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  • Mike Irish of Emmy's Spaghetti Shack, Part 2 (S7E15)
    2025/06/03

    Part 2 picks up right where we left off in Part 1, with Mike’s move to The City. It was 2021, around the brief lull in COVID cases before Omicron hit.

    Full disclosure: This part of my episode on Mike has way more content about me than most of what I publish here on Storied. I guess you’ll just have to deal.

    Mike knew he could fall back on bartending here while he figured out his next gig in his new city. He’d taken one of what he calls a “big swing” with his move to New York City when he was 18. Now was time for another big swing, this one in San Francisco.

    He worked briefly at a mezcal bar on Valencia and a month at a cocktail bar in Emeryville. Then, fate wanted a word with Mike Irish.

    Someone he met at a memorial for a friend grew up with Emmy Kaplan and mentioned the restaurant to Mike, suggesting he try to work there. He started off with one or two shifts a week, mostly filling in. And then Emmy offered Mike more shifts.

    This is one of several points in the podcast where I go on and on about myself. I share the story of my own decades-long experiences with Emmy’s, but for good reason. It culminates with my first time eating inside since the pandemic, when Erin and I sat at the bar and met Mike.

    Back to Mike’s story, Emmy had just got her liquor license and needed a bartender who could do that. Mike was the guy.

    He became “bar lead” (they couldn’t call the role “manager” and have Mike still receive tips) and created the cocktail menu for the place. He left the hiring of bartenders to Emmy, but Mike eventually took over ordering. He says he’s always had a mind for the business side of things, something not all bartenders carry with them. That possibly stemmed from Mike’s time making movies. He says film production is “the exact same thing” as running a restaurant.

    Then we get to the elephant in the room—how Mike ended up owning his boss’s restaurant.

    Emmy had told Mike that a neighborhood bar near her restaurant might be up for sale, and that he should look into buying it. She brought a broker into Emmy’s and he sat at Mike’s bar and chatted with him about what Mike thought was that bar for sale. It turned it he was talking about Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack being on the market. It was roughly early spring 2024, and by summer, the deal was done. Emmy and Mike kept that broker, but ultimately worked it all out themselves.

    He does share the story of how the deal almost fell through. Obviously, it didn’t. But you just gotta hear this one. He says most of their agreement is verbal/handshake, which speaks to how cool Emmy is.

    I prompt Mike to do something he says he hadn’t really done at the time of the recording—reflect on the massive life changes he’s been through just in the last five years. He moved across the continent, got engaged (and since married), had his first kid, bought a car, bought a business. That’s a lot.

    Mike says that, after the first day of operation with him as the owner of Emmy’s, it all hit him—how hard it was and was going to be moving forward. He couldn’t take a day off or call in sick. After about a week or so of mental anguish, though, it all started to click for him.

    And then we get to the part of this episode where my life and Mike’s really got intertwined—when I went on Check Please! Bay Area last summer, right around the time that Mike took over Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack. In our recording, Mike did something that I don’t think anyone who’s been on this podcast has done over the eight years we’ve been around—he turned the mic around and asked me some questions. I was happy to oblige, since he was unaware of how applying to and being on Check Please! works.

    This part of the podcast is essential Check Please! Behind the Scenes.

    We end the podcast with Mike’s take on our theme this season—Keep it local.

    We recorded this podcast at Emmy's Spaghetti Shack in April 2025.

    Photography by Jeff Hunt

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    32 分
  • Homeless Children’s Network (S7 bonus)
    2025/05/29

    Welcome to this bonus episode about Homeless Children’s Network (HCN).

    Malik Parker is the director of the Jabali Substance Use Disorder (SUD) program at HCN. He is originally from Fayetteville, North Carolina, but his mom is from Oakland. He left NC for The Bay the day after he graduated high school in 2011.

    Cameron Smith is HCN’s director of Afrocentric programs. He is from Columbus, Ohio, but has been in SF for more than 10 years now. Cameron came here on a whim; he had a friend who needed a roommate. His first job in The Bay was in San Jose at the YMCA as a basketball ref. He knew then that he wanted to serve, to give back.

    Cameron shares the origin story of Homeless Children’s Network. HCN was founded in 1992 with the intent to serve as a connection between six different shelters in The City. Their CEO today, Dr. April Silas, has been with HCN since the beginning. The idea was that folks experiencing homelessness were transitory, and it would be best if services they received in one shelter followed them.

    Nowadays, they serve more than 2,500 clients per year. They have around 60 partnerships with other service organizations in The City. Please visit the HCN website for more info.

    They are currently in the middle of their Jabali awareness campaign, a partnership with the San Francisco Department of Public Health that provides services around the fentanyl crisis. Cameron points to the Black population in The City being about 4–5 percent of the total, while Black folks experiencing fentanyl overdose deaths range from 30 to 40 percent of the overall number in SF.

    The Jabali campaign aims to bring awareness to treatment as well as warning folks of the dangers of the deadly drug. HCN runs ads on social media and YouTube as well as billboards around town. They aim through these ad campaigns to be as ubiquitous as, say, a Sweet James or Ann Phuong. The goal is to make folks aware of HCN and its services before they might realize they need it.

    A big part of Malik’s job also involves meeting people where they are, bringing those same messages as HCN’s ads. He says that this aspect of his role with HCN is perhaps the most rewarding for him.

    Malik has learned a lot in his time with HCN, including in their work with SFDPH. He’s uncovered his own biases, which is part of what he works so hard to help others see. He emphasizes for folks the “us” aspect of it all. He says he relishes the give-and-take of seminars, the things he hears people say to one another.

    When I mention the United Playaz motto, “It takes the hood to save the hood,” we go on a bit of a sidebar about communities looking internally to solve their own issues.

    HCN has workforce development programs, and I ask whether anyone who’s been through their programs has come back to work with them. That has indeed happened.

    Then our conversation shifts to ways that The City has adopted a “tough on crime” approach in the last couple of years to several areas that HCN deals with (see the recall of Chesa Boudin and shift rightward of our Board of Supervisors, among other signs). No one in the room the day we recorded agrees with that approach.

    We end this bonus episode with ways that you can get involved with HCN, whether it’s donating, volunteering, attending a seminar, or something else. Please visit HCN’s website to learn more. Follow them on social media @hcnkidssf.

    We recorded this episode at Homeless Children’s Network offices in The Fillmore in March 2025.

    Photography by Jeff Hunt

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    32 分
  • Mike Irish, Owner of Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack (S7E15)
    2025/05/27
    Mike Irish is his actual name. Welcome to my episode with the current (it no longer works to say “new”) owner of one of my favorite places in San Francisco—Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack. I’m not sure where to begin, but I suppose a sprinkle of backstory can’t hurt. Back in 2022, I recorded an episode with Emmy Kaplan, then the owner and forever the founder of Emmy’s. It was a fun interview, and through that chat with Emmy, we discovered that we had been across-the-street neighbors in the Mission back in the early 2000s. Fast-forward to summer 2024 when I applied to be on KQED’s Check Please! Bay Area and rated Emmy’s as my No. 1 pick among the three spots I proposed. Then a funny thing happened—before we shot the Check Please episode, Emmy sold her restaurant to one of the bartenders at the place—Mike Irish. That brings us to this episode. From the first time Erin and I met Mike at the bar at Emmy’s, I knew I liked the dude. Now let’s get to know Mike together as he approaches the one-year mark of owning his first restaurant, an SF institution. Mike was born in Houston, but he didn’t stay there long. His dad ran catering trucks for restaurants, and soon moved around bit before settling in Arizona, in the Phoenix area, where Mike mostly grew up. He came of age in the late-Nineties/early 2000s. Being in Arizona, Mike tells us some of the things about life there that he just considered normal, things like wearing oven mitts to get into your car in the summer. It was hot, but swimming pools were easy to find. Sports was pretty central to young Mike’s life. He played basketball, baseball, soccer, and other sports. His dad coached some of the teams he was on. He was a good kid. Basketball took over, eventually. He looked up to local players, especially Charles Barkley, whose number Mike shaved into his head. But after a couple years playing in high school, basketball started to fade and was replaced by theater and drama. Looking back, he calls it a “hard turn,” but we both recognize the plasticity of that age—the teen years. In his drama classes, Mike gravitated toward writing. He played guitar and wrote songs. He wrote a play for his school. All that young talent and creativity led to Mike and his friends making movies. He was also in bands playing mostly folk music. With all this going on, he met his first girlfriend. They dated briefly, didn’t talk for 20 years years, and today are married. But we’ll get to that later. Mike graduated from high school and went to New York City for college pretty much right away. He had visited NYC once before and liked it. He got into film school there, beginning a journey that lasted until three years ago or so. And so, for nearly 20 years, Mike Irish existed as a filmmaker in New York City. The school and his place were both in Manhattan. When he first arrived, he knew one guy from a band they’d both been in, and Mike was grateful for that. But of course they didn’t become close in their new hometown, as they attended different schools and made new friends. Mike made student films, and kept going after he graduated. To survive and pay rent, he started bartending, something that, later in life, would prove crucial to where he is today. I ask him to name-drop some of the bars in New York where he worked. He rattles off several, then summarizes by saying he worked at possibly 50 different sports in NYC. We talk about the films he made over that almost two-decade span. Some won awards, both domestically and internationally. The most highly acclaimed of his movies was The Life of Significant Soil, which Mike says he’s seen being played on airplanes. Another movie, Permanent Collection, premiered in San Francisco at the Roxie. Mike came out here for that and stayed for a week. That was February 2020, weeks before COVID shut The City and the world down. Going back to his first girlfriend, whom Mike had met in high school, she already lived in San Francisco. They had lost touch over the years. But she noticed his name on a movie showing at The Roxie and came out to the premiere. A reconnection was made, but Mike returned home to New York after that week. Still, the two kept in touch. Once it was possible, one would fly out to be with the other, either in New York or here in San Francisco. That eventually gave way to Mike’s decision to move to The City. Check back next week for Part 2 and the conclusion of our episode about Mike Irish. We recorded this podcast at Emmy’s Spaghetti Shack in the Mission in April 2025. Photography by Jeff Hunt
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    31 分
  • Misstencil, Part 2 (S7E14)
    2025/05/20

    In Part 2, we pick up where we left off in Part 1, with Misstencil at a new school half a world away from her home in China.

    Her time in Switzerland started off in business school, a topic that she admits she’s not the best at today. Aside from school, she visited other parts of Europe. She got a job in Switzerland, but called her family back home as much as she could afford to. One call she had with them around the new year one year had her feeling like family members were passing the phone and no one wanted to talk with her. She then learned that her grandfather, the one who had raised her, had passed away days before this call. The family had kept the news of his illness from Misstencil, ostensibly to protect her.

    Her grandfather’s death took her about a decade to get over. She was left with a sense of aimlessness and lack of purpose. Going back home felt out of the question, and she liked Switzerland. But her school there had a joint program with a school in the US, and so she applied for a visa. That school was in South Carolina.

    When her time in South Carolina came to an end, she had a choice—New York or San Francisco. She (correctly) chose The City.

    Misstencil had friends in SF already, and they let her stay with her. Those friends told her about a website, then only in the Bay Area, that she could use to find her own place. That site was Craigslist, and they were right. She soon found a place of her own. The year was 2000, and little did she know that she was beginning what would be a decades-long stay here.

    Her first job in The City was for a big company, one that had a dress code that put her in high heels. Looking back, Misstencil is so far removed from that corporate world that she cannot imagine wearing those shoes, or painting her nails, or other things that go along with corporate culture. But we’ll get to that.

    She found herself meeting and befriending older hippies who encouraged her to pursue her art. She was broke, and they put her up. They helped her get art supplies. She had previously set aside any artistic ambitions while going to school and beginning what she thought would be a career. But summoning inspiration from the art her dad used to do and accepting the help of her friends in her new city, she decided to go for it.

    Misstencil (not known by that name just yet) began to show her art. She recounts the first time she sold a piece, and how that felt. She walked by the gallery and saw that red dot and knew she had to tell everybody about it. She says that art and San Francisco and those early friends she made here saved her.

    Looking back on her life and the emotional struggles she had endured, Misstencil came to realize that, as an adult and survivor of depression, she wanted to help kids going through that. She lived with roommates in a rent-controlled spot, thus allowing her to do side work of that nature.

    The person who today is Misstencil of course wasn’t always known by that name. That started in 2022. She shares the origin story of her pseudonym.

    It all began with her simply wanting to beautify parts of The City that had lost their luster, so to speak—boarded-up storefronts and the like. She found herself all over town, talking to people, hearing their stories, hearing how much neighborhoods meant to people. This led Misstencil to conceive of her “San Francisco Lonely Hearts” project, which is how my life intersected with hers. It’s a way for her to show her deep love for and appreciation of San Francisco.

    She shares how she settled on stencil art for her method lately. She never had any formal training or went to art school. She says that because she didn’t have a very happy childhood, she wanted her art to help her feel like a kid again.

    Misstencil goes on a side story about the time she connected with SF icon Frank Chu and invited him to do Bay to Breakers with her. We also talk about the day we met, when she showed her SF Lonely Hearts work-in-progress canvas outside of Vesuvio. In addition to the 2D art that day in Jack Kerouac Alley, she had Frank Chu on a Roomba holding his infamous “12 Galaxies” sign, and a Golden Gate Bridge bench placed in front of the canvas.

    Before we wrap, I ask Misstencil about upcoming shows she has, and she humors me by plugging our “Keep It Local” show, which she’s in.

    We end the episode with Misstencil’s thoughts about our theme this season and the theme of the show this week: Keep it local.

    Photography by Nate Oliveira

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    31 分
  • Misstencil, Part 1 (S7E14)
    2025/05/13
    Misstencil was born on a mountain in China. In this episode, we meet artist Misstencil and she shares the story of her life. Before we get to that, be sure to RSVP to our Keep It Local show on May 23. Misstencil will be one of the six artists featured that evening, and for a very good reason. But we’ll get to that. As the Communist Party came to power in China, her dad and his family found themselves on the unfortunate side of things. His side of the family had a history as successful business people, which was suddenly frowned upon. Her mom came from a family of professors, also not favorable in the “new China.” Her dad was from Hunan Province, where her mom’s family later moved. When her dad was young, his family gave him up to a foster mother and foster sister. That foster family, capitalists like her dad’s family, was ostracized and became homeless. Misstencil’s dad was smart and talented, but because of his family’s background, was denied the opportunity to go to college. He also had tough luck with women. When it came time to meet their parents, once it became obvious what his family’s political background was, they would end the relationship. This happened on more than one occasion. Despite being attractive and talented (at art and engineering), he was still single at 30. Then someone introduced him to the woman who would become Misstencil’s mom. On their first date, he wasted no time letting her know his background. And it landed. She told him about her own background, and said she wanted to give him a chance. After the two got married, the government sent them to work hard jobs in the mountains. The reality of life there meant that children went to day care while the parents worked. And after work, those adults had to attend political meetings. There was little to no time to raise kids. This was the situation in which Misstencil would grow up. Because of this, her parents sent Misstencil to live with her mom’s parents when she was eight months old. She saw her parents only once a year until she was around 12. Growing up with her grandparents was traumatizing for Misstencil, despite how good they were to her. And that led to depression. All the kids around her had parents, but she effectively did not. It also affected her performance in school. She didn’t do well in any subject except art. Her depression made it hard for her to be interested or to take school seriously. Misstencil’s parents took her out of school eventually, out of fear that they would lose her, and were able to get her into an education program that was not goal-oriented. In that time, she started to change, which she attributes to the lack of pressure. “I no longer had this pressure of doing stuff I don’t like to do,” she says. When she graduated, that school sent Misstencil and one other young woman to Shanghai for college. She says that it was an especially optimistic time in China, and she embraced her time in the country’s largest city. Misstencil shares a fun sidebar about the first time she saw and went into a McDonald’s. Because she was totally unfamiliar with the menu, she ended up ordering a bunch of desserts. Then she tells us about seeing an advertisement for a meeting about a school in Switzerland. More importantly, cookies would be served at this meeting. That was enough for young Misstencil. Like many people in China, she was familiar with Switzerland and its amazing mountain scenery. Calendars depicting the Swiss Alps were common. But Misstencil never imagined that she’d have the opportunity to go there. As we’ve mentioned, the Chinese government exploited people like her dad. He was never really compensated for the incredible contributions he gave to his society. But then he found himself with a little bit of money, and told his daughter that they could use it to send her to Europe for school, at least for a year. She jumped on that chance to get out of her home country. Misstencil shares the detailed story of her journey to Switzerland. It involves large amounts of paper currency, some of which ended up in her shoes. Arriving was tricky, too. It was the middle of the night and there was a train to catch. And she needed to go to the bathroom, but didn’t have the coins needed to do that. A further complication was that she didn’t speak the language (German or French). A friendly fellow train passenger offered help finding her stop. But then he fell asleep. Eventually, she made it … in the middle of the night. There was no one around. So she walked. When she arrived at her new school, she was told that because school started the next day, she’d have to pay to stay there that night (which was already half over). Misstencil notes the contrast between this and what she was used to at home. She says she wondered if she had made a mistake. But she paid, and the next morning after she woke up, she opened her window. It was like being inside of a calendar, she says. Check ...
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    29 分
  • 415 Zine's Fredo and Laine, Part 2 (S7E13)
    2025/05/06

    Part 2 picks up where we left off in Part 1. Fredo and Laine had worked for the same company for a minute, but both left eventually. That social group they’d formed with a few other artists they worked with kept in touch. Some years went by.

    Fredo attended a workshop for artists at Hunt and Gather in the Sunset, and let Laine know about it. She says that he asked her to be his “accountability buddy.” He says it wasn’t a question, but more a half-joking demand.

    Fredo shares what an “accountability buddy” is, in this sense. At the workshop, each attendee set up goals for the next year. Your accountability buddy helps you stay on-target for achieving those goals. For Fredo and his buddy (Laine), part of that meant meeting almost once a week to go over what Fredo had been able to cross off his list and what was ahead. One vital area he felt he needed her help with was networking.

    With Laine holding him to task, Fredo knocked out most of his 20 goals for 2023 by August of that year. But, because his networking goal didn’t have a metric, per se, it proved trickier.

    And so they got together for coffee and sat in the parklet outside of Gus’s on Haight. Fredo brought a newspaper with him that day. He’d noticed that he kept hearing about art shows after the fact. Because he wasn’t really part of a larger scene (yet), he wondered how people found out about these events. His idea was to create a publication to do just that, and more. And then a funny thing happened. Laine had had the idea to make an art magazine that very same week. Kismet!

    They took that as an obvious sign that this was something they had to do. And so they started hanging out even more, talking and talking and talking about what they wanted their publication to be. What kind of paper? What would it look like? How do we make it free for artists to be featured? Do we want advertising?

    They answered those questions with several notebooks and a lot of caffeine. The first issue of 415 Zine took them seven months to make. Over that time, Laine came up with the idea of tying the title back to the structure of the publication—it could be four of something, one of something, and five of something. They did their due diligence when it came to researching the media landscape, especially when it came to art journalism. They settled on having their boundary be a geographic one, rather than having an artistic-genre focus.

    The “4” would be short features on artists—two pages of full-color examples of their work accompanied by brief write-ups about them. The “1” would be an in-depth interview with a single artist, with several samples of their art to go with the interview. And the “5” would be spots around San Francisco for folks to go experience art. Places like Madrone Art Bar, where we recorded this episode.

    I ask Laine and Fredo to talk about those seven months, from conception to the first publication, and the ups and downs they experienced in that time. Laine says she was in “no looking back” mode, and Fredo concurs. The only questions that popped up were around content. They were in it, and nothing would stop them.

    Though that first issue took them a little more than half a year, they quickly decided that 415 Zine would be quarterly. Most of the heavy lifting of creating something from scratch had been done. And though putting together a publication like this is no small feat, they felt they had it down.

    As we recorded that day in April 2025, Fredo and Laine were about to celebrate the first birthday of their creation. That party fell before this podcast was ready to go out, but I asked them to talk about the anniversary and what it means to have a full year and now five issues behind them.

    We end the episode with Fredo and Laine’s thoughts about our theme this season—Keep it local.

    Photography by Mason J.

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    26 分
  • 415 Zine’s Laine and Alfredo (S7E13)
    2025/04/29
    Alfredo Sainz’s grandfather came to US from Chihuahua, Mexico, in the Bracero Program during World War II. That family then migrated from El Paso, Texas, through New Mexico and Southern California, then as far north as San Francisco. In this episode, get to know Fredo and his 415 Zine co-founder and co-publisher, Laine Wiesemann. We begin Part 1 with Fredo. Fredo and his brother were his family’s first US-born members, making them both Chicanos. Most of his mom’s family immigrated to the US, but many family members on his dad’s side still live in Mexico, mostly in Guadalajara. His grandfather followed the work, which lead him to San Francisco in 1946. He worked in construction, eventually bringing his wife and children, including Fredo’s mom, to live with him. Fredo’s family settled in Excelsior near Crocker-Amazon Park. He attended Sacred Heart. After high school, he moved to Daly City and then the Sunset, where he lives today. Many of his high school classmates are still in SF. He’s never lived anywhere else, though his family did spend summers in Mexico, something Fredo remembers fondly. His grandfather still had a ranch there where they would stay. They’d set out right when the school year ended, and return right before the fall semester began, with a side trip to K-Mart for school clothes, of course. I ask Fredo if he’s ever been tempted to live somewhere else. He expounds on an emphatic “No!” Then he talks about a BBQ spot out near the ocean close to Doggie Diner where he was introduced to peach cobbler. Next, we turn to Laine and her story. She’s from the Central Valley—Sanger, California, near Fresno. The family later moved north to Linden, near Stockton. Both her parents were train engineers. Her mom was one of the first women engineers, in fact. Laine visited San Francisco a lot during her high school years. She remembers crossing the Bay Bridge and being awed. She has memories of her dad taking her and a friend to Amoeba Records. She’d been doing art since she was little, but really started getting into it when she was in high school. In her freshman year, she did commissions. After graduation, she moved to Chico, where she says she “learned how to party.” A friend of hers had moved to The City and her boss was coming here, so, with those things in mind, Laine decided it was time. She moved to San Francisco in 2008. That boss ended up not moving here after all, so Laine had to find work upon her arrival here. She was able to do that relatively easily. Though she’d worked at Trader Joe’s in Chico doing her store’s art, by the time she got to San Francisco, she took a break from art. She worked for a caterer doing special events. And it was at that job that Alfredo and Laine met. I ask them what year that connection was made, and the fact that they both struggled to remember says a lot. Deep friendships can do that. They ballpark it as 2009 or 2010, before the Giants won their first World Series in SF. A small subset of their coworkers were artists, and they all formed a tight social circle. Fredo and others urged Laine to get back to painting. And, inspired by her and others in the group, he decided to pick something up also. He channeled the graffiti he’d done when he was younger. Soon enough, that work crew had a group art show and they asked Fredo to be part of it. That show led to another with the same artists. They had their own art, of course, but the four also contributed to a single collaborate piece. Me, Laine, and Fredo struggle to remember the name of the game with plastic monkeys that Laine compared the piece to. “Barrel of Monkeys,” Fredo eventually recalls. Yep. It was 2016 and with those shows behind him, Fredo decided to run with “above-ground” art. He says that, especially in those days, Laine helped him out a lot with the technical side of creating art. Fredo also credits her with being good at the business side of being an artist—promotion and sales and such. Since she started doing art again, Laine hasn’t stopped. She shares how that got going again. She was visiting her girlfriend’s relatives in Tamales, where many members of that family paint. Laine was inspired. But when it came to subject matter, she felt she had two options—the surrounding natural beauty (specifically, a nearby creek), or a shiny red teapot. She settled on a mashup of sorts—the teapot pouring into the creek. She had a lot of fun with that little painting. And so, she picked that up and ran with it. Check back next week for Part 2 with Laine and Fredo. We recorded this episode at Madrone Art Bar in April 2025. Photography by Mason J.
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    34 分
  • Lincoln Mitchell on His New Book About George Moscone (S7 bonus)
    2025/04/24

    Check out my conversation with previous guest Lincoln Mitchell as we chat about Lincoln’s new book, Three Years Our Mayor: George Moscone and the Making of Modern San Francisco.

    Look for Lincoln at the following events for his new book:

    • April 29: He will be in conversation with Bill Issel discussing the book and what it can teach us about San Francisco today. Hosted by the Phoenix Project at the Roar Shack, 34 7th Street, from 6–8 p.m.

    • May 1: He will be in conversation at the University Club with Corey Busch, who served on Moscone’s senate staff, was a senior member of Moscone’s mayoral campaign staff, press secretary and chief spokesman for Mayor Moscone, and was Moscone’s chief speech writer. This event will begin at 6 p.m.

    • May 13: As part of the San Francisco Historical Society’s History Live! program, he will be discussing the book at 6:30. The event will be free in-person or online.

    • May 15: He will be in conversation with writer and scholar George Hammond about the book at the Commonwealth Club in San Francisco at 5:30 p.m.

    • May 28: The Savoy Tivoli in North Beach will be hosting a book party, which will feature a brief discussion of the book as well as an exhibit of the works of noted San Francisco photographer Dave Glass.

    For more information about these events, including how to RSVP and buy tickets, go to LincolnMitchell.com.

    We recorded this episode over Zoom in March 2025.

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    31 分