I hoped not. I liked these guys, from what little I had seen of them. The main bartender was training a new guy, methodically showing him where he put the zester when he wasn't using it, and making sure that he understood the careful science of the pour. There was pride in what they were doing here.
When I got home, I perused Facebook before bed and came across a post by a colleague of mine, a review of the memoir that he had just published. He had written about his mother's death from cancer, and his care of her in her final days. Having myself failed at book-writing, I know how much work goes into one, and especially one about something as sad as your mother's death. The review was in The New York Times, and it completely trashed him and his work. It said that it was the perfect example of why some memoirs should never be written. It said that he stripped his mother of all dignity. It said that he was shamelessly looking for attention in writing it. It said that it sucked.
842 Valencia
San Francisco, CA 94110
Category: Restaurant > California
Region: Mission/ Bernal Heights
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Range
842 Valencia (at 19th St.), 282-8283, www.rangesf.com.
I felt so sorry for him. I didn't know what to say. My stupid, self-centered ennui about being called a waste of space seemed to dwarf in comparison. I decided to do what I hoped Range was doing: Get better. Grow. Recharge. Reinvent.
And so I shall.
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