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SAN FRANCISCO BAY OIL

The good the bad and the slick.

March 1, 1971
Jack Hafferkamp

Monday, the 18th of January was a good night for fog. Breck, Bill and I took a break from work, and ambled over to Keystone Korner to hear a gospel singer named Gideon Daniels who seems to be taking San Francisco by storm. His first set was evidently off so we adjourned to the basement for some psychic refreshment. Meanwhile, most of the straight-laced, immovable people split, and Elvin Bishop sat down to play behind Gideon’s almost straight Baptist revival rap. By the time we floated back Gideon was loose and well into a strong sermon on the evils of plastic food, white power, black power, pollution, and all that stuff. It was easy to drink, laugh and clap along. About 1:00, we dragged our wasted but sanctified bodies outside to discover a beautifully grey and wet fog; far and away the best we’ve seen in a long time. |

I had to steer with my head hanging out the window while I drove back to work. Work, shit. We climbed to the roof to take a good look. From our vantage point south of Market Street where fog almost never goes, we could see just how thick a layer had spread over the city. Twin Peaks and the Haight were just about disappeared. At our end, the Bay Bridge was still visible, but it vanished out by the Treasure Island Naval Base. Around the Golden Gate and over the ocean everything was buried in a syrupy thick, impenetrable layer.

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