Our San Francisco days have been on our minds. Yesterday would have been our friend Spoonie’s 49th birthday.

Back in the day, his birthday celebration might have consisted of us sitting on the floor in his room eating a calzone. Then we would’ve persuaded him to get a drink at the Gold Cane. Once there, Spoonie would drink just long enough for Jim and I to get loud and talky with others. As soon as we turned away, he would pull his disappearing act and walk home down Haight Street, alone. Drinking in public just wasn’t his style.

Those days are long past, and our old city friends like Kris (Spoonie) all fled for other pastures. Which sucks, because we just learned that two very cool friends of ours, Rhodester and Coffeesister, are in dire need of a place to live in San Francisco.

They have to be out of their current place at the end of this week, and they have nowhere to go.

Rhodester and Coffeesister Want a Place to Live, Now!

Jim and I keep wracking our brains, trying to figure out if we know anyone who might have a room open in their house or know somebody who does, but we’re drawing a blank. So we’re asking you all to spread the word.

Rhodester (Dave) was laid off over a year ago, and  is collecting unemployment while job-seeking in SF. He’s a writer in real life but is looking for anything in hospitality or security to pay the bills. He’s also damn funny, and has previously been a professional mime, performer and radio personality. Coffeesister (Dorian) is a kind-hearted woman with a sharp pen who is also battling auto-immune issues without any health insurance coverage.

They’re looking for a room to rent, and they don’t need anything fancy. Wifi would be nice, as Dave works online. For now they’ll take what we can get as long as it’s in the City, and is accepting of their two very clean and awesome cats.

If Spoonie were here, I know he would open his gigantic heart and offer them a place to stay, even if was just on his couch. Like drinking at the bar, saying “no” to someone in need wasn’t his thing.

Do you happen to know anyone in San Francisco who’s as kind, and has a place for this awesome couple to rent? Humor and good company is included with their deposit.

Seems like whenever we are deprived of real ethnic food for a while, once we do get anywhere near it, we automatically head for the nearest Chinatown for some dim sum. In our travels, we’ve experienced five official Chinatown districts in: Seattle, Toronto, Manhattan, San Francisco and Los Angeles.

Seattle’s Chinatown is the lamest ever. Some Chamber of Commerce people christened it Chinatown, but it’s really just a place on the rougher edges of town where a lot of Asians live. The city put up some tacky Chinese gates there, but we didn’t buy it. There’s not much to check out, and the dim sum was boring. It was a real disappointment when we visited last November, especially after being cut off from real Asian food for almost all of 2008.

Manhattan’s Chinatown was a good experience, but felt a little too modern and spread out. We haven’t been there for years though, so we’ll give it another try next time we ditch the rig and head into the big city.

Toronto’s Chinatown is the only one on the East Coast worth checking out. With three different Chinatowns in the greater Toronto area, there’s tons of great food, and lots of colorful scenery. We definitely got our dim sum fix there, in fall of 2007. The one thing we didn’t like about it is that it was just too darn big to see it all.

For the ultimate Chinatown experience in North America, head to San Francisco . Go beyond the tacky tourist gates and storefronts, and get to know the real Chinatown. Wander the tiny alleys, marvel at the architecture, and play liar’s dice at an old opium den.

But don’t be in a hurry, because in Chinatown, you go nowhere, fast. There’s so many people on the street, that navigating through the dense crowds takes patience and time. Several weeks ago we got our first real dim sum fix there since leaving California in 2007. We happily committed dim sum suicide at Gold Mountain. Go there.

And when you’re stuck in the crowds, you’ll forget you were ever trying to get anywhere, because you’ll be amazed at all of the crazy, completely unidentifiable food stuffs, like these.

Haight Street at Night, San Francisco

Before we got to L.A., we stopped in San Francisco to see old friends and reminisce about our life back in The Day. Veering from our usual frugal routine, we splurged and stayed at the Red Vic Inn in the Haight, just around the corner from the old party house where I spent the better part of my 20s.

Back in 1995, I was a slacker with five roommates inhabiting a non-stop party house. Jim was a long-haired biker posing as a responsible marketing guy in a Saab. One night Spoonie played matchmaker, and brought us together. Despite the vast differences in our lifestyles, our lives converged and we were never the same again.

In December, thirteen years later, we were back where we started, at least for a night. After a walk through the city and several cocktails, we returned to our room. I promptly climbed out onto the fire escape overlooking the scene on Haight. I had to take it all in again, at least one more time.

The energy below felt exactly the same as it did in 1995. All of the same characters were there. Street punks with their dogs, musicians playing on corners, bicyclists coming home from work, and strolling tourists. Nothing ever changes.

I sat outside, barefoot and hoarking down an Anchor Steam. My mind played back scenes of our life together; they went through my brain like the pages in a flip book.

The Gold Cane on Haight, Where We Met

We’ve been through so much together, and come so far from where we started. It’s been a wild ride getting here, and after all these years, it just keeps getting better. I can’t wait to see what’s around the corner when we hit the road again in a week or so.