I have been battling a very bad sore throat and a dry hacking cough since Texas and it is just getting worse. That, combined with my sorry state of unemployment and my general feeling of "what the fuck should I do now" is not making for a pretty picture right now. To counterbalance this encroaching malaise I decided to meet my pal Tom at the SF farmers market this morning at the Ferry building.
Now, I am the first person in line to sing the praises of the Ferry building. It is lovely, there is easy access to it, if you live in Marin you can take the ferry to its front door. My favorite time is really early, before the markets all open, when just the Golden Gate Meat Company and Acme bread and Peet's Coffee are open. It means getting there around 8:00 in the morning but it's the best time. Get a coffee, get a little Acme roll and peruse the meat counter. Checking out the meat counter is, to me, like going to a really small but cool art show. Everything looks so fresh, so nicely placed in the display case and so delicious. You want to buy that piece of venison just because of its deep scarlet color and you wonder how those duck and rabbit sausages would taste. The people behind that counter are just ready to pounce on you, but in a good way. They know their product and they want you to know it too.
But this morning wasn't one of those early mornings. I got there around the time Tom's ferry arrived, a little before 10:30. (It continually amazes me that I can get there in my car in less than 12 minutes from where I now live!) The farmers market was in full swing, there was a long line for expensive coffee and many vendors were making breakfast. I met up with Tom and our first order of the day was to find that breakfast, which we did, eggs and chilaquilles and refried beans, really tasty.
Then to the fresh pasta people for the best ravioli ever, all kinds of flavors. Our work was done. We then just rambled through the market. It was packed. So much for the bad economy. People were buying overpriced broccoli and cheese and papayas and .... wait! Could that be correct? A teeny little bundle of baby bok choy for $2.50! How could that be? So I started paying attention to the prices of the produce and was astounded that almost everything was so expensive. Yes, the pasta we bought wasn't a bargain, but still, fresh porcini and truffle ravioli in an egg pasta was only $10.00 and you could easily get three meals out of it if served with a nice salad and some bread. But a teeny baby bok choy, once sauteed, would serve maybe a half of a person as a tiny side dish. Yes, everything was organic but nothing was in the economic realm of most of us working (or currently non-working) folks.
Jars of very intensely flavored jam: $12.00. Smaller jars were $8.00. A couple of spoonfuls on your toast and that jar would be empty. A dozen free-range, perfect eggs was $12.00. A dollar an egg! Yes, $3 is a good price for a nice omelet that you would make with those eggs, but still. You can get good organic eggs anywhere for less than $4.00 a dozen and even that is high at some local markets.
Oh my. So expensive. But there were so many people with so much money to spend on these very expensive products. Again, I guess the economic downturn hasn't impacted everyone.
And yet on the way back to my car I saw two different people going through the garbage bins looking for food. Pulling out paper plates that had some scraps on them and eating the food. Two people eating what us rich folks threw away. And that was in a 30 second time frame. Earlier, Tom and I were sitting on a bench, looking at the bay and chatting and a guy came up to us and asked us for money for food. We gave him some money, of course, how could we not, we just bought designer pasta. Just a short while later I saw the people looking for food in the garbage bins.
I am not naive. Homelessness exists everywhere. It's just so unsettling to see the juxtaposition between expensive food and poor people. On a day like any other day, in a city like any other city.
Makes my whining about not finding a job rather small.
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