Throwback Thursday: When a $6 burger was REALLY pricey

While working on yesterday’s post about the new patio seating at Monk’s Kettle, I started reminiscing about Kelly’s Burger, which was housed in the same spot about a million years ago.

When I was a dirt-poor college student in 2003, a $6 Kelly’s burger was a major once-in-a-blue-moon splurge. And they knew it: On the back of the menu it said, “Not the Cheapest – Just the Best!” Different times. (A burger at Monk’s Kettle, if you add bacon, is $18.)

Here’s the beginning of a Chowhound thread about Kelly’s, started by Chuck McCall on May 14, 2002:

I checked out Kelly’s Burgers the other day, which just opened on 16th St between Valencia and Guerrero. Their menu consists of (drumroll please) mostly hamburgers (including a Texas burger which comes with a fried egg.) They also have chilidogs and sandwiches.

There were only a couple of other people in there (noon on Saturday). The staff was friendly. It’s an order at the counter and they bring it to your seat kind of place. That tall dude who used to work Truly Med. down the block was behind the grill and apparently owns the place.

Oh yeah, that guy! As for pricing:

My total for the cheeseburger, fries and coke was $7.75.

Daaaaamn! I think you could also get a draft beer for $2 at happy hour.

Here’s a pretty good Yelp review by Eggs M.:

I ended up here on a date with the biggest piece of shit asshole you would ever want to have sex with just because he’s got nice arms and laughs a lot. Why, you might ask, do I have sex with these people on the first date anyway??!!! I don’t fucking know. I’ve been doing that since I was sixteen years old, it didn’t work then and it doesn’t work now that I’m old but still lame enough to be taken out for dates to ‘Kelly’s Burgers’. Why does everything have to be such a goddamn fucking nightmare? Should I feel humiliated when I see this guy out with his girlfriend, or just laugh it off? Fuck. Oh, the burgers were good though.

Check out the rest of the menu (via MenuPix) after the jump: (more…)

The Transamerica Pyramid, partially built

The year is 1971. The photographer is Joseph Rosenthal. And this is yet another in a long line of great SF photos (and videos) taken while driving.

Ugh, why don’t we build any interesting buildings here anymore?

[via @OldSanFrancisco]

View of the Golden Gate Bridge and a very ’50s-looking San Francisco in 1956

[via Baby Ghost]

Your missing journal entry from 2007

I hope you finally got to take that road trip.

[via Capp Street Crap]

The bad old days

In the comments section of our post from last week about long-gone Mission rock club 12 Galaxies, reader Skyscraper offers another little remembrance:

I miss that place! I worked there from ’05-the end. We used to play pool and poker til the cleaners showed up and then go to clooney’s.

Oh the bad old days…

Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

[Photo via Yelp]

Spooky old photo of Cliff House

[via Baby Ghost]

Throwback Thursday: Here’s an entire live set by the Fucking Champs at 12 Galaxies, 2005

The other day I was reminiscing with my buddy Jay Beaman about what it was like to see the Fucking Champs at 12 Galaxies right here in the Mission.

The Fucking Champs were sort of a metal band for non-metal-heads I guess? One serious metal fan laughed at me when I said I was a fan, explaining that the Champs were “hipster metal.” I was like, wellllll whatever you want to call it I fucking loooove it.

12 Galaxies was a gloriously scuzzy rock club in the spot on Mission near 22nd that is now called Balançoire. During the early-to-mid ’00s they booked seemingly every band I cared about, and they had cool wraparound mezzanine. It was probably the first place during my tenure in the Mission whose closure hit me really hard (other than KFC).

I was telling Jay that one of my favorite memories was during the period where Bender’s was closed and in limbo after being firebombed. Johnny Davis from Bender’s, one of my all-time favorite bartenders, had picked up a shift or two at Doc’s Clock (right next door to 12 Galaxies) and so I’d walk over there early, buy a drink from Johnny, go see a band, pop back over and buy a shot from Johnny, go back and see the next band, go back and do another shot, etc. etc. until last call. Gooooood times.

I’m pretty sure this was one of those nights:

The Mission, as depicted on a 1927 cartoon map of SF

Pretty light on detail, but it looks like we’ve got Mission Dolores, Mission High, Seals baseball, booze, boozers, the pound, a factory, firefighters’ school, and lots of train tracks.

[via The Bold Italic]

Remembering Diary, and Diary after-parties

Our pal Lizzy (screaming over there on the far right), who relocated to Detroit a couple years back, but during her 6 years in SF, she had a lot of fun times at legendary Pop’s emo night “Diary” (RIP). She did a little #tbt remembrance today:

I’ve been to a lot of parties which ended because they were broken up, in college mostly. For whatever reason, it’s always going to be a little bit significant to me that the only San Francsico party I was ever at which was broken up by police was a Diary after party.

Unless someone told me something way wrong there was a noise complaint because everyone was singing Understanding in a Car Crash too loud.

Read on for a little more.

(And for a *lot* more, check out my lengthy emo-related interviews with Lizzy and Diary founder Patric Fallon from a few years back.)

Thrillhouse Records, an accurate approximation of SF in the early ’90s

The fine folks at Bernalwood today shine a spotlight on a local business which has managed to cultivate a vibe that is not ’10s SF or ’00s SF or even late- or mid-’90s SF — but early-’90s SF:

Want to know what counterculture looked like in the analog days before Tim Berners-Lee unleashed his Prometheus on our unsuspecting planet? What were the sensibilities of a young and alienated generation in an age of ascendant Reaganism, cassette tapes, and desktop publishing euphoria? What were the totems and signifiers of this edgy, halcyon time?

What did it look like?  What did it smell like??

Wonder no more: It looked and smelled exactly like Thrillhouse Records.

Read on for more info and photos.

(For me it’s also a time capsule of mid-to-late ’00s nostalgia.)