Wandering around San Francisco one day we saw constant reminders that it pays to keep your eyes open and pay attention to your surroundings. When we saw this sidewalk stain we all stopped to look, and, of course, shoot photographs of the phallic symbol, before walking on, only to encounter this:
Something is clearly missing here, something that was intended. Without it, the sculpture (and we use that term loosely) became something else altogether. His grip, combined with the almost ecstatic look on his face, were not exactly family fare. At least not as we saw it.
Phallus symbols are popular in other places, too, as noted in this San Francisco Chronicle story about a Florida pilot who drew a penis with his plane’s routing. It provides new meaning to the term joystick.
Trust me, they aren’t dancing.
But sex wasn’t the only thing on our minds.
Laid out on a tray at Fisherman’s Wharf was the biggest lobster I’ve ever seen. Lobster has always been a favorite dish, until someone told me they are of the same family as cockroaches. I haven’t enjoyed them quite so much, since.
It was hard to fault the tourists for bringing traffic to a standstill as they queued up to drive down the crookedest street in the world, Lombard. Well, it was hard for ME to fault them, not so sure my gay husband was as sanguine about it, as he was at the wheel. But it did give me a chance to shoot this vanity license tag.
We know this to be true in San Francisco, but you know what? It’s true of life in general, at least in my opinion. So, tell us: what’s the strangest thing you’ve seen when visiting any city at all?