read journal entries and other writings from their teenage years in front of an audience.  This was my first trip to the Mission district of San Francisco and I loved it.  After the show we walked around looking for a decent bar that had a place to sit, and found a “biker” bar somewhere near 16th and Valencia (I didn’t notice the name).  By biker I do not mean motorcycles; inside the front door was a double decker rack for bicycles.  We left with time to spare before the last BART train, and I got back to my apartment shortly after midnight