You can't do anything in San Francisco without using Craigslist, the global listings site that was born here. If you're looking for a flat, piano lessons, a ping pong partner or...er....an exchange of services, then everyone points you to the same place.
Inevitably, someone's now made a documentary about it, thrillingly entitled 24 Hours On Craigslist. I can't be arsed to go and see it because the reviews aren't great and, besides, the ads are entertaining enough on their own. Which begs the question - what does it mean that thousands of people now read classified ads for entertainment? Does it create a sense of possibility or disappointment, the nagging sense that you should be doing more with your life than you actually are? Personally I think it's great because I get into hobbies for about a week at a time - so I'm currently half-heartedly investigating flying lessons, vietnamese cooking courses and second hand hammond organs.
I'm actually slightly bitter because we had a similar idea during my time at the BBC, before the powers-that-be decided to invest the money instead in strangling the 'Home Makeover' concept further...before beating it to death, plucking out its eyes, setting fire to it and burying it under a new patio (with decking).
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