Noe Valley Christmas Cheer

Was briefly in Noe Valley today, visiting an old friend and employer, then stopping in one store near her office, a gift and knick-knack shop which sold almost nothing but schmaltz and glitz (like half the stores in Noe Valley). But sometimes schmaltz and glitz are just what one needs. No neighborhood does mellow-yet-high-powered quite like Noe Valley. The store played a Christmas-in-New Orleans CD; the woman explaining her collection of Christmas cards to me was followed by an adorable black dog, perhaps a black lab mixed with some smaller breed, who sniffed politely and tail-waggingly at my son; the woman herself was dressed in an expensive pair of jeans and a sweater, the jeans hugging her well-sculpted figure perfectly, the sweater accessorized with a thick black scarf wrapped loosely around her neck; her simple yet tasteful clothes and her perfect hair and makeup gave her that ageless, polished look that only certain women can achieve, and that I've long since despaired of ever achieving.

My mood was much calmer and saner than yesterday's, but not yet completely settled; it irritated me that the clerk (not the handsome woman, who was almost certainly the owner) took at least five minutes to help the two customers who stood before me in line. Then I felt ashamed. Yes, the baby had been remarkably fussy yesterday, and had kept me awake for part of the night; yes, I was bone-tired; yes, I needed to get out of the store before the baby started wailing; yes, I don't care all that much for the usual Christmas-cheer-as-we-shop, slightly frenetic atmosphere that pervades commercial centers in most big cities right before Christmas. But what the hell was wrong with me, that I couldn't slow down for a minute and enjoy, to some degree at least, the New Orleans jazz, the glittery Christmas decorations, the friendly, smiling clerk, the smiling dog, his dazzling owner, the customer ahead of me in line who just smiled when my son let out a small cry of distress?

I started to get into a Noe Valley state of mind. In other words, I started to feel mellow, like a warm, politically correct brandy on a cold winter day.