When I was crossing Union Square earlier today, the quick jaunt through the park triggered old memories of Robert Shields outfitted in ubiquitous tuxedo and white-painted face - a mime along the lines of legendary performer Marcel Marceau - who used to delight tourists with his hilarious spontaneous antics daily back in the seventies.
I met the handsome talented performer (allegedly straight) through friends I was staying with on Nob Hill on California Street many moons ago when I participated in a group Exhibition of Canadian Artists showcased at the San Francisco Arts Festival (1972).
Shortly after that, I often spied Shields on local and National TV shows, hamming up a storm as he began to build a solid career stemming from those humble days as a street clown.
When he wisely teamed with his girlfriend, the dynamic duo became known as Shields & Yarnell.
Actually, it is difficult not to encounter “ghosts” from the past whenever I cruise into the city by the Bay - after all - experiences with cherished friends here have been plentiful and filled with joy over the years.
I often wonder, for example, whatever became of a H.J. Weeks - who I corresponded with for years (he once resided on Vallejo Street) after we initially struck up a friendship one night on the Festival grounds at Civic the Center in downtown Frisco.
Tom Friertag - an intelligent handsome fellow who took me in as a grateful guest during that brief jaunt to the city by the bay - relocated to Hawaii from what I understand to pursue a career in teaching (according to friends in the grapevine) though I haven’t seen hide-nor-tail of him since.
For the first time - in a long spell - the face of Kevin Gagne floated out of my deep cluttered consciousness, too.
I literally met the charismatic French Canadian on a cable car, when he stopped in to San Francisco for a few days, before heading home to Montreal (Canada).
We also stayed in touch for a few years.
In fact, on a move to New York in the fall of 1973, I spent a few days in Quebec at his well-appointed apartment in downtown Montreal.
Since our first meeting, Kevin’s career as a hair stylist flourished immesaureably in the ultra chic Cosmopolitan city - and soon - his every waking hour was consumed by their excessive demands.
Unfortunately, Kevin and I lost touch.
Some days I fantasize that I’ll hop on a cable car and run smack dab into him unexpectedly out-of-the-blue.
Is he alive and well, I wonder now and then.
Occasionally, my thoughts also drift to a talented local artist - Roger Reyes - who I also struck up a bond with a couples of decades ago at the bustling San Francisco Arts Festival.
Again, a lively spirit from the past, that slipped away for some inexplicable reason.
For me, part of the attraction of San Francisco is its old-world charm.
There is a sense of history here that you don't encounter elsewhere around the country.
Cecil Beaton said it best:
"San Francisco is perhaps the most European of all American cities."
Palace of Fine Arts
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