Entertainment

From Modern Mythology: Folk horror is having a Renaissance, as the novelty cycle revisits the seventies at two iterations’ remove & the SF community starts again to seriously analyze the dialogue between…


The air is chilly on this early, quiet San Francisco morn. The seasonal cold wet blast which creeps annually down from the north has officially arrived.


A San Francisco cabbie has to make the decision whether to get up butt ass early to gamble on some prodigal son heading to the airport trying to make it home to L.A. in time for the festivities, or sleep in.


Detour Passengers, I’m down with the flu, folks. And there’s been a cold rain and grey clouds hovering over San Francisco in recent days – both figuratively and literally. So, your driver…


Eh, if I’m gonna be up, I might as well work. Despite its 4:15 medallion, I suspect my beautiful Prius, Citizen’s Cab #26, will be at the lot waiting idle and lonely for its driver. Me.


Thursday Noon: I’m rolling west up Market, empty, in Citizen’s Cab #26, when, “DING!” My iPhone chimes with an IM… Hey! It’s Christian! Note: Best friend, Spermula band mate, and fellow (albeit,…


Some have wondered what led a man like me into life as a hack. Well, here’s something I wrote years ago from the Hell of a cubicle, before turning towards life on the streets.


It’s 3:15am, on any given weekday. I’m laid out on the couch in my living room after one too many beers last night. (If one could say it is even “today.”)


Stranger Things is a retro-futuristic Netflix series that combines elements of conspiracy culture, the esoteric and deep state PSYOP cases. The surface story is about a missing boy named Will Byers that disappears without a trace.


It’s Saturday, my day off from ‘ol Citizen’s Cab. And the spawn are off busy with their mom and Uncle – who’s visiting from Texas. So, alone, I biked over to the annual Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival set so sublime amidst San Francisco’s crown jewel, Golden Gate Park.



It’s an old black gentleman, with clean, pressed blue jeans, a pressed khaki jacket, and a stiff, clean Army Vet baseball cap. He’s waving his cane slow and casual, as standing beside a pressed reusable plastic bag, and a nice tan leather shoulder bag.


I grab my girl’s key and 3:45 medallion from the pegboard myself – Prius #26, as Tony is busy by the register sliding another key and medallion under the bullet-proof glass, through the metal tray, to some newbie driver who’s standing outside the window.


Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890–1937), author, scholar, and connoisseur of weird fiction is renowned now, but his fame is entirely posthumous. During his lifetime, he languished in obscurity, only published in pulp magazines…


Well, Alex has been a good boy. He’s been consistently rolling into the Citizen’s Cab lot around 4:15am, and bringing it back just before 26’s 3:45pm pumpkin time. And it seems the shoe fits. Alex is making a living.



Rolling up Fillmore into well off Pac Heights, I’m stopped at a red at California. And with my little eye, I spy out of the corner of it, a twenty-something blonde woman in blue scrubs kitty-corner from me running towards the intersection, and desperately waving to flag.