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After a night of club-hopping at San Francisco’s Noise Pop Festival, there was a different kind of noise we needed. And what could have been better for a hangover than an endless stream of calliope music, along with the bangs and pings of pinball machines and harpsichord melodies? Bob Suicide led us from the ordinary world of sunlight-drenched, boardwalk tourist traps into one of the city’s cult gems: Musée Mécanique at Pier 45, right along San Francisco Bay.

A NorCal Alice falling through the Looking Glass, Bob stumbled into a Twilight Zone of carnival atmosphere, peering at the antique sights: the cackle of old gypsy fortune tellers, the waltz of mechanical Victorian dolls, a Harry Lloyd stereoscope film and the requisite old-fashioned funhouse mirrors. And who wouldn’t want arm-wrestle her?

He looks pretty happy, doesn’t he?!

Not even the creepy carnival wench Laughing Sal could drive this Suicide Girl away. Heckles resounded throughout the hall, but Bob just laughed back. Bored, she made her way to the distortion mirror, did a little Charleston under a gigantic bloated belly, and really cracked herself up.

Reality’s a bitch, needless to say, but at least Bob’s got an alternate universe to step back into when she’s longing for her own roaring-20’s incarnation. In a world of ipods, droids and plasma big screens, a museum like Musée Mécanique is a welcome time-warp.

Words by Jeff Nau, Photos by Glenn David Williams

 

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