Train in Vain

I'm sitting in the Whole Foods in Potrero Hill downing a turkey sandwich before the Porchlight show.  This is the most gleaming, bright, appealing store I've ever been in.  It's a cathedral to fetishized eating, the apex of smug, groovy good taste. 

The Clash's Train in Vain is playing (I love that song!) and I am noticing that people on this side of the city do not look so much like people on my side of the city.  They are hipper, for one thing.  Grungy t-shirts, sculpted facial hair, tattoos, knit watch caps and flip-flops.  There is not a single old Chinese woman in a a down parka to be seen.  No retired cops or old muttering Russians with big hair and sweat suits.    

Sometimes I think I'd like to live over here.  But where would I park the minivan?

On another note, I found this incredibly funny.