When a place advertises itself as 'World Famous,' you may be sure it isn't.
You cover Q-tips with sandpaper and ram them up your nostrils as far as they will go. Then you sniff talcum powder while shredding hundred dollar bills.
San Franciscans have a bond of self-satisfaction bordering on smugness.
Just two days in Manhattan and you find yourself looking for a place to wash your handkerchief after you wipe your forehead and it comes away black. Is there a dirtier or more fascinating city anywhere in the land? The answer to both parts of the question has to be positively negative.
Best trumpet: Mike Vax, an alumnus of the Kenton Band, who plays every style with a bright cutting edge, throwing in bop riffs here and there.
A city is a crazy concrete jungle whose people at the end of each day somehow make a small step ahead against terrible odds.
The waterfront without the Ferry Tower would be like a birthday cake without a candle.
The world of Manhattan is small and tightly knit, and the man on top retains a certain humility. He knows how far and fast he can fall by looking at the guy across the street. The view from the $250,000 apartment covers a lot of ground, most of it condemned.
Old San Francisco - the one so many nostalgics yearn for - had buildings that related well to each other.
Americans are pragmatic, relatively uncomplicated, hearty and given to broad humor.
We (San Francisco) have football weather during baseball season, and baseball weather during football season.
God! I loove this city!
Philosophically, I don't like doing commercials.
The clock doesn?t matter in baseball.
All American cars are basically Chevrolets.
