Comparing Seattle to the city by the bray

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SAN FRANCISCO - Even the fish are all wound up here. At a sidewalk stall on Stockton Street in Chinatown, a large and snarling lingcod is on ice. It leans toward passers-by just out of reach, then puffs up and bites fiercely.

Moments later, a loud argument bursts out between a city inspector and the fish peddler, who has been ordered to move an array of merchandise inside. Locals matter-of-factly gather to watch, as if such confrontations are commonplace.

Always a bracing tonic for the humdrum, this metropolis is a good bit less restrained than our own sylvan burg. A cable-car driver momentarily stuck behind a cab loading hotel guests near Union Square bellows, "I don't have all day." The doorman promptly strides over to share a few pointed words with him.

While sitting with my two young children on a sidewalk bench in a fancy neighborhood, a man parks an expensive car nearby, then looks suspiciously at us. He carefully circles his auto, and in an exaggerated manner examines it to ensure there are no scratches. He casts another long, menacing look our way before striding off, presumably to refill his Valium prescription.

Later, on the bus, a passenger eases into conversation about my kids. Soon he's ranting about yuppies driving up housing costs. He leans in with the answer: establishment of community property. But the white-goateed, horn-rimmed collectivist has missed his stop, and scampers to the back door. As the driver pulls away, he angrily shouts, "let me off now." All conversation snaps to a halt, as does the coach. Given the opportunity, I'm not sure I'd want to share co-housing with him.

Everything's at a higher pitch. Street musicians in Seattle are limited to safe, soft fare. But on gritty Market Street, a power trio belts out a loud, bluesy cover of Jimi Hendrix's "Who Knows." Later, a feverishly inspired techno-busker manipulates a laptop computer and beat box to fashion hyper-paced rave sounds. There's not a folkie about.

Diversity means different things in the two cities, as well. Recent news reports on census data underscored Seattle's vexing whiteness. Here, history, geography and culture engender a scruffy street level globalism away from the usual tourist haunts. It's showcased in the Richmond District, Outer Sunset, Bernal Heights and the Mission District. There's precious little sniffing about "newcomers." Another plaudit is for comprehensive, multi-modal public transit, badly lacking in Puget Sound.

Yet, litter is layers deep. Horns are always honking. Homelessness is intractable. Drug culture thrives broadly. Politically, dog owners and bicycle riders are on equal or better footing than property-tax payers concerned with public safety, parks maintenance and street repairs.

District elections for the local board of supervisors supplanted at-large voting last fall and may eventually change that. Or not.

Meanwhile, the FBI is investigating the disappearance of voter-approved funds to fix public schools. San Francisco is also where one Stephen Maul was arrested for biting his dog. Maul insisted it was for the dog's own good.

But what takes the cake is a recent "dog bites man" episode in tony Pacific Heights (think First Hill with better architecture and shopping). According to news reports, two vicious, apartment-dwelling Presa Canario mastiffs killed a woman neighbor in the hallway. A book titled "Maneater," about raising the breed for violence, was found in the apartment of the owners. They were keeping the dogs for their jailed adopted son, a life-without-parole Aryan Brotherhood member nicknamed "Cornfed" who authorities say was involved in breeding killer dogs for Mexican Mafia meth-lab operators. Additionally, court documents indicated the canines involved had been sexually abused.

Quentin Tarantino hasn't inked a movie deal based on the gruesome story. Yet.

With critical mass as a financial center and abundant sophistication, this great city has attracted new commercial development, but doesn't sweat its often-hein-ous karma. Seattle has also enjoyed boom times and is hardly a cultural backwater. Yet, we have far more left to do about public infrastructure.

On the upside, Puget Sound won't easily submit to the two seemingly disparate influences shaping the Bay Area's civic ethos: incivility and hard-line "progressive" orthodoxy. We've got moderate Republican Bellevue across the water, not the People's Republic of Berkeley, aka Berserkeley. We're better off for it, at least politically.

Even if we can beat back world-class anomie, formidable challenges loom. The Sound Transit debacle requires a major re-think and prompt action. Moreover, a city monorail can and must be built. And we'll have to pay for fixing our traffic mess, or for not fixing it.

On another front completely - but no less vital - Seattle's escalating racial politics undermine the responsibility individuals have to themselves and their community. Through it all, our leaders struggle to set the right tone. Yet, they seem unable to do much more. So the rest, as the Dalai Lama says, is up to us.

Matt Rosenberg is a Seattle writer and regular contributor to the opinion page of The Times. He can be reached at oudist@nwlink.com.