Ten years before his untimely death, Philip Seymour Hoffman requested in his 2004 will that if he were to die that his one-year-old son be raised in either NYC, Chiciago or San Francisco, according to the will shared on ABC News.
The reason behind this is outlined on pages 11 and 12 of the will:
"It is my strong desire, and direction to my Guardian, that my son, Cooper Hoffman be raised and reside in or near the borough of Manhattan in the State of New York, or Chicago, Illinois, or San Francisco, California, and if my Guardian cannot reside in any of such cities, that it is my strong desire, and not direction, that my son, Cooper Hoffman, visit these cities at least twice per year throughout such guardianship. The purpose of this request is so my that my son will be exposed to the culture, arts and architecture that such cities offer."
What do you look for in your dream house? Excellent views? Close proximity to your favorite San Francisco spots? What about 87 steps to climb just to get in the front door? And what if 73 of those steps made you walk over your roof?
If you answered yes to any two of the above questions, particularly the last two, then the house advertised in this Craigslist post is for you. Just don't try to walk up those roof-stairs after you've spent some time at any of the bars that are also in close proximity to your new pad.
It's $1775/month to live in this bell tower and it comes with its own K-cup coffee machine! What a steal.
It's hard to click a link these days without seeing another story about San Francisco's class divide. The artists and working class are being priced out, and everyone blames the techies first and the real estate industry second. But at 55 Ninth St. downtown, a couple of artists, a few foundations, and, gasp, a developer are collaborating on a surrealist happening held in San Francisco's long tradition of public weirdness, and a grand piece of site-specific art.
From a distance, And My Room Still Rocks Like a Boat on the Sea (Caruso's Dream), looks like 13 floating pianos. From underneath, the viewer might wonder if the pianos are falling. The installation created by Brian Goggin and Dorka Keehn is large, impressively intricate, and deeply symbolic. It's also covered, or under construction, most of the time.
Abigail and Shaun Bengson are changing the face of musicals. The married couple, known collectively as "The Bengsons," have been married for as long as they have been performing together -- since 2008.
"We got hitched three weeks after our first band rehearsal," Shaun says.
"First we were writing songs under the name of 'Zombie Nationalists'. We played a lot of zombie-related songs. That was sort of a strange chapter," Abigail says, laughing. "When we had material ready and were ready to admit that we were actually in a band together, we became 'The Bengsons'."
