Totes Dig It

I, like, totally dug the issue within the issue, Nikki’s Spotlight on Sausalito (“Savvy in Sausalito,” Feb. 13). It helped me recall my youth in the ’50s and ’60s when, as a high school jock, I tried to be cool and hang with the Beatniks along Bridgeway, specifically at the Tides on Friday nights, and later on at the entrance to Trident where, were you a horny teenaged hetero male, you were able to see exquisite examples of the feminine divine, and perhaps catch a glimpse of your glorious future true love.

In my mind the town is still, and always will be, a great place to play tourist, no matter how many other visitors are present, and no matter how much it may cost to park.

It remains La Dolce Vita and La Vie de Bohème, southern Marin–style—North Beach with an actual Beach.

Craig J. Corsini, San Rafael

PG&E at Work

The trouble call had come in; it was for a gas odor.

I was with “B” on a job with PG&E in the hills above Novato. We had arrived early, did our set up (flags, cones) and waited. The on-the-job time was set for 8am. Sometime later (9am-ish), PG&E rolls onto the site with a large utility vehicle and a trailer carrying a backhoe. The PG&E guy gets out and gives our setup the once-over. “OK,” he says. He confers with his two associates, reviews the work order and then goes and gets coffee.

PG&E drills the first hole for the gas sniffer: “F––k!” More discussion among the work crew. The second, third, fourth and fifth holes are drilled and with the same result; the expletive gets louder and more harsh. Finally, a resident in the corner house comes out. She approaches me and asks if she should call someone, because she thinks there will be a medical emergency soon. I tell her to go ahead.

This is the PG&E I know.

Gary Sciford, Santa Rosa

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