On the news last night, the anchors reported a new app for San Francisco people – to report poop, dog or human, on city streets. I am not a Snapchat user, but at least one of my children is. This new free app, instead of for posting selfies, is an excrement tattle tale (tattle tail?). The thinking is that if Public Works can pinpoint the poop, they can clean it up.
I would rethink living in any community that needs the Snapcrap app. But San Franciscans love their city. I love it, too, if I don’t have to go there on a regular basis. Back in the days of a steady guy, I bought season tickets to the plays. We went to the city six times in one year to see the plays, usually having dinner first, and getting home at 11:30. These were eight hour dates, a little bit too long if you ask me.
One of the last times the ex-bf and I went to the city, he picked a fight with a homeless woman who was begging on the street. He told her to get rid of her face piercings and get a job, only I am paraphrasing it nicely. Before I could say anything to him, a homeless man was chasing us down, screaming at my ex –bf about how the woman was crying, and didn’t she have enough problems already without him insulting her?
“Don’t say anything,” I said to the bf. “Keep walking.”
I knew anything my bf would say would escalate the situation, and I was already hurrying to the BART station as fast as I could. It was a Thursday night.
Now BART isn’t so safe, and I am glad I don’t have season tickets.
1. I would be going with another female, so that’s scary in the city and on the BART.
2. I am not up for 8-hour outings at night anymore.
3. I don’t want to see poop or used needles on the sidewalks of SF.
But I couldn’t get seats to Hamilton without those season tickets, so I am the last person in my chorus who hasn’t seen it yet.
Back to the poop. Dog poo is more acceptable than people poo in public places. SF has a huge homeless problem, and it needs a more comprehensive solution than Snapcrap.
However, until that day when every homeless person can live in a Tuff Shed or a tiny house, the Snapcrap app will have to do.
I read about a homeless woman who had a baby and was still living on the streets. I don’t know what happened to them, but they haven’t been in the news lately. The last article I read in the SF Chronicle said that she wasn’t breaking any laws and that Child Protective Services would not take her baby away from her.
It is a shame that one of the most beautiful cities in the world, high on a hill, has this issue.
It can’t be long before Weird Al Yankovic does his parody of I left my Heart in San Francisco. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? He wouldn’t dare, would he?
I Left my Poo in San Francisco doesn’t have the same ring to it. Poor Douglas Cross and George Cory, the songwriters. Are they still alive? If not, they are turning over in their graves right about now.
The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gray.
The glory that was Rome is of another day.
I’ve been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan.
I’m going home to my city by the Bay.
I left my heart in San Francisco.
High on a hill, it calls to me.
To be where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars.
The morning fog may chill the air, I don’t care.
My love waits there in San Francisco.
Above the blue and windy sea.
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
Your golden sun will shine for me.