The Time has come once again, the time when unsuspecting souls walking along the bay in SF are suddenly subjected to the closest thing that they will get to (if they are lucky) living out that scene from Top Gun where Tom Cruise does a fly-by. That's right, it's Fleet Week. Oh!
I have only lived and worked in the area for 1.5-ish years, but let me tell you, Fleet week has fast become a noisome pest, rather than the thing of awe and wonder that some people seem to feel it is. I suppose in part that is due to the fact that every time the Blue Angels practice/perform, my entire building shakes like a truck just ran into it. A really large truck. Not entirely unlike when a earthquake hits. Deee-lightful.
I know that secretly, there are many people out there that are absolutely geeked at the thoughts of thousands of gallons of jet fuel being burned for you viewing pleasure. These are the same people that make model airplanes. nothing wrong with that. I don't make model airplanes and am not a five-year-old boy, so the thrill is gone. The honeymoon is over, the earplugs are in.
I have to say, I think Portland does this better with the Rose Festival and Greet the Fleet. San Francisco's sprawling ports lacks the central where it's at feeling. But who knows, maybe I'm missing something.
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