Honestly, I shouldn't still make fun of Noe Valley with my San Francisco-circa-2003 jokes, but I do. In one review, I called it "the land of $1200 double strollers." In another, just "Land of the Double-Wide Strollers." Both are good, and I'd add "The place where Marina Grayson and Marina Taylor find an apartment together once they decide to get serious." But I know a lovely couple who did move in together in Noe Valley once they decided to get serious, and she's a kickass union organizer now and is in a million ways a go-getter and a tough customer (in a good way) and a true Mensch, so who am I to make fun of where people live? Right. I'll still do it.
Not so secretly, I still love Noe Valley, but not for the proposed $1.7 million toilets or the lovely toy stores that have gone out of business or the ridiculous Whole Foods that took over for what was a ridiculous-in-a-good-way Cala Foods. Nope. I love Holey Bagel (despite or because of its interior?) even though it reminds me of getting fired and the memory of the Global Exchange Fair Trade Store and Elizabeth Street for obvious and not-so-obvious reasons and its closeness to the Mission even though I don't associate it with the Mission. But it's really close, and before I got my I parking permit, I used to park in its Z parking area illegally and never got a ticket and always enjoyed walking back to my cozy car parked in front of the same(!) cozy house because even though I didn't know whether I'd have a ticket waiting, I knew I'd have a catalytic converter, because who's going to steal one of those on that particular street in the wrong-side-of-the-tracks section of Noe Valley? I'm kidding about that description because it's not true but it is but it's not and you know it. So there.
The 24-Divisadero! It makes stops in the middle of the steepest parts of Castro Street in Noe Valley because it makes more sense to stop on the flat cross streets than to go past them to the inclined curbs! And I feel perfectly safe waiting too long for my 48-Quintara/24th Street, and there's a big, comfortable bench there waiting for me. And even back in the day, when I rode the 48 in the opposite direction and waited near the corner of 24th Street & Castro for the 24 back to my flat, I would use those lovely benches as well. Or if it was pouring raining, I'd stand under one of the closed stores' awnings or right in their doorway itself, and I wouldn't feel bad at all about it. That's when there was a Hahn's Hibachi (RIP) out here as well.
And plenty more. Plenty more. It's lovely, but its businesses are ridiculously and coldly and just shadily overpriced, especially on the south side of 24th Street. Why is that, exactly?
I still love it. And I still reserve the right to make fun of its residents. read more