and Words
When the lights go down in the city
And the sun shines on the bay
Ooh I want to be there in my city
Oh-ooh-oh
Oh-ooh-oh, oh-ooh-oh
So you think you′re lonely
Well my friend, I’m lonely too
I wanna get back to my city by the bay
Whoa-oh, oh-ooh-oh
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
I first experienced the city of San Francisco when I was a young child. My immediate family and close friends flew into the city for a day or so. It must’ve been around 1976, since my dad was still alive. I only wore a thin, light blue jacket, made by my mom. She had meticulously made Chinese knot buttons for that jacket, which certainly made me look like a young Chinese boy. I remember how much time it took her to assemble each button, and it fascinated me.
I was very cold while we traversed the streets of San Francisco; it was the coldest I had been in my young life. The skies gleamed a bright blue without any clouds; the sun shone brightly on that day. I looked up from the sidewalk and gazed upon the buildings that extended up as far as my mind could imagine. The slope of the streets seared into my short, aching legs. Though I don’t remember seeing any specific sights, I distinctly remember the city.
I had almost forgotten that trip to San Francisco. I first remembered how cold it was that day, and the matching blue Chinese knot buttons on my homemade jacket.
As a teen, once I discovered music, I started collecting my favorite albums on cassette. Journey’s Escape was among my first. In some ways, Don’t Stop Believin’ became an anthem. This song embodied inspiration. Journey named this album Escape after their preceding live album, Captured. Though I discovered their earlier albums shortly after.
I spent my first few years in Florida listening to the radio, where I discovered much of my favorite music. Those voices and notes had a certain depth without the images, much like gauging the vastness of a room while blindfolded, only by the echo of your footsteps. However, my generation grew up with MTV; it launched in 1981 when I was thirteen years old. All new music had an accompanying video; it became the new standard.
Some bands, like Journey, adjusted; they fulfilled the need for videos through a series of concert clips. I first heard ‘Lights’ in one of these concert clip videos. If memory serves, the remainder of their video repertoire was unremarkable. Other bands, like Duran Duran, thrived while producing mini-movies for videos, though honestly, it didn’t hurt that they were all very attractive. Yet still other bands did not produce videos and didn’t last much past the 80s; I occasionally wondered if the two events were correlated.
To me, Journey always felt like the quintessential San Francisco band. ‘Lights’ is their love song dedicated to the city of San Francisco. Ironically, they never mention it by name, only to refer to it as “my city by the bay”, though the reference is clear. Still, you can feel their genuine fondness for their home in Steve Perry’s voice. Listening to this song, I can almost see the lights over the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge over the fog. They wrote a great tribute to a city that was as integral to the band as any of its members.
In the spring of 1982, a dysmal baseball team, towards the bottom of their division, dared to think differently. They started their season 13-0; this broke the record for most wins at the start of a season. That team was the Atlanta Braves, and it started my lifelong love of the game. I won’t detail the grind of that grueling 162-game season. I will point out two games that remain crisp in memory.
In the evening of September 27, 43-year-old Phil Niekro stepped onto the mound to pitch against the Giants at a time when winning that game was essential to maintaining the Braves’ postseason hopes alive. In that game, Niekro (and his dedicated catcher Bruce Benedict) pitched a complete game, 2-hit shutout. Phil’s knuckleball was dancing that night. This game was won with nothing short of sheer will.
In the final day of the season, the Braves faced the Padres and lost their game partially due to umpire interference, which led to a 5-run Padres 5th inning. This dropped the Braves’ lead over the Dodgers to a mere half-game in the standings. It was all out of the Braves’ hands; the Dodgers controlled their fate. The Dodgers played their own game against the Giants. The Braves players sat in their locker room, watching this other contest on television. With the game tied at 2-2, Joe Morgan comes up to bat with two on base against Terry Forster and hits a 3-run home run. This proved to be the hit that ended the Dodgers’ 1982 season. Down the same California coast, the Braves locker room erupts in celebration. This includes the San Diego Chicken, who was apparently a long-time Braves fan.
Both of these games against the Giants occurred in Candlestick Park in San Francisco. That park has since been replaced.
Years later, after settling in the Seattle area, I flew to the Bay Area with a friend on Independence Day weekend. On that trip, I walked the streets of San Francisco like I had done decades before. As we walked through Chinatown on that Friday afternoon, we serendipitously walked by their high school as school ended. I watched dozens, if not hundreds, of Chinese American teens shuffle out. To me, it was surreal. Having lived as a Chinese immigrant, I had grown accustomed to being the exception among the group; I was the oddball. In this moment, the very fact that I was unremarkable was strangely remarkable.
It was during this trip that I first drove over the Golden Gate Bridge, if only to say that I had done it at least once. I’ve yet to run it, in the way that they talked about in Party of Five, but it still sits fondly in my memory.
We stayed at my friend’s place while he attended Stanford. Together, we all drove down the majestic Pacific Coast Highway to Big Sur. At a place where I can’t quite remember, we even got out and walked on the beach. I distinctly remember that the water from the Pacific Ocean felt considerably cooler than the Atlantic, at least from my experience in Florida.
Those are my most vivid memories of that ‘city by the bay’. They’re a kaleidoscope of experiences that span nearly my entire lifespan.