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Frisco Utopia

Pie Time for Improvements By Hank Hyena Mayor Willie Brown got three pies squished into his face--he was creamed with custard, crust, berries and other delicious crud. His reaction? He waved his arms blindly about; he was confused, frightened, humiliated and extremely pissed off. Ha ha ha! He sure looked funny! Every time I see the video, I bust up in sadistic glee. I admire Da charming Mayor, I voted for him, but still ... Pie-ing Public Officials and Famous People just seems ... RIGHT! Pie Clinton! Pie Starr! Pie the Pope! Pie Saddam Hussein! Pie Celine Dion! Pie everybody everyday! What a wonderful world that would be! Frisco, in my opinion, should pitch pastries incessantly--we should adopt it as our civic pastime, our indigenous culture. Hawaii puts flowered necklaces (leis) around visitors' necks; it's a clever gimmick, but we can do better. My suggestion: when tourists exit the planes at SFO, we splatter them, ritualistically. Then we hand them a fluffy disc of their own--we urge them to hurl it at the stewardess, pilot or shuttle bus driver. Pier 39 is obviously "wasted space"--the only way to utilize it properly is to transform it into the Battleground of an Eternal Pie Fight. Let's evict those tacky boutiques and replace them with warfare patisseries. Tourism would triple! Even the French, especially the French, would arrive en masse. Jerry Lewis would relocate here--he'd be the perfect mayor in a pie-permissive city. Pie-tossing would also improve voter turnout. Instead of the Election Day boredom of punching holes in a private stall, why don't we fling pies, publicly, at our favorite candidates? 1 Person, 1 Pie, 1 Vote! Mayor-wannabes can pose in front of City Hall; we'll line up in front of them, pie-ballots in hand. They'll urge us to "glop" them! Imagine the victory photos: huge mucky monsters grinning with pride. Pie-ing should replace the painful warbling of the national anthem: 49ers games, Chamber of Commerce meetings and SF Opera openings should commence only after a fun and frenzied flurry of food. Local infants should be baptized with a tiny tart in the head, and funerals should send our dearly departed to the nether world with ovals smeared across their formaldehyde faces. Death Row prisoners should no longer be gassed--they'd be spherically asphyxiated instead. You're wondering how my plan will impact the Frisco economy? Tourism will enjoy a cataclysmic boom, as will Baking, Bibs, Laundromats, Raincoats, Carpet Cleaning and Wash 'N' Wear Wigs. What about the debris? The carcasses of thousands of pies, squished savagely into chaos? No problem: they'll all be wedged compactly into profitable "Energy Bars" or sold to Ben & Jerry's for their new flavor: "Frisco Pie Missile Sorbet." When the stuffy world witnesses the ecstasy pie-pitching Frisco enjoys, they'll immediately imitate our sport. Ancient habits will change overnight. For example, instead of stalking animals to slay, hunters will be content to simply mash a mousse in their game's startled muzzle. My Pie Prophecies will manifest shortly, due to the accuracy of my infallible vision. There is, however, one perturbing delay--the Dawn of the Flying Pie Age requires the sacrifice of several "Martyrs." The Three Biotic Baking Brigaders who pie-plastered Willie were convicted of "Battery"--their punishment for this flaky offense might be six months in jail. Pies Are Weapons!? Pieposterous, I reply. Next time a half-baked verdict like this steams out of the oven, I want all Utopiens to rise up, aim and pitch pastry at the prosecutor, judge, jury and anyone else thwarting the delicious and magnificent future that Pie promises our population. Just Dough It! If you want to send your own ideas on improving Frisco life, email Hank Hyena at [email protected]. [ San Francisco | MetroActive Central | Archives ]